#when she's actually credited as an executive producer

[manichewitz]

i dont think yall understand how floored i was when i found out that the interview with the vampire books are actually incredibly erotically gay for real and not just light queercoding or fan's gay ships?? bc this changes everything. i had always assumed anne rice hated fanfic authors for making her male characters fuck, but no, she just wanted to be the only author making her male characters fuck

[fillinforlater]

On her jeans (Part 2 of 3)

Male Reader x Kim Minji, Pham Hanni (ft. Jisoo, Seungyeon, Seolhyun)

Length: 8018 words

Tags: You know what? How about no tags. Yes, really. This is very similar to the rest of the On her series, especially cuz it's a Part 2. Go have fun, I know you will have it ;)

TW: rushed editing, a terrible friend, nothing but sex matters

Inspiration: @sooyadelicacies

Credit: @sooyadelicacies for being a fantastic co-writer!

-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part3-

(A/N: This fic has it all: from three cameos to rapid fire scene changes to betrayal to an all-time threesome combo. Have fun with these grown-ass women!)

"What the fuck, Unnie?" 

"What?" Kazuha says, not even bothering to turn her attention to the young girl. 

"He… I—" 

The ballerina then turns around to see tears forming in Minji's eyes. This is how so many of them must have looked when the realization came crashing over them like a merciless tsunami. Did I really just do this? Is it worth it? Will he ever have enough?

"As he should." Kazuha's expression turns cold, uncaring.  "I did exactly what you asked me to. I sent you to him. It looks like you weren't good enough for him. That's on you. If you can't stick it out, maybe you aren't cut out for all of this." 

"What—do you really feel that way? Is that why you do it?" Minji sobs.

"At the start sure, but now I know: he is my whole world, all that I could need or want. 

“I love him," Kazuha says with unflinching conviction.

"Really?" Minji shouts and Kazuha quickly shuts her up with a palm on her sore lips.

"Yes, really, and if you screw this up, I swear, I'll make your life a living hell." Kazuha looks around the long corridors of the Hybe building. She then removes her hand from Minji's lips and unexpectedly dives straight to the younger’s ear. "You can be a good girl for him, call him Master or Daddy and get your brains fucked out—but don't ever get in between us. When the time is right, I'll be the only one for him.

"Is that clear?"

"Y-yes, Zuha-unnie."

"Good. Now, what did he say you need to do?"

#

A seemingly never ending, vicious cycle starts for Minji. She works her butt off, dances the entire day, goes through hours of meetings, recordings—and instead of going to bed every day, she takes every conceivable measure to go straight to your office. 

She walks in, lays on the table and waits for you to finish a call. At first, it's a mystery who you are talking to, but she finds out that it's all kinds of producers, managers, executives and most importantly—idols.

"So how is everything going?" Jisoo dreamily asks from the other end of the line.

"Well, I almost fucked up,” you respond in all honesty and drop your pants. “I almost slipped and told one of the new prospects they reminded me of you." 

Jisoo's face softens and smiles. It’s like you can hear every movement of her facial bones. "Oh? Care to tell me who? Is she prettier than I was back then?" 

"Impossible," You say sincerely. 

"You're sweet, but don't think you're off the hook for that little quick tryst you had with Jennie. Rosie's sad about it. You need to make it up to her. And you need to make it up to me too." Jisoo says the last part a bit forcefully and you imagine scrunches on her face to show you her seriousness.

"I know,” you sigh and rub a finger along Minji’s throat and cheeks without thinking about her or the incredible sensation of her skin. “I will, I will. I miss you." 

"I know you do. You tell me every time we talk. I miss you too, Daddy.” That’s always how Jisoo finishes a long distance conversation. She wishes you were there, with a hand in her panties. She wants to moan your name into your ear, your actual name, and not scream it out when rubbing one out under some hotel bed sheets. But Jisoo will have to wait.

The moment you finish the call, you start to pull out your hard cock and press it into Minji’s wide open mouth. She makes sure to keep her lips moisturized at all times, but she can never be ready for the strong impact of your hips hitting her head and rocking her back and forth on the desk.

With every single one of those meetings, Minji's clothes become more revealing, to the point she gasps whenever she sees herself in a public mirror. People on the train start to watch her round ass bounce in short shorts, then in very short shorts, then in a miniskirt.

Minji wonders how she is able to push through this. Her sleep gets shorter, the training rougher, the meetings more intense—worst of all, you become more violent too. It all reaches a peak when Minji is unable to shower because otherwise she would be too late. 

In her dirty, sweaty state, she sprints to your office and bursts through the door, just to be greeted by the sight of you roughly fucking—destroying—the huge ass of a familiar idol.

"You are fuck-ing late!" you growl and slam the bendover idol against the desk a final time. Minji hurries around the wooden monstrosity to get into her, by now well-known position. It is then that she realizes who you are fucking: Seungyeon, the former dancer of CLC.

"What are you?" you shout at Seungyeon and smack her ass hard.

"Your stupid, bubble-butt bitch, Master," she wails in a weird mix of pain and euphoria. She gets a tap on said bubble-butt with your cock.

"How do you want it, bitch?"

"Harder, Master."

"What are you going to get?"

"What Master wants."

"Exactly."

Minji lets her head hang off the edge, only a few inches away from where you annihilate Seungyeon's dignity and her asshole with your inches. Both you and the idol grunt like animals in heat, but for her it sounds blissful, for you more like work.

And so Minji lays there, drenched in sweat, and the weirdness of being forced to watch other people fuck never really fading. It's stranger the more she has seen or admired an idol. No matter who, everyone she saw has folded to you, and Seungyeon might be the most submissive. How she degrades herself and begs for you to ruin and spit on her—

"Good bitch, keep your ass gaping!"

Suddenly, the cock is on Minji's face and she looks past it in shock. Your expression, though a bit exhausted, remains stern.

"Open fucking wide, Minji," you command and Minji gulps. This cock has just been in Seungyeon's ass, maybe for hours, and though it looks spotless, she can't bring herself to—

Minji gasps and that is enough. You push against her lips, into her mouth and start to use it to 'clean' yourself—really, it is just training for Minji to trust you and accept your commands.

Though her first reaction was a gag of disgust, Minji has to admit to herself quickly that Seungyeon's ass on your cock tastes great. It's an embarrassing secret which she will never tell anyone.

You switch between the holes a couple more times before creaming Seungyeon. While Minji has her final cleaning session, you order the older idol to clean Minji's feet and calves off sweat.

No hesitation, Minji realizes, as Seungyeon does not leave out an inch of her skin.

Seungyeon isn't the only one showing complete devotion to you and your every order. You've had a few other idols over before or after Minji's throat-stretching. The young soon-to-be idol knew them, but they weren't the stars yet she saw in your profile list. The thought that you might have been bluffing with controlling the likes of Blackpink, aespa or Red Velvet crossed her mind, but they faded whenever she thought of Kazuha's success.

She wants that too, no, Minji wants to pass Kazuha and so she comes back to you, no matter how hard the companies’ training is fucking her. Then finally comes the day—actually, the day before the day. 

The not-yet NewJeans member lays on your table. She returned from the final pre-debut meeting and was ready for you to quickly walk in and fuck her face, but you never came. For endless hours, the entire fucking night, Minji had to lay there and wait. She could've left at any time, but the gravity of this situation, this presumed test, pulled her down to the flat, wooden surface. 

No matter how uncomfortable it got, she did not stand up. You could be around the corner at any second. The thought of her giving up right as you walk in gave Minji a weird mixture of fear and arousal, further amplified when she had to keep herself from falling asleep. A hand in her soaked panties, Minji played the fantasy out in her head:

You would walk in and find her asleep. Angry by her inability to follow orders and service her Master, you decide to punish her. When you find her panties wet, the desk covered in girl juice, you wouldn't hesitate to plunge into Minji's tight, virgin cunt and fuck her awake. It would hurt, but Minji wouldn't stop cumming!

She can't stop cumming, her fingers rub her clit to completion and now real juice runs down your desk. Minji is wide awake, but an hour later, she does it again, again, again, until you finally enter the room. Casually, as if Minji isn't completely spent and almost fully naked on your work desk.

The sparkle in her eyes is priceless. Out of all the crazy shit you pulled on this formerly innocent virgin, this was the task that broke her. You don't know the exact moment, but you will never forget this moment where you see her orbs and know that she is past her prostitute stage.

"This is actually impressive," you say with a coy smile while gently caressing Minji's forehead. "I see you... had fun last night?"

"Sorry, Master," Minji carefully apologizes and kisses your hand. "I made a mess."

"Don't worry, I'll call someone to clean it later. Now, get on your knees and show me what you have learned."

She is dizzy, barely able to stand, but luckily, Minji's place is at your feet, hands wrapped around your length. Her strokes are soft, careful, and she does not wait to use her tongue on you. After a minute, she sees the impatience in your look and uses her mouth. Quickly it’s wrapped around your tip and for the first time ever, Minji fucks her face on your cock.

"Oh, fuck!" you exclaim. There is some actual joy in that, especially when you can lazily put Minji's hair in a makeshift ponytail and watch her go down on your crotch in surprisingly quick succession. "This is good, this is fucking—great!

"Hold still."

Your heart pumps like crazy, but it's nothing compared to your hips which start to obliterate Minji's throat. Your cock bulges her visibly and she starts to shake. Usually, she'd have her teeth at spots where they don't belong, but at long last, she has learned. 

She takes it well, like a slut should. Not yet one of your perfect sluts however. It's all a bit rushed; her debut, the training, the stretching. Considering this, she is definitely good and her gags sound delicious. 

You pull out of her mouth. Minji triest to catch her breath, instead catches three of your fingers which you also use to fuck her mouth while locking eyes. The salty tears that stream from hers look so delicious and you love how, no matter how many chokes you force out of her, there is no fight or flight response. She takes it.

"Become sloppy, slut, get your drool out. I want to see you become a mess for your Master!"

Minji twitches. She is dazed, your fingers become glazed; then an avalanche spurts forth, of more tears and drool that starts to cover her chin and stain your floor. You want more, so you replace your fingers with your cock and fuck her throat again, never slowly, only hard and fast. At this point, the poor girl beneath you is dehydrated and the pool on her thighs and the tiles excessive. You stop.

"Fuck, this is what I mean. This is how you suck cock, Minji."

"G-glad you l-like it—Master."

"Go clean up your mess."

"Yes, Master."

When Minji goes down to lick and suck her saliva from the floor, you rest your shiny, polished shoe on her cheek and bask in the faint sun, dawning right before your office window.

"You will go home and sleep," you order firmly. "The only contact we will have is when you send me a video of you masturbating in your debut panties. Send me those panties in the mail, and you'll soon lift your first music show trophy."

Lean down after Minji has collected all the slick and press an unmistakable love bite right under her right breast. Minji mewls as you do so.

"The-they'll probably try to hide the mark, Master."

"Good." Pat her head. "No one can know what happened here."

"Of course, Master."

"You've been a good girl, Minji. Now go out there and become a bigger star than you could've ever dreamed of."

"Thank you, Master."

#

Months go by where Minji is mostly a concept for you, some asset to be discussed in meeting with your connections in HYBE. Rarely did she send a direct message to you—except for the video you asked for. It's nice that she didn't totally forget about you. After a busy day that calls for vacation and a nice, warm pussy on your cock, you turn on the TV to watch the most important year-end award show. 

A quick scroll down your contact list, you pick someone you know is nearby, obedient and definitely warm. The calls with Seolhyun are never longer than ten seconds, because she knows she's got to be there for her Daddy.

"You ever miss this?" you ask her when she sits down on your cock, panties still around her ankles, jacket still hanging from her shoulders.

"The awards? Sometimes, but—oh fuck!” Seolhyun is interrupted by you thrusting upwards while you care more for the TV than her. “Yes, more Daddy. They are nothing compared to your cock, your touch, your love!" 

Seolhyun tightens when she moans these words and you give her more of your touch, your thrusts, your cock. Soon she is bouncing in rhythm with it and begs for you to rub her clit. You won’t do so yet, would be boring if she’d get all the things that make her cum so easily.

"What do you think of her, Seolhyun?” You nod towards the screen as it captures Minji in all her beauty and on stage charisma. “Think she can capture the nation's heart like you once did?" 

"Minji, right? I think so."

That is the first time Minji has been in your sight since when her face was pressed to the floor. She looks like a proper star, close to being a super star (their next song will guarantee it) and her attitude reflects that. Don't touch me, I'm better than you, get out of my way, who even are you? - you imagine how she feels towards these other, lesser known people around her. 

Minji's dream came true and you were the pixy dust. Now you deem it the right time to get a hold of her. In between comebacks, right after all the award shows, she will have no excuses. Time to pay up, you text her, with a location, time and date while your finger disappears in Seolhyun’s asshole.

#

The day comes and you've checked into your favorite spa-hotel with excitement. The security and privacy here are top notch, or at least they are for you. See, it’s all about connections and here you have the best connections and can make sure that no rumors spread and that all information comes to you in no time. Minji will be here shortly and you've already painted the pictures of her naked body in your head, scenes where she undresses, spreads her legs and folds, begs for you to part her—

You hear the door open. From your seated position on the bed, you look expectantly at the entrance to the bedroom which Minji finds shortly after, her fluffy, thick jacket already falling from her shoulders.

"Hello, Master," she sultrily says with a smile. You reciprocate it.

"I see you've been doing great," you skip the greeting and walk over to her. A gentle push and the jacket fully falls off. Minji's outfit underneath is surprisingly thin for this season; there could be snowfall outside any day now and she runs around in a white crop and skinny denim.

"Those jeans look good on you." Stare down at her eyes while you check the quality of those mentioned jeans by fondling her butt, then her thighs and lastly her crotch. "Very expensive, HYBE is already paying you?"

"It's all the ads we do," Minji quickly responds, her breath halted while she does the unthinkable and moves your hand away from her crotch. "I... I never thought it would work so quickly."

"Yeah, it feels surreal, almost too quickly," you say with careful annoyance, unsure how to judge Minji's hand on your wrist holding you back from getting to feel more of her body.

"I couldn't have done it without you, Master, thank you very much~"

"You see, Minji..."

Her shoulders in your firm grasp, you move Minji to the next wall and position her in such a way that she is trapped and your knee is able to gradually push up against her covered pussy. The young girl tries to resist, she is suddenly flustered, oh how this should remind her of her success.

"... no one was ever this successful without a big commitment. Your commitments until now were nothing."

"Tha-that's why I'm here. Master, I'll suck your cock as much as you want, I'll let you deepthroat me hard, even for the entire night!"

You scoff and give Minji's cheek a quick, small slap. Your knee has now become the only pillar that keeps her upright. She has to balance and rub her slightly moistened folds on them so as to not to fall over.

"Sucking? Deep throating? Oh you're still so naive. No. You, Minji… belong to me. All of you, which means any hole. You are mine to use however I want."

"Wha—no!" She puts a hand on her cheek and looks at you with puppy eyes that beg so pathetically, like the thought that you took this deal seriously is a shocking reveal. You roll your eyes at her and find the top button of her jeans, but Minji starts to fight back with a loud, whiny voice.

"No, Master, you don't understand! Un-unlike all those other idols, I'm... I'm still a virgin. I don't want to lose it now, not here, not—"

"That is not up to you!"

Your shout halts time and space, only Minji's facial expression matters. She looks honest, absolutely in dread that it might happen at not the moment she wants it to. She cannot fathom giving you or anyone that control, she wants it special and precious and all those nonsense illusions. It's gut wrenchingly annoying but you will not go too far to break her now; you're too fond of her for that. 

Call it your weakness and curse you for that.

"We had a deal."

"I-I know."

"And you don't want to fulfill it?"

"I'm sorry, Ma-Master, please don't—"

"Then offer me something equally valuable." Minji looks at you in confusion. You drop her from the wall and hand her your phone. "Put in the number of someone whose virginity I can take. They have to be your sacrifice, your warrantor, and they have to agree to the same contract.

"You will then come with her to me and will watch how I take her virginity. You will watch every fucking pump I put into her pussy. She will testify, she will call me Master and she will love it. That's your only way, you better bring me someone."

Minji clutches the cell phone, her life-line, her lever to the trolley problem, except the train that was about to hit her can only be directed at another girl.

"And Minji,” you add in controlled yet uncontrollable rage. “I want her here, now. I want someone worthy of my time and touch. Or else. You will call them and then you will be on your knees sucking my cock while we wait."

Sweat comes pouring down Minji's forehead. You can hear the inner workings of her brain scramble, trying to find someone she can push in between you and her. There is no submission to you and there is no urge to flee and break your deal. 

Minji genuinely tries to sell you someone. Despicable, everything for success.

"D-do you know Hanni?" she suddenly stutters, quietly, ashamed but her fingers are already dialing up her friends number.

"I have never met her." You laugh in disbelief and turn your back to Minji. "You're really going to sell your bandmate? Are you not friends?"

"I—she's the only one I know who is a virgin but not... not... not unwilling."

You cock your eyebrow and listen to Minji's call which is surprisingly short. No mention of you or your arrangement, just the location and some details. Definitely no one is allowed to know of this and yes, Hanni has to be swift.

Minji ends the call and you immediately throw her to the ground, her head on the cushions of the nearby bed, your belt already loose, a hand on your pants.

"Pull them down and open your fucking mouth." Minji does so, the shock in her eyes is wonderful when you push past her lips and against the back of her throat in one go. Violent choking. "You are terrible, the worst friend, but at least you know how to make that mouth-pussy of yours work. Go on! Fucking use your tongue."

Minji starts to gag, trying to adjust to your cock, not realizing you weren't even fully hard yet. You never were with her. 

"Good, all the way. Use your tongue and saliva, let me fucking feel it."

You kick off your trousers and put more force in your hips so that your long shaft may fill Minji's deepest depths. It pushes out a lot of saliva, a waterfall that tumbles down her chin and covers her top. From your point of view you may not see it, but you know that Minji's aroused nipples poke through her bra and show that no matter how hard you fuck her face or belittle her, she's yours.

Minji's mind shall only be occupied with satisfying you, so even her still lacking tongue and lips do their best to suck you from tip to base—you make sure she never slacks by pistoning in and out of her.

After about 30 minutes of slowly thrusting in and out of here and replying to texts on your phone, you receive a message from the hotel staff that someone has arrived and come to see you. Minji tries to tap on your leg, indicating she wished to be freed of this position. You shake your head, no. 

"Oh, you don't want your bandmate to see you like this? That's not an option."

The sound of a door opening echoes through the hotel room and Minji panics, flailing wildly, her eyes tearing up and begging, begging so well—maybe she can finally grasp what she has gotten her friend into—

"Hello? Minji, are you here? Is everything okay?"

—but she still has so much to learn. Smack her cheek a final time, loud enough for Hanni to gasp at the front door. Before she can enter the bedroom, you pull out of Minji's mouth and push her towards the door. 

"Minji?" Hanni asks again and rushes towards her. Minji stops her, both of them shriek in shock. "Oh my Gosh, Minji, it is you! You scared me!"

"I-I'm sorry, I—"

"You look... messy. Is everything alright? I'm sorry if I took too long, you sounded so sad and terrified."

"Hanni, I," Minji stutters, hesitates, maybe even contemplates. It all makes her seem as if she has a heart and does not want to use Hanni to keep her virginity, but deep down everyone has to know that she is not a good person. No one would sell their friend for something like this. Minji is cold hearted when it comes to her career and things she believes she rightfully owns. "I have to ask something crazy of you."

"Okay? Look, you need to calm down first, maybe clean your face up and then we can talk ab—"

"Hanni, please." You hear some uncertain steps, as if someone is almost falling over and is ultimately pressed to a wall. You hear a wet sound, then a moan. Your cock is going crazy at all the possible things that might happen right around the corner and later in this bed. "Do you trust me?"

"Why did you kiss me, Minji?"

"Do you trust your leader?"

"Yes, of course. I'm a bit scared though, what have you gotten into?" Hanni's voice is full of concern and so is her face which you see for the first time when Minji guides her into the bedroom, arms around Hanni's tiny waist.

Hanni is in complete shock. 

"Minji, what is this? Who is this man?" You still have your pants down and cock out. 

Unfazed, you smile at the girl. "Minji, tell your friend what you did."

"Have you never wondered," Minji starts right away and tightens her hold on the younger band member. "Why so much changed before our debut, why the success was imminent, why it didn't stop? Have you never questioned all the blessings we received?"

"I-I... what was I supposed to think?" Hanni weakly laughs and tries to avoid the sight of your erection, but she can't because Minji is slowly inching her closer to it. "We are in a gr-great company, smart managers, pro-ducers... so who are you?"

"He is the reason, he is why we did not fail. Look, Hanni, I had to do it, okay?"

"Do what? Sell your body?" Hanni looks over her shoulder at the glassy-eyed leader of her group who gives her the tiniest nod. In those large, round orbs of the young Vietnamese woman you see the realization kick in bit by bit. At first she does not want to accept it, then she cannot believe it—but at last, she has to put it into words.

"You sold your body... and now he wants more."

"He wants something only you can give him," Minji whispers and pecks Hanni's cheek. You are astonished at how she manipulates her dongsaeng, Minji truly is ruthless; but Hanni's calmness deserves an award. She seems to surrender to this idea easily. There is no flight, there is barely any fight—she accepts her situation. 

"Will you give it to him? Your virginity?"

"Minji, I—"

"That's not the entire truth is it, Minji?" You smirk coldly. "You are a pretty thing, Hanni. She's right, I do want more. It's not something only you can give me, rather, it's something Minji refuses to give me. So instead, she offered you to me. Your precious group leader sold you out."

Put her tiny chin into your hand and for the first time, Hanni locks eyes with you. Minji's manipulation roots deeper, as there is not a hint of belief in the words you say. Rather, Hanni listens to the girl in her ear, at her ear, that licks her ear and tells her sweet lies:

"He is playing with you. He likes to play. But don't worry, he will help us.

"Don't you want to be a star, Hanni? The most successful foreign idol?" You hear Minji opening Hanni's belt as she melts in between your thumb and index finger. Her lips look so full and perfect. You'd bet your career that she is already a great sucker, maybe even better than Minji is at this point. "My sacrifice can't be for nothing, and yours won't be either."

Hanni's pants drop to the floor, while you work to get rid of her jacket. She is like a Barbie doll: pretty, clear skin, obedient, ready to be undressed and played with. No matter what you do or where you touch, she just obliges while her features become redder and hotter. Soon, she wears nothing but her undergarments.

"You have an amazing body," you compliment her. She just nods. You order Minji to put Hanni on your bed. For now, you'll not reveal the whole story, the truth: yes, you play games, but Minji clearly is lying to Hanni, trying to get away with more than questionable methods.

You respect Minji for that. Yes, in this dedication, the lies, you see devotion for you. She is willing to sacrifice herself and even her friend for your satisfaction. It wouldn't be long now until she would truly be turned into a loyal one for you. 

You have a suspicion and you would test it out here. 

"Hanni Pham, a bright star plucked out of Australia, a Viet idol with international appeal. And a lovely voice too, dare I say even prettier than Minji's..." 

You smirk, sensing the hurt from Minji without even looking.

"Will you tell me your name?" Hanni asks as you crawl on top of her. Minji placed her in a missionary position and still rubs her hand all over her exposed thighs so she would open her legs for you.

"You don't need my name, you just need to know what I can do and what I want. My deal with Minji benefits you a lot. Tell me, how does it feel to hold a music show trophy or one of those MAMA awards?"

"G-good, Sir, it's quite the," Hanni gasps when you push her legs open and place a finger on her white, innocent panties. You search for a bit until you find her clit and rub it from side to side. "Thrill."

"Drop the Sir, with me Hanni." Lean down to her pink lips, those round, moisturized and smooth lips. "Call me Daddy."

Minji's eyes widen and she almost lets out a whimper as if to object to you. A first encounter and you already let her call you, Daddy? Did you already like Hanni more than her when you haven’t even received pleasure yet? 

"Daddy?" Hanni responds unsure. 

"Yes, Hanni. You'll be a good girl for me won't you? That's all I want. Good, loyal girls. If you do that, you can have anything you desire."

"Daddy, I want to be successful and I want to give you what you need for that." She whimpers when you put more pressure on her nub. "B-but I'm a bit scared. I have never put something inside."

"I think your friend here can help you with that. After all, she got you into that situation." You glance at Minji and she gets what you mean, though the envy at Hanni's preferential treatment is clearly visible on her wrinkled forehead.

Minji leans down and gives Hanni a firm kiss while replacing your hand on the clit that has steadily hardened and is now aroused to the point Hanni's panties become stained with wet spots.

You glance at Minji in thanks. 

"Oh and Minji: no more kissing Hanni unless I command it. Her lips and your lips, belong to me only. Is that clear?" She can only meekly nod. "I hope you haven't been touching anyone else during our time together, Minji. That would really upset me." 

You already know the answer. Given how easily Minji’s and Hanni’s lips connected just this evening, you know it's something they are comfortable with. That would end now. 

Before Minji can answer you, you focus back on Hanni and the sticky sensation spreading over your fingers.

"Already wet for me? You're taking to my touch a lot better than your leader. Tell me, Hanni, you're not afraid of me, are you? Just ask me to touch you more. Tell me what you want."

Hanni is still hesitant, though there is shyness only in the way her mouth doesn't move and admit to her body's obvious reaction. She leaks onto your fingers, her chest heaves heavily, faster. You insert a finger, as well as part of those drenched panties inside her and finally, the right words slip out.

"Your fingers feel so good, fu-uck."

"That's what I wanted to hear." You smile and lean down to Hanni's face. Her lips instinctively pucker, her eyes fall shut, oh, how incredible: she is already yours. You let her wait there, finger twirling, pretending to push aside her panties and go for the real deal, but you're all teasing. Hanni mewls.

"Please, D-Daddy, kiss me."

"I will, when I put it in."

"W-will it hurt? Will you hurt me Daddy?"

"Only if you want me to, baby girl, but you want what Daddy wants, right? It might hurt to begin with, but it will feel so good for both of us." 

The chemistry between you two surprises Minji as she backs off, her hands away from the young women for the first time. Hanni nods. 

"Make me feel good, Daddy. I trust you."

Hook your fingers in Hanni's panties and at last, her soaked entrance is exposed, for your eyes only. You stroke your cock a couple of times, get the fresh girl juice all over it and gaze over the insanely well-trained body you're about to ravish.

Hanni's abdomen is to die for. The muscles on her midriff are absolutely stunning, the same goes for her navel perfectly resting in between them and then further up her subtle boobs, which Minji frees from the bra after your command. It all ends with Hanni’s chin, the sweat that runs down her throat, the faint sparkle of perfection—to sum it up, Hanni is incredibly beautiful.

You take hold of her hips and bask in the way your cock and her hole are magnetically attracted and connect. Hanni throws her head back at the impact and with every inch you stuff into her, her breathing becomes more erratic. Funnily enough, the same goes for Minji, who quietly scoots back and rests at the headboard of the bed.

As you slowly pump half of your cock in and out of the tight cavern, Minji goes for the same rhythm and rubs her clit, hand buried in her pants. She even goes and opens the first buttons. Is it really this girl that wants to keep control over her virginity? Let her have it for now, she'll be yours soon enough.

"Daddy, just focus on me!” Hanni whines out her first words after becoming a full blown woman. “You-you didn't need her, right?"

"Then make me forget, baby girl. Squeeze my cock with your pink little pussy." You go and have a taste of Hanni’s fat lips again, wishing they would suck your balls right now. Hanni could become a whore who would worship your crown jewels like no other. Better than Minji, whose eyes beg to be involved in the action. "Spread your legs more, I want to fuck you harder, Hanni.

"Oh and Minji: Go and suck my balls! That's what you're good for."

"O-okay, Master."

"Be grateful for it. But remember, no cumming."

"Thank you, Master."

"Daddy?” Hanni whimpers softly. “Why does she call you, Master? Is one better?" 

"Oh baby girl. Daddy is more affectionate. It's what you deserve. Minji still has to learn, her heart isn't in this yet."

Minji's heart might not be in the right place (rather the place you intend it to be) but her lips surely are. She gives your swinging balls a good suck and slows done the pace at which your fucking Hanni's pussy. 

It's amazing how well she adjusted to your size, even with your length and girth growing continuously at her fantastic heat and texture. Hanni handles you like a pro, and like one of your pro girls, she is already more drool than straight thoughts.

"Does it feel good, Daddy's hard cock in your virgin pussy? Get used to it because it's the only thing your hole will know. I will be the only one to use your holes, is that clear?"

"Oh Daddy, oh Daddy," Hanni moans and her body rocks violently on the bed sheets. "You-you are so much better."

"Better than what, baby girl?"

Hanni puts both her weak hands on the back of your head and pulls you down to where her lips meet your ears to tell you lewd things that Minji must not hear.

"Better than Minji's fingers."

You take this as a cue to grab Hanni's thighs and angle her in such a way that you can slam into her cunt harder. You let gravity do the work while the force of the entire bed frame shaking has Minji trembling in awe. She rubs her thighs together and tries to keep her hands busy with other spots of her heated body.

You can see that she wants to rub her clit while you make Hanni cum during her precious first time. She is probably projecting, wants you to go softly, then harder, but that is not your game.

"Hanni, no more of that, no more Minji's fingers. Only Daddy shall touch you from now on. You are mine and I'm going to go as hard as I want." You growl out slamming into her even more. "Take it all, Hanni, prove your fucking worth to me."

"Thank y-you, Daddy," Hanni begins her way down the rabbit hole of subjugation towards only you. The new life she will enter, all the changes, challenges and benefits will overwhelm her, but first you overwhelm her with your rod. "Thank you, for help-ing us, thank you for the wins, thank—ah, Daddy, I'm cumming! My pussy is cumming! Thank you for your cock, Daddy!"

You enter a nirvana drilling into Hanni's tight cunt. 

"Good girl, yes thank me, beg me, need me. This is the only cock you will ever have from now on and—" You kiss her with wanton lust, shoving your tongue in her mouth. The next whisper in Hanni's ear is out of Minji’s reach, though she might be too distracted from your delicious balls to get what you were saying either way. 

"Daddy! I understand, yes." 

Without losing focus of your hammering, you give a dismissive order to Minji, who is not worth your eyes on her.

"You can go Minji. I don't need you here. In fact, we can end our deal. You got what you needed right? Wins and fame. I won't meddle with your group in anyway. You are free to go."

"What?" Minji shrieks, completely offended that you could say such a thing.

"You heard me. Fuck. Off." Every word is empathized by a huge thrust that bulges Hanni's tummy. She stares at it in infinite bliss, then throws her head back as you knead her small tits and make the nipples hard like steel.

"B-but Master, you can't just do that."

"You did not keep your part of the bargain and still got what you wanted. Why the hell are you still here?"

"But I did!” Minji argues and climbs in front of you on the bed. “I brought you, Hanni, Master! I—" 

"Hanni, turn around and get in position, I want both of us to look at Minji. I'm going to fuck you from behind.

"What's wrong, Minji? You never truly wanted me in the first place. We both got what we needed from our deal. You don't need my help, your group will be successful. I made sure of it. I am releasing you from our contract with no punishments. Take the fucking deal, Minji."

Minji sits there, on the bed, not moving from her position. In utter shock as she watches Hanni smile and moan as you take her from behind, her pussy stretched again. God, how good she must feel, that face says it all. The pleasure, the desire, all the praises for your cock and it's only because she has her tongue sticking out like it's numb.

Suddenly, it all seems so clear to Minji, so easy to comprehend. She takes a deep breath and learns towards you, her upper body prompted up. All that just to throw her dignity away, to throw herself underneath you.

"Daddy, please! Give me your cock too! Take my virginity, don't push me away!"

You stop thrusting into Hanni right away and pull out for a moment to look at her. 

"Bullshit. I told you we were done here. You don't mean that. You just want my power and connections like everyone else."

"No, I mean it," Minji reassures, but words are nothing when it comes to her current state. She has to follow it up with more, significantly more. You doubt that she can deliver, but low and behold, she unbuttons her jeans and peels them off to show her long legs and the thoroughly drenched panties.

"Mi-Minji, what in the," Hanni moans and goes silent when you smack her ass. It's unbelievable that she is already so obedient and well-trained without training. The more she impresses you, the more Minji has to follow up. Soon she is on her back, jeans on the floor, shut legs turned towards you.

You put your hand on her thigh and though it's tough on her, Minji spreads her trembling legs wide. You poke her lips through her panties and when she squirms you give her a quick slap on her face. 

"Look at me, Minji," you order and she does. "Beg me, call me Master until I have given you, no, until I have taken what is rightfully mine."

"Please, Master," Minji cries out. "Please take my virginity, y-you own it."

"Louder," you growl and smack her covered pussy. Minji cries out, her pleas louder and louder with every new hit you give her cunt. Oh the way her eyes sparkle and body jerks is addicting, you don't realize that you have started to fuck back into Hanni who might have seen Minji naked before, who might have had sex with her—

—but this is new. Minji is a brainless mess, her pussy red from the beating, her face fully in tears. 

"Master, fuck my pussy, please! Fuck this pussy, my worthless pussy, it's yours! Make me full, make me full, I don't deserve it!"

"Now we are getting there," you viciously laugh and grab her chin to aggressively tonguefuck her wet, silly mouth. Minji is such a mess, dazed to the point Hanni's hands undressing her top after your order doesn't even faze her. Her top is gone, her bra as well. All that's left are her panties and Hanni has her fingers already hooked in them.

"Wait, Hanni, she should do it alone."

"Yes, Daddy."

"Ma-Master?"

"Lay down, Minji.

"Pull them to the side.

"Show me your pussy.

"Say it.”

Minji slowly and clumsily works on pulling and getting her wet panties off of her. There is an unfathomable amount of embarrassment in the way Minji’s eyes cannot hold your strong, charismatic gaze for long.

"Shall I feast on your pussy, Minji?" You ask with a smirk and hunger in your eyes.

They all turn eventually. It sometimes sounds so sudden and drastic, but it's all more or less the same. It builds up over time, like an orgasm. Some girls are quiet, until it bursts out of them in a heavy gush that has the entire floor wet. Some are loud the entire way through and what was once only lip service becomes reality, a reality they adore.

They all turn and they all get your cock. So does Minji, with her finger still spreading those sore, red folds and you ignoring her pleasure just to find yours in this wet, messy hole. Minji's cunt is remarkable, cute in the way it ripples and tightens and incredibly lewd in the way it sounds when you slam yourself in and out while holding onto her slim waist.

Now she is part of the loud girls, those idols that suddenly come to worship you more than the career that they fought so hard for. It will be later that they realize that this is the way they get approval from their company, their sponsors, their fans. You are success, the Queen maker for the outside world and a toy maker in your bedroom.

Minji is a great toy. She is euphoric now, the pain already gone. She makes sure to adjust to your will, lifts her hips off the ground when you need to slow down, shows you her tongue when you go for a kiss, and always says the right things. It was so hard for her not long ago, but now she is willing to do it despite Hanni laying next to her and admiring both of you fucking like animals. 

"Hanni," you groan and hammer your cock balls deep into Minji, who throws her head back in another (accidental) orgasm. "I know you want to fuck both of us so bad, but if you don't touch yourself until I'm finished with her, I'm gonna cum on your pretty face and tell you how good you are, okay?"

"O-okay, Daddy," Hanni mewls. Not that she would have touched herself, but you can't blame her for considering it. Caress her cheek softly for being so good, then fucking destroy Minji's cunt because she has been so bad.

"Master, more, pl-please, fuck!" Minji howls with pleasure. 

"You're going to be my good girl from now on, right?" 

"Yes, Master, use me however you want. I-I just want to live to fulfill your desires. Master!" 

You stare deeply at her and pause right before the next spike rattles Minji’s brain. 

"Really? With every atom in your body. Tell me again, Minji."

"Every-thing." Minji can barely talk but does so for you, despite you, despite the large dick that is reshaping her insides. "You own everything, Master. You c-can use me daily, everywhere, any-time. I-I mean it!"

You lean down to her and give her a simple, hard thrust to make sure she gets your point.

"You're a good girl?"

"Yes, Master."

"Then call me Daddy," you whisper into her ear and put a hand on her throat, ready to press down on it.

"Thank you, Daddy," Minji rasps before you choke her hard and fuck her absolutely senseless. Orgasm after orgasm shoots through her frame, her existence becomes numb, she is a fleshlight now. The vibrations of her climax become your stimulation and at the last possible second, you pull out of that twitching hole. 

"Get on your knees Hanni," you order in time. Hanni kneels before you as you somehow slide off the bed, legs a bit shaky and with her head thrown back because you could not resist pulling her raven hair, you cum all over her features. "God, you are such a pretty girl. I can't believe such beauty loves cum on her face."

"It's Daddy's cum," Hanni moans and sucks on your tip to get more on her lips. The rest has mostly covered her nose, her cheeks, her forehead. "Of course I like it!"

"That is right, baby girl, well said," you compliment her and pat her head while she instinctively cleans your cock with superb care. "Did you ever service someone else?"

"No?" Hanni asks and collects your cream off of her stupidly gorgeous face.

"You, I swear to God, you can't be that good right from the start."

Hanni pouts her lips and puts them under your cock. She truly is one in a million, the rare idol who barely hesitates and immediately knows how to do the right things. In many regards, she reminds you of Kazuha, who told you it was her kinks that made her adapt so easily. Maybe this is the case for Hanni as well. Should that make her devotion less impressive?

"Daddy?" Hanni cutely asks and waits.

"Open your mouth, I need to fuck it now."

[lamoobsessions]

Ideal Date

Celebrity AU: Hazel Callahan x (fem)Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: no use of y/n, very breif mentions of sex, unwanted touch (just wrist grabbing), Hazel is kind of a loser.

A/N: Very loosely inspired by the song 'boyfrined,' by Dove Cameron. I say loosely because the song's essence isn't really there, you know what I mean? It's more of a idiots in love vibe, than anything. Anyway, this is my first Hazel fic, so I hoped I captured her character well 🙏

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The idea of a gala is a lot more exciting than the execution, or at least, that’s what Hazel was beginning to think. There isn’t much to do, aside form eat food, down a few drinks, and participate in some auction; which, come to think of it, she has no idea what this gala is fundraising. Whatever organziation sponsored the event, Hazel didn’t know it. She probably should, but she simply didn’t check the invite. The moment she heard you’d be here, there was no second thought about it, she was going. And at first she was excited. 

It’s an indoor event, held in some big extravagant ballroom with shiny marble floors and dazzling chandeliers. The food is terrific, the drinks are delicious, and the DJ must have rent to pay because they were playing all the right songs. It was all going so well.

 But then you showed up with him, James Watsky, your annoyingly handsom co-star in some new upcoming action movie -She didn’t know the details of it, once there were rumors of a scandalous sex scene in the film, she never botherd looking into it too much. All she knew was that you looked great in the trailers. Your hair pinned up high, your shorts cut low, your tank top dirty with grime, and your plush lips bloodied and busted, how could someone pull off a look like that so well? As many other celebrities have experienced, there was a rumor you sold your soul for the fame, and as much as Hazel believed those rumors were only made to take away the credit from a woman’s success, she was beginning to think maybe you did. But not for the fame, but for beauty. In her eyes, it was unreal, a celestial-like beauty. 

Not only were you beautiful, but you were a joy to be around. 

The first time Hazel had the privilege of working with you was when she helped co-write for an episode of a sitcom series you had a part in. It was during the first uptick of your career, so the producers finally let you direct an episode yourself. Having no experience in screenwriting, you were sent to Hazel for help. Together, the two of you made one of the most beloved episodes of the whole series. 

The second time Hazel had the privilege of working with you was just after the series finale, and the contract tying you down to the series was terminated. To her delight, you called her up that same day and asked if she wanted to produce a movie with you -On the one condition that she starred in it with you. She agreed, though hesitantly at first. Hazel didn’t know if she’d like the spotlight. Sitting behind the scenes, re-writing dialogue, and tweaking a few storylines was more her pace. At least, that’s what she thought at first, til you came along and showed her her full potential. You were one of the few people in Hazel’s life to actually believe in her work. 

And that movie changed everything. 

She started booking more writing gigs, more acting gigs, more interviews. At first it was overwhelming, but it grew on her, and with that grew your friendship. The public loved it, the press loved it, casting crews loved it. It was a win-win all around, but Hazel wanted more. And just as she began to realize that, this whole action movie came up and took away most of your time. 

The two of you have rarely talked since, only on rare occasions like these -immense, pretentious, and excessive events that drained her social battery the second she walked through the door. 

But you were here, and it’s been three years since you’ve started that movie (production was a bitch). Now, it felt as if you were out of reach, like she was back at square one, watching the celebrity she admired most as a mere fan.

Hazel didn’t think it would hurt so much seeing you here. She missed you more than she thought she did. You in your long, satin dress that hugged your waist so well. You wearing that annoyingly infectious smile that never seemed to die down. You with your graciously pinned up hair that she was sure would be the softest thing she could ever touch.  

And still, even with your classic beauty and genial personality, you showed up with him. The douches of all douches. It hurt her to see you with him. It ached her to see you sat with your arm linked with his, as you sipped your cocktail with a smile.

Actually, it was beginning to annoy her. Why him? You could do so much better than him. Why did it have to him, of all people? What did he offer? What did he have that she didn’t? She could be a better gentleman than him, Hazel was sure of that. 

No, she wasn’t sad anymore, she was angry. Whether it be at herself for not making a move sooner, or at him from stealing you from her, or at you for being with someone like him. It didn’t matter who exactly she was mad at, all that mattered was that she was pissed. Even more pissed when she noticed your date grabbing your wrist. 

You and him were at one of the formal tables, your chairs faceing the dance floor, as he desperately tried to pull you off your seat, presumably for a dance. You seemed steadfast in your decision to stay put. But still, he didn’t relent, he tugged and pulled, as his face grew warmer with frustration. You were just as stubborn, shaking your head and trying to keep your cool with an unsteadily calm expression. Finally, the man gave in, throwing his hands up in frustration, he stormed off. 

At first, Hazel thought he was running off to get a drink, but no, he was leaving. Full-on exiting the gala. In a matter of seconds he brushed past Hazel’s shoulder, and walked out the door. All of it because you wouldn’t dance with him.

Averting her attention back to you, you seemed almost unfazed. Your eyes glued to your phone as you pressed rapidly against the screen. Okay, maybe you weren’t unfazed, you looked just as pissed as Hazel felt moments ago. 

She wasn’t sure what to do. Should she approach you? Is it even her place to try to comfort you? The two of you weren’t even that kind of close anymore, would you find it too up-front? 

You were upset, that much was obvious, and Hazel wanted to fix that, fix your friendship. It didn’t matter if it would escalates into more, she just wanted her best friend back. 

It took two shots of tequila to do it, but she finally stepped in your direction and made her way toward your table. You were still typing away at your phone, too much in a world of your own to notice Hazel right in front of you. 

“Rough night?” she asked, immdeianlty pulling in your attention.

“Oh my god, Hazel,” your expression switched, a smile now beaming from your lips. It made her want to melt on the spot. “It’s so good to see you. I was hoping you’d be here.”

“Yeah?”

You hum, nodding happily, as you pat the seat next to you, to which Hazel obliged. “I’m sorry we haven’t talked much. I’ve been meaning to reach out, but you know… work stuff.”

“It’s okay. I mean, I haven’t been reaching out much either, so…”

“Well, let’s not let it happen again, yeah? You’re like… one of the very few people in this industry I actually like.”

Hazel bites back a smile, hoping to prevent it from growing any bigger. It was becoming more and more evident as each moment passed, none of the feelings she felt for you before have diminished. Even after all this time, everything still felt so fresh. She still loved you.

She just had no idea where she wanted this to go. It’s been three years since your friendship changed, yet she still felt the same way. She still felt those same flutters in her stomach. 

“I’m… really glad you’re here.” Your words sound much more soft, much more fervent than your previously chipper tone. “Honeslty, you’re the only reason I came.”

Hazel felt stunned for a moment. She didn’t want to read too much into your implications, it’s been a while since you two have gotten to talk one-on-one. But to hear your soft, sincere tone again was a lost treasure Hazel hadn’t known she lost. 

“I thought your date would be the reason you came.” she teases.

You huff a laugh, leaning into your seat. “No, he’s- uh… definitely not my ideal date.”

“Who’s your ideal date then?” Hazel didn’t know what she wanted in an answer. She didn’t know what to expect either. 

You turn to her with a shy grin plastered on your lips, one that Hazel couldn’t quite read. “It’s a secret.” 

“Really?”

“Mhm,” you hum smugly. 

“If I guess right, will you tell me?”

“You’re not going to guess.”

“What if I do?”

“You’re not going to,”

“But what if?”

You narrow your eyes, brushing them over her expression, as if trying to determine something. You were so close, if Hazel just leaned in just a little, she could close the space between you two. It was tempting, very tempting. 

“Fine,” You resort, leaning back into your chair. “If you guess right, I’ll tell you.”

Hazel’s smile grows steadily, though she couldn’t be more nervous. Truthfully, she didn’t want to know your ideal date, because she knew it wouldn’t be her. But if this little game you two were playing would re-kindle your lost friendship, she’d do it. She’d do it all night if that’s what it took. 

Her eyes dart around the room, glancing over all the potential competitors. With her distraction, she hadn’t noticed your eyes glued to her, watching as she inspects the party.  

“Christopher,” She guesses.

“Which one? There are like fifty of them here.”

“Christopher Chapesky,”

“Nope,”

“Christopher Paulmer,”

“Nope,” 

“Christopher Liam.”

“Nope.”

“Is it any of the Chris's?”

“That’s cheating, you’ll elimanate half the party suggesting that name.”

“So, it isn’t any of them?”

You roll your eyes playfully, “No, you’re way off base.”

“So, you’re not into Chris’s. Got it.”

“I’m just not into egomaniacs.”

Hazel falls into the seat with a flail of her arms. “What? But that’s like, the whole party.”

You shrug, “There are a few gems.”

Finally, Hazel looks to you. Her deadpan expression immediately flips upon finding your gaze already on her. That same gentle, hazy expression, staring back at her, you felt so easy to subdue to. If she stared at you too long, she’d surely get lost. Time would become irrelevant, the world would stop spinning, nothing around her would be able to pull her back out. It’s a dangerous game she has herself in. Afraid to get too drawn in, she seeks refuge looking back to the crowd. 

“Do I at least know them?” She questions. 

A silence fills your end, there is no response.

Hazel, calls your name, to find you staring down at your hands, twisting and turning your rings nervously. Til, you snap out of your daze, meeting her questioning stare. “Sorry?”

“Do I know them?”

“Oh… yeah.” you nod. “You know them, pretty well actually.”

Hazel didn’t know many people at this gala. The people she did know, she only knew in passing. So, who else was here that she knew ‘pretty well’? 

“Okay…” Hazel sighs, wanting to give up. The game was turning into torment, no person she named would make her feel better. She wanted it to be her. 

“I told you, you’re not going to guess.”

“Yeah,” Hazel huffs, crossing her arms. “I’m beginning to think you’re right.”

“Always am,” You joke, nudging her side. 

She puts her tongue to her cheek, shaking her head disapprovingly. 

She didn’t know, but that look on her drove you crazy. Hazel never caught your longing glances, you were strategic with them -well, ususally. There were rare occasion where you were caught, but she never questioned them. 

Though, there’s something about her tonight. Her pristine fitting suit, her perfectly shaped hair, her sly, chasing tone. Mentally, you’ve mapped all her features. You admired them all the way from the moles on the back of her neck, to the small curvature in her nose. She was impossible not to stare at.

Your phone vibrated on the table, pulling you out of your prolonged glance. It was your manager. You exhale your disappointment. Nodding to Hazel to excuse you, as you accept the call. 

“Hey,” You greet with an even tone. 

Hazel saw the contact name, but she didn’t need to know it was your manager to sense your immediate discomfort. 

“He was being an ass and I wouldn’t take it, so he left.” You remark, as your leg began to tap up and down nervously by your chair. “I wasn’t going to tolerate it. He can’t just… I know, I’m sorry… well he shouldn’t have… no, I know… I know…”

She tried to listen to what your manager could be saying, but over all the music and the chattering commotion, it was near impossible. Whatever it was, she knew it had something to do with that James Watsky guy you were seeing. Why your manager cared, she didn’t know. 

“Look, i’m still at the gala, so I can’t really talk about it right now… well, he’s the one that left, I didn’t tell him to leave…I couldn’t have made him stay if I tried. It would’ve only made things worse…fine, that’s fine. Just…call me later, then… Okay, bye.”

You end the call, leaning your head back over the seat with a groan. 

“Everything okay?” Hazel asked. 

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You apologizde, grabbing your drink off the table to take a few swigs. “I hired a new manager recently, and he’s… kind of the worst honestly.”

“Why don’t you drop him?”

“I can’t. Signed a contract, I’m stuck with him til the end of the year.” 

“Damn, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” You say, a smile retuning to your lips. “He’ll probably drop me anyways, which isn’t a bad thing, cause that’s the only way I’ll probably get out this mess soon.”

Hazel could didn’t want to pry, knowing you probably didn’t want to talk about it. Not here, not now. You were at a gala after all, weren’t these things supposed to be fun? 

An idea popped into her head, one that could get your manager to drop you in an instant. She told herself it was solely for you, that there were no selfish intentions behind it. Though, she wasn’t fooling herself one bit. 

“Do you wanna dance?”

“What?” you asked with a smile. You heard her perfectly clear, but, admittedly, you wanted to hear her say it again. 

“Do you wanna dance?”

Suppressing an embarrassingly wide grin, you bit down your lips and nod. 

Hazel stands and holds out a hand, her sliver rings gleaming under the chandelier lights. In that moment, you really do wonder if looks can kill. 

Her hand is cold to the touch, as she guides you through the main floor. In your eyes, she couldn’t seem less nonchalant about it, but in reality, Hazel’s heart pounded in her ears. She never danced with anyone before, not in the way everyone else was dancing with their partners. The last time she checked the dance floor, the moves were loose, uncoordinated. No one danced with any sort of plan, they just moved. But now, step after step, they swayed with elegance in their every move. Slow, suave music carrying their motions. 

Hazel placed her hands on your waist, simultaneously steadying her tremble. Your hands met her shoulders, and finally, you could see through her calm facade.  

“You never slow dance before?” You ask with a subtle simper.

“No,” she laughs breathily. 

“that’s okay, I’ll lead.” You gently place your hand on hers, lifting it from your waist and interlocking your fingers. Hazel watches you intently, her eyes trailing from your hands, to your waist, to your lips, til finally, she meets your careful gaze. 

You begin to sway your hips, hoping to initiate some movement. Though, Hazel was enamored, nervous and stiff beyond repair. Her feet felt rooted to the floor, she hesitated before even thinking to move. Yet, with the gentle music and your attentive touch, she began to settle her stiff form, and follow your lead. With each slow step, left to right, front to back, you fall into form. 

Hazel and you have always walked a thin line between intimacy and amity. At times, it felt restraining, like you were stepping on egg shells around each other. But now, it felt like balancing on a tight rope, teetering with hitched breathes, as you sway side to side. 

There were moments you wanted to push her away, as if simply being around her felt like too much. But, in that same sense, you wanted to pull her closer. You wanted to pull her close and never let go. 

And Hazel couldn’t keep her eyes off you. You were intoxicating, especially in that dress. It made her want to inhale your very essence, like it was her oxygen. Bewitched, enthralled, fascinated, charmed, you name it. Hazel was all of the above. 

Moments pass, and not a single word has been uttered. There was a silent understanding that if anything was spoken, it would break the threshold. If this was intimate or platonic, that very concept would be revealed the moment either of you decided to speak. So, neither of you did. Instead, the both of you reveled in this small bubble of time, wishing it would never burst. 

Slowly, as the dance progressed, the two of you drifted closer. You found Hazel’s chest pressed to yours, and your chin tucked under her shoulder. In the back of your mind, you can see the nosey rumors, the catchy headlines, the snarky articles. Surely, your manager would drop you after this. But, in a freeing sort of way, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. None of that mattered, not when Hazel was finally back in your life. 

The past three years have been hell, though nothing in those recent years could top being with her. To be in her arms again felt liberating. Even now, you felt the same giddiness you felt the day you met her. It’s like you jumped right back to where you were before with eachother. Nothing had changed, not even the intense surge of adrenaline you got around her. That never left. 

“You know it was only a PR thing, right?” you say, feeling the sudden urge to inform her.

Hazel pulls back, her eyes looking down at you. “What?”

“James, he wasn’t a real date.”

“Oh,” the weight that had been sitting on Hazel’s shoulders since she saw you with him,  finally lifted.”Right, yeah, I knew that.”

She did not in fact know that.  

“I would never go out with someone like him,” you admit, hopelessly attempting to drop all the hints you could. “I mean, I would prefer not going out with men in the first place, so…”

Very briefly, her eys dart to your lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You breath. Whenever she said stuff like that it made you feel like a giddy schoolgirl with a stupid crush. It was much more than that of course, but she made your stomach flip all the same. 

“So, your ideal date is a woman?”

“Precisely.”

“How long were you going to let me list off half the men in this room?” she laughs. 

“Well, I was pretty amused by it, so… forever maybe?”

She playfully rolls her eyes, “You’re the worst.”

“Aw, you love me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” She dismisses. 

You don’t know when it happened, but Hazel had taken the lead, and suddenly, you were following her steps on the dance floor. 

“You really want to know who my Ideal date is?”

“I don’t know,” Hazel sighs, her demeanor suddenly switching. The idea of you wanting someone else devastated her. She felt nervous all over again. “Do I?”

“I think you do,” your voice is barely over a whisper, but Hazel still heard your words clearly, and that lifted her confidence just a little. “She’s sweet…charming…funny,” You list each factor, hoping your voice didn’t tremble as much as your hands did. “She has short, brown hair, soft blue eyes, a nice smile. She’s an okay dancer, I guess. But you know, she didn’t have the best teacher…”

The rest of the words get caught in the back of your throat, as Hazel’s hand untangles from yours, and meets your jaw instead. She had heard enough by then, and with her enraptured stare boring into yours, the gap between you two closed and your lips locked. A fit of sparks burst in your chest, as Hazel’s one hand on your waist tightens its grip, further deepening the kiss. It’s slow, soft, and gentle with each tug of her lips. 

You’re positive no durg or substance could ever achieve a high equivalent this one. Her mere touch made you feel impossibly lighter. 

“You’re my ideal date too, by the way.” She utters against your lips. 

“Good,” A light laughter escapes you, before you pulled her in once more. 

Her lips curved upward, as both her hands travel from your neck to you hair, tangling her fingers in the loose strands. She wasn’t sure where her body started and where yours ended. It felt as if you had consumed her whole, that the two of you are now of one being. She had been waiting for this moment for so long, never had she thought you would feel so good. 

She couldn’t believe she had at one point regretted coming here. She almost went home. But, god was she glad she didn’t, cause you were here, in her arms, kissing her. Hazel had changed her mind, maybe these gala things weren’t so bad. 

[moments-on-film]

Moments on Film: The Bear Season 3

Now that I have had a few days to process and fully…..digest S3, I am back with my most visceral thoughts.

I must say, distance did not do anything to ameliorate how I felt about this season. There were some beautiful moments, I really enjoyed episode 1, for example, and I truly appreciated the opportunity to learn more about how Sydney comports herself as a leader, Marcus‘s beautifully inspired and fresh creativity as a chef, Tina’s journey, Natalie’s inner struggles, and more backstory on chef Luca.

What I am having so much trouble with this season, is Carmy. I knew this would happen. I knew S3 would be the belly of the beast, as I predicted 🔗 here , but it was still so hard to take in.

Those of you that have read my work know how much empathy I have felt for Carmy. I have rooted for him. I see how much help he desperately needs and I am always hoping he will find a way to course correct when he gets off track. Carmy ditching Sydney in S2 and lashing out at Richie in the finale felt like a punch to my gut. I was so hoping those two relationships would be nurtured this season but in fact they got worse.

I want to be clear, I have had so much compassion and empathy for Carmy and his emotional problems, due to the cycles of abuse he has had to endure. What I absolutely cannot excuse or reconcile this season is how his behavior and actions are hurting, stifling, and traumatizing those around him.

Another thing I really want to uplift is that yes, this is a show that emphasizes found family. But at the end of the day, this is a business, he is in a leadership position, and everyone who works there is an at-will-employee. In my opinion, Carmy has completely failed as a leader, on all fronts. He has never exhibited leadership skills, with consistency. And as supportive member of the “family”, real or otherwise, he is nowhere to be found. Carmy has actually created a hostile work environment that is legally actionable and litigious with his mood swings, verbal and physical abuse and erratic behavior.

It is a stone cold fact.

I was rooting so hard for Sydney and staff to walk out the door this season. That’s how bad his behavior is. Sydney deserves better, plain and simple. Everyone working at The Bear does. Another point I want to uplift is that while Christopher Storer created the show, it is his sister, Courtney, “Coco” Storer who is the chef on whom he based much of the plot. Courtney has also moved from Culinary Producer in seasons past of The Bear to Co-Executive Producer and even “Story By” credit on this season of the show.

There is something Courtney said a few years ago on a podcast that has stayed in the back of my mind because I always wondered if it would be used as a plot point for Sydney. She shared a story of a restaurant she worked at in Los Angeles. She was promoted to CDC, loved her team and really enjoyed working there. However, it was not all perfect. She was constantly burnt out and at a physical and emotional deficit due to the stress. She suffered panic attacks. She also shared that she was not officially a partner with a stake in the restaurant, and she felt like she needed to have her own back because at the end of the day, no one else did. Although it was a difficult life decision—-she quit.

Forget Michelin stars. If Carmy cannot create and maintain an environment people want to work in, with him, he will end up completely alone. It also may already be too late.

I understand this season is apparently in two parts, I understand that everything happens for a reason. What I can’t understand is how I am meant to root for a character that has contributed to Sydney having panic attacks, has hit Richie, has yelled at Marcus during what must be the worst time in his life and who was about to lose it on Tina if Sydney hadn’t stepped in, saved her, and saved him from himself. Completely unacceptable behavior.

Carmy needs professional help. I have said this many, many times before and I am going to say it again. Carmy. Needs. Professional. Help. He cannot continue to let his triggers and emotions be his master. He is in a leadership position and people’s jobs are depending on him. He cannot offer any more hollow apologies, he has to back them up with consistent action, or I will continue rooting for the staff to leave or for him to step down.

If he doesn’t make the time, energy, and effort to stop the madness, slow down, take a beat, remember all of the gentle and beautiful mentorship he actually did receive through his rise as a chef, lead with his heart, build trust and repair his relationships, especially with Sydney, with Richie, with his sister and her new baby, he will lose it all, because he will have lost the one thing that truly matters, the people he is supposed to care about and the people who care about him.

Does he have it in him to turn this all around? At this point I am not sure. And if he doesn’t, I believe what “grows together”, and they really did, all grow—-will in fact, go together.

©️moments-on-film 2024

[isagrimorie]

[initial reactions] Agatha All Along 1x04 - If I Can’t Reach You / Let My Song Teach You

Tumblr ate my last long rambling post, let’s do this again.

Series Spoilers referenced

There’s so many crunchy things in this episode. And how, in the end, the whole episode is permeated with love.

Lorna Wu’s love for her daughter, repurposing the spell for the Road to protect Alice. She made it so that at any point in time someone is singing her song to protect Alice.

First things that piqued my interest.

I’m currently out so I can’t pull up the captions: Did Agatha say, “I didn’t know you had it in you.” or “I knew you didn’t have it in you.”

Agatha gave Sharon a minute’s mourning and done. Agatha’s been around death so much she’s learned to compartmentalize it.

And then Lorna dying “on the road”, on tour is clever word play and shows how word of mouth stories can be distorted.

I feel like this is part of the theme being weaved. Agatha is a terrible person but most of the hate for her within the community I wager are rumors and some encouraged by her.

Jac Schaeffer has said Agatha lies. Their main thrust as writers is then to find Agatha’s truth.

Agatha wears a mask every time, she presents as someone more social and talkative than she is.

Agatha is, because of what happened to her, a solitary person. And when she’s really angry she fumes and doesn’t talk at all. The only one she almost is truthful with is with Rio, and not even always with her.

So I have a theory Lilia’s random outbursts is actually from Sharon Davis' ghost reaching out from the future to the present. Sharon might be dead but she’s not out. Also the cadence sounds like Sharon more than Lilia.

Jen is also so delightful in that she is also kind of the worst too, not as much as Agatha but right up there. Also I love her instinct for self-preservation.

I think we’re still going to get more about Jen in the coming episodes.

And Alice! Oh Alice, I love that she finally got to face the demon curse that’s haunted her family, and when she can see it, she knew she could kill it. I love the concept that her mother enveloped her in the best protection spell she could think of.

That was so smart.

And there is Rio summoned by the spell, the spell tagging Rio in immediately because she was nearby as a Green witch.

Agatha specifically asked the green witch it takes should not be annoying but the first thing Rio did was annoy the hell out of her. Agatha’s storming off was magnificent and I want her coat.

It’s so fun that even when Agatha revealed Rio’s intentions to the coven, Rio wasn’t annoyed, she was more amused than angry. Rio knows Agatha and her tricks.

Agatha caring for Teen was so great to see, seeing Teen hurt shook Agatha, and then Agatha’s “Don’t” to Rio was so loaded and begging.

Even though I didn’t know the series spoilers, I have actually suspected what Rio was before. But this would have confirmed it for me.

And it’s clear now Agatha’s hoping/suspecting Teen was her son, Nicholas.

It’s also clear to me now that my theory about how the rift formed seems to be true. Rio had to ferry Nicholas away from Agatha because it was her job. And Agatha never forgave Rio for it.

Agatha was clearly willing to forgive Rio because Rio spared Teen but Rio has revealed that Agatha is her scar and that also meant… whatever reconciliation that was going to happen Rio didn’t want it out of a lie.

So despite how much Rio wanted to kiss and hold Agatha for longer she told Agatha the truth. Teen isn’t hers. (Teen isn’t Nicholas.)

Rio can’t bear to reconcile based on a lie.

And that stopped Agatha cold, because there is still that chasm between them, her son. And what Rio had to do.

Talk about star crossed lovers.

I just want to give credit again to Jac Schaeffer and Mary Livanos (showrunner and executive producer) for making this happen. Because Disney wouldn’t have let this happen on their own, but Wandavision must have earned Schaeffer a big cachet in Disney to let this happen.

Especially in the era of Bob Iger part 2– under his watch Willow was taken off Disney+.

Eternals is the one with the clearest, textual queer characters in MCU. Runaways, is unfortunately, not included in the MCU because of Kevin Feige and Ike Perlmutter’s feud.

—-

The sigil talk btw is interesting so my theory: It was Wanda, somehow, protecting Teen.

My second theory? It was Agatha All Along! How? I bet it’s timey wimey.

[noctua-an-owl]

To straighten some things up, cause I really don't want to engage with that discussion, but I see a lot of bad takes and misinformations:

Neil Gaiman created the two main characters of 'Dead Boy Detectives' when he wrote 'The Sandman' comic books. They appeared for the first time in #25 of the series, specifically in the fourth chapter of 'Season of Mists' in 1991. They didn't have their name yet, cause it's a story about how they met. Since then other creators wrote and drew comics about Charles and Edwin with occasional input from Gaiman - for example he named them 'Dead Boy Detectives'. Creators who worked on Edwin and Charles' subsequent stories had different levels of connection to the original creator.

As for the show itself: Gaiman was one of the show's executive producers and he wrote a few scenes: both scenes with the Endless Siblings and the ending scene in the Agency's office. He was also heavily praised and credited by the showrunner, Steve Yockey. Many press articles connected Gaiman to the show, actors were asked about him too and he joined one collective interview.

So. There is no way to deny Neil Gaiman's involvement in the show. He is also an original creator of the characters. But. The show is a work born from the love of many, many people and the original concept is so far away from the ultimate onscreen outcome, that it feels like a separate piece of media. I don't think that comparisons to JK Rowling are adequate. She is the one and only creator while Dead Boy Detectives have many parents who equally contributed to their story over the years. Plus Steve Yockey and Beth Schwartz turned it into something completely new, something theirs.

And to be clear: No one is defending Gaiman here. Actually I hate that we are talking about him again instead of listening to his victims and no giving him attention at all. But I am convinced that in this case, Gaiman's downfall played some role in the decision process that led to cancellation of the show. Netflix probably doesn't want to be connected with this whatsoever, so they are prematurely wrapping up 'The Sandman' and cutting ties with anything else from this author. And it makes me angry, because 'Dead Boy Detectives' deserves better as well-executed diverse and queer show, that brought many people sense of belonging and also pure entertaining joy.

[clarasghosts]

I haven't seen the wwdits finale yet, and based on what I've read about it (critical praise, fan complaints, and some plot points), I don't know that I ever will. one thing (but not the only) that annoys me is this insistence that "nothing ever changes", like that's somehow been the theme of the show all along. but the truth is that didn't become the theme until season four. things very much did change in seasons one through three. guillermo was always a dynamic character from the start of the series, and the discovery of his van helsing side affected members of the household and created tension, ultimately leading to growth and a changing role for him in season three (which seemed to be largely retconned in later seasons). nandor was weary of his long life, which propelled a story arc leading to him leaving the household to travel. after guillermo's arc led to them becoming the new vampiric council, nadja took to power and ambition, and looked forward to what she might be able to do as she rose in status. laszlo's discovery of colin's impending death changed how he behaved toward colin, leading him to do the unthinkable - lie to and separate from nadja in order to take care of a newly birthed baby colin.

these were massive fucking changes in the lives of the characters. season three ended on the note that nothing would be the same. nandor believed he'd been abandoned, nadja was heading to england where she would be in a greater position of power, not knowing her husband had left her at the last moment and trapped guillermo into accompanying her.

and then the start of season four deliberately ignored all of these conflicts and stakes. nadja wasn't actually mad at laszlo. nandor wasn't mad at guillermo or laszlo. baby colin was still there, but by the end of the season, that wouldn't matter either. nadja's vampire council storyline was thrown away with a quick line and brief flashback.

I get that they probably didn't have the budget for something huge abroad, but some close-up exterior shots in some of the older streets on the east coast could pass for some english town, and the rest could be interior shots. the characters could even return to new york without immediately erasing all the conflicts set up at the end of season three. the only real answer for what we ultimately got was bad writing.

I often see people complain that the show went downhill after jemaine left, and I think that's always been more in terms of humor than plot because the season three plot built directly from the season two plot (in all honesty, the humor has been fine for me personally). to me, the writing started to decline after stefani left, and the writers that remained all got hung up on their own egos.

sometimes I wonder what happened behind the scenes. why did stefani leave? she's listed as the co-writer for the season four premiere (which is the start of what I'm complaining about here), but was already no longer an executive producer (no longer had creative control) and then disappears from the writing credits altogether. and, whether related to her or not, I've wondered what led to the writers deciding that, not only would nothing really change in the household going forward, but that the audience should feel foolish for believing things would change. after the disappointment of the writers just throwing away the season three finale, the audience was willing (largely) to go with whatever happened next, embracing marwa's character. only for that to be thrown in our faces by the end of the season. then came the mystery behind guillermo's failed transformation and laszlo's experiments, only for the latter to be dropped as if it never happened.

I don't understand the critical praise for this all being so clever, when it's really just the end product of writers who can write funny scenes and good individual episodes, but largely don't seem able to write actual arcs or plots. it's not just threads never getting resolved, it's also threads never connecting. it's not clever to consistently have no larger vision of what you're writing or not be able to maintain a long and cohesive plot.

[emeryhiro]

My takeaways from todays NYCC Daryl Dixon panel

Firstly, and most importantly, Melissa McBride as series regular and executive producer in S2 🥹 about time! Also I'm really happy she's in the title now even if 'The Book of Carol' would not have been my first choice.

Secondly, I really appreciated that when Greg and Norman referred to certain scenes from S1 as "romantic", Norman made sure to clarify, in no uncertain terms, that it's not in a "love" way, and more in a French/European ambiance way. Good to see that he's not shipbaiting, and also giving the credit to Melissa as well when Zabel was praising him for certain choices, like pushing for filming to be on location in France, instead of in a studio somewhere else.

"My good friend, the talented and beautiful, Melissa McBride"🥹❤️

!Spoiler warning for below, talking about a scene from the finale!

I have not seen the scene and will not/can not describe it but I want to point out a comment that Norman made about an acting choice he made in one of the scenes that's apparently in 1x6.

So he sets up the scene as Daryl is fighting to get on a boat (presumably back to America) and said that he "tried to play Daryl with a smile on his face as he was about to get on" (paraphrasing); he knows Daryl's heart is across the ocean and no matter how much he cares for the people he has found in France, deep down he's called back to his family, specially to Judith and Carol and the promise he made to her.

And I can't wait to see the scene that the mod mentioned as Carol taking out a guy on a bike, France doesn't know what's about to hit them when she arrives ❤️

~~~~~~~~~

Also, just a thought that made me laugh but imagine Carol just got to France and Daryl's on the boat back to America... actually that wouldn't be funny at all 🫠

[jessthetea]

So, in all the stories Renell posted on her IG (and Ice Studios on their official account), Jess isn’t tagged or mentioned anywhere. No pictures of her, no sign of her at the party, and yet we get this one random story from Rams-Kay thanking Jess for planning the event and executing the deal “like always” because, of course, she’s a Virgo.

What’s going on with that? Jess supposedly planned this whole launch party, is the co-founder of the business, but didn’t attend the event. She wasn’t mentioned in any of Renell’s stories or the brand’s official stories, except by one person. And this same account also thanked Jess for “helping” with that sad, mostly-empty booth at ComplexCon—the one she could’ve easily attended in California but instead flew to England to chase after Jamie. Remember that?

So, what “work” did Jess actually do here? She didn’t set up the venue, didn’t decorate, didn’t take photos, didn’t design or edit the magazine, and didn’t even show up. If she planned the event and secured some brand deal, what was involved? A few phone calls? A couple of emails? And for that, she gets credit and a paycheck? Sure, it’s a “service” she’s providing, but that’s pretty much personal assistant-level stuff. Calling for sponsorships, booking a DJ, renting out a hall—anyone could do that, especially when dropping Renell’s name to make it easier. Then, maybe she hired a few guys to put up posters, and that’s about it.

It’s almost laughable that people see this as “Girlboss” behavior or think Jess is some empowered woman when she’s barely doing anything. She didn’t even bother to show up to the event she supposedly planned. Once again, Jess Moloney is doing the least amount of work possible while still managing to take credit and get paid for it. It’s the laziest display of “professionalism” I’ve ever seen.

And let’s not even get into the fact that, despite what Renell claims, this magazine is 100% for the male gaze. It’s soft-core porn, it’s objectification, it’s reinforcing traditional beauty standards—let’s call it what it is. I have no issue with adult women choosing to do adult work, but the problem is that Renell’s trying to pass this off as something more than that, when it’s clearly not.

Jess shouldn’t be proud of this, and neither should Renell. This is adult entertainment, plain and simple, and if that’s what they want to produce, fine. But they need to stop pretending it’s something it isn’t. Just when you think Jess Moloney couldn’t sink any lower, she’s now producing soft-core porn. I wish I could say I’m surprised, but honestly, I’m not.

[zapsoda]

Wanna share your 13 reasons why opinions?

YES thank you for asking. i would have done so unprompted but i had a class.

so the controversy was that people were saying its portrayal of suicide "glamorized" the act and would thus make "children" want to kill themselves, and that that meant it shouldnt have aired. i have a lot of thoughts on this so ill go bit by bit.

in response to the criticism, the creators added a little pre-show bit with the actors clarifying that suicide is bad and that 13 reasons why is a fictional show and not like. a how to guide. personally i would have found that irritating and condescending if i was a tweenager tuning into the tv show but whatever. thats whatever in and of itself i dont care.

but specifically theres one part where one of the actors says that if you are struggling with self harm or suicidal thoughts "this show might not be for you." and thats fucking insane right? thats insane? a tv show talking about issues YOU struggle with. YOUR ISSUES. and youre being told not to watch it? that its not actually For You???? thats fucking ridiculous. i understand they intended it as a trigger warning but WOW was that probably the worst possible way to do it. and whats funny is in an interview, executive producer selena gomez says that she Intended the show to help people! who struggle with self harm and suicidal thoughts!!! but dont watch it i guess.

anyways i havent watched the show itself so thats actually the extent of my opinions about it. the rest are about the discussion and controversy.

something i noticed was that. every single motherfucker i saw talking about the show. good or bad. was an adult who made no claims of having experienced mental health issues. and yet they had such strong opinions about the effect the show would have on those groups. as an adult who has tried to kill himself. who was a child pretty recently. i find much of what they are saying to be a load of fucking useless horseshit. i cant speak for every teenager or mentally ill person i can only speak for myself. but i think i have more of an authority than random mother of a teenager #4.

and these people dont even make an ATTEMPT to empathize with the groups they are trying to "protect." every single one of them talks about teenagers as if they are a faceless mass of impressionable statistics rather than people.

and they keep using the word "children" and referring to "children." this show is not for 6 year olds. this show is for teenagers explicitly. it is about teenagers it is making an attempt at representing what teenagers struggle with. and uhhh i think it goes without saying teenagers are a LOT smarter and more developed than people give them credit for. yes they are crazy and stupid and insufferable but they are rapidly becoming adults every day and i think they should be treated with the appropriate amount of respect! what do they think about this, as the target audience? when 13 reasons why first came out, i met a girl who, like me, struggled with depression and self harm. and she watched it and enjoyed it, which surprised me given my familiarity with the drama surrounding it. and i think about that a lot, yknow? what about her?

there is this prevailing idea that, regardless of intent, any depiction of suicide will immediately result in someone killing themselves in imitation. thus, they say, suicide should never be depicted in media and nobody will kill themselves ever again. zero nuance. that doesnt seem right to me. am i crazy? that sounds like bullshit. thats not how anything works.

obviously , i can only speak for myself as a previously suicidal person (albeit thats more than 99% of these bozos can speak for any suicidal person), but in my experience, if i want to kill myself, then i want to kill myself. regardless of whats on tv. regardless of whether its depicted or "glamorized." i didnt want to kill myself because i saw that it was something i could do on tv, something "cool." i wanted to kill myself because i was fucking miserable constantly and i didnt want to be miserable anymore. i find it wring and demeaning to reduce that pain to "oh he watched the wrong tv shows."

there was also the claim that otherwise mentally well people would see it and suddenly become suicidal. i dont even care about getting into this because its basically an unprovable claim. how do you know they were otherwise mentally well, how do you know the show directly caused their suicidality? claims which lack nuance have no place in a discussion like this one and should be Destroyed.

anyways i hate how taboo suicide is. i hate it i hate that you cant say it that you cant talk about it. i find that so fucking unhelpful for destigmatizing and generally improving public mental health .

its even more infuriating seeing mental health professionals PERPETUATING the taboo, saying that suicide should never be portrayed at all. i think thats evil and i hate it. like my personal disdain for censorship notwithstanding i think that is harmful actually. how are you supposed to deal with feeling suicidal if you cant even TALK about it!?

i think the crux of the issue is just that these people are uncomfortable with the topic of suicide and they think that that must mean it is a bad topic which should be sanitized until it is tolerable to them and acknowledged as little as possible. i hate that. sometimes people die. you can talk about that just fine. sometimes people do it to themselves. sometimes they want to. its a fact of life and it would be a fact regardless of whats on tv, regardless of what people think about it, and regardless of what you think about it. people should be able to talk about facts of life. i think its disturbing to cut off bits of reality that you or random mother #4 find uncomfortable and make them off limits or pretend they dont exist.

i dont think the quality of the depiction, or whether or not its "glamorized" matters when determining whether or not a depiction of suicide should be allowed to exist, because that is inherently subjective and every individual will come away with a different interpretation. its not like people are being held at gunpoint forced to watch it!! i think people can generally make an informed personal decision about the media they engage with.

[chansaw]

ok. here it is. the longpost i've been too lazy to actually make until just now.

so, here's what happened. the google algorithm sometimes pushes links to articles it thinks you'll like on the mobile homepage. unfortunately, google knew enough about me to put this hellish article onto my screen:

read that headline. then read it again. really, really stare at it. stare into the abyss. eventually, it will stare back. it'll whisper in your ear: "the heathers reboot was good, actually."

i read the article, incredulous. but, to my surprise... the author had somewhat of a point? it's been five years since paramount unceremoniously aired the show in october of 2018 after its premiere was delayed at least twice due to mass shootings. then after another mass shooting occurred before the final two episodes of the ten-episode long season were supposed to air, paramount hastily aired a heavily edited ninth episode and scrapped the tenth entirely. as far as i can tell, the show is not available to be streamed freely on any streaming site (not even paramount's own paramount+), though you can rent or buy it from amazon prime. maybe the author was right. maybe it was time for a rewatch and reconsideration. i wouldn't even have to spend any money; i archived all ten episodes of the show onto one of my external hard drives back in 2018, so i plugged 'er in, drank a bit of fireball, and clicked play.

after episode five, i gave up. i couldn't stand it any longer. i slammed my laptop shut and went to bed.

needless to say, i have thoughts.

right off the bat, here's the biggest thing. i wish to god that someone other than the miserable pile of sweaty skin that calls himself jason micallef had been in charge of this show. it might not have saved it from its fate, but maybe it would have been at least watchable? a modicum more entertaining? when the show was originally announced, leslye headland (who would later go on to create russian doll) was attached as showrunner. later, it was announced that micallef would be showrunner instead, although headland directed the pilot and executive produced the series.

in my honest opinion, if leslye headland had remained in creative control, this would have been a much different - and, in my opinion, better - show.

i can't help but wonder how heathers (2018) would have turned out if she had stayed at the helm. would it have marred her career so badly that netflix would have never agreed to produce russian doll? would she still be notable enough to be given charge of the newest disney plus star wars show? perhaps her decision was for the best. perhaps she knew there was no saving this project, try as she might.

and people tried!!!! during my rewatch, i was enamored by the production design and slick lighting and cinematography. some of the costume design hasn't aged well, but when it hits, it hits. i have to give credit where it's due: it is a beautifully shot and designed piece of television.

if only its actors had given half as much of a shit.

grace victoria cox (veronica) and james scully (j.d.) both attempt to replicate their predecessors' cool sense of disillusion and disenchantment in their roles, but both just come off as totally and completely bored in every scene. j.d. is supposed to be darkly charismatic, but scully has the charm of a plank of rotting wood. they lack the spark of chemistry to get the audience to feel invested in their relationship. without convincing leads to anchor it, the show has to depend upon its titular heathers.

i am, of course, in no way biased at all, in any shape or form. just saying. but one thing the article gets right is that melanie field’s performance as one miss heather chandler shines. field is fucking brilliant and her screen presence is formidable. she makes the most of every line she's given, and is at turns, ruthless, hilarious, and even (gasp) sympathetic. i am so glad she’s been booked left and right in tv shows (such as amazon's a league of their own, a spin-off with much more respect for its source material) that showcase her immense talent since whatever the fuck happened here. but i'm not biased!!!

juan barquin, the author of this article argues that viewers and critics alike both misunderstood heathers (2018). micallef's brilliant satirical messaging flew right over our heads. it had a message, goddamnit, and the misinformed masses closed their eyes and ears because they didn't want to hear it. it almost reminds me of the starships troopers discourse that is currently enveloping the app formerly known as twitter. starship troopers was nearly universally panned upon its release but is now recognized as a prescient satirical romp that targets jingoism, nationalism, and the culture of forever wars. we didn't get it back in 1997, but we do now. unfortunately, this is not the case with paramount's heathers.

the main cause of all the brouhaha around heathers (2018)'s release, barquin says, is because of its "shameless criticism of American culture, the prioritization of guns as a faulty means of defense, and the educational system’s blatant ignorance around the actual needs of students." which, sort of? it is true that a rash of killings (such as parkland and the pittsburgh synagogue shootings) spurred paramount's decision to nuke the show from existence. the show does, in fact, directly address and involve such matters. unlike the movie, the show concludes with westerburg high blown to pieces and its students all dancing in a prom in heaven. which.... yeah. you can see why that wouldn't have played out well.

(it's worth noting that daniel waters, the screenwriter behind the REAL heathers, originally planned for the movie to end this way as well. but the suits at new world studios said that audiences wouldn't like it. reluctantly, he complied.)

and i do have to admit, there are moments of brilliance. westerburg's school shooting drills involve the drama teacher storming through the halls shooting students with silly string. if you "die", you get to go to "heaven" (a brightly lit room stocked with snacks). the survivors are ushered into the dark, cramped gymnasium and complain about how all the cool kids are in heaven now. teachers' desks are stocked with firearms, because as we all know, of course, the only thing that can stop a bad guy with a gun is a teacher with a gun. it's so absurd that it works.

but for the most part, the writing is sorely lacking. it seems like the folks in the writers' room spent hours sitting around the table trying to one-up each other with quippable quips, meme-able dialogue, and banter that matched the panache and dry wit of waters' screenplay. but what we got instead was "HAHHAHAHAH, QUEEF!" it's bad. it's so, so bad. the author's claim that “[t]he show rather impressively matches the film’s comic sensibilities with consistently funny episodes that are as pleasantly cruel as they are scathingly satirical” falls flat because, for the most part, the shows satire isn’t at all scathing or sharp.

there were so many moments of the show where i felt my whole body just light up with rage. it made me just so ANGRY because i could see shells and fragments of a better version of this show peeking through. instead, what we got is a show that made alt-right chuds say this:

i think the most offensive part of the whole article, though, is barquin's attempt to liken the show to bottoms. if anything, i'd argue that bottoms works better as a spiritual successor to heathers than the rebooted heathers itself! bottoms succeeds in every way that heathers (2018) fails: punchy and quotable dialogue, characters who manage to be both archetypal and multidimensional, all set in an exaggerated and heightened sense of reality that still feels lived in and real. most importantly, all of bottoms’ actors are firing on all cylinders; in heathers (2018), most of the leads are just there to get paid. i could go on, but that's a whole other post.

frankly, it's kind of incredible that paramount launched this show as the flagship of their new tv network alongside yellowstone (which is in its final season now with spinoffs on the way). they were really, really banking on this thing to have legs. but we live in a blessed timeline where this show is condemned to an eternity of oblivion. it's a bit of a pity, though, because... the writers envisioned some sort of american horror story-esque anthology setup and teased a “french revolution” second season at the end of the last episode. i kind of want to know where they were planning to go with that.

it could've been so very.

[davekat-sucks]

Hey thanks for your perspective! I like seeing what other people think of a piece of media I engage with, and I can take in what another person’s perspective can be compared to mine. I always thought it was tough to keep up with HS^2, and before Yiffy it was boring. I read the prologue for HS^2 and it was nice, but ultimately pointless.

You make a good point about Jane, and I gotta describe the surreal decision for how they builded up to Jane’s villain arc.

So there is a series of snapchats from 11/11/2016 to 12/31/16 (I think) showing conversations between Jane and Roxy (calliope is there) discussing the celebration of the return of the gods on Earth C by blowing up the moon. Jane has her transportalizer hijacked by the felt, run by Jack Noir and Jane’s account now gets post updates from felt members. Roxy and Calliope attempt to get help but Jane successfully defends herself against the felt and enslaves Jack Noir with a tiaratop, and then puts Clover in charge of her snapchat account. She escapes before the moon explodes.

So the buildup to Jane being racist was her being kidnapped and then giving her social media to a leprechaun, who worked for the main bad guy of Homestuck who is last seen on his knees with the evil red Betty Crocker thing around his neck.

Yeah I can see why Jane became evil, she was the CEO of a corporation, and running corporations just make you literally irredeemably cruel to everyone. (If you can’t tell I’m being sarcastic)

To give credit to epilogues/postcanon apologists when they argue that the story’s character’s are not acting out of character, just rather changed over time or were always like this, but just didn’t have the unrestricted worship and authority Earth C gave them, they are in a sense, correct.

What postcanon apologists forget to argue is if the execution of this change in character works within the media it is produced under, and I gotta say, an obscure set of snapchat posts released after the credits that were only dug up by fans following the Homestuck Pinterest account which preluded a character’s villain arc by having her kidnapped and unkidnap herself was a poorly executed start to a vaillain arc, maybe they should have done more with the whole Jack possessed by the tiaratop thing and Jane running the most powerful corporation on Earth C, but I don’t write Homestuck.

The tiaratop thing only gets elaborated on in Homestuck^2 later on when in panels you can see tiaratops on Crockercorp soldiers in the April 2020 updates, nearly a whole year after the epilogues dropped. Before that I’d just assumed all the people decided in unity to be racist because Jane said so and most people can’t think for themselves actually, and just believe what a nice looking authority figure says. That last part might be true considering how well James Roach has gotten along with the Homestuck fandom.

So what is the moral of the story to all this? Well being a CEO of a corporation makes you a fascist because being in a position of power makes you think you’re better than everyone else and that they should be sorted into categories you consider lesser and better by your standards.

Sure there is actual human history to the rise of fascism and why some aristocrats and corporate businessmen supported the cause but I ain’t reading all that, my hypothesis is simple to understand and affirms all the premonitions I have about the world around me, so it must be correct!

So basically the Homestuck snapchats predicted Elon Musk buying Twitter and retweeting conspiracy theorist tweets because Elon Musk is the CEO of 5 companies now.

And look out for Disney CEO Bob Iger, he’s making bad and boring Disney movies with minority lead actors ON PURPOSE to radicalize fans of old, better cinematic franchises to bring about the 4th reich!!!

Funny enough, the aim for Jane Crocker being the villain in Homestuck 2 was also to make her an allegory for DONALD TRUMP. Even the bonus story for these random nothingbuger OCs made by WhatPumpkin, were suppose to be people getting BERNIE SANDERS to become President. They even advertise support for Bernie Sanders on the official HOMESTUCK TWITTER ACCOUNT. Of course, Bernie Sanders dropped out of presidential election. HS Twitter had to delete it and WhatPumpkin had to cancel that side story. Needless to say, the force of politics in Homestuck 2 was that bad.

[cocamalfeta]

Tae supports Min Heejin

He supports her. Because of this pic he uploaded a few days after NewJeans Emergency live, and a bit before Jk posted his support message. This was a personal pic of a private moment she uploaded on her insta, a moment that wasn't official promo or anything. It was a short clip of Tae crossing that street while doing a silly dance, and you could heard her laughing while filming him.

Also, Tae with Min Hee Jin last summer.

I was doing some research and came across several things that still were new for me as I just started following his solo career at that time so I missed some things, like this pic that Tae uploaded last summer in Majorca while he was getting ready to film "Love Me Again" and "For Us". I thought I'll post it here since you haven't likely seen this pic before and you won't see it either, since everyone is trying that bad habit of erasing uncomfortable truths from their minds.

I thought I'd highlight this other thing too, from this report speculating Hybe would be punishing Tae's achievements due to him working with MHJ for his first solo album.

When it was announced that BTS’s V would be releasing a solo album, many were surprised to learn Min Hee Jin would work with the idol. Min Hee Jin was said to have led the project, working on elements such as the music, choreography and promotion style.

For those who keep insisting that MHj just gave some "visual" directions or any of this restricted description. Actually, she had a "producer" role for "Layover", as you can check from his MVs credits, whose director was also a close collaborator of hers too. BigHit was included in the credits as well.

For comparison, she had the role of "executive producer" for NewJeans, and funnily enough BSH also had an "executive producer" role for LeSserafim too (I don't know if he still kept that role).

But how surprising thing was to learn that also for "Layover" choreography, which was based around freestyle dancing, she had a hand in there too. NewJeans also had freestyle influences on their "How Sweet" choreo, i.e. they had freedom to improvise hand or arms movements in certain moments of their choreo. This is better explained in this video by a Korean dancer, you can just check around min. 12 or in particular 21:42.

I could post more things that revealed her influence over his work but as usual I lost the original sources, but for instance, the choice to showcase his natural deep voice and making multiple MVs for each of his songs, were typical traits of her work that were predicted, as soon as his solo collab was anounced, by fans already familiar with her work. Maybe I'll update this later.

[dustedmagazine]

Various Artists — Creiriau Y Delyn Rawn / Relics of the Horsehair Harp (Amgen)

Imagining new music is nothing new. Individually or collectively, spontaneously or through painstaking craft, research, and development, legions of music-makers have tried to come up with something sufficiently novel out of sounds and (sometimes) words that it hooks listeners’ attention. You can be sure that someone’s at it right now. But you probably won’t lose the farm if you bet it on the notion that the sequential imagining that went into the conception and execution of Creiriau Y Delyn Rawn is an unprecedented process that has yielded a remarkable outcome.

The Welsh language title translates into English as Relics Of The Horsehair Harp. It was produced by harpist Rhodri Davies as a companion to Telyn Rawn, a solo album that he released on his Amgen label. Telyn Rawn is named after the instrument that it introduced, a horsehair harp that Davies commissioned to be made by a couple harp makers and a leatherworker. Harps have a particular cultural resonance in Wales, since despite the instrument’s popularity, the art of making them nearly died out before making a comeback as part of a larger resurgence of Welsh culture. The original telyn rawn was made from wood and equine byproducts. After the sturdier Italian triple harp made it to the British Isles in the 1600s, it replaced the telyn rawn so thoroughly that for a couple centuries the triple harp was actually known as the Welsh harp (it was replaced by the pedal harp in the 20th century) while its predecessor was practically forgotten. When Davies, whose wide-ranging music encompasses free improvisation, modern composition, Konono-inspired junkyard noise, and rock and roll, got curious about those early harps, no one knew how to make one. The instrument on Telyn Rawn was designed using descriptions in early Welsh poetry and a couple pages addressing harp-tuning practices in a 17th century manuscript by Robert ap Huw.

When Davies finally set about playing the thing, he did not revive antique repertoire; he improvised short pieces equally informed both by his research and his own practice of playing freely, alone and with musicians like John Butcher, Andrew Leslie Hooker and the trio IST. Intricately plucked or vigorously bowed, some of the album’s eighteen tracks hinted at folkloric models, while others undid dense knots of sound that burst with harmonics and radiated overtones. Telyn Rawn came out during that first COVID summer, which was bad for many things, but was not so bad for spending some of that time that one wasn’t gigging cooking up new ideas. After its release, Davies reached out to friends and associates with this request: “I asked each contributor to imagine that the musical material improvised in 2020 was an ancient musical form that had fully existed in the medieval period, and that each of their responses were to have happened centuries after the imagined formation of the Telyn Rawn pieces.”

Such a brief can be taken in many directions, depending on the respondent’s experiences, equipment, and willingness to dig a new network out of someone else’s wormhole. Sixteen participants gave a response to one or two specific tracks from Telyn Rawn. Laura Cannell’s  opening piece, “The Tattered Skies Above,”  wastes little effort on interpreting Davies’ “Penriwh.” Instead, she constructs a fanfare from overdubbed recorders whose jolting sonorities and processional air establishes a through line linking a span of fantasized centuries. Next up, Orphy Robinson makes like a free-bopping jazz man. On “Nude, Lewd, Rude, Mood Food” he transfers bits of Davies’ intricate “Gorchan Sali” to a salaciously bulbous-sounding marimba, accelerates the tempo and lets it rip. Jem Finer plays “Y Geseg Fedi” pretty faithfully, simply transposing bowed harp to hurdy-gurdy; guitarist C. Joynes is similarly respectful to “”Dygan tro’r Ebill.” Credited as playing computer and mouse, “C. Spencer Yeh” visits a cut-and-splice surgical strike upon Davies’ recording of “Afon “Dewi Fawr;” Pat Thomas might do something similar on the turbulent electronic eruption, “Maddad.”

Not only does Davies have a strong musical personality that transcends the particular harp he plays and the century his head’s in; he has picked his emissaries wisely. Despite the disparity of instrumentation and approach exhibited by the sixteen contributing musicians, Creiriau Y Delyn Rawn feels pretty cohesive as it carves out an imaginary timeline of musical evolution.

Bill Meyer

[shinelikethunder]

lol the bitter samgirl part of the knife circle is already scenting blood in the notes on that post..... the fun part of being a part-time sera gamble apologist who also frequently finds her writing enraging is that in principle i want to join in the fun of dunking on my extremely problematic fave, but in practice half the time people are doing so for reasons that are totally baffling to me.

and the thing is, for many reasons completely independent of her doing anyone's fave dirty, season 7 DOES suck balls. but it does so in ways that are so wildly different from the entire rest of her list of writing credits that i don't actually... think it says much about her as a writer? she crashed and burned HARD as an executive producer, with unknown amounts of fuckery going on behind the scenes, and it came out in the writing in the form of "sometimes i think you need someone to stop you" big-picture decisions and a bunch of structural messiness. but the absolute worst parts of s7 are management problems, and the most excruciating ones come from bringing back buckleming and not keeping andrew dabb on a short enough leash. i don't think she should've been showrunner for the seasons i'm saying she could've fixed. i DO think putting her at the top of the pecking order of writers and story editors would've produced incredible (and, yes, frequently enraging) results.

or as @chiisana-sukima so succinctly put it: they pushed her off the glass cliff so hard the whole show broke when she landed.

(in the interests of sharing and caring re: being fascinated by gamble's contributions and also wanting to throttle her for a lot of them...... here's my dirty little secret that i can't say in front of people talking earnestly about the feeeeeels s2 gave them: when the single crystal tear of manpain dropped at the end of 2x17 'heart,' i burst the fuck out laughing. i couldn't help it. they were trying SO HARD to tug at our heartstrings over Men's Feelings About [uncharitable episode analysis redacted] that the whole thing faceplanted into bathos. girl i want to be a fly on the wall of whatever was going on in your head when you wrote this.)

(......also none of my fandom bafflement applies to dunking on her for the abject racism. in fact i don't think it's possible to dunk on her ENOUGH for the abject racism. sterling k brown should've gotten hazard pay for agreeing to come back multiple times as gordon.)

[trainsinanime]

It seems like this isn't as widely known as it should be, so just to clarify: The title "Executive Producer" on a movie or TV show means nothing. Or at least, it doesn't have to mean anything.

Some of the credits are closely protected; for example, the Writer's Guild makes sure that "Written by", "Story by" and "Screenplay by" are precisely defined. There are special rules about the meaning of "and" versus the meaning of "&" in there, and there is a whole arbitration process designed to make sure that the right people get listed there.

No such thing for producers. Studios can just slap whoever on there and call them a producer or executive producer, and they do, all the time. It can be given as a favour, or part of some deal, to make someone feel more important or whatever.

A famous example is that every episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer lists Fran Rubel Kuzui and Kaz Kuzui as executive producers. Neither of them were involved with the making of the show at all. Fran was the director of the 1992 Buffy the Vampire Slayer movie that nobody ever saw, from which the TV show is a spin-off. She and her husband Kaz owned the rights, and so the deal was they get listed as executive producers on the show, even though they did not actually do anything with it.

TV shows will also give executive producer credits to important writers as standard practice, in particular the show runner, partially to validate how involved they are in all parts, not just writing, but also because it makes them seem more important.

Of course someone with an "executive producer" can be heavily involved as well, like a show runner. If it's an actor, maybe the studio gives them the opportunity to give notes on the script or similar. But the term "executive producer" alone doesn't say whether they were involved or not.

The actual producers hate this, by the way. That's why on some movies (in particular newer ones), you will see a producer with the letters "PGA" behind them. That means the Producers Guild of America has determined this person has done the majority of actual producing on the movie. These folks are typically not listed as high up in the pecking order, though.

So when the news say that Auli'i Cravalho and Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson (the voices of Moana and Maui) are executive producers on the live-action Moana remake, that means nothing. Maybe they'll be in the movie, maybe they'll not be involved at all.

Personally, I'm waiting for the live-action Cars remake.