#i can’t remember the name of said magazine story for the life of me

[spc-rambles]

I have never been too interested in home media collection, let alone Thomas home media. Now I do recognise that they were the backbone of selling the show during the classic era but I wasn’t one of those who went out of their way to collect all there is as an adult.

That said, I was randomly thinking about my childhood days of watching Thomas, among other British 80’s and 90’s preschool shows, and I wanted to share my first exposure to certain episodes because I knew those who were interested in home media might be interested.

All My Childhood VHS’s

None of them I currently still own

All the following were released for VHS, but I had the DVD releases:

The rest of the model series I’ve watched on TV blocks on Nick Jr. The episodes ‘Mavis’, ‘Gallant Old Engine’ and ‘Toad Stands By’ I didn’t watch until after I read the original ‘The Railway Series’ stories in this omnibus book:

Beyond the model series, the only DVDs I have now are all the specials sans ‘Day of the Diesels’.

[firstfullmoon]

SOLMAZ SHARIF: I was recently reminded of a story of a political prisoner—I don’t know if I want to share this. . . This political prisoner, who had been convicted and was facing the death penalty, was in a large cell with about twenty other political prisoners. Periodically, the guards would come and call one of their names and take that person out to be executed. When this political prisoner’s name was called, the prisoner stood up and started singing “The Internationale.” The whole cell sang along, and that was their farewell. But when the prisoner went into the hallway, the guards told them that they weren’t going to the gallows. They were being transferred to a different prison. The guards took them to the latrine, and while the prisoner was in there, they realized they wouldn’t have wanted “The Internationale” to be their last song, and started reciting a poem by, I believe, Hafez from memory.

For me, the why of poetry has become the reason revolution must happen to begin with. It’s no longer the conditions that make revolution inevitable, but what’s waiting for us on the other side of it. That required me to be more vulnerable—removing the conceptual frame was an act of that allowed vulnerability. . .

ALINA STEFANESCU: That reminds me of how my parents made me memorize poetry. They said: If you find yourself in prison, if you lose your home, family, livelihood, everything, the poems you remember will keep you whole. At the end of the day, alone in a cell, no one can steal the stanzas you remembered. The recitation itself is a radical act of refusal. Maybe poems sustain the hope and selfhood that carceral systems aim to extinguish.

SOLMAZ SHARIF: I love that. I was reminded of poetry’s capacities at the beginning of the pandemic. When lockdown started, some of my artist friends who work in other mediums suddenly couldn’t do any work. I remembered, for readers a poem is something you can carry with you anywhere, and for poets, writing a poem is an action that you can undertake anywhere. You don’t need physical materials. I hadn’t decided to turn my attention toward those qualities, however; I was forced to. My idea of poetry is tied inextricably to my early understanding of carcerality and war—both of which evaporate all that seems solid. And poetry seems especially able to survive these things. I bristle at the word hope, but the poem’s scrappy thereness is enough for me. In an interview late in his life, Mahmoud Darwish says, “poetry changes only the poet.” Some people understand that statement as pessimistic or cynical or jaded. Or maybe see it in line with Auden’s choppily quoted “poetry makes nothing happen”—a quote betrayed in the two words that follow: “it survives.” Auden is often quoted to fall neatly into that neoliberal ethical bypass of so much American literature. But I see the Darwish quote as honoring that even when a poem can’t be anything else, that it will be enough. I’m surprised by this turn in my own work, but the lived practice of poetry in my life made it inevitable.

— Solmaz Sharif and Alina Stefanescu, in conversation for BOMB Magazine

[kaleidoscopewritings19]

Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Title: Biggest Regret

Character(s): Bruce Wayne, F!Reader, Alfred Pennyworth, and made up character Dean Vansen.

Warnings: NONE

Prompts: in bold, credit @ bookished

Bruce Wayne was reading one of the many magazines that Alfred brought home from the grocery store, when one particular magazine caught his eye.

“Y/N Y/L/N IS ENGAGED! THE LUCKY MAN? DEAN VANSEN.”

Bruce quickly flipped through the pages until he landed on the cover story. “Y/L/N is excited for her engagement, however, they’ve been engaged for over a year. The wedding is to take place this Friday at the First Church of Gotham.” At the bottom of the column, it showed a picture of you smiling next to your soon to be husband.

“I am so thrilled to finally be marrying the love of my life. This has been a long time coming.” -Y/L/N stated in a recent interview.

Bruce closed the magazine and tossed it on to the kitchen table. His chin rested between his thumb and forefinger. How could he have let this happen? It had been three years since he seen you last— he was sure you were still in love with him. What changed?

Three years ago, you were on the cover of magazines with him. You two were the power couple of Gotham. He was the rich billionaire playboy, and you were the sweet, beautiful, book author— you were so different from his past girlfriends.

Alfred walked into the kitchen, “I see you read the article about Miss Y/N. I believe it is time to send a congratulatory bouquet? Or perhaps a card?” The trusted butler asked, and Bruce shook his head.

“No. Better yet, I will take both of those things in person.” Bruce said as he stood up, and tightened his tie.

Alfred chuckled. “Master B, I do not think that is a wise idea. The media will be following her, and if you two are seen together, a scandal story will be written.” He said and Bruce shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s just a card, Alfred.” Bruce said before grabbing his car keys. Before Alfred could protest any further, Bruce was out the door.

Bruce picked up your favorite flowers and a card. As he drove to the five star hotel your husband-to-be owned, he remembered the last words that were shared between the two of you.

You two had just gotten into a fight and you were packing your suitcase. “Y/N, come on, don’t do this.” Bruce said as he tried to grab your arm.

You pulled away, “No! I’m tired of seeing you hang around all of those models! They act as if I don’t exist, and you don’t make me feel like I do either.”

Bruce took a step back, “Woah, wait a minute—” but before he could finish his sentence you cut him off. “Bruce, I am tired of waiting for you. I’m tired of waiting for you to decide if I’m worth having around for the rest of your life.” You say quietly.

“We have been together since we were 18. We’re 25 years old Bruce! That’s seven years of being loyal. Seven years of proving that I am worthy of the Wayne last name. Seven years of showing you that I want you! That I want to marry you, and have children.”

Tears were streaking down your face and you shut the lid to your suitcase. “I’m tired of waiting, Bruce. I waited for you to figure out what you wanted to do after highschool. I waited for you to figure things out with Wayne Enterprise. I am still waiting for you to figure out the Batman thing. When will there be room for us?” You questioned, and Bruce hung his head.

“Please, give me time, and I promise that I will take a break from it all to work on us.” He said, and you shook your head.

“This is the third time you have said it. I can’t believe your empty promises any longer.” You said before carrying the suitcase out of the shared bedroom.

————

Bruce pulled up to the hotel, and the valet offered to take his car. He shrugged them off, “I’ll only be a minute.” He said and he approached the front desk.

“What room is Y/N Y/L/N in?” He asked and the clerk gave him a small smile. “She would be in the honeymoon suite. Are you here for the rehearsal dinner?” She asked and Bruce shook his head.

“No, I will just be a moment. I’m here to congratulate her.” He said.

The clerk gave him the room number and Bruce was nervous the entire elevator ride up. No matter what he told everyone, he still loved you. This whole engagement angered him, and he was genuinely upset. His heart broke when he read the headline; a part of him hoped you would leave here with him tonight.

As the elevator dinged, he got off and clutched the vase of flowers in his hands. One he reached room 312, he knocked. There’s not turning back now.

“Just a minute!” He heard your voice call from the other side of the door. It was just as sweet as he remembered. You opened the door with your phone up to your ear. When you had seen it was Bruce, you pulled the phone away from your ear. “I’m going to have to call you back.” You say before hanging up the phone.

You were more beautiful than the pictures had shown. You were stunning- glowing, and-and happy. “Bruce? What are you doing here?” You questioned.

He was tongue tied, just like he was when he first met you when he was 16 years old. Instead of answering your question, all he could say was: “Every time I see you, it feels like the first time all over again.” He whispered and all you could do was stare at him.

You opened the door allowing him to enter the suite. He came in and sat the vase of roses on the table near the door.

Slowly, you closed the door and leaned against it. “We shouldn’t be in here together, you know that.” you whispered. “Dean could be here any minute, and if the paparazzi found out you were here, there will be a made up scandal created.”

Bruce again, ignored your words, “I can’t live without you, no matter how hard I try.” He said as he approached you slowly.

There was no where for you to go, all you could do was allow him to trap you between his body and the door. “Bruce, I’m getting married tomorrow. He’s a good guy. He loves me, and-and I love him.” You whispered, and Bruce looked down at you.

“I’m sorry for what happened between us, Y/N. Not putting you first, and not asking you to marry me sooner was my biggest mistake.” He admitted, and you shook your head.

“Your biggest mistake was not putting effort into our relationship. I felt like I was on the back burner when it came to Batman, and Wayne Enterprises, and models.” You said, and Bruce shook his head.

“I’m sorry. Please, don’t do this.” He said as he rested his forehead against yours. “You keep putting me in these positions, Bruce. I’ve left two other guys, because you’ve come and expressed how wrong, and sorry you are.” You replied.

Bruce’s nose brushed yours, and you felt his lips brush gently against yours. His dark eyes glanced into yours, “We shouldn’t be doing this. It’s wrong.” You whisper against his lips.

His hand rested between your neck and cheek, “Then why does it feel so right?” He had no right to ask that question, but he did. His breath tickled your lips, and a tear rolled down your cheek. “Because I-I can’t stop loving you, no matter the consequences.” You stutter out.

Bruce pressed his lips against yours, and your lips moved against his slowly. The kiss only intensified, and before you knew it, he lifted you up off the floor. Your legs wrapped around your waist, as he pressed you against the door.

Your fingers tangled into his hair, and he groaned into the kiss. “Please. Don’t marry him. Please.” He whispered between kisses, and tears rolled down your cheeks.

You pulled away from him, “I’m sorry… I can’t do this again.”

Bruce looked into your eyes and put you back down to the floor. “I can’t ruin something that is good for me. He wants me, Bruce. He wants kids. He wants marriage. You don’t.” You say before opening the door. Bruce looked around the room, and then back at you. When he seen your gaze was dead set on the floor, he decided it was time to leave. Maybe you were right. Maybe this was good for you. Maybe Dean was the one for you.

“I’ll always love you. You’ll always be my first love, Bruce.” You said, and Bruce slowly stepped out. “I truly regret my past decisions, Y/N. But I love you. I will always love you.” He whispered before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Hot tears rolled down his face as he shakily pulled away from you.

You quickly closed the door and fell to your knees. Were you making the right decision?

Bruce had left, never looking back. His biggest regret would follow him for the rest of his life.

———

This was fast paced, but I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading.

[elliespassagerprincess]

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫: 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

This story is not based off a song! It’s my own little idea :)

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Jackson!ellie x fem reader

Remember requests are always open! Feel free to leave one!

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: mentions of death, suicide, overall depressing themes

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: What’s the point of living, if you aren’t by her side?

Ellie lay on her back with her eyes closed. The sun shining on her pale and freckled skin. She hummed at the feeling of the grass scraping against her arms. The soft sound of water gushing could be heard from below her, as the two of you lay on a hill, she couldn’t be happier. She was away from Jackson. Away from everything and everyone. And the love of her life lay next to her. Ellie smiled softly just thinking of you. This is what she has always wanted. To be with you, in a beautiful place far away from everything. She loved you more than anything. All Ellie wanted to do is keep you safe, and moving as far away from people and most living things was the best option in her eyes. The safest option. If the two of you were this far away from any infected and people you both would be safe.

Ellie’s thoughts of keeping you safe were interrupted by a soft whisper of her name. She turned her head to look at you, and you were already looking at her. Ellie gave you a soft smile, taking in your features. You’ve been together for years but fuck, you were beautiful. She wasn’t lying when she said you were the prettiest girl she had ever seen. Every time she looked at you, was like she’s seeing you for the first time all over again. She always wondered how she got lucky by getting someone like you. You were way out of her league.

You and Ellie lay there just looking at each other for a while, before you spoke up

“You know, you have to let go of me”

“I can’t”

“Ellie” you said, your tone sounding desperate and frustrated. You sat up and Ellie followed you by sitting up as well, you rubbed your hands across your face and you let out a sigh. Ellie gently put her hand on your shoulder.

“Please” you whispered, voice barley above whisper. “I can’t rest in peace” you continued your sentence

“You aren’t dead” Ellie said quickly

“I am”

“No you’re not” Ellie said loudly, tears running down her face as she got up and looked down at you

You looked up at her and gave her an apologetic smile “Ellie wake up”

“Baby please”

“Ellie wake up’

Ellie sat up in her bed covered in cold sweat and tears. It was dream. A fucking dream. Ellie laid back down with a huff, and turned to your side of the bed. She let out loud broken sobs as she reached out to grab your pillow and she held it to her chest sobbing.

3 months ago you and Ellie had got married. It was a beautiful ceremony, and you both were surrounded by your friends and family. It was everything Ellie dreamed of. Your wedding reminded her of all those wedding magazines she always saw when she was out on runs. She never imagined, that she would ever get married. Until she met you. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with you.

3 days after the wedding tragedy struck. Ellie hated it when you went on patrol, but they were short on people due to both Ellie and Jesse being sick. Ellie had a gut feeling that morning when she woke up. Something was wrong. But she pushed the feeling aside, not wanting to upset herself. Later that day Ellie went to the gates of Jackson to wait for you. She got into her best outfit and used some 22-year-old perfume. The high of being married has not run out yet and she planned to take you out that night. She still couldn’t believe it; you’ve been married for 3 whole days.

As Ellie made her way to the gate, paramedics were running to the gate, and her heart dropped at the sight. She saw people running to you. Your lifeless body laid there. Bruised. Bleeding. It was very obvious you were not breathing. And there was blood everywhere.

Tears fell from her eyes as she reached out to grab you, but Tommy held Ellie back as the paramedics were trying to resuscitate you.

Ellie screamed, she fought Tommy. She did everything to make him let go of her but she couldn’t, his grip was too strong.

Ellie watched as they tried. “Please baby” she begged over and over again. Broken sobs and sentences left her lips. Please just get up.  It felt like an eternity, but at some point they stood up. The paramedics gave Ellie an apologetic smile and apologized saying there was nothing they could do to save you. As soon as they said that Ellie’s world came crashing down.

As the months went by, Ellie lost herself. She doesn’t eat she doesn’t sleep. She can’t do anything but cry. She had no purpose. No one to look after. She felt worthless. Lonely. She felt lost without you. She was not going to move on. You were the only one for her. Ellie slowly walked to the bathroom, pained by all the memories this house has of you. Ellie didn’t want to live without you. There was no point.

Ellie spent that day with her family. And she was happy. Content. She made a choice. And she was happy with her decision. As she bid her goodbyes, the Millers watched her walk home.

“Don’t you think she was a little too happy?” Joel asked concerned about Ellie’s behavior.

“No, I don’t think so” Maria commented

 “Just be happy for her she’s healing” she added

Joel just nodded Maria’s words. There was definitely something wrong with Ellie.

Ellie laid on her side of the bed holding your pillow. She smiled at a picture of you, that was on the wall. Ellie’s eyes drifted from the photo, to an empty pill bottle.

“I’ll join you soon baby” she whispered.

“Not even death can separate us”

And those were the last words Ellie Williams ever said.

Her body was found two days later. As sad as it was, Joel knew how much she loved you. He knew she wouldn’t be able to live without you. All Joel hopes, is that if there is a god out there, that he put you two together. That you and Ellie spent eternity together. Because that’s all Ellie wanted. Ellie wanted to be with you forever. No matter who or what it takes, no matter who she had to hurt, she was going to be with you forever.

Authors note: Thank you so much for reading! Remember you are loved and to always spread kindness. If you have any requests or ideas feel free to let me know!

Yours truly,

Zia:)

[selfieignite]

2014 KoreAm magazine photoshoot and cover story of John Cho.

John Cho Delights in Rom-Com Role in ABC’s ‘Selfie’

October 28, 2014

In the new ABC rom-com Selfie, John Cho goes where no Asian American actor has gone before.

story by ADA TSENG photography by JACK BLIZZARD

John Cho can’t stop raving about how he got to ride a horse for his new TV show Selfie.

“About a month ago, [creator] Emily [Kapnek] came to me and said, ‘We’re writing a storyline where you’re riding a horse. Can you ride a horse?’” remembers Cho. “And I said, ‘I can’t, but you have to keep that in. I’ll learn.’”

Turns out he only needed one lesson to gallantly ride a horse for a scene that’s a play on the familiar knight-inshining- armor trope.

“Apparently, I’m a natural,” he jokes. Why hasn’t anyone asked him to ride a horse before? “That’s a good question!” he says. “Now I get to put it on the resume as a special skill.”

Cho plays Henry to Karen Gillan’s Eliza in ABC’s new half-hour comedy Selfie, which premiered on September 30. The show borrows the premise of the 1964 musical My Fair Lady, based on the 1916 play Pygmalion, transplanting the characters from early-1900s’ status-obsessed England to 2014’s Internet-obsessed America. Selfie’s pilot introduces Eliza Dooley (a nod to Eliza Doolittle) as a social media star with millions of virtual friends but no actual friends. One day, after she is publicly humiliated by a boyfriend whom she didn’t realize was married, she sees a presentation by her co-worker Henry Higgs (shortened from Higgins), who is a talented marketing expert at their pharmaceutical company. He also happens to hate everything about the wired millennial generation. Convinced she needs to be rebranded, Eliza begs Henry to help her change her image.

Though the Henry character in the film, played by Rex Harrison, looks down on Audrey Hepburn’s Eliza, the Selfie team wanted to make sure their modern Henry was influenced by Eliza just as much as Eliza is “transformed” by him. Though Henry confidently takes on the challenge to make her into a less self-absorbed person, in the process, she also teaches him that all work and no play is no way to live a fulfilling life. (“What’s more irresistible than opposites being thrown together?” says Cho.) Their modern take is less about external behaviors — manners and proper elocution — and more about internal values: learning to empathize and live in the present, instead of being constantly glued to one’s smart phone.

Perhaps because My Fair Lady and Pygmalion take place in England, the character of Henry was originally envisioned as an older English man. However, when the casting directors were having challenges finding the right person for the role, Cho’s name was suggested. (“We looked at tons of different actors, and really, once we kind of opened our minds and said let’s get off of what we think Henry is supposed to be and just talk about who he is — we just need a brilliant actor — and John’s name came up,” Kapnek told The Toronto Star.)

And it turns out there was no reason the 21st-century Henry couldn’t be Korean American.

“John and I actually met at a table read for the first episode of Selfie,” remembers Gillan, well-known to audiences for her roles in Doctor Who and Guardians of the Galaxy. “So in essence, we met in character. As soon as John began to deliver Henry’s lines, everything came to life. He breathed life into the character, and through that, into my character, too. It was really exciting.”

But back to the horse. “The character of Henry has been taking horseriding lessons surreptitiously for three years on the chance that he’d be invited up to his boss’s ranch,” explains Cho. “And he’s frustrated because he’s trying to impress his boss, but he keeps getting thwarted and is unable to show off his equestrian prowess.” He pauses. “But the point of the story is that John Cho got to ride a horse!” He laughs. “In fact, I got a little too obsessed with the horse. I was probably not a good actor that day because I was too excited about the horse.”

For Cho, it was more than the fact that riding a horse was fun. As an Asian American actor in Hollywood — even a successful one whose almost twodecades-long career has spanned indie films (Shopping for Fangs, Better Luck Tomorrow), mainstream comedies (Harold & Kumar, American Pie) and sci-fi classics (Star Trek) — Cho says he doesn’t often get to participate in stories that involve what he calls “American mythology.” He feels that Asian Americans mostly get shut out of Hollywood stories depicting this country’s history, unless they’re Chinese railroad workers or launderers. He racks his brain, trying to think if he’s ever seen an Asian American guy ride a horse on TV before. Though he loves Westerns, he knows it’s unlikely he’d be cast in one.

But never say never. How likely was it that he would become this generation’s Henry Higgins?

At this year’s Television Critics Association Summer Press Tour, as he was promoting the show, Cho called his casting as an Asian American male lead in a romantic comedy TV series “revolutionary,” a word he regrets using in retrospect. It was an offhand comment, but the media ran with it.

He’d rather point people’s attention to the fact that, during the panel, there were many questions about Scottish co-star Gillan having to speak in an American accent, but no questions about them as an interracial couple.

He was surprised, but relieved. Normally, he’d not only be prepared to talk about his race, but also have a strategy to steer away from it, so that his Asian-ness didn’t dominate the conversation, especially for a project like Selfie, which has a multicultural cast, but doesn’t harp on the characters’ ethnic backgrounds. There were only two Asian references in the pilot. The first was about how Henry’s eccentric boss Sam (played by Homeland’s David Harewood) thought it was OK to kiss Henry on the mouth as a greeting because he read an article on the web called “Kissing Koreans: Greenlight!” — which, because it was actually more of a joke about the boss’ inappropriate touching and the fact that the Internet is full of lies, could have easily been a “Kissing Europeans: Greenlight!” joke left over from when they envisioned Henry as British. The second, which eventually got cut and transplanted into a future script, had Henry insisting his friendship with Eliza is completely platonic and joking that a red-headed Korean would definitely make an ugly baby.

Selfie isn’t trying to comment on racial issues in America; it’s aiming to be a clever workplace comedy with a “will-they-or-won’t-they?” couple at the center of the hijinks. And from the outset, it seems like ABC is banking on their new show by Kapnek, who recently helmed the ABC comedy Suburgatory. Selfie advertisements seem to be everywhere, from eye-catching billboards along major freeways to the cover of the fall TV insert of Los Angeles magazine, to the top of the popular IMDB.com movie database homepage. It also says a great deal that Selfie was given the Tuesday 8 p.m. time slot, the only new ABC show that’s been tasked with leading the day’s prime-time block of programming.

In another marketing move, ABC released the pilot online over a month early to get the buzz going, a strategy that Cho thinks is related to the public’s initial ambivalence over the show’s title. “The word ‘selfie’ has so much baggage,” says Cho. “It’s provocative, which is why I liked it, but the word implies narcissism, so there was a disinclination to like the show. People had to be convinced it was a real show.”

But Cho doesn’t seem worried. “I think the work speaks for itself.”

The Selfie crew is gathered at the Warner Bros. lot in Burbank on a Wednesday morning in September, using Cho and Gillan stand-ins to prepare for the first shot.

In the maze of different sets — the pharmaceutical offices, cubicles, hallway, bathroom and apartment spaces — the production team watching the monitors can’t necessarily see John Cho, but they can hear him. He’s belting out a song in the background before he gets ready to shoot his scene. Cho’s known for being goofy on set. While shooting the pilot, he had Gillan laughing whenever he pulled out his phone and blasted Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.”

Gillan and Cho’s onscreen chemistry is apparent, therefore the tension that arises from keeping their characters apart is irresistible. In the episode they’re shooting, Henry has started dating a very proper, clean-cut “gentlewoman,” as he calls her (a female version of himself played by actress Allison Miller), and Eliza, despite the fact that she has a boy toy of her own, seems to be a little jealous. She’s hurt that Henry didn’t tell her he was dating somebody. In his defense, it just happened 10 minutes ago, he says. But I tell you every single detail about my love life, she argues. A habit I’m desperately trying to break you of, he banters back.

There are certain images in television and movies that we see so often that they border on cliché — girl likes boy, boy likes girl, but they can’t admit it, so they bicker instead and somehow get stuck in the glistening rain together — yet minority actors who are usually relegated to supporting roles don’t often get to play these arcs.

“It’s funny,” says Cho. “I’ve had to do romantic scenes in my career” — he’s been paired with Paula Garces in the Harold & Kumar trilogy and Gabrielle Union in the 2009 ABC science-fiction drama FlashForward —“but by far, they’re the minority of the things that I do. But in life and in movies, I’ve seen it so many times. [Romantic scenes] are in almost everything! So I had a sense of how things should go, what the beats should be, and that’s not informed by what I’ve done as an actor, but what I’ve seen as a viewer. It was new and unfamiliar, but familiar at the same time.”

Back in 2009, in interviews promoting the release of Harold & Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay, Cho often talked about the fact that he thinks about the Asian American community with every role he chooses.

Five years later, does this pressure still weigh on him? “When I was first starting out, it was a lot of rejecting stuff,” he says. “Saying ‘I’m not going to do that sh-t, these ching-chongy roles, even though I had no place to be turning things down. In the middle part of my career, I became more aware that people were aware of me — Asian Americans in particular. And sometimes it almost felt like I was bullied, how burdened I was by what Asian Americans might think of me.”

Though Asian America may feel like we have a stake in his career, for better or worse, Cho says it sometimes feels like we have a disproportionate amount of influence on him. With the diverse fan base of both the Harold & Kumar and Star Trek franchises, he finds that the majority of fans that come up to him on the streets are not Asian.

“I’m trying to come at it from a more authentic place,” he says. “Selfie would be an example of me reading the script and thinking, ‘I don’t think I’ve seen an Asian guy in this particular kind of role.’ It personally touched a nerve, and I took delight in it.”

Another unique aspect of Selfie that Cho enjoys is the language, which he calls “a mix of old Hollywood screwball dialogue, meets arcane English, meets hashtag jargon.” In addition to snappy rhythms, rhymes and couplets mixed into the characters’ repartee, Eliza is constantly talking in a mix of LOLs, Internet lingo and pop culture references. (“At the beginning I made a decision Eliza would talk like she’s on a lot of coffee,” says Gillan. “Now I’m regretting that.”) Whereas Henry is more proper, referring to dating as “courting” and feeling the need to airquote Eliza’s suggestion that he needs to “get some,” emphasizing his distaste for casually lewd slang that comes out of his mouth so unnaturally.

“I’ve never had this kind of dialogue in my life,” says Cho, of this elevated language that’s often the domain of theater. “Henry sometimes feels like he was educated abroad, like at a Swiss boarding school.”

Though Cho may be less uptight than his character, he seems to share a similar crankiness about social media.

“Every minute I spend on Twitter feels like a waste of time emotionally,” he says, balking at the idea that increasing one’s Klout score in this day and age may actually be a smart career move. After all, even though Cho, and therefore his character, doesn’t look a day over 30, in real life, one could argue he, at 42, is at least one technological generation over the millennials who talk in OMGs while updating their Instagrams with overfiltered selfies.

The married father of two harkens back to the good ol’ days, when instead of judging quality through Facebook likes and retweets, good criticism was valued “in the way a poet can give voice to how much you love a woman.” He refers to Jonathan Franzen’s condemnation of Facebook as a private hall of flattering mirrors. He brings up Noam Chomsky’s media documentary Manufacturing Consent to explain how “it’s impossible to tell the truth in a two-minute news story, so you start at failure and end at worse failure. And I felt like Twitter was an extreme example of this.”

However, his involvement with Selfie has softened his stance against social media.

“I see young people who are very self-expressive in a way that I couldn’t have even grasped at that age,” says Cho. “I saw an Ariana Grande tweet, where she had typed out some emotions on her iPhone after her grandfather passed away, taken a picture of it, and tweeted it out to her followers. It was so fresh and emotional, a way of sharing a Polaroid of her state at that time. So maybe Twitter is proving me wrong.” He hesitates. “But I don’t know. I can’t go there. I’m a private person. Even interviews are an exercise in avoiding revealing anything about myself that’s real, and I dislike that these are the new rules of fame, that you must reveal more than you wish.”

So, now that he’s tweeting more, how has he reconciled his aversion to social media? “I haven’t,” he claims, though it seems like he’s found a strategy that works for him. Cho’s Twitter is filled with funny photos that seem to give fans a glimpse into his personal life, but if you look closer, he’s found a way to make jokes while still keeping his social media existence predominantly work-related. His profile photo of him in a beard and twirly mustache is from a Selfie promo that’s yet to air. A photo where he jokes that he’s styling K-pop hair is a wig he’s wearing on the set before it was styled properly. And there’s Gillan’s Ice Bucket Challenge video, where he makes a cameo as an official ice thrower dressed in a Red Power Ranger outfit—“Very important role,” jokes Gillan, “his best one to date” — and further highlights their onscreen appeal to the masses.

And, of course, there’s a Twitpic of Willow, the white steed.

“[John] actually was great with the horse,” Gillan confirms reluctantly. “I audibly gasped when I first saw him riding towards me. It was a sight to behold. But don’t tell him I said that.”

[x] [x]

[hinmusmusse]

January 1st, 2023

It’s going to be an interesting day tomorrow. Monday. The first of several that we’ll all have to suffer through in this vicious cycle of a year. I don’t want to think about it, but it’s rather that or the face of Martin. It was a really stupid idea to look up his Facebook profile, but I have always been too curious for my own good and I like to cause myself unnecessary pain. It was 20 minutes before midnight and I kind of just started to think about all the people that I have ever met in my entire life. Were they all still alive? If so, how did they celebrate new year’s? And, of course, Martin came up. Martin is the prime reason why I have trust issues, why I fawn and why it is so hard for me to say no to people. So, while stalking the rest of my former friends and school colleagues on Facebook, my brain thought it would be a good idea to look up the one person responsible for most of my mental health problems.

Martin is, of course, not his real name. I would never type it on paper, it’s like a curse bound to come true.

He has tattoos now. He always said he wanted to get those, but it still feels surreal to really see them on both his forearms. I wonder if he still works as a cook or if covid put him out of a job. Has he worked on himself? Has he acknowledged his problems and worked on them? A feeling tells me he hasn’t.

I close my laptop and try to catch my breath. My heart is racing; a response from my nervous system being triggered into survival mode. I start to shake and stand up to distract myself. Simon is watching TV on the couch. I go over and join him, hoping he won’t notice my anxiousness. His gaze lands on my face, searching. He knows me well and narrows his eyes at my smile.

“What’s going on? Are you ok?”

“Sure!”, I laugh; hating that my first instinct tells me to lie to him. But he is too rational. He had a perfect childhood and wouldn’t understand how a person can still haunt me after almost a decade. He knows about Martin of course. He knows the gist of it; the story spine, but he doesn’t know how many times I wanted to kill myself while being with Martin. Three long years. Looking back at it, I can’t even seem to fandom why I stayed so long. Why I fell in love with him in the first place.

I sink into Simon’s arms and try to relax, but Martin’s face is rising back to the surface every time I close my eyes. Still 10 more minutes until midnight.

I wake up restless and without energy. It’s a common occurrence for me. No amount of sleep seems to help my body feel rested and energized. I feel Simon’s warm presence beside me and decide to snuggle up to help my body relax and forget what I dreamt. I’m often jealous of people who can’t remember their dreams. I wonder if they feel better in the morning, motivated to start the day. My body always remembers, and I know I will spend the rest of the day trying to calm him down. I stay in bed of a while longer and then get up to make Simon his tea. It will ease his cold.

Several hours pass and I still haven’t eaten anything. My cup of tea has gone cold, and I still haven’t changed out of my pyjamas or even brushed my teeth. I should take better care of myself, but it feels draining to even think of walking up the stairs into the bathroom and take a shower or wash my hair. I know it need to. I can’t show up at work like this tomorrow morning. Simon and I have reversed back to the same position. He is on the couch watching TV while I’m sitting at the living room table, typing away and hoping it will help me feel better.

There is so much that I actually want to do. Working on my novel, reading my astronomy magazine, doing Yoga or reading a book. I look at the clock and panic strikes me as I see that another hour has passed and I feel like I haven’t accomplished anything today. Well, at least the dishwasher is running, and I actually made an effort and wrote several people on WhatsApp to wish them a happy new year.

I know I must be patient with myself and practice more self-compassion. However, on days like this it just all feels hopeless. I have the irrational urge to ripe my heart out and bury it in the garden. It’s racing again and I don’t know whether it’s because of my thoughts or because of the Earl-Grey tea that I had this morning. I wish I could stop time.

How is your first day of 2023 going?

[better-call-mau1]

Thanks for the tag @dootchster!! 😄

Were you named after anyone?

My middle name is my grandfather’s, but my first is something my parents said they ‘just liked the sound of’…soooooo…it feels kinda random and meaningless. 🫥

When was the last time you cried?

Watched Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 last night and one scene in particular got to me. Heartfelt happy stuff always turns me into a sap, and if I’m alone, I love it. Super cathartic.

Do you have kids?

Yeah, thirteen…or fourteen? Can’t remember. My entire paycheck goes towards alimony payments. (No I’m kidding I don’t have any kids. 😆)

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Well, my previous answer probably answers this one, too. 😅 Didn’t even see that this question was next…but yeah, I do love my sarcasm.

What’s the first thing you notice about other people?

Their nose. I’m easily distracted by noses. Personality-wise, it’s how good of a listener they are. I can’t stand people whose attention just drifts away in the middle of a conversation Mom, I’m looking at you.

What’s your eye color?

Brown. I’m a brown-eyed girl, just like the song. Except for the girl part. So not like the song whatsoever.

Scary movies or happy endings?

Oof, that’s tough…I love a good scary movie, but more often than not, horror flicks come up short…so I’ll go with happy endings.

Any special talents?

Hmmmm…I don’t feel like sharing that I can roll my belly like an ocean wave, so I’ll go with writing instead. Technically I’m a published author with exactly one well-received short story that appeared in a magazine, but I’m painfully slow when it comes to getting words on paper. Not making the most of that talent, really. 🫠

Where were you born?

“…I was born inside a jail! I was born with scum like you! I am from the gutter, too!” A hospital in the Midwest — which doesn’t really qualify as ‘the gutter’ by Inspector Javert’s standards, to be fair.

What are your hobbies?

Sleeping, eating, writing, reading, battling existential regret and nihilism, watching The Lord of the Rings over and over, and taking long bike rides…which I can’t do anymore since I couldn’t bring my bike when I moved. So that leaves more time for existential regret and nihilism! 😀

Have any pets?

Nope! No matter how many times I’ve tried, the local animal shelter won’t take my little brother, so he doesn’t count.

What sports do/have you played?

Baseball, basketball, and cross country/track.

How tall are you?

5’9”-ish

Favorite subject in school?

Definitely history or theology because I’m a papist. Although I did love chemistry and calculus in high school.

Dream job?

Paleontologist! I’ve loved dinosaurs all my life, but I got ‘nudged’ towards a more ‘practical’ major by my parents…and I sorta hate myself for listening to them. I wanna dig up dinosaurs, not stare at spreadsheets! Unless they’re spreadsheets about dinosaurs. That’d be fine. 🧐

Tagging: @seleneisrising @luna8586 @starryfictionalgirl @keeper-of-sparkly-things @tarisilmarwen @dreams-are-paper-thin and whoever else wants to! Running on four hours of sleep so I’m having trouble remembering the rest of the Sabezra gang that hasn’t been tagged by others already. 🥴 No pressure at all!!!

15 Questions

Thanks for the tag, @metalatl 💕

Were you named after anyone?

->Nope! My middle name is my grandma’s name. But my first name isn’t in my family.

When was the last time you cried?

->A few days ago (work is stressful) 😭

Do you have kids?

->No, just cats 🐈‍⬛🐈

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

->YES ugh I’m too sarcastic for my own good sometimes.

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

->How they treat other people, their sense of humor

What’s your eye color?

->Brown

Scary movies or happy endings?

->Both! I love a good scary movie, but I’m also a sucker for happy endings.

Any special talents?

->It’s more of an annoying talent - I love pointing out all the invasive animals and plants on hikes LOL

Where were you born?

->California 🌞

What are your hobbies?

->Baking, writing, hiking, gaming

Have any pets?

->Two cats 💕

What sports do/ have you played?

->I played soccer, basketball and did dance as a kid. I don’t play sports now, I’m not really a sports person. 😅

How tall are you?

->5’4 I’m short

Favorite subject at school?

->Art and history, which is funny bc I ended up with a science degree 🤷🏻‍♀️👩‍🔬

Dream job?

->I’d love to be a zookeeper one day! 🐼

NPT: @snippy-tano @techs-stitches @anxiouspineapple99 @pb-jellybeans @toomanybandstocare @littlemissmanga @notthatfanfictionwriter @chicknstripz @happy-beeeps @starboytech @starqueensthings @king-chaos-world @deejadabbles @blueink-bluesoul and anyone else!

[centrally-unplanned]

I saw some hot yuri art on the dash the other day which inspired me to check out its source, Alter Ego, a story which highlights a problem I have seen time and again with the “OEL”/Original English Language manga genre (though ironically, in this case the book was initially in Spanish). To set up, Alter Ego is an entry into the “gay girl in love with/jealous of her straight friend and the other people in her life” genre, which means we are contractually obligated to have a scene of our MC yelling at her friend about how she wants her all to herself. Which we get, upon the news that said friend’s pen-pal other best friend is moving to their city:

In the middle of a diner, at like afternoon lunch...on page 15 of the story. I literally could not remember this bitch’s name and she is already throwing plates. And the build up to this scene is *entirely* her being a jealous snot, in public, to classmates and friends. She has two traits at this point in the tale: Being In Love and Being a Maladroit Maniac About It.

Our main girl - who is named Noel btw, I remembered - is an extremely unlikable protagonist; but she isn’t meant to be. As much as OEL manga would seem like its primary inspiration is, ya know, manga....it isn’t. Its primary inspiration is fanfiction, its where it was born; western artists writing fanfiction of Japanese manga, and getting good enough at it to shoot off their own attempts. Now, fanfiction’s primary strength, to quote Folding Ideas, is its ability to “shortcut to the Good Stuff”; if this was Sayaka being jealous of Madoka’s new best friend Homura, I wouldn’t *need* to characterize her, my audience already knows her, already likes her. I can make her an asshat for drama and it won’t ruin the story, and I can cut to the chase. Once you suddenly have to obey copyright law and need original characters, however, this approach falls apart. 

Which might seem obvious - like why not fix this? That is harder than it sounds, however, due to the limitations of the publication market. OEL manga has a far smaller market than Japanese manga does, and is therefore structured differently; it is sold discretely, as individual books telling one complete story. Meanwhile in Japan manga is, almost universally, ‘piloted’ in serializing magazines bundling dozens of stories into one package. This allows stories to be tested out, see if they capture a market, without them actually being finished. But charging an audience for just one story that doesn’t go anywhere is a tougher sell in the US (it still happens of course); which is why this entire story is under 200 pages and fits into one volume, while recently-read yuri manga Bloom Into You, for example, is spread out over 8 books while telling a tale of equal complexity. Bloom Into You got its start in Dengeki Daioh, a monthly shounen magazine with a 130k monthly circulation, its story got tested and proved itself worthy of enough pages to tell its tale. Since OEL manga can’t even attempt that, it has to sell its stories raw, which means it generally is going to sell a lot more of them as a whole package.

Adding to this complexity is the supposedly-core inspiration, that of manga. You can tell a cohesive comic story in 200 pages, but you can’t tell a cohesive *yuri* story of this kind because those stories aren’t built for it. But they try anyway, since its the genre trappings that *are* the appeal, and the rushed, fanfic-y nature just becomes inevitable from that combination of forces. And I mean, we are all fanfic writers here anyway right? We don’t need all that so-called padding, we can shortcut to the good stuff! The problem gets baked in.

But okay, I hear you all asking the question, “Ash, I get that you didn’t like this scene. But high schoolers do dumb shit like this all the time! This girl is like 14 right? Its her first love, she is flipping out, that happens.”

And that would be a decent rebuttal...if Noel wasn’t 23 years old.

...okay I admit her age isn’t explicitly stated, but the girl she eventually does start dating, who seems like a same-age peer, has her 24th birthday in the comic and is a professional author with a book deal, and like look at the classroom they attend!

That is a college lecture hall, no high school shenanigans here. Noel is at the youngest 22 in this comic.

But that starts sitting weird with some of the other elements of the story - Noel lives with her parents and gets woken up by her little sister, her straight friend walks to school with her and brings her boyfriend along, Noel has like no career ambitions or job worries at all. Everything about this seems like its a story about 14 year olds! Why isn’t it?

I am sure its a pretty easy guess: politics. 14 year olds can’t have sex in western books. Or at least, certainly not in the social-justice world of queer graphic novels. So the seemingly-easy fix is applied to this story of just making the characters adults, in their 20′s, their ability to Consent being handed to them alongside their first electric bill. 

That easy fix transforms the previously awkward fit of its Japanese manga source material into a garbled mess. The type of yuri this story is pulling from is *built* on the character’s youth, these are stories about innocence and pure love and sexual awakening. If you want stories about adults its literally a different genre, its called Josei, and its stories of depressed konbini workers trying to Figure Out Life while in grungy Tokyo studio apartments. And in fact, that innocence and youth is exactly what audiences want from this kind of yuri, as this Goodreads review suggests: 

So soft! So young! I bet this person didn’t even notice the birthday line. They wanted to have their cake and eat it too, a 24 year old Ethically Adult girl-child with a crush on her “Best Friend” who has literally never dated before and whose whole world revolves around alternating fits of jealously and jiltedness. Which like, fine, if thats all you want, I am not judging your desires.

But you shortcutted to the good stuff. And I know why. And it bothers me, especially when half the reason you needed a shortcut is that you think its morally wrong to take the long way. That you think you are better than your ostensible source material, while executing worse on the craft. Its not a deal I want to take, and I see too many OEL manga taking it. Grow up.

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

Graveyard Siblings (2)

Alright, Here is the addition to the first post I made about Marinette having a somewhat of a similar backstory to Jason.

[Masterlist]

WARNING: the Revenge part have some suicide, death, physical abuse and bullying stuff mentioned. Extreme Lila Bashing.

--------

Marinette runs a business called Afterlife (I am bad with names, gimme a break) with Wayne Enterprise as a partnership. She is the mysterious designer MT.

Jagged knows about Marinette and the whole LB thing after one scare and an explanation and promotes it a lot.

The Waynes can’t believe that she knew Jagged Stone.

So Afterlife brand is taking off and is the hottest new thing since Jagged is wearing it and MT is apparently the mysterious newly adopted Wayne who hasn’t appeared in public much and the family’s personal designer.

Loads of Celebrity commissions.

Gabriel loses sales as the new line they launched ‘coincided’ with the launch of Afterlife’s newest fashion line called Karma.

I should mention that Edna Mode(?) and Audrey Bourgeois gave many praises to MT because they are amazing designs and to spite Gabriel a little bit.

Gabriel doesn’t panic yet. A lie

I haven’t talked about Lila much, have I? Let’s just say she got a visit from a ghost, well, several ghosts.

Remember that guy Marinette mentioned that could get her fake documents. It was John Costantine, who owes her a favor ( he owes her more than a few and he would do anything she asked for her brownies. )

Tim and Babs dig up dirt on Lila Rossi and their silence was brought with a delicious cake.(coffee flavored for Tim)

Gets John to do a little summoning for her.

------

(Suicide implied, death, bullying, You have been warned)

“~Lila~. ~Oh Lila~”

Lila turned to her other side, wishing the voice would shut up.

“Oh, Lie-la, sleeping so peacefully. So silent. I wish you would stay that way forever.” The voice said menacingly.

Lila’s eyes snapped wide open to come face-to-face with supposed to be dead Marinette Dupain-Cheng with a manic look. Did Marinette had red eyes before?

Lila screamed.

“Oh, it’s no use. No one will hear you. Remember when you said those words. To poor Bianca. Every day at lunch break in the old unused bathrooms when you beat her up for not doing as you say.”

A girl with long dark hair appeared. Covered in black and blue bruises. Looking at Lila with hate.

“Let’s not forget. Poor Tommy. Alex. Andrea. Wil. Gary. Nico. Freya. Magnus. Della…” As Marinette listed off names, more and more teens appeared, the youngest being a 10 year old girl.

They all had the same expression as Bianca. Utter hatred.

“And there is me. The latest in your long line of victims. Lie-la, how do you feel right now, looking at the casualties of your greed for fame and fortune? Your ‘enemies’. And you know that English saying, ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend’.” Marinette gave a sinister laugh.

“You are dead. You were all supposed to be dead. This isn't real. This isn’t real.” Lila chanted, closing her eyes and covering her ears.

She felt cold fingers lifting up her face to meet red eyes, promising many Bad things.

“Sorry, sweetie. This is the cold harsh reality. You thought that you could get away with it. The deaths you caused with your filthy lies and ‘so-call accidents’. You danced on our ashes and you built your kingdom with our blood on your hands. I hoped you enjoyed it while it lasted. ”

The nails dug further into her face, drawing some blood and sure to leave some scars.

“Because, Lila Rossi, this is the last time you would know peace. And could you pass on a message to the Agrestes for me. Tell them that Death cannot hold back the wrath of Ladybug.” Turning to the other ghosts. “Get her.”

Marinette stepped back as the other teens pounced on her. Scratching, pulling, biting. Inflicting pain on Lila. She jumped out the window and landed next to John smoking.

“Thanks for everything. Will she be okay?” Lila’s screams can’t be heard due to a soundproof charm.

“She will wake up in the morning, a little sore thinking it was all a nightmare.”

“That is until she looks into a mirror. I left a little something to remind her that it actually happened. By the way, can you help me with this curse?” She said, pulling out a notebook.

“Let me see. Hmm.. Oh.. that’s a good one. Nice. Wow...You are very creative with curses, remind me to never get on your bad side. But are you sure about that last part?”

“Lila needs a lesson and as much as I hate her and wants her to suffer for the rest of eternity. She doesn’t deserve being tormented for the rest of her life. At least, she should learn that actions have consequences, especially for everything she had done so far.”

“You are too kind despite everything that has happened, Pigtails.”

“Doesn’t mean I am going to give you the resurrection spell I used.”

“You are no fun. You are as bad as Bats.”

--------

Lila’s curse is that she sees her victims when she leasts expects it. Alya, talking about her blog, is replaced with Bianca cracking her knuckles and about to punch Lila. In everyone else, it looked Lila screamed ‘Please don’t hurt me” to a confused Alya.

Lies some more to save face but the more she lies, the more the ghosts keep appearing. Some actually hurt her but there are no bruises or cuts to prove that it happened.

She is just so jumpy all the time and during photoshoots, Adrien gets replaced with a rotting corpse and every picture comes out with fear in her eyes.

Gabriel fires her after a million complaints.

Not before relaying Marinette’s message. “She cursed me. She came into my room and did this to me (pointing to the scars on her face.) She sent my dead classmates after me.”

“Who?”

“Ladybug. She told me to tell you that even Death cannot stop Ladybug’s wrath. So better watch your back, M. Agreste.”

(Gabriel didn’t feel threaten not at all. There is no such thing as ghosts. Sure magic is real with the Kwamis and the Miraculouses as proof. But ghosts? Those are just stories. Lila Rossi just had a nightmare that was too vivid for her. He definitely is not searching Google for warding them off. Especially revenge-seeking ones. He was just looking for inspiration. That MT caused a lot of trouble and sleepless nights for Gabriel but this next line was sure to be a success.) He was wrong.

No matter how many NDAs he made people signed and how much security measures he took. Afterlife seems to hosts fashion shows, launch new lines or their designs made the cover of a famous fashion magazine and SHOWING UP the GABRIEL brand EVERY! SINGLE! TIME!

Gabriel is rarely in the headlines these days and most of the billboards in Paris is filled with products from Afterlife (Chloe as a model with a mask to conceal her identity which adds to a mystery.) or WE.

He is super frustrated and a little desperate.

------

Got any ideas for revenge on Gabriel, Natalie and Adrien? Also the rest of the class?

(Part 3)

[shinebrightlikeanarwhal]

Brain going brrr for Shen Jiu food today sosisosl

So hear me out, modern au. Shen Jiu doesn’t remember anything of their past live(s) and is a relatively famous internet chef. Like he has a PO Box and everything for his fans to send gifts or letters for him to personally read and tell them either what to do or that he’s proud, he never shows his face though, a deathly fear of being found, but by who? His young son, Ming Fan, is all but excited to be Shen Jiu’s direct bloodline in this life. Shen Qingqiu was always his father figure in the first life, but the second he got hurt or something and started caring for that nasty LBH.

Sometimes, Shen Jiu feels unsafe when out on the street and going about his day to day life. He doesn’t know why but certain faces of public figures terrify him. A little lady on the street selling hand made jewelry and staring at him like she’s seen a ghost makes him physically sick. God, he despises the face of this rather famous actor, Luo Bing-something?? He hates this confusing feeling that seemed to come of nowhere. That doesn’t stop them from trying to approach once they see him.

Women in fancy clothes and strong perfume dote on him and he practically melts in their arms. Confused on how they know his name but more than happy to chat about life. They seem happy for him, ecstatic even! Men in suits ranging from serious CEO to flashy idols would stop their cars and holler at him for his time of day. He despises men like that and gives them no acknowledgement while he continues on his way. If he’s lucky they have a tight schedule, if not they follow him to the grocery store and corner him in the frozen section while he picks out treats for his son. Two men have tried that and were met with a smack by popsicles. Social media was set a blaz when videos of this Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge cornered the same man on different days and tried harassing him. Of course their stans refused to believe it was their fault. It MUST be the pretty man minding his business throughout the proof on the grocery camera. The companies dared to contact him afterwards and SJ happily sent back his lawyers information and video proof of their ‘important persons’ harassment and stalking.

One was bold enough to publicly announce that they were looking for him at a political event. Broadcasted nationwide. Shen Jiu felt nothing but disdain for that Yue man. Who says “I’m looking for a man I haven’t seen since I was young and dumb.” During a political conference?? Just because you know it’s being broadcasted!? His fans during a livestream asked what he thought about it and he angrily said that Yue man was a fool! An absolute clown for thinking that wishing some guy that doesn’t even know him will come looking for him just because he said his name!

He never had a bad experience with women until one scowled at him and he instinctively scowled back. He had his son with him that day and was trying to not be hounded. But this woman continued to follow him and berate his clothing, his hair. He could handle scrutiny of himself but the moment she said anything about Ming Fan, be it his appearance or his mother, he drew the line. Wiping around to face this despicable woman and spitting the iciest response he could without scaring Ming Fan. He remembered seeing her on a magazine before. Some model or washed up actress. God help her when he posts the body cam footage his partner made him wear after the second Grocery store incident. She scoffed at him and just continued to point and jeer at him. Wondering if the others were only following him for his pretty face. Others?? The men that harassed him and the girls that scurried with their tail between their legs?? Shen Jiu is starting to think it’s time to move. He desperately wants to mind his business and live his life but they seem adamant on harassing him.

So he does! He announces it on a video after the fact so that they can’t find him even if they try to. Perks of dating a rich ceo, anonymity is quite easy with money!

Shen Jiu happily married his now hubby and they have many more kids with Ming Fan adoring them all. He refuses to be nice to this one lady at his school that tries to be friendly with him and will run crying to SJ, who remembers her as the jewelry stand girl, and he immediately has his son in a different class. Life going well for the man who was claimed to be evil in past lives, meanwhile the others are crumbling day by day now that he’s missing and they can’t seem to find him, no matter what. (NYY may have stalked him to the remote village but she wouldn’t tell the others. She can’t risk making Shizun hate her more). The ones that harassed her were publicly pitted by their companies and forced to apologize to him specifically. When word got out that Shen Jiu vanished it did NOT look good for them.. LBH had the wrath of his mother and LQG had a mother and grandmother to fear. QQQ was fired and black listed from the media. She would have just apologized if she had insulted the man himself, but following and insulting the child too? The media scorned her already shitty gossip personality. Any time she tried to get on tv they would turn on his and snicker about her cancellation. YQY lived lavishly, but lonely. He had a political marriage and no children. He refused to touch his wife. No matter what she would say all he could do is smile and apologize. Work wise things were going well. Since they didn’t have a punching bag to push everything on and the other politicians seemed to work smoothly despite disagreements, he had no real need to focus on work 24/7. But he did. He was always in his office scouring the internet for Xiao Jiu.

SY and SQH weren’t mentioned because they literally wouldn’t do anything different from usual. They wouldn’t even meet their past life husbands (LBH would think SY is a fan and just give his usual charm and leave. He’s already found SJ, this man is just a fake clearly). SQH wouldn’t have the chance to get MBJ, the neet writer would see him once and fumble his words. Probably earning a scoff as MBJ walked off to go meet his peer/partner. The two millennials would probably bond online over a story and get close. Maybe a failed relationship but remained friends.

TLDR; Everyone reincarnated and their lives fall apart if they don’t change their attitude towards SJ. SJ doesn’t remember them and just wants to raise his baby MF in peace. Jobs are lost and public relations are plummeting because these fools couldn’t find healthier ways to reconnect with SJ.

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader (part 7)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 2.5k

warnings: um just implied smut and fluff and a reference to bdsm I guess?? but it's pretty chill overall

Liked by starkcosmetics and others

y/n.y/l/n okay first of all, it takes an act of god to get a picture of this guy smiling, but it’s always worth it.  he really changed everything for me and I can’t thank him enough for that.  so happy ❤️ 

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caroldanvers 😍😍😍

flowercrowny/n oh my god this is so sweet i’m gonna cry

1 HOUR AGO

He smiled as he stared down at the post you’d made, remembering how much effort you’d put into finding the perfect picture (in your opinion; he thought he looked kinda dopey in it) as well as writing and re-writing your caption.

The speed at which your post gained likes and comments was inconceivable to him; even more impressive was the speed at which gossip rags were picking up the story.  Sure enough, his phone’s alerts to new headlines about you were not only going off like crazy, but had started to include news about himself as well.  

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With Romantic Instagram Post, Confirms Dating Rumors

You’ll Never Guess Which Hollywood Starlet Is Dating Her Driver

Who is James Barnes?  Everything We Know About Y/N Y/L/N’s New Beau

Skimming one of the articles, he was impressed at how much information they’d managed to get without actually getting anything from you or him.  Born in Brooklyn, disabled Army veteran, worked a list of odd jobs before becoming your driver and bodyguard.  ‘No social media presence, prefers to keep a low profile’ one of them said; you can say that again, Bucky chuckled to himself when he read it.

He found another from People and didn’t particularly appreciate that it spent half the time going through all your past exes and rumored partners (turned out ‘rumored’ is a fancy word for ‘a bunch of fans deluded themselves so hard that it somehow turned into news without any proof necessary’).  But he still smiled when he got to the part that was actually about you and him.

‘The relationship is pretty new but they’re so happy together,’  a source close to the couple reported.  

Close indeed; that statement came from your publicist, who he’d never even meet.  

‘He’s a very private guy and she’s got this huge following, so they’re sort of an odd couple in that way, but she knows her fans are respectful and will let them have their own life outside of the spotlight.’ 

Bucky wasn’t sure that the respectfulness of fans was such a given here, but he hoped you were right.  To be fair, they’d been very sweet on your original post insofar. 

However, when he scrolled to the bottom of the celebrity magazine articles and realized they had their own comments section, he discovered that they were a little less forgiving than the ones on your Instagram.  

Is this the best she thinks she can do?  So sad tbh :(

a military guy…. yikes, she could get any guy she wants and she goes for a murderer. 

He looks like a hobo that found a coupon for a free haircut lol

I don’t buy it, I know she’ll always love Pietro!

Pietro being your former co-star that so many of your fans were convinced was actually your soulmate.  From what he’d heard from you, those speculations had made things so uncomfortable between the two of you that it killed your friendship.  Those were nothing, though, compared to the comments about someone you actually had dated.

she’s obviously not over sam… they were so good together

He’d better watch out for her ex, he still likes tweets about her and they have so much chemistry

Wait, she’s not still with Sam Wilson??  I could’ve sworn they’d been dating for, like, five years.

You were scrolling through your phone with a smile as you walked past where he was sitting on the couch, and he just couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it wasn’t the best idea.  “Do I need to worry about this Sam thing?” he blurted out, trying to play it cool and not sound too anxious.  “People are really obsessed with you two…”

“Sam and I…” you sighed, staring off into space for a second.  He made himself anxious imagining what you were thinking about in that moment.  “I haven’t talked to him in… years?  I think it’s just because our relationship was so public that people are still talking about it.  And it had a lot of gossip material— we did a movie together, people thought it was sweet that we got together during production, it was great promotion for the picture… and from the outside, we made a lot of sense for each other.  But he has his own problems.  I loved him, but… he wasn’t ever going to be a one-girl kinda guy.”

“But you’re not just any one girl.  You’re… you know, you,” he emphasized.

“You’ve been reading too many headlines,” you shook your head as you sat down beside him.  “Please don’t turn into one of those guys who thinks of me as a celebrity first.  Before that—” you pointed to your own name where it was bolded on his screen in the trending topics page of Twitter— “was popping up on movie posters and in gossip magazines, it was just my name.  And I’m not perfect.  Not even close.”

Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and holding you tightly.  “And before I knew you were famous, or rich, or incredibly talented, I was totally obsessed with you just for who you are.”

“You’re too fucking amazing,” you sighed as you held his face and gave him a gentle kiss— the kind of kiss that instantly melted his heart and banished his worries.  When you pulled back and looked up at him with a smile, it was like everything else just… faded away.  “Don’t read the comments, okay?  None of them matter.”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, overwhelmed by not only the softness of your skin but of your spirit as well.  In all his life he’d never been handled so… gently, with so much care.  “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, not even really realizing he’d said it aloud until you gave him a beaming smile.

“I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” you giggled pridefully.

“Seriously?  I can… very easily believe it,” he scoffed.

“I just mean… you’re so…” you searched for the words.  “You’re actually good to me, that’s the thing.  I’m not used to that.”

“You deserve the world,” he assured.  “I’m just gonna keep trying to give you as much of it as I can find.”

He watched his hand trail over your face, down your neck and to your chest where he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's odd to know there are millions of people who are jealous of me,” he admitted quietly, remembering some aggressive comments from some very angry dudes who had apparently also watched your nude scene a few too many times.

"Do you like it?  Do you like how it feels to know you're making them angry every time you touch me?"

"Couldn't care less," he refuted.  "Nobody else matters when I'm touchin' you."

“Do you maybe wanna… touch me a little more about it?” you smirked, opening your legs slightly in invitation.

“Always.”

//

Bucky had, thankfully, not let the newfound fame get to his head.  In fact, he had demanded that the two of you hunker down in the house, since he feared that going out would lead to being recognized.  What he apparently hadn’t anticipated was that that might not be enough.

“Will you get that?” you requested when the gate buzzed, too wrapped up in the book you were reading to answer the intercom.

He hopped up and held down the button to communicate with the gate speaker.  “Who is it?” he asked.

“I’ve got a delivery from Anjappar Chettinad on 23rd?”

Bucky didn’t even reply before hitting the green button and granting access to the driveway.  BEEP BEEP BEEP! you heard the gate signal its opening, and the car pulling around up to the door.  Bucky didn’t open it until there was a knock, greeting the delivery guy with a smile and the necessary cash.

“I’ve got a lamb korma, hyderabadi mutton dum biryani and an order of— woah,” the man suddenly stopped, staring at Bucky’s face.  “Are you—?’

“Hungry?  Yes,” he frowned.

“You’re the guy dating— holy shit, congrats man,” he beamed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder pridefully before leaning in with a mischievous smirk.  “Say, is she a freak or what?”

“She is,” you piped up from the couch, making both men turn their heads; but one was chuckling while the other looked mortified.  “You better not have forgotten my paneer pakora or I’m gonna chain you up and whip you.”

“Uh, I— no, I got it right here,” he promised weakly, handing the bag over to Bucky and starting to dash away before Bucky grabbed his arm, making the smaller man whimper fearfully.

“You forgot the money,” Bucky reminded him gruffly, stuffing the bills into the driver’s front pocket.

Finally, he let go, and the delivery man instantly pulled away, rubbing his arm and looking a bit like a kicked puppy as he went back to his car and drove away.

“You didn’t need to scare him that bad,” Bucky chuckled.

“I could say the same to you!  Grabbing somebody with the metal arm like that will put the fear of God into them pretty fast.”

“I didn’t mean to grab him that hard,” he admitted, examining the prosthetic hand as he came back to the couch with the bag of food, handing it to you while he focused on watching his motorized fingers curl and uncurl.  “I think I need to get this thing recalibrated… it’s been bugging out lately.”

“I dunno, it was working just fine last night,” you smiled, remembering how delightfully cool those fingers felt inside you.

Bucky seemed to miss it entirely, though, as he stared off into space.  “I can’t believe I got… recognized.”

“You’re a star,” you winked.  “And not just with random delivery drivers.  I’ve had a lot of press requests, everybody wants to be the first one to get nice pictures of us together— we’ve had a dozen event invites as a couple.”

“Seriously?!” he scoffed, snapping back to reality slightly enough 

“Yeah, and look what came in same-day mail this morning!”  You leaned over to shuffle through the mail on the side table before finding and handing him a letter in a gold-embossed envelope, watching him read what you knew was inside.

The Hollywood Foreign Press Association extends an invitation to Y/N Y/L/N and James Barnes to the annual Grant Banquet in support of the Young Artists Fund.

“It seems like a good first event for us,” you explained.  “Relatively small and low stakes, it’s for a good cause…”

“Are you sure I’m ready to be, you know… seen?  By people?” 

You scoffed, hardly believing how insecure he could be sometimes.  “You look great, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Will I have to talk to anybody other than you?” he asked, grimacing as if that were a form of brutal torture.

“Probably,” you admitted.

His frown deepened.  “What if I say the wrong thing?”

“I’m not that worried about you,” you smirked.  “You’re a lot better at this stuff than you think you are.”

“I don’t have anything to wear…”

You smirked, a little too proud of yourself, when you remembered the email your publicist had forwarded to you just this morning.  “Hugo Boss will pay you $1500 to wear one of their suits on the carpet.”

“They’ll pay me to wear free clothes?” he repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s one of the cooler things about fame,” you laughed.  “I make a grand every time I wear this watch outside!”

“I guess I should send them my measurements then…” he trailed off.  “Any chance I can get in on that watch deal?”

“No, but you can make $50 by getting papped at Jamba Juice.”

He paused for a moment, scratching the back of his neck as he thought.  “Is the smoothie comped?”

“I don’t know.  Do you want me to ask?”

“...kinda…” he admitted with a shy smile.  

“Well, I will, and I’ll RSVP to this invite saying we’ll be there next week,” you decided as you started to open up the food, but Bucky stopped you by reaching for your hands.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked.

“If you want to,” you mitigated.

“Of course I do.  I guess I have to accept that you’re actually willing to be seen with me,” he chuckled.  “It’s just sort of hard to believe.”

You leaned in and kissed him; it was meant to be a casual, reassuring peck but he held you closer and you melted into him, moaning softly at his touch as you started to climb into his lap.

“The food’s gonna get cold,” he reminded you with a mumble against your lips.

Unfortunately, your literal hunger was a bit too strong to ignore, even with the growing intensity of a metaphorical hunger for Bucky.  “Alright,” you relented, getting off of him and returning your attention to the meal on the table.  “Just know that I really, really want to be seen together, in public, just in case anybody missed the news about us already.  I’m not embarrassed by you or afraid you’re going to do something dumb.  I…”

One of those words that can’t be unsaid started to bubble up in your throat and you coughed, banishing the thought.

“I really like you.  I think we have something special.”

He smiled gently, giving you one more kiss on the cheek.  “I think so, too.”

//

Since this was slightly less of a big deal than a premiere or press tour, you had managed to convince your styling team to let you dress yourself, which was why he was laying on the bed and talking to you through the bathroom door while you put on your gown.

“Do you want me to hire a new driver?” you prompted him, voice muffled slightly as he imagined your head covered in the fabric, trying to navigate through the dress.  “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like a servant?”

“A servant?  You’re still paying me,” he reminded you.  “You are still paying me, right?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “but still, I would hate it if you felt like staff.  You’re my boyfriend!”

(His heart still fluttered every time you said it.)

“No new driver,” he decided.  “I can drive just fine, and considering how things went between us… let’s not open the door for anybody else,” he smirked, making you laugh in that way you did when he made a stupid joke but you still liked it somehow.

“Okay, sure, but what about being my bodyguard?  Is that too weird?” you continued.

“God no,” he scoffed, “if anything I’m gonna be better at my job than ever.  As your boyfriend, keeping you safe is my job, but since keeping you safe was already my job… it’s, like, doubled-up now.”

He lost his train of thought when you opened the door.

“How do I look?” you asked as you stepped in and gave him a spin in your new dress.  Your whole body was draped in red silk, with the exception of your back which was almost entirely exposed, as if it were begging him to run his fingers down your spine.

“Like everything I ever wanted,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

And it was so odd that you questioned his desire to drive you, because those moments where he could steer with one hand and rest the other on your thigh, when he could catch a glimpse of you looking out the window at the city rolling by, when he got to listen to you ramble about something to kill the time during a drive; those were his favorite moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

After a relatively brief trip, you arrived at the venue, and all of a sudden he was doing what he’d fantasized about more than he’d like to admit: escorting you down a red carpet.  It was almost overwhelming— yelling, chattering, reporters speaking into camera, flashes going off in every direction—

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek and instantly taking all his attention.

“Hey,” he returned.

“Just follow my lead,” you instructed.

“That was the plan.”

[celestialrequiem]

Days of Candy Chapter 2

Warnings: CreepyDark!Duncan Shepherd, sexual harassment, dubcon/non? (just to be safe) touching, dirty talk, possessive Duncan, abuse of power, manipulative Duncan, male masturbation, forced kiss, cockwarming, mention of rape and abuse (but none in the chapter), housewife kink, implied age gap, corruption kink, innocence kink, implied homophobia, mention of anxiety, depression and mental disorders, misogyny kink, corruption kink, sexism, implied age gap, Duncan‘s dirty thoughts, sir kink, praise kink.

Summary: In the small town of Willowdale, Y/N finds her dull life as a waitress at a mediocre diner get a little more interesting when the mysterious and daunting Sheriff takes an interest in her.

Pairing: Duncan Shepherd x Naive/shy reader

This is the first thing I ever written and posted so sorry if this is bad, please give me any constructive feedback/criticism to improve! I am new to this please don’t hate it too much lmao.

Author’s note : This series will have dubious consent and sexual harassment. It is a dark story about a Corrupt Sheriff’s who manipulates people so if you are uncomfortable with that please don’t read! This story deals hugely with sexism as its based in the late 50s/60s.

Thanks to @bloodcoatedeclipse for reading through some parts of it and giving me feedback lmaoo.

I didn’t use a lot of 50s/60s slang just two besides swell and gal

Flip your lid - go crazy

Nifty/groovy - cool or cool vibes

Word count: 5.6k

“what a perfect view doll, bend down, y’ur ass stickin out, all for me all in this lonely night”, a familiar voice said seductively

You quickly get up, feeling flustered, adjusting the hem of your skirt as you hold the mop close to your body

“Sh-sh-sheriff what are you doing here?”, Feeling nauseous because of his presence, alone, at night…after that previous incident.

“What does it look like doll? I am here to pick you up.”, Duncan says with confidence as if the question you are asking him is the stupidest he has heard

You immediately, look up to him. He was wearing a brown greaser jacket, you felt it is similar to jacket Xavier might have had…this made your heart sink, what didn’t help is when you realized how attractive he is because of the result of the rain, his beard is glistering from the reflections of the diner’s lighting despite it being dull.

You felt your heart beat.

“No, its okay its a walking distance”  

“I can’t let a beautiful young dame like yourself walk alone now can I? Hop in the car once you’r are done.”

You blinked at him not knowing how to respond, you feel shy when you talk to him, always not knowing how to answer him back..maybe because he knew Xavier?

Or maybe because he had so much power as a sheriff..and you are sure he is going to be re-elected again next year. He apparently helped a lot of people to get out of debts but that makes you wonder how does he get all this money? Did Xavier know?

He seems like he is waiting for your answer, as his hands are on his waist, around his handcuffs and keys, and his lips playing with the toothpick lingering on his mouth

You easily get stuck in your head, you snap back to reality:  “it is okay, you don’t need to do - ”

He interrupts your sentence, “is there something you would like to say to me doll?, cause it looks like you just don’t want my company is that it?”  You felt his chest vibrate from how he uttered that question, it sounded nearly unintelligible.

You felt your heart pounding, sweat forming on your forehead. You didn't want to make him angry. “No no of course I want your company!, let me finish up and I will meet ya outside.”  You agitatedly vocalize your statement while looking at the ground

He loves that he can always get his way with you. You make it so easy.

He hums in approval

“No its alright I will wait for ya, love seeing you doing those house chores like a pretty little housewife. It is a sight dollface”, he chuckles while eyeing you up and down.

You pause, feeling tensed.

“Go on, continue” as he gives himself a seat, across from you to see you working and see your face.

He does love seeing your rear, but he loves seeing you flustered when he gazes at you.

You shakily start mopping the floor, every second feels like torture. Hoping he doesn’t realize the effect he has on you.

But however he has noticed, he is mused that he has power of you, makes his cock excited

“Am I making you nervous babydoll?” He cooes, shifting his toothpick on his lip, left to right with a slyish grin

You ignore him, giving him your side angle, while mopping away from him. You give him your back figure which makes me angry and hard at the same time.

“eye on me little lady”,  he says in a harsh tone, punctuating each word slowly

You respond back to him surprised with your confidence as you look at the door behind him, scared to look at him in the eyes, “can you please let me finish and you can take me home…” 

“Watch your manners baby, or you are in it for a spankin’, declares it with raised eyebrows.

You blush, why is he talking to you that way? it’s not like you were his wife….

Was he that touchy and talkative with you when Xavier was your boyfriend?

Carissa has told you no, he started acting differently ever since Xavier went missing and then declared dead.

“S-sorry sheriff”, you shift back to your older position, so that Duncan can see your face, and continue mopping

He likes when you are eyes are engaging with his eyes, he is waiting for the day when you touch yourself on his bed with your legs spread wide open for his wolf-like eyes to take in the view as you chant his name like prayer to give you the command for you to finally cum, while staring at him with your chastely eyes.

As you mop the floor, motioning it back and forth towards Duncan, your curvy body was in motion as well. He hoped you didn’t re-button your dress again, as he can take in the view of your breasts jiggling again. His eyes lingering slowly all over his favourite parts of your body, your neck, lips, neck, waist and hips . He noticed how nervous you are, there were fear in your eyes, you felt naked in his eyes because of his alpha-like eyes, giving you goosebumps.

You saw his pupils dilated not sure why.

-

After 15 minutes of awkward silence and Duncan forcing you to look at him as you were mopping the floor, you hoped the floor looks fine and that your boss Bob doesn’t get mad the next day.

You are not going to lie, you always wanted to be in his car. It was a dream car. You have seen them a lot in magazines, you don’t know much about cars but you do know this one, 1956 Chevy Bel Air, with a unique colour. White with purple around the edges, elaborate taillight and chrome highlights.

This was the first time you got close to the car, Your head started to hurt, you stood your ground, as you remember fragments of Xavier riding a similar car but in red.

Duncan realizes you might have remembered something…fuck fuck fuck, he hoped you didn’t remember what he didn’t want you to remember..

His hands grips your hand to make you snap out of it before you dig deeper into your suppressed memories.

“you alright there, doll?” Faking his concern you don’t know that, as he opens the door for you to hop in

“Ye..ah..” I am fine” you softly respond. His hand leaves your hand and goes to your back to shift you to get into his car.

You hop in his car, the car felt new, smell of leather with a mix of aged.. cigarettes smoked probably by Shepherd.

-

The car ride was silent.. he has an old song playing which makes it even more unbearable.

Midnight with the stars and you

Midnight and a rendezvous

Your eyes held a message tender

Saying "I surrender all my love to you

“How old is this song anyway?” You mention in annoyance with your right hand on the the rest that is placed near the door handle

Duncan has a wide smile on his face, happy that you are finally making a conversation with him.

“it’s from the 1930s I believe.....besides I don’t like the weird music you youngsters listen to nowadays..what was it Elvis Presley and The Beatles? They aint manly, jiggling all around with their bobby haircuts”  removing his hands from the steering wheel to motion with his hand the disapproval.

You giggle, and his heart skips a bit. Fuck. He couldn’t believe he made you giggle. Xavier always made you giggle and it frustrated him.

“The Beatles are swell….but James Dean has my heart. I loved his style in that movie, particularly his red jacket in Rebel Without a Cause.. it’s nifty.” You state swoonly as you gaze out of the window.

Midnight brought us sweet romance

I know all my whole life through

I'll be remembering you, whatever else I do

Midnight with the stars and you

He thought maybe that’s why you liked Xavier, he bought a similar red jacket as James Dean from the film several days after meeting you. Xavier also had that rebel vibe to him. He remembered his friend as well being a fan of Marlon Brando hence why he wanted to be an actor. To move out of the suburbs, to go to the dreamland..to Hollywood with you. You used to always want to be around him, he didn’t let the deputies patrol the drive in, since he always saw you there with him. He hated seeing you with his friend but he can’t help himself, he wanted to always be near you, see you and to one day feel your skin on his skin.

His jaw clenched and his brows furrowed as he starts to get jealous over a dead man.

You noticed his face seems boiling from rage as his hands gripped forcibly the steering wheel…you don’t know why. Scared to ask so you just continue gazing at the view in locomotion from the car window, as your sheer scarf around your head blowing from the impact of the window.

You loved the aftermath of the rain, the order after the chaos.

-

After a few minutes, The sheriff parks in front of your house. It’s 12 AM.

The house you lived in was basic, owned by your deceased father. It was a small house with a small balcony, it looks a little bit like a tree house. Wooden with no paint job. With a white door to enter the house, two small front steps and a small terrace, where you tend to read the Woman magazines.

He can’t wait for you to live in his house. Especially since he is a veteran who served in the Second World War, the government provided him with the perfect suburban American Dream home.

“Thanks for the ride, Sheriff.” you shyly state, about to open the door of his fancy car.

“Nah -ah -ah not too fast, you have to be punished.” He sings in a mocking tone with a daunting smirk.

You were nervously fidgeting, you don’t know why maybe because you are worried you might have done something that might be incriminating especially with your memory loss situation.

“What? What for?” you gullibly ask, looking up to him.

“You lied to me, you told me you had a doctor appointment when it fact you finish your shift late, kitten” , you see him remove the toothpick that was on his plump lips and put it on the ledge behind the steering wheel.

Oh thank God-

but why should I be punished for this? You didn’t know what to say to him so you just look at his eyes, waiting for any instructions.

He remarks that, he loves how obedient you are to him.

“Come closer, suga’r ” he taps his chest motioning you to come closer to him

What is the punishment? Is he going to spank me?

But we are not married why would he??

You timidly move close to him, refusing to make eye contact with him.

He lifts up your chin, bringing your face near his and your gaze to his.

“Kiss me or else I won’t let you leave this car”, Duncan whispers seductively as he shuts your window’s car seat and secures that your door is locked, trapping you in.

“..N…no..o” Duncan this isn’t right”,  you respond back.

As you shift back to your seat, Duncan aggressively grips your waist with his right hand and grips your chin with his left hand, forces you into a kiss and he goes deep and sensual, demanding access to your mouth but you instantly deny him entry.

This angers him, he aggressively yanks your hair, you gasp giving Duncan the chance to insert his tongue, he needed to taste your mouth.

You try biting his upper lip, he decides to lift up your weak body from your seat, manhandling you, without breaking from the kiss, you feel his strong hands spank you harsh. You whimper loudly.

This made his cock twitch, lust filling him at the thought of your spanked, bare ass turning into crimson-like imprints by his own hand; or by the paddle with his name engraved, so that his name can be imprinted on your ass…maybe next time.

He is waiting for you to make a bad move again so he can discipline you this way, even if you weren’t his bride yet.

You break the kiss gasping for air, “D..Duuncan..stop” you panted with watery eyes, trying to break away from his grasps, with your hands pushing his muscular chest. He didn’t take no for answer. Removing your hands out of the way with his claw-like hands and putting them around his broad back. He then forcefully dragged you onto his lap to straddle his thick thighs, “be a good girl now, you don’t want to be spanked now don’t you?”

He linked his lips with your lips with urgence and dominance. His tongue dancing with yours, wet and minty from the flavoured cigarettes he tends to smokes.

You felt one of his hands leave your waist and lingering underneath your skirt to cup your clothed sex.

A deep growl leaves his chest

He dreamt of touching this pussy for years. Your soft and squishy puffy lips felt so good on his rough manly hand.

You let out a soft gasp with eyes wide open in surprise, and broke away from the kiss to come up for air, a string of saliva connecting your lips.

Duncan grabs your chin, not giving you a second to breath and continues his assault on your lips and your clothed pussy. His middle finger going from your slit all the way to your swollen clit while his index and his forefinger are on your lips, touching you slowly with his hand. He wanted to make you wet before you left.

Your face flushed, you don’t remember if you reached that base with Xavier yet or not…he was your first boyfriend.

This felt forbidden, having his hands all around you.

You felt like you wanted to go to the bathroom, you were worried it might have been your period?

His tongue feels like hot water burning your skin. He claimed your mouth with intensity. You feel your knees weakened, Duncan filling all your senses.

You are so close to his body, your head in the crook of his neck, eyes closed, you feel his warmth and felt his heart beating quick. You put your hands on his golden badge situated on his right chest, reflected in the moon light, to try and push him away, but he didn’t budge.  

he left your assaulted mouth, hearing you panting heavily, and started licking at the column of your neck, his hand leaves your pussy and goes to your bared fleshed upper thigh, his hand moving in a reciprocating motion.  

You felt his beard tickling your left check and your neck, His hot soft grunts and warm breath sends shivers down your body and to your aching pussy

Not sure if it’s lust? Is this how you felt with Xavier ?

You bit down on your bottom lip trying to hold back a sob or was it a moan? 

“Duncan, I don’t feel good”

He knows he is making you feel good, you just need guidance that’s all.

“Why are you moaning then huh?” He chuckles, you felt his chest vibrating from his laughter, giving you goosebumps.

“give in baby, let me take care of you, that’s what Xavier would’ve wanted” he mutters darkly

your stomach twisting into a nervous knot, is this what Xavier would’ve wanted?

“Re-ally?”  You utter quietly with a blush heating up around your neck and cheeks.

He didn’t hear you. Thank God

he gets closer to your ear and whispers,“Knew you’d taste so sweet, just like candy, I wonder what’s the rest of you taste like hm?”

He aggressively bites your earlobe, his hot breath danced on your ear, “I bet just like those pancakes you serve me every morning, thick and creamy.” In a lustful tone.

You squirmed uncomfortably on his lap, felt something touch your stomach, he lets out a profound loud rumble, you look up at him out of shock, his wide blown eyes have now darken.

He looks at your lips that is now glistering and swollen from the kiss, he finally marked a part of you with his spit, he can’t wait to corrupt your other holes.

He decided to let go, this was enough to get him by in the meantime.

You felt his hand loosening around your waist. You take that chance to go back to your seat.

“I….I.. think you need to leave Sir, thanks for the ride”, your hands nervously twist with each other on your lap as you mentally facepalm yourself

“Sir” where did that come from?

Hearing you call him Sir made him groan silently and made his cock stir painfully against the zipper of his pants.

His already rigorous cock getting harder. Duncan trying to recollect himself and not fuck you for the first time in the backseat of his car.. he thought you deserved better than that..a shy innocent young server…probably a virgin.

Well he hoped you still were a virgin, he hoped that fucker didn’t take your virginity. he wanted to claim you for himself, every part of you.

“Why don’t you leave then birdie?”

You felt your thighs automatically clenched and your pussy tingling.

he never called you that, why did you like him calling you that?

Duncan saw your legs clamping together and took note of that. He also didn’t realize you can blush harder than that….you realized you were in his car….idiot

You got out of his car and you heard Duncan tsk out of annoyance, “where is your manners kitten?”

Whats up with him? You thought to yourself.. you thanked him before why do you have to thank him again?

You did not care anymore, you just wanted to back home without any problems and arguments

You huffed in annoyance, “Thanks for the ride Sheriff.”

You uncomfortably felt him linger at your figure as you walked back to your house.

He loves seeing you in motion.you move better than the waves of the ocean, smoothly and flawlessly. His steel blue eyes scanned you up and down, consuming in your body with hunger; that waitress dress in pale blue making you look even more innocent and seductive, an odd combination. He believes only you can do that, besides Marilyn Monroe.

He hoped he can see you from your window, with no curtains or an open curtain, so that he can watch you domestically, wondering how you look like touching yourself when you feel needy at night, if you did touch yourself.

-

You entered home safe and sound then the realization hit you…. how does he know where you live? You didn’t give him your address? But then again he is the sheriff, he probably has access to all that information but …does he know everyone’s address by hard?..you doubt that.  Maybe he visited you with Xavier?

-

After he saw you close the door, he paused for a second to relish the taste of you left on his lips and was about to put his key back to the ignition, until he saw something interesting.. that made him much harder than he already was… your arousal on the seat of his car.

He reclined his head back to the head restraint,

“Fuck.. you are trying to kill me doll?"

He was so tempted to taste your arousal… he felt like an animal as he brought his index to his seat that was tainted with your nectar and brought it back to his lips.

A hungry growl grumbled in his chest, “tastier than any fuckin candy”

His chest was full of pride, he was glad he made you wet. Not Xavier. Him

He opens his car’s compartment, there lies a stolen panty of yours covered in blood from that day, he didn’t want your fresh arousal going to waste, mixing it with your bloody panty.

After arriving home that day because of sexual urges, he relieved himself to thought of you for a second time, with his left hand holding your used panty from a year ago and his right hand unbuckling his belt, to reveal his throbbed cock. He smeared on his long length, the pre-cum leaking at the head.

Working on his cock, he brings your panty to his nose to sniff your dried blood blended with your womanhood scent, it smelled pure and sweet just like you. To make himself cum faster, he thought of you coming to his office one day during your break and cockwarming him on his lap while he finishes up paperwork, imagining your painful whimpers, you fidgeting in his lap because you are finding it hard to adjust to his cock because of how big he was, he imagines his cock bottoms out in your tight pussy, and how you wet walls clenches around his big cock.

“Dun..c.an, you are too big”, you whine with a giggle, shifting it into a squeal

“Call me sir, love it when you call me sir darlin’”,  he growls in your ear

“Sir”  , he imagines you whimpering through tears from his cock’s intrusion in your narrowed pussy

“Dollface, you are taking me so well, taking me all in” he praises you in a slightly low deep voice

A groan leaves his chest as he starts pumping his erected length harder, going from the bottom all the way to the top, twisting his tip, and then back down.

He envisions his pelvis rubbing against your mound and clit, your pussy being pink and wet engulfing his cock, while his right hand is feeling your soft and pulpous butt cheek. Your chest is heaving right in front of his predatory eyes, he decides to save the lustful images of him sucking your tits and nibbling your areola another time.

He imagines your voice in his ear, calling him sheriff, sir, daddy and begging him to start fucking you.

As he is about to reach his high, his thrusts gets sloppier with his sticky hands, chanting your name like a prayer over and over again.

Groaning louder as his cock twitches, moaning your name louder as ropes of white soaks his hand, and soaking your panty a bit with his cum.

-

Tired to change out of your clothes, you quickly go to your bed situated on the left side of your room. You feel the most peaceful in your room, the only time you don’t feel like someone is watching you despite the reoccurring nightmares ever since the incident.

With the floral window curtains. Roses and daisies on a shelf next to a concealed window, giving floral scents all around your room to help calm your nerves and help you fall asleep. At least that was what your doctor had recommended as repression memories if stayed long-term can cause emotional health problems like anxiety, depression and post-traumatic stress disorder.

You immediately shift to the deep slumber of sleep, out of exhaustion.

-

You wake up the next day 10:30 am. You slept well that day oddly enough, a peaceful sleep. You were happy since you haven’t had any nightmares the past few days. That happiness shifted when you realized the sensual incident that happened in public, and you don’t know how you will be able to work in the diner again, especially how small this town is. You will be the talk of the town again, because obviously that situation had to be with the fucking Sheriff.

At least for today, you had the day off today.  You told your Boss Bob that you have an appointment with your doctor at 1 pm, and since you closed the diner yesterday he decided to leave you off the hook.

You made yourself some coffee, and went to your closet that was attached to the wall to choose an outfit. You decide to go with a yellow pastel cardigan with a yellow gingham dress that has a spaghetti strap, wear some rouge lipstick and yellow pale eyeshadow with your hair tied into a pony tail.

You then passed sometime on TV watching Bewitched re-runs, and called Carissa at around 12:30 pm during her break to check in on her brother.

Your hands swirling around the cord waiting for someone from the diner to pick up.

Selma answers, “Hello, Welcome to Jukeburgers, the best milkshakes in town!, what can I do for ya today!” You could hear Venus by Franke Avalon playing and muffled voices in the distance, seemed surprisingly busy today.

You answer loudly, “hey Selma, it’s Y/N, can you pass the phone to Carissa!”

“Oh, Y/N how you been? I heard from Adam about what happened with the Sheriff, so y’all a thing now huh?… You went for the old powerful friend.” Selma teases, her laughing echoing from the speaker.

Your heart felt like it was going to burst from your chest, you knew this was going to happen. Trying to sound strong and not in the verge of crying, “Whatever Selma, pass the phone to Carissa” your fingers twisted the cord nervously.

Selma just snickers and you hear her shouting out Carissa’s name to grab the phone

“Hey Y/N?”

“Cari!, I wanted to check up on you with Richard… you didn’t get to tell me what exactly happened…. is everything okay?” You utter in a concerned tone, gripping the phone handle harder.

“yeah yeah, we had to go to the hospital again, he got beat up again, but he didn’t wanna tell me why”  you hear her voice quivering on the other side.

You know Carissa is worried about him, as well as about his town finding out about his lifestyle.

She continues,“ You know Richard, I don’t want him to get locked up again, especially this town…views anyone that goes to the mental hospital… as lunatics”, you hear her voice quivering on the other side.

You remember Richard telling you that the Sheriff bailed him out the first time so now he owes the sheriff twice.

Why twice?

Was it because of his relationship with Jim Mason?

Does his sister know?

To not worry his sister, he sometimes tells you things that she doesn’t know and you were like Carissa to him. His big sister.

You snap out of your thoughts when you heard Carissa sniffling.

You hated hearing your friend’s sadness echoing from her voice, hoping you were there to hug her. “ I am glad he is okay at least, I miss seeing Richie, I will talk to him whether I get the chance… and you are right.”

You thought about what Carissa thought.

This small boring town feeds on gossip. It made you worried about Xavier’s parents…finding out about yesterday’s incident. Between the last girlfriend of their deceased son and one of his friends in an intimate scene.

What doesn’t help is that Xavier’s parents invited you and Duncan for dinner next week.

“He actually didn’t come today its as if he knows you might-“

You look at the time while you were on the phone, It was 12:40. Your eyes widen out of anxiety of being late. You cut your friend off without letting her finish the sentence.

“Oh shoot Carissa, I have to go now, my appointment is in 20 mins!”

“I really hope all goes well with the appointment, I know I tell you a thousand times but…I don’t really trust that doctor to be honest with ya”  she admits assuredly

There was a small pause, because you didn’t really know how to  react to that. He was the cheapest Doctor that you can afford. You really had no choice.

Carissa breaks the awkward silence, “well let me know what happens, hope it goes well!” She suddenly sounds different..and hopeful. Makes you happy that you can at least end the call with her tone shifting positively.

“Yeah.. I hope so.. bye Cari” you say weakly with a soft smile

The line goes dead.

-

You have been going to the doctor 11 months ago, it was recommended by the doctor who helped with your bruises and aided your surgery, Matt Rogers. Since there was nothing particular wrong with your brain scans. He thought it might be something psychological, and he was right. Your neurologist doctor Dr.Barnes, said it is due to trauma that your memories are repressed. Dr. Barnes said it is possible to have specific memories of people, locations and events repressed when it is too hard to bear. He also said It is possible for memories of abuse that have been forgotten for a long time to be remembered….you hope it isn’t related to abuse.

You feel nervous going to his office, you are honestly terrified of the idea of regaining back your memories, what if you find something really disturbing about yourself? About Xavier? How did you get those bruises? Why were some of your clothes missing? Why going to the doctor all those months didn’t help as much? Actually at all?

His office is located not that far off from the the Police department, in the neurology department of Willowdale public hospital.

“Welcome back Miss Y/N, please have a seat” signalling you to take a seat in front of his desk.

It doesn’t help that his office has muted painted walls, changed from age and a faint smell of mouth wash.

“So Y/N, has there been any recent changes?”, He asked while he scanned over your file.

“I finally have a small fragment of Xavier..in my head..” You pinpoint to right side of your forehead.

He knew about your relationship with Xavier and that you don’t remember much of it. It's weird how your brain almost erased that incident and Xavier out of your head.

“Finally some great news, please tell me more!”  He lowered your files to give you his undivided attention

“I..I don’t remember the incident, or any memories that I shared with him, just that Xavier had a similar car to Sheriff’s car, but a red version of it.”

There was a torturing pause, you look at your doctor, he seemed lost in thought with brows hollowed and biting his lower lip, he seemed anxious while clicking his retractable pen

You felt tension in the air, when you mentioned the Sheriff..but why?

He breaks a heavy smile,“Well, that’s great news to hear, maybe being  around the Sheriff might be in your favour huh?” he chuckles with a Chesire’s smirk on his face

Oh fuck. He probably heard about the incident that happened yesterday.

Your cheeks turn red as you turn your head to the left side of the room, focusing on the wall full of his certificates and accomplishments.

“Oh sorry, Y/N, that was unprofessional..covering his face with his hand, and then went back to look at your files

"No it’s all good Dr.” You gulped and nodded.

He clears his throat and asks, “ any nightmares lately?”

You shake your head, “I haven’t had one the past few days”

He nods while holding your file, “Good, Good. Are you taking the medications regularly at the appropriate time?”

“Yes…. but I haven’t remember anything that much sadly, is it supposed to take that much of a time?” You ask confusedly

“the brain is a complex neurological system, you can’t force its responses.”  thrusting out his lips in displeasure

You feel like you are wasting not only your time but also your money. But he is a doctor that you can afford so you have no other choice?

“Ah, I see, well as long as I get some answers pretty soon.” You look down on his Brintons carpet.

You felt your chest tightened out of sadness, will you ever find out what truly happened?

“So far, we are not sure if it is going to be a short term memory or long term memory loss Y/N, so what you can do is keep taking the medications, and you will be eventually get better Miss Y/N”

You nod with a fake smile.

Do you have a choice?

-

Duncan knew you were at the doctor today, he wish he was able to follow you, but he had a huge workload today. He wanted to see what kinda doll-like outfit you wore today. He particularly liked you in pastel colours and plaid skirts.

It was his break now.  He was waiting a call from a certain someone.

Clock ticking, and his legs bouncing up and down waiting for that fucker to call.

Phone rings once

Duncan takes the call.

“Whats the update?”

“Hi Sheriff, he continues "Well, your sweet gal remembered something..”

Duncan eyes widen, and his hands grips the cord aggressively

“What does she remember?”, Duncan says in a threatening voice

“She remembers he had the red car….. the one you got rid of”

His Adam apple gulps out of nerve but he is relieved you still don’t remember what happened that day.

“You fucker, you said those medications well help her not remember a fucking thing-“ his voice getting louder.

“Hey, hey, hey calm down there sheriff, no need to lose your temper, she hasn’t remember anything the past goddam 11 months! And I haven’t even tried hypnos-

“Listen you fuckin cunt, if she remembers anything I swear to God- I will put you in jail for your multiple-“  he chastised with a harsh tone.

“Alright Alright! No need to flip your lid! I will see what I can do to not make her remember a thing”  

“You better, or else I will make you lose your fuckin job and lose your pitiful wife” Sheriff expresses in an authoritative sound and hangs the phone stridently.

The Doctor had multiple rape attempts done. Duncan was called several times because of noise complaints, hearing ladies crying or screaming in multiple occasions at night, in drive-ins, parks and carnivals. 4 out of 10 times, it was Duncan who stopped the rape from occurring but he didn’t bring it up to the police department, and instead used this knowledge in his favour and out of power to gain information about his girl, when he discovered that he was going to be her neurologist, and to use him to manipulate her medications or her so that she doesn’t remember a thing.

He will do anything to make you not remember. He is shaping you to be his perfect little housewife. He got this far and he is not going back.

some songs mentioned in the chapter

https://open.spotify.com/track/3dDtXviPnTfLUg111MuTic?si=0d4f2a331a244100 - Midnight and The Stars and You by Ray Noble

https://open.spotify.com/track/2uwP4d0aVAo90aet6UnaRK?si=dc41f548d3324c9d - Venus by Frankie Avalon

Taglist: @instincts-baby @9layerdevilfoodcake @beautyiswithinchaos  @langdons-pinkyring @bloodcoatedeclipse   @plymptxn-reborn @5am-cigarette  @anakinsslag @michaellangdonstanaccount  @rexellaaa @jimmason @devilish-hecate @angelicmichael  @car241 @kitty4860 @deliciousartpoliticsdean @sojournmichael @ritualmichael  @darkladyslytherin 

@luciahoneychurch @saamwilsonn  @chicaluna2410  @honeyblossom56 

@codysprincexx​ @thatbit5 @wasteland-babe

[calwrites]

Fearless

Prequel to Don’t You

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader

Word count: 4.5k

————————

“Looks like it finally stopped raining.”

The murmur of the coffee shop was replaced by the sounds of the city as you followed Sebastian outside. The humidity seemed to hit you like a truck, making you miss the air conditioning you had just left.

“Finally. I thought I was going to be stuck in that coffee shop with you forever.” You laughed at the faux offended look on Sebastian’s face. “That’s what I get for not checking the weather.”

“Next time I’ll let you wait out the rain by yourself,” Sebastian threatened. His grin made the corners of his eyes crinkle a bit. Had they always done that? Had you just never noticed before?

“At least then I won’t have a bunch of teenage girls taking pictures of me the whole time. They’re scary. How do you deal with that all the time?” It had been disconcerting to have the group of girls staring at you and Sebastian as you sat and chatted. For a moment, you had thought you were crazy when you noticed them looking. The first thought you had was that you had something on your face or needed to fix your hair, but you realized why they were so focused on your table when they walked over to ask Sebastian for pictures.

Sebastian let out a sigh as he shrugged. For a second you were worried that you had said something wrong. “I just try to ignore it most of the time. I’m polite if they come up to me. I’d rather they like me than hate me.”

“I’m sure you have lots of stories. You’ll have to tell me sometime.” Your eyes widened when you realized what you’d said. What if he didn’t want to see you again? “I mean, if you’re staying in the city long. I’m sure you’re really busy.”

“I’ve got some promo to do soon, but I’m not filming again for a few months. I wanted a bit of the break.” Sebastian waved his hand. “Let’s not talk about my work. What about you? You taking the business world by storm?”

“Well I did just get a raise, so now I can almost afford my rent, groceries, and student loans.” The joys of living in New York City.

“Ah sounds like everything’s going well then. Are your parents still around?” Your parents had basically fallen in love with Sebastian when they first met him freshman year. A group of your friends had come over to your house for a movie night and Sebastian had insisted on staying to help you clean up after everyone else had left. Your mom had spent the next few weeks not so subtly dropping hints that she thought you should date him.

 “Yeah they’re still in Jersey. They tried to convince me to move in with them, but I told them I didn’t want to have to commute into the city every day. Of course, that set them off about how that’s what they’ve been doing my whole life because they didn’t want me growing up without a yard or whatever.”

“So it sounds like they haven’t changed much?” You shook your head slightly to force yourself to stop watching Sebastian as he laughed.

“No they have not.” You bumped your shoulder against Sebastian’s gently. “They’re your number one fans, you know.”

“Oh they are?” His eyebrows raised in surprise, and he was already fighting a smile, no doubt waiting to hear what embarrassing things your parents had done since high school graduation.

“They see all of your movies in theaters.” Multiple times, but you didn’t want Sebastian to think they were weirdos.

“Even the bad ones?”

“Even the bad ones. I did tell them that they aren’t allowed to buy any of the Bucky dolls.”

“They’re action figures.”

You rolled your eyes, but found yourself matching Sebastian’s smile anyway. “Whatever. It’d be weird seeing a mini version of you at my parents’ house. It’s bad enough that they still have a bunch of high school pictures hung up.”

“My mom does too. She’s going to be so excited when I tell her that I ran into you. You were always her favorite of our group.”

You stopped suddenly, grabbing Sebastian’s arm. He looked a little alarmed, but you ignored it. “Are you serious? I was always so scared of her. This is the best day of my life.” You had met Sebastian’s mom a couple of times throughout high school, but had never been able to tell whether or not she liked you.

“Scared of her? Why? Because of the accent?”

“The accent didn’t help, but really it was because she’s hot. That makes her intimidating.”

Sebastian groaned and pulled a face. “No. You can’t think my mom is hot. That’s not allowed. Take it back or I’m sending your parents all of the Bucky dolls I can find.”

“It’s not like I wanted to bang her or anything. I just think that she’s an attractive woman. Which makes sense considering how attractive you are.” Your mouth snapped shut. You weren’t sure who was blushing more, you or Sebastian. “Let’s forget about this whole conversation.” Sebastian laughed slightly and nodded.

It was silent between you two as you continued your walk through the streets. You weren’t really sure where he was going. You were heading to your car, but you couldn’t tell if Sebastian was also going somewhere or if he was just following you. If you had looked up, you would have noticed that Sebastian was watching you carefully. But you didn’t look up. Your eyes were on the pavement, watching the glow of the lights in the reflection from the rain.

“Do you remember that poster that was in our English class freshman year?” you asked suddenly. Sebastian’s brow crinkled slightly as he tried to remember, but then he followed your gaze to the glowing pavement and smiled.

“Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass. It’s about learning to dance in the rain.” The two of you laughed slightly as you remembered your slightly eccentric teacher. “We made fun of that poster so much.”

“It was a stupid poster. But remember it was raining when we were leaving the homecoming dance freshman year and we started dancing in the parking lot-”

“And all of our friends thought we were crazy,” Sebastian finished. “To be fair, we were crazy. That was probably the most fun part of the dance though.”

“Are you saying that I was a bad date?” You gasped and brought your hand up to your mouth as if Sebastian had offended you. Both of you dissolved into giggles.

“I’m saying that I was probably a bad date. I was so awkward. I had such a big crush on you.” Sebastian rubbed his neck uncomfortably. You definitely didn’t notice how the action made his arms look.

“Wait really?” This was news to you. You had always kind of assumed that Sebastian didn’t like you very much. He had always seemed to just tolerate your presence.

“Oh yeah. All the guys used to make fun of me because I got so awkward around you. That’s why I never talked when you were with us.”

“I just thought you were shy or something.” Or that he secretly hated you.

“Well that too,” Sebastian admitted with a small grin.

“You should have just told me. I had a crush on you too. I was so excited when you asked me to the dance.” You were so engrossed in conversation that you almost walked right past your car. “Oh, this is me.”

“Oh.” Was it your imagination or did Sebastian look disappointed? Before you could figure it out, he was smiling again. “It’s been nice catching up. We should hang out again. You still have the same number?”

You assured Sebastian that you did and the two of you exchanged more pleasantries. After sliding into your car, you watched Sebastian continue down the street. The memory of the two of you dancing wildly in the parking lot while the rest of your friends complained about the rain made you smile. You kind of wished you had asked him to dance again.

————————

Part of you already wished that this weekend would never end, even though it had barely even begun. You had finally made it out of the city and still had a couple hours of driving left, but you were already dreading having to go back into the office on Monday.

You and Sebastian had been hanging out more since running into each other last month. Most of the time, you got away without any pictures of the two of you getting out, but recently that had been getting harder and harder to do. Now, through what you could only assume was some sort of social media stalking witchcraft, people had managed to figure out who you were. The hundreds of notifications had freaked you out at first, but after deleting all of the social media apps from your phone, it was totally not a big deal.

Until your coworkers had found out. Some magazine had printed a picture of you and Sebastian, including your name underneath it, so now everyone at the office was either making fun of you by pretending to take paparazzi pictures whenever you walked into a room or constantly asking about Sebastian. Needless to say, you desperately needed this weekend away.

“Hungry eyes,” Sebastian sang, rather poorly though you suspected that was on purpose. You had seen him in musicals in high school. He half turned towards you, reaching out with one hand while the other stayed on the wheel, as he continued to sing along to the music. “One look at you and I can’t disguise these-”

“Keep your eyes on the road,” you scolded, though you couldn’t help but laugh at his bad attempt to hit a high note. “You know, I was worried that you would get us killed at the cabin, but now I know you’re going to get us killed before we even make it there. And stop caressing my hair.” You slapped his hand away for emphasis.

He reached out again to run a hand down your hair. “I am not caressing your hair-”

“Definitely were.”

“-and I am not going to get us killed. We are going to have a nice relaxing weekend at a cabin that I rented and am graciously letting you stay at without paying me back. And we aren’t going to worry about paparazzi or annoying coworkers or random people on the street with cell phones.” There may have been a incident earlier that week where you had almost gone up to a random person in the street to yell at them about taking pictures of you and Sebastian. It turned out they were just a lost tourist who barely spoke English. That was when Sebastian decided that you needed a vacation too.

“I think I’m paying you back by forcing myself to spend time with you. You’re very hard to get along with. Plus, I have no money for vacations. We can’t all be actors in Marvel movies.” The trees blurred by as Sebastian drove down the highway.

“You know, I could probably get you in the next Captain America movie. You might not have any lines, but you could stand in the background.” Had he ever offered any of your other friends from high school roles in his movies? No, you couldn't let yourself get caught up in these kinds of questions.

“Sebastian, thanks again-”

“Stop! I told you to stop thanking me-”

“Thanks again,” you continued loudly, “for inviting me. I know that you were looking forward to a relaxing weekend away before you have press stuff. If you want, we don’t have to talk to each other. I don’t want to ruin your relaxation.”

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably in his seat at your thanks, but then shot you an incredulous look. “How would you ruin my relaxation? I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want to spend time with you.”

“Promise?”

Sebastian sent you a smile that was so full of warmth that you could have melted right there. You were definitely getting caught up now. You tried to snap yourself out of it by thinking about all of the reasons you could never date Sebastian. First, he was Sebastian. He knew what you looked like when you were young and awkward. He had seen the awful bangs you cut yourself sophomore year. Second, he was Sebastian Stan. Surely he’d never date a nobody like you. Not that he was stuck up now. He was surprisingly similar to how he had been in high school. It’s just, he could date models if he wanted to. You were definitely not a model. And you wouldn’t even want to date someone in the spotlight like him. Third, you had been on like two dates with the skeazy guy from accounting. If you ignored most of what he said, he was only a little skeazy. Barely tolerable really. You could work with that.

But then Sebastian ran his hand through his hair, and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from saying anything stupid. Did he know what he was doing or was he just naturally this cool now? Either way, it was going to be a long weekend.

————————

The dance was not fun. Whoever was writing the prom scenes in all of those cheesy movies was full of crap. The decorations looked bad, your dress was uncomfortable, and you were so busy making sure everything was running smoothly that you weren’t even getting to enjoy your senior prom. You never should have agreed to head the prom committee. Surely the night would be more fun if you didn’t have any responsibilities.

Except you’d probably still be standing on the edges of the dancing watching as all of your friends danced with their boyfriends. You had thought that this would finally be the dance you had a boyfriend for, but then your boyfriend broke up with you less than two weeks before because you were spending too much time working on prom. Great. Wonderful.

It had been difficult to mentally prepare yourself to go to senior prom without a date after working so hard on it.  It had seemed almost poetic when Sebastian asked you. The two of you had gone to your first high school dance together and now you were at your last high school dance together.

Except Sebastian had barely talked to you all night. In fact, he had barely even looked at you. At least, that’s what you thought. Sebastian later confessed to you that he was scared he’d get in the way of your prom committee duties so he watched you from afar as you took care of the last minute issues. But you didn’t know that yet.

“Decided to actually acknowledge me?” you snapped when Sebastian leaned against the wall beside you.

Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. He was probably already regretting coming over to talk to you. “I probably deserve that. You just seemed busy.”

“There were a couple of issues that I had to take care of. I still want to enjoy the dance though.”

“So let’s enjoy it.” Sebastian held his hand out to you and nodded to the dance floor. You smiled gratefully at him and took his hand, letting him lead you out.

Neither of you were great dancers, and the dance floor was maybe a little too crowded, but you made the best of it. After bumping into another couple one too many times, you and Sebastian retired back to the wall, perfectly content to watch the others and whisper amongst yourselves.

“So have you had fun tonight?” Sebastian asked. You had, which was surprising considering how badly the night had started out. Sometimes you forgot how well you and Sebastian could get on. It was so rare to talk to him one on one. You really didn’t know how prom could have gone better. You were kind of disappointed that prom was wrapping up. Already, the dance floor had begun emptying as people left for various after parties.

“I did.” Sebastian grinned, obviously pleased with your answer. “But it wasn’t nearly as good as homecoming freshman year.”

Sebastian's smile faded as he tried to recall the dance you were talking about. “Wasn’t that dance really awkward though?”

“Sure the actual dance was,” you shrugged. “But dancing in the parking lot after was one of my favorite high school memories.”

Sebastian threw his head back to laugh, his hand resting on your shoulder to steady himself. “I’ll admit that I’m kind of glad it’s not raining tonight. My mom was not happy that I got my suit wet. But we can still dance like that tonight. There’s plenty of room on the dance floor.”

“Absolutely not,” you scoffed. “We’d look crazy.”

“Everyone here is either our friend or someone who we’ll probably never see again.” Sebastian held his hand out to you. You bit your lip as you considered before meeting his eyes. He raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“Fine.” Sebastian laughed as you took his hand, once again allowing him to drag you onto the dance floor. He was truly fearless in his dancing this time. Obviously you had to follow suit and ignore the looks people were throwing you as you and Sebastian twirled and spun and jumped around. By the time it was time to leave the dance, you both were red faced and breathless with laughter. The sky was perfectly clear as you walked through the parking lot, but part of you wished it was raining so you could once again dance in a storm in your best dress with Sebastian.

————————

“I thought you weren’t talking to me because you didn’t really want to go with me.”

“What?” Sebastian took his eyes off the road quickly to look over at you. “Why would I ask you if I didn’t want to go with you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe our friends told you to since neither of us had dates.”

“You’re crazy. I was so intimidated by you that I didn’t want to get in your way.” You scoffed and started to speak but Sebastian shushed you. “You’ve always been the most impressive person in the room.”

You weren’t entirely sure how to respond to that. Sebastian Stan thought that you were impressive. But what exactly did that mean? That he thought it was neat that you managed to wrangle high school students enough to plan prom? He said ‘you’ve always’ which seemed to imply that he still felt that way. Right? But he was a successful actor. He worked with people way more impressive than you every day.

The thoughts flashed furiously through your head as Sebastian continued to drive slowly through the town. He had certainly achieved his goal to get away from the city. It was hard to believe the small town you’d spent the weekend in was so in the same state as the city. Paparazzi had certainly not been a worry for the two of you. Eventually, the car reached the end of the road. Rather than turning around and heading back into town, Sebastian put the car in park.

“I don’t want to go back,” he sighed. You had to agree with him. You wanted to stay right there. It had been so relaxing to get away from it all. No paparazzi. No fans. No coworkers. Just you and Sebastian. But it couldn’t last. You had work, and Sebastian had interviews.

“So let’s stay here,” you suggested. “We’ll stock up on food and then barricade ourselves in the cabin. We’ll obviously have to defend ourselves when Marvel comes looking for you and my company comes looking for me, but I have complete confidence that we can take them.” Not that you had reached a position in the company where they would notice you were missing. Maybe after a week or two they’d notice something was off. Marvel was sure to be quicker though.

“Ha ha you’ve made your point.” He sighed again. “This has been the best weekend I’ve had in a long time. Thanks for coming with me.”

“Thanks for inviting me.” Your voice sounded small in the sudden stillness of the car. Sebastian’s eyes flickered over your face, going from your eyes to your lips. “What did you mean earlier?”

“About what?”

“When you said that I was always the most impressive person in the room.” You were a little nervous about his answer. There was a good chance you’d made it out to be deeper than he meant. But then you remembered how fearless and free you felt when Sebastian led you out onto the dance floor at prom, and you knew you had to know the answer.

“Exactly that. I’m constantly in awe of you. The way you were the smartest person at school. I mean, I think you’re still the smartest person I know. I don’t understand anything you’re saying when you talk about work. You always knew exactly what to say to diffuse any of our friends’ drama. You’re kind and funny and always keep me on my toes.” Sebastian paused for a moment. You tried to speak, but all you could do was look at his beautiful blue eyes. “Running into you might be the best thing to ever happen to me.”

“Sebastian,” you murmured. Before you could think of anything else to say, Sebastian’s lips were on yours. You smiled into the kiss as you ran your fingers through Sebastian’s hair. It was the perfect length. You tried your best to capture the memory of this moment. The feel of his lips. His hand on your cheek. The faint sound of birds chirping outside. The patter of rain on the car roof. It was all perfect, and you wanted to remember every second of it.

————————

You didn’t know how life could get better than this. Sebastian’s hand was entwined with your own as you walked through the streets. You had been nervous about this at first. What would his fans think? So far they had been curious but benign when it came to you. Hopefully that wouldn’t change now.

You had almost cancelled when Sebastian showed up at your door. A night in suddenly sounded really good. He hadn’t let you though. Instead, Sebastian had grabbed your hand and pulled you out onto the street. You laughed as he twirled you, causing the skirt of your favorite dress to flow out.

“Good thing it’s not raining today,” Sebastian had laughed. “This would be much less enjoyable if we were getting rained on.”

“I don’t know about that. I think we normally have a pretty good time in the rain.”

 You had managed to walk to the restaurant without being spotted, though you had noticed some people taking pictures as you were eating. By the time the bill had been paid, you were more than happy to take Sebastian’s hand and follow him outside. A short walk later and the two of you were strolling around a park eating ice cream on the way back to your apartment.

“So did you have fun tonight?” Sebastian asked.

“I did,” you admitted with a smile. “It was a lot better than I was expecting.”

“Ouch.” Sebastian made a faux wounded expression that ended up making you both laugh. “I didn’t realize you thought I’d be a bad date.”

“It wasn’t you I was worried about. Your fans kind of terrify me. Not gonna lie. I half expected them to show up at the restaurant and start pelting me with rotten fruit or something.”

“That would certainly kill the mood, but I don’t think you have to worry about people throwing fruit at you.”

“No. I just have to worry about what people are going to be saying about me online.”

“Hey, stop.” Sebastian caught your hand and pulled you back to where he had stopped walking. His hands cupped both sides of your face as he looked seriously at you. “It’s going to be ok. Yeah, there are going to be some people who say some mean things. Just ignore it. It’s why I don’t bother with social media much. It doesn’t matter what they say.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one they’re going to accuse of dating someone just to latch onto their fame or money.” Soon after you and Sebastian had started hanging out, the posts about you trying to use Sebastian’s game to get ahead had started. It didn’t really make much sense. Being friends with an actor wasn’t going to get you promoted any sooner. Still, they had annoyed you and sometimes made you feel weird about being around Sebastian.

“I know that you’re not using me. You know that you’re not using me. Everyone that matters will know that you’re not using me. If anything, I’m getting the better end of our relationship. I’m getting to date the most amazing woman ever.”

“Most amazing woman ever?” you repeated. “I’m not sure I have the necessary qualifications for that title.”

“Would you like to hear your qualifications?”

“Yes I would.” You giggled slightly, feeling like a kid with a crush, when Sebastian slung his arm around you and pulled you close so that he could whisper in your ear.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. You are the smartest person I know. You’re kind and funny and you know all of this already because I’ve told you it before.”

“Yeah but I wanted to hear it again.” Your face was so close to Sebastian’s as you whispered back to him that your noses were almost touching. You hardly dared to breathe as your eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips. 

Sebastian just barely started moving closer when you both heard “Is that Sebastian Stan?” coming from a nearby group of people. You jumped back almost immediately, blushing like a kid who was caught holding hands on the playground. Sebastian sent you a small smile before turning to face the fans who had come up to ask for pictures. Once he was finally finished with that, he took your hand again and led you back towards your apartment. Hopefully, no one had gotten a picture of you two in the park about to kiss. Despite what Sebastian had said, you were still scared of what people would say. Your hands shook slightly as you walked, so you slipped your hand out of his, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

Quicker than you would have liked, you were back outside your apartment building. “Do you want to come up?” you asked when he stopped on the sidewalk.

Sebastian shook his head. “I have to be up early tomorrow, and, if I go up, I’m never gonna want to leave.” Sebastian grabbed your hands, which were still shaking, and pulled you close before resting his hands on your hips. “I had a great time tonight.” He smiled, making you feel a bit more brave. This was just Sebastian. The same Sebastian you had known for years growing up.

Slowly, Sebastian brought a hand up to your face, giving you plenty of time to stop him. But you didn’t want to. He was making you feel a bit fearless. You grinned as he kissed you softly. Even though it wasn’t your first kiss, it certainly felt like it. Although technically, it was your first kiss as an official couple. And it was your first kiss out in public, where someone could take a picture that would make its way through the Marvel fandom.

But that didn’t matter to you now. The kiss was flawless. And despite whatever people online were probably already posting about you, you would never regret this moment. Life with Sebastian was undeniably better than life without him. 

————————

tags

@bbl32

[defdaily]

BEAUTY+ Magazine May 2021 issue featuring JAY B: The Second Act

Translated by defdaily

Among the past, present, and future, which do you think about the most?

The present. I believe that the present is the most important. The future makes you worry constantly, and the past makes you regret constantly so I try not to think about them. Now, I try to make decisions I won’t regret.

Do you think about your current state and things you want to do?

I contemplate a lot about the state of my emotions or what to do in my current situation. Ever since I was young I thought it’d be good to live like the flowing water, tranquilly. You know how water changes its state based on its surroundings. I want to be someone in the free water-like flow.

Has your life until now been like free-flowing water?

My life itself may seem spectacular, but I think the flow of my life itself has been. There was a lot I was lacking in since debuting with GOT7 but I tried my best to show a colour suitable for GOT7. I changed myself according to the container I was in, and instead of being stagnant in one place, I think I flowed here well.

You seem to be careful with choosing an agency. What factors are you contemplating about?

I think about whether I will suit the company. It might be tiring for others to see because I’m so meticulous, and I may seem selfish but I think that I should be selfish right now. My future depends on it as well as the future of the company I will be going to. I think I will have to be selfish for both sides to produce good results.

The members showed their natural sides in the Encore music video. Looking back to 7 years of GOT7’s activities, what is the most memorable moment?

Since we’re performing artists, I remember a lot of moments on stage. 2-3 years ago in Thailand we performed our solo tracks for 7 days and then performed OUT all together as a group. I think a lot about how we were all so excited to perform. I think of those times we were together as seven.

What kind of team was GOT7? Judging as a leader?

The direction of GOT7 I thought of was a fun and free-spirited team. Since Look came out, I’ve been telling the company that we “shouldn’t try too hard to set the mood or look cool. Songs with a style like Look will be our strength.” I don’t think things turned out the way I thought they would. But as you can see from our last album’s song ‘Breath,’ it feels like we went in circles and came back to our original spot. There is some regret about how it would've been good to go more in that direction, then we could’ve shown a more solidified colour. But as a result, it’s a fact that we became a team capable of pulling off various colors.

Did you make those suggestions thinking about the members, because you thought it was what set you guys apart from other groups?

I talked a lot with my members. It seemed like they had the most fun with bright, fun, and chill performances. With performances like that, we think about harmony rather than how each of us can look cool. It leaves a greater impression on the fans when we are visibly having fun.

It seems like the public has also watched over the growth of JAY B. Starting as a bboy to a main vocalist, and writing many remarkable K-pop songs. You also played a huge role in establishing GOT7’s colour. What led you to grow and develop in that way?

I thought that if I felt like I wasn’t growing, then I should quit music.

Does liking it not serve as a reason?

Because it’s my job. Being able to do what you like as a job is something to be grateful for. But if my skills don’t meet the standards and if there is no growth despite my efforts, it’s only right to do it as a hobby. I didn’t think that there was no growth when listening to my music. I thought it could work if I tried a bit more.

What was a song you feel like you reached a new level?

‘Teenager’ and ‘PAGE.’ I think the team’s color was completed with those songs. It helped me realize that I had the potential to write such songs. At first, I was persistent with sticking to my musical color. Later, I changed my thoughts and decided I should write songs suitable for GOT7. It’s something I should obviously do as a member of the team. I think that’s where ‘Teenager’ and ‘PAGE’ lined up very well.

The album 7 for 7 containing ‘Teenager’ was a turning point for GOT7. Through that album, we got the feeling that you guys found your color and most importantly, the quality of the songs written by the members was great. What happened during that time?

I think that’s when our potential exploded (laughs). GOT7 had three turning points. The first was ‘Stop Stop It.’ We heard the song and thought “Wow, this is it.” But the outfits were a bit regretful. The music and the visuals didn’t really match. We wore overalls (laughs). The second turning point was when the Flight Log trilogy was released, and the third was ‘Teenager’ of 7 for 7. That song later led to ‘Look’ and we got to sing ‘PAGE’ and ‘THURSDAY.’ Then we suddenly tried to change our direction to ‘ECLIPSE’ and ‘You Calling My Name’ but eventually ended up back to ‘Breath.’

When you listen to ‘Look’ or ‘PAGE’, do you feel like GOT7’s musical colour reflects your own preference and style? And you’ve made many GOT7 songs with ØFFSHORE crew.

It’s hard to say it wasn’t reflected. But according to my standards, they are songs I wanted to write for the team. I talked a lot with the crew about what (kind of song) should GOT7 do and what would suit GOT7. ‘Look’ was a song that was released because the mood suited GOT7 well. After that it was ‘PAGE’ and ‘THURSDAY’. Our colour was included naturally.

The 8 members of ØFFSHORE are consistently releasing albums. How is that taking place?

We talk about what we feel and decide on a theme whenever we want to release an album. When we decide on a theme, each person would write songs relating to the theme, we select songs and release an album. The themes usually come up as we are talking casually about life. For example <Scene 1> contains the process of leaving on a trip until coming back. Rather than the lyrics, the moods of the songs are like that. When you start the trip you listen to fun songs then (we) get a little calmer as the trip comes to an end. I organised the order of the songs for <Scene 2>. When talking with friends, you usually start by talking about work then you talk about life, the future and then you end up talking about love and relationships. I organised it as that kind of story. There is no specific goal. We spend the revenue from albums on production for the next album. Because everyone in the group are people who make music, there are things that were settled music-wise through these promotions.

You must have been influenced by your friends a lot not only musically, right?

Yes, of course. Regarding life too. I listen to what my older brothers/friends and my parents have to say. I think about the stories of the people who experienced it first once again. One older friend said “We are not doing this for a huge goal, don’t get stressed and let’s just make music.” When I was pondering about how to do better, I heard that and it hit me. Should I say, those words painted my life with colour. I felt like working with energy and strength didn't suit me at the time.

Is it true that you have made 3 albums? Do you only work on songs every day?

Yes. I usually stay in the studio when I can't do my hobby. And since the people I meet are friends who do music too. I don’t know if I can release an album but I’m preparing and working on it.

What kind of albums are they?

In the past, I made powerful “performance-type” songs, but for this album the mood is calmer and the sound is minimal. There is an acoustic feel too. There is a soft tender album, a sad album and a melancholic album too.

Where did the desperation come from?

The desperation of life. I can’t talk about it in detail but there was a topic I really wanted to talk about when I made the album. It could become an album that people frown upon. But, for the music I do alone, I thought I should include honest stories that match my situation.

Did you write about the pain and difficulties you’ve felt all this time? On the surface, you seem to be a recognised leader of a successful idol group, but you must have faced difficulties.

Yes. It’s one part of my life too. Looking back, the difficulties were caused by my own tendencies rather than external factors.

Is it because of the perfectionism you push onto yourself? It seems like the uncertainty and fear contributed to creating your current self.

Yes, I’ve never thought of myself as a perfectionist but people around me often tell me so. They must have a reason for saying that so I ended up acknowledging it myself. I was really ambitious with GOT7 too so I felt a lot of disappointment and stress. I work hard because I know if I don’t, it’ll come back to me as regret. It’s okay to look back to times when I didn’t know well enough and think, “I should’ve done this, I was naive.” What I hate is doing just enough because of reasons like lack of stamina despite knowing what I need to do and knowing that I’m not yet satisfied.

Until now, you’ve made music with the name Def. and through the JUS2 comeback, you also let us hear dreamlike songs from a baritone. Escaping from the category of idol, you now need to create a new identity – is there a kind of music you would like to do fresh?

It’s hard to say it rashly now but, whatever I do, I want to do it properly and solidly. I do prefer a relaxed and easygoing mood, but when it comes to music genres, R&B, hip hop, urban and pop will definitely be the groundwork. However, I do hope that my image will not be fixed to one (genre). It’s no fun to keep doing the same kind of music. And I’m sure there are times when I’ll have to become a little wilder. It’d be great if (I had) a free image. I also hope it’s an image that I won’t be embarrassed of. After coming to a new company and releasing an album, if it doesn’t do well, I think it would be right for me to leave.

Aren’t you fearing failure too much? How would it be possible to achieve what you wish in one go?

Of course, I’m scared. I’m very afraid of failure. Naturally, it won’t be possible to succeed in one shot, but I do have the standard of my Maginot line*. That is what I am referring to. I am usually the type that thinks of the negative things first. It’s not good to be unprepared for the worst-case scenario.

*Maginot line – taken from the fortifications that created the French line of defence, now coming to mean “a defensive barrier or strategy that inspires a false sense of security”

You’ve said that GOT7 has not disbanded, however since all the members are under new companies, coming back together as GOT7 will not be an easy thing to achieve. What kind of method are you thinking of?

I’ve talked a lot with the members. It’s our goal to write one song each month for GOT7. If it’s 1 year, then that’s 12 songs. All our members write songs, so if each one of us does that, then we can accumulate a lot of songs. Everyone is in different companies which will have their own situations, so I can’t make promises for certain, but our goal is to release one album every year. It would be great for that to happen, and I personally think that it should happen. Because that is the minimum courtesy we should show to our fans. It would be even better if we could have a stage.

It would be a new concept.

We heard that the release of our song ‘Encore’ was in an unprecedented manner, and this made my sense of duty and responsibility bigger. Because the steps we take in the future could influence the direction that others may take in the future too. I thought it was the end, but it’s only just the beginning,

Amongst your many hobbies, is there anything you would like to recommend?

Camping. Activities such as setting up tents and cooking really make you think. Even just sitting down in a chair surrounded by nature is really great. Waking up to the sounds of birds singing is amazing; the sound of water running too. Recently, I bought a folding furnace and create my own little fire space. It could be seen as something embarrassing but while having the fire there, if negative thoughts come up, I write it down and then burn it in the fire. If you think that camping may be tiring, glamping would be good too.

Since the name of the magazine is Beauty+, I wanted to ask, is there something that you thought was beautiful recently?

People passed by me laughing and making some noise, and as I saw that, I thought that laughter was something really beautiful. I realised why smiling and laughing is a beautiful thing. It’s not just laughing or smiling, but the emotions that encompass that are really so beautiful. Everything natural is beautiful.

Translated by defdaily.

[slyttherins]

Meeting the Weasleys | Bill Weasley x Reader

Summary: The reconstitution of the Order of the Phoenix bring Bill back to England to help his family and others fight against Voldemort. Bill takes you along and you meet his family...who has no idea he has a girlfriend

Pairing: Bill Weasley x Reader

Word count: 1880

-

Muggle transport sucked. Especially planes. Fascinating transportation system, but why must they take so long to get to places? Portkeys were much faster.

Usually, when going to his family home, Bill would use a portkey to the Burrow, but as the Weasleys had temporarily moved to the new Order of the Phoenix's headquarters, there was no point going there. There was also no portkey available to Grimmauld Place since it was a secret house.

A plane was the only option.

''You didn't tell your family you wouldn't be coming alone?!''

Bill slung his satchel bag over his shoulder, thankful for the extension charm. ''Erm, no. I wasn't going to announce to them that I have a girlfriend through a letter, it doesn't sound really serious.''

For that, he wasn't wrong.

''We can't just show up together on the doorstep, Bill.''

Suddenly, you started re-evaluating your decision to come to England and think it was a bad idea. It's not like you and Bill were old friends. You had never met his family. What if his mom was angry for not warning her he was bringing his girlfriend? Would this put you on her bad side?

Bill shrugged, seeing no issues. ''Why not? Mom won't mind. She'll be so happy to see me that she'll forget to be mad for not telling her about you. It'll be fine, Y/N.''

As you expected, it didn't go like Bill had planned. He was a fool to think he could trick his mother like that. Molly was furious.

At first, she was confused. Then, she thought Bill had brought a friend to help with the Order - they could always use more wizards and witches on their side. But, when he introduced you as his girlfriend, her mood changed and she started scolding his oldest for not telling her something so important - even swatted his arm with the spoon she was holding. Ouch.

Bill too had been surprised by his mother's reaction, having not been talked to in that tone since his teenage years.

''William Arthur Weasley, how could you do that? You disappear in Egypt for six years and come back with a surprise girlfriend and expect me to not get mad and act as if it's nothing important? How long have you been hiding this from us? I'm your mother, how could you hide this from me?'' her voice boomed through Grimmauld Place. It was like getting a real-life howler. Pretty scary.

Once Mrs. Weasley was finished, she turned to you, her facial expression completely changed, and smiled warmly. ''Sorry about that, dear. Some people have no manners and assumes they can't be scolded after leaving the nest.'' She narrowed her eyes at Bill. ''I'm Molly, Bill's mother...but I'm sure you've caught that already. What's your name?''

''Y/N,'' you introduced. ''I'm sorry for coming unnoticed. I kept telling Bill it wasn't a great idea.''

''Don't feel bad, it's all forgiven.'' The plump woman smiled warmly at you. ''Would you like some biscuits? I just took a batch out of the oven.''

.

After eating some biscuits in the kitchen and chatting a bit with Mrs. Weasley - Bill was trying to be forgiven -, you and Bill took your luggages upstairs and went to put everything away. There weren't a lot of rooms left - a lot of members of the Order had taken residency at Grimmauld Place -, but Mrs. Weasley had kept one for Bill. Ron was supposed to share with him, but now that you were there, Ron was going to have to move rooms. Sorry, Ron.

''I didn't think she would be that angry. If I has known, I-''

''Angry? She was furious, William!'' you interrupted as you entered the bedroom, finding it a complete mess. There was a trunk opened in the corner, quidditch magazines and wrappers on the nightstand, and dirty clothes everywhere. Bill's little brother was a messy person.

With a few whisks of his wand, Bill gathered Ron's stuff and put everything in his trunk - dirty or not - to make room for yours. In the end, the trunk struggled to fit everything, but with a little bit of magic, everything was possible. It might explode when Ron will open it, but it wouldn't be your problem then.

''I guess I overestimated myself.''

You started with your clothes, folding them neatly in the chest drawers and hung the jackets in the small wardrobe. There was an old smell floating in the room, but it was inevitable in a house this old.

While you did that, Bill reached for the toiletries items, frowning confusedly when he saw how many bottles of who-knows-what you had brought. What were they all for? Did you really need all of those?

''I...I thought she was going to hate] me because of that,'' you admitted, genuinely scared you were going to be one of those girlfriends that's hated by her future in-laws. All because Bill omitted to tell his mother about you.

Bill huffed a short laugh, but seeing how you were genuinely worried of so, he turned into a serious face and he came up to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. ''That's very unlikely,'' he said, turning you around in his hold and tilting your chin up. ''My mom has no hatred in her body - except for the ones who harm her children. I promise she doesn't hate you.'' Bill kissed your temple, but his speech didn't convince you completely.

''Well, she was yelling. To me, yelling is not something positive.''

''At me. She was yelling at me,'' he corrected. ''But then, she offered you biscuits, didn't she?''

''She did.''

Food was how Molly showed affection and care. She loved to cook all sorts of meals and desserts to feed the ones she loved. If you were particularly kind with her, she might cook your favorite dish at supper.

''Let's finish unpacking so I can introduce you to the rest of the family.''

You nodded and slipped out of your boyfriend's hold. Hopefully it'll go better, this time.

.

When you left the bedroom, you ran into two boys of the same height and physique, which you recognized as the infamous twins. Bill had told you about all members of his family on the plane journey, but telling apart who was who was another story though.

They both hugged their brother - who was almost as tall as them -, having not seen each other in a while and, when Bill introduced you, they looked shocked.

''Girlfriend?'' Fred repeated, sounding surprised. He glanced at you mischievously. ''Have you slipped him a love potion?''

It was all jokes, but you didn't know their humor so you took him seriously.

''Excuse me?'' You were offended that they could think you did something like that. Slipping someone a love potion was vile and immoral. Plus, love potions only created infatuation, not love.

Beside you, Bill rolled his eyes and laughed lightly, which told you they were only joking. ''Is it that difficult to believe that I got a girlfriend? Last time I heard, you all agreed I was the coolest brother of the lot.''

''The coolest, perhaps, but not the most skilled in the flirting departement,'' Fred teased. ''I think I deserve that title.''

''It's just, our brother never brought a girl home before,'' George explained to you, feeling sorry for the misunderstanding. ''How did mom take it? Her oldest son taking a girl home, she must've been emotional.''

''She was thrilled-''

Thrilled wasn't the word you would've employed.

''He's lying. She hit him with a spoon,'' you corrected.

Bill nudged you. ''Y/N! You're supposed to be on my side.''

You shrugged.

''A spoon?'' Fred and George chorused. ''I thought it was only us who got the spoon.''

.

Next was Ginny and Ron, which you met at the dinner table.

Although she was the youngest, Ginny was the closest to Bill. There was a special bond between the two that made you smile fondly.

Farther into the kitchen, another ginger haired boy stood on his mother's heels, trying to steal something to eat. Upon hearing Bill's voice, he turned and joined his sister, but didn't fail to give you a confused look, having never seen you before. If he had, he would've remembered.

''Who are you?'' He took a bite of the bread he stole and Ginny elbowed him for being rude.

In response to Ron's question, Bill slid an arm behind you, grin on his lips and raised his eyebrows, waiting for his siblings to catch on. Since knowing him, you had learned that the eldest Weasley didn't like to make a big deal out of any news - counting having a girlfriend.

It didn't take long for a wide smile to spread on Ginny's face. ''Oh my Godrick! I was not expecting this when you said you were coming home. I'm so happy for you,'' she told Bill and then turned to you and introduced herself - although you already knew her name - and kindly asked for yours. ''Finally, I will no longer be the only girl among those boys. Why have you kept her a secret?''

''I did not-''

Ginny gave her brother a look. ''You didn't tell us. It's the same thing.''

''Maybe he didn't want you to steal her from him,'' Ron joked, making fun of his sister's excitement.

Ginny glared at him, about to say something back, but before she could, Molly called out that dinner was ready. A loud crack echoed and Fred and George aparated in the kitchen, sneaking on Molly and making her yelp.

''Just because you're allowed to do that doesn't mean you-''

''Do you need help, Mrs. Weasley?'' you offered.

Although Bill had promised his mother didn't hate you, being helpful would surely get you on her good side.

Molly smiled at you, thankful for the help. ''That would be very appreciated, dear. You take the soup and bread to the table. Don't forget to place a cloth underneath the stockpot or else it'll burn the wood of the table.''

You nodded and got to business.

While you were helping Molly, two men arrived in the kitchen. One of them had dark curly hair and the other had a walking stick. They introduced themself as Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. You had heard of the former in the newspaper, but didn't dare ask questions. You simply smiled at him politely.

''Where are the others?'' you asked Bill when you sat down beside him, looking at the kitchen's entrance thinking two more Weasleys would come in. ''I thought you had five brothers.''

''Charlie is in Romania working with dragons and Percy,'' Ginny paused, glancing at their mom in the kitchen, taking something out of the oven. ''He doesn't live with us anymore.''

Ginny didn't need to say more for you to sense that Percy was a sensitive subject for the family. Especially to Molly. You felt like there was more to it than him moving out, but didn't dare ask as it wasn't your businesses.

Thankfully, the subject was dropped fast enough and Ron and Fred started arguing about who would get the ladle first, only for Ginny to roll her eyes and take it before them. Once she was done, she gave it to you to purposely annoy her brothers, which got a complaint from Ron.

''It was my turn!''

[yutahoes]

Roses and Blood

pairing: private detective! Yuta Nakamoto x journalist! Y/N 

word count: 4.4k words

genre: angst, a bit of smut, NOIR

summary : A high-profile cheating case just become a murder case. And the center of it all is the detective himself. 

warnings : death, murder, blood, cigarettes, alcohol, sexual themes (masturbation) but not detailed, abuse, mentions of cheating, mentions of torture

This is my attempt to write a Noir AU, I’m not a fan of detective movies or this genre so this is the best that I can make up. This is heavily inspired by Secret’s Poison MV. 😁  

taglist: @dimplehyunn @nominsgirl @jaesqueso @ahsshilee-me @readers-posts @justpeachygirl 

written for Neo-City Noir Collab Call by @suh-insane​

An extra cube of sugar in my cup of coffee. The only thing that changed in my everyday routine. The everyday bustling and hustling of the street outside didn’t change a bit. A typical day. 

The calmness of the office was disturbed when the door opened. A strong scent of woman’s perfume hitting my nose. Roses. She smelled like roses. 

The woman removed her coat, revealing a red button-down blouse hugging her figure. Blood. She reminds me of blood. A woman who might bring trouble. 

Her heels click-clacking against the hardwood of my office and she slumped on the chair before I could remove my eyes from her. “I need your help.” She started, crossing her legs. “Detective Nakamoto.” 

I leaned in on the table to assess her. An unreadable expression. She might be used to this. She took an envelope from her white handbag, sliding it on the table in front of me. "This is the file for Senator Hall." I opened the envelope which revealed a detailed copy of the said senator's information. "There had been threats to his life and I wanted to ask your help in finding who the mystery sender is." 

There are different sized papers inside the envelope, letters cut from magazines that contain messages of threats. “Are you and the senator…?” Her lips curled up even before I could finish my sentence. 

She handed a card, slipping it on the table. “I’m Y/N, Senator Hall’s publicist.” True enough, the card says that she is a journalist. “There are talks about how good you are, considering you found the mistress of Otto Holding’s chairman.” My jaw clenched. It’s not my best work but why did I get famous because of that? “Can I assure your help, Detective?” 

I nodded with a smirk. She knew the business. Interesting. The woman placed the briefcase on the table, “This is just the first payment.” A briefcase full of money? This is serious business. She placed a gold-colored card above the briefcase with the letters ‘Fantasia’ written on it. “The senator usually comes to this club. He often gets the letters in this place.” 

Fantasia? It’s a new high-end club that just opened for VIPs. This just narrowed down the list of potential suspects. They can either be VIPs or someone working in that club. 

“I trust that you do your job discreetly,” She leaned on the table and I found myself staring at the low cut of her red blouse. “Mr. Yuta Nakamoto.” The way my name rolled on her tongue sent shivers down my spine. And as she left the office, her heels clicking on the floor, I was left with the scent of roses and an unhealthy amount of attraction for the senator’s publicist. 

My fingers fiddled with the business card she handed. 

Miss Y/N. 

Trouble. 

Will I get to see her again? 

Fantasia is so posh, so high class, that security is so tight. It runs in an invite-only policy, the golden card that Miss Y/N handed. But even if you had the said invite, you needed to give them your personal information. Nothing bad will surely happen here. 

The inside was not anything I imagined. The smell of alcohol and the blinding lights are the first thing noticeable inside, followed by jazz music playing. Girls in promiscuous clothes were serving drinks as another girl with flashy red clothes was singing on the stage. The color of rose and blood. And I was reminded of Ms. Y/N once again. 

Senator. I’m here for a task. 

After getting my drink from the bartender, I searched for a place where I could sit and surveyed the place. Before I approached a corner seat, I spotted the man I should be eyeing, seated on a velvet couch and staring at the girl on the stage. Based on the files, he has a wife and she’s very wealthy. Is this another case of a cheating husband? Then this case will be solved immediately. 

The girl in the red dress singing earlier made her way to the crowd, stopping in front of the senator before giving him a smile and a wink. A smirk escaped my lips, case closed. I've been in this work for so long to know that his wife is giving him threats for having a girlfriend. A cliché love story. 

The task was done even before I could begin so I drank a little to celebrate my small victory. Although the drink is expensive, I deserved this. 

I'm busy minding my drink when the seat beside me gets occupied. "Hi." The same girl in the red dress singing on stage earlier. The senator's lover. "You're new here, aren't you?" 

Does she keep track of the people here? "Want me to show you a good time?" What? But before I could say anything, she lightly pushed up her skirt to show me her thigh. What the hell is this club? 

I turned around from her, facing the female bartender who was wiping the counter, and drank the contents of my glass in one gulp. I have to get out of here. The girl held my chest and I hastily stood up, feeling my head throbbed. What is happening to me? I felt my legs lose their strength as my stomach grumbled, sour liquid creeping up in my throat. 

Immediately, I ran to the men's toilet to vomit everything in my stomach. The sour and bitter taste coming out of my mouth. Where did this come from? Is it the expensive drink? Am I not allowed to drink expensive scotch? Luxury life isn't really for me. 

The moment I went out, wiping my mouth with my handkerchief, a surprise overtook me. A body was lying on the floor, a pool of blood by my feet. Turning it, I stumbled on my feet to see the senator as pale as a ghost. What the hell? I kneeled on the bloody floor, pumping his chest to at least save him but it's too late. He already lost a lot of blood. Shit, this is bad. 

A stray bullet can be seen on the side of his body next to something glistening. An earring. Gold flower earring. The lingering smell of cigarettes, mint cigarettes. Before I could stand, the door opened followed by a scream of terror. This is really bad. 

The door closed. I had to save myself. Even if it is the most questionable thing, I jumped out of the window and ran for my life. My hands were still bloody as well as my coat, the earring in my coat pocket. This is a first. What will happen to me now? There's only one person who saw me. They can't actually remember me, right? 

It must be the distress, the lightheaded feeling of panic. A blinding car light made me stop in my tracks. This might be my death. I should have bought the fanciest drink there is. 

"Detective Nakamoto?" Then the voice of an angel. I might be dead. "Are you alright?" The angel appears to wear a red shirt. The color of blood. Death. "What happened to you?" Her flesh feels warm, she's alive. 

It is the distress, the panic, that I cling to her arm. The police sirens could be heard and I begged for her to take me out of the place. 

The evening lights were blinding as she drove. Destination, unknown. Her phone rang and she accepted the call, Mrs. Hall. "My husband is dead." She stepped on the brakes immediately, putting her phone on handset before glancing at me. 

I didn't hear what they were talking about but her stare at me got me ideas. She might have found out that I'm in the same club as him. When she put down the call, she only stared at me. "You killed him?" 

"What? Of course not." 

She raised an eyebrow, eyeing my bloody coat. "I swear I didn't. I saw him lying in his own blood when I left the restroom stall." 

"Someone saw you." She opened the radio of her car, "And now, they're looking for you." The voice from the radio was talking about how the senator was found dead in the jazz club and that they're looking for a man in a coat. I hastily removed my coat, throwing it on the backseat of the car. 

She laughed at that. "You think that's all, detective?" She showed her phone, a picture of me taken earlier in the club with a wanted sign on top. Shit! "I asked you to find who tried to kill him, not kill him." 

"I swear I didn't," I shouted, putting my hands up. "I don't even own a gun and he was shot." I tried to think of other things I noticed at the scene of the crime. Come on Yuta, think. "It smells like cigarettes and I don't smoke." 

She raised an eyebrow at that. "But why are you there?" 

"You asked me to come there."

"I mean the restroom." She rolled her eyes. "If he was shot, why didn't you hear the gunfire? Why didn't you ask for help?" 

I closed my eyes in frustration. Journalists really are inquisitive. "I was vomiting my drink and I don't know, I panicked. I thought I could save him." She started the car without a word and I just sat there, looking outside to see where we were going. 

What will happen to me now? A wanted man. I can't return to my original life. Why am I in this mess? "I'm sorry. I believe you. I asked you for help and you were just trying to do your job." I nodded. At least she understands. "But for now, everyone knows you so I'll help you hide then maybe we can clear your name." 

I have nothing to do but trust her. I need to clear my name. Why is my brain so blank now? 

We stopped at a gas station to get some food. I’m pretty famished after vomiting everything but the moment I stepped inside the store, the news of the senator can be heard followed by a description of the person who killed him. The attendant stared at me before Y/N took his attention. This is bad. 

Hastily, I made a beeline outside after cleaning my hands off the blood. Y/N is already outside with a lollipop in her mouth, leaning by her car. “I borrowed some clothes.” She should have said that when I was inside but where did she get those clothes? “You can change inside the car.” 

Here? In the open? But she was already opening the door for me. The clothes were on the backseat of her car, a black shirt and jogger pants. And it’s better than having my bloody clothes so even if the shirt is a little tight, pants shorter, I have to wear this. 

She eyed me from head to toe and for the first time, I felt exposed. A raise of an eyebrow followed by the lollipop removed from her mouth with a popping sound. "Do you have any place you can go?" Is there? They're probably at my apartment address by now. The police might be in my office. I shook my head and she smirked, gesturing to the car. 

The city buildings are now gone, replaced by endless empty landscapes. It was a long drive. The news from the radio was replaced by jazz music, her phone kept ringing but she didn't mind it all. A blinding light changed the overall aura of the surroundings as she made a sharp turn heading to what seems like a motel. Why here of all places? It looks like a rundown. Is someone still living here? 

I followed her to what seems like an endless hallway, the smell of cigarettes and weed in the air as the sounds of grunting and bed squeaking can be heard. She inserted a key on the last door to the right, opening it and switching the lights on. “Stay here for a while.” She whispered before casually entering the room. It smelled like roses. Her scent. 

“Do you live here?” She shook her head, handing me a bottle of beer. Then why does she look so comfortable here? She removed her coat and casually throwing it to the couch in the middle of the room. Her arms filled with bruises and scars. “What happened?” 

She shrugged, disappearing to another door and I took time to look around. A large window covered with dark curtains, bottles of beer on the floor under the table. I even saw underwear which made me immediately turn around. There was a sound of murmuring from inside the room, she might be on a call with someone. 

I took my phone out of my coat pocket which revealed countless calls and even messages asking where I was. In annoyance, I just closed my phone and return it to the pocket where my fingers grazed at something sharp. The earring. The gold flower earring. It’s a woman. 

“A woman killed him.” I immediately told Y/N when she went out of the room. “I’m certain of that.” She glanced at me in question. “Maybe his wife.” 

“Mrs. Hall? She’s so kind.” She claimed. “Why would she do that?” 

“Because he’s seeing someone else.” The statement obviously came as a surprise to her. Doesn’t she know? “Senator Hall is seeing another girl in that jazz club.” Her eyebrows were scrunched to focus on my words. Then it came. That girl. She was beside me before I took a shot of my drink. She might have put something in my drink. She listened as I narrate everything to her, no one can help me with this shithole but her. I need to clear my name and find who really killed the senator. 

She bit her lip. “Do you really think she did it? The jazz singer?” I nodded. It’s only her or his wife. “I’m meeting Mrs. Hall tomorrow. I’ll try and look at this.” She rolled her eyes. “This is supposed to be your job.” I apologized. It really is. But my hands are tied now. I can’t do anything. 

The death was all over the news. My face plastered on every newspaper and wanted poster. How quick are they to assume that I killed the senator? Should I just come clean and tell them that I don’t have a gun? That I don’t smoke? 

With nothing to do, I laundry my bloody clothes and some of Y/N’s things. Lightly tidying up her motel room. Why would a girl like her live in a place like this? 

And as I reached out from under the couch, I found out exactly why. 

It’s almost midnight yet she isn’t back. Maybe she isn’t coming here tonight. So I settled to bed, removing the dirty shirt I have been wearing the whole day. The incessant pounding of the bed on the wall from the other room only made me annoyed and, well, disturbed. I can’t fucking sleep. The moans got louder, mattress squeaking that made it unable for me to focus on just sleeping. Fuck! I’m very well disturbed. 

My hand slipped inside my pants, finger tracing the outline of my member while thinking of a certain girl in red lace underwear. Hand wrapped around the hard rod, I started stroking while creating soft moans along with the sound of sex next door. “Y/N,” I whispered and a gasp can be heard that made me open my eyes. She’s in the doorway, looking at me in surprise. Fuck! Immediately, I removed my hand from my pants then stood up from the bed that made me light-headed. “It’s not what it looked like. I…” 

“Yuta,” she called. A sound that rang like a melody in my ears. There were tears in her eyes, a bruised lip, and a cut on her cheek. The reason why she’s staying in this motel room. Why that ring is under the couch. “I don’t want to come back to him anymore.” She choked on her tears. 

Y/N’s cries got louder as I wrap my arms around her. “Then don’t come back to him,” I whispered. How long was this? Why isn’t she speaking up about this? Why is she hiding here? “I’ll protect you, Y/N.” 

She stared right into my eyes. And I knew that very moment I shouldn't have let myself be taken by her good looks and smell. I realized that she was the kind of trouble I was looking for. The kind that would give my life a sense of purpose. 

My hunches might be right seeing how there are bruises and scars all over her skin. How can a confident girl be this fucked up? Now, I have more reasons to clear my name. "When everything clears up, stay with me." I whispered then kissed her bare shoulder. My lips went to hers, gently kissing the bruises and cuts in her skin as if I could erase them. My arms trying to give her the warmth she needed. 

When I woke up, she was nowhere in sight. Her car wasn’t outside as well, she must be off to work. The news is different now, something about the stocks dropping and the murder of another man in town. Maybe I can come outside now. But where should I go? There isn’t any diner or restaurant near the motel, even a store where I can buy food. I’ll have to wait for her to come home and wish that she brought food. 

Luckily, Y/N did. Sushi. Along with the take-out foods is an envelope that contains papers inside. A picture is inside the brown file, the girl from the jazz club. “Is she the one you’re talking about?” I nodded. Although her clothes are different and with a lesser make-up on, she’s obviously that girl. There were details about her, her name and her address. “Do you think she killed the senator?” 

“Why would she drug me if not?” 

“That’s not enough evidence, Yuta.” She’s right. It really isn’t enough evidence to name her the suspect. Shit! Is there anything I can do to clear my name? “I’ll try and watch her, maybe I can get some answers.” 

I moved closer to her, holding her in my arms. If we’re going to clear my name, she wouldn’t be doing this alone. She’s been through a lot. “I’ll come with you.” When she kissed my lips, I already knew her answer. 

She was exactly that girl in the bar. My eyes can’t fool me. It’s a high possibility that she is the killer now that we’re watching her smoke a cigarette. All we need to do is get her alibi and see if she has a gun. But I'm positive that she is the killer. Why would she put poison in my drink? Why me? 

Is it to frame me? She doesn't know me. Is it obvious that I'm a detective at first glance? Which came to my first question, why me? 

That question still lingered in my mind. It's been a week since we saw the girl. Y/N would always leave in the morning and come back each night with new information about the Senator's case. She had been working closely with the lawyers and the police about the case, updating me of recent findings. "Can I come out now? Tell the police everything I know about the case?" I asked while brushing her hair, her head laying on my arm. "I have enough evidence." 

"Evidence?" 

"An earring," I whispered and she jolted to sit, looking at me surprised. "I saw an earring at the scene of the crime." 

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" She picked up her discarded clothes in a hurry. Why? What’s wrong? But before I could ask anything, she had already left. 

The news of the senator’s death was once again on the headlines but this time, my face isn’t the one flashing but the jazz singer’s as the suspect. She admitted to the crime, saying that she had been threatening the senator since he promised that he’ll buy her out of the club. Fantasia club is now under a lot of criticism for prostitution and the unethical labor of the workers. A gun with a silencer was found in her possession, the weapon used for the crime. 

My picture flashed on the screen, not as a suspect, but as the detective who solved all of this. 

There’s only one thing to do now. Go back to my normal life. 

Journalists all came to the office and asked me a lot of questions. The newspaper was filled with pictures of me, claiming that I’m the best detective in town and the phone kept ringing endlessly in the office. I smiled, it hadn’t been a typical day even if I didn’t put an extra cube of sugar in my coffee. 

I was on a call with a journalist from the local newspaper when two uniformed personnel came inside my office. “Detective Nakamoto, we need your help.” And I knew, this is something serious. 

Maybe it already happened two times. I have been to this place before. Thrice. I have been here thrice. The mansion of the Chairman of Otto Holdings. It was his wife who asked me to come here before. Now, the reason was him. 

The officials informed me about the corpse, stabbed in the stomach then shot in the head. The killer wants him dead, I’m sure of that. I saw him a couple of times before and he is a tall man. If someone were to kill him by stabbing his stomach, that person might be close to him. Who would do this? His wife? But she’s already living abroad. His lover perhaps? Someone working for him? 

“Reports said that he’s here with his daughter. We’re trying to locate her.” He had a daughter? They showed a plastic bag with the pieces of evidence found at the crime scene: strands of long hair, cigarette butt, a bullet. Familiar shreds of evidence. 

They let me look around his office, the place polished in cleanliness except for little splotches of blood on the carpet. Old marks of blood. On one side of the wall were torture devices: floggers, leather whips, handcuffs, and wooden cane. Either he’s into serious sexual acts or he’s just a demon who loves torture.

A picture hanging on the wall took my attention. A happy family. The young-looking chairman was standing behind his estranged wife who looked really happy and youthful. On her lap is a young girl with such angelic features. Bright shining eyes. Then a familiar thing caught my attention.  

The gold flower earring was shining on my hand. The same earring the little girl is wearing in the picture. Why do I feel like I’ve been chasing the wrong suspect all along? I drank some beer, seated by the edge of my desk when the door opened. Before I could tell that the office was closed for the day, a strong scent of a woman’s perfume hit my nose. Roses. The familiar smell of roses. Y/N. 

She removed the black coat she had on, revealing a red wrap-around dress that shows some skin below her neckline and stops midthigh. Her hair has gotten shorter since the last time I saw her. Lips deep red. Her heels click-clacking against the hardwood of my office. A sheer lace thigh-high stocking completed her look. 

Her hand slipped on my neck, leaning close to whisper in my ear “Long time no see, hotshot.” My heart beating wildly against my chest. Her smell. That addicting smell. Her lips went to mine. Her taste. A deadly combination of alcohol, cigarette, and mint. “I missed you, Yuta.” She whispered in that erotic voice, fingers heading south my shirt. 

I took the glass of alcohol to relieve the parching of my throat, finishing the contents before holding her by the waist. “It’s you, isn’t it?” A smirk escaped her lips. “You killed the chairman.” I should have been aware the moment it smelled like roses in the chairman’s house. “You’re his daughter.” The same eyes as the girl in the picture. “Why…?” 

My chest suddenly felt tight. Like someone just punched my heart. I gasped for air. Mouth burning as if on fire. She just sat on the chair, crossing her legs while watching me. “Because he promised mom that he’ll take care of me.” She flexed her fingers, checking her nails. “I hate people who don’t fulfill their promises.” 

Promises. The same thing the jazz singer said about the senator. “You…” I coughed blood. “You also killed the senator.” It makes sense now. She came to me. She wanted me there. She pretended to help me. The earring. Her reaction. The taste of mint and cigarettes. “Why? Why me?” My legs feel numb that I fell on the floor. 

“Isn’t it your fault why mom left my dad? Why I’m in hell because of him?” It wasn’t a husband. It was her dad. He really is a monster. “Think of this as a little gift. You’ve became famous. Everyone will know that you died.” Her fingers glide on the edge of the desk, placing a small white pill beside the glass. “They just wouldn’t know how.”  

I called for her name but she just stared at me with an evil look in her eyes. “I sincerely liked you, Yuta. I even believed that we could be together.” 

“We can.” But every word felt like a thorn in my chest. “I love you.” 

The corner of her lips curled up, kneeling beside me. “But you’re also like them. Promising things and not actually doing it.” I grasp her arm, words not coming out of my mouth. She took her phone. “Mrs. Hall, the work is done.” She stared right into me with cold eyes. “Detective Nakamoto is gone.” 

Her lips were as red as rose as she smirked at me. Her dress, red. The color of blood. 

The memory of when I first saw her came to me. The same smell of roses. The gold flower earrings on her ears. The same color as blood telling me that she’s bad news. 

I should have listened. 

But it’s too late. 

She is indeed trouble. 

The kind of trouble that will be the death of me. 

Like a sweet poison. She’s a poison. Addicting. Deadly. 

And then everything went black.