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cevans16 · 4 years ago

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I Don’t Hate You, I Like You

Summary: Sebastian seems to get along with everyone except you. Why is that?

You had the role as Tony’s best friend in the Avengers. You had been part of the MCU since the beginning of the franchise. You always got along with the cast, you were real-life best friends with Chris Evans however there was one exception, Sebastian. No matter what you asked him, he always seemed to only give you one word answers, you weren’t sure as to why since you had always been friendly to him.

You guys were reuniting for the next installment of the Avengers. You had arrived earlier from your vacation in Australia with Chris Hemsworth and his family whom had invited you to their place in Byron Bay. You were looking for your best friend Chris Evans but had yet to find him however you did spot Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan. They were both alone conversing with each other, you decided to walk up to say hi, you noticed Sebastian was very talkative with Anthony until he saw you coming up to them. You honestly had enough with him always being quiet when you were around, you didn’t want it to be like this again when filming for the next months so you decided to confront him about it.

“Hey Mackie!” you said pulling him in for a hug, “Hey how’s it going?!” he replied excitedly.

“Good! I just came back from Australia, hey Sebastian” you said smiling up at him. He whispered a shy “Hi” to you while looking down and away from your eyes.

“Soooooo I didn’t know THIS man actually talked” you said to Mackie referring to Sebastian. “What do you mean? He talks all the time!” Mackie said.

“No I have to pull the words out of him when I try to talk to him” you chuckled, you saw Sebastian’s cheeks turn pink but you decided not to comment on it.

“Well its because he’s my friend” Sebastian replied a little harsher than he intended to. You felt yourself gasp at his response, you didn’t understand why he had always been quiet with you but you didn’t know that he disliked you too. Mackie didn’t say anything, he himself was surprised at Sebastian’s remark to you.

“I see, so it’s personal. No worries Sebastian, I guess not everyone can get along right” you said cutting him off when he tried to say something else. “Anyways have you guys seen Evans?” you said looking around for any sign of the Bostonian. Luckily he was coming up to you guys just in time to save you from the awkwardness.

“Heyyyyyy, I’m glad you’re back, you wouldn’t believe the shit that happened to me while you were gone. What’s up guys” he said to you and the boys.

“Tell me about it over snacks” you said instantly pulling him away with you to head towards the snack bar they had set up.

“Fucking shit, what the fuck did I ever do to him” you said annoyed to Chris

“What are you talking about?” he asked you confused

“Sebastian, I thought he was shy but no. I basically asked him why he’s quiet with me and he said well Mackie is my friend in like a douche-y tone. I didn’t do shit to him” you rambled on to Chris while you stuffed your face with a chocolate bar. You noticed his lips curve up in a devilish grin.

“What’s so funny?” you asked him

“You like him don’t you?” he asked. You didn’t like Sebastian, you couldn’t, especially with the way he was towards you. You did think he was a handsome guy and you always felt butterflies whenever you saw him. But no one could know that, not even your best friend.

“Pfttt no he’s not....no” you said stumbling with your words.

“Yeah that was convincing” he snorted.

“Shut up Evans, you’re supposed to be on my side” you said defensively.

“I am but as a best friend I can also tell you have a thing for him, maybe you should tell him” he said.

“Oh fuck off, not after what he said to me five minutes ago....but I DON’T like him” you enunciated the last words.

“You keep telling yourself that sweetheart” he smirked at you. You playfully smacked his shoulder. You turned to look where Sebastian was, he was in the same place you had left him and Mackie. He looked over at you, shyly smiling, you didn’t smile back but returned an eye roll.

The Following Day

You were all cooped up in a van heading towards Jimmy Kimmel’s show. You were sited in between Evans and Hemsworth. The three of you together were chaos in the best way possible; very loud, slightly obnoxious, childish, but the cast wouldn’t have it any other way. The three of you were uncontrollably laughing about something dumb Evans had said, you were to the point of tears.

Sebastian was on the seat behind you next to Mackie. Mackie had noticed that Sebastian always stole glances your way but he never said anything until now.

“You know maybe you should tell her how you feel” Mackie whispered to him

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” Sebastian said in his best way to sound nonchalant.

“You know EXACTLY what I am talking about” Mackie said motioning his head to your direction, “plus you should apologize for yesterday, that was a little fucked up” he said. Sebastian nodded his head in agreement, “I will apologize but that is it” he replied. Sebastian did like you, he liked you a lot but was afraid to overstep any boundaries. He hated that he always froze whenever you would try to talk with him and definitely hated himself for how he responded to you yesterday. He felt like an asshole when he saw the look on your face, he didn’t blame you.

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

“Alright! So you are all going to play musical beers!” Jimmy Kimmel said, next explaining the game. You weren’t much of a beer person but loved to compete so you agreed to participate.

“Okay so the final team is.....Chris Hemsworth, Robert, and (Y/N)” Kimmel said.

Robert, Hemsy and you walked to form your group together.

“We’re going to win” Hemsy said excitedly

“You bet your ass” Robert replied. You were going to say something when you heard Evans taunting you, he was paired up with Sebastian and Mackie. You were really hoping that Evans wouldn’t mention anything about you to Sebastian but you weren’t entirely convinced.

You were going around the circle dancing around when the music stopped, somehow Sebastian mixed up the rules and began to drink from a red solo cup. “Not yet Sebastian!!!” Jimmy yelled at him causing Sebastian to spit out his drink back into the cup, the audience yelled in disgust and laughter. You were laughing about it feeling sorry for the person who would have to drink it.

Ten minutes later it was down to your team and Evans team for the tie breaker. You were moonwalking back and forth when the music abruptly stopped, you realized where you had stopped in front of....Sebastian’s cup. You tried to play it off by slowly moving onto the next part of the circle but Chris Evans being Chris Evans made sure you had to drink it.

“No, nooo sweetie stay where you are” Chris said to you laughing

You turned around for Hemsworth or Downey for any defense, they looked at you with puppy dog eyes hoping you would do it so you could win.

“Just take one for the team” Downey said

“Right since you’re not the one that’s ABOUT TO DRINK SEBASTIAN’S SPIT!” you said

“We are ABOUT TO WIN (Y/N)” Downey yelled back

“FINE, YOU OWE ME” you yelled. The chaos with the situation was causing the audience to erupt in laughter and sympathy for your own situation.

You took a deep breath, grabbing the cup off the table, you turned to look Sebastian dead in his eyes and said “Cheers to your spit” before chugging it down quickly. Sebastian stood there frozen, one he felt bad that out of all people it was you, two he didn’t know why he was turned on by how you took it like a champ.

“It wasn’t that bad” you said chuckling, “WE WIN SUCKERS” you said slamming the cup towards Evans who was rolling his eyes even though he knew you would do it to win.

You, Robert and Hemsworth jumped up and down in excitement for winning, they brought the three of you mini trophies that said ‘Champions of Musical Beers’.

“Yes! And I would love to nominate myself as MVP. It took blood, sweat and spit to win it” you joked.

Once you were done with the show, you all collectively walked towards the nearest bar. You were deep in conversation with Robert about space shuttles while Evans and Mackie were grilling poor Sebastian about his crush on you.

“He doesn’t like her, he lovvesss her” Evans taunted, giving Mackie and opportunity to join in, “And the plus side, she’ll drink your spit”

“Can you guys stop” Sebastian said laughing while he ran his hands through his long hair, “I’m in deep shit aren’t I?”, “YEP” Mackie and Evans replied in unison. They came up with a plan to get you and Sebastian alone.

You walked inside the bar ordering your food while the rest of the cast grabbed a high-top table on the corner of the place. You thought they were there until you only saw Evans drinking the last of his beer there.

“Where’s everyone else?” you asked looking around, Evans turned to you shrugging. You sat next to him, taking a batch of fries into your mouth, you had done the wrong thing in drinking two cocktails first rather than eating.

“This is a cool place huh” Chris said taking his food from you, “Yeah it’s neat” you replied. About five minutes later you were finishing up your fries, Evans taking the occasional one when you noticed Sebastian was heading to your table. You rolled your eyes at the sight of him, he caught that.

“Someone isn’t happy to see me” he commented once he was in front of you and Evans.

“Mhmmm we’re not friends remember” you replied snarkily

Sebastian sighed, “Look about that I am so so-”

“Save the bullshit, we don’t have to get along. Where’s everyone else?” you asked.

He shrugged, “Fuck I know, bathroom, upstairs drinking, some left”

“Well I am going to get another drink want one?” you asked Evans directly, he nodded at you.

“Can I sit with you guys?” Sebastian asked, you looked at Chris who nodded, you shrugged and walked away heading back to the bar. While you waited for your drinks you looked around to see any sign of the rest of your group, no one in sight, where had they gone you asked yourself.

You came back with three drinks, one for you, one for Chris and one for Sebastian, you were annoyed with him but felt bad in not asking if he would like a drink.

You passed the beers to Chris and Sebastian who politely thanked you and was surprised that you knew what he normally ordered.

“I’m leaving back to the hotel” Chris abruptly said

“What, you just said you were having a good time here” you replied

“Nahhh I’m getting sleepy, here Sebs you can have my drink” Chris said pushing the beer over to him. He was about to get up from his seat when you grabbed his arm.

“Wait for me” you said to Chris, you didn’t want to be alone with Sebastian. You didn’t catch Sebastian’s eyes open in panic that their plan was about to fail.

“(Y/N) you still have your drink and Sebastian doesn’t like those so don’t think about passing it over to him” Chris said.

You looked over to Chris and then Sebastian, you picked up your cocktail chugging it quickly before hopping off your seat when you toppled over.

“Whoah, one too many” Chris chuckled catching you in time

“Exactly, I will not be here any longer” you said

“(Y/N), can I talk to you?” Sebastian spoke up loud enough for you to hear.

“WHy you already said sorry remember” you said annoyed to him

“(Y/N) come on” Chris said in defense

“Why, he clearly doesn’t want to be my friend, so I’m not kissing his ass” you said even more annoyed. Chris looked you dead in the eyes, an expression he didn’t give you often but it basically said to not be an asshole.

“Fine, two minutes” you said to Sebastian

“After you” he said getting up from his seat

“I’ll wait for you outside” Chris said to you

You walked ahead of Sebastian towards the restrooms where it was a bit quieter and more private. You stopped to face him, he leaned on the wall fidgeting with the zipper on his jacket, not saying a word. The alcohol in your system had kicked in because you were feeling extra blunt.

“Okay, here’s the thing Sebastian. I get along with everyone, I love to hang out with you guys, we work so much and it never feels exhausting. I tried to be your friend the moment I met you, what I did to you I have no fucking clue, but we are not in elementary or high school for you to be a dick to me” you said.

You calling Sebastian a dick irked him, that wasn’t him, he didn’t want you to think that about him.

“I’m not a dick, you’re not entirely nice to me” he said

“That’s bullshit, I tried to talk to you the most polite way. What you want me to get on my fucking knees and suck your dick?!” you said feeling yourself get agitated with him.

“Uhhhh yes” he blurted out, oh shit he thought.

“Excuse ME?! Fuck this” you said walking away from him.

“(Y/N)! Fuck I’m sorry that’s not what I meant, yes I do, noooo, okay shut up for a second Sebastian” he started rambling following you out the bar. You quickly walked towards Chris who had in fact waited for you. The look he saw on your face wasn’t good, he knew he wouldn’t hear the end of it for doing this to you.

“He wants me to suck his fucking dick” you exasperated to Chris. Chris laughed at the comment but was confused to how the conversation went there.

“(Y/N) stop please” you heard Sebastian say, “What?!” you yelled at him this time.

“I don’t hate you....I like you. I thought you were fucking gorgeous the moment I met you but I don’t know why you make me so fucking nervous that I freeze, I’m afraid I am going to say the wrong shit like I just did two fucking seconds ago back there. I like you more than a friend and being a dick is not an excuse, I didn’t mean for yesterday to sound mean. I am so sorry and I hope you forgive me” he said exhaling loud at the end.

“Annnnnddd?” Chris added in

“Fuck.... and I hope you would like to go out on a date with me...please” Sebastian said to you more quietly and shy this time.

“Let me try this first” you said walking to Sebastian, you pulled his face down to yours to kiss him. His lips were soft, the taste of alcohol and the smell of his cologne intoxicated you more than you already were. He kissed you back passionately, cupping his hands around your face, you guys fought over dominating each others tongue until you won by tugging his hair.

“Uhmmmmm guys” you heard Chris pull you out of your intimate moment. You pulled back to look at him and realized the rest of the cast was there.

“Well I fucking walked in to an amazing show” Robert joked.

You laughed, feeling yourself blush, you weren’t one for PDA. You turned to look at Sebastian who was blushing just the same.

“So is that a yes on a date?” he asked you

“Definitely a yes, although I won’t suck your dick” you teased him. He gasped at you saying that out loud in front of the cast.

“Well YET” Lizzie said unexpectedly

“Lizzie?!?!!” you yelled over to her

“Whatttt? You already drank his spit, swapped it with each other” she said shrugging.

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagines #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x latina reader

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canonicallysoulmates · 3 years ago

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Just saw your post about the post phase 1 Marvel movies and the meme you used for CA:CW. So I'm here to ask and get you cancelled. What did you think about the movie? Are you Team Stark or Team Rogers?

........................................................I knew this day would come......okay, let's get me cancelled!

I hate this movie, I hate this movie with every fiber of my being. Watching it was torture, it as the longest 20hrs of my life. It was like living out one of those very confusing math problems I started this movie at 10am somehow 6pm rolls around and there are still 2hrs left! Coño cómo?! I watched this with my mom, and when we checked how much time was left we were left looking at each other like 'que carajo what twilight zone bullshit is this?' It's one of those Marvel movies that I am so glad I did not waste my money on, I wish I could get a refund for my time but I made my choice and I shall now have to deal with it.

I hate this movie for many reasons but I'm not gonna make y'all wait any longer for what you're really here for because I know what y'all really want to know is whether I am Team Iron Man or Team Captain America. When it comes to the political aspects ie. the Accords, I am Team Neither.

Now, I cannot get into a comprehensive debate about the Accords because the writers did a shitty ass job, in a 2 and a 1/2 hour movie that felt like a lifetime, at explaining what exactly the Accords are in the movie universe. Emphasis on the movie universe, because I have seen debates go on in this motherfucking fandom where some people will bring up aspects from the comics Registration Acts but we're not talking about the comics okay, we're talking about the movies! And they're two fucking different things! And the movie did a shitty ass job at explaining what the Accords are, and that's one of the reasons I hate this movie: that it's so badly written.

But back to the point, which is where I stand on the teams when it comes to the politics, I am Team Neither because ultimately they were both idiots on how they handled this, and I think they both have good points like yes the Avengers and other superheroes should 100% be held accountable if they fuck up, the fact that they are superheroes and the "good guys" doesn't mean that their actions shouldn't have consequences but at the same time Steve's mistrust of the government and concerns that the team and others could be weaponized are also valid so I think they both have good points when it comes down to it and the smart thing to do - and in my opinion what would have made a much better film- would have been to come together and make like a counterproposal, decide on amendments, try to ensure they can get a representative so they have a voice on the table.

So, there you go when it comes to the Accords I am Team Neither however when it comes to the characters and their actions I am 1,000% Team Tony. At the end of the day he wanted to do what was best for both people and for his team, he wanted to keep the team together because he knew they were stronger together, and he was thinking long term not short term.

And then there's Steve who is an asshole in this film and completely lacks self awareness, cause there's a scene in the film after they've found out about the Accords where Steve goes "that's because he already made up his mind" about Tony and I'm just like bitch so did you, pot meet kettle, Rogers you knew from the get go that you weren't going to sign those papers don't go acting different and then like- here's the thing Steve has some very good points when it comes to the Accords but one of his points is that the UN is filled with people with agendas and agendas change which true but also motherfucker you yourself have an agenda! The whole Sokovia mess is an example that they cannot be trusted to hold themselves or each other accountable because inevitably the time will come where they'll want to protect their team mate like we see in this movie Steve do with Bucky, or how he wanted to protect Wanda because he looks at her as if she were a child not an adult. Steve, you lot are not exempt from having your own agendas and biases.

And through pretty much the entire movie, he has this whole my way or the highway attitude like this man does not know the meaning of compromise in this film, and he has such tunnel vision for Bucky- and listen! listen, listeeeeeen, I get it, I don't judge Steve for making his bestie a priority; I understand that Bucky is incredibly important to Steve, that he's the one person who's gonna look at him as just Steve and not as the Steve Rogers, I get that he carries a guilt over what happened to his friend, I understand he misses him, I understand all of that and respect the ride or die game but goddamn he was so focused on being a good friend to Bucky that he forgot about everyone and everything else and was a shit friend to Tony.

Actually a lot of people in this film were shit to Tony for no goddamn reason but Steve was such a shitty friend not telling Tony about his parents, that was a shitty ass thing to do and listen! I know what some of y'all are thinking you're thinking some version of 'he wanted to protect Tony' shut the fuck up. No, no, that's an excuse and it's a cheap one, you know damn well that was a shitty thing for Steve to do and y'all know damn well you would have reacted the same way Tony did if someone who you thought was your goddamn friend knew about something horrible that happened to people that were important to you and they never told you; that kind of shit hurts, and finding out someone you thought of as a friend doesn't care about you as much as you care about them hurts.

And y'all know goddamn well how emotions work, you know emotions aren't gonna wait for the rational brain to kick in don't some of y'all go playing dumb as if you didn't know this shit. Same way deep down all of y'all know Tony was holding his punches, that man gave Thanos a fight and got some blood if he had wanted to kill Bucky he would have. Don't none of y'all motherfuckers try to play games and act like you don't know this info.

Steve was a shit friend to Tony. Period. The least he could have done is have some empathy or compassion towards Tony when he saw his parent's being killed- and I swear to motherfucking god to the person who is getting close to their keyboard thinking of saying he showed compassion by not killing him back the fuck away from your motherfucking keyboard what did I tell you about playing stupid, this is properly tagged, stay in your fucking lane. Some of y'all be acting as if it were still 2016 and we're gonna be talking about that too, anon wanted my opinion on this film so now I'm going off.

Back to what I was saying, in some ways Steve wasn't a perfect friend to Bucky either cause he kept looking at Bucky and thinking of the guy he used to know but Bucky's not that person anymore, he's been through a lot of shit and it feels at times like Steve didn't fully realize that.

I hate Steve in this movie, I wanna punch him in the throat; he's an ass, he thinks he's above the rules, he's unaware of his own flaws, he might be a good friend to Bucky but that's it. I don't blame Steve though I blame the writers cause they're the ones who wrote him this way; moving on from Steve, I wanna talk about Wanda real quick, I don't hate the character of Wanda but I do hate the way she was written in this film, I hate that the writers expect us as an audience to look at this adult and think of her as a defenseless child who should be exempt from consequences, I hate that instead of actually doing something with her and exploring some interesting dynamics they just give her an AI boyfriend and a pinterest quote which sounds nice but falls flat especially considering she says said quote as she uses her powers (which is what people are afraid of) to send her love interest down several floors of a building. They could have done so many cool and interesting things with her, shame they didn't.

Another thing I hate about this film is what it did to the fandom, and how it was promoted because it was very much promoted as a pick your fighter, pick a side type of movie and after this movie came out I feel like the divide between Tony fans and Steve fans grew toxically and the effects are still seen to this day like some people really do be acting as if it were still 2016 and attacking others for what side they went with or for who their fav between the two is, and I'll be very honest a lot of the hate I have seen has been directed towards Tony and Tony fans. I hate that, I hate when TPTB deliberately pits fans against each other cause it just encourages a toxic environment.

Let me think was there anything that I liked about this film- wait, oh my god talking about all these other things I hate almost made me forget the thing I hate the most about this movie: it's pointless. Its existence is unnecessary; the biggest aspect of this film isn't the politics of the Accords, it's Steve and Bucky and how far Steve is willing to go for Bucky and have him by his side...but Endgame exists. The end of Endgame turns this film pointless, because the only true point of this movie is the relationship between Steve and Bucky that's the biggest takeaway from the whole thing, but then you have the end of Endgame where Steve just leaves Bucky.

I hated this film before I saw Endgame but after.....I never plan to watch Civil War again but if I did I'm pretty sure I'd self combust cause I'd be so angry I'd scream every time Steve appeared cause that son of a bitch ends up leaving; tears the whole team apart only to end up leaving his friend behind in the end.

I hate this film, I hate everything about it, well that's not true I love the Tony and Peter stuff, but aside from a couple of things I hate this movie, someone give me time stone I'm eliminating it from the timeline.

So, there you go those are my thoughts on CA: CW.

In conclusion, I am Team Neither on the Accords, Team Tony on everything else, Steve I still like you but this movie demoted you in my eyes and makes me wanna punch you in the throat.

#i clearly had a lot to say #anon do you see the pandora's box you've opened #anti captain america civil war #anti civil war #anti cacw #steve rogers critical #pro tony stark #mcu negativity #mcu fandom critical #wanda maximoff critical #anti steve rogers #i'm not anti steve but i did say this post would be properly tagged #non spn #anon #ask #long post

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dgcatanisiri · 3 years ago

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I don’t like that these high profile incidents of trials and such turn EVERYONE into an armchair psychologist who’s diagnosing all sorts of things about someone based on what has to be one of the worst days of their lives in general, but I REALLY dislike the way that this only exacerbates the strict dichotomy of “[person X] is the good guy/[person Y] is the bad guy!”

Like... How can it EVER be that simple? A victim in survival mode will do anything to protect themselves, from minimizing what they’ve gone through to complete disassociation, and yes, even to retaliation.

And people still want a “perfect victim,” someone who conforms to our ideas of what victimhood is supposed to look like, and, if they do not, that automatically confirms that they are and have always been lying.

Honestly, we have no business having these be a public spectacle. WHOEVER the victim is in these cases, we just exacerbate all their trauma by putting it on display for everyone to see, PARTICULARLY when it’s so damn easy for the public to diminish what the victims go through, dismiss their status as victims and survivors, elevate their abusers, actively side with them because THEY manage to “perform” victimhood “better” in the eyes of the public.

Cuz, y’know, abusers DO that - they play the wounded party, they make themselves into the victim, and gaslight their victims into believing that they actually ARE to blame. Like... How often do people around domestic violence cases say that they had no idea what was happening behind closed doors? Or even how often do we hear from people who’ve suffered that their abusers got ahead of things by coming up with lies to their friends and family that made them side with the abuser?

Not to mention the cases of mutual toxicity - that a relationship was just doomed from the start, that it was always something that would go off the rails, and ends up becoming a case where both people end up being awful to one another in a game of escalation as a result until the cycle gets broken by SOMETHING? That the people involved just end up bringing out the worst in each other until they finally manage to just break things off?

But even beyond that... How many times do we have to learn the lesson that our armchair psychiatry is based in nothing but stereotypes, assumptions, misinformation, and downright bullshit biases? A couple of months ago, Sarah Z did a video essay on the Panopticon Effect surrounding an incident on TikTok involving “West-End Caleb,” and how all of this kind of armchair analyses can damage people who, on the basis of a few seconds of video, become the center of social media armchairs’ deciding that they’re lying, they’re cheating, they’re secretly serial killers, whatever, purely on the basis of their obsessive observation of those precious few seconds of footage.

And, in many of these cases, the armchair psychoanalyses? Are complete bullshit extracted directly from the analyzer’s anus. They judge a trans woman dancing as being “a man in a dress, probably a serial killer.” An autistic person doesn’t make eye contact and is uncomfortable on film? They’re hiding something from someone, and, because the conversation being filmed flows in a certain direction, it can be anything from cheating on a partner to repressed feelings to any number of things. A boyfriend gets a surprise visit from their partner and doesn’t respond JUST. SO.? Must be cheating.

WE MAKE THESE ASSUMPTIONS AND WE’RE USUALLY WRONG. And yes, I’m acknowledging that I’m just as prone to this as anyone else, I am not immune to propaganda, etc. etc. Thing is, my awareness of this keeps me from jumping right in to the fray. Which... The way I’m seeing things go on social media, that’s not what a lot of these people are doing. They’re not trying to examine their own biases, just jump straight to “[X] is clearly lying, obviously they were abusive to [Y]” or “[Y] is clearly fake crying on command, they must have made it all up to smear [X].”

*sigh* I am REALLY tired of having all of this take up time and space in my head, and yet social media ENCOURAGES this shit, because algorithms demand engagement. I’m sick of it. Honestly, the world would be a better place if we all deleted Twitter and probably TikTok while we’re at it.

#dg rants

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365days365movies · 4 years ago

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January 22, 2021: The Secret Garden (1993)

I KNOW that I’ve read this book. Right?

You know that book that you were supposed to read in middle school, and supposedly did read, but then don’t remember...AT ALL? Like, 5th, 6th grade, especially. Let’s see, there’s Island of the Blue Dolphins (vaguely remember that one), Where the Red Fern Grows (ugh, dog books. They all end the same), From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler (kind of remember that one), Anne of Green Gables (nope, completely gone), The Phantom Tollbooth (inhabits my head rent-free 24-7; RIP Norton Juster, he signed a collector’s edition for me once), A Wrinkle in Time (ditto), Bridge to Terabithia (which I read when I was 8, so...yikes), The Indian and the Cupboard, so on and so forth.

The Secret Garden is totally one of those, right?

Gonna be honest with you guys, I remember NOTHING about this story. But, it’s a fantasy movie, it’s a British classic, it’s been made into a few films...I feel like I owe it to me child self to try and remember this thing. And hey, maybe this movie’ll jog those memories a little, right?

Well, let’s do it! Let’s just jump in! I’m in the mood for some gardening! Hell, it’s the perfect day for it, given that it’s the first day of spring! So, let’s go! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

We start in an unexpected place: a desert. Apparently (and much to my surprise), this is India, the birthplace of Mary Lennox (Kate Maberly).

Mary is a 10-year-old English girl, unhappy with her life in India. Her father is always away, and her mother has parties, to which she’s never invited, and has never truly experienced love from them. She’s always angry, but can never cry, as she’s never learned how. But as unhappy as she is, she’s still greatly affected when a massive earthquake topples her home, and kills her parents. And with that, the orphaned Mary is set to England, where nobody is there to pick her up.

Until, of course, the late arrival of Mrs. Medlock (Maggie Smith), the head housekeeper of Mary’s uncle, Lord Craven. Mrs. Medlock is a harsh woman in her own right, and basically insults Mary RIGHT in front of her, and not even to her face. Jesus, this is a charming family, huh? They make their way to the expansive manor, where Mary also learns that her maternal aunt (and her mother’s twin sister) has died, leaving Craven bereft and broken.

The next morning, Mary gets a harsh awakening when she finds that she’s not going to get the pampering she’s been accustomed to for her entire life, nor is she likely to even meet her uncle at any point. It’s a massive change from India, that’s for sure. This is intensified by her exploration of the house, which she describes as dead, as if a spell was cast on it. And this place is indeed pretty spooky. Vast and expansive, yet empty and unused.

She stumbles upon her aunt’s room, identical to that of her late mother, and continues where wandering through the mansion. She hears someone crying, only to run into Mrs. Medlock, who tries to tell her that it’s only dogs that she heard, and hurriedly rushes her back to her room. Shortly afterwards, she meets Martha Sowerby (Laura Corssley), the kind young servant of Mrs. Medlock, and now the attendant for Mary herself.

Martha seems like a nice girl, but her first interaction with the stuck-up Mary goes poorly at first, with Martha’s very talkative mannerisms rubbing Mary the wrong way. But, after an argument, Mary acquiesces a bit, and Mary learns that her uncle will eventually want to speak with her. But when is...unknown.

One day, after learning about Martha’s younger brother Dickon, Mary is allowed to go outside to explore the grounds, and to find the garden. There, she finds a walled-in garden of ivy, which belonged to her late aunt that died 10 years prior. She learns this information from Ben Weatherstaff (Walter Sparrow), the gardener, who states that the only thing that gets in the garden now is a European robin (Erithacus rubecula). Which we had those here, but I still like American robins (Turdus migratorius).

As Mary tries to get information from the robin, a young man spies her talking to him, and runs away to a white horse. The next day, Martha gives Mary a jump rope, which she actually appreciates, once she learns how to use it. She goes out to the garden, where she meets the gardener and the robin again, and the robin has apparently decided to be friends with Mary, And so, I name this robin Christopher (a European robin), BECAUSE I CAN, DON’T @ ME

She again asks Christopher how to get into the Hundred-Acre Garden, and he takes her through the wall of the garden. However, she still cannot get past the gates, as there’s a lock needed. However, Mary goes back to the house and grabs it, as she’d previously discovered the key’s location. And so, she makes it into the garden.

Said garden is sadly mostly dead, but you can see the former splendor of the garden despite that. She makes her way through the dried plants, and finds a MASSIVE complex there. It was clearly quite the place ten years ago, and Mary agrees She even finds plants growing there again, as she and Christopher walk around. Also, are European robins not migratory? Because it seems like this is fall, and Christopher should’ve moved on by now. Just looked it up, and they’re apparently resident in England and Ireland. Go figure!

Mary keeps going back to the secret garden (ROLL CREDITS), and she one day meets Dickon (Andrew Knott), the younger brother of Martha, and a keeper on animals on the property. Upon seeing him speak with Robin, she reluctantly invites him to see the Secret Garden, as he claims that he can determine whether or not it’s alive. He can, and he does, and the two form a friendship in the garden.

We also learn from Dickon that Mary’s aunt died by accident, falling off of a swing in the garden, which we previously saw surrounded by dead leaves. Some good direction, that was.

That night, Mary has a dream about her mother, beckoning her into the garden when she’s only a baby. She wakes up from the dream, and hears the mysterious crying person from earlier, cascading down the hallways. About as curious as I am about this, she wanders around, and finds the source of the crying: Mary’s cousin, Colin Craven (Heydon Prowse).

Colin is the son of Lord Craven and Mary’s aunt, and a very melancholy young man. He can’t get any sleep, and when Mary has the idea to fetch Mrs. Medlock to help, he asks her not to, as she will not let the two talk, and he’s terrifically lonely. They share things about their mother, and about themselves. Colin’s a very troubled young man, who’s spent his whole life in bed. He’s also been told that his mother died in childbirth. Curious.

The next day, Mary and Dickon are again attending to the garden, and Mary shares that she’s met Colin, which very few people can claim. She continues to spend more time with Colin, who is convinced that he’s fated to die, and has never even learned to walk. Just like Mary, Colin has been spoiled all his life as well, and has been told how fragile he is all of his life. Medlock also insists that people wear masks whenever they’re...near him. Well. That’s terrifyingly relevant, innit?

Mary is nearly caught spending time with Colin, which is forbidden to all but a select few, and Martha discovers her instead. Both of them ask her to leave, so she can avoid being caught. Soon afterwards, Lord Craven returns to the estate, after having been away for a very long time. And FINALLY, Mary gets to meet Lord Archibald Craven (John Lynch), a deeply unhappy man who is extraordinarily melancholy as well. However, his spirits are slightly lifted when he meets Mary, who’s the spitting image of her mother and aunt.

During their somewhat awkward meeting, Mary manages to get the Lord to unknowingly give her the garden to plant her garden in. He states that he’ll again be leaving for the winter, and the excited Mary immediately goes to tell Dickon that they’ll be allowed to plant in the garden. Nature appears to comply, as it begins to rain to help the garden grow.

Mary continues to bond with both the down-to-earth Dickon, and the spoiled-rotten Colin. In the case of Colin, he’s also quite unhappy because his father never comes to see him. Mary learns that this is because his father is afraid to fall in love with him, and afraid to lose him like he lost his wife. But he actually regularly visits him, while Colin is asleep.

He leaves that night, and as soon as the spring is set to arrive. And arrive it does, and the garden grows even greater. Mary, at this point, has also mostly abandoned her previously spoiled and ill-tempered ways. But not her stubbornness, as seen when she gets Dickon to help rip off the boards from Colin’s windows, exposing him to the sun and opening the windows.

Mary goes to help Dickon, but Colin FREAKS THE FUCK OUT, throwing a massive fit that nobody can seem to stop. But Mary is DONE with his goddamn bullshit, and finally snaps him out of it. Just then, Medlock sees this and blames Martha for letting Mary in, slapping her in the face! Goddamn, Medlock! But Colin’s seemingly also had enough, and sends Mrs. Medlock out! She complies, although she fears that this will be the death of him.

Colin now realizes that he probably isn’t dying after al, and Mary now tells him about his mother’s garden. These stories invigorate Colin, and with the help of Mary and Dickon, he goes outside for the first time, and they take him to the The Secret Garden.

Also, can I just say, there are a FUCKTON of animals on this property, and I have no idea why. They’re DIckon’s animals, apparently, but there are a lot of animals there, just saying.

After quite a bit of hard work, Dickon and Mary have made the The Secret Garden something...well, frankly, kind of magical. It’s beautiful, especially now that spring has arrived, and it makes me want to go outside. Unfortunately, it’s fuckin’ 43 °F right now, and I have work in, like, an hour, so I’ll have to wait for a warm weekend.

Colin is as in love with the garden as I am, and wants to come back the next day. But their reverie is somewhat interrupted by the arrival of the gardener, who is surprised to see Colin out of the house, as he’d heard that he was completely unable to walk. And Colin disproves this by standing up in his chair, for possibly the first time. And from there, the group invites the gardener in the maintain the garden as well. Also, Colin starts to think that the garden is magic, and also sort of proposes to his cousin, which is weird (and Mary points this out), but whatever, moving on (for now).

They visit the garden over and over, and Colin eventually teaches himself to walk. He wants to show his father, but they don’t quite know how to find him. In snooping about for an address where they could find him, they find photographs of him and Colin’s mother, which then makes me realize...when does this movie take place? The original book by Frances Hodgson Burnett was written in 1911, and takes place at that time. And knowing that now, the fashions are pretty Edwardian England. Hadn’t really thought about it, but yeah, that seems about right.

They actually find an old camera and take pictures of each other. Also, there’s totally a scene where Mary and Dickon look at each other a liiiiiiittle too long, and Colin gets jealous, but WE’RE GONNA IGNORE THAT (FOR NOW) AND MOVE ON. Mrs. Medlock still believes that Colin’s sick, despite his insistence to the contrary, and forbids him to go to the garden. Mrs. Medlock is basically going through Munchhausen’s by Proxy at this point, and blooms into a full-fledged villain here.

Not that it matters too much, as the three kids eventually a way to escape. And they decide to try and summon Colin’s dad with...well, with a magic ritual. OK. They go to the garden, set a fire, and chant around it, with the intent to bring Lord Craven back to the manor via mystic means, so that Colin can show him his progress. But that’s not going to work...right?

Actualy...it might. Because Craven ends up having a dream of Lilias Craven (Irène Jacob), his late wife and Colin’s mother, whose name I only know NOW because of subtitles. In the dream, she is calling to him from the garden, and when Craven wakes up, he leaves without hesitation and heads back to the manor immediately, to the surprise of EVERYBODY.

Freaking the absolute fuck OUT, he goes to Mrs. Medlock to find his son, only to find that he’s no longer in his bed. Mrs. Medlock insists that Mary is killing Colin with her wild ways, and has no regard for his fragile state of being. He asks to be taken to her, and they discover that she’s also gone, having somehow escaped a locked room. And that is when Martha suggests that they’re in the garden.

Medlock insists that she’s done her absolute best, but Craven angrily rebukes her. She resigns on the spot, and breaks down on the stairs as Craven goes to find his son. Martha, even faithful and ever kind, comforts Mrs. Medlock, who really was trying her best, despite her rough ways of doing so. Meanwhile, Craven makes his way to the garden, where he finds his son walking and happily playing. He’s overjoyed by the sight of his totally fine son, and Colin is excited back. The father and son are FINALLY united.

But Mary is...less happy. As she sees Colin happily reunite with his father, she runs off, with Dickon in hot pursuit. She believes that nobody wants her, and that she’s now destined to be abandoned again. However, she’s eventually followed by Colin and Craven, and Craven asks why she’s so upset.

She believes that the garden will be closed again, now that Craven’s discovered it, and that she will be cast to the wayside. But that couldn’t be farther from the truth, as Craven welcomes both the garden and Mary into their family to stay. Which is...lovely. It’s quite frankly a lovely turn of events. Together, they head back to the manor, where Medlock gets to see Colin walking, which she actually didn’t believe was possible. The entire household is brought out of their melancholy, Medlock included. And the garden is now open permanently. And Mary closes us out with this line:

If you look the right way, the whole world is a garden.

...I’m not crying. I’m not. My eyes are a little misty, but I’m not crying. But, uh...I’m gonna go outside. That was The Secret Garden! See you in the Review.

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onisionisacanceronthisearth · 5 years ago

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Why we care about Onision and Coolguykai’s kids (Masterlist)

There’s a lot of information floating around about the kids but I don’t know if anyone has made a post compiling it all together so I figured I would do so. Also because an “argument” used again the anti-o community is that “we’re creepy for even thinking about kids” so I figured I’d show that we’re not just thinking about them for no real reason. For some slight background information, they have an older son around age 7 and a younger daughter around age 4. This is written in bullet form under the cut with bold sections for easier/quicker reading for those who would prefer that. Feel free to add more if you know anything and I’ll keep updating this post. Eli=Kai

Update: The girl fell 12 feat out the second story window to the ground giving her a depressed skull fracture. This was because Kai was cooking and left the child alone in a room with the tv and a caprisun while they were cooking and James was in the garage. The right side of her head was caved in and requires constant monitoring. The girl was known to climb the furniture and also known for standing at windows by the couple which is why the windows are supposedly kept locked to protect her. Even then, she was left totally without supervision and fell as far as she did right onto the driveway. She may have serious brain damage. James filmed her body while Kai comforted her because he was paranoid it would be seen as his fault (the video wouldn’t absolve him of anything, he’s just an low IQ dumbass). James also made a lot of awful sexually themed tweets while he was in the hospital with his potentially dying daughter. Here and here are links to the full police report, the daughter’s name was redacted due to her age

Greg refuses to talk with children who cannot speak properly yet. Besides the obvious stupidity behind this (children learn to talk from being spoken to), giving a child the impression that they are only recognized for what they can do for their parents is an emotionally damaging thing to do. It’s also damaging to show emotional neglect which Greg is doing by not caring for his children beyond the uses he has for them

Greg and Eli will have sex in front of their kids and while sharing a bed with them. Early exposure to sex is harmful for kids and despite the obvious fact that Greg isn’t a dom, he still does have rough and harmful sex with Eli and the other girls they bring in for threesomes. We have seen the marks on Eli’s neck, we now know those kids likely have seen Greg give them to him. There was an incident where the boy was in the room on a tablet while his parents were going at it right in front of him as well as the now infamous story that the first time Sarah had a threesome with the couple (Greg and Eli suddenly started having sex without Sarah’s knowledge or consent then she joined after), the daughter was in the bed with them too. They would start and stop sex as the girl kept waking up because they were right beside her on the same bed

During a blackout once, Eli decided to vlog about it. In the video you can see one of the children under the table with a tablet shining in their eyes. Instead of comforting the kids they were told to hide under the table with a tablet while their parents vlogged about it. The parents then promptly went out to eat. It’s unsure if the kids went with them (we didn’t see them in the vlog) so either the kids were out with them while their parents spoke quite vulgar in the car, or the “loving” parents left their two very young children alone at home during a blackout with nothing but some tablets to keep them happy

Overall it does seem like the parents think that tablets are an adequate babysitter for toddlers. Even if that toddler isn’t in the same room as them. That is very obviously not safe nor a good substitute for caring for a child. Given the accident the girl had, it’s clear they think that if they leave an active toddler in a closed room, totally out of sight, with a tv that that’s safe

They chose to parent their children using the “gentle” and “attachment” parenting techniques. They do not implement these styles properly however on top of the possible negative effects of these parenting techniques. This has resulted in:

Not ending breastfeeding at an appropriate time or with the proper care required for prolonged feeding

Breastfeeding at night without brushing teeth afterwards resulting in the boy losing his teeth at age 2

The boy not being told to not be physically violent with his sister or dealing with the child’s violence but instead instructing him to punch Greg instead (the boy will push his sister off the couch for example).

Sleeping with the children despite the couple clearly wanting sex constantly as mentioned above

And all the other complications of never telling your child no, never introducing new things to them or imposing rules or restrictions, having one parent refuse to give you boundaries while another that doesn’t even care to talk to you half the time, etc. The parenting style is meant to be gentle, but this results in, as stated above, not telling the children not to hurt people either

The children supposedly only had one friend (or at least the boy did) which was Maddie’s daughter. Greg and Eli spontaneously decided to end their relationship with Maddie resulting in their son losing his only friend and playmate. Given the nature of the split from Maddie, it’s clear their son was not a factor in the decision at all (not saying you have to remain friends with someone for the sake of your kids but the decision to drop Maddie was bullshit and clearly selfish)

While baby sitting his and Maddie’s kids, Greg refused to change Maddie’s daughter’s diaper and didn’t even bother telling Maddie about the diaper being full. This resulted in Maddie coming back to find her daughter covered in feces and it had been on her daughter long enough that the resulting rash caused her daughter to bleed. Greg clearly doesn’t give a shit about babies (no pun intended) and makes me wonder how often his children’s diapers were messy and he did nothing about it

The Jackson house is FILTHY and not suitable for children. Just recently I posted one of Eli’s videos and it contained a part where Eli saw the dog walking around with food in its mouth that Eli didn’t even know where it came from and not even phased by it. Food being left out is a mold and bacterial hazard on its own, very harmful for children. But it’s also teaching kids bad habits and also if the dog could find it, kids could too and toddlers love putting things in their mouths

Greg used to have a large sex doll that had no business being in a small house with children running around with no supervision

Greg’s initial wetland work created a direct line to the lake they live on, that’s a serious drowning hazard, especially for someone who didn’t think he could watch to make sure his kids wouldn’t walk to a tree that could hurt them. He has also now planted (or at least bought) poisonous bright red berries among a bunch of edible ones. So much for worrying about the kids...

The diet of the Jackson family is atrocious. It’s already showing negative effects on the parents but that is much less dangerous than having malnutritioned children. The children are growing and developing and they require proper nutrition for this, not doing so can result in many dangerous complications on top of both mental and physical stunting of growth.

Update: Greg’s daughter has been seen recently in a video and yes, she is crazy small for her age

Greg has been reported as yelling at his child and blaming said child for “causing them to lose” a game. This was reported by Maya while the three of them were playing a video game and were teamed up together. Greg literally yelled at his toddler for not being perfect at a fucking video game not only turning the game into being about winning, but putting expectations on a child that just should not be the case. As a parent, and even as a younger sibling it can even be beneficial to let them win because otherwise it would be unfair to play any games with them, especially those requiring larger amounts of skill. You wouldn’t expect David Beckham to play soccer with his kids with the same vigor he’d play professionally would you? And if you’re playing a game as a team with your kid and you want to win, it’s up to you to play better to make up for the obvious difference in skill when a toddler is playing

Speaking of Maya, when yelling at her for refusing his advances he spontaneously laid on her without her consent and with no real warning (it was intended for her to be another one of Eli’s girlfriends and she was brought over, as far as she knew, to meet with Eli to see if they were compatible in person), Greg was actually holding his child and running in and out of the room screaming at her. The subject matter alone was inappropriate for a child to hear (Greg asking why she was not sexually attracted to him because “everyone was” for example), let alone being carried by a screaming man running around the house. It almost seemed as if Greg decided to use his child as a human shield because there was no other reason for him to pick up a child to bring to a room where he was going to scream at a young woman. The child couldn’t even leave if he wanted to because he was being held

There was audio in the background of one of Eli’s videos where you can hear Greg scream to “take some fucking responsibility for once”. This was either directed at one of his very young children, or yelled at someone else in the house or on the phone loud enough for the children to hear. Again, not a good environment for these children to grow up in

During a livestream the boy once entered the room to tell Greg that he loved him, Greg didn’t respond back in kind. I get that Greg likely wanted to get the kid out of the livestream for his so-called privacy, but that doesn’t stop him from from quickly responding to the kid while doing so. Especially in a private livestream with people who know of your kids and are waiting in line to enter into the household as a third

The children get to watch Eli flinch and otherwise act scared of Greg, they may not understand it, but their brains will remember this. It is also encouraging them to be more scared of their father than they already likely are

James gets mad if Kai turns on the heat even in January. Toddlers and children can be quite sensitive to the cold and it doesn’t matter how he feels, what matters is his children (which clearly isn’t how he feels)

Update: A recent video of the girl has shown that her hair is a sad mess. At that age the girl’s hair should be bright, shiney, and healthy looking. Unfortunately it is unkempt and dull. It would look like her hair is washed too often with bad products and not brushed as it should be on top of visual signs of deficiencies leading to unhealthy hair. I’d take a potshot and assume this child were deficient in amino acids and other healthy fats if she were brought to me (disclaimer: I cannot officially diagnose anyone over the internet). It may also be due to her horrific accident

#onision #coolguykai #laineybot #onision and his kids

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peeterparkr · 5 years ago

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limits of desire⤳t.h.||17

chapter 17: tying the knot.

story summary: you met Tom a night he was trying to sleep with you, it didn’t work and you became best of friends. Wedding bells might be ringing for when you both realize what you really feel.

summary: the one with the headlines

pairing: fuckboy!tom holland x best friend!reader

warnings: swearing, angsty ish, lizzie, angsty, didn’t proof read

word count: 4.5k

songs i recommend listening while reading:

Falling-Harry Styles

Before You Go-Lewis Capaldi

Stone Cold-Demi Lovato

Wrong Direction-Hailee Steinfeld

Unsteady--X Ambassadors

Instead-Blake McGrath

apple music playlist

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

“SpiderMan actor Tom Holland swings to try and stop a wedding.”

“Tom Holland pulls a rom-com stunt this time.”

“Seems like not even�� Spiderman can swing himself out of a rejection.”

“Tom Holland is horribly rejected as he tried to stop his best friend’s wedding.”

“This girl lived the dream and DARED to reject Tom Holland as he stopped her wedding to tell her he loved her.”

“Who is y/n y/l/n? Everything you need to know about the girl who rejected Tom Holland.”

Buzzfeed quiz: Who are you from the video of the girl who rejected Tom Holland?

Haz was such a real mood but the girl with the red dress was all of us.

Youtube: Trending: Tom Holland stops a wedding and gets rejected.

Twitter: Trending #Y/NWTF Tom Holland

Chaos. Tom’s name was known around the world, that’s for sure. But right now, his name was besides headlines that were not so pleasing. He didn’t know. But the whole world had seen Tom Holland pull a stunt which he was probably not proud of.

It was everywhere.

Everyone was talking about it. And y/n had been attacked several times. Everyone in the fandom had turned around to hate y/n. And she had disappeared, on every single social media. Could anyone blame her? Nobody knew anything about her. Had she married Miguel? Did she look up for Tom?

Why had she dared to reject Tom Holland? That was the big question. Because, of course, who in their right mind dares to reject him?

And seemed like everybody had an opinion about it. And it had been only hours from it and the headlines had started. But now it’d been days. And Tom didn’t know about the chaos.

Tom had been quiet. None of his friends had asked him about it, because they knew that this was the hardest thing he’d ever gone through. He hadn’t checked his phone once.

He hadn’t done anything. His brothers had to pack up for him and they had helped him at the airport. They were back in London. They had been for a few days now.

All of them were watching him stare blankly at the window. He didn’t say any single word. They didn’t push him. How could they, though?

It was a miracle that Tom was still able to walk and breathe.

What they didn’t know was that Tom was going over the conversations he had had with y/n on the night before, wondering if there was any kind of hint that revealed her sudden harsh and stupid decision.

He thought he should’ve stayed at the restaurant. He shouldn’t have gone to the wedding. Because y/n never liked any stunt. She never liked the spotlight, she liked to disappear, she liked to be invisible. And he had put her right on the spotlight. Maybe that was the mistake. Or did she really not want him?

Was she now happily married to Miguel? Was she on her way to her honeymoon?

They didn’t know what had happened after they had left, at least Tom didn’t. He knew, however, that they had probably updated Haz or Tuwaine of the situation. And if they hadn’t told him anything, y/n was probably married by now. And he didn’t know anything about the headlines, yet.

Tom wondered what he had done wrong.

“Would it be too bad?” Y/N had asked. “If I asked to spend little time with you, or a lot of time with you.”

“I’m sure Miguel wouldn’t like that.”

She frowned. “I never said anything about him.”

“It’s implied,” Tom sighed.

“But would you?”

“What?”

“Would you like it if I asked you to spend time with me?”

Tom looked at her. “Maybe.”

“You know Tom, I’m very inexperienced at all this love thing, that’s why I tend to do mistakes, but I know deep inside—“

“That Miguel isn’t one?”

She stayed quiet. “I just can’t afford being broken. I don’t think my heart could handle that much, but then again—”

“With me?”

“With you, I’m at risk, Tom. I know it, that’s how it’d go, me fearing for yet another rejection,” she sighed. “And besides, your crazy life is…”

“You’ve handled it before,” Tom said.

“Everyone in the world knows who you are,” she said. “And I’m someone who barely has any spotlight. Maybe that could make us work, I wouldn’t steal your thunder.”

But Tom wondered why she thought she was nothing, after all, he was perfectly aware that everyone in the room would stop to stare whenever she walked in. He knew that she needed just one smile to make anybody fall in love with her. He knew everybody leaned over to listen to her whispers because everybody wanted to listen.

Y/N had something very powerful, something that made her special. The only problem was she didn’t see it, she never saw it. She was always putting everyone else before her.

“You always have the spotlight,” he said. “At least to me.”

“Ah, cut off the cheesy statements,” she chuckled. “But would you stay?”

“I don’t—I don’t think I could,” he admitted.

“My heart couldn’t handle it,” she said. “I know it, seeing you everywhere. Pictures here, and there. Movies. Songs.”

“Songs?”

“Would it be too cheesy to say every song might remind me of you?” She wondered. “Would it be too cheesy if I said that the moon wouldn’t be as bright?”

“It would be too cheesy….” He laughed.

“But?”

“But then again, I know you’re telling the truth.”

She looked at him. “Then I think about it, if I were to choose you.”

“You won’t.”

“You’re very clear on that,” she frowned.

“I don’t want you to, I know I’m a big handful of trouble,” Tom said.

She laughed. “We’ve been friends for a while now, I know that, and I didn’t mind.”

He watched her.

“What if we disappeared?” She asked. “I love doing that. Being invisible.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“And with me, you can’t be invisible, that’s another reason why you won’t choose me,” he pushed.

“We are invisible tonight,” she stared at him.

“Are we, really? We’re at risk right now.”

“The thing is, I love risk,” she said.

“I want you to be happy, y/n.”

She looked at him. “It’s funny you say that, everybody keeps on saying that. Even Miguel. But nobody knows what would make me happy.”

“What would?”

“Not having this mess, for starters,” she shrugged. “But right now it doesn’t matter.”

“Y/N.”

“We said we only had tonight, right?”

“Right.”

She stared at him. “Really, Tom, would it be a sin if I asked you to be my tomorrow, too?”

Tom bit his lip. “You wouldn’t.”

She didn’t say anything.

“I miss thinking my feelings were one sided,” she admitted.

“What?” He chuckled, confused.

“Everything was less complicated back then,” she added.

Tom smiled. “I thought my feelings were one sided too,” he admitted.

“What?” She sat up. “Oh my god, really? You never saw it?”

Tom shook his head. “That’s why I backed away! I mean—“

“You’re always oblivious,” she nodded, “but I didn’t think you were that naive…”

Tom blushed. “I’m stupid.”

“Okay, when—at Andrew’s wedding,” she started, as she was mapping her thoughts. “Alright, there,” she looked at him whimsically. “What—what did you think happened before you knew—all this?”

Tom had to sit up to rub his face. “I thought you were—I thought you were—I don’t know,” he bit his lip, “I was confused, because the girl I loved was—first saying everything she was saying,” he smiled, “You know, the vows… and when we danced I got lost—gosh this is going to sound cheesy—“

She chuckled, “go on, I don’t care how cheesy, I bet I’ve said cheesier stuff.”

“I got lost in your eyes,” Tom admitted embarrassed. “And—I didn’t understand why you left,” he sighed. “I guess that was the first time I understood that you were… afraid of me? I realized you had this idea of me that couldn’t be changed.”

Y/N shook her head. “That’s not true.”

“Do you believe I’ve changed?” Tom asked.

“Well, have you?” She frowned.

Tom blinked.

“Think about it, Tom, I asked you to be my tomorrow but you’re only asking for one night,” she whispered.

“But it’s different?”

“Then why do I feel the same way I felt when I was on the bridge?”

Tom sighed. “This is different, y/n.”

“I don’t know, Tom, it’s just me again, a girl asking a boy to love her,” she shrugged. “I’m not asking more.”

“But I love you, already,” Tom snapped. “You’re asking me to be there.”

She nodded and then placed a kiss on his cheek. “Just think about it.”

Tom knew y/n. And she had been so reluctant on it. Maybe he should’ve escaped when she offered it. But what he couldn’t map was the way she had decided to marry Miguel anyway. Maybe Lizzie had been right. He should’ve gotten earlier, maybe he had shown his true nature.

Tom walked around his place the first days, sweatshirt and sweatpants. His diet had consisted of beers,crisps, chocolate milkshakes, and chocolate cake. He had once ordered a strawberry shortcake once, too.

He had turned off his phone and had binge-watched all three Iron Man films, all Shrek films and he had watched even that Julia Roberts film, My Best Friend’s Wedding because he hated himself.

But eventually ended up shielding on video games, and a pair of headphones to push himself out of reality.

“Tom,” Haz brought him back to reality. As Haz was taking off the headphones.

He looked up, and stared at his best friend, the twins and Tuwaine were there, too. But the other figure was the one who shocked him. Lizzie. Fucking Lizzie. And Tom lost it.

“I think… we should talk,” Haz said.

Tom shrugged and turned back to the game. “Why do you guys call her every time something fucking happens?”

“Tom,” Tuwaine pushed. Tom ignored him. “Tom!”

“Man cmon!” Harry yelled. “You’ve got to cut the bullshit!”

Tom scowled as he stood up and stormed off the room. “Oh fuck, sorry! Did you guys expect me to be fine?” He snapped. “Sorry if I’m not cheerful! I bloody can’t be! Are you happy, Liz?”

“We know!” Haz yelled.

“Tom this isn’t about your feelings right now,” Lizzie snapped.

“Oh sorry if I have the spotlight right now, I really don’t want to—“

Harrison rolled his eyes. “But you have to get your shit together man.”

“Can’t I bloody have some time? It’s very recent you know? And I can’t simply just forget about it! I…” He took a deep breath. “I’m no one right now, alright? I just bloody want to have some time to think about it, but my thoughts, fuck, my thoughts are drowing me, alright? I don’t feel alright, because I feel like…. It’s all on me and maybe, I realized it,” he continued as he ran a hand through his hair. “I realized it, alright? I… I’m simply someone who she doesn’t want to be around anymore, I caused her too much pain and that’s why she left, and that’s why she got engaged because it was a perfect way to get rid off of me. Maybe I shouldn’t have done anything. You knew that, didn’t you, Lizzie?”

“I didn’t know she would-”

“It’s bloody killing me, I’m not… I could’ve let her be, but I was selfish enough to consider my own bloody feelings first, just like I am right now, I guess, becuase that’s all you fucking think I am, right? A fucking arrogant son of a bitch! And she’ll have that memory of me, ruining it for her. And I don’t blame her, I can’t even control my thoughts anymore, I can’t stand myself. I can’t blame her, I showed her who I was for four bloody years and then I try to change for her. And now, I lost her. Now I lost her because I was stupid and because she’s too bloody stubborn and because she ended up doing what she was supposed to do, because that’s who she is. She does the right thing.”

“Tom…” Sam started.

“And I was too fucking selfish, I saw that she was going to be at her best, I saw it in those bloody pictures, and I can’t believe I… I don’t know, and I blame her, too. But I’ll miss her, god, I’m going to fucking miss her. Even if I’m angry right now, because I have the right to be angry, but…. But, but she did ask me to run away, and I should’ve run away with her. But why say all that if she was going to… I mean, why did she have to lead me on and then go and marry him? I just don’t fucking get it, you know? She’s full of shit, sometimes, can’t bloody make up her fucking mind. And you know what? She’s such a pain in the ass, you can tell her that, Lizzie, tell her that I, too, won’t stand her anymore, is that what you came here for? Or are you going to fucking tell me to keep fighting for her? Are you? Because look where all that led us, Liz! Maybe…” He scoffed. “Maybe this was all your bloody revenge for everything I did to you, and I’m fucking sorry, alright? Right now I can’t… I can’t hate, and I cant’ blame anyone but me, because this was all my fault. And I don’t want to… I can’t even listen to my thoughts anymore…Because all they’re saying is she deserved better, but did she? She’s just as fucking lost as I am,” Tom was defeated. “But that won’t make me love her any less. And deep down I know I don’t mean any bloody word I’m saying, because… I… We fucked it up.”

Harry sighed, as he approached his brother, he hugged him.

Tom sighed. “But I don’t want any of your pity, alright? And you, Lizzie,” he looked at her. “I don’t, I’m sorry for everything I did to you, to anyone, alright? I got my karma.”

Sam stared at Haz and Tuwaine. “Maybe we should…. Wait,” he told him.

“Yeah,” Tom walked off. “Wait until I feel bloody better, a few months, at least.”

Tuwaine clicked his tongue. “We know you’re not okay but you need to know this.

“What? That she got married?” Tom asked. “Is that what you’re bloody trying to tell me? Man, this is all rubbish.”

Lizzie looked away.

“Is she on her honeymoon?” Tom asked angrily.

“I won’t tell you anything,” Lizzie shrugged.

“Oh, now you guys won’t tell me,” Tom laughed.

“Tom, they leaked the video,” Sam finally told him.

Tom frowned. “What video?”

“Oh, you know, someone at the wedding filmed when you fucking interrupted it and now it’s everywhere!” Harry explained. “Everywhere.”

Tom felt like all the blood on his body had disappeared. He had to sit back down. This was a problem. A big one. He slowly walked back to the sofa, as he sat back down.

He closed his eyes, as he made a long pause. Taking a big breath. “How bad is it?” He asked.

“Very,” Harry answered.

Tom bit his lip. “Can I… see it?” Though he didn’t know if he wanted to remember it. He didn’t have the strength to see the stupid thing he’d done before.

Harry nodded as he showed the video to Tom. Tom felt a dagger through his chest as he watched the pathetic proposal he’d made and he saw her, too. There was pain in her eyes, and she looked tired, too. She didn’t look happy as she should’ve been.

“This is the end of my career,” Tom whispered.

Lizzie crossed her arms. “You’re not the bad guy here.”

Tom looked up, with realization as to why Lizzie was there.

“Oh,” he took a deep breath. “How… how is she?

“She’s the bitch who turned down Spiderman,” Lizzie said. “How do you think she’s doing?”

“Shit,” Tom bit his lip and closed his eyes again. “I…” He was worried about her, because he knew she’d be attacked.

“Yeah, she’s been called all things, and she had to delete all her social media,” Lizzie explained. “Maybe she was a bitch, very big bitch for doing that, for sure but this is the worst punishment.”

Tom stood up. “Where’s… where’s my phone?” Tom asked as Harry handed it over. “Oh my god, this is…” Tom started to scroll through the chaos, and he saw it, people commenting on his picutres, and people calling him out. He went to twitter and everything was hating on y/n, and other people making fun of him.

But he knew this was worse for her, this was people telling her horrible things.

Tom had to get his mind out of this.

“Where is she?” Tom asked Lizzie.

Lizzie looked away.

Tom took a deep breath. “Did she…”

“Look, Tom,” Lizzie sighed. “She’s not doing as good either, she’s just as broken as you are right now, but add to all of this that she’s dealing with hate.”

Harry sighed. “And well…”

“Your agent called,” Haz explained. “She suggested you should first speak up on instagram, for yourself.”

“No, no, no,” Tom frowned. “First… I have to say something about her.”

“She suggested a press conference,” Harry said.

“And mum and dad agreed,” Sam continued. “It would clear up everything.”

Tom took a deep breath.

“First, you’re going to post a statement, which we’ve… Been writing together, and you just have to give it a check,” Harry continued.

Tuwaine nodded. “Yeah, it’s…. An initial statement.”

Tom stood up, stressed. If this were bad, now they were even worse.

“Should I call y/n and apologize?” Asked Tom to Lizzie.

She shook her head. “Tom… I…No, you’re not okay, you need to heal, and… honestly, with everything, I think it would be like pouring salt on her own wounds.”

Tom clenched his jaw and looked away. “Fuck, right.”

“The headlines have been awful,” Haz said. “It’s…. Been.”

“Why the fuck haven’t you guys told me?” Asked Tom, angrily.

Tuwaine frowned. “You’re seriously asking that? Have you seen yourself?”

“You’ve been ignoring us all, we’ve tried to, fuck, we all been trying to talk to you, but you’ve pushed us all way,” Harrison raised his voice.

“And we get it, alright?” Harry said. “But really, it’s time you…”

Tom shook his head, standing up, pacing around the room.”Right, sorry, sorry,” he sat down again. “I need…” He stood up again, and headed to the fridge, he pulled out a beer. “Alright, okay.”

“Here’s the statement,” Sam said, handing him the phone over.

Tom read it, and started to change and correct a few details, to be more him, to really apologise to y/n.

“In the past few days, a video of me has surfaced on the web. While I assume full responsibility for my actions, I would like to clarify that my decision was made abruptly and without any previous thoughts, and it was a big mistake to pull a stunt like that. I do not encourage my behaviour, and I would like to first, apologize to y/n, who has been a great friend to me for the past years and who does not deserve any of the hatred coming her way. I’m deeply sorry for the hurt and embarrassment I may have caused her and anyone who's close to me and who’s been affected by the situation. This was a stupid and momentary decision, and she had all the right to say no, and I’m extremely sorry that it has jeopardized the relationship I had with the person I loved and respected the most, Y/N. It’s no secret I love her and I care deeply for her as my best friend, and I truly can’t begin to word my apology to her. I ask from the bottom of my heart that you guys stop harassing her and give her all the necessary respect and privacy. While I know the situation can’t be undone, and I know it shall not be forgotten, I do ask discretion.

I’m sorry, Tom.”

It felt sincere, in a way. It was simple, it was fine.

And he meant it, but what he truly wanted to say was: “I don’t regret doing it because she was worth doing it, and I wish she’d said yes. And I hope I could turn back time so I could take us out of this mess.”

He sat down again.

“This… this is too much,” Tom said before posting the screenshot of the statements to his social media. “Okay, now when’s the…”Tom rubbed his face. “The press conference?”

Harry watched him. “Two days.”

Tom took a deep breath. “Alright… I’ll call my agent to see what I’m supposed to say and…” Tom looked up. “This is too big of a mess.”

Lizzie sighed. “I’m… very sorry, Tom,” she admitted.

Tom looked up. “What for?”

“I feel like this is partly my fault, I thought she—“Lizzie started and watched as they boys left the room.

“We all did,” Tom interrupted her. “I hope she’s happy.”

Lizzie nodded. “I’m sorry for coming over here and… reminding you about it,” she said. “I really didn’t want any of this to happen.”

“Nobody did.”

“But if there’s anything I can help with—“

“You didn’t just come here to solve this mess, I know,” Tom said. “How… how is she?”

Lizzie shrugged. “Not good.”

Tom looked around. “Should I—“

Lizzie watched him.

“I feel like calling her wouldn’t be right,” he admitted. “But there’s a part of me that wants to tell her that I’m deeply sorry for all the pain that I’ve caused her,” Tom continued. “I—You know, maybe I should write her something, but she’s always been the writer,” Tom sighed. “I—I” Tom looked around. “There was a part of me that…” he took a deep breath. “Come here,” he said and lead the way to his room. This was such a different experience from the last time he’d asked Lizzie to come to his room. This was so cold. She followed after him. When they arrived, Tom searched through his drawers and pulled out a blue box.

Lizzie looked at him as she looked around the room, it was a big mess. Toblerone wraps everywhere, books hanging around. Messy and dirty clothes hanging all over the place, his AirPods on his bed. The curtains were pulled down.

“Maybe I should give this to her, but—“Tom took a big pause as he stared at the Tiffany box. “This was always meant for her,” Tom shook his head. “It’s—complicated. I guess… I should send her all her stuff back, but maybe she doesn’t want it back… I still have her copy of the first Harry Potter book hanging around, maybe I could gather up all her stuff and give it to you so you can give it to her…. or… I don’t even know if she’d want it back… and I don’t know if I want to give it back,” Tom sighed. “I just—feel like this was all too sudden, you know? We had a lot of dreams, she had a lot of plans and now it’s all… gone, you know?” Tom not his lip. “I—I’m not okay,” he admitted.

Lizzie carefully sat down beside him, listening.

“I know where it all went wrong,” Tom continued. “We should’ve run away together,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I guess we were meant to fall apart, but I—even if it hurts and even though I’m still angry and I still need time to heal, I truly want her to be happy.”

Lizzie took his hand and squeezed it.

“What will be of her dreams? Will she continue to be a journalist?” He scoffed. “As if I hadn’t ruined her reputation…” he bit his lip. “I know she wanted to be a reporter, and—what about her book? Or her poetry?” Tom asked. “Will Miguel take care of that?” He shook his head. “I just want to make sure that if she chose him, that if she chose him… she is happy.”

Lizzie nodded. “He wouldn’t be able to make her happy.”

Tom shrugged. “He shall, she chose him for a reason.”

Lizzie shook her head, and she chuckled. “It’s funny, isn’t it?”

Tom frowned.

“I was so blind,” she started. “I was one to hurt my best friend,” she said. “You and me are not so different, Tom, though you are more annoying, I—I think we both were too blind we were hurting y/n.”

Tom nodded..

“We both shielded on protecting her while we were hurting her,” she continued.

Tom watched her.

“But gosh, I really thought I would mend it by…” she shook her head. “Dunno, I thought I would mend it all by telling you to go and search for her.”

“Maybe I was too late,” Tom said. Tom looked away as he plopped to lay down on the bed, rubbing his eyes. “And me stopping the wedding like in a fucking chick flick would mean she’d have to choose me and that’s not—I get it,” he sighed.

“You don’t,” Lizzie chuckled dryly.

“You know what? Maybe it was too much, I know her, she doesn’t like any rom com stunts, I—I should’ve known better.”

“You’re right about that,” Lizzie declared. “Her meaning of love isn’t yelling it to the world, she’d never do that kind of stuff.”

Tom clicked his tongue. “Yeah I know,” Tom sighed, “for her love relies on the details.”

Lizzie nodded. “But that’s not the big lesson to learn here.”

Tom laughed cynically. “What is, then? Don’t try to stop a wedding until the last minute? Tell the people you love them when you have the chance?”

“Yeah, that too,” Lizzie agreed. “But I think most importantly, choose ourselves before anybody.”

Tom frowned.

Lizzie shrugged. “Dunno, but I know, that even if it hurt her seeing you, this was all for the best.”

Tom sighed. “Miguel was the right choice wasn’t it?”

Lizzie shook her head. “No.”

Tom scowled. “Then?”

“Y/N was the right choice,” she finally said.

“What do you mean?” Tom asked, confused.

“Y/N had to see this for herself,” she said. “We both know her, how she’s always choosing what everyone thinks she should choose.”

“Is that why she chose Miguel?”

Lizzie looked him in the eye. “Tom… she didn’t get married.”

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

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redspiderling · 5 years ago

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Idk but im really getting sick of people STILL bringing up the fact that they couldve gotten emily blunt as Nat and not scarlett. its been what, 12 years and theyre still complaining. I personally love Scarlett's portrayal, and I know that their upset comes from their dislike for her and the shit shes done. But Scarlett did the best with what she was given (which was basically nothing, thanks MCU!) and she truly cares about nat which is why she stuck out despite being treated like shit for years

Hey anon!

Sorry you’re having a tough time online anon, I know we’re supposed to find peace and quiet in places like these but, oh well.

From what I’ve gathered by rummaging through a lot of that rubbish (for science), there are two things these people have in common (most of the time):

a) They are not Black Widow fans

b) They have no idea what they’re talking about and are finding reasons to tell us they don’t like Scarlett Johansson.

The first fact is pretty easy to determine and, consequently, ignore and move on with your life. The second one is more complicated and I can’t offer any real reassurance, I get pissed off sometimes as well. I’m guessing you’re aware that mine is a Scarlett-friendly blog, which is why you felt comfortable enough leaving this ask here. I think it tells a lot about just how much I lack a sense of self-preservation that I didn’t even consider ignoring it.

I’ll try to unpack this, a bit, and hopefully next time you’ll think of these words and ignore these comments more easily.

Lets start with the simple fact that Emily Blunt didn’t want the role. In 2012, she told Vulture that she's kind of glad she didn't get those parts. According to her, superhero movies tend to cast women as second fiddle to the guys.

So, these “fans” wish the role of Natasha had gone to an actress that didn’t find it appealing, instead of Scarlett who actually met with Favreau multiple times trying to persuade him that she could do a good job, and went through the process of transforming herself physically to fit the part before she was even cast?! OK.

I’m breezing right past any “she’s not good enough as an actress” comments, because Scarlett is a double Oscar nominee now.

By the way, I’m not blaming Emily Blunt for thinking the way she did. She wasn’t wrong, superhero movies tended -at the time- to cast women as second fiddle to the guys. And if it weren’t for actresses like Scarlett Johansson, and Natalie Portman and all these women who worked hard and tried to make things better, they still would. Marvel had to literally trick Natalie Portman into signing her contract for Thor 2 by lying to her, and telling her they had chosen Patty Jenkins to direct the film, and Scarlett refused to make a Black Widow movie without a female team (director, writer etc).

Emily Blunt simply didn’t think it was worth her while to go through all that nonsense and I say good for her, she saved herself from a lot of drama. But at the same time, I can’t help but admire the actresses who did take those parts and decided to make things better for themselves, and for women in show business in general. Both Scarlett and Natalie fought to get women to direct films for the MCU, to get better treatment, and to get more women on screen.

Anyone who can’t see the merit behind the actions of these people isn’t worth your while anon.

Let’s move to the real crust of the issue here, which is that the people making these comments don’t like (or say they don’t like) Scarlett Johansson and are finding all sorts of ways to express that dislike.

Not only is it’s ridiculously easy to hate on Scarlett online in any way imaginable and from all fronts, it also sells. Scarlett Johansson’s name generates traffic/likes/you name it.

if you googled Scarlett’s name last week, you’d get results like How Scarlett Johansson Actually Kicked Off Ryan Reynolds And Hugh Jackman's Famous 'Feud' from all sorts of credible sources. Then you’d click on the article and it would of course be complete bullshit. Scarlett had absolutely nothing to do with it and the actual thing was a joke that Hugh Jackman made during an interview.

Number of articles on it? More than a dozen.

Let that sink in. A dozen articles from various sources on a joke Hugh Jackman made that contained the words Scarlett Johansson.

So, while some of the people who dislike her are genuinely hurt by things she has said over the years, I find that these honest people don’t roam the internet generating hate. Because this type of hate doesn’t makes any sort of sense.

There are countless other examples of actors, entertainers, singers, whatever, who have done ridiculously worse things than misspeak, or get cast in a role that some people considered inappropriate, who don’t generate anywhere near that amount of attention.

And it’s not that we’re suddenly so progressive we can’t handle even the tiniest of missteps. Hell, as early as a few years ago you’d get quotes from directors saying “Oh, we didn’t cast her because when you see Scarlett Johansson on screen you’re just waiting for her to take her clothes off” and no one batted an eye.

So anon, try not to pay attention to it or, heaven forbid, actually engage these people in conversation. It’s completely pointless. At this point I’m convinced that on some level it’s plain old internalised misogyny, and then to a greater degree a marketing strategy, because we’ve seen literal criminals get more leeway than she ever did, and because it’s not something you’d argue with someone about in real life.

Honestly, try to talk about it with people outside of the internet. Humans are much more reasonable when they’re not hiding behind a screen.

#hope you'll feel better about it anon!#asks #ANONS #I've said this before #Scarlett Johansson #another version of the same rant #the same vent

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kyliwrites · 5 years ago

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the exit's the other way

ship: davekat (no quadrant/all quadrants; established relationship)

prompt: "you know what!? fuck you. i'm out of here."

"*name.*"

"WHAT?!"

"the exit's the other way."

setting: earth c (canon universe/post-canon, no epilogues)

Your name is Dave Strider, and you are just the absolute god damned best at riling loud, insufferable aliens up to the brink of delirious rage. Because the way their gray cheeks flush and their eyes darken is so perfectly entertaining, you take it upon yourself to annoy them into paradox space and back.

Karkat, for example. All it takes is the bare minimum of poking and prodding at his favorite romcom actor and SHABAM. Little guy's all fuming and everything; you can see the puffs of smoke coming out his ears and the attractive way his fangs slide out over his lips. He's glaring in that wide-eyed furious way of his, anger hot enough to brand you right on the asscheek like a motherfucking cow. Moo, bitch.

You hardly insulted him, but Karkat's like that: hypersensitive, petty, an asshole, totally adorable when he's mad. He's got his flaws (who doesn't?), but with you, he doesn't try so hard to cover them up. You love him all the more for that.

Presently, he's ranting about the flaws and inaccuracies of some human film you alchemized into existence for him, and he's been doing so for approximately four minutes and twenty-seven seconds. You haven't been paying much attention, if you're being honest, because you've been too busy mentally recounting everything else about those four minutes and twenty-seven seconds. Why? Narrative reasons, yo.

You tune in at the last second and catch his metaphorical hands instead of the hilariously unironic picking apart of whichever movie you picked for him (you can't even remember at this point; you've spent all three years since the game ended finding progressively shittier films, if only so you can experience the pleasure that is Karkat's ranting).

"-and are you even FUCKING listening, douchenozzle!?" Comes Karkat's infuriated, raspy interjection. It throws you bodily from your thoughts, and you blink from behind your shades in an effort to clear your head.

"Nah," you answer honestly once you've regained your bearing. "Shit got more boring than watching American football with the boys on a rainy Saturday night. Dude goes in for a tackle and skids across the field tragically. Eight jocks in a row go flying and it's like a god damn bowling alley up in this bitch. The boys start swearing like some motherfuckers, but you, a renowned Football Connoisseur, shake your head solemnly rather than go batshit insane over the slip-n-slide conga line like, you know, a normal person. Football people, bro. No humor. No sense of irony."

"I understood approximately FUCKALL OF THAT, asshole. Speak English or Alternian, thanks a whole fucking lot. What gog damn language was that!?" Karkat looks you up and down with a scrunched up expression, as if deciding where to maim you first. You straighten involuntarily underneath his gaze.

"...S'called Texan, m'dude."

He recoils melodramatically. "Texan!? Is that a joke or some bullshit? Some kind of dead language you somehow learned? Where the fuck is the TEXAN and who came up with a name that hideous and disgusting?"

"No, Karks," you wheeze. "Texas. The people from Texas are Texans."

"Why do I care about your overcomplicated alien linguistics!? Answer my question, Strider," he demands, crossing his arms. His nails, bitten down yet still sharp and threatening, dig into his sweater.

"I'm from Texas, dude. You know how there were, like, different dialects on y'all's murderplanet? English is kind of like that. Texans have huge accents and are famous for being racists, people from Jersey are famous for being the shittiest people, Alabamians marry their relatives, etcetera etcetera."

After a moment of thought, Karkat nods seriously and says, "That explains why you're such a xenophobe."

You choke. Of all the things you'd been expecting him to say, it definitely wasn't that. You reply eloquently:

"W-what!?"

"You heard me. You fucking space racist."

"Oh my jesus shit, rude," you protest vehemently. "I am not space racist." Not anymore, at least.

Karkat flashes a rare fanged grin at you, his eyebrows lifted, and you realize he's only joking. The smile is gone as soon as it came, one of those blink-and-you-miss-it gifts. "Space racist." He nudges you with one elbow. You nudge him back.

"Dude," you say, "don't make this a thing."

He pushes you forcefully, hard enough for you to have to grip the arm of the sofa you're sitting atop to remain seated, in response. Oh, it is on.

You tackle him and he lets out a paralyzed squawk when you roll off the couch and into the floor. He lands on his back with an "oof," and you pin him down by the shoulders. He bares his teeth, but the smile breaking out over his face ruins the effect.

"Get off me, asshat, I'll fucking kneecap you," he barks, still grinning like an idiot.

"You won't." You're grinning like an idiot, too, to be fair, except yours is more fond than shit-eating. Dave Strider, maximum sap. Whod've thunk.

He surges forward suddenly, without warning, and uses his legs to flip you onto your back; it knocks all the air out of you, but you manage a cackle and a "fuck you" anyway. He pins your arms above your head and sits on your chest.

"Say fucking uncle, Strider."

"That's not how that game works!" You wheeze. "You don't even know what an uncle is!" He smirks—the sight makes your heart flutter like the cat getting showered in affection meme. The thought distracts you and you briefly ponder making a Karkat version, but you aren't given the reins to think very long because he flicks your nose.

"Ow! Dickhead, that hurt—"

"Dickhead yourself! Your fucking bony ribs are digging into my ass!" He wrinkles his nose and shifts, trying to find a more comfortable way to sit.

"What ass?" You demand in jest, which is the worst thing someone pinned beneath the person they are making fun of could possibly say. He narrows his eyes and you manage a "shit wait no" before he snatches his hands away.

You've lived together for all of three years, four months, and seventeen days. He knows your weaknesses as well as he knows his own, your fears, your discomforts. He knows what you like, love, and hate. He knows when to push and when not to push. He gets you better than anyone, even your own psychoanalytic twin sister (you'll have to blame that one on the fact that she and her wife don't leave their house unless they're going to the alien procreation cave).

So, that's why he decides to tickle you. Because he knows you throw an absolute shitfit when it comes to being tickled.

You hunch your shoulders when his hands descend upon you and try to roll yourself into a tight, impenetrable ball to escape his fingers, but he's fucking relentless. He knows how sensitive you are; it's the perfect revenge.

In between your wheezing laughs, you can barely manage words, but you cough out a "dude," "bro," and "dudebro," then, finally, "Karkat," before he pauses, rasps, "You did this to yourself," and raises his hands threateningly again.

You blurt, "Uncle! I'll say uncle just don't do it please dude I have never done anything wrong ever you know this right? I—"

He leans forward, silencing you. "Take that bullshit you said first back, Strider, or your plea to your human familial figure is null."

"Fine! Fine, I take it back. Listen, bro. You definitely don't not have an ass. Like, in fact, that ass is so ripe I can't believe anyone would ever accuse you of not having one. That's so fucking disrespectful. How dare those blind motherfuckers? I'm waving my fists at them right now. I will singlehandedly smite all Karkat's assphobes, my man. I'll raise my assphobe smiting trident and pulverize all these thotass sons of bitches right here, right now. I'll do it, I will. I'm no coward. I'll protect that magnificent rear with everything I have, dude. Those glorious buns. The assnihilator—"

"Shut the fuck up oh my gog I can't believe I fucking brought this upon myself." Karkat rolls off of you and clutches said glorious buns. Apparently your ribs really did hurt his ass. Huh.

"You did bring it upon yourself," you agree. And then, because you still aren't done pushing his buttons and want to be an insufferable piece of shit, "So, you didn't say what you thought of the movie."

He opens his mouth, clamps it shut hard enough for his teeth to clank together, repeats the motion a couple of times. "I—Dave—You fucking—No. You know what? Fuck you. I'm out of here."

You burst into the horrid laughter of a hyena when he scrambles to his feet in one furious motion; he's back to grumpy scowling and cussing you out in the amount of time it takes for the underpaid McDonald's employee working the back of the store to flip a shitty one hundred percent not-beef burger patty.

He stomps heavily away—in the direction of the kitchen, you note, which only makes you cackle harder when you realize he didn't do it on purpose.

"Oh my fucking jesus god. Karkat!"

"WHAT!?" He yells without facing you.

"The exit's the other way."

He comes to an abrupt halt, slowly turns around, and begins marching back, in the right direction this time.

You're too busy flailing on the couch (you can't even remember pulling yourself back onto it) to give a shit when he throws himself down beside you. You do, however, give tons of shits when he pulls you into a very exasperated smooch that simply screams "shut the FUCK up you absolute godless heathen of a space monkey."

You are not opposed to "shut the FUCK up you absolute godless heathen of a space monkey" smooches.

He draws back and rolls his eyes. "Are you done yet, bulgemuncher?"

You are, as established many times, an insufferable piece of shit, so you say, "Dunno. Do I get to kiss you again?"

"Not with that attitude you don't."

You kiss him anyway, because god dammit he's your boyfriend and you demand kissing rights. He doesn't protest; instead, he wraps his arms around your neck and relaxes, just a little.

You could stay in his arms forever, you think.

#davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #fluff #no epilogues #homestuck #fic

79 notes · View notes

bangtaninink · 5 years ago

Text

i’m too lit to dim down a notch vi

Summary: Jeongguk is the new kid in town. Kind of. He’s looking for an Authentic College Experience™, and you have no problem helping him out with achieving that (fratboy!AU)

Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

〰️

Jeongguk is just a tiny bit stressed.

He’s been running around campus like a headless chicken, no idea where he is or which building he’s in anymore. Why does the Film Society meet in the Engineering building anyway?

Oh. Nevermind.

The giant Film Society sign makes him feel like an idiot, because he’s pretty sure that he’s passed through here before, so how the hell did he miss it? He’s a little out of breath, and he pulls his phone out to look at himself, cringing at his bedhead.

(He really should have listened to Seokjin when he told him to bring a comb. Has he been walking around all day looking like this?)

When he walks into the room, the first thing he does is look at his phone and check the time, instantly feeling like even more of an idiot, because he’s a whole fifteen minutes early. There’s barely anyone here: two people are at the front setting up the projector and laptop, and then he looks around and...

“Oh? Noona, you’re here already,” he says, spotting you in the back corner, curled up in a bean bag that could easily fit another two people. You look up from your phone, lips curling into a smile.

“Hey, babe. You’re early,” you say, sitting up.

“Yeah, hah. I, uh, thought I was gonna be late, so...” He walks over, sitting down on a pile of pillows next to you, dropping his bag down behind him.

“Engineering building?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I don’t fucking get it either,” you laugh. “Hey, Sora. Explain to me again why the Film Society meets in the most confusing building on campus.”

One of the people at the front turns around, hands on their hips.

“First of all,” Sora says. “The Engineering building is not the most confusing building on campus. That award goes to the Fine Arts building. Second of all, why wouldn’t I take advantage of the best technology in our university? You know that the Engineers have the best shit. And third of all, who’s the hottie?”

“This is Jeongguk,” you reply, chuckling. “Sports science sophomore.”

“Ooh. It shows.”

“He’s also Beta Tau.”

“Oh. Eww. Sorry.”

“Jeongguk, this is Sora. They’re a social studies senior. Not the biggest fan of frat boys if you didn’t catch that earlier.”

“Um, nice to meet you,” Jeongguk says sheepishly.

“Man. You had so much potential, Jeongguk-sshi.”

“Ignore them,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Sora’s first love was a frat boy until he moved to Paris to “pursue his art” or some bull like that. They’re butthurt, and angsty, and have vowed to never mess with another frat boy again.”

“A-fucking-men,” Sora comments.

“Don’t take it personally, babe.”

“Oh. Okay, yeah. Sure,” Jeongguk replies, nodding.

More Film Society members start to trickle in the closer it gets to five, and Jeongguk is, needless to say, beautifully surprised by the array of people that come in. You seem to notice this, but you don’t make a comment on it.

“Alright. Okay,” someone at the front calls out, clapping his hands. “Let’s get into it. Welcome to the Film Society. I’m Kiha, your president. This is Sora, your vice president. Thanks for being here tonight.”

“We do have some new faces here, so welcome to the newbies,” Sora continues, sitting comfortably on the table by the laptop. “We will take this moment to remind everyone about the rules. One: the Film Society is not a place to take a siesta, or a nap, or get your fucking beauty sleep. We are here to watch and appreciate films.”

“Two: respect everyone’s request,” Kiha says. “Even if Minwoo is requesting Despicable Me 2 for the fiftieth fucking time.”

“It’s a great fucking movie!” someone at the front calls out -- Jeongguk assumes it’s Minwoo, if the following groans are anything to go by.

“Shut up, bitch. Okay, two-point-five: if you’re new, tell us your birthday if you’d like, because we organise viewing parties of your favourite movies. Three: if your request is chosen for the week, you must come up here and explain why you chose the movie you did, but don’t bullshit. If your reason is “I just like it”, then say that. Don’t try to sound cool, and start making up shit about cinematography and camera work or whatever. You ain’t slick, fool.”

“Why’re you talking like a lame Samuel L. Jackson?” Sora asks, looking annoyed.

“I dunno. I’m sorry.”

“Anyway. While Kiha recovers from that, four: we’re kind of obliged to say that pornography cannot be shown. Personally, I think that’s kinda lame, but whatever.” “True. Five: there will be absolutely no devil worship in the Film Society. So if you think Weinstein, or Scorsese, or fucking Selena Gomez are gods amongst mortals, get the fuck out now because you are not welcome here.” In the corner of his eye, Jeongguk sees someone raise their hand. “Yes. New kid.”

“Uh... what if we wanted to request something like Pulp Fiction? It’s a great film, but Weinstein worked on it, I think,” he asks.

“If we all come to a consensus and want to watch the movie, all good,” Sora answers. “We know some films are just absolute classics that are, unfortunately, directed and or produced by spawns of Satan, so we leave that up to the group to decide. Just don’t bring up any controversial producers and directors.”

“And actors,” Kiha adds.

“Yeah. Unless you’d like to get into a fight with Jinah. Fair warning: you’re gonna lose.” Someone on the other side of the room raises a fist in the air and nods. “Six: no sex. I know it’s fucking tempting with the dim lights and shit, but... keep it in your pants, people. And, that’s it I think.”

“Alright. Tonight’s film has been chosen by... who chose today’s film?”

“I think we picked Jungwoo, right?”

Jeongguk watches as someone by the front stands, turning around to face the group.

“Hey, guys. I’m Jungwoo. Uh, the movie I requested is Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds. I requested it because... I dunno. I just love the way Brad Pitt says Nazis in his weird ass accent in the movie, honestly. So... yeah.”

Jungwoo sits down as Kiha and Sora set the projector and laptop up, and Jeongguk looks around, shifting on his pile of cushions to get comfortable.

“Hey.”

Jeongguk turns when you grab his attention.

“You wanna sit on here with me?” you ask, already moving to the side. “Inglourious Basterds goes for two and a half hours. You might not have an ass if you’re on those pillows the entire time.” He chuckles softly.

“Have you seen the movie before, noona?” Jeongguk asks, sitting down next to you -- you’re right; now that he’s sitting on the bean bag, he knows he would’ve left with a numb ass if he stayed on those cushions.

“Mhm. A while ago though. Have you seen it?”

“Nah. I haven’t seen a lot of Tarantino movies. I’ve seen Kill Bill a couple times. And that one about the flight attendant lady who smuggles money for Samuel L. Jackson.”

“Oh, Jackie Brown. That’s a pretty good movie too.”

“Alright everyone,” Sora announces from the back of the room, standing by the light switches. “Phones off. Let’s watch.”

〰️

Jeongguk thinks the movie’s pretty good.

Until, that is, you decide to get comfortable about halfway through.

He tries, very hard, to keep his composure when you move around to sit a little closer to Jeongguk, not taking your eyes off the screen when you rest your head on his shoulder and press yourself against his side. You’re the epitome of calm, relaxed as if you do this all the time, but Jeongguk is the complete opposite, unsure if he’s about to piss his pants or pop a boner.

(He prays to God neither happens.)

Inglourious Basterds is gruesome, as all Tarantino films are, and Jeongguk tries his best to focus on all of it, eyes hyperfocused on the blood on the screen and not the blood heading south in his own body. He gulps, and tries to stay cool.

〰️

Fifteen minutes of the movie is enough for you to remember how the rest goes, and you proceed to zone out, not really watching what’s on the screen and instead, staring blankly towards the front.

It’s cruel, what you’re doing to Jeongguk, but Yoongi’s words don’t seem to sit right with you still as you replay them over and over again. You like to think that you’re pretty good at sensing looming crushes, at figuring out if someone is going to start developing some feelings before they’re even aware of it themselves, so needless to say, it’s stumps you that there’s a possibility that you hadn’t caught this early enough.

Since that night at the bar, you’d convinced yourself that it’s because you’re not fucking him that explains why you hadn’t suspected anything. You blame it on Jeongguk being new to the group, to Seoul itself, and assumed that the way he acted around you was just him being him.

So Yoongi telling you that he suspected that Jeongguk had a crush on you so blatantly like that had been a big slap to the face.

This is dangerous and ballsy, but you have to know for yourself if what Yoongi says is true. You shift around, adjust your position on the super sized bean bag to lie on your side pressed up against Jeongguk, eyes still glued to the screen in an image of nonchalance, and the way Jeongguk tenses a little against you tells you everything you need to know.

Fuck.

〰️

“See you guys next week,” Kiha says as everyone files out of the room, Sora adding a wave over their shoulder as they get to work on rolling up the screen of the projector.

“Wait, so... is that it, noona?” Jeongguk asks you once you’re both out of the room, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“What do you mean?” you ask with a soft chuckle.

“Like... there’s no disussing or assignments? No three-page paper on the themes of Inglourious Basterds?” You throw your head back and laugh.

“It’s a club, babe, not a class. Kiha and Sora aren’t trying to add more to your workload.”

“So... we just watch movies every week? That’s it?”

You shrug.

“Pretty much, yeah. Sometimes, we’ll go down to watch a new release at the cinema or whatever, but for the most part, it’s just a movie or two in the Engineering building.”

“Wow. That’s... fucking cool,” Jeongguk says, nodding thoughtfully. You laugh and shake your head.

“Where are you headed to now, babe?” you ask. “You don’t have anymore classes, do you?”

“No, I’m all done for the week.” Jeongguk stops walking suddenly, hand resting on your arm to do the same. “Hey, noona. You wanna go get something to eat? My treat.”

“Wh-- Jeongguk, no way. I still owe you from baseball last week.”

“Noona, that was nothing. I told you that already,” he says, laughing. “It was just Burger King. And then you also let me sleep on your sofa that one time, and came to both my tryouts, so technically, I owe you.”

“God, you are next level,” you mutter, chuckling and shaking your head. “Alright, Richie Rich. Where do you wanna go?”

Jeongguk grins.

“Barbecue.”

“Barbec-- Jeon Jeongguk, are you insane?”

“C’mon, noona. I’m starved.”

〰️

“You wanna slow down there, champ?” you say, amused as you watch Jeongguk shovel another heaped spoonful of rice into his full cheeks. He smiles, tight-lipped, chewing and swallowing.

“Do you have work tomorrow, noona?” Jeongguk asks, reaching for a napkin to wipe the corners of his mouth.

“I do. Why? You wanna stop by?”

He shrugs.

“Depends. I’m not sure if Taehyung hyung wants to spend the entire day playing Overwatch again. It’s kinda weird though.”

“What is?”

“I never really thought I’d enjoy going to a club. Like, there’s so many people, and it smells like sweat and... other bodily fluids... I mean, how can you work there, noona?”

“I mean, the pay’s pretty good. And for the most part, as long as I’m behind the bar, I’m fine,” you reply. “Most guys are too drunk to coordinate their limbs over the counter and shit, you know?”

“But... the smell... the people...”

“You get used to it after a while. A couple shots every now and again helps.”

“Man,” Jeongguk sighs. “I could never. You’ve got bigger balls than me, noona.”

“So. Should I keep an eye out for you tomorrow night?”

“I’ll text you.”

〰️

“On your left, Jeon,” Taehyung says, fingers moving frantically across the keyboard of his laptop.

“Yep. I see him,” Jeongguk replies, licking his lips in anticipation.

The ruckus outside of Taehyung’s room is drowned out by the sounds coming from his laptop and Jeongguk’s, two pairs of eyes glued to the screens, half empty Red Bull cans at their feet.

Taehyung whoops when a player of the opposition dies, and Jeongguk grins, chest swelling with pride as they win yet another match.

“Dude.” Taehyung flexes his fingers as Jeongguk finishes off the last of his drink. “Have I ever told you how fucking glad I am that you moved down here?”

“Only every time we’ve played Overwatch together, yeah,” Jeongguk chuckles.

“Well, I just wanna say I’m glad one more time. Another round?”

“Sure, hyung. Just give me a minute. I’m about to piss my fucking pants.”

“I reckon I should get a toilet installed in my room. Do you know how goddamn convenient that’d be?”

“Gross. Your room’s gonna smell even more like shit than it already does,” Jeongguk says, scrunching up his nose as he walks out.

“Dick.”

Jeongguk laughs to himself as he makes his way over to the bathroom and proceeds to empty out a bladder full of coffee and Red Bull. It’s a disgusting combination, and he finds himself wincing at the smell, vowing to never subject his body to such an atrocity, knowing full well he’ll do it again next week when Taehyung is rousing him from his sleep Saturday morning.

He’s in the middle of washing his hands when his phone chimes in the pocket of his sweatpants, and then again when he haphazardly dries his hands on his shirt before he fishes it out.

< hey, guk. i won’t be coming into work tonight :( think we might’ve eaten something weird last night? i feel like shit’s shit > < how’re you? are you feeling alright? have you been gracing the porcelain with your beautiful face like i have?? >

“What’s up with you?”

Jeongguk looks up from his phone at the sound of Taehyung’s voice once he’s stepped back into his room.

“Huh?”

“You look like you just found out your grandpa died,” Taehyung says. His eyes grow wide the second he finishes. “Wait. He didn’t, did he? Oh my God, fuck. I’m so--”

“No, I’m fine. My grandpa died when I was two, hyung. I’m good,” Jeongguk replies, sitting back down in front of his laptop, phone tucked back into his sweatpants.

“Oh. Then why were you looking at your phone like that? Don’t tell me you got kicked off one of the teams, man. I was looking forward to coming watch you.”

Jeongguk snorts.

“You told me yesterday that you wanted to pick up chicks and dicks at every game.”

“That too. But, for real. What’s up?”

Jeongguk hesitates, worrying at his lip and picking at the edge of his thumbnail.

“Nothing. _____ noona just texted me saying she won’t be going to work tonight, that’s all,” he says, trying to sound casual, unbothered. Taehyung, however, sees right past that, arching a questioning eyebrow at the younger.

“_____?” Jeongguk shrugs, reaching over to grab a new can of Red Bull. “As in... my sister, _____?”

“Step sister,” Jeongguk mutters under his breath.

“You can’t pull the ‘step sister’ card on me, dude,” Taehyung laughs. “But, regardless, explain.”

“Wh-- um, what am I explaining exactly?”

“Let’s start with why you’re texting my sister.”

Jeongguk watches Taehyung crack open another can of Red Bull, leaning back against his bed with a growing smirk on his lips. Jeongguk doesn’t know why he’s nervous; he’s not guilty of anything, and it’s an innocent question from Taehyung. He knows nothing about his not-crush; if anything, his smugness is an indication that Taehyung assumes Jeongguk has joined the gang of guys having sex with you.

Jeongguk desperately wills the rising blood to his cheeks away at the thought.

“Well, uh... we’re both in Film Society together,” Jeongguk offers.

“And?” Taehyung prompts. “Just ‘cause you guys are in the same club, doesn’t mean you gotta be texting each other.”

“Uh... I asked her to have dinner with me last night after Film Society because I still owe her from baseball. And, uh, we were just talking and stuff. I was gonna go down to the club and hangout today if she was working.”

“Uh huh.” The corners of Taehyung’s mouth twitch as he holds back a grin. “And, just to clarify, you were the one who asked her to have dinner with you last night?”

“Um... yeah.”

“Jeon Jeongguk, are you fucking my sister?”

Jeongguk stutters and stammers at Taehyung’s question, caught off guard by how upfront the elder is. He can’t even begin to comprehend it all, mind reeling with hypotheticals and an out of control imagination that he has to get a grip of.

“Wh-- h-hyung!” he splutters. “No! N-no, I... I’m not h-having sex with your sister! I swear! We were just... w-we just hung out last night after Film Society. We’re just friends.”

Taehyung hums, fingers tapping on the rim of his can as he says, “I mean, sure, but _____’s also friends with Jimin, and Yoongi hyung, and a bunch of other frat dudes, but that doesn’t stop them from doin’ the do any time they’re feeling horny.” Jeongguk looks everywhere but at Taehyung; Taehyung chuckles at the sheer panic on the younger’s face. “Hey. Dude, it’s fine. If you’re fucking my sister, it’s chill. I don’t really care. She can do whatever she wants; it’s her body. And you can do whatever you want.”

“Hyung... seriously. I haven’t had sex with _____ noona,” Jeongguk urges.

“Hmm. Well, if that’s true, then I’m surprised. You seem like you’d be her ideal lay.”

Jeongguk opens his mouth to ask for some clarification, but Taehyung cuts him off with a slap to the younger’s knee, jerking his chin towards his laptop.

〰️

“I love Saturdays. Don’t you love Saturdays, Guk?” Hoseok asks.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, sure,” Jeongguk says, not looking up from his phone, resting on his elbows against the kitchen counter. “Hey, um. Do you know how to make juk, hyung?”

Hoseok looks at him with confusion, bottle of soju in hand.

“Jeongguk, no one in this house cooks. Well, no one except Jin hyung, but he’s busy with Namjoon doing whatever the fuck they do on Saturdays. Those lame slam poetry readings at those bougie bars or whatever.”

“Oh.”

“Why? Do you want juk? They probably sell instant juk at convenience stores and shit. It’s probably not the kind your mama makes, but who’s expecting that?”

“Aren’t those, like, super salty and bad for you?”

“Probably,” Hoseok replies, shrugging. “But it’s either that, or you learn how to cook, dude.”

“True.”

“I guess if you want the good shit, you’d go to, like, a supermarket. If you’ve got the funds, anyway.”

“Right.” Jeongguk taps his finger against his phone, thinking. “Do you think anyone’ll let me borrow their car, hyung?”

“Probably not. We have a bad rep with cars, and on Saturdays, they’re either in use, or two kilometres away from being totalled. You can use my board if you want though.”

“Yeah?”

“As long as you return it in one piece.”

“Of course, hyung,” Jeongguk replies, straightening up with a smile. “I’m not Taehyung hyung.”

〰️

Jeongguk holds Hoseok’s skateboard tucked tightly between his arm and side, wary of keeping a distance from the stacked foods along the shelves. He picks up a plastic wrapped styrofoam cup of instant soup, turning it in his hand to read off the label.

Reduced salt.

That sounds like a good thing, right?

He puts the cup back onto the shelf, and pulls out his phone to read off the list he’d typed up earlier.

Instant juk. Bananas. Plain crackers. Something with electrolytes.

Jeongguk frowns at the shelves full of cups of instant foods, lamenting on all the requests he turned down from his mother to join her in the kitchen back home in Busan. This’ll have to do for now, he muses, making a mental note to learn how to cook.

Jeongguk wanders the aisles and picks up everything he needs: three cups of instant juk (reduced salt), a bundle of bananas, unsalted rice crackers, and two bottles of Pocari Sweat. He watches, adjusting his grip on the skateboard, as the cashier scans and bags everything, taking his card and swiping it through the machine boredly.

(A second mental note: start looking for a job.)

The ride to the Eta Theta Tau sorority house is uneventful and quick, the streets not too busy; Jeongguk assumes that at eight o’clock in the evening on a Saturday, most normal college students are getting ready for parties, not riding down the empty streets on a borrowed skateboard to bring food to their friend-slash-maybe-but-not-really-crush.

When he gets to the front door of the Eta Theta Tau sorority house, it occurs to Jeongguk that he has no idea what the protocol is: does he knock, or is he allowed to walk right in? He’s not here for a party. He picks up the skateboard, tucks it under his arm, shifting his hold on the bag of groceries to grab his phone.

But he hesitates again because he could call, but you might not be feeling well enough to meet him at the doo--

“Oh!”

Jeongguk looks up to find the front door now wide open, a wide-eyed and surprised Halla standing in the doorway.

“Jeongguk... sunbaenim, right?” she asks, smiling politely.

“Uh, yeah. Halla, right? From the party?” Jeongguk asks back, eyes narrowed slightly in thought.

“That’s me. What brings you to the Hot Box, sunbaenim?”

“Oh. Right. Um, _____ noona’s here, right?”

“Yeah, she is! Although, she’s not feelin’ so hot right now. Food poisoning, I think she said. Real gnarly.” Halla makes a face, shaking her head. “But she’s upstairs in her room, if you so dare to enter the dragon’s lair.” Jeongguk chuckles, stepping inside when she steps aside and waves an arm, letting him in.

“Thanks. You heading out somewhere?” he asks.

“Mhm! Hyuna unnie told me to meet her down at the Pie Hole,” Halla answers, fixing her hair.

“The... Pie Hole?”

“The Delta Pi frat house. Their parties are supposed to be epic. Unforgettable.”

“Does every frat and sorority have a nickname or something?”

“From what I’ve heard? I think so.”

“Uh huh. Wait. What’s the nickname for Beta Tau then?”

Halla tilts her head, lower lip jutted out.

“I think Beta Tau are the Boyscouts or something.” Halla smiles, dipping her head a little in a polite bow. “I’ll see you around, sunbaenim. Tell unnie I hope she gets better soon!”

Jeongguk watches Halla walk off with a wave over her shoulder, waving back dumbfoundedly.

〰️

You groan softly and lift your head up off the pillow, emerging from your little blanket cocoon at the sound of gentle knocking on your bedroom door.

“Who is it?” you croak.

“It’s me, noona,” you hear, eyebrows rising in surprise at the voice.

“Come in.”

You watch as your door opens slowly, Jeongguk’s head poking into your room tentatively.

“Hey, noona,” he says, smiling as he steps into the room, shutting the door behind him.

“Hey, babe. What’re you doing here? You feeling okay?”

“I’m doin’ okay. But I had, like, five Red Bulls and a couple coffees with Taehyung hyung today, so maybe not.”

You chuckle softly, pushing yourself up to sit against the wall as Jeongguk sets his skateboard down by your door and sits down at the foot of your bed.

“What’s in the bag?” you ask.

“Oh. Um.” He pulls it closer, reaching in to unpack everything, laying it all out on the sheets. “I bought you some stuff. I feel bad, ‘cause... y’know. I asked you to eat barbecue with me last night, but you got sick and I didn’t.”

You click your tongue.

“Guk, it’s fine. It happens. You didn’t have to go and buy me all this.”

“No, for real, noona,” he insists. “Also, um, sorry I only got instant juk. I’d cook you some, but... well, I can’t. I bought you some Pocari Sweat, and some bananas too. Oh, and some rice crackers as well.”

“God, you are really something, Jeongguk,” you say, laughing and shaking your head as you reach for the packet of crackers. “Last time I was sick, Taehyung sat right there, sipping his Coke, saying I had it coming for me.”

“That’s kinda mean.”

“That’s Taehyung for you.”

“Should I cook one of these for you, noona?” Jeongguk asks, reaching for one of the plastic-wrapped styrofoam cups.

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m not crazy hungry right now,” you reply, grabbing his wrist before he can get off your bed. “The crackers and the banana look good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “Let’s just sit here and watch a crime documentary on Netflix or something. I’m not getting out of this bed for a while.”

“You... you like crime documentaries too, noona?”

Jeongguk looks at you with eyes as wide and round as a baby deer, and you can’t help the fond smile that spreads across your face.

“Sure do, babe,” you say, wiggling your eyebrows.

“Have you seen the Making a Murderer one?” he asks, excitement clear in his eyes as he turns around and sits on his knees, leaning forward with anticipation.

“Oof. A classic. Put that one on.”

〰️

Jeongguk’s eyes are so hyper-focused on the screen of your laptop, that he doesn’t notice the added weight on his arm right away.

“It’s pretty tough, don’t you think, noona?” he mutters quietly, not turning. “How can you tell if they’re really innocent, or just really good actors?” He doesn’t get a reply. “Noona?”

When Jeongguk finally turns to look at you, he almost chokes on his own spit. The documentary continues to play, but he pays it no attention, stunned silent by the way you’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder, hands softly curled around his forearm. His heartbeat is deafening in his ears, taking in the way your eyelashes seem to cast a slight shadow on your cheeks; the way your lips are parted is unfairly tempting, and Jeongguk isn’t sure how strong his resolve is. He swallows thickly, throat suddenly dry.

“Noon--” Nope. Bad idea, Jeongguk thinks, realising that he should let you sleep since you aren’t feeling well. He leans over as best as he can without disturbing you to pause the documentary, the room drowning in almost complete silence immediately.

The position you’re in is bound to leave you with a stiff neck or a sore shoulder, and as much as he wants to let you sleep, he cannot let you sleep like that. With weird and awkward manoeuvring, he manages to nudge the laptop shut with his socked foot without jostling you too much. He doesn’t know how to go about moving you from your half-sitting-up position to lying down properly on your bed without somehow wrapping his arms around you and getting into a very awkward position that, in the event you wake up in the process, he would have no idea where to begin explaining himself. Still, the need to make sure that you don’t wake up with a sore neck on top of your food poisoning outweighs whatever weird feeling is stirring in his stomach at the sight of you pressed up against him, neatly polished nails stark against his forearm.

He sends a silent apology your way, unable to shake this weird feeling of violating you when he leans over and tucks his hand between the bed and your thighs, slowly lifting you to pull you down gently, stretching your legs out from where you’d pulled them up against his knee. You stir, and Jeongguk freezes immediately at the way you make a soft sound, your head turning slightly, hair falling over your cheek, lips parted. He swallows thickly at the sight before him, all of a sudden hyper aware of how hot his hands feel from the nerves and Something Else, and he withdraws his hand from your thighs as soon as he realises he hasn’t.

Jeongguk waits a beat for you to settle before he attempts to pull his arm out of your grasp. He doesn’t know if he’s only imagining the way your fingers seem to tighten their hold on his forearm ever so slightly, but it makes him freeze again nevertheless. He spends a moment trying to figure out a good plan of action, and maybe it’s the smell of your shampoo, or the faint aroma of perfume hanging in the air, but something seems to lead him to lying down with you.

If he can’t make you lie down on your own, he’ll just coax you into doing it with him.

Jeongguk wraps an arm around your thighs again. There’s a dull ache in his shoulder starting to creep up on him from holding himself up for so long on his elbow, careful not to crush you. Gently he pulls your legs down to slowly drag your body down his bed, your back sliding against the pillows to lay flat on the mattress. Jeongguk stops to shuffle himself down until he’s level with you, your hands still wrapped around his arm, and soon enough, he finds himself hitting the pillow beside you.

Jeongguk stares with wide eyes at your sleeping face, fascinated with the pink of your cheek where it had been resting on his shoulder. If you were to wake up now, he thinks, he would have no clue what to even say to you to begin to explain why he’s here, on your bed, lying beside you, eyelids growing heavy with sudden sleepiness. He feels your fingers twitch against his arm before you start to shift, still asleep, lips in a pout as you roll over onto your side, draping an arm across his stomach.

Jeongguk’s eyes snap open, and he wills all the blood in his body to not head south immediately.

He’s never been more tense in his life, and he’ll be very surprised if the rapid beating of his heart doesn’t wake you up. He swallows thickly and dares to look down, relieved to see that you’re still sound asleep, face smushed up against his chest, soft breaths ghosting across his shirt.

You shuffle again, and Jeongguk has no time to try and hold back his gasp when your leg drapes over his thighs, chest rising with surprise. He stares up at the ceiling, holding his breath as you mumble incoherent words unknowingly.

“Noo--” he starts, stopping himself immediately before he can finish. He breaks out into a cold sweat, hands clammy be his side.

The seconds -- minutes -- seem to tick by slower than usual, the traffic outside quieting down until all Jeongguk can hear is the sound of your breaths while you sleep. Gradually, the urge for everything to rush south subsides in favour of his body warming beside yours, a fond smile forming on his lips the longer he looks at you. This close, he swears he can count all your eyelashes, mentally trace patterns with the tiny moles on your cheek and neck, and before he can stop himself, his eyelids begin to grow heavy, certainly too heavy to keep open any longer.

Jeongguk tells himself he’ll just rest his eyes for a few minutes -- staring at the screen was a lot for his eyes, after all -- but inevitably, without meaning to, he falls asleep, face just inches away from yours.

〰️

Before you’ve even opened your eyes, the first thing you notice when you wake up is how much stiffer your pillow seems to be than usual, and the way it seems to rise and fall in time to your breaths.

When it dawns on you what you ‘pillow’ is, you slowly crack one eye open, hesitantly focusing your gaze.

Oh fuck, is your initial thought.

Oh. FUCK, is your second.

You stomach stirs ominously; it’s unpleasant, but tolerable, and definitely better than how it was yesterday. You open both eyes properly to take a look at Jeongguk’s sleeping face, and you curse yourself for staring, completely enamoured by his parted pink lips and the slight flush creeping on his cheek from where its pressed up against your pillow. Every fibre of your being is telling you to look away or push him off the bed and wake him up, but you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to look away, not when Jeongguk’s lips look so ready for a quick peck, or how adorable the fading scars from past pimples scatter his cheeks like faint freckles.

You really should turn away, or at least shut your eyes and pretend to still be asleep in case he wakes up, but you just can’t.

You hold your breath when Jeongguk starts to stir, tongue darting out to lick his chapped lips, nose and eyebrows scrunching up. He takes a deep breath in, and groans slowly as his eyes blink open.

It takes him a moment to properly wake up.

“G’mornin’, noona,” he says, voice croaky and rough with sleep. He clears his throat quietly, one hand reaching up to rub his eyes.

Then, all of a sudden, Jeongguk stops, freezes, before lowering his hand slowly to look at you.

“Noona!” he cries out, jerking back so quickly to create distance between the both of you that he ends up falling off the bed completely. You gasp, scrambling up onto your knees to lean over.

“Jeongguk? You okay?” you ask.

His words come out rapid fire as he quickly gets up to stand, hands frantically trying to tame his hair. “Yep. Mhm. Yep. I’m good. I’m okay.” His eyes look all around the room, anywhere but you, and it’s cute as fuck -- so cute, that you can’t help but smile fondly as he clears his throat and scratches the side of his neck.

“You okay?” you ask again, stretching your hand out. He looks at your hand like it’s the first time he’s ever seen a hand, but takes it eventually, standing to sit down on the edge of your bed.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Well, I-I mean... I fell asleep here... and I probably took up all the space... a-and--”

“Babe. It’s fine.”

“Huh?”

“It’s fine. I’m glad you slept over, actually. It was nice to know someone was watchin’ out for me,” you reply, laughing.

“Oh.” Jeongguk blinks, as if processing the information. “Well, I felt bad -- I still do, honestly. You wouldn’t have gotten sick if I didn’t ask you to have dinner with me.”

You click your tongue.

“I said it last night, and I’m saying it again: Jeon Jeongguk, it’s fine. It happens. Don’t beat yourself up about it,” you say, shuffling over to drape yourself over his back, chin resting on his shoulder, arms loosely locked around his neck. He stiffens a little, and tries his best not to be so obvious with the way he breathes in sharply at the sudden hug. “And you bought me all that stuff. If you owed me because I got sick -- which you definitely don’t -- you’ve already paid it back. Consider yourself a debt free man.”

Jeongguk worries at his bottom lip, fidgeting with his fingers, thoughts running a mile a minute because this is all too much to handle so early in the morning. This close, he can smell your shampoo, and the remnants of your perfume, and he’s a little dizzy with how nice the combination is.

“I mean...” he starts. “If... if you’re sure, noona.”

“A hundred percent,” you reply back instantly. “Don’t worry so much. You’re the last person in Beta Tau to owe me anything right now. You have nothing to feel bad about. ‘Kay?” You see Jeongguk jut his bottom lip out, nodding back in reply anyway.

“Mmkay.”

〰️

“Jeon Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk furrows his brow, Hoseok’s skateboard tucked under his arm, the laces of his sneakers half untied. The sight of Taehyung, Jimin, Hoseok and a disgruntled Yoongi in front of him, arms crossed over their chests, is a strange thing to see at half past ten in the morning, and Jeongguk is undoubtedly confused.

“Uh... yeah?”

“Where’ve you been?” Jimin asks. “You didn’t come home last night.”

Jeongguk clears his throat, and straightens up, shoving his free hand into the pocket of his sweatpants as he toes off his shoes.

“Right. Yeah, um. Sorry.”

“Where’ve you been?” Taehyung says, repeating Jimin’s question.

“Um. The Hot Box?”

“The Hot Box,” Hoseok repeats, eyes narrowing with suspicion. “You spent the night at the Hot Box. And what business do you have over there?”

Jeongguk clears his throat again and sniffs, tampering down the nervousness that’s quickly rising in his chest, instead feigning nonchalance.

“Well, if you must know, hyung,” he replies. “I was taking care of _____ noona.”

Yoongi eyes dart towards the younger, expression giving no clues away.

“‘Taking care of _____’,” Taehyung repeats, fingers curling in the air in makeshift quotation marks.

“Taking care of her... with your dick?” Jimin asks, smirking.

“No,” Jeongguk says, proud of himself for not choking on his own spit at the accusation. “She had -- no, has food poisoning. I was making sure she was okay.”

“Making sure she was okay by giving her a little Netflix and Chill.”

“Yeah, but not in the way you’re implying, hyung. We watched a crime documentary and slept.”

“And did your dick make an appearance, Jeon?” Taehyung asks, sniggering.

“Wh-- no!”

“You’ve slept over at _____’s room twice now, and you’re telling me you two haven’t fucked?” Hoseok asks. “Honestly, I dunno if I’m more surprised by you or her!”

“You idiots woke me up for this?” Yoongi says, sighing and ruffling his hair. “Who cares if Guk and _____ are fuckin’?”

“I do,” Jimin says, jabbing his finger against his chest.

“Why?”

“Because I think it’s only fair that our fellow brother here gets a good piece of ass during his time here. _____ needs a good talking to.”

“Oh. She’s gonna get one,” Taehyung says, nodding firmly.

Jeongguk watches Yoongi shut his eyes and take a long, deep breath in through his nose.

“I’m out,” he says. “You bitches are on a whole ‘nother level of ridiculous.”

Hoseok steps forward towards Jeongguk, draping his arm around the younger’s shoulders as Yoongi shuffles away and back upstairs to his room.

“Dude. You really didn’t bone _____? For reals?” he asks.

“I didn’t,” Jeongguk replies, toeing off his shoes. “You can ask her if you want.”

“Damn. Prayer circle for the Jeon, coming right up,” Taehyung says, frowning.

〰️

You drop your bag down with a loud thud, dropping yourself down onto the bench and leaning over to snatch Taehyung’s drink right out of his grasp, just as he’s about to take a sip.

“That’s it,” you say, sipping loudly on his Coke. “I’m quitting Yoga.”

“Wh-- oh wow, hello,” Jimin says, eyebrows raised as he gives you a onceover.

“Please keep your dick at bay, Park Jimin. I feel like death.”

“Yoga?” Taehyung chuckles, taking his drink back.

“Hot yoga. Jesus fuck, I thought I was gonna pass out doing the goddamn downward dog.” You sigh, tucking a sweaty lock of hair behind your ear. “Where is everyone?”

“It’s Monday morning. Probably asleep.”

“Except Jeongguk. He’s at practice,” Jimin says, leaning over to take a sip from Taehyung’s drink too.

“Oh?” You sit up onto the table, eyebrow raised as you cross your legs. “Swim, or baseball?”

“Can’t remember, but the guy was up at the fuckin’ crack of dawn.”

“I have a question though, o great sister of mine: you really haven’t hooked up with Jeongguk?” Taehyung asks, leaning forward and nudging your yoga pants-covered knee. “Like, legit?”

“Yeah, legit. Why? Is that really so hard to believe?” you ask.

“A little, mainly because he seems like he’s right up your alley.” Taehyung finishes off his drink, before tossing the empty cup into the closest trash can, groaning when it bounces off the rim and falls to the concrete ground, lid popping off on impact. “But, hey. If he’s not your type, he’s not your type.”

“Well... it’s not that he’s not my type, per se...”

“So, you do wanna bone.”

“I mean... if he asked, I wouldn’t say no. I’m not ins--”

“Hey. Wow, you look... gross.”

Three heads turn, watching Hoseok approach the table, Jeongguk and Namjoon following right behind. You scoff at the scowl on Hoseok’s face.

“Dude. Showers exist for a reason,” he says.

“Give me a break. You try doing hot yoga on the cusp of Summer, bitch,” you say.

“No one forced you to join the Yoga Club. That was your choice. And clubs don’t contribute to your grades, so it’s not like you have to do the hot yoga sesh to be able to graduate.”

“Whatever. I’ll leave then if my sweat is so offensive to you, oppa.”

“Ya nasty, _____. Downright nasty.”

You roll your eyes and get off the table, bending down to pick up your bag.

“I actually do have to go though. I have a lab at nine,” you say.

“How fun,” Namjoon says, chuckling.

“Oh, definitely. We’re dissecting spleens today. Joy.”

“I hope you’re gonna shower first,” Hoseok says. “See, you should be more like Jeongguk here. Jeongguk swam, like, ten kilometres, was soaked head to toe in chlorinated water, and still had the decency to take a shower before coming here. Why can’t you be more like Guk here?”

You look over Hoseok’s shoulder to where Jeongguk stands, one strap of his bag slung over his shoulder, giving you a little wave and a shy smile.

“Hey, Guk,” you say, smiling back, glaring at Hoseok briefly, your whole demeanour shifting quickly, depending on who your attention is directed at. “How was practice?”

“Hey. Yeah, it was good, noona,” he replies, carding his fingers through his still-damp hair. “I haven’t swam that much in a while though, so I’m probably gonna be sore for a few days.”

“I’m sure _____’ll be more than happy to give you a massage,” Jimin says, smirking. “Her hands are amazing, dude.”

Jeongguk’s cheeks colour and warm up while you turn to look at Jimin over your shoulder with a pointed look.

“Well these hands won’t be goin’ anywhere near you any time soon, babe,” you say.

“Woah, woah, woah. Wait. That’s not fair!”

“Should’ve thought of that before you said some clown shit, you fool. Alright. I’m off.”

“Wait, noona,” Jeongguk says, hand on your wrist to stop you from walking too far. “When’s your last class today?”

“I’ll be done by three today. You want me to wait for you before we go to Photography?”

“I mean... if that’s okay with you. My last class finishes at four.”

“That’s all good,” you say. “I got some books I need to pick up from the library anyway.”

“Ah. Should I meet you there, noona?”

“If you want. Or I can meet you somewhere closer.”

Jeongguk hums softly, lips pouted as he thinks it over.

“The library should be good,” he replies. “I’ll run over as soon as I’m done.”

“Sounds good -- but you don’t have to literally run, babe.”

“Eh. What’s a light jog in the middle of the day?”

You snort, shaking your head with a laugh.

“Alright, well, I’m off. I’ll see you losers later!” you say, waving over Jeongguk’s shoulder at the rest of the group, who reply with tired waves back.

〰️

“I see we’ve got some new faces,” Jaewon says, rolling a camera lens between his hands, watching as people file into the room. “Hmm? I see the troublemaker’s back.”

“Wow,” you say, scoffing. “You’re really gonna say that when you made me the subject of your last portfolio?”

“You’ve got a pretty face, _____, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re like a goddamn typhoon when it comes to the student body.”

“_____’s got the student body,” Yura says as she walks past, sending a wink your way.

“Glad to see you’ve always got my back, unnie,” you say, laughing.

“Ooh, new guy,” Wheein says, sidling up to Jaewon. “Wow. Look at that jawline. That shit could cut a brick.”

“Guys, this is Jeongguk. Guk, this is Jaewon oppa, president of the club; Yura unnie, the secretary; and Wheein unnie, the treasurer.”

“Hello. It’s nice to meet you guys,” Jeongguk says, bowing his head in greeting.

“Hey, as VP, couldn’t you make more of an effort to get here earlier? You should be setting an example to the rest of the club members,” Jaewon sighs, nudging your shoulder with the camera lens.

“Hey, I got here, didn’t I?” you reply. “And besides, I waited for Jeongguk to finish class so that we could walk here together. It’s his first meeting and all.”

“Yeah, yeah. Alright. Let’s get started. Everyone, grab a seat!”

〰️

“Well, we’re getting closer to the Summer break. Should we set a little project, kids?” Jaewon asks; he’s met with a room of groans.

“Hey, c’mon, guys,” you say, laughing from where you’re sitting on the edge of the table. “It’s not gonna be that bad. It’s not even mandatory. It’s just a club, remember?”

“Way to keep them motivated, VP. Anyway, in the spirit of photography, we’re gonna set a little project for you kids. We want you guys to build up a portfolio of pictures that showcases your Summer.”

“It doesn’t have to be a huge portfolio,” you add. “It can have as little or as many photos as you want, just as long as it captures the essence of your beautiful time away from these lecture theatres.”

“We’re planning on having the presentations on the second meeting after the Summer break, just to give you guys some time to edit the photos and compile everything together, but you’ll have the whole break to take all the photos you want.”

“The next few meetings until the break’ll be some time to plan out your portfolios and take some test shots around campus, if you so please. It’s a free for all; you pick your photos and topics. Everyone just remember the club rules—”

“No nudes, no lewds, no boobs,” Jaewon finishes.

“It’s a damn shame, honestly,” Wheein says as the club members disperse, sliding off the table she was sitting on to cross the room and grab her camera. “_____ photographs so well when she’s naked.”

The club sniggers and you laugh loudly, amused by the scandalised look on Jaewon’s face.

“Why do you act like you’ve never seen _____ naked?” Yura asks, shoving Jaewon’s shoulder. “I saw your fucking portfolio’s B-cuts, idiot.”

“What a church boy,” Wheein says, grinning as she wraps an arm around Yura’s waist, chin resting on her shoulder.

“Well... I don’t think I’ve ever met a church boy who sends dick pics to the entire yoga club — allegedly by accident.”

“That was no fuckin’ accident.”

“Jeongguk, right?”

“Um, yep,” Jeongguk asks, frozen at your side.

“You’re not a church boy, are you?”

“Um... not that I’m aware of, no?”

Yura and Wheein look at you pointedly; you shrug dismissively in reply.

〰️

“You know some... interesting people, noona,” Jeongguk says, chuckling as you both walk out of the club room, slinging his bag onto his shoulder.

“I’m sure you’ll meet a few characters while you’re here, babe,” you laugh. “You’re in two clubs and two varsity sports teams.”

“It’s funny. I thought I needed to join more clubs, because I was worried I wasn’t in enough. But I dunno if I could handle more than what I already have.”

“Mmm, I think you’re good for now. You’re in more than everyone else at Beta Tau. I think those guys are more interested in maintaining their place at the frat, to be honest.”

“That’s fair, I guess.”

“What are you doing for the rest of the night?” you ask.

“Not sure, but I’m exhausted,” Jeongguk replies, running his fingers through his hair.

“Oh yeah. You’ve been up for a while, huh?” He hums in reply.

“Gonna take a while to get used to this routine, I think.”

You bring Jeongguk over to one of the last remaining food trucks on campus, the smell of hot soup and spicy rice cakes rich in the air.

“Let’s grub, bub,” you say, nodding your head in greeting to the vendor, pulling out one of the plastic stools under the bench, Jeongguk following suit as he drops his bag at his feet.

“Damn. This smells so good,” he says, taking a deep breath.

“Auntie Choi’s the best on campus. You can never go wrong with her food.”

Auntie Choi scoffs, waving her hand dismissively as she laughs quietly and serves you both a bowl of noodles, eventually turning her attention back to cutting up and skewering fish cakes.

“Thank you for the food,” you and Jeongguk say, snapping your chopsticks and digging in.

Jeongguk groans with a mouthful of noodles as he looks at you, and you completely understand, without words, what he’s trying to say. The food is really damn good, there’s absolutely no denying it, and you won’t be even a tiny bit surprised if Jeongguk himself becomes a regular customer just like you.

A bowl of noodles, two plates of spicy rice cakes, and an argument over who was paying — you won eventually — later, the both of you head back to the houses, Jeongguk, once again, dropping you off at the sorority first before he heads back to Beta Tau.

You’re halfway through your nighttime skincare routine when your phone pings with a new message.

< noona, do you have any camera recommendations?? i forgot to ask you earlier at dinner hehe >

“Cute,” you say quietly as you finish rubbing moisturiser into you skin before you reply to him.

The conversation lasts well into the night, the both of you falling asleep somewhere around half past one, in the middle of sharing vine compilations, and you letting Jeongguk know of the inner workings of the Beta Tau Fraternity.

“Woah, dude. You good?” Namjoon says the next morning, eyebrows furrowed as he holds a hand out to stop Jeongguk from walking any further down the hall. “Did you not sleep?”

“Huh?” Jeongguk asks, ruffling his hair mid-yawn. “Oh. Yeah, I’m good, hyung. Just had a late night.”

“Thought you would’ve knocked out in an instant. You were up even earlier than me and Jin hyung yesterday.”

Jeongguk chuckles tiredly, saying, “yeah, I was pretty exhausted; but, uh... I was talking to _____ noona last night. Lost track of the time I guess.”

“Ah.”

Jeongguk looks at Namjoon, and hates the look the elder gives him.

“Don’t, hyung,” he groans. “I don’t need you giving me shit too.”

“Alright, alright,” Namjoon replies, chuckling.

“Why does everyone react like that anytime I bring up _____ noona?”

“I guess she has... somewhat of a reputation.”

“What, because she sleeps with a lot of people? But she’s a straight A student too. Why doesn’t anyone focus on that?”

Namjoon shrugs, saying, “dunno, but I feel like she’s kind of made her reputation more about her... ‘sleeping habits’, rather than her academic standing.”

“Huh?”

Chuckling, Namjoon pats Jeongguk’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it, Guk. If you enjoy her company, you enjoy her company. _____’s honestly pretty entertaining ninety-nine percent of the time. She’s a good study buddy, good friend, and... I’ll admit it: she’s great in bed too.”

“Wait, wh—”

“Go to class, dude. I gotta go take a shower.”

#jungkook #jeon jeongguk #bts #bangtan #bts scenarios #fratboy!au #me: crawls out of the sewer to post #also me: crawls back in

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mordellestories · 5 years ago

Text

The Haunted Couch

A Beetlejuice AU fanfic. Rated M.

Part 1

"Marriage is bullshit," Lydia muttered bitterly while weaving her way through all the junk that was leftover from an estate sale.

"It doesn't have to be," Bertha chimed in with optimism. Her smile fell. "Divorce is definitely bullshit."

"No," Lydia argued, "divorce is more like hippo-shit."

Bertha barked out a laugh as she checked out a crooked standing lamp. "What?"

Lydia picked up a rusty hose nozzle from the pile of odd trinkets on a table. "Ever see a hippo take a crap?" She nodded sagely. "Sprays shit everywhere. Like throwing a pile of shit at a fan on high." She waved her hands wildly and then pointed the nozzle at her best friend. "It's only aim is to soil everything in the vicinity."

"Shit." Bertha frowned with concern.

"Hippo-shit." Lydia agreed.

Lydia had become so bitter and rightly so, but she hoped this day out shopping for her new apartment would lift her spirits. Lydia should have known better. If her husband - no, ex-husband - Vincent had not ruined the best years of her life, she wouldn't be in the position she was now; divorced, broke, and living in a moldy apartment that she was pretty sure was being illegally rented out to her.

"I think you need a hobby," Bertha advised. "Oh! Maybe get back into photography!" She held up an old film camera and waved it excitedly in Lydia's direction. Her friend scowled the instant she laid eyes on it. "I know you blame him for quitting your dreams, but you used to love it! And it's never too late to start over or change careers."

Lydia turned away from the offending thing in Bertha's hands. "Change what career? I have no career. Threw my career in the toilet for that," she growled and picked up a samurai sword, "cheating, sack of human garbage!"

Bertha sighed but kept the camera on-hand. "Put the weapon down, and let's just try to find something for your place."

"I should never have signed that prenup," Lydia grumbled as she checked the sword’s sharpness. It was dull. As dull as her pathetic new life was turning out to be.

At least Lydia would leave this place with something, well, she hoped. There was so much stuff laid out everywhere, and she was surprised that the site wasn't overrun with people. The owner of all the junk had been standing on the street corner with a bullhorn, sounding like a bad infomercial. He got a lot of attention, but not the kind he wanted. Lydia thought it was funny, and she was looking to furnish her place. Most things were priced reasonably, but she couldn't afford much. What Lydia really needed was furniture. She'd been eating her meals on the floor for two weeks. The little money that her considerate husband had given her would run out soon if she didn't find a job, and she was still unwilling to take up her father's offer of financial help.

Financial help being taking up the job that Delia had offered her to be her personal assistant. Lydia would stoop to survive on locusts before she'd ever work for that woman.

After claiming the dining set and kitchen supplies, Bertha and Lydia made their way to the guy in charge.

When Lydia saw Bertha taking out her wallet, she stopped her. "I'm not letting you pay for my stuff."

"I'm not gonna," Bertha defended. "I'm buying this." She placed the camera on the table next to the cash box.

"That was the top of the line back in the day," the man behind the table said. "Took good care of it too, it's like new. Eighty bucks and you can walk outta here with a vintage that-- "

Lydia raised a suspicious eyebrow at her friend. "Am I to believe you have a sudden interest in photography?"

"It's a gift." Bertha cleared her throat. "For a friend."

"No, Bertha."

"Yes."

"No. Even at that price, it's too expensive." She turned to the man. "Yeah, she's not getting that."

"Ahem, eighty dollars is not expensive for something like this," Bertha said then turned to the man as well. "Right?"

The guy scowled. "I can let it go for sixty. It's been a slow day."

"See?" Bertha beamed at her friend. "I'll take it!"

Lydia blushed with embarrassment and turned away while Bertha chatted up the dude. She continued scanning the lawn as she eavesdropped and noticed a For Sale sign on the lawn, the picture of a realtor with the fakest smile Lydia had ever seen plastered on her face. Jane Butterfield, Lydia read as the man introduced himself. The man's name was Barry Menot, and he needed to sell everything, including the house, because of a divorce.

Lydia whirled around. "Did you cheat, or did she?

"Lydia!" Bertha's mouth hung open in shock.

"Um," Barry scratched the back of his head nervously and sent his gaze sideways, "I guess you could say she did?" He chuckled mirthlessly and started to sweat.

Lydia narrowed her eyes and looked to where his gaze had landed. All she saw was a striped vintage looking couch. The stripes were black and white with engraved wood trimming painted black. It was beautiful and very much Lydia's style. Well, her old style. Dark and strange. Goth-like. How she used to be before her prince, Vince, robbed her of that too. The sofa was way too pretty to be cheap.

Lydia asked, anyway. "How much for the sofa?"

Barry choked on air and stared at her with wide, scared eyes. "Y-you mean, the black and white futon?"

Futon? "Uh, no, that nice victorian-looking one," she pointed.

Barry did an exaggerated double-take and sputtered. "Oh!" He paled visibly. "Yeah, that one. Um, name your price!" He laughed, sounding a bit deranged.

Lydia considered him a moment longer. Obviously, there was something wrong with the couch. "Nevermind, I don't have any more room in the budget."

"Okay, then just take it!" Barry exclaimed a bit too loud. "Free."

Bertha elbowed her friend. "Gosh, mister! That's awfully nice of you--"

"Yeah, that's nice, but I'm not looking to date." Lydia turned around and made to leave, but Barry grabbed her arm. She sent him a glare of death, and he let go at once as if burned.

"Sorry! I just - I mean - no, that's no - um, look, me either. I just got divorced!" He let out another crazed laugh. "That couch ruined my marriage!"

"What? How--"

"No, no. I meant - I mean - it holds a lot of bad memories for me. I was gonna junk it if no one took it." Barry's eyes widened pleadingly.

Bertha looked between the two and decided to jump in. "Okay, we'll take it! Right, Lydia?" She elbowed her again.

"Sure," Lydia relented dubiously.

The haul was fruitful, in Lydia's opinion. She now had an oak dining room set, essential kitchenware, a simple black nightstand from IKEA, a standing lamp... and the odd but beautiful sofa. Lydia, Bertha, and her other friend, Prudence, stood next to each other and stared at the couch while Adam, Lydia's godfather, pushed it against the wall in the living room.

"You sure there's nothing wrong with it?" Lydia asked. "No rats, or termites, or anything?"

"Positive, sweetie," Adam replied as he patted the couch and then gave it a good shake. "Solid wood. Definitely an antique but well cared for. It's a great find!"

"See?" Said Bertha. "Not all men are evil, bastards."

Adam widened his eyes. "Well, I would hope not."

Lydia rolled her eyes and smirked. "Adam, you're the only good man in this world, and Barbara is lucky to have you."

"Nah," he waved away her comment. "I'm lucky to have her!"

The man was just too sweet. Lydia smiled. "Thanks for helping me out, Adam."

Her godfather gave her a hug. "Anytime. Come by for dinner tomorrow, okay? You live a lot closer now, and we've really missed you, kiddo!"

Lydia felt awful suddenly. "Yeah, yeah. Of course. I'm pretty settled already. I miss Barbara's cooking." She hadn't visited her godparents in over two years. Her husband didn't like traveling out to the sticks.

Engaged at nineteen years old. Married ten years. Ten years! And, now she'd be thirty by the time her divorce went through. Sad, sad... sad.

Lydia watched her friends, and her godfather drive off as she waved from her front door.

Why couldn't Lydia have found a man like Adam instead of a rich, mama's boy, who suddenly decided he identified as polyamorous after he was caught with his dick in Claire Brewster's preppy, bald cunt. Because he was tall, dark, and handsome, and filthy rich, Lydia chided herself internally. And I was stupid.

She sighed and entered her lonely, almost bare apartment. A little mewl called out to her from her bedroom. At least she wasn't entirely alone. Lydia opened her bedroom door, and a lanky black cat rubbed against her leg before heading to his bowl of food.

"At least we got each other, right, Percy?"

Meow.

Even though Adam was the perfect husband, he was perfect for Barbara. Make no mistake, Lydia loved her godfather, but he was just so, so, so boring. Lydia had always wanted to live a unique and adventurous life. Vince had provided that because he had the money to keep her on her toes. They traveled the world together, rubbing elbows with many of her idols. He had catered to her every whim. At first.

Money was not a big deal for Lydia. She would have been happy working at something she enjoyed doing like photography or designing clothes, heck, even work at a nice gallery. Vince had enticed her to a life of gallivanting around the globe instead. That was okay because she was in love. She was an idiot. That life lasted about five years, and then they settled down right next door to her horrible mother-in-law. They tried to have kids, but it just didn't pan out. At around the seven-year-itch, Vince's mummy dearest started pressuring Lydia into trying fertility treatments, but Lydia put her foot down. She decided that adoption would be good enough for her, but Vince's mother was disgusted with that idea. Of course, Vince took mommy's side. Things went downhill from there.

Lydia knew she should have left Vince sooner, but at the time, she just couldn't find a good enough reason to leave him. It seemed selfish to leave her husband because she was unhappy. They tried couples therapy, but nothing changed. She saw less and less of her husband as the days went by. They were both aimless and just barely tolerating each other. The final straw was the cheating. Lydia knew Vince was screwing around for years, but she couldn't prove it. Like all affairs tend to be unveiled, it happened by accident. The moron had left his iPad laying around, and Lydia saw the text messages.

The divorcee made herself a cup of tea and sat at her new dining table. "I guess ramen for dinner again, huh, Percy?"

Meow.

Lydia sipped her tea and looked out of her curtainless window. It was already dark, even though it was only six-thirty. The clouds parted, and Lydia gasped at the full moon that was revealed to her. It cast an eerie light into the room, and very suddenly, Lydia felt as if she was no longer alone.

Not like she felt happy, content, or at peace, or anything like that. No, no. She literally felt like there was someone else in the apartment - watching her.

She shuddered. Slowly, Lydia turned in her seat towards her living room, fully expecting someone to be there. There was no one, but the feeling of being watched remained. Swallowing down her tea hard, Lydia stood and wandered to the area. The light of the moon blanketed the striped sofa. For a long moment, Lydia's imagination ran wild because the ridiculous thought that the couch was leering at her entered her mind.

Quickly, Lydia flicked the switch on the wall, and the light turned on. She scoffed and shook her head at the sofa — what a weird thing to think. Couches can't leer. She laughed softly, turned off the light, and headed to her bedroom. Before she closed the door to her bathroom within, Lydia thought she heard someone snicker.

Must have been Percy.

The couch was haunted.

It was the only explanation.

Lydia was just about going bonkers at the amount of weird shit going on, and she had tried to rationalize it away with every sane, logical, and sensible explanation she could come up with.

The first week since the sofa was placed in her home, Lydia continued to feel the odd sensation of being watched whenever she was near it. It was so unsettling that Lydia avoided sitting on the damned piece of furniture even when she finally got a TV. It was ridiculous, and Lydia knew this, but even Percy was avoiding the living room entirely. Sometimes that cat would just sit on the dining room table and stare at the sofa, ears flattened, tail a bit puffy and twitching, and pupils blown wide.

Lydia had finally landed a temporary job at a Spirit Halloween store that still had Toys R Us decals and ads on the walls. She started working right away. She was getting home late because she had no car and had to bike six miles back home. Not a long ways away, but Lydia was out of shape, even though she was still a twig, and had to stop often to catch her breath and rest her screaming legs.

So, on day six of her trudging through the first week of employment, all Lydia wanted in the whole wide world was to shower, eat her burrito bowl, and vegetate in front of the TV to watch The Haunting of Hill House on her stolen Netflix account - and-just-fucking-unwind.

Lydia had entered her apartment with purpose. She was going to sit on that damned sofa and get over her paranoia. It was just a couch for Pete's sake! With narrowed eyes and steeled nerves, Lydia slammed the door behind her and looked pointedly at the ominous piece of furniture. She could swear it was staring back. The minutes ticked away during the childish Mexican standoff, but Lydia finally hung her bag and keys on the foyer rack, never taking her eyes off the sofa.

"I'm going to shower." She said out loud as if the couch were sentient. "Then I'm going to watch tv."

Only silence ensued, but the air seemed charged with provocation as if the sofa was silently daring her to make good on her promise. The energy in the room was almost suffocating, and Lydia swore she heard the couch groan. Quick as a whip, Lydia switched the light on in the living room, and the overwhelming sensation was gone in a blink as if it had never happened.

Because it didn't, she scolded herself. You're tired, and you've never lived on your own.

Lydia left the light on, regardless of her rationalizing and made straight for her bathroom. She liked her showers piping hot, never settling for a temperature less than what would inevitably leave her looking like a boiled lobster by the end of it. As the steam filled the bathroom, and the hot water hit her skin, Lydia sighed contentedly. This was the highlight of her daily existence now. The shower was a safe space, and Lydia could let her mind wander without becoming too attached to her problems. It was almost meditative, and it was the only place she would allow herself to picture a better life and believe it was possible to attain.

While her thoughts ran amok, she acknowledged her earlier realization; she'd never lived alone before. She'd lived with her parents, then shared a dorm in college, and then moved in with Vince after that. Annoyed with herself for not celebrating that she could now be her own woman and a self-sufficient adult, Lydia wondered what dating app she should try. Hadn't she sworn off men? Should she try dating women? Why couldn't she just shut the door on romantic love and focus on loving herself for once! Regardless of her depreciative musings, she couldn't help visualizing the perfect man.

He didn't have to be handsome - look at where that had gotten her. He didn't have to be rich - it would probably trigger her anyhow. He didn't even have to be that young - maybe a more experienced man would actually be able to get her off once in a while. He just needed to love her, really love her. He needed to contribute to their home. He needed to compliment her flaws and be less like her. She wanted someone with a sense of adventure, who could take charge and - oh - it'd be great if he had a sense of humor! That was more important to her than the occasional good sex requirement. Vince had been such a bore! Her ex could only rely on his money to keep Lydia entertained, and he never got her jokes. True, Lydia had a dark sense of humor, but she could make others laugh with her deadpan wit, except Vince.

The shower dipped below Lydia's standards, and she groaned with disappointment. The loud squeak of the nobs turning while she shut the water off was enough to feel like she crash-landed back to reality. The high-pitched noise was so grating, she shuddered. Before Lydia could spiral thinking about her real problems, like how she was going to pay for her student loans - good God, how am I going to pay for my student loans? The growl from her angry stomach veered her away from imagining herself pole dancing at the Beaver Barn two blocks down.

There were more important things to do than panic over bills and plummeting credit scores, like slipping into the baggiest give-up-on-life pants and an oversized hoodie. Then nuking her leftover burrito bowl and --

Lydia halted at the living room as she towel-dried her hair. She looked around, feeling something was off. Off...

The light was off.

Lydia had positively left the light on. Or did she? Exhaustion won over trepidation as she made her way to the couch. Standing before it, towel in one hand and a plate of food in the other, Lydia sighed and shook her head.

"Stupid."

She plopped down on the sofa and paused to see if it would swallow her whole and send her into another dimension. She bounced the cushion for good measure. Damn, this couch is comfy! Then she shrugged, crossed her legs, and hit the power button on the tv remote. Lydia let out a snicker as she powered up the Apple TV that she'd stolen from her previous life and excitedly hit the play button on episode two of her new favorite show.

A loud yowl nearly sent Lydia into cardiac arrest, and she snapped her gaze to the dining area. Percy was sitting at the junction between the cheap linoleum of the dining room and the living room carpet.

"Percy!" She scolded and chuckled with relief. "You scared me. Come," she patted the seat next to her, wiggled her fingers, and made kissy noises, but Percy would not budge.

HISSSS!

Lydia flinched at Percy's new noise. She'd never heard him hiss before. His tailed puffed and twitched, and he looked pretty pissed.

"Fine." As odd as that had been, she was too engrossed with what was happening on screen.

Burrito bowl thoroughly scarfed, eyelids heavy, and body slouching forward, Lydia willed herself to stay awake to finish episode four--

She passed out.

With a loud gasp, Lydia shot to sitting and looked around wildly while she panted. What happened? Where was she? Her eyes landed on the TV, the annoying "are you still watching" message on the screen. What-- oh. She was in the living room. On the sofa. She must have fallen asleep on the sofa. Why is it so hot?

Despite the chill in the air, Lydia was sweating, her heart was racing, and her panties were--

It was then she realized she'd been having the most erotic dream ever, and yet she couldn't remember anything about it. The only thing she knew was that her orgasm was incredibly intense, stronger than any other she'd ever experienced, which really wasn't saying much in her case.

Lydia laughed out loud - she had a wet dream. There was still a satisfying little ache between her legs. She squirmed a bit, stretched, and languidly made her way to her bed. Whatever the dream was about, she hoped she'd have another one before morning.

What sounded like snickering echoed in the hall before she closed her door. Maybe it's rats.

It was not rats.

The incident could have been overlooked. After all, it was not like anything out of the ordinary had happened. Lydia had fallen asleep on the couch and had a sexy dream. What's strange about that? Nothing. Except that two days later, Lydia had fallen asleep on the couch again only to experience the same thing. The only difference from the first time was that Lydia remembered one detail from her dream; black and white stripes. That made sense, didn't it? The couch was striped. She'd conked out on said couch.

But things got weirder.

The living room light kept going out, and on one odd occasion, it turned on all by itself. Obviously, her shitty apartment had electrical issues. The Haunting of Hill House would come on during the night, waking Lydia. Perhaps she left the tv on, and Percy sat on the remote. Yeah, that's it. And was that moss that had grown on one of the armrests? Odd. Maybe Lydia dragged it in when she used the shortcut through the old, foresty cemetery. She'd seen moss on the trunks, certainly. Yeah. The couch would groan at the oddest moments, like when Lydia would give into her guilty pleasure of watching old episodes of Grey's Anatomy. Or, when Lydia decided not to watch tv and head straight for bed. Or when Lydia finally made her profile on Bumble. Then there was the time the sofa pinched her ass. Or, rather, Lydia sat on something pinchy. That had to be it, but she couldn't find the culprit for the life of her.

Look, it's not like Lydia was completely oblivious. She'd watched enough horror films to know that her place was haunted, or, more specifically, the couch was possessed. She wasn't an idiot. But there's always that inner skeptic that pushes obvious signs aside or squashes any thoughts of the supernatural down into "the nope vault." Everyone does it, even the ones who want to believe - and Lydia wanted to believe once upon a time. Now she was pretty sure she had a horny poltergeist sleazing around in the upholstery of her beautiful sofa, and she wasn't sure she wanted to believe any longer. So, her brain did its damndest to ignore the strange and unusual happenings that had become a daily occurrence.

But after seven thunderously climactic occurrences on that godsend of a sofa, it could no longer be ignored. Lydia remembered more details of her dreams each time. There was wiry, white-blond hair, blue eyes, pale hands, and stripes. Lydia was sure it was the same man in the dreams, but she could only hold on to glimpses and never remember the face.

Although the orgasms were terrific and very much appreciated - truly grateful, she was - the dreams were getting downright creepy. In fact, she wasn't so sure they were dreams anymore. More like nightmares. Or worse, real.

Bah! Psh. Nah... Well... only one way to find out.

Lydia's place was mostly decorated, even if all the furniture was mismatched, so she wasn't too embarrassed to have her friends over for dinner and wine. Bertha and Prudence were a bit tentative and awkward at first, which made Lydia feel nervous. She'd been awful at keeping in touch with them after college, but when they started meeting up towards the end of her marriage, things seemed to go back to how they used to be after some alcohol and time. Hence, the wine was already served before they even knocked on the door.

Mostly they just caught each other up with happenings since the last time they saw each other. As the wine dwindled, so did the nerves, and they were back to their old selves. Lydia sighed with relief when Bertha let out some incredibly crass things to say over dinner. They nearly choked on their food as they laughed. It was turning out to be such a great night, and Lydia wondered why she hadn't done this sooner.

Right. The haunted couch.

There was only a smidge of guilt as Lydia ushered the women to the living room after dinner.

"You girls get comfy, I'll get the cheesecake!" Lydia dashed the fridge and removed the desert. Then she quickly stood at the edge of the dining room and watched her friends take their seats.

Both Prudence and Bertha sat on the sofa.

Lydia waited.

"Lyds?" Prudence called. "Everything all right?"

They were staring at her with concern. "Yep," she smiled and walked to the green armchair she had gotten at GoodWill. "I'm just really happy we've reconnected. I know I haven't really..." she trailed off and placed the cheesecake, paper plates, and plastic forks on the coffee table.

"Life happens, girl," Bertha consoled. "Pru and I weren't much better at reaching out."

"Yeah," Prudence lamented, "I'm sorry."

"Me too," Lydia nodded and pursed her lips.

"Okay!" Bertha exclaimed and rubbed her hands together. "Now that we've got that awkward business outta the way, let's dig in! I fucking love cheesecake." She served herself and took a bite before anyone else could. "Mmm!" She let out the most obscene moan.

Lydia snapped her head up with wide eyes, thinking the couch had already put the moves on Bertha.

"Have I ever told ya" Bertha said with her mouthful, "bout the time I smeared cheesecake on a guys dick--"

"Oh, God..." Prudence closed her eyes and prepared.

"-- because he tasted so nasty! It worked. If you ever run into that problem..." She lifted her plate of cake and nodded with a wink.

"Christ," Lydia breathed, but she and Pru giggled hysterically anyway.

The three continued to talk and reminisce. By the time they were on the third bottle of wine, Lydia had forgotten all about her other goal of the night.

Until...

"Fuckn'-A!" Bertha tugged on her blouse, trying to air it out. "It's so hot. It's hot, right?"

Prudence shrugged, but Lydia immediately grew suspicious.

"Maybe it's the wine," Prudence offered. "I'm feeling a bit h-warm, but it's nice," she all but slurred.

"Yeah, right. The wine," Lydia agreed. That made sense, but she narrowed her eyes at Bertha, who shifted in her seat and furrowed her brow. "You okay? I can lower the AC."

Lydia didn't wait for Bertha to respond. She got up and lowered the temperature even though the thermostat read sixty-one degrees. Lydia could feel the wine, but she wasn't sweating. Bertha was dripping sweat, and Prudence was shiny and flushed.

"Hmm," Bertha hummed and stared into her glass of wine with a quirk of her brow and a frown. "Y'all ever get horny after drinking wine?"

Prudence snorted and then giggled like a virgin.

Lydia nodded and realized her mistake in the choice of alcohol. Drinks usually left her feeling a slight sense of arousal too, and wine was most effective to induce that sensation. Damn it, Lydia thought. Now she would never know it was the sofa--

"Wow," Bertha's eyes fluttered, "I've, um, I know I bought this before..." she closed her eyes. "Never, uh, never... felt so... oh shiiiiit..."

It was then that Lydia heard a mousy, hiccup-like laugh, and when she set her eyes on Prudence, she found the ginger was scarlet, blotches of red on her face, neck, and ears. And she looked terribly embarrassed.

It was definitely the sofa.

Lydia's eyes bugged out as she switched her gaze between the women. Lydia was momentarily horrified with herself. She'd subjected her friends to molestation via a lecherous couch. They seemed happy, though, and suddenly Lydia was feeling something else.

Anger.

So, the sofa was not monogamous, huh? Just like her fucking ex-husband. How dare the couch-bastard feel up her friends! Right in front of her no less!

"Off." Lydia blurted out with a frown.

The women looked up at her and froze with guilty faces.

Bertha cleared her throat. "Um, what?" Her pitch was higher than usual.

"Off. The. Couch," Lydia pronounced.

Prudence rocketed off the sofa and adjusted her clothes, pinching her jeans at the thighs and pulling them down a bit. "You know, um, it's getting late," Prudence squeaked.

"Yeah, it is," Lydia agreed with a sneer.

"I'm too drunk to drive," Bertha whined and squirmed in her seat again.

Lydia held up her phone. "Lyft ordered. Two minutes."

"Lydiaaaa," Bertha pleaded, "can't I just stay here and sleep on the sofa?"

"NO!" Lydia shot out of her chair and snatched Bertha's glass out of her hands. "It's not the wine that's messing with you," she confessed. "It's the couch."

Her guests looked at each other and then back to their host with furrowed brows. Oh, well, now she put her foot in it. What the hell was she going to say? That the sofa was possessed by a predatory phantom Don Juan, and that she was jealous?

JEALOUS?!

"I just realized I cleaned it with some strong stuff, and we've been inhaling the fumes this whole time!" The lie came easily, half sober.

"Oh, my!" Prudence declared and stumbled away from the furniture.

Bertha looked slightly concerned but didn't budge, so Lydia continued. "My grandmother almost died mopping her floor from cleaning chemicals, Bertha! Who knows what it's doing to your brain cells?!"

"Bertha, get off the couch!" Prudence shrieked.

Finally, Bertha sighed and pushed herself up on unsteady legs. "Fine," she pouted and collected her things.

Prudence was scurrying around and opening all the windows in the apartment when the notification came that their ride was outside. Lydia ushered them out the door as quickly as possible and assured them she'd be alright, promising to turn on all the fans and air out the place. She waved at them as they rode off, a forced smile plastered on her face until the car disappeared.

Once her friends were out of sight, Lydia about-faced and stormed into her apartment, slamming the front door.

With a face that screamed murder, Lydia jutted an angry finger at the sofa and seethed.

"You motherfucker," she groused.

She ran to the couch, picked up a decorative pillow, and began whacking it with enough force to send a dust and lint cloud into the air around her.

Lydia yelled in between hits. "Dead...," WHACK, "or alive," WHACK, "you're all," WHACK, "the same!" WHACK. "I'll gut...," WHACK, "your stuffings out!"

WHACK-WHACK-WACK

Lydia's fury was volcanic. She hadn't even been that angry with Vince, and from an outsider's perspective, a woman beating the shit out of a couch because she thought it was cheating on her was outrageously ludicrous. It was that notion that made Lydia stumble backward and away from the abused furniture only to start laughing in a hysterical fit.

"Oh, I'm losing my goddamn mind!" She continued laughing and wiping away her tears. "Jesus Christ, Lydia, get a grip. It's just... a couch."

The memory of its previous owner came to her in a sudden flash. Barry had said the couch had ruined his marriage. She panted and stared at the womanizing sofa for a long moment and came to a decision.

Lydia needed to find Barry.

To Be Continued...

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

AN: Thank you for reading! I’d love to know what you think of this so far!

I hope to finish this story soon and post the whole thing as a oneshot on Ao3 and FF. You can subscribe to me on either site to get the update of when it’s posted (search for mordelle) or just keep a look out here on tumblr!

Please like, comment, send asks, or reblog if you enjoyed this! It always makes my day.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

#Beetlejuice #Beetlejuice cartoon #beetlejuice movie #lydia deetz #adult lydia deetz #adult!lydia #adultlydia #adultbeetlebabes #beetlelyds #Beetlejuice/Lydia #Beetlejuice au #The Haunted Couch #mordellestories

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jazillia007 · 5 years ago

Text

Thoughts on 2x13 - Part 2

Beth and Rio:

So while watching this episode I thought the moments BEFORE the kidnapping and shooting were actually interesting and a good follow up to what had happened in episode 12.

From Beth's point of view, she is nothing more than work for Rio. And honestly, when it comes to the crime part she IS a lot of work for Rio. And I was with Rio for being pissed at her, finding out all the rotten eggs she left behind left and right.

Still she goes to Rio to ask for help and it was heartbreaking to me to see the dismantled apartment but I also thought it was so in character for Rio. He can't trust Beth. With the FEDs breathing up her and therefore his neck, it's only logical for him to abandon his apartment.

I don't really know though why she broke in again. What did Beth try to achieve?

Then Rio is calling her and it was... awkward. I wouldn't call it sweet. It was also a bit weird that Rio made it sound like she called him when actually he called her.

He also tested her. Is Beth gonna lie again? And she did. She wasn't able to tell him that she is in his apartment to ask for help. I don't really understand this either other than for the writers to establish there are cameras in his apartment.

It's not well-written.

Then he hangs up on her and I thought it would've been much better if Beth had called him (if she had his number) and then Rio would've ended the call. But this way it was a bit meh.

I also wouldn't have minded if this would've been the last we would've seen/heard of Rio in season 2. Because honestly I believe if he wanted to he could just disappear for a while until the FEDs calm down.

And then to have him come back in season 3... that would've been nice.

But that's not who Rio is. Beth is his weakness. And despite his own codes he can't stop himself from helping.

That's what this season established.

This season did everything despite them being dysfunctional and problematic that Beth and Rio are more than business partners and that Beth is more to Rio – despite him being usually very careful – and Rio is more to Beth. I'm not talking about some big love story here with a happy ending. But of a complicated relationship with many layers and definitely conflicts but conflicts they overcome.

But then the writers decided to destroy (?) it.

(SPOILERS FOR KILLING EVE SEASON 1 AND 2)

Beth and Rio and the last scene:

As I said before I could've seen Beth and Rio ending up in a situation where they either shoot eachother OR have to decide to shoot the other one or not. But it all depended on how well-written it is.

I'm watching Killing Eve as well and I really don't want to compare Killing Eve with Good Girls because writing-wise there are worlds between these two shows. Killing Eve is well-written, delicate and perfect. Meanwhile Good Girls certainly has its moments but is sloppily written most of the times.

BUT what these two shows have in common is that they have two seasons which ended on similar notes. And I was so in awe when I watched the Killing Eve season 2 finale and right afterwards the Good Girls season 2 finale. Because it made clear why I loved the Killing Eve season finale so much while I didn't like the season finale of Good Girls.

And it all comes down to how it's written and how things are foreshadowed.

The relationship of Eve and Villainelle from the beginning is a relationship of obsession and fascination. It would take up too much time to write about them and all the layers involved but we can say their relationship is as dysfunctional as Beth and Rio (and up until the shooting scene in 2x13 even with the not well-written parts Brio as exactly that made sense to me as well).

There is this cat and mouse game between these two women which ends up with Eve in Villainelle's apartment (and Beth ends up in Rio's apartment) and Eve stabs Villainelle. She panics, trying to find something to stop the bleeding and Villainelle is defending herself by firing in Eve's direction before fleeing.

It's such a culmination of what had went down in season 1. It was shocking but also very much in character with how Villainelle and Eve were established. It was a twist but it didn't feel cheap or just to keep viewers watching. It felt organic.

In the Good Girls season 1 finale we had a similar scene and it felt very organic to me as well. Beth had set up Rio to go to jail and of course she hadn't thought things through. And it all got back to her, with Rio sitting in her dining room with her shitty husband all beaten up. And he gives her the opportunity to shoot either him or Dean to make them even.

It set up very well the dynamic of their relationship. How dysfunctional they're but at the same time can't get enough of eachother. The season ends with the viewer not knowing what Beth is gonna do. It could've felt cheap but it didn't.

We get the end of that scene in the beginning of season 2 and Beth can't do it and Rio is taking the gun from her, telling her she did her best. And then he is shooting Dean and they're even now.

If you think about it. That's who Beth and Rio are. It's messed up, especially when you think about it that even though he shot Beth's husband, she still ends up hooking up with him. But let's talk about that later.

I think 2x13 was trying to mirror the scene in 1x10 and 2x01. And that's where the writers failed. Meanwhile the writers of Killing Eve achieved it effortlessly.

The whole setup in Killing Eve season 2 was leading toward the last scene in 2x08. Something that was completely missing in Good Girls season 2. You can't make a U-Turn without explaining why or giving hints throughout the season. It's not how good writing works.

In season 2 of Killing Eve, Villainelle is so obsessed with Eve she basically stalks her, destroys Eve's already fragile marriage and shows Eve's husband who Eve is dealing with. Villainelle is sliding a lipstick in Eve's bag and when she is using it she cuts her lips because Villainelle put a razorblade in it. She also comes to Eve's home while she isn't there, brushing her teeth with Eve's toothbrush and then comes back and forces Eve to swallow „poison“.

In one word: Villainelle is fucked up. But in her world, she loves Eve. She believes that Eve is hers and that they're two sides of the same coin. And she isn't completely wrong. Because she gets Eve to kill Villainelle's attacker which to her is like a confirmation that they're now in this together and meant to be.

It all accumulates in the last scene when Eve discovers Villainelle could've defended herself and she denies Villainelle any companionship. Villainelle is genuinely surprised, hurt and disappointed. And she does the only thing she knows she is good at: she shoots Eve. And it's shocking, yes, but it's organic. Villainelle told Eve from early on: „I like you but I don't like you that much. […] Don’t forget: The only thing that makes you interesting is me.“.

So while the season 2 finale of Killing Eve was certainly emotional and shocking (that image of Eve lying in the ruins, both literally and as a metaphor for her life...), it never felt out of character or not something this show wasn't leading to.

Unlike the season 2 finale of Good Girls. NOTHING what happened in the season 2 finale leads to Beth shooting Rio.

Villainelle and Rio are completely different people. Villainelle is a serial killer and a psychopath. Rio isn't that at all. Does this mean he is not problematic? No, he is. He threatened Beth and the girls, especially in season 1, and he held a gun to Beth's throat. But it all made sense. He didn't know who these bitches are. Only that they didn't gave him his money. So we could all understand and follow his actions.

After 1x10 and 2x01 scene, it was also understandable that Beth would worry for her life. Rio just had shot her husband. It doesn't matter it was in character for him as a crime boss. I would be scared out of my life, so I did understand Beth's fear and her question „are you going to kill me?“. It must've baffled her when he replied „I'm gonna teach you.“.

After that Beth is causing problems not only for herself but also for the girls and most certainly for Rio. Which is why it disappoints me that Beth can admit her mistakes to Ruby but in the end puts the blame on Rio? I understand she is emotional and feeling cornered. But she asked to come back by leaving those pearls in season 1. Girl, you need to own your decisions and mistakes!

Anyway, despite all the problems there is also this undeniable attraction between her and Rio which accumulates in them hooking up in the bathroom with Dean only a few metres away from them. And from there the writers tried to emphasize even more that Beth's and Rio's relationship is the exact opposite of what Beth and Dean were. Dysfunctional but weirdly functional as well.

From season 1 onward, Rio listened to her, he called her out on her bullshit but he never disregarded her ideas before listening to them. He respected her albeit showing up at her house at random times (and sending her body parts...). But he also never stopped calling her out when got way over her head. He told her she is a drug dealer. Beth needed to hear that because she only experiences the tiny part of his world where she can get high on the power she is having without really experiencing repercussions.

After they hooked up Rio tried to manipulate her and that was – for me – a moment of „oh, did he use her all along?“. Yes, I had these thoughts multiple times, but mostly in season 1.

But then they both act like a jealous couple and my worries were all gone. And then 2x09 happens and the way the scene is filmed in the bedroom and even prior it's genuine and raw. They close the door and leave their crime personalities outside the bedroom and they kiss and it's all perfect. And then Rio brings back the Dubby and it all paints a completely different picture we're supposed to get of these two. It's all so completely different from how season 2 of Killing Eve set it all up.

Beth and Rio albeit having problems would always come back together. Yes, even with Beth still lacking in the crime life department and not being able to admit her mistakes, overall they would always comeback together in this problematic relationship and make things work.

When the walls of rotten eggs Beth has collected, start to crumble around her and Rio probably already knows about it, I completely understand his frustration and anger and that he is done and over with her. But at the same time he knows he isn't because he can't look Beth in the eyes when he is telling her „pretty much“. He believes they're two sides of the same coin. They're both lonely but they could be lonely together at the top. But Beth is left behind with the feeling „I'm alone in this“ and this man who made her feel things again only sees her as work – which she IS like I said before. She doesn't reflect on her wrongdoings which is extremely frustrating. A character flaw can only be relatable to a certain point and then it just gets ridiculous. She is a 40ish year old woman, for god's sake.

I expected the writers trying to mirror the scene from 1x10 and 2x01 but every fan theory was better and made more sense character-wise than what we actually got in the end.

I was so confused as to WHY Rio would feel the need to kidnap Beth. Also, how did he do it? Someone on Tumblr mentioned it: how could he be so sure Beth would forget her phone in the car? Beth was looking for her phone... was she certain she had in the backpockets of her jeans? Did Rio take it from her and put it in the car? Or did she really leave it there?

It doesn't add up. And it doesn't make sense Rio would be so drastic to kidnap Beth when he could simply call her. Tell her to come to his apartment. That he will help her. Why make Rio act so OOC?

I also believe that Rio genuinely thought of Turner as a „gift“ to Beth. This is your rotten egg, you have many but this is the one who will constantly cause problems, so get rid off it and we're even.

Was he planning to record it? Did he record it? Did/does he plan to use it as leverage against Beth? Just like he used „Boomer's“ body?

Basically killing two birds with one stone. Pulling Beth in deeper, making her go through with the last step she tried to avoid and having something in his hand to make sure Beth won't set him up again. Which in the end COULD'VE been a setup for any scenario in the future seasons where Beth decides that Rio is her rotten egg.

But to do so now... even with her thinking she is nothing to him, makes no sense.

Especially since season 2 set up Turner as the main antagonist for Beth who is constantly after her and closing in on her. I was sure she would kill him. But then to turn it against Rio and telling him HE is her problem? I don't have to repeat myself but: IT MAKES NO SENSE.

I'm not going to defend Beth shooting him. Yes, she was emotional. And I would've bought it as a reaction under immense stress if she would've shot him once. But 3 times?! That's a bit much. Yes, he called her „bitch“ - SHIT! He was genuinely shocked and surprised by what she did – and lunged himself at her but probably to stop her or/and to take the gun from her. It was terrible to watch.

Overall with Dean and Boomer getting redemption so easily, it was terrible to see NBC treat a male poc like this. It was an obscene moment to see Rio bleed like this, choking up blood and making the viewer believe that he will just die right there, in this very moment. And to make Turner get up so slow and pull out the phone taunting Rio about helping him or not. It was pretty clear the only evil person in this room is Turner, not Rio, and I can't wait for Rio to let Turner know „yes, I owe you... I owe you a slow death.“.

When Rio laughed I think many thought the writers wanted to portray him as crazy. BUT I don't think they did. When I had an accident and the shock afterwards subsided I made a lot of jokes lying there in the ER with my leg broken. The doctors had to give me a sedative to calm me down. So I think with Rio there is a mix of „this bitch really shot me“ and the shock setting in and subsiding and laughing is working as a transient response.

As for Beth, it was so weird to me that she would run for Turner right away. Okay, the writers apparently decided that Rio is the problem and suddenly Turner is the person she should trust? Because she thinks after Boomer turned himself in she is off the hook? And why give Turner the gun? It's just moments like these that make it clear she is anything but ready to be the „King“. Yes, she is in a exceptional situation and who knows how we would react? But still... trusting Turner is a bit too much and we were proven to be correct when he basically told Rio that this is definitely not over and Beth they will see how it goes.

As for Beth shooting Rio: I will say I thought she looked genuinely upset and shaken by her own actions. Again, not defending what the writers did with Rio and Beth in this scene, only observing. Because from all the comments it sounded like she was gleeful and happy she did what she did. And I will say: that's not the case.

But I also think the writers didn't give us enough moments of Beth really thinking about and regretting what she did and of course when she tells Annie and Ruby that „he is gone“ (do they know she shot Rio?) it's not really showing Beth as empathetic. How about not giving us Beth and Dean eating ice cream but give us Beth struggeling with what she has done? I hope we will get that in season 3.

Although I thought it was telling that while she was laughing and disappointed when Dean didn't die after Rio shot him, in 2x13 she walked home in daze right into Dean's arms and cried. Let's put aside she is in Dean's arms. She cried. She didn't cry when Dean got shot but she cried after shooting Rio, believing he is dead.

Again, I'm not sugarcoating what she did. I'm just pointing out the details I noticed and the little differences between 2x01 and 2x13.

Also, I thought the scene in the park was not well-written. The image was good but I think it would've worked better without the other moms and again it should've been longer to show that Beth is realizing that she shot a father. A father of a young boy who became friends with her daughter. A father she defended when Dean implied Rio would kidnap their daughter. It could've been powerful scene but it got watered down.

In the end, the shooting scene didn't work for me as a mirror scene like it did in Killing Eve because the setup throughout the season was non-existent.

Are we supposed to think Rio played Beth the whole time? Are all the moments which felt like something special are nothing? If so they did a pretty bad job at it (how lame was Beth's „WHO is he?“ when he left all his stuff in the storage room?) And frankly, I don't believe it. In a sad way I really think that Beth and Rio do have genuine feelings for eachother but they're also stuck in this situation which will always lead to misunderstandings (because they never really TALK!) and constant danger of betrayal.

And now with Beth taking the last step but shooting Rio it's gonna be interesting how this will play out in season 3. In a weird way, Rio should almost be proud of Beth because she „killed“ the King. He didn't think she would be able to do it and certainly thought she would take Turner down but in the end she made a completely different decision. And if anything that's at least a bit in character for Beth, that she does things Rio can't predict. Just like he didn't predict she would leave her pearls in that warehouse.

Personally, I wanted Beth and Rio to end on a tense note for season 3 but I didn't want it to go full-on trust issues, revenge and rivalry. Simply because this is not how season 2 was written like up until 2x13. And to make a u-turn like this just for the shock moment is just lame. I get it, this episode was basically written in case Good Girls wouldn't get a renewal but still it's the laziest writing I've experienced in a long time.

I think if the shooting scene would've played out differently. With Beth shooting Turner. Like something that makes sense, it could've turned out to be a very satisfying season finale. And it would've been interesting to see how Rio is using the footage to start their cat and mouse game in season 3 yet again (I think he wanted her back after their fallout in 2x12 hence why Turner as the gift for Beth). I don't think with how season 2 played out, it makes sense for Beth to hurt Rio. So I can't find anything satisfying or good about this finale. Unlike Killing Eve which left me behind very satisfied despite Villainelle shooting Eve.

Two similar scenes and season finales but executed so differently, that in one tv show it's utterly shocking yet perfect meanwhile in the other tv show it's sloppily written overall and anything but perfect.

And here I am so very curious how season 3 will play out for Beth and Rio. Apparently I like torturing myself.

P.S.: If you plan on writing me any anon hate, save your words! I’m ready and happy to discuss the season finale with anyone who is willing to discuss it like adults. Ain’t nobody got time for anon hate.

#nbc good girls #brio #beth x rio #long post #thoughts on season finale #I'm so sorry

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cookinguptales · 5 years ago

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"#ask me about my feelings about scorsese and coppola running their mouths in interviews GO ON ASK ME" Alrighty, I'm asking

idk if you’ve kept up with filmmaker news (I refuse to call it film news because it’s not), but both Martin Scorsese and Francis Ford Coppola have been talking shit about Marvel movies and I’m just. I’m so tired.

Disclaimer, though I shouldn’t really need one: I don’t even like Marvel movies. But this kind of shit rots the film industry and I find it so frustrating.

Scorsese I wasn’t as upset about, though I did roll my eyes. I could kind of see what he meant even if I don’t think it was phrased well. He said they were “not cinema” (rme) but also that they were more like “theme parks”. And, well, I can see a discussion about spectacle films in there, but it’s kind of buried under the “not cinema” bullshit.

Coppola just weighed in, though, and oh my god MAXIMUM eye-rolling. Two choice quotes:

“When Martin Scorsese says that the Marvel pictures are not cinema, he’s right because we expect to learn something from cinema, we expect to gain something, some enlightenment, some knowledge, some inspiration. I don’t know that anyone gets anything out of seeing the same movie over and over again.”

“Martin was kind when he said it’s not cinema. He didn’t say it’s despicable, which I just say it is.”

And honestly, DESPICABLE? I’m not going to say that I don’t think any movies are despicable, but using that word on a goddamn Marvel movie is just being a goddamn drama llama. It’s a spectacle movie, not a human rights violation.

Like honestly, you know what movies I find “despicable”? The Shining. Kill Bill. Last Tango in Paris. Fun fact: when you watch these movies, you’re seeing actresses being abused on film. Which brings me to my first point.

Auteur culture is bullshit. It’s bullshit! We excuse bad behavior and lazy filmmaking bc ~omg this incredible filmmaker~ did it, like any film is worth all that. Like any film is created by just one person. I hate that the film world feels beholden to these big names, as evidenced by the fact that these quotes are news stories at all. I don’t give a shit about what some auteur has to say, especially when they’re in every possible sense the old guard.

Some auteurs, like Polanski, Tarantino, Kubrick, Hitchcock, and Bertolucci are bad fucking people. They’ve abused the hell out of the people working under them (particularly actresses) and I refuse to fete them. Some auteurs are just tiresome, like having some well-received movies makes them someone I should listen to.

I think the emphasis on auteurs honestly stifles the film world as a whole. It privileges established voices instead of curating new talent. It models film trends on the styles of a couple famous people. It leads to abuse in the industry. Worst of all, it covers up the work of other people.

Like, for example: The Godfather. Mario Puzo wrote the book and worked on the screenplay with Coppola. Gordon Willis was cinematographer. Peter Zinner and William Reynolds edited it. Anna Hill Johnstone did the costuming. I could go on and on. And you know what? I had to look up all those names on imdb because we don’t talk about them. We talk about Francis Ford Coppola, like the film sprung fully-formed from his brain. That’s bullshit. Say you like his directing. Say you like his writing. Don’t act like he’s the only voice on this film that matters. Hundreds of people worked on these films ffs.

Like. As much as I have no interest in going to bat for Marvel (I’m sure they’re crying into their billions), I genuinely do not give a shit about Francis Ford Coppola’s opinion on them, and I resent that his opinion is being treated like it’s gospel. I don’t think anyone is important enough to decide what’s cinema and what’s not. I didn’t like The Godfather. That doesn’t make it a bad film. It also doesn’t mean it’s some universal good and I just didn’t “get” it. It means that film is innately subjective, though we agree on some conventions. If you put it on film, it’s film. Everything else is subjective. “Cinema” is a meaningless term that we could argue in circles about, and I don’t think Scorsese’s opinion is worth more than anyone else’s. (And yes, I know that he’s also a film expert along with being an auteur. It still doesn’t give him the right to define subjective terms.)

And with my issues on auteur culture aside, the innate melodrama of calling a Marvel movie “despicable” aside, there’s nothing wrong with spectacle films. I say this as someone who doesn’t even watch 99% of superhero films anymore. Spectacle films, just like arthouse films, have their place in the cinema landscape. They always have. That train coming into the station? Spectacle. Busby Berkeley? Spectacle. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to go see incredible things on a big screen, and I’m not sure that a theme park is a bad comparison. Theme parks are fun. Fun is a fine reason to watch a movie. And you know what else fun does? It makes fucking money.

It annoys the hell out of me to see these old guard assholes bemoaning the end of the theater industry (which, yes, is slowly dying for a lot of reasons that are all frustrating) while simultaneously shitting on spectacle films that make a ton of money. What, you think just The Irishman is going to keep a theater afloat? No. Theaters are struggling. That’s why they’re prioritizing Marvel movies. Spectacle films aren’t what’s killing arthouse cinema. Capitalism is. Don’t blame a symptom for the illness, that shit’s childish.

Am I saying you have to like spectacle films? No. Honestly, they don’t do much for me most of the time. But that doesn’t make them innately bad or even innately lesser. It certainly doesn’t make them despicable, as cynical as the industry may be. And you know what? It’s not even fair to talk about them like they’re not about human connections. I couldn’t connect to the characters in The Godfather and I didn’t particularly care about their relationships. That doesn’t make it a bad movie. It doesn’t mean those connections and relationships weren’t there. It just means I didn’t like the movie. The sheer volume of fanfic about the Marvel movies means that, for a lot of people, the character growth and relationships in those films really hit home. (Hello, inspiration?) So like. Who fucking cares if they didn’t for Scorsese? I loved Hugo, man, but you gotta calm down.

I’m not saying that Coppola and Scorsese are bad filmmakers, though I personally bounce off of a lot of their films. I’m not saying they’re bad people. I’m saying that the way we prioritize their crabby feelings is indicative of dead weight on the industry and it’s absolute bullshit!

I love films. I love films. That’s why I’m at a film festival right now. But I also love seeing fresh new voices in film. I love new perspectives. I love empowering people who never would have had a chance to be an auteur thirty years ago. And I love that there’s something for everyone -- if I don’t like a new Marvel film or Coppola’s latest, I can just go see By The Grace of God or Extra Ordinary. Cinema is about choice and it’s about the joy of film and anyone who says otherwise can go shove it. Opinions are like assholes; everyone’s got one. And auteurs’ aren’t worth any more than anyone else’s.

(also wait what the fuck, what’s wrong with watching the same movie over and over?)

#replies #film #long post #LONG FUCKING POST #I'm just tired and angry #'despicable' jfc get over yourself #Anonymous

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tervacious · 5 years ago

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Since Everything is a Feminist Dissertation Imma blog about Shane Dawson’s palette for a minute

Nine times out of ten when you make a statement and end it with BUT, you have outted yourself as a hypocritical ass who should have the ovarios to say what follows the BUT without the opening statement. Maybe this will be true for me too.

In agreement with most radfems I totally think the cosmetics industry is a clusterfuck of male entitlement and wealth being siphoned away from girls and women to men and male CEOs, etc etc, and I also think the sheer amount of product and time involved in placing thirty-five different products on one’s face to achieve a “natural” look is insidious and a perfect exemplar of what misogyny functions like on a daily basis, BUT

I’m a survivor of an extreme fundie xtian cult that controlled female behavior by emphasizing conformity, femininity, modesty, and lack of adornment/personality. I did not like this even as a small child because I’m a loner, Dottie. A rebel. Which means I was a totally normal little girl who didn’t like being controlled and who fought back at every opportunity.

Which might explain why I’m a goth. I’m also an artist, and I’m on this planet, as are you, for a very tiny amount of time, and if I want to spend a fraction of that time adorning myself and wearing lots of black eyeliner, by the goddess I’ll fucking do it. And there’s nothing radical or feminist about that, any more than there’s anything inherently radical or feminist about not doing it.

I have a single small dresser drawer filled with makeup, and I’ve been eyeballing it recently because I should really pitch out and replace about 80% of it for age related reasons alone.

And thus we come to the Conspiracy palette by Shane Dawson x Jeffree Star, and also the mini palette, Lorde help me

Jesus christ, look at that.

I only buy one eyeshadow palette at a time and use it until it is gone or falls apart into dust. The current state of the beauty industry is such that they are pressuring women and girls into buying palette after palette, some of them enormous, some small, but a grown-ass woman owning stacks of these things is not unusual anymore. And new ones are coming out constantly-- to the point where there’s a whole part of beauty YouTube devoted to “the anti-haul”, in which people announce which makeup thing they will NOT be buying. This is a sorry state of affairs, there’s no way around it.

I don’t collect makeup because that’s silly. It’s a huge waste of money. I watch otherwise sensible women hoarding vast numbers of eyeshadow palettes, and they use only one or two colors and that’s... just sad? Apply that to the vast quantities of makeup products, to your lipsticks and glosses, to your pencils and correctors and corrector palettes and concealers and blushes and highlighters and contours and powders and foundations and primers and mattifiers and setting sprays and mascaras and a bunch of others things I forget, add a pile of false eyelashes and I don’t know, eyebrow merkins or some shit, and that’s what a well-appointed makeup afficionado is supposed to have in her arsenal. And all those things can’t be just one-- you have to have multiples, for reasons. But I honestly think the eyeshadow obsession is the worst, which is strange coming from me, because I adore eyeshadow.

And yet in spite of this I have a black stand-alone eyeshadow pan, and one large palette that is cheap, made in China, not great but with a lot of weird colors in it, so I use that one when I bother, and a few pots of glitter. My plan is to use it up or wait until it’s too old to use safely, and then pitch it/repurpose the case for something (it is literally the size of a laptop with a huge mirror in it so I can think of something), and get a new palette. I only buy one at a time, and use it until it’s gone. You know, like a rational person.

At first I’d decided when the time comes I’d get the Jawbreaker palette and mini, by Jeffree Star, because I loved the colors, but now I’ve changed my mind, because Shane Dawson’s not only has a case that matches my aesthetic, it also has awesome colors and, most importantly, BLACK. I use black eyeshadow alone or to set my eyeliner, so I’m devoted. And while all of these palettes have too many neutrals for my taste you can always use those for some kinda detail, and the Conspiracy Palette is my jam. It’s really gorgeous. Not gonna lie.

The documentary he made about the making of this palette is interesting on multiple levels-- there’s the process itself, which I didn’t know shit about until now. There was the portrayal of his relationship with Jeffree, which was interesting and often pretty funny, and touching. And from my chronic can’t stop writing feminist dissertations POV, the way women are the target of this business and yet completely sidelined was a real eyeopener. Let me just mention this one part:

In the final episode when the palette is assembled, each pan glued into the box and then the box boxed up, there’s a song with a woman singing about how she’ll never be Prom Queen. Shane is walking through the assembly line, emotional, because this is his project coming to fruition. Jeffree is with him, and Shane starts crying, and Jeffree comforts him. The song is clearly meant to be something Shane feels.

But the scene is of dozens of women, none of whom will be prom queen, none of whom are about to make millions of dollars on cosmetics, in white coats and hair protectors and goggles, busily assembling a beautiful object, which one suspects only a few of them will be able to afford for themselves though I can’t swear to that, it’s possible they are paid well, the place is unusual, Jeffree makes all his product in the United States, and I’m not inclined to jump to conclusions. But they are anonymously and busily working, putting together this thing, meant for women, and no woman really had any functional input into this project at all. This was, as everyone was joking, Shane and Jeffree’s baby. A baby. You know, the thing a man can never have.

I appreciate film making that reveals truth, even if it wasn’t intentional.

So other than that there’s not much to say. You can watch the epic thing yourself on YouTube, it was entertaining (and good for me because I need to opt out of some of the heavier shit I’m always buried in, yet one more reason I fucking QUIT MY JOB and am now FREE,) but if you want a look into the way the business works on the indy end of the spectrum, not the old timey Cosmetics Corporations but the new one that Jeffree Star basically spearheaded and upturned large chunks of the old business model, I think this documentary is a good one for understanding exactly how marginalized women remain in a business that ostensibly is directed at us.

The reason I think women like watching men like Jeffree and Shane and whoever else do these things is because it aids and abets the lie that wearing makeup is all a choice women make. The men are choosing, because men have zero pressure on them to do these things. Women are taught to have affinity with men and to ignore their lack of affinity with us. These bits of entertainment are a great brainwashing reinforcing device, to get us along for the ride, to hop in the car we never ever get to drive. And none of it is intentional, which is the best part. As smart as Shane is, the joy of being male is you just take things, casually, as your birthright. You’re totally entitled to make a nine-hour epic following your friends and family, unapologetically, put it on the internet, and get accolades, including the one I’m writing right now. You’re entitled to dictate the facts as if they contain a great truth. You can be totally unaware of the impact your decisions have for the greater bad. You can think you’re helping your sister-in-law through her crisis created by the very culture you are responsible for while mocking the women she blames for making her feel bad. This set of films is a monolithic treat for a radical woman to confront. And I hope, since there’s truth hidden in plain sight throughout, that a lot of other women and girls will see it too. Will notice the few females scattered throughout the film, consulted in the most cursory way, knowing they have to perform or they’re replaceable. I’m an Old, and used to seeing the real world, which has looked like this all my life. I don’t know what a fifteen year-old will see.

Tati Westbrook also released a new eyeshadow palette last week I think, and since people think if she puts out a forty-five minute video she’s talking too much, she naturally did not film a massive docudrama showcasing her Eyeshadow Palette Journey or whatever I could imagine her saying. Thus she was very much overshadowed by something that won’t appear for sale until tomorrow. I have no doubt she’ll do well, but will she make twenty million dollars? Will she do as well as she could have if she were a man?

Should anyone, off of what is essentially bullshit? Pretty, gorgeous bullshit? Of course not. That’s the actual feminist conclusion, it doesn’t matter if a male or a female is profitting off of, essentially, the insecurities and desires for cool new things and to be hip and liked and looked up to, which all of us have to some extent in some arena. I’m not immune to it either, ain’t lying again. It’s always an unseemly pleasure to have someone half my age ask me what I’m wearing and where I got it. Capitalism has conditioned all of us to associate material things with social acceptance and admiration, and if you are a materialist person like I am, that association comes very easily.

Anyway, that’s it, that’s the bit. I have no doubt this thing will sell out in approximately two hours, which will happen without me because my old eyeshadow palette still works.

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pass-the-bechdel · 5 years ago

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Marvel Cinematic Universe: Captain America: Civil War (2016)

Does it pass the Bechdel Test?

No.

How many female characters (with names and lines) are there?

Seven (30.43% of cast).

How many male characters (with names and lines) are there?

Sixteen.

Positive Content Rating:

Three.

General Episode Quality:

Exciting and full of strong fodder for discussion and debate; by the same token, potentially frustrating.

MORE INFO (and potential spoilers) UNDER THE CUT:

Passing the Bechdel:

Natasha directs comments to Wanda in Nigeria, but Wanda addresses her response to the team as a whole.

Female characters:

Wanda Maximoff.

Natasha Romanov.

Maria Stark.

Mrs Spencer.

Sharon Carter.

Mrs Zemo.

Aunt May.

Male characters:

James Buchanan Barnes.

Steve Rogers.

Sam Wilson.

Brock Rumlow.

Howard Stark.

Tony Stark.

T’Chaka.

Vision.

Thaddeus Ross.

James Rhodes.

Helmut Zemo.

T’Challa.

Everett Ross.

Peter Parker.

Clint Barton.

Scott Lang.

OTHER NOTES:

My immediate thought on the concept of the Avengers being directed by a United Nations panel is the Rwandan genocide; follow from that, any number of other major atrocities that have taken place while the rest of the world sat back umm-ing and aah-ing over whether or not they should intervene. Anyone who knows a speck of history should be very reticent about the idea of being shackled by such political whims.

Ross refers to the unknown locations of Thor and Bruce Banner as being like ‘misplacing a couple of megaton nukes’, as if they’re objects and not autonomous sentient beings who can go where they please without having to declare their intentions, and that should really be the first major red flag to everyone that this guy ain’t on the level.

Vision’s equation about causality is a false equivalence, and an irrelevant one anyway, since oversight doesn’t do anything to hamper his theory about strength inviting challenge. You’re not actually reducing your strength, you’re just making yourself less able to meet those challenges as they come. I feel like Vision should be a Hell of a lot smarter than this absence of logic (also, looking at the threats themselves in previous films, the only ones which can be considered ‘strength inviting challenge’ issues in which the actions of any Avenger characters have ‘bred catastrophe’ are the Iron Man films, and Age of Ultron, all of which are examples of Tony’s hubris coming back to bite him, specifically. The conflict of every other film stems from either 1) trouble predating Iron Man (most of it SHIELD/Hydra related), or 2) other-worldly overspill where Earth becomes the battleground for something uninvited (Asgardian and/or infinity stone bullshit). And even when Tony is the one creating his own demons, he usually doesn’t do so actively through his Iron Man tech or persona (Obadiah Stane’s villainy is what led to Iron Man’s creation, not the other way around; yes, Tony’s grandstanding did directly invite competition in Iron Man 2, but he didn’t make an adversary out of Ivan Vanko, that was his father’s legacy; and Tony’s particular cruelty may have incited Aldritch Killian, but that event predated the creation of Iron Man by nine years, so it’s not a response to that strength. Only Ultron was genuinely a catastrophic consequence of Tony’s (and Bruce’s) abuse of power, but hobbling the Avengers’ ability to operate does nothing to prevent that sort of thing from happening again, it just stymies their ability to halt the onslaught after it begins. You solve that one with legislation limiting what anyone can recklessly create and unleash (which includes Vision himself, incidentally)).

And see, Steve is right; the Sokovia Accords just shift the blame when things go wrong, functionally it makes the Avengers less accountable for their actions by allowing them to play the ‘just following orders’ game. And the point he makes about the panel still being run by people with agendas is exactly what I’m talking about in that first dot point; when decisions are being made on a political basis instead of according to need, you get atrocities, and any person working for the United Nations is a political agent by default. Sokovia is actually a great example of the kind of place that falls through the cracks on the political stage, as it was noted to be ‘nowhere special’, i.e. not politically valuable, and therefore unlikely to receive a swift response from powerful nations who have no vested interests in the good of the country.

Tony’s argument here is extremely personal and emotion-driven; it’s all his own guilt about Ultron and Sokovia and his decision to stop manufacturing weapons, etc, and none of that is relevant to the rest of the team’s situation or their choices. He’s also utterly oblivious to his own privilege here, in that it’s super easy for him to handwave the particulars of the Accords, because he’s a filthy-rich white American whose main ‘thing’ is new technologies, which are not being restricted at all by these Accords; he has the luxury of just signing on and hoping to negotiate amendments later (and also, of having the resources to be able to thwart anything he disagrees with and just do what he wants regardless if he decides he’s right). He’s not taking a moment to consider what the Accords really mean for those members of the team with powers they can’t just ‘put down’, who don’t have the kinds of options and opportunities he has, up to and including the bargaining power to have the Accords ‘fixed up’ later. I really do my best to see both sides of this situation because there IS merit in the idea of the Accords, but no one in favour of it makes a good argument for it and it’s really frustrating.

Who tells someone that a close beloved friend is dead in a fucking text message??? The real villain of this film.

It goes without saying but I’m gonna say it anyway: it’s very hypocritical of T’Challa to support the Accords while also donning his super-suit and taking matters in foreign countries into his own hands. All of the destruction that occurs in Romania after Bucky escapes from his apartment building is because of T’Challa’s involvement (because he was trying to commit a literal murder!), and that kinda gets glossed straight over here.

Tony falls for Ross’ trick by referring to Wanda as a ‘weapon of mass destruction’ in the process of his efforts to justify her internment. It’s all really solid writing, really, vernacular choices that highlight the dehumanisation at the rotten core of the Accords and how good people can be suckered into it without realising until it’s too late (even when things like, say, denial of legal representation should definitely be red-flagging up the wazoo right now). But honestly, it’s such a wild leap from ‘Wanda can’t go on missions anymore’ to ‘we’re going to forcibly deny her the ability to go out in public’. Keep trying to tell yourself that’s not a fucked up situation, Tony.

Steve Rogers holding down a fucking helicopter is just...peak Captain America and I’m so glad.

The part where Tony recruits an actual child who is not involved in this situation at all, spiriting him away to another continent to fight supersoldiers, that’s just...beyond, honestly. I hate this as an introduction for Spiderman because it’s so wildly irresponsible of Tony, it’s an unforgivable thing to do. He’s a kid. This has nothing to do with him. This is where Tony officially loses me in this movie. You can take your self-righteous attempts at justifying your actions and shove ‘em, buddy. You’re actively endangering a child.

We really don’t need Steve to kiss someone every Cap movie. We didn’t need him weirdly mackin’ on his recently-deceased ex-love’s niece. Seriously.

Spiderman’s particular brand of quipping while fighting really irritates me, also. It’s altogether a big no from me on the Spiderman front.

Still love Ant-Man, though. He’s delightful. I also enjoy Hawkeye so much more here than I have in the Avengers films.

C’mon, T’Challa. You can’t attack and attempt to kill a guy outright and then play the ‘you must be guilty because you ran away’ schtick. Do a brain about it.

See, everyone else knows why they’re there and what they’re fighting for, they know the stakes. Scott is the only one on Cap’s side who isn’t already part of the situation anyway, but he’s read in on why he’s being asked to get involved and he’s a grown adult person making an informed decision. Peter doesn’t have that, he’s there fighting because Tony said so, and that’s just fucked up.

Heavy sigh. And here we go with the emotional Tony thing. Yeah, he just saw how his parents were killed by the Winter Soldier. That’s rough. It’s really rough. But he doesn’t just have an immediate emotional outburst, he has a sustained homicidal rage, which includes not only trying to kill Bucky, but also beating the Hell outta Steve, who, y’know, did not kill Tony’s parents. The fight scene lasts way too long and involves too much opportunity for cooler thought to prevail (both in problem-solving and in conversational moments), and someone whose emotions can send them reeling so completely out of control - even when they actively know they’ve been manipulated into it! Zemo literally just told you to your face that this was his plan! - someone with so little impulse control should never be given the power to make decisions for others or wield anything over them. This is all just a really, really great case for why Tony is ill-equipped to be an Avenger at all.

Watching Bucky digging the repulsor out of Iron Man’s chest with his metal hand is...so exciting. Rest in peace, awesome metal arm.

Zemo’s just a regular human, but he gets locked up under utterly inhumane circumstances. Again, the Accords involved a deal with a pretty insidious devil, and they didn’t actually have to prove that Steve’s position was the correct one to such a strong degree (we could have had a more nuanced conversation about the subject of accountability if the two sides were more evenly presented), but damn, the red flags, guys. It shouldn’t have taken Tony until he was horrified seeing his friends in the raft prison to finally clue in.

Ok, so, I know I already played the ‘I’m pregnant’ card to explain away my meandering commentary for Ant-Man, but it’s still true and only getting more significant as time goes on, so I regret to announce that - despite having looked forward to disassembling this movie since I started on this Marvel adventure - we’re now only a day out from publication and I haven’t written anything yet. I know, the deadline isn’t exactly set in stone and I could just hold off publishing until I’m ready, but that’s a slippery slope and if I start telling myself to just ‘get to it when you get to it’, who the fuck knows when it’ll happen. This isn’t supposed to be stressful, so I’m just gonna ramble a bit and see what comes out. There’s a thing wriggling in my guts and I have a house to paint. I’m doing my best.

First things first: my stance re: Accords is that the best method of oversight is the one which emphasises accountability, rather than permission (with acknowledgment that this is a fictional universe with threats and powers which do not reflect the real world). The kinds of issues our Avenger characters get involved with are typically of the sort which has to be nipped in the bud right-quick before it becomes untenable, and also not infrequently, the types of problems which do not offer them bountiful evidence to present to a board for evaluation before they get the ok to counter it. Faffing about with diplomacy and bureaucratic carrying-on is a great way to, say, allow Hydra to launch the Insight helicarriers and wipe out all dissenters to their rule before you have the chance to stop them, or (if Zemo’s apparent plan with the Winter Soldiers had been his real plan after all), to be stuck mopping up the global damage as an elite death squad roams around destabilising governments. I’m not a supporter of the adage ‘it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission’ in the real world, but in a comic book universe, with the supervillains and the world domination and the plots which consistently include chronic time-sensitive action and little if any concrete evidence? The Sokovia Accords are woefully inadequate. By all means, the Avengers should be answerable to someone, and being required to submit reports justifying their actions (and face disciplinary measures or even criminal charges if they cannot explain themselves to a satisfactory degree) is a completely reasonable thing to convene a United Nations panel to oversee. Maybe Tony can hop down off his high horse and face actual consequences for the Ultron fiasco. That’s fine with me, and it’s a logical thing for the world to clamour for. Shifting responsibility to a panel of UN politicians who will then no doubt be reticent to send the Avengers into anything pre-emptively (or within any kind of useful time frame) for fear of backlash is a terrible solution, and even more so when you’re being pushed into it without any time to evaluate and amend the original document before it becomes law.

(It’s worth noting that the person most likely to appreciate how easily the UN panel could be hijacked by political machinations not in the interest of the public good is Steve, owing to his personal role in uncovering and thwarting Hydra’s plans; Sam was roped into the Avenging world through that event, and thus it’s unsurprising that he would have the same concern chief in mind when refusing to sign. While Natasha does sign on to the Accords, she explicitly does not do so because she thinks the Accords are a good idea; she’s playing the political game and ‘reading the terrain’, as she says, and that’s consistent with her character. Tony being impulsive and dangerously emotion-driven is also unfortunately consistent, as is his self-righteousness about imposing his will on others to assuage his own guilt. Vision really has no excuse for being so bad at logicking his way to signing the Accords, but it’s no surprise to me that the most clear-headed staunch Accords supporter would be Rhodey, since following orders from others and unquestioning trust in your governing body is dead-on character for him as a career military man. I think he’s categorically wrong, yes, but I’m not mad at Rhodey for being a True Believer any more than I am at Natasha for being mercurial; both are in-character choices and ones which involve evaluative thought processes, and while ‘in-character’ may still be in play for Tony, evaluative thought processes are not, and that does make me mad. As I’ve noted before, he tends to work as a likable character despite his MANY flaws when he’s in his own movies, because acknowledging those foibles and working to fix them is a core part of his personal arcs in each Iron Man film; it was an essential quality missing in Age of Ultron, and one which made a monster of the character which I AM glad this movie is addressing with fallout; still, there’s a lack of tangible self-reflection and making amends from Tony in this movie, alongside some of his worst personal decisions, and I sincerely do not love him by the end of it.)

The good thing is, despite a few lazy elements - Vision! You tool! - and despite some very frustrating decisions, the central dilemma of the film is a strong and nuanced conversation-starter (and perhaps, argument-inducer). Even though the specific scenario and the people involved (Ross (both of them) and the floating Guantanamo, et al.) skews the narrative definitively against the Accords by the end, there is still fodder there for an intelligent debate about the merits of the concept if not the execution. And, most importantly, Steve’s position on the matter is the MCU’s Captain America to a T - a political story about the appreciable and essential difference between doing one’s duty to a concept, vs adherence to a moral code. Disobedience is a core part of Steve Rogers’ dilemmas - not that disobedience IS the dilemma for him, but that it is at odds with the patriotic good-ol’-boy image he is expected to inhabit from outside. Every Captain America film carries with it the idea that to do the highest good can mean rejecting everything that the people and institutions around you try to insist is right; refusing to play a role that has been prescribed to you; always making the choice for yourself, by your ethos, no matter how hard it is. Refusing to compromise when you see the compromise as an evil; planting yourself like a tree, and saying ‘No. You move’ (a great way of keeping Peggy’s influence alive and moving in the plot, by the way, and a key demonstration of how she and Steve met on the same wavelength. Lots of strong details in this movie, tbh).

My primary complaint, however, is that this is also too much like an Avengers film; nearly all of the other major characters are there, and Tony especially gets a LOT of screen time, and since Cap and his films are my uncontested faves I am pretty salty about having to share the stage for his last outing. The tone and the subject matter are still totally on-brand, but the focus is split, and that’s particularly annoying for what it leaves behind. While Bucky is made central to the drive of the plot, Steve finally being reunited with him, bringing him in, getting the cathartic other side to what was so exquisitely set up in The Winter Soldier, it falls by the wayside a bit and comes off underdone. Sam is certainly there, being wonderful as always, but he doesn’t get a lot to actively influence, he’s mostly just That Other Guy, and it’s a real shame since he was a highlight among super-stiff competition in his introductory film. The touch of Peggy that shines through the film is poignant, but Sharon Carter gets the bad end of the stick with under-developed characterisation and a very ill-advised zero-chemistry attempt to stir a speck of romance in a story with no room for it, and altogether, the kinds of quiet character moments which added so much depth to The Winter Soldier are very much lacking here. We’ve got so many other characters on deck already, plus the introduction of two new major players (T’Challa has a solid, sombre presence which suits the film, and even his hypocrisy fits snugly into the plot so as not to be a barb against him, but as I’ve mentioned already, I am squarely against Peter Parker’s squeaky excessive comic-relief inclusion and the dire implications it has for Tony Stark’s moral compass), and we’re already spending so much time on beefing up Tony’s side of the Civil War. I don’t personally think the movie is bloated, overlong, or incoherent, but it definitely wanders close to all three and I wouldn’t be inclined to argue very strenuously with anyone who wanted to denounce it on any of those fronts. It has a lot going on, not quite too much for an ensemble movie, but more than it should as a story with a single character’s name in the title. I’m still mostly-satisfied by it, and consider it one of the stronger MCU films to date, but as a third Captain America, specifically? A bit of a let-down.

#Marvel Cinematic Universe #Captain America: Civil War #Bechdel Test #female representation #MCU #Captain America #Civil War

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jj-ktae · 6 years ago

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GOT7 In Paris Experience !

First of all and before I start fangirling, let me tell you one thing : GOT7 LIVE IS DAMN LIT IT WILL BLOW YOUR MIND.

Let me start with the beginning.

It all began when our plane landed. I was with my sister and we were supposed to meet @jaebeomsmullet at the airport, which was a day before the concert.

It was kind of crazy that our plane landed 2 hours before GOT7’s flight. We were on GATE 2D and GOT7 were supposed to arrive at GATE 2F which is like, super close. We initially had to go to our Airbnb but you know, people were waiting for them and I thought it would be cool to have just a tiny look. Never thought we’d actually see them this CLOSE later!

It was insane. Yes. Everyone was running around, yelling, pushing, and I was so shocked to see this. I was able to see them before they walked out of the airport.

Actually an old lady, who was waiting for her daughters to see GOT7, came to us and told us “hey, why are you waiting here, they are right there!” while pointing another direction. I was like “meh, she must be mistaken.” But still I told my sis and Jen to wait for me wait and followed her and BOOM, this old lady took me to GOT7. Like, she just pointed and they were there, and no one had seen them yet and I was like “WTH THIS IS GOT7” lol So I texted my sis so she could bring Jen because they were still waiting near the gates.

It was nice, I asked the security to move from in front of them so I could take pictures and they just went “oh, sorry, there you go.” And walked away lmao. I mostly watched them after I took a couple of pictures, too ashamed to take more, especially when Jackson looked up and saw me haha (at this moment he instantly became a HUGE BIAS WRECKER, ASK JEN.)

So they walk to the Gate’s doors and this is when everyone runs and goes wild. We just walk away, thinking they will escape the opposite way but they lowkey just walk toward us as they were taking the same exit and I just remember watching Jinyoung in his “Parisien” outfit, in awe, while yelling to Jen ‘DON’T MOVE THEY WILL CRUSH YOU” lol I saw all the fangirls and fansites run toward us and I thought we were going to die lmao.

This is when I start realizing I just saw GOT7 and I barely landed in Paris lol. I have my luggage and pictures/videos of GOT7 (Bambam and Yugyeom waved at us before people noticed them but I was watching Jinyoung so I only saw when I watched the video I took with Jen on the way to the Airbnb lol).

Then my friends tell us people are ALREADY queueing in front of Le Zenith and I’m like WTF I need to be front raw I didn’t come all the way here for that and Jen, who had CAT A tickets needed to be close IT WAS MY DUTY TO LET HER SEE HER MULLET OKAY, I PROMISED HER.

So, later that day, and after a lot of anxiety and panic, we end up in front of the concert hall AT 11PM THE DAY BEFORE THE CONCERT. It’s raining, everyone’s wild, the park around the venue is DANGEROUS AT NIGHT but who cares, we grab survival blankets (Jen falls asleep at some point while I cover her body from the cold lol) and we good for the night. It was honestly crazy, we ended up running around because we needed to pee in this dark place at 4am, full of drunken men (the French Fanbase had to call the police at some point as men were fighting) well, I’ll spare you the details but this night was wild but we had our numbers. I was number 32 in the VIP section and Jen was 39 (I guess ?) in the CAT A section. So far everything’s good and I know I’ll be front raw, Jen will be close, and everything will be alright.

At 7am, we get our last numbering and go back to the Airbnb BUT OH WELL I get a call at 9 telling us to come back because the venue’s security decided to do another numbering and we can lose our numbers? At this point we’re sleep deprived, starving, in need of energy but we have to run back there? Thank god our Airbnb is like 8 mins from the concert or else I would have gone NUTS.

So we go back, I tell Jen to survive and fight if needed (fangirls are MEAN. Let me tell you, everyone was fighting.) The VIP section was a mess and the CAT A was WORSE.

Around 12pm. THE GUY FROM MMT (JIN) SHOWS UP, FINALLY. AND HE TELLS US WE WILL KEEP OUR NUMBERS. Thumbs up to Jin-ssi, I also sent him hearts. My boi.

At some point, Jen is lost into the CAT A crowd and I have no way to find her because the sections are separated and CLOSED. My final number is 51 (they added the TOP 10 tastemakers who had TWO VIPS TICKETS + Two handicapped people who had to enter to before us). They tell us to come back at 3PM because they will start organizing people since the High Touch will be BEFORE THE CONCERT. Like we needed to die before they even start singing lol.

Jen is nowhere to be seen. The last message I get from her is “People are fighting” And I’m like Damn it will she die before she sees her mullet.

SPOILER : SHE SURVIVED.

I grab my bracelet with my official entrance number and go back to the Airbnb because I had slept outside and had to come back before I even took a shower. I literally feel like shit.

We had enough of the bullshit at some point lol. But when we come back and have to wait again, Mark, Jaebum and Youngjae appear and run down the building’s stairs while laughing lol

SO NOW ON TO THE GOOD PART.

We wait for more than 2 HOURS. They made us come at 3pm but the High Touch starts around 6PM.

A guy comes numerous times with a camera and runs around, filming the VIP Section while we’re dying under the sun. YAY GOOD TIMES.

We enter and then they tell us “You’ll be doing the high five with your left hand so remove the rings and everything hanging on your hand. NO CAMERA, NO CELLPHONE, NOTHING.”

They give us water and the staff goes “NOW DRINK.” GOT7’s Staff is really cool and chill, they’re smiling and happy to see us but it’s already so hot inside we’re dying. They tell us to smile, to be happy, that everything’s going to be awesome and we know this, WE KNOW THIS IS GOING TO BE EXTRA.

Then they tell us to walk as it’s about to start and I slowly lose my mind. I’m thankful I saw them the day before at the airport as I won’t have the “I’m seeing them for the first time” moment, which could make me go blank lol

The order goes like: MARK, JINYOUNG, YOUNGJAE, JAEBUM, JACKSON, BAMBAM, YUGYEOM.

Mark is the first I see from afar, he is very smiley and GORGEOUS. They looked different from the no makeup at the airport and I went blind for a second. Or died. OR both. Mark is very gentle, he hits so slowly and smiles and his sweet voice goes “Hey~" and all I can say is “…Hi…”. He has an amazing smile and isn’t that TINY. I was expecting him to be smaller but no, NOPE. He takes time to look at everyone in the eyes and I thank him for that. 12/10 would recommend.

Jinyoung. JINYOUNG. I don’t even have the time to speak because he goes “HI!” and boom, hits my hand so hard it flies away and laughs. Like, I can see his wrinkles and dimples and his face is ART. ARRRRTTT. He looks so HAPPY and SOFT. Like he is ready to be fluffy and honestly I was expecting him to be cool and greet everyone calmly but he is so EXCITED. He can’t stop smiling! AGAIN, I just go “..Hi..”

Youngjae is a damn sunshine. He goes “HHHIIIIIIIIIII!!!!” super loudly and does a very energetic high five with his sunshine self. I don’t remember his face fully as I didn’t look at him in the eyes. Jinyoung’s face was still HAUNTING ME. I just remember saying “Hey..” with my traumatized voice. I probably look stupid at some point.

Jaebum. LOL I CANT. I CANNNT. HE IS AMAZING. I wasn’t going to talk to them or anything so I wasn’t expecting them to TALK lol. The girl before me says “You’re voice is beautiful” and walks away and as I arrive in front of him he is shyly saying “..ah..Gomawo…” AND HIS VOICE IS EXACTLY THE SAME. I look at him, he looks at me, and says “..Hi!.”, leans and gently taps his hand against mine. AND HE SMILES. I MEAN, WHEN I SAY GENTLY, IT MEANS, VERY SOFTLY. It’s not even a high five anymore tbh. WHERE THE HELL IS CHIC JAEBUM WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM WHY IS HE SO SOFT AND SMILING AND BEAUTIFUL WTF. As usual, I say “Hi..” and TRY not to FAINT.

Jackson. SO yep. YEP. Listen to me, Jackson has SUNGLASSES. It’s IMPOSSIBLE to see his eyes (I think it’s because he was wearing lenses and didn’t want us to see, which I didn’t know yet.) And yeah, so far everyone had their hands up, ready to high five us but Jackson has his hand down, palm up, and is waiting like the king he is. I am kinda confused, what should I do? Hit his hand? Shake it ? NO. I am SO WEIRD, I just stop, look at his face, grin, and molest his hand. For real, I run my fingers on his palm, lowkey smirking and I LITERALLY CARESS HIS DAMN HAND. I think I make a weird, smug noise because I’m enjoying myself a bit too much. Don’t ask me why. It just happened. Then I grab it and squeeze his hand and he is just standing, not moving, he lets me harass his hand and it ends up in a sort of weird handshake lol WE DON’T TALK. I DON’T EVEN GREET HIM, I JUST CLAIM HIS HAND. CAN YOU BELIEVE I DIDN’T EVEN SAY A WORD, CAN YOU BELIEVE I ACTED LIKE A CREEP? FML. By the way, His hand felt very small. EH EH EH.

AND THEN BAMBAM INTERRUPTS AND YELLS. HE FCKING YELLS “HEYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!” while leaning toward Jackson and I snap out of it lmao He lifts his hand and I say “ᴴᵉʸ ᴮᵃᵐᵐᵐᵐ” (My soul is gone at some point, do not blame me tyvm). Bambam is loud but very friendly. I don’t remember much from Bambam because I just can’t believe this is happening.

Yugyeom. That lil shit acts all shy. He is half bowing half embarrassed. I don’t even know why he just looks very shy and red and has a bright smile and mumbles “..H..HI.” Like he doesn’t hump the floor regularly. Don’t believe this kid. DO NOT be fooled. HE KNOWS. He is also very gentle and then it’s time to enter the hall and I run for my life again.

I end up front raw. Bambam takes my friend’s crown “Bambam king of Dab”, bump his fist with us, does the Wakanda sign. We were a group of 15 and everyone had interactions. Youngjae bends to shake our hands, Jackson leans a lot and STARES. I don’t know why he stares at people all the time, but he always looks at someone. Yugyeom too. Overall, Jackson and Yugyeom stayed a lot in front of where I was, but everyone came and greeted us. I think they kinda have to stay around some specific parts of the stage thorough the concert.

Our fan projects were awesome, and we threw green balloons during the first chorus of You Are, and Jaebum looked SO HAPPY. Later he said “It was beautiful when you threw the green balloons. It makes me want to keep on being an artist.”

They were not expecting people in Paris to be so wild. Everyone was stomping the floor so hard that Mark said “It seems you’re having fun; I’m almost getting scared.”

Jackson said he will never forget this moment, Bambam said if he could come secretly, he would like to come to Paris and stay for a couple of months lol.

Yugyeom was stomping the floor a lot because he wanted us to do it too and at some point even the screens on both sides of the stage were shaking.

Oh and two of my friends made a heart during Firework (If I remember well), Jinyoung saw them and lift his hand like it was a sword and CUT THEIR HEART lol. So many of these interactions happened, I could write a whole lot more about it but it’s long enough already haha.

I was right in front of one of the security staff and I would like to thank them for being there! He gave us water during the concert, was funny and respectful and even told us “If they bend to grab your phones, give it to me and I’ll give it to them.” But no one did, maybe because people from the previous concerts THREW THEIR PHONES AT THEM.

TO CONCLUDE : IT WAS THE BEST MOMENT OF MY LIFE NOW LET ME CONTINUE WITH MY POST-CONCERT-BREAKDOWN. I have some videos and i’ll try to upload them because they’re very close to the stage but I suck at editing and I have to put credit and I have no idea how to do that without messing with the video lol :/// You can find awesome fancams on youtube and all over twitter, though!

Sorry for the typos!

ps : Every time Jackson looked at me he had the “you’re the hand fetishist girl” stare 😭😭😭

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