#Just had the worst audience experience of my career

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Are You There, Wolf? (M) ~Lee Know

Pairing: Werewolf!Minho x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Fluff | Best Friends to Lovers Word Count: ~8k | AO3 Synopsis: Minho had always deemed himself a bit of a weirdo. In his humble opinion, he’d only become even weirder with time, especially after he acquired his supernatural… condition. He’d never cared much about it, not when you’d always been there for him, and hopefully you would always be. [This is an instalment of my WereRoomies series. You don’t particularly need to read the other instalments related to Minho to understand this, but it’ll add more depth to the story if you do, so I highly recommend it~]. Warnings: Minho’s POV · mentions of shooting guns [it’s an off-handed comment made by Minho, nothing serious, but figured i’d put a warning] · mentions of gambling · mentions of cheating [but no one cheated] · mentions of blood, injuries, and violence · near death experiences · Minho was dumb and in denial for a long while · mentions and depictions of monster fucking shenanigans · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).

Author’s Note: this originally started as a smutty drabble inspired by an ask from an anon… somehow it grew hands and beat me up and made me black out and now we’ve got a full instalment. a chunk of it is just stuff that happened in other instalments, but with Minho’s input. hope you enjoy ! special thanks to @notastraykid for reading this and letting me know it wasn’t the worst piece of literature she’s ever read.

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Minho's previous WereRoomies instalments: Camping With Wolves & Dog Unleashed

Smut Warnings: mentions of oral · somnophilia [all acts related to it are consensual] · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but reader is presumed to be on birth control] · creampie

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Minho always believed himself to be a rational man. He was also an animal, yes. But his animal instincts were, essentially, stunted. 

He wasn’t sure if it was because he was born human and turned into a werewolf when he was very young, or if there was something wrong with him in general–he honestly wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case.

Jisung–who’d been the first other werewolf Minho ever befriended–believed it to be the first option. He had encouraged Minho to go to a specialist and ask, but Minho never really paid much attention to it.

He figured that, as long as he didn’t feel ill or that he didn’t hurt anyone around him, it didn’t really matter.

However, just how many psychologists and therapists by trade seemed to choose that career path in order to understand their own brains and behaviours, sometimes he wondered if his own inability to understand his animal needs was what fully drove him into becoming a vet.

Sure, he had always cared for animal’s safety, he always knew one too many facts about many different critters, and with all the injured animals that seemed to come his way when he was a kid, he had spent more time at the vet’s office than he did in his own home. He supposed all things combined played a role in his career choice, and that had certainly helped him understand himself a little better… kind of.

Minho was a simple man. A man that, in a sick twist of fate, ended up becoming the dictionary definition of a monster.

He’d admit that for a long time, he blamed himself for what had happened to him. ‘Maybe if I hadn’t taken that detour through the woods that time I wouldn’t have been turned’, ‘Maybe if I had been paying attention to my surroundings I wouldn’t have been bit’, ‘Maybe I did something horrible in a past life or this one to warrant such an event’, he’d always think about these things whenever the pains and aches caused by his condition were a bit too strong to bear.

It took him an even longer time to accept the fact that it hadn’t been his fault at all. Nothing could’ve ever prepared him for the situation. He would’ve never been able to predict that a giant wolf would come out of nowhere and bite him completely unprompted. 

To this day, over ten years later, Minho still couldn’t remember what the wolf looked like.

It all happened so fast… All he could remember was the fuzzy canine shape, the sound of growls and snarls and of his own bones cracking inside his body, along with the searing pain that spread from the gash that the creature had left on his side.

He couldn’t remember the bleeding, or the amount of time he spent laying on the forest ground, or even the moment he was eventually found. One second he was in an immense amount of pain, and the next he was completely fine, as if nothing had happened, laying on a hospital bed with his best friend hugging him and sobbing against his chest.

Minho could’ve never imagined that that event in the woods would change the way he interacted with the world forever.

One seemingly normal evening after what he thought had been ‘an accident’, while he was hanging out in his best friend’s home, doing their weekly watch of Kamen Rider, it was like something suddenly started rattling inside of him. Like an itch one can’t seem to scratch satisfactorily.

He couldn’t breathe, his joints hurt, all his muscles seemed to burn, and before he knew it, he was feeling parts of his body he had never felt before. His vision felt different, his sense of smell was overwhelmed, and although his surroundings were familiar, it was almost like he was seeing them from someone else’s perspective.

Needless to say, he was having a full on meltdown right then and there. Especially when he caught what he thought would be a glimpse of himself on a reflective surface, and what he saw instead was a dog… Well, more accurately, a wolf.

To this day, he was very grateful that it all happened while you, his best friend, were there with him. Minho honestly wasn’t sure how he would’ve reacted had he been on his own. He could still remember the panic he felt, how much he was crying, how much you were crying. Things would’ve probably been very different if you hadn’t hugged him tight and reassured him time and time again that you’d be there for him… That you wanted to figure this out together.

When he had finally understood what had happened to him in the woods, and after many trips to the local library to do some digging on the internet, you both came to the conclusion that the most logical explanation to his newfound condition was that he was now afflicted with lycanthropy… And it wasn’t the psychological kind.

Which was crazy. 

Completely absurd.

But what seemed to be sourced in fantasy and myths was literally the only thing that matched his symptoms perfectly.

Everything was confusing for a long time after that. Everything was too loud, too bright, too intense… His already sensitive senses seemed to be overstimulated all day, every day–even worse than before–and he could hardly cope.

He could hear conversations that were happening metres away from him, he could hear people’s breathing and their heartbeats and sometimes other internal organs as well… It was honestly driving him a little bit insane.

Minho realised very quickly that having a supernaturally enhanced sense of smell when he was starting high school was quite possibly one of the worst things to ever happen to him. Having been turned into a werewolf was hard enough on its own, now he had to deal with teenagers that seemed to hold a grudge against soap.

When it all got too overwhelming, he simply got close to you. As close as he could. He was sure he had memorised the rhythm of your heartbeat at this point, and the constant, familiar sound always seemed to help ease his sour mood.

‘Have you gotten a new perfume? Or a new fabric softener?’ He couldn’t help but ask one day. He’d noticed recently that there seemed to be a scent of lavender lingering around him whenever you were close. He didn’t mind. In fact, it actually comforted him quite a bit.

‘You know I don’t use fabric softener, dummy. And no, I haven’t gotten a new perfume’, your answer puzzled him a bit, but it wasn’t until a handful of months later, when he finally met Jisung, that he understood what that lavender scent was.

When Minho first met Jisung, he was honestly a bit surprised. Mostly because the second Jisung was within his radius, it was almost like he could tell the younger boy was a werewolf, too. There was something about the smell of roses and cotton radiating from Jisung that just gave it away, although Minho didn’t know how, or why.

Jisung quickly became an integral part of his friend group–although, to be fair,  ‘group’ was a big word to use, considering you were the only real friend Minho had, and the one he consistently hung out with. What used to be a simple pair of weirdos became a trio of weirdos, and Minho was genuinely happy about that.

He immediately felt like he could trust Jisung, and in the long run, Minho was grateful for his presence. Not only because Jisung was funny and eloquent and he also enjoyed watching niche TV shows, but also because Jisung helped him understand this unexplored side of him.

‘You’re an alpha, clearly’, Jisung told Minho once. As if that meant something important. ‘Your scent is kind of… Like, you smell of vanilla and a recently lit bonfire. Somehow very alpha-like, but milder than what I’m used to, I suppose…’

Jisung explained to him all these werewolf designations of alphas, betas, and omegas that were based on a werewolf’s inherent nature… He explained what scents were, how to tell what status a wolf had based on their scent, and when he confirmed that humans did, in fact, also have a scent, Minho just knew then that that lavender scent he always smelt when you were close was simply your natural scent. Just like cotton and roses was Jisung’s.

Meeting Jisung–aside from meeting you–was possibly one of the best things that could’ve ever happened to Minho. Not only did Jisung become one of his best friends in this whole wide world, not only did he help Minho understand his newfound nature, but also, thanks to him, Minho was finally able to find a family of his own.

Being honest, in his hometown, Minho didn’t have anyone but you. His mother barely even gave him the time of day–mostly because she was busy working two or three jobs to support them both.

When his now step-dad came into the picture, money was no longer a problem, but by that point Minho had already been turned, and that, coupled with the fact that his step-dad wasn’t really that good of a man, was enough for him to distance himself from his relatives.

Minho also had Jisung for a while, but he eventually left town because his entire pack was moving out. That was fine, he was sure they would meet again eventually. Besides, technology around that time made it so it was hardly possible to not be in contact with someone.

After high school, when Minho finally decided to pursue higher education–to pursue his dream of becoming a vet–the university he wanted to study in was, coincidentally, in the same area where Jisung was living then. And not only was Jisung living there, he was in a pack. A different one from his childhood one.

Back in the early stages of his friendship with Jisung, he had explained to Minho that werewolves usually lived in packs, just like regular wolves did. Jisung’s childhood pack didn’t treat omegas that well, from what Minho could recall. So, being an omega himself, Jisung always felt like a bit of an outcast. The fact that he had found a pack where he was actually comfortable was a big deal, and Minho was genuinely happy for his friend.

Even though the pack was essentially only three young wolves, Jisung always spoke highly of his two other packmates. ‘Chris and Changbin are amazing people, dude. Never met wolves like them aside from, like… you. I think you’d be a great addition to our pack, and Chris agrees! Come meet them, you won’t regret it’.

And he didn’t regret it. Not one bit. If anything, joining Chris’ pack, becoming close to him and Changbin to help them lead it, was the third best thing that could’ve ever happened to Minho.

‘Changbin’s my right hand. Although it doesn’t make much sense to have a second in command when we’re, like, three dudes only, I feel like at any point more people could join us, so I like to be prepared’, Chris, the leader–the alpha–of that pack of Jisung’s wasn’t that much older than Minho, but there was something about him that exuded leadership and comfort. It was so obvious even someone like Minho, who wasn’t that in touch with his wolf instincts, was able to tell this man was a real alpha. 

‘It’s very customary for the alpha of the pack to have at least two other people next to them to deal with all possible pack matters, and Jisung believes you might be suitable for that. He said, and I quote, that you have a heart of gold. He vouches for you, and I trust him, so if you want to join and help me out, you’re more than welcome to. Hell, you’re welcome even if you don’t want to help me lead specifically, but it’s important you know that as a pack, we must always look out for each other’, Chris’ proposal was straight forward. No matter what role Minho would fill in, he was welcome to join them.

Being honest with himself, Minho wasn’t really that much of a leader–not in his opinion, at least–but the prospect of joining a pack seemed to tickle something on the back of his mind. He supposed it was one of those instinctual things he didn’t understand well, but, in a way, Chris made him feel reassured, so he told him he’d be happy to join and help him out however he could. With one condition, though.

‘You see, I’ve got my best friend… Not sure if Jisung has told you about her. She’s human, and she’s very important to me. If joining your pack of werewolves means I can’t see her anymore then I’m not doing it’, Minho loved Jisung, and he had a good impression of Chris and Changbin, but, truly, if joining them meant he had to leave you behind, he’d much rather stay on his own.

He knew from Jisung that the moment you moved into a werewolf den, a lot of decisions had to involve the alpha’s approval, and considering you were human, Minho had a genuine fear of Chris telling him that humans simply weren’t allowed. He’d honestly much rather shoot himself in the leg than have to cut ties with you. You’d been the only constant in his life, and losing you was something he just couldn’t afford. You meant too much to him. Maybe more than he would’ve liked to admit back then.

Thankfully, Chris didn’t seem to have major issues with that. If anything, all he did was ask to meet you before you could stay at his den, and as long as you were someone that could be trusted, he wouldn’t have any problems with your presence at the den. That was fine, there was no doubt in Minho’s mind that Chris would like you and see just how nice you were.

He had obviously been right. Your first time meeting Chris couldn’t have gone more smoothly. Not even fifteen minutes passed and he was already dragging Minho to the side and telling him it was all good. 

‘I think she’s nice. It’s fine by me if your kitten drops by or stays over whenever you guys want’, Chris had patted him on the back, with a teasing grin on his face, taking special care to stress the word kitten–which was a nickname Minho had given you randomly one day years ago while trying to cheer you up.

Giving you that nickname had been a moment of weakness, a moment in which he also had been sad and his inhibitions had lowered a bit. The pet name just fell out of his mouth, it had practically been a perfect textbook definition of a Freudian slip, considering Minho had, quite stupidly, developed a crush on you by then.

Chris was a good person, but he also seemed to enjoy teasing Minho whenever his more than obvious crush presented itself, even when Minho himself was in denial about it.

Minho was convinced you didn’t feel anything other than platonic love towards him, so he always tried to delude himself into thinking he absolutely didn’t have a crush on you. You were his best friend, one of the most important people in his life, and he would never risk losing you over what he believed to be unrequited feelings.

Sometimes, though, it was almost impossible not to think about you in ways that would definitely be considered inappropriate. It was easy in his day to day life, but, twice a year, he had to face the fact that his feelings for you went beyond your friendship…

Minho was well aware that he was a weird guy. Throughout his life, he had only ever cared about animals, Kamen Rider, and you and Jisung. He could hardly hold a normal, civil conversation if it didn’t involve any of those things, he said things and had odd habits that could potentially put off people around him, and that was only on his human side. His wolf side was a whole other can of worms.

He already had a hard time understanding his basic human needs, and that seemed to triple when it came to his animal needs. For a long time he couldn’t tell when he needed to go on a run, or when he was in a bad mood because of a weird scent around him, and no need to even get started on whatever the hell was happening with his ruts…

Figuring out that he now had to go through days of unbearable horniness was by far one of the weirdest experiences Minho ever had to deal with during this whole ‘being turned into a half animal’ thing. After he reached sexual maturity, twice a year, he had a time period of around four to five days when every single one of his instincts and senses pulled him into a trance-like state in which all he wanted to do was fuck.

But not only did he want to fuck… He specifically wanted to breed someone. And even more specifically, he wanted to breed you.

It was awful. The whole ordeal was physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausting.

The first time he went into rut, he was sure the pain he was feeling came close to the one he briefly felt back when he had been bit and turned. His body was increasingly warm, he was sweating buckets, his cock was hard for an almost criminal amount of time, and nothing he did made it better. 

Even if he managed to make himself come, it barely helped him feel relieved. If anything, it got him more frustrated, to the point where he would start breaking things around him–both intentionally and unintentionally.

The worst part of going into rut, though, was the thoughts he had throughout those days. He could only think of you. Of kissing you, of tasting those utmost sensitive areas of your body, of bending you over and ramming himself into you until he got tied to you and got to fill you to the brim with his cum…

Logic was something that didn’t exist for him in this time period, so those thoughts ran freely in his mind for the duration of his rut… thoughts that he had to come face to face once his rut subsided and he could think like a human again instead of a horny dog.

Needless to say, Minho couldn’t look at your face for a whole month after he went through his first rut. He was haunted by the images his imagination had produced at the time, and he was convinced you didn’t deserve that, that he had somehow broken your trust. It was something he never spoke about with anyone. Not even Jisung. He made a vow to keep this a secret in order to protect your friendship.

Little did Minho know that his friendship with you didn’t need to be protected from anything…

Many years after his first rut, sharing a bed with you during one fateful trip to the woods with the whole pack, was all it took for the line of your friendship to blur completely. Minho had been in denial about his feelings for so long, he had been completely blind to your feelings.

That night, with his senses enhanced by the moon, with his animal instincts bubbling to the forefront of his human mind, that need for you seemed to be impossible to ignore. While he laid with you on that bed, under the covers, being your big spoon, he couldn’t help but get lost in how fast your heart was beating the tighter he hugged you, he was drowning in your lavender scent, and he genuinely didn’t want to be rescued.

You staring at his mouth for a moment too long while he hovered over you had suddenly ignited a spark of hope deep within him. That, added to your increased heart rate, and what he couldn’t mistake for anything other than arousal lingering in your scent, was quickly making him delirious.

‘Kitten… Why are you… Why are you looking at my mouth?’

‘Just thinking…’

‘About?’

‘Things I should not be thinking about’. 

After the words came out of your mouth, and with all the sensory inputs around him, Minho suddenly felt so incredibly stupid.

How had he never noticed that your body seemed to react to him in the same ways his did to you? How long had it been doing that? He had been blindsided by his own desperate attempts to not drive you away from him with his feelings, he had never noticed you looking at him in the same way he looked at you.

He wasn’t sure if it had been the moon reinforcing his stunted instincts just enough to enhance his questionable sense of awareness, but as he looked at you, as he saw just how blown your pupils were, as he watched you stare at his mouth, all caution flew out the window. For once, he decided to take a chance, and the moment his lips made contact with yours, the moment the tiniest of moans left your mouth with the contact, he just knew he had made the right choice.

Kissing you, after so many years of trying not to think of what it would feel like, was even better than he could’ve ever imagined. Minho was ravenous, desperate to feel as much of you as he possibly could, and you, very clearly, were in a similar state.

You both agreed–while still kissing, if he might add–that you needed to discuss the situation, but, admittedly, neither of you wanted to stop. So you didn’t, but only after reaching a compromise to talk about it later.

Minho honestly couldn’t even tell how many times you both had sex that night. It seemed like he’d entered a time pocket in which the only thing that mattered was indulging in each other’s body as many times as you possibly could.

By the time you were both thoroughly satisfied, he simply hugged you close under the covers, relishing the feel of your bare skin against his, relishing the feel of your head on his chest and his arms around your frame. Hugging you to sleep, especially this intimately, was everything he could’ve ever hoped for.

It wasn’t like he’d never hugged you to sleep. He’d shared a bed with you many times in the past, but doing it after having your lips on his, after knowing how it felt like to be inside you, and the mere idea that you reciprocated his feelings, was enough to make him fall asleep smiling to himself like a fool.

Even the next morning, when Minho woke up, still very much naked, when he turned around to find you already awake and looking at him, he couldn’t help but smile like a fool once again. Especially not when you were smiling so bright yourself.

“Morning”, you mumbled, immediately shuffling closer so you could tuck your head under his chin and hug his waist.

“Morning, kitten”, Minho pressed a kiss to the top of your head and hugged you even closer, slotting one of his legs between yours to further tangle your limbs together.

You just hummed, nuzzling his neck before you started to press kisses on it. Your soft lips on his skin sent a shiver down his spine, which certainly didn’t help ease the effects of morning wood.

Minho was drowsy, maybe even still horny, but he needed to have this conversation with you, or he was sure he’d explode. “Can we talk about it now?”

You pulled yourself away from his neck to look him in the eyes. Reaching forward with your hand, you pushed his hair out of his eyes, and the movement made them fall shut. “What do you wanna talk about?”

You kept playing with his hair for a bit, then traced the features of his face with the pad of one of your fingers, until his eyes opened again.

“I need to know where we go from here”.

You took a deep breath, mulling his words. Finally, you retracted your hand from his face to hold his hand instead. “Minho, I let you do things to me last night that I’ve never let anyone else do. I don’t know about you, but I hope where we go from here is a relationship”.

Minho couldn’t help but wonder then if he would ever stop smiling like a fool after all this. “So you’re my girlfriend now? Is this what we’re doing?”

“Only if you’re my boyfriend”, you chuckled, leaning in to press a brief kiss on his cheek.

Minho hugged your waist, and he pulled you closer into him. “Mmm… Your ex is gonna have a field day if he ever finds out”.

Your ex had spent the last leg of your relationship with him convinced you had cheated on him with Minho. During the big fight that led to your breakup, he had told you how obvious it was that Minho had feelings for you. At the time you just dumped his ass, and Minho, Jisung, and you spent a whole evening just dragging his name through the mud.

That relationship didn’t last long anyway. He was probably, in Minho’s opinion, the worst partner you had ever had. He was insecure, misogynistic, and manipulative. You hadn’t cheated on him, but Minho supposed there was one thing he had been right about… he did have feelings for you back then.

You scoffed at the mention of your ex, rolling your eyes. “Just like your ex probably will, too”.

Ah, Minho’s ex… It had been a long time since Minho had been in a relationship, but how could he forget the ex that made him choose between him and you?

He could admit it was an asshole move to be involved romantically with someone while having feelings for someone else, but back then he was so deep in denial he couldn’t even acknowledge what he felt for you. Regardless, you were still his friend, and he’d never choose anyone else over one of his friends. In his opinion, someone that cared about him would never make him choose in the first place.

“I guess we’ll have to let them froth at the mouth with rage and believe whatever they want to believe. That is, if they still care”, Minho chuckled, rolling you on your back to start pressing kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

That seemingly innocent act of smothering your face with kisses turned into a much less innocent mess of lips and tongues. Minho came to find out that making out with you was absolutely exhilarating, especially when it ended with his mouth between your legs.

Fucking you that morning might’ve not been the smartest move to make when you both were about to walk into a kitchen full of people with enhanced senses, but Minho figured that if anyone commented on it, he didn’t care. It wasn’t like he was going to keep it a secret, anyway.

Although, he’d admit that having Jisung scream it to everyone in the room caught him off guard. Just like learning that everyone had placed bets on whether Minho and you would get together last night also caught him off guard.

He figured he deserved that last one, considering he himself had also gotten the rest of the pack to place bets on whether Chris and his girlfriend would fuck last night or not…

In any case, other than the bet, the whole pack seemed to seamlessly embrace this new dynamic between you and Minho. After all, starting a relationship with you didn’t change things much.

You still lived almost an hour away from him, you still encouraged him to indulge in his interests, you still talked every day… If anything, the only major difference was that you met more frequently now. Seeing you weekly instead of monthly was certainly an improvement.

It was kind of amusing to Minho how everything was almost the same. He still took you places, still held your hand and hugged you and brushed your hair out of your face whenever he felt like it, but now he could let his fingers linger on your skin for longer, he could lean in and press a kiss wherever he wanted on your face, and, at the end of the day, he could take you home and fuck you dumb for as long as you’d let him.

There was only one thing, though, that seemed to be a problem… It was something he didn’t really want to acknowledge, but he knew would explode on his face at some point.

Minho was an animal.

Eventually, he’d go into rut, and knowing you, he was sure you’d want to help him go through it.

Minho had never spoken to you about his ruts, but he knew you’d learnt a great deal about it from the other girls at the den as well as Jisung. You’d never brought it up to him before, and he was sure it was because you simply knew he didn’t want to talk about it. 

Now that you were his girlfriend, it was only a matter of time before he’d have to face this problem head on. Because that was what this whole thing was to Minho… a problem. 

Even if during his rut all he could think about was you, he usually got violent. Very violent.

He’d punch walls and break numerous pieces of furniture and appliances, and having you there with him could put you at risk of getting caught in the cross-fire. If he ever hurt you, Minho would never, ever forgive himself. Especially when he just knew you would. You would make excuses for him, you’d enable him and his animal ways like you always did, and he just didn’t want to put you in that position.

Granted, he should’ve probably told you all this, and he had been hyping himself up to do it, but you had been faster than him. The night you finally asked him about his rut he had been severely unprepared to handle the situation.

Minho told you he wouldn’t spend his rut with you. He could’ve probably worded it better, but before he knew it the situation escalated and you were having an argument and he had unintentionally made you feel unwanted, which was just so far from reality…

He wanted to tell you just how much he wanted you, but before he could you’d put space between yourselves and left him there on his own. It was late at night when it happened, but he wasn’t necessarily worried for your safety when you left, because he just knew you’d either go to one of the girls’ flats or to Jisung’s.

Forty minutes after the whole ordeal, he received a text from Jisung confirming his suspicions. The younger wolf told him you were at his place and that he’d take care of you for the night, which Minho was immensely grateful for.

He spent the entire night tossing and turning, wondering how to best word his predicament so he wouldn’t inadvertently hurt you and make you feel unwanted again. Essentially, his reservations when it came to spending his rut with you had nothing to do with you, and all to do with him.

So, the next morning, he made his way to Jisung’s and waited patiently for you to wake up. Jisung had given him a rundown of what had happened the night before, without revealing too much of what you’d told him since he usually liked to keep your conversations as private as possible–just like he kept the conversations he had with Minho as private as possible whenever he spoke to you.

So, when you woke up, Minho immediately explained the situation. He confessed to you how he’d always wanted you, how he couldn’t stop thinking about you whenever he went into rut, and how he got incredibly violent during that time period, so violent he feared he would harm you in any way.

You understood, of course. You always did.

You apologised for jumping to conclusions, and for forcing him to talk about something when he was clearly not ready to do it, which he appreciated. He also apologised for not communicating properly, an apology that you also seemed to accept. At the end of the day, he understood why the whole thing happened in the first place, and he made a mental note to try and not keep things like these from you ever again. 

Funny thing, how the universe always seems to play with people like they were little pieces in a funky little game.

When Minho did go into rut, he was so out of it he completely forgot to let you or anyone else know. You had a tendency to drop by his place unannounced, which he didn’t mind, but that day, it was far from ideal, to say the least.

He was sweating, frustrated, in pain, and the second he heard the beeps of the front door’s lock and the smell of your scent hit him, he just lost it.

It was all a blur after that. He tried to hold back, to tell you to leave, but you didn’t. Of course you wouldn’t leave…

To his surprise, that violence that seemed to seep out of him whenever he went into rut wasn’t there. His thoughts were plagued with only you and your lavender scent and the need to pleasure you and to pump you full of his pups.

When he finally managed to do all that, he quickly realised that he’d only ever been violent because he couldn’t have you. In retrospect, he should’ve known. But he’d proven to be tone deaf enough to not understand what his needs were, and this clearly wasn’t an exception.

Nothing had felt quite as fulfilling as spending that rut with you. It was all he’d ever wanted and more. His almost endless supply of cum, his knot, his insatiable need to fuck and fuck and fuck… You’d taken it all like a champ, and even when he wasn’t that in tune with his inner wolf, he could still feel just how proud it was, how proud he was of you.

The word mate kept repeating over and over in his mind the entire time, and he supposed you were his mate, all things considered.

Forever was a big word, but Minho figured that, at least at that point in time, he couldn’t ever imagine his life with anyone else. Especially not now that you were finally sharing your feelings with each other after years and years of pining.

For all he knew, anything that could have potentially been a problem in his relationship with you had been addressed after that. Minho was happy, you were happy, and it all seemed to have taken its natural course.

Except for one maybe not so small thing…

Minho wanted you to move in with him. He’d honestly wanted it since before you got together. He missed you often, and he wanted to spend as much time with you as possible.

The distance during the week was starting to stress him out way more than he’d like to admit, and even if he’d been slowly making space in his flat for you, he knew he’d ask you sooner or later. He hadn’t brought the topic up after you got together because he knew your job was important to you, and moving in with him would probably mean you’d have to quit and find something else closer to where the den was.

He could offer to support you financially, but he just knew you wouldn’t have wanted that. The second you’d started working and being financially independent, you couldn’t imagine ever having to rely on someone else–that was what you had told him all those years ago, at least…

You moving in with him made so much sense, though. Some weekends, Minho would go over to your place, but you’d told him several times that you preferred his home over yours. You’d told him it was more lively, that you enjoyed the presence of the other pack members, and that the only thing you genuinely liked about your flat was that Sir Percival was in it.

Sir Percival was your elderly cat that you adopted when you were a child. He was one of the many cats Minho had rescued, and he was probably the reason you ever spoke to Minho in the first place. Back then, the day you met, you approached him only because he was trying to save Sir Percival’s entire litter that had been abandoned by the side of the road.

So, yes. You moving in with him to Chris’ den just made all the sense in the world to him. Especially at moments like these.

Whenever Minho got to lay on your bed like he was doing now, he could certainly understand why you felt that his flat was more homely. You hardly had any decor in your room, and the whole flat was in a similar state. You never particularly liked this place in the first place, but you stayed because it was close to work and rent was relatively cheap.

‘I’ll probably move out soon, so no need to go all in on the decoration’, you’d told Minho years ago when you moved in. You kept putting it off, and now here this place was, void of anything that would highlight your wonderful personality other than the cat toys littering the floor, and the cat tower in the corner of your living room.

Whenever Minho came over, Sir Percival always avoided coming to your room unless it was absolutely necessary. The cat had told Minho that if he ever walked in on them having sex again he’d purposefully ruin the mood by throwing up a hairball, so he preferred to stay in the living room, even if it meant he couldn’t sleep by your feet like he loved to do.

That was fair, Minho supposed. He didn’t feel comfortable having Sir Percival in the room when you were getting intimate, either, so he appreciated the privacy. 

Right now, though, since he had woken up in the middle of the night and hadn’t been able to fall asleep again, he was wondering if he should go out and bring Sir Percival to bed. Maybe his warmth and his purring could help him fall asleep again…

Unlike Minho, you were sleeping soundly next to him, with your back turned to him. If he stood up from this bed he might wake you up, and he didn’t want you to be in his situation… So he settled on focusing on your steady breathing while he waited for sleep to claim him again.

It was just as he was almost asleep again that a minute sound made his body jerk awake. 

It came from you. It was a whimper, barely even audible. But how could he not hear it with his enhanced senses? When you were so close?

It would’ve worried him, had the smell of your arousal not knocked the air straight out of his lungs.

Minho would’ve never imagined his sleepless night would’ve taken him to this intersection, but here he was. He realised he could do one of three things… One, he could ignore the fact that you were right there next to him, presumably having a wet dream… Two, he could wake you up to reenact whatever it was you were dreaming about… Or three, he could use this as an opportunity to indulge in something he hardly ever did…

Since he started a relationship with you, Minho and you had many opportunities to try new things. You were quite open to try any and every seemingly odd activity in the bedroom–be it anal, or role-play, or some light bondage, you were always down to try it. And when Minho brought up his little fantasy of touching you while you were asleep, you’d been more than ecstatic to try it out… To the point where he was sure if he hadn’t brought it up, you would’ve done so eventually.

There was something about the fact that you trusted him enough to let him do things to you while you were unconscious that excited him. Maybe it was a projection of all those nights back then that he’d spent trying not to fantasise about you when you slept together, or maybe it was simply the act itself that he inexplicably enjoyed… Regardless of what it was, your little whimpers had his mind clouding a bit.

Sometimes, before you fell asleep next to each other, you’d turn to him and tell him ‘Maybe I’ll wake up to a surprise tomorrow…’ with that lilt in your voice that just let him know exactly in which way you wanted him to wake you up. That had been the case last night, and Minho had considered doing it a bit later, when the sun was starting to rise at least. But he figured, since you were already having a bit of fun in your dreams, maybe a midnight treat wouldn’t hurt.

Scooting closer to you, his hand found your waist. He held you tight while he pressed his nose to your pulsepoint, right under your jaw. He could hear your blood flowing, your heart rate increasing, and the scent of your excitement had him almost salivating.

Dragging his hand from your waist to your hip, he carefully caressed your body over the fabric of your sleeping gown, just as he pressed his growing erection against your ass. A tiny moan escaped your mouth, but your steady heartbeat let him know you were still pretty much asleep.

Whatever it was you were dreaming about had you shuffling the tiniest bit, enough for your ass to rub against his crotch, and he could already feel a bit of wetness soiling the material of his sleeping shorts. His own fluids, to be precise. It was one of those things that shocked him after he turned, just how much fluid his body could produce. Be it saliva, or sweat, or cum… It was slightly inconvenient, but at the very least, you always seemed to enjoy it, so he supposed it wasn’t so bad.

Minho dragged his hand from where it’d been caressing your hip up your torso, stopping only when he was finally able to cup one of your breasts. He generously fondled and squeezed the flesh, not holding back one bit. If you woke up, you woke up, and if you didn’t, you didn’t. Simple as that.

Dragging the pad of one of his fingers over your stiffening nipple, he relished the way your heartbeat picked up, as well as the way you started to writhe a bit in his hold.

“You’re so soft, baby…” Minho couldn’t help but mumble against the skin of your neck, and you whined, almost like you were reacting to him. And maybe you were. He liked to believe that to be the case.

He pinched and twisted your nipple between his fingers, pressing kisses on your neck and grinding his now fully hardened length against your ass. “I wonder what you’re dreaming about, my kitten… Is it me? I hope it’s me…”

Minho was very quiet, but he hoped you could hear him even in your dreams. He figured you might’ve, considering how fast your heart was beating now.

He was genuinely planning on dragging this out for as long as possible, but when you mumbled something akin to his name, he simply couldn’t hold back any longer. He removed his hand from your breast after one final hefty squeeze, only to bring that same hand between your bodies. His digits made contact with your entrance, and he couldn’t help but take in a deep breath at just how wet you were.

He wondered how much of it was your own arousal, and how much of it was his own cum that might’ve remained there from when you had sex last night before going to bed. He didn’t come inside often, but when he did, the thought of you having a part of him within your warmth did things to him, it tickled a secluded area of his brain, and it certainly excited him. He supposed it was instinctual. One of those wolf things he hardly ever paid attention to.

Delaying no further, he freed himself out of his sleeping shorts, just enough to drag the tip of his cock up and down your drenched folds. Minho almost got winded when he heard the moan that came out of your mouth in response to his motions. Your lavender scent wrapping around every single one of his nerve-endings enticed him, and he just couldn’t deny himself anymore.

He usually preferred to make sure you were well stretched enough to take him in, but considering you’d been stretched plenty last night, he figured you’d be just fine. And he was proven correct when he finally pushed himself fully within your warmth, when the wetness between yours legs let him slide in with ease.

Minho couldn’t help but groan at the feeling, just as a moan of your own escaped your mouth.

“You’re so warm, baby…”

He pulled his hips back, only to push them forward to start a slow, pleasant rhythm. His hold was tight on your hip, your heart sounded like it was close to leaping out of your chest, and the second your walls clenched on his length, he just knew you’d wake up soon… You’d wake up exactly to what you had wanted.

“Oh–oh, Minho…”

There was no mistaking it anymore, your barely audible moans had slightly increased in tone, and you’d started to push your hips back a bit.

Minho just hummed in response, dragging his hand from your hip to your lower belly. You placed your own hand on top of his, lacing your fingers together and sighing contently.

The kisses he left on your neck and the exposed skin of your shoulder seemed to spur you on, the movement of your hips increased in pace, and he just increased his in return. He was mumbling nonsense against your skin, tightening his hold on your interlocked fingers, getting completely lost in the feel of your tight warmth around him.

Before he knew it, you had turned your body a bit, and he had pushed your legs apart to get better access to your heat.

With an arm below you for his hand to hold yours, he took advantage of this position by using his other hand to pull one of your legs over his hip and for his fingers to find their rightful place between your legs.

You just kissed him. You kissed him like you’d die if you didn’t, mumbling words of appreciation of your own between each kiss, broken up by moans and sighs and whimpers with every thrust of his hips and every circle drawn on your clit.

“You’re so good to me”, you mumbled, tightening your hold on his hand, moaning so prettily he almost blew then and there.

“And you to me”, he replied simply, picking up his pace, relishing your scent and your warmth and just… you.

Time always seemed to slow down whenever you had sex, especially at these hours of the night, to the point where he could never tell how long it’d been since that first thrust. All Minho could register was how incredibly good he felt, how your heart was thumping fast in your chest, and how hard you were clamping around his cock.

The sounds you made whenever you came undone under his touch and his motions were like music to his ears, they spurred him on, borderline urged him to come himself. And there was certainly hardly anything he would’ve enjoyed more right now than to blow his load while you were still spasming around him, while all you could mumble was his name, while all he could mumble was yours.

Your chest rose and fell with your deep breaths, and while the after effects of his orgasm still clung to every single one of his senses, you pulled him in for a slow, tender kiss. Minho immediately melted, holding you tighter and still enjoying the comfort of your inner walls.

When you pulled back from the kiss, he brushed his nose against yours, making you smile and giggle, and you sounded incredibly sleepy even after all that had transpired just minutes ago. He pulled you into his arms, entangling his legs with yours as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Everything was calm around you. The room was barely illuminated by the lampposts outside your windows, and Minho suddenly felt like humming a random song you’d been listening to earlier in the evening… So he did, all as he caressed your hair.

You nuzzled your face further into his chest, wrapping an arm around his waist and holding him tight. Right then, Minho figured that every choice he had ever made, that everything that had happened to him, had taken him to this moment, and if that were truly the case, then he honestly wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

“Babe?” You mumbled, the sound slightly muffled against the fabric of his vest top.

“Hm?” Minho kept caressing your hair, your back, holding you close and keeping you there.

“I love you”.

He honestly couldn’t help but smile. Of course he knew you loved him. You’d shown him just how much countless times before. Not only throughout your relationship, but way before that… He’d honestly known since that time you hugged him when he had shapeshifted into a wolf the very first time.

“I love you, kitten, baby… So much”.

You pulled away from his chest and looked at him, with a blinding smile on your face. Granted, he could hardly see it in the dark room, but he saw enough. Enough to know just how much you cared. 

But alas, Minho was first and foremost your best friend, and even if he was melting on the inside with your confession, he just had to be annoying about it. “I can’t believe you beat me to say it first, though. I won’t ever forgive you”.

You gasped dramatically, bringing a hand to your mouth for emphasis. “Here I am? Baring my heart to you? And this is what I get? Fine, I won’t ever forgive you for never forgiving me”.

You were just about to turn away from him, he just knew. So he held you tighter, keeping you in place while he laughed. Your façade crumbled immediately, and you laughed with him, all while he kept pressing kisses on your cheeks.

“Guess I’ll just have to say it as much as possible to get the upper hand”, Minho mumbled against your cheek, just before he started leaving behind an ‘I love you’ after every kiss he pressed on your heated skin.

When your chuckles died down, and he was satisfied with the amount of times he had professed his love, silence enveloped you both once again. Minho simply laid on his back, hugging you close as you laid your head on his chest, right over his heart.

He wasn’t sure if it was the admittance of his feelings, or the hormonal rush of a good fuck, or your lavender scent that seemed to make him delirious sometimes, but, before he knew it, the words were coming out of his mouth with no way to stop them.

“Would you like to move in with me?”

No take-backsies now, he supposed.

You took in a deep breath, but remained silent for a moment.

It was just as Minho was about to panic that you finally spoke. “Do you think Chris would accept Sir Percival into the pack as well? I’m not leaving him behind”.

Minho couldn’t help but chuckle. “He’ll have to. Otherwise I’ll threaten him until he does”.

It was all a bluff… mostly.

Minho would respect any decision Chris took, but if it came to it, he kind of knew that if he laid out why it was important to him to take in both you and Sir Percival, Chris would agree, so he wasn’t particularly worried. Sir Percival already respected Chris, from what Minho knew, so he was almost ninety percent sure it wouldn’t be a problem.

You took in another deep breath, pulling yourself away from Minho’s hug so you could straddle him instead. With your full weight on his body and your hands on his chest, you looked down at him, taking in his features.

“I guess I’ll need to start applying for jobs, then”, you just smiled brightly at him.

Minho held your waist, smiling at you in return right before he pulled you down for a kiss. With you and Sir Percival there at the den, his family would finally be complete, and he felt as if his heart was about to burst at the thought.

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General Masterlist Minho's WereRoomies Instalments: Camping With Wolves & Dog Unleashed

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Capitol Punishment III

Haymitch x Reader

Summary: The Capitol continues to torture it’s victors no matter how long ago they won through punishment, exploitation, and worst of all; their relationships.

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol.

Warnings: Canon level violence, rape (though never explicit), alcohol, murder, systemic poverty, exploitation, rebellion (?), more reliance on movie than book, suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 3.0K

Part II | Masterlist | Part IV

You, Cinna, and Effie were all eagerly sat on the couch in the living room of the penthouse waiting for Katniss and Peeta to return from their individual session with the game makers. You were discussing game outfits with Cinna when Effie suddenly interrupted you. “Y/N where is Haymitch?” she demanded.

“Calm down,” you began, “he’s down in the training area waiting for them.”

Before Effie could huff anymore the elevator dinged and out stepped the tributes and Haymitch. Haymitch made a beeline for the bar again as Katniss and Peeta approached the couch. “So how’d it go?” you asked.

“Katniss shot an arrow at them,” Peeta jumped in to answer.

“Peeta!” Katniss scolded.

“Katniss!” Effie shrieked. “Why would you do such a thing?”

As Haymitch rounded the couch, drink in hand, he gave Katniss an emphatic thumbs up. You were glad to she a smile tug at her lips, probably the first since she’s gotten here. “Calm down,” Haymitch told Effie as he sat next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“Calm down? This reflects badly on all of us!” she huffed.

Haymitch just ignored her. “Tell Y/N what you said,” he laughed.

Katniss chuckled, looking down at her hands. “Thank you for your consideration.”

Haymitch laughed again, repeating the line as Caesar Flickerman appeared on the screen, rattling off numbers until he got to District 12. “From District 12: Peeta Mellark. 8.” Everyone erupted into excited gasps until they were quelled by Caesar’s voice. “Katniss Everdeen. An 11.”

Had you not gotten so good at keeping your face blank, your jaw would’ve dropped. An 11? That was practically unheard of. “I thought they hated me,” Katniss said in disbelief.

“They must’ve liked your guts,” Haymitch answered.

“And your accuracy,” you added.

Cinna then stood up, glass raised. “To Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire!”

~

You and Haymitch were stood with the other victors and tributes who had already gone, huddled around the screens displaying the tributes’ interviews. You watched intently, the career districts dazzling the audience as always. As for the poorer districts they were all clearly very uncomfortable, boring the audience. You had been a lot like them. You were very uncomfortable with the skin tight, almost sheer dress you had been put in and you gave short, quiet answers to Caesar’s questions.

You watched as Katniss entered the stage looking dazed, tension clawing at your throat. “She’s gonna pass out,” you commented to Haymitch who had a hand rested on your hip.

“She’ll be fine. She’s the girl on fire, people will eat it up.” You only nodded, eyes still locked on the screen as Caesar welcomed her to the stage.

Caesar made a comment, waiting for a reply but all he got was a “What?” from Katniss.

“I think someone’s a little shy,” he laughed gently. “I said that was quite and entrance that you've made at the Tribute's parade the other day. Do you want to tell us about it?”

“Well, I was just hoping that I wouldn't burned to death.”

The crowd erupted into laughter, meanwhile Katniss still looked like she was going to throw up. “When you came out of that chariot, I have to say… My heart stopped. Did any of you experience this as well?” he asked the crowd which let out an applause. “My heart stopped.”

“So did mine,” Katniss breathed, earning another laugh.

“They love her,” you said in awe.

“Yeah they’re liking the vulnerability and the girl on fire thing,” Haymitch said, taking a swig from his drink.

“Now tell me bout the flames. Were they real?” Caesar asked.

“Yes,” Katniss answered with a slight smile. “In fact I'm wearing them today. Would you like to see?”

You clutched Haymitch’s blazer as the crowd began cheering.

“Wait wait wait. Is it safe?” Caesar asked. Katniss smiled and nodded, standing up. She faced the audience before spinning around, flames erupting from the bottom of her gown. “Woah woah woah! Steady!” Caesar called as Katniss’s spins slowed. He helped her sit back down, giving her a second to gather herself. “Katniss, that was something. That was something. Thank you for that. I have one more question for you. It's about your sister,” he paused for a second taking her hand. “We were all very moved, I think when, you volunteered for her at the reaping. Does she come to say goodbye to you?”

“Yes,” Katniss’ voice echoed across the now silent audience. You could see everyone looking incredibly sympathetic towards her.

“And what did you say to her in the end?”

“I told her that I would try to win. That I will try to win for her.” The crowd ‘awed.’

“Of course you did. And try you will,” Caesar said solemnly before take her hand and standing up. Back to him normal, excited presenter self he yelled, “Ladies and gentlemen, from District 12, Katniss Everdeen, The Girl On Fire!”

“They ate that up,” Haymitch celebrated, jostling you a bit. “Sponsors will be clamoring to help her.”

Katniss then walked in, spotting you and Haymitch just as Peeta was entering the stage. “Nice job, sweetheart,” Haymitch complimented. “And nice dress.”

“Thanks,” she muttered before turning her attention to the screen.

Peeta was sat on the chair next to Caesar, looking very comfortable with the spotlight. “How are you finding the Capitol? Don't say with a map,” Caesar said with a laugh.

“Uh, it's uh… different. It's very different,” Peeta said with a suave smile.

“Different? In what way? Give us an example.”

“Uh okay, well the showers here are weird.” The crowd laughed.

“Showers?”

“Yes.”

“We have different showers,” Caesar told the audience.

“I have a question for you Caesar,” Peeta leaned up a little. “Do I smell like roses to you?” he asked very seriously even.

“Um…” Even Caesar, a seasoned professional, seemed surprised by the question.

“Do I?” He seemed especially surprised when Peeta leaned closer, gesturing Caesar to smell him. “Do I?”

“Yeah,” Caesar agreed. “Do I smell like it?” The audience once again roared with laughter as Peeta smelled the host.

“You definitely smell better than I do,” Peeta said, leaning back.

“Well I’ve lived here longer.”

“That makes sense.”

None of the other tributes’ interviews held a candle to Peeta’s. The Capitol was eating up his charming banter and they had adored Katniss’ awkwardness coupled with her image as the girl on fire. You glanced around the room, finding the career tributes sending side eyes to Katniss. Some were trading their glares between Katniss and her district partner on the screen.

You were brought from your thoughts by Caesar’s next question. “So Peeta tell me… is there a special girl back home?”

Peeta chucked bashfully. “No, not really.”

“No? I don't believe it for a second. Look at that face. Handsome man like you, Peeta. Tell me.”

Peeta licked his lips, the only sign of nervousness tonight. “Well, there a… there's this one girl that I had a crush on forever. But I don't think she actually recognize me until the reaping.”

“Well… I'll tell you what Peeta. You go out there and you win this thing. And when you get home, she'll have to go out with you. Right folks?” The crowed cheered.

“Thanks but I uh… I don't think winnings gonna help me at all.” Peeta was picking at the arm of his chair, not making eye contact. “Because she came here with me.” All three of you froze, both you and Haymitch slowly turning to look at Katniss. She had a look of shock that slowly morphed into anger.

The crowd broke out into sounds of sympathy and shouts of support.

“Well, that's bad luck,” Caesar said, surprised again for the second time this interview.

“Yeah. It is.”

“And I wish you all the best of luck.”

~

You, Haymitch, and Katniss headed towards the elevators, Katniss still silently fuming. Once you pressed the button, Peeta rounded the corner to meet you. Katniss made a beeline for him, pushing him over into a table, knocking over a vase which broke. “What the hell was that?” she demanded.

“Stop it!” Haymitch yelled, standing between them.

“He made me look weak,” she seethed.

“He just did you a favor,” Haymitch countered. “He made you look desirable. Which in your case can’t hurt sweetheart.” Ice rushed through your veins as you realized what Peeta just did to Katniss should she be the one to come out of the games.

You stepped over broken glass, towards Peeta. “C’mon,” you said, gesturing to help him up. He reached up towards you but stopped when he saw blood coming from hi palm. “It’s okay,” you dismissed his concerns about getting you dirty, “we’ll get that bandaged up.”

He took one of your hands with his non-injured one, allowing him to stand up. “We’ll go to the infirmary. See you up there?” Haymitch nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before facing the elevator once more.

You led Peeta down the hall, finding the training room and the infirmary just off of it. “Hello?” you called, expecting someone to be there. You got no reply.

“I don’t think anyone’s here,” Peeta said, still applying pressure to his palm.

“Yea, me too. Why don’t you sit down, I’ll find some gauze and bandages,” you requested, guiding him towards a chair. You then went into one of the back rooms, finding all the supplies you’d need. You grabbed them, walking back out towards Peeta. “Let me see,” you tugged on his hand, squatting down. “So, was that thing about Katniss real?” you asked, dabbing blood away from the wound.

“Yeah,” he said bluntly, seeming to have nothing else to lose. “I used to watch her walk by to school every day.”

“Well, sorry she kind of rejected you,” you laughed. Fortunately he did too.

“Yeah, definitely one of the harsher rejections.”

“Well if it’s any consolation, the sponsors absolutely loved you.”

“Hey, what’s your deal with sponsors?” Peeta asked. You froze, trying not to show it. “I mean you change whenever sponsors are mentioned.”

You huffed. No point in keeping this kid in the dark. “Because the sponsors who saved my life feel… entitled to me. And it’s become this situation where people pay Snow, and in return they get me for the night.”

“Oh…” Peeta said. “I’m sor-”

“Don’t be,” you cut him off. “It’s the price I pay for getting to love Haymitch. If not for him, I’d be long gone by now.”

“Do the people know about you and Haymitch?”

“No, Snow wants me to seem available. Even if we were allowed to be a couple publicly I doubt it’d change much. The Capitol loves to take things from the districts. I suppose my… predicament is also Haymitch’s punishment.”

“Can I ask— and I don’t mean to be rude—” you laughed internally at that. You were pretty sure this kid didn’t have a rude bone in his body. “Why are you with Haymitch? He’s like 15 years older than you and an alcoholic.”

You chuckled a little at the ridiculousness of it. Many others who knew about your relationship had asked you the same. “Because he was there for me my entire games. Even after he was beaten down by the Capitol and cynical about the world, he was there for me, meanwhile I had absolutely no one else. I won my games out of spite… Haymitch has become my only reason to live.” Peeta sat speechless, not sure what to say. “C’mon,” you said, taping down his bandage, “let’s get you to bed.”

You headed upstairs, making small talk as if you hadn’t just poured out your heart to this kid. You made your way into Haymitch’s room where he was laying on the bed, watching a holographic television. “Hey, how’s the kid?”

“He’ll be fine, just sucks he has to go into the arena with a cut open hand,” you said, lying down next to Haymitch. He rolled closer to you, pulling down the neckline of your dress a little, revealing bruises you didn’t cover up with makeup. Your presence had been requested by a Capitol man not long after Katniss’ 11 was announced. As he was using your body he demanded to know how Katniss scored an 11 and when you refused to tell him, he got violent until a couple avoxes that had been in the room had to pry him off of you.

“They’re getting more violent,” Haymitch noted, an edge of anger in his voice. “Y/N this is getting really dangerous.”

“There’s nothing either of us can do about it,” you sighed. “I’m doing this until I’m no longer desirable.”

“You’ll always be desirable to me,” Haymitch murmured, pressing his lips to yours. He rolled more so he was on top of you, sliding his hands down your body.

You placed a firm hand on his chest, pressing against him. Taking the hint Haymitch pulled away from you. “Not right now, I want to wash him off me first.”

“Yeah, of course. Take as much time as you need,” he said, pressing a peck to your lips before getting off of you.

~

The next morning both you and Haymitch walked Peeta to his tube, Katniss having decided to go with Cinna, the two of them becoming close over the past couple days.

“Remember, run away from the Cornucopia, nothing in there is worth getting killed in the first two minutes,” you advised. “If you join an alliance leave early, remember no one in there is your friend. Only one person comes out.”

Peeta nodded nervously, standing in front of the platform.

“I really do, sincerely hope I get to see you again,” you said, pulling him into a hug.

As you stepped back, Haymitch reached forward, taking Peeta’s hand, shaking it. “We’re going to try our best to help you in there.”

You watched nervously with the other victors as the time counted down. “3… 2… 1.” The tributes ran to the cornucopia. You watched as Peeta ran off into the woods along with two others. As for Katniss she ran towards the cornucopia, stopping only a couple feet in. She looked around, trying to figure out what to do as you internally cursed her for not having a plan.

Fortunately all the career tributes who had weapons were too distracted, slaughtering the others tributes who also went for supplies. Which gave Katniss enough time to decide to grab a backpack further away from the cornucopia than the weapons. She was suddenly knocked to the ground by another fleeing tribute before he was taken down by the girl from District 2 with the knives. She flung another one at Katniss which would’ve hit her in the chest had she not used the backpack as a shield. Taking the knife out of the backpack, she ran for the trees. Fortunately the girl with the knives lost interest in Katniss.

By the time the bloodbath was over there were 11 dead children, and you needed a drink. Seemingly reading your mind, Finnick appeared with a whiskey. “Sorry about your tribute,” you muttered into the drink.

Finnick shrugged sadly. “He was only 12. Didn’t have much of a chance anyways. Just sad that no one volunteered for him.”

“Yeah,” you agreed softly.

“I see your human torches are still alive. Congratulations.”

You chuckled. “Yeah well only one listened to me. Katniss got lucky the other careers didn’t target her as soon as that timer went off.” You looked over at Cashmere, Gloss, Brutus, and Enobaria who were observing their tributes as they officially formed their alliance. Every other tribute had either fled or laid dead, leaving them in control of all the weapons and supplies.

Suddenly, Peeta and the boy from District 3 came out of the woods, hands raised high in surrender. “No Peeta,” you whispered under your breath as Beetee came over to you.

“They’ve formed an alliance,” he commented.

“Yeah one that’ll get them killed as soon as they eliminate their biggest threat: Katniss.”

“I think Byte will prove to be a bit more useful to the careers than yours,” Beetee said in a slightly excited way. “No offense.”

“None taken,” you muttered. It wasn’t uncommon for victors to take pride in their tributes, especially the ones that had a shot at winning. No one wanted to watch the child they had just trained for a week get slaughtered.

“Sorry about your tribute Finnick,” Beetee said. Finnick only hummed a response.

You all watched as Peeta and Byte acquired the careers’ trust. With Byte saying he could rig the explosives to protect their supplies. And Peeta promising that he could help find Katniss. Finnick sucked air through his teeth. “Cold blooded. Say you’re in love with the girl from your district only to create an alliance to hunt her down.”

“Unless he’s slitting all their throats in their sleep, they’re going to kill him the first chance they get,” you said.

Suddenly peacekeepers entered the room, making a beeline for you and Finnick. Seeing the threat, Haymitch was immediately by your side, wrapping a protective arm around your waist.

“Finnick Odair,” you silently breathed a sigh of relief, “your presence is requested.” Finnick huffed, used to the drill, before handing you his drink and begrudgingly heading off with them.

“Glad it wasn’t you. I don’t think your body could handle it,” Haymitch muttered against your hair in relief, referring to the wounded state you had been returning to him in.

Part II | Masterlist | Part IV

[as8bakwthesage]

My Experience With Lily Orchard + Fuck Her

Now, if those of you who know me or have been following me for a while will know that I used to be a massive Lily Orchard fan. I used to support her, I defended her, and I was once a member of her patron even.

I’ve heard stories from people, former friends, former fans, about how much of a manipulating and nasty bitch she is. At best, she’s lashed out at fans for drawing innocuous fanart and for bringing up topics in stream that she doesn’t approve of (I’ve been there, I’ve seen it), and at worst she’s a lying abusive cunt who can’t help but make people around her miserable.

And while I’ve not been the subject of Lily’s abuse, I have been witness and bore the blunt of her passive aggressive horseshit, her manipulating situations to make me appear like a cunt for daring to correct her on an opinion of a book she never fucking read, her shamelessly putting me on blast in one of her videos where she insinuated I was stupid for asking a question about LGBT+ rep, for telling me and other fans to stop talking when we tried to defend our positions in chat.

I’ve had to walk on eggshells around her because I feel like every word I say or anything I do will be seen as an attack on her despite me being a fan of hers for literally fucking years and she knows this. I’ve been a fan of hers since I was 15-16 and I’m 22 now. With no other content creator have I felt the need to be so fucking careful of what I say.

And when I sent her an ask telling her that her yelling at others on stream for seemingly no reason was actively triggering me (mind you, in the nicest way possible because I couldn’t hurt Ms. Orchard’s feewings oh nuuuu) she ignored my ask. Do I have proof she saw it? No. Is she a large enough content creator that she receives so much interaction/asks on her tumblr that my ask got swallowed? Also No.

If you’re a Lily Orchard fan, I am not a needless hater, I am not a stalker or a troll or a bigot. I’m a transgender and biromantic/asexual person myself who is Native and actively participates in activities regarding my tribe and culture. I’m white passing like Lily is. I used to be a fan of hers for fuck’s sake and an active one too.

But here’s the thing - she’ll suck you in with her bold commentary and criticisms and some of it is genuinely really thought provoking and interesting. On the outset she has a “no tolerance for abusers” policy and she’s charismatic to an audience of teenagers who were being abused. Fuck, she helped me realise I was being abused and when the Toonkritic shit came out, that slowly started to help me realise I was being groomed by my exe (TheHauntedReader)

I convinced myself for the longest time that just because Lily wrote “Stockholm” that it didn’t mean anything. That all of her weird takes and opinions were just a quirky “haha i did this in my youth and i regret it” moment. But this isn’t 13-year-old me writing weird fanfiction between an adult and a child when I didn’t fucking know any better and was being actively groomed and abused, this was an adult who wrote CP and romanticised it and tried to get away with it and who should have known better!

And once you are a fan of hers, it’s hard not to become emotionally invested, especially if you’ve always seen her behaviour as normal, which I did. A lot of her fans are abuse/trauma survivors and she knows that. So many of us have confided to her that she helped us realise we could be happier and that we could escape. That we were more than our abuse. These are powerful things to talk about.

But she doesn’t care about us. Never has. Never will. She convinced me and has convinced others that us asking her stupid/silly questions is damaging to her. That it’s caused her so much emotional damage and stress that she can justify lashing out and verbally abusing her audience, y’know - the people who gave her a career. By her own admission, she hates us, but expects our support when she’s being harassed??

Girl, fuck off.

But that is just my own experience. I’ve seen some shit in the past couple of days that I can’t unsee and I encourage you all to look into it because it’s such a dark hole that the phrase “stare into the abyss for too long and it stares back” is what I feel like right now.

And I know why I feel like this - I invested energy and money and emotions into this woman and her channel. I’ve supported her. And no, Lily, this is not about me wanting to be your friend. It’s about me asking for some fucking decency as someone you at least know of and at most you know supported you? To not lie and misrepresent what I’ve said and then vaguepost about me?

Have I made mistakes? Yes. But that’s no excuse to berate and yell at people who have only asked stupid questions or fuck, even made goddamn harmless jokes??

Also, if fans/friends of Lily’s are harassing @asunnycoffee you guys are the fucking worst. Don’t fucking attack my friend you raging cunts. I have a couple ideas of who you might be, but I know you won’t air out your dirty laundry with me, Ginger.

You guys are pathetic.

Lily doesn’t care about her fans, she doesn’t care about her friends, and she’s certainly not going to start anytime soon.

[marinagail]

@marqenobi thank you for asking my thoughts on Berlin show.

First of all, first time they mentioned the spin off I was very excited. I love LCDP so much, even some of the things I disagree in later seasons, season 4 & 5. Still, my god. It was authentic, thrilling, made you doubt that this teams could ever get away. Both heists were very AMAZING, one of a kind. The show that never been created like that.

The mint heist still and will always be my Fav. But the Gold heist, it was Grand. The mint heist was like Classic Noir Suspense, thrilling and dramatic, holding my breath most of the time. The gold heist was loud, a touch of war, a test for the humanity, shocking, and didn't give us the audience mercy by UNAFRAID to kill our fav characters 😢 both heists were showing us a very thin line between bad guys and good guys. Okay i'll stop ranting now before it gets too long lol.

Now comes the Spin off. Berlin fans favorite.

We expected the background stories of this maniac, his sly and intelligence ways to do the robberies. Why he never get caught. (This one I believe it had something to do with Sergio). And other things that We're so excited to found out about this man. I don't think fans care whether he turns out to be worse than we want him to, or not as evil as the fans thought he might. Fans would love any kind of representation on his arc. And this is why I love fan base, they can cook whatever there is in canon and made their own interpretation on him. It'd be fun. But not the overly obsessed in love with a stranger middle aged man.

When I watch the spin off. I finished them in one day lol. I'm sure some of us did somehow. We've been waiting. If I can be honest,

Berlin is the worst character on his own show. First, the fashion. That man cares about his look, his fashion is quite bad there. I'm sorry. The turtle neck is too much.

Second, Andres in LCDP season 1&2 were a fucking professional who would kill a witness, Advicing sergio to kill Angel in the hospital to cut a loose end, and other rational smart decisions in regard for his teammates, which some of them I agreed with him. That's why He's known to be a ruthless professional with a brain. That's what makes him worth to be the Captain that you can actually depended on.

Andres in the Spin off looks like a cartoonic character chasing a woman he fell in love with in 5 seconds, and for those who haven't watched, that's what He'll be doing until the end of the show. He forgot about Everything and it makes me so mad, because he doesn't care about his teammates, doesn't give a shit about the plan, he looks more of a dumbass than Arturo. A professional thief would never did that, especially if He's the one who leads the team.

The kind of love story is almost similar to Sergio and Raquel. The difference is Sergio really were a fucking cruel professional. Sergio still rational even when he knows He's falling for her. But his priority is the plan, the teammates, to get them out safely. He's willing to leave Raquel and even thinking of killing her mother (lol), ruin Raquel's career and possibly life, ALL PART OF THE PLAN. it wasn't just a sudden choice, it was all planned down to the last details, and that is the cruelest most ruthless Romance and revenge to the cops, that one could possibly think or interpret what Sergio experience weren't love but infatuation and adrenaline in the midst of heist. I'd like to talk about this some other time, it's gonna pissed off some Serquel fans. But We're not here for that.

Whereas Andres, the cold hearted Sociopath, he chased down Camille into the elevator and kissed her (cringe), singing Felicita with Damian with no care while his team being chased down by the cops (ok). Taking care of camille's best friend's kid (wtf), going to see Camille's husband in Jail and offer him help, because he is so in love with her, and tried to freed him. what is the point of helping her husband? What does he get from it?! I mean... They want to make him look like the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man lol.

They also tried so hard to make him look like a psychopath but failed, the worst trials. First he threatened that guy in the opening scene, that was quite good actually, probably the best scene in the show, but it went down hill from there. Second, looking at the fork in the restaurant because he's angry lol, Alex Pina. You don't have to do that. That was very unnecessary. Andres killing a guy in the restaurant with a fork is done. And no need to remake that scene. And then, he threatened the Lawyer, I just realized that Andres is all talking, and talking, trying to scare people with his threats. Nothing much.

Third, the heist in the spin off. The advertisement of Berlin Spin off is that the Red Gem that They're gonna steal. The mystery heist we've been waiting for. And in the spin off, I don't know when did the heist ended. Just like that. What did they steal anyway? Only jewels. There weren't any red gem. How much? And what about the tunnel they made under the chapel? Did they just leave it like that? There are too many loose ends and of course the heist, the plan weren't great. I can say it was a very bad bad robbery, and an easy one too. No wonder sergio and martin weren't there. No need for the masterminds help.

The members of the crew were just like bad copies of the original. Nobody can change my mind on this. Tried so hard to bring back the old vibe gang, doing Everything wrong in this show and they have the audacity to promote it by saying "We're making a thing better than the LCDP". At least have some respect with the former show. The former actors also work hard to achieve a great show together.

Damian and his problem with his wife, Cameron and her past which Nobody cares, Roi (rafael 0.2) that's why andres asked him to wear glasses. Perhaps it reminds him of his son. But how does he know how his son looks like when he never ever seen him? (Season 5 plot), Bruce (i've got no problem with bruce, the dude didn't try too much, He's cool), kaila (Surprisingly I like keila more than the rest. She's not Trying to be somebody in the past, she's more of a fresh character than Berlin ever could).

Now Alicia and Raquel. They were meh. Their dialogue were bad. The chances of these two could thrive in Berlin if they have their own story. Instead of forcing their friendship on our faces. I was excited about their roles. But it turns a bit forced??? Idk if it's just me I guess.

The whole story line could work if they focus more about the robbery. And see where the characters develop from there. I thought perhaps if they gonna ruin Berlin character at least perhaps with a great heist plot could save this spin off. But it turned out to be a bad heist nobody even really care about.

Still there are some moments where berlin were tolerable and ofc great on some scenes. I have HUGE respect on Pedro for his acting skill but even a great acting skill couldn't save a bad plot and direction. The potential were there, but they are TOO focus on the Nostalgic that they ruined the chances to bring out the origin stories for Berlin.

The fans could do better tbh. Making gifts like @marqenobi did, or @pedroalonso did with their arts. And perhaps creating a better story lines like @roccinan fics for examples lol. About Berlermo and Hermanos. And others I too enjoyed very much. Since I guess we do it out of love for the characters themselves and not for anything else.

Strange that I still hope for more seasons you know why? Because I love the character. And yearn to see more of them. I was left disappointed. But what can I do but cringe all the way through watching berlin spin off.

Pedro you did great. But i'm sorry. Berlin spin off were very bad. And that's my honest opinion. If you have your own thought on this @marqenobi please don't hesitate to share yours too. Even if you disagree with me, I'd be delighted to hear another opinions. That's what i've been doing here on blogs reading different thoughts n opinions about things. Xoxoxo happy new year.

[bungandmunchpi]

Just wanted to write a little something about the shows I saw in New York before the Tony noms come out tomorrow! I never write long-form about the things I've seen any more so thought I'd indulge myself quickly.

Stereophonic, 13th April

Theatre twitter was abuzz about this when it was at Playwrights' Horizons and the transfer rumours were very exciting as we were planning our trip. We managed to nab some $40 seats in the rear mezz for previews and went with it as the first show of our week!

It's a great play, although I don't think totally deserving of the raves/five stars it's getting everywhere. It could do with some pruning in places and I think both Nancy and I thought the female characters were a little bit underwritten: I'd say the scenes where it's just the two of them discussing their careers and personal lives are the weakest of the play, although Sarah Pidgeon and Juliana Canfield are both fantastic. The rest of the cast is as well - it's stacked top to bottom, with six out of seven making their Broadway debuts which is thrilling! Will Butler's music is absolutely phenomenal, and the show really soars when the band kick into gear and are recording successfully: we were both nodding our heads and tapping along, and I can't wait for the album to come out on May 10th.

Shout-outs to basically everyone in the cast, as everyone gets their little (or large) moment, but I think Eli Gelb really anchors the thing and has a gorgeous arc, and Will Brill is incredibly funny and sad at the same time. Tom Pecinka is doing fantastic work too as the antagonist/engine of the show, and I've really enjoyed watching his Gold Derby interview where he speaks about the hostility he experiences from the audience a lot of the time, and how he processes that and stays true to the text without being tempted into making the character more likeable.

We stagedoored too and everyone was very lovely! We got to compliment Will on his British accent and meet Tom's dog Molly, who was totally over the two-show day and ready to be on her way (but very sweet with it). A great start!

Merrily We Roll Along, 14th April

This was the show I spent the most money on, and I went on my own as Nancy was off being immersed at Punchdrunk (/the McKittrick Hotel, apologies). I love Sondheim and I really love this show - I was introduced to it by Lonny Price's beautiful documentary The Best Worst Thing That Ever Could Have Happened, which I would really recommend even if you're not a big Sondheim/musical theatre person, as it deals with being creative and dreaming big at a young age, and how we adjust when those dreams aren't realised or turn sour. It felt very special to be seeing Merrily on Broadway, as I believe Sondheim used a lot of his own early experiences in the theatre to make it. So special in fact that just hearing the overture made me extremely emotional (although it's a different version/orchestration to the overture on the original cast recording, which is one of my favourites of all time).

It's brilliantly directed/somewhat reworked by Maria Friedman, and she's been credited with turning what was a notorious flop originally into an absolute smash off and on Broadway this season. I think she does a lot of good work but it's undeniable just how brilliant a lot of the songs in it are: when Daniel Radcliffe finished Franklin Shepherd Inc, the man sitting behind me exclaimed "what a number!" to his seatmates. The material in the second half in particular is extraordinary, and I thought all three leads were fantastic as the characters get younger and younger, with It's a Hit, Opening Doors, and Bobby and Jackie and Jack highlights. Our Time, the brutally optimistic climax of the show, had me tearing up as soon as it started, and I cried all the way through the curtain call, just because I felt so lucky to have been in that space experiencing that piece of work made by this team of cast and creatives.

Jonathan Groff, Lindsay Mendez, and Daniel Radcliffe are all phenomenal in it: I was expecting less from Daniel Radcliffe as I know he has the least musical theatre experience of the three, but he did a great job and brought so much humour to Charley, which I really enjoyed. Jonathan Groff's Growing Up is stunning and he just leads the show so well - he's a real star and would be very deserving of the Tony, which I have a feeling he may just land. Lindsay Mendez has been out of the show now and then so I was preparing myself not to see her and then was thrilled I got to: her voice is so solid and her arc was beautifully drawn, from Mary's acerbic comedy at the beginning of the show to her brightness as she's entering the creative world early on in her career.

In terms of emotion, this was probably the highlight of my trip, and I'm excited to see the production sweep a lot of awards in June!

An Enemy of the People, 17th April

As soon as this was announced, it started making my New York trip plans more concrete. I think Jeremy Strong is one of the best actors we have working today, and it was brilliant to see him onstage - I don't think he's done any theatre for a decade, and Circle in the Square is pretty intimate for a Broadway venue, so that was extremely exciting.

I was left a little cold by the production: I think that may be Amy Herzog's version, which gets through the nuts and bolts of Ibsen's play, but does so at quite a lick (the show runs about two hours with a five minute pause in the middle). The character work the actors are doing is beautifully detailed, so you really want to spend some more time with them all. Jeremy Strong is totally transformed from Succession, endearing and frustrating in equal measure, and he and Michael Imperioli work so well together as very different brothers. I saw Branden Jacobs-Jenkins' The Comeuppance recently at the Almeida, so it was fun to see Caleb Eberhardt and try to read him back into that play: I thought he was really fantastic and nuanced in Enemy, and would love to see him snag a Tony nom, although I think Featured Actor in a Play is insanely crowded (and I would hate to see any of the Stereophonic guys lose out).

Sam Gold's staging is nice although the space seems to be a little difficult to work in. There are some interesting details in the second half as things become less naturalistic, with characters remaining onstage to watch the action, and Jeremy Strong being Jeremy Strong has to put himself in some kind of physical peril (getting buckets of ice poured on him as the townspeople turn on Stockmann, leaving him wet through (and I presume freezing) for the rest of the show).

Overall this was good if not as impressive as I'd hoped, but it was amazing to see Jeremy Strong onstage and he again was lovely at the stagedoor, so I'd recommend that if you're interested!

Appropriate, 17th April

This was the best show we saw all trip, from the writing to the direction to the performances, and so brilliant that we didn't try very hard to get into something on the Thursday evening, as we didn't want to spoil the high we'd experienced the night before.

I love Branden Jacobs-Jenkins' writing, and the way he plays with drama as a form to create his shows. Appropriate sits in the tradition of American domestic drama, and it's harrowing and screamingly funny all in one go. Again a real thrill to see a cast this stacked, and fun to pick up another Succession cast member, with Natalie Gold so good in what could be a tricky role. Sarah Paulson leaves it all out there in the lead role, and does a fantastic job: another actor who isn't afraid to be unlikeable, and who goes deep in the cruelty she exhibits towards other characters. Corey Stoll does some great, solid work too, and Michael Esper is so SO good as Franz. The role is so disruptive and interesting and gross and funny, and he does a beautiful job. Nancy and I really bonded over the production of The Glass Menagerie he was in in London in 2017, so it was wonderful to see him onstage again and to see him bring it so hard.

The design elements of Appropriate are phenomenal too, particularly the final sequence, which I won't spoil but is one of the most extraordinary things I've seen done onstage.

That was the trip!! I had a brilliant first ever week in New York and the best time seeing my first shows on Broadway: I was very sad to leave but it's made me really excited to see great work in London over the summer, and I'm ready to start saving up again to go back!

[kitwilsonsass]

I think the thing that's fucking with my brain the most is the separation of fact and fiction because it's like... we spent years being told that Bray was this unkillable character that would always come back no matter what, and now it's just like...I have to remind myself that in reality he was just a normal guy, it's weird.

It's..... yeah.

Okay - I'm gonna get real wordy and wax poetically and I'm so sorry I'm incapable of just talking and crying like a normal person.

It's like a big old layered burrito of denial on all fronts, right?

Because on the surface, we have a guy who was so young, and that seems so hard to get past in itself. We also have the fact that he was prone to injury at points and disappearing for... months at a time. He had been released and came back, what, a year later? In the meantime there were always a billion headlines with his name, speculating the worst, and it never had any accuracy or mattered. We were always *looking forward* to him returning and he always inevitably did because he had half his career ahead of him still and it always seemed like the best was to come.

And we have all these stories of what a beautiful person he was, a side we roughly knew of but never got to really experience ourselves as an audience.

But the person we saw was, as you said, this unkillable character. Literally unkillable. He told us from day one he could never die and would persist 5000 years from now when *we* were all gone. Because he was this personification of all the darkest bits of humanity and American society come to force us to face our sins. We watched him, silly as it was, get burned alive and come back a shambling heap of melting flesh and be completely restored. He was forever, he was a god, you could always find him and you could never, ever kill it.

And like, as fans, we kindle that kid in us that wants to believe in superheros and villains and we grow over the years with them. We go to events, and we sing his songs, and we thrust ourselves into that role ourselves of characters in a way. Like we were always *his*. Even if you didn't love him, you played into that for his entrance at the very least because it was such an undeniable experience. He talked and you, and every babyface, listened - whether you wanted to or not.

I'll never forget that one match on Raw, still early on, when the whole crowd was first singing "He's got the whole world in his hands" and just swaying, and then turning around and chanting "Bray is gonna kill you." Like, I remember Big E was in that match, and I'm pretty sure he was on the receiving end of that chant. He was over. He was beloved. And the whole crowd was singing hymns and calling for his demise for this literal cult leader that would speak in tongues and Exorcist walk across the ring, holding his heart and smiling with some masked sinister joy at it.

It's really really hard to reconcile he's not actually some biblical force of nature looming over everything and everyone even though we know better. And like, that fan in me that's that eternal kid in a way, is just stomping my feet screaming "but he CAN'T die!"

The end of Smackdown did, and still is, really fucking me up because I kept waiting for the lantern to go out. And like, I couldn't decide if I wanted that. Because on one hand, there's a symbolism there, and a kind of sad beauty, in the light going out. He was with us, and he's gone now, and he can rest (ahahaha I'm going to start crying again). The light fades. But ultimately I'm so glad it didn't go out because A.) I don't think I could've fucking handled it and was already bawling, and B.) It shouldn't go out. Or fade. His spirit of everything he brought to that world should stay with us and with every single performer who goes out there every night and throws their hearts into playing these characters.

And like... maybe, even though it's so hard now, maybe eventually there's comfort to be found in the idea that even though the vessel is gone - *He* will, somehow, always be there haunting us. Because "I have a thousand faces and a million names." We might not see him, but we can choose to believe every time a hero is forced to face their fears that he's there behind it - silently whispering into our ears, willing us on to indulge in every second of it.

[ryansjane]

Why do you think cooking crush kinda flopped? OG are still pretty popular no? Or is it that the show is kinda basic, like something we’ve seen before? I also don’t remember seeing too much promotion but maybe I just missed it.

Also did u see off and gun saying they want to be doing what they’re doing now 10 years from now? I think that’s a good indicator that a “break up” isn’t on the way :)

I'm actually thinking of making a video on the topic on my channel lol, but to summarize I think there's so many elements:

1) cooking crush is a more basic show, and those tend to gather success only if they have a new ship attached to them that gathered attention (ex: 2gether, msp, etc.) also I think the trailers & promos did a bad job hooking people onto it.

2) the bl genre is now saturated. if cooking crush was released in 2019 or 2020 it would've been huge simply for having offgun's name attached to it. but now there's 100+ bl shows released every year, and statistically only like 5-10% will be a huge success.

3) offgun were never a "viral" ship. off mentioned it himself in an interview, and it's definitely what has kept them together for 8+ years, but it also means they've never had the kind of hype attached to them brightwin, fourthgemini or even kristsingto have had.

4) offgun are the oldest thai bl ship still together, so in this highly saturated bl market where there's a new ship popping up quite literally every week, they're likely seen as old & has-been by many. bc of their age they're also unlikely to touch new younger audiences of bl, which are the most outspoken & passionate types of fans. 14 years old are more likely to stan the 18/19 years old at gmmtv instead of the 30+ grown ass men for sure. also, even if that seems sad & mean to say, in this current bl economy, I feel like fans get tired of seeing the same faces for so long, which is why now the lasting of ships is shorter & shorter and just used to launch a solo career.

5) the marketing. imo the biggest issue is the show in itself that doesn't meet the demands of the bl fandom at the moment (either innovative or at least hypersexual shows, apart for the new ships having basic shows exception that I talked about (and that works only at gmmtv too)), but the marketing could've definitely helped. imo they should've added a lot more fanservice in the trailer to hook the fetishizing fans in if they wanted more viewers. the social media marketing was also quite poor but not the actual worst.

however, even though cooking crush "flopped" in terms of being a gmmtv show & an offgun show, imo it was successful in its own way. it still trended number 1 on X every week if that still means anything, and it was also a very good show. like... not every show can be life-changing, in fact romcoms very rarely are. the show did what it set out to do & was well executed until the end, which for me is a success in itself. so flop? maybe not. success? maybe not either lol.

and yes, off has been talking about babiis sticking with him for 30 more years back in 2019, so we still have a good few decades ahead :) what I do really want to see from offgun is a new innovative show from them bc atp this is the only thing that will be a success (and their age & experience will still likely be a baggage in our hyperconsumerist bl market). I'm even less confident that the trainee will even get as much attention as cooking crush did, so what I want to see is a show where offgun are dads navigating being queer parents, or as I said before a dark psychological thriller. not only could they pull it off, but they would absolutely BODY a more heavy show with more innovative aspects. bc atm cooking crush & the trainee are only catering to their fanbase, gmmtv's & the rare ones who enjoy more basic romcoms. they need something so uncommon & original it will rally the bl fandom behind them, bc sadly atp their name alone will not do it. however, I'm not confident in gmmtv at all, especially since they have 15 other ships they gotta give shows to. the dad show, though? if it ever happens, it NEEDS to be offgun 100000%!!!

xxx

[palomahasenteredthechat]

https://www.tumblr.com/palomahasenteredthechat/760482186108485632/my-goodness-do-fans-really-think-pr-is-tracking

PR nonny here, once again. There seems to be a misconception about PR. Our job is to help our clients maintain/cultivate a positive public image and part of that comes from public perception and how they interact with the audience. No, it’s not that we follow blogs. We do keep tabs on our clients’ hashtags, mentions, etc in every social media platform(yes, that includes Tumblr). So yes, we do keep an eye on everything because without a fan base, our clients would basically be no more.

Every person out there working in PR knows the more audience you capture in a positive way, the more your client’s career flourishes(Keanu Reeves is the perfect example of this). But looking to expand your client’s fan base by rebranding is always a risky move and even riskier when someone is just starting to make a name for themselves in Hollywood. Especially if you decide to associate with someone who is known to be a PR nightmare for many agencies out there.

In all my years of experience, no fandom is perfect. I can tell you that. And one of the worst mistakes someone in PR can do is underestimate the audience. So all in all, whether it be for good or for worse, we do our research and monitor all fan opinions. And no, I do not work for JQ or DC(thank God) or ST but I do know for a fact that their teams do have to keep tabs on every fan opinion out there. Just needed to clear that up.

Thank you PR Nonny, that clarification is most appreciated.

In the beginning, it was crazypants to think anyone would pay attention to Tumblr. It was just a little corner of the internet that gleefully shared pics, edits, GIFs and some of the hottest fanfics ever created around Eddie.

When things evolved in 2023, and his dating life came into the conversation, a whole bunch of people migrated over from TikTok and Twitter. That, combined with Twitter turning into X, made Tumblr much more of a gossip destination than it had been in 2022. If you were tasked with social listening for him you would have had to factor Tumblr into it by then. We're not X, but we're closer than we used to be.

[woodswolf]

Me before attempting to write Olimar again, one year ago: "Okay, this'll be interesting. Writing a character who isn't severely fucked up on two or five levels (but will be by the time I'm done with him). This will be nice a little experiment for myself."

Me now, having catapulted down the character study rabbit hole as I tend to: "Oh dear god, wait a minute: this guy is as deeply fucked up on the level of whom I usually write for! And I don't think that was my fault for once! I've been deceived! What the fuck?!"

(TL;DR: Your tags and ramblings made me Think, thank you. I'm certain you are having a blast tearing him to shreds in some terrible way I've yet to think of myself lol.)

(RE: all of this shit probably)

i have only really truly known this guy for a bit over a year and every little bit ive learned about him has only pushed me ever deeper into this endless well of fascination with whatever the fuck is wrong with him. this guy is a pathological liar as a method of self-soothing. who DOES that. how the fuck did he arrive in this scenario.

really when you get down to it olimar is like, perhaps one of the most depressed characters of all time, it's just that he's carefully crafted a presentation of symptoms that very cleverly hides this from both the audience and himself. this guy is literally miserable. he viscerally hates his boss and is frustrated with his coworkers where they're even relevant. he has somewhere in the range of mixed feelings on his job but generally wishes that it allowed him more time with his family. his family, which has so many undeniable problems it's difficult to even list them. where to start: his kids? his wife? his parents? every happy memory he has involves his family and most of those memories are brief glimpses at Connection that otherwise seems so absent from the rest of his life. he's a middle-aged man with a house and a yard and a wife and two-kids-and-a-dog and probably a white picket fence for good measure. he's ticking all the boxes that he was raised* to think were a one-way ticket to happiness. so why is he still so lonely? why isn't he happy? what is this general malaise that's hanging over his entire life? what's wrong with him?

(*whether or not he was actually raised on a variant of the american dream is a really interesting question but honestly not relevant here. there's a lot of interesting evidence in his logs supporting something more nuanced, but again. irrelevant)

and olimar's answer is that Actually! there's Nothing wrong! he's perfectly fine and perfectly happy and perfectly satisfied with everything in his life. nothing is wrong and he's perfectly happy and even if he weren't (which he is!!!!) he still has so many things that would make up for it. he has so many good memories that are just his that he can hold on to as hard as he possibly can for as long as he needs to until he feels better. he can write them down and read them back as a reminder until it sticks in his brain that He Is Happy. There Is Nothing Wrong. He Is Happy And There Is Nothing Wrong. because he did everything right, didn't he!! he made his choices and for the all the love of everything he holds dear he is going to stick by them. because he needs to. because if he doesn't, where would he even be?

and then this guy has the worst "vacation" of his entire life (DEFINITELY another blatant self-soothing lie btw, you CANNOT convince me that this guy would spend any more time away from his family than he absolutely has to what with his career) and the cracks actually kind of start to show. because he is very quickly launched into the worst series of circumstances he's ever experienced. and through it all he's just!! completely fucking Normal about it!! utterly fucking accepting of any outcome that happens to him because he doesn't feel like he really has any control. like he ever had any control. he should have fucking died. even before the thirty days are up he's just passively accepting of whatever happens. there are tons and tons of treasure descriptions or other entries where he expresses very explicit passive suicidality through things that could be jokes or offhand comments but really don't read like that. pikmin 1's entry for day 29 reads more like a reminder that he should at least try to not let himself die than an earnest attempt to actually do so.

and it's like, if he does survive pikmin 1, what does he even win? ever-increasing stakes at his job and ever-fewer ways to pretend that everything's fine. an ever-brighter flashing neon sign reading QUIT YOUR FUCKING JOB that he has to try increasingly hard to ignore. the job that keeps sending him back to the planet that almost killed him. the job that keeps sending him back to the planet where he barely survived by only his wits and the skin of his teeth. the job that keeps sending him back to the planet where he will die, because no one was supposed to save olimar.

and through it all you can see! you can SEE the way he gets increasingly stressed out as things go along. but he's still just going along trying his damnedest to pretend that everything is fine and he is happy and he doesn't need any help, that he shouldn't be trying to make an exit as quickly as he can and to maybe ask his wife to pick up a job so they can be a dual-income household now that their kids are a bit older. he doesn't need to be looking for anything better because he has the best he's going to get right here, and isn't that wonderful? shouldn't that make him happy?

and it's like, the way things are going he's never going to get there, and on some level he knows that. but olimar's whole fucking deal is that if he can't solve something he's going to throw himself at the problem over and over until either it gets solved or his skull splits open, a pattern that is only reenforced by the events of pikmin 1 and 2 and 3. so he knows that he's never going to be happy, but he's going to try this impossible task of being happy over and over until he either fakes it till he makes it or something kills him. so far it hasn't worked out for him, but maybe the NEXT time he blows up at somebody for no reason because he just can't take the stress of it all anymore!

as it turns out i have no idea how to end this, so on a tangentially related note: olimar is not a biologist by any standard and i will die on this hill. ALL of his piklopedia entries are creative writing exercises and i can ALMOST prove this. but that's a whole other post honestly. just kind of adds to the whole thing about how much olimar lies to the reader and himself.

[talenlee]

The 2024 Pitch

Hi. I’m Talen Lee. It’s 2024. Let me tell you what you’ll see here. But first I need to talk to you about podcasts.

I listen to a lot of podcasts? Well, that’s not true. I listen to a small number of podcasts, but I listen to a lot of them. In 2023 I listened to 45 days of one podcast, and that podcast has absolutely no advertising and sponsorship, just supported by patrons on Patreon. That archive empty, I went to listen to another podcast, which does have ads, which means that in listening to this one podcast daily, I have listened to a lot of adverts for other podcasts. Podcast advertising is a special kind of hell where you get a 30 second audio spot with some music in which someone

Look yeah you clicked on the right link I’m doing something here, shut up

In which someone who you might recognise, but usually just some mediocre person with a media career access, tells you that hey, they’re making a podcast, and you should check it out because hahaaah, it’s a podcast! They’re there to talk about the subject, another subject, and another subject and whatever strikes their fancy.

I hate this.

I haaaate this.

I hate this because it betrays this ambiguity of purpose, and feels like the person in question isn’t really interested in what they’re talking about. I’m doing a podcast or whatever, y’know, come up with some reason to engage with this if my name recognition or my tone of voice doesn’t specifically do it on its own. It’s the worst kind of basic advertising that isn’t trying to connect a person with something they might want, it’s instead throwing the seeds into the wild with all the enthusiasm of a Nigerian Prince spam scam email, casting fistfuls of rotten seeds into the air in the hopes that they will land and arrive in a listener’s ear and at that perfect moment tell them: Ah, products exist.

It’s even more dire because in many cases these are podcasts that are essentially working as a kind of marketing product, a literal form of ‘content’ that an attract ‘an audience’ of ‘a demographic’ which means they can ‘monetise’ that content by sticking ads between the ‘content.’ True Crime podcasts are dire as a whole genre but that is at least a genre with a problem and that problem can be examined in terms of what the genre is doing and what it’s affecting.

This? This is just ‘I make content, and that content is a land of contrasts.’

Okay.

Then.

With that in mind.

Hi, I’m Talen Lee. I’m a game maker, games studies academic, game critic, and media studies graduate with an honours degree working on a PhD in board game making. I’m bisexual, I’m cis, I grew up in a cult. I think that people make games as cultural artifacts, I think there are more interesting ways to talk about games than as just commercial products, and I think that academic concepts are not beyond you, a casual or common audience who are tangentially interested in them. I have had students who have scraped through classes with minimal effort managing to wrap their heads around ideas like paratext agonic play,  you can get there too, I’m confident.

Every day, there’s a new article posted on Press Dot EXE. What you’re going to find here fits broadly into these categories:

Games, from my perspective as someone who makes and loves games

Media, from my perspective as someone qualified in Media Studies

My experiences growing up with Fundamentalism

Like, that’s kind of it. Games, media and fundamentalism, that’s all I do. That takes a lot of different forms, of course.

I don’t like repeating on a topic too much. That means there are things I do with a mindset of ‘once a month’ – I try not to make a single subject too common, too often. To hit that goal, I try to limit myself to once-a-month articles about:

My original characters

My ‘original’ world for tabletop RPGs, Cobrin’Seil

Worldbuilding advice and guidance in general without a specific example

The franchises Transformers, Pokemon, and Magic The Gathering

I do write about D&D a fair bit, the two editions I know well, which are 3rd edition and 4th edition (which is the best edition). They get a slot each each month, and so does the special series How To Be, which describes a process for trying to make a particular character from pop culture media in the game system of 4th Edition D&D. I started this because I thought the complaints about 4e D&D being ‘inflexible’ or ‘like an MMORPG’ for character building didn’t make any sense to me, and then decided to show that you can translate a lot of different kinds of characters to that format.

Every week, I start the Monday with a piece on a media work, which I call Story Pile, and then the Friday, I publish an article on a game, which I call Game Pile. Every two weeks, the Game Pile article will be a video, and published on Youtube, and here!

Every even month, I use a theme to unite the content on the blog. That means if you like a particular type of content, it’s easy to look for in the archives. The themes and their corresponding months are:

February is Smooch Month, where I talk about romantic media

April is Talen Month, where I talk about things that matter to me personally

June is Pride Month, which is about queer media

August is Tricks Month, where I talk about magical tricks and illusions

October is Dread Month, where I look into horror and darker topics

December is Decemberween, a celebration of cool things I’ve seen through the year

That’s the goals for the year, with an aim for every article clocking in at one thousand words. I also aim to be better and more consistent about alt text this year – this is an example of a bad habit I’ve let fester for a long time, like not using categories and tags, and I intend to address it going forward.  

That’s what you get here. You get media analysis. You get games. You get an ex-cultist thinking about things and a deliberate attempt to keep things from getting too repetitive and boring.

Where all good podcasts are sold.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[snowgerl]

I had about the most terrifying experience of my sledding career yesterday. This post is mostly just a vent for me about what happened because I can’t seem to stop thinking about it. I’m very sore today and still a bit emotional. No broken bones or anything major, thank god. I am so glad to be back to normal life and safe, but I am shook.

The situation involved a group of three of us dropping down into a drainage that I had been into before. Spring riding conditions so no water holes open, fairly hard packed and I knew my way in and out. We got to the bottom of the first section and there’s a “decision point” where you can drop further into the drainage (it gets quite a bit steeper) or you can turn back up. I turned out and let the other two continue down. They seen me go back out and I rode back up to the top. (Mistake #1) riding alone.

Then I got over confident and decided to drop back in and attempt to catch up to them. At this point I definitely should have radio’d down to let them know where I was headed. (Mistake #2) Not communicating. I had only ever been down the lower section one other time and it didn’t end well, so it was a very poor choice. I got in there and mistook the steep pull up the side at the first drop to be the way back out. I later found out that the pull I was thinking of was actually further down. So it was completely unnecessary for me to attempt this super steep, deep and high consequence line. But I did. And I snagged a tree with my ski tip just as I started to trench and thought it might hold my sled there.

I bailed off the back. Leaving the sled to hang above me. (Mistake #3) stay on the high side. It started to slide back down towards me and then I started running to try to get out of the way. I thought the worst case it would roll over me. That was not the worst case. It rolled over me and pinned me.

So now no one knows where I am. I have use of only one hand, and my other hand and legs and entire body is now stuck underneath a 500lb machine. My breathing is shallow from the weight on my lungs. But I am breathing. So I focus on that. I try to calm myself. I then try to dig with my free hand, to no avail. I cannot move any other part of my body. So I am forced to wait. (Mistake #4) no access to my radio. If I had a mic set up on my pack and my radio anywhere near me (it was in my tunnel bag) I could easily have called for help.

So I waited. And prayed my lungs would hold out. And as I settled my breathing and gathered my thoughts I knew my husband would find me. He always comes back for me. He always finds me. I would just have to wait. So after about 10 minutes (that felt like two hours) I heard another snowmobile. Then nothing. So I started yelling for help. Waited another couple of minutes and then I heard the sleds fire up again and start towards me. Then I was found and they lifted it off of me.

So we will be buying new radios. I will be significantly more vocal on said radios about my location and decision making. I will proactively assess my line choices based on whether I have an audience or not. I will be more conscious of staying with the group in more intermediate terrain. I will remember this and I will learn from it. It was stupid, and it was scary, and I need some time to process.

[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

SPIRITBOX ON BROADENING METAL, NEW MUSIC, HARSH FINANCIAL REALITY OF BEING A BAND

Courtney LaPlante: "I've been gambling my whole life in hopes this pays off"

Courtney Laplante's nightmare would be screaming one of Spiritbox's alt-metal songs in front of judge Simon Cowell and the crowd of normies at America's Got Talent. And yet last summer, Cowell, along with millions of viewers across America, was dramatically introduced to the intense sounds of Spiritbox — as LaPlante tuned in and cheered.

So how — in the infancy of their career, and after only one album — did this Canadian band from a small island in Victoria, British Columbia, manage to enter the small pantheon of metal acts who have had their mainstream crossover moment? And why was LaPlante so happy about it? It all began with a young girl's scream.

It was a Saturday in June 2022, the day America's Got Talent was due to air, and the day the world would witness the young screamer in question — 10-year-old Harper Jerret from Somerset, England — assault Cowell and the judges with her performance of Spiritbox's breakout hit "Holy Roller."

Everything appeared to align, like it was fated. LaPlante had previously befriended Jerret after discovering her on Instagram, and — on the exact night of the broadcast — Jerret found herself joining Spiritbox at their sold-out show in London to perform the very same banger from her AGT audition. As Jerret walked onstage, LaPlante imagined herself at that age: a timid child, years from realizing her identity as an artist, almost a decade out from finding her scream. "At her age I was just like, 'I love horses so much, they're so sick' and 'I wish Space Jam was real'," says the singer in her typically self-deprecating manner. (LaPlante is also prone to laughing at herself, which she does frequently, and infectiously, throughout our Zoom call.) "But I think she's a kid who's a bit ahead of the other kids, emotionally, because she's able to ask herself: Who am I? I am an artist."

LaPlante was immediately protective of that nascent determination. "Don't go near the front of the stage," she recalls telling Jerret, desperate to keep her safe — to make sure she wouldn't stray, to make sure she wouldn't fall. The duet came off without a hitch, but LaPlante was still a little apprehensive that night. She knew that within hours Jerret's America's Got Talent audition would air — to an audience that she suspected numbered in the metal-hating millions. LaPlante, quite sensibly, didn't trust Simon Cowell. She didn't trust the normies. She was expecting the worst.

Alongside her husband and bandmate Mike Stringer, LaPlante headed to her hotel room. They braced themselves for the audition and were pre-pared to talk shit about the judges. "We were ready to defend … like, 'Fuck you, Simon Cowell!'" she says. "Because we only have our own experience with normal culture and how they interact with what we do." Instead, as Jerret's performance unfolded, LaPlante watched with amazement as the judges' initial, terrified awe relaxed into total admiration.

"Holy roller sits in the garden we fled/Blood into wine, take my body instead," Jerret enunciated like a tiny Shakespearean thespian, before launching into a LaPlante-worthy scream that was all animal, that obliterated all boundaries of primetime decorum. A standing ovation. A thumbs up from Simon Cowell. Three yeses. LaPlante cheered for Jerret — and then sat up and took note. This is what happens when you don't take away a little girl's freedom to scream. This is what happens when you imagine the world as a stage from which to shout unashamed.

"It was amazing to see that girls can make this kind of music," Jerret recently told Revolver of first discovering LaPlante's performance on "Holy Roller," which her stepfather had introduced her to around the time Spiritbox released their 2021 full-length debut, Eternal Blue. "I was really inspired by Courtney to start screaming and making my own music." The song was Jerret's introduction to metal, her gateway into the genre. "Holy Roller" has now become, for an increasing number of kids across the world, their gateway, too.

It was a surreal moment that garlanded one of the most rapid ascensions in recent metal history. Watchful eyes have been placed on Spiritbox ever since their inception in 2017. But it wasn't until July 2020 — when they released "Holy Roller," the first single from Eternal Blue — that they turned from a niche one-to-watch act to one of metal's most exciting new prospects. They soon secured a No. 1 spot on SiriusXM's Liquid Metal radio station as well as a significant, devoted fanbase — and for good reasons. Spiritbox were expanding the genre in both sound and scope, incorporating djent blasts and industrial breakbeats into hypnagogic dreamscapes while broadening metal's emotional range beyond brazen anguish and rage.

On this point, LaPlante is especially passionate. "I feel like we're one of the only remaining genres that has to be so binary in what the music is about and how the music makes you feel," she says. "Other music has a wide scope: songs about partying, songs about heartbreak, songs about being angry, songs about feeling depressed, songs about feeling happy. [Metal] is a broad genre, but a lot of it feels like it's on autopilot."

If the success of "Holy Roller" wasn't enough of a tell, by the time Eternal Blue dropped in September 2021 it was crystal clear: Spiritbox were on the rise — and steering their own plane. The record debuted at No. 13 on the Billboard 200, marking that year's highest-charting release for the genre at that point. Incessant, relentless touring followed, as they supported many of hard rock's legacy acts and gained swathes of new fans from devotees of Ghost, Underoath, Bring Me the Horizon, even Limp Bizkit. Every metric and data point suggest it: Spiritbox are big. Their influence has both pushed the genre forward and opened it up to a new generation. All at once, everything has changed — and yet everything still remains the same. This is Spiritbox's strange new reality.

When LaPlante logs into our video call, the singer is once again sitting in front of the exact same setup from which I interviewed her for a Revolver "Uprising" profile just over two years ago. A weak-tea-colored wall is behind her, precariously nailed to which is a black-and-purple Spiritbox poster that she and Stringer designed together over five years ago. But some things are different: A few empty moving boxes can be seen in the background — as soon, the band will be splitting their time between Victoria and Los Angeles. It's purely a business decision; the cost of an apartment is cheaper than all the hotel stays they've splurged on while travelling down to California to record. "When I go away from my island, go to L.A., Michael and I get very shocked," she says. "It's absolutely bizarre for us. I think being here has kind of protected us, sheltered us. It's a literal and figurative island for us."

Again: everything is changing and yet everything remains the same. LaPlante and Stringer still work the same data-entry job they were at before Spiritbox took off. Well, sort of. "Work" is putting it generously. Although they are still, technically, employees of the company, LaPlante's forgotten her log-in password, which means she can't make a formal resignation even if she wanted to — and neither of them have worked a shift there in over two years. "It's kind of sick and twisted that I haven't quit. I think it's a weird motivating thing," says LaPlante. "I keep it because I wanna remind myself that I might very easily have to go back to doing something I don't like, and that it's a huge privilege I get to do something I do like."

LaPlante also reveals that she continues to feel further and further away from the person she was before she was "Courtney LaPlante," leader of Spiritbox and full-time professional musician. This, in her mind, is a dangerous state to be in. She is financially secure for the first time in her adult life, but she considers that security a misnomer. She constantly must remind herself of the professional musician's precarious state. "To other artists who have been around longer: Does that secure feeling ever come to you, or does it feel like this forever?" she wonders. "Because I still feel much closer to my office job than to, like, being in Slipknot."

LaPlante speaks at length about the financial reality of being in a band, a reality that has been romanticized, and that she wishes to demystify. She's long been curious about the ways in which audiences fetishize artists and view them as a pure commodity and not as workers like the rest of us. She considers it one of metal's last remaining taboos.

"I'm 33 and I've been gambling my whole life in hopes that this pays off," says the singer, who prior to forming Spiritbox was, along with Stringer, a member of metalcore outfit Iwrestledabearonce. "But I know the reality ... If people knew how non-lucrative this world is and how little money most bands make, they'd probably be more likely to buy an extra shirt. One time I saw a Reddit thread saying, 'Oh my god these people have jobs?! … They have 700,000 monthly listeners.' And I was like, that's not paying anyone's bills."

For the sake of her fans, her dreams, her bank account — LaPlante is focused on making sure that Spiritbox are continually scaling up, thinking bigger. She owes it to herself. For the entirety of her adult life, up until now, LaPlante has been looked at as though she's been in a perpetual state of delusion. "For over 10 years, I've been pursuing this crazy dream," she says. "And whether people supported it or not, they didn't really understand — because it's such a strange thing to want to do. Like, 'Why are you spending all your money recording songs that no one wants to hear?' It's hard to explain to people because it is extremely irrational. When you say it out loud, you're like, Yeah, why am I doing this? Am I insane?"

Turns out the dream wasn't so crazy after all. Courtney LaPlante, certified not insane. The sold-out shows for Spiritbox's upcoming headlining tour, alone, prove that. For the first half of this year — and for the first time ever — Spiritbox won't be playing within the parameters of another band. This is their live show, their production. "We really wanna ramp it up, invest in it, blow everyone's minds. I want everyone to walk away saying, 'I wanna see that band again — and in a bigger place.' That's my dream. Now I'm like, OK, how am I gonna impress these people?"

Performing is LaPlante's stimulant, though it's not without its occasional comedowns. Having played only a little over a hundred shows, she's yet to get into her groove. Every night is a test. "I still have a lot to learn about performing. The whole time I'm thinking, How's Michael doing? Is his guitar sounding good? OK, that light worked. This part worked," she says. "It's weird; it's like that combined with an out-of-body experience. Meanwhile, I'm singing about being depressed. Most of my songs are about me having dark feelings and my struggle with depression and just feeling all the strong feelings I've had throughout my life. It's both extremely emotionally therapeutic and also literally performative at the same time."

If 2022 whipped them into becoming a good band, 2023 will be the year that ensures Spiritbox's enduring greatness. "I'm really excited, but it is gonna be really hard," says LaPlante. "We love to sabotage ourselves. So we're like, Hey, let's throw in writing new music, too — and hopefully we'll get some new music out in the first half of the year. After that we're gonna hibernate and hopefully write an album. That's the goal. Crazy first half of the year, pretty chill second half."

Spiritbox began writing new material in November of last year. "Now we have to figure out when do we show you the songs? Do we show you in March? Do we show you in September? Or do we wait until 2024? I don't know." Sooner sounds more likely than later. LaPlante hates sitting on new music. "We wrote this music because we really wanna share it with you," she says. "It made us feel a certain way and we wanna see if it makes you feel a certain way, too."

Still, the songs keep piling up. LaPlante doesn't reveal much about the new music, not out of preciousness, but simply because she's yet to find the right words to describe it. She mentions repeated phrases and themes throughout the songs: mental prisons, body horror, visual illusions, disillusionment — all material she believes she could fit into a concept album or EP. "To me, all these songs are one big song lyrically and thematically," she says. "If everything aligns and we feel really strongly that everything hits exactly how we want — the art and the music and the whole thing around it — we'll want to put this out as soon as possible. If we do our job right, then we will."

Carrying that young girl's yell of fearlessness with her, LaPlante is pushing both herself and an entire genre forward.

[crazy56u]

Currently batting two for two in the “Have to watch the new episode after the fact due to work” category, yay for me!

We open in on a pregnant woman in a parking lot.

Ben legitimately almost had a panic attack when face with having to deliver a baby.

The quickest, cleanest baby delivery.

Now if only the rest of the Leap was this easy.

And Addison decided to just rip the bandaid off and say the episode’s title.

If only Ben leap into the grunge scene instead of the ER scene…

I don’t know how to feel about the asshole she’s talking to being a Stephen…

Dr. Turk. …so, basically, this is Scrubs.

“Why are you here past your shift?” “I delivered a baby! :D” “Yeah, get off the high horse, pal…”

“You can’t save everyone.” That moment they telegraph the moral three minutes in.

And as Ben learns he has to save multiple lives, the sound department decides to crank the knockoff Creed!

Nurse Carolina, not to be confused with Nurse Nebraska.

Thank god for that white coat, otherwise Ben would be looking shifty right now.

Annnnnd they ain’t in the system yet, so in about 10… 9… 8…

“Code trauma.” Ding!

What if those two ambulances did a head-on collision just then?

Okay, so question: Why didn’t they have Ben leap in to stop the train crash?

“If they can walk, they can wait. If they are currently standing, fuck ‘em!”

Ben was about to black out then and there.

“Ziggy says there’s a 100% chance all three were on that train!” Tell Ziggy “No shit.” for me.

Okay, not for nothing, but if they said she had shrapnel in her fucking heart, I don’t have high hopes for her…

Watch as Nurse Carolina decides to brush off the fact that the resident, from her perspective, predicted three of the train victims prior to them arriving.

…is Dr. Harper’s first name “Stephen”, by chance?

In the 90s, hospitals were just playgrounds for mad science experiments, I guess…

Ah, so this hospital sucks, glad to know!

Addison, so what if they “didn’t know” Respiratrex was dangerous. People didn’t know Thalidomide was dangerous in the 50s, and look what happened there!

50/50 odds on her survival, glad to know God’s about to flip a coin in this bitch.

Ben’s logic: “Fuck it, I’m a better doctor than Harper, and I’m a time traveler, fuck his paper!”

“If Dr. Harper finds out you changed his script, he’ll Nike your career!” “Dr. Turk, you won’t understand this saying for a couple decades, but ‘YOLO’.”

[Okay, legit, Peacock crashed after I did that.]

…I think she forgot the actual line, and just ad-libbed that “Bold”…

Meanwhile, in 2023, everything is somehow worse!

I still stick to my theory that they locked Janis in a broom closet last week, her being in the interrogation room changes nothing.

I love how Magic is just playing the Sam card right out of the gate, he is done with her shit.

Okay, I half expected Janis to immediately make a break for it once the cuffs came off.

“I wanna talk to Ben, and I don’t care if he’s currently doing hospital resident train crash victim shit.”

“Hey, you, I have a working memory, did you predict there was a train crash?”

It is in my strongest belief that the second Carolina learns of the third victim, she is going to punch Ben in the arm.

Okay, cool, so the episode’s depressing depressing, got it.

Being told you have a concussion is the shittiest way to learn you have a tumor, goddamn…

And Eli just wants to die, okay, what a fun episode to enjoy immediately after a long night of work, yay me…

Oh! Goody! He’s Sandra’s dad!

It feels weird having barely missed the pager era…

“Okay, look, I’ll keep your tumor a secret, you fucking stay put.”

[I just paused. Why are they not showing the right half of Louis’s head?]

[OH FUCK]

“Hey, audience? Tell me? Do I got something on my face?”

Ben must engage in casual chit chat, or Louis will fucking die.

Ben, this is the worst time to forget you are supposed to be a woman…

Okay, cool, one out of three so far…

And so Janis and Jenn get crunk.

About fucking time we remember the cowboy existed…

Again, why didn’t we have Ben try and stop the crash?

Why does it look like Ben is trying to invent Wikipedia?

“Got a patient with a brain tumor?�� “Yep, and it ain’t your dad, so don’t worry a thing about it.”

“Man, I sure do have a patient with a break tumor, so, hey, on an unrelated note, wanna talk about your dad?”

So, in other words, Eli is the Saul Goodman of Quantum Leap.

MORAL OF THE STORY: If you suck at being a dad, you will create doctors.

Okay, in another life time, Ben is the guy who does the quick side effect reading during medicine commercials.

“Look, I know this drug has bad side effects, but the FDA helped me pay off my car, so I say you’re wrong.”

“Look, I know I can’t prove how I know she has an undiagnosed medical condition, but fuck off.”

I love how Dr. Harper thinks he’s the hero in this story.

Okay, at this point, I hope Dr. Harper slips on a banana peel and falls on his ass.

And there’s the rub: In order to stop the use of a shit drug, a daughter must make amends with her dying father.

“Look, I know I said I’d stay, but fuck it, I’m out.” “Eli, if you leave, the FDA will win!”

I really want to see the “Better Call Saul”-style spin off involving Eli…

“Maybe this cancer is the way the universe wants my story to end.” “Look, I already changed one script today, don’t you worry…”

[Okay, I was joking earlier, Ben legitimately practically told Eli “if you leave, the FDA will win”…]

…and now we have a character being declared brain dead… … …okay, I know that coincidences exist, and I am reading too much into this, but how in the fuck is this the second Quantum Leap story this month I have experienced involving this shit?

Man, Ben, this week just sucks for you…

BOY DO I LOVE HOW LIGHT HEARTED THIS EPISODE IS BEING RIGHT NOW, BOY OH BOY

“Hey, good news, the depressing scene is over!”

Episode, why are you insistent in turning the screws on Ben right now?

Okay, it’s defibrillating time.

Why am I now hearing “How To Save A Life” in the back of my head?

And speaking of depressions going back to baseline!

“Hey, are you psychic, tell me now!” “So, about your dad’s tumor-”

“So, what do you think?” “Man, Jenn, I dunno, this episode’s fucking depressing…” “Magic, I was talking about Janis.”

Is the endgame of Janis’s plot arc just hiring her onto Quantum Leap?

Wait, was Ian even in the episode yet?

Also, calling it now, the dead wife’s gonna be the heart donor.

“FUCK these papers!”

CALLED IT

I choose to believe that this is Ben himself admitting he should’ve been allowed to prevent the train crash.

Now watch as Dr. Harper tries to fuck up the heart transplant…

CALLED IT.

Is Ben about to fist fight Dr. Harper, please god say he is…

“Look, I’m still processing my dad has a tumor-” “TOO BAD, DR. HARPER IS ABOUT TO KILL KIMBERLY”

“FUCK THESE CROWDED HALLWAYS!”

WHAT THE FUCK, BEN?! “Look, if you don’t hear us out about the murder drug, THE IV BAG GETS IT!”

Just fucking saying, Sam Beckett never fucking held a person’s life hostage in order to save the day, so that’s how you know Ben has bigger stones.

Ben got so pissed off with the sexism, he forgot the plot.

“Look, if she had that stupid disease, we’d know by now!” “(practically slaps him in the face with the chart) Bet.”

“…okay, fine, fuck it, use the other drug, I give. Now, just let the IV Bag go.”

Honestly, Ben should’ve been allowed to keep the scalpel, he earned it.

What if Eli already left?

I love how Ben didn’t leap yet, so now he’s chilling in an ambulance.

“What if all of this was for nothing, and I let you down?” Ben, the show got renewed, you’re fine.

Also, calling it now, the situation with Addison is revealed in the season finale.

“Stop being afraid.” “Oh, okay. (leaps)”

“Okay, look, I just got done with helping Ben stop the FDA, so this better be good.”

“Look, I ain’t happy with this situation either, Addison, but that doesn’t mean I have to put up with this shit.”

“Tell Ben to shut up, or the Secret Leapers will get us all. Yes, I know this sounds like conspiracy theory bullshit, but I am being legit.”

And now Ben is in the elevator from Speed, I already saw the promo, I know the punchline.

…is Ben in fucking Chernobyl?

So, just to reiterate: Ben defeated the FDA by holding an IV bag hostage, and Janis is a borderline conspiracy theorist.

It is a legitimate crime we have to wait three weeks for the next episode…

[qnewsau]

Meet Townsville drag king Heywood Jablowme

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/meet-townsville-drag-king-heywood-jablowme/

Meet Townsville drag king Heywood Jablowme

We ask local entertainers to spill the tea about themselves, their craft and the local scene. This month it’s Townsville’s drag king Heywood Jablowme.  

Heywood chats to us about their career, life in Townsville and how their partner proposed to them.

I would describe Heywood Jablome as….

A chunky yet funky guy who loves to dance. With my glitter beard and smooth moves, I’ll catch your attention, then I’ll catch your heart with a wink and a smile. Always ready for a dance and a good time, I’m just here to entertain myself and I know you will be too. Let’s dance!

The first time I did drag was…

A very long time ago (about 20 or so years ago) for a drag king competition for first-timers. I didn’t win, but I had so much fun and got such a great crowd response, that I just kept performing.

The Townsville/North Queensland scene is…

A bit like me… small but mighty!

My best skills as a performer are…

Getting the crowd pumped up and making peeps feel things they never knew they could!

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by Heywood Jablowme (@heywood.jablowme.dragking)

Drag kings

Compared to drag queens, drag kings are…

Often overlooked

The biggest myth about drag kings is…

They’re not as good as drag queens. We’re all just here to perform, entertain and have fun! Give drag kings a chance

The most important skill you can have as a drag king is…

Knowing the fine line between being flirty and being sleazy and knowing how to stay on the right side of it. Flirty = cute, sleazy = creepy.

Gender is…

Fluid and a very broad spectrum. Be respectful and refer to people in the way they’ve asked, it’s not going to hurt you, but it will mean the world to them.

Being a parent and a performer is…

Sometimes challenging, but our kids love seeing me in drag.

Performance experiences

The best thing a fan has done for me was…

Propose, ha!

The worst thing someone in the audience has done was...

Try to grab my crotch. That’s a big no-no. Never touch somebody without their consent. Costume does not equal consent.

The best experience I’ve had performing is…

A tough one to choose. At Queer Candy 2023 I did Amen by Todrick Hall, which went off with the crowd, and my partner proposed to me with a poster that said “Heywood JaMarryMe” and I said yes.

Then at this year’s Queer Candy, the one and only Kween Kong called me her husband on stage after watching me perform, so that was pretty incredible too.

A performer who deserves more attention is…

Hugo Grrrl, an amazing NZ drag king and Sydney king Sexy Galexy.

Something people are surprised to learn about me is…

I can be a real homebody at times, gotta recharge those batteries.

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  A post shared by Heywood Jablowme (@heywood.jablowme.dragking)

The future

In 2024 I hope… 

To let Heywood out to play more.

A message I have for the community is…

To be kind to one another. We are a small community, we need to practice what we preach and be truly accepting of all, embrace and support each other. We’re all just queerdos trying to survive in this mad world.

Follow @heywood.jablowme.dragking on Instagram.

More from Townsville:

Pride March through Townsville as city’s new Pride Centre opens

Petra Fidewood: Townsville’s Queen of the North

Townsville Pride hosts queer art exhibition

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[racingtoaredlight]

Saturday Night Recap

Jason Vieaux on the left coming out for an encore, the headliner of the night Lorenzo Micheli on the right...Lorenzo's reaction is how most classical guitarists react when they're around Vieaux.

Rarely have I had the feeling of being the worst guitarist in whatever room. Even in college, whenever I felt like I couldn't keep up, it was more due to experience or practice than being outclassed. Which is why it was such a treat to feel like a little piece of shit on Saturday night.

***

My main guitar teacher invited me to go with him, and my other teacher was there as well. I looked around in the surprisingly packed audience (prob north of 150 people), and saw the entire guitar faculties of the Cleveland Institute of Music, Cleveland State and there were probably facutly from the other surrounding schools too. There were guitar cases from students coming from practice rooms (Saturday night, party night, am I right?).

I can confidently say, with exceptions to the unfortunate spouses and friends dragged along to this, that I was probably the worst guitarist there.

Listen, I'm no slouch, I recorded this earlier inthe day...

...but CIM is a globally elite classical guitar program led by arguably the best active classical guitarist the world (Vieaux). I have doubts whether or not the playing in the above video would have been good enough to get a sniff, let alone a scholarship, for freshman undergrad. These aren't normal students (let alone the faculty, of which my main teacher was part for 20+ years before retiring).

These are freak people. And I mean that as a compliment.

***

It really shouldn't be a surprise that the guy playing for all this was a boss. A weird, unorthodox boss, but a boss nonetheless. Micheli is a winner of the Guitar Foundation of America's international competition...the most cutthroat competition in this little niche of the world.

And I'm going to be honest...my guitar teacher certainly was, bailing halfway through...half of the program I did not like. It was well performed and I learned a bunch (more in a second), but the material was so far out of my wheelhouse I just couldn't dig it. The half I liked was the Castelnuovo-Tedesco stuff.

But man, this guy...listen I know what I'm doing and know where I'm going...but fuck. Humbling isn't even accurate. I spent the drive home and rest of the evening contemplating why do I even bother? The standard he set was so far beyond things I can...not conceive or relate to...but like, I can't ever run a metaphorical four-minute mile here. I'm not built or wired right.

I'm not talking speed...I could keep up with him just fine. It wasn't necessarily technique either, but it kinda was? I know that doesn't make sense...but the way he manipulated the guitar to take advantage of dynamic ranges I just can't even fathom, was jaw dropping.

Let me try to explain here...the absolute softest played notes of mine are barely audible...yet somehow, he can barely brush his fingers on the strings and produce this pillowy soft note that is full and rich and projects to the back of the room. That's not the guitar, that's technique.

Here's another thing I...just...can't.

When you move your right hand closer to the bridge, you get a brighter, more distinct tone. Closer to the soundhole, warmer and richer, yet less clear. It's a spectrum.

Personally, I can't control my volume well at moderate distances from the middle point. If I'm closer to the bridge, it's gonna be loud...just loud, the whole time. If I'm by the soundhole, it's either gonna be really loud or really quiet because my touch just isn't anywhere, anyhwere, close to his...which should be obvious given he's played more professional classical guitar concerts in his career than I've played classical guitar days in my life.

His mastery of dynamics, and I'm talking at extreme ends here, was just breathtaking. You might be thinking this is some meaningless shit, but it's not...not only was he taking advantage of the whole instrument, he was doing so with mastery. It just sounded...it just sounded better, man.

His right hand technique was incredibly unorthodox, but that allowed him to do things that most orthodox guitarists (like myself) couldn't really think of, let alone master. I'm really rambling here so I won't go too far into shit like attack angles BUT MAN HIS ATTACK ANGLES WERE WILD.

To sum it up, this guy's program might not have been up my alley, but his playing sure was.

***

I'll speed this along so I don't spend hundreds of words explaining things I can't explain again.

My teacher and I were sitting directly behind this woman, who I'm seeing tonight (Sunday - EDIT: she was awesome). I highly, highly recommend watching two minutes of this video above, played on a 1926 harp guitar.

She's one of the world's finest guitarists. She's also quite small in stature, and after seeing her in person, I have absolutely no idea how she's able to do this stretch at 4:45.

If any of you have a guitar laying around, try putting your hand in that position. Just try it, you'll get it. It'll probably feel like you're putting some effort into holding all those strings down while stretching, but just give it a try to see how it feels.

Now watch 4:45-4:52 and see how she gets there. That's not a chord that she's spending a few seconds getting into...that chord is a passing note. She breezes by it like it wasn't even an obstacle, chopping down a bunch of convoluted shit that you would think require NFL WR sized hands.

And that's one example...just look at some of this shit.

These next two pics are the exact same chords...

...I've got big hands, and me getting into this chord takes some effort. It doesn't feel natural, you have to cover a good amount of real estate while barring multiple strings at the same time. Note, I could probably comfortably hit the next fret by the way my pinkie is curved (and the next one too if I supinated my wrist like she's doing), but that's not the point...

The point is, if this chord takes me considerable effort to get into with large hands laying in a natural position, for her it's much more of one. And yet, she handles shit like this with more than just ease...it's routine ease.

She has such extremely gifted dexterity and flexibility, I can't really physically relate to it. From a horse's mouth...chords like that? It takes a day or two of practice to get those down. Those are the types of chords that get pencil all over them from notes and fingerings, the types of chords even the metronome is sick of hearing over and over. For her, they're just another dead body.

Whatever you want to call the notion of God, they gave her some of most gifted pairs of hands I've ever seen.

***

Lets finish this up.

Then this guy...

...came out for the encore to do a duet of a song by this guy.

***

Anyways...