#plus weird war iii which is bad for a lot of reasons but does also buy into this thing of like. people removing jean's autonomy bc they

[wellnoe]

lets make a list of times jean gets mind controlled or fucked with telepathically so that she can get sexually assaulted. warlock, mesmero, mastermind. those 2 guys in fallen angels don't actually get to mind control her but they sure want to!

[missinghan]

radiant ⤖ han jisung

❖ genre : college!au ; love-hate relationship!au ; frenemies to lovers!au ; fluff

❖ word count : 10k.

❖ warning : explicit language & mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : you've made a mental note to yourself never to make dumb bets with J.One again because who knows you'll fall for Han Jisung over two cups of boba?

one.

College. 

That specific morifying seven-letter word can literally make someone jump off a cliff. Like straight up, Lucifer would rather drink and bathe himself in holy water than to join one of the world's most traumatizing systems. Where knowledge is being drilled into people's mind like a tattoo, and it's not even a cute one, one that you most likely will regret later. 

Man, what a life. 

After highschool, most people thought they were ready, physically and mentally. That's not true. Did you really think that you're ready for monotonous lectures, for back-to-back assignments with ridiculous deadlines, for cramming forty slides of the PowerPoint presentation from your professor the night before an exam just because your brain cells decided to say 'fuck it' in the middle of the lecture ? 

No one's ever ready for living to torture themselves. 

Not even Hwang Hyunjin. Hyunjin, the boy you grew up having him right by your window. Hyunjin, that one kid in class who would always hand people his homework whenever they asked for it. He's too kind for this world, for his own good, you often say that to yourself but Hyunjin isn't really all that great. 

He too takes pain in turning in assignments to the T.A and dreads his 9am classes tremendously. But, since he's got a rich ass uncle who has some spare apartments lying somewhat near college ( as long as he preserves the place and invites someone over to help paying the bills ), he doesn't have to deal with the struggles of living on campus. 

And you, just happen to have the honor to live with him. Well, more like temporarily to see how things will work out later. You despise living on campus anyway. 

"What's with the long face ? Did Minho ramble about his cats again instead of working ?" Hyunjin walks into the living room before dropping his keys into the gold-accent bowl that he previously purchased from a garage sale. It's quite convenient, actually, the keys never end up under the couch or some random drawers again.

You look up from your laptop screen, sparing him a glare and focusing back on your assignment. Being a media major is equivalent to taking lots of notes and a shit ton of reading which is a pain in the ass. Meanwhile, a theatre kid like your roommate has his midterms and finals as setting up plays for school's events. Pfft, privileged people.

You don't hate-hate the idea of going to school like some people, in fact, you genuinely love learning, but you're in desperate need of another word for 'child labour' to be applied to this ... situation.

"Ohoho.. It's way worse, trust me, you don't wanna know." You lean your head sideways on one of the pillows, words slightly slurred with your cheek being pressed against the soft surface.

Hyunjin raises his voice from the kitchen area. "Did he confess his love for you or something ?"

"Jesus no ! You know he's not into me like that." You almost screech and sit straight up. "We were supposed to finish our project that's due this Friday. And guess who else was there ? Another chick showed up ! I swear that I wasn't hallucinating, he brought a new one home every other day. She said she was just 'a friend'." You make the quote-on-quote sign with your fingers to emphasize.

You pull on your own hair dramatically with all your might, hissing under your breath just by recalling it. "And whenever we had a twenty-minute break every hour and a half or so, she keeps brushing herself against him, acting all innocent about it. I was deadass pissed off—"

"Woah woah, I don't think it's that—"

You throw your hands in the air helplessly, suppressing the urge to throw a tantrum. "It is that bad, Hyunjin ! The chick doesn't know how to take a fucking hint !" Whatever, Hyunjin is probably too tired to wait for you to finish complaining about some random classmate drooling over Minho because they do that all the time anyway.

"Damn." He sips on his apple juice. "I should come over next time. Might be a not-so-shitty, watered-down version of 'Fifty Shades of Grey'."

You shoot him a glare, closing your laptop shut. "I instantly regret moving in with you."

"Why ?" Hyunjin pouts and plops himself next to you on the beige-colored couch. He reaches for the remote on the coffee table while obnoxiously sipping on the box of juice.

"Because apparently, you love weird, gross, mushy noises as much as Minho does." You answer flatly, burying yourself deeper into the white fuzzy blanket. Actually, no. Living with Hyunjin isn't as bad as you're trying to make it sound.

He might not cook, but he knows some decent restaurant with reasonable prices. He might be all over the place sometimes while panicking over an upcoming exam but at least he keeps his space organized ( unlike Han Jisung, whose closet is a perfect resemblance of World War III ).

Hyunjin throws his apple juice into the nearby bin while scrolling through the 'Romance' section briefly. And sharing the same Netflix account is probably the best decision you two have ever made. "What's worth-hating here ? No smelly kids, no not-having-enough-personal-space problem. There's good food, a cute, quirky roommate which naturally equals good company. You're living your best life right now. The only downside to this is that you have to deal with my questionable sleeping habits."

Fine. Hwang Hyunjin is cute, and a total heartthrob to the entire school. You won't be surprised if every single male student hates him with a passion ( which they do ). Not to mention, all of your female classmates would be more than happy to finish all of your assignments within two days as long as you hand over his number. Although they might want to reconsider due to the fact that this good-looking boy is also that person who records his alarm by yelling at the top of his lungs into his phone speaker.

But, a good friend wouldn't do that, because even God doesn't know what those creepy girls would do once they had their hands on his phone number. This is also why you always get dirty looks from everyone just because you just happen to be his plus-one for everything.

And Hwang Hyunjin only needs a plus-one when Seungmin decides to hate him on that day ( which is almost everyday ). So there goes your reputation. You're probably nothing but a mediocre girl who just doesn't know when not to be all over her hot best friend in the people's eyes.

Hyunjin snaps his head towards the front door when the bell rings then proceeds to turn back to his roommate, showing those ridiculously adorable puppy that naturally implies as 'Get the door for me, will ya ?'. And although all you want to do is to slap him with your laptop, you still stand up nonetheless. You undo the chains and slides the lock over before swinging the door open.

"Hyunjin, I was wondering if you wanna come see us perform this Saturday. You know, at the school's mini music festival. 8p.m. Got two tickets to spare. You can get yourself a plus-one or something." And before you - with an obnoxiously loud tone, the leather jacket and Balenciaga cap - is Changbin, who sassily brushes past you and makes a beeline towards the couch, where Hyunjin is man-spreading, wrapped up securely in his white fluffy blanket.

He lazily sits up from his previous position, receiving the tickets with half-open eyes. "I'll go. As long as 'Wow' is on schedule." 'Wow' is 3racha's first and most definitely last attempt of a love song but somehow, it's managed to get itself a special place in Hyunjin's heart. Well, more accurately, everyone's heart.

Changbin cocks an eyebrow. "It's first on the list actually." He then turns to you with a smirk spread across his lips. "Whatcha say, Y/N ? We all know your favorite line is 'Excuse me noona, do you have a boyfriend ?' from the lovely J.One." He refers to one of Jisung's lines in a love song which he wrote at the age of 16, Changbin wasn’t even 18 himself then. Good times. And now literally every girl is more than ready to throw themselves at him anytime, anywhere. Chan really didn't lie when he proclaimed 3racha as 'hot'.

You shake your head with a timid smile tugged on your lips. "I don't think so Bin, I'm having midterms on Monday, J.One can be saved later as my midnight snack whenever I wanna grill his ass for pestering me during the golden hour aka 3a.m."

Midterms sound good enough for an excuse because everyone would literally kill keep their A-s on those report cards. But unfortunately, you can't just play on the infamous SpearB that easily because apparently, being roommates with Hyunjin has absolutely nothing to do with improving your awful acting skills.

Just then, the most inappropriate, insufferable, infuriating, and other synonyms for 'annoying' clapback clicks inside Changbin's brain when an imaginary lightbulb pops up at the top of his head. "Man, you two are really out there banging each other in secret—"

And out the door he goes before you feel the need to personally stitch up his lips with your terrible sewing skills from elementary school. You close your eyes and takes in a deep breath, shutting the door behind your back while Hyunjin is too busy laughing his ass off on the couch.

This is getting to the point where you don't even need Han Jisung to be here to have the urge to strangle him, because his trash friends are no help at all.

two.

You step onto the bus with your earbuds on, right hand dropping the bus ticket into the glass box that's neatly placed right beside the driver's seat. Another day, another 4 hours of lectures and 2 continuous shifts which is another 5 hours at the café on campus, in which, sucks. But, what makes it even suckier comes right in three, two, one..

"Two people please !" A disturbingly obnoxious voice chirps right behind you. Just then, a figure dashes through the couple who are currently throwing daggers at him with their eyes. Not this again. You groans to yourself before sliding an extra ticket into the box because you definitely know better than to mess with a cranky bus driver. That boy over there really gotta pay for that shit.

Then, you take a seat beside the window, deciding to ignore the pest who just made you spend an extra ticket for his ride. You really should have taken another bus instead of the 325. Suddenly, a hand reaches towards one of your earbuds and pulls it out quickly. A puff of air hits your left eardrums like a rush of electricity, causing you to jump a bit.

"Can you stay still for a good span of 10 fucking seconds ?" You deadpan and and snap your head around. And before you - with slightly damp fringe covering his warm brown orbs, cute button nose and peachy lips ( gross ) - is Han Jisung. More accurately, the bane of your existence.

Jisung chuckles loudly at the big scowl on your face as he angles his head to take a proper look at you. You look like you just rolled out of bed, literally, not even metaphorically. Sweatpants, flannels and sneakers are the way to go if you're gonna be on your feet all day running around to serve sleep-deprived students and professors. Of course you look like a complete bum, it's 9a.m. What did he expect ?

"Aw." He pouts. "Where's the fun in that then, little cub ?"

And when Jisung reaches a hand out to pat your head, you frowns at his particularly ridiculous nickname for you and slaps his hand away. He watched the new remake of 'The Lion King' before the new semester started and cried like a total baby when Mufasa fell off the cliff, said Felix. Honestly, you wouldn't blame him because those devastating thirty seconds remain to be the most heartbreaking scene that Disney has ever invented. But still, the nickname is painfully unoriginal.

"Man, I hope you bombed your midterms or something." You speak up flatly, a slightly better retort lingering at the tip of your tongue but you're far too tired to argue with him anyway. And not to mention, your previous statement is completely useless because if Hwang Hyunjin is that kid who works his ass off to get good grades then Jisung is the complete opposite of that. He can sleep through ten lectures and still get a minimum of 90% on his exams. The perks of being a prodigy since newborn, can't relate.

Jisung feigns a painful expression, scrunching his nose up in fake agony. "How supportive of you, so incredibly validating." He cocks his head upwards carelessly, giving you a full view of his side profile.

Okay. Despite his annoying personality and questionable nicknames for everyone then Han Jisung is kinda attractive. You get it, you get it, Hwang Hyunjin is attractive but this prick is another kind of attractive.

Whenever he screams his heart out at the mic on stage, there are literal silver and gold specks floating in his eyes like an explosion of stardust scattered across the whole universe. And the way he conveys his emotions into his lyrics to perform an entire song on stage is just tremendously remarkable. No wonder all the girls always come rushing in when J.One is on stage.

Wait, were you thinking about Han Jisung or J.One ? But no, Han Jisung is J.One. It's just that J.One is slightly cooler than Jisung because he doesn't pester people until they have a cardiac arrest. Whatever, your brain is already yelling for retirement.

"You are coming to watch my performance right ?" Jisung suddenly leans over, your noses almost touching. Being the idiotic person that you are, your body immediately locks itself in place, hissing slightly at the current proximity. Great, now what ?

"Ooh." A low whistle escapes his lips. "You were too busy checking me out. It's okay, that's understandable. Not everyone can have a close-up of J.One's out-of-this-world visual." He flips his imaginary long hair and you make a gagging noise.

"I was not !" You exclaim upon embarrassment, cheeks turning into a bright shade of coral. "There's just something in your teeth."

"Uh huh, I doubt it." Yeah, he would never buy that. Jisung smiles at you cheekily and once again, Han Jisung has proved that he's the kind of guy who has the particular type of smile that makes you want to knock their teeth out. Although you can't help but fall for it nonetheless. Very typical of you. "So, are you coming or nah ?"

Your heart tingles a bit, and you feel like you can just pass out right here right now on this stupid bus in the middle of this stupid conversation with his stupid boy and his stupid smile. "No, I have my midterms on Monday. Guess who's pulling all nighters again ?" You push his face away because if not, you might as well just explode and make a fool of yourself.

"Ahhhh, why not ?" Jisung whines as if there's no tomorrow. "It's not like you enjoy drowning yourself in Kang's 40 slides of 'History of Media 101' anyway." Now, for once in a fairly long time, the bastard finally said something that wasn't complete bullshit. And you're starting to reconsider your decision because although Han Jisung is undeniably insufferable, J.One can make it up with his dope performances. But then again, you really just don't want to see his face on Saturdays.

Suddenly he rolls himself over again, his lips drawing a devilish smile. You can tell already from the dangerous look in his eyes, it's not going to end well.

"Are you in for a bet ? If I win, you'll have to go. But if you win, I'll do whatever you want me to, for an entire week. You're basically the privileged one here, don't even deny it."

three.

Changbin wakes up from his long nap to find Chan having his eyes glued to the laptop's screen as if his life depends on it. It makes him wonder how long his friend has been working on the rearrangement of all their songs for this Saturday's music festival.

"I see that you're making quite the progress." He grunts slightly before sitting up straight. The small faux leather couch that their school has in the band practice room isn't exactly the most comfortable thing to sleep on. But after what seems like an eternity in the lecture hall, tolerating the professor's rant then Changbin wouldn't even mind sleeping on the floor.

Chan slowly peels his eyes away from the screen and blinks numerous times so that he won't potentially go blind. He looks over at Changbin's slouch figure on the couch, tapping away on his phone and smiles dumbly at some memes that Minho just DM-ed to their group chat.

"Damn right, I just finished chopping up the bits of back-up vocals. I feel like my back is so fragile that it might break in half if I stand up." He runs a hand through his mop of black hair that's nowhere near the definition of 'doable' and yawns into his other palm.

He peeks over his shoulder to see Hyunjin and Felix sleeping while leaning against the mirror, Minho laying on top of Jeongin as he chuckles creepily at his phone. And Woojin is too busy singing his heart out with his guitar in the corner to notice Seungmin capturing everyone in their greatest glory, meaning when they're all a hot mess.

Changbin swings his legs over and slips into his black Adidas slides, walking over to Chan in a sluggish manner. He crouches down a bit while squinting his eyes to take a proper look at the laptop screen. Chan indeed has finished most of it, no wonder he looks ( and probably smells ) like trash. "I'll give you a hand, just send these over to me after when you got home." He says, giving his friend a pat on his back.

"Yeah sure," Chan puts a hand over his mouth to cover up another yawn. "By the way, where the fuck is Jisung ? He hasn't been answering my texts all morning."

Changbin gives him an indifferent shrug. "He said he would be on campus all day on Thursdays since he has classes and work right after- hold on he's texting me."

[ 5:23pm ]

piece of shit : where are you guys ?

baby changbin : band room, clearly you never listened.

[ 5:24pm ]

piece of shit : yeesh, I was busy you ass. texting y/n and all.

baby changbin : it was fucking 3a.m. !

[ 5:25pm ]

piece of shit : whatever, we'll be there in two.

He pauses for a while and lets the words sink in. Why "we" and not "I" ? Since when this was a plural thing ? Did all of those lectures and serving sleep-deprived students fuck up his brain cells ?

Wow, now Changbin feels bold to assume that Han Jisung even own brain cells. And before he can show the texts to the rest of his friends to make fun of Jisung while he's not here, the glass door swings open. Hyunjin and Felix jolt up in surprise at the same time, almost bumping their heads together at the creaking sound.

"We got you kids boba, wake up wake up hurry hurry SCHNELL !" Jisung screeches loudly when he pushes himself through the front door, accidentally making you bump your forehead into the dull glass surface.

You follows him inside with a big scowl on your face, quickly passing Changbin the plastic bags. Yes, you can hear the polar bears crying in the distance loud and clear but unluckily you only have two hands for ten cups of boba.

"Why boba all of a sudden ?" Minho looks up from his phone in boredom as Jeongin is utterly dying underneath, slapping his palm repeatedly against the floor in exhaustion.

Minho feels ( kinda ) bad for him and decides to roll himself over, setting Jeongin free from his miserable state. "Did you two go on a date or something ?" The youngest one's features morph into a frown, eyeing the two up and down in caution when he crosses his legs together.

You make an unimpressed face and glares at Jisung, who's currently hogging the entire black couch on his own. "Who the fuck would make their date carry everything then ? You tell me Jeongin."

Woojin stands up after craning his neck and shakes his head in disapproval. "My greatest disappointment, Han Jisung, would do that unfortunately." He walks over to Felix and Hyunjin to get himself a cup from the bag.

"Let's be honest, you'd still date him even if he does that anyway. I haven never seen any other girl who has the courage to personally rummage through his disastrous closet just to steal a hoodie." He takes a sip and smirks at the black hoodie that you're wearing. Woojin thinks you should definitely give yourself more credit because personally, he can't be bothered to step into Jisung's room, much less his closet.

You're still slightly confused for a moment there but quickly look down and almost gasp in realization. "I can explain—"

"Don't worry Y/N, if he ever mistreats you, you best believe that he's not gonna see tomorrow's daylight." Felix supplies unhelpfully over a mouthful of boba. Since when did he become such a nuisance ? But he's not entirely wrong because if no one volunteers to skin Jisung alive when he leaves you with a broken heart then Hyunjin will literally disown him. He doesn't care if it's legal or not because even a law student like Woojin would be on his side in this.

You hold up your hand defeatedly. "The jerk purposely left it on my couch back at the apartment. And Hyunjin didn't want to return nor wash it so I was obligated to do that myself. Eventually, the hoodie just ended up on a hanger right behind my bedroom door. Not to mention, I was running late earlier and had nothing to wear." You finish your sentence, realizing that your roommate has been giving you a 'wtf' face all his time.

"Out of reasons already ?" Chan chirps, raising a dark brow.

Okay.

In your defense, it's a goddamn good hoodie. The material is actually really nice that you might accidentally fall asleep if you wear this to class. You didn't mind the design on it either, kinda boyish but very funky, almost hippie looking. And last but not least, the smell of it is intoxicating, leaving you yearning for more. That's also equivalent to Jisung smells nice ( ew ) and your cheeks automatically heat up at the thought of feeling like he's hugging you whenever you wear it.

You frantically try to explain with expressive hands. "Look, guys—"

"You're going this Saturday !!" Jisung's voice suddenly booms behind your back as he declares loudly like it's the most worth-knowing thing in the whole wide world. The guys trade confused look with each other, not knowing what nonsense their friend is babbling about. Whatever, they don't have to either way. "You're going, you're going, you're going !"

You look over at Hyunjin's cup in disbelief, completely full and untouched. Meanwhile, Felix has already finished his drink in between the 15-minute conversation. You blinks and quickly comprehends the new amount of information, you lost the bet. Which means...

Screw midterms.

four.

Screw the music festival, you’re not going anywhere.

“How’s this ?” Hyunjin steps out from his room with a white dress shirt tucked inside his skinny jeans. And you hate him even more now because your roommate looks totally #boyfriendmaterial in every outfit that he’s been trying for the past half an hour. Really, Hyunjin should give himself more credit for his looks because you bet girls would still throw themselves at him even if he showed up to school looking homeless and all.

You look up from your phone in boredom. “Looks good to me.”

Upon your flat reply, Hyunjin shoots you a glare. “Good ? It only stops there at ‘good’ ? Then which item in my closet appeals to you as ‘spectacular’ or ‘breathtaking’ ? Should I just hire a personal stylist or something ?” He wants to snap at you but ends up whining like a elementary school kid that’s not allowed to drink his favorite soda from the vending machine.

“Dude, eat a chill pill.” You frown slightly at his particularly dramatic ass ( tsk, drama majors ) and decide to put your phone down. “You’re going to a music festival, at uni. Not attending some kind of award shows for celebrities.”

Hyunjin snickers before clicking his tongue. “And you’re planning on wearing that ?”

Your roommate is stressing himself over being overdressed for an event. You, on the other hand, haven’t even made up your mind about an outfit yet and your plus-one is picking you up in less than 30 minutes. And you’re still here, on the couch, in your pyjamas. Call it madness but personally, you wouldn’t mind wearing this to the music festival. Music is technically art in some kind of shape or form and only uncultured swines judge those who prefer being comfy over fashionable.

Come on, it’s art. Your pyjamas can express yourself in some sort of way right ?

“Stop shitting on my Mickey Mouse sweatpants as if it’s something straight out of the 1910s.” You protest, urging to throw the jar filled with gummy bear on the coffee table at his precious face. Mickey is definitely not going anywhere since you guys have been bonding since middle school.

Hyunjin pauses in the middle of his track going back into his room. Suddenly he turns around and smiles at you creepily. “It’s Jisung, isn’t it ?”

Yeah, no. Most definitely not. Still not him. Nuh uh. Okay… Maybe it’s because you don’t want to embarrass your plus-one because he’s also a total heartthrob. Maybe, it could be something about the fact that you’re afraid you’re not gonna look as good as your roommate. Or maybe it’s something inside the can of Redbull that you downed last night while rewatching the last episode of ‘Goblin’. You don’t even like Redbull.

Shit, you’re running out of excuses already.

“Actually, I was thinking that it’d be better if I didn’t show up.” You confess timidly, scared to meet Hyunjin’s confused expression.

When you gather enough courage to look up, he looks absolutely unimpressed and partially disappointed. “And you’re just gonna rain-check on Choi Yeonjun like that ? Changbin’s not letting this slide, I’ll tell you that.” He shakes his head in disapproval, this time turning on his heels to walk towards his bedroom door.

Something inside your stomach is tickling, as if it’s trying to tell you that you’re about to commit some kind of unforgivable sin if you don’t go to the festival. And just when you’re about to ignore it and wrap yourself up warmly on the L-shaped couch like the lazy bum that you are, your phone buzzes.

[ 4:24pm ]

yeonjun | I’ll be there in five.

five.

Only losers go to a music festival without a plus-one.

Hyunjin is one lucky bastard because Seungmin is tolerating his ass for the day. Meanwhile, Woojin is too busy pestering Felix to let him sneak into backstage looking for Changbin. And by now, everyone probably knows that Minho is secretly obsessed with Jeongin since he's decided to stick himself to the youngest like the spoiled parasite that he is. But that's not the point. Point is : you're terrible at navigation so you're obligated to get yourself a plus-one.

And he just happens to be Choi Yeonjun, that one business major who's secretly a dancer that left everyone's wig flying to Africa during last year's prom. You two have walked past each other before between periods and since he's an acquaintance of Changbin, he'd always wave back at you with the sweetest smile. You see him as a fun person to be around, kinda like a sunshine.

But what you didn't know is that, if your group of friend's chaotic energy is 3000, then Yeonjun alone is already on another level.

"Why the long face Y/N ? Enjoy the music, relax, let the night set you free !" Yeonjun chuckles at the frown on your face as he swings an arm over your shoulder. You can already tell that he's getting a bit tipsy from his tinted red cheeks and his breath smells like beer. Never knew the guy couldn't go heavy with his alcohol. Much like your roommate himself.

You peel the red plastic cup away from his hand to abandon it on some random table, dragging him away from the bar before his friend - Beomgyu, offers him some kind of sketchy looking drink. The kid is only a freshman and you feel like you should strangle the person who permitted him to be the bartender for the night.

"Alright, that's enough beer for you." You tell him mild-seriously, partially because you don't want him to end up knocked out in the middle of nowhere and partially because you can't contain someone who's drunk, not even yourself. "Let's find Soobin, I bet he's running around campus looking for your ass."

"What do you mean he's looking for my ass ? He's at home playing stupid boardgames with stupid Taehyun." Yeonjun slurs, shaking the haziness away furiously before fluttering his eyes upwards. "Look !" He squeals a little bit too loudly for anyone's liking. "It's your boyfriend !"

You abruptly put your index finger on his lips. "Shh shhh ! Han Jisung is not my boyfriend ! Watch your mouth, please, I beg." You hush him and glance around to look for any signs of Hyunjin or Felix popping out from a random bush to make fun of you. "We're barely friends, why would you think that we're dating ?!" You cry dramatically, cheeks burning with a bright shade of pink.

The blue haired boy makes a thinking face, which you think it's undeniably cute, before pointing towards the stage. "Because he's looking at you ?" He says cluelessly, giggling while clapping happily like a seal.

You unconsciously lift your head to eye the stage. Time seems to stop when you realize Jisung has been staring at you all this time. His expression is unfathomable. Your heart starts thundering loudly inside your rib cage, so loud that it overcomes the loud EDM music in the background, so loud that you're afraid he might hear it even when he's so far away.

In this light, in the middle of your chaos, there is Jisung. And he's absolutely otherworldly, radiant, dazzling, coruscating. Gosh, you can go on forever if your brain cells allow you to.

The moment he breaks eye contact, that's when you're pondering over who is it that your heart is beating for. Han Jisung ? Or is it just J.One ? Because you've seen Jisung as a total pest who never takes things seriously, who always makes you pay an extra ticket for his ride to uni, who spontaneously sends you derp pictures of him in the middle of a lecture. But no matter where you go, he would constantly pop up inside your mind out of nowhere. Like a phantom.

Suddenly, Chan's voice booms through the speaker, making you jump. "The performance of 3racha will be delayed due to technical errors. We apologize for this inconvenience." You stand there dumbly, blinking numerous times for his words to sink in. The question here isn't really 'what?' but 'why?'. 3racha take music very seriously and they're not the type to slack off any performances even if it's just for a school's small event.

You snap your head back to the stage, Chan and Changbin are talking to a technical staff, an apologetic smile blooming on their faces. But wait, where the fuck is Jisung ?

"Told ya !" Yeonjun hiccups into your ear. "What kind of non-boyfriend will cancel a performance just to come and see you like this ?" You should have gone with Hyunjin, you really should.. You bet he's not even half as drunk a Yeonjun right now since all Seungmin drinks is kombucha.

Unexpectedly, and also expectedly, you find yourself staring at Jisung, who's speed-walking towards your direction, like a complete dumbass. There's fire flickering at the back of his irises, burning intensely onto you. His brows are knitted together, his jacket hanging slightly over his shoulder, teasing you with a flash of his biceps. You also notice how the microphone is still there, in his hand.

Did he fucking leave the stage just to see you ?

Jisung breathes out a puff of smoke from the chilly air. "Y/N, got you."

Your heart actually feels like it’s hanging on the edges when your name rolls off his tongue so tenderly. "And you are ?" He looks over at Yeonjun with an almost disgusted expression, his hand instinctively reaching for yours. You don't blame him either way because Yeonjun looks like he just made it out of one of the world's most traumatizing lunatic asylum with shitty security. And Jisung wouldn't let you walk around with a crazy guy attached to you like a total creep. Not when he's monitoring.

“Y/N’s plus-one ?”

“Well that makes two of us.”

Yeonjun holds his hands up as if he's being held at gunpoint. "Easy, dude, I'm leaving. I'm leaving. She's all yours." He laughs, sounding almost too nervous to be true because Jisung is somewhat scary whenever someone gets on his bad side. Just ask Highschool Hyunjin.

"You're wasted as fuck, what makes you think that I'll let you go home alone like this ?" You say, flinching slightly when you feel Jisung tightens his grip on your hand. He cocks a brow as if he's testing you.

"Nah, I'm not going anywhere. Just gonna swing by the bar, Beomgyu probably came up with something to knock me out." Without a proper goodbye nor a hug like his normally playful self usually does, the blue haired boy turns on his heels to walk away from the scene. And you exhale deeply out of relief, not because you hated Yeonjun's company, you might actually hang out with him again. Just not where there's alcohol.

Jisung still hasn't let go of your hand yet, and surprisingly, you don't want him to. "I take that as you two aren't dating ?" He questions, studying your features more closely. You're really pretty, he thinks. Jisung has never once hesitant about using the word 'pretty' for you and he's not afraid to show it either. It's just that you never bothered to notice.

"No ? Hyunjin decided to ditch me for Seungmin and Yeonjun's a mutual friend through Changbin so we texted, and he picked me up after when Hyunjin left." You give him a weird look, confused by how pissed off he looks right now. "And I take that as you're jealous ?"

Jisung laughs humorously, his voice doused in dry sarcasm. "Huh, funny. Last time I checked, you were supposed to be backstage with me since you lost the bet, not clinging yourself onto some hot guy from Changbin's Biochem 101." Of course Jisung is pissed off. How could he not when you're all smiling and laughing with another guy, when he has an arm over your shoulder, holding you so lovingly, so tightly ? Another guy that's not him.

You widen your eyes at how ridiculous he sounds, almost in disbelief. "Excuse you ? Since when 'being backstage with you' was even a thing in our bet ?" Yeah, completely unheard of. "And I was not clinging onto him, I'll have you know that he chugged on a bottle of Hennie and ended up wobbling around like a fucking toddler !"

Your voice is getting louder and louder by the second, chest heaving up and down in anger because he is in fact, being extra insufferable tonight. You haven’t seen him acting like this since he officially declared cold war with Hyunjin back in junior year highschool.

"Oh yeah ? Then what ? You liked that ? It makes me sick to the stomach seeing you giggling at one of his stupid jokes. You seemed so fucking comfortable even when he's this close ?" Jisung tugs in your arm to pull you closer, his cool breath fanning your forehead. Your cheeks unknowingly feel hot, but you're not going to admit it to his face. "You're completely okay with this ?"

You grimace a stiff smile. "Of course I am." Oh boy were you wrong.

"Even now ?" He places his hands over your shoulder to bend down, angling his face so that the tip of his nose is brushing over yours. His gaze pierces right through you, leaving you completely stripped and vulnerable. And you hate every single part of this. You hate how you heart is swelling, how his touches burn like fire, how much effect he has on you with such minimal effort.

Jisung says with a devilish smirk blooming on his lips. "Hmm ? I don't know Y/N, you look pretty burnt up to me."

"It's because of the heat—" You instantly regret what you said when it starts to rain. Droplets of water repeatedly tap against your skin like clear champagne. A cloud shadows over you two and another splatter of rain comes along. Goosebumps rise on your skin at the cool sensation as your limbs lock themselves in place. Jisung has never broken eye contact with yours since then, specks of good and silver floating in his eyes like a brilliant explosion of a supernova.

Just when you thought your lips was gonna collide, something unexpected happens. Jisung takes off his jacket and swings it over your shoulders. He gently holds you by the waist as he hurries you inside, your gaze never once leaves his features. He's saying something but you can't quite catch it, it's hard to concentrate when he's being all affectionate and sweet to you like this.

You are far too busy telling your heart not to explode.

six.

Felix stomps over to your table and slams his tray of food down aggressively. Everyone peels their eyes off what they’re doing for the time being, throwing a weird look towards him. With a satisfied smile on his face, Felix drops his notebook onto the table. Changbin glances at him with an expressionless face, almost yawned in boredom. “And how did it go again ?” He drawls tiredly as if he has heard the same joke over and over for an entire week.

“You know that feeling when you feel like you’re completely detached from your own body and just stare at yourself from above ? I was up there, mind blank while my mouth couldn’t stop blabbering about what ever the fuck was on those slides. I ditched my Flashcards, completely untouched, 5 minutes has never flown by so quick. Boom, the professor didn’t even think twice about giving me an A.” Felix leans back on his chair comfortably after wrapping up his story.

Seungmin scrunches his nose at his friend. “Yeah sure, it’s an A. Big fucking deal.” Kim Seungmin basically has a full scholarship straight to college in the middle of his senior highschool year, you can say that he has the right to be unimpressed.

Minho shrugs indifferently, scrolling through his feed to kill some time. “It is for Yongbok apparently, give him a break. You know he hardly gets any when his brain only consists of Seo Changbin and Fortnite.”

Felix hisses at the older boy like a cat when you accidentally step on its tail, threatening to gouge out one of his eyes with the plastic fork on his hand. Minho being on his ass 24/7 just makes college that much more of a hellhole. He can’t help but roll his eyes in annoyance because no one is even trying to spare a ‘Good job’ or ‘Good for you’. He might actually need new friends, Felix ponders.

But wait, something’s missing.

Jisung didn’t even try to make fun of him. And he never missed a single chance to pester him or call him out every time he’s all giddy over good grades. In other words, his secret life as a potential nerd has been foiled thanks to Han Jisung. But apparently, girls find it hot when a nerd is secretly a dancer.

He looks over to his friend and frowns furiously. A hood thrown over his head, eyes glued to his laptop screen, Jisung looks extra antisocial today and Felix can feel something’s off because he would be jumping around, yelling into your ears by now, not making a PowerPoint presentation. “What’s wrong with you two ?” He asks, noticing how you’re also acting strange.

You’re mindlessly scrolling through Twitter, and stop abruptly at a new post from @j.one. It’s a picture of Jisung grinning while gripping on a microphone followed by a caption “Always have so much fun performing w/ my bros, @spearB & @cb97 - photo by @princehwang #SocialSaturday”.

You almost snickered, feeling the need to change it into “#TBT”. Not only because this photo was taken months ago for a summer music festival nearby Uni, but also because this bright side of Han Jisung no longer exists. He hardly talked to you since Saturday, ignored you when you made eye-contact with him on the hallways, didn’t even ask you to pay for his ride.

Basically, he’s making a fuss out of nothing. But you wouldn’t say that it feels good not having him call you ‘little cub’ 50 times a day or send you random messages during a lecture like ‘go out with me ?’. You never take them seriously anyway because he can’t like you just like that, right ? “Ask him, not me.” You raise a brow towards Jisung, earning a glare from him as a reply. “I’m not the one who’s being petty over me going to a music festival with Choi Yeonjun.”

Jisung sighs dramatically and shuts his laptop close. “Is that all you got ?” He inquires sarcastically as if he’s gonna set you on fire if you dare to try him.

“That’s what I said the first time we played Mario Kart together, isn’t it ? I totally kicked your ass, to the curb.”  You protest as the blood running through your veins slowly boils. If it weren’t for Hyunjin to hold your shoulders in place, you would have thrown hands at Jisung.

Jisung slams his hands onto the surface of the table harshly, almost knocked the whole table over. “Yeah, that’s why Chan never lets you drive because you’re exactly the reason for all of our wild turbulence. Because you suck at driving !”

You feel like you’re being held in a chokehold, literally and metaphorically because you can’t even drag Jisung down to the very bottom of Hell when you’re fully capable of doing that. Not before you kill him with your bare hands.

“I mean one of us had to have the guts to drive everyone back after a party where y’all got fucking wasted. College parties are so lit, they say. Who the fuck does three keg stands in a row just to run around the neighborhood shirtless later on ?!” You clatter loudly, earning a ‘wtf’ look from the students at the opposite table.

“Who wants another milkshake ? It’s on me.” Woojin interrupts the two of you, already pulling out his wallet in a rush.

Jisung’s ears automatically turn red, and you smirk at the sight of his pink cheeks upon both embarrassment and anger. “What did you just say ?”

“Ten milkshakes it is.” Chan drags Woojin out of his seat and the two of them helplessly walk towards the canteen cashier from across your table. He’s already given up, you can tell. Because if not, he would just personally hang Jisung upside down on a tree ( his natural habitat ) so that he can cool down before he said something he’d definitely regret later.

You push Hyunjin away and stand up right, staring at Jisung dead in the eye. “What’s wrong ? Cat got your tongue ?” Are you finally getting back at him ? Is this how victory taste like ?

“Say that again and I’m gonna— ugh ! Christ, I hate you !” Jisung sounds like he’s on the verge of exploding and you’re absolutely enjoying every single moment of this.

You mock him in amusement. “You’re gonna what ?”

“I’m gonna fucking kiss—“

Before Jisung could finish his sentence, Minho pulls his friend backwards and Jisung once again lands on his bottom, onto the wooden bench. “Okay, I don’t wanna ruin the heat but at least spare some of your sanity for the sake of publicity, yeah ? You know, if you guys wanna make out that bad, there’s always a restroom.”

Sanity ? For the sake of publicity ? Well, that changes everything. “WE’RE NOT GONNA MAKE OUT LEE MINHO YOU FUCKING BASTARD ! DON’T MAKE ME KNOCK KNOCK UPSIDE YOUR HEAD, YOU FILTHY PIECE OF SH-“ You’ve come to a decision that if Han Jisung doesn’t end up somewhere six feet under the ground, then Lee Minho - aka his best friend - is taking his bullet for today.

“Woah woah, Y/N, easy girl, easy.” Hyunjin holds you back with both hands. Okay, he gets why Jeongin doesn’t want to come over whenever you and Jisung are breathing in the same room now.

Jeongin scrunches his nose as he obnoxiously chews on his tuna sandwich. “Yeah, you guys need to cool down a little bit. You know, just chill out. That’s enough for your ‘friendly banter’, let the others enjoy their lunch in peace, will you ?”

You and Jisung continuously give each other death stares for the rest of your lunch break. Even when Chan and Woojin come rushing back with five cups of milkshakes each, even when it’s your favorite flavor in the entire world, it can never put out the fire of wrath that’s burning furiously deep inside. All you want to do is to have Han Jisung down on his knees and beg you for his life like how King Stefan did to Maleficent. The only difference is that Jisung actually doesn’t have a daughter.

Is that too much to ask for ?

seven.

[ 2:35pm ]

yeonjun | hey, I need to talk to you…

yeonjun | nearby café after school ? I can just wait if you’re getting out late.

You read the message on your way out of the lecture hall and widen your eyes. The hour displayed on your screen reads ‘3:45pm’. You immediately push your way through the crowd of sweaty students and run down the hallway like a psychopath. God, Yeonjun has been sitting alone at the café like a complete fool just because of you. Now you feel like a terrible human being.

“Woah, where are you going in such a hurry ?” Hyunjin yells at you loudly when you brush past him and Jeongin.

You hastily shout back at him before continuing to run. “Don’t wait for me ! Just spare me some left over !”

When you arrive at the café, you feel like you should give yourself a pat on the shoulder because you don't think you’ve ever run that fast before in your entire life. Not even for the marathon competitions during middle school.

And the café looks somewhat different today, something smells weird too, you notice. Then you realize that they just repainted the whole thing, replacing the old teal blue color into a warmer brownish color. The walls and windows are decorated with fairy lights, like a cherry on a sundae, it’s perfect for the upcoming winter break. Because students aren’t just gonna come here for the caffeine, they’re gonna hog this place for themselves sooner or later to get at least one aesthetic photo for the holiday.

You quickly spot Yeonjun sitting alone in the color while having his headphones on, slowly dozing off to the music. His cup of iced macchiato remains untouched with water dipping on the sides. A pang of guilt hits you almost instantly when you start walking towards his direction. As you sit down on the opposite seat, Yeonjun suddenly startles and shakes his sleepiness away.

“Hey, I’m so sorry, my phone was off all day.” You say with an apologetic smile on your face, feeling the guilt keeps piling onto your shoulders. “You could just leave or something, I wouldn’t be mad.”

Yeonjun removes his headphones and laughs slightly, scratching the nape of his neck. “It’s fine,” He waves his hands at you to tell you that everything’s okay. “I really need that short nap after all. God, I was dreading my neuroscience assignment all day. But hey, I really need to talk to you, that’s why I was so determined to wait.”

“Don’t even, Yeonjun. You could have just gone home and rest.” You shake your head at him in defeat. You swear to God, he’s too kind. “What’s so important that you wanted to talk to me so badly ?” You ask while flipping through the menu. The weather has been pretty chilly lately, it might be nice to have a hot chocolate.

Yeonjun’s ears turn red at your words and he starts to dart his eyes around, scared to meet your eyes. “I— uhm, look, I just—“ He stammers with tinted pink cheeks, which you find ridiculously adorable. “I just wanted to say sorry for what happened on Saturday.” He manages to squeak out and you have to hold back the urge to laugh. “I shouldn't have drunk that much beer, right ? You should feel lucky that I left you with your boyfriend because I may or may not have thrown up all over Beomgyu. He almost kicked me off a cliff, I’m not overexaggerating, I swear.”

That’s not true. Yeonjun should be the one who needs to feel lucky because not only didn’t Beomgyu leave him on some random sidewalks, he personally called Taehyun to bring him extra clothes and had an Uber to get them three back home before midnight. He knows Beomgyu is too utterly soft for him to murder him in his sleep anyway.

You smile at him before waving the waiter boy over to punch in your order. “Choi Yeonjun, it’s fine, really. You’re so much fun to hang around. But next time, no more beer for you, get it ?” Upon your teasing, he lets out a nervous chuckle. And little did you know, he’s planning on telling you something much, much more horrendous. “And how many times do I need to tell you that Jisung is not my boyfriend ?”

“Just not yet.” He corrects you, and you’re stuck between the ideas of strangling Han Jisung and throwing Choi Yeonjun off a cliff. Or maybe both. “You guys caused quite the scene during lunch break. You two bickered like an old married couple. Not to mention, you’ve probably ended up on everyone’s social medial by now.”

Your eyes widen in terror. A tape of you, and Han Jisung yelling at each other at the top of your lungs is on the Internet. Since a young age, you’ve come to realize that nothing on the internet ever really goes away. And that thought scares you shitless. Great, now everyone will think of you two as that one loud couple who always argue over stupid things. “I’m so fucking screwed— give me a sec, someone’s texting me.”

[ 4:12 pm ]

han | where are you ?

y/n | why would that matter ?

han | you’re on a date right ? with him.

y/n | han jisung are you watching me ? wtf you creep !?

[ 4:13pm ]

han | do you like him ?

han | just answer me honestly for once.

y/n | so you ARE jealous. hah, busted.

But wait, why would he be jealous ? That makes no sense.

[ 4:14pm ]

han | so what if i’m jealous ?

Your heart stops as a small ‘huh?’ escapes your lips. Yeonjun looks at you with a confused expression, almost develops a mild interest in what made you so flustered. But he guessed it either way because it’s too obvious who’s the only person that has this kind of effect on you.

han | i was the one who asked you out first, it’s not fair !

y/n | ...

y/n | hey, are you drunk ?

[ 4:15pm ]

han | i’m as sober as i can be, enjoy your pretty little date y/n.

When everything’s already a mess, when you’re at a loss for words, Hyunjin’s abrupt call is something else more than just fuel to the fire. “Y/N ! Have you seen Jisung ?” Your roommate sounds alarmed on the other end and your stomach automatically twists into a knot.

“No, I haven’t seen him since lunch… why ?” The uneasy feeling has been ghosting your gut since you received the questionable texts from Jisung, and you’re afraid to hear what Hyunjin’s gonna say next. “What’s wrong ? What happened to him ?” You bombard him with questions after questions, fiddling your fingers nervously in fear.

Yeonjun quickly senses something’s off and reaches his hand outwards. He places his hand over yours gently, rubbing little circles to remind you to calm down. There are a thousand bad scenarios running through your mind like lightning of what could have happened to Jisung. What if he’s about to do something stupid ? What if he’s hurting, and no one ever asked ? What if… it’s all because of you ?

“Hyunjin, just fucking answer me !” You almost snapped, finding the silence on the other line extremely disturbing.

He replies breathlessly, as if he’s already given up. “He’s gone.”

“What do you mean he’s gone ?” You can’t believe your own ears at this point.

Hyunjin sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. “Changbin said he hadn’t been home when his shift was supposed to end at 3. Chan said he wasn’t on campus either, nor the band room. We’ve checked everywhere, not his house, not the usual boba place, not even his favorite get-away spots. He ran away, Y/N, no one knows why. And I’m scared..” Your heart instantly drops to the pit of your stomach.

Not even his favorite get-away spots.. We’ve checked everywhere.

But Jisung would never tell them about all of his get-away spots.

eight.

Jisung unlocks his phone and sees several missed calls from his group of friends along with endless texts but his eyes only linger on some particular ones.

[ 7:23pm ]

y/n | can we just talk this out ?

y/n | this is so fucking childish of you.

y/n | I don’t care if you want to kick me out of your life.

y/n | I’m coming for you.

Jisung doesn’t know whether he should be crying or laughing. Basically, he’s emotionally restrained.

Because apparently, life is preposterous. One moment you’re laughing while being pissed off when he annoys the heck out of you. Then later you would ditch him to have yourself wrapped around another guy’s arms. Hours ago, you were on the edge of pushing his limits into the unknown and now you’re being all concerned and worried about him. He feels mildly exasperated partially because you’re playing with his heart, and partially because he allows you to do that.

He has been watching you from behind all this time. He always has so much on his mind that keeps him awake at nights but never really knows how to convey his feelings for you into words. Maybe that’s why J.One can only write love songs in vain. So being the genius person that he is, he thought ( and still think ) that the only way to approach you was to make fun of you. He can only call you questionable nicknames all day because he doesn’t have the heart to actually call you ‘babe’ in a genuine way. He would always end up spitting out something less than appropriate or stick his nose into your business because he can never fathom the courage to say a simple ‘I love you’. Yes, Jisung knows that he’s a coward for making such excuses but the thought of putting his heart into someone else’s hand scares him shitless. Not that he has never gone through a heartbreak before but the scars never really go away.

Honestly, Jisung has never thought that he would end up liking you this much. He still vividly remembers the day that you two met for the first time. It was freshman year highschool, he got signed up for a role in the drama club at the time being thanks to Hyunjin and suddenly he saw you sitting alone in a corner, struggling over a piece of prop for the set. 

Even when it’s the awkward phase, you took his breath right away like ‘whoosh’, leaving him utterly speechless when your eyes collide.  From then on, you’re the ‘nothing’ that people ask him about whenever he looks like he’s spacing out. You’re the only thing that keeps lingering in his mind, impossible to forget. He finally understands why people are always so giddy about their crush because once you like someone, everything changes. Like how your smile seems to be even brighter than the Sun, how your goofy laugh feels like music to his ears, or how every little thing that you do affects him way too damn much. Woah, he understands why his group of friends said that he’s so whipped for you now.

Jisung doesn’t know what to think or what to feel anymore. He really doesn’t. He hates how you keep switching between ‘the Y/N who hates Jisung with passion’ and ‘the Y/N who genuinely worries about Jisung’. It drives him nuts not knowing how you really feel about him. Jisung swipes his index finger upwards and presses the ‘Airplane Mode’ button from the Control Center settings. He can’t afford having Chan or Minho screaming directly at his ears after when he ran away like that. Maybe he is childish after all.

“Han Jisung !”

Jisung snaps his head backwards to find you standing there, disheveled hair, hands supporting on your knees with a glint of fierceness in your eyes. With the dim source of light from the Moon, you’re glowing under all of the sentimental glory that leaves him completely flustered. He’s really predictable, he thinks. Of course you’d know that he would end up choosing the park where he used to hang out with Seungmin since kindergarten. It’s also where he bawled his eyes out after his first breakup, having you rub little circles on his back and tell him that everything’s gonna be alright.

“What are you doing here ?” He asks soullessly although his heart his yelling at him to fall into your embrace.

“I told you, didn’t I ?” You say, breaths growing more even by the seconds. “I’m coming for you, I don’t care if you’re gonna kick me out of your life because I’m not allowing that.”

Jisung snickers, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “You rain-checked on Choi Yeonjun just like that ? Aren’t you afraid that he’s gonna break up with you tomorrow after finding you that you’re rummaging through the entire city to look for me, an absolute bastard who never leaves well enough alone ?”

You shoot him a stern look, brows slightly furrowed. “You didn’t let me finish, how rude. I’m trying to prove a point, don’t you see ? If I really didn’t give two fucks about you then why would I be here ? If I was really dating Choi Yeonjun then I could have just stayed at home and cuddled with him until Hyunjin kicked him out of our apartment. It’s been almost three hours, Jisung. Three fucking hours. I was running from place to place like a psychopath, got lost on some random streets, just to find you. Yes, just for you.”

He squints his eyes at you skeptically. “And your point is ?”

“I care about you.” You don’t even need to consider anything at this point and that has Jisung’s jaw dropped to the ground. “I could never hate you, even if I do, I can’t hate you for the rest of my life for my own good. Even when you call me ‘little cub’ fifty times a day, even when you make me pay for your ride, even when we almost threw hands at each other during lunch break, my feelings for you never change. Not even one bit.” You state confidently, taking long strides towards him.

Jisung looks at you with a blank expression, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t know Y/N. You’re a fucking hot mess. For all I know, you second-guessed most of your decisions in life. What if you decided to pull—“ That’s it, you’re not enduring his ‘what if’-s bullshit any longer.

Without a word, you grab Jisung by the collar and pull him flush against you. When your lips collide with his, it feels like you’re being sent to the Moon and back continuously. Sparks of joy, lust, and mixed emotions ignite inside his heart when you trace your tongue over his then it explodes like a firework that lights up the eerie darkness effortlessly. Jisung slowly gives in and melts into the kiss, his hands snaking around your waist to hold you closer, feeling your warmth radiating off on his flannels. You’re the first one to pull away, hands trailing behind the nape of his neck.  “I can say that giving away my first kiss is enough to prove that the only thing I’ve never second-guessed was liking you.” You say breathlessly, trying to ignore the rouge on your cheeks. 

“I am your first kiss ?” He widens his eyes slightly.

You scoff at him while trying to act casual. “Be grateful at least you brat.” Jisung chuckles softly at you, slightly taken aback at your bold action as the feeling of your lips on his chills him to the bones. “Point taken.” At that moment, you quickly realize how his warm brown eyes hold their own galaxy with the stars shining so brightly that makes your heart swell. At that moment, you also realize that Jisung is your Sun because his smile alone can light up the whole celestial sphere. Meanwhile you’re his Moon because no matter what happens, you’ll always be here to brighten him up on the darkest of days.

And you both know that as long as you have each other, you will forever be radiant.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

QE, inflation, slave labor and a People's Bailout

The Obama administration inherited a vast economic crisis. They responded with Quantitative Easing, pumping trillions into the finance sector to rescue the banks that had knowingly gambled on bad mortgages, losing so much they were about to go under.

https://www.cnbc.com/2017/11/24/the-fed-launched-qe-nine-years-ago--these-four-charts-show-its-impact.html

At the time, deficit hawks predicted inflation, which is a commonsense prediction: inflation is what happens when the amount of money chasing goods and services goes up faster than the supply of those goods and services, creating bidding wars.

They were right...and wrong. What we got was asset bubbles, especially in housing markets, driving up the price of putting a roof over your head rewarding speculators and landlords, especially Wall Street landlords.

And Obama's handling of the financial crisis put a lot of us under the thumbs of landlords! Obama bailed out the banks, but not the mortgage holders, kicking off waves of foreclosures.

Thanks to lax oversight, banks that had cheated to originate or service mortgages were able to cheat on foreclosures, too - stealing houses from borrowers who were up-to-date on payments or who were entitled to forebearance.

https://web.archive.org/web/20101017014628/http://news.yahoo.com/s/yblog_upshot/20101014/bs_yblog_upshot/is-david-j-stern-the-poster-boy-for-the-foreclosure-mess

I mean, literally stealing houses by the hundreds or even the thousands. The very same people who created the great financial crisis got bailed out, rather than punished, and used their new lease on life to commit even worse crimes with total impunity.

The houses that were foreclosed (and sometimes stolen) were flipped to Wall Street, who LOVE financial products based on peoples' homes. After all, people will move heaven and earth to keep shelter over their kids' heads.

https://www.motherjones.com/politics/2014/02/blackstone-rental-homes-bundled-derivatives/

Corporate landlords built a sturdy, three-legged stool to guarantee the flow of rents to their investors.

I. Jack up rents to consume the majority of tenants' income:

https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2017/09/wall-street-owns-main-street-literally.html

II. Cease maintenance, knowing that your tenants have no recourse if their homes are crumbling and unsafe:

https://www.reuters.com/investigates/special-report/usa-housing-invitation/

III. Perfect the eviction, heretofore an American rarity:

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2017-01-03/wall-street-america-s-new-landlord-kicks-tenants-to-the-curb

America's housing crisis - substandard homes rented at unsustainable costs to people who had their own homes stolen from them by the same investors they're currently paying rent to - is a major legacy of QE, and it's definitely inflationary.

But it's a highly selective form of inflation. Many people won't experience it at all: if you owned your house before the crisis and weathered it, the asset bubble has made your home more valuable, while falling interest rates let you refi at rock-bottom rates. You're great.

You're paying less than ever for a home that's worth more than ever, but that's a spillover effect of the main show, which is the process by which millions of Americans were robbed of their homes and then moved into high-priced slums to the benefit of the 1%.

Both Obama and Trump have boasted of the economy's performance since QE, pointing to soaring share prices - share prices that are totally decoupled from company performance. Companies lose money and still gain value.

Indeed, predatory companies (like Grubhub, Postmates, Door Dash and Uber Eats) that destroy profitable companies (restaurants) while still losing money are booming in value.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/18/code-is-speech/#schadenpizza

Investors understand that consumers have no money, due to rising housing costs plus crashing wages, largely thanks to the "gig economy," a polite term for "worker misclassification."

Companies that get bailouts would be stupid to spend the money on jobs or new productive capacity to make stuff no one can afford to buy. Instead, they buy their own shares and declare dividends, driving up share prices.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/20/the-cadillac-of-murdermobiles/#austerity

We have seen an incredible market bull-run since the Great Financial Crisis, a run that has largely continued since the pandemic. It's the other asset bubble: a bubble in investment assets.

Corporate leaders claim responsibility for these rises, but the reality is that it's the predictable result of bailing out banks and companies rather than workers and homeowners.

Société Générale's analysts say that about half of the stock market's gains since 2008 can be attributed to QE.

https://www.marketwatch.com/story/without-qe-the-s-p-500-would-be-trading-closer-to-1-800-than-3-300-says-societe-generale-11604688442

Top-down bailouts have multiplier effects. The banks are made whole, then they get to steal our houses, then they get to steal our rents, then they get to goose their share prices.

This is how the super-rich got even richer, before and after the pandemic. It's also why the tiny minority of Americans with adequate retirement savings saw them swell - it's another spillover effect of the great upward transfer of national wealth.

Why does all of this matter now? Well, between my writing my first paragraph and this one, Biden was declared, giving us what the Biden campaign signalled would be "Obama's third term."

Biden's taking office amidst a financial crisis that's far worse than 2008.

Biden has a long track-record of giving legislative gifts to the finance sector at the expense of the American people. They called him "The Senator from MNBA" for a reason.

https://www.gq.com/story/joe-biden-bankruptcy-bill

If he addresses this crisis the same way that he did in 2008 - the way that Congress and the Senate addressed the crisis in 2020 - by bailing out finance, not the public, we're seriously fucked.

Sure, the stock market will continue to rise and rise, as will house prices.

If you are in the 1%, you will get SO MUCH richer. If you're in the 10%, your retirement savings will swell, your mortgage will get cheaper, and your house's value will go up.

For everyone else: evictions, foreclosures, soaring rents, worse wages.

Last week, California voters passed Prop 22, safeguarding the right of gig economy companies to misclassify their workers as contractors and pay them sub-minimum wages, withhold benefits, evade payroll and unemployment taxes, etc.

Uber/Lyft spent $200m to secure that win.

As Prop22's promoters remind us: Gig work is the new unemployment benefit: it's a private-sector jobs guarantee, work you can get at the tap of your screen. It's a perfect labor market - workers effectively bid to offer the best price to perform servant work for others.

The more workers there are, and the more desperate their situation is, the lower the payments go. A lot of those savings are siphoned off by the (money-losing, stock-soaring) gig companies, but some of it is passed onto customers.

This is by design.

Since the Reagan years, neoliberal regulators and lawmakers have hewed to a radical anti-monopoly theory called "consumer harm." Under "consumer harm," monopolies are only a problem if they drive up prices.

Since gig companies lower prices, they are totally kosher - even if they secure monopolies through predatory pricing.

But there's an even more insidious side to "consumer harm" and the gig economy.

Misclassifying workers as independent contractors converts a brutally exploited workforce into a collection of "small businesses." If they get together and demand higher wages, THEY violate the consumer harm standard. They're a group of companies fixing prices!

We're 12 years into the QE experiment and it has demonstrated the relationship between government money-creation and inflation: inflation isn't the result of government spending, it's the result of government spending that leads to bidding wars.

Giving trillion to the rich created inflation in the things that rich people buy: our houses (out from under us) and stocks.

Now, imagine what a People's Bailout could do.

Imagine replacing the gig economy job guarantee (a workfare program with no workplace protections, job security or minimum wage) with an actual Job Guarantee as described by the economist Pavlina Tcherneva:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/05/the-hard-stuff/#jobs-guarantee

Federally funded, locally administered: good jobs at inclusive wages that served community needs proposed by community groups and approved by local governments.

Would that be inflationary? Recall that inflation is what happens when the number of buyers goes up and the supply of things they're buying doesn't keep up. Inflation is the result of bidding wars.

For a jobs guarantee to be inflationary, there would have to be a bidding war for the US workforce. That is the opposite of what we have now.

https://wolfstreet.com/2020/11/06/picture-emerges-of-a-weird-recovery-to-still-historically-awful-levels/

The reason no one wants to buy Americans' labor is that no one has any money to buy the things Americans make with their labor. The only people with money - the wealthy - primarily buy our homes out from under us, and stocks.

QE for the wealthy has made the economy incredibly perverse. Productive companies are being driven to bankruptcy by gig economy companies that lose money. Millions of workers compete to provide services for the lucky few, for dwindling wages.

Workers can't afford to buy stuff so companies have no reason to make stuff and so they become finance grifts, until they collapse, like Hertz did (after it converted itself from a car-rental company to an accountancy trick company):

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/27/literal-gunhumping/#hertz-uranus

The gig economy jobs guarantee can't last. Eventually the number of workers bidding to serve the wealthy will exceed demand by such a wide margin that wages turn negative - the depreciation and payments on your gig economy car will exceed your income.

But a real, public sector, federal Jobs Guarantee? Yes please.

Paying workers good wages to do productive things that their communities need will create demand for the thing companies have decided not to make anymore.

In other words, it will enable companies to make profits again, and it will drive out the companies whose share prices soared on the expectation of losses (accompanied by dividends and buybacks). It will dampen the stock market, but improve the economy.

This will mean the end of those spillover effects - soaring house-valuations and 401ks for the lucky few - but those came at a VERY high price - vast un- and underemployment, the gutting of the productive economy, crushing debt for the majority.

America bought those house price rises and 401k gains at a steep price: it cost the nation its resilience and political stability.

If the goal of QE was to secure middle-class Americans' retirements, it was spectacularly wasteful.

A tiny fraction of QE's trillions went to middle-class retirements, while the vast majority went to making the 1% far, far richer. Most middle class Americans still don't have secure retirements - their dotage will be spent competing for gig economy jobs.

For the price of QE, the US government could simply have guaranteed the necessities of retirees: shelter, food, care. This spending would crowd out jobs, sure - the worst-paid, most precarious jobs, from fast food to gig economy "jobs."

It would make America into a country of secure and prosperous people, instead of food-delivery drivers and dog-walkers.

12 years of finance bailouts and 0 years of People's Bailouts have only exacerbated this, and the pandemic metastasised it.

When it comes to stimulus, America can't afford a third Obama term. We need to demand better of Biden - we need to demand a People's Bailout.

For almost* all our sakes.

*Offer not valid in America's richest ZIP codes.

[carriagelamp]

Book Review - Summer Summary 2020

I didn’t get around to doing an individual post for the books I read in June/July/August, so I decided to choose a dozen that I read over the summer... I’d separate the wheat from the chaff for you so to speak. Though like you’re about to find out, that doesn’t necessarily mean they were all good by any means...

Crave

My girlfriend got this for me to “tide me over until Midnight Sun”. Between you and me, I think she was taking the piss. Anyway, Crave is very... standard fare paranormal YA school romance with the added flare of being written by an adult erotica writer, meaning the rhythm and tone of this novel is fucking bonkers. If you want to read the novel without reading the novel, just take Twilight and the entire Vampire Academy series, shove them in a blend, and force down the sludge you get from that. Normal Average Girl Goes To Secret School In Alaska For Vampire, Werewolves and Dragons. That’s this book. It is so big and so so so bad. I finished it out of spite, please don’t do that to yourself. Unless you are really craving (hurr hurr) some top tier trashy paranormal romance, in which case... no judgment.

The Last Firehawk

The Last Firehawk is a Scholastic “Branches” series, written for beginning readers (grade 1-3ish, depending on the child’s reading level). It has short stories, big text, and awesome pictures on every page. Guys. I unironically am adoring this series. It’s simple and is introducing children to a number of classic elements in the fantasy quest genre, but it is so charming. Friends Tag and Skyla discover a firehawk egg, and species that is supposed to have disappeared long ago. When Blaze hatches from it, the three are tasked with going out and finding the magical ember stone which was hidden long ago by the firehawks and which could be used to defeat the evil vulture Thorn and his dark magic... I read the first two books to second graders who ate it up and read the next four books because I personally wanted to continue the series. If you have young readers in your life (or just want a fun kid adventure) then please try these they’re the literary equivalent of nibbling on a chocolate chip cookie.

Lupin III: World’s Most Wanted #3

All the kind people that still follow my tumblr and haven’t tried to murder me because of my Lupin obsession are not going to be surprised by this one. I finally read one of the manga for this series and honestly I’m delighted. Somehow even hornier than the show, but hilariously funny. I felt like I was reading a more adult version of Spy Vs Spy. It’s a bunch of short, individual bits/adventures with lots of visual gags and an artstyle that is really different and delightful.

River of Teeth / Taste of Marrow (American Hippo series)

I’ve talked about River of Teeth before, but I finally finished the American Hippo duology and need to sing its praise. This is an alternate history series composed of two novellas that explore the question What would have happened if the States had decided to import hippos as livestock...? Anyways, my pitch for you: queer hippo cowboys. That’s all it took for me to read it. You have a gay gunslinger who loves his hippo to death, a nonbinary explosives-expert / poisoner who is the main love interest, a fat con artist who spoils her hippo and is the only voice of reason in this entire series, and a latina mother-to-be who is the scariest assassin in the entire series and is obviously scheming. The four of them are brought together on a job to deal with the Mississippi’s feral hippo problem.

IT’S A QUEER HIPPO COWBOY HEIST NOVEL GUYS I DON’T KNOW WHY I’M STILL TALKING AND YOU HAVEN’T JUST GONE TO READ THIS YET.

Petals to the Metal (The Adventure Zone series)

The graphic novel adaptation to the McElroy family’s DND podcast The Adventure Zone. Most of you are probably aware of this? It’s a great adaptation, it hits all the important beats, shows off the characters really well, and still gets lots of good gags in even while condensing entire arcs into single book stories. This one is probably my favourite so far just because Petals to the Metal was one of my favourite arcs in the show... but you can also see how the art has improved and the chaos of the race is fun to see drawn out.

If you like The Adventure Zone but haven’t tried the graphic novels yet -- would recommend! If you’ve always wanted to listen to The Adventure Zone but don’t have time for such a long series or struggle to focus on podcasts then pick up the first book of this series (Here There Be Gerblins) and try reading it! It really is an enjoyable adaptation.

Pony to the Rescue (Pony Pals series)

I continued my April/May theme of reading old-school chapter book series to combat Covid Brain Fry, so I picked up a few Pony Pals books. I read these as a kid and always enjoy them -- there’s just something so appealing to a child about having a horse. It gives your child characters a level of independence and ability to explore that you wouldn’t get otherwise. These books definitely read young, but they were nostalgic to revisit.

Small Spaces

A really cool middle grade horror novel I picked up. Maybe it’s because I live around a lot of corn fields, but farm/scarecrow themed horror absolutely does it for me. One evening, after seeing a woman try to destroy a strange, old book, eleven year old Ollie doesn’t stop to think, instead stealing the book and running. That’s how she becomes wrapped up in the strange, sinister story of a cursed family and creature called the Smiling Man that seems to live out in the foggy fields. While unsettling, Ollie tries to remind herself that it’s just a story... but this becomes more challenging when her school bus breaks down one day out their own set of fields, and a fog is rolling in...

“Avoid large spaces. Stick to small.”

Snot Girl #1 - #2

A Canadian graphic novel series by the creator of the Scott Pilgrim series! I love his work so I decided to give Snotgirl a try, even though it’s not generally my genre. I’m glad I did! First book took a while for me to get into, but by the time I hit the second I was really wrapped up in the mystery and character development. Snotgirl is about Lottie, a self-consumed fashion blogger whose biggest struggles are dealing with her allergies, frustration with her fellow-blogger friends, and how entirely her self-esteem is tied to her “beauty” and how people view her. But everything shifts in strange and horrifying ways when Lottie starts taking a new allergy medication, meets a new friend... and then witnesses that girl’s death. Or does she?

Seriously, or does she? I have no idea, I need to read the third book. This book is full of intrigue, complicated relationships, murder (or not?), and a healthy dose of magical realism to keep you guessing. If you like slice-of-life, crime, and abstract reality then this series is world a try. Plus the art is gorgeous.

Summer Wars #1 - #2

I recently rewatched Summer Wars (still one of my favourite movies) and decided to read the two-book manga adaptation. It was a really neat little adaptation. The creator of the movie gave the writer free range to tweak things to fit better in a manga format, which means some movie elements were allowed to fade into the background, whereas other aspects were fulled into the forefront and fleshed out to a greater degree. It was very cool, it kept the same story but gave you new things to think about which I wasn’t expecting. Reading this as a stand alone works just fine, but honestly if you’ve never watched the movie Summer Wars you should give it a try! It’s a great mix of slice-of-life, sprawling family dynamics that I relate to a little too well, cyber adventures, and fantasy. Super feel good.

This One Summer

Okay, last graphic novel, I swear. This One Summer was... weird and intense. It’s a coming-of-age Canadian graphic novel that follows a pair of pre-teens who meet up like they do every year at their family’s summer cottages. You see them both in the awkward phases between childhood and growing up to become teenagers, as they’re confronted with things like maturity, friendship, self-esteem, family problems, and sexuality. A beautiful read, but probably the heaviest out of all the books on my list.

Wild Thornberrys Novelization

I rewatched The Wild Thornberrys movie with my girlfriend earlier this year, and decided I wanted to hunt down the chapter book novelization because I’m kind of a sucker for novelizations. Honestly, this was about what you would expect from the era. 90s/00s novelizations, especially young novelizations, are generally just a transcript of the movie without much thought or effort put into them to make them anything but. That’s what this was. It was fine, and it really let me revisualize the entire movie, but honestly you’re probably better off just rewatching the movie unless you also really deeply love The Wild Thornberrys.

The Willoughbys

I saw that Netflix had done a funky looking adaptation of The Willoughbys and I decided I needed to read the book first before watching the movie. This was a little bizarre, I’m still not sure how I feel about it. Over all, I think it was a net-positive experience. It’s an obvious satire on classic children’s novels, especially the likes of Mary Poppins (real Mary Poppins, not the Disney version) and while a little heavy-handed, it does a Series of Unfortunate Events vibe that redeems it. The story is about a group of horrible children (The Ruthless Willoughbys) who decide they are sick of their parents and would rather become Worth Orphans... and to do that, they’re going to have to dispose of their inconvenient parents, obviously. Conveniently their parents are also sick of having children and decide to do away with them as well. The Willoughbys sets up three (or four?) different subplots that are gradually woven together through a series of schemes and exploits. It’s definitely more ruthless (hurr hurr) than the Netflix version, which tried to make the children more sympathetic, and in some ways I think that’s a definite point in the novel’s favour. I’m not sure I would go out of my way to recommend it, but it was a fun romp if you want something short and off the wall (and a lot more fleshed out than the Netflix version).

[letterboxd]

How I Letterboxd #5: Will Slater.

Talking mullets and other manes with the man behind the internet’s definitive ‘exploding helicopters in movies’ catalog.

“Man cannot live on helicopter explosions alone. Even I need some occasional intellectual nourishment.”

A London-based PR man by day, by night Will Slater has a thing (and a podcast, blog and Twitter account) for movies that feature exploding helicopters. According to his Letterboxd bio, it’s “the world’s only podcast and blog dedicated to celebrating the art of exploding helicopters in films… as well as shaming those directors who dishonor the helicopter explosion genre”. As Will tells Jack Moulton, he also loves film noir, Wakaliwood, masala movies and much more. Just don’t get him started on the one action movie cliché that never fails to disappoint.

Sylvester Stallone takes aim in ‘Rambo III’ (1988).

First things first, have you ever had a ride in a helicopter? Will Slater: What, do you think I’m mad? Of course I’ve never flown in a helicopter! If I’ve learned anything from watching hundreds of films where helicopters spectacularly explode, it’s that they are a singularly dangerous form of transport. You never know when Sylvester Stallone is going to pop up with an explosive-tipped arrow and blow you out of the sky.

I’m going to say the words ‘the definitive action hero/heroine’. Who pops into your head first? No runners-up. Go. Snake Plissken, no question, for a number of good reasons. First, there’s the look: that eye-patch, the beaten-to-hell leather jacket and Kurt Russell’s lustrous mane of hair. Second, there’s the attitude: his contempt for authority, the drawled sarcasm and all-round bad-assery. And I also like that he doesn’t have any special abilities. Action heroes generally tend to be either musclebound slabs of beef—Arnold Schwarzenegger, Stallone—or martial arts specialists—Jean-Claude van Damme, Jackie Chan—Plissken is just a pissed-off, angry dude who’s trying to stay alive. He’s very relatable. Plus, I’d argue he pretty much invented the whole anti-hero formula that rules our screens today.

Kurt Russell as Snake Plissken in John Carpenter’s ‘Escape from New York’ (1981).

When did you start your podcast and which film got you into looking deeper into the topic? It was while watching the cheesily bad Cyborg Cop that I first had an epiphany about the weird and wonderful ways in which helicopters seemed to continually explode in movies. But the film that convinced me to start documenting the phenomenon was Stone Cold. If you’re not familiar with the film, it was an attempt to turn former gridiron star and mullet-king Brian Bosworth into the next big action star. It goes without saying that Stone Cold did not transform ‘The Boz’ into the next Arnold Schwarzenegger, but the film wasn’t a total failure as it features a helicopter explosion that is as brilliant as it is gloriously stupid.

And that was the prompt to start the Exploding Helicopter. I launched the website in 2009, and the podcast followed 2015. Since we started, our aim has been a simple one: to celebrate the strange and inventive ways that helicopters explode in films.

Motorcycle crashes into helicopter in mid-air, ‘Stone Cold’ (1991).

When did you join Letterboxd? What are your favorite features here? I’ve been around since 2013. As for the features, the stats are very cool. When you dig into your viewing history, you can learn some very revealing things about yourself. For example, I generally like to think I have a commendably broad taste in film, and watch only the most important and influential works from every decade, genre and country. But then you look at the data and find you’ve watched Thunderball nine times in the last five years, so maybe you’re not as cool as you thought.

We noticed that your profile faves are low-key and explosion-free, given your theme of choice. Why these four and not Die Hard four times? Man cannot live on helicopter explosions alone. Even I need some occasional intellectual nourishment, between watching whirlybird conflagrations. There’s a little bit of nostalgia tied up in The Ipcress File. I first saw it as a kid, and it made a big impression on me. It’s very stylishly directed, has a great John Barry score and a star-making turn from Michael Caine. I’m a big film noir fan and Sweet Smell Of Success is a beautifully sour tale of cynicism and manipulation. To borrow the words of Burt Lancaster in the film, it’s a ���cookie full of arsenic”.

Jean-Pierre Melville is my favorite director and Le Samouraï was the first of his films that I saw. What Melville does so masterfully in this, and his other crime films, is distil the elements of film noir. Basically, he takes the genre’s iconography—the gun, the trenchcoat, the fedora—and familiar plot tropes—the betrayed assassin, the heist gone wrong, the criminal doing one last job—then elevates them above cliché into something almost mythic. And what do I really need to say about Taxi Driver, other than it’s a masterpiece?

Now you say you shame directors who dishonor the art of helicopter explosions? Which directors did you dirty? Well, one of the biggest names in our hall of shame is Tony Scott. For a man who specialized in hyper-stylized, pyrotechnic-filled action movies, he flunked every helicopter explosion he filmed. In our eyes, one of the most egregious offences you can commit is failing to show the helicopter explosion. And in both Spy Game and Domino, old Tony cheats the viewer by having the chopper fly out of sight before it explodes. Now, I can accept such visual chicanery in a low-budget film, where they presumably don’t have the money to stage the scene, but what’s Tony’s excuse? If you look at his filmography, at one time or another he’s wrecked trains, planes and automobiles in spectacular fashion. But for some reason, he repeatedly couldn’t be bothered to give us a satisfying chopper conflagration. At a certain point, it starts to feel like a personal slight. Tony, what did I ever do to you?

In your immortal words, “a film is always improved by a helicopter explosion.” When has this been especially true? When you see lists of worst-ever directors, Uwe Boll is a name that always seems to turn up. And, according to the internet, one of his worst-ever films is the video game adaptation, Far Cry. Now, I’m not going to try [to] convince you that the film is a neglected classic, but it does have a very imaginatively staged exploding helicopter scene. It’s too convoluted to explain here, but take my word that it wouldn’t be out of place in a Fast and Furious movie.

What about the unsung heroes; the stunt artists, the pilots, the pyrotechnicians, the VFX wizards who have worked on numerous iconic action moments, all of whom deserve a shoutout? Personally, I don’t understand why the Academy doesn’t have a stunts category. But if they did, I’d be lobbying hard for Spiro Razatos to get the first award. These days, he works as a stunt coordinator on the Fast and Furious and Marvel films, but I’d like to draw people’s attention to some of his early work. Back in the nineties, he did a lot of work with PM Entertainment films, an independent company that made low-budget action films for the home video market.

They might not have had much money, but they put every cent on the screen with glorious, raucously inventive set pieces that were often more spectacular than big-budget Hollywood offerings. And remember: this was in pre-CGI times, so every death-defying detail was absolutely ‘real’. Go back and watch films like The Sweeper or Rage, and you’ll can see why Super Spiro has now graduated to these more prestigious gigs.

Narrow this list down for us: which is the ultimate most spine-tingly epic “we got company” movie moment? As you may have gathered, I do like an action movie cliché. When you encounter one in a film, it’s like meeting an old friend. And one of my favorites is when someone uses this classic line of dialog to signal that a car chase or a gun battle is about to start. I’ve heard people deliver the line in all sorts of ways–funny, scared, angrily and often just badly. But if you want spine-tingly, then you can’t beat Harrison Ford in Star Wars. He drops the line during the detention-block scene after failing to bluff an imperial officer. As soon as he says it, John Williams’ iconic score kicks in. It gives you the ‘feels’ every time.

“Boring conversation anyway.” Han Solo and Chewbacca in ‘Star Wars’ (1977).

And which action movie cliché can you simply not stand? Stop it: my hackles are raising just thinking about it. For me, the trope that never fails to disappoint is the ‘reluctant’ hero being convinced to take up arms and join the fight. You know the scene. Invariably, the hero has hung up their spurs and is living a bucolic existence ‘off the grid’, when a gruff buddy shows up asking them to risk almost certain death by taking on ‘one last job’. Now, dialog is rarely an action film’s greatest strength, and these beefcake actors generally are not cast for their dramatic chops. Which means we get subjected to the same perfunctory and uninteresting scene over and over again: “I told you, I’m out the game”, “Goddamnit, we need you”, “OK, I’ll do it”. These scenes just never work and are never less than painful to watch.

Which up-and-coming action director are you most excited about? In terms of up-and-coming action talent, I’d pick the director Stefano Sollima. I first noticed his work on a couple of TV series: the fantastic Italian crime dramas, Romanzo Criminale and Gomorrah. The way he composed shots really stood out, and it was clear he had a very cinematic eye. He rather reminds me of Michael Mann. He’s now on Hollywood’s radar and got to direct Sicario: Day of the Soldado the other year. And he’s lined up to make a Tom Clancy adaptation with Michael B. Jordan. I can’t wait to see what he comes up with.

Have you witnessed the glory that is Wakaliwood—Ugandan DIY action filmmaking—three of which make Letterboxd’s official top ten films by black directors? Which international films do you feel out-match Hollywood? I love the Wakaliwood films I’ve seen. It’s fascinating to watch action films from around the world and see their different styles and flavors. Recently, I’ve been trying to investigate Indian cinema and, in particular, what are known as ‘masala movies’. These mix action, comedy, drama, romance and dance numbers into one big, crazy, entertaining mess. They’re a unique experience. If you want to check one out, I’d suggest Dhoom 2. It’s bananas.

Can you believe there are only two female directors represented in your exploding helicopter list? Do you believe that’s due to systemic or thematic reasons? You have to say it’s systemic. Men have dominated filmmaking for more than a century. Until women have the same opportunities to direct and make films as men, it’s impossible to know what their interest may or may not be in blowing up helicopters. [Will has previously written about the search for “true gender equality in the world of exploding helicopters”.]

To address the elephant in the room, how has Kobe Bryant’s unfortunate death earlier this year changed the way you look at these scenes? Obviously, I appreciate that Kobe Bryant’s death was very shocking and a tragedy for his family and fans. But basketball really is not a thing on these grim shores, so it didn’t register with us unenlightened Brits other than [as] a sad headline about a US sports star.

What was your most anticipated movie event of 2020 before Covid-19 pushed every tentpole back? That’s easy: No Time To Die. I’m a huge Bond fan and as soon as tickets were available, I booked myself in to see it on opening day at an IMAX. But if the Daniel Craig era is synonymous with anything, it’s lengthy delays between films.

Freerunner Sébastien Foucan in the opening scene from ‘Casino Royale’ (2006).

What’s a fond memory you have in theaters related to the Bond franchise? I remember going to see Casino Royale. I was excited, but also nervous to see it. The Brosnan era had ended with the risible Die Another Day: invisible cars, kitesurfing and, worst of all, John Cleese’s awful Q. Since that had come out, we’d had Mission: Impossible, Bourne and the Triple X films, so it wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility that Bond might be finished. Then the first ten minutes of Casino Royale happened. And while that outstanding parkour-inspired chase was terrifically exciting, it also hit me like cinematic Valium. I suddenly realised I could sit back and relax, safe in the knowledge that 007 was going to be just fine.

Are you planning on returning to theaters as soon as you can? When would you feel comfortable? I’m taking a wait-and-see approach. I’d love to see films back on the big screen again, but I want to know more about how cinemas are going to maintain social distancing inside.

Finally, what three Letterboxd accounts should we all be following? Why not give Todd Gaines, Jayson Kennedy or Fred Andersson a follow? If you’re interested in genre films that are a little off the beaten trail, they’ll likely all steer you towards some hidden gems.

[presumenothing]

call it what you want

the toph and zuko fic that absolutely no one but me asked for (but i asked very nicely so here it is)

beware probable inaccuracies to canon and in descriptions of blindness

(AO3)

i.

On the third morning in a row they wake up like this, they don’t even need to exchange a look before agreeing (though any literal looks would have been one-sided and therefore admittedly moot, considering).

“Emergency measures?”

“Emergency measures,” Zuko confirms, and he doesn’t even startle at the way his voice comes out anymore. It does still take more concentration than it should to shift his feet into position – at least he remembers to go barefoot, now. “Uncle’s already up, I think that’s him in the tearoom upstairs.”

Toph punches him in the arm. Fortunately there isn’t anyone around to witness the (apparent) act of Fire Nation brutality, but also: ouch. “You’re gonna have to do better than that, Sparky, I have a reputation to maintain!”

“You’re the one with the firebending now,” Zuko grumbles, not at all under his breath. “Besides, I had to stop you from accidentally sparking off about four separate international incidents yesterday alone, so – hey!”

Toph doesn’t stop pulling Zuko along the corridor, but at least she does slow down, and he suspects the stride hadn’t even been intentional to begin with, just habit from usually being the shortest one in their group.

“Wouldn’t want you forgetting how to do your job, o great Lord Not-Sparky,” she retorts, but there’s no heat in it besides her customary snark, and despite everything Zuko finds himself weirdly grateful that it’s the two of them stuck in this situation and not anyone else.

(That doesn’t stop him from gleefully whispering I told you so! when Uncle turns out to be right where he’d said he would be, but Zuko figures he’s entitled to that much.

And if Toph is rolling her eyes, at least she does it silently, so. It’s a win-win, really.)

.

ii.

The first morning, Toph wakes up with the feeling that something is off, but it isn’t until she opens her eyes (not her first priority upon waking, for obvious reasons) that she realises how off.

It takes her three tries to swing her legs off the side of the bed and onto the floor – how the hell is her depth perception somehow worse with vision? – and the chill of unfamiliarly-patterned tile is what drives it home for her.

Not that the rest of it hadn’t been enough already: Toph knows the dimensions of her own body very well, thank you, because she’d always be running into walls otherwise. And then there’s the matter of not so much what she’s seeing as the fact that she’s seeing it at all, and not in the way she usually means the term.

But anyway. This definitely isn’t the room she fell asleep in, because that one had been heated and this one isn’t at all, because apparently firebenders were above needing or wanting things like cozy heating when they slept, however comfortable it might be. Which means that this is a firebender’s room… unsurprising, since they’re in the Fire Nation and all, but Toph is also starting to suspect that this is Zuko’s room. She’s still trying to figure out the shitton of information her eyes are suddenly tossing at her, but she’s pretty sure that what she eye-sees matches the layout she’d mapped out before with her earthbending – which by the way is definitely missing and not just her feet being temporarily numbed by the cold floor, and it’s not like Toph is freaking out or anything, but.

But. Okay. One thing at a time, Toph decides, and looks around until she spots something that has to be a mirror, hanging on a wall halfway across the room because of course it is.

Several false starts later, she eventually settles on memorising the distance and direction to it, before squeezing her eyes almost shut as she walks so that only a narrow band gets through because honestly, too much information. No wonder sighted people were always so distracted.

Toph only opens her eyes again once she’s finally standing in front of the mirror, and – holy fuck, she thinks.

Not because she’s Zuko. Or not just that, rather, not even that, because she is somehow in a body that she’s certain has to be Zuko’s the same way she’d known this was his room.

She’s heard that the scar on his face is bad, had even felt it for herself – how big it was, how much of his face it covered, raised ridges and unnatural smoothness that she would’ve recognised as wrong even if she hadn’t touched anyone’s face before, but.

But now that she’s seeing it, the scar stands out far more than she ever thought it did, a livid patch stark against the rest of his features that she struggles to tear her gaze away from, and if this is what it means to have sight, have colours, Toph thinks she might not want it anymore.

Which is when she realises that if she’s here in this body it has to mean that – shit. Zuko.

(The first morning, Zuko had woken to utter pitch darkness that refused to abate or even change no matter how many times he blinked or frantically rubbed at his right eye. He’d probably have fallen spectacularly on his face if he’d moved to stand – but Zuko hadn’t even tried to. Couldn’t, not with the blackness pressing down on his limbs like far-too-physical fear.

He’d managed to simultaneously convince himself that Ozai had locked him in some windowless cell for good and thrown away the key, or that he’d finally lost his vision to the burn damage like the medic had warned Uncle might happen all those years ago, in quiet harried words where they thought he couldn’t hear.

Then a hand had landed on his shoulder, and Zuko would’ve startled if there’d been anything left in him to startle, but then a voice – his voice? – had hissed by his ear, and he’d made out the words “Sparky” and “come on” and –

And that hadn’t magically made everything better except in the ways it had, because he still couldn’t figure out what it meant but at least he wasn’t alone in the darkness anymore.)

.

iii.

Really, it’d been plain luck that Toph had woken up so much earlier than usual. Or not, because apparently firebenders woke with the sunrise and she’s a firebender now, and this is already shaping up to be a pain, didn’t Sparky or Uncle ever want to just sleep in until noon?

Apparently not, judging from the way Sparky had already been awake (awake and well into panicking) by the time she located the set of guest rooms that she’d been sleeping in just last night. Firebenders, honestly.

(“It’s habit, I guess?” Sparky had explained afterwards with a sheepish look, so okay, maybe this was more a Lord Rise-and-Shine thing than a general firebender thing.)

Anyway. Whatever the reason, it gives them enough time to figure out a plan before the rest of everybody wakes up, at least once she finally gets Zuko to calm the hell down.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, still breathing in that careful firebendy pattern which would’ve been a dead giveaway to her. But at least he looks not-freaked-out now (in Toph’s definitely nonexpert opinion, anyway) and she figures they can probably depend on most people around them to be as unobservant as they usually are. “Any idea how this happened?”

“Nope. We could always take the day off, see if this fixes itself by tomorrow,” she offers with amazing generosity.

“Absolutely not!” Zuko answers immediately, because – oh yeah, right, workaholic tendencies are another firebender and/or Sparky thing. “I – you – we have a meeting with all the major Fire Nation officials this morning, and there’s that delegation from the colonies after that, and then – ”

(Toph sighs. Couldn’t blame her for trying, at least.)

They end up settling on having Toph-as-Zuko lead Zuko-as-Toph around for now, because Toph has standards, and she refuses to let herself be seen bumping into walls all day long.

Plus, even waking up early hadn’t given them enough time for more than a superspeed crash course on Fire Lording, so of course Zuko insists on staying with her so she doesn’t mess up and offend all the world’s leaders or something.

“One wrong word could – could restart the war,” Zuko squawks like the baby turtleducks that the kitchen staff pretend not to see their Fire Lord regularly stealing bread for.

“Heard you the first twenty times, Your Shortiness,” Toph says breezily, patting his head – and just to be clear, she’s still not gonna forgive Sokka for all the times he’s used her as an elbow rest, but she (or her body, at least) is really just the right height for it.

(There are a few raised eyebrows when the Fire Lord doesn’t walk into the meeting chambers alone, but it probably helps that basically everyone present has other much higher priorities, and most of them are already resigned to the Avatar’s group acting weird by default anyway.

Which is to say that no one questions the arrangement until they break for lunch, and then not even until Aang bounces over to join them from who-knows-where, because Toph’s pretty sure that the A in Aang (and airbender, and Avatar) stands for audacity. “Toph, are you holding on to Zuko’s shirt?”

Toph – actual Toph – opens her mouth to give a bullshit answer, but Zuko beats her to it. “Duh. See, somebody here lost a bet, which means he’s gotta be my seeing-eye person until I say so. Right, Sparky?”

Toph’s reluctantly impressed. Not only had Zuko clearly thought about this, he’d even said it with all the snark she would have, complete with a disturbingly wide grin (she’d looked).

She gives one of those indistinct-but-not-really-upset grumbles that Sparky uses a lot around them, and gradually falls behind the rest of the group so she can elbow him with her own rock-sharp grin (because she can confirm from experience that it’s audible, even if not visible). “I didn’t know you had that in you!”

“Yeah, well.” Sparky rubs the back of his neck, his gaze darting away then back, and there’s no aura of sass about him now. “You handled the meeting pretty well, all things considered. Especially that… Minister Takagi.”

“You can just say ‘asshole’, y’know, it’s not like you’re the Fire Lord right now.” Besides, it’d be way more accurate, with the deliberate way that minister had said something oily and barbed about Ozai that’d gone right over her head but still hit home anyway, judging from the way Zuko had tensed in the seat beside hers.

Toph had simply blinked slowly before savouring the brief but utter look of confusion as she responded to the rest of his speech while outright ignoring the comment like the completely irrelevant bait it clearly was.

Too bad, Minister Asshole. Better luck next time!

(And if her cheeks are vaguely warm from the compliment in the way she knows means a blush, Sparky can’t see right now anyway, so it’s all fine as long as she doesn’t spontaneously combust from embarrassment.

…or from being a firebender. Is that even possible? Hopefully not.)

.

iv.

“But of course,” Uncle says as he refills their teacups. “I would be glad to be your regent while you are on vacation, nephew. You scarcely needed to ask.”

“Like I said, we’re just going to Gaoling to speak with the Beifongs, and so Aang can do his Avatar thing before we route any of the withdrawing troops through there,” Toph says, and Zuko can practically feel the annoyance rolling off her even if it’s for entirely different reasons than his own would’ve been, in the same situation. (It does make for a more convincing act though.) “It’s not a vacation.”

“Of course it isn’t,” Uncle replies with great equanimity, while Zuko tries to figure out if his tea is cool enough to drink now that he can’t judge by the steam rising from it. “It is good to see you taking better care of your health in spite of your heavy responsibilities, nephew. I hear that the clerks are overjoyed to have paperwork delegated to them again!”

Probably about as ecstatic as Toph herself was when she’d heard about that option, Zuko thinks to himself, and snorts at the thought.

(Honestly, it’s not like the paperwork that reaches the Fire Lord’s desk is anywhere near as complicated as the incomprehensible hell of requisition forms Zuko had constantly wrestled with aboard his ship, but Toph had still cheered when all of it got carted away to the clerks’ office. “Why would you go through all that if you didn’t have to? You should’ve done this ages ago!”

“How else was I gonna learn the details of what’s going on?” Zuko had muttered, but he couldn’t blame Toph for this one, since – well. Reading and writing hadn’t been a big part of her education, as she’d put it. “I’d offer to do it myself, but…”

He’d trailed off, then buried his face in his hands because he was not finishing that sentence, because Toph Beifong might be the greatest earthbender of all time but she’s also the worst influence to ever exist and apparently Zuko isn’t even good at cracking blind jokes anyway. And he didn’t even know whose expense it’d be at, right now.

Toph had just cackled like she’d known what he was thinking anyway.)

They manage to make their escape from Uncle almost one and a half pots of tea later.

“Is it just me,” Zuko begins hesitantly once they’re a safe distance down the corridor, “or did you also get the feeling that – ”

“He knows?” Toph sounds like she’s frowning. “Yeah. I mean, I guess it’s not a big deal if he of all people finds out – but how, though? He’s barely even been around the palace since this started!”

“Maybe he could… see it or something, I dunno.” Zuko shrugs. “Uncle’s been to the Spirit World before, he did say some stuff about it changing his awareness of things.”

“But he’s not the only one who’s been there,” Toph points out, before they both contemplate Aang for a moment. “Though maybe the only one without the attention span of a catterfly, yeah.”

(“Which reminds me, when’s Sweetness due back from the North Pole?”

“Katara? In another ten days, if everything goes to plan. Why?”

“Because I’m gonna have her fix this shitty heartbeat of yours, I don’t even care if we’ve swapped back by then! I already thought it sounded weird after the whole lightning thing, and you keep saying that it’s fine but this is really not normal, we’re just lucky you haven’t had a heart attack doing your morning exercises or something equally ridiculous–”)

.

v.

They tell Aang what happened once Appa is up in the air and en route to Gaoling, but the airbender still sounds disbelieving for once, even after they land early to train and set up camp.

“Okay, you got me, very funny, no way you actually switched b– huh.” Aang pauses, even keeps still for a moment. “Huh. You’re being serious.”

Zuko doesn’t need earthbending to recognise the sound of Toph tapping her foot, and probably crossing her arms too. “Care to enlighten us, Twinkletoes?”

Aang bursts out laughing at that, so the nickname probably sounds as weird to him in Zuko’s voice as it does to Zuko himself, though he goes back to being thoughtful afterwards. “I can see it a little if I concentrate, yeah – maybe it’s an effect of the energybending, I dunno. Your colours are a little different to the usual earthbender and firebender ones, and I don’t think they were like that before.”

Zuko’s pretty sure Toph is thinking the same thing he is (that still doesn’t explain how Uncle found out) but out loud he only says, “Can we get started now, if you’re done talking Avatar stuff?”

“Right!” Aang agrees with an enthusiastic bounce, and Zuko now really understands why Toph gave him that nickname. “So Zuko, you need me to teach you how to earthbend like you’re actually Toph, and not you pretending to be Toph and earthbending like how you think Toph earthbends–”

“Yes, Aang,” he interrupts, trying to sound longsuffering instead of laughing, then points unerringly at where Toph is lifting a foot. “And you’re not going barefoot, Toph, I have a reputation to maintain!”

“It’s not like anyone’s looking,” Toph mutters, but her shoes are still on when she puts her leg back down.

(“Honestly, Zuko, I’m really impressed,” Aang says as Toph lights the campfire for dinner, and this probably shouldn’t feel comfortingly nostalgic but it does. “I mean, it’s obvious now that I know what’s going on, but you’ve actually been navigating really well? I think I’d have taken way longer to adapt if I had to see by earthbending alone, and I already know earthbending.”

“It’s surprisingly intuitive once you get the hang of it. And I think Toph’s muscle memory stuck or something, otherwise I’d probably still be running into walls. Well, more walls,” Zuko amends. “Besides, I guess it’s sort of like when I was adjusting my newly shitty vision, after – after what Ozai did.”

Zuko’s briefly proud of himself when he barely even stumbles over that last part, until he realises that Toph has gone still across from him, and there’s an alarming flash of heat that probably isn’t the campfire.

“Uh.” Aang sounds alarmed, and like he’s staring. “Toph…?”

“Are you seriously telling me,” Toph grits out between her teeth, “that my depth perception is so fucked up because you only have half your vision left.”

“It’s really closer to seventy percent,” Zuko answers on reflex even as he facepalms both internally and externally because how in the name of Agni had he forgotten to tell Toph about this? Yes, it would’ve been obvious to anyone else, and it’s simple fact to Zuko by this point, but of course Toph of all people wouldn’t have realised that his eyesight was abnormal seeing as (ha) she’d never had vision before.

The ground trembles from sudden stomping. “That’s it, forget Gaoling, we’re going back to the capital now so I can kick Scumbag Lord’s ass all over again – and no using earthbending against me, Twinkletoes!”)

.

0.

“Do you miss it?” Zuko asks, later that night.

No answer comes for a long moment, and he’s starting to wonder if Toph’s fallen asleep when he feels the rustle of her turning over.

“Which part, the earthbending? Or being a blind and helpless twelve-year-old girl?” The air quotes around those words are perfectly audible even if he can’t see them, but neither of them have ever been much for rhetorical questions anyway so Toph barrels right on. “One more than the other, and you’re damned lucky I’m well-educated nobility or I’d have thrown up all over your court etiquette by now.”

Zuko tries to imagine Katara or Sokka (or possibly worse yet, Aang) trying to act as the Fire Lord and winces – they’re amazing people and Zuko cares for them more than he knows what to do with, but he’s also heard all about Sapphire and Wang Fire by now, and just. No. “Thanks for that, Toph, you’ve been doing a great job.”

Toph punches him in the arm instead of saying you’re welcome like a normal person. “No need to sound so surprised. You?”

“Hm?” he asks, before his brain catches up with his mouth a moment later. “Oh. I…”

Does he miss it, being the banished prince turned Fire Lord? Being not just Zuko but Zuko, son of Ursa and Ozai and everything that meant?

Does he miss having people look at him and see the scar on his face before everything else, see the pure golden eyes and assume everything it implied? (Not that he knew for sure how people looked at him now, not literally �� but he’d seen enough of how they looked at Toph before, and it was always underestimation rather than exaggeration. And if it’d been just a year ago he would’ve been furious at that but now? Now, he’s still offended on Toph’s behalf because it’s not fair, it really isn’t, but he’s… surprisingly okay with it, otherwise.)

Does he miss fire dancing on his palm, sun-warm but never burning?

“…not as much as I expected,” Zuko says finally, and he doesn’t know how much time has passed but he can feel Toph listening for an answer anyway. “Except for the firebending, but I guess earth’s not too bad either.”

(Zuko doesn’t think he’s ever going to react anything but poorly to people touching him without warning no matter whose body he’s in, it’s a fact he’s fairly resigned to – but Toph’s earthbending means that pretty much no one but airbenders can really take him by surprise, and there’s only one of Aang. Fortunately.)

Toph snorts in a manner unbecoming of either lady or Fire Lord. “Well, fire sucks. If this keeps up, I might just have to become the greatest firebender of all time, too.”

Zuko laughs. “I look forward to it,” he says sincerely – this is the earthbender who’d learned from badgermoles, after all, even if she’s also busy snickering at his unintentional pun. “Tell Aang to bring you to go meet the dragons sometime, I think you’d love them.”

“Please. I’d rather ask Uncle instead, Twinkletoes would just be distracting.” Fair point. “And you’re coming with.”

The Sun Warriors might sooner feed an earthbender to the dragons rather than grant an audience with them, but Zuko nods anyway. “Alright. Good night, Toph.”

“Night, Sparky,” comes the mumble in reply, already half-asleep, and Zuko closes his eyes.

.

.

.

[possiblyimbiassed]

What happened to Sherlock? Part VII – The Importance of Being Earnest (1)

This is the seventh instalment of my meta series, where I’ll take a closer look at the two last episodes of the show this far. As you know if you’ve read the earlier parts, a premise for this analysis is that we’re seeing the entire show from Sherlock’s perspective; we’re literally inside the great detective’s head since Day 1, and he’s working inside his Mind Theatre where he reconstructs scenarios with different ‘actors’ representing different concepts and problems he needs to delve into, very much following his usual MO of crime solving. By now I also part from the assumption that from at least HLV and onwards Sherlock is trapped inside his own mind (EMP theory), possibly in some kind of comatose state, and in ‘real life’ the detective is hospitalized and close to dying. These conclusions are based on the different hypotheses I’ve already tested in the earlier installments of this meta series, which you can find below:

Introduction - The game is on (explains the method of analysis) Part I - Blog vs TV-show Part II - Re-living memories Part III - Drugs and weirdness Part IV – Heartbreak and coma (1) Part IV – Heartbreak and coma (2) Part V – Bizarre scenarios Part VI - Live and let die (1) Part VI - Live and let die (2)

The hypothesis to test this time is about Sherlock’s inner development:

Hypothesis #7. By TFP Sherlock has managed to figure out some essential things about John and the importance of staying alive, and he has managed to get in touch with his own repressed emotions.

I think this show – especially from HLV and onwards - might represent an important inner journey for Sherlock, where he tries to find out what went wrong between him and John and what could be done to fix it. On his introspective journey, he gets to learn a lot about John, but also about himself and how he comes across in John’s eyes. To test this train of thought, I’ll re-visit TLD, TFP, and some scenes from TST, to see what this might mean in terms of Sherlock’s Mind Theatre Simulations. But first of all, I’d like to present a background idea:

The Therapist

Judging by the total number of scenes with therapists this far, they seem to play an important role in BBC Sherlock. But which role exactly? And are the therapists we see even real? After TLD I think it’s justifiable to question this. At the end of TST we see Sherlock visiting John’s therapist Ella Thompson:

According to John’s blog - which I believe we can use as a sort of anchor to the show’s ’reality’ (see my Hypothesis #1) – John has indeed been in contact with someone named Ella Thompson, who I think we can safely assume is his therapist, judging by the circumstances in which John mentions her. Her name appears in one of the very first blogposts:

And then Ella herself comments on another post:

And then she is mentioned again when John has just met Sherlock:

She also begs him to “please answer your phone”, after the post called “My New Flatmate”, where we can find John’s first account of the events related to ASiP. As for the TV-show, Ella appears in person in the beginning of it, in ASiP:

In the taxi heading for Brixton in ASiP, Sherlock tells John that he deduced John must have had a therapist: (all quotes below are based on the incredibly useful transcripts by Ariane DeVere - my bolding):

JOHN: You said I had a therapist. 

SHERLOCK: You’ve got a psychosomatic limp – of course you’ve got a therapist.

Mycroft’s attitude towards Ella’s competence is a bit arrogant. Apparently she didn’t realize that war trauma isn’t the real cause of John’s trembling left hand:

MYCROFT: You have an intermittent tremor in your left hand. 

She thinks you’re haunted by memories of your military service.

JOHN: Who the hell are you?

Yes; how could Mycroft know this? Therapists are usually bound by strict confidentiality, and civil servants asking questions about clients’ health issues are no exception. Did he threaten Ella? Or steal the document? Sherlock’s brother isn’t even mentioned on John’s blog until ASiB, and in the show John never mentions Mycroft’s theories to Sherlock. If Mycroft represents Sherlock’s brain here (as some of us believe), and the kidnapping scene only occurs inside his head, then this is rather Sherlock’s personal conclusion.

MYCROFT: She’s got it the wrong way round. You’re under stress right now and your hand is perfectly steady. You’re not haunted by the war, Doctor Watson ... you miss it.

After this, nothing more is said about Ella for a long while. Until she seems to start communicating via John’s blog again after Sherlock’s ‘death’, when John publishes a blogpost titled “A New Beginning”:

I don’t think it’s farfetched to assume that Ella has tried to persuade John to keep up the blogging. Later, in the comment section of the blogpost “Death by Twitter”, Ella also interacts with the username “theimprobableone”. The impression I get is that Ella is kind, reaching out to someone who isn’t her client (even if this would actually just happen to be Moriarty :))) She might also be very competent, but the therapy won’t work unless the client actually collaborates. 

But in the TV-show we see a new therapy session in TRF, apparently 18 months after their last one, where John seems unable to tell Ella what actually happened to Sherlock, and why this has affected him so deeply.

Perhaps this scene is most of all Sherlock’s conclusion after observing on the blog that John was now back to Square 1 in his therapy with Ella? Which means he was back to ‘blogging-will-help’.

I’m gonna part from the assumption (according to my hypotheses #1 and #2) that the first two and a half series of this show represent Sherlock re-visiting his memories while reading John’s blog. He might be influenced by drugs while doing this, and he might ‘pimp up’ these memories by fantasizing about events he deduces must have happened, but where he wasn’t personally present. So he tries to mentally reconstruct what might have been said in these scenes. Since Sherlock isn’t present in the scenes with Ella described above, I think they might be fine examples of such ‘deductive fantasies’, basically constructed from reading John’s blog. (Regularly this is also an important part of Sherlock’s methods for crime solving by deductive reasoning inside his Mind Palace).

But in S4, at the end of TST, we see Sherlock himself visit Ella, although in a setting that reminds me more of a cathedral than a visits room for a therapist. The whole scene seems extremely ‘staged’, like a theatre piece. 

And when Ella tells Sherlock he has to open up completely for her to be able to help him, we learn two things:

Sherlock states that this is really not his style. In other words: he’s not ready for it, and

Sherlock thinks his main problem concerns John rather than himself. He believes what he really needs is to find out “what to do about John”.

Which might mean, in my opinion, that Sherlock now believes that ‘Ella’ won’t be able to actually help either of them. Conclusion, in Sherlock’s view: John needs a new, different therapist. And who has shown to actually be effective in curing John’s ailments - his earlier psychosomatic limp and trembling hands? Sherlock has. So, to continue testing this meta series’ earlier hypothesis (#5) about Sherlock running mind scenarios, and at the same time begin to test hypothesis #7, I’ll make the following prediction:

Prediction #1: If Hypothesis #7 is true, TLD could serve as an ‘appointment’ where Sherlock is John’s therapist trying to figure out ‘what to do about John’.

One interesting thing with TLD is that it both starts and ends with John visiting his new therapist. But in the end it turns out that this ‘therapist’ is actually Eurus, a ruthless killer who has disguised herself as a therapist (while the real therapist appears to be ‘closeted’ in a horrendous way). But I don’t think Eurus is ‘real’; she’s rather an aspect of Sherlock himself.

Sherlock might also assume that if he can’t protect John and John’s loved ones, he has failed John (hence his extreme sense of guilt and self-loathing after TST). But if Eurus isn’t even ‘real’, in which ways has Sherlock really failed to protect John? I think the real issues are:

He can’t protect John from being 'outed’ in media, who will speculate about his sexual orientation (the problem of TRF), which John has shown signs of fearing. Being associated with famous ‘weirdo’ Sherlock Holmes is ‘bad for John’ because he’ll drag John into media exposure.

By TLD, Sherlock has reached a mental stage where he cannot help John keep up his heteronormative façade any longer; thus ‘Mary’ will have to go, to disappear, which Sherlock believes will destroy John.

Below follows a series of possible ‘what-if’ scenarios, which Sherlock might be running inside his mind in TLD (and this is of course mostly my speculation). They are following the same pattern I used to test Hypothesis #5: 1. Detect possible initial questions, 2. Investigate possible elements of inspiration from movies and/or Sherlock’s own memories and 3. Explain possible results in the show from each of Sherlock’s mind experiments. Plus discussions about evidence that indicate this is indeed a MP scenario. But this time the scenarios are also ‘therapeutic’; this is where Sherlock tries to look closer at John and their relationship, taking over from Ella the job as John’s therapist.

TLD, Scenario 1: What will happen when John visits a new therapist?

Inspiration: We don’t know if Sherlock has experiences in this field, but since he’s addicted to drugs it’s not unlikely that he has some knowledge of therapy from rehab. In this scenario I think Sherlock takes the role of therapist himself.

In Part 6 of his Follow-the-dogs meta @sagestreet makes a good case for Ella being a Sherlock mirror (My bolding). ‘Thompson’ refers to a character mentioned on Sherlock’s website. (Does anyone know, by the way, what happened to that website? It has been down for months by now!): 

“And need I tell you that ThompSON could be a nice mirror for WatSON? (Let’s not even go into the whole fact that this could be Ella Thompson’s husband, which would make Ella a Sherlock!mirror of the first order. I mean, Ella has been a slightly distorted Sherlock!mirror right from the start, what with telling John, in TRF, he should articulate his feelings for Sherlock after Sherlock jumped… 

...just to give you one example.)”

[running, running the TLD simulation, staged with ‘actors’ that either represent John or Sherlock or the challenges they are up against…]

Result: John appears to be in deep mourning; he tells the therapist that he has sleeping problems and ‘can’t always cope’. He also gives away something about his alcohol problems and loneliness; he has no one to confide in. He expresses his guilt and bitterness for not taking care of his child. But he won’t tell his therapist about how he keeps seeing his departed spouse as a ghost: MARY (offscreen): Are you gonna tell her about me? JOHN (shaking his head): No. MARY (offscreen): Why not? JOHN: ’Cause I can’t. MARY (offscreen): Why not? JOHN: Because I can’t ... you know I can’t. She thinks you’re dead.

And neither will John confess anything about his feelings regarding either Sherlock or his (now departed) wife. By the way, don’t you feel the scene with the new therapist in TLD is a tiny bit familiar? I at least see certain similarities with this situation from TRF:

This was John mourning Sherlock, and now we see exactly the same thing regarding ‘Mary’? Still in TLD, John is unable to put into words any sort of feelings towards the people closest to him.

Then they start to talk about Sherlock, whom the therapist’s behaviour reminds John of (could the show be any more obvious than this? :-o). But John claims that he’s not thinking of Sherlock at all, and that their separation is Sherlock’s own fault for locking himself away in his flat; Sherlock hasn’t even attempted to make contact (hiatus after TRF, anyone?). Then the session is interrupted when a sports car stops with squealing tyres outside the house.

Discussion: This is supposedly about ‘Mary’s death and John’s neglect of his daughter Rosie, plus Sherlock’s despicable conduct. But I think what we actually see here is Sherlock’s deeper exploration of how John must have felt when he believed Sherlock was dead after ‘the fall’ in TRF. Sherlock needs other ‘characters’ in his Mind Theatre, because he’s still unable to face the fact that it was he, Sherlock, who caused John this level of grief by leaving him. And neither can he fathom the reason for this deep grief. Which might indeed be difficult for Sherlock to comprehend, because why then would John marry someone else when Sherlock got back? John doesn’t open himself up here. But I do think Sherlock subconsciously learns that John might have felt guilty after Sherlock’s ‘suicide’, maybe for having called him a ‘machine’ or other negative things, maybe for drawing media’s attention to Sherlock in the first place, unable to protect him against the slander. Maybe for failing to take care of his friend. All since Sherlock’s comment in TSoT about having been a ‘child’ for John and Mary to look after, I imagine John’s supposed guilt regarding Rosie could just as well be about Sherlock (”everything is about Sherlock”).

TLD, Scenario 2: What will happen if Sherlock tries to make John confess his feelings for Sherlock?

Inspiration: This seems to be almost entirely based on Sherlock’s own memories. I think he is drawing from his vast experience of criminals and drugs. In ASiP there’s a serial killer who convinces his victims to commit suicide with a drug. But we’re also presented a serial adulterer in the same episode; the murder victim Jennifer Wilson. In TSoT we have the Mayfly Man, a serial ‘dater’ who is also a killer, and whose behaviour is reminiscent of John’s. This is, I believe, a long, charged and complex scenario stretching out along the whole episode of TLD. And it’s largely based on metaphors, hence the word play where ‘serial killer’ is substituted with the harmless ‘cereal killer’. As many have said by now: If murder is a metaphor for falling in love, confessing to it is a confession of love. And I believe we have a lot to go on in this show…

[running, running a scenario, where Culverton Smith represents an aspect of John, but where John also represents himself]

Result: A ‘serial killer’ (Smith, representing John) wants to confess to his ‘crimes’, but at the same time he is very contradictory about it, because he doesn’t want to take the consequences of confessing. So TD12 - a memory-altering drug (the effect of which is similar to alcohol) - is the solution; Smith/John can back-pedal and pretend the confession was never made.

Sherlock doesn’t have evidence, but tries to make the ‘serial killer’ confess openly by playing along with him and then confront him. But it doesn’t work; John just beats Sherlock down and leaves him - again. But later Sherlock manages to collect evidence by tricking the ‘serial killer’ to act when Sherlock is at his most vulnerable, which provokes John to save him. In this episode, we’re lead to believe that Culverton eventually, after Sherlock’s ‘entrapment’, confessed to being a serial killer and was taken into custody. But the thing is, we never see Culverton actually confess to any specific crime – not even to the police. What he says to Sherlock’s face is merely that “killing human beings” makes him “incredibly happy” and that he “likes to make people into things”. But this wouldn’t hold in court for a murder case, would it? Who, in particular, did he actually kill? What exactly is Culverton accused of?

Sadly, there’s no open love confession from John – or John’s mirror - resulting from this scenario. But at least Sherlock manages to take on a new approach; he delivers two physical hugs to MP!John – one to ‘John the cereal killer’, and one to a guilt-ridden, repentant John at the end. The apparent topic of discussion is always something else than Sherlock’s and John’s feelings for each other, but at least we’re told that the ‘serial killer’ now can’t stop confessing ‘off-screen’. In the end of the scenario, though, Sherlock insists on wearing the deerstalker, which he has always disliked.

Discussion: I think maybe the most important result of this experiment is that Sherlock will never get a love confession out of John by sacrificing his life, no matter what ‘Mary’ (= heteronormativity) tells him to do. Actually, I believe the modeling shows that it’s Sherlock who needs to take the first step and actually tell John how he truly feels about him. The hug at the end of the scenario - at Sherlock’s initiative - makes this evident. 

But I think this scenario does hint that Sherlock is finally heading in the right direction, even if he’s definitely not ‘there’ yet (the latter is indicated by the fact that he puts on the deer stalker, thus succumbing to keep hiding who he really is). The internal conflict in both Sherlock’s and John’s minds becomes blatantly obvious in this scenario; homophobia and heteronormativity are basically the most powerful obstacles that stand in the way for their relationship to develop.

I think Sherlock is dealing with a heavy onslaught of emotions; partly because reaching a point of honesty about his and John’s relationship is still a bit of a long-term goal, and partly because the journey there is booby-trapped with difficult topics like jealousy and guilt. We hear a lot about the atrocious ‘serial killer’ in this episode (Sherlock still doesn’t approve of ‘love’?), but we never get to see any of his supposed victims or any kind of incriminating evidence for Culverton’s supposed crimes. Except for his attempt on Sherlock’s life, which Sherlock admits is actually a kind of entrapment, set up by Sherlock himself.

TLD, Scenario 3: What’s the role of faith in Sherlock’s and John’s  relationship?

Inspiration: There are many re-cycled elements in this scenario, which speaks for it being based mainly upon Sherlock’s memories. I made a list of the repetitions in a meta some time ago (scroll down to TLD). Walking the streets of London with Faith, for example, is a bit like running these streets with John in ASiP. Faith’s cane and limping is even directly compared to John’s in ASiP. 

And her gun is thrown in the Thames, just like John’s was in the Pilot.

Look how Sherlock has taken over John’s Faith’s cane, and is supporting her.

[running a scenario, where I believe Culverton Smith’s daughter Faith represents what could have existed between Sherlock and John]

Result: Faith – here impersonated by (supposedly) Culverton Smith’s adult daughter - is strong and fragile at the same time. She manages to resist her drug-induced amnesia (‘wilful ignorance’?) of what Culverton is up to by writing a note, and she puts Sherlock on her case. But Sherlock also discovers that Faith is suicidal (directly compared to John in ASiP), so he tries to help her by keeping her company and throws away her weapon. But we see the same gun firing here, as in the beginning and end of this episode:

However, while contemplating his own possible suicide, Sherlock gets stuck in his childhood memories. 

And mixed up with this, we’re exposed to subliminal flashes of a syringe and a spoon, possibly with dissolved heroine:

Discussion: As far as I can see, that’s Sherlock’s kitchen in the background. I wonder: did someone in Sherlock’s past kill themselves? Did one of his parents? Did this make him turn to drugs? It’s particularly interesting that the moment Sherlock approaches his childhood memory is exactly when Faith disappears; he ‘loses faith’. This might say something about how traumatic his memory is. But if this version of Faith is Eurus, and Eurus is a part of Sherlock himself, then this also means that he finds her again in TFP, doesn’t it? 

A likely (in my opinion) significance of this losing Faith scenario has been presented by @sagestreet in a very interesting addition to one of my earlier metas (X); “Sherlock (in his own mind) is telling himself here that what he thought helped John as they met (curing his limp, becoming his friend, giving him laughter, warmth and friendship) never, in fact, existed!”

I also think it’s noteworthy that Sherlock now has ‘Faith’ for a client, the same way he had ‘Love’ (=Lady Smallwood) for a client in HLV (and ‘Hope’ as an opponent in ASiP, for that matter). Unfortunately, the result is only slightly better than with Love; this time Sherlock at least believes he has solved the case, but the real Faith turned out to not have actually been acquainted with Sherlock.

TLD, Scenario 4: What will John do if Sherlock ruins himself with drugs?

Inspiration: This scenario also seems based on Sherlock’s memories from his life with John; the list of repetitions can be used here as well. Like Sherlock waving a gun and shooting the wall (TGG), trying to convince John that he can predict the future (ASiP), John punching Sherlock in the face (ASiB, TEH), etc.

[Running, running a scenario where Sherlock is isolating himself and destroying his own brain and body with drugs inside 221B]

Result: Well, this rather dystopic scenario – paradoxically – might in a sense be pretty close to Sherlock’s own reality, because this is what I believe he actually did in John’s absence (directly after the wedding). Here we meet a Sherlock who has turned 221B into a meth lab, who is hallucinating gravely and who frightens Mrs Hudson with his dangerous tantrums. 

(On a meta level, I think Sherlock’s Shakespeare quotations might be a ‘call to arms’ directed at the audience; how much more heteronormative crap are the viewers going to endure before the bulk of us start to protest loudly?)

But after Sherlock at least manages to save his cup of tea (quite the obvious metaphor here), Mrs Hudson finally takes charge. Sherlock is then ‘delivered’ to John in a fast sports car and a pair of kinky hand-cuffs (insider joke: the car is an Aston Martin).  And the premises is now once again John’s new therapist’s house; in a way, the session continues.

But we also meet a John who is even more disapproving of Sherlock than in TAB, but this time he seems to care very little about Sherlock’s drug use or health in general. John says nothing about Sherlock visiting a children’s hospital while being high, and he doesn’t care when Molly claims that Sherlock is dying from the drugs. John actually encourages Sherlock to take more drugs:

Discussion: To me this plot line isn’t even remotely realistic; ‘real’ John would simply not treat his friend this way. He mourned him for two years, why would John not care about Sherlock dying now? But if this is rather Sherlock beating himself up in his Mind Palace, his bias and self-loathing could totally produce this result. And apparently this tactic, no matter how elaborate, is useless; Sherlock ruining himself on drugs will never lead to any change in their relationship – John will not even acknowledge his ‘cry for help’. Sherlock has been dishonest to John so many times that John no longer trusts him when he tries to be honest, and his drug addiction doesn’t exactly help this. Conclusion: It’s Sherlock who must take the first step; he must prove to John openly that he does indeed love him, because John has never understood subtleties. I’m not sure that Sherlock understands this result just yet, though ;).

TLD, Scenario 5: How is John’s therapy going?

Inspiration: Again, Sherlock is perhaps drawing from his own experience and memories, and tries to continue psychoanalysing John.

[Running a scenario where John’s emotional state in most of TLD is contrasted to how he feels after the Hug] 

Result: After the intimate hug scene, where John cries on Sherlock’s shoulder (without hugging him back, mind you!) we’re supposed to get a ‘happy ending’ feeling, right? And yes; at first we learn that John seems “so much better”, and his new therapist (=Euros = Sherlock) expresses her pleasure with this.

But, scratching a bit on the surface, this overly optimistic image falls apart quite quickly. They may have solved some issues, but the main ones are still unanswered. Sherlock is “back to normal” again, or at least he’s taking cases. And yes, he’s clean-shaven and tidy, he no longer appears high but rather his usual irritable self, and his flat no longer looks like a meth lab (’straightened up’ by Brother Brain and his spooks, wasn’t it?). Lady Smallwood (=Love) flirts with Mycroft (=Brother Brain). But it seems that Sherlock himself is still working alone; John isn’t there with him. And one of his clients says the other is channelling Satan. And then, there’s suddenly a gun in the therapist’s hand. in this episode, it’s John’s turn to get shot. 

Discussion: John appears to feel better, judging by his final therapy session of the episode. But look at the ‘pool of blood’ under his feet (Eurus even mentions ‘blood on the carpet’ at this point). This rug is similar to the one Janine was lying on at CAM Tower, right before Sherlock was shot in HLV, isn’t it?

And the gun looks like John’s gun. In fact, the smoking gun (with tranquilizers??) at the end of TLD... 

...is the same as in the beginning. 

And the hand holding it seems like John’s hand.

John may write with his left hand, but he definitely shoots with his right. (Which by the way puts Eddie van Coon from TBB in another light. Hmm...)

The therapy session has come full circle, I believe. If Sherlock could kill himself with drugs, John could definitely do it with a gun. Let’s not forget that we have two suicidal protagonists in this show, which I read as a Romeo-and-Juliet kind of drama, interpreted by our favourite Drama Queen (hence the Shakespeare quotes in TLD and elsewhere :) ). John was suicidal already when he met Sherlock in ASiP, but Sherlock saved him merely by existing. And I think the key point here is what John says on his blog: #Sherlocklives means #Johnwatsonlives. But if Sherlock dies, so will John, most probably. So Sherlock has to stay alive to save John Watson from committing suicide, that’s the most important task that he has. And, as I’ve tried to show in earlier installments, he’s actually dying in S4. But he has to stay alive for John’s sake.

In conclusion, I think this is where Sherlock - in all honesty - has to admit that his ‘therapy sessions’ towards John don’t actually work; he’s definitely not a 'real’, competent therapist (which becomes glaringly obvious when Eurus/Elsa shoots John). Curing a limp and a tremor may be a good and useful thing, but it doesn’t actually deal with the kind of far deeper problems John and Sherlock have - both of them. Makes me wanna scream to him: “Give up, Sherlock! You’re not supposed to be John’s therapist; this is about you, not John!”

In my view, this is Sherlock expressing his frustration; he gets bored by his own fruitless scenario, and ends it all by shooting down his main ‘actor’. The session is over and we’re back to Square 1. Sherlock must now pass to the next level, go deeper still, facing his own demons. He’ll have to travel back in time, approaching his most traumatic memories. He must face Sister Sentiment...

But since this post is getting veeery long, I’m gonna have to save Sherlock’s experiments with Sister Sentiment for Part 2 of this installment. :)

(For more discussion about the therapists in BBC Sherlock, see @gosherlocked‘s meta on this topic, with additions. 

(One of the best analyses of this episode that I’ve read so far was written by @loudest-subtext-in-tv immediately after TLD aired in 2017 (X).)

Tagging some people who might be interested: @raggedyblue @ebaeschnbliah @sarahthecoat @gosherlocked @loveismyrevolution @sagestreet @tjlcisthenewsexy @elldotsee @88thparallel @devoursjohnlock @sherlock-overflow-error