#it’s not exactly hard to find a boot that’ll tell you what lyrics are being used

[cdaae]

Oop she’s wrong about the lyrics too

“Three long years” are the original lyrics, that implied the show was taking place in the 1870s

“Passing bells” replaced it.

The restaged used “three long years”

Broadway used “passing” for the entire run. London swapped around 2002 and continues to use “passing”. Italy uses “passing”. To say that if you go and see the show now, you’ll hear “three long years” is not correct.

Shouldn’t a phantom “expert AND historian” know the history and what’s currently going on with the show?

[duhragonball]

Hellsing Liveblog Ch. 35-40

This is the one-part “Xanado”, and the five-part “Final Fantasy”. 

So last time, we saw a Millennium team led by Rip Van Winkle take control of a British aircraft carrier, which forced Hellsing to send Alucard to deal with the situation.   He accomplished his mission, but now he’s stuck on the boat by himself, because vampires can’t cross running water.   I suppose Hellsing would have arranged a second aircraft to pick him up, but they’ve got bigger problems on their hands.   Just as Alucard finishes off Winkle, reports come in of communication breakdowns all over Great Britain.  Military, intelligence, police, all out of reach.  Integra recognizes this as Millennium’s next move.    By taking out the communications networks, they ensure a clear shot for their invasion force to move in.   But how did they pull this off?

Simple, they did it the same way they arranged all those vampire attacks during the summer, and the Valentine assault on Hellsing Manor, and the Brazillian Police raid on Alucard’s hotel suite, and Lt. Winkle’s takeover of the H.M.S Eagle.    They convinced a bunch of Brits to betray their country in exchange for being turned into vampires.   The only real surprise here is the sheer breadth of treachery this time around, as Millennium must have created dozens of sleeper agents throughout the country, each tasked with hijacking or sabotaging key defense systems.  And Vice-Admiral Penwood’s command is no exception.    Those a-holes who gave Integra a hard time earlier?   Turns out they were in the tank for Millennium all along, and now that the invasion force has arrived, they’ve revealed their true colors.   At first, they’re pretty thrilled to have captured Integra Hellsing herself, but she calmly informs them that they’re minor league vampires at best, and they’ve foolishly revealed themselves in the presence of expert vampire hunters.

And Walter calmly slices them all up with his magic wire powers.  Cool.

But that’s not going to stop the one thousand vampire soldiers currently heading into British airspace.   I think the most striking visual in this part of the story are the expressions of sheer excitement on these guys’ faces.  They’re just so thrilled for what’s about to happen, and when you consider how long they’ve waited, it only makes sense.   It’s almost infectious, until you recall just what it is they’ve come here to do.  

Meanwhile, Alexander Anderson watches the Millennium blimps roll in.   Oh, right, I forgot about him.    Back in chapter 25 he was still in Brazil, trying to locate Millennium’s HQ, but all he found were human agents trying to stop him, which he found rather insulting.   Then Maxwell contacted him to explain what he learned from the summit with Hellsing, and he ordered Maxwell to come to London in preparation for a great crusade.   But unlike the Crusads of old, their enemy is not Allah, but Mars, since Millennium is so devoted to war.   Anyway, Anderson’s here and ready to rock.

Meanwhile, the people of London finally spot these blimps rolling in, and it’s pretty horrifying stuff.   We’ve already seen the carnage that can be wrought by a few vampires, and now it’s a thousand vampires, and they’re all Nazi soldiers to boot.   The sense of dread here is just palpable.

Aboard the flagship (flagblimp?) the Major starts giving his men their orders, and they even have a stupid invasion handbook for the occasion.   Warrant Officer Schrodinger lost his and has to share with the Captain.   I suppose this is intended to alleviate the tension, except, no, it really doesn’t.    These guys are all horrible monsters in every sense of the word, and they’re about to do awful, unspeakable things.    Schrodinger’s comic relief moments only make it worse.

The Major gives an extra-long speech for the occasion, basically outlining all the buildings and people in London that he wants his men to destroy (tl;dr: “all of them”).  He then assigns Lt. Zorin Blitz to take one of the blimps with a contingent of men and head for the Hellsing mansion on the outskirts of town.   She figures that’ll be an easy gig, since Alucard is away, but the Major warns her not to underestimate Integra Hellsing or Seras Victoria.   He doesn’t exactly explain his concerns about Seras, but the mere fact that she’s Alucard’s servant is probably reason enough to be mindful, and Integra is Alucard’s master, and she comes from a long line of vampire hunters, so the Major considers them both to be archenemies on the same level as Al himself, despite their inexperience. 

So the Major explicitly orders Zorin to go to the mansion but not to attack.   Her task is to observe an wait for the Major’s order.    This will be important later.

Then the Major orders a bunch of V-1 and V-2 rockets launched at London.   I mean, geez, were the hundreds of vampire soldiers not enough?  Did he think he needed to soften the city up first?  

Then the troops jump out of the blimp to begin their assault.  They look like they’re parachuting down, but I don’t think any of them are wearing parachutes, since they shouldn’t need them.  It’s almost pathetic the way they talk to each other with all of this professional military talk and congratulating each other on a successful landing.    London is virtually defenseless and this is a slaughter, not a battle, but they’ve been psyched up for this for 55 years.

Back at Penwood’s base, Integra warns him to flee before the main invasion force arrives, but Penwood insists on remaining at his post.   He confesses that he’s completely incompetent, and he only has this position because of his inherited title, but he refuses to abandon his duty, since that’s the only honorable thing he can do.   Integra leaves him a gun with silver bullets and wishes him well as she heads for her own duty.    Penwood orders his men to evacuate, but they refuse, since Penwood can’t actually operate any of the equipment here.

So now we get an extended sequence of Milennium marching through London, basically sacking the city and slaughtering anyone they meet.   This is accompanied by the lyrics to “Akuma Stocking” which I think was used in the anime adaptation as well.   There’s a lot of gory scenes here, but the three main visuals that stuck with me in the anime are these:

First, this motherfucker eating a baby.   

Second, all the Londinian civilians they bite end up rising up and transforming into ghouls, who then join in the slaughter.    It’s easy to forget about ghouls at this point, but Millennium never forgot.   Their artificial vampires can’t turn virgins into new vampires, and I think that may be by design.   They were counting on their victims rising up to compound the horror.    

Third, just a lot of bayonet-usage going on here.   You’d think they’d be content to bite and shoot people, but these guys seem to enjoy hoisting up their prey to show them off.   It’s a horrific nightmare and there’s no end in sight.   

Integra and Walter speed home as fast as they can, but they stop to take out a Millennium soldier in a shootout with London police.    She can’t save the cops, but she does avenge them.

Back at the Naval base, Penwood sends out a final transmission as he expects the enemy to enter his post at any moment.    His men are all dead, with the last one shooting himself to avoid becoming a ghoul.  He tells anyone who can hear him to resist and do their duty.    Then he recalls his first meeting with the young Sir Integra.   Back then, he found it ridiculous that a 12 year old should be in charge of Hellsing, but she quickly puts him in his place, and established that she would be asking him for favors from then on.  

But Penwood won’t be granting any favors to the Kraut bastards who storm his post.  Instead he sets off the explosives they set up earlier and I guess they all die together.   I wouldn’t have thought an explosion would kill these vampires, but they are a lot less formidable than Dandyman or the Valentines.   Luke couldn’t regenerate his foot, for example.

When Integra shot that one vampire, she gave away her position, and now Millennium is on her trail.   Just when it seems they have a clear shot at escape, someone blocks their path, and Walter tells Integra to take the wheel and find another route.    He’s going to stay behind to fight this guy, but he doesn’t think he can hold him off for long.

Integra does as he asks, but orders him to return alive “at all costs.”   Hmm.

Walter uses his wire power, but it turns out this is the Captain, and he’s apparently powerful enough to foil his attack.    Walter recognizes him, presumably from when he and Alucard fought the proto-Millennium in the 1940s.

And then the Major flies along in his blimp and confirms it. 

Meanwhile, Integra gives the Last Battalion a merry chase, but eventually she crashes the car and seems to be cornered.  One asshole tries to get closer to finish her off, but she decapitates him with her sword.

His comrades accuse her of being a “sore loser” and tell her to give up, but she mocks them all for being cowards who surrendered their humanity.  She’s hardcore, she’s hardcore.

But before she can fight all these vampires alone, somebody comes along and throws a bunch of blessed bayonets at them.   These did a number on Alucard and Seras, but they didn’t cause any lasting harm.   Seras was even able to pull them out without too much trouble.   But this shithead just disintigrates on the spot.  Remember, the Last Battalion’s main advantage is their number.   Individually, they’re not terribly impressive, at least as vampires go.

But yeah, it’s Alexander Anderson, along with his two sidekicks, Heinkel Wolfe and Yumiko Takagi, the stars of Kouta Hirano’s earlier manga, “Cross-Fire”.   We’ve seen Heinkel in Hellsing before, but I think this is Yumie’s debut here.  They chastise Anderson for interfering, since they were only sent to observe, but Anderson is too fired up by Integra’s fighting spirit, and he wants to kill some vampires, dammit.

Turns out there’s quite a few of these Iscariot guys here, maybe all of them, but Anderson starts doing a whole routine with them, as they chant all this stuff about how they’re assassins in the tradition of Judas, the disciple who betrayed Christ.  I’m not sure I get much of this, but it’s nice that Hirano put some thought into Section XIII as the super-secret death squad of this fantasy version of the Vatican.

And that’s all we have for now.   

[kisskissbanggang]

Standby pt. 3

[<15Min. Read/3.6K Words – Bang Chan x Female Reader – Idol!AU – NSFW/Some Smut, A Suspicious Amount of Plot – Unfortunate Pining, Long Flights, Passing Notes, Blowjobs, Exhibitionism, Edging, Risky Situations, Acting Professional]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Masterlist | Feedback

So, if I’m not going to finish, we at least definitely have more than enough time to talk now, right?

You stared at the words Chan scrawled in the margins of your meeting notes from two days ago. He casually set the pen back into your hand. As if getting on the damn plane wasn't hard enough, now you had to deal with this.

Chan simpered and pulled his jacket out of his carry-on and zipped it on, snuggling into the hood now that he was safely on the plane. He saw your shaking eyes and merely shrugged. Your move, he seemed to say.

You grabbed your pen.

I'm not playing this game, you wrote, there's nothing to talk about.

Chan rolled his eyes, scoffing under his face mask as he plucked your pen back from you. What game? It's a long flight, he scribbled, I'm sure we'll find something to talk about.

Impatient and fuming, you snapped your notebook shut and chunked it into the seat-back pocket in front of you before bundling yourself into your jacket. You rifled through your bag and dug out your eye mask and, shooting Chan an indignant glare, snapped it on, pulled up your hood, and promptly tried to catch some rest on your dumbly long flight.

However, what you really wanted to do was face the more pressing matter at hand and take any time to process your feelings here as you shuffled in your seat to face away from him. Who were you kidding? Chan, or Chris, or whatever you wanted to call him -- was just a guy. Despite the wings you'd been plucking off the butterflies in your stomach, more hatched each day. You were being unreasonable. There would always be another boy with a nice laugh and a cute dimple. There would always be another boy with an adorable nose and a long neck. Just like there would always be another boy that always brought you coffee from the corner store when he went shopping for the band, or another boy that would kiss you as if he was meant to and insist on eating you out while on standby for your flight and --

You shook yourself out of it, sighing as you resettled in your seat. Who were you kidding? Maybe there wouldn't be other guys like Chris, or Chan, or whatever you wanted to call him, but this was so much trouble that you felt like the deck was on fire while you were bailing out the boat. All you knew was how much more difficult ignoring this was becoming. The first day at the cafe was simple -- he was just a customer. The first day with the group was easy -- he was just an idol. The day back at Inkigayo was a little more difficult -- he was alluring in a way you weren't sure he even meant, but he was in need of your help and even that got you going in a way you hadn't predicted before. This was a fine hole you'd dug for yourself, the perfect size for a premature casket. In fact, from all the stress and introspection, you managed to get distracted by actually falling asleep.

Some time had passed by the time you woke up, but you couldn't be sure if it were hours or minutes. You checked your phone: only one hour had elapsed. You sighed, daring to roll back over and see how Chan was doing. By now he was turned away, curled up with his headphones on as he presumably rested. You slipped off your sleeping mask and sat up, looking down to see what you were wrapped up in: one of those blankets you'd marveled to Chan once about how much comfier they were than the ones in business class. Sighing, you attempted to un-blanket yourself, nearly knocking over a coffee and a ginger ale set on your tray table: your usual order from the beverage cart on long flights. You tasted the coffee. Dammit. It was perfect with your right amount of cream and sugar. You sighed, letting your head thunk back against the headrest. Out of the corner of your eye, you spied Chan's notebook sitting on his tray table, open to a page with choreo notes and bites of lyrics he'd been mulling over when he couldn't sleep. You surreptitiously grabbed the notebook, sliding the pen out of the spiral binding and, making sure he hadn't been roused by your secret mission, set to task on a fresh page.

It's hard to say exactly what has been going through my head, other than, clearly, I really like you and this is dangerous for both of us, you wrote.

You're being nice like you're nice to everyone but I keep thinking it's about me and it drives me crazy. I like my job, and I need it. I graduate soon, and I'll be that much closer to making this a real career. I'll be able to go back to my apartment once we get back home, and maybe that'll be good for both of us, to get some space. I always said I'd do right by you, and right now that means getting back to the way things were. You're terrific, and that makes it that much harder to not want you like I do. I'm sorry I can't really find the words to say this in person, but you're so good to me. I'd rather be frustrated and have to get over you than lose you altogether.

Before you could chicken out, you set the notebook back on Chris' tray table and resumed looking like you were sleeping, momentarily terrified as you noticed him shift beside you before a short rest caught you again.

It felt like no time had passed, when in fact it had been another hour and a half according to your phone. You took a sip of your cold coffee before glancing over at Chris' notebook. A response. Checking to see if he was still resting, you gently grabbed the notebook and pulled it close.

You don't think I know how dangerous this whole thing is? For me, too? Believe me, I wasn't expecting this either, so this is amazing and awful all at the same time. I'll say what we're both thinking and I'm surprised you haven't said yet: I wish it wasn't you but here you are and this is what we're working with. I think you're right about getting some space. It's the smart thing to do. I'd rather be frustrated than not have you around.

You went to grab the pen off of Chris' tray table, not noticing he had woken up and was currently reaching for his drink. Startled, you gasped out a quick laugh before settling, fully taking off your eye mask and slipping it back in your bag. You set the notebook back on his tray table, this time just penning the quick response right there, leaned a little into his personal space over the arm rest.

Thanks for the drinks.

He grabbed the pen back from you with a smile. No problem.

You pulled your own pen back out from your notebook. So, you scribbled, we're keeping it professional.

Yeah, he replied, professional is really the only way to go if we want to survive this.

It was nice while it lasted, though.

I wouldn't trade it for anything, he responded.

Could you imagine? Secret gifts and dates and the whole shebang.

You were almost writing in tandem now, each of you filling up a column on the page.

Right? Bad secret names for KKT. "Princess" or "Boo" or

"Babygirl?"

Shut up.

You both let out a quiet laugh, settling in next to each other and just writing back and forth like this. You'd never really had a chance to talk to Chris like this before, really getting to know him and just hang out, and it was surprisingly easy to fall into line with, as if you were returning and not just trying it out for the first time. However, each period punctuated how hard reality was going to hit you once this plane landed, and according to your watch that was creeping closer and closer. Filling time on your stupidly long flight turned out to be so much easier when it was with someone you enjoyed this much. Naps filling the spaces between movies and eating and work and more talking all the while left you dumbfounded as the captain announced your upcoming descent.

Here it was. Reality. Being professional. Being able to keep each other around while keeping the careers you both worked so hard for. Was it the change in altitude or your stomach crowding your lungs from the growing pit inside you? You grabbed Chan's notebook one more time -- your exchanges filling nearly ten pages of notes in various sizes and lengths, the blank spaces filled with doodles and games of tic-tac-toe.

I'll miss this, you wrote.

Me, too, he replied.

You shared a meaningful look as the plane touched down. This feeling was familiar. You stood up straight once the plane pulled into the gate, shaking it off and getting the hell over it. You were smart. You were professional. You were capable. You were right back in management mode, getting the two of you through customs with ease and arranging for an Uber with your international phone booted up and ready to go. Quickly, you sent a quick text to Hyun-Jae-unnie to let her know you'd arrived. No replies came except for a memo in your inbox letting you know rehearsal was thankfully postponed by a couple hours. You really had to pat yourself on the back: you were going to get to the hotel with plenty of time to change and settle and head to the venue for rehearsal. You could already hear the modest praise as your Uber pulled up. Your driver offered you the front seat unless, of course, you wanted to sit in the back with your "boyfriend". Just as you were about to politely correct him, Chan slid up, thanking him and pulling you into the backseat by the hand.

You stared at him wildly before digging out your phone and tapping out a quick message.

>What the hell are you doing?

>>Oh calm down would you? I'm enjoying myself for a couple more minutes. This guy has probably never heard of k-pop and definitely doesn't know who I am. Loosen up... Babygirl.

>Shut UP.

You watched, flabbergasted and quietly impressed as Chan gladly made flawless small talk with the driver involving an entirely untrue story that he had to have been telling off the cuff: you'd met at university in Sydney, you'd been dating ever since, and you'd always wanted to travel to the States together. You nodded along dumbly, never once letting go of Chan's hand. Was this something he'd thought of already? Some alternate universe where this would not only be fine, but encouraged? Feeling so smitten felt like staring into Oblivion now. You thanked your lucky stars as the car pulled up to the hotel. You tersely thanked the driver before nearly sprinting out of the car and into the lobby to grab your room keys, not daring to look back at Chan gleefully trotting behind you.

Running into the elevator on the outskirts of the lobby, the doors barely closed before you wheeled Chan around, shoving him up against the wall. You punched the button for the top floor, well past where you were heading, but you had more important business to take care of first.

"What the hell was that about?!"

"What?" Chan laughed, "I can't have one more nice little memory between the two of us?"

You agitatedly smacked his arm. "No, Chan, you can't! It's reckless and selfish and wrong and I hate how much I want more of it! We can't just do this because we have an opportunity."

"Oh, so I'm 'Chan' again now?" You'd expected a few responses, but that hadn't been one them.

"Yes, Chan, because that's exactly what I'm talking about," you huffed, "I'm not about to treat you differently anymore just to get your rocks off." You poked a finger into his chest, shocked as he grabbed it and pulled you close. Struggling for only a moment, you found yourself soothed as Chan only wrapped his arms around you; a simple embrace that would normally be entirely innocuous. You sank into his hold, selfishly taking one more moment as he stroked your hair.

"Sorry," he said quietly, "I just realized that while we've made out, and you've jerked me off for God's sake, we've never just done... This? I just wanted to do it before we really have to stop."

"I... Okay." For once, you had no words, content to just let this be for a second.

"You have to slow down one of these days," Chan laughed softly, "I can take care of you, too, you know. Or, at least, I could've."

At this, you looked up at him, gloriously, stupidly infatuated with him as ever, and found him gazing with that same expression right back at you.

And your lips met. You weren't sure who leaned in first this time, but you seemed to silently agree that anything this stupid worth doing was worth doing until the very last second. Both your carry-on bags hit the floor of the elevator, your arms wrapped tight around each other as you kissed. You were both rudely awakened as the elevator chimed for the top floor, and you impulsively leaned over, punching the button for the bottom floor of the parking garage. The elevator doors slid shut once again and lurched into its descent as you grabbed Chris' face closer once again. This trip seemed to go by twice as fast, Chris out of breath and nuzzling your neck as the elevator chimed. He reached for the button and you stopped him, your hand on his and leading it back around your waist.

"Did you have to pick the most inconvenient place on the planet?" He laughed right below your ear.

"If we play our cards right," you breathed, "we won't be interrupted much if we just let the elevator sit. At worst we'll occasionally have to deal with an interruption if someone gets on."

"When we're trying to get off?" Chris quipped.

"Oh, is that what we're doing?" You smirked in reply.

His hands eagerly squeezed your hips. "I don't know if you're keeping score, but I didn't get to finish--" he quickly checked his phone "-- yesterday. I've been thinking about this since yesterday."

"Awh," you cooed, "is that the case? Maybe I can help you out." You hazarded a cursory grope of his stiffening member in his jeans. This had quickly crossed back into "too far" territory as Chris' head immediately leaned back against the wall of the elevator, a low groan escaping him.

"More," he begged under his breath, his hands clutching onto the hand rail as you snuck your fingers under his briefs to more firmly massage his length. You couldn't help but marvel at how much had changed since this moment weeks ago at Inkigayo, entirely awkward and tense -- to right now, halfway across the world and foolish enough to feel invincible. Chris' hand gently traveling up your arm to feel your warm breast brought you back to the present time, making you hungrier for even more.

"Hey," you offered with a sly smile, "didn't I show you something nifty the last time we did this?"

"You mean that perfect finale?" He replied, trying to keep up despite the blood draining from his head straight to his cock.

"How about an encore?" You laughed.

Chris groaned. "Oh my god," he smirked, "I thought I was the cheesy one."

"I figured you'd know as well as anyone I'm a sucker for competition." You playfully shrugged as you lifted the hem of his shirt for better access to his waistband. You carefully dropped to your knees in the elevator, now resting in the parking garage until it was called again. Chris was stuck looking for a comeback as you pulled out his erection, pressing a sweet kiss just below his navel before tentatively licking a short stripe up the underside of his cock. He cursed gruffly, his knuckles white where he clung to the handrail. "This is what you wanted?" You asked sweetly.

"Please fucking do it," he pleaded and you gladly obliged, your eyes flitting to the digital display on the wall as the elevator lurched back into motion. You had ten floors to make him suffer, and you savored every second of it as you wrapped your lips around his length. The soft head of his cock dipped further into your mouth, happily taking your time and enjoying his whines. The second the elevator hit the ninth floor, you wiped your mouth and shoved him back into his jeans. You strategically stood in front of him as he impatiently tapped his foot behind you. You made friendly small-talk to the new occupants of the elevator as you typed a quick message to Chris on your phone. You half-turned to show him.

>You alright???

Chris grumbled behind you and you felt him tap his phone against your hip a moment later. You looked down and grabbed it to read.

>>You know those things that people joke about musicians getting to enjoy? Well this is very much that and I'd really really really really like to get back to it

You barely held in a giggle. The poor guy was doomed and you'd hardly started. You both gave a friendly wave to the passengers of the elevator and he actually beat you to punch the button for the bottom floor again. He let out a heavy sigh as you eagerly dropped back to your knees and resumed the slowest blowjob you'd ever stood to give.

The elevator routine repeated two more times and by now, Chris was sweating. It had reached the point where you were now gently ordering him to keep his hands to himself, you know, so you neither of you would get distracted.

"Please, baby, come on," he urged, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. He cursed thoroughly as you bobbed him into your throat, lightly gagging for just a moment.

"I wouldn't beg too much if I were you," you warned, "I might not have that much more patience for it."

"You're right," he struggled, restraining himself from thrusting into your mouth, "you're right, baby, I'm sorry."

You grinned at the compliance as the elevator chimed. It was ringing for your floor. You quickly checked the clock on the other side of the doorway; you'd had plenty of time to play. One more trip and you'd reward Chris for such a good time. You wondered what else you could get up to as the elevator rose, making sure to back up each time it sounded like he was getting close. You teasingly kissed the tip of his cock before slipping it back into his briefs as the elevator neared your floor. Chris finally caught his breath as you dusted yourself off and got up. You pressed a nice kiss to his lips and shared a small smile just before the doors slid open.

Hyun-Jae-unnie was down the hallway, making her way with the boys toward the staff member who had rung up the elevator. She was inspecting her itineraries for the day in a folder she cradled in her arm.

"Unnie!" You called excitedly, giving a wave. Chris cursed quietly behind you. His orgasm just got postponed indefinitely. Unnie's head snapped up at the sound of your voice and charged towards you.

"Unnie, I--"

"You wretched, horny, stupid girl." She growled, lunging into the elevator and getting a solid hold on your hair at the root and began tugging you out into the hallway despite your shocked scream. Chris tried to intervene, shocked as Hyun-Jae pushed him off. She was a good bit shorter than you; you'd never expected her to be so strong.

"Noona--" Chris tried weakly, still attempting to let the blood flow back to the right places.

"I'll deal with you later," she replied sharply with a glare.

"Hyuna-Jae-noona, it's not what--" he tried again.

"Oh," she laughed, crazed, "It's not what I think? Not much left to think. I leave you two idiots alone for a day and look at this forest fire I have to put out." She let go of your hair and shoved her folder into your hands. You opened it, nearly dropping it in shock.

Photos upon photos of the both of you from the past 24 hours. Naver and Twitter screenshots printed out, fans wondering who you were and picking you out from photos and footage since the beginning of your internship. Wild conspiracies that you took a separate flight on purpose. Wilder conspiracies that you got the job just to get closer to Chris. Had you really been standing that close together the whole time in the airport? Had you really looked that comfortable together? There were ten or so photos of you both in the airport lounge -- you should've known it was too crowded to be normal. Hell, there was even a photo of Chris pulling you into your Uber by the hand from just a couple hours ago.

"Noona -- " Chris started meekly.

"Not now, Chan. Go to rehearsal."

"But, Noona, I --"

"Rehearsal. NOW." She shot him a severe look. Changbin reached forward to gently pull Chris into the elevator. Everyone watched you, stares ranging from sympathy to contempt as the doors began to slide shut. You turned back to face Hyun-Jae's rage.

"You. Get in our room right now. We have to talk."

[To Be Continued.]

[rkohsehun]

september evaluations - skill in focus: rap! without me by eminem

shady’s back. tell a friend. ‘cause it feels so empty without me!

the first thought he has is what am i doing here?

nervousness clouds his mind and makes him fidgety. all those workshop they had prepared for him for this very moment suddenly went out of the window - he couldn’t remember a thing. now he’s starting to wonder if it’s a smart move to pick out a song from one of the best rappers of his time. could he give it justice? probably not, and he’s probably going to be mobbed by slim shady’s fans (he knows he’d mob himself if he slips this up). but at this point, he just hopes he doesn’t bite his tongue off in the middle of his evaluations.

he runs the lyrics one more time in his head as he nervously waits for his name to be called. he finds out tapping his foot on the floor or his hand on his thigh helps him feel the rhythm. it’s probably a dancer thing, and having his body moving is helping him in general. he has the words memorized like the back of his hand, which was surprising considering how tongue twisting the song is. but it’s a challenge he feels himself wanting to take. speed rapping is a hurdle for him. he figures this is the best time to try and overcome it.

…sort of.

I’ve created a monster, ‘cause nobody wants to see Marshall no more they want Shady I’m chopped liver well if you want Shady, this is what I’ll give ya a little bit of weed mixed with some hard liquor some vodka that’ll jumpstart my heart quicker than a shock when I get shocked at the hospital by the doctor when I’m not cooperating when I’m rocking the table while he’s operating (hey!) you waited this long now stop debating ‘cause I’m back, I’m on the rag and ovulating I know that you got a job Ms. Cheney but your husband’s heart problem’s complicating So the FCC won’t let me be or let me be me so let me see they tried to shut me down on MTV but it feels so empty without me So come on dip, bum on your lips fuck that, cum on your lips and some on your tits and get ready ‘cause this shit’s about to get heavy I just settled all my lawsuits FUCK YOU, DEBBIE!

it’s an old one, but the song is probably one of the most iconic song of eminem. it’s a fun song; it practically demands you to jam to it and pulls you to try and sing along even when you stopped making sense by the third line. he had memorized the lyrics before he tried to rap it off with the music, and he remembered himself losing his timing or forgetting which line is next because he forgot a word probably five times. let’s not even talk about how many times his lisp had slipped out a couple of times, too (so many letter “s”!). he lost count on how many times he had laughed at himself when he does little mistakes like that while practising. but when he finally finds the right rhythm and was able to do the song once without messing up along the way, he jumped probably five feet off the ground in celebration.

sehun tries to remember that feeling as he waits for his cue, but he’s already dancing to the beat at the first drop of the bass, finding his rhythm almost like a second instinct. the words are honestly a blurred mess inside his head, unable to make sense of anything so he’s a little surprised to hear himself rap the right lyrics out, like he’s never done anything else before. but sehun knows better than be too comfortable. it’s a long verse and anything happen so he makes sure to be extra careful. he doesn’t exactly know how he’s able to do it, but he’s able to pull his senses together enough to keep his performance in check. the words flow out smoother than expected, and he figures that’s a good sign. he almost sighed out loud in relief when the verse ends.

he doesn’t even want to think over how many times he had cursed in this song. he’ll mull over that later.

Now this looks like a job for me so everybody just follow me ‘Cause we need a little controversy, ‘Cause it feels so empty without me

the chorus is short, but it’s definitely his favourite part of the song. he grew up hearing eminem songs, and he remembered this as the only part he was able to sing along to when he was a kid because he honestly couldn’t understand a word from the rest of the song. soon enough, his arm is moving on its own, waving up and down as if he’s trying to get the panel to dance and sing along with him too.

this is probably the most fun he’s had doing a solo rap performance. he’s usually a ball of nerves, the shaking of his hands seemingly getting worse the more he stood in front. but now there’s nothing but the beat of the song ringing in his ears. he’s enjoying so much that he’s actually smiling, nervousness forgotten.

Little hellions kids feeling rebellious embarrassed, their parents still listen to Elvis they start feeling like prisoners, helpless, ‘til someone comes along on a mission and yells “bitch” A visionary, vision is scary, could start a revolution, polluting the air waves a rebel so just let me revel and bask, in the fact that I got everyone kissing my ass and it’s a disaster such a catastrophe for you to see so damn much of my ass you ask for me? Well I’m back [batman sound] fix your bent antennae tune it in and then I’m gonna enter in and up under your skin like a splinter The center of attention back for the winter I’m interesting, the best thing since wrestling Infesting in your kids ears and nesting Testing “Attention Please” feel the tension soon as someone mentions me here’s my 10 cents my 2 cents is free A nuisance, who sent, you sent for me?

sehun moves around the small area, his hands doing this little gestures that helps him find the right rhythm as word after word spill out of his mouth. the beat has obviously gotten a hold of his body, his hand tapping against his leg to the beat, and if it weren’t for the fact that he needs his brain’s undivided attention to keep his lyrics in proper order, he would have ended up dancing. so instead he settled with head bobbing and walking around with an obvious skip in his every step (anyting to keep his body moving).

eminem’s songs are known for its explicit lyrics, and if his friends (or his parents) could hear him now they’d probably be floored at how the words crawl out of his mouth in the speed of light, his lisp could barely be noticed at all. and it’s probably just him, but this part felt a lot more complicated than the first verse. the lines are longer, and the rhymes a lot more obvious. sehun had been worried (and had been so sure) he’d mix up the words somewhere in the middle of this verse. he had even mentally prepared himself on what to do or how to react when it does happen. but so far, he miraculously survives this part, too. he moves his head around as he does his best batman’s sound.

Now this looks like a job for me so everybody just follow me ‘Cause we need a little controversy, ‘Cause it feels so empty without me

sehun had been honestly worried from the beginning of boot camp. he’s the kind of person to be a little lifeless when forced to face something he doesn’t like. it’s not like he hates rapping, though, it’s more like a hurdle that feels a whole lot taller than him - specially that of speed and freestyle rapping. being a person who’s relatively low on creativity, the wit and fast paced thinking process rapping mostly requires of him usually intimidates him, and so he does his best to stay away from it as much as he can. he’d rather dance or sing, unless of course the situation calls for it… like right now.

but the chorus approaches for the second time and instead of feeling the constant worry secretly eating him alive, he’s smiling. he’s enjoying the performance more than he initially thought he would - something he never would have believed to be possible before. he’s doing eminem’s song, one of the most renowned speed rappers out there and he’s rocking it in front of the instructors, not an ounce of nervousness to be seen. he’s sweating though, probably from the exertion (or because of how many times he had cursed in under two minutes) or the lack of air - the song barely gives you enough tome to breathe in preparation for the next line - but the grin on his face stays even after the music fades, his loud breathing and the squeaking of his sneakers on the floor are the only things to be heard.

he did it. he actually did it.