#so I need visual cues and songs from when he was younger

[a-very-fond-farewell]

me: oh maybe today I’ll leave my village and go to the city for a stroll

me: *surrounded by pretty women from all sides*

me: *YEARNS*

so.. that was a mistake. time to write my feelings away.

[aeinova]

The First Time

December 2014

featuring. Nova & L

Mun note: I am in no way, shape, or form, accusing any face claim I use for these characters in this story of violence or crime. This is purely fictional. I am not affiliated with said agencies, celebrities, nor entities that grant awards or hold events. Trigger warning: mature themes, with suggestions of abuse, both sexual and physical. Discretion advised.

Songs of choice for this to listen to low in the background for ~ambiance~: Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter & End of Beginning by Djo

Taking a view from the backseat at everything, Nova realized all the raised red flags her younger self did not. The memories of threats being told in her ear to being thrown so hard against a table that she bruised instantly seemed so distant now that she retells this in her various therapy sessions. The shrink in the opposite chair simply nodded, taking down notes she assumed her agency would be able to read later on so they can lock and seal it forever from the public. All this done by the man who was essentially Lucifer himself; achingly beautiful but devilishly evil. Nova laid there, eyes closed like always, her hands clapsed against her stomach as she retold out loud those events.

..And here we announce the beautiful visual couple of the year award to: Nova and L!

Cue the typical ‘ooo’s’, mixed whispers of “what a visual couple...”, “my eyes have been blessed”, and even “their future kids won the lottery!” as the pair of breath taking idols walk on the vast stage, hand in hand, grinning from ear to ear as they made their way up to accept the award. Their dating announcement was published on the KNetz earlier in the year, which came as a surprise to everyone, including their respective agencies. Sure, they have crossed paths outside of music shows and award ceremonies, but this spark came naturally when a young L offered a hand to a young Nova when she almost stumbled down some steps at a college festival. Instead of avoiding the inevitable and the korean culture of keeping things as private as possible, they agreed it was best to embrace it fully, earning them full couple sponsorships, movie roles, tv roles and even a couple song. Nova, afterall, was a free-spirit, wanting to take on whatever came her way and L, who was the it boy at the time, needed an excuse to move all eyes away from him.

The first night she felt his hatred was the night they jointly won that forsaken couple award, taking it then with much pride in front of envious stares, including some of her peers of her own agency. Through all that, she held on tight to the man’s familiar arm, letting him speak into the adjusted microphone. “Thank you to everyone who has cheered us on. Without Nova, I don’t know who I would be.” Glancing over at her, she could tell there was something off about the man by the glint in his eyes. Could he have been already drunk without her knowing? Or maybe it was something else entirely. Still, she did not like the fight or flight feeling she was getting, prompting herself to let go of him to smooth down her Ralph Lauren dress while he finished his cheesy speech. The words drowned out in the background as she stared down at her feet for a moment, realizing the loud clapping as eyes moved onto her. “Your turn.” He growled under his alcoholic breath, motioning impatiently for her to grab the microphone now.

“Without Myungsoo, I would not know where I would be today.” Her delicate voice cracked, causing a shy smile as she felt herself lost for words. Somehow, that prompted a laugh from the audience, as she elegantly waited for them to finish. “..Please look forward to our marriage. Thank you.” Gasps filled the room, as she grinned mischievously, waving politely at the crowd as the cameras started to flash wildly. Her agency had schemed this false announcement, predicting for positive marketing of their already famous idol, and of course, she did not mind doing it since she knew Myungsoo would not mind.

Or so she thought.

An orchestra version of their couple song played lightly as they walked off back stage, like all the award winners, announcers, and presenters did at the end of their bits. She knew this stage like the inside of her palm; A typical build up and break down kind of setting, where nothing back stage changed and only the landscape did. She was about to walk off to the nearest dressing room for a touch up from a random make-up artist as she felt her hand being pulled roughly in the opposite direction. “Come with me.” Her boyfriend’s firm voice was alarming, the kind of voice you would hear from a man who was done wrong, the kind that gave warning before a fight, the kind a little kid would get if they dropped a glass cup. She realized quickly she was being taken to a dusty utility room, the door being slammed shut behind them with a loud slam. It was a rather small and muggy room, where only a few cleaning supplies and a human-sized latter fit. The hand that was being grabbed was let go, a murderous glare set on her own innocent expression in the dark. “And what the fuck was that, Eunmi?” Her eyes were wide, searching for the rugged string that was connected to the old light bulb, finally finding it as she turned it on carefully. “What was what?” She asked, blinking at him, as if she did not just announce probably the biggest engagement to date in their industry. No big deal. “Please look forward to our marriage? Are you fucking insane?”

Was she? They had discussed it over drinks so many times: A serene life of three kids, a dog, living in a penthouse next to the Han River while still working on movie roles. So what was the big deal? “Myungsoo, why are you so upset? It’s not like it was a lie–" The force of an open hand met her cheek roughly, a crisp sound of skin meeting skin filling the air as she stayed gazing down. She could feel the room spin a bit, eyes watering immediately. “Do you even know how at risk you put me with my own sponsors? And with my agency? You’re so stupid. You’re so fucking stupid.” He growled aggressively, pinching the bridge of his perfect nose. “You seriously think I would marry a piece of garbage like you? Look at me.” He demanded at Nova now, watching her stay still with her now messy hair cascading at the sides of her face to hide her tears. “Look. At. Me.” Myungsoo had changed so much after his father passed away a few months ago, falling into the pothole of alcoholism as Nova comforted him every time he sobbed over that fact, but this was the first time he had done something like this.

“Baby–“ Her voice was so small, a sob escaping as she gazed up at him with those round brown eyes of hers. She was still very much understanding, still in love and blinded by that.. But the person before her was not the man she loved, not at all. “I’m sorry..” She sighed out, wet tears coming down her cheeks in excessive streams now as he took it upon himself to slap her again.. And again, and again. She was on the ground now, not sure as to what to do anymore besides putting her delicate hands up in protest. No noise came from her despite everything though, the man staring down at her as he made sure to shut her up. “Baby this, baby sorry, baby that. Who the fuck are you calling baby right now? Not me. Oh, hey, you know what.. I know exactly you can do for me to apologize.”

Oh? Did she dare look up at him? The chance was taken as her gaze moved up to meet his one more time. She knew him so well, and those eyes went from alarming, to even more so; It’s those hungry eyes that she would only experience when they went to bed, when those whispers of ‘I love you’ and affection would be exchanged. The eyes she had grown to expect and love in those intimate moments.. Yet, this was not that moment at all.

“Come here, bitch.”

Nova opened her eyes as the ring of an iPhone alarm went off, not realizing a whole hour had gone by already as she retold this out loud. She was pale, clammy on her hands as she sat up slowly. These sessions were worthless, she thought, looking over to the bored shrink at his desk. Was he even listening? “Can I go now?” Annoyed she had wasted her time, she rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms, looking out the window that was next to the leather couch. The Han River greeted her immediately, watching the water flow under the bridge as a family passed by on the sidewalk under them. “Please tell me I can go now.”

[sunshinemunchkin]

Wonderland

pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

summary: dean gushes about you and all your attributes.

warnings: none? maybe simp!dean

word count: 878

a/n: i wasn’t planning on posting this but it’s been sitting in my drafts for a while. the gif isn’t mine!!

>>>>

“she’s just so adorable! i don’t know what it is, and it’s kind of annoying.” sam merely scoffed at his brother’s declaration of love towards their friend who they have known for over 6 years.

stuffing his face back into the book he was looking at, sam listened to dean’s rambling about the woman. “it’s everything about her. i swear bro, i was hexed.” dean looked over to sam who was hardly paying attention to him, picking up one of the rubber bands that was on the table, and flinging it so that it hit his brother between the eyes.

an exclamation of sudden pain sounded from the younger winchester as he glared at his brother. from the look on dean’s face, sam just narrowed his eyes at dean's childlike behavior. shutting the book down and flinging the rubber band back at dean, sam looked to the entrance of the room before speaking.

“you should just tell her how you feel. you never know, you could have something really good.” dean just tsked his brothers fantastical comment away, as he continued to believe in the fact that he didn’t deserve something good. that no sliver of happiness belonged in his life.

however, when he thought of you, that was when it all fell into place. he knew he was whipped, though he would never admit to the fact. he knew you had him by the heartstrings and were dragging him around like a lovesick puppy.

“it’s just, complicated. okay?” dean furrowed his brow at sam’s unconvinced hum.

“what else about her then?” sam grinned, loving how flustered and shy his brother got with you as the topic of conversation. dean’s eyes turned dreamy as he pictured you.

in everything that you are. your smile, laugh, and jokes filled his mind and he could’ve swore he was floating. he felt like such a teenager and laughed at this.

“her. just her as a person. ya know she’s the only chick hunter i know who enjoys painting her nails?” dean paused to chuckle at a memory of you cutting off a vampires head because they broke your nail.

your personality never failed to bring a goofy grin to deans face. especially not after you made a drunken comment about how you enjoyed his smile. he hasn’t stopped the action since then. the sarcasm that practically dripped off of you and the jokes you made were things he may have not picked up on in the moment, but later on he would grin to himself about. your laid back demeanor, how you didn’t care what people thought of you. and most of all your kind and beautiful heart. how you opened up your heart to anyone who needed just an extra bit, or in dean’s case a lot, of lovin’.

“she’s just so… nice! i don’t understand how, with everything we see.” sam’s smirk never once faded at his brother’s fondness of you. and he definitely noticed how much brighter dean’s green eyes shined in adoration of you.

as if on cue, your bouncing footsteps are heard coming down the hall. dean immediately knowing that you were probably listening to some pop song you loved so much. most likely taylor swift. an artist in which he refuses to admit that he listens to despite the few songs that were hiding in his workout playlist. your whispery singing was heard as you shuffle along in the hallway, taking your sweet time in your movements. something none of you got to do very often.

it was as if dean could see right through the cement wall as he visualized your pajama clad body strutting down the hallway, earphones stuffed in your ears as you assumed the bunker to be empty. dancing and twirling around without a care in the world.

turning the corner, your hips sway to the loud music blaring in your ears. you don’t notice the two men sitting in the next room so you took what you assumed to be your private concert to the kitchen, humming and singing the words incorrectly to yourself. dressed up in the rattiest of sweats and your hair tossed up with a hair tie in some half assed manner, dean only saw perfection.

as you came into view, his smile only grew. the corners of his lips nearly reaching his eyes when he realized you didn’t see him or sam at all. your mind too focused on the music you were singing to. they heard your soft humming as you spun down the hall into the kitchen, laughing quietly at your obliviousness to their presence.

“yeah, okay. i still think you should tell her.” sam said, standing up from the table, ready to leave the conversation on that final note.

some lyric being sung about ‘green eyes’ and the mention of ‘arms twisting around me’ could be heard from your passionate voice in the kitchen. sam eyed his dumbstruck brother with a grin and nodded towards where your voice carried from.

dean huffed, stood up, and forced his nerves down as he walked out of the study and made his way into the kitchen. sam headed the opposite way to his room, awaiting the details from you having considered him to be your confidant.

[carewyncromwell]

“So that's what they call a family -- Mother, daughter, father, son... Guess that everything you heard about is true... So you ain't got any family --  Well, who said you needed one? Ain't you glad nobody's waiting up for you...? When I dream on my own, I'm alone, but I ain't lonely:  For a dreamer, night's the only time of day...”

~“Santa Fe” from Newsies (1992)

x~x~x~x

Ahhh, okay -- so. As much as I love Orion Amari, one of my biggest hang-ups with him in the game is his design, which makes him look WAY too old to be anything younger than 17. I’ve taken on the challenge of trying to draw Orion looking younger in the past (as a fourth year, in this situation), but I decided today to take on the ultimate challenge and try to draw Orion as a first year, just about to start Hogwarts with his new brown dumbo rat familiar, Rigel! (Credit to @kc-needs-coffee​ for coming up with that brilliant idea! 🐭) 

The background is an edit of a screenshot of Platform 9 3/4 from the movies put through Lunapic’s “drawing” filter, which I then layered underneath my drawing of Orion and Rigel. I decided to give Orion a slightly different style of poncho and some too-big cargo pants, but I just couldn’t deprive my little sunshine boy of his classic arm warmers or pendant necklace. 🌻 The song referenced above, which I played on repeat while drawing and editing this, is actually from my character playlist for Orion, which you can consult here! 

For those of you who don’t know much about my personal version of Orion (who you can learn more about with this Carewyn/Orion masterpost, if you’d like!), I headcanon our precious Quidditch Captain as having anxiety. Panic and anxiety disorders are sadly common among those who grow up in orphanages, like Orion did; clasping one’s hands in front of them (which Orion frequently does in game) is a common visual cue for someone being anxious; and some known treatments for anxiety disorders include regular physical activity and meditation, both of which Orion engages in. I also have written my personal Orion as becoming the youngest Quidditch Captain in 100 years when Snape names him Quidditch Captain of the Slytherin team in his fourth year, just before Orion turns 15. (Orion’s birthday is in early October, so he’s the eldest of the Quidditch kids.) So prior to Hogwarts, my image of Orion was that of a very quiet, detached sort of kid constantly trying to hide how shy, anxious, and sensitive of a person he was, who preferred to just stay out of the way and watch rather than engage with the other kids at the orphanage, partly out of self-preservation and partly out of feeling both out-of-sync with and off-balance around the people around him. This doesn’t mean that he didn’t sometimes get in trouble at the orphanage when, upon being forced to give his opinion, Orion would respond with his trademark laidback kind of sass. (“You got something to say to me, you little rat? Come on then, let’s hear it! Come on -- or are you going to just float away on one of your little rainclouds, Or-Cry-on?” “‘Or-Cry-on?’ Hm, that’s a new one. I must applaud you on the time it must have taken you to come up with that.” 🤣) And naturally, just like all magical children, Orion’s untrained magic would get him in trouble too -- for whatever reason, things just always seemed to fly around Orion, including the boy himself. Even before he got on a broom, he could somehow jump very high without much effort and somehow land perfectly on the ground even after falling down stairs or out of trees. When he finally got his Hogwarts letter and learned the truth about his abilities, Orion resolved to use the abilities and chance the Fates had dealt him to obtain his freedom...and that freedom he eventually found through his friends Murphy McNully and Skye Parkin, the Slytherin Quidditch team, and chasing a dream of playing Quidditch professionally. 

Hope you’re all having a magical day! Much love!! xoxo

[peaches-writes]

group huddle!

member: jeongin wc: 1.7k genre: fluff, college au, it’s actually ot8-centric lmao warning: explicit language, flop humor note: might make it a longer fic in the future anyway i think it’s cUTE + @skzwriternet

There’s a violent dust of pink and an awfully hidden grin on Jeongin’s usually nonchalant face as he stares dreamily at his phone, anyone with eyes within the vicinity of the dormitory’s common area can see clearly. It’s been some ten minutes, Jisung notes as he looks up from his own phone to check on the youngest, and it seems as if it’s going to stay this way for an hour more, Felix concludes this time when he passes by to help Minho in the kitchen.

“What do you think?” Chan asks Changbin as the two peek their heads out from the former’s bedroom door on the other end of the hall. Even with the distance, the two could still tell that something is up and it’s not just the ceiling this time. “Do you think uncle and auntie sent him something? Cute pictures of cats? A motivational video, maybe?”

Changbin snickers with a shake of his head, rolling his work chair back inside the room first before Jeongin could snap out of his daze and notice everyone’s eyes on him. “Hyung, it amazes me sometimes how your mind works.”

“What?” Chan pouts, mirroring Changbin and heading back to the song they’ve been working on. “What does that mean this time?”

“It means that maybe the kid’s smiling at his phone because he’s actually looking at someone.”

“Like a celebrity?”

“A crush, Bang Chan. I’m talking about a crush.”

Jeongin is actually looking at his conversation with you which is quite close to Changbin’s idea. What was his reason for being anxious just fifteen minutes ago is now the source of his giddiness as your message history clumsily yet endearingly shifts from a very impulsive love confession from Jeongin to a shy and awkward reaction from you.

“They like me too...” Jeongin mumbles under his breath as he waits for you to finish typing more messages, the simple gesture of saying it out loud making him smile even wider. He’s unconsciously tapping too loud on the sofa with his socket feet, something Seungmin and Hyunjin from the nearby study table would’ve called him out for had he not been looking adorably excited over something, and swaying gently from side to side in his seated position just at the thought. “Cute, cute, cute, cute!” 

“Innie, are you talking about me, hm?” Minho suddenly chimes in the younger’s train of thought as he enters the common area with plates of side dishes. Felix follows behind with his own set of dishes to serve on the dining table, rolling his eyes all the way. “Get off your phone, it’s dinner time, buddy.”

Jisung, watching the exchange from the other end of the sofa and using it as an opportunity to speak. closes his phone and scrambles over to Jeongin with a back hug and a curious gaze to the youngest’s phone. “So watcha got there, anyway, huh? What’s our baby smiling at?” He asks cheekily, eyes widening and voice gasping dramatically as his eyes caught a clear glimpse of the screen before Jeongin closed it frantically. As if on a comical cue, the phone also lights up right after it’s closed with a message from you. “Ooh, Y/N! Aren’t they your classmate from your lab—“

“Hyung!” Jeongin belatedly clamps a hand over Jisung’s mouth, catching the entire dormitory frozen in their places when he then looks up; literally, Felix has a big bowl of rice hovering right above the dinner table and a piece of stolen kimchi is right in front of Hyunjin’s open mouth. 

Jisung shrugs innocently at Jeongin as he topples over the sofa, even raising his hands up in surrender for emphasis. “What?” He mumbles through the hand on his mouth. 

By this time, Chan and Changbin have left Chan’s room to join everyone at dinner, getting caught frozen right at the common area’s end of the main hallway. “Y/N?!” Changbin exclaims into the brief silence, briefly taking away everyone else’s attention from Jeongin. “Yeah, aren’t they that kid you hung out wi—” 

Given the distance this time, Jeongin instinctively resorts to yelling to silence the other older boy. “Yeah, yeah, I get it! Can you guys—ugh, now you two have done it!” He groans, running his free hand through his dyed blue hair once before puffing out his cheeks. 

“I’m a little lost here...” Chan frowns, head turning in all directions his seven other roommates are positioned for help. Next to him, Changbin slaps a hand to his forehead. 

Another brief pause then follows, albeit now for allowing Felix to finally set the heavy rice bowl down and Hyunjin to quickly eat the kimchi before Minho could reprimand him for it, before Seungmin clears his throat and calmly suggests, “How about a group huddle?” 

Jeongin would’ve said otherwise had his phone not lit up again with another influx of messages from you. 

y/n [8:06 PM]: im sorry its just  

y/n [8:06 PM]: and ah this is so embarrassing to say but

y/n [8:06 PM]: it’s my first time doing this and i really like you too 

y/n [8:07 PM]: but what now? what do you want to do?   

“Fine,” The youngest ends up sighing in defeat, unclamping Jisung’s mouth and begrudgingly standing up from the sofa to head over the dinner table. Jisung follows closely in tow, eyes still wide but this time nonverbally relaying the contents of the messages to Changbin who simply snickers. 

At this, the rest of the dormitory gathered to the dining table in a speed never before seen in the otherwise slow boys, Seungmin glaring at everyone to ‘shut up’ the entire time they get settled.

“So what’s going o—?” Chan tries asking in genuine confusion before getting dragged off the seat at the end of the table by Minho while Felix shushes the two sharply. 

Jeongin slaps a hand to his forehead this time as he sits at Chan’s usual chair, clasping his hands together in front of him after until everyone’s seated. “Hyungs,” He calls for everyone slowly and firmly, taking in a deep breath before continuing. The rest of the table holds in their breath with equal seriousness. “I have a situation but can we please eat first?”  

- 

Half an hour later when the dishes have been cleared out and Changbin has accepted his destiny of washing the dishes for another night, everyone migrates to the living room side of the common area to finally discuss the ‘situation.’ Changbin, Minho, and Chan have a hostile Jeongin held down on the sofa by the wrists, Hyunjin has somehow stolen the youngest’s phone over dinner to display right in front of the TV, Seungmin is 'emergency messaging’ other important people (aka Yedam from the floor below as well as Daehwi and Chenle who both just need to know all of the campus gossip), while Felix and Jisung prepare a very unnecessary PowerPoint Presentation on the spot while the entirety of Seungmin’s laptop screen is projected on the TV. 

“I just—” Jeongin sighs as he struggles to adjust in his seated position because of his elders’ playful grips on his arms. “I-Is this really necessary? I’m calm, I swear, I just need to reply to Y/N‘s text!”

“It’s going to be a very long presentation and we have to make sure that you don’t run away, Innie!” Minho, who sits on Jeongin’s immediate right while he’s seated on Chan’s lap, exclaims before linking their arms. ”This is for your own good! The future of your first relationship is at stake!” 

“Also, I’m on it—texting Y/N, I mean.” Hyunjin dismisses as he types away on Jeongin’s phone, prompting more protests from the younger. “Oh hey look, they’re free on Saturday! Innie, where do you want to go on Saturday?”

“That’s good, Hyunjin! Ask them what kind of flowers they like too!” Jisung snaps his fingers in satisfaction before going back to cramming with Felix. “Ah, this is so exciting!”

Finally giving up in his physical struggle, Jeongin groans. “You don’t have to ask, they told me that they like tulips last time.” He sighs in defeat before turning to Changbin with a glare. “And what do you have to say for yourself, exposing me like this?” 

Changbin shrugs innocently, linking his arms with Jeongin as well. “What do you mean? You’re the one who ended up agreeing to this.” 

Meanwhile in front, Felix begins manning the most bare minimum PPT the entire dormitory’s ever seen while Jisung stands in front with his best impression of a salesman pitch. “Okay, everyone shut up we’re about to present!” Jisung grins with his hands clasped together in front of him. Everyone topples over in laughter at this. “Alright, alright, we’re all settled? We’re all cool? No one needs to go to the bathroom? Can we start?” 

“I’m just saying, why is Jisung presenting when he’s not even in a relationshi—?”

“Anyway,” Jisung immediately cuts Jeongin off with a more passive smile, comically making an ‘I’ll see you later’ gesture to him after. Felix almost bangs his head on the laptop’s screen in laughter while moving the slides. “Questions will be entertained after the presentation, including questions about mine and Felix’s credibility and about going to bathroom so don’t even try, Minho. Felix and I made this really quick but we promise it’s going to be worthwhile and definitely fool-proof! Our baby Jeongin will be dating soon, can you believe it?”

The slides that follow are labelled according to the parts of a standard academic research, everyone’s quick to notice and react positively to. 

“Does it go with a thesis stateme—oh, it does!” Chan laughs the hardest as the senior who’s currently working on his thesis, almost loosening his grip on Jeongin in front of him. Fortunately, Jeongin doesn’t even try to escape as he places his hands in front of his face in embarrassment. 

“Yes, the visuals are admittedly half-assed because of the time constraint but it’s the content that matters!” Felix wiggles his eyebrows and laughs as well. “ Take notes for your thesis defense, hyung.” 

The crowd ‘ooh’s at the sudden attack. 

“So back to the topic,” Jisung points out once he’s managed his giggles, snapping his fingers to the change in slides. “Good evening everyone, I am Han Jisung, with me is Lee Yongbok, and we are presenting our guide to dating!”

m.list

[taleofharrison]

I’ll Never Give You Away | Ashton Irwin

Summary: No summary because I feel that the warnings give too much away and I don’t want to spoil it more but you need to know it is based on the movie Jersey Girl.

Warnings: Death, crying and agnst at the end. Italics are flashbacks and memories 

Prompt: When I take a look at my life and all of my crimes you’re the only thing that I think I got right. - Lover of mine by 5sos

Word Count: 2035

A/N: This is my entry to the writing challenge by @writingfortoomanyfandoms​ I really hope you like it and it’s my first 5sos fic so I’m a little nervous, feedback is appreciated and I’m not a native English speaker I practice my writing skills by writing fanfcition so any comments and tips on that note are welcome too. Enjoy!

As Y/N made her final touches to her make-up she let her brain wander through the memory lane.

“Ash where are you taking me?” Y/N giggled as she let her boyfriend guide her through an empty beach in Australia.

“Princess we’re back home how many times do we get to run on the beaches we grew up?” he answered taking a quick look over his shoulder to look at girl who looked flustered. Even though they’ve been dating for almost 3 years the nickname princess still gave her butterflies and Ashton knew. He loved it.

“I know but can’t you please let go of my arm” she said with a smile. She knew Ashton didn’t hurt her in purpose he was just nervous about what was about to happen “t’s starting to hurt”

“Sorry I just-“ He had gotten to the place he had planned to be with her “D’you remember when we were younger?”

“Yes, we ran away every time we could to this beach” Y/N smiled at the memory “we used to play with the ocean and you asked me here if I wanted to move to California with you”

“I still can’t believe you said yes” he chuckled looking down at his feet “I mean we weren’t anything yet”

“We were best friends that was more than enough to me” the girl smiled again. Ashton loved that smile he can’t even remember when he fell in love with her.

“This beach saw us grow and was a witness of important moments of our history” Y/N giggled at Ashton’s sudden change to deep thinker. She liked it though “That’s why I brought you here, so it can witness another big milestone in our lives”

“When I take a look at my life and all of my crimes you’re the only thing that I think I got right” When Ashton got down on one knee Y/N couldn’t believe it “So Y/N Y/L would you say yes to another of my crazy ideas?” he had a blue velvet box in his hands with the most beautiful ring Y/N had ever seen.

“Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!” with tears in her eyes Y/N throw herself at Ashton’s arms. In that moment they were the happiest people on Earth.

“What are you thinking?” Ashton voice brought her back to reality.

“Just remembering” she said “when you proposed”

“Another time I couldn’t believe you actually agreed with me to do something” he smirked placing a kiss on the top of her head “You ready to go?”

“Yes, just let me get my purse” Y/N sighed a tone of sadness in her voice. Nobody would’ve notice but Ashton knew her better than he knew himself.

“Now what’s the matter?” he asked again getting a questioning look from you “don’t give me that look what’s up?”

Y/N sighed again before speaking “It’s your first Gammy nomination and I’m going with you seven months pregnant. This isn’t exactly how I visualized this moment for us”

“I think you look stunning” Ashton smiled giving her a small peck on the lips “Besides you know you are my lucky charm. Both of you are”

Y/N smiled he always said the right words to help her feel better “Alright Mr. Grammy Award Winner let’s go. We don’t wanna be late”

“I haven’t won anything yet” he laughed.

“Didn’t you say we are your lucky charm?” Y/N smirked with a hint of fun could be found on her words.

“We are 5 seconds of summer thank you for coming tonight” Luke spoke right after the last song. It was the first concert with an actual audience and Ashton.

“I can’t believe they told me that about two hundred people would be seeing us tonight” he complained once he could get back to his best friends all the 12 people there had gone home “They were like 12”

“Well Ash I was the thirteenth person here in the audience” Y/N laughed at his tone of voice and face.

“Nice now you’re making fun of me” he rolled his eyes punching her shoulder playfully.

“Ash it doesn’t matter if I’m the thirteenth person on the venue or the ten thousand one there. I’ll support you every single time” Y/N assured him holding his hand giving it a squeeze “This was only your first gig and I know you’ll go far”

He slightly smiled at your words “You’re right. I’m just taking this too seriously”

“Now you have to properly introduce me to my replacement” Y/N said dragging Ashton with his bandmates.

“Replacements?” he said a hint sound of fun in his voice.

“Well yeah, aren’t they your new best friends now”

A quiet afternoon had been interrupted by three guys bursting in with gifts in hands for Lea, Ashton and Y/N’s baby girl who was just a month away from making her debut into the world.

“One night” Ashton groaned as he closed the door behind them “one night with my wife is all I’m asking you guys”

The Australian boys ignored his complains as they pushed past him making their way to the living room where Y/N and Ashton had been binge watching Friends.

“We were thinking that maybe baby Lea would need some of these” Calum said showing the couple a big shopping bag.

“Guys the baby shower was months ago” Y/N said. She was tired being 8 months pregnant wasn’t easy. It was taking a big toll on her emotionally and physically “this baby has everything she needs by now”

“You never have too many stuffed animals Y/N” this time it was Luke with a big pout on his face “one of these could be the toy that will be her friend for the rest of her childhood”

Y/N laughed of course they came here just to make her laugh. They hadn’t seen her in a while since she barely left the house so close to the due date and with a babysitter in the house. Whether it be Sierra or Crystal Ashton didn’t want Y/N to be alone or outside the house while he was at the studio.

“And maybe we can help get the nursery ready” Michael pointed.

“The nursery’s been ready for weeks arseholes” Ashton told them

“Well we just missed Y/N we wanted to visit her” Calum shrugged

“That’s so sweet!” Y/N exclaimed “But right now isn’t a good time, rain check?”

The boys nodded being escorted by Ashton to the door.

“I know baby” she softly said to the belly “your uncles are crazy, but they are so excited to meet you. We all are”

The day came. Ashton was with you he had taken a few days off the studio, so he could be with Y/N all the way to the hospital to deliver the baby.

“Ok so the suitcase is in the car. I called the boys they know Lea is coming and we’re ready to go” Ashton was trying really hard to keep his cool a thing Y/N found endearing since she knew that his mind must go to a 1000 miles per hour right now.

He drove as fast as he could to the hospital but of course he was second guessing since his pregnant wife came in the car with him going into labor. At the hospital he was quick to fill the paperwork while some nurses took Y/N in a wheelchair.

Once Ashton could go into the hospital room he never left Y/N’s side. He held her hand and talk about all the things he was planning to do with Lea.

“I’m going to teach her how to play drums” he said excitedly with a gleam in his eyes. A gleam Y/N only had seen the day the got married “I’m so excited this is happening”

About two hours later nurse came in to tell the couple that Y/N was ready to go into the delivery room. This is it. They were going to meet their littler girl.

“Now Y/N one more push okay just one more” the doctor asked. Y/N squeezed Ashton hand one last time. The rest is a blur.

They took the baby away from them to clean her up. Ashton heard her crying and he smiled then he saw how Y/N fell asleep in front of him, he whispered her name before the nurses pushed him away kicking him out of the delivery room that’s when he started screaming his wife’s name.

Ashton waited outside the room sitting on the floor head between his knees waiting for a nurse or a doctor to come out and tell him that everything was okay both mother and daughter were ready to see him again and maybe go home tomorrow morning even earlier if possible.

“Mr. Irwin” the voice came from a doctor. Ashton was quick to pick him up the floor “I’m sorry but we did what we could. Y/N…she’s gone”

Ashton world couldn’t believe what supposed to be one of the happiest days of his life became the most bittersweet day. The doctor kept speaking but he just didn’t listen was he was saying the room around became black while tears came down his eyes.

“…on the other hand, you have a beautiful healthy baby girl waiting to meet you right there” the doctor said in the most neutral tone possible pointing at what was Y/N’s hospital room “One more time I’m so sorry for your lost”

Ashton was again crying on the floor. He wanted more than anything to meet Lea, but he wasn’t ready he just couldn’t see her in that moment and as if on cue three loud Australian boys came in looking for the Irwin family balloons and even more toys in hands.

“Where’s our niece?” Michael asked with a pink bunny balloon in hand. His smiled faded away the moment he saw his friend.

“And my goddaughter?” Luke’s tone changed from happy to dull in less than a second “What? Where?”

“Y/N…she couldn’t-“ Ashton was struggling for the words to came out but his voice kept breaking “the doctor said…Lea’s there and I just can’t pick myself up to see her”

“Hey hey hey Ash it’s okay it’s hard” Calum kneeled to be on eye level with Ash “We know you want to grieve and we have no idea how you must be feeling but right now you’re all that little girl has and we are here” Calum turned to see Luke and Michael tears in their eyes “We will always be here and we will help you with everything you need”

He picked Ashton from the shoulders so he could stand up at the same time “Now go in there and hold Lea we will wait here”

Ashton took a deep breath and pushed the door open and there she was, a beautiful girl sleeping in a pink blanket he just stared down at her “she looks like you” he whispered up to the sky “I’ll do my best with her I promise” he whispered again to the sky.

Lea started to cry. Ashton was quick to pick her up “It’s okay” he whispered against his head “I know you miss mommy I miss her too and when you grow I’ll tell you everything about her but right now it’s just and me against the world”

She kept crying but not as loudly “Do you want me to sing you a song?” he asked even though she couldn’t answer “Your mommy’s favorite was Lover of Mine maybe that’ll work”

He softly hummed the lyrics “I'll never give you away 'cause I've already made that mistake if my name never fell off your lips again I know it'd be such a shame when I take a look at my life

and all of my crimes you're the only thing that I think I got I right I'll never give you away…I’ll never give you away” and his little girl was asleep again.

He understood in that moment that he needed to be strong for her and to support her as best as he could the rest of her life. He opened the door and peaked his head.

“Hey do you want to meet you niece?”

Gif not mine 

[sinner-as-saint]

De Trop.

Sebastian Stan x Reader

Requested by Anon:

“Can I ask for something real kinky with Bucky or Sebastian? Age gap + nipple piercing sensibility + overstimulation + fingers in mouth situation?”

 A/N: I gotchu you kinky lil shit! I hope I did well, Anon!

    The car ride home, as you and your boyfriend Sebastian returned from a party, was silent. Not even a word was exchanged. His eyes never left the road, usually he would be pretty chatty around you – but not today.

He was pissed.

 Why?

Oh well, because you got slightly more tipsy than usual and spent more than half the evening ‘flirting’ with his good friend Chris Evans and dancing to scandalous songs with the latter.

To you, it was just a casual fun time you had with Chris; but through Sebastian’s eyes – you overstepped the line.

 “Babe, seriously? It’s just Chris, he’s harmless. All I did was-,”

 “Y/n, just . . . stop talking,” your boyfriend cut you off with a menacing tone. His words sent shivers down your back and you knew better than to defy the man, so you shut up.

A tingly feeling took over as you anticipated what was coming. Usually whenever Sebastian was mad, he’d pin you to his bed and fuck you until you begged him to stop because you couldn’t take it anymore. You bit your lip as the thought of it was both fearful and exciting; very exciting.

  Once home, despite your weak attempts at explaining yourself and your actions, Sebastian had a strong grip on your wrist as he dragged you upstairs; to your shared bedroom.

“Sebby, please. I’m sorry,” you tried your best to apologize, yet a fucked up part of you wanted to see what his ‘punishment’ would consist of.

Sebastian was always very possessive over you, and once in his drunken state, he confessed that it was because of the age gap between the two of you. He was older by 12 years, and a part of him was always insecure that you would leave him for a younger partner.

 “Enough! You need to be kept in check, you can’t go around flirting with everyone,” he spoke, his voice weirdly calmer than you expected. Yet the chilling tone caused goose bumps to erupt all over your body.

 “But I wasn’t flirting, I was j-,”

 “You were on his lap, Y/n! I think I should show you who you really belong to, yeah baby? Now, get out of this dress,” he ordered and you obeyed silently.

  Once the dress and your shoes were off, you sat on the edge of the bed; waiting for your pissed off boyfriend.

He had left the room for a brief moment, and then came back with a pair of handcuffs, a black satin scarf and the vibrator he often used on you when you . . . misbehaved.

 You took in his appearance while his hungry eyes roamed all over your body as well. He was wearing nothing but his black briefs and you were just in a nude colored thong. Both bare and hungry for each other.

 Sebastian approached you like a predator towards his prey. His eyes were slightly darker than usual and his face emotionless.

 “Lay down, hands above your head,” he whispered against your lips once he was closer.

And you followed his instructions.

 Head against the pillow, hands above your head and he took his time in fastening your wrists to the headboard using the handcuffs. Then proceeded to tie the scarf around your head – blindfolding you and increasing your heartbeat in the process.

Your breathing quickened once you could feel the restrain of the cold metal against your wrists. He placed his knee in between your legs and slightly pressed against your core; making you whimper at the contact of his skin against your already dripping core. With no visual of what he was about to do next, it made everything much more exciting.

 His mouth kissed his way down from your jaw to your breasts; taking his time in swirling his tongue around each erected bud multiple times. Sebastian paid special attention to your breasts each time because secretly he was a sucker for your nip piercings; he loved them. 

Slowly, he toyed with each one of the small metal rings around your nipples and tugged on them gently with his teeth. 

You whined and arched your back off the bed, pressing your boob further into his mouth; his teeth lightly grazing your hardened nipples.

 “Sebastian . . . I- fuck!” you exclaimed when you felt his wet tongue against your still clothed core. You bucked your hips against his mouth but he soon pinned your body down using his hand, while the other ran up and down your leg as his mouth continued their assault on you.

You felt his beard brushing against your inner thighs and his nose poking your clit each time he ran his tongue up and down your entrance.

 You sighed in relief when you felt him briefly lifting his mouth off you as he dragged your soaked underwear down your legs; discarding them.

You felt his kisses along your skin as he settled in between your legs, using his knees to keep your legs opened.

 “You’re so beautiful, babe. But you need to learn how to behave around other men. I hate the thought of someone else touching what’s mine, understand?” he asked, dragging a cold finger across your skin lazily; from your chest till your belly button, around it and down until he found your sensitive bundle of nerves.

 You nodded, whimpering at his touch.

 “Good girl,” he whispered against your skin as he leaned down to kiss and bite the skin at your throat. You instinctively tilted your head to give him better access to your skin and you felt him smirk as you did so.

 Not even a second later, you heard the buzzing of the vibrator and you involuntarily moaned at the thought of it against your throbbing heat.

Sebastian chuckled darkly when you did so.

 His left one last kiss on your skin, right beneath your ear and pressed the head of the vibrator against your core; separating your wet folds using his fingers so that the vibrator fluttered right over your swollen clit.

You cried out as soon as the ripples rushed through your entire body. Intuitively, you tried closing your legs but Sebastian’s body prevented that.

He briefly lifted it off your core and lazily hovered it over your nipples, pressing it gently against the sensitive skin. The buzzing sound intensified once the quivering head made contact with the metal rings on your nipples, and he smirked when he heard it. 

You moaned as the buzzing sound of the vibrator rang in your ears and soon, that was all you could focus on.

Your back arched off the bed as Sebastian brought it back to your core and lightly moved the tip of the vibrator up and down your glistening folds.

 “Oh . . . Seb,” you whined and he chuckled again, setting the vibrator on a faster mode.

Your lips parted as a series of cuss words left your mouth; you were helpless. Completely at his mercy, and he liked it.

You so desperately wanted to touch him, but you were held back by the burning restrain of the metal handcuffs.

You wanted to run your hands through his hair and touch him, but you couldn’t. You whined in frustration as your body squirmed under him.

 When your moans became more frequent, Sebastian took it as a cue that you were about to cum, and abruptly lifted the vibrator off your dripping core. Leaving you breathless at the sudden loss of contact with the vibrator.

 “No! Seb, please, please . . .,” you pleaded but he was in a sinister mood of messing with you.

 “What? After all you did tonight, you thought I was just gonna let you cum that easily? Oh no baby, I’m gonna bring you to the edge over and over again until you lose your mind and beg me to fuck you,” he carefully kissed around your throbbing clit as he whispered his vulgar thoughts against your skin.

He cautiously placed a chaste kiss above your clit, knowing perfectly well that it drove you crazy as his beard gently brush over the sensitive bud.

You whined again, pleading him to just touch you; but he wasn’t willing to fall for it.

 Once you got over the rejection of your orgasm, he placed the vibrator against your core again. Your body immediately reacted to the flutters and the vibrations against your dripping entrance was enough to turn you into a moaning mess within the next minute or two.

Sebastian enjoyed it; having you under him, tied up and helpless – squirming under him and begging for his touch; he bloody loved it.

 And yet again, as you were just seconds away from your orgasm, he lifted the vibrator off of your body. Despite the fact that your eyes were closed, you felt a tear escaping your tear duct. You were frustrated, and he knew that.

 “You’re mine, you understand?” Sebastian asked as he brought you on the edge for the fifth time that night.

You were a hot mess; dripping core, teary eyed, frantic breathing as you desperately tried to form coherent sentences but failed each time.

 “Seb, p-,” he shut you up yet again by pushing his two fingers into your mouth. You instinctively took them in and immediately started sucking on them, similar to how you do with his cock.

 He placed the vibrator back down against your core and your back arched off the bed as the sweet pressure formed again. You felt like you were losing your mind, your legs were shakily trying to close but he sat in between them; unmoving.

 “It’s tiring, isn’t it? So close to your release, yet so far. You hate it, don’t you, baby? Well I hate it too, I hate seeing you get comfortable with other men. I hate the thought of someone else touching you because you belong to me!” he stated, his voice deep and gravelly, rocking his fingers into your mouth as he wiggled the vibrator against your throbbing core and you moaned around his fingers.

 You could feel your desire spreading all over the vibrator and all over your inner thighs, and his growing bulge was pressing against your thigh.

 His fingers muffled your moans as you realized you were getting closer to your release again, yet this time, Sebastian didn’t remove the vibrator off of you.

And soon, you felt the pressure becoming too much to handle and you let go; coming around the vibrator with a cry of his name.

He believed that the sight of you so out of control was divine. He almost came in his pants as you whispered his name over and over again like a chant.

He slightly moved the head of the vibrator up and down your folds, coating it in the wetness which flowed uncontrollably out of you. Your entrance throbbed and pulsated as you came. Your breaths shallow and heartbeat going insane inside your chest.

Even after you came, Sebastian didn’t lift the vibrator off of your body, instead; he increased its speed and pushed it further against your dripping core.

His face nuzzled into your neck and you felt each puff of his warm breath against your glistening skin.

 “Seb . . . please, it’s t-too much,” you pleaded again, hoping he’d get the memo that the vibrator was becoming a little too harsh on your sensitive heat. But he deliberately ignored your pleas and focused more on leaving hickeys behind on your skin – marking his territory.

 Your body squirmed under his touch as he rapidly moved the vibrator across your wet core, your legs were shaking as you felt the waves of euphoria wash over you one more time as your orgasm washed over you a second time.

 “The next time we go out, I need you to keep in mind that I don’t mind doing this to your body every single day, for however long it’ll take you to understand that you’re mine alone, you get that?” he whispered slowly in your ear.

A few seconds later, his hand reached around and untied the scarf; allowing you to look up at his gorgeous face again.

 “Seb, please! It’s too much! I’m sorry, please I’m so sorry . . . I- Fuck!” your ability to talk temporarily ceased as he wiggled the vibrator over your clit once again and you cried out his name for the hundredth time that night.

 “I know. I love you baby, but I’m far from being done with you yet,” he whispered against your skin. And you shivered from his words alone.

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[ryanmeft]

Movie Review: Parasite

It’s a crying shame that the ad campaign for Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite put such emphasis on the idea of the movie’s mesmerizing tonal shifts. Like your first Kurosawa or your first time in a new city, this is an experience that is best if you have absolutely no idea what you’re in for. It’s a class satire, and a family drama, and a mystery, and frankly I’ve already said too much. It is one of those films that cannot be adequately reviewed, because the best things written about it will come years after the fact. If you haven’t seen it, stop reading now.

Films from Asia often focus on the plights of a working class that lives in conditions all but the worst-off U.S. citizens can’t compare to, and that’s true here. We zero in on a family of four living in a basement that passes as an apartment. The area they live in is a place where such spaces are piled on top of one another like broken blocks. Drunks piss right outside their window, which they leave open to get free pest control from the city cleaners. They work menial jobs, such as folding pizza boxes, to make ends meet. Kim Ki-taek (Song Kang-ho), the father, actively encourages his family in taking full advantage of any opportunities they can seize, because there is no other reasonable way to live. His wife Chung-sook (Jang Hye-jin) is skilled in cooking and cleaning with very few resources or space. His daughter Ke-jeong (Park So-dam) is a gifted artist, a talent with little application in a ghetto. His son Ki-woo (Choi Woo-shik) is smart enough to be in university, but that is of course a pipe dream.

That changes when Ki-woo’s friend Min-hyuk (Park Seo-joon) leaves for university and suggests Ki-woo pose as a university student to pick up the English tutoring he’s been doing with the daughter of some rich clients. They live in a house designed by a famous architect, who built himself an Eden in the same city where so many live in abject poverty: the yard is larger than the Kim’s entire house and each room is big enough for an apartment. The Park family that currently owns it lives as if their help is invisible. The daughter Da-Hye (Jung Ji-so) falls for her new tutor, while younger child Da-song (Jung Hyun-joon) runs around playing at his idea of American Indians (the Indians are both the good and the bad guys; there are no cowboys). Dong-ik (Lee Sun-kyun) runs an IT company, but it could be any type of company, as he’s never shown to do much besides be chauffeured around in expensive suits. When asked about his relationship to his wife (Cho Yeo-Jeong), he says “We’ll call it love”, but in other scenes, especially a rather sexually explicit one, they do seem to care for each other. That’s important, because there’s no denying both families in this film are human.

That’s important, because neither is ideal. Ki-woo initially takes the tutoring job in apparent good faith, and I thought I was watching a simple domestic drama, sort of like Downton Abbey in Korea, where the lives of both served and servant are examined. Then Ki-woo gets an idea: manipulate the family’s existing servants into being fired, then have his family take their place while hiding the fact they are all family. They’re also hiding the fact they aren’t technically qualified for the work. They set up fake headhunting services to convince the Parks they are hiring highly vetted professionals. Ki-jeong, who has some skill with art but mostly with forging, becomes the highly respected art teacher to young Da-song, reading about “art therapy” online and then faking her readings of hidden meaning in the child’s scribbles. Chung-sook, who spends her days keeping her own house, becomes a maid of long experience. Ki-taek, who can drive, becomes an expert driver who has served many wealthy clients. The family starts merely wanted jobs that aren’t folding pizza boxes for spare cash, but their ambitions grow, and soon Ki-woo has ambitions of marrying Da-hye so he can inherit the mansion and all the money, he begins to refer to it as their house.

I couldn’t feel really sorry for the Parks here. The movie has morphed at this point from a drama about domesticity to one about economic desperation, and the Parks are capable of being rooked by the Kims in the first place because of the value they place on status. The Kims, of course, are excellent at giving the family exactly what they want, and no one would be likely to question that they are what they claim to be. The illusion of high class is as valuable here as the real thing. At the same time, the Kims grow greedy themselves. They are not, it must be noted, striking any bold blows for equality among the masses, but for advancement among themselves. After all, they got other poor people fired and turned out on the streets to claim their positions. This is not a simple story of outcast lower class heroes sticking it to arrogant rich overlords; neither family is shy about using and abusing others to get what they want. The standout performance here is by So-dam, whose character proves to be the most adept at manipulation.

The thing about stepping on others is they are very likely to step on you back. The movie seems at this point to be about a really clever con job, until one of the former servants (Lee Jung-eun) returns begging a favor. At this points the film morphs yet again. The Parks have gone on vacation, and the servant catches the Kims in the act of using the house (and the booze and food) as if it were their own, reveling in the possible excesses of being wealthy. Since the former housekeeper also has a secret, the movie becomes both a comedy of errors (naturally, the Parks have their vacation spoiled and return early) and a vicious satire on…well, on many things. Power. The limits of ambition. Class struggles. The idea of being trapped by wealth rather than freed by it. The layers of subtext here are so many that it may take years to dissect them all.

Joon-ho and co-writer Han Jin-won approach all these things with a breathlessly rolling dark comedy, so that in seconds we go from laughing to horrified. That it all stays tonally true---that the movie never feels like it is cheating or taking shortcuts---shows remarkable control over material that could easily become chaos in less skilled hands. Credit for this needs to go also to cinematographer Hong Kyung-pyo and composer Jyong Jae-il. The former chose the site for the mansion, which was built for the film, with angles of the sun and other factors in mind, so that once the camera rolls each shot is perfectly placed. This becomes especially important during the finale, in which the locations of doors and stairways between which characters are moving become a visual poetry of their own. The latter reigns in the score when needed, and hits creeping notes when they are needed, balancing each scene. Characters move from floor to floor in ways that visually represent the divide between classes. It is notable that none of the upper class folks ever descend into the basement, which is the one area of the house that is not perfectly organized. The door to it leads to a darkened stairwell, whereas other areas are lighted, a cue as to how the high-powered CEO and his family see their servants.

I haven’t even begun to say everything I could about this film, and I suspect I won’t be able to do so for some time. The curse of reviews is that you must write them before your thoughts on a film are fully formed. I won’t pretend I fully understand the film, as I’m both not Korean and not smart enough, but I can safely say it’s a rare case where “You’ve never seen anything like this before” surely applies. It’s possible you never will again.

Verdict: Must-See

Note: I don’t use stars, but here are my possible verdicts.

Must-See

Highly Recommended

Recommended

Average

Not Recommended

Avoid like the Plague

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 All images are property of the people what own the movie.

[honeymoonjin]

A/N: chapter two is early too because I’m a real slut for procrastination it seems. Also, just a heads-up, the title chapters are all from actual lyrics of songs, but they aren’t necessarily songs on ZODIAC. I want to keep that stuff separate for the actual chapter content. Just so you know!

Synposis: Your boyfriend, Kim Namjoon, has gone missing. After acting erratic for a few weeks, spending all his time locked away in his studio, he suddenly vanishes into thin air, leaving only an unreleased album behind. Zodiac.

Chapter Two – I often dream of the past and how beautiful it was

“…but we don’t have audio, so if you need us to come in and get you out of there, you need to give us a visual cue, okay?”

You nod distractedly as Detective Park pulls you to a gentle stop outside the door. Jeon, trailing behind the two of you with a dark scowl, huffs in annoyance. “This is highly irregular,” he complains, “if he confesses in there, we’re still stuck with his word against hers.”

“Or he could let a vital clue slip that Y/n can pass onto us as a potential lead,” Park counters, turning to you. “Are you ready to go in? Remember, you just wave at the mirror at any point, and one of us will come in and get you. We’ll be right behind that glass.”

You don’t reply, and simply slip in the moment he scans through and opens the door. It closes reluctantly behind you, and you stare at the man who lazily turns to watch you sit down across from him.

He’s wearing a bulky multi-colored jacket and a cap on backwards, with a shock of bright blue hair poking out from underneath it, at odds with his dark eyebrows. You recognize him; of course you do. Apart from your boyfriend, he’s the biggest name in Korean music right now. Famed rapper Agust D sits across from you in a set of handcuffs chained to the table, taken into custody for…

“Did you kill him?” you ask weakly. “Or is he still shut up in a basement somewhere, wondering if he’ll ever see the sun again?”

The man sighs and reaches a hand up to adjust his cap, sticking his tongue into the side of his cheek when the chain pulls taut inches away from his head. He lowers his hands back onto the table with a metallic clink. “I wouldn’t know.”

You bite your lip and sniff. The room is so quiet with just the two of you. The sharpness of the stark fluorescent lights reflecting off every surface has you feeling a strange mixing of dread in your stomach. “Everyone I’ve talked to seems pretty sure you took him.”

Yoongi lets his head rest on an angle, observing you. “You met the incompetent detectives?”

“Th- What? Incompetent how?”

He scoffs, eyes sliding to the two-way mirror behind you. “RM’s been missing for what, a few hours? And yet they’re already locking me up like I showed up with a bloody knife. You think disappearances are that easily solved?”

You feel impossibly small, caught between the two forces on either side of you. “What do you mean?”

“This is a high-profile case,” he responds with a bored drone, as if it should be obvious to you, “and yet they’ve made no effort to track him down. Haven’t sent out any alerts, haven’t checked for any credit card trails. Nothing. They just busted into my studio and put me in handcuffs. There’s something else at play.”

“What?” Your brain is too addled to discern if he’s making sense or spouting nonsense.

“I don’t quite know yet,” he admits, “but something doesn’t add up. Either they want to get rid of me or they’re convinced they’re never going to find RM again.”

Your hand shoots up to cover your mouth. You muffle a sob and clear your throat. “They’re going to find him,” you say resolutely, although you’re not sure who you’re trying to convince.

He leans forward, dragging his cuffs against the table, causing you to flinch back. “Don’t you get it,” he growls, “they’re not even looking.”

You blink into the bright lights. “Why are you telling me this?”

He sits back, casting a wary gaze at the mirror behind you. Even though it’s just the two of you, he lowers his voice anyway. “If you want your boyfriend back, you’re going to have to find him yourself.”

“I don’t know why you care. Aren’t you two rivals or something?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Grow up, Y/n. All of that, it’s a show. You put a few insults into a verse and suddenly the fans go wild. We haven’t felt threatened by each other in years. It’s just business.”

You avoid his gaze, scratching at your wrist absentmindedly as you think back to what Joon had told you about his competition. Had he ever actually complained about it? You can’t recall.

Yoongi grows impatient with your silence. “He left behind something, didn’t he? He loved you, he wouldn’t just leave you with nothing.”

Your eyes shoot up to lock onto his. You go to lie, but you know he’s seen the truth in your reaction. “…an album,” you reveal reluctantly, “when I got to the studio, he had emptied everything off of his computer except a new album.”

Yoongi darts forward, leaning fully against the table, piercing you with his gaze. “Listen to it,” he hisses, “find someone who knows the industry, who knows about music. Someone you trust. Don’t listen to the detectives but don’t let them get suspicious.”

A noise from the glass behind you cuts off your reply. You hear footsteps in the hallway. Your eyes flicker worryingly towards the door, not yet opened. You swallow hard. “Why are you helping me?”

His face relaxes into something more vulnerable. “Music is my life,” he explains, “and if you don’t find RM and prove my innocence, I’m going to rot in here forever, unable to produce ever again.” The door opens and he slumps back into his chair, fire from his gaze completely extinguished.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Park frantically asks, rushing in to check you over as Jeon grabs the rapper by the shoulders and pushes him down into the chair roughly.

You watch the aggression with wide eyes, missing the way Jimin looks up over your head and glares meaningfully at his partner, who relaxes his grip into a more casual hold.

“Uh, I’m fine,” you say hurriedly, “it’s fine.”

“He didn’t tell you anything…useful?” Jeon asks.

You shake your head, wilting under his heavy gaze. “I- I don’t think it’s him, Detective Jeon. Maybe you should look into where Namjoon could’ve gone if he ran away?”

Jimin leans on the table and fixes you with a sympathetic gaze, rosy hair glowing against the lights. “We just need him to confess, Y/n. Then he can tell us where Namjoon is. Besides, didn’t you say Namjoon wasn’t the type to run away?”

“Come on,” Jeon commands brusquely, picking up Yoongi and marching him towards the open door. You stare after them, but Yoongi doesn’t turn his head again and the two of them disappear around the corner.

Don’t let them get suspicious. You look up and send Park a sheepish smile. “You’re right, I did say that. Sorry, I’m just…It’s a lot to handle.”

His face softens, and his hand comes forward to pat yours as it rests on the table. “I know, I know. It’s been a stressful time for us all. Now, the younger brother called, he stopped by the studio to find we had all left! I told him I’d drop you off at Kim Seokjin’s house, that’s where he is at the moment. I think you should spend the next few days with your loved ones and let us handle the hard stuff. Give yourself time to grieve, you know?” His eye twitches.

“Grieve?” you question in an incredulous tone, “he’s been missing for less than a-”

“I misspoke,” he hastily interjects, “that’s not what I meant at all, I apologize.” He sends you another warm smile, but his eyes don’t crinkle at the edges. “Alright, let’s go.”

You hold your tongue, but you make sure to take a note of the strange gut feeling you receive. “Okay.”

Taehyung takes you into his arms the moment you step into the foyer of Jin’s massive home. “Y/n,” he gushes, “I was so worried about you!”

You let him squeeze all the air out of you, secretly relishing in the tight embrace yourself. “It’s okay,” you muffle into his shoulder, “I’m here.”

You had spent plenty of time with Taehyung before…all of this happened, and he was almost like a brother to you. A little younger than you, he had quickly latched on when he saw you were getting close with the middle Kim.

“Y/n.” A little less close to you was the eldest Kim. Neither Namjoon nor Taehyung seemed to talk about him that much, although you had gleaned that he was a heavy hitter in the legal sector, a named partner in one of Seoul’s reputable law firms. He was busy, and generally seemed happy to keep his distance. In fact, you hadn’t met him properly, since he didn’t even attend the family Christmas parties Joon had taken you to over the past few years.

“Jin, it’s good to see you. A shame that it’s under such bad circumstances, but…”

“Have a seat,” he says simply, looking simultaneously casual and unbelievably expensive in white shirt and charcoal trousers. “Do you want a drink?”

“Oh, n- no thank you.” The tall man downs the rest of his own glass, a dark amber liquid, then disappears to refill it. You turn to the artificial redhead in front of you. “Taehyung, did you hear about Min Yoongi?”

He nods somberly. “Crazy, huh? And that guy won’t even tell us what he did with hyung.” His face crumples and you wince at your poor choice in conversation.

“I, uh, I don’t think it was him, though, T.”

He looks up at you with miserable eyes. “How come?”

“I’m sure one of the detectives told you I went to talk to him. He didn’t do anything, I’m sure of it. He thinks there’s som-” You cut yourself off, not trusting that Tae wouldn’t immediately pass on anything you tell him to Park and Jeon. “I think maybe Namjoon did run away,” you end lamely.

Taehyung breathes out slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know, Y/n. It just doesn’t seem like him. I think we need to leave this to the experts, you know?”

You shift, feeling the USB stick dig into the flesh of your backside. “Yeah. Okay.”

Taehyung continues on, undeterred by your lack of conviction. “Besides, I gave them a bunch of ideas of people who didn’t like him. Min, obviously, but there are plenty of other artists who he rapped about that maybe did something?”

You bite your lip. “I just hope they explore multiple avenues instead of waiting for Yoongi to confess when he might not even have done it.” You let out an unsteady breath and bury your face in your hands. “Even if we couldn’t have him back, I just wish I knew where Namjoon was. If he’s oka-” Your voice breaks and all the coughing and swallowing in the world won’t remove the lump in your throat. You fall into a melancholic silence until Taehyung sighs and stands up.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, bending over to give you an awkwardly angled hug, “I wanted to stick around longer, but I’ve got work this afternoon and it’s too late notice to get cover. Besides,” he adds as an afterthought, “I think I could do with a distraction to get my mind off this. I might go crazy if I think about it any longer.”

You smile sadly and squeeze his hand. “I know what you mean.”

Taehyung leaves quickly, and before you can wonder about what’s taking the eldest so long, he’s returning seconds after the front door closes.

Even though you declined his offer, he’s carrying two glasses, and he places one in front of you. You glance up at him questioningly as he sits directly beside you on the couch.

“I’m not condoning alcoholism, but a drink to take the edge off might do you good,” he explains, “you look like you’re a piece of glass ready to snap.”

“Thanks,” you mutter bitterly.

He shuffles a little closer and gives you a soft smile. You’re startled at the sweetness behind it, and the way his cheeks puff up when he does, making him look less business-savvy and more kind. “I wanted to ask,” he says gently, “if you’d like to stay here for a few days. I know we don’t know each other as well as we perhaps should by now, but I couldn’t forgive myself if I let you sleep alone in that apartment.”

You stare into the cloudy depths of the glass in front of you. “I don’t know. All of my stuff is there. All of his stuff is there.”

“I can send someone over,” he assures, “it’s no trouble at all. I think we all need to stick together in a time like this.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulders. You reach out to take a sip from your glass, wincing as it lights up your throat. “I guess so.”

TAGLIST Message me or send in an ask if you wish to be added to the taglist. You’ll receive a notification every time I update ZODIAC.

@itishebihime-samaforyou || @hoodiebangtan

[platonicvisionimagines]

Vision, the reader, Wanda, and any other Avengers of your choice on a road trip somewhere. Someone thought it would be a nice bonding experience and everyone there was pretty much brought against their will. Fun nonsense, loud singing and hijinks ensue and the reader gets to see a playful side of Vision they never even knew he had.

Alright, my friend. So here’s the deal. This request was so flipping good that I really had to go a little overboard. So, instead of a bulletpoint scenario…I may or may not have started a, uh…full-on fic? It started getting out of hand, so I’m breaking it up. Here is the first part, and it’s going to be, I estimate, about 2 or 3 segments long. I just felt that an overview really didn’t do this request justice. So, this is part one, and be prepared for much more after I finish the six other requests in my inbox.

THE AVENGERS ROAD TRIP, PT. I (2.5k words)

It starts as a sort of joke, a wild fantasy proposed by a couple of day-dreamers.

The common room in the New Avengers Facility is filled with an uncommon and uncharacteristic peace—no arguments, no hurt feelings, an all-around remarkable lack of tension and room-dominating elephants.

Steve reads the paper from his favorite chair directly under one of the overhead lights. On the floor beside him, Bucky tinkers with the unloaded crossbow Clint and Natasha were teaching him to use. Vision and Bruce examine and discuss blueprints for one of Tony’s new blaster prototypes pulled up on a holoscreen. Viz’s arm is wrapped around Wanda’s shoulders, and he absent-mindedly rubs circles into her sleeve with his thumb as she chats with you.

“Oh, I listened to that band you were telling me about!” Wanda exclaims, gesturing excitedly.

“I’ve given you hours’ worth of recommendations, Wanda,” you tease good-naturedly. “You’re going to have to narrow it down for me.”

She laughs. “Ah, they had a strange name. I can’t think of it. Hang on.” She closes her eyes and racks her brain for a melody. One pops to mind and she hums the chorus expectantly. Recognition clicks in immediately for you.

“WALK THE MOON! Oh my gosh, what did you think?”

“I loved them! They make music that makes me want to travel.” She quirks an eyebrow. “Does that make sense?”

You leap to your feet, pointing at her fervently. “It makes perfect sense! I know exactly what you mean—they’re the perfect road trip band!”

Wanda, Viz, and Bruce stare at you with wide eyes, and, realizing that your shout has definitely disturbed the peace, you glance behind you to find Steve and Bucky wearing the same expression. You smile in sheepish apology and spin back around to face Wanda, who hides her laughter behind her hand.

“Sorry, everyone. I promise I’ll be quiet after this, but you all look skeptical of my claim, so now I have to defend my point.” You cue F.R.I.D.A.Y. with a wave of your hand. “Miss F.R.I.D.A.Y., play ‘Surrender” by WALK THE MOON.” Vision chuckles quietly. He always called the AI “Miss,” insisting that for all she did, she deserved the utmost respect, and the habit had rubbed off on you.

There’s a rustling as Steve gives up on reading for a moment, folding his paper and putting it in his lap. Bucky continues to fiddle with a mechanism of the crossbow, but you know enough about him to know he’s listening carefully, too. The opening notes of the song fade in, and the images of all it could be a soundtrack to are vivid in your mind’s eye.

After a minute of listening, you can see that no one’s objecting to the music, but they’re also not visualizing what seems painfully clear to you. Wanda and Vision are searching to find whatever it is you had in mind, but Bruce looks like he’s not hearing the track at all as he frowns and zooms in on the blueprint before him.

“Alright, everyone close your eyes. You’ve got to let it wash over you.”

Much to your surprise, everyone does as you ask. As a younger, newer member of the team, sometimes you could get the others to indulge you for little requests like this.

“Really listen now,” you instruct as the chorus pumps its driving beat through the air. “See? Don’t you get a vibe like you’re driving through the Grand Canyon with your hair flying in the wind and the red rocks rising around you? It’s just blue skies and open air and freedom, ya know?” The longer they have their eyes shut, the more you see everyone’s expression shift, and you know they’re feeling it.

When the song ends, Steve and Bucky are looking at you, nodding in satisfied agreement. Bruce still has a small smile lingering on his face as he goes back to scanning over Tony’s blueprint, and you hope the music was a welcome distraction for a moment. Vision opens his eyes and grins.

“That was lovely. I can understand why you both enjoy that song so much.”

You look to Wanda to get her opinion, but stop yourself from speaking when you see that her eyes are still closed. Another few seconds pass before she opens her eyes. There’s a faraway expression on her face when her gaze meets yours, and it startles you. The sadness that tints her irises haunts you, and you quickly sit down beside her. Vision notices the same thing and gently shakes Wanda’s shoulder, looking at her worriedly.

“Wanda, are you okay?”

She blinks rapidly to reel in the emotions threatening to spill over and nods.

“I…I am fine, yes. It’s just…it sounded so nice.” She brings her hands up and gingerly flicks her hair off of her forehead. A gentle smile graces her lips. “Maybe…maybe someday we can see something like that.”

Vision takes Wanda’s hand and kisses it softly, rubbing her knuckles soothingly. “That sounds like a wonderful idea, Wanda.”

“I agree,” you say, searching for a way to bring her back to the state she was in before. “Hey, do you want to watch this really cool set of covers Steve and I watch sometimes?” She nods, and you ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. to bring up YouTube.

Everyone returns to their tasks, but the calm is skewed, squished, like it can’t quite settle back into the same shape, like the room suddenly has less space than before. Wanda falls back into easy laughter as you show her Postmodern Jukebox, but you catch Vision’s eye behind her back, and you both know that you’re going to have to find a way to help Wanda see the world.

In looking at each other, neither of you catch the glint of determination in Steve’s eye as he turns to the sports section.

It’s 10:45 the next morning when F.R.I.D.A.Y. sends out a compound-wide alert to let the team know that an 11:00 meeting has been called. Everyone who spent the night in the compound shuffles down to the boardroom in various states of alertness; 12:00 is optimal functioning time for most Avengers. Bruce rests his chin on his hand, dozing lightly as he sits, and across from him, Natasha watches, fighting the smile threatening to cross her face. The smell of coffee hangs heavy in the air as Clint hunches over his mug next to her, Sam throws back his caffeine like a shot, and Wanda sips quietly from her cup. Vision smiles brightly as you enter, and you pull up a chair beside him.

“Any idea what we’re in for?”

“None whatsoever.” Tony beats Vision to his reply, striding through the door. “I pulled up this morning ready to get to work and got re-routed on my way to the lab, so it better be good.” He slides into the seat next to Bruce, clapping him on the shoulder and startling him awake. “You get a chance to take a look at those blueprints, buddy?”

Bucky and Steve walk in last. Bucky takes a seat near the head of the table, and Steve follows but remains standing.

He gives a close-lipped smile before starting in. “Morning, Avengers. I’m sure you’re all wondering why I called this meeting.”

“Rogers, if this is about trying to get the Department of Education to finally retire those PSAs—”

Steve snorts. “It’s not that, Stark. We’re in need of some team bonding.” He looks around meaningfully at all of you. “I think some time together outside of the compound would do us some good—time when we’re not looking at blueprints or punching secret agents in the face. Time when we’re just…you know, living.”

“I like our movie nights,” Bucky interjects with a shrug. That was an understatement—Bucky adored movie night.

“So do I, Buck, but I was thinking of something a bit beyond that,” Steve responds cryptically.

Natasha narrows her eyes. “Well then, what do you have in mind?”

Steve draws in a deep breath, pointedly meeting your eyes and then Wanda’s. “A road trip.”

Clint, Sam, and Tony burst into laughter simultaneously. Natasha smiles.

“Oh, you’ve really done it this time, Steve.”

Steve had anticipated as much in the way of reception. “Before you totally shrug me off, really think about it for a minute. It’s a much-needed break, a chance for us to see some new sights, and I know for a fact you’ve all wanted the opportunity to test out Stark’s car collection.”

“Hey, don’t volunteer my luxury SUVs for your little teenage summer fantasy.”

“You can shake your finger at me all you want, but I guarantee they’ll look better on the road than in the garage.”

“I think it’s a fantastic idea,” Vision finally says. Everyone turns to look at him, and at last, they catch sight of Wanda, of the hope shining in her eyes. The atmosphere shifts with the recognition of her childlike wonder. You tap your fingers on the table.

“I agree. Honestly, nothing cements family ties more than a good, old-fashioned road trip.”

The beginnings of a sense of triumph lights Steve’s expression. The tide is turning in his favor.

Bruce sits up in his seat to object. “I don’t think we want to risk putting me in a very confined space for an indeterminate number of hours.”

“I don’t know, Dr. Banner,” you pipe up. “I’ve never seen you Hulk out over nothing. It’s always seemed like you’ve been pretty in control over the kinds of minor annoyances that would pop up during a road trip.”

“That’s true, Bruce,” Steve agrees. “I think you might really end up enjoying yourself.”

Sam stretches in his seat. “Yeah, you all have a good time with that. Take lots of selfies, alright?”

Without missing a beat, Steve looks at Sam. “Sam, you’re coming.”

“What?” Sam sets his mug on the table, disbelief in his face. “Come on, why don’t I get a choice?”

“Because you don’t have a wife at home already prepared to chew you out for missing dinner last night by staying at the compound,” Clint retorts. He laughs fiendishly in victory, his voice playful, but his expression falls a bit and his laughter dies off as he realizes the truth behind his promise of an imminent incoming lecture.

“Look,” Steve sighs, a muscle in his jaw tightening as his tone changes. “It’s been one major hit after another for this team. If we’re being honest, I think it’s a miracle we’ve managed to stay together this long. It just seems like we could use a little vacation, a way to reaffirm that we’re in this together. That we’ve got each other’s backs.”

A few seconds pass in silence. Bucky breaks it, grinning as he speaks.

“Alright. An Avengers road trip.” He chuckles lightly at the sound of it; it’s a proposition only his best friend could make work. The room settles into an energy of acceptance, a few other laughs breaking free from your teammates. You and Vision look at Wanda at the same time. She’s ecstatic. “That begs a pretty important question,” Bucky continues. “Might start a brand new fight before it brings us together. Where are we going?”

The task falls to you and Vision. Steve feels that it’s only right. He extends the invitation to Wanda, too, but she declines, saying she wants to be surprised.

You briefly consider having a city as your destination, tossing around Boston and Pittsburgh and Cleveland. But the national parks have always had a special place in your heart, and as soon as you suggest it, Vision concurs that it’s the way to go.

“Cuyahoga or Acadia?” you ask, biting your lip and drumming your fingers against your chin.

Vision considers this seriously for a minute. “Maine might be a bit more secluded,” he suggests. “Easier to stay hidden and inconspicuous.”

You clap and point at him in agreement. “You’re so right, my dude.”

“We could complete the first half of the trip and stop in Providence for the night before making our way into Augusta.”

“Good idea. I love Rhode Island.” You type in your new destinations and look at the times for each leg of the route. “Looks like it’s broken up into three travel days this way. Should prevent us all from being at each other’s throats too quickly, right? On the way back we can do longer stints in the car and get back in two days because everyone always wants to get home by the end.”

“We could stay over in Concord, New Hampshire.”

“Perfect!” You survey the route you’ve mapped out in awe. “Viz…I believe we just planned a road trip.”

He raises his eyebrows and smiles at you. “I believe we did.”

Ultimately, Steve grants Tony the option to skip out on the road trip so that he can spend time with Pepper—although he did extend the offer to let Pepper join the expedition; she respectfully declined. Clint had automatically qualified for exemption because of his family. The thought of the confined quarters of the car had made Bruce too nervous, and he opted to remain at home after you made him promise to tag along for the next road trip—you were exceedingly optimistic—as long you all came back in one piece and still mostly enjoying one another’s company.

But you did succeed in dragging Natasha, Sam, and Bucky along, and you even manage to get Peter onboard. Not that it had been much of a struggle.

“A road trip?” He had gawked. “Uh, yeah, of course I want in!”

It’s a Thursday when you leave, piling into the Lincoln Navigator Tony agreed to loan you. Peter, Sam, and Bucky settle into the back row. Peter doesn’t mind, even being in the middle seat, and Bucky doesn’t mind the back either. But Sam wears an exasperated expression already. He hadn’t had much of a choice in coming or in his seat selection, mostly because you had begged that Wanda and Vision’s first road trip experience not be from the back of the van. Window access, you had argued, was key for the trip. But you promised he could have first pick on the way back.

And so it had come to pass that Nat, Wanda and Vision would occupy the middle row—the snack row. The three hoist the big snack-filled canvas bags Wanda had assembled throughout the week into their laps. You slide into the passenger’s seat as the appointed DJ for the journey, and Steve exchanges a few words with Tony as Tony hands off the keys.

And then Steve takes the wheel, and the road trip begins.

Again, thank you for the great opportunity to bring this to life, my darling Anon. Look for the next few parts with some great Viz moments over the next few weeks!

[natsubeatsrock]

Opinions I’ll Probably get Stoned For: Bleach Edition

Well, it’s time for the second one of these. Today, we’re talking about a series I made a small splash talking about last year around this time. 

Let’s go! 

Look, we’re all obviously entitled to our own opinions, but I’m worried by the fact that so many people didn’t even consider IH to be possible.

I understand the reasoning behind Neliel’s “younger” form, but it feels wrong for me to say “Neliel is my waifu” because of her “younger” form.

Speaking of Nel, I don’t know what happened to her and Grimmjow and I’m too afraid to ask at this point.

Fullbring was a good arc. I don’t even understand why this arc gets so much hate.

I haven’t seen the anime but, from what I’ve heard, this isn’t a bad thing.

Ulquihime was a mistake. I don’t feel even slightly sorry about saying that.

I’ve said this before, but if I got into Bleach about a year earlier than when I got into Fairy Tail, this would likely be a Bleach blog.

I don’t know how the Ichika/Kazui relationship would go past chapter 686. Part of me wonders how similar to Burn the Witch it would be.

WSJ and Shueisha should have given Kubo at least a few more chapters to tie up a couple of loose ends. I love the ending, but I’d like more Bleach.

The parallels between IR and NS make sense for the most part, but at least Naruto canonically liked Sakura.

 I never cared about the “she dried his rain” comment when I read the series on my own.

I like that the weapons of the groups were themed around languages (Japanese, Spanish, English, and German).

Part of me wishes that Kubo leaned into the music imagery more than he did. Part of me wonders how similar it would be to Rave Master if he did, especially coming out two years later.

I don’t like Asterisk as a song. The visuals are great though, taking cues from the manga volumes.

Masaki Kurosaki is my waifu. 

We only needed one chapter in between 684 and 685 to make the series better. Consider I say this and think of Bleach as an 8/10.

Anyone who says “Bleach wasn’t about anything” does not deserve to have their opinions on Bleach taken seriously.

I don’t hate IR. I know that sounds weird given my post from last year, but I don’t have much bad to say about the ship.

I would ship Uryu with Orihime if I thought Uryu liked Orihime even close to that way.  

I pray that I never find myself in any fandom with anything like IR shippers. Fairy Tail almost doesn’t count considering I haven’t seen fans destroying merch yet.

Bleach is my favorite of the Big 3. And if Fairy Tail counts as part of a supposed Big 4, it’s also my favorite among that group too.

See you!

[knifeshoeoreofight]

@sidgenophotochallenge

This fic owes a lot to the following documentary about humpback whale calves. Please watch it sometime, it’s beautiful.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B48ifA0Sw5Y

Disclaimer: I barely scraped through Gen-Ed Bio. Forgive me. I can research but I don’t know how to science. 

The hydrophones have been picking up nonsense for the past three days and Zhenya has had it up to here, honestly.  

He pulls his bulky headphones off and leans back, wincing at the alarming creak of his battered office chair. Maybe if they can get another grant they can finally get some office furniture that isn’t falling apart.

A pipe dream, as it now seems they’re going to have to scrounge up some new audio equipment, fucking hell. He glares mulishly at the spectrogram, willing it to look more like a normal humpback whale vocalization recording.

“S’up G?” Letang asks, closing the screen door to the office with a bang. He’s casually eating a banana with one hand, and is fixing his hair with the other. He drops himself into the other office chair and kicks his feet up on top of a stack of Zhenya’s printouts.

“Recordings from last three days are complete pizdets,” Zhenya says, glaring. “Feet off my fucking papers.”

“Damn, G. Who pissed in your cornflakes?” Letang drawls, but takes his feet off the desk. “And how, pray tell exactly, are they ‘pizdets’?”

“Finally get good position to pick up sounds I’m want. Then there is, interference maybe, all over the audio. Don’t know what is. Radio signal, maybe. Or sound through boat hull? Fucking weird.”

“Weird, huh?” Letang perks up. “Liiike, undiscovered species weird?”

Zhenya makes a dismissive noise,and cues up one of the clearest clips. “All I’m know is ruin three days of recording, and maybe Ma— H-183 will go calve somewhere else.”

“Shouldn’t name the whales, man, it’s bad science,” Letang says, grinning.

“I don’t” Zhenya grumbles, even though he’s definitely been calling the very pregnant H-183 “Magda.” He’s been satellite tracking her since she left the waters off Labrador.

He’s hoping to publish a paper on the vocalizations of pregnant and nursing North Atlantic Humpbacks. He gets teased that he just chose the topic so he can spend his time mooning over baby whales. Which is rich, considering the cooing he’s caught Letang and Fleury doing over his research materials. The French Canadians are here on behalf of The University of New Brunswick, doing research on coral.

The point is, there is a fair amount of work done studying male humpback vocalizations: chiefly of their mysterious songs. But females vocalize too, even if they don’t sing. Zhenya wants to study the communication between mothers and newborns. And to do that, he needs his equipment to fucking function. He can’t miss this window of opportunity. Magda— damn it, H-183, has completed her annual migration from the cold waters of the Maritimes to the clear warm seas of Bermuda to have the calf she’s been gestating for nearly a year.

“Here,” he tells Letang, handing him the headphones. “Listen.” Letang puts them on, and Zhenya presses play. Letang’s look of unconcerned indifference melts into intense, puzzled focus as he listens.

The clip ends, and Letang leans back, slowly. “What the fuck, man.”

Zhenya groans, and rakes his fingers through his hair. “I know. Fucking weird. I’m tell you.”

“Uh huh,“ Letang says, staring into space. “Play it again. You say you have more of this?”

They listen for long minutes, trying to parse the sounds. They’re deeply strange. They almost sound like muffled human voices, which is why Zhenya first thought that maybe the hydrophones were picking up radio. Maybe. He’s not a sound engineer, he doesn’t know if that’s possible. The sounds, though, are so distorted and strange that it’s hard to imagine them coming from a normal radio. There are clicks and buzzes and pops, and even the parts that sound almost human are nothing like words, follow no recognizable patterns of speech.

Letang and he share a glance. The look on Letang’s face is making a cold, prickly feeling spread from Zhenya’s stomach to the rest of his body. He’d dismissed the strangeness of the sounds, hadn’t paid enough attention to it. Explained it away. Letang’s incredulous seriousness is… kind of freaking Zhenya out. Making him think this is something, after all. Not just distorted radio signals. And if it’s not that, then—

“You know what this almost reminds me of,” Letang says, still frowning into the middle distance. “What’s that one African language, the one with the clicks?”

“Xhosa,” Zhenya supplies. “No, it’s not like that. Listen.” There’s a long, almost metallic whrrrrrrr from the recording, followed by a series of clicks, then three deep whooping noises that would almost sound like whalesong, except they aren’t nearly loud enough. And are the completely wrong frequency.

“We should go back out there,” Letang says, slowly. “Put the hydrophones in again. See what we get. Can’t hurt. You need to get more recordings anyway, right? The coral can wait a day or two, it’s not going anywhere.” He smirks at his own joke.

Zheya nods, and stares once again at the spectrograms. They aren’t an annoyance anymore. Now they’re unsettling. That cold, prickly prey instinct is still settled in his bones, and he’s so, so glad Letang is coming out with him tomorrow.

***

They’re up before dawn, hauling gear onto the boat in the pre-sunrise murk. Zhenya checks and double checks the audio equipment, and checks and double checks his data on where Magda— H-183 has been spending her time.

Letang has roped Fleury and Kessel both into the expedition, and even a couple of the undergrads. Zach and Dominik are yawning and sleep-rumpled, but seem pretty thrilled about the entire affair.

“I am hoping it’s some kind of new species,” Dominik says, his lilting Czech accent even thicker this early in the morning.

“Dude, right??” enthuses Zach, clapping his hands on Dominik’s shoulders and rocking him gently back and forth. “I’ll name it after you, bro.”

“Aw, thanks.”

Zhenya laughs to himself a little. He still can’t figure out if they’re actually together or are just super close bros. Not that it matters, really. It’s cute either way.

“Equipment look good?” Letang asks him, leaning over to peer at the hydrophone cables Zhenya is rearranging.

Zhenya shrugs. It’s as good as it’s going to get. Letang claps him on the shoulder, goes to start the engine.

***

It takes them until the sun is up over the horizon to find Magda, but they see her spout before they even have to drop the hydrophones in to listen. Letang cuts the engine, and they drift closer.

Zhenya watches the arch of Magda’s massive back as she slides back under the water. One reason he chose her to study is that she has a deep, distinctive scar digging into her dorsal ridge, probably from getting tangled in commercial fishing nets when she was younger. It makes identifying her at a distance easier.

He drops in one of the hydrophones, and everyone stops what they’re going to crowd around Zhenya’s laptop. At first there’s nothing, just crackling static and water sounds. Magda isn’t making any noise.

Then, a few faint sounds, probably male humpbacks singing miles away. Things quiet again. Zach starts to say something but Fleury shushes him. Time crawls on.

Magda gifts them with some sounds about an hour in,  a couple of low, rumbling “whops” that make Zhenya smile.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he croons at the computer as he notes the timestamp so he can isolate the clip later. Letang wants to make a rude comment, he knows, but thankfully decides to be an adult and restrains himself.

Magda is staying is approximately the same area, as indicated by the spray she sends up when she surfaces to breathe. She’s probably close enough to observe underwater and Zhenya eyes the diving gear they brought along. He’s never actually been in the water with her.

Another of the deep “whop”s from the whale, and then everyone jumps when the strange alien sounds Zhenya had recorded before suddenly crackle through the laptop speakers. A long “whrrrr,” then the same pattern of clicks as on the previous recording.

“Tabernak,” Letang breathes. “Geno, you’re sure that isn’t the whale?”

Zhenya shakes his head. “Sure. Wrong frequency. Not anything recorded from humpbacks before.”

“Is someone gonna go take a look?” Zach asks quietly looking simultaneously excited and terrified someone is going to ask him to do it.

“I’ll go,” Zhenya says. “If nothing, still can record visual observation of Magda.”

Magda Letang mouths at Kessel. Seriously, invertebrate specialists. Assholes, all of them. He goes to ready his scuba gear, leaving the rest of them clustered around the laptop, listening to the noises still issuing from it.

***

When the bubbles from his entry into the water clear, Zhenya almost spits out his regulator in surprise at how close Magda is. The current must have drifted the boat towards her. She’s about fifty meters or less away, drifting motionless mid level in the water column. It’s shallow and clear enough here that he can just make out the bottom, far beneath them both, patches of white sand and darker coral.

She’s so beautiful. Seeing her like this brings new awareness of the sheer size of her. Zhenya can make out the movement of one huge, intelligent eye as she notes his appearance in her realm but doesn’t move. She’s conserving all her energy for the monumental task of delivering her calf into the world.

One pectoral flipper arcs majestically as she keeps herself steady in the water. Zhenya’s chest feels tight with emotion and his eyes water inside his mask. There she is, after all these months. The hope of her embattled species, heavy with the future.

He’s so overcome that he forgets for a moment that he’s supposed to be looking for something else. He turns in a slow circle, keeping in position with slow kicks of his scuba fins. Nothing. Just an infinity of blue, and Magda’s graceful bulk. He makes sure his GoPro is recording in its waterproof housing, and wonders if it will bother her if he ventures just a little bit closer. Just a bit. Can’t hurt, if she’s so calm even with the boat so close.

He makes it maybe a dozen yards closer when he sees something move beneath her, too large to be a remora or some other kind of hitchhiking fish. His first thought is that maybe she had her baby already after all, and then it swims out from under her shadow and comes toward him. And

It’s

There’s a deep, instinctual terror that comes when what you’re seeing does not connect with what your instinct knows to be true. A cold, all consuming flash of sensation as your brain screams “WRONG, THIS IS WRONG” at you. Something left to center of reality. Something moving in a way that it shouldn’t.

Zhenya feels it now, as a figure glides toward him, with smooth, powerful stokes of its.

His. His tail.

Geno’s camera drops from his nerveless fingers.

He doesn’t look like the creatures of myth and legend, at least, not completely. His tail doesn’t sparkle with scales, but has the dull sheen of a shark’s skin. A darker color it’s hard to make out under the water fades to pale skin at his waist. He has dark hair that floats about his face like a cloud, and he snarls at Zhenya, baring sharp canine teeth like an otter’s.

The… merman’s….throat works and jumps, and past the rushing of the blood in his own ears and the hiss of his air supply Zhenya’s can hear sounds like the ones on the recording. A language. His mouth is closed, he doesn’t seem to need to open it to speak.

Deep beneath the animal panic engulfing his brain, the scientist in Zhenya is fascinated.

The merman makes an angry, aggressive gesture, and that’s when Zhenya notices that he’s carrying a wicked looking weapon with a long, curved blade. It has to be made from bone, the handle wrapped in what looks, surprisingly, like nylon rope.

Lost fishing gear and nets the scientific corner of Zhenya’s brain supplies.

The merman’s eyes flick downwards, and he gives Zhenya another baleful look as he dives downwards.

Zhenya follows him with his gaze. You don’t turn your back on a predator, says the prey instinct part of his brain. You don’t turn your back on something so incredible, says the scientist part. Incredible. The word is inadequate and colorless.

Up the merman comes, the muscular undulation of his body and his tail just as eerie and just as beautiful as before. He’s got something clutched in his free hand, Zhenya sees. It’s the GoPro. The merman shakes it at him, scowling, a burst of noise coming from his throat.

Zhenya isn’t sure what he wants. He doesn’t move except to kick his fins to keep himself in position. How much air does he have left? How long has he been down here?

Without thinking, he reaches a hand out towards the camera in the merman’s hand. The merman flinches away, then moves closer, staring at Zhenya’s hand, his arm. Zhenya is wearing a wetsuit, but no diving gloves. The merman reaches out his own hand. His fingers are webbed. His hand closes over Zhenya’s wrist, and Zhenya can feel the iron strength in it.

Is he going to drown me he thinks. Am I going to die right now?

He tugs his arm, panicked, trying to pull it toward himself. A flood of bubbles escape around his regulator and he must scream or make some kind of sound around it, because the merman drops his hand, and lets him go.

Humpbacks hunt with bubble nets, he suddenly remembers. Or use them in dominance displays. What does the merman think the bubbles from his air tank and the hissing sound of his artificially aided breath mean?

He takes a deep gulp of air and pulls the regulator from his mouth. The merman visibly startles. Zhenya almost wants to laugh. Does he think Zhenya just detached some part of his body?

The merman peers at him, leaning in so close Zhenya can see the color of his eyes. Not quite green. Not quite gold.

Zhenya’s lungs are burning. He has to get the regulator back in his mouth. He fumbles it, and with a gasp, sweet oxygen trickles back into his lungs. He kicks his fins to back away, put some distance between the merman and himself.

To his surprise, the merman holds out the GoPro, head tilted in a way that feels very human. Zhenya reaches out again, and takes the camera from him. For some reason he can’t fathom himself (besides possible hysteria) he gives the merman a thumbs up. The merman blinks, then copies the gesture.

Zhenya lets loose a burst of bubbles in an aborted shout of overwrought laughter. A merman just gave him a thumbs up. Belatedly, he tilts the camera at him, sweeps it from his head to the flukes of his tail. Zhenya won’t believe that this actually happened if he doesn’t manage to record something.

The merman startles, then turns around. Over his shoulder, Zhenya can see that Magda is moving, immense tail making a slow downwards stroke as she decides she’s had enough of whatever the two of them are up to. The merman looks between her and Zhenya, eyes narrowed in mistrust, but then must decide that while Zhenya is a conundrum, he has more important things to do. He turns and follows the whale, looking back at Zhenya a few more times until they disappear into the blue.

Suddenly Zhenya is panicked for air, and sun, and a solid surface under his feet. He kicks up towards the dark shape of the boat above wondering what the fuck he’s going to do now.

***

As soon as he’s hauled back on the boat by his colleagues he’s tearing at the straps of his gear, yanking his mask from his face as he gasps for air. He flails out of his BC and his fins, ignoring everyone’s alarmed questioning  and waving off their help, He lies back on the deck and closes his eyes, clutching the GoPro and trying to get his breathing to quiet and return to normal.

When he finally pulls himself to a sitting position, everyone is staring at him.

“We…heard a lot of that noise through the hydrophone,” Fleury says. “What happened?”

Zhenya shakes his head. “You won’t believe me until you see video,” he says, and their eyes all go wide. He ignores another barrage of questions and just points at the boat’s wheelhouse. “Let’s go back. I need to think.”

They give him looks the entire ride back, but he just wraps his arms around his knees and tries to decide what to do.

***

As soon as they get back, secure the boat, and make it back to their research office, Zhenya inserts the Gopro’s SD card into the reader with shaking hands. The footage downloads, and everyone clusters around his computer.

Zhenya watches it in a fog, as everyone around him cries out, swears, and babbles as the merman swims out from behind Magda. When the camera falls, the mount it was on weighs it down in such a way that it continues to point upwards, and Zhenya watches himself and the merman silhouetted against the light of the surface.

He stays silent as they ask him how he got the camera back, then yell when the merman comes and picks it up. The footage continues to play, swinging wildly until the point that Zhenya regains control of it, sweeps it along the entire length of the merman’s body.

When the merman and the whale disappear and the footage ends, they all look as pale and shell-shocked as Zhenya. They exchange glances at each other in silence.

Zhenya isn’t certain of anything anymore. Except two things.

One. They aren’t telling anyone about this.

And two. He’s going right back out there tomorrow.

[ahopefuldoubt]

Scene Analysis: “Deliver Us”

originally posted in 2016 [x].  requested by somehow-you-will.

Childhood memory is a major theme in The Prince of Egypt.  Rameses is haunted by his father’s legacy and abusive words; he’s motivated by his fear of being the weak link in the chain.  Moses is able to whistle and recognize the lullaby he heard when he was just an infant.  Indeed, the day that Yocheved surrenders Moses remains with Miriam and Aaron, too, impacting them in very personal, and unique, ways.  Yocheved’s memory is preserved, her role centralized, both in her children’s ability to recall these early events and in her song, which forms a motif.

It makes sense, then, that Yocheved is the first of the family we see, and hear.  The movie introduces her, and as she passes in front of the camera, her dress sweeps across like a curtain to reveal Miriam and Aaron.  Finally, she unwraps Moses from the veil in which she has been desperately hiding him.

Right away, we’re able to identify this beautiful person as a mother: It is she who ushers her children — our protagonists — into the story.  A symbolic birth, which occurs in the order of their birth.  I think this is significant, for age also affects what they are able to understand and remember about the day.

Miriam is first, and in her close-up she follows her mother’s movements with a quiet, focused expression.  In fact, attentive is a word that describes the entire family; certainly in this scene, but throughout the film as well.

Even as a child, Miriam’s vision seems clear and her devotion strong; though at this point, she is observing Yocheved’s lead, awaiting her mother’s signals.  The “River Lullaby,” with all its prophetic power, has not yet been passed to her.  Already, though, she’s concerned for her baby brother and cognizant of the violence around them — perceptive, also, of the terrible whys and the gravity of their situation.  The way she stares after the Egyptian guards, and looks over her shoulder at the place they’ve fled, double Yocheved’s actions.  As much as these two are reacting in worry and fear to the events, they are doing whatever they can to act upon them.

When I watch this part of the movie, I’m struck by how well “Deliver Us” constructs Miriam’s understanding and her role in both the story and her family.  As the sibling who watches over Moses as he’s carried on the Nile and embraced by his adoptive mother, she becomes the only one who can tell him about his history.  This full experience also supports her sense of optimism and faith; hope is grounded in her memory.  So, she is very much a mother-figure to her two brothers: their source of information, comfort, and a firm but gentle love.

At the same time, the prologue sets up the obstacle in Miriam’s story.  She has the most complete memory, but what she doesn’t know, and does not expect, is that Moses was never told about his origins.  I think this point of shock and disappointment is key, and it’s why I view the scene by the well as an important deconstruction of all three siblings’ childhood memories.

Meanwhile, Aaron’s attentiveness is characterized differently.  In the very first frame, he’s shown gazing after his mother, a question silently forming in his eyes.  The way he quickly turns towards Miriam also speaks to the kind of relationship they have, and will maintain.  Throughout “Deliver Us,” Aaron’s expressions and body language betray a sense of insecurity, which I feel is partly due to his age.  He might be able to obey his mother’s cues, but unlike Miriam, he can’t fully grasp the situation, and his memory is confused, particularly traumatic, as a result.

This vulnerable position is reinforced by the physical contact Aaron keeps with his mother; for instance, he stays by her, and later appears to reach for her hand as they near the river.  Similarly, there are a number of times where Yocheved lays her hand on his head or at his back.  At one point, while they’re still rushing through Goshen, Aaron’s feet carry him a bit too far ahead of his family, and Yocheved pulls him back before he can be seen by the guards.  Her instinct to protect her second-youngest child shines here (she also checks to make sure Miriam is with them before they all set off again).  For the rest of the sequence, it seems like Aaron trails behind Yocheved and Miriam.  I’m not sure if this was a conscious choice made by the animators.

[He’s honestly the cutest, though.  And his hair just kind of sticks up all over the place?]

It’s interesting to me that Aaron’s closeness with their mother is not captured in Moses’ hieroglyphics dream.  Instead, Miriam is holding Yocheved’s hand the entire time.  I like that this shows Moses’ perspective — linking the two women — as well as how subjective dreams can be.

The opening of the film pays special attention to Miriam’s reactions and expressions.  This is critical on a narrative level because she is a central character; as viewers, we need to be able to read her, and understand her connection to Moses.  By contrast, there are more shots of the back of Aaron’s head and fewer direct angles on his face, which tend to obscure our understanding of how this experience is affecting him.  However, it’s really his body language here, along with his general inclination towards skepticism later, that provide the insight we need.  The day is a cruel one, and because he gains no concrete confirmation of Moses’ survival, Aaron’s memory affords little more than chaos and uncertainty.  His reaction upon meeting his brother by the well follows suit with what he can — and cannot — remember and trust.

The difference in focus between Miriam and Aaron also reflects their own dynamic.  She’s the older sibling, and even as children in this scene, she leads (her perspective is more visible) while he follows (his more hidden).  Miriam is the answer to Aaron’s questions.  The certainty to his doubt, in a thematic and personal sense.  There is a moment at the riverbank where Aaron takes Miriam’s hand, and she tugs him forward.  I wonder if he’s holding her hand to reassure her as much as he is seeking comfort for himself.  Or, if he’s (quietly) asking her to move closer.  Regardless, it’s a sweet little interaction that unfolds naturally…

I love how “Deliver Us” is able to establish their bond through visual, rather than verbal, means.  Aaron grows up to be so protective of Miriam, yet he will always be her younger brother, one who has faith in her.  There’s a balance — a constancy and mutual reliance — to their relationship.  They look out for one another, and I think this is clear from the start.

In this analysis, I don’t mean to ignore or downplay the devastating loss happening in this scene.  Many families, including this one, are being torn apart, destroyed.  According to the art book for The Prince of Egypt, the creators took great care in emphasizing childhood memories*.  Even having Moses carry with him a subconscious memory of the “River Lullaby” feels right, authentic.  An affirmation, perhaps, of his lost blood ties.  He and his siblings have different recollections of this painful day, and what I believe “Deliver Us” really accomplishes is laying out, wordlessly**, and for all of them, their connections to the past, to each other, and to their mother.

* The Prince of Egypt: A New Vision in Animation by Charles Solomon, p. 36

** Spoken dialogue-lessly :)

Last edited: 9/26/16

[deltastorm101]

G-Force: A review of one of my childhood games

Wow. To be honest, I wouldn’t have thought this review would ever see the light of day - I always said that I couldn’t write it, not for this game, because I know it way too well, am too biased and too emotionally attached to it. It was hard but here we are!

Time for game 👏 review 👏!

Warning: Spoilers. You know the tea, I won’t straight-up tell you everything from start to finish but it’s nice to have played it yourself (it’s on Steam!). Or go watch a let’s play or two. Or look at screenshots.

There is a major spoiler at the end but there will be an extra warning beforehand.

How do I even start this? I love this game to death and beyond. I basically grew up with it, it was one of the two games my childhood gaming life consisted of (the other one being Bolt - you know, the superpower dog), so there is no way this will be objectively or neutrally written. (As if anything else I wrote is xD)

And: it still runs, surprisingly! Admittedly, I did have some problems with the CD version when I updated to Windows 10 some years ago but the Steam version runs like a freshly refuelled Ferrari.

So, some context, in case you have not played it or watched any gameplay clips: In this game, which came out 2009 based on the movie with the same name, you play as Darwin, who’s an armed guinea pig, and you fight against household appliances, who have come to life and sure know how to defend themselves. The special force you fight amongst is approved and commissioned by the government, yet you cannot be seen by the humans/security personnel patrolling the place(s). It’s your goal to stop the appliances from forming a gigantic entity threatening to destroy mankind and the world it populates, together with four other rodents you’ll mostly hear over radio and only occasionally see and/or interact with. You with me? Good. Then let’s start.

The attention to detail is one of the most important things why I think this game has such a distinct and unique style, which becomes clear in, for example, the amount of hidden off-track routes. It’s not open world or anything, but you’re pretty often offered an alternative way to finish a task, and not just for something like a collectible. I called this “diversity in linearity”. One way in, one way out, but a whole lot to explore in between – more than in other games which are similar in style. I also love how the game makes the player trace back to something familiar, for example having the entry area as the finishing area, and making it interesting by hiding a mechanic there you can only uncover and use as soon as you’ve acquired it between areas and then return.

The level design in general is a big plus - the levels are inventive and colourful and just so nicely made. You can see and feel the love and heart that was poured into the futuristic and cool looking environments, floors, rooms and grounds, and the enormous variety of the different appliances’ attacks you have to fight against and adjust to is amazing.

The amount of hidden collectibles you can get is refreshing. There are SaberSense chips (the currency), there are silver data discs (the weapon upgrades). And that’s it.

There are also golden discs to get new weapons but you kind of get them automatically as the story progresses, so I excluded them here.

Regarding the fact that such an awful lot of games these days seem to need SO many unrewarding and useless collectible items, it feels so good to have an upgrade system actually worth and worthwhile to use and take advantage of. You find upgrades which are hidden in the world. You buy them with currency at vending kiosks. Period. We need to let older games teach us how to do it, apparently.

Very clear audio- and visual clues and cues always help you find your way through puzzles, which does make it less challenging as soon as you figured out what to look out for, but it also makes it more fun in a way. Not everything has to be a challenge, and if you’re playing this game while being older than 13 you are most likely just in it for exactly this - the fun. Of course, this game is intended for younger players like I was when I first played it, which might be one of the reasons it’s so colourful and always wants to really make sure you get the controls and master them well before it throws some more difficult stuff at you. There’s a ‘weapon’ solely for the purpose of scanning enemies and the environment to find out weak points and gather information, so even if you were to leave and then come back to the game, there’s a high chance of immediately finding your way back into it, even if you forgot some stuff.

On the subject of weapons, simple remark: I like the equipment and its system. There are eight weapons in total, five of them for pure shooting combat, which you acquire as the game progresses. You can choose from them in three slots and change them at any time. Melee attacks are done via some kind of electro-shocking whip, which can also be used to open boxes. Agility is achieved by a backpack-sized jetpack, allowing you to reach high ledges, bridge over pits and traps or run faster right from the beginning of the game.

Cool system, easy to understand and explainable in four sentences. And my god, are the guns nicely designed.

The game reusing audio clips (music, not dialogue) makes a nice touch too - one could argue “why didn’t the devs compose enough for every level yaddayadda” but I feel like recognizing certain songs makes you feel like... returning home or seeing an old friend or something. (Oh wow, why so poetic today? This is a review, get it together.)

So, about combat and enemy difficulty: these days, being older and really knowing this game’s ins and outs pretty well by now, none of the enemies is a real challenge anymore. Though when I first played it, I remember being SO UNRATIONALLY AFRAID of that CD player when I first battled it and discovered that it was... a real pain in the ass. xD Whenever I encountered it later in the game I rAN AWAY like mad and placed myself somewhere high where I was safe and could observe everything, to finish it off safely and without suffering heart attacks. (Yes, I might have been a little too young for it, but what can I say... if I liked something, I got into it. Really into it. Heh.)

Same goes for soda coolers, by the way. And paper shredders, if I can’t destroy them. And water coolers. And torches. They can all go f-

Yes, I’m fine. Yes, I’ll become a major soon. Uh. Moving on...

Okaaay, let’s list some “negative” points too, I guess, to not have it be a completely unobjective essay of praise...

Of course, the game being from 2009, the graphics and audio quality can’t be the best anymore, but that’s just called progress. You get used to it after some time – however, the audio frequency of the characters speaking over radio always has and always will grate on my ears... which might be because I’m used to clear and crisp sounding audio in newer games nowadays, which, again, can’t be compared to this game anymore and should be treated as technological progress, just like the graphics.

(Major spoiler warning here. Read on at your own risk.)

The very last level/chapter falls kind of flat. Mooch (the fly that’s able to get Darwin through locked doors and stuff) is a nice mechanic, and sometimes crucial to important story elements, but he’s a side character, and finishing the game with him leading an entire level has felt weird then and still feels weird today.

I need to mention the differences to the movie. Which isn’t a positive aspect nor a negative one - the game is an action game, while the movie combines action with comedy. The movie wouldn’t work as the game and the game wouldn’t work as the movie, simple as that. The fact that Ben takes up such a different role plays into that as well. In the game he just acted as the (human) background big boss who told everyone what to do, while he was a much more developed character in the movie. Which is fine now that I think about it - he wouldn’t have fitted as well into the game’s plot and storyline anyway. Same with the role of a different character I won’t name here because I consider it too big of a spoiler :P

The story in general could be described as... nice. But as I said, narrative or character development isn’t the focus of the game and therefore not its strongest suit.

So. G-Force.

I loved it then and I still love it to this day. This “review” is my homage to a game that is very near and dear to my heart... I hope I could do it justice.

[howrv]

Fargo's Museum Ranch: Chapter 4

Visually, the ranch was pristine but weathered, much like Fargo. They both have withstood storms, and it showed. The twisting winds are brutal coming off the nearby Chiricahua Mountains. At one moment you see a sand storm in the distance, swirling tornados, ejecting white plumes high in the air. Then in seconds, the swirl overtakes you. There is no light. It is like someone ripped the sun from the sky and you are being blasted and tossed by sand at 40 to 60 mph. You are blinded. Becky and I have experienced such a storm driving our bus on I-10 in the New Mexican desert. The most terrifying 30 seconds of my life.

But the Museum Ranch stands as it has for decades, everything in its place choreographed by a master set director. There are a dozen or so sheltered gathering spaces (sitting areas) around the ranch. Each unique and all displaying memorabilia and photos of movie stars with their arms draped on the shoulder of a younger Fargo. These gathering spots are in the corner of barns, under carriage sheds, by fire pits, attached to a hen house or upstairs over a storage shed. In each one, there are places and porches to sit and talk. Some have a few chairs and benches, while others have a few metal milk crates turned on end, or maybe a log for us to straddle. But most notably, in every space there was a single armed chair with a padded seat were Fargo would hold court to a captive audience of us.

There was always music playing in the background. Radio set to a Mexican station or a phonograph player softly emitting vocals of Patsy Cline, Hank Snow, Rex Allen, and Ernest Tubb. Signature cowboy songs. A perfect underscore to match our cinematic imaginations, while Fargo told stories of the old west.

While Becky and Fargo were chatting, I was admiring a Stetson hat and removed it from a hook on a post. Barton was quick to tell me that I should "replace it like I found it" because if it were 1/8 inch off, or rehung askew Fargo would notice.

Fargo and his ranch hands each had a few trucks. Quattro even had a Cadillac. But all vehicles were stashed behind a grove of mesquite or under the back side of a shed, not distracting from the perception that we were back in the late 1800's. An electric golf cart was the only hardware that belied the visual genera. Fargo needed it's assistance to get around and check on things. He would fatigue quickly and often pulled out an inhaler from his jeans to allay coughing and breathlessness. But at 89, he was still leaner and keener than most of our friends just reaching retirement age.

We climbed aboard the electric cart and set out to see the ranch. He rode us to where stagecoaches and chuck wagons were stored. The one carriage with a large frame, Jonny Cash liked best. Quartto pointed out the chuck wagon used by Lee Marvin and Brian Keith in The Quest and Monty Walsh. There was the stagecoach Maureen O'Hare while swishing her petticoats climbed in and rode off, in Big Jake. He pointed out items used in McClintock, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, wagons from the Little House pilot, saddles and spurs from Three Amigos and yokes and harnesses that accompanied the mule teams in Bonanza. Most, he said, he had sold or left back in Old Tuscon where we visited last year. But he still had an amazing collection of important antiquities from the silver screen.

He called our attention to an old blacksmith's anvil. "That thing weighs 350 pounds," he said with half grin half grimace. "You know how I know?" To which I gave a shrug. "Arnold Schwarzenegger picked the damn thing up and told me," Fargo grinned, adding emphasis by raising his eyebrows up and down three or four times making his hat bob on his head.

Homing pigeons moved in and out of their roosts. Fargo explained how intelligent they were and their dependable characteristics. He supplied Old Tuscon with birds for many movies. So if you are watching an old John Ford western and you see birds a flight, they were probably trained by our friend Fargo to fly on cue.

Once he was commissioned to provide deer for a scene of the animals running through prairie. The scene was to be shot from above from a helicopter. However, the producers were prohibited from herding or using live game in a shoot. So Ole' Fargo rigged antlers on his goats, placed them at one end of a canyon and put Barton at the other end of the canyon with the pappa goat to call the "deer herd." The helicopter lifted off and the scene was captured in one take.

We headed down a fence line on the safe side of longhorn steer and bulls to a wood-hewn building with a cross on the front. Quattro hobbled in with us as we entered the chapel.

At the front, centered between two wood beams was a large print of the last supper, the one depicting the servant in the foreground. On the right was a pulpit draped in a colorful sarape blanket with two wooden slats tied in a cross on the front. Behind the pulpit was a statue of The Madonna and another cross above it. On the walls were Indian ceremonial feathers and bells, a menorah, a yarmulke, and plastic flower arrangements. Beside the pulpit was a photo of Mother Teresa and The Pope.

On the left side of the chapel was a firebrick altar with a leaded glass backdrop. A brass cross leaned against a wood mantle and two tin cups dangled below. Fargo retrieved a now extinct, Blue Diamond self-striking match from a Ball Jar, scratched it across the brick, and began lighting several candles. I was about to cross myself or genuflect when Fargo broke my reverence and uttered, "Yeah, I've got all kinds of religious shit in here. I've got Protestant shit, Catholic shit, Jewish shit, Indian shit, and we've even had a few weddings. Quattro there's a minister, and he officiates," gesturing to Quattro who was now standing behind the podium gripping both sides firmly.

Quattro, the minister, told us a little of his story while standing behind the pulpit. He had originated in Pensylvania and came out to Arizona to visit his brother at UofA in Tucson. He met Fargo on set at Old Tucson, fell in love with the west and never went back. He helped Fargo with the animals, worked as a bronc rider and stuntman, and fit into the movie business as Fargo's sidekick.

After blowing out the candles on the altar, we left the church and headed down the lane, opening and closing gates behind us. We drove onto open range where fifty miles of sagebrush, tumbleweed, and sand lay in front of the jagged Chiricahua mountains where we hiked just days before. We arrived at a clump of mesquite trees that shaded seven grave sites. We sat on benches and listened as Fargo told us stories about each ranch hand who was buried there. His words were kind with a deep appreciation for their service.

We carted back to the coffee pot area. It was 2 pm. Fargo moved his chair from in front of the padlocked door and opened it. The door swung inward to reveal a saloon right out of the movies. Four stools, a swinging door, and a bar lined with bottles of whiskey, bourbon, and tequila in front of mirrored glass. Hanging behind the bar were cowboy hats, Indian headress, scores of photographs, lanterns, spurs, feathers, beads and oh yes, an Indian scalp. I wasn't too surprised when he pointed out the spur marks in the oak bar top.

We looked through his stacks of 12-inch long-play records. An impressive collection. Becky chose Hank Snow and we enjoyed a few cold ones while Fargo told more stories of movies and the stars he knew.

We had spent the entire day with three of the most interesting men I've ever met. We learned more about animals, birds, Indians, history and movies, than I had in a lifetime. But this was just the first day of three. The next day we were to bring our forty-foot Allegro Bus (our Home On Wheels) and park right in the middle of The Museum Ranch, 12 miles and a hundred years from town.

[dramaqueeenamby]

In Da’ Club

A/N: This is loosely inspired by the TV show Sister Sister. The episode where Tia and Tamera....welll, I’m sure you’ll pick up on it! ;) 

In which you, T’Challa, Erik, Erik’s girlfriend, Shuri, and someone else all set out for a night at the club. 

Words: 2432

Visuals of the ladies as follows:

In Da’ Club

“Absolutely not!”

“Y/N!”

“No, Erik!” Y/N said more forcefully. “That is a terrible idea.”

“That’s what you say about everything that I suggest!” He threw his hands up to show his frustration.

“Well then perhaps you should stop making suggestions altogether.” She shook her head and noticed a group of boys surrounding a smaller boy. “If you wanna do something, you can go help him.”

Erik dragged his eyes over to the scene and rolled them before sauntering over.

“Ya know, I for one am not always Team Erik, but he might be onto something, girl,” Deja commented innocently from her position on Y/N’s side.

“Deja…”

“Come on, Y/N.” Deja practically whined. “You were the captain of your school’s dance team in high school and led your team to nationals while in college.”

She paused. “I fail to see the relevance.”

Deja sucked her teeth. “You mean to tell me that you and your girls never went out to celebrate?” Silence. “Mmmhmmm.”

“That was different, Deja. I was younger and a co-ed. We were all trying to have a good time.”

“You make it sound like you’re an old woman. You’re 26 girl. What 26-year-old doesn’t wanna hit up the club?”

“I’m not opposed to going to the club.” She sighed. “I’m opposed to taking T’Challa with me.”

“So, we’ll leave him behind at the hotel.” Deja shrugged.

Y/N cut her eyes. “You know damn well he is not about to let me go anywhere without him at least 10 feet away, especially with you and Erik.”

Deja pouted. “What are you trying to say? That we don’t know how to act in public.”

“You don’t, Deja!”

“That is not true!”

“I have one word for you.” Y/N deadpanned. “Paris.”

“Th-those charges were dropped!”

“I rest my case.” She shook her head.

“Okay.” Deja took on a solemn expression. “I suppose we’ll just have to go by ourselves….unattended….without supervision.”

Y/N’s eyes started to widen. The last time Erik and his girlfriend had gone out, her poor fiancé had to intervene to even get them out of the damn country.

She didn’t want that kind of stress on this trip.

“Okay, fine!” She finally relented as Deja squealed loudly and grabbed her to pull her into a side hug. “But I mean it, the second you two start acting out, we are out of there!”

Deja blew out a breath. “You are no fu-what the hell is that boy doing?”

Y/N turned to look at Erik, her eyes maximizing almost immediately. “Erik! Release his ankles now!”

As Y/N ran over to stop the prince from potentially harming a minor, Deja stood there and started to think about what she would wear.

“This is gonna be fun.”

* * * * *

“Don’t leave this room, don’t leave the hotel, don’t leave the state, don’t be having nobody up in this bitch while we gone, especially no goddamn lil’ burning ass niggas-“

“What can I do?” Shuri asked with a voice full of irritation.

“Breathe,” Erik replied with 100% honesty. “But don’t be doing too much of that shit either. American air is full of pollutants and shit.”

T’Challa shook his head as he looked over at his sister. “You are free to order room service, a movie, anything to keep you occupied until we return.”

“I just can’t leave the hotel.” The teenager sassed.

“It is for your protection, sister.”

“Ya’ damn straight.”

Y/N sent the young girl a sympathetic expression. “We’ll be back-“

“I am ready to depart.” M’Baku walked into the room, his traditional attire swapped out for modern clothes.

The four adults froze, none aware that the leader of the Jabari tribe planned on tagging along.

“M’Baku, I did not realize you were coming with us.” Deja laughed nervously.

“Aw hell no, this nigga finna be barking the whole damn night,” Erik muttered as his girlfriend elbowed him in his side.

“Why would I not?” He smiled broadly. “Is the purpose of this trip not to introduce me to American culture?”

“It is,” Y/N replied. “It’s just that the club is…well…it’s a bit much to take in if you’re unfamiliar with the customs.”

“Ha. Even more reason for me to attend,” he affirmed as T’Challa sent his fiancé a way to go look.

“Alright, listen Clifford the Big Jabari Dog, ain’t gon be none of that Que whooping and hollering shit.”

Shuri snickered from her spot on the sofa. “Perhaps being stuck here won’t be so bad after all.”

* * * * *

“But why do the young woman dress so provocatively?”

“Because they all hoes!”

“The gardening tool?”

“Somebody get this nigga away from me.” Erik referred to M’Baku who had been pestering the group with questions the whole night.

“M’Baku, wouldn’t you like to go dance?”

“Sure, when will it commence?”

Y/N clenched her eyes. “It has, M’Baku. That is what they are doing.”

This time, T’Challa’s interest was piqued as he looked over to the crowd. “How? They are simply gyrating with one another.”

“That’s the point!” Y/N snapped before leaning back against the plush seat. “I need a drink.” Y/N moaned as she threw her head backward.

“Of course, my love. Would you like some water, apple cider, or maybe a carbonated beverage?”

Had the music not been so loud, the group would have heard her whimpering.

Erik looked over at Deja who was taking a picture for Snapchat before he snatched the phone out her hands.

“What the fuck?” She hit him on his arm. “Give me back my phone, Erik!”

“You best not be talking to no niggas.” He warned while going through her friend list.

“And if I am?” She sucked her teeth, grabbing her iPhone out his hands.

“Ask one of them to get your ass back to Wakanda.” He shot easily. “We’ll see how far that gets you.”

“Man, whatever Erik.” She blew off his threat and stood up. “Come on, Y/N. Let’s go dance.”

The queen to be froze momentarily. “I don’t know….”

“You should dance, little one.” M’Baku encouraged. “Go join the rest of the hoes in their merriment!”

“Deja, wait up.”

* * * * *

Y/N did not realize how much she had missed her electric nights out at the club from her college years. No, it wasn’t the club itself that gave her a buzz but rather the idea of letting loose and having fun that gave her a high.

She’d only been on the floor for two minutes when the DJ decided to transition into throwbacks, the sound of “Bring it Back” taking her to a time where she used to dominate the dance floor.

She and Deja danced with each other, twerking and all, not caring about the stares and occasional phones she saw that were recording the interaction.

She knew she’d probably be on the blogs the following morning but honestly did not care. She truly was having a good time.

“Sex on the beach, please.”

“Make that two,” Deja added on as they took a break and sat by the bar. “Girl, I knew you still had it in you.”

Y/N cheeks tinted red. “I suppose I did not realize just how…closeted I've become compared to my college days.”

“See what happens when you party with Deja.” She teased. “Ya’ bitch wanna party with Deja.”

“Cartier Bardi in a 'Rari,” Y/N finished the line while running her hands over her sequined dress. “Diamonds all over my body.”

The two laughed and thanked the bartender as he brought them their drinks. They continued to joke around until the glasses were finished, prompting the young women to revisit their significant others in the VIP section.

“Come dance with me,” Y/N pouted while plopping down on top of her fiancé.

T’Challa chuckled, smelling the alcohol on her breath. “Did you enjoy your drink?”

“If I say no, will you dance with me?” She proposed, wrapping her arms around his neck and speaking against his temple.

“This is your element, not mine.”

She started to glare when another thought crossed her mine.

“These hoes ain’t loyal,” M’Baku spoke with uncertainty at first before finishing the statement with confidence.

“You got it!” Erik clapped and nodded his head with glee. “Maybe there’s hope for your M’Baku the giant looking ass yet.”

“You ain’t right.” Deja shook her head and grabbed Erik’s hand. “Let’s go.”

He raised his brow. “Now you wanna dance with a nigga?” A beat. “Naw ma’. Better go call Whitney.”

“She’s dead.”

“Not my problem.”

Deja groaned and pulled on him. “Come on, Erik.”

“What’s in it for me?”

She smirked and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “If you dance with me now, I’ll dance on you tonight when we get back to the room.”

The prince grew smug, slowly standing up as he allowed her to lead the way. “This why I keep your fine ass around.”

Similar to Deja, Y/N also promised her lover a night of intimate trysts, effectively getting him on the floor.

She smiled as T’Challa correctly gained a firm grasp on her hips, pulling her ass against his crotch. She looked over her shoulders to give him a bit of advice. “Just stay with me.”

As if on cue, “Walk It Like I Talk It” by Migos started playing. Erik, of course, knew exactly what do do, guiding Deja as she moved against him, the two sneaking in sloppy, drunk kisses.

T’Challa took a moment longer to catch on, but even his fiancé was shocked when he started reciprocating her actions, adequately matching her sensual movements.

Several songs played that had the whole club hype. Even M’Baku had attracted a dance partner, the monolithic warrior in pure bliss as a gorgeous woman with flawless chocolate skin and a plump ass twerked on him.

However, the crowd went completely ballistics at the sound of one iconic line:

Cash Money Records taking over for the '99 & the 2000

Everybody started piling in on the dance floor, even the ones who were readying to head out turned around when Back That Azz Up filled the room.

Deja and Y/N held nothing back as they danced with Erik and T’Challa, the future queen of Wakanda moaning when her man started to whisper all of the things he planned to do to her when they got back to the hotel.

“Maybe we should go out more often.” She whispered as he started sucking on her neck, her head bobbing to the side. She was about to shut her eyes when something, or rather, someone caught her attention. “Shuri?!”

“Shuri?”

Fuck

T’Challa immediately stopped his assault on her neck, his head snapping around to look for signs of his little sister.

Y/N returned her eyes to where the scientist was and sure enough, there was Shuri, laughing, dancing with….her boyfriend?

What the hell was he doing there?

“You saw Shuri?” T’Challa demanded of her as Y/N struggled with a response.

“I-uh-“

“Shuri?” Erik chimed in as Y/N realized shit was about to get real. “I know lil’ bit don’t have her fast ass up in here.” He growled. “Where she at? Imma kill that girl!”

“Perhaps it was someone who just looks like her?” Deja suggested.

Y/N said nothing because she knew that was not the case, especially since she also saw D’Kar.

“Where did you see her?” T’Challa pressed, his voice alluding that he was not about to accept anything other than the truth.

“She-it was-“

“Y/N!”

“Fuck that,” Erik grunted before making his way through the crowd, not that anyone was trying to stay in his path.

“What the hell is he doing?”

Deja, T’Challa, and Y/N watched in horror as he hopped up on stage and grabbed the mic from the DJ.

“Fuck you looking at me like that for?” He hissed as the disc jockey dropped his judgmental gaze in less than a second. “It’s not like you all that good anyway. Got the nerve to play some goddman Boom Boom Pow after the legendary Juvenile. Man, get your anorexic, Mr. Brown looking ass up off this stage before I Uncle Phil you off.”

The man wasted no time in running off the stage as he Erik beat on the mic.

“Now I’m only gonna say this shit once cause you know who you are,” he started. “And you know damn well you ain’t got no business being up in here with grown folks.” The crowd was clearly mumbling amongst themselves, no one brave enough to try to interrupt the livid man up on the stage. “And I should out your sneaky ass, but I won’t cause a nigga nice like that.” A beat. “But I swear to Bast, you got till the count of three to get the hell up out of here before I turn this bitch inside out.” He held up one finger. “One-“

He didn’t even get a chance to count any further because a surprisingly large group of people started heading for the exit.

“Sthandwa sam-“

Y/N sighed loudly. “I’m on it.” She shut her eyes opening them back up to reveal that they were completely white. Thick, dense, and barely visible fog filled the club as partiers struggled to see, unable to make their speedy retreat.

Of course, there was one person who could still see. In fact, Shuri happened to be one of the first people that he located.

He politely marched over to her as she looked over at him with nothing but nerves.

“Sister.”

Shuri gulped. “Brother, fancy seeing you here.”

“Is that the nigga?” Erik shouted from atop the stage noticing the young man standing beside Shuri was surprisingly managing a brave face.

Y/N groaned and thought of something. “Wait a minute….where’s M’Baku?”

The leader of the Jabari tribe was nowhere in sight, absent from the spot they had last seen him.

“That nigga like eight feet tall, he can take care of himself.” Erik scoffed while hopping off the stage. “You, however, done fucked up.” He spoke while marching toward

“Erik no-“ Shuri tried to stop him from charging at D'Kar by standing in front of him. “It’s not his fault. It was my idea to come here.”

“Well, you are leaving. Now.” T’Challa demanded, the ire radiating off his solid build. “And as far as you,” he turned to D’Kar. “This matter will be resolved.”

“Damn straight it will,” Erik spoke once again. “Soon as I kick your motherfucking ass.”

“Erik, no!”

Perhaps the club wasn’t such a good idea after all.