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couchpotatoaniki · 4 years ago

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Idol!ATEEZ: Their s/o secretly writes fanfics pt.2

A/N: This was a request from someone who wanted to read their reactions to dirty fanfics *wiggles brows* but cba coming up with more backstories, so this’ll be a continuation of the first reaction

Tag list: @lovelyrose014-blog sorry this took so long :((

WARNINGS: swearing, mature content, heavily suggestive

Part One

Kim Hongjoong:

Hongjoong made no effort to hide that he read your stories. It was as he promised; the first time he read them was not the last.

He’d been filling up his rare breaks with your works, powerful words contrasting your timid nature and no matter how many times he indulged himself in your crazy mind, Hongjoong never ceased to be amazed.

You had more sides to you than he ever could imagined.

Although, there was one thing he put off for quite some time now, and that would be reading your more popular fanfics. The fan favourites. After all, being the leader, he should know what his fans like, and as your boyfriend he should know what you crave.

Hongjoong was a smart guy despite the goofy act he put on--very similar to your intelligence and geeky-yet-quiet nature. He knew that you wanted to keep him away from the dark side of your account, not wanting to scare him away (which he would never let happen). Hence why he hadn’t gone on it since he wanted to respect your wishes to some extent.

Until now.

Hongjoong swears it was curiosity, nothing more, but deep down he knew. He still needed to see that side of you, the side you deem acceptable for a whole world of strangers to see but not him.

Drove him mad.

But he was still in denial as he chanted in his head that this was only for research purposes. Bullshit.

Late at night, when pretty much everyone had gone home and he still had some work left to do, Hongjoong decided to take a well-deserved break, lying on his sofa as he scrolled through his phone.

He was doing what he had planned--he was finally doing it and nothing made the adrenaline rush faster through his veins. He clicked on the one which had the most reads, the one that was the most popular among anything you wrote, and from the title, it appeared innocent enough.

Maybe this wasn’t the one...

Then again, you were adamant that he never read it.

“Never hurt to try...” Hongjoong mumbled, despite being the only one in the sound-proof room. He clicked on it, anticipation making him restless.

Long chapter, as usual, and everything started out fine enough. No sign of anything, nothing suggestive at all.

What was the big deal about?

The next few chapters were of a similar feel. Sweet, gentle, fluffy. But he couldn’t put his phone down, something about this story had him...unsettled. It was nothing like your usually ones--with sadistic characters and an intricate plotline.

No. This had him slightly confused. It felt too kind.

Then he carried on. And then he realised.

That was exactly your intention.

The filter you had put over the first few chapters was slowly startling to peel away, into something more twisted.

Hongjoong buzzed off this, knowing exactly that the earlier chapters were a trap, a false sense of security. How you managed to poison every reader slowly, like your words were mercury.

By the time he got to the first smut chapter in the series, he was already consumed, work forgotten . Every word felt like it sucked out a part of his soul, and the heavy themes in the scenes had him in an uncomfortable situation of rather tight jeans.

Right now, all Hongjoong wanted was you. He needed you. To do all those things you wrote, to be there with him and feel the things he was feeling.

Luckily, you were always awake at this time of night.

Just a phone call away.

Park Seonghwa:

Although he loved your shower time, there was one habit that Seonghwa didn’t like and that was you leaving your notebooks everywhere. It made his daily cleaning harder than it should’ve been.

Never did he look through them, caring too much about not invading your privacy (save for a few months ago where he accidently found out about your fanfic account on AO3). But today was a stressful day already.

All he wanted right now was to lie down with you and watch some cheesy romcoms, accompanied by some snacks. Hongjoong, ever the perfectionist, was under more stress than usual and that meant all the other members were too.

Seonghwa was the nurturing mother, and even he felt like he lacked the energy to be as such with the way things were going right now--a comeback just around the corner.

So, yes, the tall boy was quite peeved today. He needed his charger. He needed you. But you were taking your damn time in the shower and he had to pick up all your damn notebooks from the most random places.

What even was it about these notebooks that you had to buy--or try to buy--a new one every time you entered a shop? Seonghwa never understood your love for them as he had only linked the devilish little thing to his work, where Hongjoong would be composing or writing lyrics.

The last thing he needed right now was something to remind him of his job.

The stress continued to build as this argumentative thoughts accumulated in his head, causing him to drop the hardback in his hands. “Fuck’s sake,” he growled, too pissed off at the moment to notice that your book had oh-so-conveniently opened up.

When he did, however, his fiery anger cooled down at the page, which had a few words on it. Luckily for him, your handwriting was fairly neat (unlike your normal habits) so he could read your little notes.

Phrases, sentences, ideas, the plot line in general, that’s what he got from a first glance. Maybe he could have a peek, seeing as though he was exerting a lot of energy recently.

The words, the plot, everything on that page was something he did not expect. It was smut.

Surely his innocent sweetheart wouldn’t be writing those, right? He gave you the benefit of the doubt when he found out about your fanfics. But you were a sweet girl, and he had always thought you mind was as pure as your heart was.

Then again, no one’s heart is truly pure, and it wasn’t the first time you had been tainted by him.

His eyes scanned your words, finding that it was somewhat vanilla and gentle.

A sigh escaped past his lips when he found that you were still his soft-hearted princess.

Then he noticed it was an old entry. Flicked through the pages and saw that the smut scenes progressively got more frequent and dabbled a little more in the dark side of things.

His heart plummeted. Not just because your innocence was slowly peeling away, but because he too found himself getting a little interested by it. Especially one of the last entries of that notebook, where he found himself blushing hard enough to turn his normal skin to resemble that of rubies.

Yet, he couldn’t stop.

That was until he heard your voice yelling, "Seonghwa!"

Eyes like those caught in headlights, his large hands shut the book with lightning speed. But you had already caught him snooping.

"What are you doing with my notebooks?" You cheeks a dusty rouge from both the hot water and embarrassment, you snatched away the book from his hands.

"N-Nothing! It fell and opened up and I just..." He sighed, afraid that he'd already broken your trust. "I'm really sorry..."

Exhaling softly when you saw Seonghwa looking like some sort of scolded puppy, you reached on your tiptoes to ruffle his hair. Calms him down a little.

“What,” you cleared your throat to rid your voice of fear, “what did you read?”

Now how was he going to play this? Was he going to lie and say it was only one page, or would he say that he had a peruse through the whole thing? As you had caught him already, it would not be a bad idea to tell the truth. “Um...bits and bobs. Just skipped through, really. I’m sorry.”

Smiling softly, albeit a little awkwardly, you patted his shoulder comfortingly. “It’s fine, I just... didn’t... expect you to... find out this way.”

He chuckled nervously. “Well, I’ve know for about two weeks now, about your... writing.”

“What?!”

Jeong Yunho:

One problem that you have, is that now Yunho knew you wrote fanfics, you became sloppy with hiding it. Not like there was a real need to because--as mentioned--he knew about it. How you loved to write thrillers and suspense and all there strange wacky things you’d find on a documentary about dangerous people.

Though that didn’t mean you never wrote other things as well.

Your works were obviously for a certain age and above (not like the warnings you put matter because the underage ones read it anyway), so writing the occasional smut was normal for you.

In fact, you were comfortable with it. Your personal experience with Yunho, combined with the ones you read online, all fuelled your creativity. Unfortunately, now that you became more open, Yunho had more opportunities to read what you wrote.

Not like it mattered much, you thought, because the words in your google docs were pretty much ineligible from the phrases only you could decode.

Sadly, when it came to smuts (what you wanted in them and what you didn’t), there wasn’t really a way to hide what you were talking about.

So when your tall and rather innocent boyfriend took a sneak peak at your latest entry, he was smacked in the face with the bullet points on there:

Fake dating AU

Cunnilingus

Blindfolds

Size kink

Hand kink

Sir kink

Power play

Complacent sub

(Because for some goddamn reason, every Yunho smut I’ve seen had either a hand kink or size kink...not that I’m complaining tho--)

Was this the stuff you were into? Because he certainly never never knew it. Your sex life with him had been somewhat vanilla due to the fact it only recently started and both of you were still a little too shy to branch out and dabble in other things yet.

His only thoughts until he next saw you were about this. If you were channelling your frustrations into your writing, then he could help you, right? After all, he wasn’t against trying this stuff out. It was a learning experience he was willing to go through. For you.

So when you came back from work, he sat you down on the bed, very nervous with his large hands engulfing your own. Concern would be a drastic understatement.

“Y/N?” You hummed in reply, now thoroughly scared. “I just wanted to let you know... that I’m not afraid of...expanding our experiences and neither should you be.”

Your heart dropped into the abyss of your stomach. “Y-Yunho, are you breaking up with me?”

“Wait, what?” The confusion of this situation seemed rather familiar. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I just...” he bit his lip, still quite shy. He really didn’t know how to say this outright.

So he showed you instead.

As your eyes fell on the document of your plan for the next smut scene you had to write, your face dropped. Horror was evident in every part of your expression and he could see that.

“Yunho, I--”

“Look, there’s nothing wrong with you wanting to try some of this,” he said, before bashfully looking out the same window you had when you had been discovered. “Besides... I wouldn’t object.”

Now that the both of your faces were redder than roses, the air had become slightly more...still and heavy.

“Listen, Yunho, just so you know, I don’t often write my own preferences. But I suppose trying new things is a bad idea...”

Kang Yeosang:

Almost a year had passed since your boyfriend had found out about your writing (through your clumsy cousin, no less) and you were careful as to what you showed him.

He often helped you through tough times like writer’s block, and understood your strange little habits. Even threw you an idea once in while whenever you were struggling to think of something or even took you out--restaurants, landmarks, whatever would help.

Yeosang was looking after you.

But now? Now, he pampered you.

That had you lowering your guard. He was being so kind, so why not let him read more?

Here’s ‘why not’:

Because he kept pushing his limits. Yeosang and you never had done anything, despite the fact that both of you were living together--by your request, since you had been in quite a few bad relationships where sex was a major factor. So, for the past two years, Yeosang had been alone in his endeavours.

All his intention was to find out what you were into. That was it, he swears. Thought it might at least curb the growing need to have you begging under him--or above him--just have a small glimpse as to what was in store. Maybe even have them as company when he really needed you.

Mission Impossible, is what this felt like, buttering you up, making you feel safe and comfortable (this came naturally since he always wanted you to feel this way with him, horny or not). You were like a fortress, always giving him more but not the stuff that he needed.

So he tried the same tactic he used to get you confess.

Truth or Dare (alone, obviously).

“Seriously? Last time we did it like this, you found out my rather embarrassing secret.”

“Just answer,” he pushed, watching you carefully as you climbed into bed next to him.

“Okay... truth,” you mumbled as you buried your body between his arm and chest.

“How about ‘dare’ this time?”

Your lips released a tired chuckled. “That’s not how this works, Yeosang...” But after a long few minutes of silence, you caved into his request. “Okay, fine. Dare,” you grumbled after saying something along the lines of, “if you wanted me to do something, then just ask.”

His lips brushed against the lobe of your ear, sending electric shocks down your spine. “I dare you to send me one of your smut fics.”

‘Surprised’ wasn’t really the word you would use to describe the immense shock that hit you like a train. “No.”

“Can’t go back on a dare.”

“But that’s even more embarrassing than having you read my normal fanfics...”

“No, it isn’t. Not to me, at least.”

“Yeosang,” you whined but as it became more and more clear that he would not give up as time passed on, you caved once more. Hesitant, you pulled out your phone to scroll through your works. What was the best one to send to him, you had no idea. “Can I at least ask why?”

“Because I want to get to know you more. All of you...” That one sentence had you more excited than you’d be willing to admit.

After all, it wasn’t just Yeosang who felt alone at nights (and sometimes days) for the past two years. Arguably, it was harder for you since you used to be very...active. Hence why you had such a selection to choose from right now--it was your outlet.

Perhaps it would be best to let him see the one that had you more bothered than anything after writing it--since he wanted to get to know that side of you as well.

Finally making a decision, you handed over your phone with bated breath. What would he think? Would he be weirded out? Would he not be into any of it?

For the boy, however, it was a completely different story; he was too into it. The more he read on, the worse his boner got until he looked physically uncomfortable.

Immediately seeing the discomfort on his face, it was as if your worries became reality. Hand reached out to snatch the phone from his hand but his reflexes were much quicker than yours, pulling the slab away as he kept on reading.

By the time he finished, his breathing was heavy and ragged.

This, sadly, had only made his situation worse. Only purpose this served was to make him crave you even more. Certainly didn’t help to have you leaning over him, soft, bra-less chest beneath thin, stretchy cotton of your shirt against his bare arm, trying to see if he was alright. Definitely had you concerned seeing his pained self.

“Are you okay?”

“Not really,” he humourlessly chuckled, “didn’t know it would affect me as much as it had...”

For some reason, you leaned further down and kissed him. Whether it was because of seeing his hooded eyes or feeling the tension in his muscles as he restrained himself against your body, you didn’t care. Relief was the first thing you felt, knowing that he was just as frustrated as you when you wrote it.

No, he was worse. You could tell by the feverish movement of his mouth against yours. You could tell by the harsh grip he had on your waist. You could tell by the stiffness poking your thigh.

Yeosang pulled away with as much willpower as he could muster, while your lips chased after his. “N-No, we can’t, remember?”

Huffing, you were thoroughly pissed off at the promise you made two years ago with him when you first started out dating. “Yeosang, look at me.”

His gaze was even more reluctant, knowing very well that it would be much more difficult to have the eyes he loved so much staring back at him with as much lust as he had clouding them. But he listened.

“That promise was there so I could get to know you and see if I want to commit to this relationship, long-term, and we’ve had two years to think it--which is long enough for me.” Each hand cupped his cheeks, pulling him closer for a peck since you couldn’t handle being that touch starved anymore. “So, screw me.”

Yeosang didn’t need to be told twice.

Choi San:

It had been a little over a month and San had still not dropped his admiration. Didn’t look as if that was going to change anytime soon either, especially with one of your recent updates.

Your current story had a lot of pent up sexual tension and all your readers (your boyfriend being no exception) were at the point of begging in the notes of each update.

Finally, you decided to take mercy on all the poor folks and finally write that one scene which had them crying with gratefulness at the end.

As it was a long-awaited scene, it had to live up to high expectations. While you could do the most tooth-rotting fluff ever, that wasn’t your style. This scene needed to fit the vibe of your series so the whole bit flowed nicely.

The problem was, everything you wrote was ‘too much’. Too much fluff. Too much kink. Too much basicness. Too much weirdness. Too much awkwardness. Too much cringiness.

Unfortunately, this put you in a bit of a pickle and you were close to losing your damn mind. On the other hand, San--the caring lover he was--had noticed. Wanted to do something nice for you, not just because he could clearly tell it was a bad case of writer’s block and he wanted to you to write more things he could read, but because it hurt him a little inside to see you this frustrated.

Requested a day of, which he got considering how hard he had been working, an spent that day as your personal servant. First up was breakfast in bed--fried egg (sunny side up), beans, buttered toast, hash browns and a tall glass of cold, hand-squeezed orange juice. Not to mention a shirtless San in plaid cotton pants, the only coverage his torso receiving was the pink apron he had on.

Kissed you on the forehead and told you to take your time, then get ready or a day out while he made lunch.

The next two meals went by in a similar fashion, where he had put so much love and care for everything to be perfect for you. Your favourite sandwich and a fruit salad, water and a chocolate chip cookie before a walk in the park where you both fed the ducks in one of the nearby lakes.

Later was dinner--arguably the best one out of them all. Steak with roast potatoes, and steamed vegetables (much to San’s dislike, but he withstood it for you). The day’s activity had you more than tired, cheeks aching slightly from smiling too much. Then again, you didn’t even notice because all you could think about was how lucky you were to land yourself such an amazing boyfriend.

Even after dinner, he continued to treat you like the royalty you were in his eyes. Offered a nice massage to relieve the past week’s tension all pent up in your poor muscles. It was innocent enough...

Until it wasn’t any more.

Despite the cloths thrown about everywhere on the bed, neither of you had motioned to clean up and San had instead opted to run you a bubble bath. Scented candles and all. It was more relaxing than you had imagined it to be, and by the time your face rested on San’s now-clothed torso--both of you wrapped snuggly up--you fell asleep.

The man loved the sight, and for once, he actually enjoyed running after you, making sure your every need was fulfilled whether you expressed it or not.

Because throughout the day, you were the happiest he had seen in a while, and all his efforts let up to this sight: you cuddled up close with that beautiful, enchanting smile faintly on your plush lips that he had so gently attacked not two hours ago.

He found himself loving you even more; a pleasant surprise as he had thought his cup was close to overflowing.

Two days later, he found himself falling even deeper when you had finally posted your latest chapter. San found himself grinning by the end of it--a little turned on, but more happy than anything.

Because San’s magic had worked. Cured your painful writer’s block since the words simply flowed as you typed the scene that had been causing you hell.

And whole chapter was awfully similar to that special day when San decided to take care of you.

Just tweaked a little so it would be more smut than it was fluff, adding just the right amount of sweetness that allowed your story to continue to flow perfectly.

Which was why San had been more joyous than usual the past week.

You were a perceptive person so you caught the change in his usual demeanour rather quickly. The source of it, however, was beyond you (he was good at hiding his knowledge of your secret). Any reason you tried to pin down on him was a little off.

Stress? No, he was too happy for that. Upcoming event? None that you knew of, and he shared everything of importance with you. Feeling happy just because? San was the more emotional out of the two of you and none of his moods lasted this long.

So what was it?

It was frustrating to say the least, but your boyfriend wasn’t letting it out. And you don’t think he ever will.

“Oh well,” you mumble, “can’t be that bad if he’s so happy...”

Song Mingi:

The boys had made a pact when they began to read your stories: no reading smuts with the group. This was fairly easy since they would normally be oneshots and you generally weren’t one to write them often into your series. On the odd occasion you did, you often put up a warning and explained straight after if there were any important bits.

All in all, very easy to avoid.

Mingi was a gigantic baby, and with babies, comes curiosity. A sense of need to know what’s happening. An insatiable thirst for knowledge and experience. Suppose what is trying to be said here is, is that Mingi wanted to read the explicit stuff you wrote.

What went on inside that wonderous brain of yours, he wanted to find out. But he couldn’t do that with the boys, nor did he want to. No chance in hell he was gonna be caught with an awkward boner.

Never would he live that one down.

So his plan commenced at night, when everyone in the dorms were fast asleep, he opened up his phone.

Now would normally come the dilemma of what to read, but Mingi is not that patient; as mentioned before, he is a giant baby. The first post he found that fit his criteria was the one that he read. Coincidently, that was result of your ‘experimental’ ones.

Using metallic things wasn’t something you had tried yet with Mingi, but you though you’d take it for a test run through your work to at least see it clearly how it would run if something like that was to happen. Sometimes, you found, it’s makes more sense to write it out rather to keep in your head.

On the other hand, Mingi didn’t really know that your writings stemmed from mild curiosity rather than what your really into (not that you would particularly mind trying some of it out). In his head, this was what you wanted to do.

He’d be lying if he said that the idea wasn’t much of a turn on, and the time he spent trying not to make a sound loud enough to wake up the other members would prove that. To him, this is was your wish and he would gladly comply to it.

The next day, he decided to run along with the theme, but to also add in a few twists of his own. You often liked that, both in and out of the bedroom.

Went out to buy some new rings for you, larger ones decorated with pretty gems for his pretty baby (even though he was one himself). Handcuffs, too, were ordered online, and a silver-chain choker--he made sure to double check it was safe to use. Next up was a little metal ball--he got this idea from the pokey challenge and something called the ‘passion fruit kiss’ on snapchat. Either way, he was excited to try it.

Babies like Mingi, as mentioned, have little patience and so he wanted to try it out as soon as possible, so the moment everything came, he quickly sterilised everything and waited for you to come home.

Made sure each metal piece was cold to the touch by keeping it in the fridge, and had a rolled up black silk tie stuffed in his pocket to act as a makeshift blindfold.

Sensory deprivation was the ‘twist’ he wanted to put on, since you both had tried something similar before with ice cubes and that went quite well...until it became too cold for Mingi’s mouth and that plan had to be scrapped sooner--hence fridge, for a little bit of coldness.

When you finally arrived, he looked like an excited puppy, and you had no idea why. Until he spun you around and tied a soft cloth over your eyes. “Mingi, I’m really tired and I just--”

“Shhhhh,” Mingi lulled right next to your ear, warm breath fanning over the nape of your neck which felt more sensitive than usual, “trust me?”

Sigh escaping past your lips, because yes, of course you trusted him. And now that you felt slightly more awake from his action, maybe you were willing to hear him out. ”Baby, what are you doing?”

Chuckling that followed your question was deeper than normal. Had it always been like that or was it your mind playing tricks on you? Either way, he didn’t answer and all you had heard was the fridge opening.

“Seriously, baby, what are you doing?” Now you were just nervous, all intentions of a lazy evening down the drain as your heart sped up.

It closed, and shortly after your lips were met with his, a faint taste of strawberry attached to them. Then something smooth and cold slipped past from him to you.

The metal ball was passed between the two of you in a playful game of which only your boyfriend knew the rules of.

When he could tell your guard was down and now you became a little more comfortable, Mingi slowly took your hands behind your back.

You had not paid attention, but you should have. Cold, tight restraints pressed against your skin, shockwaves making you gasp from the low temperature. But Mingi kept on going, kissing you to ease your tension.

Two metal things, so there must be a third, right? You knew about people’s strange obsession with threes so you completely expected another cold metal object to come into play. But the question was, what?

You soon found out when a thick chain choker brushed against your neck, clasping around it snuggly. This was it. This was the third and final one. And your suspicions seemed correct when you had not felt another chilly accessory grace your skin.

You wouldn’t have, not when the coldest of all the items--the rings--were being slipped onto your boyfriend’s fingers. You were in for a surprise in just a few moment.

Needless to say, there was only one thought swirling around in your head.

Maybe he isn’t that much of a baby.

Jung Wooyoung:

Ever since Wooyoung found out your fanfics were not about him, but his favourite K-Pop band, BTS, he had been...difficult. Moping around, trying to play for your attention a lot more than normal, not letting you have some peace of quiet with your computer.

It was almost as if he was jealous. You knew how needy the boy could be, wanting skinship with you more than he did with San. Knowing that you were fawning over men that weren’t him had certainly done something to him.

But Wooyoung knew you were no-nonsense. The complete opposite of him. It was exactly why he fell for you, and it was exactly why he wasn’t being as petty as he wanted at the moment.

He knew deep down you were his and he was yours.

Then again, that still didn’t stop him from feeling jealous, and had even gone so far as to decrease the amount he listened to BTS’ songs--especially around you.

At first, you didn’t notice the change since Wooyoung was often spontaneous so his behavioural pattern was difficult to decipher. Eventually there came a point where the clinginess increased so much, you couldn’t feign ignorance anymore.

Looking back, maybe you should not have burst his bubble and let him think that your fanfics were about him... Actually, no; either way, the moment he found out about your hobby, it was going to be hell. But now you just feel bad.

Yet, you don’t feel bad enough to stop. You never actually fantasised about being with them--it was just fun to write about. Clearly, he didn’t understand.

Your boyfriend seemed to be at his tipping point when he came back to you after a long day of dance practices that went sideways, typing away intently on your computer.

This was his time. You usually spend time with Wooyoung when he came back, but you were too busy to comfort him in his desperate time of need. Too busy with fantasising about Taehyung’s large hands or Namjoon’s dimpled smile.

Wooyoung was as cute as Hoseok and Jungkook. He had a unique laugh like Seokjin and was as flirty as Jimin.

He had all your favourite qualities in a partner so why spend time thinking about other men? He was literally right there, begging for your attention and yet, now it seemed as if you gave him none (which wasn’t true since the only thing you’ve done is become less secretive about writing).

When his attempts at distracting you from writing had fail, he tried to see what exactly it was you were writing about. Unfortunately, you had tried to hid it from his sight; the only thing that helped in doing was pissing him off even further.

Only after a tough struggle did he finally see what you had been so focused on that you had neglected him.

It was more BTS fanfic, but this one was worse. This one had him fuming--skin hot red and ears pooling out steam. This one was smut.

It was about no other than Yoongi, and by God, was it a rough.

That was how you liked it, and so did Wooyoung. Probably why he was so angry while reading about mirror sex with one of his fellow idols; you were just twiddling your thumbs in the corner, not sure about how badly your boyfriend was going to burst.

Wooyoung, no matter how mad he was, he had to admit... it did turn him on. Although, he was a prideful boy--not liking how you thought about others and more importantly, how threatened he felt while reading it.

Suddenly realising that it wasn’t enough just being all the perfect parts you liked (even if it came naturally to him).

He had a point to prove; Wooyoung could go beyond your wildest fantasies--and boy was it a wild fantasy.

Throwing your phone haphazardly somewhere (making you wince in prayer that it was not broken), your boyfriend gripped you by the wrist and dragged you across the room. You had barely enough time to realise what he was doing, only feeling a cold surface against your back as his lips ravished yours.

At some point, he broke away--lips swollen and slightly more red than normal. To say the sight had not affected you more than you already were would be a lie.

Still not giving you enough time to speak, Wooyoung turned you around so you could finally see what he had you pressed against.

A mirror.

If an idea of what he was planning hadn’t dawned on you, having his fingers tug at your clothes certainly gave you one now. His free hand had clasped around your jaw, making you look right into your reflection, seeing how your boyfriend’s lips were dangerously close to your ears as he looked at you dead in the eye through the mirror.

“Let me show you that I can be better than your imagination. Let me show you that you need to think about no one but me. Let me show you how good you’ll feel and who is the sole reason behind it.”

Yes, Wooyoung has all your favourite qualities in a partner while exceeding all expectations. That’s why you’re dating him.

Choi Jongho:

Ever since the release of your first movie and publication of the book it was based on, your career had blossomed. Finally, you quit the job that had been draining the life out of you to work full time at the publishing company.

Everyone around you could tell you were much happier, and the one who noticed it the most was Jongho.

Sure, your eyes were less sunken in, your cheeks more red, your step more bouncy. But he could feel that you changed on the inside too.

Your smile didn’t feel so forced after you came back from work and he had asked you how the day was. Now, your boyfriend found himself talking less and listening more to what you had to say.

If there was an expression more powerful to describe how he loved this happier version of you, he would use it in a heartbeat.

Sure, there were still times when the both of you couldn’t hang out as much as you would like to, but that was always in the job description, and the both of you were more than happy with it as long as the bed had both of you in it at the end of the day, both metaphorically and literally.

Then came along your second movie deal of a completely different story. In fact, it was based upon a movie you had watched at the time, and you hated it so much that you simply redid the entire thing.

In fact, it had irked you to the point no one could even tell it was based off of something since you had changed so much of it. However, there were still concepts you kept in the story--intimate scenes, for example (even if they too were completely changed).

You wrote such concepts before, and you would continue to do so since it was just interesting to write. Jongho, however, did not know about it.

At all.

So once your second movie was released, he was in for a surprise.

It was miraculous how terrible your memory was, since you had forgotten that you had not told him about the scene that would come up as you both watched it at home just before it’s release in the cinemas.

‘Surprise’ wasn’t really the word Jongho would use when it did come up, nor would it be ‘shock’. He was... mildly curious? Not that either... Well, all he knew that whatever he was feeling was not overwhelming.

“Did you know they changed this scene?” you spoke up.

“Really?”

Humming, you nodded your head. “They said the original scene was... Let’s just say they thought it was ‘too much’.” Then you scoffed under your breath. “Don’t know why they thought that though. It was fairly vanilla. Just some wall sex is all,” you confessed.

Now he felt a little overwhelmed. But he was mainly amused. “I don’t remember doing that with you.”

“Hmm? Oh... that’s because we didn’t.”

Chuckling under his breath, he cocked his head to the side, the paused scene in the background long forgotten. “Have you ever wanted to try it?”

“Once upon a time. Suggested it to my ex once before but he couldn’t lift me up since I was ‘way too heavy’,” you recalled with air quotations. “Didn’t bother trying after that.” You laughed at the memory, finding it to be hilarious back then and even now.

But your boyfriend on the other hand had not. In fact, he was no longer amused.

He was pissed.

It wasn’t about the fact that you had mentioned your ex--he never felt even remotely threatened by him. It was because he had called you heavy. He called his precious darling ‘heavy’. And you just laughed.

That was who you were--no matter how mean another person was being to you, you took it as a joke and moved on. You saw no point in dwelling over the bad, and that was one of the many genuine things he had fallen for. This time was different; it annoyed him.

Sure it might have been a dumb little memory for you, yet simply hearing about it had his blood boiling.

“Get up.”

“Wha--why?” The dark look in his eye had your lips sealing within the second. As if on autopilot, your body stood from the sofa you two were so comfortably perched on.

He followed you up, wrapping his hands around the back of your thighs, which only meant one thing. “Jongho--no. You won’t be able to.”

“Am I or am I not the strongest man you’ve ever met?”

“You are, but--”

“‘But’ I don’t care.” Forcefully, he lifted you up as you yelped, legs wrapping around his waist. “See? I can pick you up completely fine.”

Scanning his face, you saw that what he said was true. He picked you up as if you were as light as a feather, no tension in his neck, face, or arms to suggest he was having a hard time either.

It had you leaning against him, forehead touching forehead, laughing even more than you did before. Smile once again etched on his face, Jongho pecked your lips, walking slowly with you in his arms.

“Now shush and let me fuck you against the wall.”

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thesparrow1996 · 3 years ago

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hhngh when i listened to the bright sessions ages ago i felt bad for shipping mark and damien and now i want 2 relisten because of ur posts…. i had to stop not long after the road trip because interpersonal drama in podcasts just. tires me out psychically more than anything else. is it worth it? can i just read the spin offs?

they are by far the most interesting thing going on in tbs... the rest of the show is heavy on the interpersonal drama so i suppose it depends on your tolerance level and also investment in people other than mark and damien? i personally found it more frustrating than rewarding to listen to. the spin offs deal with different groups of characters so how worthwhile they'd be really depends on who you care about. if you are interested in the post tbs content all you really need to know is that joan and sam take over the boston branch of the am and ellie leaves because she gets a promotion. this is a presented as a win? anyway here's the spinoff run down!

the infinite noise: ya book about caleb and adam. retells and fleshes out the events of tbs solely from their perspective. very ya. lauren is not the best prose writer but its cute

the am archives: podcast taking place right after tbs focusing primarily on joan, sam, and agent green "reforming" the am. for some reason this is an action thriller. some truly baffling takes on prison abolition and mental illness. mark is here to have a mini breakdown, get experimented on, and then do nothing.

a neon darkness: ya book about damien's backstory as a troubled youth in la. "damien gorham?" you say, "a ya character?" i know. retcons abound.

the college tapes: podcast about caleb and adam in college. they have MANY interpersonal issues but if you like them some of it is good. mark is here. he's better now but he doesn't do anything. also features a big ol' mystery, time travel, alchemy, and at least four different secret societies.

some faraway place: came out yesterday! the last ever tbs content, supposedly. if you got far enough in tbs to meet rose, this is her book. very ya. interpersonal drama about familial issues and crossing boundaries with atypical powers. mark is briefly here and he does nothing. however this book prominently features damien and crosses over into his time post tbs. he finally gets an ending. depending on your level of investment, this might make it worth it to you.

generally, if you have a one sided vendetta against a certain audio fiction professional like i do you might enjoy picking these apart and the occasional snappy dialogue. i have perhaps a ridiculous level of investment in this universe so it has been worth it for me to keep up! if you're only interested in mark and damien i would recommend tbs 402, 406, and 408 and maybe a neon darkness and some faraway place? they're not the most well written but the audiobooks are respectively narrated and partially narrated by charlie ian (damien) which is fun!

#if this shows up in the tags im sorry #godlovesdykes #e.txt

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deathlikesdeep-dish · 4 years ago

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Inspiration (Zoro x Reader)

Hi all!!

This is one of my submissions for the lovely @nakunakunomi‘s 750 followers event! Many well deserved congratulations for reaching that milestone!

Cliche: Everyone thinks we’re already dating, but we’re just best friends. Oh wait--

Random word to include: Inspiration

Word Count: 1906

No warnings, just some cussing as per usual! Takes place Post Enies Lobby, Pre-Thriller Bark. Gender neutral reader pairing!

(read after cut)

He is normally able to keep these sorts of thoughts at bay, however, there are particular, special moments--like when the morning sun warms your skin and seems to melt the anxiety from your features, or when you let out a contented mmm when you eat your favorite food, or when your laugh is so boisterous that it instantly attracts everyone’s attention--in which Zoro is unable to ignore their quiet insistence.

You’re beautiful, he thinks.

The first time he had that thought, it caught him completely off guard. Before, Zoro had not considered ideas such as beauty. Sure, he found that his swords were beautiful, but not necessarily in an aesthetic way, though they were certainly visually pleasing. Their beauty, he decided, was more in what they represented, rather than their corporeal make-up. They represented power, assiduousness, and loyalty--a promise that he made long ago, and a promise he made to his captain.

But you. You have redefined this word, and many other words, for Zoro.

Never one to trust easily, Zoro had been wary of you at the beginning. Following the events at Enies Lobby, Zoro knew that the Strawhats would be targeted now more than ever. Each new place they encountered was rife with opportunities for mishap, and Luffy had a bad habit of inviting strangers into their world and asking questions later. But Luffy hadn’t been wrong so far. And he wasn’t wrong about you either.

You’ve been talking for the last few minutes, he is peripherally aware, but he has missed pretty much the entire conversation.

“Zoro?” You ask, and he is pulled from his thoughts.

“Mmm,” he responds, not looking up from his weights. The two of you spend the majority of your off time together in the Crow’s Nest. Zoro does his training, and you are content to read a book, take a nap or occasionally spar with him if you’re feeling brave. This fact, of course, was only fuel for the rest of the crew to concoct rumors of your “secret romance.”

“Zoroooo!” Chopper had asked Zoro one day. “Franky said that you and y/n were, I think he called it “bumping uglies” and I’m wondering what that means and if it’s happening.”

Zoro had throttled Franky for that, which naturally only made things worse and confirmed the crew’s suspicions in their minds. None of it was true, however. You and he were nothing more than friends. The best of friends.

In all of his life, Zoro had never found someone that was quite as compatible for him as you. Yes, he swore his fealty to Luffy from the moment Luffy had set him free from his Naval bonds, but this compatibility was different. You and he moved together, in sync without trying. It was almost as if the two of you had been charged with the same energy, and separated by time and space only to be brought back together by some fated cosmic event. Zoro would have rolled his eyes at the concept in the past, but there was something between you that he could not explain.

So, as with everything social-emotional component of life that Zoro did not understand, Zoro tucked these thoughts and feelings away, deep down in a place that only he could access. He wasn’t sure if even you were aware of their existence, but he certainly was.

“Zoro,” You try again and he puts his weight down.

“Yeah?” He replies absently.

“What’s going on with you today? You seem...off,” You say.

He turns his back, knowing that you will see something behind his eyes should he show them to you. He replies. “I’m fine, y/n. Didn’t sleep much last night.”

“Well,” You say with a quiet laugh, walking over to him. “That is a cause for concern.” You fold your legs and sit down in front of him. He avoids your gaze and does not respond.

You are worried, he figures.

“Nah, don’t worry about it, y/n,” He says. “Just had crazy dreams all night, I guess.”

He can tell that you are not satisfied by his answer, but you don’t say anything further. He is grateful for this, because he doesn’t know exactly how he would respond if you pushed him any further.

“Mm,” you say, unsatisfied, and pick at your fingernails anxiously.

It is silent for another long few minutes. Zoro can feel the air thickening in the room. He doesn’t like being so uncomfortable around you. In fact, he hates it. It had been such a rare occurrence up until recently. But things had shifted between the two of you as of late. One day last week, you and Zoro were hanging out as you normally did in your down time, when Sanji called the crew down for dinner.

“Bout damn time,” Zoro had grumbled, hopping to his feet and holding a hand out for you to take. When you grabbed his hand, he had pulled a bit too forcefully, resulting in you losing your balance and tumbling directly into Zoro’s arms.

He was immediately aware of your closeness, the thin fabric of your shirt allowing your warmth to seep onto his bare chest under his coat. Suddenly, his senses were heightened. Your faces were so close that your noses were touching, and he could feel your breath fan across his cheeks and his lips. He had let out a shuddering breath when your eyes met, and he could tell that you were also experiencing the current of electricity flowing between you.

“Zoro! Y/n!” Luffy had called obnoxiously, jarring you both. “It’s time for foooood!!”

Zoro immediately let go of your hand and took a step back. He was able to clear his mind when you were a few paces away.

“We should go,” You had mumbled, averting your gaze and walking ahead of him.

Zoro’s mind went back to that moment. It couldn’t have been more than 30 seconds, but it had felt like far, far longer. Every inch of skin that had made contact with your body was warm and tingling. Even now, he could feel the remnants of your presence.

This is Y/N. Zoro reminds himself internally. We’re best friends. You know how hard it is for you to make friends. You can’t jeopardize this relationship by letting that kind of shit get in the way.

Little does Zoro know, you’ve been thinking about the same moment. But unlike Zoro, you’re not going to let this tension go unresolved. You know that Zoro would let this go forever without saying a word. He’s patient like that, you’ve realized. And as much as he tries to hide it, he’s terrified of losing people. Of losing you.

“Zoro, we need to talk,” You finally say.

His stomach drops and his heart begins to race. Ah, shit. He thinks to himself.

“Yeah?” He replies, clearing his throat. He still hasn’t looked at you. You need him to look at you.

“Look at me.” Your voice is low and serious, pleading.

Zoro’s silver eyes finally reach yours. He is immediately disarmed, as he knew he would be. Your gaze is quiet and tender. He feels his chest tighten at the sight.

“What’s going on?” You say quietly. “Are you--” You pause for a moment, shifting closer to him. “Are you angry with me? About the other day?”

He hears the fear in your voice, and he is taken aback by the question. “Angry with you? What could I possibly be angry with you about?” Zoro is almost offended. How could you possibly think he could ever be angry with you? How could you possibly think that you are anything but his inspiration? Sure, Luffy was his motivation to be a better swordsman. But you. You were the reason for him to be a better man.

“You’ve been distant,” You insist.

He runs a hand through his hair, balling his fist frustratedly at the nape of his neck. “I’m not trying to be,” He says through gritted teeth. “I’ve just…” He starts to say, but immediately regrets it. “Never mind.”

“You don’t get to do that,” You object, raising your voice slightly. “You don’t get to just shut down. We tell each other what’s going on. We’re best friends!”

“Well, maybe I don’t want to be anymore!” He bursts out. The room falls immediately silent. He can hear nothing but his heart in his ears as he watches your face. Crestfallen, he sees silent tears forming at the corners of your eyes and he knows that he has not been clear.

“Goddamn it,” He mumbles, ripping his hand from his hair and clenching his fist tightly at his side. He looks away from you. He knows that he won’t be able to speak if he sees your face.

“I don’t want to be your best friend.” He says again, pausing for a long moment before speaking again. “I want to be more than that.”

“Wait, wha--” You start, but Zoro holds his hand up to you, pleading for silence.

“Please, Y/N, let me get through this,” He replies. You close your mouth and wait. “I want to be more than your best friend. I’m--I’m not the best with words or feelings or whatever. But, but...fuck,” He groans frustrated that he can’t articulate his emotions. “I think I’m in love with you. The other day, you were just so close and you smelled so good and your body felt…” He trails off.

“Zoro…” You whisper.

“Y/N, I can’t keep things like this anymore. I need…I need more. And I know I’m not in a position to ask for that kind of shit and you for damn sure don’t owe me anything, but, I just need…”

You’ve crossed the small distance between your bodies and quiet his speech with your finger. “Zoro,” You say again, more gently, smiling. You feel him shiver, the current flowing through his entire muscled body to the finger on his lips, the air sending chills down your own spine. “I think I might be in love with you too.”

The words land on his ears and he almost feels as if he could burst into tears. His sigh of relief is palpable and the hand that has been gripping his thigh moves to thread through your hair, pulling you closer to him. “Thank fucking god,” he murmurs before pressing his lips to yours.

The heat that he felt between the two of you that day was nothing compared to the heat between the two of you now. He groans, the pit of nervousness in his stomach slowly dissolving to a different sort of pit. He feels each line of your body pressed against his and makes himself pull back. He wants to be slow. He wants you to be sure.

He extricates his lips from yours with discontented sigh. “Y/N,” He whispers. “We have all the time in the world. I don’t want to rush you.”

You smile at his thoughtfulness. “I love you, Zoro. You’ll always be my best friend.”

He smiles in return and kisses the tip of your nose gently before resting his forehead against yours. He is nearly overwhelmed by his joy, relieved beyond belief that you felt the same way. You are his best friend. And now you were more than that too. He can’t find any other words to say.

“Yeah,” He says. “The very best.”

#writing challenge #nakunakunomi #writing event #750 followers #750 followers event #zoro roronoa #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #one piece #anime #one piece scenario #zoro scenario #inspiration #cliche with hazel

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bryceslahela · 4 years ago

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episode story recs

a/n: yes i know episode has a bad rep for cringy, horribly written stories that appeal to a very young market but there are some genuine gems on there, you just need to know where to look! all these books are free to play, meaning you don’t need to spend gems for extra content!

wentworth: mc attends a spy school and has to deal with a bunch of shit, alongside her friends. the friendship group is so inclusive and they’re so close it’s adorable. there are two main lis, and a third one later in the series, a woman and two men. it’s a great read! 9/10

sweet nothings: a story about an apartment complex in newark, each story is about a new person in the apartment and their struggle with their identities. your mc shows up as an apartment worker occasionally! it’s extremely well-written and centres mainly around lgbt+ stories! 8/10 (only cause it’s not finished ☹️)

pick your poison: each episode is a new story witn multiple endings, and you can create a new character for each story. sometimes it’s a male mc, sometimes a female and sometimes you can pick either. it’s very fun and i guarantee you’ll want to replay to get the different endings and results! 9/10

sherlock in love: a modern day retelling of sherlock but with a non-binary sherlock of color and a muslim watson. yes it’s a love story and it’s written in the most beautiful way. i really can’t stress how much this story made me feel, like i actually cried at certain parts. it’s definitely in my top three. 10/10.

legally clueless: avery and sebastian are meant to be. period. you get to play as avery, and you can also customise her. this is a sweet rom-com that’ll make you fall in love with all the characters. there is the perfect mix of sweetness, angst and comedy that equals the perfect read! 10/10.

mystery on hanging hill lane: this story is about a friendship group dealing with an anonymous chaotic person with a grudge against them. i want to tell you more but i don’t want to ruin the story!! the choices do matter and it’s a fun read, once i started i genuinely couldn’t stop playing! there is also a sequel being updated as we speak! 9/10

behind closed doors: mc decides to pose as her rich best friends fiancée to help get their family off their back but it opens a whole can of worms that was never supposed to be opened. this is a thriller that is really hard to put down, with twists and turns at every corner. i want to write more but i can’t without spoiling it! you get to choice the fake fiancè/e’s gender and your li’s gender! 10/10.

counting sheep: mc is constantly moving from place to place and finally settles in her mother’s hometown, but her arrival seems to shake things up in the small town. she bands together with the goody-two shoes, the rebel boy and the outcast to find out what’s really going on. the best part of this book is that your choices get to decide the mc’s personality and dialogue. also, your choices matter and by that i mean all of them. 9/10.

trials of suburbia: you are a new housewife in a new neighbourhood and are lonely while your husband or wife is at work, and your daughter has started school. so when the resident housewife it crew invite you to compete to join them, you can’t help but accept. there are multiple trials for your housewife to compete if they want to join, and it’s a lot of fun. i would really enjoy it if you like dramadies! 10/10

bonus: literally any of kayla sloan’s works!!! her writing is amazing. she mixes comedy, drama, and angst together in the best ways. she’s absolutely one of the best writers that episode has to offer!!!! 100/10

#episode stories #episode #interactive story #interactive story recs #if you like #playchoices #you’ll prolly like dis #episode story #interactive book

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hamliet · 4 years ago

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Hello Hamliet, happy 26th December! (still an holiday for me 🙈).

I really used to love Rwby and overall I liked your interpretation... even if I think it’s too much for that show. Honestly is one of the worse media and unplanned and random plot I’ve ever seen (yeah I’m still burnt cause I really really loved it).

Your writing about it makes me wish it was you the one pulling strings and building the plot behind it. It would have made justice to a story that was really good despite the tech limits it had in the first seasons (1-3 vol.). Don’t be humble: with the dedication and the deepness you gave it in your interpretation I have no doubt it would be 100 times better.

Hope to read a book/script of yours some day! With all the insane patterns you’re able to see, if you ever wrote a thriller / detective type genre, I’d fall hard for your writings!

Well, thank you for your kind words and confidence in my writing! I do like writing thrillers/mysteries at times. I hope you get to read one too.

As for Rwby, I’ve been that crushed by media I used to love before too (TG), so I’m sorry, that sucks. I’m definitely supportive of anyone’s feelings on any media. I’m sorry this happened; you’re allowed to be disappointed and bitter and critical!

My personal opinion is that it definitely has its flaws, but they don’t necessarily seem worse written than say Korra and it is better written than The Dragon Prince. It’s got pacing issues and has too many characters, plus the way in which it handles social justice is... occasionally clumsy. I do think the build up generally leads somewhere and the themes are entirely consistent throughout, as are the character arcs, so I’m content thus far (but no one has to be! Your opinion is just as valid)—but I’ve watched straight from the beginning until now, and might well feel differently if watching weekly. Which I now will be, so... we shall see. My biggest complaint thus far besides pacing is the treatment of Blake and Sun’s relationship, which was just bad. And I’m saying this as someone who likes Blake and Yang; I just wish they hadn’t built Sun and Blake up at the same time (they built both with romantic coding) for reasons that seem unclear and could be expanded on in Vacuo... but I’m not optimistic they will be, and even if so... pacing.

I also think some of the story’s pacing issues can be chalked up to the creator’s tragic death midway through. :( writing is hard, and taking over someone’s work when you’re grieving must be really hard too. That said, of course the work is still subject to critique.

Happy Holidays!

#ask hamliet

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hyperdrivehearts · 5 years ago

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Headcanon time! Would Yusei or Kalin want to adopt kids of their own? What are their favorite types of movies and shows? Are there hobbies or skills you can imagine them wanting to learn other than mechanics and dueling? What kinds of things do they like and dislike eating?

- Would Yusei or Kalin want to adopt kids of their own?

As of right now, in my mainverse canon, Yusei and Kalin don’t particularly want any kids; mostly because neither really know what they want out of life just yet (as long as they’re with each other tbqh.) So, for the time being they’re content with their four cats.

Although Yusei has the tendency to become a father or elder brother to literately any child he comes across, it would still be something he’d severely discuss with Kalin– and he does! (thank god these two have good communication with each other post canon.) They both would want kids..eventually, just not anytime soon because they’re still young, and because of Kalin’s mental health.

Even post canon, Kalin’s mental health is still kinda shitty– although he has made a ton of progress since he first joined Team 5Ds, having a therapist and he is on medication, it still isn’t the best to be in the spot of taking care of someone… bigger than a cat. There are days where Kalin’s really only gets out of bed to feed the cats or use the washroom, even with Yusei by his side. Yusei doesn’t force Kalin to do anything he doesn’t want to do, and just wants to make sure the other is doing okay. (He’ll close Stardust Mechanics in a heartbeat to take care of Kalin, ok?)

Kalin knows that days like those would inevitably impact his ability to care for a child, he can’t take “me days” because it affects the kid, and Kalin really, really, really wants to be the best the best version of himself possible when they do have a kid around.

Yusei and Kalin have probably also looked into surrogacy, at the suggestion of Akiza (since she is studying to become a doctor afterall,) and would also consider looking into that as an option.

HOWEVER, that all being said, in my thread with Moon’s (burningalma) Takeru, in their 5Ds verse, Kalin does befriend Takeru because of cats and we have joked that Takeru kinda just moves in of his own accord because of said cats. lets be honest knowing me and my love for found family kalin n yus are probably gonna adopt him

IN ANOTHER AU ENTIRELY ON DISCORD, Kalin and Yusei are the super cool dads of Moon’s and Kasa’s (soulburnings) Takeru’s and its nothing but slice of life and the Takeru’s being little shits and its the BEST thing since sliced bread (maybe one day we’ll actually have a thread on tumblr instead of screaming in DMs.)

I’ll be putting the rest of the headcanons under the cut!!

- What are their favorite types of movies and shows?

Neither of the two tend to watch movies or shows. Kalin as a whole feels very disconnected from pop culture, because he was dead for so long (four years is a pretty fair amount of time when you’re in your early 20s,) and generally feels disconnected from society as a whole as a result of it.

For Kalin, there’s also the issue of his ADHD coming into play if he’s not engaged enough by the movie, he’ll have the tendency to just,, zone out and think of other things as it’s playing, and when he tunes in the story has moved so far along already he doesn’t see a point in getting back into it.

Yusei is a workaholic, and I don’t think he’s physically capable of sitting down and actually watching a movie, unless it’s the once-a-month movie night with the rest of Team 5Ds where they all squish themselves onto the couches and floor, but he definitely puts the television on when he’s working and radio isn’t enough background noise, only paying attention occasionally.

Even so, they both have their preferences on what to watch and/or to listen to. I’m 99% sure they’d both like action packed superhero movies, and Yusei probably got Kalin into watching mystery thrillers with him. Kalin definitely enjoys cooking shows, mostly because he is the one of the two of them to cook. Yusei would enjoy those fixer upper shows– like Holmes Does It Right or any show which renovates a neglected historical building (Yusei also fucking loves cheesy romcoms and will get Kalin to sit down with him for them.)

One genre they’d both probably avoid would be horror. Kalin definitely used to love the genre with his whole heart back before he first died, but after the whole shtick with the Dark Signers, I don’t think he can physically digest it anymore– it brings back too many bad memories, especially when the horror movie in question deals with graphic murder and manslaughter, he can’t help but think of when he almost killed Yusei and laughed about it. (Although most horror movies make Yusei uncomfortable typically as he just doesn’t like seeing people in pain, real or not, he’s nowhere near the levels of distressed that Kalin is.)

And with Ccapac Apu’s spirit still residing in Kalin, I’m sure you can imagine all the nasty thoughts that would arise as a result.

- Are there hobbies or skills you can imagine them wanting to learn other than mechanics and dueling?

Of course!! I briefly mentioned it earlier in the last section, and in some other posts, but my Kalin enjoys cooking and baking! It’s something he learned from his mom, who died when he was fairy young, so it’s definitely something he keeps close to his heart. (Much like cooking, his mom taught him how to dance as well and he ended up teaching Yusei when they were Enforcers, so it’s something they still do! Unfortunately Yusei has a harder time catching onto cooking.)

After seeing his therapist for the first couple of sessions, it was suggested that Kalin should keep a book of some kind to write or draw in about what he’s feeling, so he’s have some sort of outlet. (Yusei was the one to really push the idea.) Kalin took up doodling and drawing as a result, and genuinely enjoys doing it (he’s not that good yet and is still early on in the learning process.)

After dueling and mechanics, Yusei’s hobbies tend to be very quiet. He likes reading and going for drives on his runner that don’t really end up anywhere in particular (he LOVES to travel and explore new places, especially more so since Satellite is reunited with New Domino, so he actually can.) I can definitely see him getting possibly into photography (and taking a ton of pictures of Kalin as a result lol,) and as left field as it is, I can see him getting interested in crocheting and knitting SOLELY so he can make sweaters for their cats and maybe hats for Leo and Luna.

The only “not quiet” hobby I can also see him getting into is probably learning the drums, but that’s deadass me projectin since I’m a drummer with a soft spot for band AU’s.

- What kinds of things do they like and dislike eating?

Yusei, by all means, is not a picky eater at all. He’ll basically shut up and eat whatever is given to him, even if it doesn’t taste good at like, all. It’s a lasting effect of trying to survive in Satellite. I can see him liking either savory foods, or very sweet foods with nothing in between– I don’t think he has a favorite food?

Kalin on the other hand, is a lot pickier with his foods– won’t eat certain kinds of vegetables (I can see him hating beets) or other foods unless it’s cooked a certain way. It works out, because Kalin is the one that does the cooking anyways and ranks Kalin’s food just below Martha’s (Kalin and Martha probably do exchange recipes because I can see Kalin trying to make something Yusei enjoyed as a kid for his birthday or something.) His favorite food is probably homemade ice cream, using canned coconut milk, as it’s something his mom made him a lot when she was alive, since whole milk isn’t readily available and cans are much easier to store.

Coincidentally, as you can probably tell, Yusei and Kalin BOTH have big sweet tooths and agree wholeheartedly that the best time of year is sakura season in April, where everything becomes pink and sweet. Although they try to save their money up, they’ll occasionally splurge and go on a shopping trip to raid anything in the supermarket that’s remotely sweet and/or sugary, which when Crow and Jack were living with the two of them, it would often result in Crow getting angry at Jack and calling him a bad influence.

#anon i hope you know i got really really really unreasonably excited when i saw this in my inbox #I REALLY REALLY REALLY LOVE THE IDEA OF YUSEI AND KALIN HAVIN KIDS ADOPTED OR SURROGATE #also sorry if this is rambly it is 9:06am but ive been up since 3:30am bc my body refused to let me sleep any longer #Anonymous #HEADCANONS:|| Kalin #HEADCANONS:|| Yusei #i love u anon thank u so much!!!!!

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pixelgrotto · 5 years ago

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Schattenjäger Archives

The Gabriel Knight series is something special. I knew it when I played the first one, Sins of the Fathers, nearly 20 years ago and was so entranced by its story of a roguish mystery writer solving a conspiracy of voodoo murders that I was inspired to write a poem based on the game’s themes. (Here it is, dug up from the depths of my old PC for your viewing pleasure. It ain’t bad considering that I wrote it in the 8th grade.) I even considered applying to Tulane University for college so I could be in New Orleans, the site of the first game’s events, and I know from trawling through various message boards and YouTube channels that I’m not the only one who’s been bitten by the bug to see the scenes of Gabriel’s meanderings in person. This is a series of thrillers, with heavily researched plots similar to things that might’ve made The New York Times’ bestseller list back in 1996, and one of the main strengths that differentiated Gabriel Knight from other adventure games of the era - which were largely content with make-believe settings - were the real-world locations, from the most famous city in Louisiana to Bavaria to a tiny vale in France. Each of these locales seemed to come so vibrantly alive, teeming with delicious darkness just waiting to be expunged.

Much of this is due to the effort of series matriarch Jane Jensen, a novelist who just so happened to fall into the adventure game business at Sierra in the 90s. Jane serves as a nice example of a video game creator who’s an actual writer and not just a designer trying to be a writer, and after helping the company produce the best King’s Quest game (KQVI), she won the right to make her own series. Gabriel Knight was the result, and the franchise would go on to span three games, plus a remake, detailing the adventures of the titular schattenjäger, or “shadow hunter,” as he tackles aspects of the supernatural across the world.

I went and played through each game over the past month. (I also read the paperback novelizations that Jane wrote for games one and two - you can read my reviews on Goodreads here and here.) There are some warts, mostly due to your typical silly adventure game puzzles of the 90s that were designed to sell hint books, but by far and large, the writing and characterization that Jane put on display make up for these shortcomings. The first entry, Sins of the Fathers, intertwines a voodoo cult with an exploration of Gabriel’s German heritage and features perhaps the best implementation of Sierra’s classic “icon bar” interface. The second, The Beast Within, is nowadays known as one of the few good FMV titles to emerge from an era where the video game industry was frightfully obsessed with emulating Hollywood, and boasts an intricate plot that somehow manages to tie werewolves into the legends of the “mad” king of Bavaria, Ludwig II. The third and last game in the saga, Blood of the Sacred, Blood of the Damned, is probably the one that’s aged the worse, with frumpy polygonal graphics, an odd interface that’s emblematic of how early 3D games just didn’t know what to do with their cameras, and some truly mind-numbing puzzles - including an infamous one involving cat fur and a mustache that got criticized for “killing” adventure games back in 1999. Nevertheless, it still manages to tell a cool tale of the Knights Templar, the Freemasons, the blood of Jesus Christ and vampires, though the bloodsuckers are admittedly underdeveloped compared to the voodoo practitioners and werewolves of entries one and two.

A Gabriel Knight 4 was never made, and it wasn’t due to the cat mustache puzzle. Adventure games simply fell out of favor at the dawn of the 2000s, and Sierra was eventually sold off and quite depressingly went out of business soon afterwards. Jane Jensen dabbled in the casual games industry for a while before mostly disappearing to work on books until 2014, when she used Kickstarter funds to produce a 20th Anniversary remake of Sins of the Fathers, hoping to summon up enough new interest in the schattenjäger to possibly revive the series for real. Despite solid reviews, the sales numbers of the remake didn’t quite translate into cold, hard cash (an unfortunate phenomenon that’s plagued every Gabriel Knight game, not just the 20th anniversary rehash), and it seems that barring a miracle, a proper GK4 will never materialize. Jane Jensen also appears content to write gay erotica under her pen name of Eli Easton for the time being, since novels about handsome men sexing each other apparently yield more consistent sales numbers. Ah well.

There’s a lot to love in the Gabriel Knight franchise, from the aforementioned historical research that went into each game’s plot, to the Elton John-influenced soundtracks done by Jane’s husband Robert Holmes, to the fact that Gabriel was voiced by frickin’ Tim Curry in Sins of the Fathers and Blood of the Sacred, Blood of the Damned, to the highly likable Grace Nakimura, Gabriel’s Japanese American assistant who provides a foil to her occasionally dickish boss and also serves as one of the earliest and realest examples of a playable woman of color in interactive entertainment. (At one point in the third game, she receives an email from her overly anxious Asian mother about how she needs to get married or go back to graduate school, which is one of the most relatable things I’ve seen in a video game.) Fans of the series would go on to honor these themes in mysterious ways, and Wadjet Eye’s Blackwell games and Kathy Rain are prime examples of titles made by independent creators who were obviously heavily influenced by Jane Jensen’s work. On a slightly different personal level, even I’ve done my part in keeping the spirit alive - the main character I recently created to play in the tabletop Call of Cthulhu roleplaying game is essentially a 1920s version of Gabriel Knight with glasses.

Prior to the release of the Sins of the Fathers remaster, Jane Jensen put out a short story called The Temptation that was eventually turned into an online comic. It details the beginning of a new adventure for Mr. Knight, loosely based off of concepts involving ghosts and witches that Jane was originally going to use for the fourth entry in the series. Gabriel appears more driven than ever in the span of its pages. Even if he never receives another game, the schattenjäger is still out there, keeping watch over Schloss Ritter, prepping for the next macabre mission into the heart of darkness. May he succeed, may he be reunited with Grace, and until that miracle occurs and Gabriel Knight 4 becomes a reality, perhaps this is the best possible way to remember him.

Artwork and screenshots assembled from the promotional materials and respective MobyGames pages for each game. All courtesy of Sierra and Pinkerton Road Studio.

#pixel grotto #favorites #video games #gabriel knight

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noramoya · 5 years ago

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“DON’T STOP TIL YOU’VE HAD ENOUGH : AN ARTICLE ON THE QUINCE JONES MJ TRIBUTE DEBACLE.” – SYL MORTILLA, @WordPress .

“You know how sometimes people get offended on behalf of others? Well, right now, I am seething. Positively livid. Absolutely outraged, and do you know the worst part? I am not even directly affected by what has happened here. It’s not my money involved, but I am truly appalled for you and I guess it could happen to any of us so we should not stand for it. Let me explain.

I was in London recently, deep in the underground rabbit warren, climbing up an escalator the size of Everest. As I ascended the cold metal steps, I noticed out of the corner of my eye, one of many promotional posters for forthcoming shows. Despite keeping my ear to the ground, my finger on the pulse and some say, my head in the clouds, I hadn’t heard of this one.

In fact, I was temporarily bamboozled by it. I had heard some time ago that Quincy Jones would be playing a show at the O2 Arena, but this bore no resemblance to that event.

It was still Quincy, but it contradicted my recollection that it was to be a celebration of the work of the late Michael Jackson.

Originally, this “world exclusive concert” had promised not only “three iconic albums played back to back” but went on to nail its colours to the mast by actually naming them: Off The Wall, Thriller and Bad.

I remember at the time thinking that this would be quite the spectacle, but the ticket prices were utterly exorbitant – well in excess of a hundred pounds a pop.

The new poster was so different that I questioned whether it was even the same event or if I had already missed that one and now this was the follow up show.

I felt like I was in Animal Farm, staring in disbelief at the board previously displaying the motto “four legs good, two legs bad,” adjusted to read “four legs good, two legs better,” leaving me questioning my own memory of the original.

I have since read something that confirms that I hadn’t been imagining things after all and rather than being a feverish cheese dream, the content of the concert HAS been altered to remove all remaining traces of Jackson.

Now, everyone is entitled to their opinion as to whether or not this was the right thing to do in the light of recent allegations (arising from a “documentary”) and I am not here to have that debate.

What I take issue with though is that when you substantially deviate from the original advertised line up that people have paid handsomely to see, they should be entitled to receive a full refund.

What wound me up most was the arrogant stance taken by the promoters. Disgruntled fans have received a response from them explaining: “the show’s content has not changed. Songs from the three Michael Jackson albums will be played, alongside tracks which celebrate era-defining music. Therefore, we are unable to offer refunds.”

Now, let’s just think about this for a second. They’re claiming that it’s the same show as before. I mean, I guess they have got a point – after all, it is still Quincy Jones and seats are every bit as expensive as they were before, but the actual music? Well, that could not be more different.

The show appears to have shrunk in the wash and its colours have run. Now, in its place we have “Soundtrack of The 80s” featuring “iconic songs and defining albums.” I’m genuinely surprised that Sara Cox isn’t billed to host it.

Get your magnifying glass out though and look carefully at the small print at the very bottom of the poster and any fears you may have previously had will be swept aside.

See – it IS EXACTLY the same concert as before. O yea of little faith. Look, there’s all of Jackson’s biggest hits… Rock With You… Man In The Mirror… er, Yah Mo Be There…

I appreciate that there are bigger injustices in the world right now, but the principle of this stinks and the precedent it sets is utterly unacceptable.

This is like professional gaslighting. Maybe the organisers of the event are in a state of traumatised denial after this significant transformation to their show.

The last time a promoter was this cheeky was back when people who had bought seats to see Michael Jackson at his O2 residency for his ill-fated This Is It farewell tour were offered hologrammatic “souvenir” tickets instead of their money back.

When people buy tickets for Glastonbury, they do so without knowing what the line up will be in advance. People know that they are getting on board before the bands are announced and if they aren’t satisfied when the poster is unveiled, they are free to cancel.

Line ups are subject to change all the time, but usually, when someone drops out, the promoters arrange for someone equally impressive to stand in. Sometimes, the replacement is actually better than the act originally scheduled, so it works in the fans’ favour.

Occasionally, issues arise where, for whatever reason, artists are unable to fulfil their original obligation due to their personal situation or circumstances beyond their control.

I was crushed one Summer when Irish girl group B*witched were due to headline a Nineties nostalgia concert, but were sadly unable to make it in time due to problems with their flight. To be fair to them, they offered a full explanation and regular updates throughout the course of the evening by virtue of regular Skype updates. These things happen. C’est la vie.

There is sometimes a disclaimer attached to shows warning in advance of possible alterations. It covers the promoter’s back, acknowledges the reality of the industry and manages fans’ expectations.

I have studied the Quincy poster quite closely under my musical microscope and I don’t see anything anywhere that states: “please note: the advertised content is subject to change at any minute – in fact, it might have already changed beyond recognition by the time you buy tickets. Those who wish to take a complete leap of faith do so entirely at their own risk as even if we move the goal posts so far apart that they end up being in completely different countries, we reserve the right at all times to not only refuse entry but also refunds.”

I am no mathematician, but I am genuinely curious as to how much of the original advertised content of a concert you have to depart from before it can be considered a “change.”

Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that you bought tickets to see The Manic Street Preachers on their current tour, encouraged by the promise that they are going to be playing your favourite album of theirs: This Is My Truth, Tell Me Yours in its entirety. Imagine turning up, feather boa warming your your neck, looking forward to hearing songs from that album, only to be told that instead you are going to be treated to two hours of singer James Dean Bradfield’s side project.

Furious, you rush to the box office for a refund. “Ah,” says the woman behind the counter, “but this is the same concert.” “HOW is it?” you wail. “James will still be playing songs from This Is My Truth,” she says, “alongside era-defining music.”

Faced with no alternative, you return to the show to hear James playing George Benson’s Give Me The Night. “But this isn’t even one of theirs!” you scream, throwing back your head in terror, at which point you see a sign on the ceiling above you that says “NO REFUNDS.”

The addition of extra songs doesn’t make things better, it makes them considerably worse, as it has the effect of diluting the overall quality. It makes it considerably less likely that you will get to hear the songs from those albums that you paid good (Bad?) money to hear.

Maybe before the show, you could go into the O2 branch of Nando’s and order a plate of peri peri chicken, before tucking into it and immediately realising that something is wrong. Rather than your spice of choice, it has an altogether milder, tamer flavour, like someone has seasoned it with lemon and herb. It doesn’t even look or taste like chicken. Closer inspection reveals it to be pigeon!

Incensed, you storm up to the counter and demand your money back. “I’m sorry, Sir,” says the Manager, “but there are no refunds because that is the same meal as the one you ordered.” Then they chuck out a corn on the cob and throw some spicy rice in your face in an effort to placate you with era-defining side dishes.

Where exactly will this madness end? If you go to a tailor and after getting measured up and paying for a brand new suit, he then proceeds to lop the legs off the trousers and stitch a floral pattern into the lapel, can he still expect you to be happy with that?

We live in a time where people are expected to pay for the privilege of printing off their own tickets at home, and don’t even get me started on the fulfilment fees – exactly who or what are these fulfilling other than corporate pockets?!

Fans increasingly find themselves forfeiting booking fees, administration charges and the like when concerts are cancelled by the promoter. These would appear to be regarded by them as little more than curiosity taxes.

It’s all very caveat emptor – buyer beware – if you have gone to the trouble and expense of organising transport and arranging accommodation to see a show which is then pulled, well, then, that’s your problem.

By all means, go ahead and adjust the content of a concert – you’re the promoter, it’s your show, you can do whatever you like, but if you do, don’t hoodwink ticket holders into thinking that nothing has changed. Don’t flummox your customers. If they aren’t happy with the alterations you’ve made, they should be entitled to receive a full refund as the show they bought tickets to see is no longer the one that will be staged.

Believe it or not, this piece originally started out as an advertisement for the forthcoming Quincy Jones concert in which I heaped praise on the promoters for their courageous actions and argued that the concert remains fundamentally unchanged. They cannot take issue with any aspect of the final version because this is exactly the same article as before…alongside era-defining sarcasm. “

-Written by Andrew Timms .

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eegyo · 3 years ago

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BRACE YOURESELVES BITCHACHOS -

CAUSE HERE COME ANOTHER BOOK REVIEW THAT NOBODY ASKED FOR - BUT IM DISHING OUT ANYWAYS 😘

Book Rec #2:

Deeper than the Dead by Tami Hoag

Rating: 9.7/10

Age recommended: ages 18+

WARNING: Book contains coarse language, mentions of sexual assault/violence, suicide, graphic descriptions of blood and violence, depictions of physical & mental abuse & sexual content (a.k.a smut)

Summary: Set in the ever exciting state of California 1985, 4 children and their young 5th grade teacher, Anne Navarre, discover the body of a woman in a shallow grave - with her eyes and mouth glued shut 👁👄👁.

All evidence pointing to a coldblooded serial killer living amongst the citizens - the once picturesque town of Oak Knoll is thrown into a frenzy of deception and paranoia. Where the stench of death and fear slowly chokes the residents of the small community.

Now in comes top FBI investigator Vince Leon (I pictured him to look like Jonn Hamm lol). Instituting the new (for its time) and controversial technique of “profiling”, Leon finds himself thrust into the private and much darker worlds of the locals - proving that things aren’t always as they seem. And that danger is often a lot closer to home than one would think.

My thoughts:

K first off, I loved it. A LOT-a-bit of death and gore☠️🔪 (not in a weird way), a generous amount of mystery and mind-games, a solid helping of your standard thrills, a dash of romance (and sex 😏🥵if you’re into that sort of thing lol), and A delicate dusting of single-tear-worthy moments (at least I cried) lol 🥲

Hoag had me thinking the entire time. Almost goading me to play detective. 🕵️‍♀️I felt like I had it all figured out and kept convincing myself that I did but always second guessed my conclusions after every single chapter. 🤔Which is what you want from a mystery/crime/thriller novel right?!

EASY READ (Mostly bc it’s addicting but also because it’s one of those smaller more compacts books) I burned through this motherf*cker like it was nobody’s business 🏃🏻‍♀️💨 and I loved every second of it! It truly was hard to put down! I mean obviously you’ll have those occasional throw away scenes, but Hoag almost makes you feel like if you skip one part you may be skipping the most imperative clue to cracking who the killer is. 🥸

This bitch is dramatic as f*ck 🤯 (I’m talking about the book fyi). If I had to describe the story in one word I’d either use avalanche or total clusterf*ck, there’s really no other way to describe it 🤷‍♀️🤦‍♀️!

I really can’t say anything bad about it (I ain’t no English professor or literary disciple), like am I a fan of EVERYTHING about the book? Almost, but not quite. Had a bit of trouble keeping up trying to envision life in the 80s, kept picturing late 60’s America lol. And obviously I don’t want to spoil anything but some outcomes I wanted just didn’t happen, but hey c’est la vie 👩‍🎨.

Overall, loved it and am so so sooooooo glad I bought it!! I only really bought it because it was part of a 2 for 12$ deal and it looked the least clichéd - and lo and behold, it’s now my FAVORITE book!

Cheers Tami Hoag, you got the next blockbuster on your hands🥂✨⭐️🤩

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aion-rsa · 3 years ago

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Can No Time to Die Break the Final James Bond Movie Curse?

https://www.denofgeek.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/for-your-eyes-only-bond-fires.png?resize=400%2C400

Daniel Craig’s tenure as James Bond is coming to an end. This truth has been known ever since it was announced that Craig would reprise the role in No Time to Die, his fifth outing as 007. And yet, given the litany of delays that movie has endured largely due to the pandemic—remember when No Time to Die was slated for November 2019?—the reality of his leaving feels like it’s been almost taken for granted.

The curtain really is coming down this month for UK fans, and the No Time to Die marketing team is now making folks aware of that again with the recent viral clip of Craig’s teary eyed farewell speech from the day production wrapped on the Bond movie. After wearing Bond’s tuxedo for 15 years, Craig closes the book on a run that’s lasted longer than any other Bond actor’s, and with almost as many films as any thespian who’s ever called themselves James Bond. (Sean Connery still has six canonical James Bond movies under his belt, and Roger Moore holds the record with seven.)

So now that the movie is truly here, it’s worth wondering one of the quiet bits out loud: Will Craig do something almost no other Bond actor has done to date and finish his run on a high note? Because when you sit down and think about it, nearly every actor who’s ordered a shaken martini before him has signed off with the worst Bond movie of their tenure.

There are exceptions, of course: George Lazenby only played 007 once, and in a good movie too. But if one wanted to be glib, they could say On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969) was then both his best and worst Bond entry. Beyond Lazenby’s solitary adventure, however, each Bond actor has ended on a sour note, which puts all the more pressure on No Time to Die to buck this trend…

Sean Connery Goes Bust in Diamonds Are Forever

This phenomenon began with the first and (in this writer’s opinion) best actor to ever purr, “The name’s Bond, James Bond.” As the man who helped invent much of the iconography we associate with the 007 character—imprinting a boyish insolence and brutal physicality to the role that author Ian Fleming arguably did not intend—Sean Connery played Bond in the character’s heyday. And unlike every actor who would follow (again excluding Lazenby), Connery got to enjoy the role at a time when Bond didn’t feel out of step with the zeitgeist and didn’t need to justify his existence. During the glory years of Bondmania, Connery and the producers were shaping pop culture instead of responding to it.

Yet that wasn’t quite true for the last time Connery put on the hairpiece. His initial run in the role included five back-to-back franchise classics in Dr. No (1962), From Russia With Love (1963), Goldfinger (1964), Thunderball (1965), and You Only Live Twice (1967). Admittedly, the first three of those movies have aged far better in the last 60 years than the final two, but all were well received in their moment and helped make an actor Fleming once described as “a ditch digger” into a global superstar who’d eventually be knighted by Her Majesty. Still, after five template-setting adventures, Connery was done—his frustrations over how he was paid for the movies didn’t help.

If Connery had ended his run with You Only Live Twice, his tenure would be seen as glittering as Goldfinger’s house paint. However, after Lazenby elected not to come back for a second outing as 007, and after On Her Majesty’s Secret Service closed out the 1960s as the lowest grossing Bond movie since Connery’s first two installments, producers Cubby Broccoli and Harry Saltzman shipped a small fortune Connery’s way to convince him to return for Diamonds are Forever (1971), which I would charitably suggest is the worst Bond movie ever made.

To be sure, there are flashier targets that could hold that title, many of which do not include actors as generally beloved in the role as Connery. But Diamonds Are Forever featured a tired and bored looking performance from Connery, as well as a script and direction that retreated from the tragic cliffhanger ending of On Her Majesty’s Secret Service in favor of something far more generic. Essentially a reworking of Connery’s previously most outrageous Bond films, Goldfinger and You Only Live Twice, Diamonds Are Forever ups the camp factor as Bond again battles SPECTRE mastermind Blofeld (now played at his worst by Charles Gray). There’s some harebrained plot in which Blofeld is using South African diamonds to power a satellite’s laser that will lead to him holding the world’s nuclear arsenals hostage.

But really it’s just an excuse for Bond to go through the motions as he travels around Las Vegas and the larger American southwest. It then ends Connery’s run by letting 007 have a laugh as Blofeld, ostensibly the man who killed Bond’s wife (though she’s never mentioned in this film), gets away. James then kills two henchmen coded as gay with maximum homophobia while enjoying a cruise. It’s a film that already had one foot in the land of Austin Powers parody.

Technically, Connery would play Bond one more time in the non-Eon produced remake of Thunderball, Never Say Never Again (1983), but that’s not exactly a classic either…

Roger Moore’s Tired View to a Kill

There’s a lot that can be said about Roger Moore’s final 007 adventure, A View to a Kill (1985), but anything positive comes almost exclusively from the absolute banging Duran Duran song. That plus the movie’s less flattering qualities which appeal to connoisseurs of bad movie kitsch. Yes, Christopher Walken really does look high as a kite as he plays ‘80s yuppie supervillain Max Zorin, and Grace Jones as henchwoman May Day appears as though she’ll snap Moore in half.

But therein lies one of the film’s many problems: By the time Moore got to his seventh Bond movie, the actor was pushing 60 and looked it. By his own admission, he realized he stayed with the role too long when he met the mother of his leading lady, Tanya Roberts, and discovered she was younger than him. But the geriatric quality of Moore here is just one of a cacophony of woes, which when combined suggested that the series had become long in the tooth.

At his height of popularity, Moore had perfected his jovial gentleman charm offensives, playing a spy more inclined to disarm a situation with a well-placed punchline than a punch. This is exhibited in Moore’s best Bond adventure, The Spy Who Loved Me (1977), a classic that plays as much like a romantic comedy as a typical 007 flick… even with the fate of the world hanging in the balance as a megalomaniac attempts to nuke the planet.

Movies

For Your Eyes Only Was Not Supposed to Star Roger Moore

By Don Kaye

Movies

Casino Royale and GoldenEye Director on What’s Next for James Bond

By Don Kaye

After that high bar though, much of the Moore era chased the campy thrills of that movie to far lesser results. The one exception is For Your Eyes Only (1981), an underrated gem in the series which for the most part resembles a genuine Cold War adventure with the occasional concession to Bond formulae. Following that picture, Moore considered hanging up the Walther PPK, but was persuaded to come back for Octopussy (1983) and then A View to a Kill.

It is arguable Moore made worse Bond movies than AVTAK. For sheer camp spectacle, nothing outdoes the outrageousness of Moonraker (1979), and we’d argue Octopussy is one of the more forgettable Bond movies ever made. Yet it is the haggard, over-the-hill quality which makes A View to a Kill come off as faintly desperate, and a little bit sad as the franchise again dregs up the plot of Goldfinger and attempts to redress it with a limited Hollywood understanding of 1980s Silicon Valley, plus more violence and sex. It seemed dated even in ’85. If the Bond franchise is a series of peaks and valleys, Moore ended his run close to sea level.

Timothy Dalton Goes After Scarface in License to Kill

Timothy Dalton is the Bond actor that time has been kindest too. While his aggressive and perpetually angry version of the character was somewhat rejected by late ‘80s audiences who still had Moore’s interpretation fresh in mind—plus the media fiasco of Pierce Brosnan being cast as Bond and then forced to drop out—Dalton’s popularity has grown among diehard fans who enjoyed his underplayed bluntness. It’s an interpretation that looks ahead of its time, too, given the eventual popularity of Craig’s take on the role.

All that being said, I would argue Dalton never starred in a great Bond movie. His first outing, The Living Daylights (1987), has its moments and is another one of the rare Bond films that feels like an actual espionage thriller, even as it lacks the tension of From Russia With Love or the charm and terrific climax of For Your Eyes Only. It was then followed up by License to Kill (1989), a Bond picture that in spite of online chatter to the contrary is not some lost hidden gem.

In truth, License to Kill is one of those middling type of Bond movies that jump on the pop culture bandwagons of their day. In the era of Moore, that meant some uncomfortably tone deaf riffs on Blaxploitation in Live and Let Die (1973) and aping Star Wars in Moonraker. With License to Kill, it meant Bond imitating popular television series Miami Vice and some of the harder edged action movies and crime thrillers of the 1980s, particularly Lethal Weapon (1987) and Scarface (1983). The problem, however, is that License to Kill is still a Bond movie produced by Cubby Broccoli, who’d been with the series since the beginning, and directed by John Glen, who’d helmed the last four Bond movies, including A View to a Kill.

Whereas the R-rated violence and traumatic cynicism of Richard Donner’s Lethal Weapon felt startlingly edgy in the ‘80s, License to Kill looks a bit like the aging hipster who’s still trying to fit in at the nightclub. And seeing Bond go on a vendetta against a South American drug dealer right out of the Tony Montana playbook looked neutered when compared to the actual Tony Montana. Which is a shame, as Bond out on a personal mission of revenge seems like an appealing narrative prompt that the Bond franchise has never quite gotten right. Diamonds Are Forever ignored Bond’s need for retribution following the death of his wife Tracy in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, and Craig’s later rampage movie, Quantum of Solace (2008), squandered the potential left by Casino Royale’s tragic ending two years earlier. Instead Quantum also became distracted by the conventions of its decade, in this case by copying the Jason Bourne movies.

So we see Dalton’s grumpy 007 given a reason to really pout after Felix Leiter has his legs fed to sharks on his wedding night, and Bond then finds the bride murdered the next morning. It’s a grisly but potent setup. Hence the disappointment when you realize the most memorable thing about its third act is the bizarre cameo by Wayne Newton as an evil televangelist.

Pierce Brosnan’s Run Needed to Die Another Day

Probably the most notorious final Bond film is Pierce Brosnan’s swan song in Die Another Day (2002). Given the mostly deserved vitriol that movie now receives, it’s hard to remember it was the most successful Bond film ever when it came out (when left unadjusted for inflation). Big and gaudy, the critics mostly accepted it, and it was no deal breaker for Quentin Tarantino who dreamed of working with Brosnan as Bond afterward in a ‘60s-set Casino Royale movie that never materialized.

Of course after the post-40th anniversary haze faded away, fans were left with a pretty lousy flick, which looks all the stranger when you remember the first act is actually pretty solid. The movie starts with Bond double crossed and left to spend 18 months in a prisoner camp in North Korea. In this way, it was the first Bond movie to incorporate the opening title sequence into its narrative, with the naked silhouettes of women being delirious visions Bond has while being tortured. His subsequent escape as a shaggy caveman into Hong Kong high society and then doing Connery-esque low-fi spy work in Cuba is also energetic, frothy fun.

Few folks recall any of this though because the film nosedives into the realm of the wretched and the damned at about the halfway mark. Inexplicably, director Lee Tamahori and the producers decided to celebrate Bond’s 40th by emulating the worst excesses of the Moore years, and even the banality of Diamonds Are Forever’s plot with diamonds and space lasers. It’s just as bad the second time around, but in Die Another Day’s case this also means invisible cars and terrible early 2000s CGI effects as a cartoon version of Brosnan surfs on glaciers and digital waves.

It’s bad, and it undermines Brosnan’s overall tenure. While Brosnan only starred in one great Bond movie, GoldenEye (1995), we’d argue both Tomorrow Never Dies (1997) and The World Is Not Enough (1999) are pretty good. The former has aged like wine with its evil news baron that’s obviously a caricature of Rupert Murdoch. To better launch his cable news network, the fiend even manufactures a global crisis that risks lives. Huh. The World Is Not Enough, meanwhile, has one of the best pre-titles action sequences in the whole franchise and one of its best villains. In fact, Sophie Marceau’s Elektra King remains the only female lead who’s also the main vaillain.

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Together, all three form a solid enough trilogy in which Brosnan plays a Bond forced to find his place in the changing, destabilized world of the 1990s. The Cold War is over, and the World on Terror is yet to come. In this strange, supposed “end of history” moment, Brosnan’s Bond spent three movies renegotiating the character’s place in a world of upheaval, oblivious to the horrors to come. So Bond faces the threats borne out of a destabilized eastern European bloc, and misleading mass media forces shaping the world for the worst, all of which now looks like prophecy.

While we wish Brosnan had a better fourth film to hang his hat on than Die Another Day, if he’d simply stopped at three, his little ‘90s-specific trilogy would look a lot better.

Can No Time to Die Break the Pattern?

In the end, we won’t know the answer to the above question until we see the movie, however there are many reasons to be hopeful. Unlike three of the four movies at the center of this article, No Time to Die is not a Bond film from a franchise veteran director, who might be happy to go through the usual paces. In fact, one of the most appealing things about Craig’s whole tenure in 007 is how much more willing producers Barbara Broccoli and Michael G. Wilson are to take risks.

After Sam Mendes helmed the one-two punch of Skyfall (2012) and Spectre (2015), to admittedly uneven results, Eon Productions is doubling down on auteur talent by tapping Cary Joji Fukunaga to direct Craig’s final Bond movie. A sometimes overlooked visualist, Fukunaga has style to spare in films like Jane Eyre (2011) and Beasts of No Nation (2015). But even more than his cinematic output, his standing as one of the first filmmakers to prove television can truly be a director’s medium in the first season of True Detective and Netflix’s Maniac suggests he can bring a renewed hunger to making a classic Bond epic that stands apart. The various No Time to Die trailers all seem to suggest this will be one of the chicest looking Bond movies to date.

Additionally, the film benefits from being the grand finale of Craig’s oeuvre. As really the first actor to have an evolving and complex continuity throughout his installments in the franchise, Craig has taken 007 on an emotional journey across the previous four movies. The quality of the films might vary, but Craig’s through-line has been consistently strong, and with No Time to Die the performer and filmmakers know they need to stick a landing that says something resounding about this version of the character. And lastly, the cast for this movie, from returning faces like Ralph Fiennes, Jeffrey Wright, and Léa Seydoux, to new ones, such as Lashana Lynch, Ana de Armas, and Rami Malek as a mysterious villain named Safin, suggests this might very well be the best ensemble ever brought together for a Bond movie.

So here’s to hoping Craig can beat the curse and shake things up one more time.

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qualkoesuce-blog · 6 years ago

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Internet dating novels

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ismael37olson · 6 years ago

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A Potent, Little Metaphor

In the late 1980s, I wrote a musical called Attempting the Absurd, about a young man who has figured out he's only a character in a musical and doesn't actually exist, and that knowledge causes him lots of grief. Ultimately, he wins the day by producing the script for Attempting the Absurd. I recently published the script and vocal selections for the show on Amazon, and I described the show as "meta before meta was cool." But you know who did meta way before any of us? Gilbert and Sullivan. Their operettas frequently referred to themselves and occasionally to each other, and more than that, half their agenda was mocking the conventions of opera, as they used them. Since we did our public reading of The Zombies of Penzance in January, I've been reading books about Gilbert & Sullivan, and seeking out videos of their shows (I highly recommend anything from Opera Australia). I had seen some of their shows, but I'm discovering the others now as well.

And what I realize is that half the G&S agenda is mocking polite society, politics, and human nature; and the other half is writing operas that mock opera. Gilbert's lyrics mock opera (with wildly inverted sentences, overblown imagery), Sullivan's music mocks opera (the repetition, the bombast, the self-indulgence, and once in a while, forty notes to one syllable), and the two of them together mock opera's seriousness, it's pomposity, its faux exoticism. Gilbert and Sullivan "broke" old-fashioned opera. They laid bare the silly conventions and cliches by both using and abusing them all at the same time. In term's of today's musical theatre, we might call G&S shows neo musical comedies, in the language of opera. In fact, I think that's what I called Jerry Springer the Opera when we produced it. Writing The Zombies of Penzance was technically very hard for me, but it wasn't hard conceptually. I get G&S and I've been in love with The Pirates of Penzance since I saw Kevin Kline do it on Broadway in the early 1980s -- just a few years before I started writing Attempting the Absurd, now that I think about it. It was enormously fun getting into Gilbert's voice with this show. Writing the dialogue in his voice was a breeze, but writing lyrics in his style is insanely difficult. Here's one of my favorite moments of dialogue:

FREDERIC: Oh, would that you could render this extermination unnecessary by accompanying me back to civilization! No doubt the doctors and scientists have by now concocted an antidote, or failing that, they could cut all your heads off with a clean, sharp knife. KING: No, Frederic, no, no, no, that cannot be. I don’t think much of this tedious, soulless, shadow life we endure, but contrasted with the forty-hour work week, it is comparatively fulfilling. No, Frederic, I shall live and die – and then live again and likely die again – a Zombie King!

But Gilbert wrote some incredibly complex rhymes, and I'm pretty sure I kept every rhyme scheme he set up, interior rhymes and all. This is my rewrite of "Climbing Over Rocky Mountain."

We’re Christian girls on a Christian outing, No bad words and please, no shouting, Far away from male temptation carnal, Where our nethers never quiver, By the ever-throbbing river, Swollen where the summer rain Comes gushing forth; Gushing forth in spurts and sputters Sloshing through the roads and gutters, Pounding through the virgin hills below us. Scaling rough and rugged passes, Working out our shapely asses, There are greater joys, we know, in purity! Fit and healthy virgin lasses, Keeping pure our virgin asses, There are greater joys, we know…!

The one exception to my fidelity is in "Modern Era Zombie Killer," where I added one syllable to the title phrase though it still scans to the music correctly.

I am the very model of a modern-era zombie killer, I can cut off heads and yet be gentle as a caterpillar. Since the early days when the initial virus circulated, When you think of me, you think of walking dead decapitated. I’m very well acquainted, too, with matters metaphysical, I understand the issues, both the obvious and quizzical. If I could slaughter zombies, I would cross the River Styx for them. I’ve seen Romero’s movies and I’ve memorized all six of them! I like to make them suffer but I don’t think they can feel a lot; Decapitation’s fun, I know, but zombies really squeal a lot! In short, I can be fearsome or be gentle as a caterpillar; I hereby present myself, a modern-era zombie killer.

But I don't think I changed anything else (other than making it into a zombie story). Despite the wacky origin story, I want Zombies to be as authentic a G&S show as this fanboy can make it. But now as we're blocking the show, I realize, this is a really different kind of performance for the actors. There are so many songs and sections of songs in which the characters turn to the audience and explain the situation, their opinion of it, what they want, etc. Sometimes at great length. For musical theatre actors, that's so unnatural, to just stand and explain.

But as I think about it, I realize that's exactly what Threepenny does. Next to Normal does it a lot, also Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson, High Fidelity, and so many other shows. Even Sweet Smell of Success, which we produced last season. In these shows, the actor has to be both (or alternately) inside the scene and outside the scene -- but still the character either way -- both narrating and living through the moment, both in the place and time of the story, but also aware of and talking to the audience. That's a hell of a tightrope. Also, like the original G&S show, we have a small stage and a relatively big cast, so staging is limited when everybody's onstage -- which is the last 10-15 minutes of both acts. I know being so physically static onstage for such a long time also feels weird to the actors. But having seen a lot of G&S shows now, they really do work this way. The music and text are so funny, and the plot is so insane, that the audience doesn't get bored in the least. The audience needs time to focus just on the words.

In fact, G&S shows usually follow a rule I learned from Hal Prince -- the more complex the content, the less active the scene should be physically. Think of brilliant musical theatre moments like "Being Alive," "The Ladies Who Lunch," "I'm Still Here," "Rose's Turn"... there's not a lot of movement, because there's so much going on emotionally, narratively, thematically. If we make the audience choose between visuals and content, they'll choose visuals. Humans are visual creatures. We have to make them choose content sometimes -- well, often in a G&S show. So our actors have all kinds of obstacles thrown at them this time. To find that neo musical comedy style, exaggerated, highly stylized, but still really honest -- that's not always easy (especially when you're playing an unusually high-functioning zombie). To find that reality that contains both the crazy inside world of our story and also our performance and audience. To get comfortable in the slow telescoping time of opera, even slower than musical theatre time. The scripts for musicals are much shorter than scripts for plays, because it takes longer to sing words than to speak them, because music operates on a different kind of time, a slower time. In musical theatre, actors learn to live inside those extended moments of time, fully alive but staying in that moment, that emotion, that reaction. Opera slows time down even more, because the music is even less in constant service of the storytelling. And Gilbert and Sullivan sometimes slow time down opera time even more than that, to mock the repetition and narrative pace of opera. Mabel's first entrance in Pirates/Zombies is one example. So are both act finales. So the challenge for our actors is to create an interesting performance not in physical zombie shtick as much as in character, reaction, backstory, social context, and our wonderfully absurd set of circumstances. The idea of zombies eating, then marrying these girls has to seem to be a Very Serious Matter Altogether. 'Cause really, are marriage-friendly zombies any more ridiculous than man-eating flytraps? The secret to Little Shop is for the actors to take it totally seriously, to believe that Audrey II is a genuine threat. The material takes care of the funny. It's the same for us. But our guys are playing zombies, after all. They have to be recognizably zombies. Zombies who sing operetta, including patter songs. Even though they can't walk very well. Because, did I mention, they're zombies.

All this reminds me of a great, weird show we produced called Bukowsical. The central joke of the show is that it tells the dark, ugly, cynical life story of the brilliant American writer Charles Bukowski, but in the most inappropriate form possible, a cheery, colorful, upbeat musical comedy. And that's essentially what The Zombies of Penzance is. It's a horror story told in the most inappropriate form possible, a bouncy, dry-humoured British comic opera. And that wrongness, the frequent self-reference, the mismatch of form and content, and the constant violations of period (even though we're pretending this was written in 1878) are all part of the meta joke.

My zombie hunting habits, though a potent, little metaphor, Are really more subversive than the critics give me credit for. In nineteenth cent’ry operetta, comedy or thriller, I am still the very model of a modern-era zombie killer!

We're telling the audience Gilbert and Sullivan wrote Zombies in 1878, but as you watch the show, we're constantly reminding you that Gilbert couldn't have possibly written these references to movies, to George Romero, to Pepto Bismal or the Aqua Teen Hunger Force, and he certainly never would have used the word fuck, which our show does a few times.

The fact that I rewrote Pirates as Zombies, and then concocted a ridiculously meta origin story, means it's a meta meta musical. It was already self-aware as Pirates, but now The Zombies of Penzance carries with it, every second, an awareness of Pirates, and for people who know Pirates well, there's even more fun to be had there, in how close to the original my "translation" often is. Meanwhile, our actors will find their way. They always do. We often do shows that are just so weird or so unique in their particular rules that it takes the actors a while to figure out how it all ticks and how they fit into that clockwork. Luckily, they all trust me, so I just keep moving forward and they keep lumbering along beside me. So much fun ahead. The adventure continues. Long Live the Musical! Scott from The Bad Boy of Musical Theatre http://newlinetheatre.blogspot.com/2018/08/a-potent-little-metaphor.html

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mysteryshelf · 7 years ago

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AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT - Tracee de Hahn

Welcome to

THE PULP AND MYSTERY SHELF!

DISCLAIMER: This content has been provided to THE PULP AND MYSTERY SHELF by Partners in Crime Book Tours. No compensation was received. This information required by the Federal Trade Commission.

Author Bio:

Tracee de Hahn is author of the Agnes Lüthi mysteries, which were inspired by her years living in Switzerland. Prior to writing full time she practiced architecture and was head of university alumni relations at a major west coast university. Born in Cape Girardeau, Missouri, Tracee lived most of her life in Kentucky. She is a member of Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime and International Thriller Writers. Currently she and her husband live in southwest Virginia with their Jack Russell Terriers.

Catch Up With Our Author On traceedehahn.com, Goodreads: Tracee de Hahn, Twitter: @LuthiMysteries, & Facebook: TraceedeHahnWriter!

Find out about Tracee’s latest book

A Well-Timed Murder

on Tour March 1-31, 2018

About the Book:

“A true page turner…I found the plot fascinating, and de Hahn builds the tension and suspense perfectly to a satisfying conclusion. I was left wanting to read more about Agnes, and I am looking forward to her next adventure “– Charles Todd on Swiss Vendetta

Swiss-American police officer Agnes Lüthi is on leave in Lausanne, Switzerland, recovering from injuries she sustained in her last case, when an old colleague invites her to the world’s premier watch and jewelry trade show at the grand Messe Basel Exhibition Hall. Little does Agnes know, another friend of hers, Julien Vallotton, is at the same trade show—and he’s looking for Agnes. Julien Vallotton was friends with Guy Chavanon, a master of one of Switzerland’s oldest arts: watchmaking. Chavanon died a week ago, and his daughter doesn’t believe his death was accidental. Shortly before he died, Chavanon boasted that he’d discovered a new technique that would revolutionize the watchmaking industry, and she believes he may have been killed for it. Reluctantly, Agnes agrees to investigate his death. But the world of Swiss watchmaking is guarded and secretive, and before she realizes it, Agnes may be walking straight into the path of a killer.

Tracee de Hahn’s mystery, A Well-Timed Murder, is another magnetic mystery that will engross readers from the opening page to the stunning conclusion.

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery Published by: St. Martin’s / Minotaur Publication Date: February 6th 2018 Number of Pages: 340 ISBN: 1250110017 (ISBN13: 9781250110015) Series: Agnes Luthi Mysteries #2 Click these links to see A Well-Timed Murder on: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Indiebound | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

There was a crowd but none of them mattered. Agnes Lüthi had eyes for only one man, the one she’d nicknamed the Roach. The one she’d only dreamt of finding in Switzerland.

She moved quickly despite her injured leg, focused on her destination, closing her umbrella when she reached the high canopy. A chain of busses discharged passengers in front of the Messe Basel Exhibition Halles, and they flowed past her toward the doors as if the world’s premier watch and jewelry show might sell out of goods if they dallied. She had never before been to Baselworld, but from the look of the well-dressed crowd judged it was a fitting place to find this particular man.

She was within grasping distance of a door handle when Marcel Aubry appeared from behind a kiosk. He was cloaked in a long, belted raincoat and had a finger pressed to his ear, listening. Before she could speak, he grasped her wrist with his free hand, and pulled her behind the advertising stand, out of sight of the glass front of the lobby.

“Slight change of plan,” Aubry said, his voice low and hurried. “The Roach is headed this way.” He frowned, listening to the voices in his earpiece.

Agnes moved closer to Aubry; it felt like stepping into a shadow. He was a big man, not exactly fat, but big enough to make her feel slim. She could hear the scratch of a voice broadcast from his earpiece, but not the words. Her pulse quickened. They’d worked together for years in financial crimes. Despite that, she’d never seen him run a field operation. This was an important arrest for him, one he’d not leave to others. She was thrilled to be included.

“Did you ever think you’d see us catch him?” Aubry said to her, still focused on the chatter in his ear. “No, and I don’t believe it yet today.” She’d had the Roach in her grasp three times, only to have him scurry back into a crack at the last moment. All of Europe and half of Asia was looking for him. In addition to Swiss francs, he’d stolen millions of euros, yen, dollars, and pounds—all electronically. Despite his methods, she’d always believed that he occasionally appeared in person at a place he’d targeted. Now it looked as if her suspicions were proving true.

“This time he’s definitely here,” said Aubry. “Problem is, the place is littered with exits and there’s a record crowd. Feels like half the world’s come to Baselworld. Good for the economy, bad for us, since on-site security doesn’t want a fuss disturbing their clientele.” He nodded. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re here to see it.”

“I was nearby when you called. I left my mother-in-law at the Beyeler Museum like a bride at the altar. She may not forgive me.” Agnes watched the crowd stream into the building, oblivious of the police operation. Aubry had orchestrated a smooth intervention despite having to move quickly.

“Your call was the best news I’ve had in weeks,” she added. “A few days ago one of my kids accused me of missing the criminals.”

Vincent – her oldest – had phrased it more bluntly: that she liked spending time with the bad guys more than with them. Before she could protest, her youngest son had added that at least she wasn’t a criminal herself. They’d all laughed. It was true, she did miss work. Surely that wasn’t a bad message for the boys? Their father had had a strong work ethic.

Aubry pulled his wrist up and spoke into a microphone, asking a question. He looked at her. “When are you officially back on the job?”

“Three days. Monday.” She gave her wool jacket a downward tug and straightened the matching skirt. Her stint in hospital had melted a few kilos away. Nearly being killed wasn’t the easiest diet, but it was no doubt effective. A few more kilos and she would consider thanking the man who had knifed her.

Aubry held up his hand, listening to chatter in his earpiece. “Any minute now,” he whispered, as if they could be overheard. “He’s heading to the lobby. It’s perfect. Fewer civilians and more space gives us an advantage.”

“He’ll run.” Agnes shifted weight off her bad leg. Critically, she eyed the long bank of doors. The building’s sleek overhang soared across the street, sheltering trams, taxis, a restaurant, and a flower stall. She hoped Aubry really did have all exits covered. She had a vague notion that the five or six halls of the Messe Basel facility were connected by upper corridors and enclosed walkways. It was a large complex.

Aubry tapped his thigh impatiently. His gaze strayed to her leg. “How’s life in violent crimes?”

A voice sputtered in his ear and Aubry listened, sparing her the need to answer. “He’s on the move,” Aubry said quietly.

Agnes tensed.

“Now,” Aubry shouted, running to the doors and yanking one open.

Two men in suits moved from another angle and Agnes spotted their earpieces. The men broke into a half run, and a few bystanders gasped while others pulled out mobile phones set to record video. The officers pushed ahead toward the turnstiles leading to the show, and Agnes followed. Aubry put a hand to his earpiece and stopped her. He angled his head down and she could hear voices talking on top of one another. Someone yelled and Aubry flinched.

Suddenly, in the distance, car tires screeched. There was a loud thump and a scream, followed seconds later by other shouts. Agnes turned toward the noise and Aubry followed. They ran to the right side of the building, ignoring the drizzle. The side street was closed to all but exhibitors’ vehicles and Agnes pushed her way through the gathered crowd. What she saw stopped her in her tracks. Aubry, close behind, collided with her.

The street was dedicated to instruments of luxury and speed, and in the middle of the road a gleaming red Ferrari had struck a man. He lay in a shallow pool of rainwater a meter from the front bumper. Both car and man were broken. The hood of the car was dented and smeared with blood. The man’s leg was angled midcalf, and the fabric of his pants was split by a bone. Blood spilled from the back of his head, pooling around his hair, missing with rain and running in rivulets to the curb. Agnes recognized the man immediately. She put a hand to her mouth. A second glance at the unique shape of his ears confirmed it: the Roach.

***

Tour Participants:

Giveaway:

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Tracee de Hahn. There will be 1 winner of one (1) Amazon.com gift Card. The giveaway begins on March 1 and runs through April 1, 2018.

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AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT – Tracee de Hahn was originally published on the Wordpress version of The Pulp and Mystery Shelf with Shannon Muir

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jenmedsbookreviews · 7 years ago

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So this is the blog post that isn’t meant to happen but I had a couple of hours in between events so here we are. What a week this has been, what a rare mood I’m in. Why it’s almost like being … contented I think is the word. After an all to brief round trip to Dublin on Monday to deliver a bit of training, I have finished off my week up in Dundee and Aberdeen combining necessary annual work trips with a touch of blogger heaven a.k.a. Granite Noir.Now I may at some stage regale you all with my tales of what I did and saw but then again I may not. I attended many panels (well a few) spoke to and hugged many authors (well a few) and got some signed books (less than a few). The panels I attended were fabulous and the authors and speakers highly engaging and entertaining including Thomas Enger, Mari Hannah, Sarah Ward, Val McDermid, Karen Sullivan, MJ Arlidge Stefan Ahnhem, Craig Sisterson, Johana Gustawsson, Clare Carson, James Oswald and Will Dean. I also attended a workshop on creating compelling characters with Melanie McGrath which was really informative and made you think about the importance of clarity and coherence in character. The weekend has been, in a word, awesome.

The weekend was made ever more special by my getting to spend time with some truly fabulous people, namely Alison Baillie, Sharon Bairden, and Mary Picken and to meet Claire MacLeary and Kate Noble. Yes … I finally got to meet The (Not So) Quiet Knitter. She is sooooo lovely (if a little shy) and actually very chatty.

As I write this I have two more events left, Words and Music with Thomas Enger and Noir at the Bar. I am looking forward to both of them but hoping I don’t have too late a night as I am due up at 05:00 to be in Portlethen by around 06:15. Then it is the small matter of the 8+ hour drive home with a small diversion to Airdrie. I am so lucky. Actually I am but don’t tell work that. They may think I want to be there …

The best news of the evening – Granite Noir will be back on 24th February 2019. Watch this space folks. And for those of you wanting a much better flavour of what this weekend has been all about then check out Granite Noir TV for some of the panels that were recorded over the weekend.

Signed book wise I was very restrained. Only the two. Killed by Thomas Enger and Eeny Meeny by MJ Arlidge. I still have some more to buy this coming week though as I attend the Orenda Roadshow in Warwick on Wednesday. Cannot wait. To those poor Orenda authors who have been at Granite Noir this weekend, I am not stalking you (much) I am acting as chauffeur for my sister. Honest.

All this travel has been both good and bad for reading and book buying. Aside from the two books above, I may have bought a couple of other titles and I might have received a teeny bit more book post … Book post wise I have received The Lost Girl by Carol Drinkwater and The Language of Secrets by Ausma Zehanat Khan so thank you to Penguin and No Exit Press for those.

Book purchase wise, clearly being at a literary festival has curtailed my spending. As a result I have only bought Letters To My Daughters by Emma Hannigan; Dark Pines by Will Dean (seemed rude not to); The Devil’s Dice by Roz Watkins; The Lincoln Rhyme Collection Books 1-4 and 5-8 by Jeffrey Deaver (possibly inspired by watching The Bone Collector the other evening – I do love Denzel …); Hold My Hand by MJ Ford; The Bone Keeper by Luca Veste; The Sweetheart Killer by Arlene Hunt; Lucky Ghost by Matthew Blakstad; Anatomy of a Scandal by Sarah Vaughan; In Bitter Chill by Sarah Ward and Sewing the Shadows Together by Alison Baillie. Not a lot of books at all really.

Whoops. Reading wise it’s not been too bad I suppose. I’ve managed a few books and an audio book so I can’t really complain.

Books I have read

Silent Victim – Caroline Mitchell

Emma’s darkest secrets are buried in the past. But the truth can’t stay hidden for long.

Emma is a loving wife, a devoted mother…and an involuntary killer. For years she’s been hiding the dead body of the teacher who seduced her as a teen.

It’s a secret that might have stayed buried if only her life had been less perfect. A promotion for Emma’s husband, Alex, means they can finally move to a bigger home with their young son. But with a buyer lined up for their old house, Emma can’t leave without destroying every last trace of her final revenge…

Returning to the shallow grave in the garden, she finds it empty. The body is gone.

Panicked, Emma confesses to her husband. But this is only the beginning. Soon, Alex will discover things about her he’ll wish he’d learned sooner. And others he’ll long to forget.

A dark and tense thriller with a protagonist with a very terrible secret. I blasted through this in a day as it was the kind of read which just compelled you onwards. It is released on 1st March and you can order a copy here.

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Bring Me Flowers – DK Hood

She didn’t know he was watching. Until it was too late.

She’d walked this path hundreds of times before, she knew every twist and turn. But today was different. She didn’t know someone was waiting for her, hidden away from view. She didn’t know this was the last time she’d walk this path.

Hidden deep in the forest, schoolgirl Felicity Parker is found carefully laid out on a rock with nothing but a freshly picked bunch of flowers next to her lifeless form. Detective Jenna Alton is called in to investigate the gruesome discovery.

With the body found just off a popular hiking route, Jenna believes the killer is a visitor to the town… until a second local girl is discovered.

Within days, Kate Bright, a school friend of Felicity’s, is found brutally murdered at the local swimming pool and once again, the killer has displayed his victim in a terrifying manner and left flowers at the scene.

The town is gripped with fear and Jenna and her deputy, David Kane, now know that the killer is living amongst them, and that he’s picking off school girls one by one. But they don’t know who is next on the list.

As the trail goes cold, Kane and Alton are forced to sit and wait for the killer to make his next move. But now he has a new victim in his sights, and he’s looking much closer to home …

If you love Robert Dugoni, Karin Slaughter and Rachel Abbott you’ll love this nail-biting thriller from D.K. Hood.

This is the second in the series and I think it will help readers to have consumed book one, but is not essential. Set in small town America there is a chilling and merciless killer on the loose in a story which will have you locking up your daughters. You can preorder a copy here.

…

The Visitor – KL Slater

He’ll make sure she never wants to leave…

Holly never thought she’d move back to her home town, but then something terrible happened. She doesn’t know if she can recover. But she knows she can never tell another soul.

People say her neighbour, David, is “different”. He doesn’t go out much, and never after dark. But in David Holly finds just what she needs: a friend. Someone who’s always there.

No one knows Holly’s secret, or where she lives. She has left the past behind. She is sure of it. So why does she feel as though she’s in terrible danger?

An absolutely unputdownable psychological thriller, from the bestselling author of Blink and The Mistake. Perfect for fans of The Girl on the Train and The Couple Next Door.

A gripping thriller which has you wondering just which way is up. So many possible outcomes in this book and an undercurrent of unease which will have readers in a spin. You can preorder a copy here.

…

The Babysitter – Sheryl Browne

You trust her with your family. Would you trust her with your life?

Mark and Melissa Cain are thrilled to have found Jade, a babysitter who is brilliant with their young children. Having seen her own house burn to the ground, Jade needs them as much as they need her. Moving Jade into the family home can only be a good thing, can’t it?

As Mark works long hours as a police officer and Melissa struggles with running a business, the family become ever more reliant on their babysitter, who is only too happy to help. And as Melissa begins to slip into depression, it’s Jade who is left picking up the pieces.

But Mark soon notices things aren’t quite as they seem. Things at home feel wrong, and as Mark begins to investigate their seemingly perfect sitter, what he discovers shocks him to his core. He’s met Jade before. And now he suspects he might know what she wants …

Mark is in a race against time to protect his family. But what will he find as he goes back to his family home?

A true cuckoo in the nest kind of thriller this may well have you losing your mind. Tense and occasionally skin crawling if you are a cat lover you may want to look away … You can preorder a copy here.

,,,

Anatomy of a Scandal – Sarah Vaughan

A high-profile marriage thrust into the spotlight. A wife, determined to keep her family safe, must face a prosecutor who believes justice has been a long time coming. A scandal that will rock Westminster. And the women caught at the heart of it.

Anatomy of a Scandal centres on a high-profile marriage that begins to unravel when the husband is accused of a terrible crime. Sophie is sure her husband, James, is innocent and desperately hopes to protect her precious family from the lies which might ruin them. Kate is the barrister who will prosecute the case – she is equally certain that James is guilty and determined he will pay for his crimes.

Oh my life this is such a brilliant book. I’ve had it on my biggest regrets pile for a while so the long drive up to Scotland gave me just the excuse I needed to ‘read’ it at long last. Clever, observant and so brilliantly topical this is a fabulous book which you can order here.

…

Blog has been busy enough, all things considered, and you can find the highlights below (or links to the posts even). I did take part in a Writing Challenge as part of Rachel Abbott’s blog tour so if you are really bored, do go and take a look. You’ll have a chance to vote on your favourite challenge entries soon so keep an eye on Rachel’s Twitter and Facebook feeds for more details.

Guest Post: CJ Harter author of Fitful Head

#BlogTour: The Little Cottage on the Hill by Emma Davies

#BlogTour: Come a Little Closer by Rachel Abbott

#BlogTour: #TheLastLaugh by Tracy Bloom

Review: Before I Let You Go by Kelly Rimmer

Clearly as I am cutting back on the blogging this year, I have nothing in the diary for the week ahead. Well … apart from blog tours for SE Lynes’ The Pact; BK Duncan’s Found Drowned; Peter Ritchie’s Evidence of Death; Aidan Conway’s A Known Evil; Caroline Mitchell’s Silent Victim; DK Hood’s Bring Me Flowers and KL Slater’s The Visitor. It seems to be all about the initials this week. Do join me if you can.

I am looking forward to another brilliantly bookish week. See you all again soon…

Jen

Rewind, recap: Weekly update w/e 25/02/18 So this is the blog post that isn't meant to happen but I had a couple of hours in between events so here we are.

#Rewind Recap #Weekly Round UP

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