#i had initially planned to pull for him before the teaser came out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

byunbaekby · 3 years

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title — bloom again (teaser #1) pairing — racer!jaemin x female reader genres — angst, fluff, racer au, slight college au, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, love triangle, hurt and comfort overall warnings (to be updated) — language, cheating, mentions of abuse, depictions of a toxic/abusive relationship (not between jaemin and the reader), optional smut, illegal street racing, mentions of drugs teaser warnings — none teaser word count — 1.7k words summary — the world has never been kind to na jaemin. left alone with a deadbeat mother, he's learned how to survive on his own. now twenty and a college student whose life and vitality (not to mention his rent) relies solely on his success in his career as an illegal street racer, he runs alone. everything he has, he’s fought for with his own hands and grit. he’s never asked for anything, which is what makes the world so cruel: when he finally meets someone who he desires for more than a night, you already belong to someone else. additional — for the racer collab, created by the wonderful @ickjun and managed by the one and only @lucas-wongs !!

projected release — may/june 2021 projected word count — 20k

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CASIA APARTMENTS [8:12AM]

It’s an early Saturday morning. It’s laundry day, and due to Jaemin’s affinity for avoiding unnecessary social interaction as much as possible, he wanted to be first in the laundry room.

As he pushes open the door to the laundry room, basket of clothes in hand, Jaemin catches sight of a lone figure, wrapped within the confines of a fluffy white blanket. His first thought is that this person, whoever they are, resembles a marshmallow. Choosing not to comment, he walks over to an available washer and begins piling his clothes inside.

“Oh?” He hears, uttered in a muffled yelp. “Blue.”

Though he initially places his focus on his clothes, his attention is piqued by the sudden calling of a nickname. He finds himself face to face with you once again, your visage hidden between two fluffy white sheets. Your lips are lifted into an inevitable smile, stripping yourself of the blanket to stuff it in a washer.

“I might have to think you’re following me around now,” you joke.

Seeing who you are now behind the blanket, a comfortable smile makes its way across his lips, smooth as butter as his gaze falls upon your familiar face. “It might seem that way.” It seems his usual antisocial disposition has faded away in the presence of this marshmallow-like girl. “I actually have reason to think it’s you following me.”

“Is that it? Well, enlighten me, Blue, because I can assure you it’s the other way around,” you say dramatically, reverting back to your goofy demeanor. The two of you press the buttons upon the machines, beginning your washers at a similar start before you make your way to a vacant bench on the sidelines.

“Hm.” A playful look of deliberation makes home across the male’s visage, and he tilts his head slightly for good measure, as though he were in thought. “Well for one, I didn’t trip on anything last time, but you happened to be there when I did. Maybe…” He trails. “You tripped me just so you could hang out with me.”

You gasp, shaking your head profusely before placing an entirely harmless smack on his shoulder. “I believe you’re framing me. For you tripping, I think you’re underestimating just how clumsy you are.”

He rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say, marshmallow.”

“Marshmallow? Is that your nickname for me now?”

It wasn’t that he had been trying to find a fitting nickname for you recently, but it had crossed his mind. “Yeah, you’re a marshmallow. It just came to me. Now we both have nicknames for each other.”

“That’s cute, I like it.” You nod. You could get used to him calling you that, much like he could with your choice of nickname. “Marshmallow and Blue, us against the world. Laundry buddies.”

“We sound like a lame superhero team,” he comments.

Your hands raise out of defense, teeth now sinking in the plushness of your lower lip in a feeble attempt to hide your ever-growing grin. “No one was supposed to see me in my marshmallow form. Superheroes gotta hide their identity, y’know? I’d like to say you aren’t very slick with yours,” you say, gesturing up to his full head of blue tresses. Your palms slightly rub at your face, and as a yawn slips through your tiers, you fail to confine it.

“Tired?” asks Jaemin.

“Mm, a bit,” you tell him. “I was up late last night studying.” Suddenly he stands, and your gaze follows him. He makes his way over to his basket, and with curiosity brewing you ask, “Any plans for tonight?”

“No, not beside studying and maybe Netflix,” he responds as he pulls out a blanket from the bottom of his basket (which he had planned to wash in a second load). He pulls to him one of the laundry carts and meticulously lays his blanket over it, creating a cushioned nest.

You didn’t need to know that he had a race sometime tonight, and would likely nap in a couple hours after completing his laundry to prepare for the long night he had ahead of him. His typical Friday night race had been cancelled due to tip-offs from the police, but he had caught word of an unfamiliar race a little bit out of town. Instead, he gestures to the makeshift bed he’s made, a playful smile tugging at his lips. It’s an attempt to help the fatigue that drapes over your eyes.

“Get in.”

First confusion adorns your features before realization sinks in, and you stand with an enthused smile. Climbing in with a laugh, you ease in, frame fitting inside.

“Here, push me. Like a speed racer!” One step further, you place your hands onto each side of the laundry cart, exuding sheer eagerness and no longer that exhaustion that had shown moments before.

“I thought you were tired and wanted to sleep,” he comments at your willingness to be pushed around, as though he were some kind of amusement park ride.

“I thought I was too, but this is better.”

“I’ll tire you out so you can sleep well later,” he says, preparing to push you around in circles through the laundry room. Nonetheless, he starts to move you, pushing you alone. First, he starts out slow, trying his best to maneuver your large conjoined figure about the small room.

Deliberate chuckles leave your lips, subconsciously leaning against his chest without meaning to. As he relishes in the sweet euphoria of your giggles, all he wants to do is keep hearing this sound.

So to pleasure his own desires, he runs a bit faster, picking up the speed whilst also trying to avoid crashing into the large machines. He was a racer, after all. Though this was surely a much smaller scale race than he was accustomed to. Smoothly, he drifts into a circle, spinning the two of you whilst an unfamiliar laugh pours from his lips. This earns him a mellifluous guffaw from you. It’s unlike him; you bring out a new side of him.

You attempt to muffle your chortles into his chest. The blue-haired boy is caught off guard by the sudden action; this shock, instigated by the pressing of your flesh against his, causes him to nearly pummel into the machine before you.

Luckily, Jaemin’s fast instincts from collective years of high speed racing causes him to turn before the collision, narrowly avoiding a disaster. He comes to a slow stop, breath accelerated.

“Sorry,” you laugh, pulling your face out to laugh once more. “I’m giving you a workout.”

Your face is contorted into a bright expression, sparkles lighting up your eyes as you gaze up at him mid-laugh. Jaemin gulps.

Even if he’s never been subject to a committed relationship, Jaemin is no fool to attraction. And that is where he feels wrong: there is someone else in your life, someone who deserves you much more than he.

This is wrong. Not because it feels wrong, but because Jaemin knows it is.

There’s a moment, a prolonged period where the two of you stare at each other. Having been caught in a joyous laugh, your eyes still sparkle as you gaze at him from where you sit in the laundry cart. You’re looking at him so fondly, and without thinking, Jaemin’s hand reaches up to guide a few stray strands of your hair behind the shell of your ear.

You’re blinking, seemingly dumbfounded at his gesture. Your head angles slightly, barely leaning into his touch.

For a moment, likely the shortest sliver of time to ever exist in the universe, time is stilled. All that lives in the moment is the two of you, alone in this laundry room. Fingers lingering so softly against the gentle fabric of your skin, Jaemin can do little but stare. It’s comfortable, fleeting.

Until the two of you realize just what you’re doing. It hits the both of you at a hundred miles per hour.

Red flag.

You straighten suddenly, and Jaemin immediately retracts his hand. As if on cue, the noises from your washing machines come to a stop. For a moment, you don’t speak. “Come on, let’s… put our stuff in the dryer.”

A cough sounds from Jaemin’s throat. “Yeah… let’s.”

Without his help, you prop yourself out of the cushioned cart and flutter over to your machine, unloading your clothes with your back to him. It’s clear what is going on in both your minds: Replaying the scene. Reminiscing the other’s laughter.

No, this is wrong—on a multitude, absolutely endless stream of levels. You have a boyfriend, someone for you back home.

The best thing you both can do is… ignore it. Yeah, that’s the better option.

Jaemin finishes stuffing his load into the dryer first, and because he cannot look at you, he turns away to place his focus upon the laundry cart which was once your object of amusement. Now, he grabs the blanket he had placed inside and folds it meticulously. He cannot suppress these feelings.

But he has to, and the only way he knows how to is to eject himself.

“I’ve actually uh… got a lot of assignments to do.” Looking around the virtually empty laundry room, he looks to you, offering an apologetic smile. “I’ll probably leave this here and come back when the hour is done.”

You don’t respond for a moment.

“Oh,” you say after a prolonged pause, and even Jaemin can hear just how evident the disappointment is in your tone. “Alright. Well… Have a good rest of your day, Blue. Thanks for spending some time with me.”

He resents that. That you’re still so kind to him, despite him running away. But he knows himself, and the only way to ignore whatever these… feelings are, he needs to avoid them. The feeling of guilt that rushes over him upon seeing the deflated change in your demeanor, like a bucket of ice cold water poured upon him, is almost enough to make him stay.

Almost.

“You too, Marshmallow,” he responds before exiting the room with his folded blanket, leaving you with the sickening feeling that he no longer wanted to be in your presence.

#neowritingsnet #nct-writers #dreamwritersnet #jaemin angst #jaemin fluff #jaemin scenarios #jaemin imagines #nct fluff #nct angst #nct dream fluff

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teaspoon-full-of-sugar · 4 years

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edge

pairing: harry styles x reader (au)

warnings: smut, dom/sub, exhibitionism, degradation, spit play, choking, face fucking, spanking, ring kink (if that’s even a thing ..?), orgasm denial, unprotected sex, subspace, aftercare, very fluffy and cheesy ending (like seriously so cheesy and cliche pls don’t bully me i didn’t know how to end it)

word count: 4.7k

synopsis: harry and y/n are a cam couple

author’s note: i hope you enjoy! xx all the love

masterlist

—

It started by accident, really, with a simple, offhand comment one night.

Already two-and-a-half bottles of wine deep, Y/N was close to tears with one glance at their pitiful bank account, and Harry was trying his best to comfort her and assure her that everything would end up fine, but he had absolutely no way to promise her that. Their part-time jobs did very little to cover their monthly expenses, and their next loan payment for school was coming up; needless to say, they were feeling overwhelmed.

And what better to do than drink and complain about your problems when you’re feeling overwhelmed?

“Maybe I should go into porn,” she sighed, and he rubbed his hand under her shirt, trying to soothe her. They knew that they were taking a risk moving across the world for uni, with no backup plan and nothing to fall back on, but in the end, it will, hopefully, be worth it. In the end, they would have a brighter future, despite the mountain of debt, but the middle part, the part where they struggle and contemplate giving up, is so difficult to get past.

“I—I’d do it with you,” he hiccuped, resting his head against her shoulder.

“Maybe we should do our own videos,” she said, “I heard that people can make a lot of money doing that.” Not noticing that he had gone quiet, she continued, laughing and raving. “Could you imagine? Oh, what if we did one of you going down on me? Harry, babe,” she moans lightly, “that would be hot.”

He smiled widely, eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head at the thought; he felt a rush of blood in his groin. They had talked about recording themselves and posting it online before, so the idea wasn’t something they were unfamiliar with, but it normally only happened when they were tipsy, and they never talked about it in any detail like she was. Now, the thought of her recording him between her legs or vice versa, for them to enjoy over and over, made arousal burn in his belly. He could imagine how the camera would shake as she came on his tongue, her hips bucking wildly, hand pulling at his hair. He holds back a moan.

“That would be so hot,” he said, “we should totally do it.” He downs the rest of his wine and pulls out his laptop.

“No,” she giggled, “no, no…”

“‘M doin’ it,” he said.

“Don’t do it,” she argued weakly, making no actual move to stop him. While she seemed to be on the fence about the idea, she had a slight grin on her face, her heart nearly racing out of her chest.

“We are so doing this,” he said, exploring the page. He gasps suddenly and taps on her leg, making her nearly spill the glass of wine. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N—”

“What? What? What?” She mocked him. With mischievous smirk on his face, he faces her, a slight purple hue to his lips.

“What if we did cam?”

And the rest is history.

Now, they dedicate their Friday nights to do cam videos. It started off as something they did on special occasions, quick little teasers that lasted no longer than ten minutes, but they ended up getting a lot of money for it. It helped pay their school loans and get a head start on their savings, and it gradually turned into a regular occurance.

By the time they are ready to begin their live one evening, it’s nearing ten o’clock. They’re on their bed, pillows and comforter long gone, leaving nothing but faded floral sheets, stretched tautly beneath them. Y/N is nestled into his side while Harry’s on his knees and fiddles with the computer, brows pulled together and lips puckered slightly. She’s tired, her swollen eyelids closing every few seconds. He kisses her forehead, wrapping an arm around her. Their laptop, with the main webcam, is propped up on a stool right behind the footboard, and the secondary camera, a cheap handheld camcorder connected to the computer with flimsy wires, which is used for close up shots, is thrown off to the side. Harry leans back on his heels.

“Ready?” He asks with a teasing smile. Even with such a small gesture, his grin is still infectious, with cute little dimples and laugh lines. She returns the smile. It’s a redundant question at this point, whether or not she’s ready, but Harry asks every time. It never felt like a chore; it was something they both enjoyed, and if they were to grow tired of it, they would stop. They were finally financially stable enough to be able to make the decision.

While initially they decided to start doing cam for the money, it became something that they both enjoyed doing. She always got this little rush of excitement in the seconds before they finally went live. This was the last moment of secrecy they would have for the next hour or so. To many, the thought of some strangers watching her and Harry at their most intimate would make them apprehensive, but she always got this exhilaration from it.

“Always,” she says, stealing one last kiss from him.

It’s a tradition of theirs to hit the “Go Live” button together, cheesy as it is, and tonight is no different. Their faces light up the screen, and they both grin, arousal building with each thrilling second. There is only a moment of calm before dozens of familiar usernames flood the screen.

“See some new ones,” Harry comments under his breath. She rests her cheek against his shoulder, toying with the rings on his fingers. The introduction part is always the most awkward; there is no decorum or set way that they have to be done, and not feeling comfortable using their first names, she and Harry found it difficult to find their rhythm and interact with the viewers. It felt a bit unforthcoming for them to just dive in without saying anything.

“What are we feelin’ tonight, lovie? Soft and vanilla or rough and dirty?” Harry asks, like he normally does.

Comments fill the screen; a lot of them describe what they would do if they were there, but most of them have similar responses: rough and dirty.

The couple very rarely genuinely ask the viewers what they want to see because the most important thing, to them, is that they are enjoying it. What’s the point of doing it if they aren’t enjoying themselves? Sure, they sometimes cater toward the audience (that’s the easiest ways to make any money), but for the most part, they stick to what they both know the other would enjoy. Harry gives her a soft smile, leaning in a little closer. No matter what she wants, it’s all the same to him; as long as he is with her, he likes just about everything.

“Rough and dirty,” she smirks, tongue curling over her teeth teasingly. “I want you to fucking wreck me.” She whispers that part, low enough for only Harry to hear. He hums appreciatively, leaning back.

Ding!

“Be careful what you wish for.”

He kisses her, rough and gnawing, their teeth knocking together with his tongue slipping through, gently prying her lips apart. He bites on her tongue, and she lets out a small whimper, trying to hold off a smirk. Even after all this time being together, since they were just teens, he still knows what makes her tick and ache and melt; he knows exactly where to kiss and bite and lick to make her fall apart. She tucks her arms beneath his own, draping tightly around his waist, her fingertips tracing along the plain of his back, and he shivers.

His hand wraps easily around her throat, another thing he found early on that she enjoyed. He can feel her breathing pick up. She tugs at his bottom lip, suckling at the skin. He digs his fingers deeper into her neck, pressing harshly onto her pulse point. Eyes rolling back, she moans, strained and muffled, breaking slightly, and wraps her hands around his wrist.

“Open,” he beckons, and she does as best as she can, jaw still confined within his strong grasp. Her tongue dips out, ready and willing. “Good girl,” he says, loosening his grip on her throat. A breath of air slips past her swollen lips. Spit dribbles out from his puckered lips onto her greedy tongue. She closes her mouth quickly to keep it all in, his hand tightening around her neck once again. She sighs, head tipping back.

“You know the rules, babylove. Don’t swallow.”

“Mhm,” she nods, voice muffled. Her fingers dip into his boxers, nails tracing over the inked skin. She can trace the outline of his tattoos from memory at this point, every curve, point, and shadow etched in her brain. She pinches the extra skin at his abdomen lightly, and he smiles, pressing a kiss to her swollen lips.

“Wan’ my cock, huh?” He raises a brow. “Should I make you beg?

Ding! Ding!

“No,” she mumbles, pouting slightly. “Wanna make you feel good.” He hums appreciatively, tapping her cheek lightly.

“Taught you well, lovie,” he says. “Down.” He guides her onto her onto her elbows as he adjusts onto his knees, her hands moving back under the elastic band, the tips of her fingers teasing his skin. “Le’ me see,” he coaxes, fingers tugging on her chin. Sure enough, his spit is still in the divot of her tongue. “Good girl, you can swallow now.”

Ding!

Her fingers tease up his thighs and into his boxers, cupping his balls suddenly. He bites his lip, slapping her on the cheek. It’s not enough to do anything more than a slight burn, but it leaves her tingly with her eyes fluttering closed.

“Don’t be greedy, slut,” he spits, yanking her head back by her hair.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “Just want you so bad.”

She tugs his boxers down, but only enough for his hard cock to slip out. She normally starts off slow, teasing him until he can't take it anymore and pushes her all the way down, using her as he pleases. That’s not the case tonight. A part of her wants to take control, to suck him until he’s nearly falling apart, his knees weak. She takes nearly all of him in her mouth, and he gasps with surprise, his hands combing through her hair, guiding her. She gags on him, her bottom lip pressed tightly to his balls. He tugs her back.

“Watch the teeth,” he hisses. She gasps for air, lips lingering on the red, nearly purple, tip. His hips buck. He breathes out through gritted teeth, shaky and heavy.

“Sorry, just wanna make you feel good,” she says, pressing a wet kiss to his hip. She runs her tongue over the divot of his hip bone.

“Want me to fuck your mouth, lovie?” He asks, his fingers tracing over her tender lips. She nods, and he can feel her trying to move, but he holds her back by the hair, grip tight. “Beg,” he says, brows cocked.

“Please, H, want you to fuck my mouth, use me,” she moans, mouthing over the head of his cock. He holds himself steady, teasing her, just barely letting her feel but not allowing her to fully take him in her mouth. A pool of spit slides down her lips and into his hand, wetting the skin even more, before it falls onto the mattress. Her hands travel up the back of his thighs and onto his partially clothed bum, giving him a cheeky squeeze.

“M’kay, relax, babylove,” he says, brushing flyaways from her forehead, the skin already sticky with sweat. “Hold still and look at me. You know the rules.” She looks up at him, wide eyes never breaking from his as he guides his cock down the length of her throat, squeezing and stroking. She barely winces as he thrusts his hips, shoving himself deeper with every move. Her tongue runs along the bottom ridge of his cock, tracing every vein.

Ding!

She squeezes the skin of his thighs, guiding him further down her throat. The filthy wet sounds make her clit throb and her arousal seep into the sheets. There’s absolutely nothing better than seeing him above her, lost in pleasure, his chest flushing red, nearly incoherent: all because of her. There’s also something incredibly intimate about it as well; he always insists on keeping eye contact until there are tears in her eyes. With one hand gripping her hair tightly while the other gently caresses her cheek, he guides himself into her warm mouth. He nibbles on his lip.

“Take it, baby,” he moans, stuffing his cock deeper in her mouth. He traces his fingers along her throat, feeling the muscles swell and contract beneath them. Saliva dribbles from her lips, down her chin and the length of his shaft. She chokes and gags, but she doesn’t let up.

She barely reaches the base, her nose only just grazing the curls before he’s yanking her back, a string of saliva trailing from the head to her swollen lips, which breaks under the force of her gasps, and his cock twitches at the sight of her looking properly wrecked, eyes wide, blown with lust, her lips swollen and wet from spit and pre-cum, and chest heaving.

“Bend over,” he says, tapping her cheek. “Made such a mess, baby,” he says after she moves up, running a hand over the wet patch that formed on the sheets. Like a good girl, she turns until she’s facing the headboard, her glistening pussy on display to their hundreds of viewers. She shakes with anticipation.

Harry doesn’t deter from his normal routine, not touching her until she’s nearly in tears. She can feel the heat from his hand hovering over her skin, and she can feel hungry eyes on her; a small part of her wants to shrink away, but with Harry right beside her, it makes her feel like the strongest, sexiest woman in the world. Harry finally runs a finger along her slit after a few tense minutes and roughly presses into her clit. Her hips buck into his hand, and she presses a cheek into the mattress, moaning with relief.

“Such a good little slut,” he hums. “So wet for us, baby.”

Us.

When he says that, her pussy clenches and a rush of arousal threatens to slip down her trembling thighs; she sinks further into the mattress, sliding down until her chest is pressed tightly to the sheets, and her thighs spread even further until the joints of her hips ache with overexertion, but the pain is welcomed.

“Keep 'em on or off?” He asks.

“On,” she answers, the feeling of his cool rings against her heated skin is comforting almost. Her stomach tingles when he slips two fingers inside her pussy, with his thumb massaging at the tender skin between her holes. He easily finds that spot inside her, the spot that makes

Her orgasm comes painfully soon, her clit throbbing and begging for attention as he fucks her so close to oblivion, his rings adding extra friction to her sensitive walls. The scent of her arousal is thick in the air as it slips down his hands, traveling either down to her belly or her thighs. She’s so close, close enough to taste it; she just needs one more push until her high completely swallows her, bathing her in a warmth that only he’s been able to give her, but she is, perhaps, a little too optimistic. With every helpless jut of her hips, the more frequent moans, and the tightening of her walls, Harry knows the signs of her impending orgasm, but he can’t let her have it that easily.

A pained yelp slips past her lips when he suddenly pulls away and smacks her clit with wet fingers, the fervent climax drifting away until a dull ache, of yearning and lust, is all that remains. He spanks her sensitive pussy and lands two more on her bum. She groans, savoring the sting from his rings, cold yet burning.

“Not yet,” he says, running his hand along her prickled skin. He spanks her, harder than before, and she groans with pleasure. He wants to see the raised imprint of his hand on her smooth skin.

She can feel herself slipping. It starts off slow, a slight fog behind her eyes, and then it drifts and settles, spreading to her limbs. It feels like being high, swaddled in a soothing haze, and you can only feel yourself. The external earth doesn’t exist, and in that moment, it’s just her and Harry. Her world muffles, the sporadic chimes coming from the laptop ceasing, and the mattress disappears from beneath her, leaving her floating and vulnerable, with nothing to hold her other than him.

Harry.

He has always been able to make her teeter on the edge of pain and pleasure, and with her senses are in overdrive yet dulled at the same time, she feel that edge slip away into the abyss, with each slap delivered to her ass, they’re dulled just a little bit more. Like an addict, she yearns to feel the first one, the one that made her legs tremble, the one that sent tingles up her spine and a burning to her supple skin.

“More,” she says, inching closer to him.

“More?” She can hear the smile in his voice. She stretches her arms in front of her, back arching further than ever before. He lands another slap to her ass, lower and closer to her dripping pussy. He kisses the welts that raised over her skin from the rings, but she can barely feel them, nothing more than a welcomed prickle.

He spits on her pussy and slips three fingers inside this time, stretching her further than before, and with the extra friction from his rings, she tightens up almost instantly, the burning fire from before coming faster and stronger than before.

“Fuck,” she moans, long and drawn out. His free hand spanks her again, and she hisses, her arms giving out. Pleasure rushes through her veins, threatening to envelop her, and she can feel herself give in once again, sinking into him and accepting anything he has to offer. “Close,” she whines, but he pulls away again, slapping her clit roughly. She cries out, wanting to shy away from him, but her body betrays her, and she backs into him, craving yet another stolen high.

“Move t’ the side, button,” he says, tapping her leg, and she does, turning until they’re parallel to the webcam. He only teases the head of his cock through her folds for a moment before he slams into her with little warning, her warmth swallowing him easily. This is something he could never get tired of: the feeling of her hot, wet walls gripping him and of her arousal slipping down his thighs.

Ding! Ding!

His near brutal pace knocks the wind from her chest, making her drawn out cries of pleasure break and split. As he pounds into her, his hips smacking harshly against her raw skin, the remnants of her ruined climaxes leave her walls overly sensitive to every rough thrust, but she backs into him, meeting his hips, eager to finally come undone. He digs his nails into her tender skin, and she lets out a breath.

There has always been a fine line between pain and pleasure, and Harry knows exactly how to dangle her right at the very edge.

“Takin’ me so well,” he coos, but she can’t even fathom his compliment in her addled mind, let alone respond. He wraps his hands around her throat and pulls her head next to his. He wants to feel her, the heat of her breaths, the salt on her skin, the tremors of her thighs, everything. Her body grinds back against him, whether consciously or unconsciously, he doesn’t know. Her eyes are closed, features pinched, chasing her high.

Y/N can feel everything, every rush of blood flowing in her veins, every stroke of his cock inside her, every bead of sweat that drips from his skin and onto her back. She can feel everything, yet nothing at all; it all blurs together into a blanket of warmth and euphoria, and he’s at the center of it all: holding her and pleasing her and giving her everything she never knew she desired. She can barely speak, nothing more than a few broken whimpers filling the thick air, lost amongst his heaving breaths and the chimes from the laptop, which is at the back of their minds at this point.

She hooks her arm behind her, around his neck, her fingers carding through the sweat-drenched locks. She tugs on them painfully hard when he hits her weak spot, and he groans. Her heart is nearly racing out of her chest when yet another taunting orgasm tightens her stomach.

“Need cummies,” she whines, her words slurring, head falling to the side. He nestles his nose into the crook of her neck, hips grinding his cock deeper inside her.

“No cummies, yet, lovie,” he says. “Wait f’ me.” He can feel her struggling to hold her orgasm back, the walls of her pussy fluttering, milking him; he groans, feeling more blood rush to his cock when she squeezes him even tighter. “Relax,” he coos, scratching his nails along her scalp. He slaps her clit, making her twitch and buck even more, and he spreads his fingers around the swollen skin of her pussy, teasing where they’re connected. He lets go of her neck, and she nearly collapses without his support, leaning heavily on her elbows, back arched.

“Please,” she whimpers, shaking her head, “Can’t hold it.”

She slumps onto the mattress, her quivering knees slipping out from under her. Her hips buck, a long, drawn out moan slipping out as toe-curling orgasm washes over her, bathing her in warmth and relief and pure bliss. He comes soon after, hands gripping her hips tightly. Her shallow breaths are barely audible in the thick air, amongst a cacophony of chimes from the cam and his own heavy breathing. He rubs along her back, pressing sporadic kisses to her spine, following the ridges up to her neck.

“Babylove?”

She doesn’t answer, only a weak whimper and a sigh leaving her as she shifts beneath him, causing his softening cock to slip out, their releases pooling beneath them. He quickly closes the laptop to keep some semblance of privacy, and he tries to ease her onto her back, but she’s unresponsive, head nestled deep into the bed, but her breathing becomes more stable, muscles lax.

“Y/N?” She hums and turns onto her back. He cups her cheeks, trying to look into her eyes. They’re half-lidded, and she can’t seem to focus on much of anything. “Can you get up f’me? Need t’ get ya cleaned up.”

She finally looks at him, her pupils dilated, like she’s faded, lost in an empty mind. She blinks and looks down at his hands on her arms. Her brows furrow, and the tremors return, starting in her hands and spreading to her legs. They’re not pleasant, like before when she felt like she was floating; these ones make her blood run cold. Her high lessens, her head still foggy, but the feeling returns in her limbs, leaving her skin burning and bruised. When she meets his gaze again, there’s a sinking feeling in her stomach, shame and dread.

In her current state of mind, she mistakes the concern in his eyes for anger, and tears fill her eyes. She disappointed him; she was being greedy and dirty and bad. She covers her face with her arms to hide the tears that slip out, knees tucking to her chest.

“‘M sorry,” she cries suddenly. His heart stops for a second. What on earth could he have done to make her want to apologize? He tugs her arms away from her face.

“For wha’?”

“You said no cummies, and I couldn’t hold it—” Her face crumbles. “I was being a bad, bad girl.” She mutters to herself, biting her lip, which quivers pitifully. “Please, please, don’t be mad,” she begs, hands clinging to him. Before, she felt absolute euphoria, a high she didn’t want to come down from, but now, her skin aches, and there’s a pang of guilt and shame in her belly that she can’t seem to soothe. She doesn’t even feel it when her teeth break past the skin of her lips.

“Hey, none of that,” he says, easing her bruised lip from her teeth. He runs a thumb over her knuckles. “‘M not mad, never, lovie,” he reassures her. “C’mere,” he says, tugging her into his arms. “Look a’ me.” He rests his forehead against hers. He’s had to coax her out of a subspace only a handful of times, but she has never crashed this hard. Never has she been this shaken, nor has it ever happened during a cam. He just wishes he noticed sooner; he should have known not to go as rough as he did, especially when she was feeling tired to begin with. When she’s in her subspace, she tends to take it a little too far, thinking she can take more than what she would normally handle.

“Better?” He asks her after a moment, and she nods, but her hands still quiver at her side. “Be right back, yeah?” He lays her back down gently and goes into the washroom to draw a bath. When he comes back, he finds her with her hands over her face, shoulders shaking.

“Can ya walk?”

“Yeah,” she says, scooting up off the bed, but her knees buckle, and they barely make it to the bathroom.

“I gotcha,” he says. “Jus’ gonna getcha cleaned up, feelin’ all better.” Her bum, the skin raised with welts made by his own hand, barely touches the water before she’s wincing. There’s a tinge in his stomach, but he continues to help her in, holding her under the armpits.

“In ya go,” he whispers, nursing her like she’s a toddler. The water is hot and comforting against her aching muscles. The lavender oil he tossed in leaves her skin silky with a tingeful burn on her bum and thighs. She clings to his arm, which has now wrapped tightly around her middle, pressing into her tender breasts.

“Come in with me,” she says. He sinks to his knees and cups her neck, elbow dipping in the water.

“Be right back, button,” he says, kissing her forehead lightly, “Jus’ need t’ change the sheets.”

He returns not a moment later and joins her in the tub, washing her body with a sweetly scented scrub. She comes fully down in the bath, with his arms coiled tightly around her, one over her chest and the other around her middle, their fingers toying together. The water’s run cold, but they don’t make any move to get out any time soon, basking in the warmth of each other.

Despite how many years they have been together, he still finds it difficult to believe that he can be so comfortable with another person.

She puts her heart, body, and soul fully in his hands and trusts him not to break it.

He trusts that she’ll do the same for him.

And when she snuggles into him and presses a tired kiss to his cool skin, after he gets them dried and in their bed once again, he knows that there is no other person in the world he would trust more with his heart than her.

—

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #ellie writes #ellie writes smut #ellie writes fluff #ish #gif not mine #credit to owner

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 years

Text

The Dragon Egg (Parts 26-29)

Final parts for @secrettunnelatla

Azula is several unique and distinct layers of anxious. There is the first layer; the typical stresses that come with knowing that she is in for a make or break moment. The layer beneath that is a knowingness that a break is going to be particularly devastating for her. And below that is knowing that Blue Talon is in the room over, that she will once again be forced to listen to Chan’s botched version of her abuse story.

Under that layer is knowing that the subject of said story will be in the crowd, she has already spotted him striking up conversation with Wan Shi Tong after being snubbed by Raava and Vaatu.

And then there is the deepest layer. Hama has invited herself to the performance, after she so adamantly refused to take her advice to not perform. The old bat tried her damndest to dissuade her. Worse still, the woman’s concerns are more than valid. After finally confessing that she had done cocaine, albeit only a little, Hama lamented that that’s more than enough to explain her baby’s low birth weight. And more than enough to put her into early labor. Early labor when her age alone already put her at risk for that. “You can go into labor any time now.” The woman had put it. She can’t say that she doesn’t feel as though it is a possibility. The contractions are becoming more regular.

She holds out her hand and their makeup and SFX artist carefully dresses her fingers with blue claw tips. The fix her up with dragon contact lenses and carefully paint shimmering scales onto her cheeks, neck, and hands.

The woman hands her a sugary blue drink, it is the one comfort she has tonight. With luck it will give her tongue the blue effect that she is looking for.

They fashion her hair into a messy bun and begin working on her undercut. She hopes that it will be another seamless blend between metal and opera aesthetics. With her locks in a pile on the floor they dress her hair with ornaments and hand her, her prop mask--the final piece to her costume.

It has been some time since she has worn something form fitting and she has to admit that she is a little nervous to do it for the first time in front of so many people. But the design team that Zhao had hired for her is masterful, they have crafted a dress that works well with her baby bump. The scales are positioned in just the right ways to shimmer over and around the bump. And they are rather comfortable, more so than she anticipated them being.

“Azula, you have a visitor.”

“Tell Seicho that I got her flowers and we can talk after the show.”

“It’s...uh...it’s Chan and I think that the other two are here as well.”

“Send them away.” Zhao calls from across the room. “We don’t have time for drama.”

“What do they want?”

The woman shrugs. “I didn’t ask.”

“You can let them in.”

Chan is anything but discreet when staring at her belly and even less so when they fall on her chest. Perhaps if she didn’t want to risk breaking her faux claws she would have given him a good slap. “What do you want?”

“To wish you luck.”

“I don’t need luck. I have skill.” She pauses. “And I didn’t leech off of someone else’s material.”

“We’re not going to be performing those songs.” Ruon replies.

“We should though.” Zirin mutters.

“I figured that it would be disrespectful.”

“You figured that out quite late, didn’t you?”

Ruon sighs. “Maybe, yeah.”

“And let me guess,” she turns to Chan, “you decided that you want to be a father.”

“Fuck no!” He replies abruptly. “I don’t want anything to do with the baby, okay.”

“Then I want nothing to do with you. See yourself out.”

“Azula.”

“I am quite busy. Zhao can lead you out if you can’t find the exit yourself.”

She watches him leave with Zirin tethered to his side. “Sorry about those two, Ruon mutters. If it makes you feel any better, we’re going to be going with our new surf rock image after this concert. I convinced them to take up a new band name and give you the rights to Blue Talon.”

At least she can go into her performance knowing that at least one of her former friends isn’t morally bankrupt.

She gets one final visitor before she takes to the stage. Raava pulls her into a careful hug and kisses her on the cheek. “I am delighted that you were able to make it.”

“I couldn’t possibly miss this.” She replies. “Not for anything.”

Her baby shifts.

.oOo.

She is cradled in an egg, a large shimmering thing blue in color and shot with veins of gold. The hiss of a smoke machine lets her know that it is almost time. By now Zuko has emerged from a pile of simmering soot.

She hears a bang and she knows that his fiery wings have burst to life. She makes a note to incorporate pyrotechnics into her shows after giving birth. She hears the crackle as his phoenix wings flare. And in tendrils of curling smoke with the mightiest roar she can manage, she emerges from her egg.

Slipping back into her harsh vocals is like slipping back into a well worn and favorite robe, somehow it always fits just right. Somehow it is always comfortable. She is aware of her limits, well aware and they have several plans to work with them. Should breathing become too difficult, she will gesture for Zuko to fill in. She will resume with an adjusted set of clean vocals.

For the time things are going well, she is still pleasantly reeling from the explosive applause that came with her appearance. Her surprise appearance.

Her lips curl into a smirk as her initial, teaser verse echoes about.

“It’s good to see you all again!” Zuko calls.

The claps are damn near deafening.

“I’d like everyone to give my sister an extra pleasant welcome, we wouldn’t be here without her pestering and nagging.”

“You’re an ass, Zuko.” She scans the crowd for her father. She finds him, arms folded, the most hideous snarl on his face. She imagines that the two bottles on the table will be empty by the end of the night.

“Tonight, a dragon joins the Phoenixes!”

Tonight, a dragon will take flight. TyLee pounds out the first notes on her drum. The crowd is already abuzz with a frantic energy. An ecstatic energy. An energy that has been slowly building band by band. She can only imagine how frenzied they will become by the time it is The Tui Las’ turn to take the stage.

She doesn’t have the energy to move and flounce about as she usually would, so she stands upon a raised platform with glittering ashes at her feet, singing into the microphone while thin wisps of smoke furl and unfurl around her.

Mai’s guitar thrums, she can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy that the woman can so liberally headbang, it is washed away by the sight of a banner unfurling from the balcony. She sees, in glittering acrylic paint, the maw of a dragon, its forked blue tongue thrashing. She can’t quite make out the words upon it, but she knows that it is for her. For her and her alone. Likely a gift from one of the fanclubs that had caught wind of her surprise enrollment. She closes her eyes as Mai’s solo wails on. And it is sound, everything is pure sound.

For a moment anxiety and trepidations give way to elation. To the highs of success and adoration. To the thrill and liberation that only music can bring. She tilts her head back and spreads her arms out. The spotlight glints off of her dress.

And while Zuko runs through his part, Azula points to the banner. She makes eye contact and sticks her tongue out, mimicking the image on the banner. The light twinkles upon her tongue piercing. And the crowd goes feral.

Zuko helps her down from the platform as she works her way back into the song. Her head spins with euphoria as the last vestiges of her misery, fear, and helplessness are shaken away by Zuko’s bass.

She makes a mental note to learn to play an instrument too. Perhaps the drums, she can’t name many lead vocalists who also play the drums. But she can do it, right now, she can do anything. The dragon is in flight and her wings are powerful.

She transitions into her operatic vocals. By now she is somewhat breathless, but it is alright. This is the sound she needs. The sound that is on her albums. The sound that has granted her so much attention. It is all her own. Indisputably so.

Zuko grins at her as she lowers the mic, a job well done. He gives her shoulder a little squeeze. And then he steps back. And Mai steps back while TyLee comes forward.

Zuko and Mai lay their instruments in the egg and TyLee sets her drumsticks at the bass of it. An offering to the dragon. They lay themselves down in those glittery ashes and wait until it is their turn to rise once more.

The stage goes black and then the light falls on her. A single beam that paints her body in a radiant halo.

As a forest falls into a hush before a storm, the venue falls into a silence so complete. Complete until she decides to break it. Break it with a voice like wind sifting through curtains. Like a summer storm rousing bells into a frenzy. Something powerful and light all at once. Something both airy and sturdy.

The spotlight is growing uncomfortably hot, and there is a new energy in the air. She doesn’t think that she has ever been paid such close attention and from so many people at one. She slides into the next note. The baby shifts. The breath she draws is sharp, she improvises a high note to accent it. There is a murmur of amazement.

A small smile play on her lips as she transitions into the next set of notes. The theater throws her voice back at her and she throws it back at the theater. It is a deviation from what she had planned but it is easier somehow. Easier and otherworldly. It is an experiment, a risk. This whole night has been a risk, what is one more? The night is going too well for her to not garner successful results.

As her last chorus begins, her wings unfold as shadows on the back wall. The smoke machines cough out plumes until she is lost in the smoke. And with her body fully enveloped, the stage fades to black once more.

She isn’t sure what to make of the tangible silence to follow. Not until it erupts into a deafening applause.

And then come the sparks, the sparks and flames and Zuko, Mai, and TyLee spring back into action for a bombastic finale. She feels much bolder now, unstoppable. Perhaps if her solo had been even a degree less successful she would have come down enough to know that she is pushing too hard.

As things are, she is taken by the night, by the magic of sound and melody. By the connections; to Zuzu, to Mai and TyLee, to the audience… These connections, for a time, block out a different connection. A connection she should be feeling by nature.

She slips back into her harsh screaming vocals and just in time. She holds her note as the first sharp pang bursts through her core. She screams louder, harder. By all means, it is the best scream she has ever done on stage. She isn’t sure if she is dismayed or relieved that the audience thinks that it is just part of the show. Most of the audience anyhow, Hama goes rigid. She grits her teeth as Zuko sings through his part. She feels a cramp like no other. And she sees faces. There is her father his expression is something conflictingly smug and shamed, he turns his head. There is Seicho, wincing. And Raava, she hasn’t seen that brand of concern since her mother died. She can’t find Hama.

The music cuts suddenly and with it, her dreams and aspirations.

Zuko hooks her under the arm.

“What are you doing?” She mutters, “you need to finish the show.”

“We need to get you to the hospital.” Mai replies.

“Or, at least, to Hama.” TyLee adds.

___________

Y’all are gonna have to forgive me lol, I don’t know too much about childbirth and I couldn’t find some of the answers to the questions I had about c-sections. That said, this is your warning if childbirth and surgeries make you squeamish.

She wants to cry. Cry for the pain and cry for her lost dreams. She had been so close. So, so very close.

And now she is here in a hospital bed, here in excruciating pain that anesthetics can only seem to take the edge off of. They give her commands, they tell her to push and breathe. They are vaguely reminiscent of the mock sessions that Hama has taken her though. But her head is too dizzy to truly do anything beyond hear the orders.

She picks out Hama’s face, but the woman mostly lingers back waiting to be called on for reminders and forgotten rundowns on her condition and medical history. She thinks that Seicho is there too, banished to the other end of the room so not to obstruct.

Azula screams again and they demand that she pushes. She thinks that the push she gives is more instinctual than a response to the order. There is another reminder to breath. She can’t do it. She is growing faint.

She thinks that this baby is going to rip her in two. Spirits, she could have sworn that they said it would have a low birth weight. Spirits, she can’t imagine what a standard weight baby would feel like.

Tears are running down her face but she barely registers them. And then she hears the words Caesarean section. Her face pales further and then further still when they mention that the baby’s heartbeat is unstable.

It is just as well, she doesn’t think that she can keep herself awake to deliver this baby naturally. She clutches the bed sheets as they clean her abdomen. They say something to her, something that she doesn’t catch. She thinks that they are trying to explain what they are doing.

She feels a hand holding hers. It is Seicho’s. Woefully and resentfully, she wishes that it was Ozai’s. Her father should be here. He should be holding her hand. He should protect her when she can’t do it herself. And this time she doesn’t think that she can.

“It’s alright.” One of the doctors promises. “You’re going to be fine.”

To her horror, they keep her awake. They carefully fix the IV into her arm and administer a regional anesthesia. Agni, she wishes that they would just put her out entirely.

“You did good tonight.” Seicho says.

“Mmm hmm.” Azula mannages as they begin to make the incision.

“Really good. You should see what they’re saying about the performance.”

Azula grits her teeth, “that I’m a fool for performing eight months pregnant.”

“No! Okay, well, some people are saying that…”

She must admit that Seicho has just provided her with a rather solid distraction. “They have no right to say anything about…”

Seicho laughs. “But they’re also saying that it was impressive that you could do it at all. And that your performance was amazing, they were only disappointed to see it cut short.”

“Are ‘they’, the audience or the judges?”

“Both, I think?” Seicho replies. “The competition is still going on of course, but your odds of winning still look pretty good according to the live updates.”

Azula’s grimaces at a tugging sensation that radiates up her abdomen.

“Are you in any pain?” The doctor asks.

She shakes her head, “it’s not comfortable though.” And the discomfort seems to last hours. The doctors insist that it had been only an hour and twenty-minutes. And for that hour and twenty-minutes she doesn’t even get to hold her baby.

“She’s being transferred to the NICU.” They inform her. “It might be several days, possibly weeks until you get to hold her. We need to get her stable first.”

Azula can only nod. She is lucky that her baby is alive at all.

______________

Her baby comes with a list of risks and warnings. Obligations and an extensive list of follow up appointments. Here and there she does interviews, ones wherein she promises that she is still very much active, that new songs are in the works and that she has several music video ideas in mind. Ones wherein she announces that she plans to collaborate with From Ashes to Phoenix more and that she plans to take up drumming while on maternity leave. That interviews will be less frequent and that her first tour isn’t slated for at least a year.

She thinks that she is driving Seicho mad with anticipation, she has only been promising her a real date for ages now. But she has things to attend to first. She is putting the finishing touches on her nursery, while profusely but silently thanking Zhao’s wife for providing her with the toys and baby care supplies that she had neglected to buy herself. What Zhao and his wife don’t provide comes in the form of gifts from Iroh, Zuzu, Mai, TyLee, Raava, and Vaatu. Chan has given her a gift as well but a boob pillow isn’t exactly the sort of thing that she wants in her baby’s crib. She supposes that it’s the thought that counts. It is a small little gesture, something that has her inclined to think that he doesn’t want to sever ties with her completely. She puts that to the side for when she has time to deal with it.

“This is so exciting!” TyLee gushes.

Azula is nearly inclined to say that TyLee is more excited to see the baby in her mother’s arms than she is.

“You must be thrilled.” Seicho notes.

Truth be told there is a shot of nervousness too. She hadn’t had enough time to consider what kind of mother she would be. And that in itself is a red flag. Surely she can be no worse than her own father.

The doctor beckons her into the room. “Are you ready to meet your baby?”

Azula nods.

“Did you pick out a name yet.” Inquires another doctor as the first leaves to retrieve her baby.

Azula nods again. “It’s Anzu.”

“That’s so pretty.” TyLee smiles.

“Thank you.”

The doctor emerges. “Here she is.” Gently the woman transfers Anzu into Azula’s arms. She is a precious little thing. Soft, squishy, and terribly small.

“Is she going to stay this small?” Azula asks.

“Most likely, yes. Even if she wasn’t a pre-term baby, you are rather small.”

Azula flushes lightly.

“That’s her polite way of saying that you’re super teeny!” Seicho ruffles her hair.

Azula holds Anzu’s head against her breast. It doesn’t remain there for long, Azula finds that the baby is a wiggly thing. She opens her eyes but they don’t seem to find focus on anything in particular. Azula holds out her finger for the girl to grasp.

“She’s quite a fussy one.” The doctor notes. “Preterm babies tend to have irregular sleeping and eating patterns, so that’s something to prepare yourself for. We’ll be keeping her for another week, just to make sure that she stays stable, but she’s just about ready to come home.”

“I’ll pass the warning onto Zhao.” Azula replies as she strokes Anzu’s hair. “Have you been playing music for her like I asked? I want her to be a musician too.”

“We have.” The woman assures her. “Mostly classical music for now. But she is fond of zither music and the pan pipes.”

Perhaps she will learn to play the zither and the drums. “You know how to play the zither, don’t you, TyLee?”

“And the harp.”

“I can play an accordion!” Seicho declares.

“You can?” Azula furrows her brows.

“Sure. I just can’t play it good.” Seicho shrugs.

Azula sighs, she isn’t sure of just what kind of upbringing Anzu is going to have. With Seicho as a fill in father. Though Zhao, his wife, and Iroh show more promise. At least she has options. Options and a solid support system.

A musical career and motherhood. She will make them both work somehow.

____________

She lets Zuko, Mai, and TyLee tag along. Zhao and his wife have kindly extended her a much needed night off and she is spending it in Seicho’s chair. “I don’t need hand holding, Zuzu.” She rolls her eyes as Seicho brings the needle to her chest. “If I can handle childbirth, I can handle another tattoo.”

“You were numb for the childbirth.” Zuko points out.

“I suppose that I was, yes.”

Seicho makes great time, at this rate they will have time to go out for dinner after the tattoo has been finished. Already, she has the outline of the dragon egg and she is working to surround it with music notes.

Azula closes her eyes and relaxes as much as the constant needle bites will allow. Her mind wanders away from the tattoo parlor and to the stage. It is strange to think that it has only been a month since Audio of Agni. A month since she was able to hang her award certificate on the wall of her recording studio.

She almost can’t distinguish the buzzing of her phone from the whir of the tattoo gun as it pumps more shimmering blue into her skin. She declines the call.

“Who was it?” Zuko asks.

“It was father.” She mutters. “He’s been calling a lot lately.” A lot since he realized that his gleaming little star is shining perfectly fine without him. Much better in fact, without the pressures that he puts on her.

“What does he want?” Mai grumbles.

“Who cares.” Zuko scowls.

Deep down, she does. Deep down she misses him. Misses his praise and his subtle and hard to acquire affections. Misses the man he was before the booze. “Do you think that rehab would help him, Zuzu?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“I think that you shouldn’t make it your problem.” Seicho pulls the tattoo gun back and shrugs. “You have a baby and a career to worry about and that’s plenty. You can talk to him when he calls you to tell you that he went to rehab on his own.”

And yet her heart aches for the people that she has cut out of her life. She supposes that she has let enough people in to balance things out. She has friends now, real friends. She has a brother, an uncle, a spunky, highly agitating, girlfriend. She has that dolt Zhao and she has her baby.

She has more than she had lost.

“I don’t need him.” She finally replies.

“Good.” Zuko replies. He has made more progress of his own, perhaps more than even she. He’d built From Ashes To Phoenix from nothing. He’d kindled the flame and then doused it and then flared it up again higher than before. All that remains of his troubles are a series of faint puncture scars on his arms.

“When does your tour start, Zuzu?”

“The beginning of next month. Are you gonna see us play?”

“I’ll let you know when Anzu tells me.” She laughs.

“Well, let us know when you’re touring again, we’ll see your show.”

“I sure hope so, TyLee, you guys will be the opening act!”

“Stop moving so much!” Seicho exclaims.

“Sorry.” Azula mutters. She watches as Seicho moves the tattoo gun across the egg. Somehow she has managed to create an effect not dissimilar to that of her Audio of Agni dress. She pauses to swap out the ink colors. Her hand is so dainty and elegant as she fills in and shades. Finally she pulls it back and hands Azula a mirror. She doesn’t need it to know that Seicho’s work is as fine and painstaking as ever. That it is perfect. That it is worthy of being on her skin.

Seicho gently applies a layer of antibiotic ointment.

“Are you sure that you don’t want me to make adjustments to that tattoo while we’re here?” Seicho gestures to the dragon curling around her arm.

“I’m sure, Siecho. I need this tattoo as it is.” There are nights when it is painful to look at. Nights when it is a glaring reminder of the people she lost. The friends who betrayed her, who almost reaped her of everything she had. But it is also a reminder of what she had tamed and reclaimed.

For better or for worse, Blue Talon is a part of her. Just as much as Anzu and the music industry. And for better or for worse, Blue Talon is a mark on her skin. Just like Anzu.

Tattoos aren’t art, she decides, they are stories. Profound ones. And Seicho has a particular way with words. A particular way of helping her tell her story.

“Alright then, we’re all done here!” Seicho pecks her on the forehead.

Seicho locks and darkens the parlor. She takes Azula’s hand. TyLee takes her other one. And Mai takes TyLee’s free hand. Zuko completes the chain. She walks down the street. A dragon among phoenix.

She thinks that it is best this way.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Azula/Cupholder girl #Fanfiction

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gmwproblems · 4 years

Text

Zay - Teaser

The chapter is 80% done. I just have one hodgepodge scene and that’s it.

Yes, hello. What years have they been.

After school, Zay traveled to Farkle's house. He didn't have to be to work until 6 and something needed to be done about the whole Farkle situation. The Maya-Riley situation he was staying out of. Girl shit is best left to girls. The Lucas situation he was going to ignore for the time being. Maybe that was the wrong thing to do but time would tell. This Farkle situation though, needed to get sorted right away because out of everyone - even Lucas - he saw himself the most in Farkle. Zay could understand and sympathize with the betrayal he was probably still feeling. Sure, Farkle said everything was fine but it wasn't. And perhaps the Farkle situation was also a situation that was best left to time but Zay could only have so much patience when it seemed each of his friends were dealing with their own particular crises. Something needed to be under control.

The doorman was new. He looked Zay up and down. With narrow eyes, he called the back up guard, obviously in disbelief that Zay was on the list of welcomed guests. Zay rolled his eyes. He was doing his job, he guessed but there was always the thought. The doorman gave him the go-ahead and Zay straightened out his uniform, looking past him. He entered the elevator, rehearsing all the apologies and building olive branches for Farkle. Things were usually pretty easy with him, like on the phone but that was just Farkle's facade. It'd be worse if he wasn't still mad. That would mean he doesn't care anymore.

Zay approached the outside of Farkle's loft and the door was cracked. The rock music was raving, so he took that as an invitation. It seemed normal; Farkle always studied with a playlist loud enough to blow anyone's brains out. Zay eased through the loft and saw the bedroom door closed. Zay didn't think he had company. Even so, what could they be doing that is so private? Or he couldn't be apart of? Without hesitation, Zay opened the door and nothing could have prepared him for what was on the other side.

His wide eyes were welcomed to the sight of his dear, sweet, friend Riley - the girl who made up an apology song about eating his grandmother's annual cookie - graciously on top of his bookish and sweeter friend Farkle in pieces of her cheerleader uniform, who had one hand on her bare backside and the other on her naked back.

"OH JESUS! OH NO!" Poor Zay shielded his eyes with his arms.

Riley shrieked and found Farkle's pillow to cover herself. "Zay!" Farkle groped at his pants, pulling them back up.

Zay immediately turned around, giving them time although there wasn't enough seconds in the world to lessen their humiliation. "Don't worry, Riley I didn't see anything." He lied. "Farkle, I didn't see anything either." He really lied.

"GET OUT ZAY!" They yelled at him in unison and he did as he was told.

Zay ran out of the loft, repeating,"...fuck me up, fuck me up, fuck me up..." He went down into the subway and jumped into a train. He collapsed into a seat, his mind racing. He was never good at keeping secrets. Zay was feeling foggy and confused. They were all friends. Why did they lie to each other? Didn't they trust each other anymore? Zay felt that he was on autopilot all the way to Lucas' house. He climbed the fire escape and tapped on the window. Lucas was there to open it.

"Zay, what's up man?" Lucas casually greeted.

"Yo, you won't believe - " Just as soon as he started to tell his nightmares coming to life, he turned and saw Maya in the corner sitting at his desk.

"'Sup, fool?" She nodded.

Suddenly, Zay didn't know what to say.

"Maya, I... didn't expect to see you here." He had a nervous smile.

"OK...?" She shrugged. Maya was friends with Lucas too, of course Zay knew that. It wasn't out of the ordinary for them to be hanging out, especially now that apparently her and Riley were on the outs. Perhaps because Farkle and her were so very in but, it's clear that Maya was not aware of this. The Farkle situation has now entered a level of delicacy. Goddamn it.

"Dude, what's up?" Lucas said again, more concerned. "You're literally sweating." Both Maya and Lucas were watching him. He had to speak. Zay's mouth was steadily opening and then a barrage of chirps came from his phone. He took the iPhone out of his pocket to see text after text from none other than Farkle. "Who's blowing you up like that?"

"That would be Farkle. He was probably calling me on the train but he couldn't reach me. AT&T sucks ass." He put his phone away. "He probably doesn't want me to tell you about what I saw."

"What you saw?" Maya perked up.

Zay took a pensive pause, but continued. "I was going to talk to Farkle after school and his door was open. I went in and I saw... I saw things."

"Things?" Maya questioned.

"Zay, what are you talking about, man?" Lucas folded his arms, losing his patience.

"I saw... him and Riley... and they were..." Zay was amazed that he couldn't even say it, as it he was under some spell. "They were..." He began to gesture.

"They were what?!" Maya demanded, now standing.

"They were -" Zay was almost frantic, in a hopeless game of charades until he made a hole with one hand and put it back and forth around his other hand's finger.

Maya's thick eyebrows went to highest point on her forehead. "You mean, they were -"

"Yes! They were!" Zay said relieved.

"No! Nope! You're lying!" Maya was in disbelief.

"I wish man, I wish!"

"Shut the fuck up! I don't believe you!" She was shocked.

To further his point, he then showed Maya one of Farkle's abusive texts telling him that he better keep his mouth shut.

"That doesn't prove anything. Everyone tells you to shut up." Maya said matter of factly.

"Maya, I saw it with my own two, innocent until today, eyes! Riley and Farkle? They fuckin' on the low." Zay finally managed to say.

"This is unbelievable." Maya shook her head, realization and then disappointment washing over her. She saw the image but still couldn't absorb the concept.

"I know, man. I know." Zay fell into Lucas' bed, hoping for the opposite. Lucas just stood in a stoic silence. "I just don't understand. Why sneak around? Why lie?"

"I gotta go." Maya muttered to herself and made a break for Lucas' window.

Surprisingly, Lucas didn't stop her, Zay noticed. He only said, "Text me when you get in." He watched her carefully deescalate down the fire escape and closed the window, locking it, then shutting the curtains. Lucas turned back to Zay, arms still folded with a locked jaw.

"You haven't said a word." Zay observed. "So you knew about this." It wasn't a question. Lucas could always say so much to Zay without saying anything at all.

Lowering himself with Zay, Lucas made an exhale of relief joining his best friend and confidant on the bed. "Farkle told me when they first had sex and that was a month ago, about. I didn't know if they were still hooking up; we've never spoke about it since."

"Well, why all the secrecy? Why only tell you?"

Tension took over Lucas' demeanor again. "It didn't make sense."

"What didn't?"

"Apparently, Riley was talking to him about us getting back together."

Zay's eyebrows rose and scrunched together. "You and Riley? Oh lord, no. No. We cannot go through that again."

"Right, well, she had other plans according to Farkle... And the thing is Zay, he was right. The night of Darby's 's rave - the night they first had sex - Riley came to my house and tried to re-initiate things. She tried to have sex with me and I... I rejected her."

Zay bowed his head, "So, after that: Farkle."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure."

"And you didn't tell him?"

"I didn't see the point because I thought they were going to become exclusive after that. And anyway, how could I? Even though he was crazy confused, he was also happy -"

"When Farkle's confused, he is most definitely not happy - " Zay came quick with the counterpoint.

"It would have devastated him, Zay." Lucas said finally and absolutely.

After thinking a while, Zay agreed, "Yeah. I get it." He exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his dewy neck. "I'm guessing I'm the only one who knows about this."

"Correct. Please, please let it stay that way." The two friends looked each other in the eyes. Zay was deflated but held his pinky to Lucas. The boys shook on it.

"I got to get to work."

"OK."

Zay collected his bag and stood in the doorway of the bedroom. He was about to make an exit before looking back at him, "We should be better than this, man."

Lucas' stare slightly faltered with a flicker of sadness. His lips thinned and he nodded quickly. "I know."

#gmw #gmw fanfiction #girl meets world #girl meets world fanfiction #riarkle #lucaya #riarkle fanfiction #zay #lucas #maya #riley #farkle #zay babineaux #lucas friar #maya hart #riley matthews #farkle minkus

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glycerineclown · 4 years

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here’s a teaser of the “anvil’s a bdsm club and frank is the bouncer” au! this is still kind of rough (i literally started writing night before last) but please enjoy while i have more fun doing character research than i have in ages!

also, current total word count: 2182!!! on a fuckin’ roll!

paging @selinaaas @fortysevenswrites @fiddledeedee85 @heidiamalia @letothegodemperor @scalesandredroses

The night air is bracing as Karen steps out of the cab. There’s an awning over the door to the brick building, and Karen ducks under it to get out of the rain as Dinah pays their driver.

There’s no knob. A neon sign’s lit up next to the door, outlining five capital letters—ANVIL—and an arrow pointing down toward a doorbell. The single window is covered.

She has goosebumps, and a nervous roiling in her gut.

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

Shutting the cab’s door behind them, Dinah joins her, straightening her coat and oversized handbag. She goes to press the button, but Karen tenses up.

“Wait, hang on, I—”

Dinah’s finger stops, hovering over the button. “What is it.”

“You’re sure I can just watch? That won’t be weird?”

The woman sighs, dropping her hand and squaring her shoulders toward Karen. “Yes, I promise. You told me yourself, you want—”

The door swings open before she can finish, though, and a figure steps out from the shadows. “The buzzer not work?”

“Buzzer’s fine, just cold feet,” Dinah says. “Got a first timer here, Frank.”

The man grunts. “Can I see some ID, ma’am?”

Karen tucks some of her hair behind one ear, and reaches into her bag to produce her driver’s license. “Here.” He shines a flashlight over her picture, and looks up at her face before handing it back.

“Welcome to Anvil. Come on in, we’ll get you set up.”

The heavy door slams behind them with a clang, and they step through velvet curtains, and into a small lobby. There’s a black tufted couch against one wall, and low lighting from sconces, a sign for the bathrooms. Dinah catches her fingers in Karen’s elbow, guiding her toward the small counter situated opposite, which the bouncer—Dinah called him Frank—has stepped behind.

“First night’s free, when you’re referred by one of our members,” he says, nodding to Dinah. “You decide to come back, there’s a subscription plan that includes our weekly events, and a workshop each month—Curtis teaches beginning and intermediate bondage on first Thursdays, can’t miss that.”

Karen can see the man better, now. His hair is shorn on the sides, five o’clock shadow, black sweatshirt with sleeves tugged to the elbows. Pink marks up his muscled forearms that could only be from rope.

“Got some forms for you to sign off on,” he says, ducking down to pull out a few pieces of paper. He tucks them onto a clipboard, and hands her a pen from a cup. “Cell phones are not allowed past the lobby. We have a coatroom that stays locked, if you want to leave a bag or anything else.”

Karen swallows, and looks down at the sheet on top as Frank continues his gravelly introduction—and on a dime, his tone switches from rehearsed to pointed.

“We take privacy and security very seriously,” he says, and Karen’s eyes dart up. “Please be aware that everyone you will meet has a day job, and they won’t want to talk about it, or give out too much personal info. Don’t touch anybody without asking.”

“Of course,” she says, with a quick nod, and turns to Dinah. “I, uh—I should sit down and read this.”

“All right,” Dinah says, stepping away from the counter and pointing a thumb toward the restrooms. “I’m going to change, I’ll meet you back here.”

Karen takes a seat on the edge of the couch, and reads through the fine print. Frank had covered the gist of it verbally, but there’s additional rules about nudity (accepted), safewords (required), alcohol consumption (closely monitored), as well as the meaning of different wristbands. On the third page is an event calendar, and a list of available classes. Someone named Elektra teaches kinbaku and impact play by appointment, and Micro offers group classes in communication and consent on the second Saturday of each month.

Frank teaches flogging and suspension safety to individuals and couples, also by appointment.

Karen signs her name at the bottom, and gets up, approaching the counter again. There are items for sale beneath the countertop, displayed behind glass, collars and restraints in black leather, silver buckles and chains gleaming under the inset lights. A handwritten sign reads, Genuine leather and vegan goods, crafted in-house! Support your local kinksters!

“You just a spectator tonight?”

It’s Frank. He’s talking to her, and holding his hand out for the clipboard.

Karen draws a blank for a moment, and scrambles to give him the forms. “How—I mean, yes, but—”

“You’re nervous, is all,” he says, glancing over her initials and final signature before opening a drawer behind the counter. He pulls out a wristband—it’s got yellow happy faces—and Karen extends her right hand. With practiced efficiency, hardly touching her skin, Frank secures it around her wrist. “This is designed to be a safe space. But if anybody don’t take no for an answer, or crosses any boundaries you’re not comfortable with, come talk to me. I’ll throw ‘em out on their ass.”

Karen chuckles. “Okay.”

A door behind them creaks, and Dinah steps out holding her coat and bag. She smiles at Karen and does a little twirl, showing off the black slip she’s changed into, the looser fall of her curls. Karen immediately feels out-of-place in the rather conservative cap-sleeve dress she’d worn to work—Dinah looks like she just walked out of 1994, in the best way.

She saunters up to the counter, and Frank reaches across for her things.

“Bill’s in a mood tonight,” he says. “Don’t let ‘im give you a hard time.”

Dinah scoffs at him. “Came here for a hard time, Frank.” Karen relinquishes her bag as well, and Dinah reaches for Karen’s hand. “Come on, sweet girl.”

A bit surprised at the gesture, but pleased all the same, Karen takes it, squeezing hard as they near the door. As if to distract herself from everything that could be behind it, Karen leans into Dinah’s ear and mutters, “He seems nice.”

Dinah’s face twists into a grin. “They call him The Punisher.”

#while the iron's hot #kastle #op

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yeonchi · 3 years

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Doctor Who Hiatusbreaker Update 2

Although the premiere of Doctor Who Series 13 is still a while off, let alone the announcement of a premiere date, there are a few things I’d like to talk about before that time comes. Let’s get right into it.

Filler series plans to talk about Series 1-10

Some time ago, I had plans to make a ten-part series talking about Series 1-10 in detail, but because I had a lot of stuff going on, those plans were reduced to something I call Doctor Who 10 for 10 - 10 Things for 10 Series, which was to state ten things about each series with at least 4 to 6 of these things being my opinions on each series. This was intended to be a filler series to bide the time before Series 13 comes out, but that may have to come at another time. I’m also continuing with Kisekae Insights if anyone wants to check it out.

The post-Series 13 forecast

Since Series 13 would be Jodie Whittaker’s third series as the Doctor, signs are pointing to this being her final series. There are also rumours stating that there will be two specials in 2022 that would serve as her final episodes. If this is the case, then it means that Jodie Whittaker would have been the Doctor for five years; a five-year-long ordeal of pain because series seem to be released pretty much every other year as a result of the almost-year-long gaps between them, not to mention the fact that less episodes are being produced as time goes on. Whether Chris Chibnall will be remaining on is still unknown at this time. Frankly, I’ll be glad when this is all over because I (and many other fans) have been kept hanging for so long. I just hope the Timeless Child payoff will be worth it.

At this point, the only reason why I’m still watching the series is mainly because I want to know how the Timeless Child arc plays out. The initial shocks have come and gone, but now this is where we wait and see if the aftershocks are as worse.

When I started my Thirteenth Doctor Reviews, I made a pact that I would cut off all ties with the series going forward if the Fourteenth Doctor was another female. Given the Timeless Child arc and the rumours that Olly Alexander would replace Jodie Whittaker (which would make him the first gay actor to play the Doctor) that came and went because his agent stated that he was focusing on music for the time being, I’ve honestly stopped giving a shit at this point. I’ll probably continue being a casual fan of Doctor Who, watching episodes as they come out, but regardless, all that this series will be to me is like what the Koei Warriors series has degraded itself to over the past decade. I’ll still be grateful for all the inspiration and opportunities it has provided me with over the years, but I’ll probably accept that the series has gone on a downward spiral with seemingly no way of coming back up. But hey, all will be revealed in due time, so the forecast isn’t that bleak for now.

The first look into Series 13 (added 26 July 2021)

So just today, two days after I originally published this post, the teaser trailer for Doctor Who Series 13 was released following the 2021 San Diego Comic Con@Home. Aside from the Doctor, Yaz and Dan, the only other character we see is Vinder, a recurring character throughout the series who will be played by Jacob Anderson. Recurring character, you say, and that’s because Series 13 will apparently be a single serialised story. This brings callbacks to The Trial of a Time Lord or more loosely, the multiple two-parters of Series 9. We still don’t get an exact premiere date, only that it will premiere “later this year”, but given that Series 11 and 12 took about 10 months to film, we can predict that filming of Series 13 will likely be wrapping up in the next month. Whether there will be a shorter run of five or six episodes (thereby reserving two of those episodes for the 2022 specials, assuming they won’t be filmed separately to Series 13) is unknown, but regardless, I’m looking forward to watching and reviewing the series for myself.

Jodie Whittaker and Chris Chibnall leave Doctor Who (added 30 July 2021)

In news that will surprise no one, Jodie Whittaker and Chris Chibnall have announced that they will be leaving the series in 2022. Technically, the news isn’t much of a surprise in terms of Whittaker than it is for Chibnall, as Russell T Davies and Steven Moffat have been showrunner for two Doctors each. But hey, with this, it means that my Thirteenth Doctor Reviews will also be a review of Chibnall’s run as showrunner.

My initial thoughts on this, which may or may not change coming up to Whittaker’s final episode - it was an okay run while it lasted, but honestly, good riddance. How’s that five year plan of yours going, Chibnall? If your plan was to divide the fanbase and leave them hanging with gaps between series, then you’ve really done it.

On top of this, Series 13 will be six episodes long, with the remaining two episodes to be broadcast as specials in 2022. The first of them will be a New Year’s Special (surprise surprise) and the second will follow in Spring 2022 (Northern Hemisphere). The Thirteenth Doctor’s final episode will premiere in Autumn 2022 (Northern Hemisphere) as part of the BBC’s Centenary celebrations. Some tentative dates I’m predicting are 18 October 2022, the 100th anniversary of the BBC, 23 November 2022, the 59th anniversary of Doctor Who, or 1 January 2023, which would make it another New Year’s Special (I’m not discounting 25 December 2022, I just think it’s less likely given how this era has been).

With this, the Fourteenth Doctor is expected to debut in 2023, the 60th anniversary year of Doctor Who. I just hope the new production team doesn’t disappoint the fans with that.

In terms of statistics, Jodie Whittaker has played the Doctor for 31 episodes, making her run the second shortest behind Christopher Eccleston. Peter Capaldi played the Doctor for 40 episodes, Matt Smith for 44 episodes and David Tennant for 47.

My hopes for Whittaker and Chibnall’s final episodes haven’t changed; I want to see what happens with the Timeless Child arc (and also Ruth). Whether the Fourteenth Doctor will be male or female (or played by a non-binary or trans actor), I have a few basic preliminary hopes for the next run; make each series 13 episodes again with a Christmas Special each year and put the series back on Saturday nights, like it was before Whittaker and Chibnall. Also, can we go back to filming in the 16:9 ratio? I can never get over how weird it looks on my screen (at full screen, it doesn’t look so weird when I have it playing on half screen, which is what I usually do when I write my reviews).

Jay Exci - The Fall of Doctor Who

Yes, it has been a while and I know I could have told everyone about this earlier, but better late than never I suppose. A couple of months ago, Jay Exci did a 5-hour long critique of the Chibnall era in his video, The Fall of Doctor Who. For some reason, there are those who see it as controversial because they’re NPCs who don’t want to hear criticism of the Chibnall era or they’re spergs who aren’t mature enough to sit through a 5-hour video they can watch in chunks, but hey, it’s pretty good. This is more in-depth than the reviews that people like Bowlestrek or Nerdrotic make, which essentially put Jay on their level in the eyes of the NPCs despite denying that they are on their level and being a sperg about how they’re better than them. Welcome to the party, Jay, you can check out anytime but you can never leave.

Anyway, you can check out the video below. Even if you don’t feel like watching the whole video, I highly suggest that you watch section 4.2 onwards (timestamped link here) as it does resonate with my feelings on the Timeless Child arc. I swear, this is just like Dynasty Warriors 9 all over again. I know the feeling.

youtube

Cancel culture comes for Noel Clarke and John Barrowman

The thing about cancel culture is that people can be petty about things other people have done or said years ago and they can justify it with the excuse that they’re doing it to hold those people accountable. Depending on the context, it can expose the fact that that person is a major piece of shit or it can be an overreaction to something, which in the minds of today’s society is normally the latter.

Around the time that Noel Clarke was nominated for a Bafta at the end of March, allegations emerged of abuse and sexual misconduct against him. 20 women came forward with their stories and as a result, the final episode of Viewpoint was pulled from broadcast (but still released on Blu-ray and DVD) and Bulletproof was cancelled before filming on the fourth series would begin.

In May, video emerged of Clarke at Chicago TARDIS in 2014 talking about how John Barrowman would expose his genitals and slap it on people and things. This led to allegations about Barrowman surfacing, resulting in him apologising for his actions even though he had already been reprimanded for them over a decade ago and apologised in November 2008. Despite this, his contribution to the immersive theatrical event Doctor Who: Time Fracture was pulled and Big Finish have decided to shelf the release of Torchwood: Absent Friends, which would have featured David Tennant as the Tenth Doctor.

Now, I don’t care about Noel Clarke by any means, but this situation is honestly sad for John Barrowman because it shows that cancel culture spares no victims and leaves no fossil undiscovered. These PR stunts have clearly shown that the spineless people involved with those productions are so concerned with saving face that they are unable to just overlook these transgressions for the sake of fans who actually wanted to see him reprise his role as Captain Jack Harkness. But hey, what do I know? I don’t really care for anything other than the TV series, but it really shows how shameless corporations can be.

Once again, we don’t exactly know when Doctor Who Series 13 will premiere, but if you ask me, I predict that it will premiere in October or November. I’ll see you all again around that time.

#doctor who #thirteenth doctor #thirteenth doctor review

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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Street Fighter vs. Mortal Kombat: The Many Ways the Crossover Almost Happened

https://ift.tt/38sRB2j

Street Fighter II: The World Warrior, the game that really kickstarted the fighting game genre, has turned 30 this year. To celebrate, Ryu and Chun-Li are appearing in Fortnite. It’s par for the course for Ryu, who has been in so many crossovers to fight everyone from everywhere. Ryu has crossed over with the cast of Tekken, the guys from King of Fighters, the Marvel superheroes, just about everyone under the Nintendo banner, GI Joe, Power Rangers, and even Family Guy for some odd reason. Ryu and Street Fighter have crossed over with nearly everyone.

Yet for some reason, the number one dream fighting game match-up has never happened. Yes, we’re talking about Street Fighter vs. Mortal Kombat. These two giants of the fighting game industry have never exchanged blows despite being household names from the very beginning of the fighting game boom of the early 1990s.

That doesn’t mean there haven’t been some close calls or that they haven’t brushed shoulders in the past…

The Beginning of the Rivalry

The first iteration of Street Fighter II came out in February 1991. This was the sequel that made good on the promise of the 1987 original, which had great ideas that it couldn’t really execute. It would be bold to say that Street Fighter II perfected the formula, but it was such an improvement that it’s still incredibly playable to this day. It was a lucky break for Capcom, who would go on to milk the game’s success with several new editions of the title, from 1992’s Champion Edition all the way to 2017’s Ultra Street Fighter II: Final Challengers for the Nintendo Switch.

If you’re a fighting game aficionado, you know the history. The success of Street Fighter II sparked a boom for the fighting game genre. In Japan, SNK released Fatal Fury and Art of Fighting right on the heels of Capcom’s hit, while Alpha Denshi gave us World Heroes in ’92. Meanwhile, in America, Midway Games was planning its own Street Fighter II competitor, which was originally meant to be a tie-in game for the movie Universal Soldier starring Jean-Claude Van Damme. When that project fell through, Midway turned to the much gorier Mortal Kombat, a fighting game that digitized actors instead of sprites, an innovative approach to animation at the time.

Released on October 1992, Mortal Kombat was a major hit, and Midway quickly put out a sequel, Mortal Kombat II, six months later in April 1993. The third game would be out two years later. Mortal Kombat was speeding through its early days with cabinet after cabinet, while Capcom was focused on re-releasing newer versions of Street Fighter II. After making bosses playable, adding new characters, and tossing in other bells and whistles over the course of various upgrades, the studio concluded the game’s original run with 1994’s Super Street Fighter II: Turbo.

That meant that at a time when the internet was in its infancy, these two popular franchises were mainstays of print gaming magazines. Announcements, previews, reviews, secrets, tips, and so on. If your early ’90s magazine didn’t have at least a page dedicated to Street Fighter and/or Mortal Kombat, then get your eyes checked because you weren’t looking hard enough.

In 1992, Electronic Gaming Monthly famously pulled an April Fool’s Day gag on readers where they took the Street Fighter II mistranslation, “You must defeat Sheng Long to stand a chance,” and insisted it was a reference to a secret boss fight that involved working your ass off in the game in a way that was outright impossible, making your way through the game as Ryu without taking a single hit until your battle with M. Bison (and that was the “easy” part). The joke led to many stressful nights for gamers, who were finally told the truth about the hoax the following December.

But Midway took the idea of a secret boss more literally. Using the Sub-Zero/Scorpion ninja sprites, Midway introduced a green-clad fighter named Reptile, a seriously difficult opponent that you could only fight in arcade mode under some seriously ridiculous circumstances. Reptile was added in the 3.0 version of Mortal Kombat, making him the first secret boss in the genre’s history.

Capcom would eventually catch up with Akuma, a character extremely similar EGM‘s design for Sheng Long, in Super Street Fighter II: Turbo. By then, Midway had thrown in three more secret boss fights for Mortal Kombat II, and even SNK had already introduced Ryo Sakazaki as a secret final boss in Fatal Fury Special.

Brushing Shoulders

The Mortal Kombat series really thrived as a gorier and campier alternative to Street Fighter II‘s more fundamental approach to the genre, but that didn’t stop Midway from taking a couple of jabs at Capcom. In-game, secret characters would occasionally pop up before rounds and say something cryptic for the sake of helping the players figure out how to unlock their fight, a nod to the Sheng Long joke. But there were more direct pokes at the competition. For instance, Jade would occasionally appear for the sake of asking, “CHUN WHO?” and vanishing. Midway also included “RYU” as default initials on Mortal Kombat II‘s high score board. Cute.

Meanwhile, Capcom stoked the fire with a commercial for Street Fighter II: Champion Edition for Sega Genesis. It featured a security guard at a toy store coming across a box for the game. Blanka’s arm would thenreach out and grab the nearby box for Mortal Kombat and crush it into smoldering trash.

But it wasn’t all jabs. The two companies crossed paths in other interesting ways. In 1993, Malibu Comics published a Street Fighter II series for only three issues before having to drop it because Capcom was unhappy with Ken Masters’ grisly fate in the story. Around the same time, Malibu also launched a Mortal Kombat series, and the publisher would actually batch issues of both series together and send them to vendors.

Games

The Strange History of Street Fighter Comics

By Gavin Jasper

Games

The History of Mortal Kombat Comics

By Gavin Jasper

Hasbro double-dipped when it came to action figures too, releasing sets for both Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat, complete with weapons and special vehicles. But while Street Fighter characters were treated like part of the GI Joe line, and were even featured in commercials where they all hang out and beat the crap out of Duke, Mortal Kombat was kept separate from Hasbro’s most popular figures.

Nintendo also used both franchises as major selling points for the Super Nintendo Entertainment System. The SNES ports for Super Street Fighter II and Mortal Kombat II both played big parts in Nintendo’s Play It Loud ad campaign. One such commercial even had a guy getting a massive Street Fighter vs. Mortal Kombat tattoo on his torso.

But the closest thing we’ve ever gotten to a real crossover between the two games was through their Saturday morning cartoons. Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat: Defenders of the Realm were both released as animated follow-ups to their live-action movies, although they were directly inspired by the games themselves. On Nov. 16, 1996, both series, as well as Savage Dragon and Wing Commander Academy, took part in a long-forgotten crossover event based around a hero named the Warrior King and his search through the multiverse for a special orb that controls the weather.

The Warrior King played a major role in his Street Fighter episode as the romantic interest of Chun-Li, while in Mortal Kombat, he merely made a quick cameo as a shadowy figure running through a portal. Regardless, both stories involved the villains (M. Bison and Shang Tsung) wielding the same mystical orb.

No, the crossover ain’t much, but that’s still more than what we got in Wreck-It Ralph. Although the Disney movie featured M. Bison, Zangief, Ryu, Ken, Chun-Li, and Cammy, it didn’t bring in any official Mortal Kombat characters to face them. Instead, the movie included “Cyborg,” a blatant Kano knockoff with the same cybernetic eye, goatee, and zest for heart-ripping. Why didn’t Disney just use Kano? Probably because he’s a Warner Bros. property. Still, missed opportunity.

Copying Test Answers

The video game adaptation of Street Fighter: The Movie will always be a fascinating novelty. Released in 1995 in arcades, the game not only copied Mortal Kombat’s digitized actors but it actually featured Jean-Claude Van Damme, the actor Midway had been unable to secure for its own Universal Soldier tie-in years earlier.

Interestingly, whenever Capcom sets out to make a totally new Street Fighter game, the studio usually chooses to go in a new art direction. Street Fighter V is the exception, although Capcom did initially start with a more photorealistic art style before nixing it and going with “Street Fighter IV but extra.” So, when Capcom tapped Incredible Technologies to put together the video game version of Street Fighter: The Movie in 1995, it was at a time when the publisher was also considering using the digitized Mortal Kombat style for Street Fighter III. Thankfully, Capcom decided not to go in this direction.

Midway hilariously dipped its toe in Capcom’s waters a bit more blatantly in 2004. Mortal Kombat: Deception introduced a fighter named Kobra who was supposed to be the latest human POV character, only evil. But Midway initially named him “Ken Masters” due to his physical similarities to the Street Fighter character. The studio included “Ken” in a beta version of the game provided to the press, with the express direction NOT to mention the character.

Guess what happened next. A German publication posted the images of “Ken Masters” anyway, suggesting Mortal Kombat vs. Street Fighter was finally happening. Sadly, no, this was not a teaser for the long-awaited video game crossover. It seemes Midway just hadn’t come up with a proper name for “Ken Masters” yet.

Capcom did throw in a cute reference to Mortal Kombat in Marvel vs. Capcom 3. The game featured Nathan Spencer, the Bionic Commando, whose cybernetic arm could shoot out like a grappling hook and grab opponents from far away. When doing that to yoink an enemy towards him for a haymaker to the face, he’d quote Scorpion’s famous “GET OVER HERE!” Nice.

Not the Right Fit

Mortal Kombat co-creator Ed Boon admitted in 2008 that he’d tried to make Mortal Kombat vs. Street Fighter happen at one point but Capcom wasn’t interested.

“I’ve always wanted to cross MK over since about MK4, or something like that. I’m a big fan of all of the other fighting games, Street Fighter, Tekken. I always thought, wouldn’t it be cool to have MK vs. SF and MK vs. Tekken? We pursued some of those ideas to the extent we could but we always ran into some kind of road block and couldn’t do it.”

A full-on roster vs. roster situation was out back in the ’90s, but these days, guest characters are a normal part of fighting games. Tekken 7 alone includes representatives from Street Fighter, Fatal Fury, Final Fantasy, and The Walking Dead. Mortal Kombat and Injustice have gone all over the map with their DLC choices, including slasher villains, ’80s action heroes, Spawn, Hellboy, and even the Ninja Turtles. When a fighting game announces a new season of DLC, you usually know to expect at least one crossover character to be included in the package.

For 2019’s Mortal Kombat 11, Boon reached out to Capcom once again. Wouldn’t it be neat if a Street Fighter character got in on all the gritty time-traveling action? While we don’t know which character Boon was interested in using, many fans theorize Akuma would have been the perfect fit. But Capcom said no.

Here’s what former Street Fighter producer Yoshinori Ono had to say about it:

“It’s true that a proposal for a Street Fighter character in Mortal Kombat was rejected by Capcom, but it wasn’t me personally! There were many people at the company that felt that it wasn’t a good fit for our characters. I actually met Ed at the Brazil game show and spoke to him personally about it. So it’s true – but I didn’t make the decision!”

So why didn’t it happen? Probably because Mortal Kombat 11 is banned in Japan due to all the gore and extreme violence.

“I understand why people want it,” Ono said at the time, “but it’s easier said than done. Having Chun-Li getting her spine ripped out, or Ryu’s head bouncing off the floor…it doesn’t necessarily match.”

Maybe one day. For now, we’re left waiting for Ryu to finally get over here.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Special thanks to tabmok99 for helping with this article. You can check out his Mortal Kombat know-it-all YouTube channel here.

The post Street Fighter vs. Mortal Kombat: The Many Ways the Crossover Almost Happened appeared first on Den of Geek.

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marshmallow-phd · 5 years

Text

Open Wounds

Genre: Boxing!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

Summary: You practically lived at the fighter gym, taking your anger and frustration out on the punching bags as a form of personal torture. Because you also hated that place for taking away the person you loved most. But when a new trainee shows up, showing that he’s different from the boxers you’ve met in the past, your wall begins to crumble. But is history doomed to repeat itself?

Netflix Teaser

Part One I Part Two

The sound of skin hitting worn vinyl and the grunts and groans of grown men trying to beat each other up surrounded you. No matter how high you turned the volume up on your headphones, you couldn’t drown out the distractions. You hated this place. You shouldn’t be here. Over and over again, you told yourself to leave and never come back. When you were covered in sweat and your muscles were sore, crying out for relief, the first part was easy enough to do. It was that damn second step that was impossible.

“Now, what did that poor bag do to you?”

Taking one last swing at the punching bag, hard enough to put some momentum in its swing on the rusty chain, you turned around to face the only person who dared approach you while you were attacking the defenseless bag of sand and pulled out your headphones to hear better.

Han, the old man who owned the gym, smiled at you with wrinkled, sun-weathered eyes. He was still wearing those ugly Hawaiian shirts over baggy khaki shorts after all these years. But despite his appearance, he could still move around and jab like any of the middle-weight boxers around here. You’d known him for years - since you were a teenager – which meant he knew exactly what the punching bag had done to you.

Deciding you’d had enough for today, you started unstrapping the Velcro of your gloves, your hands breathing in relief at the release. “Hey, Han.”

“Tough day?” he guessed.

You sighed. “Tough week.” More like a tough life.

In all honesty, it probably wasn’t that rough. You had a roof over your head, heating in the winter, air conditioning in the summer, food, a bed, a job that you thrived in. Really there was only one dark cloud hovering in your otherwise ordinary sky. A blank spot in your life that could never be filled no matter where you searched for a substitute.

“I’m sure things will get better,” Han said encouragingly. “They always do.”

“No, they don’t.” There were too many examples in the history of the world to list of where things did not eventually get better.

Han huffed at you. “If you keep that up, I’ll ban you from my gym.”

You smirked. “You could never ban me, Han. You love me too much.”

He started to grumble out something along the lines of “watch me” but he couldn’t hold on to the façade and soon he was smiling at you. “Are you going to join us tonight for dinner? There’s a new recruit that joined a while back and you know the boys. They have to initiate. He’s very promising, could be the new lightweight champion. Reminds me of-” Han caught himself before he mentioned one of his old students. The one that brought you pain, the one that brought you here over and over again, never letting you go. Coughing to cover his slipup, he went on, “Well, anyway, I’m sure the boys would love it if you tagged along.”

“No, I think I’ll skip on it,” you said non-too-surprisingly. You never joined in, but that didn’t stop Han form offering, hoping one day you would change your mind, like how you used to. “Thank you, though. I’ll see you around.”

Han nodded, understanding completely. You kissed the old man on the cheek before gathering up your things and heading for the showers.

Once cleaned and refreshed, you weaved through the boxers and MMA fighters training for their next big fight before making it to the front entrance. As you pushed on the door to exit, someone called out for you.

“Hey, wait!”

Rolling your eyes, you turned around to what this person wanted. Most of the boys here knew to leave you alone. Only the ones who’d known you for years would stop and talk to you, but they knew better than to try to chat when you were trying to leave.

The man didn’t seem familiar at all as he jogged up to you, careful to avoid a weight that had rolled into his path.

“What?” you snapped. You’d been here too long and you needed to get out, not be chatted up by some brave newcomer who thought it’d be fun to hit on the only female within this testosterone factory.

The man bowed his head sheepishly, his cheeks taking on the slight hue of pink. In his outstretched hand was a worn red glove that had certainly seen better days. You snatched the glove out of his hand, not out of maliciousness, but out of a rush of relief. If you’d lost that glove….

“Thank you,” you said gratefully as you secured the glove back into its normal pocket. “Sorry about… being rude.”

He smiled at you. “It’s okay. Although, I thought exercising was supposed to make people happier?”

“Depends on the environment,” you countered. That was probably a lie. The chance of your body deciding on how much endorphins to release based on where you were exercising seemed slim. But maybe you would be a bit more cheerful if you worked out at one of the bigger chain gyms than this small training facility.

“Understandable,” he nodded, thinking that you were making a joke, based on the smile he was giving you. He held out his hand, “I’m Yixing, by the way.”

You looked down at his hand for a few seconds, not sure of what to do. Yes, you knew the social norm was to take his hand and introduce yourself as well, but you tried to avoid any interactions with the boxers that you weren’t already friends with before….

Sighing, you stuffed your hand in your pocket. “Nice to meet you, Yixing.”

And that was it. No handshake, no giving of your own name. You simply turned on your heels and left the gym, not looking back as you reached your bike, throwing one leg over the seat and slamming your helmet on before taking off down the road, putting as much distance between you and the gym as possible.

Yixing stood there, dumbfounded. Had he done or said something wrong?

“Don’t take that too much to heart,” Han sighed as he came up and clapped Yixing on the shoulder from behind. “Poor thing had it rough a few years back. Put a wall up after that. (y/n) only tolerates a few of the guys here and that’s more out of respect since she’s known them for so long.”

Yixing frowned, watching as you peeled out of the parking lot on an old motorcycle. “Did something bad happen to her?”

The distrust and the avoidance of physical contact coupled with her working out in a gym designed for fight training… the picture made Yixing’s stomach churn.

Han seemed to know where his thoughts were headed. “No, nothing like that. She just lost someone close to her.”

A strange relief washed over Yixing before the guilt set in. You’d still lost someone you cared about. How close the two of you must have been….

“Come on,” Han ordered as he slapped Yixing’s shoulder again. “You’ve got more jabs to throw before you can leave. Also, it’s your turn to clean the mats.”

Yixing cringed, but laughed nonetheless. “It’s always my turn to clean the mats.”

“That’s what you get for being the newbie, kid.”

Yixing shook his head. He knew all this work would pay off in the end. Every fighter had to pay their dues before stepping into the ring. And someday, he’d be the king.

You clutched the stencil steady as you carefully drew the brush over the slick surface of the gas tank. No air escaped your lungs while you kept yourself still, afraid that even the slightest breath could knock everything off course. The line needed to be perfect or else you’d have to start all over. And get lectured for wasting expensive paint.

As soon as the line was completed, you refilled your lungs with fresh air, sitting up and loosening up your shoulders.

“Nice work, kid,” Don commented as he inspected the paint job over your shoulder. “Line work’s getting better.”

“Thanks,” you smirked proudly. These days, it was the only thing that made you really happy. Putting a brush in your hand and letting the image in your head come to light on the polished metal for the world to see was the best job you could have ever asked for.

You weren’t sure exactly how you ended up in the garage. Art had always been a major part of your life and identity, with faint dreams of entering the institute for your degree. Your brother swore up and down that your works would be displayed in museums one day. Back then you’d laughed at him, called him crazy. And maybe he was.

Even now you still loved to paint and draw on canvas, creating your own worlds with a few simple ingredients. But those works stayed in your apartment, away from the public eye. The images you made on motorcycles and car hoods were the only ones allowed to be seen. You were more comfortable that way. This world of gears and grease was one you knew all too well, even if working here hadn’t been the plan. Being here made a little more sense than being the dressed up featured artist being adored by patrons with large checkbooks, anyway.

Well, the checkbook part sounded nice.

“I think I’m going to finish this one and head home,” you told Don. It was getting late and your hand was beginning to cramp.

“Sounds good,” Don nodded. “And you’re coming in late tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’m going to hit the gym first,” you said, turning around on your stool. You had skipped out on your personal torture yesterday and today, so it was time for a recharge. Plus, tomorrow was Han’s birthday. If you didn’t at least stop by and see him, you’d never hear the end of it.

“Alright, sounds good. Have a goodnight.”

You waved to Don as he walked away. “Good night.”

When you were alone again, you stretched out your hand and got back to the next set of lines to finish out the tank in peace.

The next morning you went about your normal routine, fixing that too-sugary cup of coffee and yanking on paint splattered clothes before throwing your gym back over your shoulder and heading out the door.

At the gym, Han was already there in his usual spot by the main ring a few hours early, leaning on the ropes from the floor while yelling out punches and jabs at the trainee who was up on the platform working with Jack. You didn’t want to be, but you were actually impressed by the speed of the trainee’s hands. They were nothing but blurs, following Han’s barking orders without hesitation. Mesmerized, you stood a little ways away, arms crossed over your chest as you watched the session.

Han noticed you after a few minutes and brought the training to a halt. “Alright, get some water you two. We’ll pick it back up in fifteen minutes or so.”

The trainee took off his protective gear, revealing his identity to be Yixing from the other day. He must be the one Han was gushing about. His next golden boy.

Pulling a thin rectangular present from your bag, you held it out to Han as you approached him. “Happy birthday, big guy.”

Han smiled broadly as he took the gift. “(y/n), if this is what I think it is, you’re going to make an old man cry.”

“That’s my goal in life,” you teased. To your relief, he didn’t open it right away. You hadn’t expected an audience to be around when you gave the present over. Things like this you preferred to be kept private. Usually, Han spent his mornings watching old fight reels, studying the different methods or just reliving his old glory days in the ring. If he was skipping out on that tradition to train this guy… he must really be something.

“So, how are you doing lately?” Han asked.

You shrugged. “I’m fine. Things are going good at shop. I’ve got a lot of projects going so there’s plenty to keep me occupied.”

“Good, good,” he nodded. “Are you still making time for your own work, though?”

You scoffed, pointing to the gift. “What do you think that is?”

“I know what it is,” Han grumbled. “But you also know what I mean. Your own work deserves attention, too.”

“Look, between here and the shop, home is where my hands get a rest.”

Han raised an eyebrow, no hint of playfulness in his eyes. “Then maybe I should ban you from my gym.”

Your jaw dropped. “Han, are you serious-”

“Is everything okay?”

You sent a death glare towards Yixing that he probably didn’t deserve. It was just instinct. Your connection was being threatened and that put you on edge.

“Everything’s fine,” Han chuckled, showing you that he wasn’t serious after all. You relaxed a bit, but now you really needed to hit something.

“I’m going to go change,” you mumbled. Swiping you gym bag back up from the floor, you headed for the locker room.

When you came back, Han and Jack were gone. The former had most likely retreated to his office to hide from your wrath. Jack probably had some errands to run during his short break and Yixing didn’t seem to be sticking around, leaving the gym mostly empty for you to go about your business. As you wrapped up your hands, however, you learned that you weren’t completely alone after all.

“Need a sparring partner?” Yixing offered, wiggling the punching pads at you when you looked up from your seat on the bench.

You shook your head. “I kind of want to be the one throwing the punches right now.” You weren’t here to just be his target.

“That’s what I meant,” he chuckled. He slipped the sparring equipment over his hands and walked back up to the ring, easily stepping up and through the ropes before stopping in the middle of the platform.

Fine. He wanted to be the punching bag, let him.

Sighing, you stood up to your feet and headed on over, ready for him.

“I won’t go easy on you,” he warned.

“If you did, I’d have to kick your butt,” you taunted. The giggle he let out took you off guard. Then the smile slipped away to make room for a hardened glare and he started barking orders at you in a tone that rivaled Han’s.

“Cross! Jab! Hook!”

Over and over again, he shouted out combinations almost too fast for you to keep up. Every few punches, he’d swing out on his own, making you duck. It didn’t take long for you to be covered in a sheet of sweat, breaths coming out short and raggedy as you fought to keep going. Too soon, though, your arms grew weak. You threw in a few more punches before stepping back, giving in.

“You’re good,” Yixing complimented. He unstrapped the gloves from his hands, tossing them down on the canvas out of the way. “Do you want to get something to eat?”

Well, that didn’t take long. You rolled your eyes. “Just because I work out at this gym doesn’t mean I want to date a boxer, okay?”

Yixing knitted his eyebrows, confused. “I wasn’t asking for a date. I’m hungry and I don’t like eating alone.”

That made you stop and reconsider. Because even though you did it every day, you, too, hated eating alone. It was too quiet. It gave you too much time in your head.

“Okay, then,” you nodded. “I’m going to go change real quick.”

“I’ll meet you at the door.”

You threw him a lazy thumbs up before jogging out of there. Even though your morning workout was cut short, you were slightly thankful for the change up in your routine. Besides, he seemed nice and – boxer or not – you could use a new friend.

Part of you worried if you were being more open to him because he reminded you of- no. They were very different. He didn’t giggle, among other things.

You didn’t bother to shower since you weren’t trying to impress anyone, just slipping back into your knotted up t-shirt and jeans before throwing your bomber on and heading out of the locker room.

Yixing was already at the front door, awaiting patiently for you. He’d somehow managed to change faster than you, now sporting skinny jeans and a matching black shirt. For a very, very brief moment, it’d thrown you off guard. You’d grown used to ignoring anyone in athletic gear, immune to what it was supposed to be showing off. But seeing the new fighter in streetwear was making your head spin. The hardened concentrated look was long gone, softening his features to be more open and inviting. Before you could fight it, the corners of your lips were turning up.

“Ready?” he asked. You nodded and followed him out the front door and to his car.

It was a short drive to the little breakfast dinner, only a few blocks away but you’d never noticed it before. Yixing seemed to be a frequent visitor given the friendly waves from both the wait staff and the cooks visible through the kitchen window.

The first few minutes were spent in silence while the two of you mulled over the menus provided at the table. After the waitress took your orders, you played with the pink sugar packet, flipping it back and forth to occupy your attention. You hadn’t been in a situation like this for a long time so you weren’t sure how to proceed.

“Have you been going to the gym for a long time?” Yixing asked, breaking the silence.

You nodded. “Yeah, since I was a teenager.”

“But you don’t train to fight?” he guessed.

“No, I don’t,” you half laughed. “Fighting was never my thing. That was-” you caught yourself just in time. “No, I would just go to hang out with friends who were more into the boxing thing. I liked the workout better than others, so it just stuck.”

“And you know Han pretty well.”

You snorted. That crazy old man had been a huge part of your life. He was there for you when you were alone and basically gave you a second home to run to. But you didn’t need to voice that out loud. “Yeah. He has a soft spot for me, I guess.”

Yixing smiled crookedly, revealing a dimple in his cheek that just softened his features even more. “He doesn’t seem to hand those out very easily.”

“No, it takes a lot of buttering up,” you agreed. “If you’re training under him and he sees potential in you, you’ll never get that treatment.”

“You seem to speak from experience,” he pointed out.

The waitress arrived then with the large plates of food. You immediately dug in, much hungrier than you realized. Plus, it gave you an excuse not to continue the conversation. The hot-off-the-grill meat tasted savory in your mouth and for a few minutes, you forgot that you were sitting across from someone.

“So, what do you do for a living if you’re not a boxer?” Yixing asked suddenly.

You swallowed the food in your mouth and washed it down with a few sips of water before replying, “I work in a customs shop. I do the detail painting and sketch ups.”

“So you’re an artist?” he dug, excitement flashing in his eyes.

“Uh, yeah, kind of.” Shyness, while not a typical character trait of yours, was making you shrink over your food. Being called an “artist” was making you feel awkward.

Putting his fork down, Yixing folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. “Did you do the work on your motorcycle?”

“Yeah, I did.” Your cheeks were heating up. What was going on? You never reacted like this.

“The line work is really incredible.” Sincerity – not flattery – was more than apparent in his tone. “I noticed it a few times while coming in, but I could never figure out who it belonged to until I saw you drive away on it a few days ago. You have real talent.”

Now you couldn’t even lift your own fork. “Thank you.”

“Did you paint something for Han?”

You cleared your throat, unsure of how to answer. A reply of simply “yes” should have been easy enough. But once buried memories bombarded your inner thoughts.

You’re amazing and someday they’ll put you in the Louvre.

I wish you would stop lying like that.

I’m not! You’ll be this world famous artist and I’ll be the Lightweight Champion across the globe. You can’t paint everywhere I go to fight. We’ll be the greatest team the world has ever seen.

Sure. If that happens, then I’ll paint myself green and dance in the gym.

Deal.

“(y/n)?”

You jumped, pulled from the fuzzy memory. “Sorry?”

“Is everything okay?” Yixing’s face was pinched with worry. Somehow you’d even missed the waitress dropping off the check. He was already signing off the receipt and putting his card away.

“Peachy,” you nodded. Changing the subject, you frowned, “You didn’t have to pay for my meal.”

He waved your protest away. “It’s not a problem. Maybe you can get the next one?”

You knew what he was doing, opening up the conversation of another meal together without outright asking. This wasn’t a date, he said it himself, but it appeared he might want to change that in the near future. And honestly, you weren’t as against it as you thought you might be. Even though he was bring up memories you’d locked away, you found his presence… soothing the hurt rather than multiplying it.

“Sure,” you smiled. “I’ll get the next one.”

Now he was the shy one as he ducked his head. “Good.” Composing himself once again, he stood up. “Let’s go. I have to get back to the gym or else Han will have me on double cleaning duty.”

“That would terrible,” you agreed with a laugh. You weren’t sure the last time you felt this relaxed with a person, this open. It was a scary feeling, but one you were more than willing to further explore.

Yxing watched you speed away on your bike, a smile stretch widely across his lips. You’d promised to have dinner with in a few days and he was on cloud nine. This time, he was able to declare it officially a date before you headed off to work.

Each step he took to head back inside the gym was light and cheery, practically skipping as he headed for Han’s office.

“I’m back,” Yixing announced as he stuck his head in, finding Han staring intently at the small TV he used for fight reviews.

“About time,” Han grumbled. He didn’t pause the TV or look away. “If you weren’t out with (y/n), I’d be making you do suicide runs until you threw up for skipping out on training.”

Surprised, Yixing came all the way inside the office. He’d fully expected to get the third degree, declaring to himself that the short meal with you was worth it. You’d intrigued him when he first saw you. No one was willing to explain who you were or why you came to the gym and left without interacting with anyone. Everyone else seemed to just know already, but refused to let him in on it. “Why do you say that?”

Finally pausing the TV, Han sighed. His eyes drifted over to a painting that was leaning up against the large window that gave him access to the open gym space. It was new, something Yixing hadn’t seen before. That must have been your present you’d given him earlier.

The colors were beautiful. Everything blended in with the fake light that gave it a touch of hyperrealism. A fighter’s robe made of shiny green silk laid across a short wooden stool in the corner of a boxing ring. With the folds of the robe, he couldn’t make out the name embroidered on the back, just bits and pieces of the silver letters.

“She’s a good kid,” Han sighed again. “Watched her grow up within these walls. She painted the murals in both of the locker rooms in high school. She was happier back then, livelier. If she wasn’t here with her friends, she was at home with her dad, helping him on his side business fixing up cars, making them beautiful again. She always needed to be creating something. Then she lost that spark.”

Thinking back to the diner, Yixing could see that clearly. You were fighting to hold back something when he complimented you on your work, like you were embarrassed and didn’t want to talk about it. Then your eyes lost focus because what he could only assume was a memory coming back to the surface. Treading carefully, he asked, “What happened?”

Han pointed to the fighter on the small screen. “Him. She lost him.”

Yixing’s eyes widen. Because he knew who that was. And the more he stared at the footage flickering on the TV, the more his heart sunk. Because he knew this fight.

He was there the night that fighter died.

#exo #exo boxer au #exo boxer!au #yixing x reader #zhang yixing #lay #exo scenarios #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo series #exo imagines #exo lay

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daesungindistress · 5 years

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not sure if you've been asked this before but do you think you will return to writing fic about bb and if so, would you include sr in your stories?

The last time I was asked this was back in March or April. And it’s difficult to give a final answer. I want to return to writing. The thought of abandoning all my WIPs and notes and ideas forever is a depressing one. And if I’m being honest, the longer I go without making something, be it art or fic, the emptier I feel.

Do I think I will? Return to writing? That I’m less certain about. The events of this year have left me feeling a bit disillusioned. Disenchanted. Disappointed. Yeah, they all kinda have the same meaning, but I guess I’m just trying to convey how this thing with Seungri, this tragedy, and the ongoing struggle within the fandom seems to have slowly stripped away my ability to separate BB’s public personas (and private selves) from the fictional versions we as writers play with. It’s broken down some necessary barriers.

The situation we’re in is too serious, too real, too heavy. And in my heart I feel there’s still too much uncertainty about their future. That uncertainty is steadily chipping away at the compartmentalization that let me comfortably turn them into characters and use them to tell stories. When I sit down and stare at all these notes from a happier, easier time I no longer see what I once did. I wonder, “Who wrote this? When? And how?” There’s some guilt too. Like, who am I to toy with them like this, to reduce them to fanfic fodder when so much has gone so wrong? Some fans have successfully escaped into fiction this year to forget; for me it’s the other way around. It’s been nine months but in a way the scandal is still front and center in my mind, and fanfic can’t overpower that. If anything, I’m almost… afraid to touch it again.

For example… the one fic I finished and posted this year, Sugar Kiss, was a smutty ToDae oneshot… and, regrettably, a sequel to a DaeRi fic. It was something I started late last year and had mostly completed by January, well before the scandal reached a boiling point. All the fic needed by then was a little polish, and it took me until July to find the energy for it. The teaser/summary was “It’s Daesung’s turn to be a bad influence” because in the fic before it he and Seungri had gotten up to some ~naughty fun~ together and Daesung decided he liked it enough to pass it on. So in Sugar Kiss Daesung shares what he learned from Seungri with Seunghyun. The joke was that Seungri persuaded him into mischief. Seunghyun even has a line in which he calls Seungri “a bad influence,” which one reader got really upset over, but I didn’t mean it in a bad way when I initially wrote it earlier this year. It was meant to be tongue-in-cheek. Just some silly, sexy, lighthearted fun, nothing more. I felt a little iffy posting it on the heels of Seungri’s scandal but in the end threw caution to the wind and went ahead with it.

Then, a few days later, the news about Daesung’s building broke and suddenly people were saying, “Daesung might be in on it!” and “He’s just like Seungri!” and “Daesung said they’d become close recently!” And I was like 😰 I had a few days to feel accomplished, after that it was pure regret. It’s like nothing is safe. Things I enjoyed before without thought or care… just aren’t that fun anymore. It’s really sucked the joy out of storytelling using real people. The thought lurks: what if some of the questionable stuff I write about them turns out to be, well, real? And then I have to either denounce or defend what I’ve written. People are still leaving kudos on that fic and its prequel, and every time I get the notification I wonder what they really think of it.

Anyway, to answer your other question: even though my view of Seungri has soured significantly since spring, my feelings on the matter of his involvement in my future fanfics, if any, have remained… largely the same. I think. The last time I talked about this I said I might continue to include him, but clarified that it would depend on the timeline (pre/post 2019) and setting (canon compliant, alternate universe). And also what role needs filling. Even after all we’ve learned about him, Seungri is still an interesting character to me with traits that I consider useful for the types of stories I like to tell. He’s a good foil for Daesung due to their opposing personalities, interests, lifestyles, values…. and for this reason I’ve always had a tendency to depict him as someone who brought conflict to the group in some form or another. His fans who found their way to my fanfics sometimes asked me to be kinder to him. Let’s just say now there will be no more pressure to pull my punches. That said, I expect any parts he does have will be small and fairly insignificant. A line or two, maybe even just a mention. My goal isn’t to pretend he never existed, just to avoid giving him undue attention that might, y’know… encourage people to like him.

…there is, however, one possible exception to that. Carnivores. Don’t think I’ve touched on this here yet? I had tentative plans to continue that series one day. Yes, even though I swore it was over. The story and setting is still meaningful to me and those characters feel more divorced from their inspirations, the Big Bang members, than any of my others. “They have lives of their own,” a reader once said to me, and I have to agree. You could change their names and I would still recognize them. I hoped it would be nothing too serious this time, nothing too intricate, just a oneshot catching up with the pack in their new home a year or two down the road. Here’s the problem though: Seungri was finally going to get something he’d always wanted. Something hinted at in the final scenes of Innocence & Instinct. And I wanted to scratch the surface of how they dealt with that.

Too bad 2019 has all but blown those plans to pieces. Carnivores!Seungri is not Big Bang’s Seungri or Lee Seunghyun, he is just a fictional character bearing his name and likeness, but even so, the absolute last thing I want to do right now is give him something he’s always wanted. No matter how I look at it, the thought of writing him into an important role comes off as really distasteful to me right now. So if that’s ever going to materialize, yeah, it’s gonna be awhile.

But wait. What if I give him something he’s always wanted… and then take it away. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? It came to me one day months ago, how I could work the events of this year into the series. Some parts of Carnivores do mirror real life events involving BB (such as Jiyong, Youngbae, Seunghyun, and Daesung confronting Seungri in Dreams Like Ashes over fears that he’s going to leave them for his newly formed group of human friends. Though I sort of glossed over it, this was based on things they were saying about him back in 2016, which was when that fic was written). So working his recent rise and fall into a future installment wouldn’t exactly be a new approach for this series. You could even say I’m a little intrigued by the idea.

Still, it’s too soon. Too fresh. And I don’t know how it ends, in this world or that one, or if I even have the creative energy to tackle something so… disruptive. Reality is hard enough. So until then, those plans will stay right where they’ve been all this time, boxed up in a dusty corner of my mind. I hope that one day I can reach back inside that box and share what I find with you all. Until then, I think what I need is a clearer sense of direction from BB… and more time to work up the courage to try.

#sorry this got long and rambling #I don't get to talk about my fanfic much #though I've been giving it a lot of thought #bigbang #fanfic #fanfiction #ask #anon #carnivores #seungri #also I haven't seen my otp together in almost 3 years so there's that too

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chicagoindiecritics · 5 years

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New from Every Movie Has a Lesson by Don Shanahan: EDITORIAL: Movies and the 9/11 effect

(Image: pathtoparadise.com)

EIGHTH EDITION: UPDATED SEPTEMBER 11, 2019– In an update to my annual editorial (after the original post on the 10th anniversary in 2011), I’ve got new movie inclusions in several sections, including the most recent section of faded and relaxed sensitivity in films. I plan to make this an annual post and study for at least until the 20th anniversary in 2021. (All poster images are courtesy of IMPAwards.com)

Never forget. There’s no doubt that every American over the age of 25 won’t soon forget where they were 18 years ago at 8:46AM on September 11, 2001. The world and our American lifestyle changed forever that day in more ways that we can measure. I know movies and cinema are trivial pieces of entertainment compared to the more important things in life, but movies have always been two-hour vacations and therapy sessions from life, even in the face of immense tragedy. Sometimes, we need movies to inspire us and help us remember the good in things, while still being entertained. In seventeen years, they too have changed.

I’m here for an editorial research piece on the anniversary of 9/11 to showcase a few movies, both serious and not-so-serious, that speak to that day whether as a tribute, remembrance, or example of how life has changed since that fateful day. Enjoy!

MOVIES THAT WERE OPENING THAT FRIDAY EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO

Call this a time capsule, but these were the notable movies that opened Friday, September 7, 2001 and Friday, September 14, 2001, the two Fridays surrounding 9/11. Such a different time, huh? Needless to say, few people were in the mood for a movie in those first weeks and the fall 2001 box office took quite a hit until the Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone showed up in November 2001, followed by Ocean’s Eleven and The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring that December.

The Musketeer (September 7th)

Soul Survivors (September 7th)

Rock Star (September 7th)

Hardball (September 14th)

The Glass House (September 14th)

All were box office bombs at the time. The Musketeer garnered a good bit of overseas earnings and Hardball got some of the best reviews of Keanu Reeves’s post-Matrix career and grew to be a DVD hit. Still, talk about bad timing.

EXAMPLES OF 2001-2002 MOVIES CHANGED BECAUSE OF 9/11

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Spider-Man— Many of you may remember seeing this teaser for the big comic book blockbuster before it was pulled post-9/11. (New remastered video in 2019)

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Donnie Darko— Suggested by Feelin’ Film Facebook Discussion Group contributor Josh Powers. Released months before 9/11, few remember how much this film was somewhat buried and forced to become an underground cult favorite due to a pivotal moment involving a horrific plane crash.

Lilo and Stitch— See a side-by-side video clip of differences in Imgur. The trivia notes behind it are explained on IMDb.

Collateral Damage— The Arnold Schwarzenegger terrorism movie had its release date bumped and terrorist overtones mellowed down. (trailer)

City by the Sea— The production on this Robert DeNiro/James Franco thriller was moved from New York to Los Angeles in July 2001, dodging the terrorism attacks that would have threatened their home Tribeca studios. (trailer)

Sidewalks of New York–– Edward Burns intermingled love story movie was bumped to November and had to have its posters changed. See right here on the left for an example. (trailer)

Men in Black II— The original scripted ending of the movie was scripted to have the World Trade Center towers open up to release a barrage of UFOs. (trailer)

Serendipity and Zoolander— Both movies had shots of the WTC digitally removed from the skylines of their finished films before they hit theaters that fall.

The Time Machine— Had its December 2001 release bumped to March because of a potentially sensitive scene of meteor shower over New York (which it cut). (trailer)

Big Trouble— It too had its nuclear bomb-centered plot cause a release delay well into 2002. The delay didn’t help this already awful movie. (trailer)

MOVIES ABOUT 9/11 ITSELF

September 11 (2002)– International directors from around the world, including Ken Loach, Mira Nair, and future Oscar winner Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu, made a two-hour anthology of short films showing creative expressions of other cultures and their reactions to the tragedy.

United 93 (2006)– Bourne Supremacy and Bourne Ultimatum director Paul Greengrass took an unknown cast and directed a harrowing real-time account of the flight that fought back. Hard to watch, but undeniably powerful without exploiting the tragedy. (trailer)

World Trade Center (2006)– Conspiracy specialist Oliver Stone turns off the urge to dig into his usual musings and delivers an incredibly humble, respectful, and understated (words that hardly ever describe an Oliver Stone movie) true story of the last two men (Nicolas Cage and Michael Pena) rescued alive at Ground Zero. Worth every moment to see and a great tribute to the first responders and their families. (trailer)

9/11 (2017)– I think we all knew a day would come where some hack film was going to come around and exploit the tragedy that is the 2001 terrorist attacks. That award goes to Charlie Sheen, Whoopi Goldberg, and director Martin Guigui’s straight-to-VOD trash heap. Sheen, a noted conspiracy theorist on 9/11, took it upon himself to make a glamour project stepping on history. Do not waste your time with this film.

MOVIES WITH PROMINENT 9/11 CONNECTIONS

The Guys (2002)– One of the first reactionary films to 9/11 came from Focus Features in 2002 and starred Anthony LaPaglia and Sigourney Weaver. Based on Anne Nelson’s heartfelt play, LaPaglia plays a fire captain who lost eight men on 9/11 and Weaver plays the editor who helps him write eulogies for the fallen. The film is only available on disc from Amazon. (trailer)

WTC View (2005)– Gallows humor bubbles to the surface in this off-kilter indie romance from Brian Sloan about a SoHo man who placed an ad to find a new roommate and September 10th and now lives through a more difficult and trying landscape. (trailer)

Reign Over Me (2007)– In a rare dramatic turn, Adam Sandler plays a fictional wayward man who lost his wife and daughters on 9/11 and tailspins through life fiver years later when an old college friend (Don Cheadle) tries to help keep him from being committed to a psychiatric care. (trailer)

Remember Me (2010)– Billed as a coming-of-age film starring Twilight star Robert Pattinson, it features a fictitious family affected by the tragedy, including the fall of the WTC. Most critics found the 9/11 connections exploitative and offensive. (trailer)

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Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (2011)– Speaking of exploitative, the Tom Hanks/Sandra Bullock Oscar nominee from this past year definitely rubbed more than a few audiences the wrong way in using 9/11 as a backdrop to a fictional family tragedy. Critics (including this one) clamored that if you’re going to bring 9/11 to the big screen, use a real story. (trailer) (my full review)

September Morning (2017)– Independent writer/director Ryan Frost crafted a small drama about five college freshman staying up all night after 9/11 weighing the impact it will have on their present and future. The film won a youth jury award at the Rhode Island International Film Festival. (trailer)

MOVIES ABOUT THE WAR ON TERROR

In the decade since September 11, 2011, our largest response as a nation to the terrorism of that day has been a pair of wars overseas in the countries of Iraq and Afghanistan. The “war on terror” has quickly grown into a ripe orchard for possible movie storylines.

Home of the Brave (2006)–Rocky producer Irwin Winkler earns the credit for the first mainstream Hollywood movie depicting the Iraqi War and the initial soldiers returning home to re-acclimate to society. Starring Samuel L. Jackson, Curtis “50 Cent” Jackson, and Jessica Biel. (trailer)

The Hurt Locker (2008)– Of course, the best-of-the-best is the 2009 Best Picture winner from Kathryn Bigelow starring Jeremy Renner as a driven, yet dark Iraqi bomb specialist. Its quality needs no introduction. (trailer)

Grace is Gone (2007)– In the Audience Award winner of the 2007 Sundance Film Festival, typical gender roles are reversed when John Cusack plays a homefront father (in my opinion, the best he’s ever acted) who has to find the best way to tell his two daughters that their soldier mother was killed in Iraq. This movie is “guy-cry” level brilliant. (trailer)

Rendition (2007)– Jake Gyllenhaal, Reese Witherspoon, and Meryl Streep get together for a movie calling out the wrongs of detainment, interrogation, and torture. (trailer)

The Kingdom (2007)– Jamie Foxx, Jennifer Garner, Chris Cooper, and Jason Bateman investigate a bombing and throw down in the streets of Riyadh. (trailer)

Lions for Lambs (2007)– Robert Redford delivers a three point-of-view discourse on U.S. war affairs before home and abroad with the help of Tom Cruise and Meryl Streep. (trailer)

In the Valley of Elah (2007)– Crash director Paul Haggis leads Tommy Lee Jones (in an amazing Oscar-nominated performance) and Susan Sarandon as parents investigating with a local detective (Charlize Theron) the disappearance of their AWOL son returning home from Iraq. (trailer)

Body of Lies (2008)– Ridley Scott’s fictional take on the CIA’s involvement in preventing Jordanian terrorism starring Leonardo DiCaprio and Russell Crowe. (trailer)

Stop-Loss (2008)– Ryan Phillippe, Channing Tatum, and Joseph Gordon-Levitt play three young Texas schoolmates who are finally home from overseas but are forced back via the stop-loss clause. (trailer)

The Messenger (2009)– Woody Harrelson was nominated for an Oscar for his role as a U.S. Army Casualty Notification Team officer mentoring recent veteran (Ben Foster) on the uniquely difficult job of informing families the bad news. (trailer)

Taking Chance (2009)– Along the same bringing-bad-news-home lines is this gem of a HBO film starring Kevin Bacon (like Cusack earlier, in arguably his best performance as an actor) as a desk officer who never saw combat but takes on the duty of escorting a young fallen soldier’s body back to his old hometown. Even though this wasn’t in theaters, it is outstanding and worth your time on DVD. (trailer)

Brothers (2009)– Jake Gyllenhaal takes care of his older brother’s wife (Natalie Portman) while he (Tobey Maguire) is declared MIA in Afghanistan, from director Jim Sheridan. (trailer)

Dear John and The Lucky One (2010 and 2012)– These two adaptations of Nicholas Sparks romance novels briefly touches on the War on Terror through Channing Tatum and Zac Efron’s lead characters’ return home to romance. (trailer and trailer)

Green Zone (2010)–Director Paul Greengrass followed United 93 with his Bourne series star Matt Damon in this taut and marginally-dramatized account of the early unsuccessful searches and the possible cover-up of Baghdad’s supposed stores of weapons of mass destruction. (trailer)

Restrepo (2010)– The highly acclaimed National Geographic documentary film follows a one-year look at the real men of the platoon embattled in the deadliest fortified valley of Afghanistan. (trailer)

Act of Valor (2012)– Disney pumped up the military with this fictional anti-terrorism film using active duty Navy SEALs. Coming out after the death of Osama bin Laden, this was a welcome and well-promoted hero picture and recruitment reel. (trailer)

Zero Dark Thirty (2012)– The Hurt Locker director Kathryn Bigelow made a film about the SEAL Team 6 men and their story of taking down Osama bin Laden. The film was my #1 movie on my “10 Best” list for 2012. (trailer) (my full review)

Lone Survivor (2013)– Peter Berg (Friday Night Lights) directed an outstanding and patriotic film based on the Afghanistan saga of Marcus Luttrell starring Mark Wahlberg, Taylor Kitsch, Ben Foster, and Emile Hirsch that echoes another true-life story from the ongoing War on Terror. Very good movie! (trailer) (my full review)

A Most Wanted Man (2014)– Spy novelist John LeCarre’s multi-layered 2008 novel about the world of inter-agency espionage happening in Hamburg, Germany, the same city where the 9/11 conspirators hatched their plans, is an excellent and different post-9/11 film with an international flair and flavor. It will also be remembered as one of the last performances of Philip Seymour Hoffman, who was phenomenal in the film. (trailer) (my full review)

Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit (2014)– This modern reboot or update of the famed Tom Clancy character, now played by Chris Pine, roots his pre-spy origins in the aftermath of 9/11 and the War on Terror that followed. (trailer)

American Sniper (2014)– Clint Eastwood’s Best Picture nominee war drama about the real-life story of the late Navy SEAL Chris Kyle (played by Oscar nominee Bradley Cooper) went on to become the highest grossing film of 2014 (north of $350 million). Kyle’s journey from the heartland to the front lines was spurred by a sense of duty and patriotism that started from the attacks of 9/11. This is, by far, the most high profile movie to date to feature the War on Terror directly correlating 9/11. (trailer) (my full review)

Good Kill (2015)– On the smaller side, but just as solid with warfare and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is this under-seen film which had a limited theatrical release during the summer of 2015. Andrew Niccol (Lord of War, Gattaca, The Truman Show) shifted his focus to the War on Terror by showcasing a Las Vegas base of drone pilots dealing with the ramification of their actions and the war being waged on their screens and with their joystick controls. (trailer) (my full review)

13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi (2016)– Director Michael Bay’s slanted look at the September 11, 2012 embassy attacks that have become a political firebrand since certainly qualifies to make this list. (trailer) (my full review)

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot (2016)– Tina Fey shed her comedic image for a heavyish war drama loosely based the true story of Afghanistan/Pakistan television journalist Kim Barker. (trailer)

Snowden (2016)– Renowned politicized filmmaker Oliver Stone brought his brush of dramatic license to the story of whistleblowing former spy Edward Snowden, played by Joseph Gordon-Levitt. The paranoia of the post-9/11 digital age was the mission field for Snowden and many other young men and women who sought the security and counterterrorism industries. (trailer) (full review)

Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk (2016)– A company of soldiers who lost their commanding officer in Iraq are making a victory tour of press dates and public appearances when the reflections of the title character (newcomer Joe Alwyn) fill the day. Ang Lee’s film felt ten years too late and was not well received. (trailer) (my full review)

Thank You For Your Service (2015) and Thank You For Your Service (2017)– This popular conversation sentence was the title of two different works. In 2015, Tom Donahue’s documentary opened eyes to the shoddy mental health governance for modern veterans and made waves that changed actual policies. The 2017 feature film borrows inspiration from David Finkel’s 2013 nonfiction bestseller dealing with the PTSD topic of returning Iraqi tour soldiers adjusting to civilian life. Miles Teller is the headliner and is joined by Haley Bennett, Beulah Koale, Joe Cole, and Amy Schumer. (trailer) (trailer)

Megan Leavey (2017)– 2017 was a busy year for War on Terror-connected films with five new entries. Taglined “based on the true story about a Marine’s best friend,” Megan Leavey stars Kate Mara as the soldier leader of a bomb-searching pooch on deployment in Iraq. Touching film! (trailer)

The Wall (2017)– Nocturnal Animals Golden Globe nominee Aaron Taylor-Johnson and emerging WWE movie star John Cena play two soldiers pinned down by an Iraqi sniper in a single-setting thriller from action specialist Doug Liman (Edge of Tomorrow). (trailer)

War Machine (2017)– Enough time has passed now in 2017 where the War on Terror has reached a point of being a target of satire. Animal Kingdom and The Rover director David Michod puts a witty spin on things creating a fictionalized account of U.S. General Stanley McChrystal with Brad Pitt in the lead. Netflix is the exclusive carrier of this one. (trailer)

Last Flag Flying (2017)– The last and best of the 2017 bunch is Richard Linklater’s dramedy about three old Vietnam veterans (Steve Carell, Bryan Cranston, and Laurence Fishburne) who come together when one of their sons is killed in Iraq and coming home for burial. The excellent acting trio and Linklater’s writing (adapted from Darryl Ponicsan’s novel, a spiritual sequel to his The Last Detail) deliver touching brevity and sharp commentary on the echoes of war across generations. (trailer) (my full review)

A Private War (2018)— Documentary filmmaker Matthew Heineman made his feature film debut with a biopic on British photojournalist Marie Colvin, who made her stops through the hellfire of Iraq and Afghanistan in her storied career. Rosamund Pike was snubbed for an Oscar nomination that year. (trailer) (my full review)

Vice (2018)— Speaking of biopics, writer/director Adam McKay brought his machete for satire to the life of former Vice President Dick Cheney. The film dove deep into the manipulated machinations from Cheney that engineered the War on Terror during the Bush administration. While not as good as The Big Short, Vice did earn eight Oscar nominations (winning one for makeup), including Best Picture and Best Actor for Christian Bale in the leading role. (trailer) (my full review)

Official Secrets (2019)— When invading Iraq was on the table to push the war to the ground, the United Kingdom and Prime Minister Tony Blair were lockstep next to the U.S. on seeking United Nations approval. The true story of whistleblower Katharine Gun unearthed secrets that led to questioning the war’s legality before it even began. This is a nice step-up for Keira Knightley. (trailer) (my full review)

The Report (2019)— Not yet widely released in 2019 after huge buzz at the Sundance Film Festival, frequent Steven Soderbergh screenwriting collaborator Scott Z. Burns made his directorial debut with this searing docudrama of the use of torture by American agencies during the War on Terror. Check out the film’s trailer:

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MOVIES ABOUT THE CHANGES IN AMERICAN LIFE (BOTH SERIOUS AND NOT-SO-SERIOUS)

25th Hour (2002)– New Yorker Spike Lee was quick to not shy away from the post-9/11 pulse of New York City following Edward Norton’s character’s last night of debauchery and unfinished business before going to prison. Filled with scathing social commentary and visual reminders of 9/11 and Ground Zero, its amazing opening credits sequence alone set the tone as only Spike can. (trailer)

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Fahrenheit 9/11 (2004)– Documentary maverick Michael Moore’s slam at the handling of 9/11 and the war on terror became one of the most successful box office documentaries of all-time. (trailer)

Sorry, Haters (2005)– Robin Wright played a professional woman who receives conversation and unexpected interaction with an Arab New York cab driver in this IFC production. (foreign trailer)

An Inconvenient Truth (2006)– By contrast, in a small snippet and computer graphic on melting glaciers in this Oscar-winning documentary, Al Gore lets us know that half of Greenland or Antarctica’s melted ice would put New York, including Ground Zero, underwater within the next 50 years. (trailer)

The Terminal (2004)– Airports are now covered in bureaucratic red tape. Heaven forbids, you’re not from America. (trailer)

Anger Management (2003)– Showed us that you can get kicked off a plane now for just about anything. (trailer)

Soul Plane (2004)– Then again, come on, guys. Air travel can still be cool, even with the new security rules. (trailer)

Snakes on a Plane (2006)– OK, maybe not so much… (trailer)

Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay (2008)– You’ve got to hate racial profiling as much as you equally love a good parody. (trailer)

Iron Man (2008)– Marvel’s steely hero had his Vietnam origin story conveniently and modernly flopped for an Afghanistan-connected one. (trailer)

Bridesmaids (2011)– Now, that’s how an Air Marshall gets down! (trailer)

Source Code (2011)– Our fear of catastrophes on planes can easily be translated to trains as well. (trailer) (my full review)

The Reluctant Fundamentalist (2013)– For a serious look at the warped view of Muslim citizens post-9/11, take a look at Mira Nair’s dramatic thriller about a young Pakistani man (newcomer Riz Ahmed) who is successful on Wall Street but viewed differently through profiling after 9/11. (trailer)

The Fifth Estate (2013)– The film story of the WikiLeaks of Julian Assange carry a loose connection to the changed post-9/11 landscape of security and more. (trailer)

Boyhood (2014)– Richard Linklater’s huge biographical opus was filmed over the course of 12 years with the same cast growing up and aging to tell their family story. The film starts in 2002, where the incidents of 2001 are fresh on the minds of the characters and discussed openly during the first year sequence of the journey. Later on, political mentions of Bush, Obama, and the War on Terror make it into a reflective conversation as well. (trailer) (my full review)

Won’t You Be My Neighbor (2018)– A key moment in the extraordinary Fred Rogers documentary chronicled when a retired Rogers was brought back for a special televised message to young viewers about reacting to the 9/11 tragedy that played on-screen for so many viewers. It’s a touching historical moment. (trailer) (my full review)

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MEMORABLE PAST IMAGES OF THE WORLD TRADE CENTER IN MOVIES

Sometimes, all it takes is the camera making a fleeting, yet memorable, glance at those beautiful and now-gone skyscrapers to immediately remind us of a different time. The WTC towers have been shown in innumerable establishing shots. We’ll highlight some great ones. Beginning with the closing credits to New Yorker Martin Scorsese’s 2002 film Gangs of New York, here’s a great montage of cinematic views of the WTC from various pre-2001 movies.

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Superman (1978)– Even a passing fly-by over “Metropolis” feels different.

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Home Alone 2: Lost in New York (1992)– Tell me this clip didn’t just go from cute to eerie to sad. Wonderful then, but different now.

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Godspell (1973)— Submitted by friend-of-the-page and larger-fan-of-musicals-than-me Josh Powers, enjoy this dance number from the summery musical filmed and completed before the skyscraper’s ribbon-cutting.

King Kong (1976)– While it may not match the iconic 1933 image of the original ape towering on top of the Empire State Building, the World Trade Center plays a big role in the 1976 remake starring Jeff Bridges and Jessica Lange. (trailer)

Independence Day (1996), Deep Impact (1998), Armageddon (1998), and The Day After Tomorrow (2004)– These all constitute the prominent disaster movies that leave New York (and, in three cases, the WTC) in destructive shambles.

HONORABLE MENTIONS: Godzilla (1998), Cloverfield (2004), War of the Worlds (2005), and Watchmen (2009). Kind of not so entertaining for few seconds anymore, huh? See for yourself. Here’s a montage of NYC movie destruction:

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MOVIES THAT FEEL DIFFERENT IN THE POST-9/11 WORLD

I don’t know about you but a lot of movies just don’t resonate or feel the same as they did before September 11th. We’ve changed and the perception has changed. For some movies, their message and impact is only made stronger (in good ways and bad) since 9/11. In other cases, what was entertaining then doesn’t feel so right anymore.

Airplane! (1980)– Farce or not (and still funny to this day), we could never get away with anything that happens on an airplane from that movie now. (trailer)

Passenger 57 (1992)–Let alone this movie… (trailer)

Executive Decision (1996)– …and this movie… (trailer)

Turbulence (1997)– …and this movie… (trailer)

Pushing Tin (1999)– …and probably this movie too… (trailer)

True Lies (1994)– Slammed even then for its depiction of Arab terrorists, it likely has picked up a little more egg on its face. Adding to its burial, the movie hasn’t been released on any physical media format since 1999, which includes zero Blu-ray editions in its history (factoid from Josh Powers). Do you think 20th Century Fox wants that movie to go away or what? (trailer)

The Siege (1998)– This frightening martial law thriller with Denzel Washington, Annette Bening, and Bruce Willis makes True Lies look like G.I. Joe starring Ken from the Barbie dolls toy line. Scary and eerily prophetic in its over-the-top terrorism and bombing scenarios. (trailer)

The Dark Knight Rises (2012)– Though fictional with Pittsburgh standing in as Gotham City, the New York imagery and parallels occurring during its terrorist takeover led by Tom Hardy’s Bane have eerie 9/11-inspired ramifications. (trailer) (my full review)

Syriana (2005)– George Clooney won an Oscar, but the touchy subjects of torture, terrorism, and the oil industry evoke a little dose of fear. (trailer)

Munich (2005)– The Black September assassination of Israeli athletes at the 1972 Munich Olympics and the Mossad’s reaction was probably the last time before 9/11 that terrorism made worldwide live media headlines. (trailer)

Arlington Road (1999)– While this resonates more as a comparison to Oklahoma City-style domestic terrorism, the Jeff Bridges/Tim Robbins underappreciated thriller is no less scary now than then. (trailer)

Fight Club (1999)– Watching Tyler Durden (Brad Pitt/Edward Norton) destroy New York’s credit district is another example of domestic terrorism and destruction that rings a little louder post-9/11.

The Sum of All Fears (2002)– Many people found the Super Bowl bomb plot far too soon to see those images just a year removed from 9/11. (trailer)

V for Vendetta (2006)– Urban terrorism in London via a Guy Fawkes fan resonates a little different for a public scare on our side of the Atlantic. (trailer)

Courage Under Fire (1995)– Our first trip to Iraq foreshadows a lot of the equal futility, bravery, and loss experienced in our second trip… (trailer)

Jarhead (2005)– …especially when told from the true account of a disillusioned soldier who was there. (trailer)

Charlie Wilson’s War (2007)– The same foreshadowing can be made out of our 1980’s Cold War involvement on the side of Afghanistan versus the Soviet Union as outlined by a gem of a Tom Hanks, Julia Roberts, and Phillip Seymour Hoffman film. To think that we could have stuck around and cleaned the place up before they became our enemy. (trailer)

Rambo III (1988)– Speaking of an American fighting on the anti-communism side of the Afghans! (trailer)

Air Force One (1997)– Not that George W. Bush or Barack Obama ever channeled Harrison Ford here, but don’t you now root a little harder for a take charge President… (trailer)

The Patriot (2000)– … or a flag-carrying American hero from 230+ years ago… (trailer)

Pearl Harbor (2001)– …or the last great American tragedy that galvanized a nation and sent us to war. (trailer)

MOVIES SINCE 2001 THAT RENEW THE AMERICAN SPIRIT

These examples (as well as the aforementioned World Trade Center) will get your patriotic heartstrings going and boost your down spirit.

The Last Castle (2001)– Opening just over a month after the tragedy, the military and flag-waving patriotism of Robert Redford’s underrated drama undeniably stirs you. (trailer)

Behind Enemy Lines (2001)– Leave it to Gene Hackman and Owen Wilson (of all people) to win macho patriotic points for loosely re-enacting the famous pilot Scott O’Grady Bosnian prisoner escape story. (trailer)

Black Hawk Down (2001)– Released during the 2001-2002 awards season, Ridley Scott’s powerful depiction of the 1993 Battle of Mogadishu showed the uncompromising courage of U.S. Army Ranger and Delta Force soldiers at a time when our current soldiers were likely preparing for going overseas to similar urban warfare. (trailer)

We Were Soldiers (2002)– Mel Gibson may be embroiled in unpopular headlines now, but his 2002 action-drama from his Braveheart writer about America’s first official military action in Vietnam is as powerful and it is impressive. Like Black Hawk Down, it added to the heroic mystique of the American soldier, even if it was set in the past. If you don’t cry watching those wives deliver those first casualty letters, there’s something wrong with you. (trailer)

Spider-Man (2002) and Spider-Man 2 (2004)– New York’s #1 resident superhero always fights for a way for the citizen of the city to stand up together. I suppose you can throw in the pair from the reboot (The Amazing Spider-Man and The Amazing Spider-Man 2) for some of the same reasons. (trailer)

Gangs of New York (2002)– Martin Scorsese is a quintessential New Yorker and his mid-1800’s history piece (while definitely violent) was a love letter to the city’s great history. (trailer)

Elf (2003)– Will Ferrell put the Big Apple back in the Christmas cheer. (trailer)

Ladder 49 (2004)– Though it wasn’t set in New York, you can’t help but think of the 343 NYFD men and women that lost their lives on September 11th and ardent first-responders when you watch Joaquin Phoenix and John Travolta as macho Baltimore firemen. (trailer)

Million Dollar Baby (2004)– America loves a good underdog story and Clint Eastwood gave the public a heck of a good one that went on to win the Oscar for Best Picture. (trailer)

Miracle (2004)– What better way to boost American spirit than to relive our greatest Olympic triumph. (trailer)

National Treasure (2004)– How about a history lesson to make you feel good about our great country? Why not? (trailer)

Hitch (2005)– Will Smith brought popular romance back to the City That Never Sleeps. (trailer) He would capture hearts for a different reason the next year with The Pursuit of Happyness. (trailer)

We Are Marshall (2006)– Another real-life airplane tragedy sets the stage for an amazing story of athletic and community rebirth. One of the most underrated football movies out there. (trailer)

Live Free or Die Hard (2007)– Why not give NY’s best bad-ass cop a chance to save the nation’s capital? (trailer)

Captain America: The First Avenger (2011)– Last but not least, you can’t get more patriotic and underdog than this skinny guy from Brooklyn transformed into a red-white-and-blue super soldier. He followed it up this past summer saving New York in The Avengers. (trailer and trailer) (full review and my full review)

American Sniper (2014)– The tremendous reception Clint Eastwood’s film had to become the highest grossing movie of the year made Chris Kyle a household name and heavily amplified a previously dormant red-blooded (and “red state-d”) surge of patriotism and soldier appreciation. (trailer) (my full review)

Sully (2016)– Both the incredible true story of Flight 1549 from 2009 and Clint Eastwood’s respectful retelling featuring Tom Hanks as Capt. Chelsea “Sully” Sullenberger remind audiences of the strength of New York City. There’s a great line in the movie where someone is trying to thank Sullenberger and says that it’s been a long time since the city has had good news about anything like the “Miracle on the Hudson,” especially about a plane. (trailer) (my full review)

Patriots Day (2016) and Stronger (2018)– The way the city of Boston rallied from another terrorist attack on American soil during its marathon has key inspirational value. It’s too bad the film was the Mark Wahlberg show rather than a well-rounded ensemble approach. (trailer) (my full Patriots Day review) (trailer) (my full Stronger review)

Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017) and Avengers: Infinity War (2018)– Much like the Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield web-slinger movies that came before, Tom Holland’s take on Peter Parker is a born-and-raised New York kid that supports and protects his neighborhood and city from dangers foreign and domestic. His protection, joined by fellow New Yorker Doctor Strange, expands with the united effort with The Avengers when Thanos shows up in Avengers: Infinity War. One part down on that with one to go in the summer of 2019. (trailer) (my full Spider-Man: Homecoming review) (trailer) (my Avengers: Infinity War review)

Only the Brave (2017)– Just as with Ladder 49 thirteen years before it, you can’t beat the sympathy generated by the hard work, dedication, and sacrifice of firefighters. Forest fires aren’t terrorists, but the feels are all there. (trailer)

The 15:17 to Paris (2018)– Four years after American Sniper, Clint Eastwood dipped his filmmaking brush in the hero worship paint again to tell another true story. The wrinkle of this one is that Eastwood called upon the actual heroes that thwarted the 2015 Thayls train attack to star in their own movie recreation. Results were mixed, but the Eastwood prestige is there. (trailer) (my full review)

THE UP-AND-DOWN PULSE OF CONTINUED SENSITIVITY AND/OR CENSORSHIP TO 9/11 SIMILARITIES

For 2014 and going forward, this is a new section I’m adding to this study. Now that enough time has passed since 2001, I’m beginning to notice that movies are starting to go back to some of the images and themes of violence, destruction, and terrorism that were hands off for so many years after 9/11. Like all history, even 9/11 will fade. What we were offended by after the horrific incidents have returned, in some cases, to be more tolerated and even acceptable and celebrated again. Sure enough, there are plenty who vividly remember 2001’s events and images and are quick to point out when something is in possible poor taste. That shaky barometer has led to some allusions and reminders to 9/11 and some flat-out censorship changes and corrections. Some get flak and slaps on the wrist while some don’t. Here are some examples in recent years.

Olympus Has Fallen and White House Down (2013)– Both competing White House takeover films from 2013, one from Antoine Fuqua (Training Day) and one from Roland Emmerich (Independence Day) had a bit of split audience reaction to their violent and terrorist content. Some rooted and cheered as if it was the 80’s again and America is always going to win. Others were not so keen or ready to see the White House become a target and battleground, even if it was just a movie. Between the two, Olympus Has Fallen, the R-rated and more severe one of the two, was the bigger hit. In a way, no one batted an eye. (trailer and trailer) (my full Olympus Has Fallen review)

Man of Steel (2013)– Despite being one of the most all-American heroes around, Zack Snyder’s Man of Steel gave Superman a very serious tone that, in a way, can’t be included on the category before this one of movies that renew the American spirit. Also, many people were not very pleased with the immense city-wide destruction scenes of Metropolis during the film’s climax. Even though Chicago was the filming location of a fictitious comic book city, there were staunch critics who had a problem with huge office buildings and skyscrapers in very 9/11-esque rubble. Its 2016 sequel, Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice mildly addressed that a city can’t be destroyed without consequences, even on Superman’s watch in a colorful comic book setting. (my full review)

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Transformers: Dark of the Moon (2011)– Much like Man of Steel, the third Michael Bay Transformers movie features a great deal of city-wide destruction (again, in Chicago) that rubbed a few people the wrong way. (trailer) (my full review)

Star Trek Into Darkness (2013)– Throw in the terrorist label for the villain and his bombings and the big San Francisco starship wreck during this film’s ending action that was clearly a larger scale to a passenger jet taking out buildings. (trailer) (my full review)

Godzilla (2014)– Add the King of the Monsters to the list of more city destruction that raised an eyebrow for some. (trailer) (my full review)

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2014)– Outside of this string of modern and accepted examples of urban attacks and destruction, is the minor amount of hot water the makers of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles got it for a promotional poster that had an exploding skyscraper that cut too close to 9/11 similarities. The study pulled the poster and had to apologize. Censorship and sensitivity won that argument and mistake. (trailer)

The Walk (2015)– A very big test to peoples’ memories of the World Trade Center will be coming in the Fall of 2015 with Robert Zemeckis’s film The Walk, the true story of the French high-wire artist Philippe Petit’s quest to tightrope walk between the twin towers of the World Trade Center in 1974 (previously featured in the Academy Award nominated 2008 documentary Man on Wire). Starring Joseph Gordon-Levitt, the film will prominently display, thanks to Zemeckis’s stunning use of CGI, a tremendous amount of imagery of the two lost skyscrapers. Even though it’s a period piece to a non-turbulent time, no film since 2001 has attempted to show this much of those building. Public reaction was mixed and the film was not a box office hit. (trailer) (full review)

Independence Day: Resurgence (2016)– I guess it’s OK for patriotic mass city destruction again. London gets it worse than New York, though. (trailer) (full review)

Ghostbusters (2016)– Well, New York was safe for at least a month anyway between Independence Day: Resurgence‘s release and the new reboot (which conveniently made sure its city destruction in Times Square and other places be easy to erase). Not far behind was the fictional Suicide Squad and its over-the-city halo of supposed death. (trailer) (my full review)

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Rampage (2018)– Larger in size than the old World Trade Centers used to be, Chicago’s Willis Tower, the former Sears Tower and tallest building in the world, was the targeted collapsed skyscraper spectacle of choice in the Brad Payton/Dwayne Johnson live-action video game adaptation. Monsters aren’t terrorists, but the imagery hits close as the Willis Tower was one of many skyscrapers across the country evacuated on 9/11 out of fear of becoming another target. See the collapse clip above. (my full review)

I hope everyone enjoyed this little (OK, large) retrospective about the impact of 9/11 in movies for the last 18 years and counting. Take some time this coming weekend to appreciate the freedoms we have the people fighting to keep them for us. Support your troops and first responders and, again, NEVER FORGET!

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lokispettigerr · 6 years

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In The Flesh- Loki POV x Original Female Character (Part 1)

If you like this please please tap that reblog :) . It is huge encouragement.

*Not 100% set on POV in later parts

Part 2

Fic Summary: (Part 1- Loki’s POV) Loki tells of one of the visions the Tesseract cursed him with. In his vision he sees a woman confined and decides he will do anything in his power to help her.

Timeline: The Avengers movie

Word Count: 1,616

Warnings: Mention of Child abuse and some Violence

A/N: This fic is set during "The Avengers"

****If you would like to be on the general taglist OR the taglist for this fic please leave me an ask. I will make it happen and would be happy to do it!

I am Loki, Prince of Asgard, and I am burdened with glorious purpose.

When I was a child, things weren’t easy– ever. In fact, they were very, very hard. There were always forces in opposition, pushing and pulling with hatred and obsessions. I was caught in the middle of it all, like the offspring of a spider made prey by its own parentage. However, the spider wasn’t my true parent. To Odin, our spider on the web, I was something vile, corrupt, without order; something chaotic that needed to be put in its place.

And so, as a child, young and blind to the incongruicies and discriminations of life, I accepted Odin’s treatment of me. Somehow, as a child used to a life of malice and ill will, you just believe there is nothing better out there—for it is what you have always known.

Can you perhaps, relate?

I truly believed, with burning conviction there was nothing better out there, in the nine realms. I suppose I wanted to so desperately feel that no matter the treatment I received, that it was fatherly, unconditional love in its purest form. That is, until I started to get a glimpse of the world and the blind was removed from my eyes like fetters falling from the wrongfully imprisoned. And much like the wrongfully imprisoned, the one that has been left to rot in a cell, away from all mankind, away from light, touch, sound, out of sight—when I was unintentionally and haphazardly released from the bonds that held me, I began to dream. And when I began to dream I began to court danger. That’s how it all starts isn’t it? Danger often times comes with dreams, perhaps they are cousins, or lovers, or both. Imaginably both, that must be why they give birth to fear. Fear being an all-consuming debilitating emotion, something I am all too familiar with. Something all too familiar with me. Try as I might, I like to think fear has no hold over me any more after all those years long ago when I was a child living in the shadow of the spider. However, this is comically wrong, for I encountered fear again when the Tesseract gave me a dream. But more on that later.

Now then, if I am not the offspring of the spider what am I? I am the child of hunger. The child of desire for something to fill a yawning emptiness so vast the void could consume the stars. I am the child of those people who starved, and in their starvation they became what appear to be monsters. They are called “Jotuns”, and are of Jotunheim. The Jotuns are the natural enemy of Asgard, at least as long as Odin ruled. For an enemy without, strengthens a ruler within. Thus if Jotuns are the enemy then I too am the enemy. In truth, my people are a harsh cold lot, brutal to the core. It is only ever bound to happen when the land they live yields nothing but perpetuating emptiness and desolation, something that only can birth bitterness. Think about that one a while—something that can only birth bitterness.

But now, perhaps, I am dancing around the question, “what am I?”. You see, one of my downfalls is that I like to withhold knowledge, something I may be able to use again at a later date when it better suits me. For now, I am fluid like water, but with much more bite, so let’s say like fire. Simply put, I am a monster. The monster that parents warn their children of at night. Of course because I have only ever yielded destruction, or so I have only ever been told. I am rage and chaos in the flesh—that is something you can trust—my rage.

In truth, I am whatever you want me to be, or even whatever you have need of me to be. Whoever you think I am, I will be—for you of course, and perhaps for a price.

My story however, will vary about as much as I do, it all depends on who you ask. In order for you to see me, there is something I need to show you. You can judge me how you wish from there; I have room for that.

I began rather benign I think. Not that anyone has ever asked my story, but through all the abuse I endured I think I started to lose myself.

There was a time, when I did commit unspeakable acts, but before I ever started on the precipice of that catastrophic journey, unspeakable acts were performed on me. It is not time however, for me to share these unspeakable acts with you—to unburden myself. I do however, have a name to give you, and perhaps you have heard of him. If so, then you know enough… Thanos. I endured torture at Thanos’ hands. For what? All to acquire a stone, but it wasn’t your average stone. The Tesseract was a glorious gateway between the realms. Unfortunately, her power could be used for the triumph of evil, and so it was. While she possessed unspeakable power she also came with her own burdens. She could enlighten, so to speak, the mind of the beholder. Have you ever heard the saying that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Well to her, to the Tesseract, the beholder is in the eye of beauty, really. She shows you what she wishes and you become her thrall—even gods are not immune to her. Her visions are a way for her to protect her secrets. To protect herself.

This is where I come in. I was made to go after the Tesseract and she showed me many things, dreams and worlds beyond measure, beyond even the understanding of a god.

Such an odd thing really, behold the stone and you see everything it wants you to see, vividly, breathing, beating, radiating, pulsating—and me, there in the middle of it. Another spider and another web. Well, her visions happen in an instant, much like falling down an intergalactic wormhole at the speed of light, or even the Bifrost.

The Tesseract, doing what she does, in a way to protect herself, showed me a vision she knew would break me, driving me into madness—of course, the only way to end the madness was to do as she bid.

In just a heart shattering moment, something that I wanted to last an eternity, or one of my life times, I saw a woman. A woman who very much was a girl. Interestingly, initially she could have been taken for a wounded bird—something broken and battered, bleeding her wounds too many to count. Perhaps trampled by too many Bilge-snipe.

I saw her chained in a harshly lit, glass cage. She was cowering naked in a corner, holding her legs to her breasts. Possibly in hopes to hold onto something to gain comfort and stability. Her head was down, wild hair cascading like liquid daggers all around her. I could hear her quiet, musical sobs. I pitied this poor creature, because something inside of her sent an echo of a memory penetrating through me. This little wounded bird was trapped in a spider’s web too– like I had been most of my childhood. My soul reached out to her wanting to free her from her confinement, and I took a steady stride towards her. She sensed my presence. Her mind caressed mine at that moment, and her head snapped up savagely. I froze in my tracks. She did not want me to come near her. I could feel her fear radiating from her, sending shell surging shocks throughout the air. I knew something then. I had been very much mistaken.

This creature was no wounded bird. She was a threat. She was a white tiger posing as a mortal, playing some deadly game. Her green eyes glowing with infinite hatred and something more. Hunger. There was only one place I had seen hunger that savage, it was the hunger my people possessed. This threatening girl, with her blood red lips and icy skin sensed me, even though I was not physically there with her. She continued to study my energy—I wondered what she sensed about me. While I wanted to move closer to her, I was unable to. I was trapped in snares she set for me. Our chains could have made for a matching set. I did what I could, and took as much of her in as possible. One thing was for certain, this tiger in mortal flesh was the most beautiful creature I have ever laid my eyes on. Imaginably, one of the most dangerous too—someone that could come of some use to me later on. Yes, the Tesseract was good. It’s plan for me set. I am certain, if even I wanted to look away from her I would not have been able to. This tiger girl had snared me in more ways than one, and so had the Tesseract.

Without consent the vision was ripped from me, leaving me breathless, disoriented, and enraged, but not before I got a mental image of my surroundings—most notably, a steel plaque on the wall, back-lit with harsh fluorescent, casting a deformed shadow on the floor “S.H.I.E.L.D.” it said. And there, just outside of the girl’s prison, a dark-skinned man cloaked in shadow wearing a grim expression and an eye-patch. He studied her with the same intensity I had.

I had everything I needed. Somehow I would find her, no matter the cost.

I will upload the teaser for part 2 most likely within the next week.

Again, please reblog if you enjoyed. I would be forever grateful friends! I love feedback friends!

***I take requests, leave me an ask.

I have Venmo and Ko-fi

Thank you all so much for taking the time to read this! Peace friends!

General Taglist: @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77

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lolainblue · 6 years

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Phoenix -- Chapter 16

Jane:

May passed in a blur of hotel rooms, radio studios, fundraisers, and airport shuttles, punctuated with wistful Skype calls with Jared that ultimately left me more frustrated than anything else. Mars had only had a few tour dates in May, but that was mostly due to Jared being booked solid on other commitments, and between the two of us, we were as overscheduled as two people could possibly be. By the time June rolled around, whenever I called I could see the tired puffiness in Jared's eyes, puffiness that matched my own. I missed him terribly but there was nothing to be done about the situation. We both had our commitments.

My book tour finally rolled down in June, and the first thing I did was fly home and sleep for most of three days. Jared's tour had picked back up again with nearly back to back European shows, and Roger was finishing up part of a shoot in the Czech Republic. The house felt empty without him and his big presence. We'd only lived there for a few months before we both had to leave, and I couldn't seem to find the vibe of my normal life there no matter how hard I tried. I hadn't made many friends in LA yet, I was still miserly with my personal attachments, and I found myself with nothing to distract me from a sort of creeping loneliness. Since Roger and Gretchen had worked things out the bakery was no longer off limits, so I popped down there for a late lunch in hopes that she might find some time to sit down with me and chat. The bakery had a small cafe attached; a small room with a coffee house vibe that was what had initially drawn me and Roger in. It was scattered with granite topped bistro tables, tall upholstered dining chairs, and lots of plants. There was a fireplace along one wall, and a low leather sofa and some matching chairs that sat in front of it. This late in the afternoon the lunch crowd had already gone, and Gretchen was busy wiping down tables. She looked up as I came in and a smile of recognition spread across her face. “Jane! You're back in town!” she called out as she tucked the towel she had been using into the front pocket of her apron. “It's so good to see you again. How are things?” “Odd,” I confessed as I walked past the counter. “This doesn't quite feel like home yet. Not when I'm alone in that big house.” Gretchen nodded knowingly before making her way behind the display case. “I can see how you would feel that way. You just need to give it some time.” She pulled out a tray. “The usual?” “Yes, please.” I watched as Gretchen pulled a tub of my favorite salad filling out of the cooler and made me a sandwich on one of her bakery's big flaky croissants. She added a half salad and two lattes before taking the tray over to one of the small cafe tables. “Justin, I'm taking my break,” she called out to the teenager at the register as she directed me to one of the tables. Whether it was Gretchen's sunny disposition or the way the faux fireplace flickered comfortingly a few feet away I could quickly feel myself settling down. She set the salad and one of the lattes in front of her and watched me with patient brown eyes until I had settled in with my lunch. “Come on and fill me in.” “Not much to tell,” I said as I blew on my coffee. “I've just been sleeping and puttering around the house. I'm thinking about getting new furniture for the sun porch. The wicker feels so dated...” Gretchen rolled her eyes. “That's not what I mean. Tell me about that gorgeous boyfriend of yours. Have you seen him again? Are things getting steamy?” I was surprised Roger hadn't filled her in. “Yes. To both questions,” I replied with a little blush, thinking of the night Jared and I had spent together on my birthday, the last time I had seen him. “At least they were getting steamy. It's been six weeks since we were together. I mean, we talk and all, but I miss him, you know?” “Yeah, I know, believe me,” Gretchen replied with a sigh and I remembered that it had been a while since she had been able to be with Roger. “I'm sorry. Of course you know.” “Well, Roger will be back in a little over two weeks. How much longer until you get to see Jared?” “I don't know, actually. I'm supposed to be working on this teaser for my agent, but I'm thinking of putting that off until later. I can't seem to settle down and write anything, my head is too full. I'm leaving for Nepal next Wednesday, then I've got a fundraiser in New York, an awards dinner there, and then vacation at my parents' house. Jared's schedule is even worse than mine, full all the way until September, to be honest. He's wrapping up some tour dates, and then he starts shooting a movie, and they're doing this video in Antarctica... it's crazy. And of course you know that Roger starts shooting in Wales in September, and I have that mini UK tour, and I was going to meet up with him some then, and didn't Jared say he had more concerts in September? Why am I just now remembering that?” Gretchen laughed. “Breathe, hon. Wow, that's a lot of dates to juggle. I can't decide if the two of you are really great at time management or really bad at it. Don't you plan time off?” “The Nepal trip and the trip to my parents are supposed to be time off.” “Well, it doesn't sound like you're very relaxed about it.” “No, it's not that, I'm not stressed about those dates. I'm actually really looking forward to the Kathmandu Valley trek I'm doing, and of course I miss my parents. But dating Jared has seriously complicated things. It's one thing to be this busy. It's another thing to have to fit a relationship in on top of it. Then to try to fit in a relationship with someone who's even busier than me... I wasn't kidding all this time when I said I was too busy to date. I don't know if I can do this, Gretchen. And that terrifies me because I want so much for this to work. I love being with Jared.” Gretchen smoothed her curls and regarded me for a moment. “Well, maybe you just need to get creative.” “Please tell me you're not about to suggest some version of phone sex because seriously, I'm already over the Skype dates...” “No. I just meant maybe you need to think differently about your plans and time off. There has to be somewhere in there to shoehorn in a day or two together. What does Jared have to say about all this?” “He misses me too. But he can't exactly drop his tour to hang out with me.” “Who says he has to? You said you were probably going to drop that thing for your agent so you have a few extra days off. Where is he now?” “Uhm... Germany. I think.” “Then why are you here?” “Well... I was exhausted..." I hedged. “Okay, are you still exhausted?” “No, but it's complicated. I can't just fly out there and hang out with him.” I frowned and pushed my sandwich away from me. “How much has Roger told you about...” “Jared's brother who broke your heart and made you swear off dating for four years?” Gretchen cut me off. “Okay, so I guess the subject has come up,” I chuckled, trying to shake loose the gloom I could already feel settling around the table. “Yes, Roger's not the best secret keeper. To be fair though, I grilled him pretty hard about how on earth you ended up dating Jared Leto. So he told me everything.” I must have gotten a look on my face at that point because she hastily added, “Yes, that too. Please don't be mad at him though.” "I'm not mad, but I am surprised. Roger is actually one of the best secret keepers I know. He never tells someone else's secrets without a reason. It can be hard to even get him to reveal much about himself. He must really like and trust you." Gretchen blinked in surprise. “Wow. He is so open with me about everything I just assumed I guess. I hope you're right about that, about how much he likes me. I'd hate to think it's just me that's so smitten. But we aren't talking about me and Roger. You were about to tell me why you can't possibly go see Jared even though you're missing him so much you can't even be alone in your own house.” “It's not... it's just... I mean the last time that we were in the same room together Roger and Jared nearly came to blows and I slapped Shannon. If Roger hadn't grabbed me I'd have done it again. The worst part wasn't even all that though, it was the things he said...and the ones that I said back.” Gretchen seemed to consider the situation carefully. “Does Jared think that Shannon will react like that again?” “Well, we haven't specifically talked about that,” I mumbled as I stared at the table. Although that was technically true, Jared had urged me several times to fly out and see him. I was the one who was too afraid of how Shannon might react, and it wasn't just Shannon's reaction I feared. My own emotions were a toxic soup. I was afraid of more anger from Shannon, more hurtful remarks, or some underhanded trick like the e-mail stunt he had pulled. Even more, I was afraid I would see hurt in his eyes, that I would feel guilty about my relationship with Jared and things would be spoiled. “What if he isn't angry? What if he's just hurt to see me and Jared together.” “Then he'll have to grow up and get over it,” Gretchen supplied matter-of-factly. "He's an adult, not a teenage boy." “No, that's not what ...” I swallowed as I tried to find the words. “If he's hurt, and I feel bad... what does that mean? Does it mean I still care? And if I feel guilty for being with Jared, does that mean that deep down I know that it's wrong?” “It means that you're human and kind and that you don't like to see people hurting no matter what they might have done to you. That isn't something you should feel bad about.” “Maybe,” I said, unconvinced. “I think I'd rather he yell at me again. If I had to choose between the two options.” “I think there's a third option that you're even more afraid of.” “What?” “That he won't care. That you'll show up on Jared's arm and Shannon will just say hello and keep on walking. Like it's nothing.” “No, that would be ideal,” I said, but it felt like a lie. I hadn't even considered that as one of the possibilities, but now that Gretchen had mentioned it, it made me far sicker to think about it than anything else. Perhaps my subconscious had kept that particular scenario buried for a reason. Gretchen reached across the table and took my hand. “All right. But it's okay to want him to care. And it's okay to still have some feelings about him. From what Roger tells me, things were very intense between you two. Just don't let it derail what you have now with Jared.” “I am letting it get in the way, aren't I? Maybe I'm doing that on purpose though. Subconsciously I mean. Keeping things from getting too intense with Jared so that I don't get hurt again. So maybe I do, on some level, think I shouldn't be with Jared? But he makes me so happy..." Gretchen dropped my hand. "Oh my god, you have got to get out of that head of yours before you make yourself crazy. I get you don't quite trust yourself yet, but if you're waiting for some guarantee that no one is going to get hurt, well that's not how relationships work." "I suppose you're right..." “Of course I am. So when's your flight?”

###### I went home and pulled up the schedule Jared's assistant had sent over. As I compared the dates I blinked several times, thinking maybe I was seeing them wrong. How could I have missed this? I flipped over to Roger's schedule, confirming what I saw. If I was able to catch a sleeper flight tonight, I could join Jared in Italy, follow along with the band for five days, and then we could meet up with Roger in Prague. From there I could just head straight to Kathmandu. Everything fitted together perfectly. It was just a matter of booking and changing some flights. I knew it would be okay with Jared if I came. He had been asking for weeks. I had just let my fear of seeing Shannon again keep me from agreeing. Marisol got all the information and made the arrangements for me, booking me into a hotel down the road from where the band would be staying so I could both surprise Jared and avoid Shannon if necessary. Once I had finally landed and stood at the marble-topped reception desk at the Relais dell'Orolgio my heart started to race, and not for the right reasons. I had a sudden and unmercifully vivid vision of exactly what had happened the last time I tried to surprise my touring boyfriend at his hotel. Everything will be okay, Jane. You two aren't exclusive, you've made that crystal clear, so if he's with someone it's not a betrayal of you. You're going to call him and not just pop up at his door. There won't be any ugly surprises. He wants you here. He's going to be happy to see you. In spite of my little pep talk, I still had to take a shower to wash away the nervous sweat I had broken out in and calm my nerves. Once I had finished and redressed, I stretched out on the bed with my phone in my hand while I surveyed my surroundings. The hotel was a converted 14th century home and since such rooms tended to run small, Marisol had booked me a suite. It was a beautiful space, with exposed wooden beams in the ceiling in one area of the room and exposed brickwork in the other. A shuttered window opened onto the narrow street below. It had a very Italian feel to it, and I hoped I could persuade Jared to spend the night here rather in whatever modern accommodations they had probably ended up in. I tapped the screen of my phone a few more times, wondering what Jared would be up to right now. They should have arrived from their previous stop well over an hour ago, but I knew that schedules on the road were sometimes just a suggestion. I didn't want to catch him before he even got into town. I told myself it would spoil the surprise, so I texted Shayla instead, the whole time wondering if I was really just putting off the meeting out of fear. Maybe inviting myself along for almost an entire week was a bad idea. Shayla responded within minutes. He should be in his room already. Call him. He'll be thrilled. I smiled at the screen. I hadn't said I was anxious but obviously she had picked up on my hesitation. I took a deep breath and selected Jared from my contact information before taking a seat in front of that darling little window. He picked up after only the second ring. I smiled, knowing that phone of his was in his hand as usual. “Hey, Jane. This is a surprise. What time is it there? Did you stay up really late or just get up really early?' I opened the window and let the sounds of the street filter into the room. “Oh, I was out all night. I didn't sleep at home.” I told him, thinking of my transatlantic journey. “Oh.” His voice instantly became oddly flat. “Yeah, I mean it's none of my business I guess, you've been clear. I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't have asked.” “What? No, you dolt, but I bet you get a lot of exercise jumping to conclusions like that. I was on a plane. I slept on the flight.” “Oh! God, I'm sorry," Jared quickly backpedaled. "I'm just tired and turned around I guess. We just got to Italy and It's been a little crazy this leg. This week especially. Too much time off I think, and everyone is having trouble getting back into the swing of the tour. I miss you so much.” I heard the noise fade and a click as a door shut in the background. I wondered if he was expecting one of our steamy phone sessions or if he just wanted a little privacy. Of course, he was supposed to be in his own room, so who could he possibly want privacy from? My stomach tightened. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm interrupting something.” “No, I was just unpacking. Nothing for you to interrupt. But I thought you were supposed to be done with the tour and getting some proposal written? Where did you have to fly to?” I chastised myself for doing the same conclusion jumping I had just accused Jared of. It was none of my business who he was with in that hotel room, and the reason it was none of my business was my own stupid need to keep him at arm's length. If I wanted to change the terms of our relationship I needed to talk to him about it, not get into a snit over a closed door. “Well, I didn't have to fly anywhere, but I wasn't feeling at home in the new place by myself so I thought I'd get out of there for a while.” “Did you fly back to New York? You did say you kept the old place there right? God, I'd love to be there right now. Maybe when we have a free weekend we could go stay, hit the museums and maybe go out with some people? You know, like a real couple?” “No, not New York,” I said mysteriously, ready to lead him to my surprise. “So where are you right now? Italy? Where in Italy?” “Pisa. Have you been? It's beautiful. We should take a vacation together soon. It would be nice to have your undivided attention for a few days.” I felt my lips drawing up into a smile. He was so insistent. There was nothing petty in his requests for more of my time, just an honest desire for the company of a girlfriend he already saw too little of. It wasn't like I didn't feel that way too. The situation was frustrating, being separated from him as much as I was when it felt like we had only just started. I realized flying here was the best decision I could have made. My insecurities were ridiculous. “Would you like to show me around Pisa sometime?” Jared hesitated for a second “Well, I don't know about Pisa. I've only been here a few times on tour myself, but we could explore the city together. That would be a lot of fun.” “Why don't you go exploring now and you can give me a full report?” Jared laughed. “I do actually have an afternoon free but I'm probably going to stay in and work some things for the video shoot. I can wait for you.” “Hmmm. That's a shame. You're at the NH Pisa right?” “Yeah, the .. wait, how do you know that?” “I have your itinerary, remember? Anyway, that's a gorgeous area. You know, if you head out of the hotel and hang a right, go down about two blocks, there is the adorable little pensione, an older place with a doorman out front...” I could hear realization dawning in Jared's voice. “Jane, where exactly did you fly to last night?” I continued on. “... and from what I understand, room 327 has a gorgeous view of the piazza. You should really go see it.” There was a sound on the other end of the line like a hungry growl. “God, you are fucking perfect. You have no idea how good your timing is. Give me ten minutes.” “You have five.” “I'll take fifteen then," Jared said defiantly. “Oh goodness, I'm so tired from this long flight," I sighed dramatically. "I might just all asleep and not hear the door. You know, if someone were to knock on it, in this mysterious hotel room I have in no way told you where it is located.” “Ten minutes, Jane. And don't you dare refuse to open that door to me.” “What are you going to do about it if I do?” There was another one of Jared's growls, and the sound settled right behind my core. "Make sure it's a mistake you never make again." Before I could give him another smart assed answer the line went dead. I smiled at my phone and waited for his visit.

@thepromiseofanend @msroxyblog @nikkitasevoli@llfd1977 @fyeahproudglambert @little-poptart @snewsome756 @guccilowell @monicasanoli @lady-grinning-soul-k @pandaliciouz @lostinletoland @moody-by-nature

#TB: Phoenix #jared leto fanfiction #jared leto fic #jaredleto 30stm #thirty seconds to mars #30 seconds to mars fanfiction #shannon leto fanfiction

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wwounu · 6 years

Photo

To be honest… You were really against the idea of going out.

Things weren’t the same: Colours faded, smiles turned into blank images, conversations were like blank polaroids — you have no idea what the outcome will be — it seemed upside down. But maybe Seokmin was doing the right thing, he was never the type to leave someone alone at a rough time.

You huffed, re-reading each text with the male hoping what you were wearing was nice enough for him. Once the conversation got to the topic about your camera, you felt the weight of the world on top of you again.

Right, your camera.

One minute, you leave it aside to do a favour for a fellow student, and the next some asshole took it. Frankly, you wouldn’t mind to pick a ‘small’ fight with the said asshole, but that said, you didn’t know who this asshole was.

But with things being the way they were, almost a month coming and passing, there was a definite sign your camera wasn’t going to come back in your possession. You feel your lips tug at how pitiful the thought was; Even if those memories were still in that camera, you weren’t at complete peace with the absence of your camera.

Deep in your head, your mind finally alarms you that you arrived at the destination Seokmin wanted to meet you at. It was a nice place — you initially thought — cosy, radiating warmth and tender tones, the way the lamp light glowed on the building and the hanging lights on the leaves would make a great angle to take a picture—

“Oh.” A gasp left your lips. Discarding your train of thought, you slowly enter the home-like place, spotting the staircase to the rooftop. Although you hummed, you choose to ask the staff if it was fine to go up there, just in case Seokmin wasn’t doing anything else illegal.

To a greater extent, the staff were incredibly kind too. ‘Why haven’t I found this place ages ago? Seokmin never fails to surprise me…’ By the time that crossed you, a young male was gesturing you to the rooftop, allowing your leave. You thank the people and slowly make your way up the steel staircase, enjoying the deep clang ring each time you take a step.

Something within you began to bubble; It was the happiest feeling you felt in a long, long while. You had a good vibe about this, you could touch it. Grasping the cold metal of the door handle, you warily, but excitedly, open the entrance to the rooftop.

Except, it wasn’t what you had in mind. It was far off what you thought.

But oh, it was so much better.

A rooftop during a calm night, suitable decorations in darkened wood and painted whites to fill the space, the tables and chairs neatly set up that you could see the faint outline of the customers that had been here hours prior. The pretty vines hung off the arbors and crosshatched fences as tiny flowers were at the start of their bloom, and all around shades of green filled your sights among the white and browns.

The dangling fairy lights next to the vines blurred out from your vision, which was a perfect bokeh effect to take pictures, golds and yellows and creams gleaming like a galaxy within your reach. When the wind lightly blew, leaves followed its flow left to right, almost swaying around the floor which attracted you to watch.

And that, was where the heart of the surprise revealed itself to you. Parallel, was where he stood — He who wasn’t Seokmin, he who’s the asshole holding your camera, he who was the sick boy that hid behind a sicker smile, he who was practically killing himself dong what he loves. He who was, and is, Xu Minghao.

His lips moved, curving up as his brought the camera up to your face, welcoming you with that gentle voice.

“Surprise.”

Click.

When the flash died down, you stood there, breath-taken, as you try to understand what just happened. But before you ask, Minghao holds out his pointed finger and slightly jerks his head forward before it ran through his hair. “You might wanna turn around.”

As you turn around, another flash whitens your vision, temporarily blinding you before you see the wall behind you, stringing with photos and polaroids, telling different events and stories through pictures of you.

Astonished, you take one step back and shakily move your eyes one place to another as ghosts of memories cloud your memory — to good times, to bad times, the memorable ones to the throwback ones — you could also have familiar déjà vu looking at some of the photos somewhere… However your mind couldn’t pinpoint a specific time and place.

Repeating your steps (literally), you take another tiny step back and feel a figure behind you, wheezing out a tiny ‘oof’ before an earthy chuckle is followed after.

Without a thought, you turned to hug the male. You hugged him tight, hoping he would never slip through your grasp ever again. He returned the favour and held onto you longingly, nuzzling his cheek into your head like child to a teddybear.

Still, there was awkward tension when the both of you decided to let go of each other, hints of emptiness as you let loose.

“Y/N-“

“‘Hao-“

In unison, you both say. Another laugh passes, less awkward and more easier than the last, easing its way to the conversation.

“I have some things to say.” Minghao confesses. You do the same.

“Yeah. I do too. I’ll go first.” You clear your throat, now sat down next to Minghao on one of the benches as you fiddle with the plants. “I was too careless. It was hard for me as well because I was so self-centred and naggy to get the right shots that I never stopped to think about you. It’s toxic to look back at those photos and wonder how much pain you were in, how much burden you’d have to carry and execute it so well… I promised… I promised myself to get rid of those pictures… But I could never let myself do it, or anyone, but I feel so horrible knowing the true worth of these photos…” You were stuttering your words, “I’m sorry, Minghao, for everything I put you in—“

“Hey…” Minghao pulls you in by the waist, arms soon locking you in as stares at your downcast expression. “Hey, what are you apologising for? You have nothing to be sorry about, you were only trying to do what you needed to, nothing more. I’m the one at fault for not telling you, and now thinking about it, my fear of showing my face only made me seem arrogant and stupid. The more time I spent with you, the more my worries went away. The more I didn’t have to listen to that arrogant voice in my head and have your voice replace that was more than amazing. Every moment with you, I would always find small happiness — even behind a fake smile, that spark of joy could change everything. I love doing showcases, but I used to hate them because of the pain I’ll get the day after… But with you — when you came that night — everything felt less tense, I felt at peace, like the world wanted me to be happy that night.”

You believed his words, but you didn’t know how to say it. So you buried your head deeper under his coat and stayed in that position until you felt ready to talk again. It was as if Minghao could read your thoughts and would instantly respect that.

“How did you get the pictures?”

“I have my sources. One was through your friends, who were a bit annoying because they kept teasing me... They’re worse than the art students, honestly. Your camera, because I’d always take pictures of you whenever I got my hands on it… My phone and my camera, because when you aren’t looking during photoshoots I like to take secret shots, but I guess they aren’t secret anymore…”

“… Does that mean you’re the asshole who stole my camera?”

“Asshole? That’s a bit strong, Seok’ would never.”

“Seokmin stole it?!”

“Yeah, he was part of this plan too. Well, I kind of pressured him to get the camera but he had the choice not to, you know how he is though. I needed the camera to get the last pictures and voila! The wall is complete.”

“You’re so mean.”

“But Seokmin’s a hero, you have to admit.”

“Like I said, he never fails to surprise me…” You sigh, smiling sadly.

The wind blows between the both of you again and a chills send up your spine, bringing Minghao close to you as possible to avoid getting cold. You realise your actions not long after, letting go of Minghao and staring up at him with slight fear in your eyes, quick to apologise to him.

But even the subtle warm glow of faces could calm you down in a second — Maybe not faces, but Minghao’s everything was captivating, and you were taken away by the sight.

“Hey.” He laughs, raising his eyes and eyebrows before a smile crosses his face when he stares at you.

“Hey.”

Perhaps, all you had to do to see that genuine smile was to simply put the camera down.

OPPOSITES ATTRACT PART FIFTEEN — Model!Minghao x Photographer!Reader

hm... the teaser might be out tomorrow... or tonight (sigh what did i write i wrote it a 2:14am)

one • two • three • four • five • six • seven • eight • nine • nine ½ • ten • ten ½ • eleven • twelve • thirteen • fourteen • fifteen • sixteen

masterlist

#minghao #seventeen minghao #xu minghao #minghao au #minghao texts #minghao imagines #the8 #seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen texts #seventeen opposites attract au #kpop #kpop texts #kpop imagines #model!minghao

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moviechats · 6 years

Text

Way Too Early Predictions: Oscars 2020

Hello. It’s me, again.

I know we’re still digesting Hollywood’s Biggest Night and reminiscing about the past few months of Awards and Honors (just me....?). But it’s time to put that behind us. We’re looking towards the future now.

I always enjoy award season, even if it is disappointing and I’m left bitter and defeated. But guess what? We always have next year to look forward to. And now we’re going to take a sneak peak at what may be on the horizon for 2020.

It’s time...for my Way Too Early Oscar Predictions

During the Oscars this year we were treated to a nice little teaser for Martin Scorsese’s latest film, the Irishman which will most likely be competing next year. I’ve been following this film since it was announced, ready for the Oscar potential that comes with any Scorsese film. Right now, all that’s listed for a synopsis on IMDB is, “A mob hitman recalls his possible involvement with the slaying of Jimmy Hoffa.“ I mean...sign me up right there. The cast also features Oscar veterans, Al Pacino and Robert De Niro, as well as Joe Pesci and Harvey Keitel. It’s been a hot minute since Scorsese’s last Best Director win and even his last nomination. The only thing that slows this train down for me is the fact it’s been scooped up by Netflix. I still don’t think Netflix movies should be considered for Oscars and I absolutely hate watching movies at home that should be seen in the theater. Unless Netflix releases this into theaters and acts as a distributor, I may not be as hyped about this when it’s actually released as I am now. But...I’m still super into this and wouldn’t be at all surprised if it becomes an award show darling.

Potential nominations: Picture, Director, Acting, Screenplay

Speaking of another film starting it’s campaign early...

The first full trailer for the Elton John biopic, Rocket Man just dropped this past week and you know after the success of Bohemian Rhapsody they’ll be setting their sights on awards. Taron Egerton seems a high prospect for a Best Actor nomination and I’d love to see this nominated for costumes (the same way I wanted Bohemian to be nominated...iconic looks!). I’m super excited about this one since I just caught Elton on his last tour and, to be honest, I love any movie about musicians (but don’t classify them as musicals!). Several articles have already claimed Taron has started his campaign for award seasons (after he showed up to sing at Elton’s annual Oscar party), and honestly why shouldn’t he? The only foreseeable problem (besides the possibility it could always be terrible...we’ve only seen the trailer) is that it comes out in May. In entertainment terms, it’s practically an eternity between May and true Oscar season. I mean, A Star is Born came out in October (although it premiered in August at the Venice Film Festival) and lost steam so fast, by the time January rolled around it seemed like a distant memory. I’m not sure this could pull off a Best Picture nomination. It will probably depend on what else is nominated and how many films they decide.

Potential nominations: Picture, Acting, Screenplay, Costumes, Cinematography

It’s not a biopic, but another film based on a true story coming in hot is A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, a film featuring Tom Hanks as the iconic Mr. Rogers. It’s not a biopic about Rogers’ life, but rather a true story revolving around his friendship with journalist Tom Junod. I’m personally glad it’s not a biopic or biography-type movie, since we already had the phenomenal documentary released this past year. Tom Hanks has already started generating Oscar buzz even though all we’ve been granted is a single photo of him in character. That’s all we need, though! Tom is the perfect choice to play the kind and gentle Rogers and a Best Actor nomination is probably on the horizon. It’s also directed by Marielle Heller who helmed one of my favorite films of 2018, Can You Ever Forgive Me. I sincerely hope the Academy fixes their screw up of 2018 and nominates her next year. I’d like to say it’s a lock, but since she’s a woman, who knows (yes I’m throwing shade at the Academy. I’ll do it all day)? With a November release date, they definitely have awards on the brain.

Potential nominations: Actor, Director, Screenplay

The film that I’m personally the most excited for is Quentin Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. I love Tarantino films and really just Tarantino in general. When the announcement about this film was initially made, it mentioned the Manson murders and, despite my love for Tarantino, I will admit I rolled my eyes and thought “not another one.” But the synopsis has shifted, now listed on IMDB as “A faded TV actor and his stunt double strive to achieve fame and success in the film industry during the final years of Hollywood's Golden Age in 1969 Los Angeles” with Wikipedia mentioning all of this taking place during the same time as the Manson murder. So now I’m more intrigued. Where does Sharon Tate fit in? How do they Manson murders come in to play? Oh my goodness I already can’t wait for this film. As if that wasn’t enough, our main leads are two former Hollywood “It” men, Brad Pitt and Leonardo DiCaprio. As far as I can remember, the two have never starred in a film together which is insane. The film also boats a cast that includes Margot Robbie, Dakota Fanning, Al Pacino, and Kurt Russell. With all those names, it seems likely that someone will land an acting nomination. There’s probably going to be stiff competition, but I’d love if Leonardo snagged another Best Actor (or even Supporting Actor) nomination and it’d be great to see Brad Pitt maybe even win. Hollywood loves Hollywood and they seem pretty fond of Tarantino, so I wouldn’t be surprised with a Best Picture nod and maybe even a Golden Globe win. Tarantino has also won the Original Screenplay Oscar twice, so a nomination seems almost given. This also marks his ninth movie, which if he sticks with the plan, will be his second to last before his retirement (or long hiatus. I have a hard time believing he’d be gone for long). If he starts playing that up again, it could help boost him to a nomination, if not a win.

Predicted nominations: Director, Acting, Screenplay,

Some other titles being tossed around...

Harriet, about the life of Harriet Tubman, has started gaining steam. I haven’t read too much about it yet, but given the powerful figure it’s about, it seems ripe for Award Season. Predicted nominations: Best Picture and Best Actress.

The Report made quite the splash at Sundance. I have mixed feelings, since I usually find any films about our government not directed by Adam McKay to be boring and dry. Listen, we live with the government, we don’t need to be reminded of what’s going on. But this one does have two of my favorite people, Adam Driver and Annette Bening, and started generating Oscar buzz as soon as its premier was over. I’d die if Adam Driver makes another trip to the Academy Awards and I don’t know what I’d do if he wins. Annette Bening may be our Glenn Close of next season, as she has also never won an Oscar and it could be her time. Predicted nominations: Picture, Actress, (supporting) Actor, Screenplay

Little Women will be Greta Gerwig’s next feature film, following on the success of Lady Bird, which saw it’s own Oscar acknowledgement (although it left empty handed). I’ve never been a fan of the story, but to be honest I’ve never read all of it. I’m giving this a chance since I love Greta and the cast includes her darling Saoirse Ronan and everybody’s boyfriend Timothée Chalamet, as well as Emma Watson, Florence Pugh (my favorite fresh face) and Meryl Streep (an Oscar staple). Could this be incredibly boring? Yes. But it could also be an award season favorite since it is a period piece. The Academy loves those.. Predicted nominations: Picture, Director, Screenplay, Costumes.

These are just some of the titles that have been thrown around so far. After my least favorite year for film in a long time, I’m looking forward to this new crop. Tarantino, Scorsese, Gerwig, a film with Adam Driver, and biopics abound! I’m so ready for 2019. Here we go.

#Oscars #Oscars 2020 #the Irishman #Quentin Tarantino #Leonardo DiCaprio #Brad Pitt #Tom Hanks #Greta Gerwig #the Report #Adam Driver #Way Too Early 2020

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