#if they sold out to a tv studio simply because they want to make TV we would have been upset but understood

[fuckrealityfictionisbetter]

Incase anyone wasn’t aware I have a buzzfeed unsolved tattoo, it’s subtle and you wouldn’t know that it is a fan tat unless I told you, but I got it because their content basically got me through collage, I have brought their merch, I’ve watched basically everyone of their shows, but Im one of the millions of fans who just aren’t rich enough for them to actually care about, because they just don’t care about the majority of their fans, as others have said they only need about 5-10% of their fans for $6 and the rest of us can be dropped like we never mattered, that is what people are upset about, we never expected anything in return for our support, but we never expected to be rejected either

[genericpuff]

This whole "LO is ending" thing makes me a little sussy baka-

There are currently four ways for fans of LO to find out about it ending.

1.) Articles online , of which there are only two, from Cosmopolitan and Popverse

2.) A user who got to ask Rachel questions at NYCC and posted their findings to the official Discord which has recently re-opened

3.) The Lore Olympians IG page (a fan page for LO)

4.) The antiLO/ULO communities

Notice a pattern?

None of these are official sources.

Rachel hasn't tweeted it or posted about it to Instagram. "But she's busy with NYCC" might make sense, but the official Webtoon pages haven't posted about it either.

And despite the fact that Rachel HAS posted about the series returning, it HASN'T included the reveal that it's returning for its final arc.

And this makes me suspicious.

Why?

Because this isn't how you market a final season.

City of Blank is currently on its final season. We know this definitively because it's been marketed as such since the premiere.

They knew from the start that this was going to be the last season, so they marketed it as such. Which makes sense, this is something you SHOULD do when marketing a final season, it lets people know that if you want to read a series, NOW is the best time to do it! If you're someone who fell off the series, now is the time to check back in and catch up on what you missed!

LO, meanwhile, hasn't had that marketing. This made a lot of us suspicious that S3 wasn't going to be the final season (which was a common belief for a while) because if it was the final season, why wasn't it being marketed as such? Why were so many new plot threads being established if this was meant to be the last season?

It's tinfoil hat time-

I'm feeling very certain that the signs of S3 not being the final season were true - but the decision was made to end the series with the third season regardless.

When you really think about it, it makes sense:

The popular opinion of LO has shifted to negative, with many people calling the comic out on how silly and poorly made it is.

Every time Webtoon Official announces new awards for the comic, the general opinion is, "Why?" and not just from the antiLO/ULO community, but even from other webcomic creators and users of the platform.

Its average numbers have been rapidly dropping with each episode and they'll surely continue on that downslide after it returns from the longest hiatus it's ever been on.

Its rating on the app has been slowly but steadily dropping, and its viewcount has hardly risen despite all the marketing it gets from Webtoons.

The fans haven't had access to any sort of space since the closure of the official FB page, Discord, and subreddit (the latter of which was already dying in activity by the time it closed).

The newest releases of the physical copies go on sale literally less than a week after release. There's still no news of the TV show and it's becoming painfully obvious that the production rights are simply sitting around waiting to either be sold to another studio or abandoned entirely. And the longer time goes on, the further LO ends up being in the rearview mirror of WT culture, the less interest there will be in adapting it.

It's already barely discussed outside of the platform, people who traditionally read comics have no idea what LO is despite WT's rabid attempts to inject it into every corner of comic culture.

It's safe to say that much of WT's audience is very over LO, and many are simply sticking with it to see how it sticks its landing. Now we know that landing is coming in 2024, but we didn't know that until now, and it was very silently announced. Not a single word on Rachel's or WT's social media. No big hoorah or hype marketing to get people excited for the finale. Chances are fans have found out about this reveal more from the anti's than their usual sources of information.

This really casts an implication that LO was going to go on longer than a third season - but Webtoons decided to put down its golden goose instead.

Now Rachel has (according to the answers at NYCC) until 'early to mid 2024' to clean up the mess she's made.

(my personal theory is it's going to end just in time for the first day of Spring/Rachel's birthday).

Even her answers about her future projects and how the series will end are incredibly vague. Most of the time she's describing exactly what she's guilty of doing without ever owning up to the fact that she's largely the root of most of her work's problems. It's very much "take your own advice for once."

(^^^ Notice how she doesn't actually talk about the show here, she redirects it entirely to the books. Exhibit #2385902 that the show isn't happening and they just don't want to take the L.)

There's also an accompanying tinfoil hat theory that the reason they're being so vague about it is because they haven't actually committed to an ending. Which would be very Rachel of them to do. Rachel is notorious for saying she's doing one thing and then doing the complete opposite. She's often written entire plotlines as vague as possible to make it easier for her to either bury them or retcon them down the road, so I wouldn't be surprised if she wound up retconning the comic's entire finale if it's just a matter of her trying to decide if she wants to continue the comic or not.

That said, I think the former is a bit more plausible, knowing at least somewhat as to how WT works with their contracts. It really feels like she either suddenly decided not to continue, or WT cut her off entirely by not giving her a series renewal for a 4th season. I've seen series get sudden finales in the past due to WT cutting them loose, and those were series that were, unlike LO, actually enjoyed by many and didn't have an entire critic community based around them. It would explain why not even Webtoons is announcing the ending of the comic.

But we'll see what happens after NYCC ends and LO returns November 4th. I don't think LO is going to be able to stick the landing that it's been crashing towards for two years now, but you bet your ass I'm gonna be here to watch.

[natromanxoff]

Record Mirror (July 14, 1979): 119/?

THE QUEEN BACKLASH ENDS HERE

WITHOUT DOUBT Queen are among that elite number of bands universally hated by the rock press.

The rancour is, make no mistake, mutual which is understandable. If you find yourself on the receiving end of an inveterate dislike at the outset of your career and watch it being nurtured and carefully cultivated over the next six years you’re bound to retaliate.

Queen’s hatred manifests itself by their continued habit of ignoring the music press i.e. refusing to give interviews. There is the occasional token “chat”, pointless as it is innocuous, but in the main it amounts to a blanket “No.”

One of the last interviews Freddie Mercury gave was the last nail in the perspex coffin. Under a headline which boldly asked ‘Is This Man A Prat?’ the king of the leotards was demolished by one of the old school Queen haters and Freddie obviously came to the conclusion, in its wake, that interviews in future would be both superfluous (he was popular enough) and detrimental.

The curtain, velvet naturally, closed.

Roger Taylor, a little wary, a little weary, sits stiffly in an armchair. The juggernauts rattling the Chelsea Street outside create a sonorous buzz bomb hum in the room.

You expect a member of Queen to look elegant. In fact Roger is only wearing a wine colour mohair jacket, black shirt and blue jeans.

He apologises for being a little late and explains how he went to the wrong address. Roger seems to be the only member of Queen left who is prepared, albeit rarely, to open his mouth in the presence of a hack. A question springs to mind . . . why?

“We all sat around a table before I flew over from Munich to discuss the press situation and we agreed I should be the one to represent the band. Freddie is very uncompromising and refuses to have much to do with journalists.

“Obviously, he’s had a few raw deals with them in the past,” observes Taylor.

Roger himself has a rather low view of the music press.

“Most of it is rubbish. There was something I liked recently, a piece on Malcolm McLaren, but in the main I think I’m the only one of Queen to actually read the music papers.”

Why does he think the band are systemically slagged?

“I think it’s because Queen have always come across as being a rather confident band. We seemed, to other people at least, to be very sure of ourselves. I think the press may have misconstrued the confidence, mistaking it for a form of arrogance. Hence they became wary of our motives which bred a dislike for our music.”

Now that’s what I call a neat conclusion.

At the risk of being sent to Coventry by my colleagues I’d like, if I may, to come clean. I love Queen (you’re fired, Ed).

I think it all began with a simple pre-packed but indisposable line – “Dynamite with a laser beam” and has continued uninterrupted (despite the occasional flaw) right through to ‘Queen Live Killers’.

A combination of reasons, Freddie Mercury’s lascivious lisp – the most attractive intonation known to man . . . Brian May’s reel ‘em off rococo riffs that would, in his capable hands, transform the theme music for ‘Waggoners’ Walk’ into a meisterwork . . . John Deacon’s almost stoic stance, incongruous yet integral . . . Roger Taylor’s intense power, so unexpected from one so slight . . . the ability to go over the top without failing into the trap of caricature . . . a desire to give the punters what they want without pandering . . . that cast iron confidence . . . those nine glorious winter weeks of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ which kept the cold away from my soul . . .

Yes, I love Queen.

Roger explains the story behind ‘Killers’ which features just about every Queen classic which ever found its way into a silk lined memory bank.

“We always knew that one day we would make a live album. I think it was well planned. About 90 per cent of our last European tour was recorded on a mobile unit and we then spent weeks sitting through the songs in the studio.

“The result is a 100 per cent LIVE album. Nothing has been touched up in the process of selection, I think that’s pretty rare these days. Many ‘live’ albums are tampered with.”

The choice of single is unusual – ‘Love Of My Life’. “It’s not so unusual when you hear the way it came out. The song seems to have such a wide appeal. Everywhere we go the reaction to it is the same. The audience are just bursting to sing along.”

The result is Queen’s best single since ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’ (that was their LAST one crawler, ED)

As I mentioned earlier the band are currently residing in Munich where they are “experimenting” in the studio.

“We are recording in a totally different way for us,” says Roger who speaks with a delicate London accent only typical of cockneys with dramatic training and David Essex.

“Every time we entered a studio in the past we had a good idea of what we were going to do. This time we started from scratch and the result is amazing. The music is nothing like anything we’ve done before, I guess you could say it’s much simpler.”

And this novel approach to their music also extends to their shows. On their next British tour – in the late Autumn – the band will be playing much smaller venues than they are accustomed to.

“In London for example we went to play to audiences of about two or three thousand in different areas. I think it’s much fairer to the fans.”

But won’t this affect their stage show which is after all a crucial factor for any powerpomp outfit?

“Not really. We will just scale down the show accordingly. Besides,” he says taking another bite out of the biscuit, “we haven’t used dry ice in years.”

The monkey on Queen’s back, as corpulent and cantankerous as ever, has been put there by those who firmly believe the band can never emulate past achievements. Roger is cognizant of its presence but refuses to unpeel its bananas.

“That all began after ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’. When it stayed at number one all those weeks we were kindly informed that we would never be able to make another single to rival it both artistically and from the point of view of sales.

“Yet ‘We Are The Champions’ sold a great deal more and has since become the biggest selling single in the entire history of Elektra Asylum – our label in the States.

“We don’t do the amazingly complex things any more because we’ve moved on from that. We concentrate on the music we are doing now and we intend to do it the best we can, it’s ridiculous looking behind and and what you’ve done.

“There’s nothing like going back on the road to re-unite the bond between the four personalities and strengthening our belief in the band. We are a real working unit and, in my experience of the music business, one of the most democratic bands around today.”

A statement like that cries out to be expounded.

“People think every member of all the bands, not naming any names, are treated equally that is get the same money as their colleagues. That’s rubbish. In many bands there are a couple of guys that get all the money. The rest are on wages. Queen share the profits equally.”

And they don’t have a manager taking his cut either, John Reid departed a couple of years back and now the band themselves make all the major policy decisions. Why did they decide to dispense with the services of a manager?

“Basically because we were fed up with giving other people money. Y’know it never ceases to amaze me how naive those guys are in bands who have just had their first hit. After all this time I’ve forgotten just how naive we must have been at the beginning.

“I mean, everything seems so great when you get into the charts for the first time. You’re living on cloud nine and nothing else matters. But in truth that hit means absolutely nothing. So few people achieve any amount of financial success in this business.

“Oh, you think, you’re really living . . . for a while. Somebody gets you a flat in Chelsea and it’s all free. But one day the rent stops being paid for you and you realise you’re skint.

“Since John Reid has gone the four of us have always made a point of discussing everything together. We have various people working for us but all the important decisions are made by us alone. That way we get freedom of choice – and financial independence.”

My attention is suddenly diverted.

“FORTY-LOVE!” Wimbledon, the Persil White opiate for the hoi polloi squashed in a strawberry crush wrings out its perspiring petticoats on the TV in the next room.  Roger’s girlfriend, an extremely attractive French girl called Dominique, is engrossed. The couple have lived together for two years. Crippled old marriage questions permeate the air.

“I don’t believe in marriage,” says Roger. “It’s simply a contract and the fewer contracts I enter into the better. If you get on well with someone then there isn’t any harm in living with that person – but marriage is something else again.”

They live in a six bedroomed Victorian house just outside London, which is set in 20 acres. Roger has a “tiny” town house in Barnes as well. What’s it like having a bank full of money at the age of 29?

“I don’t hide away from life. Queen have never been one of those ‘being grabbed in the street’ type bands. It may happen when the four of us are together – but when we are out alone we are seldom bothered. That gives me the opportunity to enjoy myself. I go to clubs a lot. I like having a good time. I don’t think you could describe any of the band as leading sheltered lives.

“But I have completely lost touch with how much things cost. When you find yourself living in hotels for so long you never really deal in money as such. Everything is available whenever you want it – but you never see the cash actually being handed over.

“I’ve forgotten what it was like to be penniless which Queen were for years. I guess that must happen to many successful rock bands.”

Another thing that happens to many successful rock bands – they quit the country. But not Queen it appears.

“We have always based ourselves in England and I see no reason why we shouldn’t continue to do so. We could leave at any time but we choose to stay. People believe we are tax exiles because we spend a lot of the time out of the country recording in studios all over Europe and touring.”

And what will happen when the band finally trudge wearily down the road leading to that  ivory strewn elephants’ graveyard . . . ?

“I know it’s bound to happen one day. I suppose I’d take a long, long holiday . . . and then make a solo album.”

[eileen-crys]

Brian May interview at Italian program Che Tempo Che Fa (Rai 3 - 5 October 2021 )

Part 1 (on Youtube)

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Hi everyone! I tried to translate the interview that Brian had with the Italian TV program Che Tempo Che Fa, with the host Fabio Fazio. This is only the 1st half of the interview, that can be found on Youtube, while I'll translate the next part next week so stay tuned.

Before reading:

Please keep in mind that English is not my natuve language, I'm Italian and I'm not a professional translator, I simply tried my best with the skills I have and a bit of help from the internet. There may be some errors here and there, I apologise.

While I constantly tried to hear Brian's voice to quote him directly, the translator's voice was loud and I couldn't hear Brian most of the time. My translation is a mix of what the translator says and what I could hear from Brian so please don't take these as exact quotes.

Part 2 is on Rai's website, I'll do my best to translate it for next week! He talks a bit about Freddie, about Back To the Light and other things.

Translation under the cut.

Fabio Fazio: Being able to have him with us is a great surprise. 50 years ago, along with Freddie Mercury, he started one of the most extraordinary bands of all time that sold more than 300 billions of discs. Before having him with us we’d love to dedicate to him and to Queen this video: 

[Video montage]

FF: A rock legend, with Freddie Mercury he’s been the soul and the founder of Queen. From London: Brian May!

Brian May: Ciao Fabio! Thank you for having me! 

FF: This is so emotional, we hope to see you soon here [Fazio meant in studio/in Italy], we’ll wait for you with open arms. (Fazio fanboys some more) 

BM: Thank you, I can’t wait to be back in Italy, I’ve always loved it a lot. I apologise for the sunglasses, but I have a problem, I have an infection, it’s not my fault.

FF: Rockstars can do anything they want, there’s no problem. I’m sorry about the infection, I hope you’ll be better soon. 

BM: But if you can stand me I can take them off, so you see me as I am. (Removes his sunglasses)

FF: Oh feel free to keep them on if you want to, it’s not a problem.

BM: Oh no, I wanted to show you how ugly I am (laughs)

FF: (laughs)

FF: So, this is a year full of important anniversaries, first of all 50 years ago Queen was born, I’ve heard that with Roger Taylor you didn’t want to do a massive celebration, he [idk if he refers to Roger or Bri, also this may not be the exact quote] said “Being still around and playing music is already the biggest celebration”.

BM: That’s right, we didn’t want to make too much noise, you know, 50 years makes us feel very old but I’m happy to be here, to work well. We will be on tour next year in May and we’ll be in Bologna; we really hope so because it’s been a long time and we really have to go on with what we’ve been doing.

FF: It would be amazing if you came here before the tour! But now I want to show our audience a very very beautiful thing: three days ago this very special book came out, the title is “Queen in 3D” and it’s a new updated edition [it’s the edition with the pages about BoRhap that came out like last year but not in Italy yet], completely written by Brian May, the [Italian] publisher is Gremese and it’s a beautiful book! Full of facts, memories, photographs, tales and passion. (fanboys some more) It’s like living the whole story of Queen at Brian’s side, and also our own lives’ stories as we had Queen as our soundtrack. 

BM: (picks up the OWL) There’s also a tool to look at the pictures in three dimensions!

FF: Yes! Look, I have it too, my viewer. So, tell us about it!

BM: Because they’re not just pictures in two dimensions, they’re tridimensional and there’s a big difference!

FF: That’s a huge passion of yours! Now- in the end we found out that, alongside music, you’ve always studied and followed your passion for 3D photography!

BM: Yeah, I probably have too many passions! You see, of course my main passion is music, then stereoscopy, and also astronomy and I even got a PhD. And then animals, I love animals, protecting wildlife and animal rights. 

FF: Exactly, Brian May has a PhD in Physics [*astrophysics], in fact his dad wanted for him to have a more reliable job, as a scientist. You’ve also been a teacher, right? While you were already writing songs for Queen.

BM: Yes, yes, I did! I taught maths I think at middle school, it was great but my students were a bit suspicious and kept asking me “are you a rockstar, sir?” while I was training them.

FF: (Laughs) Well they’d have noticed shortly after!

BM: (says something on the notes of “sure they did!”)

FF: So, during your whole time with Queen you always took pictures, so you documented everything.

BM: I did.

FF: And being them in 3D…

BM: It’s actually very easy! If we had more time I’d show you how, even with an iPhone or any smartphone you can take tridimensional pictures. You just have to take two photos one next to the other, if you go to my website there’s the whole explanation- because we need more tridimensional photos nowadays! I’ve convinced a lot of people, myself included, and NASA scientists as well. Stereoscopy goes from the Victorian era to space!

FF: That’s true! Why do you say we need more 3D photographs? What does it mean, what do they add? 

BM: Because we have two eyes for a good reason, we have the privilege to see depth and it’s been important for our evolution, for example to see where our prey is or if we’re being attacked. Stereoscopy has been unfairly neglected. 

FF: This passion, if I’m not wrong, comes from… wait, was that the guitar? 

BM: Oh this? I always have one in my hands, I’m glued to my guitar!

FF: It’s the Red??! (literally glows up) 

[Brian plays something but the audio is bad and there’s applause as well so we can’t hear anything, sadly.]

FF: But… is it the Red Special? I can’t see very well from here, is it that??

BM: Yeah, yeah this is my Red Special that I built with my dad many years ago, three thousand years ago. It still works. [?? Here I don’t know if Brian has actually said 300 but the translator surely did and I’m a bit confused]

FF: Can we… Can we hear it playing?

[the sound is again very low but better than before] 

[applauses] 

FF: In the book… [Brian keeps playing] 

FF: Thank you!

BM: I’m trying to let you hear it…

FF: The sound isn't good, we can’t hear much, but we heard just a little… we tried… In the book you tell its story, you built it with your father! You used wood from your fireplace.

BM: Yes, exactly. There was a hundred year old fireplace and we used its wood, then some springs from a motorcycle… It’s been made with lots of litter but I’ve used it throughout my career and I want to keep it ‘til I live.

FF: That’s very touching, beautiful. I’ve heard that during concerts there’s a person whose job is to watch over it. 

BM: Yeah there’s always a babysitter for it! During the concerts I always have it with me of course, but we all take very good care of it and keep our eyes on her, she’s an old lady and needs special attention! 

FF: Your dad was an electrical engineer, right? He realized that yours was a serious business only later in your career... was it in New York? 

BM: Yes, you know it’s always been really hard for him to accept that I wouldn’t carry on with my astronomy studies because I wanted to be a rockstar, and he told me “Why are you wasting it all away to be a rockstar?” -Yes, that's a photo of my dad- It took him a while. We were at Madison Square Garden and after the show he came to me, held my hand, and told me “Now I understand”. It’s been a beautiful moment.

I think we all want to please our parents and I think I managed to do that. 

[Time was running out so Fazio had to change topic.]

FF: Well, we’re speaking to a legend, I’m so happy and starstruck and I thank you with all my heart.

[Continues in part 2]

[hanniiesuckle17]

Stray Kids Reaction: First Kiss

A/n: I hope you like it! I think these turned out super cute! feel free to request again!

Requested by: @tropicalwrites​ (thank you bb)

Tag List: @distrikt9​ @mini-meanhoe​ @poeticallyspaghetti​ (Tag List is open)

Bangchan:

Dates with Chan had been sparse lately. It wasn’t his fault. They were doing promotions for a comeback and Chan had absolutely zero free time and any time he did have, despite his protests, you wanted him to spend resting. “Y/n, please! I wanna see you!” Chan whined over the phone. 

You sighed and looked at the time. The boys were still at the company, but would most likely be at the dorms in an hour or two. “Okay how about this. I’ll come over to the dorms and cook dinner for you and the boys tonight. That way you guys can have dinner as soon as you get home.” There was silence on the phone. “Chan? Chris? You there, love?” 

“Sorry, you just made my heart explode.”  

You laughed and hung up the phone. After a short car ride, you were inside the dorm and cooking a nice dinner for your incredible boyfriend and his band members. The steam from the cooking vegetables were starting to make you sweat a little. Grabbing a clip from your bag you pulled your hair out of your face and continued making the boys a good meal.

“Y/NNNNNNNNN!” Several boys screamed as the dorm door burst open. You smiled and finished putting food on plates. Felix attacked you with a hug and Hyunjin and Jisung followed soon after. “This looks really good, Y/n,” Felix said when everyone was seated at the table, Chan beside you. “I’m glad to have a break from cooking for these weirdos.” 

Soon Chan was sending all the boys off to bed with full bellies and food comas. “I’ve missed you so much,” He said taking your hands and sitting on the arm of the couch. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to see you and talk to you, to hold you, and... other things,” Chan said blushing. 

“What kind of other things?” 

Chan looked down and shrugged, his dimples making a shy appearance. You watched him play with your fingers, subconsciously pulling you closer to him. It didn’t take a psychic to know what was on his mind. With a smile, you leaned down and pressed your lips against his. He smiled into the kiss, his thumb rubbing over your skin. When you pulled away Chan had the dopiest grin across his face. He fell back onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling in a trance making you laugh.

“That was so awesome.” 

Minho:

Minho sat next to you on the couch. He wasn’t necessarily close to you, but he wasn’t on the farthest side of the sofa either. The boys had been hinting that maybe your feelings for Minho were reciprocated. You had been reading into everything lately and you still came up with nothing. Minho was impossible.

The focus of the boy next to you was heavily trained on his phone. Some random game was enticing his attention away from you. Giving up, you crossed your arms and stared at the TV. 

After letting out many precisely planned sighs hoping to grab Minho’s attention and failing you conceded and started flipping channels. Settling for a drama you watched the soap opera romance that played out on the screen. An hour passed and your stomach was beginning to growl. 

“I’m gonna order a pizza.” You said pulling out your phone. Minho hummed in response. rolling your eyes you walked into the kitchen to grab a soda for you and the thick headed boy in your living room. The doorbell rang and you looked to the couch. Minho showed no sign of getting up still zoned in on his phone. “Don’t worry I’ll get it.” Your feet trudged over the door and you gave the pizza guy a half assed smile. 

“Hi! That will be $22.46.” The boy smiled when you handed him the money as well as a nice tip. “Thanks, have a good night!” 

You closed the door and plopped back onto the couch setting the pizza on the coffee table. A hand grabbed your wrist before you could open the hot cardboard box. Minho smashed his lips on yours, hand coming to the back of your neck. He pushed you onto the couch, hovering on top of you. Caught up in the moment your hands tangled in his hair enticing Minho to deepen the kiss.  

As quickly as he had come onto you, he retreated, moving back to his previous spot on the couch and reaching for the pizza. You lay on the couch, completely confused. “What the hell was that?” Minho shrugged acting as if nothing had happened.

“What?” He picked up a slice and took a bite out of it. “I’m not allowed to kiss my girlfriend?”

You shook your head in disbelief. What? “Girlfr- What? When did this happen?” Again he shrugged like this was common knowledge you were the dumbest person on the planet, and you were starting to feel that way. He thought you were dating already?

“Y/n, you’ve cat-sitted for me at least twenty times. In my book, we are in a committed relationship after ten.” He handed you a slice of pizza and turned back to the TV. You watched as he threw an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. “Congrats on being my girlfriend, dummy.”

Changbin:

“Seo Lewis Changbin!”

“Oh no.” Your best friend mumbled. He took off his headphones and turned to see you marching through the door of his studio. The pissed off expression on your face said everything and also nothing. Changbin only had a matter of seconds to recount everything he had done in the last twenty-four hours and apologize or face the consequences. “Hi, gorgeous, how’s your day?” 

You simply rose an eyebrow and he quickly shut up. “Changbin, do you have something to tell me?” You could see the gears turning in his brain. The gears screaming ‘what did I do wrong this time’. 

It was honestly a little fun to watch him squirm. You crossed your arms and ignored the giggles coming from the other side of the studio door. You knew Felix and Seungmin had followed you down the hall. They were the ones who told you about Changbin in the first place. “I’m sorry that I used your sweatshirt to clean up Minho’s cat piss. But you can have my hoodie.”

“YOU WHAT?”

He screamed as my hands attacked any unshielded spot on his body. “Stop! STOP! I BRUISE EASILY!” You huffed and stepped away. Changbin rubbed his bicep as if you had actually hurt him. “I’m sorry okay!” He scorched farther away from you. Though you had gotten him to confess it wasn’t the secret you were looking for. 

“While I am pissed about that, and you will be getting me a new hoodie, that isn’t what I was talking about.” Changbin watched with wary eyes as you inched forward and leaned on the arms of his office chair. “I had a little conversation with Seungmin and Felix earlier.” Changbin visibly gulped.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“They sold me out?”

“They did indeed.” Changbin’s ears turned a dark shade of red. How you had never noticed your effect on your best friend before you would never know. Possibly because you were too focused on your own infatuation. Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his, capturing them in a sweet kiss. Tilting your head you let your teeth drag slowly across Changbin’s bottom lip. 

“Was that like a friend kiss or-?” Changbin asked when you pulled away. You rolled your eyes and kissed him again before he could ask another stupid question.

Hyunjin:

Hyunjin was walking you home after a late night boba date. His hand was intertwined with yours as you walked in the warm spring air. “When is your next free day?” You asked swinging your hands as you strolled down the dimly lit streets. You felt safe with your boyfriend next to you.

He hummed, head lifting to the sky in thought. “I think...two weeks from now?” You sighed and he brought your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “I know, baby.” It was hard not seeing Hyunjin. He himself was having withdrawal issues from your company and the boys were starting to notice. His dating ban wasn’t up for another three months, so the two of you had to sneak around. 

“What about nights?” He shooked his head ‘no’ and stopped under a street lamp. Leaning you back against the steel pole, you looked up at Hyunjin. “What about before morning meetings?” Hyunjin laughed, the sound making you smile.

He ran a hand through his blonde hair and dragged his touch down your arm. “Y/n, you and I both know neither of us are going to get up at four thirty in the morning.” You laughed and pulled Hyunjin closer to you, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Hyunjin gave you a soft smile and looked down at you. He made your heart pound in your chest. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it two weeks without you, Jinnie.” He sighed, nuzzling into your neck. 

“Believe me, if you can’t then I definitely won’t.” You ran a hand through his soft hair making him sigh in content. Eventually, he pulled away and stared at you with longing. His eyes looked from your eyes to your mouth in question. After seeing the smallest nod he leaned in pressing his lips against yours. 

You smiled into the kiss, threading your fingers through Hyunjin’s hair. He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. “What if I just ran away with you right now?” 

“Jisung would absolutely murder you. You’re supposed to record tomorrow.” You said a little breathless, wanting his lips on yours again. 

“True. Very true.” He came back, another fiery kiss being shared between you. His tongue swiped across your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth. The two of you savored your last moments together under the dim golden glow of the street lamp.

Jisung:

“Hey, handsome,” You answered your ringing phone. 

Jisung’s tired voice came through the call. “Y/n, baby, can you come over to the dorm?” You checked your watch and saw it was almost 2:30 in the afternoon. Usually, he was at the studio until three in the morning. 

“Sure. I’ll be there in like ten minutes.” Slipping on a big hoodie and your shoes you grabbed your wallet and car keys and drove over to the dorms. When you got there most of the boys were in the kitchen or the common room. “Hi guys! Where’s Jisung?”

Chan waved and gave you a hug. “Oh- he’s in his room. Top bunk.” The boys waved as you walked by and you knocked quietly on the last door. A muffled voice belonging to your boyfriend told you to come in. You saw a single sweatpant covered leg hanging off one of the top bunks. Jisung’s head peeked over the side and he gave you a smile.

“Hi!” He said sleepily. Your sock feet padded over to the bed and you looked at him from over the side. “You wanna take a nap with me?” There was no helping the laugh that escaped. 

“You called me just to take a nap with you?” He nodded, his eyes already droopy. It looked like he was waiting to fall asleep until you arrived. With a sigh, you began climbing up the ladder and Jisung lifted up the covers giving you a place to lay on his chest. “This is a tiny bed.” 

“Shhhh. It’s nap time baby.” 

Eventually, the both of you fell asleep. It was easy to relax in Jisung’s arms. He radiated warmth with his arms and legs wrapped around you. Soon your eyes blinked open only to find a dark room. You reached over Jisung to grab his phone. You looked to see it was nearing 11 o’clock at night. “What’s wrong, babe?” Jisung mumbled feeling you move. You told him the time and he laughed. “There’s no point in you leaving, so why don’t you just spend the night?” He whispered.

He smiled feeling you nod and he started running his long fingers through your hair. In the low light, you could only barely make up the features of Jisung’s face. You were only slightly surprised to feel Jisung’s lips on yours. The kiss was slow and sleepy, but sweet none the less. Your hands already around his stomach slipped under his shirt., feeling his warm skin. 

Sleepy kisses were exchanged, Jisung’s long fingers playing with your hair and holding you close in the dark. He pulled you on top of him, leaving no space between you. After a while, the both of you fell back asleep and didn’t wake until morning

Felix:

Felix got a running start before launching himself off the cliff and into the water. You watched from the shore of the little alcove the two of you had found. You cheered seeing your boyfriend resurface in the center of the clear watering hole. “You gonna try?” He called, treading water. You shook your head, and he rolled his eyes. “Come on, there’s a smaller ledge, closer to the water.” 

You looked to the rock face Felix had climbed moments earlier. The colors of green and blue were vibrant around you, making your own little paradise. “Fine.” Felix smiled, seeing you shed your coverup and began swimming back to the shore. He took your hand and led you to a smaller ledge half as high as the one he had previously jumped off of. The waterfall roared next to you and Felix laced his fingers with yours.

“Ready?” You nodded, a nervous smile on the corner of your mouth. You were comforted seeing Felix’s grin. “3, 2,..1!” The two of you leaped from the ledge and into the cool clear water, screams escaping as you fell. Felix held onto your hand tightly as the two of you sank beneath the water’s surface. “Wasn’t that fun?” He exclaimed as the two of you swam above the surface. 

“Yeah, okay. That was fun.”

Felix smiled as the two of you treaded water. “You wanna do something else fun?” Before you could answer Felix started swimming to the waterfall. Trusting him, you followed. He gently took your hand, lifting you up on the slippery rocks. He led the two of you carefully behind heavy curtain of water into a tiny cave. The roaring of the falls echoed in the small space, obstructing your view of your secret alcove. 

“Wow!” You said, reaching your hand under the water. Felix grinned, wet hair falling in front of his eyes. Stepping carefully, he made his way over to you wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Your eyes widened at his bluntness, but you nodded palms resting against his bare chest. Hesitantly, Felix leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was slow at first, then picked up as Felix grew more confident. His lips danced against yours, one of his hands coming to tangle in your hair. The two of you parted, breathe heavy and lovestruck grins plastered on your faces.

Felix pulled away and started to do a little dance making you laugh. “What the hell are you doing?” He just continued to do his weird little dance as you watched and laughed at your dorky boyfriend behind the waterfall.

Seungmin:

Two weeks after Seungmin and you started dating, he and the rest of the boys left for a US tour.  Thankfully his dating ban had been lifted early after an analysis by the company, so Seungmin was free to spend time with you anytime he wanted as long as it didn’t interfere with his schedules. 

Your fingers tapped against your steering wheel. The red light turned green and you drove the rest of the way to the airport. Chan called you early this morning, about two hours ago, and told you their flight was getting in at five-thirty in the morning. You yawned, pulling into Seoul International Airport. Seungmin had called you the night before and told you not to bother meeting him since they would be arriving so early in the morning. But, you were determined.

After asking an attendant she directed you the flight gate the boys would be coming from. The sign you had made in the last hour, was bumping up against your legs as you ran through the cold airport. Seungmin’s sweatshirt was blocking the cold air from hitting your skin as you looked for gate A6. 

A few other people were waiting as you approached the gate, but you pushed your way to the front. Your eyes frantically searched the sea of people as passengers came off the plane. Spotting Chan’s curly frizzy hair you held up your sign with a huge grin on your face. 

Chan spotted you first and then laughed at your sign. He called back into the group of boys behind him, who all turned to look at you. Before you knew it, your boyfriend was pushing himself to the front of the group and he laughed when he saw your sign, falling to the ground and covering his face. 

‘Welcome Home Hot Stuff’ the sign read with a funny meme of Seungmin that Felix had sent you a couple days ago glue on the poster board. Not wanting to be apart from you anymore Seungmin ran over and wrapped you up in his arms. “Y/n, I have missed you so much. Why are you here? It’s 5:30! Is this my sweatshirt? I can’t believe you’re here! Honey, I’ve missed you so much-”

You smashed your lips against his cutting off his ramblings. After getting over the shock, Seungmin kissed you back, dropping everything in his hands. He cupped your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks. Your head was spinning in the best way possible. “Welcome home, Minnie.” You whispered against his lips, making him smile. 

“Let’s go get breakfast.” He said with a smile and took the sign from you, looking at your craft project. 

Jeongin:

Jeongin and you lay on the floor of your dorm room a board game between the two of you. Rain pelted against your window, thunder rolling outside. Jeongin moved his game piece six spaces before looking up at you with a smile. You sat with a mug of warm tea in your hands and Jeongin’s hoodie swallowing you in warmth. 

“You are too cute,” Jeongin mumbled, leaning his cheek into his palm. 

Attempting to hide your blush, you brought the steaming cup up to your mouth and took a sip. “Jeongin, really you don’t have to stay here. I’m no scared of the storm.” He shrugged and rolled the dice for you, moving it four spaces. You got up, the sweatshirt falling over your shorts. The mug clunked against the wood as you set it on your desk. 

Jeongin watched you walk over and pulled you down into his lap. “What if I’m the one scared of the storm?” He questioned, pushing a piece of hair away from your face. Rolling your eyes you giggled and kissed his cheek. “Okay, you’re right. I’m not scared of the storm.” 

“Innie, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. My roommate is staying at her boyfriend’s.” 

Jeongin smiled, placing a loving kiss on the side of your neck. He reached over and rolled the dice as lightning flashed outside. The cold air of the dorm made you snuggled deeper into the warm fabric of Jeongin’s hoodie. Sensing movement in his lap he wrapped a protective arm around you as he moved his game piece with his other hand. 

“I think I’m going to win in the next two moves.” You said, causing your boyfriend to turn his head. He looked at you with raised brows and laughed.

“Oh really?” 

You nodded and moved your piece to the final block on the board. “Yep. I win.” Jeongin laughed and looked into your eyes. His knuckles brushed over your cheek his breath ghosting over your lips. You inched forward, desperately wanting to close the small gap between you. A smirk tilted on the corner of Jeongin’s mouth, seeing your impatience. 

Softly, gently, his lips pressed against yours. His lips tasted like coffee, and he smelled like the rain that was falling outside. You dragged your lips against his savoring every moment with him. As you pulled away Jeongin chases after your lips, making you giggle. 

Your eyes looked to the window and Jeongin trailed his lips tenderly down your jaw, before resting his chin on your shoulder. “You stand corrected.” He whispered, kissing your lips again. “I win.” 

Requests are open lovelies! Just send an ask!

Masterlist

[that-bi-bitch-writes]

Wanda + Vision +[Name??]

So I wrote this all just now and I wanted to actually follow the entire Wandavision series so this should be done after 9 maybe 10 chapters. This chapter is very very very awkward and I did that on purpose because I wanted to write in the style of an outsider who is describing what’s happening.

If you watch Wandavision you know there are times when you’re watching Wanda’s show and times when you’re watching the miniseries on Disney + and it’s usually signified but the borderlines on the tv. Well I don’t have borderlines but I can switch up writing styles. When it’s awkward think of the parts that Wanda has edited and aired on tv herself. Almost as if sometimes I(as the author) am on the outside of the hex.

There are very minor changes to the original details so you can skim if you’d like but then ending from the weird spacing part down is important.I hope you Enjoy!

Chapter One: Filmed in front of a live studio audience.

The Screen is in black and white as a theme song plays over a montage of a car driving into town. In it sits a man in a suit and woman in a white dress. From the sign and the cans dragging from the back of the car, the two driving are a cute and apparently newlywed couple.

“A newlywed couple just moved to town. A regular husband and wife who left the big city to find a new life. Wanda Vision”

The man, apparently Vision, steps out of the car as his wife Wanda points toward the house’s for sale sign and zaps it so it says sold. He lifts her in his arms and carries her towards the door but phases through as she drops on the ground shaking her head in disapproval with a smile on her face.

“She’s a magical cal in a small town locale. He’s a homie who’s part machine. How will these two fit in...”

Vision opens the door and picks Wanda up once again. He successfully phases through a small chair while holding her in his arms. Vision puts Wanda down and they begin to dance as the credits roll over their faces. 

“Wanda Vision” the theme song finishes as the screen fades to black. The scene changes and Wanda points at several things and they begin to levitate in the style of an old time visual effect. As she puts the levitating plates away Vision walks through the kitchen with his nose in the newspaper. A plate crashes over his head.

“My wife and her flying saucers”

“My husband and his indestructible head” cue the laugh track.

Wanda reads off the menu of a human man’s dreams as vision stares boredly into the newspaper. He reminds her she doesn’t eat. She jokes.

“Wanda?”

“Hmm”

“Is there something special about today?”

“Well I know the apron was a bit much dear but I am doing my best to blend in”

“No no there on the calendar someone’s drawn a little heart. Right above today’s date”

“Oh yes the heart.” Her voice pitches “Well don’t tell me you’ve forgotten Vis.”

“Forgotten? Oh Wanda I’m incapable of forgetting I remember everything and that’s not an exaggeration. In fact, I’m incapable of exaggeration.

The two go back and forth as it becomes more and more obvious that neither one of them knows what’s going on. To get out of the conversation Vision heads to work and Wanda reminds him of his robotic look. He shakes his face as sparkles appear. He heads off to work and Wanda comes closer to the calendar. It is August 23rd and she just can’t seem to remember what’s going to happen. She hears a knocking noise before the screen glitches. No picture comes up but a distinct phrase can be heard. “Happy Birthday to me”

The picture clears up and Wanda is interacting with a cheerful woman who introduces herself as Agnes. Agnes jokes with Wanda and presents her a plant before asking Wanda questions that just can’t seem to be answered. Not without magic of course. Questions about the occupants of the home, how things became so settled and why the date could be so special to the newlyweds. Agnes asks if it’s a birthday and Wanda refuses assuredly although she is very wrong. With Agnes’ prompting Wanda decides it is her anniversary and should do something special to keep Vision happy. Wanda agrees.

Vision is seen finishing work as he attempts to fit in, but he finishes his workload so quickly it is kind of odd. His coworker Norm stares in astonishment and offers to help Vision in any way. Vision in his confusion wants to know what exactly they do there. He seems to just know what to do at certain moments but he doesn’t know how or why. It is kind of… odd. Norm and Vision go through a pointless conversation because neither of them know exactly what is going on and Vision reacts poorly to one of Norm’s jokes. In his solution Norm asks Vision to vent his frustrations. In the middle of their conversation Vision’s boss Mr Hart tells Vision he is excited for their dinner because if it doesn’t go well Vision will be fired. Vision assumes that is what the heart is for and assures him everything will go smoothly before looking off in worry.

Wanda and Agnes are discussing what Wanda can do to enhance their anniversary evening. Wanda rightly inquires about the seduction techniques she should be putting into place. The phone rings and Wanda and Vision begin talking about their plans for the evening. Vision says he’s nervous for the evening and Wanda feels flattered. Vision suggests that the evening is of utmost importance and Wanda gets nervous implying that it is only one night. The two seem to think they are on the same page but neither of them is reading the right book. Wanda seems to think a seduction technique is required, and Vision assumes his wife is waiting at home ready to impress his boss. 

Vision arrives home with the Harts and calls out to Wanda who comes around in a shawl and places her hands over Mr Hart’s eyes. It isn’t until Vision comes out of the kitchen that she realizes her mistake. They clumsily cover Wanda’s mistake by implying it is from her European culture. Mr Hart implies that he is hostile towards communist Europeans and his wife chides him. Wanda and Vision meet in the kitchen to straighten out their misunderstandings. Vision is obviously really intrigued by Wanda’s outfit and keeps circling back to it. Wanda realizes there needs to be a home cooked meal on the table. Flashing a dress onto her body she calls over Agnes to bring over some food.

Mr Hart and Vision are chatting in the living room and Mrs Hart gets a little antsy hoping to help Wanda in the kitchen so she’d have something to do while the boys talk business. Agnes makes a lot of noise in the kitchen so Mrs Hart is very inclined to help. After Wanda shows Agnes out Mrs Hart opens the shutters to the kitchen. Vision draws her attention by singing. Not horribly but very obviously strained. By singing he entertains Mrs Hart but Mr Hart is not at all please. Wanda becomes overwhelmed and her powers start to cause accidents. She forgets things and shouts leaving Vision to cover for her. He comes into the kitchen to help as Wanda switches out with him. The Hart’s are starved and do not feel very happy with their visit to Wanda and Vision’s household. Wanda very poorly distracts them and Agnes knocks on the door causing further confusion.

Wanda walks into the kitchen with a mind to fix everything. She magics up breakfast for dinner and serves it up as Mr Hart begins to doubt vision and doubt his management skills. Everything is done just in time and all four sit down to eat. Mrs Hart goes on a similar line of questioning like Agnes and asks Wanda questions she simply does not have the answer to, like how long they’ve been married, why the move and why they don’t have children. Neither Wanda or vision can answer the questions and Mr Hart escalates the situation by continuously questioning the newlyweds. Mrs Hart tries to deescalate the situation but is no help. As Mr Hart becomes more and more indignant he chokes. As if he’s joking Mrs Hart demands he stop it. 

The longer the choking goes on the perspective changes. Mrs Hart no longer demands her husband stop and turns to Wanda as she pleads. Her smile does not change but it doesn’t reach her eyes. The camera pans to a confused Vision, then Wanda and back to Mrs Hart. Wanda asks Vision to help Mr Hart and he phases his hand through the man’s throat to pull out a chocolate covered strawberry. The ones Wanda left in the kitchen before preparing dinner. When he recovers the Harts leave. Mrs Hart ushering them out with a joke. Suddenly Mr Hart is proud of Vision and suggests Vision may be getting a promotion. The Harts interaction with Wanda is strange but with Vision they talk almost normally. When the two finally leave, Wanda sighs and Vision reverts to his normal form.

Wanda points out that the two of them are an unusual couple that don’t have an anniversary or a song or wedding rings. They designate August 23rd as their anniversary. Their song becomes yakkity yak. Vision asks Wanda to make them rings and when she waves her finger they get rings dedicated to each other and say I do. They kiss and Vision presses a button and the live studio audience cheers them on. The credits appear to roll as Wanda and Vision’s faces are framed in a hexagon. Then the music suddenly stops and they look at each other. Almost as if her magic was delayed another set of rings appear on their fingers and their front door opens.

“Happy Birthday to me and Happy Anniversary to you my loves”

Wanda looks at the door in surprise and alarm. Vision has another one of those moments where he just knows exactly what to do and turns towards the door. He uses Wanda’s hand to help her up off the couch and leads her to the door. She follows trusting her husband. Vision walks up to the man and using his free hand to grab the man’s face he leans in and kisses him.

“Happy Birthday [Name]. I love you”

[Name] turns toward Wanda and gives her a brilliant smile. “Happy Anniversary Wanda.” 

Wanda is confused yet charmed and she thinks about the second ring on her finger. She looks [Name] in the eyes and smiles a genuine smile. “Happy Birthday [Name]” and as she leans in to give him a kiss, the cameras fade to black. 

[ramoth13]

Hi, I saw your post about giving the Amazon LOTR show a chance. Wondering what your thoughts were on the showrunners saying they're trying to write "the novel that Tolkien never wrote"? Because to me that makes them seem extremely arrogant. IMO it's not possible to separate Amazon from the directors of TROP, because the whole thing is Bezos' brainchild- he hired the showrunners to make the show for him. It's not like he just happens to be financing it. Just my two cents, wonder what you think.

Mae g'ovannen, mellon nin!

Hey! Thanks for the comment, I sincerely appreciate it. We need more friendly discussion in places like this.

So, I think that quote is something that should be given context, because without context it does sound bad. The thing is, Tolkien never wrote the story of the Numenorians and the forging of the rings. But not because he didn't want to. When he originally set out to write the Lord of the Rings, he wanted to publish The Lord of the Rings AND a version of what we now know is The Silmarillion, side by side. However, the publishers took one glance at his ultra unwieldy, freaky history book and said absolutely not. He never got to tell that story, but not because he didn't want to. Christopher T, on the other hand, goes through the writings and publishes (posthumously) a highly edited and revised version, but again, this is the history book we all know and love but not what the Professor would have done (he was constantly changing things and making huge edits until his death).

Now that's not to say the book isn't a masterpiece, I wrote my master's thesis on it and I will absolutely say it's my favorite book in the world, but that doesn't change the fact that Chistopher had to heavily edit and change what was written to make the coherent story we know. The Professor simply left too many loose ends and changes without revisions to earlier sections (hence the 12 volumes of The Histories of Middle-Earth).

Tolkien's lifelong dream was to use the Silmarillion as a roadmap to write the novels of the stories we read about in that book of history, which is where Christopher got the materials to "finish" The Fall of Gondolin, The Lay of Luthian, and The Children of Hurin. But one novel that is conspicuously absent from that trio is the story of Numenor and the forging of the rings.

Thus, when they say that they are making "the novel that Tolkien never wrote" they mean that this is supposed to be a down to earth telling of the Numenorian story and the story of the forging of the rings, like Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings or The Hobbit books. However, I don't think they mean that they are going to do something that the professor was incapable of doing, rather they are trying to do what he was unable to. He had so many stories started and left undone (one wonders at what he could have written given time). I would have loved to read his version of the Fall of Fingolfin, but alas...

As for Bezos's brainchild, I think there are two things to consider. First, the Tolkien estate sold the rights to this story (with extremely heavy constrictions/demands on what could and could not be done with the story) for an insane sum of money. The most, in fact, for any TV show ever made. The fact is, the way it was set up, there were very few people in the world who could have even attempted to make this show. Considering the price tag, only one of a few dozen could even try. If it wasn't Amazon, it would have been one of the other mega-studios, and other studios did have the chance to outbid Amazon in the purchase. Now someone might say "No one should have made this into a TV show at all" which is an argument I understand, but not one I have much to say on. And the second thing to consider is that the Tolkien estate could have said no (and has, many, many times before).

Now, money does not automatically equal a good show and there are many things that could go wrong, I'll grant you. But the one thing this show has going for it is that this story (more than all of the previous Tolkien adaptations that came before it, Peter Jackson's movies included) is heavily controlled by Tolkienian elements (the Tolkien estate has the power to veto any script elements, it's in the contract, then there are the scholars on deck as mentioned, etc.). Though Tom Shippey left the project because of a breach of contract involving an NDA fairly recently, I know he spent much time with the project and had a hand in many of the elements we will see. He's an incredible Tolkien scholar and just one of a few on board.

Bezos, with all of the money in the world (almost literally), cannot control the story and that gives me hope.

With that hope in mind, I recently read an article that many Tolkien scholars and fans (including The Tolkien Professor himself, Corey Olsen) were able to view a small portion of the show and I'll let you see what they said for yourself here,

All of that to say, I'm not saying this show will be good, I have no idea, in truth. But I think (and hope, oh how I hope) that there are enough people working on the show that realize these stories will not be taken lightly by the fans and longtime middle-earth enthusiasts and therefore, will do all that they can to do it right.

But again, it's all about hope. As one famous poet once said, "hope is the thing with feathers"

Here's to hoping it flies high above the Shadows of Mordor and the smoke rising from the dungeons and forges Angband.

Ná Elbereth veria le, ná elenath dín síla erin rád o chuil lín.

~ ramoth13

[rebeccalouisaferguson]

Dune actress Rebecca Ferguson: "What happened to me is unusual"

It's in the middle of summer when I meet Rebecca Ferguson via Zoom, she's in a hotel room in London, I'm on holiday in northern Uppland. It is said that the interview will take place in English, which feels very odd, especially as we have known each other for ten years. Do you want from the production company to keep track of what she says? Do you think that in Swedish I should ask improper questions? I do not know, but okay then, we do the interview in English instead of starting to fuss.

The production company just mentioned is behind the current feature film Dune. It's a sci-fi movie with a complicated plot, so we'll leave it there. However, we can talk about the fact that in the film she plays the mother of Timothée Chalamet (known from the hit Call me by your name), who in reality is twelve years younger than she is. Rebecca is silent for a few seconds and then says:

- You know, magic on screen magic.

Another costar is Stellan Skarsgård, who plays a grotesquely fat evil man. I tell her that Stellan has seen the film and that he says that Rebecca is brilliant in the role.

- Oh my God. He. Stellan's game. His appearance, he is grotesque, strangely sexual and beautiful. He's amazing!

Rebecca is now used to playing against not only Swedish icons, but also against megastars such as Tom Cruise, Hugh Jackman, Meryl Streep, Hugh Grant, Michael Fassbender and Emily Blunt. It is difficult to understand that just  ten years ago she considered giving up her acting career - she lived in Simrishamn, had been in the TV soap Nia Tider and made small roles in some movies. A random meeting at a market in his hometown changed everything.

Director Richard Hobert was looking for an actress for his upcoming film A One-Way Trip To Antibes. He writes in an email:

"There is a shimmer around Rebecca, a charisma that makes her appear in a crowd. That was when I suddenly saw her among all the tourists at a flea market in Simrishamn in the summer of 2011. It was a strange experience because I had searched in my memory for several weeks for the name of a young unknown actress that I saw in a TV soap a few years earlier and captured by. I was convinced that she would be right for the female lead in A One Way Trip to Antibes. And then she suddenly stood in front of me in the market. After a audition, the role was undoubtedly hers."

The film received good reviews, a foreign agent caught the eye of Rebecca and not too long after that she had tested for and got the lead role in the BBC series The white queen. Result: a Golden Globe nomination and a career abroad that began to go straight up with rocket speed. She got the female lead in Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation. Anyone who has seen her enter that film wearing a long, yellow dress will not forget it, nor her contribution to the film's action scenes. Great success - and for the first time, a female actress returned in the next Mission impossible film. Mission impossible: Fallout was also a great success, and sometime in the next year comes Mission impossible 7, where Rebecca will return again. She will also be in MI: 8.

- I do not know when that shooting will begin. The pandemic has meant that the seven is not quite ready yet, and once it is, many will probably need a long break before they start filming again, she says.

Ten years ago she lived in Simrishamn with her partner Ludwig and their son Isac. She had bought an old windmill, which she wanted to restore. When she and Ludwig separated, he kept the mill, and Rebecca bought a large farm with large plots of land that year. At that time she told me:

- I buy old things that fit into the house and I build there. I love working with my hands, but it's hard to find antique floorboards. And it's expensive.

But now she has sold the farm.

- It was very sad to have to do it, but I'm at the wrong age and I do not live there. I was simply not ready to buy a big house and lots of land, it should be owned by someone who really lives there. My plans were to create a farm, but I'm not there.

Rebecca about moving to London with her new family

- I love Simrishamn, my son lives there and I have a place in the city. But now London is my home.

With her family, husband Rory (his last name is still unknown and asked about his profession, she has answered "entrepreneur") and daughter Saga, Rebecca lives in Richmond, a affluent neighborhood close to the garden mecca Kew Gardens, the Thames and Pinewood Studios where many movies recorded.

- Previously,  I had to live in an apartment in Notting Hill, but I am not a city person. In Richmond I have the park and I often rent a boat and go out and row on the Thames.

How does she view her "journey" today, from thinking about giving up on a career to being a sought-after world star a decade later?

- What happened to me is unusual. But I rarely stop and think. I'm moving forward. I'm lucky enough to get great deals and they take time. I never thought this would be possible, but it has just continued. I'm lucky to have this much work.

During the pandemic, she has both worked and been free (the recording of MI: 7 was shut down for five weeks). She has visited Sweden, she has lived at home in Richmond. Filming with all the restrictions it entailed has been "inconvenient".

- Very impersonal, very much packed in plastic. But it's a pandemic. We have been able to film. I do not complain. I do not understand how people dare to complain. We are lucky, we have a job. I have basically been filming since August last year, with MI: 7 and with extra scenes for Dune. And now you and I can sit here and talk to each other, though not in the same room, and create memories.

translated from swedish for @rebeccalouisaferguson

[inknopewetrust]

adieu, remember me. (1)

The Old Guard Booker x Female! Original Character

Summary: After a few years away, one member of the immortal team must return to protect their immortality and secrets as enemies begin to uncover their past.

Word Count: 1.6k 

Warnings: nothing yet!

Parts: ... | 2 | part 2 coming soon!

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think about the work and it will def be more than 2 or 3 parts and longer than this one. Requests are CLOSED at the moment and I apologize in advance for any mis-wording or spelling in different languages because I don’t know french/italian but I feel in some cases it was necessary to use for character interactions. Published on 8/9/2020.

if you want to be tagged for the next part please let me know!

All original content is owned by me. Anything from the film/comic is property of the writers, studio, and director. Gif not by me.

Versailles evolves every so often but over 172 odd years, more visitors pack its halls and recall its history. Tourists from around the world flock to the once functional palace and the home of infamous, complicated monarchs. Passed the sweeping halls and the paintings of untouchable status, a special exhibit was placed at the end of the hall with cases full of crowned jewels of French royalty.

Tourists flashed photos of crowns and rings and pearls that adorned the exhibit cases. In the center of the room laid perhaps the most famous of jewels, as well as the crowns that found themselves on the heads of women who suffered terrible fates. The Hope Diamond sat in a case between crowns that once adorned it and worn by Marie Antoinette and Louis Philippe I’s controversial daughter, Vivienne, Duchess of Auvergne. On loan from its final resting place at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C., the diamond once found itself imbedded in each of the crowns on momentous occasions.

Crown worn by Vivienne, Duchess of Auvergne and third daughter of King Louis Philippe, killed by French revolutionaries in February 1848. Crown was commissioned by the King for his daughter’s twenty-eighth birthday. Was worn on the night of her death on 24th of February, 1848.

Twenty-eight. 172 years later she still remember the party, the food, the smell of the candles that burned from the chandelier and the man who caught her heart. Pretentious was the only word that came to mind when she thought of the party and the woman. At the time she felt deception too but the world has a funny way of making villains look like heroes depending on the perspective.

Clara felt the surge of memories remind her of the life she knew before the one she was in now. She didn’t know how long she had stood in front of that particular case with that particular diamond and crown but by the time her feet began to ache she knew it had been long enough. Clara also wasn’t sure how long a small English girl had been standing next to her, also staring at the silver diamond encrusted crown and the plaque underneath it.

“You know, she’s kind of a rebel and I dig it. It reminds me of Princess Margaret in a way. She was Queen Elizabeth’s sister and she partied a lot too.”

“Excuse me?”

“Vivienne. She was a rebel in her own right and I admire her for it.” The woman turned, her face meeting the girl taking notes on a piece of paper. The girl couldn’t have been more than thirteen and certainly had a bold personality if she was talking to someone she didn’t know.

“The revolutionaries didn’t see it that way, so why would you?”

“She was independent. I think it was progressive and cool for her not to follow the rules of her family. Not to mention the glamour in her style. She had the best dresses and crowns since well, Marie Antoinette probably.”

“That’s a little naïve, no?” The woman raised her brow at the student but the girl simply shrugged. The young one looked at the older woman and analyzed her face and features as she spoke.

“She spent the people’s money like water and saw no problem with the poverty in the streets. Vivienne was oblivious to the world around her because she lived in a world of riches with everyone at her disposal.”

“Perhaps.” The girl paused before continuing. “There’s a tv show about her on... um-I don’t remember- HBO maybe and they say she took a commoner for a lover and he sold her secrets to the revolutionaries which led to her death. Her body disappeared after the broke into the castle and people think they threw her body in the Seine.”

“I would advise you to stop watching whatever movies are giving you that perspective on the issue because it’s not true.” Clara scoffed and turned away from the girl.

The girl listened but was too entranced by the figure in front of her eyes. Brown hair, medium length, waved. She looked nice to say the least. She had on pretty clothes and may have been an employee because she knew so much but the girl wasn’t sure. All the student was certain of was that the woman standing in front of her looked very much like the Duchess in the paintings that lined the modern wing.

“You look like her.” The girl told her and she put her pencil down holding the pad of paper at her side. Before she had a chance to answer the girl, a teacher called out to the students as a signal to leave and the girl picked up her bag.

“Have a nice day.”

The girl left with the class and the woman stayed in front of the case watching them leave the room before turning back to the crown that once adorned her own head. A soft rumble came from her pocket and she pulled out the burner phone with a number she didn’t recognize but an area code she did, Goussainville.

France, safe house #4

“Hello?”

“Clara.” The Italian on the other line sounded relieved that she simply picked up the phone. Clara’s face contorted into one of worry than one of happiness she had been called.

“Nicolo, s’il tu plaît dites-moi que tout va bien?” Clara moved over to a window, away from the crowds to answer the call she had been anticipating for the last day. She dreamt of a black girl and her throat being sliced open. Waking up gasping for breath that wasn’t her own and cautious of who it might be.

“No-no. Il y en a un nouveau ... mais ce n'est pas le problème. les gens essaient de nous trouver et Dieu sait quoi.” Nicky told her and Clara felt helpless, disappointed in herself that she wasn’t there to help them. Not only was there someone new who needed guidance but the others needed her too if they were going to protect their own skin.

“Andy went to get her. We are at the safe house in Goussainville and they should be here later today. If you can make it... we really need you, Clara.” Clara sighed and looked out the window that faced the vast gardens the palace was surrounded by. Serenity before the inevitable storm.

“He’d kill me if he knew I’m telling you this but Booker needs you. It’s getting worse since the last time he saw you and I am not sure what to do.”

“That was three weeks ago, Nicky.”

“I can’t explain it... it’s just gotten worse. I know he has to help himself but he’s always a bit brighter when you’re around.”

“I can be there later tonight. What time are they getting in?”

“7.”

“I can be there at 8. I’m in France so I’ll take a train as soon as I can.”

“We will be waiting.” Nicky told her and she hung up the phone. Clara looked back at that glimmering crown and what the young girl said about the Duchess. Naïvety at its finest.

At the safe house in Gousssainville, the three immortal men unpacked the bag they brought and washed up after the ambush in Afghanistan. Nicky stood alongside the small counter space prepping dinner when Booker came to fill a cup with wine.

“Who was on the phone?” Booker asked in a low grumble and Nicky set down the knife he was using to slice tomatoes.

“It was Clara. I called her and told her we needed her here. She dreamt of the girl too.”

“And?” Booker pushed further and downed his glass in an instant upon the news.

“She could catch a train to be here at 8.”

“How did she sound?”

“Worried.”

Booker nodded and filled his glass again before going to sit in front of the tv in a chair he had designated as his own many years ago. Nicky watched as he sat, drank more and tried to remove himself from his thoughts but was too lost to do so. He was observant and cared deeply for the others in his life but there was only so much he could do for a man as stubborn as Booker.

“Hai bisogno di aiuto?” Joe called out to Nicky from everyone’s shared bedroom before also joining the two in the common space. Nicky shook his head and glanced at Booker who wasn’t looking but certainly listening.

“I called Clara. She is on her way to us now. She knows we are in trouble.” Joe smiled at Nicky and gave him a quick peck. While they were all very close, Joe and Nicky had taken Clara under their wings and helped her acclimate to the world as an immortal, especially after they found her and the two french immortals clashed. 

“It’s been too long. I miss that woman.”

“We all do.” Nicky said before returning to his meal. Without much time having gone by, the door to the cemetery sounded and Andy walked through the door with a nervous woman behind them. The girl was young, no more than 25 and had blood stained on her forehead. One hand was clutching her arm but out of nervousness not injury. Her eyes looked at the three men. Two sat staring at her in chairs and the other by the refrigerator and the only sound that played was the cheering of fans from a football match that played on the widescreen. Andy looked over her shoulder and then back again, breaking the silence to introduce the newest member of The Old Guard.  

“Everyone, this is Nile.”

--------------------------------------------

Tag List: (Let me know if you’d like to be tagged for the next part!) 

@holychocopie 

[nutty1005]

Xiao Zhan: It’s Your Turn

Translator’s Note: This article comes from VogueMe Magazine 2020 Feb Issue.

Currently, the trend in the entertainment business is to get famous overnight, the statistics dictate everything – a drama, a variety show, a song… all of which could give birth to a super idol, fame, commercial value and opportunities that come along with it. In 2019, the drama “The Untamed”, adapted from an internet novel, became this window of opportunity. This is the story of a young man who received the opportunity. And like other idols created by their era, his fanbase grew immensely, radiating throughout the youth, his name etched in time. All of these simply points to this – it’s now Xiao Zhan’s turn.

1

The summer of 2015, Xiao Zhan had not yet realized that he was going to job switch from the design firm opened by his teacher. The teacher did not feel so as well – as Xiao Zhan left for the talent search variety show, he told him, “Go play, come back to work once you’ve been eliminated.”

The show was called “X-FIRE”, and positions itself as a large scaled youth talent development inspirational show. During broadcast, the description says “16 secretly trained youths painstakingly selected from a few thousand 16-24 year olds”. At that time, Xiao Zhan was 23 years old – nearing the upper age limit.

Xiao Zhan just wanted to “play around a bit”. He felt that he would be just touring for a round, and he would be back after a week. As the former class Cultural Committee Member in his university, Xiao Zhan loved singing, won quite a few inter-school cultural activities awards, but never trained in dance-singing. Xiao Zhan, who graduated in graphic design, learnt drawing since young, but never thought of becoming an artist, because “it is hard to survive as an artist, you still need to earn a living”. He was willing to lead a simple life and go to work everyday, with a direct and clear life plan – as a graphic designer, do his work well, then open his own firm.

The summer 4 years later, the name “Xiao Zhan” meant a lot of different things – a member of a pop group, the lead actor of one of the most popular drama, the owner of a Weibo account with more than 22million followers, or as what Chinese entertainment business puts it – a “top traffic”. The topics and imagery surrounding him includes – Xiao Zhan’s looks, Xiao Zhan’s design talent, Xiao Zhan’s professionalism, Xiao Zhan’s role as Wei Wuxian…

And like the other idols who broke out in this era, he has his own set of records – moderators of Bilibili (a video hosting site in China) nagged that his drama fans uploaded so much of his videos that they “almost see him 800 times a day”, Xiao Zhan was jokingly proclaimed as “The Man who caused the Bloodbath of Bilibili”; he became the cover person of a magazine, and the two mobile sales platform app broke down consecutively on the day of the sales; his popularity in 2020 only got higher – on 9 Jan, according to Tian Mao statistics (TN: Taobao eShopping Mall), the Portrait magazine, where he was the cover person, sold out 100,000 copies in 3 seconds, overall sales exceeding 13million Chinese yuan, a poster was spread all around the internet with the accompanying text “a fandom that brought paper media back from its grave” – this is the Xiao Zhan statistics.

But different from the breakout idols, Xiao Zhan did not encounter major controversies (TN: This was published early Feb), and his career did not seem to go through much fluctuations. He never thought that he would be at this point – “Sometimes you’re not ready, but life has already pushed you to ahead. What you can do is to quickly keep up with the pace.” He is now at the stage where any of his actions are “studied under a magnifying glass”, but he feels that his stress levels are not as high as his previous few years, “the past few years, I had the drive but nowhere to use that, now I know how to work hard.”

2

During the initial auditions, Xiao Zhan still continued to work as per normal, go onstage – sing – leave, which was quite fun. After the selection down to 32 persons, he did not think much of it, and left his work to go to Beijing to practice the dance for the variety show. After the selection down to 16 persons, he practiced everything – dancing, vocals and flexibility training.

He did not think much of what would happen later. The winter in Beijing was especially cold, after the show recording, it would be around 3am or 4am, and there would be fans waiting for him outside of the studio – Xiao Zhan felt quite sorry for them, “All are young girls, it’s so cold and so dark.” He felt surreal having fans. When the 16 of them went to Zhejiang TV “Running 2016” New Year Eve performance, he saw the stage and felt that it was especially big and he was especially happy, and kept making sure he remembered the moves so as not to make any mistakes. After the final battle, Xiao Zhan’s team lost, but he and a few of his teammates were rescued by fan votes.

In 2016, Xiao Zhan debuted as part of X-Nine. During the signing of the contract, Xiao Zhan finally realized that he was going to make a career switch. “When you look at it now, 23 year old is also still a child, but no one took me as a child then.” – Xiao Zhan was the oldest in the group, he made his own decision to sign the contract, he thought that if it did not work out, he could go back to work, there was no need for him to paint himself into a corner.

3½ years after his debut, Artist Xiao Zhan still had to explain to interviewers his obsession with going to work. That day, he had a pimple on the left side of his face, and the makeup artist was applying essences on his face. The makeup room was simply a curtained area in the basement of the Art Gallery, full of passing staff, the editor was discussing the shooting schedule with his manager, the stylist was here delivering clothes, and he sat there with his eyes closed, allowing others to apply whatever it is on his face.

Xiao Zhan’s eyes are long, and also wide, he is very fair and his side profile is graceful and beautiful. With his looks, one would imagine that his personality would be cooler, more introvert, with mild melancholy, like those prince-like male leads in romantic dramas. But his personality does not really match his looks – he is serious, disciplined, he does not talk much initially, but overall he is a relaxed person, and quite funny occasionally.

“A lot of art students do not want to go to work,” the interviewer said. Xiao Zhan learnt drawing since young, some of his happiest moments in his childhood would be to win drawing awards or to have his works praised by his teachers, other unimportant happy moments includes had a good lunch, went to an amusement park, or had a liking for a girl in high school.

“They never went through the society school of hard knocks,” Xiao Zhan said. He described himself as someone who went through “quite a fair bit of knocking”. Since young, his father thought him to be independent, taught him budgeting, and told him stories about Bill Gates’s children… “I wanted to say, god, you’re not Bill Gates.” Despite all these, Xiao Zhan stopped using his parents’ money ever since his university graduation.

Xiao Zhan not only learnt drawing, he also learnt violin, go and Chinese calligraphy… pushed him to study in “National Key” middle school, “National Key” high school (TN: National Key refers to the top range of schools in China). He was an obedient child, but as a standard art student, Xiao Zhan was better in humanity subjects, and his math was not good, hence all the while he had always been the mid-bottom of the pack, which worried his family of 3 quite a fair bit.

Studying graphic design in university, Xiao Zhan felt that his university life was quite comfortable – everyday before class he would adjust himself a bit, although in the end it seemed like it did not work well after all, but at least his results were decent. Xiao Zhan emphasized that he was “definitely not the school hottie”. He was a good student. After he had learnt what the teachers taught, he started a studio on the side. The design studio would take on poster and logo design work; the photography studio only have 3 persons, Xiao Zhan did the photo taking, the other 2 did lighting. Before graduation he went to intern in a design firm, hence it was easy for him to find a job. Within a year of working, his monthly salary was around 4,000 to 5,000 Chinese Yuan, which would quite alright for Chongqing at that point in time.

Being part of a boy group releasing albums, shooting web dramas. The way to do things right was quite different from his previous job – his characterization in the group is a warm guy, although Xiao Zhan did not like characterization, he seriously fulfilled his role, and he was obedient. When someone in the variety show suggested that he lose some weight, he replied “I’m quite thin already I still have to lose weight”. As a commoner, Xiao Zhan was 183cm and 150lbs, his mother would always say he was too thin, and he felt so himself as well. That person showed him the film, “the camera lens is a really scary thing, I literally looked like a ball”. It was not easy for Xiao Zhan to lose weight, so he did it brutally. He was so hungry that he dreamed that he was eating. Xiao Zhan is now 127lbs, but this was not his thinnest.

“How was it like after debut?” “Unoccupied.” (TN: Xiao Zhan used the Chinese phrase “picking at his feet” to describe the state of emptiness.) Xiao Zhan’s words were paced and gentle, most were caught unawares by the sudden switch to casual humor, he might not be laughing, after others laughed he would continue his conversation seriously.

After his debut, he felt that he was freer than the times when he was still an intern. But he did not allow himself to stay free, he took vocal and dancing lessons, making sure that he could do sing-dancing to the best of his abilities. But he was still a bit lost – when he was still a designer, his future was clear and straight, but after his debut he had no clue where his future led to.

3

“I could count the number of dramas I’ve acted in with my fingers,” Xiao Zhan said. After which, he started counting them – “Battle through the Heavens”, “The Wolf”, “Oh! My Emperor”, “The Untamed”, “Joy of Life”, “Jade Dynasty”, “The Oath of Love”… the earliest work “Super Star Academy” was not counted – It was shot with his boy group, he was still fat, and he had no clue what he was doing.

Acting was his own idea. When he started auditioning he had not even attended any performance classes, he saw the director, took a piece of paper that indicated the scene and lines, and just went for it. Xiao Zhan did not feel that it was awkward, it was something he wanted to do, so he would do so without any inhibitions, and grasp every opportunity to do so. Singing was something that he always liked, his first single after debut was a song voted by his fans. With the stage and his fans, with attention, he would always want to do it better. Acting was something totally foreign to him.

The first turning point was “The Wolf”. When auditioning, within 2 hours, Xiao Zhan had tried many roles – the bounty hunter who was threatening someone, the prince whose brother was about to be executed… Xiao Zhan won the role of the bounty hunter – the 4th character on the character roll, Ji Chong. During the pre-shoot training he was still acting in “Battle through the Heavens”, daytime he would be shooting, nighttime he would be having performance classes. He did not feel it was tough then, as long as he had time to sleep. “Work is something I am willing to do, I will only feel very motivated, tomorrow must be done better than today.” Xiao Zhan liked Wei Wuxian, felt that he was vivid. When acting, during the first month he would be second guessing himself everyday, is the portrayal accurate? Would the audience accept it? Xiao Zhan checked with the director everyday. After a month, he stopped asking, he felt that he was Wei Wuxian. Dramas adapted from web novels are rarely positively received, his hopes for Wei Wuxian was that “I hope people would not dislike the character because of my acting”.

The summer of 2019, the drama aired, and the real turning point arrived.

Billions of fans, frequent trending topics on Weibo, appearing on multiple magazine covers and even causing the sales platform app to crash…

He is one of the few artists in Weibo that sets his account as ��only posts in the past 6 months are viewable”, but it did not affect his popularity. His interaction with his fans are witty, the statistics are more than enough to attract attention. Last year on the Chinese Valentine’s Day (TN: 7th of the 7th Lunar month), he posted a photo informing his fans that he had put on weight, his pants folded up, legs in the swimming pool. One of his fans replied, “Fine, good to know that your leg hairs are doing fine.” This reply was boosted to the top with 190,000 likes.

“After watching ‘The Untamed’ and ‘Joy of Life’ and then meeting you, I feel like you are very similar to your performance method, calm. You are like an AI, whatever you do you’re especially precise.” “You’re highly professional.” The interviewer concluded.

At the start of the conversation, Xiao Zhan just finished an exterior photo shoot, we were both seated, leaning forward and warming hands above the radiator. He said, “Artist is just a job, I don’t like artists to place themselves on a pedestal, just like today you are the reporter who is interviewing me, today I am someone being interviewed. Cooperation, is just so that we can complete our jobs, coming in for the photo shoot is my job today, every single staff is also executing this job, it’s just the role is different.” Because he went through the society “school of hard knocks”, he respected and understood the truth behind teamwork.

As someone who once had to face clients, he knew how it felt as someone at the receiving end of endless unreasonable requests, and therefore he did not want to be someone like that. His standards for work is consistent – high efficiency, good results, everyone is happy, no one has to serve another person. Also “once I am done I will knock off, after I knock off no one should come find me, let me be alone.”

“Everyone works to fulfill their needs, they have entertainment after they knock off, they have freedom and privacy. As a public figure, artist, the product is yourself, the works are also yourself. You have to output materials, contribute works, and then gain the opportunity to grow, for higher social status, value and better lifestyle. For some people, besides their career, they also included their dreams,” the interviewer said.

“The understanding is very thorough. You win some, you lose some, after becoming a public figure it meant that there are multiple pairs of eyes staring at you, anything you do would be judged. Whether it is positive or misguided. Truth and falsehoods, isn’t this circle just like this? Whether the rumors or the gossip is true or false, who knows?” Xiao Zhan said.

4

On 5 Jan 2020, Xiao Zhan was working in a sculpture garden in Shanghai Songjiang, shooting a series of photographs to be the cover of VogueMe. It was cold, the gallery’s doors were open, and the wind blew from the first floor to the basement. Everyone was wearing winter jackets.

In the morning, beside the metal sculpture on the first floor, Xiao Zhan and model Chen Yu faced the camera separately. As the shutters rolled, they did not exchange glances or touch each other. As the photographer requested the model to sit on the ground, Xiao Zhan said his only sentence to her, “Careful your head.” and used his hands to shield her head from the protruding portion of the sculpture.

That day’s Weibo opening advertisement was also Xiao Zhan. As per the photographer’s request, he tilted his head up slightly and gave a cold gaze, or side glancing a faraway place, but also at the same time, he was smiling sweetly on mobile phone screens, promoting a series of instant food products.

In the afternoon, the team went to the exterior, to a concrete sculpture beside the gallery entrance, where he and the model stood in front of, facing the camera. The arm was on the model’s shoulders, and the two of them looked at the camera – he was even thinner than the model. In yet another set, the staff erected a ladder to one of the rooftop grass patches on the gallery buildings. An ice cold rock slab was selected, which the assistant padded using a jacket, and tested the light levels. After which, it was Xiao Zhan’s turn. He was wearing a red jacket with blue shirt, wearing a baseball cap, lying on his side on the rock slab, supporting his head with his arm. In between shoots, the assisted would hand him a long wool top, with deep blue diamond checks, quite thin. The top was flipped over, he slipped his hands into the sleeves to protect the front of his body, his assistant handed over another water bottle that contained warm mineral water to warm his hands. Xiao Zhan basically did not speak, he placed the bottle on his neck to gain some warmth.

An artist’s job, the profession included losing weight, staying hungry, freezing and staying up overnight, wearing winter clothes in summer is the norm, not drinking water prior to any shoots to prevent water bloating on screen… people who do those well may become famous, if they look good or are lucky they may become even more famous. Now Xiao Zhan has an opportunity, and like his previous job, he chose to be down-to-earth and do it well.

In the evening, the green screens were setup in basement 2 of the gallery. 17:44, Xiao Zhan was in position, his manager reminded the stylist to take note of the clothes’ proportion – “The sweater is too long.” Hence, the sweater was folded up. After the camera assistant brought down the Apple machines, the cameraman adjusted his machines, and started shooting the video. Quite a few scenes were done in one take, in the middle there was a break, the manager and the camera crew were discussing camera positions. This was the 10th hour of the shoot, Xiao Zhan sat behind the table, laid his head on a prop gift box and waited quietly – we could not see if he was tired or not.

The shoot ended, and the sky was already dark. Xiao Zhan has not yet knocked off. The media had ended their work, the manager was darting around, arranging for Xiao Zhan to change out and get on his car, to rush to his rehearsal that night – they were already behind schedule. Both teams bid their farewell, Xiao Zhan warm and gentle, still unclear whether he was tired. After less than an hour’s journey, he would need to go onstage to sing, and thereafter, his work would be to complete the costume testing of 20 different sets of clothes.

The Initial Cold

The time set for the shoot was 9am, Xiao Zhan arrived at the rural set at 8.30am. His overnight flight arrived only the day before, meeting Xiao Zhan on the cold morning of a deep southern winter, his spirits looked great, his face having the same kindness as usual. The endless job schedules taught him how to conserve his energy – no casual conversation, not even to his staff; take every opportunity to eat or rest; absolutely no procrastination, ensure efficiency, do his best to accommodate and complete every job. He is a highly disciplined and professional artist.

In this shoot, the warm, gentle smiles have been replaced by cold, sharp glares, the metal and concrete sculptures gave him a few minutes of inner emotions and narrative, his scenes with the model was almost like he was acting in the set of “Last Year at Marienbad”. Xiao Zhan displayed emotions and charm very different from usual self – this is the power of an actor. The darker filters and monochrome imagery restored the caution that the youth of his age would have, it was the concealed feelings of a sunny boy. With such an idol, not only he can warm your hearts, there are still much to expect from him.

[thisbrokenmask]

Moving On

Title: Moving On

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: Established relationship, fluff

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1.7k

Song inspiration: Moving On

A/N: Another one of my submissions for ficswithluv’s Bulletproof Bingo Event, and this one is especially poignant for me as I got the keys to my new apartment today! It’s also my first time living entirely on my own - no fellow students, no partner - so I’m very excited to be taking on this next adventure! 

Also, in case you didn’t notice, I’m a bit soft for Yoongi :) 

“Is this the last one?” You turn to see Taehyung pointing to the box at his feet and nod in confirmation, watching as he immediately bends down to lift it. He doesn’t mention your lack of sarcastic comment that the last box sat in the middle of the room is clearly the last one, and you try not to frown at how effortlessly he lifts it and turns to take it out of your apartment. You remember how you’d had to slide it across the floor once you’d filled it not even a week ago, but you aren’t about to question your significantly stronger friends when they’re helping you and your boyfriend move. 

Once Taehyung’s footsteps disappear down the hallway towards the elevator of your soon-to-be ex-apartment building, you turn to look around the now-empty room that was formerly your lounge. The TV is no longer on the wall, the wide expanse of blue somehow looking smaller without a flatscreen in the middle of it, and all of your photo frames are securely packed away, their hooks removed from the walls and the holes filled in and painted over. 

Your footsteps echo on the bare wooden floors as you turn to wander towards the kitchen, the rugs you’d used to cushion the floor already rolled up and waiting inside the truck outside. The ghosts of tummy-aching laughter and birthday songs ring in your ears as you try to remember all of the celebrations and movie nights that have happened here over the years. You subconsciously step to the side to avoid the end table that’s no longer there, a short chuckle passing your lips as you realise how deeply this action has seeped into your muscle memory. It’s understandable, given how you’ve lived here for just over three years, but you still can’t help but laugh at yourself. 

The white kitchen cupboards gleam in the sunlight that seeps in through the window above the sink, all of them meticulously wiped clean and emptied. A soft smile graces your face as you remember all the dinners you both cooked here, the glasses of wine you giggled over, even the few times you made love on the floor when the bedroom was just too far away from the front door after a date night. 

“Ready to go?” A pair of arms wraps around your waist and a chin settles on your shoulder as Yoongi whispers in your ear, his deep voice the most sinful ASMR you’ve ever heard. The warmth of his chest against your back helps to soothe the nerves that have been creeping up your spine for the last few days. While you’re glad to be out of the small, cramped apartment that you could barely afford by scraping your earnings together three years ago, you’ve never been good with saying goodbyes, even to places. 

You remember the first night you spent here, the two of you sat on the floor with a few take out containers between you. Boxes sat on the counters above you and took up the floor in the next room, and a mattress was waiting on the floor in the bedroom for when you eventually collapsed into bed together, frameless until later on in the week. Your belongings were threadbare at best, a lot of secondhand pieces making up the most of your possessions, but it was finally your own space. The two of you, together.  

“I think so,” your whispered reply is shaky as you place your hands over his where they rest on your stomach, his hum of amusement rumbling against your shoulders. 

“Don’t tell me now you want to stay?” he teases, turning his hands over to lace his fingers with yours. 

“Definitely not,” you laugh, squeezing his hands in return. “I’m glad to be leaving, really. We’ve outgrown this place and I’m ready to move on.” You nod to yourself, feeling your confidence rise with each word, knowing that you mean them all wholeheartedly. You’ve definitely outgrown this apartment, both of you now making much more money than you’d ever dreamed of three years ago thanks to Yoongi’s growing success in freelance music producing and your own writing career taking off just over a year ago. 

But it’s not just the money. The two of you have gone from strength to strength as a couple, weathering the storms of being broke, missing out on dream jobs, stress-fuelled arguments and late nights spent deciding whether to pay the bills on time or eat more than packet ramen for the foreseeable future. You’re ready to keep moving forward through life with him, already knowing that you’ll stay by his side for as long as he’ll have you. 

The man who lives full time in your heart starts to sway slightly, his hold on you guiding your hips to follow his from side to side. “Yeah?” His nose nuzzles into the spot just below your ear, your breath catching in your throat as he places a gentle kiss to your pulse point. You nod weakly, your confidence slipping at his question. “Then why do you look like you’re going to cry?” 

With a deep breath, you close your eyes and pull your hands from his. You feel him tense slightly, but he relaxes as soon as you guide his hands to the slope of your body between the dip of your waist and the curve of your hips. You finally turn in his arms, looping your arms around his neck, unable to blink back the tears in your eyes despite the smile on your lips. His eyes are watching you carefully, dark and deep and attentive as always, even when the black hair of his fringe threatens to overlap them. It hides his eyebrows, but you know one is cocked slightly to match the lopsided smirk he’s giving you. 

“Because, this is where we grew up, Yoongi,” you tell him, watching as his expression relaxes from a teasing smirk to match your soft-eyed smile. “We went through so much here; the good, the bad, the ugly… the fun.” You pull gently on the hair at the nape of his neck at the memories of the kitchen floor you’d just been reminiscing on and grin, a deep sigh sounding when he closes his eyes and bites his lip before staring straight back at you, pupils dilated. “We’ve got so many memories here,” you continue, looking around at the empty walls and pretending to ignore the way he grips you tighter. “I know it’s not the best apartment, but it was us. This was our home, and I’m going to miss it.” 

Yoongi’s stare softens once more and he internally curses how he knows he’ll never win against you; you hold his heart in your hands and he worships how gently you hold it, never squeezing too hard or letting him feel like you might drop it. 

“I won’t miss it,” he says quietly, catching you off guard as he leans in a little closer.

“No?” He shakes his head. “Why not?”

“Because you’re my home,” he states, as if it were a fact universally acknowledged. “As long as I’m with you, I’m more than happy.” 

“You’re my home, too,” your watery smile threatens to push your tears down your cheeks, but you manage to catch yourself before they do. You smile instead, adoration clear in your eyes as you look up at him. 

Yoongi’s heart beats wildly at the conflicting emotions coursing through his body, wanting to make sweet, reverential love to you, fuck you against the wall until you know nothing but his name, and simply hold you tightly against his chest, all in equal measure. You bewitch, ensnare and captivate his senses all at once, always have done, and he constantly struggles with how he can possibly express how much he loves you. He wants to worship every inch of you and yet feels too inadequate to even gaze upon your body. He wants to wait on you hand and foot and give you anything you want, but also wants to see you thrive in your own spotlight, carving your own path as you go. He’s torn between fierce attraction and heady admiration at every turn, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

As his friends have repeatedly said, he’s whipped. 

And guess what? He’s proud of it. 

You’re the woman who has stood by him despite everything, despite all the hardships you easily could have upped and walked away from. You’re the one who comforted him when his own parents refused to recognise his dreams, letting him vent and cry rather than telling him they weren’t worth the pain they caused him. You’re the person who admonished him for wanting to give up on his dreams of music, even when it was barely bringing enough money to the table despite keeping him up all night. You were the first person he wanted to tell when he finally sold a track for a decent amount of money, running home to show you the cheque in person because he could barely believe it himself. 

And here you still are, in his arms, gazing up at him like he’s worth more to you than the whole world, a position he still doesn’t feel like he’s even close to earning. You entered this flat together and you’re leaving together, off to take on new adventures together on stronger legs. Your new apartment is bigger, with enough room for Yoongi to have some proper equipment in a proper studio space while you have your very own writing desk in your new office. You’ve been able to upgrade your bed from a rickety-framed double to a memory foam-topped queen. There’s even more space on the kitchen floor. 

You smile as he lets his forehead rest against yours, both of you closing your eyes as you breathe into the same private space between you. As you feel his hands move around to rest at the base of your back, you feel a new surge of confidence fuelled purely by the love you feel radiating off of your partner. As long as you’re with him, you feel invincible.

“Let’s go,” you say, not moving an inch. 

“Okay,” he whispers back, pulling you closer so that your chests are pressed firmly together. 

A final deep breath, you pull apart. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” 

If you would like to read any more of my writings, please feel free to check out my masterlist here. 

[theotherackerman]

My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: Any recognizable elements belong to Attack on Titan.

NOTES:

Thursday January 7th

song mikasa is singing: my tears ricochet- taylor swift 

chapter thirteen: hear my stolen lullabies

“It’s stuck!” Floch yelled.

“I told you to lift your side higher!” Niccolo shouted back.

Today was another moving day at the old Jaeger house. Most of the things would be loaded up into the moving truck.

Eren had caved and packed up his bedroom early this morning before everyone else arrived. Niccolo and Floch had been in charge of getting the wrap around couch in the basement out in sections. They had been having issues this entire time.

Now a section couch was stuck in the doorway to the basement. It was at a strange angle so that the back and the front were both tipped up. It almost looked like the couch was floating.

“You two are fucking idiots,” Zeke said as Eren helped stabilize the refrigerator on the dolly.

“Zeke, help us!” Floch whined.

“Moving a fridge right now,” he grunted as he tipped the refrigerator back.

“I’m going to be stuck in the basement forever,” Floch muttered.

“Oh you can finally improve on your bass skills,” Niccolo laughed.

“Ha ha ha. That joke was only funny the first ten times you said.”

“Oh no, it’s still funny. Just not to you.”

Suddenly, a group of people had descended on the couch.

Two girls went under the floating couch to the other side.

“Move,” Mikasa said as her and Historia grabbed onto the side Floch was holding.

Ymir and Sasha were on the other side, ready to lift.

“On three!” Sasha yelled. “One! Two! Three!”

The couch was free.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Niccolo muttered.

They carried the couch outside and onto the truck where Zeke and Eren were waiting for them.

They placed the couch down.

Zeke and the rest of the group exited, leaving Eren and Mikasa alone in the moving truck.

“Hey,” Eren said.

“Hey,” she said simply.

He stuffed his hands into his coat pockets, “thanks for coming.”

“Of course. It gives Annie and Armin some alone time before he goes back to campus.”

“Levi not there?”

“Oh no, he’s there. He’s just got his earbuds in and he’s cleaning the entire house.”

“He didn’t make you help?” Eren raised an eyebrow.

“We tried to this morning and he ended up just getting frustrated with us. Besides, he’s really picky about how the Christmas decorations get put away.”

Eren laughed, “sounds like Levi.”

“Can you two go flirt somewhere else? We’ve got another piece of the couch,” Ymir said as she e ntered the moving truck holding one side of the couch.

“Ymir! Be nice to them,” Historia said as she held the other side.

“We’ve got the next piece!” Sasha called from outside the truck.

Moving went much faster than Eren had thought was possible. The girls were like a finely tuned machine. Even though he had seen them like this for years, the way they anticipated each other’s next move was still impressive to Eren.

They took a break for lunch. Everyone sat on the floor with their own carton of Chinese takeout.

“So how far are you going to be from us, Eren?” Sasha asked before taking another bite.

“A little over an hour. I’m fifteen minutes from the club we were at on New Year’s Eve.”

He couldn’t pretend not to notice Mikasa looking down into her takeout carton. He knew he was thinking the exact same thing. They had just got one another back in their lives, now he was leaving again.

“What’s your place like, Zeke?” Historia asked before she gave Mikasa a small pat on her knee.

“Well, there’s a lake. I’ve done quite a bit over remodeling the past few years since our grandparents died,” Zeke answered.

“Wait, your grandparents just died?” Ymir asked.

“Ah. Yes, our father lied about that too. While I was kept a secret from Carla and Eren, Eren was kept a secret from our grandparents.”

“What a piece of shit,” Ymir said before taking a bite.

“Zeke’s house is really nice. If you get the chance, you should come sometimes for band practice. The lake is awesome in the summer,” Niccolo chimed in.

“You can’t just invite people to Zeke’s house,” Floch said.

“It’s fine. They’re welcome too. Besides, Levi has an open door policy so I might as well too,” Zeke said before eating.

“Do you like being a psychologist?” Historia asked.

“Yes, I find it fulfilling. It’s nice to help someone improve their own life. It’s very rewarding to see someone take control back. There are also those that come simply to talk and it’s nice to be the person they confide in.”

“So what about you, Floch? Do anything interesting since high school?” Sasha asked.

“Joined a band. I’m in my last year of college. You know, normal stuff,” he said with a shrug.

“Wow, as normal and boring as ever,” Ymir remarked.

“Hey!”

“So Niccolo, are you ready to get grilled with questions?” Ymir smirked.

“Uh, sure. No, not really,” his face went red as he looked down into his container.

“Hmm, I don’t know about this one, Sasha.”

“What? Wait, you can ask me anything. Just not too personal. I mean I don’t have anything to hide. I….I’m in culinary school. I’ve played drums since I was five. I work as a bartender and at a restaurant. I’ve only had like two girlfriends before Sasha. And I really like your friend,” his face began to turn red.

“Oh you’re going to be fun,” Ymir smirked again.

“If they don’t tease you, you should be worried,” Mikasa spoke up finally.

“Oh. Good to know,” Niccolo replied.

The house was empty by 4:00 pm.

Zeke wanted to leave to make sure that he would make it back before sunset. Floch and Niccolo were following him back while Sasha took all the girls, besides Mikasa, back to Levi’s house.

So Eren and Mikasa were left alone in the old house to make sure everything had been cleared out.

“You’re not ready to say goodbye to this place, are you?” She asked as they stood in the basement.

“No, not really. It still hasn’t sold yet so Zeke will have to come by every so often to make sure everything is okay. We’ll be starting regular band practice again soon. It just makes sense for me to be there.”

Mikasa simply nodded.

“Looks like down here is all empty. We can check the rest of the house.” He grabbed onto the long sleeve on her shirt and gently tugged it.

She gave him a smile before nodding again. They walked upstairs, not once did Eren ever let go.

“You know an hour is not that far away.”

“I know.”

“And I’ll be back sometimes.”

“I know,” she repeated before looking down.

He let go of her sleeve and cupped her face with his hand. “I’m not giving up on this. I’m not giving up on fixing this. You gave me another chance. I can’t promise that I won’t fuck up again but I promise that I’m not giving up on you.”

That made her cry. He used his thumbs to wipe away her tears. He stared at her lips for a brief moment. He couldn’t put into words how desperately he wanted to kiss them again. He knew he shouldn’t so instead, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. He took a step back from her. Mikasa went over to his backpack that was sitting in the corner and swung it over her shoulders before grabbing Eren’s sleeve.

“Let’s go home,” she replied simply.

---------

“Why would you name your child Anchovy?” was the first thing Mikasa heard as she entered the house. Ymir and Sasha were watching tv together.

“It’s a very delicious fish,” Sasha chimed in.

“Oh gross,” Ymir replied. “It’s a dumb name.”

Mikasa and Eren looked at one another before they took their shoes off.

“Is Annie naming her kid Anchovy?” Eren asked.

“No, at least I don’t think so. If she does, I’m going to tease her forever. It’s this dumb movie. Apparently, the couple is naming their child Anchovy,” Ymir said as she pointed to the tv.

“Where do you find this stuff?” Mikasa asked.

“Well, this one is on Hallmark. I guess they ate anchovy pizza the first date they went on. It’s dumb as hell.”

“House empty?” Sasha asked.

“Yep, we checked everything. Nothing left behind,” Eren answered.

“Good.”

“Thanks for helping, all of you.”

Ymir waved her hand, “it’s what friends do. Besides, Zeke bought us food. That makes it even.”

“Where’s Historia?” Mikasa asked.

“On the phone with my dad. She’s going to work at the indoor farmer’s market with us if she likes what he has to say,” Sasha replied before stretching.

“I got a job at the bar. I knew having an alcohol license would come in handy,” Ymir said.

“What about you, Mikasa? Got any jobs lined up?” Eren asked as he sat down in Levi’s chair.

“Oh! He doesn’t know!” Sasha exclaimed.

“Oh, right. So you know my mom’s tattoo that I got?” Mikasa asked, “the one for her family?”

“Yeah, I went with you.”

“Um, well. I guess I had a great aunt alive. Mom had her put me on the trust when I was born and she recently passed….”

“And now she’s loaded!” Ymir exclaimed.

“Well, not yet. Because of the holidays, things got slowed but it should go into my bank account any day now,” Mikasa sat down in between Ymir and Sasha.

“But Mikasa is boring and responsible so she won’t be doing anything fun with the money,” Ymir s coffed.

“That’s not true. I just...don’t really want much. I want to record an album but there’s not a studio space around here that’s easily for rent. I’ve been looking into it,” Mikasa replied.

“You could buy yourself a car so you could go visit him every week,” Ymir nodded her head in Eren’s direction.

“I..uhh…” Mikasa’s face went red.

“Sasha, I forgot how nice your dad was,” Historia said as she entered the room.

“So are you working with me?” Sasha asked as she took her phone back from Historia.

“Yeah!”

“Yay! It’ll be so nice to have you working with me. I get so bored sitting there by myself. I just end up drumming on the stand and driving all the other vendors nuts,” Sasha laughed.

“Speaking of which, are we practicing today?”

“As soon as Armin and Annie get done. They’re still looking at doctors,” Historia said before leaning on the back of the couch. “Eren, you want to join us?”

“Thanks but I’m going to get Armin into gold today. You said we could use your console, right?” Eren asked Mikasa.

“Yeah, it’s in my room.”

“Good luck with that. He got me killed multiple times last time I played with him,” Ymir scoffed.

“I’m carrying him but it should be fine. I’ve done it before.”

“....any chance you want to help me get back up in the ranks?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’m staying here until Saturday. So I should have plenty of time.”

“Awesome!”

Mikasa smiled to herself. She had missed this, all of her friends together, happy.

Historia played with the back of Mikasa’s short hair so she leaned back.

“Want to go work on a song?” Historia asked, “oh I forgot you have such pretty eyes, Mikasa.”

Mikasa flushed, “thanks.”

“Let’s go work on lyrics,” Historia smiled.

“Okay,” Mikasa replied before going to the sun room with Historia.

Silence filled the living room besides the Hallmark video playing for a brief moment. Then the piano music began.

“You can go watch if you want,” Ymir finally said before resting her feet up on the table.

“No, I know how Mikasa can get sometimes with her lyrics,” Eren turned his attention towards the tv.

“Oh, that’s right. You haven’t seen her and Historia write. You’ll be lucky if they acknowledge your existence sometimes. They just get into this zone.”

“It’s like they can read one another’s mind.” Sasha added.

“Or they’re already seen the song in the future or something,” Ymir said before standing up.

Eren and Sasha followed her towards the sun room.

The music got louder as they walked.

“Their roles switch. It’s so interesting,” Sasha said, “Historia plays and Mikasa sings.”

And sure enough, Mikasa’s voice began to fill the air just as they reached the doorway of the sun room. Mikasa and Historia were sitting next to one another on the piano bench in front of the keyboard. Mikasa was writing down lyrics as she sang.

“[lyrics redacted].”

Eren been the one to say that to her. He recognized the words as soon as he heard them. Ymir walked over and lounged in one of the chairs. Sasha sat down at her drum set.

“Grab a chair, Eren. They aren’t paying attention.”

“ [lyrics redacted] .”

If Mikasa and Historia did notice them, they sure didn’t act like it. They were both clearly lost in the music.

“ [lyrics redacted] .”

Mikasa’s eyes met Eren’s for a moment.

“ [lyrics redacted] . ”

She looked away.

He was starting to think Ymir and Sasha had been wrong.

Both Historia and Mikasa clearly knew that people were there.

They just chose to ignore them.

Except Mikasa didn’t ignore Eren.

When had either of them been able to ignore each other?

“ [lyrics redacted] ”

Historia finished playing the song.

“Oh I liked that!” Historia beamed.

“Me too. It still needs work. I mean the whole first verse doesn’t exist. I think we could add more to the bridge.”

“Oh! What if we had rotating pieces to the chorus? Like we use similar lines and then change them. I really like ‘ [lyrics redacted] .’ I worry though if we repeat it, it’ll lose its meaning.”

“How high of a note can you sing again?”

“Why?”

“Because I think there needs to be something between ‘ [lyrics redacted] ’ and ‘ [lyrics redacted].’ I think whatever we put here, it needs to go up a few octaves so that it’s impactful.”

“Oh! I like that. Maybe we can have Annie or Ymir sing those two lines and then I’ll sing whatever the other two new lines are.”

“That works.”

Ymir had been right about their level of working together. They bounced ideas back and forth between one another. Though he and Mikasa had worked similarly to this, the way Mikasa worked with Historia was perfect. He wondered if leaving her had actually given her the push she needed. She wasn’t self conscious with Historia. She didn’t seem to care who heard her sing.

Maybe he was the problem.

No, she was just nervous because it was him, Eren corrected himself mentally.

Mikasa worried what he thought.

It wasn’t anything more than that.

Wasn’t he the same way?

Annie and Armin came into the sunroom.

“I thought I heard music,” Annie said with a smile.

“Pick a doctor?” Sasha asked.

“We picked a top three. I’ll start calling tomorrow. It’s kind of late for that now.”

“You up for band practice?” Ymir asked.

“I’m pregnant, not dead. Of course, I’m ready,” Annie scoffed as she walked over to her guitar and began tuning it.

Sasha laughed, “what song are we doing?”

“We should do another livestream soon. So maybe we’ll pick a song to do for that?” Historia suggested.

“What about that one summer song? The more recent one,” Ymir suggested.

Mikasa nodded, “it’s upbeat. I think that’ll be good.”

Levi entered the sun room with Sawney and Bean following him. “Not so fast. Ymir, you put your feet on my table. You get to clean it.”

“How do you know it was me?” Ymir asked.

He just stared at her.

“....Fine. I’ll be back.”

“Ready to go for gold?” Armin asked Eren.

“Yeah, let’s go. Have a good rehearsal,” Eren smiled.

Mikasa couldn’t help but smile back.

-------

“You’re in love with her still. Maybe even more now,” Armin said as he walked over and turned the console on.

Eren groaned, “don’t remind me.”

“Is it that bad?”

“I see her and I want to kiss her. I want all of her, emotionally, physically, and I had all that and I fucked it up. So now I get to sit here and wish I could go back to the way things were.”

Armin handed Eren a controller before he grabbed one from the charging dock Mikasa had.

“So why not just give in?” Armin asked as he sat down on the floor next to Eren.

“Can’t fuck it up this time. She gave me another chance. I have got to do things right. That’s why I came up with that plan the other day.”

“You’ve come a long way in this last year. Not just giving into everything you want to do and actually thinking things through for once.”

“Well, I did almost have sex with her that day after the graveyard.”

“Yeah, she told me.  How did that happen?”

“I don’t know! She’s just standing there being herself and I missed her and...she was saying all these things about not wanting to leave me. How she wants to share my burdens. I just sort of….got caught up in the moment. I’m sure you understand that,” Eren smirked as the game loaded up.

“Yes...but probably a good thing you didn’t.”

“But I still wanted to.”

“Wanted?”

“Want. It’s only her for me, you know? This time last year, I was sure I would never see her again or you. Then she happens to be at my concert? She walks back into my life and all I want to do is keep her here and make up for my fuck up. That’s all. So if that involves a lot of cold showers for a while, I’ll deal with it.”

Armin looked over at Eren and smiled.

[aion-rsa]

Mythic Quest Season 2 Pulls Off Another Standout Flashback Episode

https://ift.tt/3g6iVGE

This article contains spoilers for Mythic Quest season 2 episode 6.

According to co-creator and lead actor Rob McElhenney, the Mythic Quest team didn’t go into the show’s second season on Apple TV+ with a plan to recapture the energy of season 1’s infamous flashback episode, “A Dark Quiet Death. But they ended up doing so all the same.

“We’re always trying to just stretch and do something different,” McElhenney tells Den of Geek. “It’s never a function of like, ‘Oh, that flashback episode worked, so let’s do another flashback episode.’ It’s more like, ‘Well there are no rules.’” 

In Mythic Quest season 1, the desire to operate under no set storytelling rules led to the stunning fifth episode “A Dark Quiet Death.” That installment was a flashback to the mid ‘90s in which two game developers, “Doc” (Jake Johnson) and “Bean” (Christin Milioti), met, fell in love, made some art, then sold out and fell out. The half-hour was seemingly unconnected to anything else in the Mythic Quest mythos, save for a scene at episode’s end when McElhenney’s lead game designer Ian Grimm purchased the cavernous studio that Doc and Bean once used to make their indie titles.

The episode was a thematic companion to Mythic Quest’s main storyline and an exploration of the insidious interplay between art, commerce, and human ego. Now, season 2’s sixth episode, “Backstory!” explores some similar themes via an extended flashback that actually involves a character the show’s audience is already familiar with.

As played by Oscar-winning actor F. Murray Abraham, Mythic Quest lead writer C.W. Longbottom is equal parts caricature of an aging blowhard sci-fi writer and a realistically tender depiction of a man intent on finding story wherever it might lurk. “Backstory!” takes things back to Los Angeles in 1971 when “Carl” Longbottom is fresh off the bus from Clear Lake, Iowa, and eager to begin his junior copy editing job at famous sci-fi magazine Amazing Tales Publishing. 

Playing the young C.W. with equal parts wide-eyed wonder and bitter creative disappointment is Josh Brener, who most audiences likely know as Nelson “Big Head” Bigetti on HBO’s Silicon Valley. 

“I was worried at first because, you know, it’s somebody else portraying you, so you’re kind of in their hands,” Abraham says. “It was a treat though. I got in touch with the actor to let him know how much I admire his work and how good he made me look. He had soul and heart and I think that’s essentially what C.W. is. You actually love this guy. You want him to win in the end and I think he does.”

Read more

TV

Mythic Quest: Everlight Ushers in the Post-Pandemic TV Era

By Alec Bojalad

The plot of the episode surrounds Carl’s relationship with his new copy editing peers Peter Cromwell (Michael Cassidy) and A.E. Goldsmith (Shelley Hennig). The trio begin as allies (or a “tripod” like the aliens in their beloved H.G. Wells’ creation) and attempt to get one another’s work published by Amazing Tales. It quickly becomes apparent, however, that A.E. and Peter’s fiction is much more suitable for public consumption than Carl’s strange, illogical hard sci-fi. 

“Carl, it’s not enough to propose a future where things are different. They have to be inevitable and unexpected at the same time,” A.E. tells the young writer, trying to help him. 

Unfortunately Carl is in no position to hear her. Sure, it makes no sense that humans in the future would have flesh packs on their back when backpacks would work just fine. But Carl wants humans to have flesh packs on their back because that’s how his imagination wants them to carry things.

Eventually, after A.E. and Peter find creative and professional success, Carl resorts to a soft form of plagiarism when he adopts all of the extensive notes that none other than Isaac Asimov provided on his manuscript and publishes them as his own. That’s enough for Carl to take home a Nebula Award, but A.E. understands precisely what happened. 

Carl, however, does find some semblance of real success in the form of an eerily accurate prediction. At his lowest, after Asimov essentially rewrote his story, Carl drunkenly takes off down the street in an uncharacteristic Southern California downpour. While walking, he sees a game of Atari Pong running on a model television in a storefront window. His eyes light up with the possibility of future storytelling. He then tells his peers that one day stories won’t be linear, but rather bolts of lightning. 

“The inevitable march of technology will not be stemmed. Enough iridescent geometry to create an entire world…no, worlds. We will give birth to creatures the likes of which have never been seen! Naturally, none of these worlds will mean anything on their own. They’ll need to be infused with story.”

And infused with story they’ll one day be, as Ian Grimm and Poppy Li (Charlotte Nicdao) track the aged C.W. down at a renaissance fair to write the story for their new Mythic Quest game. 

“Backstory” was written by special guest writer Craig Mazin, a prolific and powerful Hollywood presence who is now best known for creating HBO’s classic Chernobyl miniseries. This is Mazin’s first time penning a script for Mythic Quest but he did guest star in several of season 1’s episodes as the highly inappropriate games tester Lou.

Mazin also appears in this episode as Sol Green, the publisher of Amazing Tales. Mazin and McElhenney gave Sol the same last name as Lou to suggest that one is a grandfather of the other. But McElhenney is not discounting the canonical possibility that Craig Mazin is simply just an eternal force of nature.

“Again, there are no rules, so who gives a shit? Lou could be a character who has existed since the beginning of time,” McElhenney says. “To me, it’s the spirit of Mazin that lives on throughout the millennia. He’s like that in real life. I mean, that really is what he’s like.”

In addition to the presence of the writer of Chernobyl as a potentially immortal being, “Backstory!” differs from its “A Dark Quiet Death” flashback predecessor in one major way. This isn’t the end of the Carl Longbottom story. Next week’s episode, “Peter,” will continue the tale of C.W. Longbottom’s sci-fi writer life, this time in the present. And playing his friend-turned-rival Peter will be yet another actor of note.

“We essentially do a play between two Oscar winners: William Hurt and F. Abraham Murray,” McElhenney says. 

It looks like Carl was right: stories don’t have to be linear. They can be bolts of lightning too.

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New episodes of Mythic Quest season 2 premiere Fridays on Apple TV+.

The post Mythic Quest Season 2 Pulls Off Another Standout Flashback Episode appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[harryandmeghansussex]

Day 18 of @defendingtheduchesses 's Meghan memories challenge.

Meghan's writing has always been one of my favourite strengths of hers. And I thought I would share one for day 18, so I picked this important one.

'What are you?' A question I get asked every week of my life, often every day. 'Well,' I say, as I begin the verbal dance I know all too well. 'I'm an actress, a writer, the Editor-in-Chief of my lifestyle brand The Tig, a pretty good cook and a firm believer in handwritten notes.' A mouthful, yes, but one that I feel paints a pretty solid picture of who I am. But here's what happens: they smile and nod politely, maybe even chuckle, before getting to their point, 'Right, but what are you? Where are your parents from?' I knew it was coming, I always do. While I could say Pennsylvania and Ohio, and continue this proverbial two-step, I instead give them what they're after: 'My dad is Caucasian and my mom is African American. I'm half black and half white.

To describe something as being black and white means it is clearly defined. Yet when your ethnicity is black and white, the dichotomy is not that clear. In fact, it creates a grey area. Being biracial paints a blurred line that is equal parts staggering and illuminating. When I was asked by ELLE to share my story, I'll be honest, I was scared. It's easy to talk about which make-up I prefer, my favourite scene I've filmed, the rigmarole of 'a day in the life' and how much green juice I consume before a requisite Pilates class. And while I have dipped my toes into this on thetig.com, sharing small vignettes of my experiences as a biracial woman, today I am choosing to be braver, to go a bit deeper, and to share a much larger picture of that with you.

It was the late Seventies when my parents met, my dad was a lighting director for a soap opera and my mom was a temp at the studio. I like to think he was drawn to her sweet eyes and her Afro, plus their shared love of antiques. Whatever it was, they married and had me. They moved into a house in The Valley in LA, to a neighbourhood that was leafy and affordable. What it was not, however, was diverse. And there was my mom, caramel in complexion with her light-skinned baby in tow, being asked where my mother was since they assumed she was the nanny.

I was too young at the time to know what it was like for my parents, but I can tell you what it was like for me – how they crafted the world around me to make me feel like I wasn't different but special. When I was about seven, I had been fawning over a boxed set of Barbie dolls. It was called The Heart Family and included a mom doll, a dad doll, and two children. This perfect nuclear family was only sold in sets of white dolls or black dolls. I don't remember coveting one over the other, I just wanted one. On Christmas morning, swathed in glitter-flecked wrapping paper, there I found my Heart Family: a black mom doll, a white dad doll, and a child in each colour. My dad had taken the sets apart and customised my family.

Fast-forward to the seventh grade and my parents couldn't protect me as much as they could when I was younger. There was a mandatory census I had to complete in my English class – you had to check one of the boxes to indicate your ethnicity: white, black, Hispanic or Asian. There I was (my curly hair, my freckled face, my pale skin, my mixed race) looking down at these boxes, not wanting to mess up, but not knowing what to do. You could only choose one, but that would be to choose one parent over the other – and one half of myself over the other. My teacher told me to check the box for Caucasian. 'Because that's how you look, Meghan,' she said. I put down my pen. Not as an act of defiance, but rather a symptom of my confusion. I couldn't bring myself to do that, to picture the pit-in-her-belly sadness my mother would feel if she were to find out. So, I didn't tick a box. I left my identity blank – a question mark, an absolute incomplete – much like how I felt.

When I went home that night, I told my dad what had happened. He said the words that have always stayed with me: 'If that happens again, you draw your own box.'

I never saw my father angry, but in that moment I could see the blotchiness of his skin crawling from pink to red. It made the green of his eyes pop and his brow was weighted at the thought of his daughter being prey to ignorance. Growing up in a homogeneous community in Pennsylvania, the concept of marrying an African-American woman was not on the cards for my dad. But he saw beyond what was put in front of him in that small-sized (and, perhaps, small-minded) town, and he wanted me to see beyond that census placed in front of me. He wanted me to find my own truth.

And I tried. Navigating closed-mindedness to the tune of a dorm mate I met my first week at university who asked if my parents were still together. 'You said your mom is black and your dad is white, right?' she said. I smiled meekly, waiting for what could possibly come out of her pursed lips next. 'And they're divorced?' I nodded. 'Oh, well that makes sense.' To this day, I still don't fully understand what she meant by that, but I understood the implication. And I drew back: I was scared to open this Pandora's box of discrimination, so I sat stifled, swallowing my voice.

I was home in LA on a college break when my mom was called the 'N' word. We were leaving a concert and she wasn't pulling out of a parking space quickly enough for another driver. My skin rushed with heat as I looked to my mom. Her eyes welling with hateful tears, I could only breathe out a whisper of words, so hushed they were barely audible: 'It's OK, Mommy.' I was trying to temper the rage-filled air permeating our small silver Volvo. Los Angeles had been plagued with the racially charged Rodney King and Reginald Denny cases just years before, when riots had flooded our streets, filling the sky with ash that flaked down like apocalyptic snow; I shared my mom's heartache, but I wanted us to be safe. We drove home in deafening silence, her chocolate knuckles pale from gripping the wheel so tightly.

It's either ironic or apropos that in this world of not fitting in, and of harbouring my emotions so tightly under my ethnically nondescript (and not so thick) skin, that I would decide to become an actress. There couldn't possibly be a more label-driven industry than acting, seeing as every audition comes with a character breakdown: 'Beautiful, sassy, Latina, 20s'; 'African American, urban, pretty, early 30s'; 'Caucasian, blonde, modern girl next door'. Every role has a label; every casting is for something specific. But perhaps it is through this craft that I found my voice.

Being 'ethnically ambiguous', as I was pegged in the industry, meant I could audition for virtually any role. Morphing from Latina when I was dressed in red, to African American when in mustard yellow; my closet filled with fashionable frocks to make me look as racially varied as an Eighties Benetton poster. Sadly, it didn't matter: I wasn't black enough for the black roles and I wasn't white enough for the white ones, leaving me somewhere in the middle as the ethnic chameleon who couldn't book a job.

This is precisely why Suits stole my heart. It's the Goldilocks of my acting career – where finally I was just right. The series was initially conceived as a dramedy about a NY law firm flanked by two partners, one of whom navigates this glitzy world with his fraudulent degree. Enter Rachel Zane, one of the female leads and the dream girl – beautiful and confident with an encyclopedic knowledge of the law. 'Dream girl' in Hollywood terms had always been that quintessential blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty – that was the face that launched a thousand ships, not the mixed one. But the show's producers weren't looking for someone mixed, nor someone white or black for that matter. They were simply looking for Rachel. In making a choice like that, the Suits producers helped shift the way pop culture defines beauty. The choices made in these rooms trickle into how viewers see the world, whether they're aware of it or not. Some households may never have had a black person in their house as a guest, or someone biracial. Well, now there are a lot of us on your TV and in your home with you. And with Suits, specifically, you have Rachel Zane. I couldn't be prouder of that.

At the end of season two, the producers went a step further and cast the role of Rachel's father as a dark-skinned African-American man, played by the brilliant Wendell Pierce. I remember the tweets when that first episode of the Zane family aired, they ran the gamut from: 'Why would they make her dad black? She's not black' to 'Ew, she's black? I used to think she was hot.' The latter was blocked and reported. The reaction was unexpected, but speaks of the undercurrent of racism that is so prevalent, especially within America. On the heels of the racial unrest in Ferguson and Baltimore, the tensions that have long been percolating under the surface in the US have boiled over in the most deeply saddening way. And as a biracial woman, I watch in horror as both sides of a culture I define as my own become victims of spin in the media, perpetuating stereotypes and reminding us that the States has perhaps only placed bandages over the problems that have never healed at the root.

I, on the other hand, have healed from the base. While my mixed heritage may have created a grey area surrounding my self-identification, keeping me with a foot on both sides of the fence, I have come to embrace that. To say who I am, to share where I'm from, to voice my pride in being a strong, confident mixed-race woman. That when asked to choose my ethnicity in a questionnaire as in my seventh grade class, or these days to check 'Other', I simply say: 'Sorry, world, this is not Lost and I am not one of The Others. I am enough exactly as I am.'

Just as black and white, when mixed, make grey, in many ways that's what it did to my self-identity: it created a murky area of who I was, a haze around howpeople connected with me. I was grey. And who wants to be this indifferent colour, devoid of depth and stuck in the middle? I certainly didn't. So you make a choice: continue living your life feeling muddled in this abyss of self-misunderstanding, or you find your identity independent of it. You push for colour-blind casting, you draw your own box. You introduce yourself as who you are, not what colour your parents happen to be. You cultivate your life with people who don't lead with ethnic descriptions such as, 'that black guy Tom', but rather friends who say: 'You know? Tom, who works at [blah blah] and dates [fill in the blank] girl.' You create the identity you want for yourself, just as my ancestors did when they were given their freedom. Because in 1865 (which is so shatteringly recent), when slavery was abolished in the United States, former slaves had to choose a name. A surname, to be exact.

Perhaps the closest thing to connecting me to my ever-complex family tree, my longing to know where I come from, and the commonality that links me to my bloodline, is the choice that my great-great-great grandfather made to start anew. He chose the last name Wisdom. He drew his own box.

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Chapter 41

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/68678841

When they arrived back in the hotel, they looked  for the other band members, so they could tell them their idea. "Where have you been all day?", Chris asked them when they found each other at the bar. "Are you up to something?" Norbert gave Morrie a look. "Uh, well, we..." "We actually have an idea", Morrie finished the sentence. "Oh. And do you plan to let us take part in it?" "That's why we're here. It's about our housing situation. We think we deserve something better than these hotels here." He was puzzled that the band broke out in laughter.

"That's great!", Chris blurted out, "We keep sitting around in these doss houses. It's time for a change!" "I agree," Brad tossed in, "it's time we see the Avalon from the inside." "For starters", Matt added and they laughed again. "Morrie, you always have the best ideas", Chris said, putting an arm around the pianist. "The question is wether or not Virgil likes it", Matt pondered. "Could as well give us a treat, that old slave driver", Chris sneered. Morrie held up his hands. "Guys, wait! You misunderstood me! I don't mean another, bigger hotel, I mean no hotels at all!" Now he recieved questioning looks.

"Do you remember we used to live in a house once?" "That dump?" Brad lifted an eyebrow. "I don't say we have to keep it that way. We could restore it, give it a good beautification. And most off all, install an alarm system." "Do you plan to hide gold in there?" "No, but I'm sick of all those people breaking in our privacy, watching our every step, reporters that dress as pages and follow us around in the corridors to fill their gossip rags with stories. This has to end!" "That doesn't happen every day", Matt tried to calm him down. "Most people leave us alone." "It's way too often and also it's getting worse. We can barely move outside without being noticed and it won't be long until they start to bother us in here. In our own house we'd only have guests if we want them." "Well", Chris said and looked at Norbert, who began to speak.

"It makes sense, doesn't it? If we want us to have one last bit of privacy in the future we have to come up with something new." He sat up. "Just imagine, we can do whatever we want with this house, we don't need to do without any conveniences. And with our next tour in sight, I'm sure we can afford all this."

Their fifth album was out and they had planned a tour through Great Britain. They were finally popular enough to be allowed such privileges and surely Virgil's negotiating skills had been quite helpful too. It was the first time that their fans from outside Wellington Wells would see them on stage and the band was excited about it. The tickets sold like hot cakes. There was no need to worry about their financial status.

Chris nodded. "If you put it like this, it doesn't sound too bad." "Our own palace", Matt joked. "But no cheap compromises", Brad said firmly. "I won't live in a building lot. We'll wait until it's finished and it's gonna be awesome." "Deal!", Morrie concluded, feeling like a heavy weight was lifted from his chest.

The same day they sat down with Virgil to discuss their idea. "What do you think it would cost us to build us a residence...", Norbert began and eyed the others. "With five bedrooms", Brad added. "And guest rooms", said Chris. "And a bar", Matt proposed. "And a sound studio", Morrie decided, winning a lot of praise for that. "Hold your horses for a second", Virgil interrupted their creative effusions. "What quarter do you want to break down for this?" "We don't have to", Morrie said. "we still have this empty house in Hamlyn Village we used to live in. And that quarter was full of ruins." "We haven't been there for years though", Brad added. "We have no idea what it looks like now." "That's not hard to find out", Virgil said and then shortly paused, furrowing his brows. "I know an architect who's probably crazy enough to do this. I can't tell you the costs just now because we don't even have a draft." "Crazy sounds just right", Norbert said happily. "Just turn on your charms and he'll give us a discount." Chris smirked.

The next days were dedicated to their tour. It was another difficult time for Morrie. The media hype outside Wellington Wells was just as big. They were constantly dragged in front of a camera and asked for interviews. They also had another appearance in a TV show. If they wanted some calm and quiet they needed to stay in their rooms. And then they had to attend all these parties... For inexplicable reasons they were expected to go there. Virgil didn't grant them a lot of freetime and he and Morrie once broke into a fight because of that. Morrie felt sick seeing all those groupies swarming around. They also tried him and he had a hard time spelling out to them that he wasn't interested. On the other hand he had to pretend that he enjoyed himself at least a little bit. He couldn't watch Norbert all the time, who always stayed long at these parties and came back very clingy, as if he had to make up for something. Then again he was glad he could cuddle into Norbert when they were alone. Perhaps he just missed him. Then he was ashamed of being so leery. Norbert had his "dark past", but he did never betray him. Without him he wouldn't bear all that fuss, Morrie was sure.

Norbert didn't have an easy time, either. He too was hoping that everything would get better with their new home. Even though he didn't know how it could get better. He was still sitting on the fence. Their tour made them more popular, he couldn't hide from his fans anymore, especially not at the parties they kept being invited to. And he didn't want to hide. He loved to be in the center of attention. He wanted to savour that to the full and it was hard to hold back. It hurt Morrie and he understood that. But even if he wanted to hide, he couldn't, if he didn't want to add an angry Virgil to the scene. So he tried to bring all that in line, and it was very exhausting. Especially while watching his friends simply enjoying themselves without regrets. When he was back in their hotel room, he was mostly very tired and clung to Morrie, who thankfully didn't ask any questions.

At the end, he was proud of his success. Also Morrie was. It didn't leave him cold when his fans started screaming and crying at the mere sight of him.

Back in Wellington Wells, they started working on their new residence. The architect that Virgil had found created stunning drafts. Their own studio took shape and Norbert was happy he could spare himself the endlessly long and dry sessions in the Parade District. Everyone had his own bedroom and Norbert and Morrie designed theirs with ulterior motives. They installed the most modern safety system to avoid uninvited guests, so that was taken care of too. They had more freetime after their tour and it was a much more relaxed and happy phase.

When they finally moved in, a crowd of pressmen and fans gathered in front of their property, watching them walk in. Morrie had no trouble to be on his best behaviour, because he was sure to escape from the mass soon enough. Closing the door behind them brought peace and quiet. The band looked around in every room, made themselves comfortable and inaugurated their in-site bar when they had approved everything.

"I can't believe it's still the same house", Norbert said shaking his head. "Yeah, incredible what we got out of that old shack", Matt agreed. "It's about pulling the right strings", Chris added, thinking of Virgil. "And the right ideas." Norbert poked Morrie into the side, who waved them off. "Guys, I'm dead beat. Don't hold it against me if I won't last long tonight." "Are you kidding me? You're the one we owe all this, you can't skip out on us now." "Have at least one drink with us", Brad insisted and poured him a glass. "Sure, I don't mind one drink." "And then another one." "Don't push your luck."

Chris shook his head. "I wonder why you keep running away from all the fun. We're tired too, after all." "I'm not running, trust me, I'm way too exhausted for that." "I think you do." "So what? Try to stop me." "There, there, don't argure. Everybody can do what they want", Norbert interrupted them. "And if we want to fight, then what?" "Fair enough, but I don't bind up open wounds and don't give mouth-to-mouth respiration." "Not even to Morrie?" "He won't need it." "Oh, really?" Chris made a shocked face. The others laughed out loud. Morrie, who was taller than Chris, gave him a smugly smile. "Calm down. Have another one." Brad refilled his glass.

"Anyway, our nomadic life finally comes to an end", Morrie said happily. "Yeah, we won't run after these snooty TV stars anymore. Now, they will run after us", Matt agreed. Brad patted his shoulder. "Exactly. It's time we'll have our own parties. Can't wait to liven things up in here, make them beat a path to our door." "They already stand in line", Chris sneered. "I only need to open the door and we have a spontaneous party." "Please not today", Morrie said, "unless you want me to lose my self-control." "I see, baby Morrie needs to sleep."

Norbert stayed longer, celebrating with the others. Then he went into his bedroom and found Morrie lying in his bed. Norbert sat down next to him and grabbed his shoulder, carefully shaking him. "Hey, there. Did you get lost? This is my room", he whispered. Morrie opened his eyes. "I beg your pardon", he said affectedly and sat up. "In this case I better go." Norbert held him back. "No, you don't have to. Stay with me." Morrie stopped and looked at him. "You want me here?" Norbert ran a hand along Morrie's back. "That's right." "In your bed?" "Exactly." Their faces came very close.

"You don't have any...indecent plans, do you?" Morrie lifted an eyebrow. "What if I have?" Norbert kissed a trail along Morrie's neck. His lover closed his eyes with relish. His voice rasped when he said: "But it's not quite the thing, two boys in one bed." Norbert gently touched his chin and moved his head to look him deeply into his dark brown eyes. "I don't care what they say. I want you to shag me, right here, into this mattress, until I beg for mercy, because I love you." Morrie's eyes flickered. "It would be cruel to refuse...", he agreed. Norbert nodded when they leaned closer. Their lips met, and entangled in a kiss they fell into the sheets and loved each other as if it was their last night.

They lived in a paradise they had created for themselves, until things changed again.

One day, Norbert opened the door to his bedroom and was surprised to find a female fan lying in his bed, being very affectionate. After she had chased him through the room he hid behind his guitar and played a song for her, what made her stop and listen in awe. The problem was that he attracted more fans with this, who now filled the room. When the song was over, he ran out and locked himself in the living room, where his friends sat and stared at him.

"Why do you lock the door?", Matt asked. "Did any of you leave the entrance open?" Norbert sounded frantic. They eyed each other. "No, why? Did someone break in?" "You said a mouthful! A whole mob of groupies invaded my room!" His friends laughed. "Oh, there they are. We missed them already", Chris sneered. "Now seriously, you baited them yourself with your sweet singing voice", Brad said. "Snatched them away from us. And now you lock them out. That's not very hospitable." "So, they are your guests?" "What did you think?" "This isn't a cloister after all", Chris added. He got up and opened the door again. Outside, the confused fans were already waiting. "Don't mind him, he's a bit shy", he explained to them. "He doesn't look like that", one of them said leering. Matt poked Norbert . "Now be a good boy and give them a drink." Norbert, who saw no way out of this situation, played along.

They eventually had more visitors. The Make Believes didn't only let fans in, but started to throw parties. All kinds of celebrity from Wellington Wells gathered in their residence, TV stars, models, artists and other creative and influential people. Soon, it was a constant coming and going. Norbert found a lot of inspiration at these events. His feelings overwhelmed him on a regular basis, and he locked himself up in their studio from time to time, not to please Morrie, but to record his ideas. On the other side he felt trapped in a grotesque game. All that hype, only for five musicians. Sometimes he feared someone would notice what was actually going on, and their fame and glory would collapse like a house of cards. On other days he believed it would never end. And sometimes he wished it would pause for a while. It was tiring to play the game, to keep the balance, so he could always return to Morrie.

It hurt to could-shoulder his guests. He knew the word spread that he was dismissive. They began to avoid him, rallied around the other band members instead, whose popularity had already surpassed his. Nick Lightbearer was someone they swooned over at a concert, but they moved on when they got to know him in person. He had been mysterious for a while, but being dismissive didn't work as good for him as it worked for Morrie, who always had this cold and serious aura. The fans just stopped trying to get his affection because it was hopeless. He lost them, and he didn't know how to get them back. He was envious of his friends and sometimes started a fight with them for no other reason than to blow off steam. After that he felt even worse.

Sometimes he felt like standing in front of an abyss that was about to swallow him for good.

He wished Morrie would understand him, wouldn't leave him alone with this, watching him from a distance, showing his mistrust from time to time. It was obvious that Morrie was disappointed about how things turned out. And Norbert had the feeling that he put the blame on him.

Their relationship was already tense when Norbert saw Morrie sitting on a couch with another man, unusually happy and casual, until the man got up and left, not without giving Morrie a pat on his shoulder. "Who was that?", Norbert asked when they were alone. "Oh, you know, just the pianist of the Tunnel Rats, a very talented man. We had an inspiring conversation, nothing else." Morrie sounded defensive. "Okay...I was just thinking...He seems to like you very much." Norbert immediately wished he would've bit his tongue instead. "He's just one of the few pleasant guests that aren't blatant groupies or self-exposers who talk about nothing but themselves all day", Morrie snapped, mood seemingly ruined again. "I'm just glad you're having a good time for once", Norbert tried. "No you're not, you're jealous, and you have no right to be", Morrie blurted out. "I'm still not enjoying it as much as you." He made Norbert feel a pang in his chest.

"I'm not enjoying it." "It's plain to see." "You think so? I have a different impression", Norbert now snapped back. "They keep asking me: 'What's wrong, Nicky? Why are you so prude? Why are you so boring? Are you afraid of girls all of a sudden? Trouble getting it up?' It's a shame you don't notice that. I guess hiding in your room all thay isn't the best way to find out what's going on!" "I thought we didn't want to end up like this", Morrie said dryly, as if he hadn't heard Norbert, what steamed him up even more. "Is that my fault?", he shouted. "You could've helped me talking them out of it!" "I tried that, but give me one good reason why we shouldn't invite all stars of Wellington Wells!" "Not fundamentally, but the frequency", Morrie insisted. "It's okay for them! We still have our free days!" "We used to spend them differently!" "I can't do anything about that!" "Oh great, so there's no way out!" "None at all!" Morrie shook his head. "This is all a game for you, isn't it?" "You have no idea..." "No, you have no idea! You can always do what you want, enjoy yourself with anyone you like! And you like them all! It doesn't matter! Everybody can get a piece of the famous Lightbearer! Others have to choose, but not you! You don't know how it feels to be depending. Sometimes I wonder if you even know what love is!" Morrie left, slamming the door. Norbert stayed behind, feeling like Morrie had pushed him over the edge, and he was falling, falling...

He spent the night alone, because Morrie didn't visit him and he didn't dare to knock at his door. He had never considered to be not good enough for Morrie. But now the scales fell from his eyes. He wasn't as graceful as Morrie, he found himself rather clumsy around him, he wasn't as smart, he didn't understand music the way Morrie did, who must be tired of explaining it every time, and he couldn't hide how much he like vulgar parties. He had always admired Morrie for all this. He had never thought it could be the reason why they couldn't be together. The thought pulled him further into the depth. He started to fail at everything. He didn't spend time with Morrie and he was a miserable host. He locked himself up in their studio, not to work, but to drink. His inspiration was gone.

One day, he faced the inevitable. Their next performance was due, and he felt empty inside when he entered his dressing room. Now they were popular enough to have their own. The bright colors of his suit hurt his eyes. He wished it was grey. The face that looked at him through the mirror looked so wrong. That was him. Just a big fake. And today it would come out. Because he couldn't play along anymore. He couldn't even walk out of this room. Instead he locked the door and sat back down, waiting for something. The end of the game, maybe. At least something else than the loud knocking at his door, that made him panic. The band was outside, ready to drag him on stage as soon as they get ahold of him. He yelled at them to piss off, and that he wouldn't play a note no matter what they did. Brad promised he would break down the door and get him, so Norbert crouched under the table and waited for the threat to come true. Instead there was nothing to hear but his own quiet sobs. Then someone knocked again, carefully.

"Nick? It's me, Virgil. May I come in?" Norbert tensed up. "No...no...don't...don't bite, please, don't bite", he stuttered in between sobs. "I won't", the manager assured him. His voice was calm. "I just want to talk to you." "There's nothing to talk about!" "Then let me see if you're okay." Norbert hesitated. He liked the sound of his voice and he wanted to believe him. Finally he left his hideout to take the risk. After unlocking the door, he fled back under the table. The door was carefully opened and Virgil Dainty stepped in, tall, elegantly dressed and intimidating. But his eyes were mild when he crouched down to look at Norbert. "Are you hurt?" Norbert faintly shook his head. "Is it my fault? Did I stress you out?" "No...no...it's...", he sobbed, "just look at me! I'm such a fake!" He pressed his eyes shut and tears ran down his cheeks. "This is all wrong! I can't do this any longer!"

"You doubt yourself. Everyone has self doubts from time to time. I know you're afraid, but you can defeat it." "I can't", Norbert said fiercely. "This is the end! You have to cancel the show." "Who said you're a fake?" Norbert shook his head. "I just know it." "So, nobody", Virgil concluded. "If anything, they love you. They came all the way to see you, the Nick Lightbearer they know and love." "They don't know me. No one knows me." "Look, whatever you feel right now, you're not alone." Suddenly he had Virgil's hand on his back, that sqeezed him gently. "I'm always there to help you." "You can't help me with this. Not even you", Norbert cried and curled up into a ball. "Don't you want to try it out one last time? You didn't perform for a while. What if you only need to get back into the flow?" "No, I can't! I can't! Please, cancel it!" Virgil gave an impalpable sigh. "Well...you know, it's not beneficial to cancel a concert at this stage. The fans already payed their tickets, they won't simply go. It could get me into a difficult situation." Norbert silenced, quietly sobbing, waiting for Virgil to scold. But the manager remained calm. "I...I can't perform...I'd only embarrass us", he insisted. "I'm sorry, Mr. Dainty", he added more meek.

"Virgil. Just call me Virgil." Norbert's heart skipped a beat. "I'm sorry, Virgil." The manager reached into his pocket. "Would you like to try something?" His tone caused Norbert to look at him. The manager brought out a little jar. He slowly opened it and let a light yellow pill fall on his hand. Putting it between thumb and forefinger, he held it up. "It's called Joy. It's supposed to better your mood." "Candy, Virgil? Really?", Norbert asked, using their term for drugs. "Not that kind of candy, Nick. This is harmless. It's a medicine." "I don't know...me and pills don't go well together." "Do we have a choice?" Virgil looked firmly into his eyes. "And what if it's not working?" Norbert started to shiver. "Don't worry, Nicky. If that doesn't cheer you up, you won't have to perform." "You promise?" "I give you my word." Virgil handed the pill to Norbert, who hesitantly picked it up and eyed it warily. He sniffed at it, but it had no smell. Virgil waited. Norbert didn't believe that any miracle cure could help him out, but there was no return now. Lying the pill on his tongue, he noticed it had a pleasant taste of vanilla. Then he swallowed it.

[ariainstars]

Star Wars: Fatalism Against the „I Wish” Moment

Here it goes again, the question as to why The Rise of Skywalker sucked. Sigh. It just can’t leave me alone, can it?

After the first two chapters, honestly, I was expecting the sequel trilogy to become as good (or almost) as the original one. But precisely the last chapter set the seal on one of its worst problems: the lack of agenda. 

I love musical theatre. And one of its most beautiful sides is that it teaches you so much about storytelling. Now what makes a story, a character truly compelling? The conflict. Without a conflict, something that has to shift the narrative from A to D going through B and C, nothing makes sense. And in a good story, the conflict is set up right from the start. We meet someone and we are supposed to identify with them due to their agency. 

  Heroes With An Agenda 

To name an example, there is “Into the Woods”, one of my favorite musicals which retells some classic fairy tales with own interpretations and unexpected twists; and it opens with an iconic ensemble number called “I Wish”. (If you’re unfamiliar with it, you might want to check out the 2014 film.) We get to know a bunch of people who all want something, and we follow them through the narrative as some of them get their wish (though not exactly the way they expected it); then are confronted with the backlash, the consequences, the price to pay for the things they wanted. 

With Star Wars now belonging to Disney, it is only legitimate to make a few comparisons with Disney movies.

In The Little Mermaid, Ariel’s song is “Part of That World”, setting up her character as someone who wants for something that fascinates her: the world of humans.

Quasimodo, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, wants to leave his tower and live among other humans, even if only in for a day.

Belle from Beauty and the Beast is introduced to us explaining how she wishes to explore the world outside of the small village she’s living in.

A somewhat disappointing Disney heroine was Merida in Brave: despite the films’ title, the story fails at making its protagonist compelling due to her lack of agenda. Merida knows what she does not want, i.e. becoming like her mother, because she’s a different kind of girl: but she does not know what she actually wants from life. It is quite fitting that in the end she manages to restore and improve the relationship to her mother but does not really change her, or her family’s or her kingdom’s situation. Merida does not grow up. Her story is nice enough, but not really compelling.

Disney “princesses” are often criticized for wanting nothing but a partner from life, and sometimes settling down with a man even if that was not their main goal at the start. But we have e.g. Moana, a girl who wants to help her family and her people and to restore balance in nature. Not surprisingly, her story is interesting and convincing.

Antiheroes With An Agenda 

Perspective is hugely important for a narrative: authors can use it in order to manipulate the audience’s perception of a story in order to make us identify with someone although he is a negative character. Two examples I came across with lately are Joker (Arthur Fleck) and Hannah from the Girls TV series. Both these characters have personal agendas that in the end don’t get their fulfilment. 

We know from the beginning that Arthur will become the Joker, but the film follows him and his social background so closely that we watch everything from his point of view, which makes us sympathize with him despite what he becomes in the end. 

Arthur is poor, mentally ill, in charge of a sick mother, friendless; but he believes he can make a great breakthrough as a comedian. He is at the bottom of the social scale and still believes he can make it to the top; it is only all too clear that he is deluded and that none of the people he admires would move a finger to help him. Though he becomes a criminal, his story is a tragedy; he was born and raised under circumstances that hardly offered him room for a simple, satisfying life. His dreams were all he had. Which is why we feel with him, even if from a moral standpoint we know we shouldn’t. 

Hannah is a toxic personality if I ever saw one onscreen; but she officially is the protagonist, she’s female who wants a career, she has “friends”, she is “sexually independent”, so as female viewers we will automatically identify with her, or at least try. (Personally, after a while I came to the conclusion that about 75 % of the other character’s problems would quickly find an end if they simply shot Hannah and buried her without a funeral, with a few silver crosses to make sure she never comes back.) 

However, Hannah is not from a poor family, she has an education, she has friends. She has things she wants, nothing she desperately needs, like Arthur needs employment or medication. Her whole attitude is subject to her desire to become a famous writer, so her story is about exploring and observing other people’s weaknesses, often even eliciting them for the worse. I find it interesting that when we learn how she first met Adam, he caught her stealing. Apparently, Hannah never understood that you can’t simply take but also have to give something back. Their relationship is so typical for the story because it looks like Adam is using her (mostly sexually), while she is using him in order to make “experiences”, playing with his feelings instead of giving him the chance to grow and mature into a responsible man. Girls always had a bleak undertone; but by manipulating our perspective making her the pivotal character, the authors made us care about Hannah although she is someone who did not deserve it in the first place.

My guess: what makes these two antiheroes in the first place, from a moral perspective, is perhaps the fact that both feel entitled to their dream and won’t settle for less. Disney heroes usually get their wish fulfilment because they go through the moment of openly and innocently admitting their dreams without Arthur’s or Hannah’s latent arrogance.

Now to Star Wars... The Classics

One of the reasons why we so easily identify with Luke Skywalker in A New Hope is because he is introduced to us as someone who dreams. He has a personal wish - leaving his home planet, meeting new people, living adventures and contributing to the future of the galaxy. The “Binary Sunset” scene is not iconic without reason: in a musical, this would have been the moment where he would have broken into song. 😊

Don’t kill me, but Disney’s Hercules reminds me a little of Luke in his first grand scene: he also looks at a sunset, saying that he would go most anywhere to find where he belongs. (Maybe Lucas knew well why he sold the rights to Star Wars to the Disney studios of all places.)

This continues through his other two films: Luke always has a strong agenda. He learns the ways of the Jedi through Obi-Wan (who interestingly never actually questions whether he wants that at all) and Yoda, but his first priority always are his friends. Saving who he loves is what drives him on all of the time, even if this may seem foolish at times - like traveling all alone to Bespine where Han and Leia are kept hostage, or wanting to save his father although he is a dangerous criminal. 

  Star Wars In-Between

Rogue One and Solo are well-made, interesting films, too, because the protagonists know what they want. The Clone Wars is one long story explaining Ahsoka’s development from a Jedi to someone who relinquishes the Jedi’s ways. The Mandalorian wants to follow “The Way”, i.e. his code of honor, in order to help as many war foundlings as he can. This is what you need to do in order to make a story compelling. 

  Star Wars Prequels 

One of the weaknesses which I see to this day in the prequels is that we so rarely witness someone’s personal agenda; the stories are more driven by the plot than by the persons. A few desires are hinted at and never pursued. 

“I’m going to be the first to see all of them” (the stars). - Anakin in The Phantom Menace

“At last we will reveal ourselves to the Jedi. At last we will have revenge.” Darth Maul in The Phantom Menace 

What became of Anakin’s desire to explore the galaxy? And revenge from what, if you please? I can understand that the Sith were a byproduct of the Jedi’s rejection of the Dark Side, their weaknesses all projected unto them: but this also is never explored. 

What did Anakin, Padmé, Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon etc. want, after all? When did they ever say or show clearly what they wanted, and what they would do for the purpose? Qui-Gon wants to train Anakin by will of the Force, Obi-Wan wants to train him because Qui-Gon asked him to. The Jedi want to keep the status quo of the Republic and the Jedi Order. There is no actual heart-felt wish from their side. The only person relentlessly pursuing his aims is Palpatine, the mastermind behind the stage. 

Padmé has her political aims, but they are not a really personal agenda for her. She wants to help people who were enslaved or hungry or otherwise suffering, but she does not know such situations from own experience. Her personal wish is having a family, but in her case it is not as passionate as in Anakin’s, who had lost the only family he had with his mother. Add to this that the scene where she talks with Anakin about this desire of hers was unfortunately cut out from Attack of the Clones. 

The compassionate and protective Anakin wants to keep the ones he cares for safe. Interestingly though, the films rarely show us his perspective, we usually rather see other people reacting to him; and since the Jedi always brainwash him not to “let his personal feelings get in the way”, Anakin comes over more as a whiny brat than as a conflicted human being we can sympathize with.

Revenge of the Sith is, though a terrible story, a very well-made film and emotionally very demanding because Anakin finally takes his destiny into his own hands. But it is also not very satisfying, because he wants to prevent things from happening and doesn’t actually have a definite, positive aim in mind. Still when he speaks to Padmé on Mustafar he tells her that he would overthrow Palpatine for her and rule the galaxy according to their wishes; but even in this moment he sounds insecure and confused, and his ideas are everything but clear. 

  The Sequels

The same procedure all over again. Finn wants to get away from the First Order, but where does he want to go? It is only hinted at that he wants a girlfriend (“Do you have a boyfriend?”), and not thematized again. Poe already is a Resistance fighter from the start, no personal aim there either. Rey wants her family back: she does nothing but waiting. On Takodana, we literally see her running from her fate after her vision with the Skywalker legacy sabre. In The Last Jedi, she says she needs someone to show her her place. She says to Luke that she is afraid. Again, she has no agenda.

Kylo was pursuing Luke, but why? What exactly had happened between uncle and nephew before the fatal night at the Temple, why was Kylo’s resentment so deep? He killed his father because he was coerced; he did not actually want it. Later he wanted Rey, but why, if she was almost always aggressive towards him? 

The Last Jedi finally seemed to make up for all of these lacks. Rose was such a powerful character because while she always did everything in her power for the cause, she never forgot or let go of her personal feelings and desires, like keeping Finn safe, inspiring hope in the Canto Bight children, freeing the fathiers. 

The moment Rey ships herself on the Supremacy, Ben kills Snoke and then both team up against the Praetorian Guards is so powerful because both of them, at last, have an agenda, and they pursue it together. It’s a moment of relief for the audience, what we had been waiting for all along: finding out what all of this was about - the Force working in balance. Naively, many of us then assumed this trilogy would be about Ben and Rey finding balance and a happy ending together.

Then The Rise of Skywalker made our frustration flare up again. Rey wants to become a Jedi because Leia expects her to; she kills Palpatine because he wants her to do it; the voices of all Jedi encourage her… great. No personal agenda all over again. Ben saves her from death because he loves her, very well. Then he dies. Han, Leia and Luke all wanted him to come “home”, i.e. back to the Light Side, and they died for the purpose. It seems wanting something is dangerous in itself in this galaxy. And Rey ends up alone on Tatooine. Again, what does she want there?

So It Was All... Fate?

Han, Leia and Luke were much more compelling characters than Rey - their aims were sometimes misguided, but at least they had them and they were clearly defined. Even Palpatine has an aim: it is veiled (typically for him), but it is there. He knows that his spirit will live on in the person who manages to kill him. So, he is still more powerful than Rey. It looks like Rey defeated him, but the truth is that he used her naïve faith that she could erase him by killing him in order to reach his own aim: living on in a younger, more innocent person who believes that being a “Jedi”, she is doing the right thing. 

We may of course argue that the Force is behind all of this; but as intriguing as the Force is, it is not a person. When we follow a story, we want living persons to think and feel and suffer and be hopeful and joyful for. It is all very well if characters want different things or maybe want the wrong things; but at least, their wishes ought to be understandable, and if they don’t come true, we would like to know why, instead of being left with... “reasons”. It is hard to identify with a character if we never learn what drives them after all. I daresay it would be more satisfying to see them pursue an aim and fail, than never to understand what they’re about, what their heart’s wish is. 

I have argued over and over that the ways of the Jedi, i.e. sacrificing everything to a cause, and individual aims are naturally opposite to one another. If there will ever be Balance, future Force-sensitive creatures must find a way in between. But again, this is not openly said and the audience has to either resign to the fact that the films are badly made, or to scavenge them for months searching for messages. Of course, there is nothing wrong with using ones’ own brains. But I would like to leave a cinema after a Star Wars film feeling satisfied. The Rise of Skywalker did not only leave many questions unanswered; in many instances, it did not even start posing the questions.

“Into the Woods” is not a story with a happy ending. One of its messages is that you need to be careful about what you wish for, but I think that’s all right if the moral implications of getting one’s wish are explored. Which with the Star Wars prequels and sequels was not the case - people suffer and die for decades, and in the end, the story goes nowhere. The events of the prequels took place because “they were meant to”; same with the sequels. Anakin turned evil because it was his fate, his grandson the same because it was fate, Rey took over the Jedi mantle although she is not in the least suited for it, but it was her fate so we have to accept it. No wonder everyone is disappointed. 

Star Wars saga, what do you have in store next? After more than 30 years, I dearly hope, someone who actually has an aim and purses it this time. And doesn’t have to die in the process, thank you very much.