#I LOVE WIFE GUY MEN AND DRAMATIC MEN AND MEN WHO ARE FULL OF THEMSELVES | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

themonkeycabal · 4 years

Text

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Episode 1 SPOILERS

If you need to blacklist, I will be tagging all things as #tfatws and/or #tfatws spoilers

My roommate keeps calling this The Falcon and the Snowman. I'm not entirely sure it's accidental.

I was going to watch at midnight and then fell asleep. Betrayal. I will not forgive this, brain.

Bucky Barnes character development. Sam Wilson character development. Six full episodes of Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson. When we watched Civil War, did we think we'd actually be lucky enough to get a buddy idiot cop movie? Let alone six hours of it? #blessed

What are we expecting here? I have no idea, honestly. I think all the clips we've been seeing are from the first couple episodes, so they've hidden any sort of plot from us. We know Baron Zemo's around with his stupid purple ski mask and burning hatred for superheroes and probably specifically for Bucky who he tried (and honestly kind of succeeded, before then ultimately failing dramatically) to set up. And Sharon Carter will turn up at some point. OMG guys, Sharon Carter character development!

I'm just here for the buddy bickering and badassery.

SPOILERS BELOW

New World Order: Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes realize that their futures are anything but normal. *Realize*? lol

Also, it's tagged as "science fiction, action-adventure, buddy" Awww.

Aww, Sam looks sad as he gazes at The Shield.

"How's it feel?" "Like it's someone else's." "It isn't."

That's right, Sam! Listen to that voice. That's yours now, baby.

We're just going to roll right into a mission. Rescuing a Captain Vassant, whose plane fell out of contact shortly after take off, from the ridiculously named group LAF, somewhere over Tunisia. Sam's got to keep LAF from doing bad things and the US Military can't be seen doing anything blah blah blah, violation of treaties, yada yada. And Sam's all "blah blah got it". We're on the same page, Sam and me. Nobody wants to hear it, Briefing Exposition Guy.

We will have a Lt. Torres on the ground following along and offering helpful commentary as they go.

Sam is warned to be subtle as he falls backwards out of the cargo plane in very dramatic fashion and then swoops off on his brightly colored wings. lol

Sam gets to the captain's plane but the pilot is dead and a shady LAF guy is piloting. Oh no. Hey, it's Batroc. Last seen getting his ass kicked by Captain America in "CA: The Winter Soldier". He makes some jokes about their prisoner - presumably Captain Vassant. Awful cocky for a guy with a history of getting stomped on, you know.

Anyway, he's about to get his ass kicked by a Captain America again as Sam breaks into the plane. You might just be using wing shields now, Sam, but you're Captain America in my heart. Also, hey, dumb bad guys, don't open fire with an automatic weapon inside a plane or the ricochets might kill your pilot. And his body will slump forward and put the plane into a steep dive.

Batroc distracts Sam while the bad guys gather up Vassant and jump out of the plane with him. They have wingsuits, but Sam has, you know, wings. And like a jet pack. Don't hit the canyon walls, Sam!

Somehow the bad guys have waiting gunships. Did they expect to jump out of the plane over this canyon? I can only assume. Red Wing takes care of one of the helicopters. Man these guys are a pain in the ass. They wing suit into one of the many many helicopters that just happen to be right in the right spot. They're racing for the Libyan border. Then Sam shows up, they throw Vassant out the copter again — this guy is having the worst day — and glide into another chopper.

Man ANOTHER gunship? The hell? They're causing serious ecological damage to this canyon, what with all the zillionty missiles they're firing at Sam. How strapped is this thing?

LT Torres is trying to keep up, and you know, trying to get Sam to not fly into Libyan territory and cause an international incident or some such. Sam is struck by inspiration and not by a missile. But, the missiles are following Sam and Sam is following Batroc's chopper. Sam zooms through the open doors of the chopper, knocks poor Vassant out of the chopper AGAIN (but then catches him), and LAF blows up their own helicopter. Alas, Batroc escaped.

Sam saves the day and LT Torres is like super excited. Don't break your humvee, Torres.

Torres and Sam stop by a tea shop in Tunis, or somewhere. Sam's trying to fix his tech that got a little shot up and Torres buys the tea. A man comes up and thanks Sam for saving his wife. It's sweet. And then Torres gets up and wanders about a bit with his phone as he exposits about LAF. Is Torres about to become a pin cushion? Only instead of pins it'll be bullets? I'm not feeling good about his continued health. He's too cute and earnest.

Oh, he's looking for some sort of hidden, augmented reality tag on the walls. A red handprint, id'ing some group that calls themselves the Flag Smashers. Bad guys are really scraping the bottom of the evil name barrel. Anyway, they think the world was better during the blip. Nothing says better like mass failure of infrastructure and probably world wide famine. They want a unified world without borders. I have big doubts the world would be a borderless utopia during a blip-like event. Power vacuums invite trouble, seldom unity.

Anyhoo. Sam kind of agrees with me, "every time something gets better for one group, it gets worse for another".

Torres will track the 'online chatter'. But he's also heard some wacky things about Steve Rogers, conspiracy theory stuff, "they think that he's in a secret base on the moon, looking down over us". LOL. What? Is Steve a moon angel now? or Santa Claus? "You didn't like fly him to the moon?" Sam assures him that's all very much silly foolishness. Steve's in Boca working on his tan.

Sam's back in D.C. giving a talk about Steve at the Smithsonian's National Air & Space museum. "And he mastered posing stoically". Hey, I have that picture. Also, RHODEY! Hi Rhodey!

"A few months ago, billions of people reappeared after 5 years away. Sending the world into turmoil." Again. I know this was meant to come out before WandaVision, but timeline-wise this works better.

"We need new heroes. Ones suited for the times we're in. Symbols are nothing without the women and men that give them meaning." Sam holds up The Shield. "I don't know if there's been a greater symbol." Aww, he's retiring the shield. He hands it off to museum people and they put it in a display case. I think Rhodey has some thoughts about this. I suspect Rhodey maybe doesn't agree.

Sam and Rhodey wander through the Cap exhibit and Sam's talking about how when he left (or got snapped, it's not like you had a choice about that, Sam), his nephews were babies and now they're little men. Awww. Rhodey says Sam should bring them to D.C., he'll teach them how to fly, "the right way". lol.

Rhodey says it's crazy to think nobody will be carrying the shield. Sam points out they went 70 years without, so like …

Rhodey wants to know why Sam didn't take up the mantle. BTW, this is a cool exhibit, marvel peeps. Sam says it feels like it belongs to someone else … Steve. Rhodey says everything's broken. Allies are enemies, things are torn apart. People are looking for somebody to make it better. Having made his pitch, Rhodey leaves Sam to stare mournfully at the shield. I think you're afraid to pick up the shield, Sam. Afraid you won't measure up. But, you can do it. I have faith. Also, Steve was kind of a disaster in his own way. He wasn't perfect, which was the point of Steve as a hero. Pick up the shield, Sam.

A fancy hotel, chatting people in the lobby, up to a mezzanine, a group of very Russian oligarch looking dudes and their security. And lo! A metal arm punches through a wall and the Winter Soldier, looking very Winter Soldiery appears and stabs some dudes in the neck. This has a sepia, dream/nightmareness to it. Oh yeah, it's his old shiny silver arm. Totally a nightmare/very bad memory. "Hail Hydra" and he kills the head Russian guy. The poor dude who was just chatting in the lobby is caught trying to get into his door. He swears he didn't see anything, begs for his life and the Winter Soldier shoots him. Bucky wakes up, breathing heavily. Poor Bucky.

Glad he's in therapy. I'm sure goat herding in Wakanda was good and peaceful and all, but, goats will only get you so far. Also glad we've skipped the "wanted terrorist" part and gone on to traumatized hero.

I get the feeling he's not the best patient. He lies to his therapist straight off. Twice. lol. "You're a civilian now. With your history the government needs to know, you're not gonna … [therapist makes stabby motion]." lol (I love this actress by the way. She's been in everything for ages. She's great). "It's a condition of your pardon. So tell me about your most recent nightmare." "I didn't have a nightmare." She starts writing, Bucky objects and tells her she's being passive-aggressive, but he gives in.

He has a list of amends to make and three rules to follow. He crossed a name off. There's a Hydra pawn who's a senator, he helped her get into office. "After Hydra disbanded, she continued to use the power I gave her." Hmm. He tracks her car and listens in on her plotting to have a congressman killed.

* Rule number one: Can't do anything illegal.

He's hijacked the Senator's car and is remote controlling it, making it drive all out of control and freaking her out. He says he was collecting intel to give to an aide to convict her. Absolutely only did that. Not one illegal thing about that at all, no ma'am.

"Rule number two?" "Hmm. What was rule number two?" "Nobody gets hurt. It's a big one." "Then why isn't it rule number one?" Oh, Bucky, you're a jackass.

* Rule number two: Nobody gets hurt.

"I didn't hurt anybody. Promise." He totally broke a dude's hand and then punched him in the face, knocking him out. I mean, there's levels of 'hurt' I suppose.

"The whole point of making amends is to fulfill rule number three." "Of course I completed rule number three."

* Rule number three: "I am no longer the Winter Soldier. I am James 'Bucky' Barnes. And you're part of my efforts to make amends." He says to the corrupt senator he's just been terrifying. And then he walks away as a tac team pulls up. lol.

What I'm getting from this therapy session is that Bucky is a big fat fibber.

Also he's got a little black book full of names. Including, I see, H. Zemo. That's not going to go as smoothly as taking down a shady government fatcat, I think.

"So you did it all right, but it didn't help with the nightmares?" "Well, like I said, I didn't have any." Fibber.

People wanna help you Bucky and you can trust them. "I trust people," he mutters grumpily. She asks for his phone and he hands it over. Look, lady! Trust! Probably government mandated trust, but still!

"You don't have ten phone numbers on this thing." … I don't have ten phone numbers on my phone. :( "Oh, and you've been ignoring texts from Sam." Well …

"I am the only person you have called all week. That is so sad." lol. Tough love from the therapist. I'm feeling a little judged myself, though. "You're alone." ALRIGHT DON'T RUB IT IN!

"You're a hundred years old. You have no history. No family—" "Are you lashing out at me, doc? Because that's really unprofessional." I love you Bucky, but you are a disaster patient.

Bucky relents. "I'm trying. This is new for me. I didn't have a moment to deal with anything. I had a little calm in Wakanda. And other than that, I just went from one fight to another for 90 years." Get this man a goat farm!

"So now that you've stopped fighting, what do you want?" "Peace." A goat farm. "That is utter bullshit." lol "You're a terrible shrink." "I was an excellent soldier, so I saw a lot of dead bodies and I know how that can shut you down. And if you are alone, that is the quietest, most personal hell." Get some friends, Bucky. "I know you've been through a lot. But, you've got your mind back. You're being pardoned. These are good things. You're free." "To do what?"

On the streets of Brooklyn. Bucky breaks up an argument between neighbors about trashcans. Hey, Bucky has a friend! Yori Nakajima who's probably like 80+. Did you babysit him back in the day, Buck? har har. They were going to meet for lunch, but some punk named Unique was putting his trash into Mr. Nakajima's trash can and just derailed the whole day. The horror. No joke, though, people get so nutted up about that. It's weird to me. Of course, I did also have a neighbor who never put out his trash for pickup and just snuck out at night before trash day and distributed his garbage into in other people's bins. Cheapass.

"Hey man, I'm Unique. Like Monique but it's got a 'u' in there for uniqueness." Yeah, you should have let Yori smack him, Buck.

Well now Yori is just not in the mood for lunch. Bucky tries to persuade him, but one grumpy old man out grumps the other. "But Izzy. We always go to Izzy on Wednesday. What if I buy?" "Fine. But no talking." lol. BFFs!

Yori is looking at the obituaries. "Look, nobody made it past 90 this week." Bucky tsks "So young, such a shame."

Bucky kind of smiles at the girl behind the counter at the sushi joint, Yori tells him he should ask her out. Bucky makes a "are you nuts, shut up" face. That doesn't stop Yori. "He would like to take you out on a date. Maybe to bingo or a night of pinochle." You're a wild man, Yori!

She's down by it, though, and she and Yori hammer out the details while Bucky's like uh, okay, so wow, that's happening. "There's a dance to these things. You can't … you gotta warm up and I haven't danced since 1943."

Yori sees something and suddenly gets sad. His son loves red bean mochi. His son was a consultant, working abroad and he was killed. Oh. Oh Bucky, why you gotta … Yori's son was the innocent witness he killed at the hotel in his nightmare/memory. "I will never know what really happened to him." Brutal.

Delacroix, Louisana

Sam's on his way home. Wilson Family Seafood. Aww. His nephews are helping mom with the catch. "Blue for the snapper, orange for the white fish," Sam calls out. The boys run over to him. They do look like fine gentlemen. It's weird, Sam, I get it. I recently realized my oldest nephew will be 13 in May and it's like "no, he's only in kindergarten, what are you talking about?"

His sister greets him then tells him he's looking all sneaky. Sam deflects. Their boat has seen better days. The Paul & Darlene. Aww. Is that his parents names? "Baby being held together by duct tape and prayers." Just needs to float long enough for his sister to sell it. But Sam's all, uh I thought we were going to *discuss* that. Uh oh, family drama. "We did, and then you were off fighting Dr Space Cape or whatever (lol), while I was holding it together for five long years." Ouch.

Sam is not down by this selling the boat thing. His sister doesn't seem to think they're in a position to hold on to it. Also, she'd really like to not hash this out on the pier with like twenty other people around, Sam.

They get into more of an argument on the boat. The family biz is not doing well financially. Sarah won't let Sam help for some reason, and he makes some comment about the house and loans and she punches him in the chest. lol "I forgot how hard you hit."

Sam insists they can turn it around, consolidate loans. And she's all, been there done that, I've come to terms with this. He's a persistent little jerk. This is such a perfectly sibling argument. Notably he has moved himself out of punching range.

Aww, she wants to believe he can save the boat, but she has DOUBTS.

Back in Brooklyn. Bucky attempts his date. He turns up at the end of the sushi girl's shift and gives her flowers. "Well, if that's not the most adorably old-fashioned thing anyone's ever done."

They chat while she tidies. He tried online dating oh lol. It didn't take. She tells him "You sound like my dad. Wait how old are you?" "Hundred and six." Oh yeah, what a funny joke. Next she wants to know why he's wearing gloves. "I have … um … poor circulation." He grimaces at himself and glances out the window. Smooth as silk, Bucky. Smoooooth.

"Let's play a game." Now, I'm thinking like some weird dating word/get-to-know-each-other game or something. I don't know. But, nope, she means Battleship. lol. I like her.

The drinking game version of battleship. Bucky sucks at it. "You sure can drink." "Yeah, well." Super assassin, unfair advantage.

We're just going to rub in this whole The Winter Soldier killed Yori's son thing, as she says it's nice that he's spending time with the old man. Since he was all messed up after his son was murdered and how it was extra hard because he didn't know what happened. I'm not sure this is healthy, Bucky.

"There's no word for someone whose kids die." Okay, ouch, lady, jeez. Bucky looks like he wants to puke. Or crawl into a deep dark hole. Or something. "Because it's the worst thing that can happen." Bucky nopes right out the front door. So, maybe they should have played pinochle instead.

Bucky goes to Yori. Are you really going to tell this man you murdered his son when you were a brain-washed Hydra assassin? Yori asks how the date was, and Bucky sees a shrine to the man's son in the apartment. Poor Bucky. He makes some excuse about owing Yori for lunch and leaves. Yori's name is in his book of amends. :(

Back in Louisiana. Sam and the kids are packing up meals. His sister maybe wants to sell meals in addition to fish. Sam says they've got to get going to their appointment at the bank. She's says it's in an hour. Sam must be just the worst brother to live with "There's no such thing as on time. You're either early or late. Pick one." Man, no wonder he gets punched.

Switzerland

Lt Torres is walking down a street with an unusually large number of people just sort of milling around in the middle of the street looking at their phones. He's got his kind of hidden, recording. He stops a guy and asks if he knows what they're supposed to be doing. Oh it's the flag munchers, or whatever. There's a weird phony bird whistle and then people gather around a person handing out masks with red handprints on them. His decoy bad guy phone chirps and gives the order to run. A guy jumps out of a nearby building with two huge duffle bags (of money it seems) and walks off while the previously milling people become a seemingly panicked mob, distracting police and whatnot.

Torres tries to arrest the jumper guy, who appears to have some super strength as he kicks a policeman halfway across the street. Torres, you're cute, but not super bright. Torres gets body slammed and then stomped. He survives again, however, defying the odds.

At the bank. The account manager keeps giving Sam the side-eye as he goes through their paperwork. "Do I know you from somewhere." Sam's all modest, "I don't know. Do you?" And then he makes a little wing flappy move with his hands. lol. What a nerd. "Falcon!" Then he takes a selfie with Sam. Sarah is very done with all this. She tries to get them back on track. Account guy wants to know how Avengers make a living. Probably not looking good for your loan, Sam.

"Is there some kind of fund for heroes? Or did Stark pay you when he was around? My condolences, by the way."

Yeah, financially this is looking bad, my dude. "You have no income over the last five years." Well, but, he was blipped. I mean …

Alas, shot down for the loan.

Sam and Sarah argue on the street. Ah, Sam ran off to the Air Force and didn't deal with what was going on at home. Oh my, this is getting ugly. Speaking as someone who got disowned on account of a family business, let me just say, they're not easy. Nuh-uh.

"Half the boat's mine and so is the house. We're not selling our family's legacy." "You gonna do me like what when you know I'm right?"

I get it might be awkward to ask, but I bet you could have asked Pepper for a loan, Sam, and she would have given it to you gladly. Come on, man.

Later. Sam's working on the boat's engine, and it's not cooperating. In the cabin he looks at the family pictures on all the walls. He's having a rough day. About as rough as Torres who texts him to find a secure line and call him along with a selfie of his bruised and battered face. #important (lol, really?)

Sam watches the footage Torres caught and they chat about how Torres was supposed to be doing that stuff online and not getting his face kicked in in Switzerland.

Sarah interrupts and turns on the TV. Some guy is giving a speech about how everybody needs a hero. "We need someone who can inspire us again. Someone who can be a symbol for all of us. So on behalf of the Department of Defense and our Commander-in-Chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero." hmm, no comment. Except, you should have taken up the shield, Sam. Now it's Sam's turn to look like he's going to puke. What did I say about power vacuums? Somebody will fill them, whether you want them to or not.

This new guy looks like a goober. There, I said it.

credits

So … lots of setup. And very clear on the two guys trying to figure out where they fit in this world post blip and big wars. Both of them trying to fix broken families.

Plus a goober in a Cap suit.

So far so good.

#tfatws #tfatws spoilers #the falcon and the winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier spoilers

30 notes · View notes

miracleonice87 · 4 years

Text

Say You Won’t Let Go

a Sidney Crosby wedding series

Part Three

a/n: read part one here and part two here. Part four will be the wedding and probably also the wrap-up! again, please pardon any French errors — relying heavily on Google Translate and my singular conversational French class.

summary: rehearsal dinner with some sweet Sid and Mario.

warnings: mention of deceased father. social alcohol use. otherwise, so damn fluffy it’s practically cotton candy.

_____

The rehearsal had thankfully gone off without a hitch and also without too many further comments from Nate and Mike, our personal peanut gallery. Even Geno, Tanger and Marc behaved themselves, and the kids were all champs. After two full walk-throughs of the ceremony, Sidney and I both felt comfortable enough with the flow to wrap things up and head back to Mario’s place for dinner and drinks with our wedding party and family.

When he and I arrived back at Mario’s, we walked hand in hand through the house and out the back door to the yard, where the tent was set up with all our tables and chairs for tomorrow, flowers and decor only along one long table in the center where our smaller group would be eating tonight. The fairy lights strung through the boxwood bushes lining the yard and also wrapped around the eucalyptus and peonies under the tent gave a soft, dreamy glow to the space. The decorators, under Nathalie’s careful direction, had made my vision come to life and far exceeded my expectations. Our guests themselves seemed to be enchanted by the decor as they pointed out different aspects of the set up, finding their way to their seats.

I stood still on the patio for several seconds in complete awe, my hand falling limp at my side when Sidney moved forward, expecting me to come along with him. He turned back toward me, then looked at the ethereal scene laid out in front of us. He chuckled as he grasped my hand once more.

“I take it you like what they’ve done with the place,” Sidney teased, kissing the side of my head. I simply nodded.

Nathalie emerged from the house just then and wrapped her hands around my shoulders.

“So... what do you think?” she asked, sounding a bit nervous.

“Tantine... (auntie)” I whispered, turning to face her. “This is so perfect. I couldn’t have pictured anything better! Thank you.” I hugged her tightly. She cradled my head as she returned my embrace.

“Oh, sweetheart, you deserve it,” she insisted, pulling back and kissing my cheek. “Only the best for our girl.” We both watched tears well in each others’ eyes as we held hands for a moment, Mario walking behind Nathalie and gently placing his hands on her hips as he smiled at both of us.

“Well, shall we? I have a few words I want to say before we eat,” Mario said. I inhaled dramatically, making Sidney and Nathalie laugh as the four of us made our way to the long candlelit table.

“I hope you brought that hankie I asked for, mon chérie, (my dear)” I told Sidney, squeezing his hand as I leaned my shoulder into Mario’s chest playfully. “I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”

We four made our way to the center of the tent where the rest of our guests now sat, chatter and laughter floating through the night air. When we reached the table, Sidney pulled out my chair and tucked me into my seat, as Mario cleared his throat, a hush falling over our family and closest friends.

“Can I have everyone’s attention, just for a minute?” Mario asked gently, taking hold of the glass of champagne at his place setting that matched the other flutes dotting the glittering gold table runner. Sidney draped an arm easily across the back of my chair and I leaned back into him to look up at Mario beside me.

“I just wanted to say a few words ahead of our dinner this evening, but more importantly, ahead of tomorrow’s events. First of all, thank you all so much for being here. I’m really thrilled to be throwing this celebration for Juliette and Sidney, and you all are such an important part of this as the people who walk alongside them every day. I know it means so much to them to have you all here. I also... I just want to say how proud I am of Juliette and of the woman she has become. She is my only niece, and that has been special enough, but she has really been more of a daughter to me, to us.” Mario stopped to clear his throat and glanced down at the table, and I felt my chest tighten as I looked on.

“As those of you who are here tonight know... we lost Juliette’s father, my brother Robert, unexpectedly when she was twelve years old. Robert, he... he loved Juliette more than anything he ever loved his whole life.”

I felt tears fall from my lashes at last as Sidney pulled me closer to him, kissing my cheekbone softly. He tucked the aforementioned handkerchief into my palm with his free hand and I whispered my thanks as I dabbed at the corners of my eyes.

Mario’s voice was quivering as he continued.

“He would always say that she was his ‘cadeau le plus précieux’ — his most precious gift. And that’s what Juliette has been to us, too. A precious gift. And... I know that that’s what she is to Sidney as well. I see it in the way he treats her every day. He truly treasures her. I’ve known Sidney for a long time now, and I know what a remarkable man he is. I can tell you that Robert would be so pleased that Sidney has taken over as the most important man in his daughter’s life, the person who cares for her and protects her. It’s a big responsibility, and I truly cannot think of anyone more perfect for the role.”

I squeezed Sidney’s thigh as he dropped his head and sniffled. Mario smiled at us both, as did Sidney’s parents seated across from us. Trina reached for Sidney’s other hand and squeezed it once as he blinked back tears.

“Juliette, Sid — I can’t wait to watch the two of you continue to grow together, now as husband and wife. I’m so grateful, as we all are, to be able to bear witness to your love. So, let’s all raise our glasses,” he instructed. All of us at the table did as he requested, holding our flutes skyward.

“Cheers to Sidney and Juliette — two precious gifts — and the love they share. Love you guys,” Mario finished, a round of “salud” and applause sounding as I clinked my glass with Sidney’s, sharing a quick kiss with him before we both stood.

I threw my arms around Mario’s neck, hugging tightly and delighting in his fatherly embrace.

“I love you, oncle,” I whispered. “Thank you so much. For everything. You mean the world to me.” Mario breathed a solemn chuckle and replied, “Oh, ma petite princesse, I love you, too. You truly are a gift to me.” We held each other for another moment before pulling away with soft smiles and damp eyes, Sidney following by leaning in to hug and exchange words of gratitude with Mario.

Once we were all seated again, dinner and more drinks were served as we all fell into gleeful conversation, sharing stories from Sidney’s and my childhoods and also from our time as a couple. Our families and friends rotated retelling tales of the moments they each knew Sidney and I would be together forever, warming both of us and also occasionally making us blush. We talked of our Italian honeymoon itinerary and Sidney’s and the other hockey players’ plans for the remainder of the summer, and we reviewed once more the men’s and the women’s schedules for tomorrow.

Eventually, long after the plates had been cleared, our guests began to rise from their chairs, saying their goodbyes. Nate and Mike were staying at Mario’s with Sidney and of course Austin. Nathalie and her girls, along with Taylor, were coming back to my house with me for the night. Our couple friends with children had opted to head back to the hotel nearby where we had booked a block of rooms.

After hugging Troy and Trina and excitedly promising to see them tomorrow, I planned to make my way back inside and prepare to leave soon. Instead, Sidney grabbed my forearm gently, spinning me toward him as he smirked.

“Not so fast,” he giggled, the drinks in his system having turned his cheeks pink and his eyes sparkling.

“What are you doing, goofball?” I asked, noticing that Mario was the only other person left under the tent. He simply winked at me and carried his highball glass away with him, through the door and into the house.

“Well, the DJ’s all set up, but he has to do a sound check before he leaves... I thought maybe we could help him out,” Sidney suggested, smirking at me with his palms extended. I took hold of his hands and laughed, “What do you mean?”

Before I could say anything else, I heard the first strains of the song that Sidney and I had selected for our first dance at tomorrow’s reception. Only then did I notice the DJ at his booth at the back of the yard, past the walls of the tent. Sidney smiled warmly at me.

The first time we listened to the song together, it came on Sidney’s car radio during a road trip, and we couldn’t stop looking across the vehicle at each other as we realized how closely it reflected our relationship. Since then, we had danced to it many times alone in our home. It was the only song that seemed worthy of accompanying our first dance as husband and wife.

I met you in the dark

You lit me up

You made me feel as though

I was enough...

Shaking my head in disbelief at his thoughtfulness, I followed Sidney’s lead out to the empty dance floor.

“You set me up,” I joked, pushing a finger into his hard chest. “You’re good.” He chuckled.

Then you smiled over your shoulder

For a minute I was stone-cold sober

I pulled you closer to my chest...

“Just figured we could get in a practice run is all,” Sidney grinned, pulling my hips toward his as we moved slowly as one, my head resting on his chest, hands intertwined. “Not that you need one, but I do.” We both snickered and I hit his shoulder playfully.

I knew I loved you then

But you'd never know

'Cause I played it cool when I was scared of letting go...

“God... can you believe this day is finally almost here?” I asked, feeling Sidney hum softly into my hair.

“I really can’t. It’s been a long time coming, love,” he spoke, kissing my forehead and breathing me in. I squeezed his hand as we continued to sway together.

I knew I needed you

But I never showed

But I wanna stay with you

Until we're grey and old

Just say you won't let go...

“Yeah, it’s been coming since I was eighteen and you came over for that bonfire. You walked up and I was sitting with Lauren right over there,” I recalled, motioning to the brick patio nearby and making Sidney laugh against the top of my head.

“And I couldn’t believe how beautiful you were,” he told me. “And I really couldn’t believe that I was falling for Mario’s niece.” I giggled, fingers folding against his collar.

“I know it sounds crazy to everyone else, but we knew that night, didn’t we?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yeah, baby,” I replied sincerely. “We did.”

I'll wake you up with some

Breakfast in bed

I'll bring you coffee

With a kiss on your head

And I'll take the kids to school

Wave them goodbye

And I'll thank my lucky stars

For that night...

“How are you doing... with everything?” I knew Sidney so well that even by the tone of his voice and the pause in his question, I understood what he was asking — how I was handling not having my parents around for this momentous weekend. I inhaled and picked up my head to look at him. I gave him a small smile as he eyed me attentively.

“I’m honestly doing okay,” I promised him. “I have my moments, you know? Especially just thinking about my dad. Mario looks so much like him and sometimes I—“

My breath caught in my throat and I swallowed thickly. I looked at Sidney with hesitance and shrugged slightly. He sighed softly and hugged his arm tighter around my hips as moisture coated my eyes.

When you looked over your shoulder

For a minute I forget that I'm older

I wanna dance with you right now, oh

And you look as beautiful as ever

And I swear that every day you'll get better

You make me feel this way somehow

“I know, Juliette,” Sidney told me, lips close to my ear, sensing what my words had failed to convey. “I know this isn’t easy.”

After a deep breath I said, “No, it isn’t. But Mario and Nathalie, they just make everything so much better. That alone is so incredible. And then... your parents, and Taylor, and you.” I shook my head, looking up into his gaze. “That’s enough. You are more than enough. You’re my family.”

Sidney stood up a little straighter, becoming visibly emotional as I uttered the declaration. He leaned down to capture my lips in an ardent kiss, then rested his forehead against mine as we continued our dance.

I'm so in love with you

And I hope you know

Darling, your love is more than worth its weight in gold

We've come so far, my dear

Look how we've grown

And I wanna stay with you

Until we're grey and old...

“I’ll always be your family, Juliette,” Sidney assured in a low voice. “And someday we’ll have a family of our own.”

I grinned against him, head resting in the crook of his neck. He continued, and I allowed my eyes to fall closed, his promises soothing me.

“God, they’ll be so beautiful — our kids. And they’ll know just how much their mom and their dad both love them, and how much the rest of their family does, too,” Sidney said, kissing my hair. “They’ll never have to wonder. And you’ll never have to wonder how much you’re loved, too.”

I wanna live with you

Even when we're ghosts

'Cause you were always there for me

When I needed you most

I’m gonna love you ‘til my lungs give out

I promise, ‘til death we part

Like in our vows...

“I love you so much, Sidney,” I whispered, pushing myself up on my toes to take his face in both hands and kiss him firmly. His strong exterior melted palpably in my grasp.

“Say you won’t let go,” I murmured against his lips.

He shook his head.

“I’m never letting go of you, Jules.”

_____

After a lengthy and intimate goodbye in Mario’s driveway, with our respective bridal party members periodically calling our names trying to speed up the process, I finally attempted to pry myself out of Sidney’s hold. With one last heated kiss that made my lips tingle and toes curl, I smoothed my hands across his broad shoulders and sighed.

“Let’s leave on that note,” I suggested. “Because that right there... that’s gonna leave me wanting more,” I added in a whisper. He ghosted his fingers down my bare arms as he let out a soft moan.

“I wish I could take you now,” he growled, pulling me into himself once more. I laughed, holding him close then finally backing away, squeezing his hands in mine.

“One more day, handsome,” I promised. “Then I’m all yours... forever.” His eyes flashed with pride.

“Forever,” Sidney repeated, nodding once. He squeezed my hands with another sigh and said, “Okay, you better go now, because I’m just never gonna be ready to let you go.”

“Okay,” I whispered with a cutesy laugh. “I’m going.” I walked backwards slowly, drinking in his fit figure and biting down on my bottom lip. His eyes widened.

“Juliette!” he warned in a strained whine. “Please don’t do that.��

I tipped my head back in a slightly maniacal laugh. “You can punish me tomorrow,” I whispered with a wink. Sidney’s own head fell backward as he groaned.

“I love you, Sidney Crosby,” I told him, nearing Lauren’s Mercedes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I love you, Juliette,” he returned. “How ‘bout tomorrow I make you Mrs. Juliette Crosby?” My heart fluttered as I giggled like a schoolgirl.

“I’ve never wanted anything more,” I told him earnestly.

I blew him a kiss as I got into Lauren’s passenger seat and was whisked away from Sidney, with him watching us pull down the driveway until we were out of sight.

On the ride home, Lauren and Stephanie teased me about the never-ending farewell between Sidney and me. All I could do was roll my eyes and smirk as they poked fun.

Alexa, ever my protective little sister, stepped in for the second time of the evening.

“You guys are mean! I find it adorable,” she announced. “We should all hope that we find someone who loves us as much as Sid loves Jules.” I turned in my seat and threw my youngest cousin a grateful grin.

“Thanks, Lex,” I said. “You always were my favorite.” Lauren and Stephanie, resigned to Alexa’s sentiments just a moment ago, now launched into hysterics once more as they fought over who was indeed my preferred cousin.

For the rest of the short drive, the nonsense had only morphed into giddy slap-happiness as we piled out of the SUV and made our way into Sidney’s and my house. We pushed the door open to find Nathalie already waiting for us inside, shaking her head at our antics.

“You girls! You’re never goofier than when you’re all together,” she laughed.

Stephanie hooked an arm around my neck and touched our heads together, her athletic frame towering over me.

“Together’s our favorite place to be,” Stephanie mused, causing us all to groan and needle her about her sappy statement as we made our way into the living room.

“Hey, Jules, why don’t you go put on some comfy clothes, then we can sit out back and have some wine?” Lauren suggested.

I nodded quickly. “Sounds perfect to me,” I replied, beaming. She mirrored my smile and I started up the grand staircase.

“Not too much wine!” Nathalie scolded from the kitchen. “No hangovers or puffy eyes for us tomorrow.” All of us younger girls giggled again amongst ourselves, though we knew that we would be best to follow her motherly advice, especially on this occasion.

As I reached our second story, my heart flickered with a distinct emptiness as I realized that Sidney wasn’t here, and wouldn’t be. The two of us spent so few summer nights apart that I could probably count them on only one hand each year. Since his in-season schedule was so strenuous, he made sure that he was home every summer afternoon or evening in plenty of time to catch up about our days, to have dinner together — whether at home or out — and to unwind with a cocktail or a beer. On those summer nights we spent in Pittsburgh and not Cole Harbour, we could often be found with drinks in hand on our bedroom balcony, watching the late evening sun set behind the trees.

I stepped out of my heels when I reached our master suite, flicking on the light switch before scooping up my shoes with two fingers. As I headed for my walk-in closet to change, I gasped at what was before my eyes — on the mirrored glass table in our sitting area sat a massive bouquet of red roses, in an enormous glass vase adorned with a white silk bow. Tucked into the ribbon was a folded piece of paper. My breath caught in my throat, and I scampered to the table on the balls of my feet.

I pulled the letter from its resting place — “To My Bride,” the outer leaf read. I splayed my fingers across my chest as I began to get misty-eyed. The paper smelled faintly of Sid’s cologne. I pulled it open with shaking hands, eyes flickering over the familiar handwriting.

My dearest love,

Just think — by this time tomorrow, you and I will be husband and wife! What a journey it’s been so far. I can’t wait to travel this road with you for the rest of my days, and to fill this house for years to come with laughter, love, and lots of children with you.

My Juliette, never forget how intensely I adore you, how incredibly much I cherish you, how deeply you amaze me, or how proud I am to call you mine. Tomorrow is the first day of our forever. I can hardly stand the thought. I’ll see you at the altar, princess.

With all my love, for all my life,

P.S. Six dozen roses for the six years I’ve loved you. I’ll love you for an eternity more. XO.

I moved my hand from my mouth to wipe a few fallen tears that had dropped onto my cheeks, sniffling as I refolded the paper. Though I had promised my cousins that I would avoid talking to Sidney tonight, I knew in my heart that even they would allow an exception to the rule for a gesture as remarkable as this one.

I dug through my purse on the floor beneath me and found my phone, calling the most recent contact in my history. It rang only once before the line was picked up.

“Hi, princess,” I heard my groom say, the smile in his tone evident.

“You are incredible,” I remarked in a shaky voice, trying to swallow the evidence of my happy tears. “I just walked into our room and found your flowers. Thank you, baby.”

Sidney let out a hum, pleased with himself. “You’re welcome, love. Gotta hand the assist to Nate on that one — he dropped off the roses when you and I left for Mario’s earlier,” he told you.

“Love you, Jules!” you heard Nate exclaim in the background, followed by a couple of whoops from the other men. You laughed as their volume faded, guessing that Sidney had stepped into a more private location as he chuckled.

“Well, thank him for me, too,” I said into the phone. “I was just thinking of how much I already miss you. Normally on a night like tonight, we’d be together on the balcony or in the yard.” He let out a contemplative hum.

“I miss you too, Jules,” he admitted. “We don’t spend too many nights away from that porch this time of year, eh?” I breathed a laugh at how he seemed to be able to read my thoughts, and he continued. “Soon enough we’ll be sitting there together again, with rings on both our hands.” I smiled at the thought.

“Sounds perfect. Listen, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to say thank you for the flowers, but mostly for the letter,” I told him. “I can’t wait to spend a lifetime with you, Sidney.”

He sighed contentedly into the phone. “Good news is we don’t have to wait much longer. I’m glad you enjoyed the surprise. Have a nice night with the girls and I’ll see you tomorrow, beautiful. I love you so much,” Sidney said warmly.

“I love you, too,” I responded. “See you tomorrow, babe.” We both hesitated slightly to hang up the call but I finally did after we exchanged yet another set of goodbyes. I clutched my phone to my chest and stared at the bouquet once again.

“Forever,” I whispered airily.

86 notes · View notes

phoenixhalliwell · 4 years

Text

Do You want to know a secret?

Pairings: Frankie 'Catfish' Morales X Gender Neutral Reader

Author's Note: Sorry for the repost, Tumblr has been a little weirdo and decided it didn't like this fic so somehow deleted it completely! If I’ve overlooked anything that might imply anything other than gender neutral please give me a heads up and I will correct it <3

Frankie happens to meet the younger miller sibling at a party and drama ensues.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Frankie tightens his grip on the steering wheel of his truck and tries to keep himself calm. The loud music from the party drifts in through the window, causing him to sigh.

'It's just party, it's a safe place. Your brothers are inside. Just go in, have a drink, show face and if it gets too much get the fuck out of dodge.' He repeats the mantra over and over again. So caught up in his thoughts, he doesn't see movement out of the corner of his eye.

BANG

"MOTHERFUCKER" Frankie nearly launches himself through the front window at the sudden interruption. Heart racing, he turns to the source of the noise, only to see Santiago giggling with his face pressed up against the door.

"I swear to God Pope, one of these days I'm going to end you!" he growls, quickly opening the door and knocking his friend in the face with it.

"Owwwww" Santi whines, rubbing his nose. Frankie just smirks. "Serves you right pendejo" Grabbing his cap off the passenger's seat, he shoves it on his head like a protective shield and jams his hands in his pockets.

"Thought you were never gonna get out of that fucking truck Fish" Santi teases but only receives a half hearted shrug of the shoulders in return. He feels a pang of sympathy for his friend and quickly tries to reassure him.

"Look, I know you're not the best with people, but it's a party! Just have a drink and relax. God knows you need to chill out yeah? Lets head in, it's fucking freezing out here."

Both men trudge up the driveway towards the house, Santi gives Frankie a playful nudge before opening the door and heading inside. Frankie takes a deep breath to brace himself before heading into the 'warzone' The Millers party is in full swing. With the combination of Will's organisation (there is enough alcohol here to open a liquor store) and Benny's love of people, the house is jam packed and the partygoers want for nothing while they are here. Santi is in his element and happily mingles with everyone, smiling and hugging people as he goes. Frankie makes a beeline for the kitchen, his usual designated safe place and finds Will is already there, chatting away to an unfamiliar face. Will's face lights up when he eventually sees his friend and calls out

"Hey man! Didn't think you were actually going to make it"

Will excuses himself from the person he was talking to and rushes over to give Frankie a bear hug.

"Pope can be pretty persuasive when he wants to be" Frankie has to shout a little to be heard.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, Santi tackles Will from the side and a tussle breaks out. Frankie just rolls his eyes and grabs himself a beer to watch the show. The boys have a quick catch up in the kitchen before Will is stolen away to play party host. Frankie is nursing his second beer and trying to keep himself calm when he suddenly gets a quick jab in the ribs from Santi.

" What the fuck man?" he growls at his friend. Santi slides closer to him before informing him

" You've caught someone's eye hermano" and subtly nodding over to someone behind Frankie.

Frankie does a quick glance over his shoulder to where Pope gestured and suddenly feels his breath leave him. Standing in the corner of the kitchen has to be the most beautiful person he had ever had the pleasure of seeing. While everyone else is decked out to the nines, they have opted for a more casual approach which he loves. A further glance up and he sees the warm smile which is currently being given to him. Be still my beating heart is all Frankie can think. Ever the Hawk, Santi notices his brother's heart eyes and doesn't hesitate to shout over.

"Hey! Fancy joining us? "

Well that sure as hell snaps Frankie out of his daydreams and panic runs through him. Whipping round he sees Santi wiggle his eyebrows at him and shoot him a thumbs up with a shit eating grin. Frankie feels his face flush muttering curses under his breath. He's definitely going to end Pope, he just has to figure out how to make it look like an accident. Their new guest is quick to make their way over to them and introduces themselves.

"Hi, I'm jinx"

Frankie gapes down at the hand that is currently extended to him but makes no move to shake it. He feels utterly betrayed by his body right now.' Why are you so fucking awkward?' He wants to shout to himself.

Jinx gives Frankie an unsure look as though maybe regretting coming over. Santi is quick to take the lead and playfully pushes Frankie out the way to get to Jinx.

"Jinx! What a great name. I'm Santiago and this useless bastard here is my favourite flyboy Frankie" Jinx lets out a belly laugh at this and Frankie has to hold onto the counter to keep himself upright. A small pang of jealous shoots through him at the thought of Santi being able to make Jinx laugh like that. 'Smooth bastard' he thinks bitterly. After a few moments of listening to the two of them talk, Frankie gets his wits about him and is able to engage Jinx in a conversation. And boy is he given a run for his money. Jinx is funny, sharp as a tack and sarcastic as hell. Frankie finds himself falling a little deeper as time goes on and can't for the life of him remember now why he didn't want to come to this party.

" I see you boys have finally met the baby of the family" Benny interrupts the moment, slinging his arm around Jinx's shoulder, squeezing their cheeks together before ruffling their hair. Jinx squawks in outrage and lands a sold punch on Benny's shoulder, causing him to wince. The ensuing sibling squabbling begins to fade out as Frankie feels the colour drain from his face.

"Wait. You're Y/N Miller???? I thought you said your name was Jinx?" Santi questions, casting a glance at Fish.

" It's a nickname my brothers call me because everything always going south whenever I get involved" Jinx replies, face heating up.

Frankie is in the middle of a meltdown at the new revelation. Of all the people at this fucking party, he had to be pining after his brothers' younger sibling. Frankie groans in realisation, causing everyone to turn at look at him in sync.

"You good there Fish? you're looking a little pale." Frankie is suddenly brought back to the group, embarrassed by being caught out.

"Fine, awesome, Fantastic" Frankie replies with a nervous laugh. Benny narrows his eyes at him before throwing another curve ball into the conversation, causing Jinx to look away in embarrassment.

"I hope the two of you kept your hands off baby Miller, I know what you're like Garcia!" Benny warns, point a finger at him.

"Not me you have to worry about" Santi mutters under his breath, causing Frankie to elbow him roughly in the side. Benny just glares at the both of them. 'And that is enough fun for one evening, time to retreat' Frankie decides and makes his excuses to his friends. He makes sure to tell Jinx how lovely it was to meet them and before hightailing it out of the kitchen. He's nearly at the front door when he feels a hand on his arm and turns to see Jinx looking at him nervously.

" Look I know this goes against protocol with you and the guys, but I had a really fun time tonight and I'd really like to spend more time getting to know you if you were interested as well. .." Jinx is suddenly cut off by Benny shouting "YO JINX WHERE YOU AT?" Sighing, they shove a piece of paper into Frankie's hand , and give it a tight squeeze.

" Balls in your court Frankie" and then they disappear into the crowd to find Benny. Frankie looks down at the number in his hand, hardly believing his luck. Maybe Pope can live for another day.

After a lot of back and forth, Frankie bites the bullet and texts Jinx. Palms clammy he rewrites the message for the millionth time before launching the phone on the table and throwing himself dramatically on the couch. He has had found a lot of bad thoughts creep into his mind over the past few days since the party which kept him from messaging sooner.

'What have I possibly got to offer? Am I good enough? Why would they want to get involved with a washed up old army man? What if this is a joke? Frankie is pulled from his thoughts by a loud buzz and a coldness washes through him. Moment of truth. Taking a deep breath before glancing down at his phone, a surprised laugh suddenly escapes him.

Messaged received from Jinx: Took you long enough flyboy. You owe me dinner for making me wait.

It's been so long since he had felt this light and care free and it was Jinx who had brought that out in him. After messaging constantly back and forth, it was decided that their first date would be at a cosy little diner. This eased Frankie's mind as he was already a nervous wreck without bringing a fancy establishment into the mix. It was easy to talk to Jinx and Frankie found himself pouring his heart out about his past mistakes: about his substance abuse, how his license had been suspended and how he'd lost his wife and daughter because of it. Shame welled up in him but was swiftly chased away with the feeling of Jinx's hand covering his and the sweet smile they gave him. The next few weeks were honestly the best of Frankie's life. The couple had come to an agreement that they would keep whatever was going on between the two of them to themselves. To allow their relationship to bloom without any outside interferences (i.e The Miller brothers) Frankie would wake up to texts wishing him good morning which made his day that much brighter. They would sneak in frequent date nights and their stolen kisses always made him feel like a teenager. His favourite night had to be when they had went out a drive in his truck and sat in the bed of it looking at the stars and making up constellations to make each other laugh. He had made sure to bring a blanket with them and the feeling of Jinx in his arm's quietened all the noise in his head. He was finally at peace.

Of course he felt guilty about sneaking around with Jinx behind his brothers backs but the more time they spent together, the less Frankie began to care about the 'betrayal' His friends are starting to get a bit suspicious of his shiftiness but Frankie is quick to assure him that everything is fine. And everything was fine until one Santiago fucking Garcia had to go and ruin everything. After a nice dinner and drinks at a nearby restaurant, Frankie and Jinx ended up back at his house for the evening. As soon as the front door closed, the couple were all over each other unable to keep their hands to themselves. Giggling, Jinx dragged Frankie to the couch before playful pushing him onto the couch and quickly straddling him. Hands roam each other's bodies and they are just getting into the swing of things when the front door is rudely thrown open and Santiago comes marching in

"Frankie what the fuck man why aren't you answering my tex....."

Santi stopped abruptly in the living room doorway, doing a perfect imitation of a fish. Both parties just stare at one another before Santi suddenly points at them and shouts

" I fucking knew it!!!!"

" Please, you didn't know shit" Jinx scoffs while Frankie hides his face in his hands out of sheer embarrassment of being caught. Sighing, he gently rolling Jinx off him onto the couch and receives a confused look in return. Frankie drags himself off the couch and makes his way to Santiago, grabbing his shoulders and looking him straight in the eye.

" Pope, I need you to listen to me right now ok, this is important. Me and Jinx have been seeing each other for a couple of months now and its going so good man. I haven't been this happy in a long time. But you CANNOT say anything to Will or Benny about what you saw. If they find out they're going to kill me!"

Santi looks between the two of you, noticing the way Jinx nervously bites their lip, waiting for his answer. Crossing his heart, Santiago nudges Frankie.

"Don't worry guys, your secrets safe with me"

What a load of shit.

*a few weeks later *

"OK boys listen up! I want a clean fight. Smack talk is allowed but absolutely no contact or you will be disqualified." Jinx announces to the room.

On one side of the table, Santi is rubbing Frankie's shoulder, furiously whispering instructions into his ear, while his friend is just nodding numbly along but not really taking anything in. Across the way he sees the Miller boys sending him death glares. Frankie gulps, why did it have to come to this?

After Santi (who still feels really guilty about it) accidently let it slip at boy's night the previous evening that Frankie and Jinx where sneaking about together, shit hit the fucking fan. In a slight rage, Benny had tried to strangle Frankie for "breaking the bro code" while Santi was trying to pry them apart all the while pleading Fish for forgiveness. Will was pacing the floor off to the side giving Jinx a lecture down the phone about the sanctity of brothers in arms and " WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE FRANKIE JINX?"

Eventually the drama had simmered down and an agreement had been made. This would be settled through a good old game of Beer Pong (which Jinx had picked because the whole crew were all abysmal at it) The terms and condition where as follows: If Frankie's team won, he could continue seeing jinx to his hearts content and nothing would be said on the matter. If the Millers won then Frankie was to never see the youngest Miller again and would be forced to live a life of exile ( Will eventually talked his brother down to Fish having to spend a week in the 'doghouse' for his transgressions) Jinx was chosen to referee the match because there wasn't anyone else who could come out to play at such short notice. The only reason Jinx let this go this far was so that their brothers go to do the whole 'overprotective' thing. They scoff at the thought that benny and Will actually believe they had a say in the new relationship.

Regardless of the outcome, Frankie was going home with them tonight.

"Like all great battles, this is to win the hand of your one true love. We know Benny can't shoot for shit so it's Will we have to keep an eye on. We've got this hermano" Santi whispers in Frankie's ear.

The next hour descends into complete chaos as the boy trashed talked one another and take dirty shots and became the most competitive they have ever been! Eventually there is a tie between the two teams and a hush had fallen over the room. This next one would the deciding turn, his last chance. Santi solemnly hands Frankie the ball. No Pressure. Inhaling deeply, Frankie sends up a prayer and takes the shot......

A rabble of noise descends over the room. It takes him a while to understand that Pope is screaming in triumph while Benny is screaming in outrage. Frankie finds himself quickly scooped up into a hug, with Santi chanting " WE WON, WE WON!!!" in his ear. When he is eventually put back down, he turns round to see Jinx doubled over , tears streaming down their face, laughing at the madness. There is a tight feeling in his chest as he suddenly realises just how much he loves them. Sensing movement just behind him, Frankie quickly turns to see Will beside him. The eldest Miller stares him straight in the eye before sighing and shaking his head.

"Listen Fish, i'm not gonna lie I am not 100% ok with this situation. In my eyes, no one is ever going to be good enough for Jinx, but I suppose if they HAVE to be with someone then you are the best man for the job."

Frankie lets out a breath he didn't even realise he was holding. He sticks his hand out to Will who takes it and gives it a firm shake.

"You have no idea how much of a weight that is off my shoulders man. What about Benny?"

" He'll come around eventually, he's just really overprotective of Jinx." Will reassures, clapping Fish on the back and heading into the kitchen to get a beer.

Frankie's shoulders slump in relief that this whole debacle is over. No more sneaking around, stealing kisses and quiet moments together. No more having to keep his feelings a secret. He can still hear Benny grumbling away in the background, arguing that the game was rigged and demanding a rematch. Santi being the shit stirrer that he is, cackles and continues to wind him up, calling him a sore loser. Frankie finally glances back to Jinx who is leaning against the wall smirking at him.

" Ready to claim your prize Francisco?"

Frankie's heart soars.

#Frankie Morales #frankie 'catfish' morales #francisco morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x reader #Triple Frontier #Benny Miller #william ironhead miller #Will Miller #Santiago Garcia #santiago pope garcia #do you want to know a secret

46 notes · View notes

imjustthemechanic · 3 years

Photo

The Price of a Soul

Part 1/? - Agent Russel Part 2/? - The Letter Part 3/? - Miss Lake

Peggy and the real Agent Russel look into Miss Lake’s apartment, and find an unusual apology.

Both Peggy and Russel spent their mornings with a sketch artist, getting their memories of the mysterious woman’s face down on paper so they could be compared. When the two drawings were finally placed side by side, Peggy was not at all surprised to see they could very well be the same person. The woman who called herself ‘Kay’ had a pleasant oval face with a short, turned-up nose, the flawless skin Russel had already mentioned, and full lips that she accentuated with dramatic lipstick. She was, Peggy observed, not so much strikingly beautiful in herself as somebody who knew her own good best features and how to emphasize them.

Dottie had been very much the same.

With that done, Peggy was finally able to stop by at a diner for some breakfast, though it was nearly lunch time and her stomach was growling fiercely. Russel went with her.

“You’ve been eating all morning,” Peggy reminded him when he ordered the breakfast platter – bacon, eggs, sausages, potatoes, tomatoes, pancakes, and toast.

“I was in the trunk of my car for twenty-four hours, Agent Carter,” he replied. “I could eat a horse.”

“I think you already did. Have you called your wife?” Peggy asked.

He looked sheepish. “I asked one of the police to do it for me.”

Mrs. Russel had probably loved that. “How did that go?”

“I don’t know yet and I’m not sure I want to.”

“Mmm,” was all Peggy said. It was a strange thing… men often treated their wives as foolish annoyances, yet at the same time they could be utterly terrified of them, as if women were less people than they were forces of nature. “Well, perhaps you can consider it a learning experience.”

“Damned right,” Russel said. Peggy wondered what he thought he’d learned.

“I suppose I’m going to have to go over the whole story of my interactions with Miss Underwood again,” Peggy remarked, as the waitress set their breakfasts on the table. Oddly, it seemed less daunting now… as if telling it to the spy had been a reassuring practice run.

Russel cut himself a large square out of the edge of his pancakes and dipped it in syrup before stuffing it in his mouth. “Save it for the next guy, Agent Carter,” he said around the mouthful. “Call it a hunch but I think I’m about to be taken off this case.”

At least he was a realist, Peggy observed. She sat quietly for a moment as he devoured sausages whole, then reached into her bag and took out the envelope. “Agent Russel,” she said, “I believe our mutual friend may have given this to me. Did she get it from you?”

He looked up at the envelope and frowned. “I don’t think so. What’s in it?”

“A piece of paper with six numbers on it,” Peggy replied. “Seventy-nine, forty-seven, thirty-five, ninety-five, twenty-five, three.” They had burned themselves into her brain. She would never forget them, any more than she would have forgotten her own name. “Does that mean anything to you?”

Russel shook his head. “A code?” he suggested, and thought for a moment. “Latitude and longitude?”

“It’s an island in Northern Canada, I already looked it up,” Peggy said. “There’s nothing but sea ice for miles.” Would that mean anything to him? Did he know of her association with Steve?

He shrugged. “The only thing I can suggest is call the Canadians and ask them to take a look.”

Not his, then… and he hadn’t known the name Olga Barynova. Had the latter been a slip, or had ‘Kay’ deliberately fed her information? And what in the world could be the meaning of the coordinates coming from a likely Soviet operative? Before she placed any long-distance phone calls to Canada, Peggy really needed to find this woman. The only question was, having done so, would they be able to get any information out of her?

Peggy had told Daniel where she’d be, so it wasn’t a surprise when one of the policemen came into the diner and approached their table. “Agents?” he said. “We traced that phone number.”

“Yes?” Peggy perked up. She wouldn’t be surprised to find out it led to a pay phone, but that could at least be dusted for prints.

The man handed Agent Russel a piece of notepaper. “It belongs to a room above the Botticelli Gardens nightclub on Hollywood Boulevard. Some of the waitresses live up there. The woman who keeps the records, Mrs. Lowe, said room four was rented to a woman named Katherine Lake.”

Agent Russel opened his mouth, but Peggy got there first. “Did you show her the sketches?” she asked.

“That’s what I was going to ask,” said Russel.

“Not yet,” the policeman said.

“Then I’ll head over there at once,” said Peggy.

Russel nodded and held up a hand. “Waitress!” He snapped his fingers. “Can I get the rest of this to go?”

“I thought you were being taken off the case,” Peggy reminded him.

“I’ve got a personal interest now.”

“Is that a personal interest in apprehending this Miss Lake, or a personal interest in avoiding your wife?”

“Bit of both,” he admitted.

He probably thought Peggy would need help with the investigation, she observed. She just hoped he wouldn’t get too much in the way.

The Botticelli Gardens was a located in a three-storey building designed to look from the outside like an Italian Villa, with red roofs, decorative columns, and a pair of under-watered cypress tress flanking the front doors. At this time of day they were not yet open, so Peggy and Russel went around the side to the staff entrance and knocked.

The door opened to reveal a plump middle-aged woman of mixed racial ancestry, her frizzy dark hair only just contained in a bun at the back of her neck and a pair of cat-eye glasses perched precariously on her short nose. Both Peggy and Russel held up their badges.

“Ned Russel, FBI,” he said.

“Peggy Carter, SSR,” Peggy added. “Are you Mrs. Lowe?”

The woman heaved a sigh that suggested this was not the first time law enforcement had shown up on her doorstep this week. “Yes, I’m Gladys Lowe,” she said. “Now what?”

Peggy held up the sketch of Miss Lake. “Do you know this woman?”

“Yes,” said Mrs. Lowe, not even surprised. “That’s Kay Lake. Arthur hired her about a week ago, but she didn’t turn up for work yesterday evening. What’d she do?”

“Besides drugging me, robbing me, and leaving me locked in the trunk of my car?” asked Russel.

“Impersonating an FBI agent to gain access to classified information,” Peggy added. “And possibly more, we’re not sure yet. May we have a look at her room, please?”

Mrs. Lowe’s eyebrows rose and she whistled. “She’s ambitious. Most of them settle for petty theft. Come in, she’s room four. Are you going to impound her belongings?” She was probably hoping to sell them.

“That depends on what we find, Mrs. Lowe,” said Peggy.

Mrs. Lowe showed them upstairs. The second floor of the Botticelli Gardens was private party rooms for the VIP clientele, but the third was set aside as living quarters for the staff. The rooms were tiny and cramped, with only one bathroom and one laundry for the lot of them. Mrs. Lowe unlocked number four and Peggy followed Agent Russel inside.

It was empty. There was a tiny bed, a nightstand, a small wardrobe, and a smaller vanity under the one grubby little window. All the drawers and cupboard doors were open, to show that there was nothing in any of them. The bedclothes were folded at the end of the mattress, so it was easy to see that there was likewise nothing under the bed. The only thing in the room that would not have been there when Miss Lake moved in was a large brown paper bag on top of the folded sheets.

Peggy and Russel exchanged a glance. “Mrs. Lowe,” said Peggy. “Do you have any idea what might be in that bag?”

“No,” was the reply.

Russel edged forward and knocked it over. It lay quietly on the mattress, showing no signs of being dangerous, and Peggy realized there was something written on it. In block capitals, somebody had written: SORRY.

“Let me do it. I have gloves,” said Peggy. She pulled them out of her purse and put them on, then very carefully unfolded the top of the paper bag. The first thing she saw inside was a leather folio… was that the one Lake had with her the other day? Peggy pulled it out and opened it, and found it did indeed contain typed pages summarizing what was known about Dorothy Underwood.

“That’s mine,” said Russel.

“I expected as much,” Peggy put it on the bed and looked into the bag again. “It appears your wallet and badge are in here, too, and a gun that I suspect is your service revolver. We’ll have to get these dusted for prints.”

“Agreed,” Russel said. “I’ll take them back to…”

“Ah-ah,” Peggy interrupted. “I’ll take them back to the SSR and have it done there. You’ve been taken off the case, remember?”

“Not officially yet,” he pointed out.

“But you’re sure it’s coming.”

Russel looked her over. “Are you always this… intense, Agent Carter?”

“Always,” Peggy assured him, with a practiced deadpan.

Peggy called Daniel, and soon after the SSR arrived in force to take a proper, more thorough look at the room while Mrs. Lowe stood there frowning disapprovingly and threatening horrible fates on anybody who damaged the furniture. Men covered everything with fingerprint powder and rapped on the floor, walls, and even the ceiling looking for secret hiding places. They found none of the latter, but were able to obtain a reasonably good set of latent prints from the various drawers and the bedposts. The size of these suggested they were a woman’s, or at least belonged to somebody with small hands. There were also a couple of blonde hairs on the bedclothes.

Unfortunately, they had no suspect to compare these to. Miss Lake probably knew that perfectly well. They would have to actually capture her before they could prove anything.

While they were busy bagging the evidence, another policeman arrived, looking for Agent Russel.

“We’ve had a call from your office,” he explained. “They want to talk to you.”

“I’m surprised it took them this long,” Russel sighed. “All right, I’ll head over.” He retrieved his hat from the hook on the back of the door of room four, and put it on. “Good luck with the case, Agent Carter… and with Miss Underwood.”

“Thank you, Agent Russel,” said Peggy, and realized she actually felt a bit sorry for him. It was true he’d been a terrible fool, but he’d never tried to deny that or pass the blame on to anybody else, and while he wanted to put off the consequences for as long as he could, he seemed to realize they were inevitable. That was more than Peggy could say for a great many people she knew, male or female. It was certainly more than she could say for herself in this mess with Dottie.

“Good luck with your wife,” she told him.

“Thanks. I’ll need it,” he replied ruefully, and left the room.

Back in the SSR offices that evening, Peggy found an opportunity when nobody seemed to be watching, and brushed fingerprint dust over the mysterious envelope. Several prints developed, and Peggy pulled out her own employee file so she could eliminate which ones were hers. Quite a few of them were… but there were others that were not, and when she examined the actual page with the numbers, she found a print of the side of a hand where it had rested while drawing the star and circles, and a palm in the upper left corner where the other hand had steadied the page.

The prints were partial, and Peggy was not an expert… but the left thumb bore a set of four interrupted lines that looked very much like a thumbprint that had been taken from one of the drawer knobs in room four.

That seemed to settle it: the envelope had indeed been left by Miss Lake. It had nothing to say, though, about the question of why. Was this a trick, an attempt to send the SSR off on a wild goose chase so that Miss Lake could track down Dottie herself without their interference? Or did the Soviets actually know where Captain America was? And if they did, what were they planning to do about it?

#fanfic #captain america #agent carter #peggy carter #steve rogers #steggy #fix it fic

6 notes · View notes

debunkingtaytaysbeard · 4 years

Text

i’ve been thinking of countering this argument from when i first came across it, but i now had the time to write it up, and as false god was brought up the other day, here is a long ranting argument for no particular reason.

so, looking at the context where the argument first came from, taking from the bible; here is the bigger context given (just taken from google. and sidenote, i did grow up in a catholic family, so there might be biases subconsciously)

...Although they claimed to be wise, they became fools 23 and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images made to look like a mortal human being and birds and animals and reptiles.

24 Therefore God gave them over in the sinful desires of their hearts to sexual impurity for the degrading of their bodies with one another. 25 They exchanged the truth about God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator—who is forever praised. Amen.

26 Because of this, God gave them over to shameful lusts. Even their women exchanged natural sexual relations for unnatural ones. 27 In the same way the men also abandoned natural relations with women and were inflamed with lust for one another. Men committed shameful acts with other men, and received in themselves the due penalty for their error.

28 Furthermore, just as they did not think it worthwhile to retain the knowledge of God, so God gave them over to a depraved mind, so that they do what ought not to be done. 29 They have become filled with every kind of wickedness, evil, greed and depravity. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit and malice.

- so this tells, as punishment for not worshipping God but other entities (false gods), humans were to live in sins. they gave into lust, crimes, greed - every sin God disproves of. it isn’t that same sex sexual acts is the equivalent to a “false god”. it is part of “everything depraved” giving into lust, which is a punishment as a consequence of not following God. i think there’s a difference in those wordings

- but for further religious context, under the bible’s teachings, for any Christian, only “husband and wife” is the acceptable relationship. they must be faithful: a wife should serve her husband, a husband should respect his wife. any sexual act outside of proper marriage is condemned, for both men and women.

- false god, the song, is not about a sinful relationship/a religiously forbidden relationship. the context of the line “we’d still worship this love, even if it’s a false god”, comes from that the song describes a relationship that “[gets] hard and [gets] lost/when you're led by blind faith”, so even if this “blind faith” in the relationship: that it’d work out; turns out to be “false” they’d still worship it. a love that’s their own religion. their form of intimacy (in your lips/on my hips) is their form of prayer, showing their faith to their love.

- then, there’s don’t blame me, which sounds like a prayer: “Lord save me...”. its a confession: that this love, this person she’d fallen in love with is the one she wants to stay with that’d she’d blindly follow through. its “the only drug”: the only thing that she ever needs now. its part of the dramatic persona she takes, a play on her reputation, that indeed “love made [her] crazy”: she is boy-crazy, and she is very much so for this specific love, unlike those “older guys” she “[toyed] with”. so in that context, “I would fall from grace/just to touch your face” follows through that she would absolutely do everything for this love, put through her reputation.

- none of these two songs by context (i.e. in what the song’s message and themes are of) describe a forbidden love/sinful love shamed by religion (by the bible, any premarital sexual relationship is forbidden anyway). religion is a metaphor that she believes in this love like someone would believe in religion. in essential, who that subject of love is, isn’t specified. but it being joe does make sense, nothing negates it in what the songs’ themes are about. the argument given that takes from the bible, seems slightly out of context to be convincing.

—————————————————————-

WOW ANON, this is good. Thank you for sharing this here.

#ttbask #taytaysbeard #ttb #kaylor #debunkingtaytaysbeard #dttb #dttbask #spade stopped by #spade #taylorswift #submission

4 notes · View notes

arysthaeniru · 4 years

Note

nina kaina!!

How do I feel about her?

I saved this question for last because I have complicated feelings about Nina. On the one hand, I love her from a person looking at a story standpoint. It is so rare that women are unabashedly evil and chaotic and loved for it anyway. Women are always punished for that sort of existence in a way that men never are, and I love how firm everybody is that Nina was terrible and awe-inspiring and adored. I have a personal headcanon that Nina comes with the Kains to Gorkhon in order to escape Russian society at the time, and be allowed to simply become a force of nature, instead of a waif or a theme. Nina stands for nothing: her death hangs over her family and the Town during the events of the Plague, yes, but it’s not in the boring literary way, where she only matters in death. It’s in this compelling way where she was an incredible woman whose family wants her back.

As a character, Nina’s an awful person who’s broken apart families and participated in the genocide of the Kin because she was bored??? But I’m drawn to the idea of her coexistence with the Kains and their vision. She doesn’t quite seem to be wanting the same things the Kains do, and it is fascinating to me how to ultimately drives and motivates them.

All the people I ship her with

Nina/Viktor is my high-key OTP. The wife-guy!!! I think that they’re such fascinating equals, and that their balance is interesting, because Viktor can control her and hold her back, but he mostly chose not to. And that says a lot about their dynamic. I don’t think they’re good people, but their relationship fascinates me, because it’s intensely loving. I’m mostly interested in the fallout for Viktor, after her death, and wtf it means for Viktor and Nina to share bodies now. I would love to see a negotiation fic, about how they discuss and partiton out their experience with the world through Viktor’s body.

I can see a Nina/Victoria romance too, their balance is described in deeply homoerotic terms, and they’re both powerful women who deserve a tense, adversarial Mistress relationship that ends in dramatic embraces and longing partings.

Non-romantic OTPs

There’s a quote from an old Pathologic website that described Pathologic 1′s Nina, which said that she was a catalyst for the rest of the Kain miracles. Her existence enhanced and shaped the people around her and forced them to become better people and challenge limits, and extend past themselves. This, of course, jives with her eventual installation into the Polyhedron. But along those lines, I think I’m most interested in Nina as someone who is the catalyst and motivating factor for her family: Viktor, Maria, Khan and to a lesser extent, Georgiy too. So I love dealing with the fucked up Kain dynamics.

Unpopular Opinion

I think it’s that, for me, Nina’s not a super compelling character. Neither is Victoria, because they aren’t really people: they’re ideals for the town to follow? So much of the town is stepped in this fake nostalgia of how everything was perfect before the Plague, and SUDDENLY bad things are happening. It’s very obvious, as you play as all three healers, that the cracks have been there for a long time, and the Plague simply brought the problems to the forefront. But the Mistresses, especially Nina and Victoria are part of that perfect mythos: that’s their role. They’re the untouchable pinnacles that Maria and Capella can never reach, and that Vlad and Viktor will never recover from. As such, making them more human and down-to-earth and imagining what they were like as people is going to be a pointless task, because that’s just not their narrative purpose.

One thing I would have liked to see more of?

I wanted something weird to happen with Nina’s tomb! Or like...more hints of her presence in the Polyhedron in p1? Some cool atmospheric shit? But I wouldn’t have wanted a full scene or flashback, I prefer her being an ideal.

#gods i both have thoughts about her #and don't have thoughts about her #it's such a strange arena to exist in LOL

10 notes · View notes

elusive---ivory · 5 years

Text

The Woman In Velvet pt 14

Oof, second to last chapter, boys. We all knew this was coming. A shoutout to @princessgeekface for being my editor through this process. You are wonderful 💕💕💕

PARING: Arthur Fleck x Oc

WARNING: Violence

Masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Taglist (I love you all so so much 💕💕):

@jaylovesbats @memory-mortis @gloomyladyy @mijachula @princessgeekface @radio-hoo-ha @lolacolaempath

"I'm not sure my wife would like that. Maybe my next wife." Murray's voice boomed on the stage.

Roaring of laughter came from the audience.

"You should see our next guest coming up. I'm pretty sure this guy could use a doctor." Murray commented.

"Oh? Does he have sexual problems?" Dr. Sally asked.

"I think he's got a lot of problems. Let's show that clip one last time." Murray said.

Arthur's clip played.

The audience ate it up, listening to Arthur's laughter in the clip.

Sandy rolled her eyes, looking over at Arthur, who was staring intently at the curtains.

Sandy stood back from the curtains, carefully watching Arthur's movements. The tech guys next to Arthur looked uncomfortable, and tried shuffling away.

"You might've seen that clip of our next guest. Now, before he comes out, I just wanted to say that we're all heartbroken about what's going on in the city tonight, but this is how he wanted to come out. I honestly believe we could all use a good laugh. So, please welcome Joker."

As the jazz band started, the curtains fell back, revealing Arthur. Arthur came onstage, dancing and twirling around.

Sandy watched from backstage. She looked over by the curtain, seeing Arthur's still lit cigarette. Sandy picked it up, taking a small puff, before distinguishing it.

Arthur shook Murray's hand, then headed over to Dr. Sally, who was just expecting a hug. He cupped Dr. Sally cheeks and kissed her passionately.

Sandy rolled her eyes, crossing her arms backstage.

Whistles and ahhs came from the audience.

Dr. Sally had a very shocked look on her face, as she sat back down.

"That was quite the entrance." Murray commented.

Arthur looked around at the scenery of it all.

Murray looked at Arthur, raising a comedic eyebrow. "You ok?"

"Yeah, this is exactly how I imagined it." Arthur replied.

"Well, that makes one of us." Murray joked.

Laughter and applause came from the audience.

Sandy continued watching from a small television backstage.

"So, could you tell us about this look? You said when we spoke earlier that this wasn't a political statement." Murray said, pointing out his makeup.

"That's right, Murray. I'm not political. I'm just trying to make people laugh." Arthur looked over to the audience, not one of them chuckling.

Sandy cracked a smile backstage.

"And how's that going for you?" Murray commented, again.

The audience once again roared with laughter.

Sandy's cracked smile turned into an angry frown.

Arthur mocked the audience's laughter with his own demented cackle.

"Tell us about your lady friend backstage. She's also dressed as apart of your act. Do you two got a thing going on?" Murray asked.

Sandy paused. Her eyebrows furrowed at the TV. She crossed her arms

Arthur smirked. "It's a little more than 'a thing'. She's my sweetheart. My dear, Sandy."

Awws and oohs came from the audience.

Murray laughed. "Ha. I've heard that one before."

The audience howled with laughter.

Sandy glared hard at the television. She wasn't laughing one bit. All of Murray's jokes were stale and just blatantly mean to Arthur.

"So you tell us you're a comedian. Got any new material? Wanna tell us a joke?" Murray asked, not sounding too pleasant.

The audience applauded.

"Yeah? Okay." Arthur took out his joke book.

"He's gotta book full of jokes." Murray commented.

Arthur flipped a few pages into his notebook.

Arthur paused for a second.

"Take your time. You got all night." Murray laughed.

"Okay, okay. Here's one, knock knock." Arthur said.

"And you had to look that up." Murray commented.

The audience laughed.

Sandy couldn't take the stress. She bit her thumb. She wanted to bash Murray's skull in, see if he was still joking about that.

"I wanna get it right." Arthur's voice was somber.

Sandy couldn't look. She turned her head away from the television.

"Knock, knock." Arthur repeated.

"Who's there?" Murray replied.

"It's the police, ma'am. Your son's been hit by a drunk driver. He's dead." Arthur chuckled.

A loud groan came from the audience.

Sandy laughed at Arthur's edgy joke. Two of the tech guys stared strangely at her. She smiled, watching the television.

"No, no, no. We do not joke about that." Dr. Sally scolded.

"Yeah, that's not funny, Arthur." Murray said.

Arthur chuckled, looking down. "Yeah, I'm sorry. It's just been a rough few weeks. Ever since I..."

Arthur trailed off. His eyes wandered over the audience.

"Ever since I killed those three wallstreet guys." Arthur said, quietly.

Murray looked around at the audience. "Okay, I'm waiting for the the punchline."

"There is no punchline. It's not a joke." Arthur's voice was monotonous. His eyes swelled up with sadness.

A loud gasp washed over the audience.

Sandy closed her eyes, taking a deep sigh. She couldn't help, but feel remorse in this moment. Remorse for Arthur. The tech guys stared at the TV in shock.

Murray gave Arthur a disgusted glare. "You're serious, aren't you? You're telling us you killed those three young men on the subway?"

"Mmhmm." Arthur mumbled.

Murray raised his eyebrow. "And why should we believe you?"

Arthur smirked, shrugging. "Got nothing left to lose. Nothing can hurt me anymore."

Arthur paused for a moment, before chuckling. "My life is nothing but a comedy."

Loud booes came from the audience.

Sandy smirked.

Murray shook his head. "So let me get this straight. You think killing those guys is funny?"

Arthur smacked his lips. "I do, and I'm tired of pretending it's not. Comedy is subjective, Murray. Isn't that what they say? All of you, the system that knows so much. You decide what's right or wrong. The same way you what's funny or not."

More booes and groans came from the audience.

Murray stuttered. "I think I might understand that you did this to start a movement, to become a symbol."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Come on, MurRay. Do I look like the kind of clown that could start a movement? I killed those guys because they were awful. Everybody is awful these days. It's enough to make anyone crazy."

Murray leaned back in his chair. "So, that's it you're crazy? That's your defense for killing three young men."

Arthur smirked, widely. "No. They couldn't carry a tomb to save their lives."

Sandy laughed loudly from backstage. The two tech guys were glued to the screen, cautious of the lady in front of them.

Arthur smiled, hearing Sandy's laughter from backstage.

More booes and groans followed the audience.

Arthur dramatically rolled his eyes. "Oh, why are people so upset about these guys? If it was me dying on the sidewalk, you'd walk all over me. I PASS you every day, and you DON'T notice me. Oh, but these guys, because Thomas Wayne went and cried about them on TV."

Sandy could hear the pain and tension in his voice. Arthur was at his breaking point. Seeing him like this broke Sandy's heart. A black tear ran down her face. She cracked a smile, holding it all together.

Murray continued pushing his questions. "So, you've got a problem with Thomas Wayne?"

Arthur nodded his head, vigorously. "Yes, I do."

Arthur turned his head towards Murray.

"Have you seen what it's like out there, MurRay? Do you ever actually leave the studio? Everybody just yells and screams at each other. Nobody's civil ANYMORE! Nobody THINKS what it's like to be the other guy. You think men like Thomas Wayne ever think about what it's like to be someone like me. To be somebody, but themselves. They DON'T. They think we'll just sit there and take it like GOOD LITTLE BOYS and we won't WEREWOLF and go WILD."

Sandy's eyes widened, as she covered her mouth to silent her laughing sobs. She never seen this much pain coming from just one man. The techs seemed to get invested with Arthur's big speech.

Murray his head. "Are you finished? There's so much self pity, Arthur. It's almost like you're making excuses for killing those three men. What about your sweetheart, huh, Sandy? She's not awful, right? Not everyone, and I'll tell you this, not everyone is awful."

Arthur glared at Murray. "You're awful, Murray."

"Me? I'm awful? How am I awful?" Murray said, defensively.

Arthur's green ocean eyes glared menacingly at Murray. "Playing my video. Inviting me on the show. You just wanted to make fun of me. You're just like the rest of them."

Murray scoffed. "You don't know the first thing about me, pal. Look what happened because of what you did. What it led to. Two officers are in critical condition because of what you did."

Arthur started laughing with a gentle tear rolling down his face.

"And you're laughing. You're laughing. Someone was killed today because of what you did."

Arthur kept nodding and smiling. "I know. How about another joke, MurRay."

Murray shook his head. "No, I think we've had enough of your jokes."

"What do you get when you cross a mentally ill loner with a SOCIETY that ABANDONS him and treats him like TRASH? I'll tell you what you get. YOU GET WHAT YOU FUCKING DESERVE."

Arthur pulled out the gun, shooting Murray in the head.

The audience ran screaming in terror.

Arthur laughed to himself. Getting up, he shot Murray a second time in the chest

Sandy and the techs witnessed the horror firsthand. Sandy ran out onto the stage.

"Arthur." Sandy screamed.

Arthur walked up to the camera.

"Goodnight, and always remember. That's life."

Arthur was promptly tackled by security.

#joker arthur fleck #joker x reader #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x oc #joker x oc #the woman in velvet

27 notes · View notes

omi-ohmyimagination · 5 years

Text

Newspaper girl

Themes: Historical AU (kind of), Mature, Smut, Romance, Optional Bias x Female Reader

Word count: ~9,2k

Description: With all the drinking and fun at night one can forget what really matters. Even if you don't want to admit it, you got lost, too. But maybe a mysterious man who came to town one day can bring you happiness again.

OMI’s note: I'm know you've waited long time for this, so without further ado, here's my new baby. The research I did wasn't enough, I guess and I can't really put it under "1930s" tag but overall I'm still satisfied with the whole story.

A strong smell of cigarettes made you hold your breath for a second in surprise. Every corner of a bar was filled with thick, gray smoke. However, it seemed not to bother anyone inside. Sounds of conversations, laughter and loud jazzy music spread around the room, summoning new people in. People hungry for fun and simple, frivolous acts of entertainment.

It was hard to move between the sea of sweaty bodies. You brushed over someone's figure and before the man had a chance to say something, you murmured quick sorry and moved as far as possible. You weren't there to start any kind of argument with a drunk bastard who was probably cheating on his “beloved” wife in that exact moment. You wanted to see an argument or maybe even fight today, that was true, but you prefered not to be the one responsible for its happening nor take part in it.

As soon as you reached the counter, you waved your hand to a bartender and sneaked to stairs hidden behind him. You were one of the few people who had an access to a balcony, the calmest place in the bar, and you thanked the god for your connections because looking from a far at people was a lot simpler. And definitely more safer.

Your heels slid across a red carpet spreaded on the wooden stairs, creating almost no sound. Your hand landed on a cold metal of a rail. Shivers ran through your fingers. As you reached the balcony, whole new scenery unfurled in front of you – creamy walls, heavy curtains and men dressed in expensive suits. Women, both in fancy dresses and a little too exposing attires, accompanied them, laughing at every unfunny joke just so they would look like they are more open than they in fact were. The only thing similar, maybe even exactly the same, was the amount of smoke flowing in the air.

You moved to the only free table across the balcony, where a richly looking piece of paper with your nickname written on it was laid. Some of the people you walked past by greeted you politely, probably hoping that they wouldn't become your next target. Their heads turned from time to time to watch what you were doing, whispering in an uncomfortable manner. They were visibly stressed because of your person, and you were sure that they wished that their night full of questionable types of fun wouldn't be disturbed. After all, no one wanted to read about themselves in an article in the biggest newspaper in town.

As soon as you sat down a waitress appeared, bringing you your usual order – café. You spent so much time at Pearl surrounded by drunkards who had offered you drinks many times that you were amazed by the fact you didn't become one of them. You've never drank much and people seemed surprised by this.

You looked around – people relaxed a bit after their initial fear, they get back to drinking and laughing. It was always like this, they knew that without anything interesting from their side, they wouldn't appear in the article. You didn't care about boring stuff. Who would like to read about it anyway?

You were about to lean over the rail when someone sat beside you.

“Hunting again?”

“It's not hunting, mister Li, it's work.”

The man took a sip of his drink and laughed loudly. “Work, you say? I wouldn't call it like that.”

“You know I don't care, right?”

“Of course. But...” Sounds of surprised gasps from below interrupted him. You glanced down and noticed young man dressed in richly looking clothes heading from door to the counter. His moves were full of confidence and he didn't even spare a glance at shocked people around him.

You stared at him with growing curiosity. He was definitely not from town, your first though was that he was visiting someone but you dropped that immediately. He wouldn't have been there alone.

With dissatisfaction you took a look at people in the bar. Similar to you they were interested in the man however, they seemed... intimidated, scared perhaps. You leaned over the rail a bit more, trying to hear what they were talking about but the music was too loud. However, people at the balcony started chatting with each other, not caring that you were near.

“Do you know who is this?”

“Not at all and I'm not sure if I want to know.”

“Me too, he makes me... uncomfortable? He didn't even looked at us and I feel like I don't belong here.”

“I thought I was the only one.”

“He's handsome.”

Everyone went silent for a moment. “But he's also weirdly scary. I'm embarrassed and I don't understand why.”

You glanced at the stranger once again and locked eyes with him. Shivers ran down your spine but you couldn't stop staring at him. It felt like you were doing something forbidden. Smirk appeared at his lips and he nodded. You automatically did the same but as soon as you've realized that, you turned your gaze the other way. Your cheeks became hot.

Out of nowhere mister Li showed up besides you.

“It seems like you're the prey now,” he laughed, looking downstairs.

“And you're the idiot who thinks I care about his poor attempt at flirting with me.”

He squeezed the glass he was holding. The vein on his forehead became prominent as he got more red. “I hope that you will finally regret everything you did,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“I already regret a lot.”

Saturday, 20th of May

Unexpected, but strangely oh-so-welcomed, guest in Pearl

Surprised gasps that left mouths of a few women at the bar announced his arrival. Every head turned in a direction where he stood, every person situated at the balcony leaned over the rail. No one knew what was happening but one thing was sure at that very moment – the “newspaper girl” that terrified them with her ability to see and remember everything was not on their mind anymore that night. Maybe even next nights too.

“He” is their main attraction from now on.

The mysterious man dressed in fitted, white polo shirt and trousers in the deepest black color you could imagine drew everyone's attention. His identity is still unknown for all guests in Pearl, even our omniscient “newspaper girl” has no idea who the handsome guy is.

But not only his appearance raised voices at the bar. His attitude was more than fascinating. You could say that he was oozing with confidence and something like superiority. He made you feel like you truly did not belong to that high-class of people enjoying their nights accompanied by alcohol and girls in skimpy clothes. You may think that this privilege – yes, privilege arising from your social status – is what you deserve, what world prepared just for you but that man proved us wrong in a matter of second. He is the true “child of the universe” whether you like it or not.

Truly interesting persona.

He sparked a debate among guests in Pearl which was not really something they wanted to think about that Friday night. It was supposed to be their fun time not time to worry about their positions. He made them anxious and it seemed that they did not like that.

However, curiosity is bigger than fear.

So, will you come to see that man?

Will you suppress that awful feeling of panic inside you?

“Newspaper girl” is definitely going to monitor the situation for all of you. Especially for those who are too scared.

You put the newspaper back on the table and reached for a cup filled with strong, black café. The liquid slid down your throat and bitter taste of it made you sighed with content. You looked around with smile full of pride, enjoying the scenery before your eyes – every person at the restaurant had their own copy of the newspaper and with flushed cheeks they discussed the article. It was amazing how event as simple as that one – someone new appearing in town – could spark so much emotions. Was it because of the beauty of the stranger or his attitude? You were yet to find an answer to this.

“Can I have a moment of your time, miss?” You glanced up at small middle-aged woman with question written all over your face. You nodded, encouraging her to speak. “You're newspaper girl, right?”

“Yes. How can I help you?”

She sat on the chair beside you and grabbed your hand. “Oh, can you pass my message to the author of that article? I was at Pearl yesterday and that text is so accurate! Those feelings... it was so weird! I couldn't understand why I felt that way and they came with logical explanation. I enjoyed it so much!”

You laughed half proud and half uncomfortable. “No problem, I will tell them this.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” She stood up and was ready to go back to her own table, when she turned around and said, “And thank you, of course. Without you there wouldn't be any material for those articles.”

Taking praises wasn't something you were good at. You enjoyed the fact that people liked all your texts but prefered to look at their happiness and excitement instead of hearing their declarations of love. You weren't able to count how many times they expressed their desire to meet V, there was even a case where one man wanted to proposed to her. Funny, taking into consideration the fact that no one really knew if V was actually a woman. They were so clueless. Sometimes you envied them, you wished to be as oblivious as they were.

You reached for the cup once again and noticed that someone sat on the other side of the table where just a seconds before the woman was situated. You glanced up and coughed dramatically when you realized who you were looking at.

The mysterious man from Pearl.

His eyes scanned you attentively and sly smirk stretched his lips shortly after. He was truly intimidating, making you feel more uncomfortable than you were yesterday. He seemed to be aware of this, what's more, he was clearly enjoying it.

“So you're the one who wrote that article about me.” His voice was unexpectedly smooth, honey-like sweet and coated in a mystery. He took out a pack of cigarettes from a pocket of his jacket, lit one and drew on it deeply. White smoke danced around him gracefully.

You tilted your head to the side and looked suggestively at the box with cigarettes laid on the table. Your companion laughed and offered you one. He extended his hand and lit it up. “Well mister, you are mistaken. I'm just an informant.”

“Are you saying that there is someone else behind it?” For the fist time he looked confused. Just a little bit confused but still.

“Exactly, I just provide information. Some says that I'm Pearl's eyes and ears and there might be something to this.”

He clearly tried to figure out whether you were lying or not. However, your face was like a blank canvas, you couldn't give yourself away.

Truly interesting man, definitely a lot more intelligent than people around you.

“And who is it exactly?”

“Why do you need to know?”

“I would like to meet that person and talk to them a bit. I'm simply interested.”

You laughed genuinely entertained. “You're not the only person with such wish. Sadly, it's not possible. V doesn't want to reveal her identity.”

“How about you? Do you want to tell me your name,” he asked suddenly, surprising you.

“My... name?”

“Yes, everyone has name after all. Mine, if you want to know, is B/N.”

“Okay B/N, nice to meet you. Although, I didn't need that information. But if you insist, you can address me as newspaper girl.”

He frowned now clearly bewildered. “People in this town really love secrets, huh?”

“You're not from here then.” It was more like a statement rather than question.

“No, I'm here for business purposes. And I don't know why but I feel like I'm going to have a hard week.”

“Oh, I'm sure of it. You're the biggest attraction for them and I'm ready to report all of your moves,” you said with a smile. It sounded bad, you yourself knew it, but that was sad reality – someone's life and privacy was your money.

“Should I make it easier for you? I didn't plan to go to Pearl tonight but now I may consider it.”

You stood up with a smirk, finished your coffee and came closer to him. Your hand landed on his shoulder. “See you later then.”

You slowly sipped your drink, spinning a pen in your hand. You were obviously waiting for B/N. Just like every other person at Pearl. Everyone was sitting at the edge of their chairs, looking with hope at the door. Even though he made them uncomfortable their curiosity was too strong. He was like a drug – you knew you shouldn't play with them yet if you tried them they pulled you to them again. The atmosphere was drastically different than during any other nights and it wasn't hard to see it. Music was forgotten, no one really wanted to dance at time like this, there were no laughs, no conversations in raised voices, only whispers and anticipation.

You, however, was awaiting events that were near. You didn't need to question whether B/N would come or not, you knew he would. You kind of challenged him and he seemed like someone who wouldn't like to lose. No matter what.

Sudden commotion downstairs made you leaned over the rail. As soon as you glanced at the entrance your eyes met with his. You smirked pleased with how predictable he was. In response he chuckled, shaking his head. He definitely understood that his decision wasn't really his, that he lost at the moment when he proposed to come to Pearl.

Or maybe that was his plan from the beginning and you were the one that lost to him?

You followed his every move with sharp eye, and you were not the only one to do this. Everyone's attention was set on him. Just as if he didn't care – which was probably true – B/N sat beside the counter and ordered a drink. He was looking at you full of interest, it was almost like his eyes were glued to you. It was annoying and uncomfortable.

In the corner of your eye you noticed that one of dancers was approaching B/N. She was swaying her hips and didn't even try to hide the fact that she adjusted her boobs in the fitted dress. She sat beside him and put her hand on his thigh. You leaned against the rail with satisfaction. People of town didn't disappoint you once again.

B/N looked at her with slight disgust. “How can I help you?” His voice was muffled by sounds of music but this time you were able to understand the words more clearly.

“You can help me in many various ways,” she said in flirty tone. B/N glanced at you and rolled his eyes. You giggled, not even trying to look serious.

“Such as?”

“Maybe drink first?”

“Why do you think I will do this?”

She blinked a few times confused. “What?”

“I asked...”

“I heard your question but I don't understand it.” She moved her hand back.

“It's not really that surprising, to be honest.” You choked completely stunned. He was shameless to the core.

The girl stood up and slapped B/N. Silence filled the bar. “You jerk,” she screamed and ran out. B/N massaged his cheek, finished his drink and headed to the exit.

Sunday, 21st of May

Was it really necessary?

Yesterday will be remembered by every Pearl's guest. Especially by our young and beautiful dancer, Luna. Judging by her sudden leave, that night did not turn out how she wanted.

But let me start from the beginning.

The anticipation of his arrival was so strong that you could have felt it on your skin. Everyone was looking at the entrance with shaky hands.

Excitation and stress.

Curiosity and fear.

Truly amazing impact.

When he finally arrived the atmosphere became even more suffocating. No one knew what to expect. And what happened shortly after he appeared was definitely the last thing they could have thought about.

Poor girl. She just wanted to have some fun with handsome stranger. However, he wasn't interested. Well, that is a huge understatement. He humiliated her in front of everyone and a slap he received in exchange was deserved.

Such a lack of moral spine.

Does he really feel so superior to us?

Was that harsh comment necessary?

And the most important, what will be the consequences?

“I can't believe he turned out to be such a scumbag.” A girl on the nearest bench closed the newspaper and throw it beside her. She turned to her friend and crossed her legs. “Handsome men are the worst.”

“Well... he didn't lie,” said the other one in a mocking tone. They looked at each other and burst into laughter almost immediately. Your brows raised slightly in disbelieve. So after all, people didn't have any sympathy for that girl. You felt bad for her, no matter what she was like he didn't have any right to talk to her like that. Was he always like this? Good question.

You raised your head and enjoyed sun that warmed your skin. Wind blew your hair all over your face and you put them behind the ear annoyed. It was hot, too hot for your liking but it was better to be outside than sit alone closed in four walls.

“So we meet once again. I might think that it's destiny.” You opened your eyes and saw B/N in front of you. You laughed at his comment.

“You're not good at thinking, huh? Just as Luna, right?”

“And who's Luna,” he asked, sitting next to you. You moved away from him a little bit.

“The girl from yesterday. The one you made fun of.”

“Oh.” He scratched his neck somewhat troubled. “I don't... well, I don't like such pushy girls. I'm not gonna go to bed with someone whose name I don't even know.”

“You didn't give her a chance to introduce herself,” you pointed out.

“That's because I wasn't interested at her.”

“You have such high standards?”

“I don't know, you tell me. If I'm interested in you, does it mean that I have high standards?”

You blinked a few times confused. Did you hear that correctly? His mouth stretched in playful smile that also reached his eyes, making them shine prettily in morning sun.

“Are you... flirting with me?”

“Of course I do,” he laughed and leaned closer to you, “Should I stop?”

You felt your cheeks getting hotter with every second. His eyes were glued to you, as if he was searching for an answer, which he probably found in the redness of your face. With satisfaction he straightened up and looked at the sky.

“Can I ask you something?” He glanced at you. You nodded your head, unable to say anything. “Does V leave any parts of information you give her?”

You raised your eyebrows even more baffled than before. “What do you mean?”

“There's a huge part of yesterday's event missing in her new article. She didn't mention anything about the fact that I was too occupied looking at you to care about that girl Luna. And that's pretty important thing, in my opinion. Did she miss that part or it was you who thought that it wasn't necessary?”

You looked at his sly smirk and madness in you started to deepen. He knew the answer already, he just wanted you to admit to omitting this information. And you weren't satisfy with this, you didn't want to play his game even though it was kind of tempting. You stood up. “She probably decided that it has nothing to do with your rudeness. Now, sorry but I have other things to do.”

You were already few meters away from him when you heard his voice, “Can you have a drink with me tonight?”

You turned around and answered in the most playful tone, “I don't drink at work.”

When you entered Pearl, B/N was already situated at the bar with a glass full of brown liquid in hand. He glanced at you and smile spreaded across his lips. He raised an arm slightly and waved, inviting you to join him. You shook your head and went upstairs, trying to ignore all the looks that people gave you. It must have been pretty interesting for them – handsome stranger that was the hottest news in town being friendly with dangerous informant. They probably didn't understand that situation at all and it made them even more curious. Which, in the process, made you person of interest again.

You sat at your usual table and scratched your neck uncomfortable. Did he not understand the situation he put you in? Or did he not care about it? You weren't supposed to be a part of news you reported, that was your golden rule. However, because of his weird interest in you that rule was shattered into pieces.

You took a big sip of a café that the waitress brought you and tried to calm yourself down.

“Do you know him personally, Miss,” a man situated at the next table asked you. His eyes scanned your face from behind the curtain of cigarette's smoke.

“No, not really. I know as such as all of you here,” you answered with polite smile.

“It looks differently to me.”

“Well, what can I say? Who knows what's inside his head.”

That was exactly what you were scared of – people became intrigued. It annoyed you, that was true, but you could have handle it. Your only hope was that your true identity would stay secret.

“Where the fuck is that piece of shit?!” A man's scream echoed through the bar. Just as everybody else you peaked behind the rail and noticed a muscular man at the entrance and Luna hidden behind him. “Where is he?” The girl pointed at B/N with victorious smile and leaned on the door. When the guy came closer you recognized him as Luna's brother, Yoon, and you already knew what was about to happen. Without a second thought, you walked downstairs and stopped near the counter. “Who do you think you are?”

“I could ask you the same question.” B/N put his glass down and stood up.

“Aren't you too cocky? Don't you know why I'm here?”

“To kick my ass, I assume. But if I were you, I would take care of my sister first.”

Complete silence filled the space. It was almost like people around them stopped breathing.

“What does it even mean?” A vein on his neck was pulsating furiously.

“So you're telling me you're okay with your sister sleeping around with random men?”

Luna's brother didn't say a word. His fist met B/N's face with such impact that he second one almost lost his balance. Shocked scream left your mouth and you met eyes with B/N. He smirked at you and caressed his red cheek.

Before you registered what was happening, B/N hit him back. Yoon tripped over a chair and landed on the floor. The guy cursed under his nose and stood up as fast as he could. “You're worse than I thought.”

“It's not even half of what I'm capable of.” You shuddered at the tone of B/N's voice. It was ice-cold, hard and scary. It was almost like he became a totally different person out of nowhere. He came closer to Luna's brother and whispered through clenched teeth, “Do you want to go out of here on your own legs?”

“You're quite sure of your strength, huh?”

“Try me. And I promise you, you will regret this.”

Just a few minutes ago you reminded yourself that you would never be a part of something like this, yet your feet carried you between two men. You didn't think about it at all, you couldn't even understand what you were doing.

You put your hand on B/N's chest and pushed him a bit. They both looked at you confused. “If you really want to kill each other, maybe you should take it somewhere else. Besides,” you turned to B/N, “don't be such a jerk, and you, you should take care of your sister better. We all know what she's doing behind your back."

Luna appeared behind her brother and pulled him towards her. “Let's go.”

“What are they talking about?”

“It doesn't matter, Yoon. It's bullshit.” You laughed genuinely entertained. “Can we talk about it at home?”

“Oh, we will.” He grabbed her by the arm and almost dragged her out of the bar.

You followed them with your eyes and finally released the air you held. Why did you do it? What were you thinking? Were you even thinking? You put yourself in a centre of people's attention.

Out of nowhere you felt hot breath on your ear. “Are you worried about me?”

Just then you realised that your hand was still on B/N's chest, and that he was a lot closer than you previously thought. You froze, unable to breathe again. You glanced behind you and swallowed loudly. His eyes were set on your lips which where unexpectedly and dangerously close to his. His smell surrounded you like a fine mist of rain. Your heart speeded up.

Without looking behind, you ran out of the bar.

Monday, 22nd of May

What a surprise!

Knowing how hot-blooded Luna's brother, Yoon, is, we probably all expected some kind of intense situation. And indeed it happened. However, the situation was much more interesting, to say the least.

Luna's absence after previous night was a sign. When she finally appeared at Pearl, she was accompanied by furious Yoon who was shouting from the top of his lungs. As soon as noticed his target, fists flew around meeting the soft skin on both men's faces.

It was highly anticipated. Some thought it was deserved, some that Luna's behaviour led to this and she was the one to be blamed in the first place. What is more, her brother seemed to not know how his precious little sister acts on a daily basis. Maybe he should care about her more.

The atmosphere inside the bar was heavy. Even worse than nights' before. Cold, scary but thrilling.

How would events played out, if our dear “newspaper girl” didn't step in between fighting men? Would blood be spilled?

We will never know since someone lost their patience and acted like a fool.

That surprise was not necessary.

Maybe I should remind her to stay in the line? After all, it was not supposed to be about her.

Head of an older man peaked from behind the opened newspaper that he held in his hands. “Y/N, I love you.”

“Okay, boss,” you laughed, sitting comfortably in the chair. “What have I done to deserve such confession?”

“What? Are you serious? Those articles are the best. People are fighting for every new copy of this paper,” he waved it in front of your face, “and it's all because of you, my precious child!”

“I would say it's thanks to B/N but I'm fine with your reasoning, too.”

Mr. Han looked at the text one more time, then put it down and folded his hands under his chin. “I must say that today's piece is especially clever. You're basically making joke of yourself. Is it because you don't want to be seen as a part of this?”

“How do you know me so well, Mr. Han?” Your laugh echoed through his office once again.

He shook his head with a warm smile on lips. “You need to know that it worked. All of editors were quite concerned about newspaper girl. It seems that they don't like the idea of V being mad at you. However, I have a one question.”

“Yes,” you asked when he didn't say anything more.

“Why did you do it? Why did you stop them?”

The smile fell off your lips. “I... I can't really explain it. I don't know.”

“I heard a bit more about yesterday's night and maybe I have some theory. But I'm sure you will figure out soon what I meant.” Your puzzled expression made him burst in laugh with such power that his desk jumped a little. You wanted to ask what he heard exactly but a knock on the door stopped you. “Come in.”

“Boss, can I take Y/N already? You can't keep her here all day,” one of your colleagues, Mina, whined, leaning on the door frame.

“Sure, I think we finished talking.”

As soon as you stood up, Mina grabbed your hand and dragged you out of Mr. Han's office. Her blonde hair smacked your face but she didn't even notice it. She led you to one of the rooms and pushed you on the chair. “I have a few things to show you, my dear, but firstly, is she really mad at you?”

You took a deep breath, trying to act as if you were sad. “Yeah, she scolded me quite badly. Now I see that it wasn't the best idea to stop them and, if something like this happen one more time, I won't do this again. I don't want to see her so mad once more.”

“Oh my god, why the hell did you do this?”

“Well... would you like to look at people fighting and do nothing about it? I know news like that are valuable but come on, I still have some humanity in me,” you answered, knowing that you try to convince yourself more than her actually. You wished that that was the reason behind your stupid behaviour.

“Too bad V can't understand this. Okay, let's leave it. Instead, look what I found about our handsome stranger,” she squealed, handing you a newspaper. “It's a magazine from my friend. She bought it abroad because that guy on the photo was hot and turned out that it's him.”

You looked at the first page and your heart skipped a bit. There he was, with perfectly styled hair, in richly looking black suit, and his face. Oh lord, cold, heavenly sculpted face with piercing gaze that made you clenched your legs unconsciously. You couldn't focus of anything besides his eyes. Why he made you feel things that you've never experienced? It was similar to yesterday's situation – you were scared but also weirdly turned on by that fear.

You glanced at the text under the photo, trying to ignore the burning feeling in your mouth.

“B/F/N is a young businessman who took our market by surprise. Not only he is extremely handsome and popular with women but also has head on his shoulders. And it is not just any type of head – B/N knows what he is doing. He quickly became one of the richest in country just by knowing in what he should invest. It seems that he is not here to play games, he came to take all money that he can. And weirdly we are not mad at him. Let us see what else he has up in his sleeve.”

“So he's a businessman, huh,” you murmured, looking at Mina again.

“Yep, my friend said that he was quite huge there. And there were a lot of rumours about him.”

“For example,” you asked genuinely interested. More information about B/N meant more peace of mind for you.

“He's known for having... a lot women in a short time span. You know, typical casanova. She heard that he even slept with a married woman which then led to her murder.”

“That's actually...,” you started but Mina interrupted you.

“I know what you're thinking but listen, people also said that he's... violent, to put it simply. There were rumours about him hiring some individuals to beat and... kill his rivals. And wait, I'm not telling you this so you can pass it to V but I want you to be careful around him. I heard that you both act friendly with each other and I assumed that you should know that.”

You blinked a few times. Shock spread through your body and you scratched your cheek. So he wasn't joking yesterday? Was he ready to do something serious to Yoon? Did you actually saved him?

You wished that those information would ease your fear but now? You were even more scared.

And annoyingly intrigued.

You were drinking second cup of cafe and trying hard not to smashed it across the bar. B/N didn't come yet and it seemed that he wouldn't come at all. You were probably the only person inside Pearl not satisfied with this. You were boiling with anger and you weren't exactly sure why.

The only thing you were sure about was the fact that you wanted to see him.

On the other hand, people at Pearl were celebrating. They were finally free, they were able to do everything without thinking how B/N would react.

For the first time in a few days music, laughter and dances ruled over the whole area.

You stood up and left the bar.

Tuesday, 23rd of May

Back to old days?

Last night was like a breath of fresh air for most of the guests in Pearl. They were finally able to play, fool around and drink to the maximum. They were full of life and joy, carefree with light hearts.

Why?

Because B/N did not show up.

You may be wondering why that happened.

Personally, I have my guesses and I will gladly share them with you.

Maybe his face was not in the best condition and his pride could have been hurt.

Or he did not want to be punched again.

Or maybe, just maybe, he is done with our town and all those people looking at him all the time with mixed feelings and expectations.

Will we see him again?

Who knows?

“Yerim, I think I'm crazy,” you said, playing with a bottle of her perfume.

“Why?” She fixed her hair then stood up and headed to a rack with beautiful dresses. She picked the most revealing one in a bright red color and started to put in on.

“You read my article, right?” She nodded without looking at you. “I was writing it and I broke... around three pencils? I was mad as fuck. And it's all because of B/N. I wanted to see him yesterday, check if he was all right and he didn't come.”

“Are you into him?”

“I wouldn't...” Yerim glanced at you with raised eyebrows. “Yeah, probably... And the fact that he's also interested in my is not helping.”

Yerim sat down and took stockings out of the drawer. “So what are waiting for?”

“What do you mean?”

She sighed deeply. “Don't play dumb. You both look like you want to fuck each other, so what's the problem? Besides, I think I've heard that he's going back to his country around Friday so even if you end up in bed together, you won't see him anymore after that.”

“I don't know, Yerim.”

“You have nothing to lose, sweety. And I feel like you need some... relaxation,” she smiled innocently, fixing her dress. “Do I look good?”

You looked carefully at her. “You do, as always.”

“Thank you. Back to the previous topic, think about it. In my opinion, you need some fun. And he's ready to help you. Is there anything stopping you? No. So go for it.”

“Maybe you're right.” You stood up and followed her through long corridor leading to the main hall of Pearl. Her heels clicked on a wooden floor in an even pattern and her hair bounced with every step. She looked great even from behind.

As soon as you entered the bar, you ran into someone. You looked up and met B/N's eyes. His hand found its way around your waist somehow and you didn't move.

“Hey, nice to see you again” he said with a smile.

Even though you heard him, your brain didn't register what exactly he said. Your eyes scanned his face and bruise that was on it. It covered part of his cheek and jaw, and started to change color to slightly bluish. You reached out your hand and brushed his skin with care.

“Does it hurt?” Your fingers traced the outline of the bruise, weirdly fascinated by its pattern.

“Not really.”

You put a little bit of pressure to your touch. B/N hissed in pain. “How about now?”

He smirked, pulling you closer to him. “Are you enjoying it?”

“You said that, not me. Come, if I remember correctly, you sort of promised to buy me a drink.” You turned around with a smile and tugged him behind you. When you reached the bar, you pushed him on to the chair and sat against him. You crossed your legs, touching his knee with yours in the process.

That whole situation was probably highly interesting for all guests in Pearl – you, someone who always watched them silently from the corner with curious eyes, were sitting with your target and sipping drink with him. Probably most of them thought that it was some kind of a plan which would grant you thrilling information for V's article. The truth was... you didn't know what you were doing. You just wanted to spend some time with him, enjoy his presence and relax a bit.

“I thought you don't drink at work,” he said finally, looking at you with curiosity. “Is it a trap or something?”

You leaned forward. “Well, no but let them think that's the case.”

“So why are doing this?”

“Maybe I'm kind of fascinated and I want to know you better.”

“I like that answer.” B/N took a sip of his whiskey and poked you with his feet. “Are you curious about something specific?”

You placed your hand near his knee and pretended to think about his question for a minute. “I am but I'm not sure if it's a good idea to even ask about those things.”

“I see that rumours about me reached this town, too. You can be sure that I'm not going to hurt you or fuck you. Unless you want me to,” he said with a smirk.

You choked on the drink, shocked but still amazed. “Are you telling me that those were true?”

“You're ignoring the last part of what I said.”

“Same with you. About what you've said... we can talk about it later.”

“The fact that you're considering it is enough for me. And answering your question, some of them are true but I'm not gonna tell you which one.” He kept quiet for a while, swirling his drink in the glass. “How about you, newspaper girl? Are you finally willing to tell me your name?”

You blinked a few times. You forgot that you never told him your name which made you burst in laugh. People looked in you direction but you ignored them. “Y/N.”

“Y/N.” The way your name left his mouth made you shudder. It sounded weirdly appealing. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

“Ow, cheesy. Do other women fall for it?”

He laughed again. The sound was so pleasing that smile appeared on your lips, too. Even though his words were nothing but danger, he seemed cute.

“How did you become the newspaper girl?”

You took a deep breath and focused your gaze on the brown liquid in your hand. “My friend got me into this. I always loved watching people since I'm not that good with them myself. And I remember a lot of details. Details people normally don't even see. She needed someone who would give her information, someone who would be her eyes and ears. And that's exactly who I became.”

“So that's all happened because of V.”

“No, not her. She's... not my friend. I've started working with V around a year ago when Sohee left the country with her husband.”

“It seems like you're not on good terms with V.” His eyes were focused on you with so much intensity that you turned your head the other way, scared that he would sense something.

“She doesn't care about people's emotions. She loves the drama and I'm tired of it, to be honest.” That wasn't really a lie. You indeed felt overwhelmed with everything and the only person you could have blamed was you yourself. After so many years of invading people's privacy for entertainment of others you finally became exhausted. Despite your undeniable success, you weren't happy anymore. “Sometimes I wish I could leave everything and start a new life but they will never forget who I was.”

“Maybe you should leave this town?”

“And where I will go, huh?”

“I can help you if you want.” B/N's finger traced circles on your hand. His touch was warm and soothing. You closed your eyes. “You don't need to stay here.”

“Your offers are very tempting, B/N.”

His hand travelled higher, up to your elbow and he pressed on one of your veins. “Yet you're not convinced to them. Should I try something else?”

“Like what for example?”

B/N leaned closer to you. His face was so close that you felt his breath on your skin. Your heart skipped a beat and you were unable to move. When he opened his lips they almost touched yours. “What if I kiss you right now?”

The sound of laugh from your right reminded you where were you. You moved back, almost falling down from your chair. People's eyes were focused on both of you. Their sly smiles made you sick. You stood up.

“It's time for me. Thanks for the drink. And for your propositions. I will think about them.”

“Wait.” He grabbed your wrist. “Do you really need to go?”

You glanced at him with sadness. You wanted to stay, you did but you were so uncomfortable that breathing became too hard. “I'm sorry.”

Wednesday, 24th of May

Do not forget your place

B/N's charming aura enchanted every person in town. No one was able to resist it, it seems. Even our “newspaper girl” became his victim. What a joke!

If you think that I have thrilling news for you, you are wrong. She was useless yesterday, and if it was not for someone else's kindness I would not know what happened last night.

And what exactly happened? They both were so deep into conversation that they did not notice how much people laughed at “newspaper girl”. Oh and they did. It was almost like they forgot that they were not alone.

Such a stupid child.

You probably want to hear more but I have nothing to tell you.

Maybe I should find a new informer?

When you entered Pearl there were only few people inside. It was early morning and that was the first time you've ever been there so early. You ordered a drink from a confused bartender and drank it at once.

That whole situation was so hilarious – you made fun of yourself in the new article, and even though you were ready to leave, you still did it because of your fear of people finding out V's true identity. You were indeed stupid. All this time everything was fine, you felt satisfied and proud of your work, and then B/N appeared and ruined everything. He shattered your believes into pieces.

Moreover, he made you feel things you've never felt before. He pulled you to himself like a magnet. He was dangerous, that was undeniable, but it was also so arousing. Everytime you though about him your mind became clouded, heart sped up and heat blew inside you. You wanted him and you were ready to admit to it.

You laughed, finishing another glass of whiskey.

“What's so funny?” You turned around and locked eyes with B/N.

“Me,” you said, standing up. You put your hand on his chest and looked up at his lips. They were so tempting. “Are your offers still valid?”

He pulled you close to him. “Even more than yesterday.”

The way to B/N's hotel room was like a way through a fog, you didn't remember how you got there but it wasn't important. You only cared about the feeling of his arms around your waist, his persistent lips on yours and overpowering sensation between your legs. When he pushed you on the wall, breath left your lungs suddenly. You didn't even have a chance to take another one because his mouth were back on yours in a matter of seconds. He was rough, close to violent but it was more than arousing. His tangled in your hair fingers pulled you even closer to his hot body. You felt dizzy, white dots played under your eyelids from the lack of oxygen. You pressed at his chest, trying to free yourself, and he backed off a little. You gasped for air as if you were drowning and that was your last chance to take a breath.

He leaned closer and licked your lips, leaving trace of drool on them. “You still taste like whiskey.”

You grabbed him by the belt and turned him so that he was pressed to the wall now. Your fingers sneaked under the hem of his shirt and scratched his abdomen. He growled lowly, pulling your hair once again and kissed you with the same power as before. Your teeth clashed and you unconsciously digged your nails into the soft skin on his body. Your tongues danced together in perfect synchronization, and every touch left tingling feeling.

You didn't even noticed when he guided you to the bed until you softly landed on top of it. Your hand slipped from under his shirt and moved past his growing erection. He shuddered under your touch, making you clench your thighs together in response.

You wanted him, you wanted him as fast as possible.

As if he read your mind, or rather because he felt the same way, he took off his shirt almost ripping it in the process. Your fingers grabbed his belt in rush in an unsuccessful attempt to undo it. He laughed, looking at you, and took your hand in his.

“What,” you whined, glancing up.

“Maybe we should slow down?”

“But I want you.” Your voice was unexpectedly innocent even though your words weren't. B/N groaned and pulled you up. You were pressed to his naked chest and the only thing you wished for was to get rid of that damn dress. You pushed one sleeve down your shoulder, trying to signal that you want him to take it off for you. He helped you with a smirk plastered across his lips, and when you were left in only panties and stockings his grin disappeared. His eyes were full of hunger and he licked his dry lips. He didn't move even the slightest, captivated by the sight of you in front of him.

Impatiently, you shortly palmed his cock, taking in how veins on his neck pulsated aggressively. But you backed off soon after, sit down and took off your underwear, spreading your legs to the side. The speed in which he dropped to his knees made you blinked in amusement.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, coming closer to your core. His breath on your folds was hot and icy-cold at the same time. When he finally licked you, your head flew back and moan left your parted lips. His tongue danced skillfully on you, making you squirm in pleasure. He put his hand on your stomach in an attempt to steady you but you slapped it. He laughed with mouth still pressed to you. The vibration made you squeeze your legs around him.

“B/N...” you whined with shaky voice. “It feels so good but... please... fuck me already.”

He hummed, made a few more licks and stood up. He took off his trousers and underwear while looking directly into your eyes. You bit down on your lips strongly when you glanced at his hard, reddened cock.

“Move up a bit,” he ordered you, kneeling between your legs. He stopped his moves just as he was about to enter you. One of his arms was laid near your head, other was placed on your hip. His breath tickled your ear. “Do you really want it?”

You smacked his shoulder, wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer so that the tip of his erection brushed over you. Loud moan left your lips at the same time when he growled directly into your ear. “Does this count as an answer,” you asked between erratic breaths. You felt on your skin how his lips stretched in a smile, and before you were able to grabbed his arm for support, he slammed into you with so much strength that you screamed. “Oh god.”

His thrusts were steady but powerful, his every move made you arch your back in pleasure. He grabbed your hair and linked your mouth in a sloppy kiss yet that didn't stop you from moaning. It was hard to breath, your eyes were tearing up and legs started giving up. As they slowly slid from his sweaty body, he caught one of them and pinned it to his side. You broke the kiss to catch some air and in that moment B/N hit the sweet spot inside you, making you cry in ecstasy. Your nails digged into the skin on his back, certainly breaking it. He hissed in pain and put even more force into his movements.

You were losing it. Your mouth was dry, every sound you made hurt you but you were unable to stop moaning and screaming his name. Your body was hot and sticky, and your head was spinning. The feeling that built up in your abdomen was ready to unravel and you couldn't wait for it. With the remaining bits of strength you wrapped your legs around him again and pressed your heels into his butt.

“Harder.” You voice was hoarse and almost inaudible. B/N looked at your tired face with soft gaze and planted a kiss on your temple. His hand travelled to your clit and started rubbing it in a fast pace. Your breath got stuck in your throat and sudden wave of heat spreaded through your body. Your legs gave up, falling on the bed. Tears ran down your face, mixing with sweat. String of incomprehensible words left your lips when white dots clouded your vision.

B/N's moves became unsteady and clumsy. He chased his high with closed eyes, and even though everything hurt you from overstimulation, you didn't stop him. After a few more rough thrusts he came, falling on you with a loud groan.

You both lay down like that for some time, trying to catch your breath. Finally, he rolled on the side but still kept his hand on your stomach. “That was... fucking nice,” he said.

You looked at him. “Just nice, huh?”

His laugh warmed your heart. “Fucking nice, sweetheart. It's been a while since I've had such an amazing sex.”

“Yeah, same.”

Silence fell around you but in no way it was uncomfortable. It was that nice kind of silence where only your breaths could have been heard. You closed your eyes, suddenly unable to keep them open.

“Hey,” he spoken up, “what about my second offer? Are you ready to leave writing for newspaper and come with me?”

You sat up, shocked. “How...?”

He followed your moves and gently pushed loose strands of hair from your face. “From the beginning it was weird for me. It felt that the more you became interested in me, the less information you gave to people. And V, according to what you said, loves the drama. If she had another informer the last time why he didn't give her any insight in what was happening earlier?”

“Shit.” Heat rushed to your cheeks and you were sure that they became red. You tried to cover yourself but B/N pulled you to his chest, laughing loudly.

“You're cute.” His fingers were tracing circles on your shoulders. “So what about that other offer?”

You looked at him with sweet smile. “When are we leaving?”

Thursday, 25th of May

Nothing lasts forever

Hello, dear citizens. Unfortunately, this is the last article in that section. And it will not be your usual text. Below we are inserting a letter from “newspaper girl” or V, if you wish.

Editorial team

* Where should I start?

Should I tell you my real identity?

Should I reveal that “newspaper girl” and V are the same person?

Should I make you aware of the fact that you all are so naive and clueless?

By now you probably know this.

You think of yourself so high and mighty yet a girl like me fooled you. And it didn't happen once! I was deceiving you for almost a year. As soon as I wrote my first article you became so scared of me. It was weird but funny at the same time.

All you ever wanted was hot news, you've never really cared about people behind those stories. Neither do I.

But it changed at some point and I became sick of you.

I'm leaving this town and I won't come back ever again.

You need to find another attraction.

Goodbye.

Newspaper Girl or V. or Y/N

(however you want to remember me) *

#nct scenarios #bts scenarios #exo scenarios #stray kids scenarios #smut #romance #nct smut #bts smut #exo smut #bias x reader #optional bias #historical au #i guess #but not really

172 notes · View notes

soofection · 6 years

Text

jenkai discourse in retrospection

(long post)

to take a slightly more light hearted break from all the updates regarding the burning sun case, I propose a discourse of jxk in retrospection after gaining all the new knowledge exposed by the media recently

dont read if you dont want to, if you read please dont come attack me for posting what I want on my own blog 🥰

In no way is what I type facts, and I am NOT comparing burning sun case with jxk (jxk is so insignificant and jxk is not a criminal case) yet I will make references to what the media and companies are capable of doing as proven by the exposure from the b. sun case regarding similar behaviours.

---

we now know that the kpop world is not what some once thought - an ideal fairytale land where idols/ the media never lie to us.

The truth:

We finally realize for sure that in korean ent. industry, sexual favours (in exchange for sponsors, promotion via media manipulation, basically fame and safety), offering prostitutes services... all in all using SEX is commonly used in return for connections / power / protection from the 'higher ups'.

why did jxk happen?

I propose: to cover yg x jni sex/sexual activities and jni has sponsors rumours (updated). After knowing yg is to a certain degree (personal assumption: large extent) involved in B.Sun and gangnam clubs, it makes sense to suspect that the jni rumour could be real. look up yg's past history, how he obtained his wife (emphasis, obtain). 12 years older yg 'fell in love' the moment he saw his wife as a second year middle school girl, recruited her at 16, ruined her career and married her. who knows how exactly yg treats his younger girl employees? Who is there to protect them?

but its just a 'groundless' rumour why was yg desperate?

to propose reasons: 1) it could be real, if so he HAS to camouflage it before it blows up further. 2) even if its not real, he didnt want to put bp's and his own name's reputation at stakes since bp is his most money earning group right now 3) if he doesnt make a deal with dispatch, who ofc are capable of digging deeper and they hate yg (proven by their ability to obtain kkt chats and exposing b.sun evidences) to supply them a fake scandal to cover ygxjni... dispatch WILL expose him. (also keep in mind jni has other sponsor rumour that might or not be true). and 4) - suggested by anon: yg could be taking precautions before b.sun scandal blows up. As we know b.sun revolves around sex crimes, Yg must get rid of the 'boss had sex with employee' label before b.sun blows up. Or else he will get dragged, it would be like adding oil on fire.

this theory is reinforced by allshitpop stating a media outlet discriminately announced 'the yg x jni rumour was false.' why purposefully mention it when no one asked?

but why ji?

main reason: hes an artist from sm. Yg desperately needed a scandal impacting enough to satisfy dispatch (releasing small unconvincing sandals will discredit dispatch's liability and reputation. ) But what to do when none of yg's male artists are popular enough to create a fuss nor any male groups's careers mature and stable enough to withstand the scandal pressure from the general public? the obvious solution is ofc to beg other big companies - sm or bighxt.

Most popular boy groups atm is still btx and ekso. honestly yg wouldve prefered btx due to their crazy fame, and jni will be their first dating scandal... the reactions would be DRAMATIC. yet in contrast to ekso, btx didnt really need to take that risk in hopes for more popularity. (rmb there would always be adverse effects when being involved in a dating scandal despite positive reactions and large no. of supporters). Also, even if btx has any scandals to cover, bighxt's recent merge with cj-enm (described as 'a powerhouse' aka very huge powerful company) means btx's any potential scandals can be taken care of for now. so that leaves ekso.

Who in ekso fits ji's image the most?

(hence will recieve 'positive' reactions and make them more aesthetically believable. without a doubt, its ji and his on going promoted sex appeal.) Reasons for ji and not other members: 1. theres no harm in giving him a beard (personal belief, ignore point 1. if you think homosexuality/kaisoo pairing isn't plausible) 2. to raise his popularity for his potential upcoming solo. 3. if someone who was involved in dating scandal before came up again, they probably predicts the pairing to be more positively recieved --> more supportors and a more hyped response from the public.

but none of that happened, the scandal was managed poorly. The paris evidence was made in a rush (dates didnt match) park pictures were too ambiguous (again dates and time didnt match), even when dispatch posted a pic of ji in a carpark supposedly came back from hawaii to give jni presents after landing - we learned from ji's own ig live that the day he wore the outfit in the photo, he had already returned to korea a few days ago, was around town shopping and went no where near the airport. Besides these failed attempts there was absolutely no other proof that jxk is real.

why was it poorly managed?

bc this is a rare collab between two big rival companies. Yg was the one begging at the start yet sm wasnt able to take full control of this scandal. Conflicts and disagreements upon makng many decisions were highly likely to occur between these two rivals.

The break up

a lot of fans were shocked when jxk broke up just after 25 days. (brand new record). what else is weird?

sm personally confirmed jxk broke up abruptly. Usually when couples break up, fan rumours start to float around first. But not this time, no rumours surfaced yet sm all of a sudden definitively stated that jxk broke up. Back then I already predicted it maybe because yg or bp got into trouble hence sm wanted to distance themselves as far as possible. I still stand by that idea.

Sm must get away from yg and b.sun case for the sake of theirs/ekso's reputation. sm def dont want to be dragged into the mess. Remember, sm as a huge company themselves def have their own dirt to hide, getting dragged means huge consequences if the investigators target them.

so why did sm agree in the first place? I assume its bc altho sm knew that yg had dirt to hide, they did not know it was something as serious, severe and big as b.sun case / tax evading case. Therefore, what are the coincidences that sm announced breakup shortly before dispatch sparked reinvestigation into b.sun by posting crucial evidences? (the first chats)

its highly possible that dispatch warned sm, (which makes them sound like the good guys but no. remember sm is dispatch's source of money and partnered with them many times. b.sun indeed aint directly related to sm, (as for now) dispatch has no reason to ruin sm) Or, sm could have found out through other sources that b.sun case will blow up soon. they quickly cut their collab with yg early, and announced break up probably without telling yg first. (since telling them possibly means giving dispatch away).

this also suggests that dispatch hates yg but anyway.

The benefits of ji

Comparing the two, jni seems to be the one who gained more from the scandal. She got most of media and the public's attention. there is an explanation for this - shes the 'rookier' one, and the trendier one out if the two since bp is still rising when ekso has reached their plateau. However, ji did gain his own lesser share of attention (indicated by the gained followers on his ig).

I have always said that when idols agree to be involved in a scandal, they are likely to get a 'reward.' but now thinking about it, agreeing to scandals is part of ji's contract, rewards are bonus but not obligations. Besides, the scandal itself supposedly helps ji gain popularity for solo and gains a beard, sm didnt NEED to give him more bonus. Often when idols get more modelling jobs / solo etc after scandals is bc sm uses the risen populairty from scandal as an opportunity to maximise profit by giving them more jobs, it might not be bc sm wants 'pamper' them.

Plan cut short

unfortunately for ji who is not getting his solo soon, the jxk plan flopped due to poor management, and was cut short due to b.sun case. The scandal did not fulfill what it was supposed to do and ended prematurely . Followed by the apparent troubles in sm negotiating contract terms with ekso, (delayed ekso schedules),chxn suddenly getting a solo, and the blowing up of b.sun case, ji might have missed his chance again. Or hes simply still preparing.

to summarize i want to clarify a few things.

- none of these are facts, but an overall picture forming one huge speculation.

- I dont try to defame bp or shame them. i also am not trying to state that girl artists def had sex with the hihgher ups. b.sun has shown us that men always have more power over women, and they rarely get protection.

- I want people to realize the dark side of kpop. The kpop industry is full of conspiracies, media manipulation and lies. What you see on tv is not who your idols are portrayed to be on camera. Don't impose your ideal vision on them and hurt others when reality suggests otherwise.

side note: this theory conveyed reinforcement to statements I've made before

- conspiracies are real and true. Look at all the dark and shady events involved in b.sun case

- media play, mass manipulation exist and are common practice.

- dispatch and sm collab and are partners on a case by case basis.

- idols lie on interviews all the time, their tv persona is different from the real them.

- companies offer protection for their idols

- it is indeed common practice to use one scandal to cover another

ANYTHING can happen in the world of the k ent industry. dont lightly dismiss any possibilities. We must analyse the sum of the situations - the full picture of any events before believing anything we are told.

#kaisoo #jongin #jennie #jxk #analysis #myposts #jxk1 #jenkai

262 notes · View notes

mikami · 5 years

Text

Death Note Audio Drama 04

Disc 4: Proof of Loyalty - a summary / partial translation

Prior translations / an explanation as to what the fuck this is.

The plot is still manga-close. This episode is honestly fairly boring, it’s full of homophobic jokes that nobody asked for. But hey, Misa is here now!

_____

We begin with a Sakura TV executive conference. Demegawa wants more features like the one about the witness protection victim in Australia. Demegawa suggests provoking Kira or the cops in order to get a story. The ‘moral standpoint’ does truly not concern him. Then a special delivery comes in.

It’s a letter from Kira.

_____

TITLE MUSIC

_____

An announcement for “Kira Speaks” on Sakura TV. It’s styled as a really dramatic advertisement, with echo features and all.

____

Sachiko visits Soichiro in the hospital.

SOICHIRO: You’re late, visiting hours are only until 8.

SACHIKO: The nurse is Emi, we went to college together. She looked the other way for a moment.

SOICHIRO (laughs): My wife... The wife of a policeman....

SACHIKO (also laughs): Do you maybe want to arrest me, chief inspector?

Sachiko notices that Soichiro’s heart rate is no longer monitored. It’s because he’ll get discharged tomorrow. Suddenly, Soichiro notices the TV transmission and turns the audio up.

Kira asks people to turn to other TV channels to see the people there dying, as proof of his identity.

____

L and the Task Force are also listening. L wants to stop the transmission. Ukita drives over to Sakura TV. Misa’s Kira II speech continues very similar to the manga.

____

Soichiro gets up and leaves the hospital despite Sachiko protesting and telling him to let his team handle it.

____

Ukita arrives at Sakura TV. He threatens employees with a gun in order to get to the studio quickly.

____

Demegawa is THRILLED that someone with a gun is coming to the studio. He lets the security transmission of Ukita trying to get in play on a split screen with the Kira video. Ukita gets a heart attack before he can force his way into the room.

____

L stops Aizawa from also going to the TV studio. The Task Force realize that Kira no longer needs a name.

____

Sakura TV employees realize Ukita is dead. Demegawa goes on air.

DEMEGAWA: My name is Hitoshi Demegawa from Sakura TV. I apologize in the name of the program for the images you just had to witness. We’re not transmitting these news and these messages for any kind of awards or for viewer numbers, but for the good of the populace and to save innocent lives.

[He’s referring to Kira threatening their employees if they don’t send the tape. ]

____

A phone ringing.

SACHIKO (on the phone): Light? Light, are you awake?

LIGHT: Mom? What... What time is it?

SACHIKO: It’s about your dad.

LIGHT: Dad? Is he okay?

SACHIKO: He just discharged himself from the hospital.

LIGHT: Oh, uh, good. Are you two taking a cab?

SACHIKO: He lost his mind!

LIGHT: I get it.

SACHIKO: And he stole an ambulance!

LIGHT: He did what?!

_____

Soichiro crashes an ambulance into Sakura TV, as he does.

_____

Back in the studio.

DEMEGAWA: What happened to the lights?

EMPLOYEE: Power outage. In the whole building. Someone took us out.

DEMEGAWA: Are we still on air?!

EMPLOYEE: I’d say... no.

DEMEGAWA: Who is shutting off my power?!

EMPLOYEE: Oh, someone with a light is coming.

DEMEGAWA: I don’t need a light, I need a transmission in HD!

SOICHIRO: You’ll need a hearse, if you don’t do what I say. Hands up!

______

L and the Task Force want to turn the power off and need Kitamura to keep police away from the building. Soichiro calls.

______

Soichiro informs L that he’s got the tapes. He’s escaped and Watari is going to pick him up by car.

______

News transmission about Soichiro’s break-in. Demegawa is getting interviewed and repeats his ‘I didn’t do it for any awards’ spiel almost ad verbatim. People online, however, are commending Sakura TV and Demegawa. Demegawa also did a big donation for Ukita’s funeral.

______

At Ukita’s funeral. L and Soichiro talk about whether or not Kira is watching the funeral. They assume no, because there is a lot of police surveillance. L is still not wearing any shoes.

Soichiro informs L that forensics hasn’t found any hints on the tapes and envelopes. L weighs the options of whether or not they’ll say yes or no to cooperating with Kira. He decides they need to decline.

L also points out that there are two Kiras now, based on the different victim patterns and powerset. L also assumes this Kira is younger than the other.

L wants to play the two Kiras against one another and decides to add Light to the task force for real.

______

L calls Light to invite him to the Task Force. After this, Light and Ryuk watch Kira’s answer to the police refusal on TV. Light literally physically got popcorn for it.

On TV, Kira II demands to either kill L or Kitamura and that the police can choose who.

Light is pleased with Kira II so far, but also knows very much that there is risk inherent in their existence. He wants to stay careful.

______

TV broadcast of the fake Kira I message that the Task Force made. Misa is listening, delighted that Kira answered. She immediately goes to record an answer video, remarking on how it’s close to Valentine’s day.

______

Kira II tape, though not yet live broadcasted. This is the message in which she mentions the eyes and shinigami, as well as sends the fake diary.

______

The task force discusses the new tape. They wonder about the terms eyes and shinigami. Light meanwhile is hiding out in the toilet. (L: “Maybe that’s where he gets his good ideas.”)

______

Light is FURIOUS at Kira II for mentioning the word shinigami on the tape for public TV. He’s in the bathroom to rant a little while letting water run for camouflage.

RYUK: Come on, soldier. You have to get back in there.

LIGHT: Before they get suspicious?

RYUK: Before they think that you’ve got indigestion.

_____

They discuss the diary entry. Light discovers that it is a message about a meeting place. L then discovers that the Aoyama and the Tokyo Dome entries are about this year and not the year the diary is from.

_____

Misa humming while getting ready. She wears Nr. 5 perfume.

_____

They discuss how to look for a single person in a place as big as Aoyama. L analyses the speech of the second Kira. He suspects Kira II is a woman.

[Once more, I am largely guessing which task force man is which.... ]

MATSUDA?: The second Kira is... female?

L: I think so, yes. Listen. “Tried out JUMP yesterday. I liked it.”

MATSUDA: JUMP is a boy’s magazine.

L: That’s why she never read it before. “Dumbass Musume concert with the squad”...

MATSUDA: Dumbass Musume?

L: Exactly. Why would she be so negative towards a girl group?

MATSUDA: Because he’s a boy...?

SOICHIRO?: Because she’s a girl that rejects and looks down on mainstream.

MATSUDA: Still sounds like a boy to me.

L: Then this one. “Met the guy in the cafeteria. Not my type.”

MATSUDA: That proves nothing. Maybe he’s gay.

AIZAWA? (amused): So we’re looking for a gay serial killer?

MATSUDA: I’m just saying, this form of profiling is a little... heteronormative.

L: Your opinion about gay men isn’t exactly non-prejudiced either.

MATSUDA: Well, I’m not an expert of course.

L: You assume that a man who acts girly has to be homosexual...?

AIZAWA?: He’s not saying he’s walking around in dresses and high heels. He’s just saying some turns of phrase seem more like a girl.

MATSUDA: I can’t believe you’re all becoming holy knights of equality now. Just because I--

L: Gay men are also allowed to be criminals.

Light hits the table and makes everyone focus again, agrees that Kira II sounds sooort of girly. He sums up that they’re looking for a longer girl who is trying to be social. Someone who is smarter than the people their age but nobody realizes. L says she tried to stick out before by being unconventional. Light jokes about being on the lookout for a punk girl or a gothic lolita. Light also assumes she’s a teen.

_______

MISA: Loves me... loves me not... loves me... loves me not....

Her train stop to get off is announced.

MISA: Oh! He loves me!

_______

The task force is hiding in a van in Aoyama for surveillance. They tell Aizawa to put his binoculars away as to not look like creeps. Light and Matsuda, the undercover agents for the day, come around.

SOMEONE: What the hell is Matsuda wearing?

MATSUDA: I’m just trying to fit in, okay?

LIGHT (laughs): Pride Parade is only in May.

MATSUDA: I am talking about Aoyama. The trends happen in this district, my friend. I’d only stick out with suit and sunglasses.

LIGHT: Just do whatever you want.

MATSUDA: And I will.

AIZAWA: Wait, I got it. Matsuda! I think your cover would work even better if the two of you held hands. Over.

MATSUDA (over the comm): I can’t understand. Please repeat.

SOICHIRO: Forget the order, Matsuda. Those two here had clowns for breakfast.

AIZAWA: Two queens couldn’t do it any better either.

SOICHIRO: Focus, Aizawa. We’re looking for a killer. Keep the channel open.

L is watching from a roof. L orders the task force to split up and check the cafés. Rem and Ryuk are on the same roof as L, watching. L is cold. The shinigami suggest that he’s pretty sensitive, being able to feel their presence.

______

Ryuk and Rem introduce themselves to each other and chat about ‘my boy’ and ‘my girl’ respectively. Both of them are very convinced their kiddo is going to be smarter in this situation. Rem is oddly tempted to throw L off the roof / or kill him in another way. Then Misa got Light’s name and leaves, so Rem leaves too.

______

Misa bumps into Matsuda by accident.

MISA: Hey, watch where you’re walking!

MATSUDA: Oh, sorry.

MISA: ... cool T-shirt.

MATSUDA: Did you hear that?

LIGHT: Hear what?

MATSUDA: I’m on eye level with the kids. Speak their language. ... uhm, I’m just saying.

______

Misa moons over how good Light looks to Rem. She looks him up on social media and finds herself impressed with his grades. (”Just the kind of guy I’d introduce to mom and dad..... if they weren’t dead, that is.”)

______

The Task Force is faced with the fact that their investigation didn’t really do anything useful. Aizawa is pissed he had to work on his free day for this. However, Matsuda comes in with a new tape that Kira sent. The tape says Kira II found Kira and nothing else. That confirms Aoyama was the meeting point. L orders to cancel the baseball game in Tokyo Dome, so that the Kiras can’t meet at a second meeting point, since it isn’t confirmed yet if Kira II contacted Kira I.

They now decide to try and turn Kira II against Kira I by making him sound dangerous to her.

______

Yagami household. Misa suddenly shows up and introduces herself as Light’s girlfriend to Sayu. Light also comes downstairs.

MISA: Darling. You never mentioned your sister is such a beauty.

LIGHT: No! No, I.... this sister?

Sachiko comes in and Light asks Misa up to his room, getting away from the crowded situation.

SACHIKO: This came out of nowhere...

SAYU: He kept her a secret from us....

SACHIKO: Look at those shoes. It’s a miracle she’s able to walk in those.

SAYU: I like her. She’s got style.

SACHIKO: You’re just saying this because she called you good-looking.

SAYU: Because a rational-thinking human being would never get that idea, right?

SACHIKO: Oh Sayu. You know exactly what I mean.

SAYU: Of course! No wonder I turned out so meek and shy.

SACHIKO: Don’t be so melodramatic, dear.

SAYU: My own mother thinks I’m ugly!

SACHIKO (laughs): I didn’t say that!

______

Light and Misa are in his room. She explains how she found Light (”I saw you in Aoyama, with your strange buddy Matsuda. What was he supposed to be? A pirate or something?”). They show each other their shinigami.

______

Sachiko is very displeased about Light bringing home such a girl and going up to his room with her to make out. She and Sayu chat about it briefly.

_____

Misa declares her motto is “Live fast, die young... slay all my enemies.” when she explains why she took the deal.

Light and Misa’s “Make me your girlfriend” talk is fairly similar to the manga.

Then Sachiko interrupts to throw Misa out (politely) and the episode ends.

#death note #misa amane #light yagami #l lawliet #audio drama translations

54 notes · View notes

etirabys · 5 years

Text

I read Nancy Friday’s My Secret Garden this week because of a random tumblr rec. It’s a compilation of women’s sexual fantasies, published in 1973. It was a great read, although I concur with a tart Amazon review that says ‘I do not need Nancy Friday to interpret these fantasies for me’ – I mostly skipped her commentary. She’s overconfident about knowing why people want the things they do.

The content and texture of the fantasies in the book are not discernibly different from those of men’s fantasies I’ve read on the internet and heard from male friends/partners. I understand this book was a shocking feminist work when it came out – women have fantasies! Women have weird and transgressive fantasies! – but my suspicion is that, in broad strokes, people want and fantasize about sex in pretty much the same way, even if the acceptable range of expression for women is/was smaller in our society. (Based on this book, people are way more interested in sex with animals than I knew – that seems taboo-irrespective-of-gender.) Like, humans are weird and want weird stuff in bed, and women are human in that way too. I think that was the main surprise this book held for its society.

The book’s concerns (and theses) about human sexuality overlap mine: that the range of things people want sexually are stranger and more interesting than any one person could imagine; and partially because they do not understand the vastness of that range, all too many people in the world consider themselves abnormal, and are ashamed of the desires that could bring them happiness instead.

The aspect of the book that most interested me was how these women’s fantasies affected their relationships. Their partners run the gamut. There is, of course, “I tried to tell my husband the thing I’m into and he was disgusted”, “my male partner was surprised and put off when he learned that I have fantasies at all”. There’s an obnoxious guy who wrote Friday a letter saying “my wife doesn’t have fantasies, she only thinks about me”. There’s a lot of gendered nastiness in here that I was braced for and found.

But I was surprised by the other thing. The thing where plenty of women in this book know exactly what they’re into, set out to get it, find the right people to do it with, and have a fantastic time. There’s a middle aged woman who’d given birth three times and was dissatisfied by sex with her husband, because dick/vagina size mismatch after childbirth. They ended up having a talk where he encouraged her to sleep with other people (and got turned out by the idea) and got a list of acquaintances she wanted to sleep with, which included his cousin and her sister’s ex-husband. He then arranged (separate) trips with them where she ended up sleeping with them, and said that if she became pregnant with his cousin’s child, he’d be happy to raise it as their own. Their own sex life vastly improved after they started talking about this and she slept with the other two guys.

That’s a really dramatic example of “woman tells partner that she’s into a thing, partner is enthusiastic and helps her recreate the fantasy in part or full,” but there were a lot stories like that. Humans who love each other, and are happy to make each other happy. Who hear “there’s this weird thing that turns me on” and go “that’s very cool, let’s do it together”.

In that category, there’s an amazingly sweet one that made me cry a little when I read it and then bawl like crazy today when I remembered it again while walking back home from the dentist’s. Photos of three pages below cut.

#rambl #i deleted bullet points about black men in this book (THERE'S SO MUCH TO UNPACK‚ AS THEY SAY) and the range of #female bisexuality – which was delightfully chaotic #there's so much going on! ahh!#anyway. re: the last excerpt #all i have to do is think 'and how lonely these last five years have been' and i start dehydrating through my face again

62 notes · View notes

theculturedmarxist · 5 years

Link

By Barry Grey

26 September 2019

On Monday night, the New York Metropolitan Opera opened its 2019-2020 season with a new production of George Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess. This production has a particular distinction in that it is the first ever based on a critically researched and authoritative performance edition of Gershwin’s score, the product of 20 years of work led by musicologist Wayne Shirley, who is currently at the University of Michigan’s Gershwin Initiative.

There is no doubt that the poignant love story of the crippled beggar Porgy and the beautiful but abused and addicted Bess, and the suffering and struggle of the African American working class community of Charleston’s Catfish Row, is among the world’s most beloved operas and Gershwin’s masterpiece.

Yet the fact that the current production is the first in 29 years to be staged by the country’s most prestigious opera house is indicative of the trials and tribulations that have confronted the work since it premiered on Broadway in October 1935. These have come not from the broad public, which has embraced the opera (and many of its numbers) since its inception, thrilled by its glorious and complex music and moved by its deeply democratic ethos, but from within certain more privileged constituencies—the American classical music establishment, academia, sections of the black professional upper-middle class, including certain African American artists, composers, writers and actors.

Gershwin, the prolific composer—along with his lyricist brother Ira—of hit Broadway musicals and dozens of memorable songs that have become part of the Great American Songbook, rejected the artificial separation of popular music from “serious” or “classical” music. He wrote concert classics that incorporated elements of jazz such as Rhapsody in Blue, the Concerto in F and An American in Paris, which have become part of the symphonic repertoire the world over. He called his Porgy a “folk opera” and deliberately had it debut on Broadway in order to appeal to a broader audience. But what he wrote was a musically dense and dramatically powerful opera in the full sense of the word.

One example of the dismissal of Porgy by much of the American music establishment was a savage review of a production at the New York City Opera written in March of 1965 by the then-music critic of the New York Times Harold C. Schonberg. He wrote:

“Porgy and Bess”—Gershwin, you know—seems to have taken root as an American classic, and everybody accepts it as a kind of masterpiece. It turned up last night as given by the New York City Opera Company. All I can say is that it is a wonder that anybody can take it seriously.

It is not a good opera, it is not a good anything, though it has a half-dozen or so pretty tunes in it: and in light of recent developments it is embarrassing. “Porgy and Bess” contains as many stereotypes in its way as “Uncle Tom’s Cabin.”

In more recent decades, with the domination of racial and identity politics on the campuses and within what passes for the American intelligentsia, its promotion by the Democratic Party and elevation as an ideological bulwark of bourgeois rule, the opera has been repeatedly accused of denigrating and exploiting black people. It is, according to the terminology of African American Studies departments and a well-funded industry that—with the aid of pseudo-left organizations—churns out racialist propaganda, a prime example of “cultural appropriation.”

We will deal with the retrograde concept of “cultural appropriation” further on. First let us examine how this racialist approach to Porgy and Bess is reflected in the media reception to the new Met production.

The table was set, so to speak, by the New York Times, which led its Sunday arts section with a full-page photo of the two leads, Eric Owens and Angel Blue, and the headline “The Complex History and Uneasy Present of ‘Porgy and Bess.’”

Taking pains to raise the standard racialist arguments against the opera and its composer, while simultaneously acknowledging the greatness of the work, the author, Michael Cooper, wrote:

More urgently, is “Porgy” a sensitive portrayal of the lives and struggles of a segregated African-American community in Charleston, SC? (Maya Angelou, who as a young dancer performed in a touring production that brought it to the Teatro alla Scala in Milan in 1955, later praised it as “great art” and “a human truth.”)

Or does it perpetuate degrading stereotypes about black people, told in wince-inducing dialect? (Harry Belafonte turned down an offer to star in the film version because he found it “racially demeaning.”)

Is it a triumph of melting-pot American art, teaming up George and Ira Gershwin (the sons of Russian Jewish immigrants) with DuBose Heyward (the scion of a prominent white South Carolina family) and his Ohio-born wife, Dorothy, to tell a uniquely African-American story? Or is it cultural appropriation?...

Or is the answer to all these questions yes?

The first wave of reviews published Tuesday (the WSWS will publish its own review of the Met production at a later date) have generally been highly favorable. All of the reviewers, however, feel obliged to qualify their enthusiasm for the performance by cataloging the opera’s supposed “baggage,” viewed from the standpoint of race. It seems they allow themselves to be moved by the piece only reluctantly, and sense its humanity and truth despite themselves.

George Grella, for example, writes in New York Classical Review:

Since its debut, Porgy and Bess has been consistently hectored by two questions: is it an opera and is it some combination of condescension and racial exploitation (lately termed cultural appropriation)?

The debut of a new production of Porgy and Bess, which opened the season at the Metropolitan Opera Monday night, could leave no objective listener with any doubt as to the answer to the first question. And based on the excited responses from the audience during the performance, and the rapturous applause and shouts at the end—from the kind of patron mix one sees in everyday life in New York City but rarely in a classical music venue—the work has gone quite a ways toward settling the latter in a heartening and beneficent way.

There are charges of stereotyping and caricature of the inhabitants of Catfish Row, but the real problem of the opera, the irredeemable original sin of Porgy and Bess that every reviewer is duty-bound to raise, is the fact that its creators were white. (Even worse, three of the four—George and Ira Gershwin and Dubose Heyward—were men.)

Thus, the Washington Post ’s Anne Midgette writes: “Like so many operas, ‘Porgy’ is dated: written by white men and rife with stereotypes of its time.”

Anthony Tommasini of the New York Times writes: “But ever since its premiere in 1935, the work has divided opinion, and the debate lingers. … ‘Porgy’ was created, after all, by white people. … That ‘Porgy and Bess’ is a portrait of a black community by white artists may limit the work.”

Justin Davidson of Vulture.com notes: “True, the only depiction of African-American life that makes it to the opera stage with any regularity was written by three white guys.”

The very fact that the race, gender or nationality of the artist is today uncritically presented as a central issue in evaluating a work testifies to the degeneration of bourgeois thought in general and the terrible damage inflicted over many years by identity and racial politics. The use of such criteria in past periods was associated with the political right, which employed them to promote anti-democratic and racist agendas.

While today the attack on Porgy and Bess on grounds of the “whiteness” of its creators is cloaked in the supposedly “left” trappings of Democratic Party politics and post-modernist (that is, anti-Marxist) criticism, the earlier practitioners of such an approach were more frank in giving vent to its ugly sources and implications.

Reviewing the premiere of Porgy and Bess in 1935, the prominent American composer and music critic Virgil Thomson wrote:

The material is straight from the melting pot. At best it is a piquant but highly unsavory stirring-up together of Israel, Africa and the Gaelic Isles. … [Gershwin’s] lack of understanding of all the major problems of form, of continuity, and of serious or direct musical expression is not surprising in view of the impurity of his musical sources. … I do not like fake folklore, nor fidgety accompaniments, nor bittersweet harmony, nor six-part choruses, nor gefilte fish orchestration.

Most critics and professors who attack the opera for the “whiteness” of its authors are not anti-Semites, but, whether they like it or not, there is an objective link between their approach and that of Richard Wagner, one of the pioneers of anti-Semitism in the field of music. In 1850, he authored the infamous tract “Das Judentum in der Musik” (“Jewishness and Music”), in which he denounced Jewish composers in general and Felix Mendelssohn and Giacomo Meyerbeer in particular.

A racial approach to art has a definite logic. It leads in the end to abominations such as the Nazis' Aryan art, with its book burning and banning of Jewish- and black-infected “degenerate art.”

It is a historical fact that the son of Russian-Jewish immigrants who fled tsarist persecution composed an opera that expressed in a powerful and beautiful way both the poverty and oppression of blacks in the segregated South and their nobility of spirit and burning desire for genuine freedom and equality. What is so strange or problematic about that?

George Gershwin was a genius and without doubt the greatest American composer of his time. That is an important factor to reckon with. There were and are many talented black composers—Duke Ellington and William Grant Still, to name just two—who produced great music, but none has to date produced a musical piece about the black experience in America that compares to Porgy. Unfortunately, in the attacks on the opera by some black artists—initially including Ellington, although the great jazz composer later changed his opinion—there was an element of jealousy. The same applies to composers of the academy who dismissed Gershwin’s work as technically deficient and low-brow.

How many jazz greats have performed and improvised on Gershwin tunes, including his opera? Miles Davis produced an entire album based on it. The list includes Charlie Parker, John Coltrane, Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holliday and many more. It also includes country and pop artists such as Willie Nelson and Brian Wilson.

More than 80 years after its premiere, history itself has demonstrated the universality of Porgy and Bess. It is about black people, but, more fundamentally, it is about the human condition. Its basic themes are universal. It is a love story. It is a story about oppression, community, struggle, loss and the will to fight.

Do not songs such as “Summertime,” “I Got Plenty of Nothing” and the exquisite love duet “Bess, You Is My Woman Now” express the most profound and universal of human aspirations and emotions? Those who attack the opera for its “whiteness” generally avoid discussing the music.

Nor can there be any doubt that Gershwin’s own background, in the context of the convulsive social and political conditions of the Depression 1930s—the spread of fascism in Europe, revolutionary upheavals internationally and mass struggles of the American working class, and the approach of the Second World War—played a significant role in inspiring him to write Porgy.

During the summer of 1934, Gershwin stayed on Folly Beach, located on a barrier island near Charleston, South Carolina, collecting material and ideas for his opera and visiting revival meetings of the Gullah blacks who lived on adjacent James Island. He wrote to a friend: “We sit out at night gazing at the stars, smoking our pipes. The three of us, Harry [Botkin], Paul [Mueller] and myself discuss our two favorite subjects, Hitler’s Germany and God’s women.”

Dubose Heyward, who spent part of the summer with Gershwin on Folly Beach, published an article in 1935 in Stage magazine in which he described Gershwin’s interaction with the people who became the prototypes for the characters of his opera. “To George it was more like a homecoming than an exploration,” he wrote. “The quality in him which had produced the Rhapsody in Blue in the most sophisticated city in America, found its counterpart in the impulse behind the music and bodily rhythms of the simple Negro peasant of the South.

“The Gullah Negro prides himself on what he calls ‘shouting.’ This is a complicated rhythmic pattern beaten out by feet and hands as an accompaniment to the spirituals, and is indubitably an African survival. I shall never forget the night when at a Negro meeting on a remote sea-island, George started ‘shouting’ with them. And eventually, to their huge delight stole the show from their champion ‘shouter.’ I think that he is probably the only white man in America who could have done it.”

Gershwin himself was not overtly political, at least in his public life, but his sympathies and associations were with the liberal and socialist left. He penned Broadway shows of a broadly anti-war and socially dissident character, such as Strike Up the Band, Of Thee I Sing and Let ’Em Eat Cake. The impact of the Russian Revolution, only 18 years prior to the debut of Porgy, contributed to the generally optimistic and democratic impulse behind his music. The sister of Ira Gershwin’s wife Leonore, Rose Strunsky, translated Leon Trotsky’s Literature and Revolution into English.

The singers who worked closely with Gershwin on Porgy, including the original Porgy and Bess, Todd Duncan and Anne Brown, spoke with affection of their interactions with the composer, insisting he never evinced the slightest prejudice or condescension. They were always among the most ardent defenders of the opera.

The Gershwins insisted that the singing roles go only to black performers, in part because they wanted to break down the exclusion of African American artists from the concert hall and because they did not want the opera to be performed in blackface.

As for the element of caricature in Porgy and Bess, what opera does not have caricatures? The vengeful dwarf in Rigoletto, the seductive gypsy in Carmen, the tubercular seamstress in La Boheme, the rascally but clever servant in The Marriage of Figaro. One could go on and on. The issue is: Do the inhabitants of Catfish Row transcend their “types” and express genuine humanity? The opera’s audiences all over the world have answered in the affirmative.

And what of the charge of “cultural appropriation?” Could there be a more banal, reactionary and anti-artistic concept? What is art, if not the interaction of multiple influences of many origins, conditioned by social and historical development and distilled in the creative imagination of the artist to produce works that have universal significance?

Should we denounce Shakespeare, a male, for inventing Ophelia? Should we reject Verdi for writing operas about Egyptians? Should we ban blacks from playing white characters? What about that racist Mark Twain who had the impertinence to create the escaped slave Jim?

The balkanization of art is the end of art.

Here is how Gershwin, who aspired to create a genuine American idiom, described his own development. In an article titled “Jazz is the Voice of the American Soul,” published in 1926, he wrote:

Old music and new music, forgotten melodies and the craze of the moment, bits of opera, Russian folk songs, Spanish ballads, chansons, ragtime ditties combined in a mighty chorus in my inner ear. And through and over it all I heard, faint at first, loud at last, the soul of this great America of ours.

And what is the voice of the American soul? It is jazz developed out of ragtime, jazz that is the plantation song improved and transformed into finer, bigger harmonies. …

I do not assert that the American soul is Negroid. But it is a combination that includes the wail, the whine, and the exultant note of the old “mammy” songs of the South. It is black and white. It is all colors and all souls unified in the great melting pot of the world. …

But to be true music it must repeat the thoughts and aspirations of the people and the time. My people are Americans. My time is today.

#wsws #porgy and bess #opera #american opera #gershwin #george gershwin #wagner #broadway #broadway musicals #identity politics #racism #racialism #cultural appropriation #gullah

2 notes · View notes

callmetippytumbles · 6 years

Text

A Happy New Year (Liam x MC)

Tippy’s Note: So listen, it’s been a hot minute since I did a fanfic. Blah, blah, life. Blah, blah, busy. Other stuff. I wanted to get back into the swing of things with something fluffy, sweet and in the spirit of the season. Like the first fanfic, Tipsy Halle had to make an appearance. I hope you guys like it. I may have more stuff cooking for you guys.

Disclaimer: Choices owns this and I do not.

Words Counted: 2,135 Rating: PG Pairing: Liam x MC (Halle), Driara

Liam x MC tags: @jacksonsmaine @umccall71 @blackcoffee85 @theroyalweisme @writtenbycandy@hopefulmoonobject @mynameiskaylabella @the-everlasting-dream@zigbadboy @indiacater @lolablackwrites @i-choose-liam

Fic tags: @coldcolectornight08 @brightpinkpeppercorn @smalltalk88

Halle and Liam sat in front of one of the large pine trees outside of Applewood Manor. Their large grins trained on the camera in front of them.

“Wishing a Merry Christmas…” Liam started.

“...And Happy Holidays to you and yours.” Halle added, hoping the huskiness to her voice brought warmth and not exhaustion.

“And an extra happy holiday to you.” Liam cooed to the youngest Rhys, two-year-old Asher, Ash for short, who nuzzled against his mother. The young boy smiled and clasped his father’s nose in his gloved hands.

Five-year-olds Kalilah and Zuri sat in front of them and waved to the camera. While Zuri continued to wave, Kalilah reached down into the snow and threw a snowball at her brother and father. Zuri quickly retaliated and soon the peaceful moment descended into chaos. Lilah had Zuri pinned within seconds. Ash patted snow on his sister’s back leaving Halle and Liam to have a battle of their own.

Halle smashed a snowball on her husband’s face.

“Is that how you want to play, my love?”

She didn’t finish her nod before Liam tackled her in the snow.

“Cut,” An exasperated Madeleine shouted behind the camera crew. “So much for a regal but festive address.” She threw her hands up in the air.

Halle pulled Lilah off of her brother while Liam held Ash. They walked over to where Madeleine was with the camera crew.

“Think we have it now?”

“No, Your Majesty, we do not. We should do one more take.”

Zuri groaned.

Halle looked down at her children. Lilah looked about ready to cry. Zuri had his arms across his chest. They were more than done. Ash was also over it, getting antsy in his father’s arms.

“I don’t think the twins have another take in them and Ash is about ready for a nap.”

“I still think…”

“Maybe the snow fight is a good thing,” St. James interjected. “It makes them seem down to earth.”

“They are not down to earth, they are the Royal Family of Cordonia. This isn’t some cutesy e-card we are making for Grandma.”

Ash became even fussier, fighting his father’s embrace, his small limbs flailing in every direction. “I say that we go with this one. With the snowball fight.” Liam giving his final word while trying to calm the toddler.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Madeleine says with a fake grin, though the tightness in her jaw said otherwise. She walked away with a determined stride, calling over her shoulder as she went. “Make sure that the footage gets to the editor ASAP. I want this on every television station by primetime and on Instagram before tea-time.”

“I am already on it.” St. James hollered back.

Now Drake was playing the clip of Liam getting smashed with a snowball on his phone during New Years Eve gathering that Halle and Liam were hosting at the Valtoria Estate.

“You don’t get to see that every day,” Drake pointed out. “The Sovereign Ruler of Cordonia getting pummelled with snow.”

“I seem to recall you being buried in snow by your wife and son on Instagram. I think it even had the caption hashtag ‘snow daddy’” Liam countered.

“But I am not the king.”

“Dieu merci pour ça,” Kiara said as she joined the two men. “The last thing we need is a grumpy monarch who would spend an alarming amount of the GDP on whiskey.”

“I am not a grump.”

His best friend raised his eyebrow and his wife side-eyed him.

“I am not!” Drake defended. “I like fun. Woo. Fun. Good times for all.”

“But you are my dear, and I love you anyway,” Kiara added with a kiss on Drake’s cheek.

“You’ve got to now. You’re stuck with me.” Drake kissed her on the lips.

“Guess I am... Snow Daddy.”

“Truer words have never been spoken.”

Zuri ran up to his father, his footie pajamas slipping on the hardwood floors. “Can we do sock slides with Uncle Maxwell?”

Henri, Drake and Kiara’s son followed closely behind. “Yeah, can we?”

“What did your mother say?”

“Ask your father.”

“Did she now? Well, I guess I do not see the immediate harm in this.” Liam reasoned.

“They would be with an adult,” Kiara added.

“You are calling Maxwell an adult?”

Henri held onto his father’s leg. Drake saw his own eyes peer back at him as he pouted his mother’s lips.

“Please,” the child begged with a lip quiver.

Drake sighed, “Fine.”

“Yes!” Henri cheered, his pout vanishing.

“Sock slide contest with Uncle Maxwell!”

“He has all the best tricks.”

Henri and Zuri ran off in search of their fun uncle, leaving the adults to themselves.

A waiter walked by with a tray of drinks. Liam and Drake picked up tumblers of scotch while Kiara’s had non-alcoholic Lythikos eggnog. She and Drake were expecting their second child, so that meant no wine for her. This led to a discussion about adjusting from one child to two. Liam did not have much to offer in that discussion since he and Halle went from zero to two in one go.

Halle had Ash for most of the night. He didn’t do well with spending long periods of time with the nanny or with lots of new people in the house. With all of the strangers in the house, Ash was especially clingy. Any time she would put the child down to have him play with the other children, he would throw a tantrum that could only be calmed by a mother’s love. Eventually, the stimulation became too much and Ash tired himself out. Now Halle was free to actually enjoy the party that she planned.

Heading towards the great hall where everyone was, she was intercepted by Bastien.

“Your Majesty, we have a situation in the kitchen.”

“Liam!”

Bastien held his hands up. “No-no, it’s not your husband, it’s your son.”

“What happened.”

“We can walk and talk.”

Halle entered her kitchen to find Zuri and Henri passed out by an half-eaten chocolate cake.

“Zuri!”

“Mamma?” The boy sleepily responded.

“How did you get here?”

“Well we were feeling sleepy and Uncle Maxwell said that if we eat a lot of sugar we can stay awake until midnight.”

“Like the grown-ups,” Henri added.

“Well, how grown up do the two of you feel?”

Zuri groaned, “Well being a grown-up means being tired.”

“My tummy hurts.”

“I bet it does.”

Halle wiped the chocolate frosting smeared on the boys' faces, then put the chocolate cake in the fridge. While wiping down the counter, she saw a sight that made her stop in her tracks. Her eyes scanned the liquor cabinet and landed on a full bottle of her favorite, Hennessy Pure White. Halle smiled. I am gonna make my way back to you, beloved, she thought to herself.

Halle motioned for Bastien to grab Henri while she grabbed Zuri. In Zuri’s room, she changed both of them out of their cake soiled pajamas and into clean ones and put them to bed. She sent Kiara a text letting her know where her son was. As soon as both boys were sound asleep in their beds, Halle beelined back to the kitchen. Once there, she found the Hennessy Pure White that was flirting with her earlier.

“Come to Mama!”

Halle made herself a quick, but potent island punch and rejoined the party upstairs, drink in hand.

Later on that night a little closer to midnight, Liam was looking for his wife to have a moment alone but had not seen her since she made him hold Asher for a quick bathroom break. There was a tug on his pant leg. He looked down to see Lilah trying to get his attention.

“Ready for bed?” He asked picking her up.

She slowly shook her head. “No. I will make it to midnight like the grown-ups.”

“You do not have to. If you feel tired, I can tuck you in. I am sure Zuri is already asleep.”

“I’m okay, papa,” she said before stifling a yawn.

“Let’s go find mamma though.”

“Mamma is over there.”

The room fell quiet as Liam turned his head. Hana was in front of the baby grand piano while Halle laid atop it. Halle perked up when Hana started to play the opening bars to a song. Liam was familiar with the melody, but couldn’t grasp the words or the name. Then he heard it.

“I believe the children are our future…”

Lilah buried her head in the crook of her father’s neck.

“No, mama, no,” she whined covering her ears.

“Teach them well and let them lead the way. Show them all the beauty they possess insiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide.”

Hana giggled as Halle drew out that last note but continued her flawless playing.

“Give them a sense of pride….”

“You have lost all of yours, Halle,” Drake mumbled to himself. “Question is which bottle of Hennessey took it.”

Kiara smacked her husband hard on the chest. He responded with a shrug and finished off the finger of scotch in his glass. Liam moved towards the front of the room holding their daughter, not only to get a better view of the show but to be ready to intervene if things went downhill.

Halle slid off the piano and approached her husband and daughter, continuing to sing.

“Let the children's laaaaaaaaughter remind us how we used to beeeeeeee.”

She booped Lilah on the nose. Lilah snuggled into her father more.

“Every–”

“Everybody's searching for a hero,” Maxwell sang joining the Queen.

Halle strode to his side and whispered, My time to shine.

Maxwell whispered back, Sharing is caring.

“People need someone to look up to, I never found anyone who fulfilled my neeeeeeeeeds,” He continued. “A lonely place to be, and so I learned to depend on meeee.”

Not being one to be outdone or overtaken, Halle cut back in, raising her voice. “I decided long ago, never to walk in anyone's shadows.”

Maxwell roared back, “If I fail, if I succeeeeeeeeed, at least I'll live as I believeeeee.”

“No matter what they take from me, they can't take away my dignityyyyyyy!” Halle sang back, dramatically pointing to her chest.

“The greaaaaaaaatesssssst love of allllllllll–” Maxwell sang.

Halle turned to face him, “Is happening to meeeee!”

Maxwell stepped closer, “I found the greatest love of all, inside of me”

“THE GREATEST LOVE OF ALL–”

“IS EASY TO ACHIEVE!”

They both stopped for a moment. Hana stopped playing once she saw that they went silent. They stared at each other. Maxwell was red in the face. Halle had developed some sweat along her hairline. When the moment could not get any tenser, they broke down and started laughing.

“Learning to love yourself,” they sang in unison, “it is the greatest love of all.”

Everyone in the room applauded the impromptu performance.

Maxwell and Halle embraced. Halle held him close and whispered, we will talk about you leaving my son alone with a sheet cake later. Maxwell gulped and smiled nervously while everyone applauded. Hana stood from behind the piano and joined the two of them. They linked hands and took a final bow.

Halle joined Liam and Lilah. She gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead as she continued to rest on her father’s shoulder.

“You wanted to drop the mic and say ‘Sexual Chocolate’ so bad, didn’t you?” Liam whispered.

She let out a disappointed sigh, “No need to rub it in.” He rubbed her back soothing her mild disappointment.

“Oh my God! It’s almost midnight!” Savannah shouted from across the room.

Everyone counted down the final moments of the year. When the clock struck midnight, the first minute of the new year was filled with the sound of applause, champagne poppers, party horns. Couples kissed. Bottles of champagne were opened with loud pops and served to everyone.

Lilah perked up a little during the commotion but quickly returned to sleeping on Liam’s shoulder. He and Halle brought her to bed before returning to their guests.

The party went on for a little while longer after that and when it was finally over, Liam and Halle were finally alone in the Royal Chambers. They were in their bed, still awake, despite the long party. Liam pressed his forehead against Halle’s.

“Happy new year, my love.”

“Happy new year, my king.”

His hand cupped her face as he dipped down to kiss her. She pressed herself closer to him returning it.

“We didn’t sneak off during this party to have any time to ourselves,” Halle commented.

“We are alone now.”

“We are.”

Liam yawned, “Want to raincheck in the morning.”

Halle nodded, “Yeah.”

With that, they began the new year the way they planned to spend the rest of their lives, together, in each other’s arms.

#the royal romance #the royal romance fanfic #liam x mc #liam x mc fanfiction #liam x halle #playchoices

40 notes · View notes