#LIKE. cash is the only character to speak full sentences in english

[thatgirlwritingficsatnight]

Odi et Amo I

Odi et amo. Quare id faciam fortasse requiris? nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior

Catullus, 85

After a few years of working in the USA for Disney and playing the role of The White Fox in Marvel Cinematic Universe you came back to your motherland - Korea only to be greeted with hatred and contempt. To make things harder for you the universe sends you the most irritating neighbour ™. Will you be able to find your happiness and  accomplish your dream of becoming loved actress in Korea without complying with standards of patriarchal society?

pairing: Park Jinyoung x reader

genre: actor au

warnings: angst, foul language (please don’t read it if you’re not old enough)

words: 5582

A/N: Hi this is my first fanfic ever, and so there are few things I have to say before you hopefully enjoy reading it. 1. English is not my first language so there may be some grammatical errors. I’m sorry, perhaps in the future there will be someone to proofread my works. 2. I’m terribly sorry for my interpunction :( for some reason they don’t teach it here  and so it may be terrible. I am reading about it more but it’s not easy for me as I haven’t practiced enough. I’m really sorry if it’s awkward. 3. This was supposed to be long oneshot, but I was told not all people enjoy long reads on tumblr like I do, so I decided to make a miniseries out of it. Let me know if you enjoyed it and if you want me to write some scenarios, or post more of my works (i have a lot of them in the depths of my drive lol). Love, thatgirlwritingficsatnight.

***

You sat in spacious sofa in your old apartment in Korea. A sigh leaving your lips as you looked through the headlines.

"The black sheep of Korean show biz comes back after four years in USA"

"Whose heart will she eat now? National heartbreaker came back to Korea"

"Go back to USA you wh*re! - internet went wild over L/N Y/N"

"L/N Y/N comes back in outrageous style"

Most of them were a summary or perhaps a reminder for k-netizens why they should hate you; it's because you dated who you wanted to and for how long you wanted to, it's because this one time in the talk show you told off male host when he kept asking about your private life and because the other time you told another one to stop giving you all the questions about clothes and make up while your male co-star got to answer some deep questions about character development and that's to name the few reasons that came instantly to your mind. Of course some articles had to focus on your airport fashion too. The conservative Korean society had a problem with your bra, or rather a lack of thereof under your designer t-shirt. You left out an irritated groan as you scrolled to the comments. They were vicious and vulgar, you don't know what else did you expect honestly. You tossed the phone and buried your face in your hands fighting the urge to tweet something about the nasty people and how they should keep their antediluvian opinions to themselves. You sighed again perhaps if you were in a different country you'd do that, but here with systematic misogyny, where women were supposed to always smile and nod their heads, here where they got paid 60% of men's pay... you'd most likely be crucified. Then again who if not you would come to your defense? You knew the answer — no one, that realization was enough to anger you even more. The blood was boiling inside you as you snatched your phone back and went into Twitter silently mouthing apologies to your manager who'd be blowing your phone in just a few minutes.

 "Yes, I don't wear bras. No, it's not a topic for your article nor your problem. I also know it may shock some people but my dating life is not a topic for your entertainment either."

"It baffles me how Korean society thinks its country is in the group of one of the most civilized ones but still treats women as if we were stuck in 50s."

  Your phone was already blowing with notifications, you could see some new articles already popping and soon after that it buzzed as your manager tried to reach you. You silenced your phone and left it on the coffee table while you moved to the kitchen. You got yourself a lamp of wine and watched always busy streets of Seoul from a window. It was already dark and it looked like rivers of light with cars and street lights constantly illuminating them. You were deep in your thoughts as you pondered if you made a good decision. You had a good life in California. You had your best friend there, a house with a pool and many good opportunities for roles you declined. In those four years you became an international star after your role as Marvel's White Fox — a gumiho superhero. You knew in a year or two Disney would ask you to come back to make more movies and most likely you would but you couldn't stay in the USA any longer. Somehow, even though it seemed illogical considering the warm welcome you've got, you still missed your home. You missed Korea the country that loved to hate you. You weren't exaggerating when you said they loved to hate you, for instance you always played villains in Korean films and dramas and the Korean audience loved it. They loved to hate your characters and so every time you tried to audition for a role that would be first or second lead you'd always be cast as the villain. The very first time you played a good character was when you portrayed the White Fox for Marvel, they chose you because you were half American (on your father's side) and because you used to play femme fatales and that was kinda the character. You accepted the role secretly hoping that it would change the way Korea has seen you. It didn't. They said you were too Westernised and that you weren't true Korean and had their own perfect casting with actresses that weren't as scandalous as you. Well, at least the rest of the world loved you. Nonetheless, you came back. You still weren't sure if it was a good idea or for how long, or even if you'd work here or just relax; you were just happy you could eat unhealthy convenience store food whenever you felt like and that kimchi was a standard and not something you'd only find in specific shops. Speaking of, you craved some ramyun with cheese and perhaps some yakult as well. You changed your clothes into a pair of black sweats and a black hoodie and chose to wear a black cap and face mask as well. You checked yourself in a huge mirror in the corridor. Your outfit screamed two things: first was "I am a crazy murderer from drama" and and second "look at me I'm a celebrity". You sighed. Honestly what else could you wear? You decided not to change and went out to the nearest convenience store.

You walked slowly taking your time to get to the store while listening to Def Soul hoping lazy beats would calm your nerves. You bopped your head to the rhythm as you entered the store and went straight into ramyun section. You picked your favourite spicy one and grabbed some cheese, yakult and cherry coke. The girl working there seemed really young and you caught her yawning. She apologized and you smiled warmly although she probably couldn't see it through the mask.

"Don't worry about it I'm tired today as well." you said, and she smiled. You paid with a card and regretted not withdrawing any money so that you could tip her. You remember when you were just a bit younger than her, working in similar way but back in the USA; she’d appreciate extra cash. You took the ramyun to prepare it and hummed as you waited for the noodles to get soft. Food always got you to feel better. You were spreading cheese on your noodles when middle-aged men entered the shop. Soon you'd believe it's not your night or perhaps that you got some bad karma, or that you were just cursed. The men came up to the cashier and asked for a pack of cigarettes. You were about to slurp the first noodles when he spoke.

"When will you finish your shift cutie maybe I can pick you up?" He chuckled and the girl tried to smile politely although anyone with eyes could see how uncomfortable she felt. She tried to decline his advances with a small scared voice clearly she was too young to feel comfortable enough to just curse him out.

"You sluts are always the same. You smile at me flirt with me and then act all fucking.."

"Aish!" you didn't let him finish. And he turned your way surprised someone else was in the store. "I lost all appetite," you dropped the chopsticks next to the bowl and moved your gaze at the male: disgust was rolling off from you in waves, and he flinched upon meeting your eyes, "then again who wouldn't if they had to eat in the presence of trash?" You watched as his face got all red and furious, it seemed almost twisted now. "How dare you speak like that to me, you bi..." once again he couldn't finish his sentence this time you silenced him with your swift actions. You closed the distance between the two of you and grabbed his hand firmly. Then you put it behind his back and twisted it painfully enough for him to groan.

"Call me a bitch, I dare you." you said quietly, but he didn't respond, he just jerked trying to escape your hold. He smelled like tobacco, digested alcohol and grease. You scrunched your nose and took him out of the store. You pushed him lightly, and yet he still lost balance and fell. He shot you a glare full of hate and fury while you tried to remain calm. Truth to be told you were scared, yes you jumped in to help the girl, and successfully silenced him, but that was most likely only because he wasn't sober. You were silently asking universe to help you out as you mustered your courage and played your part of "fearless Y/N”.

"Leave or I'll call the police and tell them you harassed both me and the girl." He stood up and spit under your legs before he left. You sighed, a tight knot unravelling itself finally in your belly, adrenaline that was brought up with the surge of fury disappearing now, leaving you bit wobbly. You made mental note to thank the director of The White Fox for making you take those material arts classes, they came in handy. You came back to the store, you didn’t pay attention to the girl that watched you in awe. You just wanted to enjoy your noodles. Finally, able to take the bite you let out disgusted groan they got too soft. Letting out resigned sigh you opened the yakult.

"Miss Y/N.." small voice started next to you. The girl was blushing and smiling. She was cute, had long brown hair and a mole just under her left eye. You smiled back and it seemed to encourage her. "Thank you. You are like the coolest unnie ever. I will always support you and fight anyone that calls you names and.." You chuckled at her eagerness and sudden flood of words. "Thanks kid. What's your name? "Kim Seoyun." "Nice to meet you Kim Seoyun. I'm L/N Y/N." you said with a smile, and she blushed even more. You looked through the window and bit the inside of your cheek. What if he comes back when you're gone, you couldn’t risk it. "Tell me Seoyun when do you end your shift?" She took out a phone from her pocket. "Oh, in ten minutes." "Great I'll wait for you and order you a taxi." "Ah, unnie you don't have to… you already helped me enough and.." "Nonsense", you cut her off "he may come back and I'll sleep better knowing you are safe at home."

She nodded and came back to work. Leaving you with your soggy and lukewarm noodles. You thought about throwing it out but you hated wasting food and so you made yourself eat at least a bit although now it was cold and awfully soft. Ten minutes passed rather quickly and soon you found yourself standing next to the taxi with Seoyun. You gestured her to get in, but she stood in front of you and suddenly bowed deeply while extending her hands in front of you. Much to your surprise she was giving you a popsicle.

"Y/N-unnie I know it's not much but I wanted to thank you..."

You grinned at her while taking the gift. You quickly unwrapped it and tried it, it was strawberry flavoured.

"Thank you. It's the best popsicle I've ever had." You said honestly. Seoyun blushed and entered the car but before the taxi took off she lowered the car window and screamed.

"Y/N-unnie from today I'm your biggest fan! Unnie fighting!" You laughed.

"Mmm. Thank you!" After that car took off and you happily walked back home. Earphones in, phone in your hand as you decided to order some food since the ramyun sadly haven't been quite satisfying. You slurped at the popsicle even though it was the time of year when nights got colder. The taste of strawberries melted on your tongue. It was the first time someone in Korea told you they were your fan, it was also the first time a Korean fan gave you a gift. Despite the chilly air, and cold ice against your lips you felt warmth spreading from your chest. Grinning to yourself, you scrolled through different restaurants still thinking of what should you eat and then you bumped into someone or rather someone bumped into you. Popsicle fell to the ground and so did your phone with earphones brutally torn out from your ears. The man who bumped into you was in a very similar attire as your own he even wore a mask and a cap. You frowned upon realizing the gift from your first Korean fan was melting next to you. You were however about to apologize before he spoke in irritated tone while collecting some boxes scattered around you two.

"Next time watch where you're going." The blood inside you boiled the third time this evening and you snapped back at him before he could add anything else.

"Maybe you should watch where you're going." your tone was so aggressive it was clear all of the frustrations from today's evening build up in you. You gathered your things quickly.

"Excuse me..." he said straightening as he glared at you. His tone was promising a fight or a lecture at least. You didn't feel like any of that so once again today you didn't let someone finish their sentence, a habit of yours as it seems.

"Apologies accepted, asshole." you said fiercely and left him standing there with his stupid boxes in a state of shock. You got into the elevator and decided not to pay anyone any more of your thoughts tonight. You smiled at wooden popsicle stick and quickly forgot about the man downstairs.

Jinyoung was still shocked but also amused by your witty comeback. He knew he reacted upon his emotions when he was rude to you. He was just angry that he had to move the second time in the last two months. Sasaengs somehow found out about his last apartment in which he lived for only two weeks and just started feeling at home. Few days ago they found him, and he was harassed once again. Tired and angry he acted without thinking when you bumped into him and his belongings scattered. He wanted to apologize right away but you growled back at him, and he got irritated, so he wanted to lecture you or at least tell you not to interrupt other people when they are speaking, but you did just that and in very smart matter at that as well. Now Jinyoung was riding an elevator trying to pinpoint your face, he was sure he had seen you somewhere already. He entered his flat and sighed as he realized he had to unpack once again. He decided it could wait till morning.

You were woken up by both pounding and drilling in the wall behind your head. With long groan you pulled a pillow over your head but it didn't help much. You checked the time on your phone. It was seven thirty in the morning and you couldn't fall asleep till three - courtesy of your jet lag. You tried to ignore it hoping that you were sleepy and tired enough to fall asleep, unfortunately to no avail.

"Who the hell does the renovation on Saturday morning?" you asked your own walls with furious tone. You left the bed deciding to speak with the person next door. You didn't even bother to change from your PJ or brush your teeth, or hair, or even to throw something over yourself. You left your apartment in your bunny pyjama set, a gift from your best friend. Soon you were pounding angrily at the door. It took quite some time before the drilling inside stopped and someone opened the door. The man who opened seized you up and down with his eyes and coughed in his fist diverting his gaze somewhere else.

"Can I help you?" he asked his voice was a bit distressed. "I sure hope you can. It's Saturday seven in the morning." you were fuming, and he finally looked at you although he kept his eyes stuck to your face. "Ah... thank you for informing me. Are you working as personal calendar and clock for all of your neighbours or am I on some special treatment?" he asked sarcastically and smirked which made you: first bewildered and second even more mad if that's possible. "Let me rephrase that for you: it's Saturday, early morning and you are drilling in a wall." "Well, technically it was Mr Ahn who was drilling, I was enjoying myself with a book." He clearly enjoyed teasing you, there was this gleam in his eyes. "Don't you think that's a bit too early for a renovation?" your voice was seething with venom although you tried to keep your cool. "Quite contrary. I checked with the building manager, and I am only supposed to keep quiet between ten p.m and seven a.m. as you can see I even waited thirty minutes." He smiled at you and in that second you hated him, his stupid brown hair, strangely symmetrical face, weirdly tight cardigan and the fact that you couldn't do much since he was in the right. You just turned on your heels ready to storm off back to your flat when he spoke again. "Ah, and might I add I just love your fashion sense." he raised one brow and his eyes once again travelled through your body. "Excuse me?"

"Apologies accepted." Your face went from frowned and angry to shocked in a second, and he laughed at your reaction before closing the doors and leaving you cursing yourself, your luck and your best friend who thought it would be cute to buy you pyjama set which contained of hoodie with ears and a bunny tail and some shorts.

You entered your apartment, deep red setted on your face from both anger and embarrassment. As soon as you closed the doors the drilling continued. You cursed under the breath and went to shower. You stood long under the stream letting the water wash away both dirt and emotions. Once you were clean and ready for the day you’ve decided to ditch your flat for now since it was too loud for you anyway. This time you went for less sporty look but still all black. It was a turtleneck, slacks, martens and a beret. Chic and comfortable. You did  your makeup and hair and went out for breakfast. The car was already waiting for you when you got downstairs. You pulled a black mask over your face and greeted the driver who didn't talk much and so you didn't have to worry about the small talk. You scrolled through your phone checking the messages you got from your manager — there was about twenty of them and somehow each was written with different emotion: rage, irritation, sadness, hopelessness and so on. You sighed knowing that you should probably apologize for the troubles you caused him. Then again what were you supposed to do, not react when half of this country is calling you names? You signed back in your Twitter only to be greeted by thousands of notifications. Most of which were trolls and haters commenting on your tweets with occasional death threats in your DMs. You tried your very best not to read each and every comment knowing that even though you were strong it still affected you. You were; however, positively surprised when you found some supporting voices. There was your best friend (obviously) who fiercely defended you and called out everyone on their bull, he even threatened legal action and you smiled brightly at his tweets, but there were also few Korean celebrities who took your side and defended you as well. Most importantly there were few normal people, fans perhaps, who applauded you and thanked for speaking out. You smiled when you saw user "Y/NUnnieFandomPresidentSeoyun" somewhere in your notifications. Somehow traffic was still bad even on weekend and it took you forty minutes to get to the café you had in mind. Once you got there however you didn't regret time spend on travel. It was café in quiet part of town, it wasn't very popular since it wasn't in Gangnam but because of that it was one of your favourites. No paparazzi, no dispatch, no other celebrities.

The place itself wasn't very big but it had huge windows and was located in front of the park so you could easily grab a coffee and go for a walk or just stay inside and watch people and kids spending their time at the park. The interior wasn't anything special either, it wasn't one of those Instagram worthy cafés. It had simple modern style. You came in and ordered coffee and some toasts and sat in front of the window. There were few people inside so you sat without your mask freely and wondered if your friend was already sleeping. It was around nine here so in Los Angeles it was probably midnight. You texted him asking if he's sleeping, and he just responded by facetiming you right away. His black hair was still wet from shower, and he wasn't wearing any shirt.

"Yah! Y/N-ah!" he scolded you immediately. "How dare you not text or call your best friend for over a day. Do you know how worried I was?" You rolled your eyes at him.

"It's not like you contacted me either. And put some clothes on Tuan."

"Never. I know you secretly love watching my chest."

"Gross. Anyway.. I haven't called because I was tired yesterday, you know jet lag and all of that, so don't get mad at me."

"How are you now?" His playfulness was replaced by concern and it was clear he wasn't really asking about the quality of your sleep which was in fact terrible thanks to your lovely neighbour.

"I'm fine." He gave you the look. "Really. Honestly I didn't expect anything better from what I got, so I'm fine Mark."

"I shouldn't have let you go. You know what? Those people don't deserve you. Come back to the USA and let's live together again I'll even cook. Or I can come to you I'll fight them and keep you company. I'm can easily stream from there.." You giggled at him and he grinned. "You know I'm serious though you can come back I already miss you anyway. God, I should have married you maybe you wouldn't leave me Y/N-ah..." he was whiny again and you laughed. It was an inside joke between you. Both yours and his parents would always tell you to just marry already but neither of you felt anything romantic towards the other one. You'd known each other since you were two and both of you had treated each other like siblings ever since.

"You should have and now it's too late. I'll find myself new victim and feast on their heart like a true gumiho I am." you said in theatrical manner while munching on your toast.

"Honestly who the fuck writes those articles?"

"I don't know but I'm pretty sure... Oh my god. You've got to be kidding me." you said and tried to lower your face down so that the person passing in front of the window you've been sitting by couldn't see you.

"What? What? Is that paparazzi? Your ex? Is that paparazzi rented by your ex?" You frowned at your friend.

"What? No? It's my asshole neighbour." "Never heard of him. Why are we hiding anyway? You can just tell him to back off. Last time I checked you were great at that." He showed you two thumbs up and smiled broadly. "I'm hiding because I'm embarrassed and I don't want to talk to him." "Why?" he laughed. "What did you do?" "I didn't do anything it was that stupid PJ you got me..." you whispered at him while trying to make yourself as small as possible. "Oh my god. One day in Korea and you already got yourself a one-night stand. This is not how I raised you. What would your mother say?" he teased you and giggled. "For the love of... it's not like that." you said angrily a bit too loud perhaps since the men in question who was just ordering by the counter turned around and looked you dead in the eyes. His neutral expression changing to surprised before it transformed to smirk. You cursed yourself and Mark and bowed your head slightly and awkwardly before you turned around to face your now laughing friend.

"You should see your face."

"Shut up. I hate you."

"You love me."

"What a surprise." Third voice spoke up by your side and you cringed a little before you put on your cold mask on.

"A surprise indeed." You said, your neighbour moved his eyes from your face to the screen of your phone carefully placed against the glass. Mark was still there, still half naked and smirking at you.

"Am I interrupting something?"

"Yes."

"No." you and Mark said at the same time and you send him death glare regretting that you couldn't kick him right now. "I was about to go to sleep anyway. Love you."

He disappeared without waiting for your response. You let out soft sigh and reach out for phone.

"Do you mind if I join you?" The man was already sitting next to you. He was smiling at you and perhaps any other person would say it was a warm type of smile but you felt like he was mocking you. Constantly. You straightened up in your seat and eyed him closely. He was wearing the same tight cardigan, it was accentuating his broad frame and muscles hidden underneath soft, brown cashmere and simple but well fitted blue jeans. You had to admit he was handsome and had somehow angelic face which only made you cringe once you compared it to his personality or at least to what he showed you already. "I don't think that's a good idea." You said after a pause, his expression didn't change for a second, and he sipped on coffee that blushing waitress brought a few seconds ago. "How so?" His voice was sweet and melodic, it irritated you even more. "I am a celebrity, there might be an article about me having coffee with you tomorrow." You kept your tone intentionally bored as you played with the spoon. He laughed and you changed your mind his speaking voice couldn't be called melodic when his laughter sounded so beautifully.

"That's funny. I'm celebrity as well I think I'll survive." It wasn't surprising at all, he was too good-looking to not be an idol, a model or an actor perhaps. You held back another sigh. You could already see the headlines "Y/N attacks again will this man keep up with her appetite" or perhaps "One day in Korea, and she already dates — check out Y/N and her new boy toy". "Yeah I doubt it." you said but quickly added. "Weren't you supposed to renovate your apartment anyway?" "I left it to Mr Ahn it got too loud for me to read in peace."

"I can imagine." Sarcasm was basically dripping from your tongue which only seemed to amuse him even more. His eyes were now twinkling and you thought that he must be a devil in disguise. "I must say it's very lucky that I met you here. What are the odds, right?" "Ah I wouldn't call it lucky, that's for sure." You were currently planning how to escape from this conversation. "So how about we get to know each other a bit better?" He proposed with a warm smile. "I don't think so. I don't even know you." "Oh. That's harsh you do know me. I'm your neighbour and this is our third meeting." He placed a hand over his heart and frowned in pain and you wondered how can one still look handsome while frowning before he continued. "Besides I can fix that. I'm Park Jinyoung nice to meet you. See now we know each other." You fought and urge to roll your eyes and you summoned the most polite looking smile you had in your arsenal. Your phone rang before you could say anything and you've never been more happy to see your manager's face appearing on your screen.

"I'm sorry I have to take it." you said politely, and he just nodded. "Oh I wasn't expecting you to pick up." "Ah manager-nim don't be like that I haven't been picking up only for one day." "Why are you so polite are you with someone?" "Yes." You glared at Jinyoung, he was watching you with a smile with coffee in his hand. "Ok, I can call later." "No!" you almost screamed and cleared your throat trying to remain composure. "No, it's fine." "O-ok. Do you have time today? We should meet and talk I just got something that may interest you. It's really nice drama. I know you said you don't want to play in any of those romantic stories but hear me out this one is..." you'd roll your eyes if not for your neighbour's curious eyes. "Of course when and where will we meet?" You decided to cut off his rumbling. "Really? Before departure, you said you won't play in any stupid drama again." "Ah, I see. I did say that. We should meet today, text me the address then." Hanging up on him, you hoped he got the brains to follow up with text. He thankfully did and your phone barked. Jinyoung laughed again and you gave him confused look. "Did your phone just bark at you?" You blushed against yourself. Was it so weird to have a dog's bark as your message sound? "Ah... yes. I like dogs." You cringed on yourself. Somehow today in front of this man you were constantly losing your cool. He either irritated you or made you flustered enough to forget any eloquent comebacks or eloquence at all. "Anyway it was nice meeting you Jinyoung-ssi but I have to meet up with my manager."

"Oh you're leaving without even properly introducing yourself?" He cocked a brow on you and smirked. You stood up and looked at him coldly. "I'm sorry I don't feel the need." You were about to leave before he spoke again. "Ah… running already... startled... like a true bunny. Come to think of it... it does have a nice ring into it, doesn't it? Bunny. It suits you and you even have a costume already." His voice was so extremely mocking that you felt the irritation buzzing in you like electricity. Not to mention he spoke so loudly the waitress that was blushing at him before now listened carefully. You groaned internally. What if she writes about it somewhere. Media won't let you live especially that he is your neighbour they'd say he is already in love with you. And "bunny" was such a couple pet name. You were in the midst of your internal crisis before he decided to speak again.

"Have nice day bun.." You reacted before you thought, your hand slapped against his mouth before he could say anything more. His eyes got bigger, he was clearly shocked that you were so close to him, that you touched him and that you didn't really care about your language. You on the other had were fuming. You've met your fair share of fuckboys, assholes and idiots but not one of them that had similar status to yours acted with such insolence in public where other people could see you. Well, almost none, perhaps your ex was the only one. You kept your voice quiet, loud enough only for him to hear.

"Shut up. And watch your tongue before I pull it out because the universe be my witness I will and I'll do it with pleasure. My name is not kitten, bunny or any other pet name your buffoon head comes up with. It's Y/N. My name is bloody Y/N." You hissed out and his hand reach out to yours. It was hot from coffee and soft even though his grasp was firm. He took your hand of his mouth and smiled.

"Nice to meet you."

You took a step back and send him the look that must have looked like you were trying to shoot daggers at him.

"I'm sure it is. Now if you excuse me. I don't want to be late."

You rushed to counter to pay only to find out it was already taken care of by Jinyoung. You furrowed your brows and wanted to give him his money back instantly but your phone buzzed and it was your cue to leave. The driver was here.

To Mark 🐰 💙 : One day Tuan... you'll pay for this betrayal

From Mark 🐰 💙 : ILY 2 good night. P.S. He seemed hot 👀

You rolled your eyes how hot was he didn't matter if his sole personality drove you crazy only after three brief meetings. You sighed. This was not how you wanted to spend this day: enraged twice and on your way to see your manager.

Keep reading

[humanmosquito]

this is definitely gonna be a ramble-y post but i’ll neaten it when i’m done. (edit:  didn’t really but I’m sick of this sitting here already)

I’ve put this under a cut for obvious reasons. There’s more things I didn’t like about this book but I forgot most of the plot immediately after reading it.

Given the usual time skips in Clare’s work you’d think this would be 6 months down the line and Livvy would have been completely forgotten about and is mentioned sporadically to motivate the main characters. 

I’m not really buying the shock of Livvy’s sudden death i would say Clare’s done a job here and she’s certainly tried, but i’m not buying it.

Her treatment of Gay Characters (capitalisation necessary) is bad but so much worse with Alec than any others and i hate reading about her Alec bc of the way she infantilises him. Also has Clare seriously not found any way to solve problems in her own fictional universe without constantly reintroducing the same guy??? (who is also just a bunch of stereotypes of queer men) (Magnus)

you don’t need to use two separate images to describe people moving in the background, it’s fine.

why is Christina using Spanish pet names when we’ve never seen her using Spanish conversationally before? also, ( and this is a very specific thing to to be so worked up about like 4 years after i read it the first time) but why do whatshisname and Christina have to talk in English instead of implying the conversation was in Spanish but had been translated or even mention it at all? (okay, coming back in later to say that she does use Spanish randomly in this book, Clare has a habit of making Latine characters use Spanish randomly to show they’re Latine.

isn’t Mark 20 or something? I’m legitimately confused about these lines.

there’s no need to suddenly start using fancier language for two whole sentences. also you can just say she visited a wax museum or even Just Madame Tussaud’s (which i’m guessing is the place we’re talking about). also: why is all the dialogue in this book so stiff and overly formal? I know they’re in shock and some of them are functionally strangers but it’s still so off from how people normally speak. (I’m willing to excuse the faerie characters because everyone who writes faeries makes them speak super flowery but that’s it)

there’s no break between Mark and Helen’s POV.

 I’m pretty sure than Simon is secular, why is he suddenly sprouting hebrew? (CC makes no effort to show him engaging with judaism in any form and has him Christmas shopping at one point in tmi)

wouldn’t that make it much easier to break in? (this is needlessly pedantic, I know)

A lot of people said that Emma just becomes a way to talk about how amazing Julian is and I’m beginning to see that. She focuses on the sound he makes walking along a hallway way too much. (Also: coming back a week later to add that Julian just gets worse and worse and for a character that we’re supposed to love(?), he has absolutely no redeeming qualities.)

Doesn’t witchlight only light up when a shadowhunter is holding it? I remember that from TID.

The rally with Dearborn feels like an attempt at the bit at the beginning of 1984 where they’re watching the propaganda video and the woman is crying out for big brother. also, there’s no way to write people chanting someone’s name that doesn’t make it feel like mediocre fanfiction, huh? The whole scene is very over the top and not at all like the actual process of radicalisation. 

who thinks like this? Who thinks about themself like this?

The descriptions of the shadowhunters at the funeral are weird. Emma is described as putting on gear then wearing a dress, Christina has a gear jacket over a dress and Ty is in full gear.

she’s not even being subtle about stealing plot points from the tv show, is she?

why does she keep choosing random words to translate into Spanish? It isn’t necessary unless the word also means a specfic type of that word. A vela isn’t a specific type of candle, that’s just the Spanish word for candle. 

Doesn’t Jonathon Shadowhunter creating runes go against tsc canon? No one could make new runes except Clary because of her extra angel blood. (I should know, I read the fucking Shadowhunter codex). (there are more instances of CC creating thing that go against canon but i kinda got bored of making this list after here)

(I know the answer to this one is just CC’s incest fetish but) Why did everybody just let Christina get engaged to her cousin?

I have to say that my suspension of disbelief lasted longer than I thought it would but it ends with Julian killing a Rider with a D&D figurine.

The whole Thule bit feels like it was copy-pasted from ao3 (While we’re on the subject of copied from ao3 “Ragnor Fell lives” is such a “saw it on Tumblr” cop out)

how did the cohort get Jaime? It’s not explained and I wish it was.

Julian sucks. capital-S Sucks. For the guy Emma is facing Losing her Shadowhunter life for and going into exile for, he’s a dick, with emotions he comes off as creepy, over-sexed and obsessed. Without he’s somehow even worse.

Zara calling Cl*ce disgusting and being called wrong for it is such an obvious dig at the people who criticised Clare when she wrote them nearly fucking in a ditch when they thought they were bio siblings. (I’m p sure they’re also adopted siblings and they consider the same man their dad, so it would still be incest.) 

Also, she’s so one-dimensional and every scene with her, especially in the last 1/2 of the book was exactly the same. (emma attacks her but decides to let her go which was a ~mistake~ with consequences (consequences being “we see Zara again”))

It's not even a subtle D*mbl*dore's Army rip-off, huh?

I take back all the things I thought about Clare improving as a writer, chapter 33 makes literally no sense, also cannot do dialogue or consistent characterisation. (how did any of these get published, TMI especially)

Once again, Clare seems to be stealing plot points from the TV show. (Of course there’s going to be some overlap between the show and books even after it diverged from book canon but it’s getting pretty ridiculous at this point, isn’t it?). 

Okay, every woc in this book is here to further the white protagonists’ story (which i guess is the purpose of supporting characters but the white supporting characters do fuck all) And i get they have their own love interests but it was super forced (don’t @ me for this, Kierarktina had potential but it was all rushed in the second half of this book because Clare realised what a cash cow it was)

Diana gets a little tropey (Speaking as a trans person) but her treatment b Vlare and the other characters was okay. I do wish she was allowed more personality than “no one can love me or know me because I’m trans” (it’s stupid and overused) and “helps the Blackthorns and Emma”. (also Clare knows that you don’t stop taking HRT, right? it isn’t a limited course, it’s not Gender-Changing Antibiotics.)

My final thing is that it went on way too long, like, insufferably long. (you’d think long enough to explain some plot holes, but no.)

[dovebuffy92]

https://www.fanbolt.com/113429/the-serpent-miniseries-re-constructing-murders/

THE SERPENT MINISERIES: RE-CONSTRUCTING MURDERS

Spoilers Below

British true-crime drama miniseries The Serpent, written by Richard Warlow and Tob Finlay, mainly takes place in the mid-1970s following multiracial French serial killer Charles Sobhraji and his lover French Canadian Marie-Andrée Leclerc. The eight-part series explores how Charles got away with murdering and poisoning “hippy” travelers throughout South Asia. Only Dutch diplomat Herman Knippenberg hunts for the serial killer.

The main problem with The Serpent is the minimalization of the character Angela Knippenberg. The real Angela has said that actress Ellie Bamber who played her, did not correctly portray her. Something we can blame the writer and directors for more than Bamber.

In real life, Angela acted as her then-husband Herman’s detective partner during the hunt for Charles. The actual Angela says that she was a lot more forceful with her opinions than how Bamber portrayed her.

In The Serpent, Angela acts like Herman’s assistant and moral support rather than his equal in their shared quest. Warlow and Finlay wanted to show Herman as a lone detective obsessively trying to catch a killer with little to no support. They couldn’t do that if Angela were portrayed as being equally invested in stopping the killing of more Western backpackers. However, she indeed speaks six languages, including French. Like actual events in the series, Angela translates all of Marie-Andrée Leclerc’s diary entries and keeps a catalog of all the items they found at Sobhraji’s Bangkok apartment. At the end of The Serpent, Angela becomes forceful when she has had enough of Herman’s obsession with Charles. She flies back to Germany to be with her parents leaving her husband alone.

The Serpent’s use of repeating the same scene helps the viewers unravel the murders that Charles (alias Alain Gautier) committed mainly in Thailand. Usually, television shows or movies that don’t have a linear storyline lose a lot of character development or lack a cohesive plot, but this miniseries uses these devices perfectly. Scenes are shown from different character’s perspectives as only Charles knows the whole truth.

An example of multi-perspective storytelling is when Charles and Ajay drive off with American tourist Teresa Knowlton to take her to a sex club before she flies off the next day to become a Buddhist nun. The first time it’s shown is in the pilot when Marie-Andrée, as her persona Monique, and their French neighbor Nadine watch the group drive off. Both women smoke silently. It’s unclear how much either woman knows about Charles’ plan to kill Teresa and steal her identity. The second time is more from Monique’s perspective. When Monique watches the car, it’s clear that Charles is looking back at her. Nadine asks if she feels jealous when she sees Charles driving off with another woman. As Monique stares down from her balcony, she remarks that she is used to Alain’s behavior. Nadine comments that she couldn’t stand her if her husband Remi was openly cheating like that. Monique is too “sophisticated” to be a Quebecois.

Later, Charles commands her to cash Teresa’s traveler’s checks but doesn’t say what happened to the American. It’s unclear how much Monique knows about the murder, but she must know that they stole money from the drugged young woman. These different perspectives paint the whole picture of Charles’s crimes, along with how aware or unaware of the horrors they are.

Marie-Andrée is depicted as a morally grey character. Sometimes when she is inhabiting her role as Alian’s model wife Monique, she seems perfectly in line with Charles’ murderous rampages. Especially the part where he steals backpacker’s money and identities by drugging them. At other times Marie appears to be a brainwashed victim who is terrified of Charles. He bullies her to keep her in line. The viewer never knows if Marie-Andrée is a victim or an accomplice. I believe she is both.

She seems the most like one of the villains when she watches the Dutch couple, Helena Dekker and Jules Dupont, lay dying on their guest bed. Helena cries out for Monique to help them; Marie acts like she can’t hear her. It’s evident in this early scene that the Dutch couple will die, but she has zero compassion for them.

At other times, Marie- Andrée appears like one of Charles’ victims. For example, after she has a mental breakdown in the middle of a Nepalese street. She refuses to help hurt any more people. She has had enough of pretending to be Monique. Charles forces her back to their hotel. He bullies her into drinking tea that’s full of smashed-up sleeping pills. Charles essentially threatens Marie-Andrée’s life if she doesn’t drink the tea and leave herself vulnerable to him to show her trust.

The most emotionally charged part of The Serpent occurs toward the end of the series when Marie-Andrée visits Charles in his prison cell. Dying from ovarian cancer, she is about to be sent back home. She tells Charles about her “death sentence.” She now accepts he is a psychopath. She tried to deny his lack of real emotions toward her, but underneath everything knew he was a cold man. The nuns tell Marie-Andrée that she should forgive herself and Charles. She can’t forgive yet. Marie-Andrée tells the viewer that she shares the blame but is also one of Charles’ victims during the scene. The spell has been broken.

If you are a big fan of true crime or period dramas, I would recommend The Serpent. All the actors are on top of their game, especially Jenna Coleman. Coleman, who plays Marie-Andrée Leclerc, learned French and the Quebecois accent for the role. The episodes are in multiple languages, including English, Dutch, and French. But if you don’t like television shows that depict mental and physical cruelty, then you should stay away from the Netflix Original miniseries.

[absentlyabbie]

hey if it's not too late for the ask meme: tommy/oliver, reunited

@ayotofu i’m a whole month late but i never once forgot about this. hope it hits the spot

–

and it feels so—

out of the frying pan and into the fryer, oliver hasn’t had the chance to be relieved he’s no longer on lian yu, thanks to amanda waller and her plans and machinations. but not even the threat against maseo’s family can make oliver pull the trigger on his best friend.

it may be a stupid plan to kidnap tommy to covince him that oliver queen rots at the bottom of the ocean and the email alert that drew tommy to hong kong was a hacker’s ransom trap, but if it’s the only way oliver can keep tommy and maseo’s family alive, he’s willing to try.

it’s going great, really. tommy’s terror makes him easy to convince, and the heartbreak practically bleeds from tommy’s voice when oliver-as-hacker informs him oliver queen isn’t alive to log into his email almost three years after disappearing into the south china sea. oliver may be sick with guilt and pain and battling his own desperate longing to look his friend in the eye and maybe even go home, but he can all but hear tommy starting to accept that the man he’s looking for is long dead.

it’s even a kind of true, isn’t it? oliver is pretty sure he died when his dad pulled the trigger on himself. he’s just been the walking dead ever since.

only it goes just the wrong amount of sideways. in the stupidest way.

oliver stands just a little too much to the right. it’s almost funny, how easily it all comes crashing down. he stands too far to the right of tommy’s shoulder, shifts his weight just a little too much, and tommy’s had just enough time for his eyes to adjust to the lights when his head rolls back and—

the eye contact is like a thousand volts right to the chest. it’s less than a second, not even a heartbeat, nobody so much as breathes, but oliver watches it all race across tommy’s face—shock, bewilderment, recognition, disbelief, awe, rage—and the only saving grace is that oliver claps a hand over tommy’s mouth before tommy can get more than the first outraged syllable of oliver’s name out.

“shut up,” he hisses, desperate. maseo is due to bust in any second oh god oh shit oh fuck, what does he do now? “tommy just—just shut up, just trust me, fuck, i’m trying to get you out of this alive—”

it’s too late.

the sirens and yelling reek of falsity now, and oliver’s skin goes ice-cold as maseo in his stolen police uniform busts in, in-character and ready to help oliver fake this.

but the gun maseo is holding is very real and it only takes a single sweeping look for him to see nothing has gone according to plan.

oliver can’t take the chance that maseo will complete the original mission. if the last two and a half years have done anything for oliver, they’ve prepared him to act when there’s no time to think.

he shoves tommy’s chair over and in the same motion spins low across the dirt floor to come up under maseo’s gun arm, knocking the weapon from maseo’s hand and pulling him into a rough headlock.

it’s a struggle. maseo is better trained. he’s done this longer.

but in this exact second, oliver is more desperate, and he’s been that for longer.

“i’m sorry,” he hisses in maseo’s ear, grunting against maseo’s elbow in his gut, his nails raking at oliver’s arm through his sleeve. “i hope you come to quick and you get your wife and kid out of the city as fast as you can. i’m sorry. he’s my family.”

he keeps his arm jammed against maseo’s throat until maseo finally goes limp.

he lowers maseo gently into the dirt, recovers the gun, and moves swiftly to tommy.

he seems no worse for the tip to the floor, though the simmering expression on his face says it’s not exactly patience so much as the ropes binding his hands to the chair that have kept him waiting there. apologizing, his head going faintly numb with an ears-ringing surreality, oliver unties tommy and helps him stiffly to his feet.

“i don’t know if i should kiss you or kill you,” tommy all but spits, his eyes blazing-bright. “i’d be leaning more towards ‘kill you’ if i hadn’t just fucking got you back from the dead. i need… so many explanations.”

oliver swallows a thick, disagreeable knot of emotions, the joy and relief sinking like lead into the fear and dread, chased down by urgency. “you’ll have them. but later. i just risked that guy and his family’s lives and if we don’t disappear fast then they’re dead and so are we.”

“no worries, it doesn’t seem like that sticks to you, ollie,” tommy quips, massaging the blood back into his wrists. it’s a little bitter and a little wry, but oliver just wants to weep for being called ollie again, so he yanks tommy into a fast, hard hug.

it’s all they have time for.

tommy tries to steer them back to his dad’s hong kong villa, but oliver knows it’s under surveillance. this means the private merlyn jet is similarly out of the question. fortunately, tommy’s carrying a fat wad of local currency. “in case i needed to bribe people,” he explains, “for information about you.”

it only just starts to hit oliver what it means, that tommy had oliver’s email flagged for activity alerts, that tommy flew halfway around the world in less than a day, that he was ready and even eager to beat the pavement spreading cash for even a hint of a whisper that might mean oliver was still alive.

it’s more emotion than oliver has time or bandwidth to deal with.

the cash gets them on a tiny plane at a postage stamp of a non-commercial airfield, and by dawn they’re in the air, on their way to south korea with nothing but the clothes on their backs and the quickly-diminishing cash in tommy’s back pocket.

they’re going to have to go underground, oliver explains grimly through the headset. their pilot speaks less than a full sentence of english, so they can speak freely. this is only the start of their run, he needs tommy to know. there’s a government agency after them now, and oliver may have picked up some things since he and tommy saw each other last, but hiding from spook squads wasn’t exactly in a training manual.

tommy seems alarmingly buoyant and agile in the current situation. he’s taking oliver’s directions and piecemeal information in stride, in sync with oliver’s urgency in putting hong kong as far behind them as fast as possible. he’s not melting down or screaming at oliver or demanding answers.

not yet, anyways.

oliver thinks maybe tommy’s in shock.

he thinks maybe he is too, if he’s being honest with himself, but he’d prefer not to be until he has to be.

the first crack in the wall comes like daybreak on the horizon, sharp and searing and bright.

“by the way,” tommy says after a lapse, his voice brassy and a little echoey over the headset but still incredibly, beautifully familiar. “you’ve clearly been through some shit and i’m guessing wherever in hell you’ve been the amenities were severely lacking, like shampoo, and mirrors, hot towels, whatever. so know i’m saying this with utmost love, because i’m not sure you know and you need to hear it.”

oliver twists in his seat to look at tommy in trepidation.

tommy’s expression is that of someone about to deal a blow that will probably hurt but is necessary, like resetting a broken bone. oliver braces himself.

“i love you man, but your hair is fucking ugly.”

oliver stares at him blankly, and tommy just serves him that abiding, pitying look.

it comes out like a hiccup. a popped soap bubble of a sound, utterly lost in the whine and roar of the plane engine. It’s followed by another, and another, until they pile up and oliver is bending over and clutching at his stomach, face red and wheezing with laughter.

tommy’s hand is beating affectionately against oliver’s back and tommy’s laughter is ringing warm and bright in his ears, and it sparks clean and alive and desperately fragile in oliver’s chest for the first time in possibly years: hope.

the hope that maybe, just maybe, somehow things can be okay.

–

aus i’ll never write

[psycho-slytherin]

Better than Perfect

You meet a cute rapper at the BBMAs.

Request: I would like to request a Yoongi x Reader Oneshot in which the reader is a young Singer-Songwriter and they meet at the BBMAs (it’s the readers first time there) :)

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Genre: Flooooffy fluff

|mlist|

“You’re kidding.”

Sana shakes her head, biting her lip to hold back a grin. “Cross my heart. You’re nominated for Top New Artist!”

“Oh my god!” you shriek, jumping up and down. “I didn’t think– I can’t believe–”

“Hey, you earned this.” Sana’s eyes go from gleeful to focused in a second. “Now, we need to take advantage of this while we can. You’re not performing, which is fine– it is only your first time there. As for your outfit … I can cash in a lot of favors to get you something from Gucci’s new line, and then we have to practice interview questions… I think we can find you a late night spot–“

“Sounds great,” you interrupt, clapping your hands. If you let Sana go into Full Agent Mode, she won’t come back for a while. “I’m gonna head to the studio, text me when I can, y’know, do anything.”

Sana nods, gripping your arm. “Alright. Y/n, I can’t tell you how happy I am for you.”

You blink hard to hold back tears. “Th-thanks.”

“Get going, superstar.”

Twenty minutes later finds you in the extra room that you converted into a music studio when you first moved to the city. Biting your lip, you scribble lyrics into your battered notebook. Sure, you can dance– sort of– and singing is a strength of yours, but for you it’s always been about the lyrics. Nothing matters more to you than the message you send, and finding the perfect rhythm and syllable count to convey that message is always your goal. You’re just working on a new song, tapping out a beat on your thigh, when your phone rings.

“Hello?”

“AAAAAAAH!”

You laugh. “Hi, Sunmi.”

“You got nominated oh my god I’m so proud I’m already crying why didn’t you tell me?!”

You lean back in your chair. “I found out less than an hour ago, girlfriend.”

“That’s literally too long,” Sunmi whines. “I need time to plan your BBMA-winning party.”

“You know for a fact that I won’t win– my first nomination? No way.”

“You’re winning or I’m fighting you,” Sunmi insists. “You’re good, y/n, really good. You just need to go to the BBMAs and be your beautiful badass talented self and they’ll be throwing trophies at you.”

“Sounds terrifying.”

Sunmi scoffs. “Not as terrifying as me if my best friend doesn’t win. Call me when you’re getting ready for the BBMAs so I can help out.”

“Will do,” you laugh.

“Oh, and do you know Korean?”

To anyone else, it’s a weird question, but you’ve always been a polyglot– you pick up languages with ease. You’re fluent in English, Japanese, Spanish, Italian, Mandarin, and Russian.

“Not too well, but I’ll practice. Why do you ask?”

You hear Sunmi giggle. “Definitely practice, and no reason.”

You sigh in bemusement before hanging up and going back to your lyrics. You’re working on a power ballad, and you’re struggling with the balance between empowerment and unkindness. As much as you’d like to be strong and opinionated in your songs, you can’t afford controversey right now. “Having something doesn’t mean anything… I’m mine alone, don’t need a ring.” You stare at the words before scrunching up your nose and crossing them out. The lyrics need to be perfect.

Time passes, and soon enough the awards show is in less than a week. You’ve spent the last month practicing everything– interview questions, polite clapping, walking in heels, and (just in case) an acceptance speech. You’ve also worked on memorizing the names and faces of all the other nominees. It’s a lot, but at least you can prepare.

“Who would you love to collaborate with?” Sunmi reads from an index card.

“Probably Ariana Grande,” you reply with a smile. “She seems amazing.” Breaking character, you shake your head. “Was that too vague?”

“I think you’re good,” Sunmi replies, tossing the index card aside and reaching for the next one. “Sana told you to be vague, after all.” She squints at the latest question. “How does it feel to be nominated for Top New Artist alongside blah, blah blah?”

You giggle at your friend’s impatience. “It’s a huge honor. It still doesn’t feel real…” you falter, reaching for the perfect words. “Uh, I can’t believe it–”

Sunmi shakes her head. “Nope. You can believe it, remember? You can’t act like you’re not good enough.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “But I’m not. I’m not perfect enough–”

Your friend rolls her eyes. “When are you gonna stop thinking that? You’ve worked ridiculously hard. You’re the most talented person I know. Get over yourself, because you deserve this.”

You inhale shakily at her words. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

“Good. Now I’ve got to get going, and don’t you have a meeting with Sana? Good luck,” Sunmi says, blowing you a kiss. “Dedicate your Grammy award to me in a few years.”

You smile at your friend. “Of course.”

As soon as she leaves, you get a text from Sana: My office. Now.

Faster than you think is humanly possible, you find yourself in Sana’s office.

“What’s… wrong…?” you pant, leaning on the wall. Sana looks up from her desk.

“Hm? Oh, nothing,” she says. “I just wanted you here quickly so I could show you these.”

With a flourish she holds up a set of clothes hangers.

“This is what you’re wearing to the airport,” she murmurs distractedly, handing you a stylish outfit. “These two are for your late night interviews, I forget which… Oh, this is for after the awards show, I got you an invite to Justin Beiber’s afterparty… aha!” she pulls out a dress, and your jaw drops.

You’re looking at the most gorgeous black dress you’ve ever seen, a dress shimmering as the light hits it.

“Isn’t it too much?” you whisper in awe. You reach out, but you’re scared to touch it. The cloth looks more expensive than you’ll ever be.

“Nah, you’re gonna wow them. Trust me on this,” Sana winks. “Wigs’ll be flying as soon as you show up.”

You take the dress, stroking the fabric in awe. “I hope you’re right.”

“Aaaand I’m joined by y/n l/n, who’s been making a splash in the charts! Y/n, how does it feel to be nominated for Top New Artist alongside such amazing new stars?”

“It still doesn’t feel real, honestly,” you laugh, alternating eye contact with the red carpet interviewer and the camera. Around you… so this is the hustle and bustle before an awards show. “I’m honored.”

“And who are you wearing tonight?”

You smile graciously. “Gucci.” Giving you just a hint of cleavage and hugging your curves in all the right places, you’ve never felt more powerful.

“Well, you look great, and best of luck to you tonight!”

You’re about to thank the interviewer when a sudden chorus of screams makes you jump. What the hell? You strain your ears, making out a consistent cheer.

“BTS! BTS! BTS! BTS!”

Holy shit, they’re here. You’ve done your fair share of googling on the nominees– BTS is easily the biggest boy band in the world, known for their dedicated fanbase. You’ve listened to some of their songs, and they’re talented to say the least– but you don’t have time to get distracted, as you’re soon approached by another interviewer.

Your feet are aching by the time the cameras follow the guests inside, and you’re led to your seat. Why a barely known singer like you has been seated in the very front row, you don’t understand, but you’re not complaining– Sana will be squealing at the additional screentime.

The front row is barely filled in by the time you sit down. There are seven empty seats to your right, and you’re left twiddling your thumbs, your body tense with nervous energy.

A few minutes later, you hear the roar of another thousand teenage girls, and you twist around. Looks like BTS has entered the building, and when one of the members raises their hand to wave the volume of the screams increases tenfold.

You stare in awe. That’s what it means to be famous. These guys… these guys have made it. They’re perfect. They’re talented. They’re… sitting next to you?

You hold your breath as the members settle in their seats. Beside you, if those Wikepedia articles you read are correct, is Suga. He’s… wow, he really is even more attractive in person.

You keep your eyes trained on the stage as the MC of the night begins to talk, but you can’t help but focus your attention on your peripheral vision. You’re entranced by the ethereal beauty of the men beside you.

“And we’ll be right back!” you hear the MC say, snapping you out of your fog. The first commercial break already?

You turn, and you’ve never been more grateful to your best friend– you’ve been focusing on Korean ever since Sunmi mentioned it, so that now…

“Hello,” you say to Suga.

He notices, his eyes widening in surprise. “You speak Korean?”

You hold your thumb and index an inch apart. “A little bit. I’m learning.”

“Hyung, we’re getting some drinks,” one of the members– RM, perhaps?– says. “You coming?”

“In a second,” Suga replies, his eyes trained on you. Something in his gaze sends shivers down your spine.

“You should go with them,” you breathe as the members file away. “The cameras will want to see you all together.”

“The cameras see us together enough,” Suga says, leaning back and folding his arms. “How do you know Korean?”

You shrug. “I’m good with languages. My friend told me to improve my Korean–” you laugh. “Now I know why.”

Suga smiles. It’s a cute smile: his lips pull up above his gums and his catlike eyes sparkle with delight. Inside your chest your heart flutters, but you calm yourself– you’re not here to pick up guys, and idols like him basically can’t date anyways–

“Are you nominated or here as a guest?” he asks.

“Oh, uh, I’m nominated for Top New Artist,” you say, beginning the sentence in Korean and finishing in English. “I’m small fry.”

Suga raises his brows. “Seems like a big deal.”

“Not as big as you,” you reply. “Top Social Artist, right? That’s impressive.”

“Yeah.” Suga tries for a smile, but his eyes dull a bit.

“Is… is something wrong?”

“Ah, no.” Suga rubs his temples. “It’s just… don’t get me wrong, a BBMA is a huge honor for a foreign group like us, but I feel like people care more about our fanbase than our music.”

He shakes his head, covering his face with his hands. “Aah, that sounded bad, sorry.”

“Not at all,” you reassure him. “Trust me, I’m a songwriter, and I get more questions about my outfits than my lyrics. It can be frustrating, huh?”

“You write your own songs?”

You open your mouth to reply when the lights start flickering to signal the commercial break’s end. The other members of BTS return to their seats as the MC takes the stage once more to introduce the next performer.

“Are you performing?” Suga whispers while the audience applauds.

“God, I wish. I’m not nearly famous enough,” you whisper back. “You are, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” Suga winks at you, and you blush happily. “Look forward to it.”

You feel your phone buzz and you check it discreetly.

Sana: Quit flirting, there are cameras on you.

Your head snaps up and you notice the familiar red blinking lights of dozens of cameras around the grand room, some of them apparently trained on you. Or rather, you acknowledge, trained on the members of BTS.

You focus on the stage once more, glueing a smile to your face as two more trophies are awarded.

“After the break, Ariana Grande is back with her latest single!” The MC says, smiling brightly into the camera. “Coming up, Top Social Artist and Top New Artist. We’ll be right back!”

As soon as the lights brighten to signify they’re no longer broadcasting, you lean over to Suga.

“Gee, I wonder who’s gonna win Top Social Artist,” you tease.

Suga shakes his head bemuseadly. “No clue.”

“Turn around and make a heart with your hands,” you suggest. “Every single scream is a vote for you winning. And I’ve heard some of your stuff, you guys deserve it. Your lyricist should get a raise.”

Yoongi laughs. “I’ll tell the others, but I think we’re pretty well off already.”

“Huh?”

“Me, Namjoon, and Hobi-ssi, sometimes the others– we write and produce a lot of our music.”

“Really?” you ask in wonder. “I thought… I mean, you’re such big stars…”

Suga shrugs. “We love the music as much as the performance. Could you ever quit songwriting?”

“Never,” you reply instantly, and you’re about to say something else when the lights dim again. Suga turns back to the stage and for a second you can’t help but be struck by his side profile. He truly is inhumanly beautiful. And funny, and kind, and passionate… he is perfection, you decide.

Another buzz from your phone.

Sana: If u keep staring at him ur gonna be a meme before midnight smh

Blinking guiltily, you tune in just in time to hear the MC finish up the nominations for Top Social Artist.

“…and BTS!”

The accompanying screams drown out any hope you have of wishing Suga luck.

“And the Billboard Music Award goes to…”

You cross your fingers behind your back. Sure, you only met Suga this evening, but there’s something about him that makes you feel as though he’s an old friend. You want him to win.

“BTS!”

You clap politely as a clip of the group’s latest single begins playing. Suga turns and says something to you before standing, but it’s lost amid the rabid screams of the fangirls. The septet files onstage to accept the award and RM makes a speech, all graciousness and gratitude. When the music swells once more the group disappears backstage to take pictures, and a sudden realization turns your blood to ice: your category is next.

The MC makes a short introduction full of scripted puns and half-clever witticisms before introducing the nominees for Top New Artist. You’re screaming inside as you hear your name:

“…and y/n l/n!”

From the crowd you can hear the yells of some of your fans or those that’ve heard your latest single. The song blew up way past expectation, landing you this nomination.

“And the Billboard Music Award goes to…”

Time slows down. Or does it speed up? Are you even breathing? You don’t think so. Your skin prickles in anticipation and your heartbeat is deafening, but the cameras are trained on you and so all you do is smile hopefully, twining your fingers together. It’s fine. You won’t win, no way. It’s fine.

“Y/n l/n!”

Huh? You’re frozen for a second, surely you misheard, for a second you thought they’d announced your name, and around you people are clapping and the guy to your left is nudging you forward and when you stand up the cheers get louder and wait a second they’re cheering for you.

You walk– actually, you practically float– to the stage. Do you really deserve it?

You accept the trophy from the MC and step up to the mic.

“Wow.” You look at the audience and swallow. You have precious few minutes to speak, and you’ll use them.

“Every moment of my life is spent working towards becoming perfect,” you say. “Whenever I get close, ‘perfect’ seems to get farther away. And I’ve realized that being an artist means not being perfect, but being better. Thank you to my parents, my amazing agent Sana, of course Sunmi. Y’all make me better.” You smile at the camera. “But my biggest thanks have to go to my fans. You inspire me every day to become better, and you make me believe that I can be better. Every note, every lyric– that’s all you guys. Thank you!”

You walk backstage to the sound of applause, swelling with pride.

“Y/n! Over here!” A photographer waves you over, motioning to a backdrop. “Could you stand right here? Hold up the trophy– like that, perfect! Okay, we’re good. You can get back to your chair now. Door’s that way.”

Well, that was easy. You head in the direction the photographer indicated, turning a sharp corner and suddenly bumping into someone.

“Oh! My bad, I– oh.” You’ve accidentally run into another member of BTS– Jimin, you think?

You switch to Korean. “Sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going.”

The singer’s expression changes to delight at your words. “Yoongi hyung, is this the girl you mentioned?”

Suga suddenly appears from behind Jimin, and you let out a surprised squeak.

Suga chuckles. “Yeah, she was sitting next to me. Had the nerve to say she wasn’t fluent.” He eyes you teasingly.

You decide to ignore his snark. “What are you guys doing back here?”

“Jimin-ssi had to use the restroom, and I wanted to greet the top new artist,” Suga says with a smirk. “Whoever it may be.”

“Bullshit, you heard me win,” you reply.

He shrugs, and you notice Jimin has already hastened back to his seat. “Maybe I wanted to chat,” Suga continues. “Without the cameras, because I’ve already gotten scolded for talking to you so much.”

You laugh. “Hey, me too.”

“We never really introduced ourselves,” Suga says. He offers you his hand and you shake. “I’m Min Yoongi– Yoongi’s my first name– I’m a rapper, lyricist, and overall pretty average person.”

“Y/n l/n,” you reply. “Singer, lyricist, and overall incredibly awkward nerd.”

Yoongi laughs, a surprised and mirthful sound that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Are you going to an afterparty?” you blurt out.

Yoongi thinks. “Joonie mentioned… yeah, I think so, if our managers are okay with it.” He clucks his tongue. “Parties here are hard, with only one translator. It doesn’t give us a lot of freedom to move around.”

“That’s a shame,” you say, sudden confidence overtaking you. He’s been nothing but flirtatious all night, why shouldn’t you reciprocate? “If we were going to the same party, I could be your personal translator for the entire night.”

Yoongi looks at you, a mischivious glint in his eye. “Whose afterparty are you going to?”

“Justin Beiber’s.”

“Huh. Well, c’mon, we have to get back to our seats,” Yoongi says, gesturing to the backstage exit.

Just as you open the door, you hear the MC’s voice: “We’ll be right back!”

“A commercial break already?” you hiss at Yoongi, and he shrugs.

“To them, it’s all money, isn’t it?”

“Hyung!” RM suddenly rushes up to Yoongi. “We need to get changed, we’re on after the next two awards!”

Good luck, you mouth at Yoongi as RM leads him away.

Thanks, he mouths back, winking.

You settle in your seat as the commercial break ends and the next two awards are given away. From time to time you smile randomly– how could you not? Yoongi is by far the most attractive man you’ve ever met and he’s more than attractive; he’s just so cute…

You’re snapped out of your stupor by the announcement of the next performance: “And here’s the record-smashing phenomenon with their latest single. Give it up for BTS!”

After the performance, you’re still in a daze. They were just so good. You couldn’t help but be captivated by Yoongi’s raps. Whatever he may think, you’re not fluent, and so you only got about seventy percent of his verse but still it was so good…

You’re still thinking about it when you’re led to your trailer to change into your afterparty outfit, a tight-fitting but not uncomfortable cocktail dress. You’re still thinking about it when you arrive at the party location with no clue as to how you got there. You’re standing in Justin Beiber’s living room, positively dumbstruck, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You whirl around to see–

“Yoongi!” you want more than anything to give him a quick hug, but you refrain. The other members surround him.

“Hi, I’m y/n,” you introduce yourself nervously. That much beauty at once is intimidating.

Yoongi says something quickly to the other members in a dialect you don’t understand, and the six of them surreptitiously melt into the crowd.

“What was that?”

Yoongi smirks. “I was promised a personal translator. I don’t want to share you tonight.”

Somehow his words sound far from innocent. “Whatever you’re thinking, I’m not that kind of girl,” you warn him.

Yoongi snorts. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to go for a walk in the backyard. Don’t worry, I’ll keep my hands to myself.” As if to prove his point, he jams his hands into his pockets.

You giggle, following him onto the perfectly manicured lawn. You and Yoongi stay outside for hours or maybe days, and at some point you look down and notice his fingers intertwined with your own.

“Didn’t you say you’d keep your hands to yourself?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Do you want me to?”

The word is out of your mouth before you have time to regret it: “No.”

Yoongi grins widely. “You’re too smart for a hurried party hookup. I have an idea, if you’re interested… it might mean we can see each other after I fly home?”

“Tell me.”  

“Want to collaborate? I heard that clip of you singing earlier, god, I could write a thousand songs for that voice of yours.”

“Collaborate… with you? On a song?”

“Not if you don’t want to,” Yoongi says hurriedly.

The human embodiment of perfection– better than perfection– is asking to collaborate. “Are you kidding? It’s the opportunity of a lifetime, in more ways than one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You lean towards Yoongi until your noses are mere centimeters apart. The space between your bodies feels electric. “Whatever you want it to.”

A/N thanks for the request, @minanna01! I hope I did your vision justice. As always, my inbox is open and feedback is welcome and appreciated :)

[videofeed]

Black Sails: 10 Facts Everyone Should Know About Anne Bonny https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lSDn2wKkQg From start to the top, learn about the 'actual' historical past of Black Sails' Anne Bonny - the most effective known feminine pirate in the historical past. [fwduvp preset_id="modern-skin-dark_videofeed_playlist" playlist_id="Black Sails"] Black Sailsis a fun,horny, action-packed tackle pirate lore-based mostly on (and appearing as a prequel to)Robert Louis Stevenson's Treasure Island. As nicely as having some enjoyable speculating what younger variations of the enduring fictionalcharacters maybe wish to reside with, the present does the same with many real-world pirates from the period the story was set in, as did the novel. One such character was Anne Bonny, portrayed within the present by Clara Paget, one among historical past's most famed pirates, and possibly essentially the most famous female pirate out of the Western Hemisphere. While the show modeled the character after the real lady, many features of her again story had been tweaked or unnoticed. The show retains her again story fuzzy, however, her early life is not a whole thriller. Much of what we know comes from Charles Johnson's A General History of the Pyrates, which is claimed to be largely speculative. Most accounts appear to agree she was born in March between 1697 and 1702 in Old Head of Kinsale, County Cork, Ireland. In Anne Bonny: The Infamous Female Pirate by Philip T. Tucker, it's suggested she was born in Kinsale in "a fine house on Compass Hill" in 1698. According to Johnson, Anne was born of an affair between married lawyer William McCormac and servant lady Mary Brennan, who was also employed by William. Shortly after Anne was born, William took her in and moved to London, to get away from his spouse's household. He started dressing Anne as a boy, calling her 'Andy' and elevating her as a lawyer's clerk. William's spouse came upon about the entire affair and lower him off, whereupon William moved to Carolina with Anne and her mom and dropped the 'Mc' from his identity. As a youngster, Anne was identified for her fiery pink hair and was reportedly thought-about "a good catch", however, she was additionally fairly troubled, considerably inevitably given the weird model of misogyny she needed to deal with. Johnson describes her "fierce and courageous temper", which regularly made her tough to speak to or deal with. This mood would typically flip violent as nicely, andone rumor dismissed by Johnson claimed shesupposedly stabbed a servant lady with a knife on the mere age of 13. While he actually wasn't a saint by all accounts, no proof factors to Anne's first husband being a rapist and pimping her out as suggested in the present. James Bonny was a poor sailor turned small-time pirate, and after Anne married him, her father disowned them, disapproving of the man's character. It is rumored Anne set fire to her father's plantation in retaliation, however, there isn't any proof of this having taken place and it's said to be an embellishment created by Johnson. After being disowned, Anne and James moved to Nassau on New Providence Island, known as a sanctuary for disgraced English pirates. Many of the pirates that settled onNew Providence obtained a King's Pardon, whereas many others merely used the place as a hideout from the legislation. According to Colin Woodard'sThe Republic of Pirates, when Governor Woodes Rogers - who additionally appeared within the present - arrived on the island to take some names, James grew to become an informant to him, reporting on all of the pirate exercises within the space. Anne was not a fan of this profession transfer. Anne later spent a while within the Bahamas, the place Johnson suggests she began mingling with other pirates in numerous taverns, presumably searching for the next large rating. This is presumably where she met John Rackham, also called Calico Jack - portrayed by Toby Schmitz within the present. The two grew to become lovers and decided to marry. Rackham supplied James cash to divorce Anne, however, James refused, apparently threatening to beat Anne, hinting on the sort of abuse the present suggests. Anne then joined Rackham's crew and they fled the island collectively. Her first stint with Rackham is described in Druett Jones' Sea Captains, Heroines, and Hellions of the Sea.It is claimedAnne had to disguise her gender at first as a member of a pirate crew, which she did by pretending to be male. During this time she met Mary Read, one other feminine pirate posing as a person, who also dressed as a boy rising as much as acquire inheritance and later to affix the navy. It is suggested inAnne and the Indiesthat the male crew members knew full nicely, however, said nothing as a result of legal guidelines of the time. According to Johnson, Anne confided in Mary, as a consequence of being interested in her, which led to the well-known relationship between the 2 and Rackham. The disguise grew to become much less efficient as soon as Anne grew to become pregnant, whereupon Rackham parked in Cuba,and she or he gave start to a son. She then divorced James and married Rackham at sea. After the wedding, Anne Bonny and Mary Read grew to become well-known as feminine pirates of the time, stealing ships and main crews and combating to the loss of life alongside the lads. Unfortunately, like many well-known pirates, their success was shortlived, and in 1720 they had been attacked and boarded by a crew commissioned by the Jamaican Governor, as described in LuAnn Zettle'sAnne Bonny: The Last Pirate. The pirates had been reportedly too drunk to place up a lot of a struggle, and the three well-known pirates had been subdued. Zettle writes of Anne being taken again to Jamacia alongside together with her lovers, the place the Governor had them convicted of piracy and sentenced to execution by hanging, making Anne and Mary the first ladies to be convicted of piracy in Europe, although Rackman was the only one of many three to truly be executed. According to Johnson, Anne's final phrases to Rackham had been "Had you fought like a man, you need not have been hang'd like a dog", giving us some insight into the personality of the enigmatic determine. Pregnancy might be problematic when disguising your self as a person (until you've gotten the foresight to play an obese man), however, it is useful when going through execution. Both Anne Bonny and Mary Read "pleaded their bellies" upon sentencing and after they had been discovered to be pregnant each execution had stayed. Mary died in jail after and probably as a consequence of giving start. Anne gave astart in jail, however, nothing is written of what in the end grew to become of her, resulting in a number of romantic hypotheses. InA General History of the Robberies and Murders of the Most Notorious PyratesJohnson writes "She was continued in Prison, to the Time of her lying in, and afterward reprieved from Time to Time, but what has become of her since; we cannot tell; only this we know, that she was not executed." Black Sailstackle the character is an attention-grabbing and really watchable one, and contemplating the fictional materials and characters on the forefront you may forgive them for taking actual historic figures in a fictionalroute.

[a-weird-rusted-android]

I have a bunch of those11 questions meme behind so I guess I’ll just mass post the answers here.Sorry I’m not actually putting in new questions but it took me 1 hour and a half just doing these and I kinda have to study

Tagged by @therandommeerkat

1) If someone wrote music about you, what genre do you think it would be in? Be as specific or as vague as you want. Not necessarily a style you favour, but one that would suit you (though these will probably align, but maybe not) Idk maybe I'd be some kind of folk song? I'm not even a big fan of folk but I feel like it would suit me somewhat

2) A place that, ideally, you'd be most at peace. Don't be afraid to be mundane A nice cozy room with a fire and me buried under a ton of blankets. The TV is on as almost background noise and I have a cat on my lap

3) Describe an artwork you'd like at your house. Maybe include a picture. And/or a story. Why that artwork? It doesn't have to be deep I'd like to have one of those Escher drawings that make your brain stop working like it's a room that expands forever but it also inside itself. I think they look really cool

4) If you could create your own social media site, what would it be about? Or your own webthing, more widely speaking Dunno. Maybe some sort of forum for people with common interests but I'm not sure what kind of mechanics I'd put in

5) A pet peeve, something that just gets on your nerves. The more pointless, the better I have this teacher who doesn't have any sort of accent at all, except for one word. The word “libro” (book). She says it like “libbro”. And doubling the b's is like a common accent in some areas of the South but she never does it on any other word than that. If she had an actual accent it wouldn't bother me but this is terrible. It's like if someone with a perfect English accent used y'all'd've

6) If you could spend a day somewhere in the past an no one would question your presence, where and when would you go, and what would you do? I could give a thought-out, serious answer to this but I'll just say I'd like to see a dinosaur

7) Describe a sensory feeling or memory of meaning to you I don't remember the name but there are these sort of cherries that are very bright red and they aren't sweet but kind of sour and my grandma used to have a tree of those and in spring me and sometimes a friend would try to take as many as possible of those while being too short to reach most of the branches and unable to climb up on the actual tree. Good times

8) Do you keep a diary? No. Never really seen the point

9) Do you have a collection of anything? If you had unlimited funds, would you start one? The only collection I have are the Pokemon cards I used to buy in elementary school and if I had unlimited funds I think that's what I'm most likely to start collecting again

10) If you could specializa in literally anything, like, on a college level, what would it be? ...but what about a degree in Pokemon

11) And last, and most morbid, how would you like to be remembered when you're gone? On a physical and an intellectual level There is a monumental tomb in an old cemetery. It is made of strange, black stone. Some being that could be an angel if angels were raffigured as they are in the Bible is on top of it, looking down on humanity with empty, eerie eyes, too many eyes. No one knows who let that thing be built. There is no picture of me, only my initials carved in a corner. No one is sure what my real name was. No one is sure who I was, or how I died. There are multiple legends going around, including that I was the spawn of an eldricht being that came from another reality and that the statue is in truth a representation of my real form, and that it comes to life every second Thursday of the month, to find those who blemish the existance of pizza with pineapple and turn all of their socks into sentient creatures

Tagged by @morganalefan

1) Post-apocalyptic universe, fantasy world, hyper technological future or anywhere and anytime you want in the past: which do you choose? Hyper technological future where we also developed magic and found aliens so it's some sort of futuristic fantasy instead

2) If you knew a ghost was haunting your home, what would you do? I would be terrified but also not enough to be bothered to do something about it

3) Whitches: do you think they are valid, do you not share their beliefs but still respect them, or are they just some delusional airheads? (answer sincerely. Don't worry, I'm bound not to harm anyone with my craft ;3 ) Oh well I don't really believe a lot in this kind of things but I see no reason to not respect other's beliefs

4) Let's talk about food: does it make you happy? Is it just a mean to survive? Do you have an unhealthy relationship with it? Food is fucking important to me ok

5) What's your plan for the zombie apocalypse? Do you even HAVE a plan?? ...I'll figure it out when the zombie apocalypse comes. I'm shit at sticking to plans anyway

6) Think any given race an any given class of any given rpg you have ever heard of. Which do you choose? You must stick with it forever! Well Pokemon is an rpg too so yeah I'm going to be a Pokemon trainer. You have awesome pets and travel around and get paid a fuckton of money for everything you do

7) You are given an unlimited amount of money and no restrictions to create your own tv series! What is it about? Do you both write and direct it? Do you call famous actors you like to starr in it or do you cast some promising aspiring actors the world had never heard of? I was hearing a while ago this idea of making a tv series of the Silmarillion and yo. I would fund the fuck out of this. First season is all about the Valar and Melkor arguing and repeatedly fucking shit up and then we have like a lot of other seasons for the real thing. Because let's face it if we gonna do this we have to make things a lot less fast paced than that book because it would be a mess. Well I'm fine both with new and famous actors. I mean for Galadriel I'd still probably want Cate Blanchett because I can only see her that way now but maybe also another actor for when she's younger

8) What's comforting to you? Knowing this Friday and Sunday school's gonna be closed. Very comforting

9) Do you fear climatic change and natural disasters? Yes

10) I want you to feel good about yourself: tell me something you like about yourself. It could be a personality trait, a physical feature, a specific talent you have, something you did you are proud of... Aw thank you. Well the other day I was at my aunt's and she has this cat who is kinda shy around people and I managed to get close to it and pet it and I felt really accomplished

11) And now, tell me something about one of your passions! Anything! (I can't think of any other questions...) (kiddin', I care about you) I love writing. I really love it. It's beautiful how stories just come to life under your fingertips. I adore writing. I don't have about 50 word documents with maybe one sentence written absolutely not

Tagged by @thxstral

1) What TV/book/movie character do you think you're most similar to? What character to do you wish you were more like? Most similar to... I don't know. I'd like to be someone more like Clint Barton. Not the strongest person around and overall pretty chill but willing to lend my help when there's need for me

2) What was the first career you wanted as a kid? I'm not really sure... Maybe superhero or something

3) Would you rather have magic in an ordinary world, or be ordinary in a magical world? Ordinary in a magical world would also kinda imply I would still have some sort of magic so I'd go with the second one. On the other side, I could actually be a superhero if I went with the first one. Mmm

4) If you could live in the world of any music video for a day, what would it be and why? Do anime openings video count as music video for the song because I might just throw myself in a random YuGiOh opening

5) Who was your childhood enemy? (or frenemy) I wasn't cool enough to have an enemy tbh

6) If you could gain any skill with no effort on your part, what skill would you want and why? The skill of remembering things perfectly after having read them once. Why you ask? I'm a student that's why

7) Can you speak any languages besides your native language? Well my native language is Italian so. I mean. Yeah

8) What was the last book you read cover to cover? Ugh I haven't had time to read a lot of things recently. I can tell you what the last book I started was (Licia Troisi's new book) but I'm not sure I remember the last book I actually finished reading. I think I reread the first Harry Potter a while ago but

9) Would you rather be roommates with a ghost or an alien? Depends on the ghost, depends on the alien. Like if it's vendicative murderous ghost vs Spock I'd say Spock. If it's the ghost of Oscar Wilde vs Alien then I might prefer the ghost of Oscar Wilde a little

10) What do you think your superpower would be vs. what would you want them to be? I mean probably I'd have the power to turn invisible because of course I'd have something that can't actually be useful unless I do something like going around butt naked in the middle of winter. What I'd want is probably just some good old super strength. It seems damn useful both as a potential superhero and in my day to day life

11) Someone offers you a briefcase full of cash in exchange for you faking your death and going completely off the grid. Would you take it? GIVE ME THE MONEY