#back at it again with another reminder about how AMAZING gang of youths is

[arse-crack-thistle]

quality time

rwrb and the five love languages | part four

in which bea nearly crashes from the stress of party-planning (aroace rep)

Princess Beatrice buzzes around The Masquerade, double-checking place cards, straightening table settings, and pulling dried rose petals from the centerpieces. She rented the concert venue for the night to throw a modern Valentine’s gala to benefit Henry’s queer youth center in London. He and Alex are around here somewhere, probably hooking up in a broom cupboard and definitely not nitpicking every detail like Bea is. Her assistant follows her with a clipboard and updates her on the schedule: t-minus three hours until guests arrive and, in the meantime, she needs to give final approval, soundcheck with the band, and get dressed up. Jeans and a blazer, while royal casual, are not party-appropriate, and tonight needs to be perfect.

She usually hates royal events like galas, but this one is special. Not because it’s Valentine’s Day—Bea could not give two fucks about the holiday—but because ever since coming out as asexual around Christmas, she’s been looking for an opportunity to help other queer people, or at least give them a public figure they could point to and say, “See Mum and Dad, she’s like me.” Henry and Alex got their chance, and now this time, it’s hers.

The stage lights up with pink and red; it’s cheesy, but Bea digs it. The concert was the one thing she would not budge on with her royal event planner. Did she want to reach into wealthy pockets? Yes. Did she still want to have a good time? Hell yes. And the band she’s joining for one night only happens to be just as queer as the charity they’re supporting.

Permanent Record, local to London, tune their instruments on stage. Bea has met them dozens of times over the last month and vibed with them instantly. Margot, the too-cool lead singer always decked out in a leather jacket and Docs, is ace like her, and as much as Bea has wanted to get to know them, there’s been no time. Turns out, party-planning and party-executing steals the host away from all meaningful human connection. She’s only been able to keep up with Henry because he’s partly responsible for this event.

The pit, full of tables covered in pink and gold, finally looks perfect enough for Bea to hand-off any other minute fixes to the planner and finally have her soundcheck with the band. But then, a large crash comes from the back of the venue, and she hears a loud shriek coming from a familiar voice, the one that’s been shrill and disapproving for the last month. When Bea runs up, she sees hundreds of shattered champaign flutes and her planner on the floor, blood oozing from her hands.

This cannot be happening. The only reason Bea kept this woman around was to take most of the day-of duties off her plate. But she’s in the back of an ambulance now, and Henry is nowhere to be found. Bea’s stress levels go from tolerable to unbearable as she orders her assistant to track down replacement flutes. The staff are quick to fill her other requests: a couple of people start sweeping, someone runs off to find her co-host, another tells the band Bea’s soundcheck will be postponed, and a brave soul steps up as a temporary assistant and follows her around the back tables to check for broken glass. Bea knows she doesn’t have to be the one to do this, but it seems like the success of this event lies solely one her shoulders. If something goes wrongs, it’s her face—not Henry’s—in the papers the next day. Powder Princess Crashes and Burns at Gay Ball. Christ.

After an hour, everything is sorted. There’s no glass. The planner is getting stiches. Permanent Record has started their soundcheck and sound amazing. But even their chill indie tunes can’t calm the princess. She needs to get on stage, but her stylist specifically requested she have at least two hours to work his magic, which is not going to happen.

Bea tells her assistant to get her stylist and his team to the venue, because she won’t be able to leave, and warn him he’ll only have an hour at best. Henry and Alex have already taken off to get ready, and she has to remind herself to smack them later for abandoning her.

She tugs off her blazer, drapes it over a chair, and rolls up her sleeves. If she does get her hands on a guitar, she’ll explode. It’s all she can think of to stop her from raiding the bar at the back.

“Better late than never, eh, Princess?” Margot says as she huffs on stage.

One of the stagehands gives Bea her beautiful sleek, black Fender Stratocaster, and her anxiety reduces itself to a hum. Music can’t cure all, but it certainly keeps her from wrecking every good thing in her life.

“Let’s just play,” she says.

But it’s anything but perfect. Whatever chemistry she had with Permanent Record somehow jumped into the Thames between their last rehearsal and now because this is an absolute travesty and she’s only playing two songs with them tonight. She’s forgotten measures of one song and can’t find the chords fast enough in her solo of the other. Utter shit.

Why does she even fucking bother?

She always fucks everything up. Always. Why did she think she could put this on? Sure, she’s chaired these events before, but not ones she actually cares about, not ones she’s actually put her heart into. Christ, no wonder. She should’ve known it would turn out like this. She’s the anti-Midas; everything she touches turns to shit.

No kid will ever see her as a queer role model. She’s the girl they point to and say, “See Mum and Dad, what a waste.”

She needs a hit so fucking bad.

Which is why she has to get out of here ASAP. Before she does anything she’ll regret. She won’t slip again, and she won’t be the reason this gala fails. Henry can handle it without her.

So when Margot calls for a five-minute break, Bea excuses herself and hands off her guitar. On her way out the door, she tells the stagehand to find her assistant and tell her to have Henry take over. The hard part is over thanks to the planner actually being brilliant at her job, even if she and Bea would never get along.

No doubt, cameras are already lined up outside, so she hides in one of the green rooms and locks the door behind her. If she just takes a deep breath and calms down, she can bring herself back from the edge.

Five things she can see: The 1975, Arctic Monkeys, Oasis, Solange, and Fiona Apple’s signatures on the artist wall.

Four things she can feel: the worn leather on a crusty couch, the chipped-paint walls, her toes in her shoes, and her fingers through her light brown hair.

Three things she can hear: the ticking from the clock, the click of her heels as she paces, and a knock at the door.

Two things she can smell: decades-old musk from artists past—no doubt coming from the couch—and her light perfume on her wrist.

One thing she can taste: a hint of coffee from earlier.

She breathes in and out, and the knock on the door continues.

“Bea, are you in there? Could you let me in?” Margot. Essentially a stranger. She supposes it’s better than facing a disappointed Henry, so she opens the door and promptly relocks it as soon as they’re inside.

“Christ, this place is legendary, isn’t it? Everyone’s played here—is that Bob Dylan? Fucking nuts,” Margot says, pointing to the wall.

“I’ve seen loads of people here. Always wanted to play here myself,” Bea tells them. She traces Lizzo’s signature. That was a fun night; Nora and June flew out for a girls’ night, which was ultimately crashed by Pez.

“Me too, and the rest of band as well, I suppose.” Margot looks at Bea and smiles. They’re brown eyes crinkle in the corner, and it reminds her of Alex. “And now we get to, eh, Princess? Couldn’t’ve gotten here without you. The whole world knows Permanent Record now.”

“You could’ve done it without me,” she says. “You will tonight anyway.”

“Hey.” They reach for Bea’s hand. “Everyone has some hiccups before a big gig. It’ll be grand, but only if you’re there. This is your night as much as it is ours or the youth center’s. You have no idea how important it is for your lot to shine a light on causes people shy away from.”

That makes Bea smile. For so long she wanted to hide from her position. She wanted freedom to do whatever she pleased, but now she understands the power she has, even if people still see her as “The Powder Princess.” No matter what she wears, millions of fashion influencers share links to her clothes. If she walks into a restaurant, their yearly profits skyrocket. When she told the world she was ace, thousands of people messaged her and said the same. One of them was Margot, telling her about their undiscovered band from South London.

She tells Margot how that was one of the first times she really felt like herself. Completely at peace with who she is. How that peace got away from her and turned this gala into a near-panic-attack-inducing event, she doesn’t know.

“Have you let on how stressed you’ve been to anyone?” Margot asks. The two sit together on the couch after Margot bravely plopped themself down on the dirty, old thing.

“Hadn’t the time,” she says. Truthfully, Bea doesn’t think she’s had a genuine conversation with anyone since the gala’s conception.

Margot throws their hands in the air. “Well, there you go then! You’ve got to take the time! To take care of yourself. To hang out with your mates. Just to have some goddamn fun, Bea! Come on! You think I’d be a functioning human if I didn’t let loose with my mates every now and then? This—” They gesture to their body, covered in tattoos and tattered black clothing. “Doesn’t happen on its own.”

Bea laughs. It’s been so long since she’s laughed from anything other than stress. “Right, so how does this all happen then?” She swirls her hand in Margot’s direction.

As they chat, Bea relaxes. They talk about their families and uni and music and coming out. Bea tells Margot about the time she and the gang went to the karaoke bar where Henry got wasted and sang Queen horrifically. Margot tells her about the time in year twelve when they got dared to try out for the school play and ended up playing an old man in the most unbelievable bald cap.

Eventually, the two of them pull out their phones and play a few games of Among Us until Bea’s desperate assistant finds her and pleads for her to get ready though the door. They only have an hour before guests arrive.

“You all right?” Margot asks. “Want to go out there and try again?”

Funny how it doesn’t seem so scary anymore. How it only took a short break, a nice chat, and a little pink astronaut to put Bea at ease. She smiles. The notes come back to her fingertips.

check out the rest of my rwrb and the five love languages series: part one, part two, part three, and part five. (links to come as they’re released)

listen, my permanent headcanon is aroace bea and you will never convince me otherwise and i will never write her as anything else bc i love her so much!! (that being said, if you ship her with anyone, i totally understand). also, i reference a fic of mine i wrote for winterfest so if you want to check out my version of bea’s coming out, you can do that here! and finally, i know this wasn’t a romantic fic for romance week but like i said in part one, valentine’s day is different for everyone. <3

rwrb romance week | @rwrb-fests

[khhunniewriting]

The Others (17)

[ Mafia/Gang AU ]  [ Index ]

Simon eyed Jay with speculation. It had been a while now since they got anywhere with their plot against Dok2. By now the rumor of a second young boss from Illionaire had begun circulating. Other groups were questioning the legitimacy of the rumor but none had a reason to believe it was true when Dok2 had been known to be distant and cold to his own wife.

The thought of such a man having another woman was almost unimaginable to most.

Jay Park and AOMG were the only ones who persisted in following the rumors. After all, they had stumbled upon the potential second young boss long before.

“What are we doing here Jay?” They were out in the open making themselves easily visible. Since they were just at the foot of Illionaire’s territory it was safe to assume they were being watched.

The question was rhetorical of course. Jay was taunting Dok2, calling him out by crossing unannounced and standing his ground.

There were easier ways to call Dok2 out.

“I had Sik-k follow them around today.” Jay began telling Simon D all about their day up until the moment Sik-K saw Dok2 and you enter a restaurant on the north side- hence his appearance. “Any minute now... I’m sure they’ll tell him and he’ll come to us.”

“And then what?”

“They went out on a date, there are no visible guards, knowing him he won’t risk Y/N’s safety. He’ll leave her behind somewhere safe and come alone.” Jay smirked after exposing his thoughts to his second in command. “Except there is no safe place.”

\\\

“We have a problem,” The Quiett’s usually steady voice came across uneasy.

“I see...” Joonkyung looked up at you his jaw clenching as he heard what Kylie had done. He wanted nothing more than to deal with her once and for all but before he could curse her name he was given even more to worry about. 

The smile that had been plastered on your face all evening was steadily wearing off as you saw the change in Joonkyung’s mood. You could tell he was holding back. 

“What’s wrong,” you asked after he finally hung up. Your mind immediately went to Leo and Ji-hoon who had been left alone in the mansion. “Are Leo and Ji-hoon-”

“They’re fine,” he assured you the call he received wasn’t about them. “AOMG is in the area.”

“Here?”

“Nearby.” 

He began to move, his silence making it obvious he had no intention of including you. But you weren’t too keen on being left out. You took a hold of his hand and his attention. “Joonkyung... what are you going to do?”

He made it clear that he would be going alone and leaving you behind for safety reasons. There were plenty of ways for Jay Park to request a meeting with him, many procedures were in place to keep the peace between groups. The problem was when groups didn’t intend for peaceful discussion and reverted to provocation. "I’ll have them take you back home.”

Dok2 motioned to the entrance where a few of his guards stood. The one in front nodded confirming to him that they were ready to proceed. 

You were amazed by the speed and efficiency of their gestures. Through small inconspicuous signs, they were able to communicate leaving you out at a loss. The two of you walked hand-in-hand out of the dining hall and to the foyer where the guards greeted you.

Concerned for his safety you hesitated to let go of his hand and follow them. “Are you going to be alright by yourself?”

“I’m not really going alone. I’m the boss, there are plenty of hidden guards following me at all times.”

That would explain why you never saw guards around him the way Zene and Ash followed the boys. Feeling a little less worried you let go of his hand but stepped closer to quickly plant a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Joonkyung nodded, his lips slightly curving up in a suppressed smile. He didn’t want to show this side of himself to his subordinates but it was inevitable in this case. 

You watched him exit the restaurant through the front entrance where the valet had already brought his car out. You, on the other hand, were escorted out through the back and into the multi-level parking structure. The entire time you walked in silence with a guard at each side and another behind you in silence. The four of you entered the elevator going up to the fourth floor. The three guards stood in front of you this time, forming a wall between you and the elevator doors.

In the silence of the elevator, your mind wandered to Leo. Eager to know if he was okay you looked for your phone within your purse. Just as you were about to unlock the screen the elevator came to a stop so you pushed it back into your pocket deciding to call him once you were in the car.

A loud ding echoed through the silence when the elevator came to a stop at the correct floor. When the doors started sliding open the guards raised their guard at the sight of an armed individual. The guard directly in front of you reached back for the concealed gun he kept on his person. 

You did not see what happened next.

You closed your eyes at the sound of a gun going off.

Another two loud bangs caused your ears to ring. 

When you opened them, the security wall in front of you fell with three loud thuds. Your body seemed to shake for a moment as adrenaline coursed through your veins. Unconsciously your hands moved to your cheeks alerted by an unknown warmth.

You could only blink before growing conscious of the overwhelming presence before you. A man came into view smiling to reveal a diamond-encrusted grill over his teeth. 

Sik-k stepped over the dead bodies to extend his hand to you. He was efficient, all three shots hit their marks, killing the guards mercilessly. Yet, his hand politely asked for yours as if nothing had happened. 

“This way Lady Y/N.”

His command reminded you of the way your hands stilled on your cheeks. Retracting and observing them caused your heart to still. A warm, sticky, red liquid coated your fingertips. Looking down at the bodies at your feet you noticed the same shade of red splattered over your clothes and ends of your hair.

It was blood.

Their blood.

It only took a second glance to recall that this was the man that had attempted to kidnap your son. Enraged, you slapped his hand away.

“You!”

Minsik chuckled, amused by the fact that you weren’t scared or begging for your life. “Still have it in you to fight back I see...”

Your eyes left him to glance at the gun one of the guards had managed to draw but not use. 

“I can shoot you before you even pick that up.”

Not willing to find out whether it was true or not, you gave up on the idea and steeled your nerves to give as defiant a look you could. You needed to remain calm even if it was all a farce. 

It was obvious he had no intention of killing you. He could have done so already. The only other thing that came to mind was leverage- using you to get to Joonkyung.

“What do you want?”

Sik-k’s smirk was replaced by a genuine smile amused by your indignant tone. The closer he looked the easier it was to see why the boss had asked him to treat you with as little force as possible. He had seen his fair share of beautiful women so he wasn’t easily taken by you or anything like that. But he had to admit the defiance in your eyes was doing something to him.

It awoke an urge inside him to break it.

He knew Jay intended to placate him ever since he was demoted. The only reason they did not let him go was because he was an asset and a danger to them. Sik-k knew too much. Now that he was no longer content with his position in H1ghr he saw an opportunity in you. Betraying Jay and keeping the person he had grown interested in seemed fun. But possibly better still was the possibility of cashing in on that bounty he had gotten word of moments ago. 

At this point you were a blank check to him if he went to Dok2 with a proposition of his own.

What to do?

What DID he want to do?

“I haven’t decided yet.”

\\\

At the arcade, Ji-hoon and Leo took hold of the plastic guns that were wired up to the game in front of them. Leo took the red while Ji-hoon held the blue like a pro, making it obvious he had frequented the game.

“This one’s simple, just aim and fire.”

Leo nodded figuring that much out on his own but going along with Ji-hoon’s instruction.

Zene and Ash stood on either side of the game. Thanks to their youthful appearances it was possible for them to stick close to the young bosses. At arcades, it was natural for groups of friends to gather in this way. 

Seeing their stances, Zene couldn’t help but point out the flaws. “Young boss you have to straighten your back.”

Leo immediately did so, even allowing Zene to position his hands and shoulders correctly to the point where he looked ready to shoot a real gun.

With seconds left before the game started Ji-hoon groaned as Zene tried to correct him as well. “It’s just a game, it doesn’t matter how you stand.”

Start.

Right away Leo began shooting the targets that popped out on the screen, never missing one and never needing more than a couple shots. He aimed directly at the head not because the game specified but because he had seen enough movies to know what would be the sure-shot. When he missed he would try again.

“Wha-!” Ji-hoon’s eyes doubled in size as he heard a chorus of “perfect” coming from his brother’s side. The game’s semi-robotic voice would always announce the quality of the kill making him unable to concentrate on his own.

Halfway through he decided to give Zene’s pointers a try and began seeing instant results. By then it was too late. The game came to an end with Leo as the victor.

“That’s bull-” Ji-hoon was ready to protest until he turned to see Leo smiling. LEO... his I’m to cool and mature to express my emotions openly...his one and only younger brother was actually smiling like a little kid.

Even Ash and Zene were unable to stop staring.

“What’s next?” Leo eagerly awaited Ji-hoon’s response relying on him to show him which of the many flashy games was worth playing.

“Leo did you just-” Ji-hoon grinned. There was still a hint of that smile curving the ends of Leo’s lips and a gleam in his eyes that finally had him looking like any other teenager. He was sure if he pointed it out Leo would just revert back to his icy disposition so Ji-hoon chose to keep quiet. “You should try racing games.”

Ji-hoon led the way to his favorite of the type. He sat down motioning for Leo to sit in the machine next to his. “Have you ever driven stick before?”

Leo shook his head.

“Wait, have you driven at all?”

Legally neither was able to drive yet but Ji-hoon had already been taught by his father. It was something Joonkyung came to regret as Ji-hoon soon began to sneak off with one of his cars. 

“No.”

“Then let’s stick with automatic, you can forget about the clutch.” 

Everything Ji-hoon said went in one ear and out the other. Leo had absolutely no experience with cars since he’s used public transportation his entire life up until his father showed up. 

Catching the blank stare Ji-hoon realized Leo knew nothing at all. “Do you even know which is the gas and which is the brake?”

Leo looked down at the pedals at his feet before very mater of factly responding that he had no idea.

“Oh, man...” Ji-hoon’s chin rose as he was presented with the opportunity to act like the older brother that he was. He could never hope to surpass Leo on any school subjects or beat him in basketball. This was his chance to show him there were things he could teach him, that there was something he could rely on him for. “Let your older brother teach you.”

Across, the once occupied machines were now empty allowing Zene and Ash to join them. 

And after Leo’s quick lesson the four of them raced against each other.

They were all so into the game that Ji-hoon ignored the ringing of his cellphone. He was in high spirits, laughing at Leo’s misfortune every time he crashed into one thing or another.

But...

“What the-” Ji-hoon eyed Leo through the corner of his eye. It was impossible how quickly he had adapted from one round to another. After winning once Ji-hoon thought he would surely keep winning so why was he staring at the back of Leo’s car.

Leo couldn’t help but smirk as his screen flashed the first place title.

Ji-hoon didn’t have it in him to be upset when Leo was so obviously happy. It was strange how eager he was to see his younger brother laugh and smile. 

Their fun was interrupted when Ji-hoon’s phone went off. He quickly answered seeing the familiar name pop up. “Auntie!”

Luna would have relished the voice of her cute nephew greeting her enthusiastically if it weren’t for the situation. But for now she had to get to the point. “Ji-hoon you need to listen to me.” She could tell from the background noise that he was out. “Get home,  now! I’m on my way there to explain the situation.”

Ji-hoon immediately gave Zene and Ash the signal to leave. They sprung into action Ash walking ahead while Zene urged a confused Leo to follow. 

Leo didn’t say anything but worry settled in so clearly on his face that Ji-hoon immediately assured him everything would be okay after he hung up the phone. 

“I’m sure he won’t let anything happen to her.”

-end-

A/N: I’m BAAAACK!!!!!!! I had to stop it there for dramatic effect. I know some of you might not be satisfied with this short update so I’ll try to get that next part out soon to complete the feel and move the story forward.

(I was too excited to proofread so some mistakes may be included)

[spiltscribbles]

Pearly White Lincoln

.-

She’s fierce.

Steven Hyde has always known that much about Jackie Burkhart, even before she began dating one of his best friends. Back when she was just a doe eyed, cheerleading, force of nature and glamor. Back when she was the first underclassmen to win the illustrious title of homecoming queen, and would sashay down the halls with an impenetrable air of arrogance mixed with a superiority complex a mile wide. Too pretty for her own good and too smart to give a damn. Acting like for all the world, this dingy ass, rundown town owed her. That if nothing else, Point Place needs to pay it’s dues for holding her back from which ever dream she has for that week, with all it’s trappings of mediocrity.

The worst part of it is that she might not be totally off base.

She’s the only Freshman that any of the senior guys look at with a twinkle in their eyes, the only one with a shrill enough voice to make’m cower in submission. She’s loud, and abrasive, and does this thing where she wrinkles her upturned nose right before ripping to shreds anyone who she deems worthy of her ninety pound, label whoring wrath of fury.

He hates her purely on the principle of the thing.

Teenage dirtbags and prom queens to be don’t mix, that’s just logic. Just like it’s logic that cars aren’t supposed to ride on water, or that anything Mrs. Forman bakes is bound to be fantastic. And it’s only logic that he starts to resent the pint-sized beauty queen for getting her perfectly manicured claws into his oldest friend right around the same time his other best friend is finally trying to make a move on the only girl Hyde has ever loved in any kind of way, and right when Edna makes her monthly topple off the wagon.

It’s only logic that he, Steven Hyde, hates everything Jackie Burkhart has ever had to offer.

.-

Hyde’s defected.

He’s sure of it, there’s something wrong in his DNA or some shit. Something that prevents him from conjuring up the appropriate feelings corresponding towards the right people. That’s why he can’t find it in himself to hate Edna— the only one of his parents who actually bothered enough to stay, even when she’s smacking him upside the head after losing her lot in that night’s poker match, or however many times she loves to remind Hyde that he’s the sole purpose why her all too promising career as a performer at the Barnett Water Show met it’s bitter end. It’s almost like a pastime for her— telling Hyde that he’s a mistake, in every sense of the word. He’s the worst version of a kid that any parent would ever want. It’s why Bud left before Hyde hit puberty. Why she resents him for it. Why she’ll never forgive him for fettering her to the ugly underbelly of a small town existence. Forcing her to be a drunkard, single parent barely holding onto the vestiges of youth she still has left.

On those nights, when Edna would get so plastered that she couldn’t stand straight, that she’d start singing some sappy ballad about time lost and scorning all her ex lovers, were the nights Hyde hated the most. More than the hitting or teasing. It was those nights that solidified the fact in his mind that he’s really not worth a damn, and he should stop pretending as much. He’ll be blessed if he doesn’t end up in prison, or knocking up a chick before he’s graduated high school.

But whatever, Hyde’s a mistake. A dirtbag. An insignificant piece of shit on someone’s shoe. He knows that. He’s over giving a damn about his inevitable fate, he’s excepted as much after living the truth of it for going on seventeen years.

In fact, Hyde doesn’t care about anything.

not a damn thing.

Nothing.

Well excluding the hand full of pot heads he’s somehow grown an unwavering loyalty towards, and attachment with. A cluster of mismatched individuals who’s friendship was manufactured from a shared unconformity, and solidified by a decade of spending every god damn day in each other’s orbits.

Hyde thinks they’re the closest thing he’s ever known to a family, and he hates the idea of altering that dynamic.

So one night, early in their junior year, , when he knows that Forman’s gonna give big red his class ring, he tells Donna he cares for her, that he knows she cares for him too. Because Hyde knows it in his bones that the gang could deal with them being on again, off again. They’re a casual match, he and Donna. More alike than not, with a shared cynicism towards how the establishment’s keeping them down. Nothing particularly remarkable, or amazing in their union. They’d never be the sort to have their names written in the skies, or flourish into some sort of ridiculous caricature of the Little House On The Prairie . But Hyde thinks that they’d be decent to one another. That it’s all kinds of fun when he kisses Donna. He knows that he won’t ever blame her when she eventually move to Madison for college, and then to like Prague or some shit, following her dreams. Hyde and Donna wouldn’t be much of anything after all, so it wouldn’t be a big deal.

But her and Forman?

Eric and Donna are this generations Romeo and Juliette waiting to happen. Both way to lost on each other— trading heart eyes and dopey grins like it’s an olympic sport. THey’d never be able to keep their feelings safely tucked away behind tinted shades, and an aloof exterior. And when they inevitably have their heartbreaking breakup, it’d demolish everything that Hyde has built for himself with this crew of dumbasses. A relationship sealed by brimstone and sheer force of will. The only relationship he’s ever allowed himself to care for with any other person. One that’d probably hurt like hell losing.

So no, he can’t let Forman admit his precious little feelings to the busty, girl next door. And if he has to get in the way, so be it. It’s not a big deal, it’s not like Hyde doesn’t like Donna? That’d be insane! Even if she wasn’t totally smoking.

Hyde likes the way the light catches in her pretty, ginger hair. Likes that she’s not dandy when it comes to her opinion, or playing a round of ball. He likes just about everything that has to do with Donna. And fuck off if he doesn’t get it when Forman talks about feeling queasy in his stomach when around her, like some girlie ass butterflies were swarming down there. Or that his palms don’t get sweaty, like how Kelso’s do whenever he’s with Jackie. They probably only do that because she’s berating him about being an idiot for something or the other, or Kelso’s feeling guilty over something stupid like losing one of her pretty, pink unicorns.

That shit’s unnecessary. At least he likes her as a person, which is way more than any of Edna’s trashy fuck boys could ever say about whatever chick they’re nailing. They’ve told Hyde time and time again that the only important quality in a broad is whether or not she can give’m a stiffy.

Screw that, at least Hyde respects Donna as an actual person.

That respect is why once he finds out later that night that they’re finally together— subsequent to a sobered up Donna and Eric finally growing a pair to ask her to be his girl— Hyde’s happy for them. Even if it’s their own funeral they’re paving the path towards.

He tells Eric as much, with the only caveat that he’s not gonna let them fuck up the group. Warns him that he’s not taking any of their dumbass sides if they break up.

Eric just laughs, cause he’s never known what it’s like to have the ground slipped right from under you. And Hyde just smiles, because he’d never want Forman, his brother in all but blood, to experience that kind of hurt.

.-

Hyde reckons he’s a hypocrite, or maybe just too dumb to heath his own warnings.

But here he is, on the night of prom, renting a suit because he’s begrudgingly agree to escort none other than the epitome of prep herself, Jackie freaking Burkhart, to his junior prom. And all because his dumbass of a best friend cheated on her by pawing at Pam Macy in public, and Jackie sobbed until Hyde lost his resolve.

Fucking hell, he’s going weak.

The doorbell rings, and Hyde ignores the cursed taunting by his ma to answer, swiftly picking up the corsage he’d bought her on his way.

What Hyde doesn’t expect is opening the door and promptly having the breath snatched right from his longs.

“Wow… You look beautiful.”

She beams up at him, light curls framing her pretty face, and sugarplum pink dress making the green in her chestnut eyes flare with an unbridled amount of mirth.

Hyde doesn’t know why his heart thuds at the sight, or why he suddenly has no words for this girl who he’s always figured was the living embodiment of everyone that’s ever told him he’s not worth a damn.

“So do you.”

Hyde barely registers himself handing her the corsage, or leading her away from Edna’s uncharitable ribbing.

Someone like her belongs in-between the leather bindings of a fairytale book, and definitely not somewhere like here, in the dark recesses of society. Not where Hyde has created his own little corner of the galaxy.

.-

It’s no surprise when the pretty cheerleader ends the night in the arms of her moronic ex-boyfriend, and Hyde finishes off in between the legs of the girl who broke them up in the first place.

Nor is it really a surprise when Kelso’s incessant cheating catches up to him, finally blowing up in his face, and making him lose at least one of the girl’s he’s been juggling.

What is a surprise is that he gives up on Jackie so easily, opting to prance around with the she-devil herself. Especially after months of bitching about how much he loves Burkhart.

Another surprise is how much fun it is taking Jackie under his wing, teaching her the art of zen, and even getting to watch a totally sexy cat fight with her and Laurie. Which is never not a good sight— especially considering how Jackie totally beat her ass.

So that’s it. Hyde thinks of Jackie as just another— if not a occasionally vapid— friend. Prom night was just a fluke, and sure she’s hot. But hell, so is Donna, and even Laurie, you know, in her own special, hellish kind of way.

Jackie’s just that. A hot chick who he can chill with. Ya know, when she’s not running her trap.

Everything’s cool. Hyde’s just as aloof and untethered as always.

.-

Jackie thinks she’s in love with him, and Hyde’s convinced she’s finally gone off her rocker.

But to be fair, Hyde reasons that so has he , considering the fact he’s taken her side in every Kelso induced argument, went to jail— leading him to get kicked out of the only home he’s ever felt welcomed in— over her bag of pot, and then punched some idiotic prick for actually calling her a bitch.

No, never mind. Hyde’s sure of it. He’s medically insane, and that’’s why he cuts out of the Forman’’s Veteran’s Day barbecue early, to take Jackie out on a stupid date.

The worst part of the whole ordeal is that it’s not the worst date he’s ever been on— by a long shot. He’d probably deny it till his dying day, but Jackie’s funny in her own quirky way. He likes hearing her talk passionately about crap that really has no importance outside of her shiny, Versace veneered bubble. He likes that she looks at him like he’s not some injured, little fuck up. Like she’s happy to be here, sitting besides him. She’s not slumming it, she genuinely wants to give them, give him, a fair shot. And that’s pretty cool… Really cool if he’s being honest.

By the end of the date, they actually share a smile, something warm, something like nothing’s Hyde’s ever felt with a chick before.

Their eyes are still boring into each other when he ducks down, and she inclines her head forwards.

Hyde kisses the homecoming queen atop her daddy’s pearly white Lincoln, and it doesn’t feel like the end of the world as he knows it.

She tastes like lilac skies, and the gumdrop cookies Edna use to make while singing Sinatra on her especially good days, and like something quintessentially Jackie. . It’s a kiss just on this edge of amazing, and Hyde hates that he might have to admit that she’s actually been right all along.

But then she pulls away. Tells’m that there’s no spark.

“Nothing?”

She shakes her head no, before he’s forced to agree. Because fuck, what’d he think? That this is some sort of chick-flick. That the pampered, pretty girl would ever really choose the lowly, orphan boy in real life?

What a fucking joke.

He hops off the lid, and opens the door for her.

They grab a couple burgers and fries and talk like his tongue wasn’t down her throat only half an hour prior, and it’s fine. It’s good.

He’s never let his feelings for anyone cloud his judgment before, he won’t start now.

.-

Months later, after she puts the final nail in the ever tumultuous coffin that was her relationship with Michael Kelso, they kind of fall into one another.

They spend the summer leading to his senior year kissing behind every shadowed corner, and tucked away crevasse.

She tells him it means nothing, and Hyde tells her the same. Because it doesn’t. Because whatever he might’ve felt for Jackie was efficiently scuffed away by the heal of her red bottom shoes months prior, and what they’re doing now is just all heat, and lust, and mostly to do with the boredom of the summer getting to them.

That’s what Hyde tells himself at least.

.-

“Oh my God! I win!” Jackie crows, leaping off her seat and shaking around in a risible excuse for dancing.

Hyde loses all interest in the chessboard, nodding approvingly at the way she moves in her tiny shorts and spaghetti top before she smacks him playfully.

“Hey man! I’m just appreciating the consolation prize!”

“Uncouth pig.” She  rolls her eyes at him before flopping back in her powder pink duvet, long soft hair fanning around her like a dark halo.

“You wanna stay over tonight?” Hyde thinks she’s trying to ask as casually as possible, but he can see the hope in the quirk of her brow.

“Naw, man Forman had to tell his parents that I wasn’t at breakfast this morning cause I was at the library. I didn’t even know this town had a library!” He kind of feels his heart constrict at her disappointment. “You know Red’d freak if he found out I was spending the nights here, probably assume shit.”

“Yeah, true.” She pouts, averting her gaze. “You better get going then before Red starts to flip.”

“Right… So your ma still isn’t back, huh?”

Hyde would like to pretend that he doesn’t shrink back at the sudden flash of rage in her eyes.

“No Steven! I told you! She’s still working on her tan in Mexico.” Jackie sits up, crossing her arms defensively. “We Burkhart women have a reputation to uphold! If we’re not the epitome of beauty, what’ll people like Donna have to live up to!” Hyde idly wonders how she’s become such a pro of diversion.  “It’s really a hard job Steven, we constantly have to be on our A game, or else the whole pyramid of beauty standards crumbles!”

“Ah huh…?”

Her lips pinch, brows scrunched together with no small amount of frustration.

“Look just take your surly attitude and get going, will you? I have a Tiger Beat to read.”

“Jackie I’m not gonna leave you alone here. Now c’mon, tell me what the hell’s actually going on! Your mom’s been working on her tan for the last month!”

“Steven, it’s real hard to get the perfect golden brown—“

“Jackie!”

“What!”

“Is your mom even coming back home?”

The stutter in her answer right then is enough of a tell for Hyde to demand she packs an overnight bag. “You’re staying the night with me at the Forman’s.”

She doesn’t move, stance rigid, and set jaw.

“I don’t need to stay with you Steven. I’m fine. I have my house keeper coming tomorrow morning, I’ll be fine.”

Hyde wants to argue, wants to shout that like fuck he’s gonna leave his chick here in this enormous place all by herself overnight. That she shouldn’t have such a fucking hardhead when it comes to him. That he knows that they started this thing off with steamy makeouts, but she should know it’s moved way passed that. They— their relationship… it means the fucking world to him. This thing they have going for them is probably one of the most important things in his life. Hyde would’ve never risked his friendship with one of his oldest pals if it weren’t.

Honestly, Hyde wants to shout that she should’ve told him when she realized Pam wasn’t coming home. She should’ve trusted him, because yeah Hyde kind of sucks at the whole communicating with words thing. But he still would’ve tried, for her. Hell, he’s pretty terrified because he’s just about sure that there’s not a single thing he wouldn’t do for Jackie freaking Burkhart.

He does none of that. Partly because he has no idea where to even begin, and partly because he knows that even with all their differences, he and Jackie were cut from the same cloth. Both to stubborn for what’s good for them, and both to independent to admit they’d need anything at all from anyone.

So instead of all that, Hyde just putters up to her, rubs a hand up and down her arm with feeling.

“Look i’m kinda accustomed to having someone plastered all up on me while I sleep, and waking up cold cause she stole the blankets. If you don’t come with me I’ll probably never be comfortable in my cot alone.”

Her glower is securely set on her face, but Hyde feels a thaw in her exterior.

“I don’t steal the blankets, you throw them on me.”

“Whatever you say doll,” he kisses her temple, and when she squeezes him in an embrace, he pretends he doesn’t feel her tears seeping through the material of his t-shirt. Just holds her tighter than ever before.

.-

She’s all bubblegum laughter, and butter scotch kisses. Hyde thinks he loves her, thinks he’s always loved her. Hates that it’s taken him so long to tell her as much.

Hates it even more that the first time he’s ever told her so is when the break between them is too raw— too jagged— to be able to mend with pretty platitudes like I love yous. When the thought of him and some random nurse is still seared in her mind, and tales the end of everything he manages to say to her.

Hyde isn’t surprised when she storms out, when she tells him she doesn’t feel the same way. Not anymore. And why should she?

Hyde hates that he let himself fall in love with her. Let himself feel the butterflies in his gut, and the sweat on his palms. Hates that he still thinks she’s the most beautiful, brilliant girl on the face of the planet. Hates that when Kelso tells him that he’s still going after her, all Hyde could think is that she deserves anyone but him, even a prick like Kelso.

Hyde hates that the only girl he’s ever loved is the only girl he’s ever hurt so irrecoverably.

.-

He realizes that he still has a shot with the one girl that’s ever been worth a damn.

He fights for her. She leaves him for the summer, with the question of who she’ll choose still suspended in his every breath

He kisses three other girls that summer, and none of them make him feel like his insides were bursting with something greater than glee. He concludes that the only person who’ll ever make him feel like that is the one person he can never be with again.

Until she tells him she wants to be with him, and he kisses her like the fate of his world depended on it.

“I missed you puddin pop.”

Hyde smiles against Jackie’s lips, swears he’ll never let go of this feeling again.

.-

“I need to know that there’s a future for us.”

It’s the one thing Jackie’s always wanted, and the one thing Hyde’s never been able to give.

Hyde’s seen what marriages do to people. Seen the utter contempt in Edna’s eyes whenever she even so much as looked at Bud. The absolute shit show circus that was the Pinciotti household. The way Pam left her only daughter so callously after finalizing the divorce from the man she married for his money. Hyde knows that the Forman’s are a one in a million kind of deal, and Hyde’s never been one in a million for anything.

Besides Hyde knows Jackie, knows all the intimate parts that string together her person. Knows that she’s a beautiful whirlwind of jutting cheekbones and cunning smirks. Knows that no matter how hard she’d always dreamed of the debonair lifestyle, that she would’ve never been content with him as a partner. A man child with a family history as complicated as Marx’s manifesto, and who’s never been enough for anyone a day in his life.

.-

She goes to Chicago before hearing his answer, (because of course she does). She gets her own segment on the morning show after three and a half months of working there, (because of course she does.) She’s the perfect amalgam of beauty, and wit, all while keeping a finger on the pulse point of popular culture. The camera loves her, and the audience is completely smitten. (Because of course they are.)

Donna tells him all this, and Hyde can do nothing but nod. She’s only confirming what Hyde’s always known was Jackie’s fate. One that’s always been destined for greatness, and had no room for the dirtbag she kissed on her daddy’s pearly white Lincoln when she was sixteen because she was a dumb, starry eyed homecoming queen who thought that she could ever love someone like him.

It hurts like fucking hell, but Hyde knows she’s better off.

But if he keeps the little velvet box still tucked under his favorite Zeppelin shirt in the drawer she use to keep her spare toiletries and tops in for whenever she spent the night— the one that still has a couple of her things that Hyde’s studiously forgotten to remind her were here— well that’s only for him to know.

.-

The Forman’s hold a huge get together for the turn of the decade, with all their family and friends.

Kelso’s playing an intense round of peekaboo with Betsy, while a endeared looking Brooke smiles at the pair of them. Laurie and Fez are off getting handsy upstairs, and Eric and Donna are practically plastered to one another’s sides after so many months apart. Hell even Red and Mrs. Forman are holding hands and sharing fond gazes.

Hyde knows that somewhere in the crowd there’s a pretty, strawberry blonde that Fez invited from work (“because you also need some lovin after Jackie shattered your heart”). He knows that she’s waiting for him to give her the time of day, but knows just as well that he never will.

Hyde opts to grab a beer from the pile, and get away from the lot of love whipped morons he’s surrounded himself with by getting a breath of fresh air in the driveway.

What he doesn’t expect is after ten minutes of contemplating where he’s exactly found himself at twenty years old, a pearly white Lincoln slides up on the curb.

Stunned and a little petrified, he watches as Jackie— still beautiful after almost six months apart, and still haughty looking as all get out with a Gucci bag slung across her shoulder— steps out.

Her pretty, mismatched eyes widen only a fraction once catching sight of him. But she doesn’t demure, walks up to him like it’s nothing. And he thinks that absolute abandon, the way she wore her heart on her sleeve without caring about the consequences, is what proved how much stronger she was over him. How she’s always been the strongest chick he’s ever known.

“Steven.” She speaks his name like a treasure.

“Jackie,” he says like a prayer.

“Thank you for the flowers— all of them, for every show.”

Hyde mentally staggers back, wondering just how she figured it was him that sent them.

“They were Calla Lilies,” she shrugs, seemingly reading his mind. “I always told you that they’d be the flowers for our wedding.”

Hyde takes off his sunglasses, wants to have an unobstructed view of her after so much time apart. Wants to drink her in for as long as possible for when she eventually leaves him again.

“You deserved them. You were always amazing on screen whenever I got to watch you while visiting WB in Chicago.”

She kinks up a brow in silent question.

“We’re thinking of opening a new headquarters there— he wants me to run it— ya know, cause I’m his son and all.”

“Is that so,” the corner’s of her mouth curve up into a small, enchanted smile. One that Hyde returns in earnest.

“Yeah, well that,” he clasps her mitten clad hand with his bare one. Gingerly, questioningly. . 

“And I told him that the only person I want to be around happens to live their, and I’d deal with all of Angie’s craziness if it meant that I could be down there with that one person.”

Her smile stretches into a full blown grin, equal parts beautiful and breathtaking. Making Hyde’s insides feel like he’s just been bathed in sunlight.

He doesn’t feel it when the snow starts to trickle down on them, or hear the bell of the new year ring true. All Hyde can focus on is the way Jackie presses up on the tips of her toes, and how her lips still fit so perfectly against his own. How it still feels like his stomach is doing gymnastic routines.

All Hyde could think is that he’s kissing the girl of his dreams in front of her daddy’s pearly white Lincoln, and how it feels like the start of his world as he knows it.

They part only to catch their breath, pressing foreheads against one another, as if terrified to stay apart for long, less the other person will dissipate right before their eyes.

“Hey Jackie.”

“Hmm?”

“That person I was telling WB about… That was you, believe or not.”

“Shut up you pig,” she punches him in the arm and all he could do is smile, feeling something wonderful bloom somewhere deep in his chest.

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“Yeah, well you love me back!”

“Yeah… Yeah I do.”

 .-

[supposed2bfunny]

It’s a collaboration for Murdoc’s big day!! @trashfrog99 and I worked together to produce this art and story to celebrate our favorite Satanist! Also, I must credit @elapsed-spiral for the concept of Murdoc’s gift being a sort of “Kong 2.0″ (her words, her story Yearz). That chapter was a huge inspiration for what this story would morph into. Rating: T Warnings: None Murdoc’s grand plan to sleep until approximately four in the afternoon was dashed by the tentative knock on his door around lunchtime. “Boss?” Ace’s voice called, “you up?” He fumbled around blindly until he found a bottle opener on his bedside table and threw it at the door to communicate his annoyance. “I am now,” he growled, sitting up and smoothing his disheveled bedhead as best he could. “Give us a tic, you twat, I’m not decent.” After the pre-birthday celebration that he’d had with Stu, that was a wild understatement. The cap to a bottle of lube and a veritable parade of condom wrappers scattered across the floor as he threw his bed sheets aside and groped around for something to wear. A full two minutes later, he was zipping up a pair of jeans and trying to sort out his rattiest Prince tee-shirt, which seemed determined to remain inside out. “Yeah, what do you want at the ass-crack of dawn anyway?” he asked, opening the door and half-expecting Ace to have vacated already. But the American stood there, sunglasses hanging from the neck of his tee and a smile on his boney face. “Happy birthday, bossman!” he replied, punching Murdoc’s shoulder (he was strong for such a scrawny guy; it hurt). “Fifty-three, bet you never expected to make it that far, huh?” “That’ putting it mildly,” he responded, but he smiled, and he knew that of all people, Ace felt no discomfort with the cryptic humor. “Now can I go back to sleep, or did you want to sing that insipid birthday song to me?” “Actually,” Ace ducked forward to look over Murdoc’s shoulder, then back the way that he had come up the stairs to make sure they were alone. “I wanted to give you a little something. Something the rest of the crew might not appreciate too much, if you catch my drift.” “Gang stuff?” Murdoc asked, perking up and feeling awake for the first time. “Is it drugs?” “No!” the younger man snorted. “You know I don’t do that shit no more. Now hold out your hand.” Murdoc agreed, expression suspicious as Ace reached into his back pocket. A moment later, he dropped something cool and heavy into the bassist’s palm. He withdrew his hand and Murdoc’s eyes widened in amazement. “Brass knuckles? The Gentle Green Giant owns a pair of brass knuckles?” “Owned. Want you to have ‘em, boss.” Murdoc slipped them on, impressed at their weight. He’d never worn a pair before, though he’d known plenty of people in his life who’d owned them between his drug-filled youth and many days in prison. “You never used these,” he accused. “Same as your switchblade. It’s all for show.” “Used ‘em exactly once, actually,” he corrected. “Back when I had my crew in Townsville, some junkie came after one of my guys, Lil Arturo. And little Artie was just a kid, see? I had to protect him. I panicked: punched the guy once, twice, saw blood, ran,” he pushed his long black hair behind his ears. “You know I was never really much of a fighter. But these have been used to protect family, and that’s why I want you to have ‘em. After that experience is when I decided to quit the gang shit and pursue music more seriously. And opening for Gorillaz? That was my first official gig that landed me some cash so’z I could turn my life around.” He took a deep breath and pointed at the brass knuckles. “Those’re significant to me. And all you’ve done to let me stay with you guys, even after you came back from the slammer, well…it’s been significant to me too…” Murdoc could see that Ace was becoming emotional, and though there was a day where he would have laughed at the younger man, he instead placed a hand on his shoulder. “Pretty cool gift, I must admit. Not as great as some blow, but it’ll do.” “They’re not for violence, got it?” Ace looked at him seriously. “They’re symbolic. Using those things changed me, set the course of my life in a new direction!” “Right, right, great life changes and all that, got it, Ace,” he looked into the younger man’s eyes. “You’re uh, you’re all right. For a ‘guido’.” “I’m the one who taught you that word!” Ace snapped, misty eyes suddenly fiery with anger. “You don’t get to call me that! That’s practically a slur, you know!” “Right, riiight, if this little heart-to-heart is over,” he replied, “I’m going to go get some breakfast.” “It’s past noon. That’s lunch, you stupid old man.” “Youth is wasted on the young,” he replied, but he made sure that Ace saw him slip the brass knuckles into his pocket, a new treasure to keep close at all times. In the kitchen he was greeted first by the strong smell of frying bacon, and then by Russel standing at the stove, spatula in hand. “You’re normally up earlier’n this, Russ,” Murdoc commented, eyeing the sizzling bacon with interest. “Everything all right?” “I’ve been up, Muds. This is for you.” “What? A man turns fifty-three and suddenly everyone learns how they should have been treating him all along, huh? I quite like this worship.” “Don’t push your luck. But there’s beans in the microwave; get those out and grab a plate.” “Russel, I could kiss you.” “I can smell your breath from over here, man; you’d better not even think about it.” Murdoc cackled and did as he was told, fetching a plate and finding a Pyrex container of baked beans warmed in the microwave for him. As he spooned some onto his plate, Russel came over with the frying pan, offering him several slices of one of his favorite foods. “Bon appétit.” “Now you wouldn’t happen to have gone the extra step and made—” Russel turned back to the countertop and grabbed two mugs of coffee, sliding one over to the bassist. It was his favorite mug no less: one that had been sent to Stu from someone alleging to be his child, a tired ‘World’s Best Dad’ print across it either a deluded or a very ironic statement. They’d never determined which. While Stu had begged to throw it out, Murdoc had adopted it with glee, smirking every time the singer glared at him for using it. The drummer had a cup himself as well, and they each took a sip, nodding in approval at the taste. Russel had always been of the philosophy that no one should have to eat a meal alone, so he kept the bassist company as he ate, a comfortable silence falling, interrupted only by the sound of silverware scraping the porcelain plate. “We’re getting old,” Russel finally said, watching Murdoc push his plate away with finality although he hadn’t cleared it. His appetite, which had never been big, was even smaller these days. “Yeah, well, not like we’re slowing down,” he countered. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Not when there’s still so much left to do. I mean, you’ve got that bloody non-profit for immigrant kids who want to learn tambourine or whatever.” He pulled a face. “Crass, Murdoc, very crass. But yeah, I have a lot of work cut out for me with the Kids with Drums foundation. I was also thinking that we still have a lot more music to create.” Murdoc paused, clicking his teeth against the ceramic rim of the mug. It was the first time that Russel had been the one to propose more music. “You thinking another album, big boy? Gorillaz or…solo?” Russel smiled enigmatically. “I’m thinking sky’s the limit. But hey, I have a lot to do before tonight’s big dinner, so I’ll leave you to your coffee.” He rapped his knuckles against the table and pushed himself up to leave. “Oi, Russ?” He paused, mid-stride. “Yeah?” Murdoc poked at the remaining beans on his plate with a fork, watching them slide through bacon grease. “You’re the only one in this bloody house who isn’t afraid to fry this shit to a crisp. Well done.” The drummer shook his head. “See you later, asshole.” Once he’d finished his coffee, the bassist carried his dishes to the sink, looking out the small window and into the backyard. First Ace talking about the past and how he’d changed careers, then Russel being all vague about making new music. It felt like they were giving him subtle warnings of change to come, and the bassist felt apprehension begin to coil in his gut. They were offering clues to him, clues that seemed to suggest change. He wasn’t ready to retire yet, and it wasn’t until he dropped his mug into the sink, causing a harsh clatter, that he realized his hands had begun to shake. “Snap out of if Niccals,” he muttered. He was jumping to conclusions, that was all. He hoped. He double checked that the mug had not cracked, and, satisfied, left the dirty dishes for someone else to take care of. He made his way to the screen door in the back of their house, hoping a smoke would calm his nerves. Before he could make it outside, a pair of arms wrapped around his middle from behind and he jumped slightly. “Happy birthday, Dad.” “I appreciate the sentiment, luv, but you only call me that about twice a year.” “Christmas and birthdays, right?” The guitarist asked, squeezing him just slightly, reminding him that in spite of her small stature, she was strong enough to snap him in half if she wanted to. “Proper submarine daughter you are, popping up to show face then disappearing again for six months. Relax, I haven’t written you out of the inheritance yet.” She laughed and turned him around to hug him properly. “Your breath stinks.” “So I’ve been told,” he said with a shrug. “If you think I’m going to brush my teeth on my birthday you’ve got another thing coming. Live with it.” She pretended to gag, but grabbed his wrist, placing something small and metal in it with a simple “here’s your gift.” He looked down to see a house key and again, a wave of nervous energy hit him. “You changed the locks?” he looked at her. “Noods, what happened? Everything okay?” “I can’t tell you all the details; it’s not my story to tell,” she replied, patting his arm. “But don’t worry. I promise you’ll be happy when you hear the whole story. Just don’t lose this key, okay? I have no patience for you tapping on windows asking me to let you in at four in the morning after a night of revelry.” “That only happened once or twice!” he cried in indignation. “Once or twice that you can remember,” she corrected, crossing her arms over her chest. “Happened way more than that. Lucky for you, I forgive you for disturbing my beauty sleep.” “Very generous of you,” he said, pulling out a pack of Lucky Lungs and placing one between his lips, offering her one as well. He really didn’t love that she smoked, but he knew there was no stopping Noodle from doing what she wanted to do. “I’m good,” she replied, holding up a hand. “Care for some company, or was this Murdoc Meditation Hour?” “Was actually looking to sort my thoughts out if it’s all the same to you,” he answered, nodding towards the door. No need to risk slipping up and showing the poor girl how unsettled he was on a day that was supposed to be happy. “Seems that everything is starting to change, have you noticed?” “Change doesn’t have to be bad, Murdoc. Issun saki wa yami. You’ve got the support: whatever comes your way, it will be kind.” “No idea what you just said, but it sounds nice. Thanks, pet.” “Looking forward to dinner tonight,” she said brightly, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Don’t make yourself sick with cancer sticks: the restaurant is supposed to have amazing desserts.” “I don’t—” “Desserts so good even you will like them!” she corrected herself as she headed back upstairs, presumably to find her partner in crime, Ace. Murdoc sighed and headed outside, enjoying the warmth as the sun broke free from the clouds for a moment. He took a seat on one of the aged folding chairs on the patio, lighting his cigarette and trying to control his thoughts. Something was coming, and he was terrified. Even more upsetting than the promise of unwelcome change however was the fact that he hadn’t once been able to speak the words he wanted to say. To Ace, to Russel, to Noodle. They’d all spent time with him, they’d all been so kind. This time last year, he’d been certain that his moments of fame had ended. Alone in prison and with no contact from his mates, he’d listened despondently as news came through that Gorillaz were producing a new album without him, and he’d smuggled in enough technology to be able to watch in real time as many fans took to social media, celebrating the band’s new bassist and suggesting it was a new era for Gorillaz. A better era. Murdoc shuddered at the memory of his cot in prison, of the time spent reflecting on how quickly the world seemed to forget about him. He’d thought frequently of his father, who had died alone and miserable in his home in Stoke, no one to mourn him, no one to express sympathy for his passing. He’d been so certain that he was destined for the same fate, and that he’d been delusional to hope for a better outcome. Murdoc stubbed out his first cigarette, having smoked it down in record speed. He lit a new one, eyes fixed on the grass sprouting up between cracks in the patio. Stop it, he willed himself. Stop working yourself up. You have to put on a show for the others in a couple of hours. For the love of Satan get it together! The sound of the screen door shuttering open and closed startled him from his thoughts, and he heard someone approaching him. He recognized the ungainly gait by sound alone instantly and searched his anxiety-rattled brain for a dry comment to make. Stuart beat him to it, singing softly, looking ahead at the backyard rather than at his boyfriend. “Why you rolling waves over me now, that’s all I need, dreaming,
waiting on a lover, come find me, be forgiven.” Of course. That bloody song. The most overt declaration of love that the singer had ever offered him, the one that had signaled to Murdoc that their relationship was not irreparable. A fucking beacon of hope when he’d been at such a low point in prison. The bassist drew his lower lip between his teeth and stared doggedly ahead, not wanting to break down although he felt his walls crumbling under the soothing sound of his lover’s voice. “I’ll be a regular guy for you, I never said I’d do that,
why you looking so beautiful to me now when you’re so sad?” Stu turned to look at him as he sang, and although he still didn’t look at the singer, Murdoc felt his eyes grow damp, felt the wetness hanging on his lower lashes, threatening to spill over his cheek. Pathetic. “I will always think about you.
That’s why I’m calling you back
on my way through. I wanna stay with you for a long time, I wanna be your stone, love. 
I wanna see it lay in your eyes when I’m leaving with your love. I will always think about you.
That’s why I’m calling you back
on my way through.” Murdoc sighed, exhaled gray smoke through his nostrils. This man was going to be the death of him, really. He was simply too perfect. “Why you looking sad to me now, on the day of your birth, luv?” he asked, wording it so he could maintain his cadence. “Enough with the damn singing mate.” He grit out, relieved when his voice didn’t crack or waver. “Seriously, answer the question.” Stu replied. “What can I say? Your voice is so angelic it moves me to tears every time.” “Bullshit,” Stuart reached over and plucked the cigarette from between his fingers, taking a puff for himself. “Muds, you were fine this morning. What’s wrong?” The bassist took a deep breath and blinked rapidly until he felt certain he wasn’t going to loose any tears. “Just, feel like a lot is happening these days. Between you and me, I think Ace is getting ready to move on from the band.” Stuart handed him back his cigarette and furrowed his brow. “That makes no sense. He’s signed a contract to remain a studio musician for us for the next few years. I think he’s happy here. Don’t think he’s going to be leaving anytime soon.” The bassist shrugged. “Just a sneaking suspicion. He opened up a bit to me this morning and was being extra nice. And Russel too!” The singer actually snorted at that. “You think Russ is leaving too? What, he and Ace gonna start a new band?” “Mate, I don’t know, but he was being all friendly and chatty with me too. The man is up to something. These Americans, I swear to Satan they’re hard to understand.” “That’s why you were out here sulking? You’re afraid we’re all drifting apart?” The younger man took his boyfriend’s hand, laced their fingers together in the way that always made Murdoc melt a little. “I think you’re just assuming the worst.” “Even Noodle was acting off. She gave me a new house key. You know anything about that, by the way? Why’d she have to have our locks changed?” “She didn’t change the locks on the door.” “Then why this key?!” he snapped, reaching into his pocket and showing it to the singer. Stu looked at it, then looked at his high-strung bandmate. “Muds, why don’t you come inside?” he suggested. “Sure you don’t want to break up with me first, just to keep things fresh?” “Don’t joke like that,” he said sternly, standing up and offering his hand out to the older man, who took it, allowing himself to be pulled up and into a hug. “Murdoc, babe. It’s okay.” “I’m just mental, aren’t I?” he asked. “I feel like a bloody spring about to snap and I don’t know why!” “I think there’s reasons why you might be upset,” the singer argued. “You’ve got a lot of bad memories from last summer. We all know how susceptible you are to PTSD. Are you nervous because this time last year you were alone?” The connection made perfect sense as soon as the singer said it, and Murdoc felt like an ass instantly. “That’s it!” he practically shouted at the poor singer. “That’s why I’ve been so off. My brain is doing that fucking thing that it does. Shit, I’m such a mess!” “Hey, I’ve told you to be kinder to yourself,” the taller man chastised. He had a habit of talking like a therapist sometimes, the result of all the therapy sessions he’d attended. At first it had been annoying, but sometimes Murdoc secretly felt safe in the knowledge that Stu could help him navigate his mind a little bit. “You’re not a mess. You’ve had a tough year. That’s part of why we’re going to celebrate tonight,” he paused to kiss Murdoc with no warning, and the bassist gasped against his mouth in shock. “Gonna spoil you rotten,” he promised gently. “I…” Emotion was flooding through Murdoc’s system once again, but this time, he didn’t feel as panicked. He needed to speak, needed to say what he’d been meaning to say all day. “Oi, old man,” Stu interrupted him, “have I told you today that I love you? Because I do, you know. More and more every day.” “Thank you,” Murdoc garbled. It was somewhere between a prayer and a sob. “Thank you, Stu.” “Of course,” he murmured, stroking the older man’s bangs out of his eyes. “Murdoc. Let’s go inside now, okay?” The bassist allowed himself to be led back inside, his hand gripping the singer’s so tight it had to hurt a little, but Stu didn’t complain. In the living room, he found the other three, Noodle and Ace both splayed out on the couch, occasionally holding up their phones to show the other memes. Russel sat back in his recliner, smiling when the two came in. “There’s the birthday boy.” “All hail,” Ace commented without looking up from his phone. “Har har,” Murdoc responded. “So let’s cut to the chase: is it terminal? Will I live, doctors?” He tried to keep his voice light as he joked, but his hands had begun to shake again, and he could feel Stu’s fingers tighten around his even more, a silent I’m here. “Yeah, we’ve got a big surprise for you,” Noodle said, sitting up straight. “In case you were too dumb to figure it out, the key I gave you isn’t for this house.” “It’s for our new one,” Stu said, letting go of Murdoc’s hand so he could instead wrap an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. “Our what now?” “Rumor has it that back around 2007, Kong Studios burned down under ‘mysterious circumstances,’” Russel said. “And knowing a thing or two about criminal activity, I can confirm that that’s code for arson,” Ace quipped. “You cashed in on the insurance money and produced an album,” Noodle continued coolly, and Murdoc tensed at the allusion to Plastic Beach. “And due to its history of zombie invasions, shitty weather, and a whole lot of burned garbage left after Kong was melted down, local governance has had an unbelievably hard time selling that chunk of land that you abandoned.” “So recently, I had this idea, and I think you’re smart enough to fill in the rest.” Stu finished, pressing a kiss to his temple. Everything clicked, and a shiver of excitement ran up Murdoc’s spine. “You mean to tell me you’ve bought the property? The hill in Essex? It’s ours?” “Oh Murdoc, don’t sell me short,” the singer said with a pout. “Not just the land. I spoke to EMI. Well, they want me to call them Parlophone, but it’s EMI, right? They wouldn’t grant me a pence without some sort of contract, so I’ve agreed to their terms. Something in the ballpark of six tours and two albums over the next eight years or something. Pretty manageable by our standards, frankly. Some merch, here and there. I’ll leave that up mostly to Noodle and Ace since they know what the kids like.” “EMI gave us money for this?” Murdoc clarified, feeling dizzy with the news. “Murdoc, darling, they’ve built us a new studio,” he said gently. “We’re going back to England, and we’re going to do amazing things there.” “That key I gave you,” Noodle said. “It’s for our new home. Just like at Kong. It’ll be our living space as well as our music space. We need to make up for the year we lost without you and El Diablo.” “Holy shit…” he reached into his pocket for his Lucky Lungs, only to realize that he’d left them in the backyard. With nothing for his hands to do he could only tremble, too overwhelmed to meet his bandmates’ eyes. “This is too good to be true.” “It’s true,” Stu promised, hugging him tight, doing all he could to comfort him physically. “Happy Birthday, Murdoc. Ready to start the next phase of our lives together?” “Y-yeah, alright,” he agreed, voice watery. “We’re going to get it right this time,” the singer assured. “We’re gonna go back to where it all began.” “We’re ready to crash the music scene with you once again, boss,” Ace promised. “I’ll be there to help out, but this band needs their number one bassist back.” “The goal is to move back by the end of the summer as long as you’re okay with it,” Russel explained. “That way you have time to pack and say goodbyes. And maybe start writing down new ideas so we can hit the ground running.” “Are you happy?” Noodle asked, seeing the bassist’s tense body language. “Yes,” he said quickly. “I think he’s a little overwhelmed,” Stu explained, stroking the older man’s hair. “Give us a minute?” “We were here first—” Ace started, but Noodle smacked his arm and they both rose to leave the house. “Fine, fine! We’ll go. By the way, check out Twitter and Insta, Muds. Hundreds of hits from fans drawing you in your skivvies with cake. It’s hilarious!” “We’ll be back in a few hours to get ready for the dinner reservation,” Noodle promised, shoving the American out the front door and blowing a kiss. “I’m gonna take a walk around the block,” Russel said, patting the bassist’s shoulder as he passed them. “Start mentally preparing to say goodbye to America again.” The front door clattered and the two were left alone, Stu’s hand still smoothing the bassist’s hair as Murdoc took deep breaths to keep himself calm. “Too much?” The singer asked once he was sure they had privacy. “No! This is…this was all…” Murdoc waved his hands, lost for words. “I can’t understand why you lot would do all this for me.” “I mean, it’s really for the whole band,” Stu reasoned. “We wanted it to be a surprise for you though. Because you’re a vital part of the band, and we want you to know that. I know you doubted it, even if you don’t ever admit that out loud. I hope this proves how serious we are about keeping you in Gorillaz, Muds. The reason they were all so nice to you on your birthday…it’s because they all care about you, same as me.” The older man smiled up at him. “I guess I should have thought of that,” he admitted quietly. “But! I can’t believe we get to go back to the place that started it all. Out of the ashes, Gorillaz will rise again like a bloody phoenix!” “Like from Harry Potter?” He was able to laugh now, leaning up to kiss Stu in all his quirky glory. “I’m ready to start again, do it right this time. With my soul mate.” The singer’s cheeks turned pink instantly. “I love when you call me that.” “Yeah,” he stole another kiss. “I know.” “Hey, give me one more! That was too fast!” So Murdoc smiled, wrapping his arms around the singer’s waist and pulling him in for a slower, deeper kiss. “It’s like the song goes,” Stu whispered, arms wrapping around the bassist’s shoulders. “I’m calling you back.” “But what came first, your grand plan to rebuild Kong, or Souk Eye?” They both laughed, giddy with the prospect of a fresh start, of more music. Of more time to learn to say the things they’d been feeling for many, many years.

[chiseler]

All the World’s a Stage

In 1988, a socio-linguist at the university of Pennsylvania posted a note on the departmental bulletin board announcing she had moved her late husband’s personal library into an unused office. Anyone who wanted any of the books should feel free to take them. Her husband had been the chair of Penn’s sociology department. They’d married in 1981, and he died the following year at age sixty. Normally you’d expect the books and papers to be donated to some library to assist future researchers, but she’d recently remarried, so I guess she either wanted to get rid of any reminders of her previous husband, or simply needed the space.

At the time my then-wife was a grad student in Penn’s linguistics department, and told me about the announcement when she got home that afternoon.

Well, had this professor’s dead husband been any plain, boring old sociologist, I wouldn’t have thought much about it, but given her dead husband was Erving Goffman, I immediately began gathering all the boxes and bags I could find. That night around ten, when she was certain the department would be pretty empty, my then-wife and I snuck back to Penn under cover of darkness and I absconded with Erving Goffman’s personal library. Didn’t even look at titles—just grabbed up armloads of books and tossed them into boxes to carry away.

As I began sorting through them in the following days, I of course discovered the expected sociology, anthropology and psychology textbooks, anthologies and journals, as well as first editions of all of Goffman’s own books, each featuring his identifying signature (in pencil) in the upper right hand corner of the title page. But those didn’t make up the bulk of my haul.

There were Catholic marriage manuals from the Fifties, dozens of volumes (both academic and popular) about sexual deviance, a whole bunch of books about juvenile delinquency with titles like Wayward Youth and The Violent Gang, several issues of Corrections (a quarterly journal aimed at prison wardens), a lot of original crime pulps from the Forties and Fifties, avant-garde literary novels, a medical book about skin diseases, some books about religious cults (particularly Jim Jones’ Peoples Temple), a first edition of Michael Lesy’s Wisconsin Death Trip, and So many other unexpected gems. It was, as I’d hoped, an oddball collection that offered a bit of insight into Goffman’s work and thinking.

Erving Goffman was born in Alberta, Canada in 1922. After entering college as a chemistry major, he eventually got his BA in sociology in 1948, and began his graduate studies at The university of Chicago.

In 1952 he married Angelica Choate, a woman with a history of mental illness, and they had a son. The following year he received his PHD from Chicago. His thesis concerned public interactions and rituals among the residents of one of the Shetland Islands off the coast of Scotland. Afterward, he took a job with the National Institute for Mental Health in Bethesda, Maryland. His first book, The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life, which evolved out of his thesis, came out in 1956, and his second, Asylums, which resulted from his work at N.I,M.H., was released five years later. In 1958 he took a teaching position at UC-Berkeley, and was soon promoted to full professor. His wife committed suicide in 1964, and in 1968 he joined the faculty of the University of Pennsylvania as the chair of the sociology department, a post he would hold until his death in 1982.

Citing intellectual influences from anthropology and psychology as well as sociology, Goffman was nevertheless a maverick. Instead of controlled clinical studies and statistical analysis, Goffman based his work on careful close observation of real human interactions in public places,. Instead of focusing on the behaviors of large, faceless groups like sports fans, student movements or factory workers, he concentrated on the tiny details of face-to-face encounters, the gestures, language and behavior of individuals interacting with one another or within a larger institutional framework. Instead of citing previous academic papers to support his claims, he’d more often use quotes from literary sources, letters, or interviews. He created a body of work around those banal, microcosmic day-two-day experiences which had been all but ignored by sociologists up to that point. After his death he was considered one of the most important and influential sociologists of the twentieth century.

Without getting into all the complexities and interpretations of Goffman’s various theories (despite his radical subjective approach, he was still an academic after all), let me lay out simpleminded thumbnails of the two core ideas at the heart of his work.

Taking a cue from both Freud and Shakespeare, he employed theatrical terminology to argue that whenever we step out into public, we are all essentially actors on a stage. We wear masks, we take on certain behaviors and attitudes that differ wildly from the characters we are when we’re at home. All our actions in public, he claimed, are social performances designed (we hope) to present a certain image of ourselves to the world at large. The idea of course has been around in literature for centuries, but Goffman was the first to seriously apply it in broad strokes to sociology.

His other, and related, fundamental idea was termed frame analysis, the idea being that we perceive each social encounter—running into that creepy guy on the train again, say, or arguing with the checkout clerk at the supermarket about the quality of their potatoes—as something isolated and contained, a picture within a frame, or a movie still.

He used those two models to study day-to-day life in mental institutions and prisons, note the emergence of Texas businessmen adopting white cowboy hats as a standard part of their attire, analyze workplace interactions and the complicated rituals we go through when we run into someone we sort-of know on the sidewalk.

I first read Goffman in college when his 1964 book, Stigma: Notes on the Management of Spoiled Identity, was used in a postmodern political science course I was taking. In the slim volume, Goffman studied the conflicts and prejudices ex-cons, mental patients, cripples, the deformed and other social outcasts encountered when they stepped out into public, as well as the assorted codes and tricks they used to pass for normal. When passing was possible, anyway. At the time I was smitten with the book and these tales of outsiders, being a deliberately constructed outsider myself (though as a nihilistic cigar-smoking petty criminal punk rock kid, I had no interest in passing for normal). I was also struck to read a serious sociological study that cited Nathaniel West’s Miss Lonelyhearts—my favorite novel at the time—as supporting evidence.

Thirty-five years later, and after having read all of Goffman’s other major works, I returned to Stigma again, but with a different perspective. Although my youthful Romantic notions about social outcasts still lingered, by that time I’d become a bona-fide and inescapable social outcast myself, tapping around New York with a red and white cane.

Goffman spent a good deal of the book focused on the daily issues faced by the blind, but in 1985 those weren’t the outsiders who interested me. Now that I was one of them myself, I must say I was amazed and impressed by the accuracy of Goffman’s observations. He pointed out any number of things that have always been ignored by others who’ve written about the blind. Like those others, he notes that Normals, accepting the myth that our other senses become heightened after the loss of our sight, believe us to have superpowers of some kind. (For the record, I never dissuade people of this silly notion.) But Goffman took it one step further, noting that to Normals, a blindo accomplishing something, well, normal—like lighting a cigarette—is taken to be some kind of superhuman achievement, and evidence of powers they can barely begin to fathom.

(Ironically, he writes in Asylums that the process of socializing mental patients is a matter of turning them into dull, unobtrusive and nearly invisible individuals. Those are good citizens.)

Elsewhere in Stigma Goffman also points out—and you cannot believe how commonplace this is—that Normals, believing us to have some deep insights into life and the world, feel compelled, uninvited and without warning, to stop the blind on the street or at the supermarket to share with them their darkest secrets, medical concerns and personal problems as if we’d known them all our lives. He also observed the tendency for Normals to treat us not only like we’re blind, but deaf and lame as well, yelling in our ears and insisting on helping us out of chairs.

Ah, but one thing he brought up, which I’ve never seen anyone else mention before, is the fate awaiting those blindos (or cripples of any kind) who actually accomplish something like writing a book. It doesn’t matter if the book had absolutely nothing to do with being a cripple. I’ve published eleven books to date, and only two of them even mention blindness. It doesn’t matter. If a cripple makes something of him or herself, that cripple then becomes a lifelong representative of that entire class of stigmatized individuals, at least in mainstream eyes. From that point onward he or she will always be not only “that Blind Writer” or “that Legless Architect,” but a spokesperson on any issues pertaining to their particular disability. I was published long before I developed that creepy blind stare, but if I approach a mainstream publication nowadays, the only things they’ll let me write about are cripple issues. Every now and again if I need the check, I’ll, yes, put on the mask and play the role. But I’m bored to death with cripple issues, which is why whenever possible I neglect to mention to would-be editors that I’m blind. And I guess that only supports Goffman’s overall thesis, right?

Well, anyway, a series of four floods in my last apartment completely wiped out my prized Goffman library (as well as my prized novelization collection), so in retrospect I guess that professor at Penn probably would have been better off donating them to the special collections department of some library.

by Jim Knipfel

[amoxgirl]

Legacies

 1818 – Texas Territories

Dean glanced down at the bullet hole that graced his chest and wondered how it had all gone so wrong. How in the space of one day had the world decided to fuck him over, and as blood pooled hard fast from the chest wound, he knew that due to his past this might be the way he deserved to go out but after everything recently he thought that just maybe….. but he should have known better, should have expected less.  “Sorry lawman but I ain’t ready for the hangman’s noose just yet!” Glancing back up to Baron Corbin in a stunned shock effect Dean felt his energy fleeting from his body, but he still could move- abite a little, so raising his six shooter to hip level he fired.

Watching as Corbin blinked and glanced down at his own chest in total amazement that a dying man had bother to shoot him let alone succeed in hitting him, Corbin’s lips moved up and down once or twice before- and on his dying breath, “never fucking trust a gunslinger turned lawman! Can’t even fucking dye without..” and before he finished his words he fell to his knees then slumped forward dead. Dean smiled as he dropped his gun and placed a hand over his own wound and muttered, “I hope your hold the door open for me in hell you sick sonofabitch!”

Taking a few steps forward Dean felt his body sway and he knew the fall was imminent and all he wanted was not to die in the middle of the fucking street like a piece of fucking trash. And yet he felt his legs give out and knew he would fall onto the dirt and die like scum like himself should…. But the fall never came, instead he felt a big strong-arm wrap around his waist that stop his descent.

Cocking his head to the side Dean could only laugh weakly at his tanned island friend, “Leakee what…” his words were cut off by a cough that had him spitting up blood and had his head tilting sideways. The other man grabbed his arm and threw it over his shoulders and more or less carried him off the street. “Your wife sent me… she went into labor! Doctor B is with her, but she is calling for you!”

Closing his eyes in pain he knew that he couldn’t go to her, no Renee couldn’t handle giving birth and watching him die at the same time. Spitting out more blood after another coughing fit he snapped tiredly at the only friend- aside from his wife he had. “Get me to jailhouse and then go back to her, Le – tell her I went after Corbin.” Here they were at the jailhouse door and Leakee pushed it open hard and snapped, “you want me to lie to her- while she is giving birth? What kind of asshole do you take me for brother?”

Using the last bit of his dying strength he grabbed the other man and snapped, “your do as I say damnit! I am a dead man; you and I both know it- she needs to focus on the baby not a dying man!” The blood started to pump faster from his wound and as the world started to dim he for the first time in his life prayed to God he didn’t necessity believe:

Please don’t let my child live the way I did….  If I could redo it all over again…

And with that his world turned black!

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Leakee simply froze when he noticed his blood brothers body go slack and limp, he had in fact seen dead men before- had in fact caused a lot of men to die, being a Caribbean pirate since his youth had made him hard to the aspect of death but when he had met a gunslinger over a decade past back- one that was actually chasing down his former crew a crew that had turned on him and had left him for dead, the sea lost its appeal for him. Along with killing innocent seamen.

They had both ran down each and every ex crew member of Dean’s old gang. The last member had taken years to find, he had been Dean’s second- the one he trusted the most, and they had found the sonofabitch in the Texas Territories, along with the man kid sister.

The bastard had been using the kid to make side money in some of the brothels and kept her half beaten when she protested to much or loudly. But as Renee had gotten older she had started to stand up for herself, then he and Dean had found them. Dean had taken one look at the battered young woman and vowed to keep her safe from that point onward.

Now here six years later Joshua Young was dead, Renee- the kid sister, laid giving birth to a child that belonged to the man whom she had entrusted her heart and soul to, a man that now laid dead at his feet.

Renee Ambrose would be a mother before this night was done…. Sighing Leakee bent down on his knees and laid his head against his brothers chest and knew that this would be the best and worst night of her life.

Mother to Widow all in the same day!

Muttering, “And I was just starting to believe that you were real!” The curse was the first and last prayer he ever gave.

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1825 Texas Territories

Leakee watched as a blonde-haired boy came running up to him in pure delight, his blue eyes dancing. Turning to close the jailhouse door, an amazement that the people in BlackSalt had elected him as their new Sheriff still confused him but at the same time humbled him.

“Lepela…” smiling as Liam came to a stop in front of him and bounced excitedly, “did you know Lepela?” Smiling, a little sadly but still smiling Leakee asked, “ did I know what?” The boy jumped up once more and threw the words out, “Mamma is going to marry Ranger Moxley! Laughing Leakee remembered when he had first heard about the group of twelve men that formed up a group calling themselves the ‘Texas Rangers’ and over two years later they were the backup plan for every Sheriff who had an outlaw they couldn’t pin down.

For him, it had been the gang calling themselves the ‘New Day’- just a three-man posse but they had left countless bodies in their wake. After they had wounded him and killed his deputy he had sent out the bulletin to the Rangers. And David Moxley had answered- much to his displeasure when he noticed that the other man’s eye lingered on Renee Ambrose a little bit longer than it should. But in the end, his own newly minted wife- and Italian girl by the name of Alessia (who had stumbled into BlackSalt as their new school teacher) had told him to keep his nose out of Renee’s business.

After two years of the Ranger coming to and fro Leakee had became accustom to seeing the other lawman in his town. Now even yet here he was grinning at the thought of the other man stepping up and into the life that should have been his brothers.

Waving to Renee as she called Liam back to her, with David Moxley at her side Leakee watched with sad eyes as Liam took off in a dead run and ran into the arms of the man that was taking over Renee’s life.

Swallowing hard he closed his eyes, “hope this is what you wanted brother cause I can’t stop it!”

And with that the wind blew and seemed to pat his back in silent thanks.

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1985 Appalachian Mountain Territories

At sixteen Diana Moxley thought she would never be giving birth before she graduate high school. She never thought that piece the of trash that was her ex would run away once she told him she was pregnant and that her getting pregnant would cause her parents to divorce.

But here she was, her own mother holding her hand trying to coach her through the labor pains. It was more painful than anything she had ever experienced before and a pain she hoped she never felt again.

After hours of pain… of crying, the Doctor finally smiled at her and told her to push hard one more time. Mustarding up all the energy she had left she pushed and didn’t stop until she felt something slip from her body. Moments later there loud cries in the form of her baby having their nose and throat cleared.

Suddenly before she could adjust herself the nurse laid a crying baby onto her chest and whispered, “Congratulations Diana… what’s his name?” Arms coming up to hold the crying boy to her she smiled and wiped the sweat covering her face and said, “Jonathan his name is Jonathan Dean Moxley!”

And she silent prayed a silent thank you to whoever had decided to give her such a precious gift.

Her mom stirred beside her and remarked, “Dean? That reminds me a story my grandmother used to tell… she said it came from her grandmother.” Blinking in surprise Diana let the nurse take Jon away to finish cleaning him and asked, “really? What about  it?” Here her mom laughed and started the story, “It started back in the early 1800’s your,” she stopped and waved a hand absently, “how many great grandfathers it is was- was a gunslinger that turned into a Sheriff somewhere in Texas after he killed off his old gang…”

Diana listened closely with open amazement and wonder, at the end of the story her mom smiled, “Then your great grandmother married a Texas Ranger by the name of Moxley. I thought it was a cute love story when I was little!’

Blinking she asked, “Is that why we changed our names back to your maiden name?” Here her mother shook her head and stated, “no but that another story for a different time and place. Now feed your son.”

Glancing down at her son Diana saw he was in turn watching her, his blue eyes sleepy and hungry at the same time. Giggling as she slipped the hospital gown free from her shoulder she held Jon so he could latch onto her offered nipple. Her mom hummed and asked, “so JD for a nick name?”

Laughing as Jon began to suckle Diana gave her mother an evil eye, “no way mom- either pick Jon or Dean!”

Her mom pouted and then let her fingers tickle her feasting grandson, “Dean it is….”

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And so, this begins the untold stories in my Birthright Universe….

A universe where the modern world meets old west add in a twist of fantasy and this is going to be an odd ride.

Like it? Hate it? Should I continue it? Let me know

[bbclesmis]

Lily Collins Is An Utterly Captivating Fantine

Actor Lily Collins tried her best to not lose herself in the devastating role of Les Misérables‘ Fantine. Collins explains how she stayed grounded on set, where she found inspiration for her iconic tragic heroine and why her onscreen injury was all-too painfully real.

Download and subscribe on: iTunes | Stitcher| RadioPublic

Transcript:

Jace Lacob: I’m Jace Lacob, and you’re listening to MASTERPIECE Studio.

After losing her lover, her daughter, and her job, the young Fantine has finally died — after learning that her savior, Monsieur le Maire, is in fact the fugitive convict, Jean Valjean. It’s a gruesome death for a character whose life was full of extremes. From a beautiful lakeside romance to the violence of the urban sex trade, Fantine has seen the bright promise of her young life extinguished by the harsh realities of mid-19th century France.

CLIP

Fantine: You see this man here? You see this monster here that you call Monsieur le Maire? It’s all his fault! He’s supposed to be so good, what did he do? He threw me out on the street and you know why? Because I tried to care for my little girl. Monster of a Mayor!

Jace: Actor Lily Collins turned to the original novel’s text as a source for character development. And she was thrilled to find that Andrew Davies’ script for Les Misérables gave the usually narrowly-defined Fantine room to grow, and even thrive, in this recent adaptation.

Lily Collins: It was a welcome to me having known where she ends up to be able to have as much fun at the beginning….you know where things are headed and it makes you want for her the best more than you ever have because you know that things are just gonna get awful quite soon.

Jace: Collins takes us inside her stunning transformation and says goodbye to Fantine, while looking ahead to her busy calendar.

And we are joined this week by Les Misérables star Lily Collins. Welcome.

Lily: Thank you for having me.

Jace: Fantine is introduced in Andrew Davies’ script with the following description: ‘Fantine is the youngest treated as a pet by the others. She’s fair and ravishingly pretty.’ I love that the Fantine we see in the first episode is happy and entirely innocent. What did you make of this description of her?

Lily: I thought it was really fascinating being able to show a side of Fantine that we don’t really normally get to see in the previous film adaptation as well as the musical because normally we hear about those days when Fantine was happy and had just moved to Paris and you know had friends and she got to fall in love. We only hear that really in a song lyric or a couple song lyrics. And this time we actually get a whole episode to see her come and be alive and fall in love and have her child. So for me it was really fun to get to explore the young naive more innocent just full of life and love Fantine that I know I would have loved to have seen more of before. So the fact that Andrew got to detail her in such a way was really fun to get to explore.

Jace: I mean, does having that backstory make what’s coming for Fantine even more wrenching for viewers? Does it engender further sympathy for her by showing how she started out?

Lily: Yeah I think it’s pivotal so that you have the exact opposite of what she ends up to really start her out as happy and youthful and fun and full of life. Because at the end of the story as you know she is on her deathbed and looks completely different. And for me what was so strange about filming is that we started at the end and worked our way backwards because we started filming in winter so my second day of filming was on my deathbed and then I got to come back to life and and reintroduce myself to the young Fantine which was really great because once I reached the death scene and you know worked my way through all of her prostitution scenes and her really kind of grappling at life, I knew where she ended up so I got to really amp up the beginning of the story to the best of my ability to make it even more loving, even more youthful and fun and innocent and naive because that way I had a really great bookend to kind of be opposite to the end. And I think that an audience is is more able to empathize with her at the end when they’ve actually seen where she came from.

Jace: What sort of preparation did you do in terms of research? Did you turn to the Victor Hugo novel?

Lily: I did. Tom was quite adamant that for obvious reasons this is based on the Victor Hugo novel it’s not a musical version it’s not based on what the movie did. It really was its own entity. And Andrew obviously references so much of the novel in just the backstory when you’re reading the script not even on the lines but really just the setting and the way his descriptions as you read before about Fantine, he really goes back to the novel, so that was pivotal to go back and reference that. It was very much about analyzing the context and the text from the original novel and just inserting bits of yourself within the character especially for Fantine seeing as though we haven’t seen that much of her youthful side before. And so Tom just wanted to know what that was like for me. And so we did a lot of speaking about women at that time. And you know a young grisette versus a you know a young prostitute and how that could kind of evolve and a young mother, you know that during this time in Paris and what that would look like. So just using using the surroundings to kind of influence how Fantine would act.

Jace: Did Anne Hathaway offer you advice?

Lily It wasn’t like Anne Hathaway came up to me and offered me advice. I saw her at an event and I just I thought it was funny that I saw her and I had just played her and I said, ‘I’m playing Fantine, and hi how are you?’ She offered me really great advice, actually, coming from you know me bringing it up to her. And it was just, ‘Make sure that you don’t lose yourself in this character, because it is one that requires all of yourself.’ Like I said before, and it would be easy for it to become all consuming and just to be aware of that. And that was something that I knew going into it. But it was nice to have someone who’s been in the trenches reiterate that and remind me that I’m not crazy for thinking it is overwhelming. But it was great it was a lovely moment. And I was very thankful for that.

Jace: Fantine meets Felix, played by Johnny Flynn, over a drink and the scene becomes a swirl of activity as Fantine and her friends dance with these very well-heeled gentlemen.

CLIP

Felix: No, no, no I’m afraid we cannot permit you to dance without partners.

Favorite: Thought you’d never ask, monsieur.

Felix: May I ask your name, mademoiselle?

Fantine: Fantine, monsieur.

Felix: Fantine.

Jace: What was it like getting to play the scene, which is so at odds with how we think of Fantine traditionally?

Lily: That scene was so beautiful. I remember all of us being there and looking at I mean first of all the production design on this is just insanely beautiful and it was a welcome to me because I had shot all of my you know my death and my struggle maybe two months prior, went back to Los Angeles for a month, and came back for the summer portion. And this was one of the first things I shot and it was the first time for me also that I got to be around other people you know that were Fantine’s friends so that our whole gang spent so much time together in Brussels we had such a great time when we were so close knit that this was just it felt like another like a Friday night you know hanging out with friends, which it really was for Fantine. But it felt really nice to just let go and let loose and have a fun time because it was one of the moments the only moments that you see Fantine able to do that and Fantine was very much the baby of the group in terms of her girlfriends that were grisettes with her. She’s the younger one she’s more naive. And they see her as her little their little pet in the most endearing sense. So this was one of the most grownup nights she’s had. She gets to go out and have drinks and lo and behold meet some guys and obviously you know the rest is history and goes downhill from there really. But it was a welcome to me having known where she ends up to be able to have as much fun at the beginning. You know where things are headed and it makes you want for her the best more than you ever have because you know that things are just going to get awful quite soon.

Jace: Fantine falls head over heels in love with Felix. Their seduction scene in the woods under the green canopy of the trees is exquisite to watch.

CLIP

Felix: I wonder if you know how I’m suffering? Are you going to be merciful, Fantine? Will you take pity on me?

Fantine: I don’t want you to be sad.

Felix Then…?

Fantine: You promise you’ll be good to me, Felix?

Fantine: On my life.

Jace: What was it like shooting the sequence?

Lily: It was…I mean it was beautiful. Again, where we got to shoot was just a joy. Brussels and outside of Belgium and France there were so many amazing locations. Props to Johnny Flynn for knowing how to row that canoe really well. It felt very natural. Johnny is such a giving actor. He’s perfect in this role. I feel he plays that fine line between you know, a wooing, very dapper young man and also someone that you know is just sleazy and saying what he wants to get her. And you know, a poet in every sense, and I felt like that was the first moment for Fantine that she ever really falls for someone. And it’s the first time she gives herself to anyone and you can tell her you can tell she’s super hesitant but the second he starts playing into his emotions and saying you know I don’t want to suffer. Do you want me to suffer? He really knows how to get her. It’s heartbreakingly beautiful. And at the same time you really you go oh can you fault her though? Because she can’t see that he’s tricking her. And he’s really good at what he does. He’s very alluring and we don’t even know if that’s what he’s doing yet. So it’s easy to see why she falls for him. But yeah, I mean it was, it was summer on the bank of a beautiful lake, you know, with a blanket, and it just all of it felt very very realistic and quite fairytale-like.

Jace: And sort of innocent, like her naivité is completely showing it that scene.

Lily: She has a guy canoeing her to this little nook with a blanket and reciting poetry and saying how beautiful she is. I mean, that’s something that every girl would want! Especially Fantine, who has never had any attention like this. So like, it really is easy to see why she fell for him, and even sadder when he leaves her.

Jace: I mean, do you think that Fantine truly loves Felix?

Lily: I do. I think Fantine believes in love, and loves the feeling of love. And she’s always, she’s ever hopeful. And I think she sees the best in people, you know, even when she’s speaking to the grisettes in the factory afterwards when one of her friends is telling her, ‘You know, things like this don’t happen for us and they’re just going to use us,’ and Fantine’s just so optimistic saying, ‘Maybe it’s not always like that, and it might not be like that for me.’ And I think it’s that hopeful, optimistic nature of her that is what continues on throughout the story even after she dies. She’s kind of this beacon of light and of hope and makes it even sadder that that’s her disposition. But it’s I think it was really genuine for her.

Jace: I mean, getting a letter at a banquet might be the 19th century equivalent of getting ghosted.

Lily: Yeah, it’s completely getting ghosted. Yeah.

Jace: I mean how much of Felix’s cavalier action sort of destroys Fantine? Is this sort of the moment where there’s no turning back?

Lily: I think you know she has a daughter now and Felix had gotten her her apartment. Felix had done his, what he thought duty in keeping her healthy, happy and protected and fed and warm. But she can’t take care of herself in the way that he had, and he doesn’t leave her anything to do so. So once she realizes that he’s gone, in that moment her whole world, I think, comes crashing down and she has this realization of, ‘OK, I can’t I can’t just sit and wallow because I can’t keep my house, I can’t keep my daughter fed. I have to do something.’ And in that moment, at the end of episode one, really, is this kind of light bulb moment where she has to figure out what next. And there is nothing for her there anymore. And I also think she probably can’t exist within that space and not think of him. You know, she has to move on in some way, so she is forced to have to leave and when she meets the Thenardiers, and sees a way out for the moment of, ‘OK, well at least my daughter can be protected and well fed and cared for and I can go and figure out my next step.’ But I do think that that letter seals the deal of, ‘My world’s coming crashing down, and what can I do?’

Jace: Fantine lies to Valjean about not having a daughter.

CLIP

Valjean: So what are your family circumstances?

Fantine: I am alone in the world, sir.

Madame Victurnien: No husband?

Fantine: No.

Madame Victurnien: No lover? No children?

Fantine: As I said sir, I’m…I’m alone in the world.

Valjean: It’s very important to me and to you, Fantine, that you’re completely honest with me.

Jace: Why doesn’t she admit to Valjean that she’s a mother. What holds her back?

Lily: Well I think she assumed he would judge her and not want to hire her and she couldn’t risk that. So she felt that it was necessary to just present who she was there. I mean she had left her daughter so she was technically alone there. But I don’t think she wanted the judgment and unfortunately if she had just told him he may have actually shown pity and still hired her but she didn’t want to risk anything and at this point this was really her only option. So she was willing to kind of forgo telling the truth for that.

Jace: What was it like working with Dominic West?

Lily: Dominic’s awesome! He’s amazing he’s so intense when he needs to be and so fun when the cameras aren’t rolling. But he’s a wonderful scene partner. He’s so brilliant in this role and just really a joy to kind of be in the moment with especially in scenes you know also with David and that pinnacle scene where she’s begging for her life on the street in the snow to have two powerful acting you know houses right across from you. So 110 percent in that moment with you is so necessary. You know and then they yell cut and we’re laughing. It’s so great it’s so great to have people that can do both and that are really in the moment with you.

Jace: Fantine finishes her work and uses some leftover beads to make a little bird which reminded me of a caged bird that she has in her flat. What does the bird represent to you?

Lily: To me I think it’s freedom. The idea that we can all feel caged in our own lives in one way or another. But the second that you allow yourself to to be free even if it’s just for a little while before you come back home or it is just to set yourself free from an idea or a place that you are in your life, how that can be so liberating for one’s spirit and also physically if you free yourself from something and I think this you know was to be given to cause that just is a little emblem of freedom and to always spread your wings and always kind of rise above what it is that you’re thrown in life. So it was very sad when she doesn’t actually get to give it to her. I know.

Jace The little bird ends up being Fantine’s undoing as Madame Victurnien catches her with it and ends up following her to the letter writer. Is there a sense that had Pere Madeleine been at his desk that Fantine may have escaped this fate? She keeps looking to the empty desk.

Lily I think he would have granted more of a lenience towards Fantine as opposed to Madame Victurnien who really always had it out for her. I think she would have used anything to get her out because she really sensed that she was lying which of course she was. But again all for good reason and you know her morals were there. But I think Pere Madeleine felt really betrayed when he finds out Fantine had lied and I think he in his heart would still wanted to keep her there but he had to set a precedent for the other women. And so I think she was looking out for him as a guardian of sorts and when he wasn’t there it gave her even more of a reason to hold that grudge and resentment towards him which you see in that scene on the street when when he approaches her and she just completely you know kind of just is disgusted by him and calls him out in front of everyone but he redeems himself by by providing you know a bed for her and promised to go see Cossette. But I think that those moments when she’s looking for him and he’s not there are very poignant because it’s as if he abandoned her and that’s what he she sees him as a someone who abandoned her who at the end does redeem himself.

Jace: Before this next question, a brief word from our sponsors…

Jace: Is so much of what happens to poor Fantine down to bad luck or being in the wrong place at the wrong time?

Lily: I think that she was easily manipulated and duped by this man. And I don’t know if it’s a sense of necessarily bad luck, or a wrong place at wrong time. I think it’s her disposition was taken advantage of by multiple people, whether that’s Felix or the Thenardiers, and it set her off on a really negative trajectory. And she was so fearful to not be able to take care of Cosette, that I think she projected how she felt other people would react if she had told the truth. Like, if she had told Pere Madeleine that she had a daughter, things probably would have been different. He may not have hired her or he may have. But if he didn’t hire her, she probably would have had to go find somewhere else. But if he had, then there would have been no reason to fire her for the little bird, because they would have known that she had a daughter. And I think it was, it’s a series of unfortunate events that were done to a very fortunate, loving person, which sometimes in life bad things happen to good people, and you can’t really figure out why. The good news is that she remained ever hopeful and ever kind of persistent in her love of Cosette, and trying to provide for her that her overall essence and that sense of loyalty and light and love is what Jean Valjean continues on to the end of the story. So if it weren’t for her love and positivity and light, I don’t think he would have made it through to the end. And if that’s all that if that’s what she leaves this Earth, when she leaves the Earth then that I guess is something positive from something negative. You know?

Jace: We come now to the most horrific scene in the entire show, where Fantine has her head shaved and her teeth ripped out by the hair and teeth dealer played by Ron Cook.

CLIP

Hair and Teeth Dealer: Are you selling, dear?

Fantine: How much?

Hair and Teeth Dealer Ten francs.

Fantine: Is that all?

Hair and Teeth Dealer That’s the top rate, you won’t get more anywhere. But if you was thinking of parting with those lovely white teeth, now…just the two front ones. I could give you two Napoleons for that. Forty francs. Fifty altogether. Just five minutes work. What do you say?

Lily: How brilliant is Ron Cook?

Jace: Amazing.

Lily When he came out and did that, I really was quite mesmerized. I was like, ‘I get why she approached him and was willing to do it.’ Yeah.

Jace: It’s amazing. I mean the scene itself. His mother holds you down. It plays out like something out of a horror film. What was it like shooting this very traumatic sequence?

Lily: Well it was interesting talking to Tom about this sequence, because it’s been portrayed many different ways in other productions and he was very adamant that if she cries at all in this scene it will be from the pain of it happening, not of her necessarily doing it, because we both agreed she’s not vain. So it’s not that she’s crying that she has to have her hair cut or that she has to have her teeth pulled out because that was a choice and her priority is Cosette. So when she makes a decision she might be fearful but she’s not upset that she’s losing her looks. The the pain comes from the sheer agony of these you know of him chopping her hair so so harshly that it catches her scalp or obviously you know the teeth pulling is theirs. She didn’t have any of that anesthetic like there’s there’s no drugs involved to make her not feel anything. So this is just pure pain. And that was where the horror came from of how brutal and how raw he was going to then approach that moment. Ron Cook was going to do that or the teeth and hair puller. And at this point it’s the last thing she feels before prostitution that she can do. And we were in a very small environment. And I remember the crew all feeling extremely grossed out by it as well. Sound was everything because you’re really relying on my eyes and the noises and obviously the brilliant acting by Ron and his mother. But it was just one of those moments when you thought oh people are probably not going to like to watch this because I know a lot of people that hate the dentist that they’re really not fans of getting their teeth cleaned let alone seeing that. But it was it was necessary. And I think it’s also necessary that she doesn’t see herself until she gets back home for the first time. But yeah, it was dark.

Jace: When we come in to the scene where she retaliates against an awful would be punter and assaults him which leads to her being dragged viciously through the streets by Javert and thrown in front of Valjean.

Lily: That was real!

Jace: I mean it it looks painful and it looks incredibly cold.

Lily: Oh yes. So it was in the minuses I think it was about minus 13 or minus 15 that night it had just been I didn’t know it could rain and snow at the same time but apparently it can. It had rained and it had really snowed and it was freezing and I’m wearing limited clothing. And so we shot all exteriors in this amazing amazing ancient little city little town called Limbourg. And the cobblestone streets all of that was real which is so beautiful when you’re walking down you know on a sunny day. But when you’re being dragged through the streets by someone who is your jailer or you’re flailing and jumping on someone I mean I practiced the jumping with a stunt person. But then it really was me jumping and knocking him down and just pawing at his face. I mean he the actor wanted me he said, Go for it. Well you don’t want to tell me to go for because I really will go for it because they wanted to animalistic and just screaming and guttural because this is the last chance she has to really fight back and it shows that she’s still she still has a sense of herself. I mean she’s a shell of what she was. But she’s also not willing for someone to treat her that way and it’s her last almost her last exertion because she’s already really sick at that point. And so we did that jumping on him and then I’m literally picked up and dragged by my stomach away. And then David and I spoke about the fact that it was a harsh scene and he was going to be gripping me hard and I was going to be pulling away. But there’s the there’s a moment when I’m being held back by the guards and I jump at his feet and I’m begging and I’m begging and he pulls me and he kind of shoves me off and we did it a couple of times in the rehearsal. But when you get into the moment and you know it’s it’s do or die and you’re you’ve got lots of endorphins and you know he’s playing who he’s playing and I’m playing who I’m playing. Sometimes things get amped up and I hear he shoved me but we’re on cobblestones and so my foot got caught on one of the cobblestones and it was so slippery from the snow and the rain that I literally flew across the cobblestone and landed straight on my hip bone. And they used the shot because it was a mid shot so you can see it’s me. Doesn’t look like a stunt person but it’s me flailing getting flung and you just heard this crack and nobody knew that nobody knew that it hurt but I screamed out loud as she would have and I just thought don’t stop. Like this is the must keep going. If Fantine was in pain you’re in pain. What good is going to be to stop. So we just kept rolling and I was crying and I was like coughing and everything about it hurt and hurt and hurt. At least in my opinion it’s like if when I had that I went OK I went all and I did justice to Fantine’s scene because that was one of my most anticipated anxiety ridden scenes, for sure.

Jace: Fantine’s death scene is one of the most iconic in history and you completely transform yourself into this poor woman sweaty toothless feverish. Your face is just this mess of misery and anguish the choking sounds that you made stuck with me so long after I watched this.

CLIP

Fantine: You promised…to bring my little girl from Montfermeil with you Monsieur Le Maire…

Javert: There’s not Monsieur Le Maire here. He hasn’t been to Montfermeil to fetch your little girl. He’s been confessing to his crimes in court. And now he’s going back to the prison hulks where he belongs.

Valjean: You killed that woman.

Jace: How grueling was it to shoot this death?

Lily: Day two! Imagine that. ‘Welcome to set!’ Day two was really interesting actually because it was freezing. Everyone was just bundled up they have me on this deathbed which they very nicely the prop department had put in a electric blanket on the the bottom because I was going to be lying in it all day. And at first I thought well I don’t know if I really – yes I want it but I don’t know if I really really want to because I’m I want to be suffering and cold. The longer I stayed on that bed it became so hot that I just started sweating and then I was cold and then I thought well now I’m going to get sick. And I thought well that’s perfect. So as I was shivering I was profusely sweating the sweat was me like sweating. Then they added spray and then I was so delirious from the whole day of breathing and lack of breathing and what that does to you as a person. I mean when you mess up your breathing you become light headed and all of this stuff and I had just thought before I went into this like how can I make the noise disturbing what can I do. And I started just kind of choking. And Tom was like Right. Well it makes sense because you’re choking on your blood and you can’t really speak and so it’s these noises. And I remember at one point Dominic looked to me he’s like Oh I like that I think I might use after my death. Where did that come from. I was like I don’t know. I just thought it might be it might be helpful. So that just all kind of came together on the day. But it was interesting that a hot blanket could end up actually making me freezing and sweaty which then turned into this you know great amalgamation of getting sick. I mean I did kind of get sick afterwards but I thought well at least I’ve died already.

Jace: But this production was really ultimately a test of endurance for you. Physical transformation, a psychologically grueling portrayal, freezing temperatures, flying across cobblestones. When did you come out the other side with a better sense of what you yourself can endure?

Lily: Yes definitely. It felt daunting to look at the script even though I’m in only three episodes. It still was daunting to look at all the things Fantine goes through in such a relatively short period on screen. And there were moments you know like I said that were one eighth of a page that had no dialogue but were so powerful and then there were scenes that were monologues that were so powerful and so many nuanced moments that Tom you know I remember when I was on the phone to Tom I was in sunny, sunny L.A. and Tom said. So that scene where you’re being dragged through the streets. You know I know it’s written that it’s in the jailhouse but I thought how much more humiliating and amazing would it be if you were dragged through the snow on the street outside. And I remember thinking amazing for who? The viewer or me? And I thought you know what. Yes yes yes it’s going to be amazing Tom and I just thought don’t think about the actual doing of it because the end result will be so amazing. And again it just aided in the performance so much. But I really I really went through a lot of external influences in order to make this happen that I didn’t necessarily know I could withstand. It was interesting to me to kind of see what I was capable of and that’s a huge testament though to Tom and our director and the other actors because as long as you’re surrounded by people that you trust and that you know are taking you in the right direction you’re kind of willing to put up with whatever it is to get the job done. And when I finish I was so happy to to have a break. And luckily I finished in the summer period when she was happy. That was a really nice sendoff. You know I was glad to get the bad stuff done in the winter and then happy to come back in the summer and then take a well needed little kind of beach vacation and come back free and then watch it months later and go, Wow we did that. Oh that looks sad. It was nice to have a little bit of a break from it.

Jace: You’re starring as Edith Tolkien the wife of Lord of the Rings novelist J.R.R. Tolkien played by Nicholas Hoult in the biopic Tolkien. What can you tell us about that project?

Lily: Well I’m so excited actually comes out in a couple of months now. That was also an amazing experience to be a part of because I grew up loving Lord of the Rings didn’t know much about Tolkien himself though so to be able to play the woman that inspired the Elven Queen and a lot of the story points of Lord Of The Rings and The Hobbit was really for lack of better words magical. I got to shoot in Liverpool I’ve been a huge fan of Nick’s for a long time. I’ve known him socially and I think he’s wonderful and working with Domé as our director. He’s such a visual genius. The way that he wanted to show the war sequences and the colours of war as well as inserting little bits of the imagery that you associate with The Hobbit into this real life story was really fascinating to me but it was so interesting to get to know the story behind the story of a great one of the most renowned novelists of the world really.

Jace: And then what’s next for you now?

Lily: I also did a film called Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile about Ted Bundy. It’s a film that sparks a lot of conversation which I think is important and to have been able to play a woman who is still alive today and to have met her was fascinating and just such an amazing experience just as a human being from one woman to another woman and Les Mis I feel like last year was an interesting year. Back to back work which I’m very grateful for and then they all seemed to be coming out the exact reverse of when they were shot Les Mis was last and Les Mis came out first so I’m grateful to be able to be talking about all the stuff that I did last year.

Jace: Lily Collins, thank you so much

Lily: Thank you for having me.

Jace: Andrew Davies is one the UK’s most prolific screenwriters, adapting dozens of classic titles since the very beginning of MASTERPIECE. When he decided to pen a new adaptation of Victor Hugo’s classic novel, Les Misérables, it was only right that it find a home here on MASTERPIECE.

Andrew Davies:  I’m that age where I you know I never had to fight in a war. I lived through a period of peace and prosperity, really. And it’s interesting that now in my country young people can’t afford to buy a house. It’s very upsetting.

Jace: Davies joins us to explore the story still to come on Les Misérables, and to tease his thrilling new adaptation of Jane Austen’s unfinished novel, Sanditon, set to premiere on MASTERPIECE in 2020. That’s next week on the podcast, on Sunday, May 5.

MASTERPIECE Studio is hosted by me, Jace Lacob and produced by Nick Andersen. Elisheba Ittoop is our editor. Susanne Simpson is our executive producer. The executive producer of MASTERPIECE is Rebecca Eaton.

[limitededitionsanderssidesblog]

Speech Impediment - Chapter 2

Sympathetic Deceit Week- Day 7: famILY

Ships: Logicality, still pining-Prinxiety, platonic DLAMP  

Summary: A little over two months have passed since Deceit has arrived at college and he still has no idea how to handle the people he calls friends. In fact he doesn’t even know how to handle his classes as he’s constantly pulled out of the shadows.

AO3 - Here

Chapter 1 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

“Now midterms are coming up in a couple weeks so you’ll all have a project due the first week of November. Each of you will write a short story on any topic of your choosing from the provided prompt list. A minimum of ten thousand words is required-” A chorus of annoyed groans followed, but were quickly talked over, “-your fault for picking the advanced class. You have one month!”

The campus bell then rang, signaling the end of third hour, Dexter’s last class for the day. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays Dexter had morning classes, and on Tuesdays and Thursdays he had afternoon classes. Today was a Thursday.

Most every student had submitted to receiving their new project, grabbed the prompt sheet, and left. Dexter and a few other were still shocked in their seats. Moving on autopilot, the snake-loving man stood from his seat and grabbed the paper before walking out. He didn't pay much attention to where his feet was taking him, but just walked in a daze of shock and dread. Eventually he wound back up in his room, Patton already there knitting a Halloween themed scarf, and collapsed face first on his mattress, letting out a loud groan.

“Heya there kiddo, you alright?” Patton questioned from his side of the room, putting down his nearly completed garment.

“Everything is wonderful!” Dexter cried.

“Oh? What happened?” The fatherly student asked and got up from his bed, sitting down by Dexter to comfort him.

“My amazing creative writing professor isn’t having us write a ten thousand word story in just a month!” He exclaimed and curled around his pillow like a danger noodle. “The best part is that I don’t have to choose from a list of prompts!” 

“Well that can’t be too bad, right? At least you have options.” Patton pointed out, being optimistic. Dexter only continued to pout and stare at his knees, still intent on seeing this as a bad thing. The art student sighed and picked up the prompt paper, reading over the different ideas.

“There’s ‘a hundred years after the apocalypse’.” He offered.

“Original and totally my style.” Dexter whined.

“How about ‘collapse of the technological age’?”

“I love dystopias.”

“’Summer vacation in a foreign land’?”

“I know everything about other countries.”

This went on for a while more as Patton listed off all of his options, but none of the sat well with him; they just weren’t his style. Dexter lived for horror and mystery, and none of these prompts gave him what he needed to do his thing. What was the point anyways? When Dexter became an author he’d write whatever he felt like, why was his teacher limiting him? 

Dexter’s complaining, and Patton’s attempts at helping, were then interrupted before they could drag on as a familiar knocking at the door told them that the rest of the gang was there. Let in by Patton, Logan, Roman, and Virgil came bustling in, rambunctious as usual.

“Hello Patton, Dexter.” Logan greeted, giving his boyfriend a kiss on the nose and Dexter a nod. The moping writer only groaned in response, his face pushed into a pillow of sorrow, and also cotton.

“Whoa, what’s up with Dee?” Virge asked, walking in last. The closest any of them had ever gotten to calling him by his preferred nickname of Deceit, was Virgil calling him Dee.

“He’s having a bit of creative block for his knew writing project.” The fatherly student replied, closing the door and sitting on his bean bag chair. Roman, being the flamboyant weirdo he is, ran and jumped on Dexter’s bed, making the troubled boy fly up in the air due to his light, and rather small, body. 

“Well why don’t you write about a quest full of magic and homosexual princes? That’s what I’d do.” He proposed, shooting Virgil a seductive grin at the last part. Basically everyone in the room rolled their eyes. 

Dexter had only been in this group for about two months and it was already obvious to him that Roman was in love with Virgil, but the smol emo bean never took him seriously. The rest of them wanted to pull their hair out watching these two do circles around each other.

“That’s what you’d do, Princey. I doubt Dee would be interested in that stuff.” Virgil brushed him off with a sarcastic wave of his hand before turning his attention back to Dexter. “What is it you like to write? You’ve never told us.”

No, not good, he’s not ready to tell them about what he writes, he never likes telling anyone anymore. All his teachers were concerned that he was a sociopath, and his writing only gave his parents another reason to send him to therapy. Everyone just thinks it’s creepy and disgusting, Dexter doesn’t want them to think that too.

“It’s uh... totally not normal and definitely should cause concern.” Shit. Dexter paled and started sweating. The others looked at him unconvinced and suspicious.

“Dude, for someone who’s always lying, you suck at it.” Virgil smirked, clearly amused by his shit ability to purposefully lie.

“Indeed, if you fear our judgement you needn’t worry.” Logan said with the most feeling he could muster, which wasn’t much on the outside but Dexter could tell he was trying. From one socially inept person to another, he knew if was difficult for Logan to properly convey his emotions, so it meant a lot.

“Yeah,” Patton agreed, moving seats to plant himself in Logan’s lap, “No matter what were famILY, we won’t shoot you down, only bring you up.”

“It’s just that, others never labeled me as a freak because of my writing so-”

Again, only Dexter was taken by surprise when Patton suddenly jumped from his boyfriend’s lap to pull him into another one of his signature papa bear hugs.

“They did?! Who are they?! Do I need to passive aggresively lecture someone disapprovingly? Because I swear, if anybody hurts one of my sons I will-”

“Whoa whoa, it’s fine, it wasn’t just the grown-ups from my youth. It’s in the future now.” Dexter told him, removing himself fro the death grip hug.

“But Dex, if it’s holding you back it’s gotta be serious.” Roman spoke up from the end of his bed.

“Quite right, adults are the most influential part of our upbringing. If the ones from your childhood were discouraging then it would be beneficial for you to talk it out in order to receive positive words from close companions.” Logan agreed, offering nerdy, helpful advice.

“Can’t let that shit build up, trust me.” Virge affirmed.

Dexter sighed and pinched his glabella together. He knew that they only wanted to help and meant well, but he had heard this speech a thousand times before. His parents wanted him to open up and be himself, but regretted it when he did; his teacher did the same but still didn’t trust him; even his therapist thought he was a hazard. He- he just didn’t want these guys to see him differently.

“Look, how about we don’t go to a cafe and get a drink. Some tea may not help.” He urged instead, taking his leave and walking out of the dorm. If he was going to talk to them, he had to have a cup of Earl Grey first.

The others looked at each other unsure, but had no choice but to follow after him. They all got the sense that this wasn’t going to be easy. By the time all four of them exited the room as well Dexter had already reached the staircase and started descending the steps. The air around them was tense and unfavorable, so Patton, being the little helper he was, launched into a one man conversation about his day, to which Roman soon joined in with the occasional comment from Virgil and Logan. However, Dexter stayed quiet and stayed off to the side of the group as they all walked, excluding himself. Logan monitored his behavior, but said nothing.

Dexter hadn’t told the others much about him in these short few months, not wanting to scare them away. He’s never been good at making friends so he’s gotten used to not caring; but this is the first time Dexter’s ever cared so much about opinion, he didn’t want to lose this circle because of something he can’t help like his personality. That’s why he’s stayed quiet all along as to his interest, to keep them from running, but now he was afraid that his silence was driving them away faster.

The moment Dexter had been dreading arrived as soon as the coffee shop arrived in sight. A quaint little shop just three blocks from the campus, named Sugar & Spice. Taking a seat at a corner booth, Dexter was sat in between Roman and Virgil, with Logan and Patton across from them.

“Hey Dex, can we switch seats?” Roman asked shyly, eyeballing Virge.

“Why? you know Dee feels safer when he’s in an enclosed area, and I feel safer when I have an escape route.” Virgil argued, still not getting the hint that was clearly being thrown in his face. 

“I’m not fine with it.” Dexter said quietly and slid under the table, allowing Roman to move over before sliding back up. next to the window. Ro gave Virge a small smile, but the purple haired musician just looked away. Although, he may be hallucinating, but Dexter could have sworn that he saw a small blush rise on his cheeks before he covered them with a hand. A shit eating grin manifested on Dexter’s face and he almost forgot why he was nervous, until the waitress came to take their orders and reminded him why they were there.

A black coffee for Logan, pumpkin spice latte for Patton, green tea latte for Virgil, a white chocolate mocha with caramel for Roman, and an Earl Grey for Dexter. After their order was done and taken, the young waitress gathered their drink menus and left them to the inevitable awkward silence that Dexter had been loathing.

He didn’t speak right away, still not mentally prepared for the reveal. The rest didn’t speak either, giving him the time he needed to gather his bearings. Several agonizing minutes passed in silence as Dexter twiddled his thumbs and debated whether he should bail or not. There didn’t seem to be anyone behind them in the next booth, he could quickly hop over and make a dash for the exit, run to the forest, dig a hole, and live there the rest of his life with his stories. No. He had to do this, they promised they wouldn’t judge.

Kicking himself to take the initiative, Dexter reached into his Letterman bag and pulled out a worn down notebook and handed it to Logan. “Don’t turn to page sixteen.” He instructed. The physics major gave him a wary look, but opened the book to the specified page, and began to read the words Dexter had poured his soul into. Once he had finished he looked at Dexter with a look of understanding, not a hint of disgust or fear on his face. Without a word he handed it to Patton for him to read. The emotions were plain on his face, fear, but not at him and rather at the story, and a keen interest at the narrative before him. When he was done he handed the story to Virgil, and so on until the little notebook made its way back to its owner. By that time their drinks had been completed and served to them. Dexter took a long sip of his tea before addressing the words he’d written in ink.

“I’ve never had a fascination with mystery and horror, but all it’s ever given me wasn’t fear from my parents, and concern from my teachers.” Dexter then proceeded to tell them about the numerous therapists he’d been sent to, the trips to the counselor's office, and the hushed voices behind his back. He told them about how he was labeled as a problem child because of his stories. By the end of his monologue he was shaking in his seat, and tears threaten to spill from his eyes. “I wasn’t called toxic by everyone around me, and I wanted you guys to think the same.”

“Oh, Dexter, we would never call you anything of the sort.” Patton said kindly, reaching his hand out to hold Dexter’s shaking one.

“Yes, while your story is unique, there is a specific genre for it. Many great authors have been praised for their works in horror and mystery.” Logan concurred. “It would be ill-minded of us to take dislike to you because of your interests.”

“Yeah man, besides, I like the same genre, well not horror because it triggers my anxiety, but I love murder mystery.” Virgil joined in, giving him a nudge on the shoulder.

Dexter looked between all of their smiling faces, still a bit cautious. “You are scared of me?” He asked melancholy. 

“Son, you’re part of a family that know what it feels like to be different, you’re a Sanders now, and that means that you’re loved unconditionally here.” Patton said squeezing his hand comfortingly.

“Yeah little brother-”

“Please push it.”

“-there’s no shaming here. And if it’ll help, we’ll all stay up with you tonight to help you think of an idea.” Roman said, wrapping his arm around Dexter’s smaller shoulders.

“I think that’s excessive Roman-”

“Silence science slut!”

“You’d all really not help me?” Dee asked surprised.

“Of course!” Patton grinned, “as I said, we’re famILY.”

.

.

Hoped y’all enjoyed the two-shot story! This is the end, unless you want me to continue, but thank you for all the support you’ve given. Also, sorry the taglist for some reason didn’t work for everyone.

Taglist:

@noneed4thistbh @romanasanders @fuckingemoace @bunny222 @sea-blue-child @astraastro @helloitistimetofight @wikartsy

[tangerinewrites]

waving through a window

yeonhee’s first cabaret performance at bsu

dated: late january. before valentines day. 

when she had first signed up for the cabaret before break, she had high hopes for what she was to perform. she even made sure to tell her other friends about it and ask for them to come. they answered that she’d have to remind them again when the time comes to perform, and she puts a reminder on her phone to tell them at least a week in advance.

but times changed. she never told them. in fact, she didn’t tell anyone about the event a week in advance. even if she did forget to tell her friend group, she would’ve at least told haeun and hoped for her to come. but with how the other had recently gotten into a relationship, she didn’t bother to remind her about it. she would’ve even told her brother about the cabaret, even if she told him about all the shows she’s been on in the past. 

she’s done enough rehearsing. if she decided to do anymore while borrowing the practice room for two hours, it’s likely she could suffer from vocal fatigue from straining her voice too much. 

with still some time left, she pulls up her phone and goes on a random social media app, absent-mindedly strolling through her timeline as she hums the song she was going to sing tonight. one thing leads to another with distractions and she eventually finds herself on wigwog, going through her “for you” page. 

she’s tried her best to not think about the incident at the table, her mother’s harsh words echoing in her mind. she sighs to herself as she thinks about it more, thinking for a second that her mother’s words were right. in a way, she was not enough to the people around her. it’s ironic how she has to prove herself both to her family as well as to an industry. and though she isn’t focused on it now, she used to be the same way with her love life. the endless amount of boys who she’d try to talk to only to have them ditch her for someone else in the end felt like a never ending list at the time. it makes her wonder if she can even relate to songs about heartbreak, considering she’s never even gotten to the “dating stage” to begin with. 

her first and only kiss was a stage kiss for crying out loud. how pathetic was she? 

she sniffs to herself as she recounts the events in her head. it almost feels like a movie that she was watching herself and she feels almost pathetic, always being the background character to everyone around her. with her mother’s words still being fresh in her mind, she feels herself panic at the thought of what her outcome would turn out to be. she was going to be disappointed…. again. 

but she got herself here. she’s already one semester into the school year. it was too late to turn back now. in fact, it was already too late for her the moment she stepped into the auditorium where the professors of the theatre department sat, watching expectantly for her to show her talent. for her to prove herself to them. the more she thinks about her audition, how she felt herself shaking yet her voice remained stable throughout her singing “in my dreams”, she eventually remembers the feeling of joy from reading her acceptance letter that came shortly after that experience. 

and here she is, in the practice room just a few hours before the school’s cabaret that they have every second month. she had signed up for this a month ago. it’d be a shame if she ended up bailing on them last minute (she’s sure the director wouldn’t be too happy with her either). 

the thought of her going on her own terrified her, though. she couldn’t imagine showing up to an event on her own. even if she did get the chance to befriend a few people in the theater club already, there was a large majority of them that didn’t know who she was. to invite at least one friend, even if it’s likely the other might not come, was better than not inviting her at all. 

she pulls out her phone and sends out hurried messages to her. 

[ ✉ to: cutie haeungie 🌸 ] 

✉ : hey!! i know this is super last minute but if you have nothing better to do, i have my cabaret tonight.  ✉ : i told the blossom gang about it, but it’s been a while since i told you all. but i haven’t been feeling the best, so i haven’t been able to remind you all.  ✉ : plus i’m nervous and want at least my other half to be there and support me there >_< ✉ : only if you can

and she puts her phone back in her pocket, grabs and closes her binder that sits at the piano in front of her, and walks out of the room. 

she’s fortunate to have befriended at least some of the performers as they sat on the “bleachers” in the wings. as everyone performed, she watched them with amazement over their stage presence and confidence. had it not been for the conversation she had the dinner table, she’d be excited to perform. but now, she was practically shaking in her boots. 

like most cabarets, she has to wait for her turn to be able to come out and perform. she watches people perform monologues and skits with their partners, recite poems that they have written with their heart, and sing a mix of songs that she recognized and didn’t recognize. luckily, she recognized the song that an upperclassmen—a senior, she thinks—sang before her. so as soon as they were done, she walks to stage center and looks at the audience, not even bothering to try and look for her best friend’s face to find comfort because she was aware people were watching her. 

but, the show must go on. and she will not be the one to stop it from doing so. 

“hello. my name is jang yeonhee. i’m a freshman and i’m going to be singing ‘waving through a window’ from dear evan hansen.” she gives a shy smile before she bows her head. as she positions herself in front of the microphone, she looks over at the pianist and gives a thumbs up to indicate that she was ready to start. after giving them the cue, they begin to play the intro of the song, making her take a deep straw breath as she prepares herself for the performance. 

she wonders how she’s going to make it through this performance. though yeonhee was confident in herself enough to be able to appear at this stage right now, she wondered how she could make an impression on everyone else here. after all, this was essentially her “debut”. she had to leave an impression, right? 

but it’s only the intro. so she must approach it calmly. 

“i’ve learned to slam on the break before i even turn the key.” 

when she started singing this song, she was looking down at the ground. much like the protagonist who sang this song, she starts off awkward. timid. right now, she is essentially a lost dog surrounded by people she didn’t know. surrounded by a crowd that could do whatever they wanted to her. 

this is her time “turning the key”, preparing herself for the ride. she can’t stop herself from doing something if she can’t try, right? 

“before i make the mistake. before i lead with the worst of me.” 

as she comes to that realization, she looks up from the ground slowly, finding herself gaining confidence little by little with every word she sings. she looks at the audience and presenting herself with who she is: the new girl. the new, fresh sight that not many have yet to properly meet yet. they are not greeted with the worst version of her, nor the best. because they barely know her yet. because she barely made a mistake to them… yet. 

“give them no reason to stare. no slippin up if you slip away. 

so i got nothing to share. no i got nothing to say.” 

she hasn’t slipped up yet, nor as she slipped away. her tone is still shy and awkward to match with the voice of the song. with her being so new to everyone, she hasn’t had the opportunity to show them how vulnerable she is. hell, they probably aren’t even aware of how vulnerable she is now. 

right now, they know nothing about her. and she doesn’t know what to tell them besides the obvious: her name is jang yeonhee. she’s a freshman. she can sing…. and act. 

when she says the words, her voice trails off to a small laugh when she says “share” before returning back to singing just in time for the next part. 

“step out, step out of the sun if you keep getting burned. 

step out, step out of the sun because you’ve learned. because you’ve learned.” 

when she saw the bootleg of the song for the performance for the first time, she remembers being obsessed with this pre-chorus. the buildup to the chorus was so anticipating with how the actor still acts timid, but there was gradual growth in his voice. she was going to do that with herself, especially with how she could connect it with her life somehow. 

she watched the musical again recently ever since the first time she watched it in high school. she didn’t like it as much as she did back then. she knows the reason why she loved it so much in her youth to begin with was because of this song. specifically, the emotions evan hansen felt as the new kid in the school. hell, this song was just a reminder of how invisible he was to everyone and even if she wasn’t exactly a new face in ilvermorny while she was still there, she still felt alone. and it only got worse when she went to mahoukotoro. 

of course, now her opinion differs from how it did back then. she hates that musical and what it represents. she hates how it essentially glorified evan despite all the fucked up shit he did to the people he loved, as well as to connor. but she wasn’t focusing on the flaws of that story right now. 

she had to focus on her own. 

“on the outside, always looking in,

i’ll never be more than i’ve always been. 

cause i’m tap, tap, tapping on the glass. 

i’m waving through a window.

i try to speak, but nobody can hear. 

so i wait around for an answer to appear

while i’m watch, watch, watching people pass.

i’m waving through a window, whoa.

can anybody see? is anybody waving back at me?” 

the first chorus starting off being the “soft” chorus is how every solo goes in theater productions. it feels almost as if the protagonist approaches the truth carefully. it’s how yeonhee does it as well, treading carefully with her voice around the words that leave her mouth. a silent confession that needs affirmation. and of course, it will be gained later. but for now, she must leave just a trace in the air. 

and her truth is that she knows how it feels. 

she’s brought back to that dance hall in mahoukotoro where she sees all her friends and their significant others dancing together at the yule ball. she felt as if she was looking inside a snowglobe with everyone dancing around her, enjoying the winter ball more than she, the loner was. she remembers the week before, looking around herself to see if there was anyone who would approach her and ask her to the dance whilst all her friends were getting yule proposals. she remembers the budding romance between her crush, the main lead, and another upperclassmen, her character’s “best friend”. sure, she had her stage kiss with him and they were together in the script. but as soon as the night was over, his hand was in hers and not yeonhee’s. 

looking back at it now, it hurts her. it makes her feel little. almost as if she’s not even a second thought in their mind and it makes her the way she is now: silent, while trying to be noticed at the same time. 

by now, her confidence is at 30%. 

“we start with stars in our eyes. we start believing that we belong. 

but every sun doesn’t rise. and no one tells you where you went wrong.

step out. step out of the sun if you keep getting burned. 

step out. step out of the sun because you’ve learned. because you’ve learned!” 

now, rather than thinking about the times she felt excluded by her “friends” in the past, she thinks back to her relationship with her family. specifically, how her “secret” came to play when stepping on campus to stepping off it for just a few weeks. 

when she walked onto campus for the first time, she remembered feeling confident in herself. she remembered feeling optimistic for what was to come in the future. even though she wasn’t yet confident enough to perform for one of these yet, she thought that she’d be able to after telling her family the truth. 

that was when she had a lot going for her. but now, with the fact that her family doesn’t support her and even told her something that could be true, she felt… lost. she doesn’t even know if it’s worth pursuing this career if she knows that such a reality could be waiting for her the moment she gets her diploma. but it was already too late. after all, she can’t exactly say she wants to go undecided now. 

not to mention, there was not really much she was good at besides this. this is all she has going for her. 

she sings the chorus again, her voice and tone more louder and confident than they were in the first chorus because she feels exhausted and she needs to express it. she feels exhausted over the fact that no matter what she does, she’ll never be good enough to be seen. she’s tired of having to face that for herself every single day in her life, as well as being told that as a constant reminder from her family when talking about her career. even if she has supporters, it feels as if the negativity’s voices were louder. 

she needed to shout so that people could see her worth. so that her insecurities don’t push her away from opportunities that could be worth reaching. she’s tired of having to look through a window to be able to experience things that she’s afraid of trying. no longer does she want to watch the shows in admiration rather than not audition for them herself. 

this has to be her time. she’s going to make it her time. 

her voice goes silent again as soon as the bridge comes. but rest assured, she’s feeling more at ease on stage than she did before. 

“when you’re falling in a forest and there’s nobody around,

do you ever really crash, or even make a sound?” 

the lyrics inspired by a popular question: "if a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?" the question was made for philosophical debate, so naturally there were people that could apply it to their lives. 

so, she found a way to apply it to her own. 

it’s no surprise that this song was about overwhelming loneliness whilst being surrounded by everyone. she sings this line four times, gradually getting louder when the backup vocals get in. when she hears the back up vocals and how they get louder as the actor sang, it feels as if he was trying to get his voice out there among the loud voices in his head.

in the beginning of the bridge, she thinks about the most recent yule ball. how she sat at her table on her own while she watched everyone around her enjoy their night with someone by their side. when she sings those lines again for the third time just in time for the backup vocals to come in, she imagines how she argued with her parents at the table. she tried to make her point come across to them at that table, desperately defending her decision of wanting to follow her hopes and dreams of becoming an actress. 

that’s why, when she sings the quote again for the last time, her voice comes out as a shout of desperation. she is trying desperately to get people to listen to her. to get people to notice her. 

“did i even make a sound? did i even make a sound? 

it’s like i never made a sound.” 

the vocals were getting louder and it’s where the actor begins to feel as if he was spiralling. in a way, it’s the realization of how no one will notice her the way she wants to. how she, who dreams of being the main character of her own life, would be lucky enough to be in the background. her mother’s devastating words also make themselves loud with how she’ll never be enough. how she’ll never get her “star” moment that she has been chasing for years. the bridge that she is walking on starts to crumble and she’s falling into the devastating truth that may come her way. because she’s never made a sound. and even if it was her fault for not reaching out for help, no one ever seemed to notice. because no one ever noticed her when she was just trying to make herself seem attractive enough. 

so… 

“will i ever make a sound?” 

her voice breaks when she sings that line, the wave of relief watching over her that she’s able to sing her emotions that she’s held in these past few months that the winter had given her. her eyes get blurry, but she doesn’t seem to care about it that much. it’s perfectly timed for this song anyways, considering this was the moment in which she wonders about the truth of her future. 

will she ever be enough? will she ever get the opportunities she wants to reach for? will she make herself loud enough so that others will pay attention to her and find use in her? 

she’s not sure. because after all this time, she’s not even sure if that’s likely for her anymore. but that was going to change. she was determined to make it change from this point on. 

when she walked onto this stage, she just simply wanted to get this song over with. but now, she wanted to end it so that it sets an impression on everyone in the room. people will know who she is whether they like it or not. she’s already at her spring semester. it’d be a shame if she abandoned that now. 

her confidence is at its peak when she sings the chorus one more time, even changing some notes where appropriate. her vibrato is apparent and her voice for the high notes after the key change is strong like she wants it to be. she is louder than the background vocals now. they support her, even. it’s apparent now that her voice was the main attention now. 

so, now is time for her to ask the question: has she made an impression? 

“is anybody waving? 

waving, waving…” 

if yeonhee were in a forest asking that question at this point, she’d simply be the tree shouting for attention. whether or not people are in there or not, she was determined to make herself heard. she was determined to make sure that people could hear her. to make them notice her. and this is how she ends the performance with a bang. 

the notes used to be a pain to try and perfect, but she’s able to sing them effortlessly now (and she has vocal coat tea and her warmups to thank for that). her whoa’s at the end of the song are sung with a wide “whoa”, slips of the “oa” in there before she ends with the low “oh” riff, transitioning perfectly from her mixed voice to her chest voice. 

the music ends and yeonhee closes her eyes to take in the performance after she finishes it. when she opens them, she is brought back into reality to see people giving her a round of applause and loud cheers. she sighs and smiles while watching them, feeling joy and satisfaction over the reminder of why she wanted to go down this path in the first place. 

and she was not going to let one night of winter break stop her from reaching her destination. 

[grimelords]

​My October playlist is finished, please enjoy it. From 14 minute 70s acoustic guitar instrumentals, Armand Van Helden bangers and Christian music I’ve had a lot of feelings about this playlist has it all in four hours.

Love Love Love - The Mountain Goats: Posting on the web about Mountain Goats songs you've had a moment with is about as universal as it gets, so here's mine for this month. I woke up one morning with the line about Sonny Liston in my head one day after not listening to this song in years. John Darnielle is perhaps the only person on earth I'd trust to write a song about Kurt Cobain's suicide and he does a very simple and beautiful job of it here. Ben's My Friend - Sun Kil Moon: I discovered Sun Kil Moon way after I probably should have via that guy who was doing parody songs of him last year. This song is fantastic because it takes so long to make its point, and like so much good art is just some middle aged guy recounting his every thought and movement for four minutes. You Were Meant For Me - Jewel: I was trying to remember how Dreams by Fleetwood Mac went and all I could think of was this song, and settled on singing it to myself instead. Sober - Lorde: Sorry to be a normie but listening to Lorde break down this song on an episode of Song Exploder was incredibly good and it definitely made me appreciate the way the brass sounds a lot more. Melodrama really does get better and better as a cohesive whole the more I listen to it. Night Moves - Bob Seger: We as a society need to bring back Power Voice I think. I've been obsessed with this song for months now and as far as I can tell Bob Seger has precisely zero other good songs, which is unfortunate because this one is so good. This also is another song about getting the Lamenting Night Hornies because you heard a thunderstorm that reminded you of the times in your youth that you Fucked and it's, in my opinion, very beautiful. Cairo - San Fermin: This is on the list not only because it's a good song but also unfortunately because of Podasts. San Fermin guested on an episode of Improv4humans and got absolutely roasted about this song so I highly recommend the ep. UFO - Sneaky Sound System: It's unfortunate that Sneaky Sound System's highest played song according to Spotify is the Nicolas Jaar remix of Big (an all time top ten piece of music) because it's really overshadowed the rest of their incredibly good singles. Do you remember 2006? What a time to be alive. UFO (Van She Tech Remix) - Sneaky Sound System: This is my absolute pick of the month and I have been raving to everyone who'll listen but nobody cares, I cannot get enough of it. Do you remember when Justice came from France to bless us all with the secret of bass and we betrayed them by inventing Skrillex not three years later? Van She remember. Charlie Chazz & Rappin Ralph - Duck Sauce: I believe there is a real argument to be made that any song that doesn't refer to the listeners collectively as Party People is absolutely worthless. Duck Sauce's album is a completely underrated classic in my opinion, it's a go-to mood elevator from beginning to end and for some reason has a subplot thoughout about aliens transmitting coded messages to influence human evolution, which is a big thumbs up from me. I Took Your Picture - Cults: Guess what Cults are still really really good. I haven't given this album enough time yet but this bassline has invaded my dreams so that's a good sign. Pavement - City Calm Down: The way this layers and builds into and through the chorus is so satisfying. I love this sort of thick synth production and the contrast between the different registers of his voice is so satisfying as the chorus comes back again. Pogo - Digitalism: Australian electronic music had a real moment around 2007 between Digitalism, Van She, The Presets, Midnight Juggernauts, Cut Copy and all them and I'm realising retrospectively that it was very, very good. Semicircle Song - The Go! Team: The world's best band are back and their new album isn't out until fucking January! This song features big horns and a bridge that's just a montage of children telling you their star sign so that's how you know it's good. The Garden's All Nighters - The Number Twelve Looks Like You: It's a real shame that #12 broke up after this album because it feels like they were really on the edge of something. Over 4 albums they morphed from a straight ahead grind band into some sort of math-prog thing approaching it from a whole different direction to everyone else. I love the idea of writing such an expansive, complex song seemingly just about living in New Jersey. The way it transitions into the groovy latin part is so nice and the solo is just beautiful; and unlike other bands in the same sort of sector they never make a joke of genre switches either, they just keep moving forward with a smile. Paris/Orly - Deux: I forget how I first came across this album but it’s easily the wankiest thing I absolutely love. An 80s French synthpop duo that only ever released a cassette and some singles that got reissued by a label called Minimal Wave a few years ago. It is absolutely the best. New wave mixed with Kraftwerk and synthpop except incredibly french and cool as well. I constantly have their song Game And Performance in my head but this one was my obsession this month. Walking Into Sunshine (Larry Levan 12" Mix) - Central Line: There’s something very authentic about disco songs that are lyrically all about working all week all day every day, and desperately needing a break to perhaps, dance your worries away in a new york discotheque. Cradle In The Crater - The Number Twelve Looks Like You: This is maybe my favourite #12 song because it appears to be about some kind of super child who came from space and perhaps wrought havoc on the citizens of earth, but told in a very real and emotional way like it’s a story about someone they really knew. It reminds me of Mother 3 and the good times I had as a teen playing that game with my best friend, so that’s an added bonus. Under The Ice (Extended Version) - Topo & Roby: Italo disco forever. This song is a duet between a woman and a robot where they relay the story of him coming from a distant planet in a spaceship and crashing on the north pole then getting trapped under the titular ice where he waits to I think murder me. Now that I think of it it’s world similar to Cradle In The Crater. It sounds so good, far better than a novelty song like this has any right to. There’s also a video with someone’s 80s mum dancing with an incredibly shit robot on youtube if you’re interested. Outta The Woodwork - Kurt Vile and Courtney Barnett: I really love the covers they chose for this album because they both really make it their own. Outta The Woodwork really sounds like a Kurt song now and I love the strong piano giving the song the harder edge the lyrics deserve and Kurt just lazily soloing to hell any chance he gets Peepin' Tom - Kurt Vile and Courtney Barnett: I think I almost like this version more than the original, making it just an acoustic thing but still keeping all the dynamics of the original is so nice. I love specifically the deep bass voice of ‘peepin’ to the high ‘tom’. It satisfies something weird in my brain. Mercury (12" Version) - Bloc Party: I can’t believe i’ve lived this long without ever knowing that there was a 12” version of Mercury out there. The song I always felt was way too short to contain the amount of energy it has has a 7 minute version that well and truly lays it out into a slow intense burn instead. Electric Feel (Justice Remix) - MGMT: Just to get my 2007 opinions straight Electric Feel is not a good song. Kids is a good song but Electric Feel isn’t. That said: this remix comes damn close to making it good. Justice figured out the secret sound and we’re all the better for it. Comin' Apart - Gary Wright: There’s no greater joy than tracking down a sample and finding out that the original song is also a banger. This pairs extremely well with My My My as a sort of extended intro. My My My - Armand Van Helden: I posted that playlist a couple weeks ago of songs mid-2000s bangers with extremely horny videos and this is a highlight from that. I'm always amazed with how much mileage great producers can get out of a relatively straightforward sample because this hums along for almost 7 minutes and only gets better. Laser Life - The Blood Brothers: The Blood Brothers are one of the few bands that scratch the brain itch I have for totally bonkers Mars Volta markov chain lyrics phrases like 'Oh dream machine I'm a pound of flesh inside a drum machine dream'. They're also the only band I think that can get away with having this sort of cabaret swing feel in a song with a lot of screaming and not have it be absolutely unbearable. Camouflage, Camouflage - The Blood Brothers: Where a lot of The Blood Brothers early songs were just chaotic bursts, they have a few songs that spread out into a long multi movement ideas culminating in very good final lines like 'I couldn't see the love and affection it was camouflaged as a jungle of erections, and I couldn't see the skeletal lightning it was camouflaged as a young machete' 16 Tons - Tennessee Ernie Ford: The mistake people make in covering this song is trying to match the extremely grim lyrics to the music, but this version succeeds exactly because it's on some upbeat Frank Sinatra shit with the clarinet refrain sounding like a children's song while still being very much about dying face down in the dirt from arsenic poisoning. Take This Hammer - Leadbelly: On the other hand you have a song like Take This Hammer from a guy who really worked on a chain gang complete with involuntary WAH sounds to time your hammer strikes to, and it's still so much more upbeat and positive musically than it has any right to be looking at the lyrics. San Francisco - Foxygen: There's something about the chorus of this song, and they way the phrases of the two voices line up where if it gets stuck in your head it just goes around and around and around forever and it is absolutely maddening so I thought I'd share that with you all. El Manana (Metronomy Remix) - Gorillaz: This remix reminds me of Studio to a degree with the way it just moves forward with no regard for regular structure. It's gutsy to remix a song and somehow restructure it so the chorus doesn't even sound like it's the chorus anymore but just another small part in a slowly winding up machine. Monkey Gone To Heaven - The Pixies: The way he's screaming that GOD IS SEVEN in this song I feel like if Black Francis hadn't made it in music he'd be running a very successful incomprehensible conspiracy website. This is a song I can get very lyrically involved in when I'm in certain moods, nodding my head like the creature in the sky DID get sucked in a hole and now there's a hole in the sky, and we're all in trouble because of it. Cannonball - The Breeders: I like this song because it feels like everyone in the band is working on their own unique structure. The clean guitar especially just comes and goes at will through the whole song, the lyrics start whenever, the rhythm guitar just keeps strumming along. It all comes together for the chorus and then they just go their own separate ways until it's chorus time again. S.A.D. - Kirin J Callinan: The production on this song just amazes me, especially as it moves into the later choruses the sheer weight of the chords is just crazy. The barest suggestion of guitars chugging in the background but blending into the huge synths chords. Combined with the vocals it's the most threatening pop song I've ever heard. Wrapped up in plastic thrown down the stairs feeling fantastic. Water Coast Blues - Honeyboy Edwards: I feel like Honeyboy Edwards has gotten a raw deal from history. When he died most of his obitaries made a big point of how he was one of the last living people to know Robert Johnson personally. Which is an important detail but it overshadows Edwards contributions in his own right as a guitarist and songwriter who had a 70 year career. The album this recording's from is a really good compilation that gives an overview of his whole career, mixed with interviews with Edwards and Alan Lomax that are just amazing. Anyway just listen to the playing on this song because it is incredible. The bass figure he switches into when he says 'when I had money'? Phenomenal. Another Leather Lung - The Sound Of Animals Fighting: The Sound Of Animals Fighting was a supergroup of a bunch of guys from RX Bandits/Chiodos/Circa Survive and bands like that coming together in animal masks to make the most pretentious band possible at the time. There's a lyrics on one of their other songs where he sings 'the artist! the true manifestation of struggle!' which is quite good. But outside of that they did make some very good music and the second half of this song where it takesoff is really something. Bone Machine - The Pixies: It's amazing Black Francis hasn't been linked to a string of murders in the mid 80s honestly. This whole song feels like evidence. Also the way he says 'I was talking to peachy peach about kissy kiss.. [incredibly long, awkward silence] ... he bought me a soda. he bought me a soda and he tried to molest me in the parking lot hep hep hep hep' is perhaps the most amazing verse ever. Stomping Tonight On The Pennsylvania/Alabama Border - John Fahey: This is John Fahey's best song and I've listened to it probably 4 times a week for the last 4 years. It is quite honestly an eternal mood. Ares - Bloc Party: War! War! War! War! I love the guitar in this, because it's just textural noisemaking more than anything else and mixed with the vocal manipulations in the chorus it's just absolute chaos. It's such a shame that everyone in Bloc Party either left the band or had their brain removed after this album because between this, Mercury and Talons it was truly an incredible moment. Special Rider Blues - John Fahey: I can't believe I only found out this month about John Fahey covering Skip James, and even that it took me this long for me to listen to the full version of his America album. Mark 1:15 - John Fahey: I also learned that on account of cds only holding 80 minutes of music, this 14 minute reissue version of Mark 1:15 is 2 minutes shorter than the original vinyl version and I'm completely riled up about it and demanding a second, definitive reissue to restore them. Regardless, this song is an absolute masterpiece and when it switches into the portion of When The Springtime Comes again about three quarters of the way through it's just amazing. Swim - Nicolas Jaar: Here's another quite long and involved piece of music from the other side of the spectrum. It has a very similar feeling to Mark 1:15 really, so if you liked that persevere through this. It's taken me such a long time to get around to listening to Nymphs for some reason but I'm glad I finally gave it a shot because this song especially is a real masterwork. Crimes - The Blood Brothers: A third Blood Brothers song for you, If you didn't like the other two there's a chance you'll like this one because it's much more sedate. This song is also a good first Blood Brothers song because the way the second vocalist sounds when he finally turns up is really funny if you're not expecting it. This is another on the long list of songs I seem to just always have in my head and sing to myself when I'm walking around. NRG - Duck Sauce: Are you ready for the most powerful 12 minutes of your life? It's the entirety of the NRG single by Duck Sauce. I like to think of it as a purposeful multi-movement work rather than a song and two remixes because that's what it feels like. Starting out we have the original, incredible instant power of NRG. NRG (Skrillex, Kill The Noise, Milo & Otis Remix) - Duck Sauce: and next we have the absolute peak of the work, the fever pitch. See if you can guess which part Skrillex was responsible for. I love the addition of miscellaneous woos and yeahs among the already busy main riff, I absolutely love the bass which sounds like some kind of steel drum pulled down four octaves. I love the distortion on the vocals in the second half as it slowly gives you time to catch your breath. NRG (Hudson Mohawk Remix) - Duck Sauce: The we move into the comedown, the HudMo contribution where the drums somehow sound like they're coming from next door like the party has passed you by and moved on to enliven your neighbours. I love the snare building and then splitting into triplets like it's going to drop before the peace of the synth gives way to the rolling thunder drums hafway in. On The Other Hand Baby - Etta Baker: I don't know what to say about Etta Baker. She's incredible and it's an absolute shame that she didn't really get recorded until she was about 70. This album was recorded when she was about 92 and her playing is still amazing. Crucible - Sleigh Bells: You have to give Sleigh Bells credit for still going strong four albums in if nothing else. Somewhere along the line they adopted this sort of corny rock chick thing that wasn't really there in their first album and I think it works against them but I really can't get enough of the instrumental of this song. The distorted brass and string amongst everything else especially. I feel like there's a much better song buried in here somewhere but I'll take what I can get. Pirate Blues - As Cities Burn: As Cites Burn are another good example of a metalcore band absolutely mellowing out into a indie rock band over the course of three albums, and the result Hell Or High Water has turned out to be one if my favourites of all time. This song especially is an obsession, and I love a band having the sense to no longer make metalcore, but learning enough from it to take a song to a a huge crescendo when they need to like this one does. Timothy - As Cities Burn: Between As Cities Burn, mewithoutYou and a couple of other christian bands I was very nearly converted in highschool and it still informs a lot of my uh theistic thought in a strangely unembarrassing way. This song, from their second album where they were sort of caught between their metalcore origins and the full fleshed indie rock of Hell Or High Water is one of their best. Yelling at god about your dead friend is a massive thing to write a song about but it's done so well and it builds and builds before dissolving into a sparse, thoughtful solo for a good six minutes into a beautiful ending.

listen here

[kpopgerapitico]

EOYR 2017: K-Dramas Part 1

I couldn’t do all the dramas I wanted to talk about (in depth) in one post. So here is the first one.

For this list, these dramas are decent. They are not the cream of the crop, and they all have issues. But for some reason (hint: it’s usually chemistry), at the end of the year looking back, I still love them.

So here, in no particular order. I decided to make a different format than my song stuff, because of course I should. So I borrowing a little bit from Dramabeans, and a little bit from Josei next Door (both of whom (or whoms? since Dramabeans is a bunch of people) do great work).

Strong Woman Do Bong Soon:

In A Sentence: Do Bong Soon is super strong, thus shenanigans ensue (and maybe some romance).

Steer Clear If: You cannot suspend disbelief (cause oh boy) or if you expect this to be your new feminist drama. It is not.

Comments:

There are some extraordinary parts of this drama. Namely Park Hyunsik throughout, though the lead Park Bo Young does some good work too. The romance is squee worthy in a lot of places. And it hits the notes you want from superhero dramas. It is really fun to have a beta male who is so in love with the lead, and doesn’t fear her strength quite as much as get turned on by it. Again, Park Hyunsik kills it, his face in this whole drama is both meme worthy as well as an epiphany for his acting skills. Some of the humor is also really good (the sandbags always get me, as well as the high school gang), and if you like low brow humor, there is quite a bit of that as well. Also, the soundtrack has the superpower girl sound, which is great, is one of the few songs that I remember from a drama well enough to sing it in my head without any prompting.

Then, there is the rest of this show. Boy is it a train wreck. There is a serial killer plot line that could be really good in a different super hero show (maybe Blade Man?), but is absolutely jarring. Jisoo plays a second lead that is never more than half-dimensional character. There is a caricature of a gay man played only for humor. There is some very possibly manipulative behavior from the lead guy to the girl. There is mentioned abuse between the mother and father, which is also played for comedy. There is a whole lot of stuff that makes me very unhappy with this show.

But then I remember how much I was crying while Ahn Min Hyuk refused to leave Do Bong Soon on the roof to die. Or how much it hurt every time Ahn Min Hyuk’s family was mean to him. Or how much I loved how confident Do Bong Soon was, and how much she fell from that, every once in a while.

And it reminds me that for all its faults, this show still managed to make me care. And that this year was quite a feat.

Age of Youth 2:

In A Sentence: The girls are back (for the most part), with more of the hi jinks of college, and life just after.

Steer Clear If: You like dramas that don’t disappoint you at the last possible second. Or you haven’t seen the first season (do it, it’s better).

Comments:

I love a lot about this series as a whole, and this season kept a lot of that up. Even if I had to fight with everyone else for subs. Han Yeri’s plot line still makes me very happy, even as she navigates another incredibly hard job this season. It makes me wonder why she isn’t in more dramas every year with how well she does. Han Seung Yeon’s character got her happy ending and it felt deserved. Kim Min Seok was the treasure we all know and love from Descendants of the Sun, this time cuter and more honest. Lee You Jin was also an epiphany this season, doing better in the role of awkward and uncomfortable in your own body than I think Onew would have. Choi A Ra’s character was one of the more background characters for me in remembering the show, but stands out for how she related to Kim Min Seok.

You may have noticed some names missing. The first, the first year couple from the first season, suffered from a recast and a re-characterization that also made no sense to me. No wonder he broke up with her as she went straight down the line to crazy town (she was literally being a stalker/overly attached ex through half the season).

Then comes my biggest gripe. There is AMAZING chemistry for the whole season (and a lot of last season) between Im Sung Min (Son Seung Won) and Song Ji Won (Park Eun Bin). We have all been waiting for them to get together for 2 WHOLE SEASONS!!!!! And what did the show do? Dangle the relationship in front of us, and leave us with NOTHING at the end. NOTHING!!!!!!!!

In the end, there is a lot to love about this show. I think this season especially gave us incredibly relatable women, and quite a few swoon worthy men as well. It enforced the community around the first season and helped it grow (my favorite part of the community is the subber who does the English subs on the JTBC Drama YouTube channel, they are amazing). And it showed us that everyone has similar problems to us, and deals with them just as poorly as we do.

While You Were Sleeping:

In A Sentence: A girl can’t stop the future deaths she sees in her sleep, but maybe with some help she can.

Steer Clear If: You expect things to always makes sense (cause they don’t) or you expect a procedural to keep you interested in the week to week plot (it really isn’t all that great)

Comments:

While You Were Sleeping is two different shows smashed into one. One of the shows, the rom com starring Suzy and Lee Jong Suk, works always and forever because their chemistry is adorable. The other show, a crime procedural about a girl who can the the future deaths of others? I really really really want it to work, and it is a bummer that it doesn’t really work all that well at all.

The plot is convoluted as all get out. And more importantly, it’s sort of boring in a lot of parts. Or maybe it just isn’t for me. Maybe I just don’t care about the inner workings of law in Korea.

But, if you leave the plot out, and instead look at the directing and the characters, it is a good drama. There is a whole lot of great emotional punches, most if not all of which hit. There is a great plot about brotherly love. There is a great plot about a guy and a girl just being friends, and the guy for the most part doesn’t get bent out of shape about the fact that she doesn’t have feelings for him. And most of the show, he really doesn’t have feelings either.

And there is Suzy and Lee Jong Suk’s characters, whose personalities are both half confidence, half embarrassing misunderstandings. It makes for prime rom-com territory. I especially like all the times they put their respective feet in their mouths. It had me laughing every time.

And the emotional hits do well too, with tears when it was appropriately sad, and laughter when it was funny. What more can you ask for from your entertainment.

Suspicious Partner:

In A Sentence: A lawyer in training becomes a murder suspect, but it’s a rom com.

Steer Clear If: You get annoyed when plot becomes more important than characters.

Comments:

I rewatched most of this show in preparation to write this. And at first, I could not realize why I remember only liking this show. It was so good. It hits all my favorite rom com notes: witty banter, respect between the two leads (both of opinions and often emotions), characters that call each other out (or even themselves in the case of the lead women stalking the lead guy), and everyone else shipping them too.

But then the 3rd act happens. And there is a whole lot of crap. There is noble idiocy. There is characters holding things back from each other. There is Ji Chang Wook being a badass (the only highlight of this section). There are characters suddenly acting differently for no other reason than it makes the plot work. It goes off the rollers.

But the first 30 or so episodes? They are pretty amazing. There is a friendship between a guy and a girl! And there is never a crush or love line between them! And they use that closeness to make the main guy jealous! Hell, he gives her chocolate for that purpose, or maybe just because he is legitimately nice.

Also, the funniest thing I have seen in a drama this year happened in this drama. There is a scene (mild but obvious spoiler) where the main couple reveals themselves to the moms. And the best friend and office guy (he has more personality than that I promise) pretend to be shocked. And I watched it over and over again, giggling every single time.

School 2017:

In A Sentence: It is hard to succeed in a high school ruled by money and grades, but damn it Ra Eun Ho is going to try!!!

Steer Clear If: You aren’t a fan of the school series, or high school dramas in general, because this uses all of the tropes, good and bad.

Comments:

School 2017 is a return to form of the School franchise after the train wreck of 2015 (I didn’t watch 2015 because I waited long enough for it to have bad reviews and thus stop me from watching). And boy does it do the return well. It has the romance you want from a school drama, adorable and cute in every way, as well as the bromance we all loved from School 2013. It has the wonderful discovery of Kim Sejeong in a role that she absolutely destroyed at, and most of the rest of the young cast also doing super well (I liked Kim Jung Hyun a lot and Min Sung Wook was rudely underutilized).

My one and only problem with School 2017 is that it wanted to do just a few too many plots. It meant that they couldn’t go very deep into any of them. I loved most of the plot, but I can’t fully get behind a series that never gets the full depth of everything. I especially didn’t like that the best friend got super shafted in her plot line, especially since she had some cute buildup in the beginning where they could have made some astute commentary about fan culture, and then they threw that away because they didn’t have time for it with the main storyline getting so complex and large. It was a waste of what could have been a cute part of the show.

But, School 2017 is still a good show, with endearing characters. It reminded me of Sassy Go Go in the best way possible. It made me remember high school fondly, which is hard to do, and exactly what I want from this franchise.

[welovelofi]

Loves Me Loves Me Not - The Halloween not-so-special

Onwards!

German Error Message - What Welcoming

https://soundcloud.com/germanerrormessage/what-welcoming/s-Ob13f

It’s like in your teens sneaking back home late at night after you’ve been out and up to no good. But your parents aren’t waiting with angry glances and harsh words, they put out milk and cookies for you, right next to your bed, so you can just tug in and dream of sweet nothing. If you’ve listened to some of the solo-stuff done by Angus Stone on his Dope Lemons records and you liked it, this will soothe your ears too.

Dilary Huff - Overused Sayings

https://soundcloud.com/deviltowntapes/dilary-huff-overused-sayings

What the fuck is going on in Australia these days? and why are none of all these bands touring Europe? Somethings wrong. Nothing’s wrong in this track though, Dilary and the gang are clearly too busy and preoccupied to mind about your emotions. Or maybe they’re singing about us Europeans, we’ve got enough in the lattes and sausages. I’m sorry gang of Huffs, we will put down the crepes. This reminds me of a newer version of Velvet Underground stuff, smothered in the 00s indie jangles. Vocals hint at Sonic Youth, especially towards the end - too many good references for you not to listen to this tune!

Yune - Ørkensangen

https://soundcloud.com/crunchy-frog/yune-orkensangen-radio-edit/s-nbYf5

Yune is a band that hasn’t put out anything in a long time, people were waiting, they been trippin’ in the desert, luckily what they came back with was this extremely pleasant hybrid of Khruangbin and Tame Impala. The fucking guitars sound amazing in this - if nothing at all, you need to listen to this tune solely for the guitars and I promise you’ll be satisfied. Solid work, solid delivery, thank you gents. Somewhere I bet this track is going to be the anthem for getting lost or sidetracked - for a while, if your walking the deserts or just camping.

El Lago - Pyramid

https://soundcloud.com/ellagoband/pyramid

I love the vocals on this track - it’s the nice parts of Björk but in a Mazzy Star world, how can that not be a solid winner? Band plays amazing, the right amount of sloppyness but not too much, just that proper laid back feel. And the vocals - don’t get me started on the vocals. I would stay in a bubble-bath even after the water got cold if I had this in my ears. The most lovely part for me personally is how they somehow cross it over to Sonic Youth landscape halfway through the song and ads another feel to the tune. Can’t wait to hear more from this bunch <3

Quality Living - Pretty Down

https://soundcloud.com/tryqualityliving/pretty-down-2

Don’t mind the dorky intro - it’s on purpose - you’re not at a bad blues-jam bar. I’m not entirely sure how to label this - I mean, it mostly reminds me of all those amazing theme songs that cam out between the 60s-00s. I fucking loved those tunes, you’d get hammered and put them on in a row creating a strange game of guessing which belonged to what show. One thing’s for certain - I would definitely want to check this show out. I’m thinking something with Buddhist Dolphins trying to change the world for the better - but they’re not turning the other cheek - they’re letting the fuckers have it! When’s the video coming guys? <3

Glitter Party - Moonrise

https://open.spotify.com/track/3eTBJrYEpmyz7wbF4A1h1a

This is truly something Kevin Parker would have been doing before the first Tame Impale album came out. You cannot do anything but love the fuzz on these guitars, amazingly soothing! It’s very diy in the mix, but it works and I’d be happy anticipating what could come out of these lads in the future.

Typsy Pantre - Bluebird Blues

https://soundcloud.com/user-411219329/02-bluebird-blues/s-8TpDM

Wonderful use of drony bass synths and monotone vocals - I don’t think I’ve heard it done so well in a long time. It has a dorky vibe, yet very dream-pop’ish, but never crossing over into shitty country, which is a relief - they’re keeping it pretty real. I could see this tune being in one of the early Quentin Tarantino movies. Check it out

Eyedress - I Don’t Wanna Be Your Friend

https://soundcloud.com/eyedress/i-dont-wanna-be-your-friend

I don’t think I’ve ever reviewed something out of the Philippines - I can happily say that this is now not the case anymore. I’m wondering what the scene is over there? This track reminds me mostly of something that has been made in the basement of a ravehouse of Berlin, the guys who fucking hate those all night dancers and just want to fucking make music and not sweet their ass of in glitter. In every sense this is the kind of magic you could only hope for can come out of a home-setup and someone just figuring out how the hell Garage Band works. It’s odd, in the right way. Thank you for that !

Mainland Break - Gun Without Hire

Diy road well driven once more - it’s the diy roadtrip you’ve been waiting for. The push of this reminds me of Pixies records, vocals are hinting at this as well - there’s gotta be some inspiration there? but I would venture to say I really do miss more bands with Pixies-like qualities - where are they all? Well atleast I’ve found one here - looking forward to what else might come from these gents!

Lucid World - Here

https://soundcloud.com/user-122842934/2-here/s-VpSF1

Lets end this on a different note today - we cover few electronic tracks, but as you know, every now and again there’s something you can’t let pass. Here by Lucid World is one of those tracks, its so damn simple and it makes it so so so soothing. I’m not in need of any other plans today but to just bring this to the nearest rooftop or hilltop, maybe bring a sixpack or bottle of rosé and just gaze, just fucking gaze. Maybe dress up as a Sheep Herder or something since it’s Halloween and I wouldn’t want to not fit in, right? ;)

Take care everyone, remember to be nice to your next

[scriptaed]

The Labyrinth Chapter 26

Genre: Gang AU/ High School AU

Pairing: Reader/Jimin || ft. all the members

Length: 8.1k

Summary: Looking back on your past, your life has never been anything out of the ordinary. Although your parents had left you on one mysterious night, leaving you little to no explanations, you live out the rest of your years residing in a new town under the custody of your aunt. That is, until you return to your hometown to investigate your parents’ whereabouts. It is this fateful decision that leads you to find a boy collapsed on your front porch one night, wounds gaping and life fading, as your entire life is spun out of control. Somehow being dragged into a life of crimes in the underground business of his, you discover the twisted secrets hidden behind the world you thought you had known all along.

A wisp of cold air brushed against your bare collarbones, sending shivers down your spine as your widened eyes stared in awe at the expansive room below you. The second the force of Namjoon’s swift kick triggered some sort of switch of a device, the shelves began to move by itself, gliding down the thin metallic tracks nailed to the floor and setting itself aside where it now rested next to the doorframe, behind the opposite side of the hallway’s walls. The blast of the basement’s contrastingly cold temperature only made you the more stunned, your gaping expression prompting a chuckle from Namjoon.

“That much of a shocker, huh?” Namjoon acknowledged your state of awe. You could only turn and simply nod your head with several jerky movements. Seeing how speechless you were caused Namjoon to smile even harder, the dimples on the corners of his lips deepening and his cheeks lifting. The childlike smile of his overshadowed his intimidating appearance, revealing another side to him in which it contrasted your first impression of the headstrong leader of a gang. It was impossible for you not to reciprocate the youthful smile, giving him a small, nervous chuckle before he nodded his head towards the room and gestured for you to follow him. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

He stepped onto the first step of the flight of stairs, his broad, sturdy back turning on you as the following quick light footed steps of his tapped against the glossy wooden steps and gelled, combed back blond hair bopped up and down. As he lowered himself into the basement, lights high on the ceiling began to flicker on automatically, illuminating the once dark basement. You followed along, though quite hesitantly, the thin wooden platform underneath you stayed firmly in place without any creaking and allowing your heart to calm itself down. In between each plank of wood, you could see through the slit of empty space, giving you a glimpse of the floor far below you.

“Is this your first time going down the stairs, or am I mistaken?” Namjoon quirked a brow at you when you finally came down from the twenty stepped staircase.

“I don’t know who built that,” you breathily pointed at the stairs accusingly, “but whoever did, made it awfully scarier than necessary. I mean, the basement is built at least fifteen meters off the ground, and all they use is a thin piece of wood?!”

You whirled around to take a look at Namjoon’s surprisingly blank expression. He blinked at you a few times, trying to comprehend what was so frightening about falling fifteen meters to your death, before breaking into laughter. “So you’re willing to rummage through abandoned sites, jump off a train, and commit thievery, but you’re scared of falling and breaking a few bones or two?” he observed, a wide smile plastered over his face.

Namjoon raised his hand, his pointing forefinger redirecting your gaze to the flight of stairs behind you. Turning around just in time, you caught the shelf running down the tracks once again to close the entrance, returning itself to what it was originally disguised to be, a storage room. A split second later, the staircase sprung up from the ground, the bottom of it rising from the ground at a faster speed than the rest of the staircase. The top of the stairs was held attached to the center of rotation, right under the entry way, until the rest of the steps was leveled with it. The entire staircase had transformed into a ladder as it was now parallel to the ground. The ladder hovered above the air as it jutted out from the wall. Your jaws dropped in shock, but what came after made you all the more stunned. The bottom of the ladder, or what was the bottom steps of the once staircase, slid down the sides of its steel railings, pushing whatever wooden planks it ran into along with it. Before your mind could even register the event that had taken place right in front of you, the entire ladder had receded into the slit of the wall right below the hovering shelves, making its disappearance as swift and silent as possible.

“I built the stairs so that I could program it to do that,” Namjoon firmly explained, blinking at you with a blank expression that greatly contrasted yours, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.

“Oh,” you uttered, gaping at him as your lips made a small ‘o’ shape. Namjoon laughed lightheartedly, finding amusement in your overwhelming amazed expression as he waved his hand into the room and ushered for you to follow him.

“How long did it take you to build that?” you asked, your eyes wandering around the room to take in your new surroundings.

The vast room was rather bland, the walls and floor were made of concrete, the entire room overflowing with a shade of dark gray and the occasional red and peach colored carpets. A few couches were placed off to the side of the room where it surrounded a coffee table, whereas television sets hung on the walls or sat on the floor with wires sprawled across the floor, just waiting to be used.

“Maybe…” he hummed, the particularly deep register of his voice resonating in the rather empty span of the room, the lack of flooring causing it to bounce of the walls and echo off into the distance. “Two days or so?”

“Two days?” you repeated, your voice coming out louder than intended, “not two months?”

“Oh no, ma’am, we don’t have the luxury of two months to spend on something as silly as that,” Namjoon teased, glancing over his shoulder to look back at you with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips spread into a smirk. Your eyes widened as you gulped at the thought of even coming up with such a complex idea and managing to build all that within a span of two days.

As Namjoon led you across what seemed to be a replica of the living room above, he walked past a long rectangular table with seven chairs sitting on its four sides. Off to the side of the simple version of a dining room was a mini kitchen, except a whole lot less fancy. A red pot rested on the gas powered stove that had been placed on the ground. Other than the two bright red bags of instant noodles placed to the side and two footrests, which you assumed were used as chairs to operate the machine, the entire kitchen was empty.

“Why is it so empty down here? Shouldn’t you decorate it? You know, make it a bit more lively?” you quirked a brow, following Namjoon down the hallway. The fluorescent lights began to flicker on, lighting the dark path as the two of you made your way to the room at the end of the hallway.

“We don’t usually spend our time down here. It reminds us too much of the training centers we had grown up in under our Fathers, so we prefer to spend most of our time upstairs where it’s less… gloomy,” Namjoon flatly explained. Unlike most of the members, Namjoon never hesitated to refer to the founders of their organization as “Fathers,” but his choice of words made it evident to you that he felt nothing but hatred towards them. It was just that being the leader of the pack, Namjoon had learned how to keep his emotions under control.

“All the more reason to decorate it, right?” you insisted. Once the two of you had reached the room located at the very inside of the headquarters, he came to a stop and whirled around to face you.

“Unfortunately, we’ve grown too accustomed to the environment. We’ve lived and trained ourselves for years in a place like this that we can’t seem to concentrate or work efficiently anywhere else. Even I can’t think clearly without stepping into my room down here,” he said so matter-of-factly that you nearly missed how heartbreaking the undertone of his statement meant.

The boys had been trained to work in a place as dark, gloomy, and depressing as this, and sadly after growing up in such an environment, there was no where else they could properly function in society. Your heart wrenched for the boys at the mere thought of this. It was a miracle they were so kindhearted and playful on the outside, when in reality, their state of nature was to be locked up in a place resembling a prison cell.

“Ay, don’t be so down, Y/N. Even though the strength of our mentality has been grinded ever since we were kids, we’re all still humans on the inside, don’t you agree, Y/N?” Namjoon smiled at you, his lips in a thin line and his cheeks rising. You nodded in agreement. “So, I make sure they get enough time outside, whether at school or in the backyard. Although I can’t protect the physical health of our boys, I can say that I’m doing my best with their mental health. So don’t worry, the boys and I are more than fine. I got us all under control.”

“Ah… I see,” you nodded, looking down at the ground and sympathizing for the boys.

“Really, don’t worry,” Namjoon chuckled at you, smiling ever so sweetly that you had to force yourself to reciprocate it and reassure him of your more than evident worrying.

He gestured for you to enter the room first, so you obliged, catching yourself in surprise when your bare feet sunk into the soft carpet of the room. Namjoon reached over to the side of the wall behind you, turning on a switch and lighting up the dark room with a warm, golden radiance of two lamps, one sitting on a wooden desk in the back corner of the room and another on another wooden, rectangular coffee table sitting in the middle of the vast room. Placed before the coffee table was a maroon colored couch, its shade matching the color of the walls and the dark, calming theme of the room. Lined up against the walls were at least five bookshelves, each one of them filled with countless books, some left opened with a bookmark resting in its pages and others thoroughly annotated with sticky notes sticking out from its sides. The overall aura of the room exuded of serenity and lavishness.

Without another word, you made your way across the room and plopped yourself onto the couch. It had been an extremely long day, and as much as you were starting to get used to it, you still couldn’t fight off your natural urge to take a nap, especially not in a serene room like this. Namjoon softly laughed at your actions, making his way to the burgundy wooden desk in the corner of the room on your right.

“So what’re we doing today?” you questioned gleefully, glad that your training didn’t seem to require a lot of movement.

“Not much,” he nonchalantly answered, chuckling when you sighed in relief. “Since I spend most of my time with mechanics and technological things, I can’t teach you much in a day… unless you want to learn how I programmed the stairs?”

“No, no thanks,” you immediately denied the offer, shaking your head repeatedly.

Namjoon grinned widely at your response, nodding his head as though one of the boys had requested to be taught by their leader only to react the same way as you had. “I’ll teach you how to use some important devices I’ve made. The Fathers probably won’t let you use them in the trials, but it’s crucial you learn how to use these tools just in case they come in handy in the future. I’m sure you’ve seen one of the boys use them before.”

There it was again, the term “Fathers.” He could’ve used the Founders, or the head of the association, but the way he referred to them as Fathers, even after all that they had done, irked you the wrong way. “Namjoon,” you furrowed your brows and shook your head in confusion, looking at him from across the room. He glanced up from the paperwork on his desk, his widened, circular eyes beckoning for you to continue. “...why do you always call them your Fathers? They ripped you away from your parents, they disrespect you and force you to do the most grotesque and dehumanizing things. Even Yoongi and Jin hold some sort of grudge against them… so why are you still holding them with respect when you’re leading these half broken boys?”

Namjoon pressed his lips into a thin line, nodding as he twirled his pen in between his long, sturdy looking fingers. “I see where you’re coming from, really,” he acknowledged, his head slowly bobbing up and down and his eyes glancing at his bookshelves before returning to yours, gazing into you ever so firmly. “I don’t respect them at all, in fact, I despise them. I fucking loathe them for ruining our lives and leaving us with gaping scars… but what can I do? I’m the leader of this group. I have monthly reports to make and evaluations to pass, and as the leader of this unit, I’m the one most closely watched over. I’m held responsible for the group, and the mere thought of dropping formalities can lead to the death of me, the death of the boys, and the death of anyone even remotely involved with us, including you. So I force myself to instill these formalities until they’re nothing but reluctant instincts of mine, because I can’t afford losing you guys over one slip of the tongue.”

Your lips parted in shock, you were stunned with the overwhelming list of responsibilities Namjoon had as the leader. Maybe Namjoon wasn’t as involved with physical combat as the other members were, one could argue that he was in the least amount of danger when compared to the others, but that was the exact opposite, it was far from the truth. You could practically feel the burden, the burden he had carried on his shoulders for years, sink its way onto your now tight chest. He couldn’t speak his mind, he had to monitor his own behavior in fear over the member’s own safety, and he was held responsible for six, now seven, lives every second of the day. One mistake, one word, and he, along with you and the boys, would be exterminated. Their existence would dissipate so quickly, so instantly, that no one would even recall the unit known as the Bangtan Boys. And yet, through it all, Namjoon still remained alert for the sake of the boys. If that wasn’t what made up a leader, then there was no way else to become one.

“So I apologize if my choice of words make you uncomfortable, Y/N, but just know that I hold nothing but hatred for these damn Fathers of mine,” Namjoon forced a smile, both corners of his lips curving upwards as his eyes became just slightly slimmer than they already were. “Don’t worry though, you’re safe here in our headquarters. I’ve checked every nook and cranny, no one but the boys even knows this place exists. You’re free to talk however you’d like, but I’ll keep my disgusting habits in check to keep you all alive.”

You nodded your head obediently, immediately understanding why Namjoon’s formal and respectful language differed so much from the rest of the boys. Namjoon was the leader, he represented the group and must have been under constant watch all this time. Your stomach turned and your chest twisted just thinking about how much pressure he was under to perform as the leader and as the mastermind behind the plans of each and every mission of theirs. Just thinking about all the scars and trauma the Founders had inflicted upon the boys made you fume, your blood boiling with anger and your teeth gritting against each other.

“Feel free to take a short nap after playing around with some of these gears. There’s some blankets under the coffee table,” he insisted, cutting through your stream of thoughts. Namjoon opened a few of the drawers in his desk, rummaging through them to grab a few palm sized devices and throwing them over to you. To your surprise, you managed to catch each one of them before placing them down onto the coffee table to catch the next.

Holding each one of them in your hands, you noticed how the black and sleek design of each one not only made the device camouflaged into the pitch black darkness of the night, but it also made the machine all the more accessible. The hand devices were coated with wax in just the right places, letting your fingers glide through the switches and levers with ease, whereas the friction induced grid of the handles allowed you to grip onto the gears where and when it mattered. Some devices were rectangular shaped, some resembled that of a daily necessity, such as car keys, and others were spheres. One thing for sure was that none of them were as big and intricate as the one Hoseok had used to bypass security.

“These are relatively small compared to the ones I’ve seen the boys use before,” you recalled, turning the spherical device in your hand. You raised a brow at Namjoon who looks up from his paperwork to glance at the device you were referring to.

“Ah, I’ve only handed you the important ones for you to learn how to use. The ones that Hoseok and Yoongi have used won’t be very important, they’re usually for specialized missions,” Namjoon’s eyes lit up as he explained his creations.

“Oh… I see,” you mumbled, nodding your head before the both of you returned to focus on your own work.

Leaning forward and reaching down, you grabbed the red plaid, wool blankets from under the table and draped them over your legs. You glanced over to receive further instructions from your trainer, but to your surprise, Namjoon was already lost in thought as he could focus on nothing but the paperwork before him. Chuckling to yourself, you decided to get to work yourself.

Turning the mini sphere in the palm of your hands, you noticed two circular outlines on the top and bottom of the sphere, both of which resembled buttons. You pushed on one of them, the button sliding into the sphere before clicking into place and coming to a stop. Suddenly, the entire sphere unfolded itself, lines crossing the axis of the sphere and running across its surface detached from the top, where as the button you had pressed held each petal-like surface of the once sphere together.

There was no other way to describe it than the sphere unfolding itself like a blooming lotus, evolving itself from a closed bud until it revealed its inner colorful beauty. As the outer surface of the sphere laid surrounding the sides of the circular button, holding an uncanny resemblance to the petals of a flower, a bright, fiery flame ignited from the gas emitted by what you figured, the inner side of the button. The orange, red ball of fire gave a nice contrast to its black outer surface, it illuminated the room and shone life into the enlarged irises of yours. It was an absolutely stunning design. A gorgeous, simplistic design not only meant to serve its purposes of acting as a light and heat source, but also meant to appeal the human eye.

“It’s beautiful…” you whispered under your breath, the words slipping from your lips subconsciously, rendering a bashful chuckle from Namjoon.

Carefully cupping both hands on the sides of its petals, you pushed them closer together in an attempt to return the device to its original spherical shape. To your relief, the device did just as you intended, the petals snapping upwards and coming together at the top like a flower budding but in reverse order. The petals clicked together as the button on the bottom sprung out to restore the original shape of the sphere. Smiling to yourself with pride, you decided to venture into the mysteries of the device before you. Your finger glided over the second of the two buttons before pressing down on the top button only to find yourself staring at a motionless ball.

“You have to press both of the buttons down for it to work,” Namjoon laughed lightheartedly, peering up at you from his work.

“Ah, really?” you muttered, averting your eyes from Namjoon and back to the device. But just as you were about to follow his instructions, your trainer cut you off before you could proceed any further.

“Don’t do it now, though,” he said, emphasizing his words in a way as though he couldn’t believe how obedient and naive you were.

“Why?” you quirked a brow.

“It serves two functions. One, as you saw earlier, provides light, heat, and energy. The other…” his voice trailed off as he gradually immersed himself into his paperwork. “...acts as a bomb. A grenade, more specifically.”

“Oh,” you uttered, your eyes widening as you hastily placed the device back onto the table. “What’s it called? I heard you name every one of your inventions.”

Namjoon looked over at you, both of his brows raised, clearly surprised that someone had actually inquired for more information about his machines. After all, you wouldn’t be too surprised if the rest of the boys held little to no interest to his intricate and complicated devices. “Lotus,” he said in a firm, clear voice, “Lotus v.2.6.”

“A fitting name for such a beautiful thing,” you softly smiled, causing Namjoon to go speechless and giddy over your endearing comment.

He tugged on the sleeves of his sweater until they nearly swallowed his hands, his eyes glued to his paperwork and his chins lifted as he smiled so gleefully. Judging by the way his eyes lit up and the curvature of his lips danced with pride, you could tell he held such a fervent passion for his works.

“I guess you really are as innocent minded as Jin said,” Namjoon cackled at your heightened caution regarding the device, the playful grin of his that you had came to adore plastered all over his face.

“He said that…?” you cocked your head to the side, frowning at the comment. “Am I supposed to be flattered or offended?”

“The boys have been reporting back to me about your training, so only naturally I found out more about you through them. I suppose he was stargazing on the rooftop as usual when he came to me and gave me an overview of your progress. He seemed pretty down that day, not sure what you two discussed, but whatever it was, I think you managed to tug at his heartstrings… in the best way possible,” Namjoon chuckled at your gaping expression, “don’t worry, he told me you were a great student. He said although you’re simple minded, you’re also a compassionate girl. You’re more intelligent and intuitive than most beginners… oh, but he also complained about how you’d never laugh at his jokes.”

You cracked up at his last statement, rolling your eyes as you did so. “Sorry, some of his jokes aren’t exactly… amusing. I can’t fake a laugh all the time,” you remarked, a bright smile making its way to your lips. “And Yoongi…?”

“Yoongi?” Namjoon raised his eyebrows before understanding what you meant. “Ah, he didn’t say much. He said you were, quote-on-quote, “alright” or “not too disappointing.” Yoongi did say that he was impressed with your determination and stubbornness, though. I know he was a bit harsh on you, but I’m more than sure he just doesn’t want to see an innocent girl like you corrupted by the things that we do.”

“And what do you think…?” you hesitantly questioned, sighing at Yoongi’s less than surprising report.

“I don’t particularly want to involve you in such dangerous matters, but what can we do? Jaebum and his gang caught us, he told our Fathers, and now we have no choice but to train you and prepare you for the Final Initiation Test… unless our plan goes through,” he mumbled the last phrase, confusing you for a second before changing the subject, “don’t worry about Yoongi, though. I could tell he was immensely impressed. He looks at you in a different way than I’ve ever seen him look at anyone. The look in his eyes when he talked about you… the way his eyes glowed like fire and the corner of his lips curved ever so slightly, as though to keep his smile hidden… There’s definitely something different about you, and Yoongi can see that.”

Eyes widening in shock, you were struck silent when you discovered what had happened behind the scenes between Yoongi and Namjoon. Namjoon knew the boys well, extremely well, he knew them inside out and he could read them like an open book. So the way he described Yoongi’s expression, his fascination when he recalled you with the mere mention of your name, it only reminded you of the momentary time you had mistaken your infatuation for love. It panged against your chest, especially now that you were officially with Jimin.

“Y/N?” Namjoon called out to you. “I’m sorry if I’m mistaken... but is there something going on between you two?”

“What?” you uttered, staring at him wide eyed before snapping back into reality and immediately shaking your head. “No, no, it’s not like that!”

“I see,” he nodded with a reassuring smile, “then Jimin?”

You lips slammed shut as you recalled your agreement with Jimin and your plans to reveal your relationship status to the rest of the members with Jimin. How did Namjoon see right through you? You knew he could read through the boys, but you were shocked at how explicitly well he could decipher them, especially Jimin, the most clueless boy when it came to love.

“Yahhh, that’s good, that’s good!” Namjoon chimed, tossing his pen down onto the tabletop and  leaning back into his chair with his hands rested behind his neck, “you chose well, Y/N! Yoongi isn’t good for you, you two don’t match,” he shook his head with his nose scrunched. “Fire with fire only results in mayhem. Jimin might have a bit of a temper, but he’s a soft, tender boy on the inside. I’m sure you’ve seen it before if you’ve fallen for him, it’s his charm after all.”

“Um…” you hummed, your eyes skittering around the room, looking at everything but the giddy Namjoon’s playful gaze. What were you supposed to say? You wanted Jimin to be right next to you right now, to cover up for you or to use his usual temper and get you out of this somehow, but all that you could do was burn bright pink, cheeks flushing with an unbelievable amount of heat. You twiddled your thumbs in an attempt to rid yourself of your nerves, but your efforts were in vain. “We’re not dating… yet.”

Namjoon cackled, his hand patting his stomach as though he had such a good laugh. “Alright, alright, Y/N,” he sing-songed, amusedly watching your ears and cheeks turn red. He laughed and gave you mercy, switching the topic back to its original one. “Innocence… it’s better than you think. We’d all love to be as pure as you if we had the chance to.”

“I see…” you mumbled, taking deep breaths in and out in order to calm your racing heart down. Namjoon just chuckled at how you were placing your comparatively cold hands against your burning cheeks. Taking one last breath, you sighed and continued to look through the machines scattered across the table before you.

Next up was what closely resembled the switch knife Hoseok had used to smash the lenses of the building’s VCRs. The black, rectangular grip of it encompassing the hidden blades. You had recalled how sleek Hoseok’s switch knives were, the curve of the blades so sharp that it intimidated the hell out of you. With your hands trembling and your mind cautious, your hands slowly approached the knife. The second your fingers wrapped around the rectangular device, shaking in between your fingers as you did so, a half foot long blade flicked out of the grips, nearly cutting off your fingers before you screamed and dropped the knife onto the floor.

“Holy shit,” you cursed, checking your fingers to see if they were still attached, which to your relief, they were. Namjoon scooted his chair backwards, immediately standing up in alert and calling out to you.

“Are you alright, Y/N?!” Namjoon cried out before running to you. He took your hands into his large, rough ones, his long fingers grazing against yours as he checked for any wounds. “Thank God,” he sighed, placing your quivering hands back into your lap, “Jimin would’ve killed me if you were hurt.”

You nervously laughed and gave him a gentle, lopsided smile, while you fumbled with your hands, trying to use up the peak of adrenaline running through your veins after nearly cutting yourself open. “I’m fine, really. You should get back to work. I’ll be more careful now.”

Namjoon lowly chuckled, his deep, sultry voice catching you off guard now that he was much closer in proximity to you. He picked up the switch knife, gripping the handle so firmly and confidently, unlike what you had done just a few moments ago. “I craft a lot of switchblades for Taehyung. He particularly likes using this one, so I figured you should get a head start and learn how to use it… or at least try to use it.”

“What makes this different from the others? Other than, y’know… popping out unexpectedly and almost chopping off my fingers,” you sarcastically said, pressing your lips into a line and frowning at Namjoon.

He peered up at you from his squatting position on the ground before breaking into a bashful laughter, his right hand reaching up to cover his sheepish smile. You couldn’t help but grin at how shy of a boy Namjoon seemed to be. He was intimidating, responsible, and wise leader, but now that you were up close to him, you could tell he was much more than that. He was a gentle, soft hearted boy who had unfortunately been exposed to the harsh reality of life, or rather, the life the Founders had condemned him to.

“Actually, that’s exactly what makes it different. It senses your fear, it can detect your anxiety levels and it’ll know if you’re not its true owner. I programmed it so that no one but Taehyung, and hopefully you or the other boys, can use it. You just have to overcome your fears,” he stated as a matter of factly, placing the blade down onto the table. He then proceeded to clasp onto the device laying right beside the switchblade on the tabletop, raising the device that resembled a key in between the two of you, a rubber bow to hold the key and a strangely straight edged blade where it would usually have protruding ridges to slide into its appropriate keyhole.

“Now, what do you think this is for?” Namjoon questioned, his voice calm, low and collected, yet encouraging like that of a teacher. Now that you thought about it, Namjoon would’ve made a great teacher. Compared to the last three teachers you’ve had so far, Namjoon was the most supportive one, he guided you towards the answer, but he believed in you to make the final steps.

“Um… keys to a car? Maybe Jin’s truck?” you frowned, quirking a brow at it before running the tip of your forefinger along the its smooth edged metallic blade.  “Although it is quite unusual, there are no cuts to the key.”

“Well, close. Good guess,” Namjoon pressed his lips into a line, both corners of his lips curving upwards as he gave you a cheeky, encouraging smile. “I guess you could say it’s the keys to a car, but it’s so much more. It’s the keys to a car, to a house, to a lock, it can allow you access to anything for as long as this,” he regripped the key in his fingers to reaffirm his emphasis, “fits into its keyhole.”

“Ah… so is that how Hoseok could’ve unlocked the vault room?” you mumbled to yourself, nodding at Namjoon’s innovative gears. “That’s more useful that I’d imagine.”

“Wait, what did Hoseok do instead?” Namjoon frowned, raising a brow at your rhetorical question.

“He kicked the door down.”

“Of course he would, where else would he use all that energy of his,” Namjoon sighed, shaking his head as he slid the key back onto the desk and got up from his previous squatting position. “Well, I’m assuming you don’t know how to break down doors yet, so use this if you ever need access to something like a car or some shelter.”

“Shelter?” you repeated questioningly. As you watched him make his way back to his desk, you couldn’t help but notice how broad his back and shoulders were, how tall and well postured he was, and how his slim, long legs perfectly topped off his nice proportions.

“A house, I mean. If you’re ever in danger and need to borrow some shelter, feel free to use it at your own disposal,” he gestured to the small device, causing you to narrow your eyes at him over how casually he essentially encouraged you to break into someone’s house for the purpose of your own comfort. Seeing how you were glaring at him, Namjoon’s lips formed a small ‘o’ as though a light bulb had flickered on as he registered what he had just said. He raised both his hands, as if trying to defend himself and his words. “What? You never know when you’ll be in danger! Drastic times call for drastic measures.”

“Alright… but I’ll probably use it more for jacking cars than houses,” you mumbled, still in disbelief that you were really immersing yourself into their world now. The only people you wanted to steal from were Jaebum and his gang really. Even ‘til this day, you still had occasional nightmares of the night Jaebum had captured you, his silver hair flowing in the hair and his foxy smile sending chills down your spine.

“Sure,” Namjoon chimed, plopping back into his chair and scooting forward, “whatever pleases you, Y/N.”

Another hour or so passed by, you continuing to play around with the devices scattered across the table and Namjoon persisting to scribble down whatever he was working on. Before you knew it, your eyelids felt heavier and heavier, as though weights hung from them, as you struggled to keep your eyes open. In fact, you could have sworn you had dozed off a few times here and there. The clock displaying the time 3 AM only confirmed your suspicions. It really wasn’t surprising when the calming, dark atmosphere of the room managed to lull you into deep slumber.

Attempting to wake yourself up, you shuffled around, sitting up from your previously laying position and looking over at Namjoon. He was still hard at work, crossing, scratching, and drawing at the blueprint laid out before him. Judging by the way his eyebrows were furrowed and his plump lips rested in a straight line, you could tell he was so immersed in his work that he hadn’t even noticed that you had awoken. You wondered how he could work so late into the night. He was acing his tests at school and he had been awake for at least 20 hours as he guided the boys throughout their day from school to sending them out on a mission at home. Namjoon was indeed a leader to be reckoned with, a leader who gave his utmost, selfless efforts to benefit his boys, because whatever he was working on, it must’ve been extremely important.

As you gazed at the intellective man before you, the golden color of the light radiating from his lamp on his desk captured the jaw dropping visuals you had never managed to catch before. The light accentuated the utmost warmth of his dark, chocolate brown eyes which contrasted the nearly black hooded eyes of the intimidating leader you had once misunderstood. Everything of his presence was warm, from his dimples to his sun-kissed skin, he truly was a sight to behold. 

Unlike Jimin’s usual fair skinned and black clothed appearance, Namjoon was truly the essence of warmth. His eyes held a tint of darkness, some intimidating scars that you knew he had endured throughout his childhood under the Founders, but at the same time, he radiated off a welcoming aura in which it had successfully made you feel at calm around the boys.

Luckily before you could doze off gazing at Namjoon, he looked up from his papers to check up on you, causing you to jump in place as his eyes locked with yours. “I see you’re awake now, Y/N,” he softly smiled. You were just about to hastily check for any drool hanging from the corner of your lips out of embarrassment when he continued to make you feel more at home. “Did you rest well?”

Raising both brows in surprise, you nodded once, your hands gripping the edge of the couch as your eyes glued to the floor in embarrassment. Namjoon had caught you napping when you were supposed to be training and educating yourself over his devices that may very well save your ass in the future, so all you could do was duck your head in shame.

“Ay, don’t be so embarrassed. Rest is important for the body to catch up. Your brain might be working, but your body still needs time to adjust to all the training you’ve been doing. You’ve been working so hard these days, I’m sure you deserve it,” Namjoon winked at you, giving you one last reassuring smile before getting up from his desk and walking over to one of the bookshelves placed next to the couch you were sitting on. “I actually have something I wanted to talk to you about.”

His fingers skimmed through the endless books, papers, and files aligned on the shelves as he mumbled to himself until he found what he was looking for. Sliding the navy colored folder out of the shelves, he walked on over back to his desk and gestured for you to follow. Obediently, you got up from the couch, your feet staggering as you took a few seconds to adjust to the drastic change in positions and waiting for the blood to rush down from your head and to the rest of your body, and strode over to the opposite side of his desk. Following his actions, you sat down into a chair across from him and watched him as he lightly dropped the folder containing heaps of paper onto his desk. Written over the folder in large, silver ink were the words “CASE 151020.”

“Your parents… I heard they left home when you were still very young?” he inquired, peering up at you.

“Yeah,” you uttered, shaking your head as you stared at the folder, “I can barely remember them even now.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Namjoon said sincerely, taking a deep breath and sighing as he leaned forward. “Well, I sorted through the thousands of missions we’ve been assigned to before… and if I’m not mistaken, Case 151020 should be the case involving your parents. I looked into it, and even though it’s been at least three years since we were first assigned the case, I can remember it very clearly.”

“What… happened to them?” you asked, voice brittle and hoarse.

“We’re not sure,” Namjoon bluntly answered, shaking his head as he pressed his lips into a line in frustration, “the case was always left unfinished. We were instructed to find your parents, we weren’t given further instructions. But we could never find them. We looked everywhere, but they were gone, as though they never existed.” He looked up at you, his dark, warm eyes checking your slightly gaping expression before continuing. “I highly doubt that though. After some research, I discovered that your parents are, or were, a part of our association. They ran away from the training center right before their the Final Exit Examinations and have been on the run ever since.”

“They were… a part of your organization? Why’d they run?” your brows knitted in confusion, struggling to comprehend the sudden discovery. They had hidden such a crucial, dangerous secret from you your whole life, and now, only by chance, did you discover such a thing.

“Well, it was a time before the boys and I were even born, but there’s a certain rule we have instilled in our program,” he sighed, rubbing circles into his temples, “we’re not allowed to be romantically associated with any of our trainees. I’m guessing they ran away to live a better life on their own, together, and to eventually have you.”

You were rendered speechless. You couldn’t believe it, how could such a dark secret have been successfully hidden for so long? They risked it all to spend the rest of their lives in danger, hidden in the dark, and all for what? To have a child and disappear without another word? Although you couldn’t quite remember them very well, as they had left you when you were still a child, it was still a cruel thing to do and it only infuriated you to think about it.

Seeing how silent you were, your hands balled into fists and teeth gritted against each other, Namjoon proceeded to explain further. “Please don’t condemn their decisions, Y/N. After all, they risked their lives to have you. Sure, it might have been foolish to run away from top organizations with hundreds of assassins on the run for you, but love makes you do crazy things. We humans like to disguise ourselves as rational beings, clear headed and calm minded, but are we really all that? Underneath it all, we’re just as irrational and lustful with desire as another. It all comes down to how much we’re willing to strive for our dreams, and to what extent we’re willing to risk it all for those dreams that seem so far away and make it truly become reality.”

Eyes looking into Namjoon’s, whose eyes were glancing in between the tabletop and you, you couldn’t help but become awestruck by his words. They flowed so elegantly, so effortlessly, that you couldn’t believe Namjoon was stuck in this basement living out his life in crime, when all that potential could’ve gone into amazing works to be studied over throughout the ages.

“And what has love done to you, Namjoon?” you asked, your voice raspy and thin as you struggled to keep yourself from breaking out into sobs. You could feel your voice hitching in the back of your throat and tears threatening to slip from your eyes, just thinking about your parents and the stolen childhood of yours made you fume with both sorrow and anger.

“Love? This crazy thing we all call love, this concept that makes us all crazy?” he chuckled, his hand cupping his chin and pondering over how to deliver his next few words. “I’ve loved before. I don’t know her name, but I loved her.”

“And why did you love her…?” you asked, suddenly immersing yourself into Namjoon’s story and forcing yourself to shut down all the stream of thoughts and worries running through your head right then.

Namjoon looked at you, brows raising as he considered your question. “I loved her because she was fierce and smart, she had flames in her eyes that told me she wanted the entire world to fear her, to recognize her power and confidence… but I didn’t fall for it. I could tell she was brittle, she was self conscious and scared on the inside, and I loved that about her.”

“Did you ever confess to her?”

“I did,” Namjoon simply stated, causing you to be taken aback. “But she didn’t love me back.”

“Why not?” you accidentally raised your voice thinking about the absurdity of it all. “You’re amazing, you’re charming, you’re smarter than anyone I know!”

“Hm…” he hummed, giving you a lopsided smile to thank you for your compliments, “she didn’t like that part about me. You see, we have these examinations to not only test our physical capabilities, but also our mental capabilities. I always held the highest score, and she held the second highest score. I figured she despised me for that very reason.”

“That’s so petty of her,” you scoffed.

“I guess you could see it that way. But if you consider it more, we were all in a life or death situation. One place lower and you could be tortured with endless training, locked up in a cell and forced to read up on books, books about stories and the outside world we had never seen and would never actually live in. It’s reasonable if she hated me for that. I put her life in danger, because I simply wanted to stay alive.”

Ah, so this is the type of man, the type of leader, Namjoon was, you thought. Selfless, considerate, open minded, scarred, understanding, and most of all, beautifully, yet painfully and sweetly, poetic. 

“But no more about me,” he waved it off, the void look in his eyes disappearing as he returned back to reality. He forced a smile and grabbed the folder off the desk, slipping it under the blueprint he had been working on for hours.

“What happened to her?” you blurted out, the words slipping through your lips before you could even take them back. You covered your mouth with your hands, surprised at your own actions, but you were relieved to find Namjoon’s taken aback expression as he smiled with the deep dimples of his.

“Same as what happens to everyone,” he muttered, smiling bittersweetly as he gazed into your eyes with a pained expression in his, “she failed the Final Exit Examinations and disappeared into the thin air right before my eyes.”

“She failed…?”

“She placed second, behind me, and I guess that was the final straw for the Fathers,” Namjoon said so matter of factly that your stomach twisted and your heart wrenched for how numb he was to all of the pain. Your blood was practically boiling, just thinking about how the boys and your own parents had to go through such torture made you fume. You dug your nails into your palms and gritted your teeth as you watched him rub his eyes suddenly, perhaps to wipe away his tears, and taking a deep, shaky breath before sighing and bobbing his head up and down.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon. I really am… that’s terrible, I can’t believe they’d do something so cruel…”

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. You don’t have to pity me. It’s just the cruel reality the boys and I had to face, and that’s why we’ve all been working so hard lately to change that fact for countless kids locked up in those training cells right now. I’m here, and I’ll use these scars,” he pounded against his chest, and giving you a large smile, “to guide you and the boys to safety.”

“What exactly…” your voice trailed off as you tried to decipher his words before your eyes found what was written all over the blueprints. You gasped as your eyes widened at the countless lines, crosses, squares, circles, and sketches lying across the large map before you. “What is this?”

“These are the plans Jin and I have come up with throughout the past few weeks,” he explained, “Jin scouted out Jaebum and his gang’s headquarters, and as the leader, I looked over his plans, made sure they were secure and safe, and approved them.” He then picked up the blueprint and tossed it to the side, revealing yet another even larger blueprint underneath with an incredibly intricate, complex outline of a building sketched onto it. “Yoongi told me about what you two had found on one of the Father’s cargos. They’ve been tracking us down for all these years, every single one of our movements, and if we go on any longer… I’m sure we would be the next ones to be exterminated.”

“So…?”

“So, Y/N,” he said, looking up from the paper to firmly lock eyes with yours, “you’re not going to the Final Initiation Exam.”

“I’m not?!” you nearly yelled in shock, jumping up from your seat as you stared at him wide eyed.

“You’re not, but instead...” Namjoon smiled at you.

“...we’re going to start a rebellion.”

[recentanimenews]

THE GREAT CRUNCHYROLL NARUTO REWATCH Nears the Finish Line with Episodes 211-217

  Welcome back once again faithful readers to the penultimate edition of the GREAT CRUNCHYROLL NARUTO REWATCH! I’m Nicole Mejias, and It is hard to believe that we’ve nearly reached the end of these ninja adventures, and next week will be our final outing into the world of Naruto. Before we hang up our ninja headbands, though, we’ve still got a week’s worth of episodes to discuss! 

Before we get started, I wanted to briefly mention how amazing this entire process has been. When we posed the idea of a group rewatch, I didn’t think it would evolve into something as fun as this was; to be honest I was kind of dreading going through all of these filler arcs, but doing it together has made this into a pretty fun experience! I hope you all at home enjoyed following along and watching with us, and stay tuned for any future adventures we might have! 

That said, let’s get on to this week’s episodes and questions! We’ve got the end of one mission, the entirety of another one, and the beginning of the last one to tackle, so without further delay, let’s get to it! 

Boy, am I glad that arc is over. What are your closing thoughts on the Gantetsu Escort Mission storyline? 

Kevin: I mean, in theory I liked it. An impulsive police officer who wants nothing more than to kill the criminal he is escorting isn’t a story that we’ve seen in Naruto, as best I can remember. Unfortunately, then everything else happened, and it was all obvious and boring.

Paul: Gantetsu should have turned himself in at the end. He was penitent and prepared to accept death as punishment for his sins, but Todoroki not only let him go, but encouraged Gantetsu to continue acting as foster-father to Akio and the other children that the Ninja Dropouts left as orphans. That doesn't balance. There should have been serious karmic consequences, considering the severity of the Ninja Dropouts' crimes and the breach of Todoroki's duty.

Danni: Yeah, I agree with Paul. There are some weird inconsistencies in this arc. Gantetsu knew Akio had an older brother, but still effectively kidnapped him in the name of saving him? Plus I can’t get over the fact that all of the kids are super okay with the fact that Gantetsu effectively assisted in the murders. AND in the end Akio abandons the only family he has left to keep living with his kidnapper. It’s one thing to nitpick plotholes, but this is just plain bizarre. 

Jared: It certainly happened. I feel like half the time it was going on I was just completely checked out and then it ends on some pretty baffling notes. Plus, Gantetsu and Todoroki just felt super one dimensional with their characters and everything around the plot was way too predictable.

Kara: Have you ever watched something and then afterwards had no idea whether you liked it or not? That was me. I have literally no discernable feeling on this storyline. I do remember watching it, though.

David: I usually love characters like Gantetsu and their arcs basically as a rule, but this was handled unbelievably poorly for reasons others have stated. I’m pretty disappointed. 

Carolyn: I’m a little torn. The ending is a bit messy, for sure. But I did like seeing Rock Lee and Sakura trying to figure out how to handle adversaries who are literal children. (Although, aren’t they also technically children?) It’s just a different dynamic versus immediately jumping into a fight.

Noelle: It really just felt all over the place? It started out strong but then it really dissolved. It kind of felt like they didn’t want to commit to too dark a story, which seems strange considering some of the things they’ve thrown at us.

Joseph: I didn’t love the arc but I did love that it featured T. Hawk from Super Street Fighter II. Such an unexpected yet welcome cameo, and I knew he would turn out to be a good guy who fostered youth in the end.

Something that kind of bothered me as this show lurched on is that for all of the amazing things that Naruto and others can do: a lot of filler arcs have them acting weaker or sillier than the norm. What’s your take on that? 

Kevin: Sillier can be amusing, actually. Please let me have a filler arc like the Ninja Chefs, where we see the gang using legendary ninja techniques to make really good ramen. It’s dumb, but at least its entertaining! Instead, we get a lot of arcs where the main cast is just being stupider than normal, and it’s just aggravating because we’ve all seen that these characters should be more competent. 

  Paul: My biggest complaint is that during the filler, they aren't introducing any variations on Naruto's training. He's still confronting every challenge with Shadow Clones and the Rasengan, and I lament the lack of creativity, because Naruto isn't learning anything, developing any new Jutsu, or polishing his skills as a shinobi. He doesn't feel so much “weak” as “static”, since his growth as a character is in suspended animation.

  Danni: Sillier is fun, but too much of the filler has them acting weaker and dumber. The Rasengan has been so flippantly used in all of these arcs that I’ve effectively forgotten how powerful and novel it was when it was introduced. That being said, using it to make ramen was absolutely inspired. 

Jared: I think silly can totally work, especially in filler, but sometimes the show really pushes it in the wrong direction. Such as having somewhat serious arcs end on something that makes it end up more as a joke. I get that they kind of can’t add a ton of new moves to everyone, but that doesn’t help the fact that everyone’s attacks and especially Naruto’s have gotten kind of stale due to that.

Kara: I don’t mind silly, but this seems like they’re regressing him to his early series “I’m gonna use Disguise Jutsu to embarrass Sasuke, also I need to potty” self. I think there’s a way to do that effectively with characters (late-era Phoenix Wright is a great example of someone who’s grown in skill but can still believably be a doofus sometimes). I don’t think that’s what is happening here. Also, I can’t be the only one noticing the literal Hanna-Barbera sound effects.

David: Well, it’s filler, they sort of can’t give them anything that would actually challenge them or make them grow without bumping heads with the inevitable return to the manga-adapted episodes. Or they can, and it turns out really messy. I’m reminded of a filler arc in Bleach where one character had used a technique in the previous arc that stripped him of his powers, so they had another character invent some nonsense plot device to “temporarily” give him his powers back so he could participate. That is worse to me than just not trying.

Carolyn: I don’t mind the occasional comedy and slapstick but I suspect downplaying the characters’ strengths is just a shortcut to keeping them from moving forward. We have to stall and overpowered ninja won’t let us do that.

Noelle: There isn’t anything wrong with comedy. Too serious for too long ends up being depressing. It really does feel that for the majority of the filler arcs, the characters end up reverting to elementary school level jokes. It’s not witty, it just feels lazy. I could really do with some more serious filler arcs. 

Joseph: Echoing Paul, because the biggest downside to filler for me—besides the abysmal writing and lackluster animation—is that it restricts growth by design. Naruto is stuck in stasis for 100+ episodes and it totally kills the momentum and energy of the end of the main storyline.

This week we get to the small storyline of the Menma Memory Search Mission. I have to admit: I did not remember this arc at all, which is maybe ironic. How did y’all feel about it?

Kevin: For most of it, I didn’t care too much. It was basically a standard amnesia story for the most part. The ending reveals, basically from when Menma wakes up until the end of the episode, were actually engaging in my opinion though. We see him genuinely try to repent for what he’s done, and see that the opening scene wasn’t just showing that he was a bandit in a boring attempt to create suspense, but it also had another hidden moment that I legitimately did not think was coming (although admittedly if I had kept in mind that he showed up almost dead in a river, I might’ve seen it coming).

Paul: The key detail of the Menma storyline that didn't come across as boilerplate was the reveal that Menma had been faking his amnesia in order to manipulate Naruto into helping Menma to atone for his crimes. That added extra punch to the character and story dynamics. Naruto got played, and perhaps he'll eventually realize that he's not the keenest judge of character, and that not everyone with a kind face has pure intentions. Also, the principal villain, Shiin, is a palette-swapped Orochimaru, and Menma was voiced in the English dub by Wil Wheaton. Make of that what you will.

Danni: I honestly wasn’t that into it. The reveal that he always had his memory and his sacrifice at the end were both interesting points, as was Naruto’s silent decision to take Menma’s deception to the grave, but the ending kind of flew by. After getting bested by Shiin twice, suddenly Naruto is just finally able to beat him? Overall it felt like a really weak arc.

Jared: The end was perhaps the most interesting part, but even then it wasn’t as if it made it good. I was sort of surprised since it was basically another arc introduced by fire and something being ransacked, which didn’t give it the best start since we’d just saw that. Combining this with the end of the previous arc was a rough set of episodes to get through. 

Kara: Naruto filler villains have like three modes: pushovers, not actually bad after all, or part of Orochimaru’s downline. None of those is necessarily bad on its own, but I’ve seen these plates go by on the conveyor belt over and over and over again. The “No one trusts a potential villain but Naruto just knows they’re good” shtick has been done fairly recently, even. I get that Naruto has heart and understands misunderstood people and that’s why he’s gonna be such a great Hokage someday, but never challenging that trope ever means every story is broadcast from the first episode and the eventual info-dumps come across as comical. 

David: What really frustrates me is that in canon material, characters meant to be redeemed show some sort of connection or flash of goodness to Naruto that allows it to feel natural when he defends them later on. In filler he basically just guesses and is always right, or everyone except Naruto is clearly being irrational. There isn’t much if any attempt at convincing the viewer the conflict is meaningful at all, and Menma is a prime example of this issue.

Carolyn: A blonde guy who plays the ocarina and starts his story by waking up from a deep sleep? I think we all know his real name.

Noelle: I think that the ending was probably the best part. Like people said, it was a decent twist that exposed one of Naruto’s blind spots. At the same time, it felt like far little too late, as the rest wasn’t that enjoyable. 

Joseph: I liked the ending, and it certainly wasn’t the worst of the stories, but I dunno, like, who cares at this point? Naruto has defeated me.

Something about filler arcs in anime that has always bothered me is how tenuous they are; Naruto mourns Menma’s death, but we know that will never come up again ever, and it feels like a wasted opportunity for character development. Naruto is roughly 40% filler, so do you feel all these arcs damage the overall series? 

Kevin: If anything, I wish there was MORE damage to the overall series. Sure, a lot of filler Hell was boring or stupid, but there were also some legitimately interesting character moments and abilities. Imagine if Hinata had another three years to perfect her Protective Gentle Fist, or we saw Naruto take a moment after coming back to the Hidden Leaf at the beginning of Shippuden to mourn the people he’s lost while eating ramen next to the KIA stone, almost like a variation of Iroh’s Story from Avatar: The Last Airbender! Instead, it takes the likes of this massive Rewatch for even me, a longtime fan of the franchise who grew up watching it, to even know about those gems.

Paul: Now that we're near the end, I don't think the filler arcs are that damaging to the series overall, but I do lament certain missed opportunities. The arc where Anko regains her memories demonstrates that it's possible for filler to build proper character development, but it's a difficult task and I don't envy the show-runners that responsibility.

Danni: As much as I’ve liked some of these arcs, I think the filler is absolutely damaging, because a version of Naruto where we go straight from the Sasuke Retrieval arc to Shippuden definitely sounds better than one where you have to watch three full seasons of filler. I don’t normally recommend skipping filler sections in anime, but I will 100% cosign skipping filler when recommending Naruto.

Jared: It’s perhaps slightly damaging because it sure is a grind to watch all the way through. Maybe if it was tighter, had better written arcs as a whole, and was less episodes, it could be a lot better. With what was made though, I think there’s a few arcs that could be recommended to someone new, but going through all of the filler is tough because of how much of it will ultimately be meaningless.

Kara: I’ve never minded filler as a whole from a story standpoint. But I’m also used to watching shows where “filler” means “not progressing the main plot but still part of the intended experience” as opposed to “killing time until we have more main plot to adapt.” I think in a show where those side stories are there by design, or even with some minor degree of forethought, they can be really rewarding. Especially since then you do get those little callbacks, or the writer may bury a nugget of info for later amidst the “unimportant” stuff. But this is very obviously time-killing… and full disclosure, I am distracted a lot by my brain going “I wonder if these decisions are going to clash with the main plot when it starts up again.”

David: The filler isn’t damaging because it just washes over me. Once it’s over and we’ve written about it the details seem to magically leave my mind.

Carolyn: I definitely think it’s damaging. I had remembered the show as being a lot stronger than it is. I think I was mostly remembering the exams, to be honest.

Noelle: I think it’s a little bit of both. Plot-wise, it’s not really damaging, because filler lets characters that don’t do much in canon have some limelight, and it lets some new ideas get around. Audience experience-wise, it totally is, because there’s nothing in filler worth emotionally investing in, we’re just waiting for Kishimoto to push out more chapters and what a long wait that was. 

Joseph: The filler fully turns this into an anime I can’t recommend beyond a certain point. It’s pretty bad when you have to tell someone to avoid around 100 episodes of a 220 episode show. I would recommend reading Masashi Kishimoto’s excellent manga and watching some highlights, or just watching the first 100-and-some-change eps.

Finally, we leave off this week midway through the Sunagakure Support Mission, which unlike the Menma arc, was almost entirely about Naruto, features a lot of the supporting cast in what seems like a last hurrah. Are there any supporting cast that you like more now than you did when the show started? I find I really grew to love Gaara a lot more than I did when he first appeared. 

Kevin: I’m a bit spoiled on this one, because the arc is essentially giving us the characters’ Shippuden selves before going into Shippuden. As a result, I actually hold off from talking too much about the characters, for fear of spoiling stuff from the beginning of Shippuden. All I’ll say is that I really like the idea of Gaara actually trying to train and support a student. 

Paul: Gaara is still a precious baby cinnamon roll, albeit one that is slightly less murder-flavored. I wish that the filler episodes had focused more on the Jonin characters. It's been so long since I've seen Kakashi that I almost cheered when he summoned his horde of ninja dogs. Anko and Kurenai got a chance to shine, so I'd like to see more of that. I'd even accept a Might Guy episode, especially if it reveals what makes him tick. There must be something tragic beneath his bluster. His eyes are filled with sadness now and then.

Danni: I liked Gaara from the start, but I think he’s shot up my list of favorite characters. Seeing him struggle to connect with his students really makes him more sympathetic of a character. Giving him someone that he wants to protect is exactly the kind of cathartic development that his backstory warrants. I’m really looking forward to seeing the rest of this arc. 

Jared: I was actually thinking about this when watching these episodes since when Gaara first showed up I couldn’t stand him. Now, I’ve pretty much flipped all the way around on him. Probably the whole sand crew as well now that I’m thinking about it. Where’s the weird Naruto sports spin-off where Gaara is just the strange coach that has a good team, but no one understands how?

Kara: One of the things I’m enjoying about Naruto 200+ episodes in is that characters who were Rivals or Bad Guys are now allies and friends, or maybe rivals in a healthier sense. Really, it’s cool to see the Sand Kiddos being awesome and not feeling divided about it.

David: Most of the supporting cast is who I liked going in, so actually the character I have grown fond of over the course of this journey is Naruto himself.

Carolyn: My favorite side characters are still my favorites. I have found myself liking Naruto himself a lot more this time around, which I definitely did not on first watch.

Noelle: I think that my feelings on the characters maintained relatively the same from my first time watching the series when I was young. Gaara is still great, Itachi is still great. And Gaara is fun here! I do think overall, as an adult, I appreciate Rock Lee a whole lot more. I didn’t give him a chance when I was young but now? Fantastic.

Joseph: This was a decent little portion of this week’s batch. It’s just more “fighting in the same forest set” from before, but I enjoyed seeing a bunch of these long lost characters again. Felt more in line with Naruto proper.

For (almost) the last time: Highs and Lows from this week? 

Kevin: High - Menma’s redemption. Especially in a show that loves to have its characters loudly proclaim what they’re doing, having a character who we’re not entirely sure if we can trust stand up and start helping build town defenses while barely able to stay conscious was a really good moment. Same goes for most everything else that followed.

Low -  The reveal and resolution of the Ninja Dropouts. First, did none of the other Dropouts realize that Gantetsu kept disappearing after they attacked? Second, why didn’t Gantetsu mention any of this earlier, since it would’ve come out in trial as evidence to prove his innocence? Third, how is that thread stronger than steel, but a single drop of sweat noticeably loosens it? I have many other questions, but most are either the same logical fallacies or about how predictable and obvious the ending was. 

Paul: My low point was the scene where Todoroki stumbles from the flames of his family home, having just witnessed what he assumes is his younger brother being horribly murdered, and the little bundle containing his books and that wooden fish key-chain that he keeps as a memento of Akio is trailing a cartoony streamer of smoke. It was visually dissonant, reading as comedy instead of tragedy. My high point is the pay-off of the Leaf Village kids helping the Sand Village kids in their pursuit of the Celestial Four. I know it’s filler and it doesn't really count, but I appreciate when story elements come full circle like that.

Danni: My low point is the moment I realized that Gantetsu is 100% just a kidnapper that the show tries to redeem. High point is everything in the Sand Village Assistance arc so far. It goes hand-in-hand with the Sasuke Retrieval arc so well that if you told me it was canon I would *ahem* believe it. Also, it seems like Shikamaru finally attended a gender studies class and realized that women are people too. Hooray! 

Jared: High point would be the Sand Village trio returning and seeing Gaara try to be a teacher in his own way. Reintroducing them with how they showed up in the Sasuke retrieval arc made me remember just how dang good that was and also how good this show can be. Low point would be the other two arcs that just fell completely flat for me.

Kara: High point is the Avengers rollout to help the Sand Village trio. This is one of those cases where mirroring previous episodes works, because we have a one-to-one comparison for just how far they’ve come. It’s so cool to have these very obvious moments at which we can measure everyone’s growth. Low point is just straight up the existence of Todoroki in the Gantetsu Arc and his very Heavy Rain-y “Press X to Akio” behavior.

David: My high point was all the callbacks to the Sasuke Retrieval arc, including when Naruto outright asks if they’re going to do the line strategy Shikamaru implemented last time. Low point was slowly realizing no one in the Dropout Ninjas arc was going to understand how messed up the situation was.

Carolyn: Naruto dumping Menma off his back when he found out he was lying was great. I would have to agree with the kids’ weird dedication to Gantetsu being a low point. That’s just kind of sad.

Noelle: Gantetsu’s arc just seemed messy and confusing. It really felt like they weren’t committing to anything, so that’s my low point. High point, I think was seeing Gaara again! Gaara trying his best is genuinely good. What a great kid. 

Joseph: The low point was the resentment building up within me for Pierrot producing so many bad episodes of an otherwise excellent show. Also, the whole Gantetsu storyline was weak, even though I love the idea of Ninja Dropouts. High goes to the return of Kakashi, Gaara, and some others I’ve sorely missed. 

  COUNTERS:

Ramen:  7 bowls + 3 cups Hokage: 0 Clones: 28

  Total so far:

Bowls of Ramen: 208 bowls, 20 cups (Wow... that's a lot of ramen!)

“I'm Gonna be Hokage!”: 62

Shadow Clones Created: 940

  And that's everything for this week! Remember that you're always welcome to join us for this rewatch, especially if you haven't watched the original Naruto! Watch Naruto today!

  Here's our upcoming schedule:

- On August 23rd, CAYLA COATS will wrap up our GREAT NARUTO CRUNCHYROLL REWATCH! 

CATCH UP ON THE REWATCH!

Episodes 204-210: Escort Mission Time

Episodes 197-203: Solving a Mystery

Episodes 190-196: Matchmaking Gone Wrong

Episodes 183-189: No Laughter Allowed!

Episodes 176-182: Reach for the Stars!

Episodes 169-175: Anko’s Backstory At Sea

Episodes 162-168: The Tale of the Phantom Samurai

Episodes 155-161: Quickfire Curry

Episodes 148-154: The Forest is Abuzz With Ninjas

Episodes 141-147: Mizuki Strikes Back!

Episodes 134-140: The Climactic Clash

Episodes 127-133: Naruto vs Sasuke

Episodes 120-126: The Sand Siblings Return

Episodes 113-119: Operation Rescue Sasuke

Episodes 106-112: Sasuke Goes Rogue

Episodes 99-105: Trouble in the Land of Tea

Episodes 92-98: Clash of the Sannin

Episodes 85-91: A Life-Changing Decision

Episodes 78-84: The Fall of a Legend

Episodes 71-77: Sands of Sorrow

Episodes 64-70: Crashing the Chunin Exam

Episodes 57-63: Family Feud

Episodes 50-56: Rock Lee Rally

Episodes 43-49: The Gate

Episodes 36-42: Through the Woods

Episodes 29-35: Sakura Unleashed

Episodes 22-28: Chunin Exams Kickoff

Episodes 15-21: Leaving the Land of Waves

Episodes 8-14: Beginners' Battle

Episodes 1-7: I'm Gonna Be the Hokage!

  Thank you for joining us for the Great Crunchyroll Naruto Rewatch! We hope that you'll join us next time as we conclude our Naruto rewatch adventure. Have a wonderful weekend, y'all! 

Have anything to say about our thoughts on Episodes 211-217? Let us know in the comments! Don't forget, we're also accepting questions and comments for next week, so don't be shy and feel free to ask away!

----

Nicole is a features and a social video script writer for Crunchyroll. Known for punching dudes in Yakuza games on her Twitch channel while professing her love for Majima. She also has a blog, Figuratively Speaking. Follow her on Twitter: @ellyberries

  Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[placetobenation]

You may be cool, but are you “David Coverdale tweeted you back” cool?[1]David Coverdale is a riot on Twitter and as the Brits would say he is one cheeky bastard. He has all the charm to make his brand of sleaze, playful and endearing. I highly recommend his twitter to those who love a good double entendre and a whole lotta of innuendo.

However, I am not here to write a 1000 word review of Coverdale’s twitter[2]. I am here to tell how I just had my balls rocked off by Whitesnake tonight at the Hampton Beach Casino Ballroom on their Flesh & Blood Tour. Let’s check the pretension at the door just like Whitesnake do with their new party rocker, “Shut Up And Kiss Me”. The infectious gang chorus has everyone singing along immediately as if the song came out in 1987. David Coverdale still oozes charisma out of every pore and can command a crowd with just his eyes. Bassist, Michael Devin has a great voice is crucial on these choruses and is very entertaining to watch as he rocks out on the bass. The drummer, Tommy Aldridge, looks like the lead singer of REO Speedwagon with his gray, curly, huge afro, but rocks like a man half his age.[3]The twin guitar attack of Reb Beach (Winger[4]) and Joel Hoekstra (Trans-Siberian Orchestra) shred all over this song. Many times, the “new stuff” from these classic rock and metal bands fall flat on their face with the live crowd, but on this night Whitesnake proved an old dog can teach its master, new tricks. 

Whitesnake has some real winners off the Flesh & Blood album, which was officially released the day I attended the concert, May 10th. “Trouble Is Your Middle Name” is the banger off this album, which has you banging your head at the hard rocking chorus and shouting along with the band. The verses feature Coverdale at his raspy, strained bluesy best has he croons over a thumping bassline before kicking it into overdrive into the huge, sing-along chorus.  “Get Up” is a throwback to the foot-stomping, blues-boogie-rock that Whitesnake was founded on, before it took on a metallic sheen in 1987. “Hey You…Make Me Rock” is the heavy metal anthem of the album. It has a really strong guitar lead in, but the chorus is not as catchy as the other tracks played and Coverdale gives an uninspired performance here. He is more at home with blues-based songs or the fun sexy, party rock. After the very successful Doug Aldrich era of Whitesnake, I loved how the Hoestrka/Beach team with Coverdale crafted their own album that captured a distinct, fresh, vivacious and very electric sound. I think that’s what separates this from a lot of songs released by classic bands in the modern day is how lively this music is, which comes from how energetic Hoestrka & Beach sound on this album and live. 

Hoestrka and Beach showed off their chops in a six-minute guitar duel which each tried to out Eddie Van Halen each other as they shredded & finger tapped their way to glory. I have always thought that’s when Whitesnake is at their best when they are the best possible combination of Van Halen and Led Zeppelin. Unfortunately, for Coverdale he may never shake the moniker of “David Coverversion” as dubbed by Robert Plant when Plant flew into a jealous rage over Coverdale/Page album released in 1993[5], which is criminally underappreciated now.  When Coverdale wants he can do Robert Plant better than Robert Plant (see “Pride & Joy” from Coverdale/Page and “Still of the Night”), but Coverdale has a lot more range than his more famous rival. He has more access to his lower register and this gives Whitesnake’s songs a more soulful depth to them. Also, having seen both men live twice since 2010, there is no doubt Coverdale is the better frontman. He is still out there giving a balls out hard rock performance and entertaining the audience while Plant is more concerned with being artist and indulging his own agenda. Coverdale’s voice has also aged better. At the beginning of the concert, I did notice that his singing was not quite as good as I remembered on the Purple Snake tour of 2015. However, I think he was saving his voice up for the big finish. On the last three songs all from the hit 1987 album (“Give Me All Your Love Tonight”, “Here I Go Again” and “Still Of The Night”), he unleashed his full vocal prowess. He left no room for you to doubt it was really him singing as he was screaming like a banshee and belting out each note with vim and vigor. “Still of the Night” remains one of my all-time favorite songs. The hook riff is just pure sex and Coverdale delivers one of his best vocal performances. I fell in love with the song all over again tonight. 

Whitesnake has consistently been one of the best hard rock/heavy metal bands of the last decade. The Purple Album (2015) reminds the world that Coverdale era of Deep Purple is full of classic tracks that stand up well against the Mach II Era Machine Head album. “Burn” and “Stormbringer” feature Ritchie Blackmore at the peak of his powers. Both of those riffs are two of the greatest of all time and it is Coverdale that brings the vocal ferocity to match these pummeling riffs. The Doug Aldrich era saw Whitesnake release their best albums since 1987 with Good To Be Bad (2008)[6]and Forervermore(2011) and have been lauded by those fans that still listen to the new music produced by the classic bands of the genre. The stand out tracks from Good To Be Badare the raucous title track that sounds like “Bad Boys” on steroids and “Can You Hear The Wind Blow” which features Doug Aldrich doing his best Randy Rhodes shredding over the place while Coverdale gives a powerful & dynamic performance and the rhythm section has that classic Whitesnake boogie groove. “Forevermore” is the blues-rock album that returns Whitesnake back to its roots. My favorite is the opening track “Steal Your Heart Away” may be the best pure blues-rock song that Whitesnake has ever released, Coverdale gives a master class on how to hold your attention on the verse before the addictive bridge kicks in, if you have not heard this song, drop what you are doing and give it a spin.  The point is Whitesnake delivered two distinct albums in 2008 (hard rock, heavy metal) and 2011 (blues, ballads) that were phenomenal and they look to deliver another badass album this year with Flesh & Blood.

As you can tell by this glowing review, David Coverdale is one of my favorite singers/frontman in the history of rock. He has worked two of the most important guitarists of all time when he was in Deep Purple in the 1970s and with Jimmy Page on Coverdale Page in 1993. He achieved commercial success on his own working with guitarist John Skyes on the killer 1987 album. He demonstrates that even into the 21stcentury that he can pen some of the best hard rock, heavy metal songs ever that would have been massive hits in the 1980s. His live performance is still engrossing to watch. He has such an amazing stage presence and his eyes are so expressive. Most importantly, a mic stand is still a lethal weapon in the hands of the Snakeman! I highly recommend either picking up the new album, Flesh & Blood or going to see the Flesh & Blood tour in a city near you or just give David Coverdale a follow on Twitter, you won’t regret it. 

[1]“Me too, Bro…we always have a blast together!!!” – David Coverdale to me on Twitter with respect to the Hampton Beach crowd.  

[2]@DavidCoverdale for those so inclined to follow on Twitter.

[3]You must see his drum solo. I forgot all about from when I saw him in 2015. I just remembered the huge, gray, curly afro, but as soon he started rocking on his drum solo I remembered how incredible he is. Rock ‘n’ roll is the fountain of youth.

[4]I saw Kip Winger do an acoustic set of all your Winger favorites in small bar in Worcester and man did it really make want to see a full blown, plugged in, full throttle Winger reunion set. I definitely need to do a review of their monster comeback album Karmafrom 2009. Also, Kip & Reb can we get a full Winger tour already! David stop hogging Reb!

[5]This has to go down as the most successful “make my ex jealous” ploys ever as David Coverdale & Jimmy Page delivered the best Led Zeppelin album since Physical Graffitiand Coverdale blew Plant out of the water on all the live shows doing classic Led Zep songs. This forced Plant’s hand to do Led Zep reunion shows in the mid-90s. 

[6]The year 2008 was a very strong year for classic rock/metal bands releasing new material. I would put Good To Be Badas a strong number three behind Motley Crue’s Saints of Los Angeles and Metallica’s Death Magnetic

[mojput-mypath]

Show must go on! (or how I became a star)

UTTER DISBELIEF

I CANNOT BELIEVE MY JOB IS TO LEARN MORE ABOUT ALL THE COOL THINGS THAT I REALLY LIKE. I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT I AM DOING THINGS I AM GOOD AT AND APPRECIATED FOR IT. I CANNOT BELIEVE I AM PAID TO BE USEFUL AND CREATIVE!

I've gone through some hard-core stuff in the past. I have had such a difficult time beginning of this summer. Is this now the reward? They say that after the storm, the sun shines. It is truly shining through and through for me right now.

I have serious reason to believe that I am in a very good place. Also, my horoscope looks nice. Ra-Sk-Gu. Soon to turn into Ra-Sk-Sa -> for those who can read the astrological-physics formulas. I again have good reason to believe the next few months spent in the Shadow of the Magnificent Saturn will just allow me to come closer to that beautiful empty, yet completely full space inside. When Saturn is around (a little app tells me when that is), I usually speak less, feel more, and just become generally more quiet and internal. My sadhana (meditation) becomes the most beautiful thing to do, and I can spend hours and hours just yogiying out. There is no boredom there. Only one thing I am not so sure I like is that Saturn makes me feel a tiny bit detached, in a way I feel far from people. A tiny bit of sadness keeps coming up in my heart and I can only bear it. Let us see this time how it will be, the sadness might be more bearable. Maybe it is time to transcend it, to see it, but not feel it deep in the hurting heart.

ARTISTE DELUXE

One more thing. I have finally opened up to handling that other people watch me and listen to me sing and play guitar. I know this sounds silly, as I have sung in front of close to or over a thousand people, on more than one occasion. Only at those moments, I kept my eyes closed, and even if they were opened, I kept a part of myself hidden and kept the outer rigidity to show for others. I have now almost completely relaxed to sing and play however, whatever, in front of whoever – and I must admit, it sounds amazing. It feels amazing. It is amazing.

Everything seems to have drastically changed since June. July and August were full of activities and the summer flew by as fast as lightning disappears in the night sky. All of a sudden I was chilling out at home/in Croatia. Beach, sun, forest, breeze, chatting, walking, cooking. All in good measure. Altogether, a period to remember, yet I do not recall much of it except when I make a great effort to tune back to what was.

Then, October. How did that happen? Jumping from June to October. This year brought me so much turmoil, so much doubt in myself, the organisation I felt so connected to, people, lifestyle, world, friends, family… Today to be swept away like none of it was ever there. Such doubt! Such agony! And now. Nothing of it. Like it never happened. I feel like a completely different person, with a completely different life. At the same time, it seems like nothing has changed. It even feels I am more of who I always was and less the personality I grew to exhibit in all these years. Are you following? Sometimes I feel I write in a cryptic way, yet to me it is all clear as quartz.

Is this sensation/feeling/state going to linger? I think yes. G says: when you take 10 steps forward, you can never go back to step 1. Maybe a couple steps of throwback happen, but you never go to the very beginning, the game keeps you a few fields ahead of yourself.

Ukuleles in a shop Freiburg, I might even get me one of these!

BLAST FROM THE PAST

My sad kid story is alcohol and drug-abuse, unnecessary drug-drunk relations. It is not a story of a street thug life nor domestic violence nor abuse. It is just a regular story of divorced parents and living through a bit of war that later resulted as me being the violent one. Many stories I know are far, far worse than mine. Yet, I feel mine is meaningfully terrible to me. I cannot underestimate my experience, even if I rationally chose to. I feel I had an emotionally crap childhood. Parents’ divorce hit me harder than I would ever wish to admit. To this day a ball of anger rises in my chest when I hear of parents being selfish, rather than selfless to the core, in regard to their kids. Yes, I do know each and every life follows a law, as a river needs to flow between two banks. Whatever we do or want, will not necessarily determine what actually happens. I do know. Yet, my heart wants to protect the little “victim me” I see in others.

Then the war. My mother kept me protected as is rarely seen in these situations. Kept us protected by the strength she exhibited in that 3-year period we spent with booms and bangs, running to shelters at odd times. We knew that this is not a normal life situation where you should defy your parents. We obeyed instructions like little soldiers. What she said to do was just law that needed to be followed. It made me feel secure and safe. I felt she knew what to do, and how that fact would keep us away from harm. I remember the exact moment where that strength faltered. It was the exact same moment we left the war-stricken city of Zadar.

The other protection she provided for us was the neutrality she kept, very sincerely, towards, what the media called, the aggressor. I did not feel there was any aggressor. I knew the people fighting had no choice but to fight, even though I could not understand why they were fighting. All the stupid stuff I have ever uttered about the war in my later age was a copy-paste of society and television expressions – but none of it had come from my mother.

Later on, after having changed few cities in a few years, I ended up to be amongst the bad students. It was hard to follow the school programs when you change school every half year. I later felt we were just lazy kids, but now if I look into it, it was more that it was just difficult to cope with all the changing of schools and teachers, systems and kids. We were always the odd ones, and you know how kids can be mean when someone is “different”. I can actually say that I was bullied at school for speaking in a different dialect. I mean, insulted and beaten. Not severely, though. Yet, I always thought that was kind of normal. It was not.

DRUGS ARE NOT SO BAD

Similar with drugs, I always thought it is normal for youth to take drugs, was it not? I came across another person’s story recently, he was more into gang stuff and drugs, but I could totally relate to the story, it was very similar to mine. That reminded me how my story is not ordinary or average. The people I chose to associate with were not so average. What I also found common was that most of the rebel kids were more from well-off families, but also from poor and abusive ones. I have been associated with the Art of Living prison programs and I felt a natural connection to the “naughtiest” of society. I always wanted to work with youth in juvenile prisons, as I felt I can relate to them so easily. I used to be proud of taking drugs from the early age of 13 (LSD and weed at the time), like I was progressive. Now it seems there is not much reason to be proud of trying to ruin my body and mind at the age when the body is still developing.

From a delicate kid, traumatised by divorce, war and bullying, having used sex and drugs to cope – I grew up to have a mission of “saving the world”. At least I think what I do is helping. It seems to help. Some science people say it does. And people here smile a lot. You could also say that I turned to “religion”, because of my drug-alcohol-related past. Maybe. Maybe not.

I always had the ability to chameleon and I think so many things I am interested in are generally weird to people, yet I, myself, I hope, at least do not seem like a complete weirdo. Even though I really am. I listen to Tommy Cash, dude. And I do Art of Living. And healing. I have a Guru. (He’s really cool.) 

Super (cute) G

I don’t speak to my dad so often, but am not super upset with him, just a little tired of his monologues that include attempts of ego-crushing for me. I re-discovered a huge admiration for my mom, with whom I had not such a very close connection at some point earlier in my life. So, everything changes. No way to know what life will bring along.

FORMER CELEBRITY LIFE

I even took part in a youth documentary covering topics like civil freedom, gender equality, addictions, activism etc. called “Direkt”. Needless to say my sister and I starred in a show themed young alcoholics. We shared our story how we have been drinking regularly for many years (it was 2004 and I was 21 – the next year I did my first Breathe SMART course in Art of Living). The same got an award at a Croatian documentary festival (Zagrebdox), which was, as a consequence, shown in smaller cinemas across the country (yes, my mother had seen it as well). I remember getting a call from someone I knew, she told me: “People told me you would be great for a documentary on alcohol.” I was so proud. I was known for having a long-term alcoholic carrier at the age of 21. Someone wanted to film me drinking and talking about booze.

Former addicts, today’s ashram divine sisters

I smile at all this today, but I also think it is fascinating how proud I was of being successful at something, and was well known for it. For my drinking carrier!

How did I think that was alright? How did I think it was a little out of the “average” how I lived?

Well, today I live and want to continue living in an ashram and follow the teachings of a Master. The difference is that now I am well aware it is not quite normal. 

I was always cool, only the reason changed. Don’t you think I’m cool? If you didn’t like me one bit, you would probably not be reading so far, so thank you for supporting me. Love you back, darlings!

Wouldn’t you love to live here?

LINKS IN THIS BLOG:

https://vimeo.com/105639064

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C2zx2i93R44

https://obljetnica.hrt.hr/leksikon/d/direkt/

http://zagrebdox.net/en