#Hostage Pageant

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Part 2

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: Surprise Sunday update! I was able to put the finishing touches on Part 2 a bit early. 😉

Song used in this chapter is “If I Didn’t Care” by The Ink Spots (but more like Amy Adams' version). Song inspiration for this chapter (and the song title) is “All My Livin Time” by Radio Company (Jensen’s band with Steve Carlson).

Word Count: 4,500 Warnings: 18+ only! Willful seduction, kidnapping, SB being himself lol.

Part 2: You Move Me, Baby

This next mission was going to be a bit more…hands on. 

It was a gentlemen’s club, styled like a 1920s speakeasy, of all things. If nothing else, Soldier Boy was predictable.

Through a crack in the dressing room door, you didn’t see any gentlemen here. You saw a bunch of skeevy bastards. 

For the record, you didn’t like this plan. But as Butcher once again pointed out, Soldier Boy’s less likely to fuckin’ recognize you than any of us. 

And you certainly couldn’t (wouldn’t) imagine Butcher in rhinestone nipple tassels. 

Right now, you were waiting to be assigned an outfit. Hopefully, you could just blend into the background of whatever performance act the stage manager wanted to slip you into. And you really hoped you wouldn’t have to striptease on stage.

In the meantime, you sat on a stool in a black lace bra, matching panties, and sheer pantyhose, while Annie was helping you with your stage makeup. Years as a pageant child had taught her well. You felt like Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality, fending off getting hairspray up her ass. 

Sure, you had gone undercover several times, but this was slightly out of your wheelhouse. You bit your lip, forgetting that you were already wearing several coats of scarlet red lipstick. 

Annie slapped your hand. “Stop it. You’re smudging my paint job.”

You had Butcher and M.M. to thank for arranging this little detail. 

May they both rot in hell, you silently simmered. 

“Oh, stop pouting. You look great,” Annie said. You caught the little smirk she was trying to taper down. 

Then the manager’s head popped into the dressing room. When he verified that all the young women had at least their underwear on, he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

“All right, listen up,” he said in Spanish. You understood just enough to follow what he was saying. “Angelica got food poisoning.”

You grimaced. Angelica was the main act. She had a whole burlesque-style routine with the rest of the women—for which you were meant to step in for one of the girls in the ensemble. Hopefully in the back. 

“Daniela, you’re filling in,” said the manager, pointing to a busty brunette. 

“What about the second act?” asked another girl. If you remembered right, her name was Raquel. “Dani can’t sing like Angelica to save her fucking life.”

“Excuse me, bitch. I sing better than you,” Daniela snapped back.

The manager rolled his eyes and clapped his hands harshly to end the bickering. 

“Okay. Which one of you bitches can actually sing?” he asked, first in Spanish, then in English, you noticed as he glanced at you.

Annie looked at you with raised brows. You glared back at her. 

Damn you for telling her about your childhood church choir days. You were sure your religious mother never thought you’d be using those talents like this.  

“No,” you said firmly. Annie just smiled and waved the manager over.

That was how the two of them ended up all but pushing you on stage—after Annie had wrangled you into a shimmering red gown over your underwear and pantyhose. It was overlayed with delicate beading in intricate patterns. And it was easily the most beautiful thing you’d ever had on your body.

However, you did take issue with how long the slit was, running all the way up to your hip bone.

Not really ‘20s style, now is it? you thought sourly.

Annie just slapped your ass and guided you forward.

You shot back one last look at her—one that swore you’d have your revenge.

Then the curtain slid open. 

Fuck me, you thought nervously. This was really happening!

The lights blinded you for a moment, and you blinked the glare out of your eyes. They soon adjusted as you forced yourself to move towards the microphone at the right-hand side of the stage, close to the live band. The pianist shot you a smile and a wink as he started to play in dulcet tones.

Steeling yourself, you grabbed the microphone with a slight tremor in your hands. You stared out into the crowd as the rest of the band joined in, slow and jazzy. 

You’d informed the manager that you really only knew one song by heart.

“Eh, that is too slow,” he’d replied to you in English.

“It’s that, or Dani belts out in her best soprano,” you informed him. He sighed and waved a resigned hand. 

“Get her the red one,” he told Raquel. She then handed you the dress on a hanger. 

Now, you held the microphone between both hands and started the song your grandmother used to sing to you when you were a kid.

“If I didn’t care, more than words can say,” you began. “If I didn’t care, would I feel this way?”

You took in an unsteady breath. With each note, your voice was getting stronger, more confident. 

“If this isn’t love, then why do I thrill? And what makes my head go round and round, while my heart…stands…still…”

As you eased into the rest of the song, you remembered your mission. 

You scanned the dark room, rows of men of all ages, women serving drinks and food and their own bodies. You weren’t finding your target.

But this intel was good. The source was the girl you’d replaced in the show, and M.M. had already worked out her safe exit out of the city for a while. 

There. You finally saw it. 

Or rather, you saw him.

Towards the back, Soldier Boy sat at a large exclusive booth. He had a long joint propped between his fingers, and a working woman from the club already propositioning to service him. Her manicured hand eased down his chest. 

He also seemed to have hired men sitting at a table nearby. 

Your voice nearly hitched at the sight of him, but you forced yourself to take a calming breath during a musical interlude. 

You knew Annie and the rest of the team were here in the club somewhere, to back you up. But Soldier Boy knew Butcher and his team were onto him. the bastard would recognize them. You were the distraction here.

And if he went away with that escort, he could easily disappear upstairs and hop out the window again, gone like a coil of weed smoke.

Somehow, you needed to keep his ass in his seat.

So your voice came back in strong for the final verse.

“If I didn’t care, would it be the same? Would my every prayer begin and end…with just your name?” 

You watched Soldier Boy’s gaze drift toward the stage. Your lips curved as you held his eyes for a moment…but then, you coyly slid your gaze away. 

Okay, what’s going to grab his attention…

You shifted on the stage, letting the curve of your hip and ass sway to one side. You raised your other foot on the tips of your toes. And the slit running up your leg slid open, revealing your tall silver heels and a smooth leg, all the way up to the inside of your thigh.  

Unfortunately, you hadn’t been able to fit your gun holster this time.

“And would I be sure that this is love beyond compare…” Your voice rang out on the high note; at that climactic point, the music reached a crescendo.

You turned your head and looked directly into Soldier Boy’s eyes, and his mouth slid into a grin. 

He was watching you. 

Good.

“Would all this be true,” you sang, “if I didn’t care for you…”

As the final notes reverberated from the piano, applause and male whoops erupted from the crowd. 

You slowly released the microphone, breaking off eye contact with your target. 

Then you turned around, trying to hide the nervous tremor in your legs. You pressed a discreet hand to the communicator in your ear after the curtain fell behind you, and you told the team. 

“He’s here.” 

Annie was no longer backstage. 

“Good job, crooner,” M.M. said on the comm. 

“Watch him ‘til he’s ready to leave,” Butcher said to everyone.

You agreed and dodged the manager so you could slip to the back room within the dressing room. 

You were about to change into your real clothes (and grab your gun), when you were stopped by a Latino man. Though he clearly wasn’t a local or a tourist. He looked ex-military, complete with a crew cut and dark beard. 

“Soldier Boy would like to meet you,” he said in lightly accented English. You affected some doe-eyed shock, even though some of your surprise was genuine. 

You’d just wanted to keep him watching the show. You hadn’t expected him to take the bait this much. 

“Oh, wow…where? Now?” you asked.

“Now,” he confirmed. “Upstairs.”

He couldn’t even pick me up himself? Lazy, you wanted to tsk.

You spied the stage manager over by the doorway. He gave you a stern nod that told you that you had no choice but to accept. 

Not that you ever intended to decline. Though of fucking course the manager had known Soldier Boy was here. He was probably a damn regular. 

You gave Soldier Boy’s man a charming smile. “Lead the way.”

This wasn’t the plan, exactly. You decided it was even better though. Just infinitely more dangerous. 

Even though you had years of training, honing your body and your mind in a fight, you weren’t a supe. You were, in fact, exceedingly breakable.

“Are you crazy, cherie?” Frenchie said on the comm. 

You also thought you heard M.M. mutter an, “Aw shit.”

“She don’t got a choice now,” Butcher said. “But it’s a good play to get him alone. Slip her one of them hockey pucks.”

You heard M.M., Annie, Butcher, and Frenchie’s continued twittering back and forth about the change of plan. Meanwhile, you were being escorted upstairs.

Kimiko managed to maneuver into your path from the opposite direction, and she slipped a small disk into your hand as she passed you. 

You gave her a grateful wink and discreetly placed the device into your bra while your escort wasn’t looking. 

It wasn’t a dose of Novichok, but it was something that might keep Soldier Boy occupied for a moment. You intended to use it if he got too fucking handsy.

You were let into a room on the third floor. With the lavish way it was furnished, complete with a king-sized bed, it almost looked like a hotel room. 

Yeah, Hotel California, you thought wryly, as the door shut behind you. 

Soldier Boy sat at a table by the far wall, gazing out the window with yet another joint (or perhaps the same one?) and a generous pour of whiskey in his hand. 

Even you could admit, he cut an attractive figure. He was dressed in light brown slacks, a matching suit jacket and a white dress shirt with the top buttons left open. A simple ensemble, but well-tailored and suited to the golden tan he’d developed here in South America. His beard was neatly trimmed, his short hair styled back in its familiar sweep on both sides. 

Even seated, his posture was casual, yet controlled as his head turned to meet your gaze. A smile started to curve his lips. 

Show time, you told yourself. 

“You’re new,” he said. You tilted your head, a bit of flirtation in your smile.

“What makes you say that?” you asked.

He gave you an oh please look. With the hand that held his whiskey, he gestured with a curling finger. 

“Come ‘ere. Don’t be shy,” he said. It was an order rather than a request, but you hid your instinctive annoyance.

You subtly took in a steadying breath. And you moved farther into the room. You didn’t stop until you were sitting opposite him at the window, crossing your legs beneath the table. 

You could tell he’d expected you to take a seat in his lap, but to a degree, you didn’t want to do what he expected. He was likely paying the club well for this time. You didn’t want to make it easy.

You wanted him to be enticed. Invested in this moment. 

And distracted, for as long as he let you. 

You watched him glance down with interest at your bare leg peeking out. At your strappy silver heel shining along with your dress in the soft lamplight, which casted shadows across his profile. 

“Want a drink?” he asked. 

You were surprised he was offering you anything. You’d half-expected him to order you onto your knees already. Upon which, he would’ve received the gift currently residing in your bra a bit early. 

You didn't want to take any drink you hadn't poured yourself, but you also needed to keep this act going...

"I'm not gonna fucking drug you," he said, reading the look in your eyes. "What would be the fucking point of that?"

Hmph. smart-ass motherfucker, you thought. But you didn't detect a lie.

You quirked your head and took the proffered sip from his glass. You wanted to play it cool, but maybe you also needed a little liquid courage. 

“All right, easy on the booze. Get his guard down,” Butcher said in your ear. You resisted the urge to frown.

Could Butcher see you somehow too? Or was he just hearing the ice clinking in the glass as you gulped it down. 

“Did you enjoy my performance?” you asked Soldier Boy.

“Still am, doll face,” he said with a smirk. You raised a brow. 

“I’m not that new,” you replied, biting indelicately on a dark cherry. Your heeled foot slowly slid against the inside of his thigh. 

It was his turn to raise brow. His head tilted with his smirk. 

You didn’t know if he was more amused than turned on, but his gaze roamed openly over your legs, the cleavage on display, your dark red lips. 

“Are you enjoying your stay in Medellin?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation going. 

“Oh, yeah. I’m having a fuckin’ ball,” he said wryly. He dabbed some ash off his blunt with a finger. 

There was something off there, and you didn’t miss it.

“You sound bored,” you said. Soldier Boy considered you with a lustful, challenging gaze. 

“Maybe. You gonna help me with that, sweetheart?”

A flutter of nerves churned in your belly, but you used it, letting the feeling prickle awareness across your skin. 

“Depends,” you said coyly. 

Both his brows rose this time, as if he was surprised you were actually pretending to resist him. 

“On?”

You subtly leaned forward when you gave him back his glass, allowing him to spy a bit more down your dress. You stared into his deep green eyes, and tried not to get lost yourself. He was an attractive man, but he was also your target. A job you intended to finish. 

A smile played at your lips.

“On what excites you,” you replied. 

By the way his eyes darkened, his smile curving, you thought he liked that answer. 

Then his hand extended toward you, a silent command in his gaze. Steeling yourself, you tried your best to be graceful and sensuous when you took his hand. He playfully jerked you forward, making you fall into his lap. 

You waved some dank weed smoke out of your face as you looked down at his amused one. 

He was nearly down to the roach on his joint. Meanwhile, his free heavy hand slid up your bare leg, disappearing beneath your dress and making goosebumps spread across your skin. Your breath hitched, though you disguised it with a smile. 

“You afraid of me, sweetheart?” he cooed. 

Yes, if you were honest with yourself. 

There was a false sense of security in his deep voice. You looked down into his eyes, very green and intensely focused on you, despite his air of nonchalance. 

“Not really,” you replied. “Only that you might get ash on my dress.”

He chuckled, smoke blowing out his nose. He put out the joint in the ashtray and took another sip of his whiskey, likely to drown out the cotton taste in his mouth. You laid a hand on his chest, fingers spreading between the open buttons, and felt his warm skin. 

He glanced up at you with another challenging tilt to his head. What are you gonna do now?

You met that challenge, boldly leaning down to press a kiss against his lips. You held his face, delving your fingers into his soft hair. 

Soldier Boy grabbed your hips with a bruising force. It made you wince, instinctively biting into his lower lip. He uttered a pleased sound, guttural in this throat. You braced yourself against the wall behind him for leverage as his chair started to tip back. 

Before either of you could fall, he lifted you effortlessly by the waist and pivoted, pinning you against that wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist as his tongue invaded your mouth, devouring you with hot and heavy hands holding you in place.

His fingers pressed into the flesh of your thighs, and you knew you couldn’t easily escape if you needed to.

This is getting out of hand… 

He was busy kissing a wet and sloppy line down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. It actually felt so fucking good to be touched. You hadn’t experienced it in so long, it almost startled you when your heated core pulsed with the friction you were feeling against the hardness in his slacks. 

You would never admit it, but it wasn’t an act when you moaned into his ear. Fuck…

But when his hand again slipped under your dress and crept up your inner thigh, alarm bells triggered in your mind as panic started to set in. You panted for breath. 

With him seemingly distracted, you reached down into your bra and grabbed the metal disk. 

You gasped as Soldier Boy grabbed your wrist, tight as a vice. He looked down at you with a sly grin. 

“You were fuckable in black, but red’s my favorite so far,” he said. 

Your eyes widened. When the hell did he see me in black?

And then you remembered. You’d worn a black dress at the last club, where you got groped on the dance floor and found Soldier Boy’s latest note…

Had he hung around after all, watching you and the team pick up his clues?

And you realized, he knew exactly who you were. 

Soldier Boy glanced down at your lips, then at the tops of your breasts heaving as you caught your breath. His eyes shone with mischief and lust. 

“It’s a real shame. You’re probably a good fuck too,” he remarked. It sparked your irate disgust like a wildfire.

Then you smirked. “You can fuck this.” 

You activated the disk in your hand and flicked it at him. He instinctively grabbed at his face, releasing you. The device attached to his cheek and electrified enough volts through his body to drop an elephant. 

Maybe five. The CIA weapons specialist hadn’t been too sure.

And a star bolt shot Soldier Boy in the chest, shoving him away before he could grab at you. 

You jumped back and continued to put several feet of distance between you and Soldier Boy, while Annie and the rest of your team poured into the room. They were poised for a fight, once Soldier Boy ripped the device off his face with a grunt. It probably hadn’t hurt him much, but he looked pissed now. 

He rolled the kinks out of his neck and surveyed the room with a slow gait. He spared you a fleeting glance. You were now at the safety of Kimiko’s side, and Frenchie handed you a gun. 

“Ah, the Scooby Gang,” Soldier Boy remarked. He nodded at Butcher. “This is how you repay me for taking care of Homelander? My own son.”

“He weren’t your fucking son,” Butcher replied. “I’d reckon you know that best of all.”

Soldier Boy’s lips twitched. Whether at a smile or a frown, you couldn’t tell. 

“You found me, remember? So what, you got buyer’s remorse?” he said.

“See, the problem is, supes like you are what we call,” said Butcher, “a menace to fucking society.” 

Soldier Boy’s lips pulled down into a frown. He looked a cross between annoyed and impatient. 

“I fought for my country. I saved lives—”

“You took just as many as you might’ve saved,” M.M. interrupted. “And not just that building you burnt the fuck up last year.” 

Soldier Boy hesitated at that. “You really wanna do this?” 

You all really want to die? his eyes said. He got determined silence from all of you. He rolled his shoulders and adjusted his blazer. 

“All right,” he shrugged. 

Then all hell broke loose. You ducked for cover as Soldier Boy deflected the giant flare gun M.M. shot at him. With his bare hand. 

Hired security then poured into the room—you assumed hired by Soldier Boy. And you protected Hughie from getting his neck snapped by shooting a man between the eyes.

You and M.M. continued to fight them off. Meanwhile, Kimiko and Annie tried to give Butcher and Frenchie a chance to get close with the Novichok gas on Soldier Boy. 

You took care of three more men before you heard a low buzzing sound. You turned around, and a gasp fell from your lips when you saw Soldier Boy’s chest lighting up. 

You knew what came next. 

And so did Annie. She poured her all into her next star bolt—which managed to shove Soldier Boy through the window. She and Kimiko flew or otherwise ran out the window to follow him. While Butcher, Frenchie, and M.M. helped you fight off the last of the hired guns. 

Finally, you covered Hughie as the five of you left the normal, human way, and ran down the stairs to exit the club. By the time you were able to join Annie and Kimiko, however, Soldier Boy had disappeared.

You glared down the dark, busy streets of Medellin. 

Damn it!

You returned to the hotel disappointed and angry beyond fucking belief. Mostly at yourself.

After all the work you did, having to seduce and make out with that bastard, only to discover he’d made you long before you took the stage at the club.

Fucking hell, you thought angrily as you kicked at your suitcase. It sent your clothes tumbling across the dirty carpet, but right now you didn’t give a fuck. Damn cocky bastard. 

In the bathroom, you kicked off your heels in relief. You looked yourself over in the mirror and found various cuts and bruises from the fight. Your softly curled hair was a shambles, along with your makeup. 

Parts of your dress were torn, along with your pantyhose. Which was probably Soldier Boy’s doing, if you thought about it. You sighed. 

You were about to start undressing, but then you heard something. A small sound, like a thump. 

Your gun was on the table in the main room. Frowning in suspicion, you left the bathroom cautiously. Before your hand could close around your gun, a gloved hand grabbed your wrist. 

You aimed a punch with your free one and caught a man directly in the jaw. He reeled back, but was quick to recover and try to grab you again. 

While the guy was strong, you could feel that he wasn’t a supe. A human, you could deal with. He wore a mask over his face, but you could see he had shoulder-length brown hair. He was tall and lean, and one of his boots was strangely larger than the other.

You didn’t have time to focus on it. You redirected his following blow and used his strength against him, flipping him over your shoulder. Unfortunately, he landed on the table that held your poor laptop. 

“Aw, shit,” you snapped with a grimace. You searched for your gun in the wreckage. 

While you were somewhat distracted, he aimed a kick that caught you in the face, sending you onto your back with a pained cry. You quickly rolled over and got to your feet, just as your attacker threw out fist after fist.

You dodged and shoved away most of them, until he grabbed your arm and managed to crack his elbow into your temple.

You went down and hit your head hard against the bedframe.

And it was lights out.

You slowly, painfully woke up in a moving car. 

You were suffering the cottony taste of a gag in your mouth and a musty bag over your head. Your wrists were tied in front of you, and it felt like you were shoved into the backseat. The car was quiet, save for the radio playing Latin pop on low volume. 

You never would’ve thought Shakira would be the background track of your kidnapping, but here you were. 

The car eventually stopped and you were dragged out, forced onto your feet on a cobblestone driveway. Then into a house. 

…Well, this fucking sucks.

The thought rattled through your mind as you were led down a hallway, across a cold expanse of tile floor. You couldn’t see where you were going with this stuffy bag over your head, but you knew it was tile. Your bare feet all but scraped across it as they dragged you. 

Whoever held your arms in a vice grip eventually forced you to sit in a rickety wooden chair. They pulled your wrists behind the chair and bound them together with a zip tie. 

You felt the slit on your dress sliding open, so you crossed your legs, for whatever good that would do you. At the very least, it would give the impression that you were sitting here casually, and not (figuratively) shitting yourself with fear.  

“What the hell is this?” a deep, familiar voice asked.

“A gift.” You knew this voice as well. Neither one instilled you with calm.

Then the bag finally came off your head. The gag did not, however. You knew your red dress was in unfortunate tatters. You knew you were bruised and scratched, and overall worse for wear.

But when your gaze found your kidnapper, you glared up at him with a stubborn tilt to your chin. Antonio, Señor Groping Bastard from the club, was smirking back at you. 

What the fuck.

Then you noticed him.

Soldier Boy stared back at you with raised brows, and instant recognition in his eyes. His lips curved into a smirk.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

AN: 😬 So we finally made it to the prologue opener! Was it everything you thought it would be? How did you like her attempt at "undercover?" 🤭

And are you ready for what's coming next?

To keep reading: Part 3

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @pallographsunspot @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303 @123passwort @xoxovienna @magnificentnightmarehadi @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @yvonneeeee @fckinel @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @waters-2567 @emily-winchester

[eretzyisrael]

Former Miss Iraq pays sympathy visit to site of Hamas slaughter

Sarah Idan (left), former Miss Iraq, on a visit to the site of Kfar Aza, one of the sites ravaged by Hamas terrorists on 7 October

“I visited Kfar Aza, a place where the heart-wrenching horror of Hamas’s infiltration led to a massacre of innocent Israeli families right in their homes,” tweeted Idan, a Democrat running to represent California’s 30th congressional district in place of Adam Schiff, who is vying to enter the U.S. Senate in 2024.

“Located just a mile from Gaza, we stood witness as the Iron Dome intercepted rockets launched by Hamas. I brought my old uniform from Iraq to be mentally prepared, but I was still shocked and at a loss for words. Never in my life, not even amidst the terror of ISIS, have I seen such barbarity. What was once a vibrant community now echoes with a haunting silence of tragedy,” she continued.

By “uniform,” Idan means the camouflage pants, T-shirt reading “Fight Back” and combat boots that she wore as a translator for U.S.-led coalition forces in Iraq.

“I don’t care what’s your religion if your God permits you to do this in his name then your God is wrong. My mind is still traumatized by the scene, the smell of the dead bodies. Shame on those pretending the massacre didn’t happen,” she tweeted.

More than a hundred civilians were murdered and others were kidnapped from Kfar Aza when 3,000 heavily armed Hamas terrorists forced their way across the border and rampaged across the northwestern Negev, murdering around 1,200 persons in total, mostly civilians, wounding thousands more and taking some 240 hostages back to Gaza.

Idan and her family were forced to flee Iraq after she posed for a selfie with Miss Israel Adar Gandelsman at the Miss Universe pageant in Las Vegas in 2017 and wearing a bikini in a swimsuit competition.

Her Iraqi citizenship revoked, Idan immigrated to the United States in 2017.

On May 19, she filed her candidacy for the California seat, which includes the cities of Burbank and West Hollywood, and parts of Glendale and Pasadena.

Read article in full

Iraq beauty queen:’people in Israel looked like my people’

Miss Iraq rebuilding relations between Arabs and Jews

Brave Iraqis get awards for advocating normalisation

[peaceloveandahardcock]

This is pissing me off something unbelievable because the terrariums are genuinely so fuvking cool like astronomically cool but having them in this context is like holding a hostage victim imprisoned amongst the lamest shit you can imagine. its like seeing the love of your life win fourth place in a midwest beauty pageant. The weed wallpaper. God im going to be sick

[virgo-mess]

Kidnapper for Hire

Chapter Two

This is going to be a two part chapter and this part is on the shorter side but I hope you like it anyway. I will probably do a little editing after I upload but there should be no serious changes

TW: Mentions of murder, Reader is being held hostage, police corruption, Cash is sending mixed signals but I think he's genuinely as confused as reader is, and I guess you could say the kiss boarders on dub con in this situation given the circumstances.

Kidnapper for Hire Chapter Two: Officer Giraffe

Reader’s Pov

You let out a soft sigh as you lay your head against one of the trucks seats with heavy eyelids. Your abductor had been driving for at least two hours now making small talk with you every so often, in what you think is an attempt to soothe you. Which you still find utterly confusing considering the circumstances, why didn’t he just get this out of the way this afternoon. You’d never admit it out loud but, he could’ve coaxed you into his truck at the café quite easily if he actually tried because although you found him intimidating you couldn’t deny you found him incredibly alluring. You would’ve thought a man as attractive as him would have at least an ounce of James Green’s inflated ego, you would argue someone as pretty as your kidnapper actually deserved to have such an ego. Sure, James was rich but truthfully that was the only thing moderately attractive about him and he knew it, you were honestly surprised he sent a man this handsome to get you because everything about James screamed insecure. That was why he had to buy everyone off, that was why he tried to buy you and Simone off, he knew deep down that regardless of money you wouldn’t pick him, especially not with options like the man he hired out there. Honestly, if James hadn’t sponsored that pageant, and you had simply passed him on the street you wouldn’t have given him a second glance. You assume the only reason he picked this man was because he was a cop, a dirty cop at that, you can’t help but wonder what James offered him in return for doing this and you also wonder if he knows he won’t actually be getting whatever it was he offered him. It was clear to you that after all had been said and done the only person with their hands dirty in the end would be him.

You continue to stare up at him from your position on the floor admiring the way the lights on the highway illuminate his pretty blue eyes. You can’t tell if he’s taking you out of the city, he got on the expressway a while ago, but you consider this may just be an attempt to throw you off. Amy already told you he was renting one of the properties near the Cape May Lighthouse, that should’ve been you first clue that something was amiss, families spent thousands to rent out the beach front houses on a weekly basis in the summer and most of them were from the wealthier parts of Manhattan. He didn’t strike you as a trust fund baby and the odds of a cop being able to afford one of those houses on a policeman’s salary were slim. You glance at him again and wonder why he’s still bothering to wear a ski mask when you already knew what he looked like, and he didn’t have a face that was easy to forget. Part of you just wanted him to take it off so you had something beautiful to look at in your numbered days left on this planet. Your love and sex life had been high and dry long before you ended up on that roof in Seattle. Contrary to what most people wanted to believe, even beauty queens struggled when it came to love and relationships. You never knew if someone genuinely liked you or if they just liked the way you looked, such was the case for your last serious relationship, the first and only one you’d ever really been in, and it only lasted your senior year at UCLA. To this day you still aren’t sure if your ex ever actually liked you because it seemed to you, he only liked the way people looked at him when he was with you. Sure, he bought you flowers once a week, but he could never remember what your favorite one was or what your favorite color was or even how you took your tea and coffee. Your split was amicable, but you regretted ever trying to be intimate with someone who didn’t even love you, you could count the times you had something resembling sex on two fingers and both times were awkward and deeply unsatisfying. To the point where you just didn’t have a desire to ever do it again.

So, needless to say, that sudden wave of arousal you felt while you were being taken against your will was bewildering. Even as you stared at him now, with your heart still heavy with trepidation, you couldn’t help but feel drawn to him for some reason. You wonder if he knows he’s leading you to your impending doom right now, you still didn’t know why James killed Simone, but you were sure he thought you turning him in was a thousand times worse than whatever it was he thought she’d done. Considering he went through all this trouble to track you down, how he was able to find you in the first place was another issue entirely. He had to have had a connection inside the U.S. Marshals Service, you were beginning to regret not taking Jim’s call, but you can’t help but wonder if Jim was your betrayer.

“What are you thinking so hard about down there, princess” his deep teasing voice floods through the truck pulling you out of your thoughts, you feel a blush sweep across your cheeks as you realize you’d been staring at him for at least ten minutes. You blink a few times letting your eyes trail over his tall, muscled form as you contemplate what question to ask him first.

“Why are you still wearing a mask, I hate to break it to you, but I already know what you look like, Giraffe” you quipped, toying with one of your shoelaces absentmindedly as you stare up at him. You see his eyes narrow slightly as he let out an annoyed sounding sigh under his breath, you can’t help the amused smile that twitches on your lips when he yanks the mask off and plops it in your lap. His grey hair is a tousled mess, sticking up at odd angles but he somehow still manages to look like he belongs in a magazine spread. You wonder why he even bothered to become a cop if money was all he cared about in the world, he could’ve quite easily have been a successful model, actor, or dare you say male escort….

“Forgot it was on. Oh, Giraffe, that’s really cute princess. I don’t think anyone has called me that since I was ten” he said sarcastically, you don’t miss the snarky eye roll he gives you even in the dim lighting and you can’t help but roll your eyes yourself.

“What do you expect me to call you, it’s not like you introduced yourself when you broke into my house and kidnapped me, did you. I can think of a few other things to call you if you’d like, none of them will be quite that cute though” you said in a bratty tone with a slight scowl making its way onto your face as you stare up at him. Wondering where he found the audacity to be the one complaining right now. His body tenses slightly, as he glances down at you with an unreadable expression on his face before focusing his icy eyes back on the road.

“I’m not sure what you think you have to lose by telling me your name. We both know I’m not making it out of this alive anyway, surely James Green told you that. Since you’re the catalyst of my impending demise the very least you could do is tell me your name, officer Giraffe” you quipped sharply, you don’t miss the way his large, gloved hands tighten around the steering wheel, you find yourself wishing it was your neck instead, silently begging him to put you out of your misery. You watch his chest rise and fall with every deep breath he takes before meeting your gaze with intense blue eyes filled with a shocking amount of anguish as they stare back at you.

“He assured me you weren’t going to die, Y/N” he said calmly, you scoff looking up at him incredulously before letting out a bitter humorless laugh at his mock ignorance. If that was all it took to get him to kidnap you then he was a dirtier cop than you thought, no one could be that stupid.

“Don’t tell me you actually believed that I know you’re a dirty cop but not even you could be that stupid. You know it’s not true, you want to believe it is to make yourself feel better about what you’re doing which is fine but at least admit that to yourself. You’re a shitty person, own it, accept it, you’ve already decided my life is worth less than whatever it is he’s offering you so, you don’t have to convince me my life meant or means something to you at all. If it did you would’ve asked me why I moved across the country to get away from him, why I’m always alone when I clearly don’t want to be, or why I lock down my house every night like it’s the god damn white house. So cut the shit or shut up” you snapped, feeling your eyes sting a bit with fresh tears welling up in them, feeling completely overwhelmed. You take a few calming breaths but let the tears fall from your eyes because you can’t remember the last time you had even cried in the last two years. You didn’t cry at the station, and you never got to go to Simone’s funeral, so you didn’t go through the whole grieving process. You just shut down and went into a constant state of emotional numbness, you had no one to lean on the program required you to not contact former friends and family that weren’t in the program, and you were told to never return to San Francisco. The place where you and Simone grew up together, you had so many memories of riding the cable cars down to Fisherman’s Wharf to ride the carousal and seeing which one of you could eat a whole Killer Crab at the Crab House. You often wondered what your parents and Simone’s parents think happened to you or if they thought of you at all, at the time you thought it would be best to not get them mixed up in the mess you had found yourself in. You never considered the fact that to them it might feel like they lost two daughters that night, you always reassured yourself they would at least get closure once the Feds finished their case against James Green but now that possibility seemed more and more unlikely.

“Y/N, hey, shhh” he said softly, you jump slightly in surprise when you hear that name fall from his lips again, it still sounded so foreign, but you like the way it sounds when he says it for some reason and you hate yourself for it. You don’t reply as you curl your body away from him resting your head on the seat and pulling your knees into your chest. You watch the tops of glowing streetlamps pass the passenger window with silent tears rolling off your cheeks onto the car seat, two years’ worth of repressed emotions finally freeing themselves from their confines.

“What’s your name” you breathed out just above a whisper, you feel his arm stiffen slightly, halting the soothing passes, a bewildering wave of panic curses through you when he starts to pull away. “No, please don’t stop” you whined, turning your body to face him. He gazes down at you for a long moment, the soft yellow orange glow of a traffic light dancing on the side of his face as the truck comes to a stop indicating that you’re no longer on a highway. You feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment as you remember what’s actually happening and what he’s actually doing. You let out a shaky breath aggressively wiping the rest of your tears away as you move further away from him. Slightly angry with yourself for allowing that moment to even happen, you didn’t deserve to be comforted, you didn’t comfort Simone in her final moments, so why should you be comforted in yours.

You’re surprised to find that crying actually makes you feel better, relieved even, like the weight of some of the emotional baggage you’d been carrying around for two years was finally being lifted off your shoulders. You hear your kidnapper shuffling around for a bit before you feel his hand making soft passes through your hair, his fingers tuck some of it behind your ear and you notice he’s no longer wearing a glove. As he drags a knuckle gingerly down the length of your cheek, wiping a few of the tears away, you absentmindedly lean into his touch liking the way his slightly callused skin feels against your soft skin. You couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched or comforted you, let alone like this. So, you let him continue dragging his warm rough fingers down your skin and through your hair for what feels like forever, the gentleness he seems keen on showing you is still confusing. You’re sure James told him to keep you alive but a small part of you would be more accepting of your impending demise if your perplexing kidnapper cop was the one doing it because, at least then you’d know you’d die feeling somewhat content.

“Forget what I just said, I don’t want you to touch me, and I don’t want you to comfort me. Not now, not when you’re doing this to me, okay.” You snapped, surprising yourself with how confidently it came out because although you were strangely attracted to him, you were still very much afraid of him. You wonder how a cop, someone sworn to protect and serve others, could stray so far down a path like this. A green blue hue from the traffic light illuminates the truck and the side of his face but he makes no effort to hit the gas, still staring down at you.

“My name is Cash and I promise you’re not going to die; I will not let it happen, okay” he said just above a whisper, ignoring the angry blare of the car horn behind you as he looked at you with sincere blue eyes. Cash reached one of his hands out toward you, tucking it under your arm he pulled you onto the passenger seat with ease, he peels his eyes off you for a moment to step on the gas. You can’t bring yourself to focus on anything passing the windows because your eyes are locked on him, taking in his every move, every mannerism, with perplexed fascination.  Cash keeps his icy eyes on the road with furrowed brows, looking like he was having an internal battle with himself as his glove free hand leaves the steering wheel to hover over your smaller one several times.

“I was really hoping you’d fall asleep before we get there, y/n..” He trailed softly, you tense up uncomfortably despite the gentle tone he uses, a soft whimper escapes your lips as you stare at him with untrusting eyes. Cash seems to resolve his internal dilemma upon hearing the sound fall from your parted lips his large glove free hand falls on top of your smaller one, dragging his calloused thumb over your soft skin gingerly. Another faint red glow flows through the windshield, and the truck rolls to a slow stop, the rev of the engine still vibrating through the leather seats. Cash’s large, muscled form ghosts the side of your body almost teasingly as he finally meets your gaze his eyes look less icy as they stare back at you this time, looking almost inviting in the dim glow of the traffic light and passing headlights.

“James won’t be there, y/n, I promise” he cooed into your ear, his lips lingering next to your face for a moment before settling on your cheek in the form of a kiss. The tender peck sends a shiver down your spine and a blush flooding to your cheeks as he pulls away to gauge your reaction. You furrow your brows as your perplexed fascination with him deepens, taking in his every move with curious eyes. Cash cocked his head at you, his eyes searching yours for something with a slight smirk playing on his lips in the dim lighting his thumb is still stroking the back of your hand slowly.

“What was that for” you said softly, staring at him intensely as he flicked his eyes back towards the now green traffic light wordlessly hitting the gas pedal.

“Why, do you want another one, how about I do you one better. I’ll give you a real one if you promise to go to sleep for me right now, princess and then I’ll tell you what it was for in the morning” he coaxed flirtatiously, you gasped softly staring back at him in disbelief.

“What” you said, Cash glanced at you with an unreadable expression as the truck slowed to a stop once again, his blue eyes were still soft as they scanned over your face for a moment.

“If you say, “I promise to go to sleep Cash”, I’ll give you a kiss goodnight, y/n and then you’ll go to sleep.” he crooned smirking at you in the dim glow of the traffic light. You cock an eyebrow at him in bewilderment as you stare at him with calculating eyes, wondering if he was being serious or just toying with you out of spite.

“I promise to go to sleep… officer giraffe” you said coyly, innocently batting your eyelashes at him but still somehow managing to keep a straight face as you gauge his reaction.  He doesn’t seem half as bothered as when you called him that twenty minutes ago, in fact you think you saw an amused smile play on his lips for a moment.

“I suppose that close enough for tonight, princess” he said softly, slowly leaning his face towards yours, you feel your heartrate pick up suddenly feeling very nervous, you didn’t think he was actually going to do it. And now you couldn’t believe you were contemplating letting him do it, letting him kiss you when he had just taken you against your will mere hours ago. You find you can’t really think straight as his blue eyes inch closer to you, until they're indistinguishable blue blobs.

“Ready” he breathed out, his hot breath washing over your lips gently, your heart is pounding so fast you’re sure he can hear it above the faint sounds of car tires rolling over pavement. You inhale sharply, only giving him a sound of acknowledgement as your brain doesn’t seem to be forming words right now. Cash makes a pleased sounding murmur before letting his lip touch yours in a feather like peck that could hardly pass as a real kiss, it’s teasing at best, and you’re surprised to find yourself annoyed with him for it.

“That’s not a r…” your words die in your throat when he captures you in a second more intense kiss that had you fighting back a moan as you kissed him back. You hadn’t kissed anyone in about five years, and you couldn’t remember one ever feeling like this one and you couldn’t help but hate yourself for it. Cash pulled away abruptly, breathing heavily as he looked at you with dark almost confused eyes.

“Now, what did you promise me, princess” he coaxed, leaning back against the driver’s seat with an almost adoring smile despite the way the events have unraveled in the last couple hours and your impending doom on the horizon. You open and close your mouth to speak several times but can’t seem to find the words as you throw you head back against the car seat defeated.  “Why don’t you lay your head on my lap, so you don’t hurt your neck, princess…” he said softly…

[marley-manson]

scattered thoughts on season 2 of xena after marathoning it over a few nights.

-- Girls Just Wanna Have Fun is so fun lmao, it didn't even occur to me that the vampire ladies could've been hypnotizing Gab until I saw it mentioned in a tumblr post lol, I 100% just took it as Gabrielle being attracted to them. I mean one of them even has a buzzcut.

-- Xena is great because it's a true genderswapped cheesy genre show, complete with extremely bland one episode love interests who die to provide our heroes with manpain. Also Xena totally subconsciously let Callisto kill Perdicus, come on. Loved Gab's rage afterwards <3

-- Lucy Lawless and Hudson Leick are excellent at playing each other. Hudson Leick is so good as Xena that I always forget Lucy Lawless isn't actually in Ten Little Warlords lol, and Lucy Lawless' Callisto is great too, especially when she's playing Callisto pretending to be Xena.

-- Love Ares' first episode as a mortal too. Love that he's scared of rats, a decent fighter but still needs Xena to save him a few times, and the moment where he contemplates having actual blood on his hands for the first time is *chef kiss*

-- I'd skipped Miss Amphipolis when I first watched Xena because I'd heard it was transphobic, and then saw a post praising the episode for its progressiveness so I was like hm I guess I'll give it a shot. Honestly, it had its good elements, but yeah I think the criticism is warranted. Awesome if it's true that Karen Dior was openly HIV+ when she and Lucy Lawless kissed here, love that. And if the idea was that Miss Artiphys was more a drag queen than a trans woman it's not too bad I guess? But if she was meant to be trans then yikes, terrible depiction, lots of 'he's really a man' shit (plus the name c'mon). And the lack of clarity doesn't help either way.

Also Gabrielle's mild homophobia was a weird choice, and I didn't like that she only won after every other woman turned down the crown lol - I get the point that none of them really wanted it or enjoyed the pageant while Artiphys did, but I feel like that point could've been made without putting her in last place.

Kudos to the director for objectifying her just as much as any other woman though lol.

-- They should've given a little bit more time to Xena and M'lila's relationship in Destiny, since her death is the catalyst for her going evil, but unfortunately it felt like a very arbitrary final straw. It was funny though that M'lila died for her because she just knew it wasn't Xena's time to die yet lol. Like c'mon, at least imply they got close off-screen.

-- Also Xena 🤝 Dennis Reynolds: because of the implication. I'm actually torn on how much that's intended lol, because on the one hand they certainly do not frame Xena as an actual rapist here, she's still sympathetic and Caesar's still the ruthless villian. But on the other hand the predator/prey metaphor when she was coming onto him was incredibly on the nose (she even says "cutting off his path of retreat" like, yikes girl); Xena later points out that crucifying her was an overreaction and thinks she must've fucked with his head; Caesar has psychosexual nightmares about her in another later ep (ie killing him mid sex basic instinct style); and Caesar's "all those who prey on Rome" line is basically the payoff to his earlier "I am Rome" thing, essentially a coded way of phrasing "prey on me," which fits the sex thing more than the hostage thing, since that was literally preying on Rome.

Idk, I'm curious what the writers were aiming for here. Maybe some of it's just meant to suggest that Caesar has a crush and is mad about it lol, but it's eyebrow raising.

-- Also also: the montage of Gab and Xena at the end of Destiny is so ridiculously romantic <3

-- I love that Xena agrees to only possess Autolycus when he gives her permission, then bodyjacks him whenever he says no anyway. Autolycus is a delight in this ep. And I love how the show does everything it can to make it clear that it's Xena kissing Gabrielle in Autolycus' body, from Bruce Campbell's acting demonstrating exactly when he regains control of himself, to his "Seems like you two worked things out" in repsonse to the kiss, to him not noticing his hand was still on Gab's ass lmao.

-- A Day in the Life is still such a ridiculously good episode.

-- Can't believe how almost explicitly gay Blind Faith is even with the rest of season 2 to compare it to. Like okay maybe it's not quite The Quest's kiss, but something about Gabrielle's conversation with the gay dude where they both very overtly use ambiguous pronouns for the people they love feels like a step beyond. It's not just two close characters who love each other, it's lesbians situated specifically in a gay solidarity context, idk. I love it.

-- Also I cite this a lot but idc, I still fucking LOVE that Xena is temporarily rendered blind in this episode and she is still never physically challenged by anyone in a fight lmao. Like you'd think as a plotpoint it would be a way to have her uncharacteristically defenseless and reliant on this one-ep dude to defend her, right? Nope, she still outclasses him, all she needs him for is to watch out for cliff edges.

-- Also also I love that this annoying dude sees her as an idol and it's just accepted as obvious, absolutely no commentary on a dude modeling himself after a woman. She's Xena, of course aspiring warlords desperately wanna be her.

-- Ulysses here to reassure the straight audience after the tidal wave of gay we've seen in the last few episodes, but it can't even do that right because Gabrielle and Xena still 100% interact like they're hooking up and catching feelings but not exclusive.

-- The Price would be a perfect episode if it weren't for the racism in the depiction of the antagonist force, man, it's such a blot on an ideal Xena story. Also Xena is at her absolute sexiest here. I'm usually more of a Gab girl, but fuuuuuuck her hardass sadistic commander persona has me like 🥵. Hits the perfect balance of serious and dark, while her warlord flashbacks tend to be a little too exaggerated and campy to be truly sexy to me.

-- Also another episode where I love how men relate to Xena. She shows up, they find out she's Xena, and they immediately go "holy shit please take over, please command us, you're our only hope."

-- Cecrops is one of my favourite one-ep characters I think

-- Comedy of Eros is dumb but fun lol, I always enjoy how the show flips the script for Xena's occasional heterosexual turns, in the sense that she's the active participant, acting upon the men and going for what she wants. It is a relief when it stops being earnest and starts being solely for the sake of manipulation though lol, and I'm glad we have Cupid to blame for this one too. In fact, I think all the genuine reciprocated het is behind us now, right?

-- I love the fake out where Gabrielle nearly sees Xena first before Joxer gets in the way. I feel like I've seen some writer say once that they considered having Gabrielle fall in love with Xena for this episode, but they decided against it because they didn't want it to be a joke she gets over, and I am 100% behind that reasoning. It would've felt cheap imo. But the tease was cute lol, they know what the audience wants.

[nancydrewwouldnever]

I'm tired of People Magazine shilling for celebrities. There was a time when they actually reported the unsavory news, and weren't kissing up to celebrities. Now they shill for anyone and everything.

Josh Duhamel has article on their site where he mentions meeting his now wife. He slid into her DMs when she was in her mid 20s 👀, didn't think they would get serious given the age difference, and 5 years later they're married expecting a child. She is now 29 to his 50. She was a former pageant winner.

They did the same thing a few weeks ago for Liev Schreiber and his now wife who is 24 years younger. When they first started dating, Liev claimed she just the nanny. She is another former pageant winner turned yoga instructor.

It should be noted all of these guys were married or in long-term relationships with women in their age bracket before becoming cliche'.

Another thing, I don't think Mila Kunis and Ashton Kutcher got enough criticism for their actions. The hostage apology video is just icing on the cake.

The Sophia Turner and Joe Jonas divorce PR battle is fascinating. Joe really thought he could throw Sophia under the bus, and the GP would buy it?

Wait....

Are you telling me Liev Schreiber and Naomi Watts busted up because he fucked the nanny???!!!????? I did not know this!

[jewishbarbies]

so biden is pro ceasefire but the us abstained from the ceasefire resolution vote. make it make sense. but it passed so now what do we do to force hamas to release the hostages then? I don’t understand how we keep being so full of ourselves that we believe hamas will do anything we tell them to do just because we said so. are you gonna send militaries in? are we just going to wait it out some more? what do we do when they inevitably refuse and/or start firing on Israelis again? I’m so tired of this because it’s just turned into a virtue pageant for world leaders and no one is bringing forward plans that would do something, just competing for who can scream “ceasefire” the loudest. like, yeah, ceasefire has been done MANY times now and every time hamas breaks it. rub your brain cells together and come up with something useful or just admit you don’t care.

[ciaossu-imagines]

hey for day 20 of the event, lets talk about homra! any unpopular opinions you have about characters or the clan itself? Any AUs or ocs?

Ohhh, you might get me into trouble here, haha! I do have some very unpopular opinions about HOMRA, haha. And you all know me well enough to know I have like, a thousand AU’s for these boys!

As far as unpopular opinions go, HOMRA? Most interesting clan, by fucking far.

But guys, spicy moment here for me? HOMRA? It’s a fucking gang. HOMRA IS A GANG. They do some shady and very violent things. They break into places, they rough up people (and it’s not always horrible people). They took a school hostage in the first season and yes, we know why they did it and there’s so much sympathy for them for losing Totsuka but again – they took an entire school hostage in their search for revenge. These boys are not angels, they are not white knights in shining armor, they are not even technically ‘good guys’. I think all the characters in HOMRA have great hearts deep down, are wonderful characters and I love them all but HOMRA is morally grey – they drink, they smoke, they swear, they commit violent acts. I really hate when people completely disregard that fact and woobify the boys into these righteous, saintly guys.

Going along with that, guys, Scepter 4 are not evil. They’re really, REALLY not. Technically they are a police force, they follow the law, they don’t run around committing violence unless tasked to. They’re not horrible, slimy gross people. Their biggest flaw is that they’re just REALLY fucking boring compared to HOMRA.

With that rant over…unpopular opinion that will get me stuck in the guillotine? Yata’s a little overrated. I do enjoy him, he’s a fantastic character, I either like him a lot or just feel favourably neutral on him. But he’s so goddamn huge in the K fandom, to such an extent, that he got boring to me. Someone says K and 85% of the time, they’ll be talking about Yata or talking about the Yata/Fushimi ship. 10% of the remaining time, they’re talking about Mikoto or Totsuka, and the following 5% is dedicated to the rest of the HOMRA boys and I’m part of that 5% haha. Yata? Fricking great character. He’s interesting, dynamic, his design is well done, he has some amazing scenes. Mikoto? Absolutely frigging spectacular, I love him. Totsuka? Despite how often I kill him, he was HOMRA’s glue and an absolutely underused character that I would have loved to see more of. But HOMRA has other members than those three and those other characters are just as well designed, interesting, and dynamic and while we mostly got them in spin-off media, I wish not only the fandom, but the creators had showed them more love.

Now onto something I love – AU’s. I have a shit ton of them for HOMRA. Recent ones I’ve thought of:

A beauty pageant for guys and HOMRA, as well as Scepter 4, being the contestants.

HOMRA as the Parachute Infantry Regiment or just a general company of soldiers(Yes, I have been rewatching Band of Brothers)

HOMRA as a male stripper troop

HOMRA having to save Christmas

HOMRA as an actual bar, the guys working there and the different customers and experiences they’d have

HOMRA working at a busy retail store

Vampire!HOMRA

Genderbent HOMRA! as magical girls

Preschool K with everyone being little kids in the same preschool

HOMRA horror movie AU! Both as what they'd be like in a horror movie and imagining them as actors filming a horror movie where weird shit starts happening.

As for OC’s…I have some self-inserty type OC’s, I’ll admit to that, but other than that, only two of them. There’s a brother, who tried out and got into HOMRA and his sister, who works as a nurse, who often gets called in to patch up the boys and god, she is so constantly fucking done with them all but still enjoys them.

[cheese-water]

hi im sorry I just need to ramble gen loss crap somewhere this s relating to the pole you did I really don’t wanna ramble literal paragraphs in tags:

The dehumanization of content creator by both corporations and fans alike: Lets me honest this is just kind a the surface metaphorical meaning of it all im pretty its been confirmed if not I dont think I need to explain why.

How when our perception of reality is manipulated, our choices mean nothing: tbh this is kinda correct in a way?? Because it all ends in Ranboo dying right? Like let’s if he refuses to do the activities in ep 2 like he’s just gonna die yknow? Like the more you think about it our own choices didn’t really matter they all lead up to the ending scene of rans death. What if we chose live? Something tells me showfall would just erase his memory and reuse them and then the cycle could repeat until inevitable death.

One of many attempts to escape the facility that always ends in death: Kinda what i js said but like: Also it would be extremely hard for Ranboo in any way to escape. Primarily bc mind control. But let’s say that doesn’t apply. Try to escape the mall? Let’s be real the doors are gonna be jammed and there’s showfall people everywhere they’re probably just gonna inject Ranboo with something. Tries to prove to the cameras he being held hostage by showfall? In a ‘real world’ situation Is anyone gonna believe him? They might just think he’s acting. At some point showfall is js gonna get bored of dealing with them and just off him.

also did you see sneeg trying to escape-

The sanitization of today's media to better cater to and profit off of children: I could see this because it is also a VERY common thing in the world with like family channels, child beauty pageants, and what is more similar to genloss’s implementation of this: Ranboo blew up when he was 17! Tommy and Tubbo 16! They were literal minors! They were kids! It was and still is disgusting how much sexual content was produced of them when they were CHILDREN. There are endless examples of this: hundreds, if not THOUSANDS or articles made about an ‘offensive comment’ that was literally just taken out of context, tiktoks and threads saying THAT THEY SHOULD GROW UP?? they are kids!

honestly unsure what the cannon ages of the genloss characters are but if were going by irl ages Ranboo is still 19! Honestly more rambling about how kinda sad this is like, bro is 19 he is literally getting doxxed, death threats, and still creating genloss! Like their 19 and made a work that was considered for an Emmy! (Also being the only not virtual reality work)

The favorable interpretation of events we're supposed to believe vs. the truth: A LOT of ep 2 how they par-take in these games with seem innocent at first, just playing some mouse trap, introducing yourself, etc. but they are literally being held a gunpoint. The scene where Ranboo rips open Charlie it just seems like a comedic scene but for a few seconds the slime is blood. Ranboo is being forced to rip open Charlie simply to survive himself. The puzzler straight up shoots Niki TWICE and the audience(LITERALLY US LOL) feel bad, but a lot people find it funny(kinda is tho- low key loved that scene) obviously Niki is alive so its funnier but what if she actually died?

here’s more of my ramble on genloss meanings and stuff

I just the horrible effects of social media. hate from just being yourself, hate for being ‘fake’/ a ‘catfish’, hate for having fun, hate for not enjoying yourself and people telling you should be grateful. To the point where instead of being yourself you force yourself to shape into this emotionless mold just to appeal to the internet. You could try to ask for help(ranboo spelling sos in Morse code w hand),but your to far gone “you already bought a ticket and there’s no turning back now” I know this isn’t the most accurate but it’s literally 4am lol

Social Media|Showfall Media ya see it?

Srry for the such unorganized thoughts and crap im a dying autistic. -☁︎🪷(just a name to recognize me by you never know also I’m rambling more here about random shit-)

I’ve been trying to think of a response to this ask for a solid five minutes but I just can’t. I just, I’m so so so happy right now. Like, literally smiling ear to ear. You have no idea how happy this makes me. :DDDDD

I adore analyzing media to pieces but with genloss specifically, I also enjoy understanding all of the different influences and interpretations from the audience. Normally, once I find an interpretation I like (either created by me, the most popular, or simply the first one I see) I stick with it, hard. All future thoughts about that media run through the certain interpretation filter only, which isn’t y’know the most open mindset I’ll admit lmao. I think what was different about genloss was a combination of me being a genlosser from the very beginning, being share my theories publicly for the first time, and probably the biggest reason, I didn’t believe the most popular interpretation.

I’ve always been an OUR CHOICE DOESNT MATTER believer since the beginning and could never get on the content creator exploitation train before it left the station. So I guess it gave me a different perspective in regards to reading and sharing analysis posts. Somehow both more critical and more understanding, like I could tell you how the dehumanizing cc theory only applies to eps 2 and 3, while acknowledging that the end of ep 3 literally had a choice that supposedly did matter so who tf cares we’re all having fun. And then I wondered if the cc interpretation was the most popular one and now we’re here.

And so far, it turns out that yeah it very much is lol. But all the notes going into detail about why they believe what they believe just gave me so much more insight and appreciation for the theory. Not just that one but all other interpretations, timeloops, capitalism allegories, your social media parallels just to name a few, have grown a special place in my heart in a way that hasn’t happened to me before genloss. Idk it’s just very cool and I love hearing ‘em all.

Also so I can be told very obvious things I haven’t noticed before. Like how am I just now understanding Social Media -> Showfall Media pfffff

[sloshed-cinema]

The Piano (1993)

The gothic romance, it would appear, has an uncanny valley. Shipped off by her family from rainy Scotland to muddy and rainy New Zealand, Ada McGrath is forced into the arms of her arranged husband Alisdair Stewart. Finding herself in a strange land with her young daughter Flora, Ada is forced to deal with harsh terrain and unfamiliar people, all while needing to communicate through either her daughter’s fiery translation of her sign language, written notes, or rigid and firm body language. She cannot speak, expressing herself instead through her piano playing, and she is stuck between two men. Alisdair is controlling and distant, and local handyman George Baines is coarse and blunt. Both men desire her, and she wants none of them. In its unfolding, The Piano manages to fall directly into the gulf between romance which is transgressive and charged, and that which is intended to be such but just comes across as creepy. Alisdair expects that his chosen spouse perform her duties because that’s her role and generally skulks around; not much needs to be said of him for that part. He is the patriarch incarnate. But George, in his game of exchanging sexual favors for the 88 keys of the piano that he’s holding hostage in a bid to garner her favor, is no better. The relationship blossoming between them seems to be prodded along because the film desires it to go in a direction rather than it happening in an organic sense, coercive that it is. That’s not to say it’s not without wit: writer-director Jane Campion finds indulgence within this, having George finger a hole in Ada’s stocking in an obvious innuendo, and later matching the handyman going down on the landowner’s wife to said landowner peeping in while having his hand eaten out by the family dog. Cue the train entering the tunnel. But the relationship between George and Ada isn’t love borne out of shared suffering, it’s some variation on Stockholm Syndrome. Ada’s position is unenviable, and the film leans into that, but it’s hard to buy that in the grander scheme of things. It just comes off as another case when I have to walk away scratching my head and wondering why movies seem to find these dynamics so sexually interesting. This has all of the trappings of a Wuthering Heights type situation but in its execution cannot balance transgression with coercion.

But perhaps this viewing was colored by my aversion to films that feel the need to hammer in the messaging or symbolism of their narrative. This is more Nathaniel Hawthorne than Haruki Murakami. Early on, we establish that the piano is Ada’s voice in the world. Indeed, her playing is anachronistic in its lyricism and fluidity, commingling freely with composer Michael Nyman’s lyrical and flowing score. People notice and comment on this. But needing to draw attention to something which is already clear is the least of the worries of the film. Throughout, conscious parallels are drawn in the most achingly obvious manner: the church pageant features a pantomime of the Bluebeard tale, a jealous man beheading his wives with an axe. Cue Alisdair with an axe. Ada removes a key from her precious piano, intended as a gift and love-affirmation to George, but it is intercepted by the vengeful Alisdair. By chopping off Ada’s index finger, he deprives her of her pre-stated voice. All of this would be fine, but for the fact that a play within a film literally tells you an idea you’re supposed to pay attention to, and the finger-severing is commented on obliquely when a Māori worker notes that the separated key no longer has a voice. All of this would be poetic but for how sweatily intentional is the presentation of it all. When the parallels are clear by implication, it starts to feel insulting when they get pointed to time and again by characters within the film. To that end, the conclusion of the film feels a little mixed: Ada finds a new life with George, and yet comments on her soul through her piano still binding her to its watery grave. Well, which is it gonna be, Jane? Just drown your character and put this to its watery grave, as you said you wanted to do so later.

The handling of the Māori was… not great. They’re present within the world of the film, as would make sense for the time period of the story. But at no point does the film look their way and think about the effects of colonialism inflicted on these people. Instead, they are largely presented as simpletons who cannot understand theatre effects but are useful when it comes to rowing canoes or carrying cargo.

All said, the ratio of loss from piano keys to human fingers isn’t exactly equivalent. SUCK IT, METAPHOR!!!

THE RULES

SIP

Someone uses a synonym for 'silent'.

Ada starts to play piano.

Close-up of piano hammers.

BIG DRINK

Flora tells a lie.

A number of keys is named in the piano ownership bargain.

Obscene amounts of mud.

[verynormalaboutkinnporsche]

E2 Scenes 4-10 Introduction Montage

Introducing the Coffee Machine

We begin a montage of short scenes here. Porsche's desperate need for a steadying cigarette is foiled in turn by a kitchen employee, a trash fire, and the sprinkler system, but at least he's managed to annoy Kinn again!

What we learned:

No smoking in the house?

E2 Scene 5 - Introducing the Carp Pond

As punishment for scene 4, Porsche gets extra pushups with Chan. Porsche's desperate need for a bathroom is met by a handy pond amid the landscaping.

What we learned:

Porsche can do 300 pushups (barely)

E2 Scene 6 - Introducing the Business

Porsche's employee orientation continues. He takes a nap. Chan is not amused.

What we learned (and Porsche did not):

Somebody in this vast criminal enterprise is responsible for making training videos

The main family concentrates on classy crime areas like luxury cars and high-end real estate

E2 Scene 7 - Introducing Escape Training

Porsche gets one of his first tests. He manages not to drown, barely.

What we learned:

If you are taken hostage, tied up, and thrown in the river, you have three minutes to escape before you drown

Ken is a jerk

E2 Scene 8 - Introducing Guns

Porsche tries out on the firing range and has an unsatisfying meal with his roommate, who comes across as both kind and brainwashed.

What we learned:

Porsche has never touched a gun in his life

The level of control here goes down to individual diets

E2 Scene 9 - Introducing Tankhun (and Arm and Pol)

Khun descends from the family floors to the bodyguard level like an avenging angel, looking for whoever killed his carp by peeing in their pond. Khun is the only spot of color in this monochrome world. His wrath is delayed, not denied by the start of the Miss Universe Pageant.

What we learned:

There are surveillance cameras everywhere

E2 Scene 10 - Porsche's Test Scores

Chan and Kinn review Porsche's performance to date. Kinn is not displeased to have an excuse to get rid of him, but Korn has said to give him more time.

Kinn resigns himself to putting up with Porsche until Big is recovered.

What we learned:

Kinn and Korn continue to disagree on this topic; Korn has his way

[hezzabeth]

In the year 3856 AD Christmas is an ancient festival practiced only on a few colonies. Santafest however is an incredibly popular secular holiday celebrated throughout the solar system. Santafest involves a lot of futuristic bastardized versions of Santa traditions.

These include of course.

- Secret Santa. A practice where everyone is assigned one random person in their local town or city to give a gift to.

- Traditional “Santa” foods such as spaghetti with maple syrup.

- Parades and markets.

- The hostage re enactment play. Every year a local is chosen to play the role of a historical hero who rescued a group of people from a terrorist in a skyscraper. At the end of the pageant the actor changes into Santa and gives gifts to children.

The actual Santafest “Santa” changes from each moon and Space station. Revati was raised for example by a Hindu father and an Athiest mother. Her friend and assistant tried to explain Santafest to her but she found if deeply confusing.

[globalbuzz]

Alan Arkin: The Kominsky Method Actor Dies Aged 89

Veteran US actor Alan Arkin, known for his role as the outrageous grandad in the film "Little Miss Sunshine," has passed away at the age of 89. Arkin, who received an Oscar and a Bafta for his performance in the movie, had a career that spanned seven decades in both screen and stage productions. His sons, Adam, Matthew, and Anthony, confirmed his death in a family statement released on Friday. Describing their father as a uniquely talented force of nature, both as an artist and as a person, the statement expressed the deep love and admiration they had for him. Arkin was not only a beloved husband, father, grandfather, and great-grandfather but also an exceptional artist who left a lasting impact on the entertainment industry.

Alan Arkin won the Oscar 4 times in his career In addition to his film roles, Arkin lent his voice to the character of JD Salinger in the Netflix animated series "BoJack Horseman" from 2015 to 2016. Paul Reiser, Arkin's co-star in the Netflix show "The Kominsky Method," shared his grief on Twitter, mentioning that a world without Alan Arkin would not be so great. He reminisced about the first time he saw Arkin on screen and how getting to know him and making him laugh was a highlight of his life. Michael McKean, known for his role in "Spinal Tap," also paid tribute to Arkin, considering him a hero and a friend. He shared an anecdote from his early acting days when people questioned whether he wanted to be a serious or funny actor. McKean would respond by asking, "Which kind is Alan Arkin?" because Arkin's talent and versatility defied categorization. McKean described Arkin as charming, hilarious, and possessing an impeccable sense of detecting nonsense, making it a pleasure to be around him. Arkin's career extended beyond acting, as he ventured into directing early on and received a Tony nomination in 1973 for his work on the play "The Sunshine Boys." However, it was his performance in the 2006 film "Little Miss Sunshine" that brought him widespread acclaim and recognition. Playing the role of Edwin Hoover, the foul-mouthed grandfather, Arkin's portrayal earned him an Oscar and Bafta for Best Supporting Actor. The tragicomedy revolved around a dysfunctional family taking their youngest member to participate in a child beauty pageant, and Arkin's character became a memorable part of the film. While Arkin received critical acclaim for his work, he never let the buzz and talk surrounding him affect him. In his memoir, "Out of My Mind," published in 2018, he revealed his struggle with misery despite his earlier success. He shared how he found solace through meditation and turned his personal life around. Acting had been his lifeline, providing him with a sense of existence and purpose on stage. Throughout his career, Arkin showcased his talent in various roles, including his portrayal of Lester Siegel, a pretend Hollywood producer, in Ben Affleck's 2012 historical drama "Argo." The film depicted the Iran hostage crisis and the daring plan to rescue the captive embassy employees by creating a fake film. Arkin also appeared in adaptations like Mike Nichols' film version of Joseph Heller's satirical novel "Catch-22" and received Emmy Award nominations for his television work, including shows like "Escape from Sobibor," "The Pentagon Papers," and "The Kominsky Method." Arkin's contributions to the entertainment industry were recognized with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in 2019, honoring his remarkable career and enduring legacy. Read the full article

[shop-korea]

BRICKELL - CITY - CENTRE

HAITI - OPEN - CARRY - YES

ALLIED - UNIVERSAL - MEN

SECURITY - FLORIDA - BOTH

MIAMI - POLICE - AND TRUE

BRICKELL - CALLING THEIR

OUTDOOR - MALL $1 BILLION

PRIVATE - BUSINESS - 2 - DO

DISCRIMINATION - OF RACE

POLITICIANS - MADE - THIS

LAW - LENGTHY - CAN'T

FIND - PUNISHMENT TO

SURRENDER - 2 - HARVARD

LAW - AT - OVER - $500 PER

HOUR POLICE - POLITICIANS

LAUGH - WE - HAVE - 2 - PAY

THEIR - FEES - AS - THEY FL

MAKE - MIAMI - MIN - WAGE

$1, 600 - MONTHLY - SO YOU

CAN - SEE LIVE - BLK MALES

SHOOT - 2 - DEATH

XXXTENCATION

TODAY - 2 - BLKS - FEMALES

ATTACKED - ME - AS - WE YES

DISAPPEAR - MAIN LIBRARY

MUSEUM - 1 DAY - IN - 1 SEC

HARVARD - LAW

US TREASURY

IRS

OLD - HISPANIC - MALE

MOPPING - TILES - AS - I

SAW DRYNESS - PLACED

LUGGAGE - FAVORITE FL

SPOT - LIGHT - SKINNED

BLK - FEMALE - AND THE

BLK - WOMAN - WHO YES

WANTED - MY - TABLET 2

COMMUNICATE - WITH

HER - SPOUSE - PRISON

AMAZON - FIRE HD

LOW - MBPS - OLD

S SERIES SAMSUNG

COULDN'T - DO - IT

SHE - OFFERED - MONEY

SAID - FREE - SHE - ALSO

ATTACKED - BOTH - OF

THEM - SAID - BEEN FL

THERE - SINCE - 7:30A

SPANISH - NICE JEANS

FILLS - JEANS - HER ID

SHOWING - I TOLD HER

TELL - HER - 2 - GO BEHIND

YOU - LUST 4 HISPANIC SAW

COMPLETE - LUST - EMPTY

AREA - TOLD - THEM - 2 GO

FRONT - OF - ME - TOLD ME

AGAIN - BEHIND - HER - AS

BLK FEMALES - FILLED UP

EMPTY - FRONT - SLIDING

DOOR - BLK MALE - WENT

FRONT - B4 - THAT - SAW

HAITI - BLK MALE SECURITY

TOLD HIM - DISCRIMINATION

OF - RACE - CRIMINAL TRUE

RECORD - WE - WERE - JUST

CHATTING - HAITI - PACIFIES

MIAMI - POLICE - ENTERED

WENT - INSIDE - OTHER - FL

MALE - SAID - 'SECURITY' - I

ALREADY SHARED - FOREIGN

BLACK - JAMAICAN - 'MAN' -

WE - ALL - GIGGLED - MIAMI -

POLICE - 'NEXT - TIME' - ME -

NODDED - CERTAIN - HE NO -

KNOWLEDGE - 'FINES' - FOR -

DISCRIMINATION - RACE

TOLD - WHITE - MALE -

STOCKS - BOOKS - HE -

DIDN'T - KNOW - WHAT -

2 - DO - 'PAUL BLART:

MALL COP' - PEOPLE

EASY - 2 - HOSTAGE

FUTURE - KOREAN GIRLS

PULSE BLKS - HISPANICS

NO - TONGUES - ACTIVATING

MAIN - LIBRARY - BRINGING 2

HEAVEN - BLK - PERSONS

BORN IN - UNITED STATES

ATTACKED - ASIAN - GIRL

SMALL - EYES

SMALL - BREASTS

HIGH - GRADES

BLK - WOMAN - WHO

ATTACKED - ME - PREGNANT

LONG - BLK - GOWN - NO BRA

LOBBY - FILLED - WITH BLKS

TOKYO - JAPAN - MALE

SCIENTIST - HELP US FL

DISAPPEAR - NO 1 & 2 -

CRIMINALS OF WORLD

OUR - NEW - BOOKSTORE

NEW - LOUVRE - MUSEUM

24/7 - HOLIDAYS

FREE - FREE - ENTRY

DISAPPEARING - BLKS

HISPANICS - WHO ARE

UNITING IN - MIAMI FL

UPGRADE

HDG - APP - ALL AGES

SAY - 'I'M NOT MARRYING

BLK' - 500 BILLION - X 5

DAILY - TAX - PAID

NEW - FORMER - SPANISH

EMPIRE - BURNT - 500 OF

OUR - FAMILIES - IN THEIR

HOUSES - ADD -

HDG - APP - FREE

'I'M - NOT - MARRYING

THE - SPANISH'

500 BILLION X 5 DAILY

WE - ARE - SUPPLYING

TONGUES - SING TONGUES

DAILY - MANY - WAYS - 2 XO

RECEIVE - ADD -

LEAVE - USA - $500 BILLION

X 5 - DAILY - NEW - UPGRADE

DON'T - ENTER - USA

500 BILLION - X5 - DAILY

BIBLE - 'MONEY - ANSWERS

EVERYTHING' - WON'T - LINE

UP - ANYMORE - STAYING - IN

GOING - UP - HALLWAY FROM

GROUND - UNTIL - 9:30A

THEN - I GO UP - SO - ALL

BLKS - HISPANICS - WHITE

HOBOS - HOMELESS HAVE

ALREADY - ENTERED - 2ND

FLOOR - SURROUNDED - BY

BOOKS - L SIDE - EMPTY -

A - LOT - HAVE - LOTS OF -

TIME 2 - GET - NEW DESK -

BLKS - DESPISE - ASIANS' -

WHITE SKIN - HIGH GRADE -

OLYMPICS - MISS UNIVERSE -

BLK - COMOETITIONS

COUNTRIES - SKIP

MISS UNIVERSE

OLYMPICS

500 BILLION - X - 250

PER - MONTH LEADING

UP 2 - DON'T - FEAR

PHILIPPINE REPUBLIC

TAX & RELIGION - FREE

SMOKELESS - NO WHISKEY

HOSTING - WORLD SPORTS

EASIER - SIMPLER

HOSTING - BEAUTY - WITH

SINGING - PAGEANTS

TIME - 2 - FIGHT

BLKS - AND - SPANISH

JESUS - IS - LORD

STAYING - AWAY - FROM

ENTRANCE - MAIN LIBRARY

STAYING - L SIDE - HALLWAY

LEAVING - 9:30A - LUGGAGE

MAKES - IT - HARDER - SO IT

IS TIME - MIAMI - LAID BACK

DEADLY - HURRICANES

01 JUN - 30 NOV - NICE

[musicmakesyousmart]

Zebra Mu / Hostage Pageant

Quagga Curious Sounds

2010

[fluidsf]

Project Axis 02

Hostage Pageant: Shielding

Release Year: 2019

Label: Dead Gods

Catalogue number: GODS 35

Reviewed Format: C20 tape

Welcome to Project Axis 02 in which today I’m featuring this 2019 C20 tape by American Harsh Noise artist Hostage Pageant titled Shielding, which was released on the tape label Dead Gods. Hostage Pageant (Shane Church) is not an unfamiliar name to me, but this tape is the first time I’m actually digging into his works for a review and discovering his particular style of heavy Noise as well as how he approaches progression in his pieces and what struck me in particular of Hostage Pageant’s sound is his excellent combination of raw murky and quite low-frequency laden continuous streams of Noise and quite a lot of intriguing elements of change and sonic details within the muddy but very enjoyable two tracks that are spread over the A and B sides of this tape. The short format of Shielding also works quite well as a way of showcasing two different long form pieces of Noise which are noticeably connected with each other and have a great focussed sound making for a tape release that doesn’t last in terms of playing time but does leave you with a very on point impression of rich relentless layered Noise pieces that aren’t just harsh but also very well performed and varied enough to keep your attention. Hostage Pageant’s discography features a variety of mostly tape releases in this short format (though he has released more full-length releases) too on various labels like Rainbow Bridge, Fusty Cunt, Monorail Trespassing, A Dear Girl Called Wendy as well as various self-released titles with Shielding being probably the most recent one of his 2019 releases. Looking at the presentation of the tape first, I found that it’s actually a quite elegant kind of artwork for a Noise release of this murky raw nature. The cover picture photo collage is indeed a quite fitting kind of grainy sepia type of lo-fi image which seems to express both tracks through the division of the photo of the crime scene photo with police cars at the top and photo detail of a wooden structure of a building at the bottom. Whilst not quite as I imagined the imagery connected to the two pieces themselves, especially the wooden structure gives a good idea of the mechanical and rough aspect of the sound of this tape. On the spin of the J-card you can then find the element of elegant artwork I mentioned. It’s a very nice kind of knitted pattern of diagonal curls locking into each other, though still carrying a nice grainy look. It’s not necessarily very representative of the sound of Shielding but a nice extra nonetheless. The short side of the J-card on the back shows the equally elegant Dead God label logo and address info white on black. The tape itself mirrors the quite festive elegant artwork of the inside of the J-card when unfolded in grey scale as an A-side marker sticker with the B-side being unmarked. The J-card shows the artist name, release title, track titles and catalogue number white on black when folded and reveals the same grey-scale artwork featuring a nice composition of abstract curled lines and shapes from the tape sticker when folded out which adds a nice creative touch to the artwork and is quite pretty on the physical printed format really.

Now let’s move onto the two Noise pieces featured on Shielding themselves. Starting with side A which features the track Incapable. This piece immediately introduces the raw, relentless murky and quite low-pitched sound of Hostage Pageant’s Noise on Shielding through a 10 minute stream of what feels like the experience and sounds of travelling by train turned into a Noise piece. Low rumble within its base, a constant hollow resonance seem to resemble a heavily distorted version of the screechy harsh sounds of steel train wheels, abrasively wheezing brakes as well as the rumbling mechanics of the train drowned and blended into the mass of Noise Hostage Pageant has created on this piece. Incapable features a very continuous style of Noise which never decreases in intensity but keeps flowing in its scattered stream at time being interrupted by these very sweet sounding Noise “breaks” as the heavily distorted sound quickly disrupts its stream with abrupt explosions. In terms of structure Incapable starts off as a solid continuous “block” of abrasive Noise but after some time Hostage Pageant starts to create variations with the stream through various manipulations, new elements and at times moments of fierce eruptions of sound throwing on some more oil on the Noise fire. Even though Hostage Pageant’s style on this tape is very dense and muddy it’s especially great how he brings out these little details within the stream like distorted muffled fragments of voice and heavily distorted “tonal” fragments which sound like alarms adding tension to the mass of sound. Furthermore there’s exciting “spiky” sounds that occur later on in the piece as well as some tasty screechy sonic manipulations. But while indeed both tracks on Shielding are full on blasting Noise throughout I can’t help but also feeling this odd but recognisable kind of relaxing aspect about especially Incapable. The train like continuity, harshness, metallic abstraction has an effect that I find particularly comforting especially because I like those sounds personally. This perception obviously varies per person but I do believe there are calming effects that can be created by even the harshest forms of Noise and Industrial and I feel that’s quite a quality to get this vibe from such monolithic clouds of completely dissonant sound. On the B-side Hostage Pageant starts off Predetermined Outcome with a very similar sound to Incapable but fear not, as things quickly derail at the beginning of the piece with a very aggressive and “cut” like style of rapidly varying Noise manipulations making for an interesting mixture of some of the murky edge of Incapable with sound collage like jump-cuts within the Noise. There’s more of a crumbling rough crunch to this piece however and less of an emphasis on a resonant hollow sonic edge. Predetermined Outcome has a more Industrial sound to it with whirring, wheezing and hissy sounds throughout the piece, also resembling the swishing sound of the early stages of magnetic tape decay. Machinery, electrical like sounds add kinetic tumbling sounds to the Noise and feedback also makes a welcome entry in the beginning with some great short sections of quite clean “feedback solo”s seemingly popping in and out of the Noise. After the jumpy beginning Predetermined Outcome morphs into a kind of rain shower made out of Noise after some time. You can imagine this as being raindrops made out of rough Noise particles falling from the sky in a rough interference like rhythmic manner, very dirty sounds but less chaotic than the beginning part. It adds a great imaginative new element to the piece while keeping the fire burning. The last part of Predetermined Outcome then settles the rain shower into a more laid-back kind of Noise stream, like a river blurring out the rhythms. Tonal elements also enter the distorted mass which create increasing tension to the piece until the stream ends in a fade out to conclude this short but excellent tape. Definitely a great kind of cliffhanger to end with, leaving space to dig into a next Hostage Pageant release and I will definitely review more of Hostage Pageant releases in the coming months.

To conclude this Project Axis review, Hostage Pageant has delivered some excellent Noise on Shielding’s two 10 minutes tracks. The richness of textures, constant sonic energy, relentless fire and well performed progression and varied sonic manipulations make the tape a great release to blast into your listening space or dive into the curious hidden details within the Noise streams. Hostage Pageant’s style on this tape goes to show that there’s plenty of cool inspiring material to be found in these Noise works besides the loud physical experience and these works can have a quite mind-altering experience too. This is definitely a great recommended release for fans of (Harsh) Noise and abstract experimental music as well as listeners looking for Noise that’s both in your face but also varied in sound throughout, making for a great listening experience on repeated listens. Go check this out for sure!

I purchased this tape from WHITE CENTIPEDE NOISE where it's sold out by now unfortunately. It's advisable to check out Discogs or other Noise mail order stores to pick up a copy.