#let me tell you this movie is an act of brilliance

[legendarypicklesoulsludge]

Song of the Sea Full Movie

So I just recently learned that my favorite movie of all time was uploaded to YouTube for free.

It's an Irish film with beautiful music, visuals, and characters. A truly awe-inspiring work of art.

If your thing is thematically beautiful stories about grief, folklore, and family I Strongly recommend you watch this movie.

It is visually stunning and heart wrenching to watch and near brings me to tears every time. I just cannot express how much I love this film this film. If you've never seen it please put it on your watch list it is so worth it.

[cloud-acee]

[ breakfast bunch ]

office crush to lovers. wotakoi inspired. wc: 2757

the city was bustling with busy as per a usual weekday. heels clacked and leather shoes hurried on the sidewalks, navigating their way to work. that wasn’t the case for you. today was a day off work because of some event in another department that did not concern yours and sunwoo’s, allowing a day of rest.

it was past 9 am and you have just woken up feeling quite a bit mislaid, not knowing what to do. usually around this time you’d be in front of your computer, typing away your work reports while taking bites out of the breakfast sandwich sunwoo always got you.

not having the energy to figure out what to spend today for, you mindlessly scrolled through tiktok curled up in your bed until a message dinged your phone.

nunu: morning

nunu: u up?

two messages sent after the other popped into your screen and you immediately clicked on it, not quite eager, but excited to know whatever sunwoo has planned for the day just so you could join in. hence, you responded and exchanged messages after so.

y/n: yea why

nunu: bfast?

y/n: let usssss

y/n: but where?

nunu: hb that sandwich place where i buy our usual?

y/n: oooh bet i’ve always wanted to try dining there

nunu: aightt, you know my place just message me when ure near so i can wait by the bus stop

y/n: got it 🤝

y/n: i’ll get ready now bye bye

nunu: you be careful, see u !!

acknowledging his last message with a heart reaction, you locked and threw your phone to the bed as you stood up to get ready, your face planted with an unconscious smile. you didn’t really know if you were happy with the idea that you won’t be couch potatoing for the day, or because you get to see sunwoo.

he’s part of your everyday now, not only on work days but even on weekends where you usually meet out to eat and hang, having been alone in each of your apartments. the friendly company of each other brought you both comfort. at work you got to play adults, but outside work you both get to act like teenagers with your endless playful bickering, midnight ice cream runs, and tv marathons whether it's an anime or movies or series. you loved being with sunwoo.

not further delaying your movements, you hopped into the shower preparing for whatever is to come today.

sunwoo, on the other hand, was all dressed already. he opted to message you after he's ready to go out just to avoid the possibility of you arriving in the meeting place earlier than him, not that it was a chance at all, but he wanted to make sure anyway just so he knows you wouldn't be waiting all alone. he meant to ask you to breakfast last night but argued within himself, not wanting to appear too clingy. sunwoo has always been careful about how you might see him. he wanted to be around you, but not always, not too pushy to scare you away. he didn't want to be too obvious, especially not when he's had some feelings he himself is yet to confront.

he saw you as a colleague at first, he respected you as a workmate. sunwoo saw your brilliance and wit, and he found you admirable. he didn't even notice when he started to feel.. things, he thought for sometime he just saw the good things in you, not realizing it's past mere compliments about you that he kept himself. the man was falling, oh he fell quicker than he could keep track of his feelings.

but he would never admit them. not even to himself, perhaps to sunwoo, acknowleding the heart is followed by rejection. and he enjoyed being with you too much to waste the bond, so he settles with your friendship. not that he was complaining, if anything, he was grateful to even be close to you, and much happier that you two were the closest among your workmates. sunwoo was contented but he'd be lying if he says he wouldn't want anything more.

the walk down the bus stop didn't take long enough for the thoughts that preoccupied his head. anyway, sunwoo already got to the meeting place just before you messaged to tell him you were around 5 minutes away.

basking in the morning air, sunwoo was glad the traffic had died down, allowing him to enjoy watching the vehicles that drove by. each one of them dropping and picking up new passengers, until it was you coming out of the bus.

sunwoo stood up with a small smile as soon as he saw you and you shoot him a smile back as you observed his clothing, he was dressed in a hoodie and jeans, just as you expected.

"do you even wash that hoodie? didn't you wear that last week?" you asked teasingly as soon as you were in front of him. the small smile on his face that welcomed you fell into a playful annoyed face, “at least i wash my hair everyday.”

he likes teasing like this, “hey, you’re not supposed to wash your hair everyday because it’s going to keep the natural oil and stuff,” you huffed as you followed him walking. “so you’re supposed to stink?” he joked even more.

“no i do not stink!” you said loudly laughing in between. “you have got to stop believing everything you see on tiktok,” sunwoo exclaimed laughing along with you.

the teasing and the tiktok banter kept going until you were a crossroad away from the small sandwich shop marked with a logo familiar to you.

as soon as you entered the sandwich shop, you heard the old lady stood behind the counter chirp a greeting to the man who held the door before you, “oh sunwoo, good morning!”

sunwoo kept his hand on the door as you took your steps but his eyes immediately went to the old lady, greeting back to her with another “good morning” paired with a gentle smile.

she had went back to cutting the ingredients as you walked towards the counter with sunwoo, checking on the menu. you observed the store and it felt like a subway but homey, maybe because of the seats and tables that are not too fancy but neat and pretty in color. seeing the freshly cut vegetables reminded you of your hunger and the smell of the sizzling meat didn’t help either. you continued scanning the menu when a conversation between the two started.

“are you getting your usual?” asked the lady as she looked at sunwoo. “yes but i’ll be dining here this time, you don’t need to rush preparing it,” sunwoo answered in a chuckle. apparently, sunwoo’s habit was no different to yours, always rushing in the morning.

the lady took note of sunwoo’s additional coffee order before turning her head towards you, “how about your order, dear?” she was sweet. you felt no pressure choosing a sandwich for breakfast but you didn’t feel adventurous today so you went with the order sunwoo always brought you.

“i’ll just have the regular sandwich with mayo, onions, and cheese, but without the pickles and tomato please,” you answered politely as you pulled your wallet out of your bag to prepare payment. just before you looked back up at the lady, you added, “i’ll also have the same coffee sunwoo’s having.”

this time you looked at her and she had this quizzed look on her face, as if solving a math equation stamped on your face. you only looked at her with both your eyebrows raised, mirroring the same look of confusion as you wait for a response.

“oh it’s her!” she exclaimed with her face lit up. you couldn’t understand what she meant but sunwoo seemed to get it when his eyes squinted then grew bigger as soon as the thought registered. “you’re sunwoo’s girlfriend aren’t you!? the one he always buys this breakfast sandwich for!” the lady said excitedly, wrinkling the corners of her eyes.

sunwoo looked as speechless as you did, perhaps you were as red as each other too.

the lady smiled so big you didn’t have it in you to burst her bubble, so you just pulled your lips in a warm smile as you bobbed your head slightly. “he always did get me my breakfast sandwich,” you responded as an agreement to the sandwich part, glossing over the girlfriend bit.

“what a sweetheart you have here, kindness in love goes a long way!” she said with the same level of excitement as she turned to sunwoo and talking once more, “and you have got a girl so pretty! how did a clumsy sunwoo score such a lady!?”

sunwoo only laughed in embarrassment as he scratched the back of his head. the mood was lighter and you laughed with him too. he didn’t look at you but he played along ignoring the statement that made him blush, instead clearing his throat before speaking to you, “you can take a sit now i’ll take care of it.”

not wanting to protest, you only nodded your head and smiled once more at the lady before pulling yourself out of the counter. you chose a table just next to the window and settled your bag on it, with sunwoo following not so long after.

he slipped into the chair opposite to yours quietly but spoke eventually, “i’m sorry about that,” he chuckled awkwardly. “i knew her since i moved here for work and she suspected the extra sandwich i was buying with my usual order was for a girl,” sunwoo laughed at the memory.

rushing through the streets, sunwoo held his leather bag in his left hand before he got to the front of the sandwich shop near the corner of his apartment, pushing the door with his right hand. the old lady recognized him, he’s been a regular since around three months ago— right when he moved to the area.

just as sunwoo approached the counter, the lady beat her to it and asked, “your usual in 5 minutes?”

he laughed lightly answering, “yes, please. but with the regular sandwich too minus the pickles and tomato.” he says as he pulls some cash out of his wallet. this was when the lady noticed it, of the three months sunwoo’s been a regular, the last three weeks of his order included an extra sandwich on some days.

she couldn’t stop her tongue when she asked, “so your girlfriend doesn’t like pickles and tomatoes?” sunwoo was quite shocked, but he liked what he heard.

you were both new to the company but you came a bit later, resulting in the two of you working on some stuff together and sticking together during lunch breaks, having not much friends from the older employees. sunwoo found you so easy to be with. and quite frankly, you could say the same. you talked about a lot of things, especially anime. but besides your similar interests, sunwoo also learned about the absence of breakfast in your daily routine having such a shit sleep schedule that you wake up late and miss the time to prepare or buy anything to eat most days, if not every single day.

so one morning when he was getting his sandwich, he decides to buy two to give you the other one. he ‘accidentally’ ordered two so you got to eat it now because one was enough for him and it would’ve gotten stale if he keeps it for lunch. you do anyway, but you fish out the pickles and tomatoes before doing so. sunwoo mentally took note of the abandoned bits of vegetables and ordered one without them the following day.

you didn’t really think much of it then, just glad sunwoo was generous enough to share his food with you. sunwoo, on the other hand, was relieved. he wouldn’t really know how to explain if you ask him why he gets you breakfast.

claiming the paperbag containing the sandwiches, sunwoo thanked the old lady for always getting them done in 5 minutes. “oh don’t worry there’s not much customers anyway. you go now, you lovebirds have a nice day,” she grinned warmly.

it has become his routine since then, the lady’s too, that he had completely forgotten about the assumption she made months ago.

you intently watched sunwoo as he spoke of the memory so fondly. “i would’ve warned you about it but it slipped my mind, i didn’t really explain anything to her and just let her think of it like that, i’m so sorry,” he finished.

“no, no problem at all, it’s fine!” you answered wavering your hand in quite a panic, not wanting to make sunwoo feel bad.

you really didn’t want to sadden that lady with the information that you two, in fact, were not dating. but admittedly, being called that made your heart flutter. oh, who were you kidding? anything sunwoo did— anything related to sunwoo, made your heart flutter.

the lady was right, he was such a sweetheart. always so mindful when he was teaching you about the work stuff he learned about some months earlier than you, accompanying you to non-work events (who knew sunwoo would join you to a sticker convention), sending you tiktok edits of your favorite movies, looking after sickly you in your apartment, making sure he's got an extra hair tie in case you lose yours— the list could go on but it’s that sandwich that you look forward to most days.

upon having this surge of realization, you felt your cheeks heat up as you spoke shyly, “i mean, it wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”

sunwoo only looked at you surprisingly with his eyes looking even bigger than they already do, but he also looked confused as his brows raised and furrowed quickly as if he was figuring a puzzle out. his head jumbled with words to form whatever question was meant to be asked in a situation as such, which he had never been in. did you mean what you said? did it mean you felt the same way he did?

his brain was racked with so much thoughts that before he got to ask what you meant, the old lady had already dinged the bell, calling for sunwoo’s name instead of his order number. blinking away the moment, "hold on," sunwoo said as he quickly stood from his seat quite wobbly before approaching the counter.

you would’ve laughed at his clumsiness but you had to mentally scold yourself first, what did you just say? were you even ready for this? well, you’ll never be ready to face something this big anyway, not something as big as your feelings that caught you in those moments with sunwoo you wished would last a bit— a lot, longer. they crept up the very first time sunwoo bursted out laughing at a joke you made, it was this warmth that spread across your chest that made you realize that besides seeing him happy, you also liked making him happy.

oh this isn’t good. what a waste of friendship would it be if sunwoo found your feelings ridiculous, you would much rather choke to death instead of being rejected and having your friendship ruined.

maybe you’re over reacting, but what’s a girl got to do when she accidentally confesses?

you were so into your own thoughts that you didn’t realize sunwoo was slowing his walking still trying to absrob what you said. did you mean, it wouldn’t be.. so bad.. being his? sunwoo has always been gentle with you when talking about things in a serious light, but he didn’t find this time a good time to be slow, maybe he should just go for it?

you felt like you held your breathe until sunwoo came back, carefully placing your coffee and sandwich in front of you and his meal on his side. sunwoo's sat in front of you again wiping the pair of fork and bread knife with a napkin before handing them to you. you only quietly said "thank you," as you reached for them when he spoke.

"so you liked that, huh?"

looking up with your mouth agape, you were horrified. sunwoo had a smirk and his eyes twinkled with something that tells you this day was going to be about more than a friendly breakfast date, this one was a hole you both have been digging.

[cellarspider]

30/30 One last thing.

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We have come to the end of Prometheus. But depending on how you’re feeling about death of the author right now, it’s not. Not quite yet.

Because Ridley Scott had some things to say after Prometheus came out.

Two months after the movie's release, Ridley Scott gave an interview. Its original home has succumbed to link rot, but it’s still available in a couple places, in the Internet Archive and within the corporate acquisition mass that is Fandango, featuring a weird note of brand revisionism in the relabeling of the interviewer’s affiliation.

Now. Let’s begin by saying this: A movie is a movie. The things around a movie are not the movie. This seems obvious, but it’s to say that a single creative work can be viewed entirely free of outside context, and in most cases it’s best to assume that it will. If a director comes out later and tells people what their intent was, then that’s not part of the movie.

…But it can still sit in your brain for years, leaping out to ambush unsuspecting passers-by.

So! This interview. Ohhh, this interview. I’d forgotten most of it, because the final lines of it just knocked the top of my head clean off, so we’ll be discovering bits of this together.

We start from the end of the movie, with the interviewer asking about the openness of the ending to a sequel. Scott, among other things, said:

“I’d love to explore where the hell [Dr. Shaw] goes next and what does she do when she gets there, because if it is paradise, paradise can not be what you think it is. Paradise has a connotation of being extremely sinister and ominous.”

This came across well in the movie, though it was festooned with the random bit of organic bigotry from Shaw toward David. A short answer won’t capture everything, so I still have no idea if Scott intended for that to be so brayingly insensitive, this is the guy who was fine with Joel Edgerton as Ramses II. In any case, Paradise might be ominous, but Shaw’s not bringing along ideas that will improve it by any means.

This isn’t really the film we eventually got from Alien: Covenant. Is that bad? Honestly, I don’t know that either. Shaw as a character did not have a lot of depth in this movie. Noomi Rapace ended up playing her hurt very well by the end of it, but if that’s your standard of quality in horror acting, then Josh Stewart’s leading role in the grungy Saw-adjacent movie The Collector (2009) will serve you well.

I think they could have built something out of her character, but they didn’t. David is definitely the stand-out character from Prometheus, and they do at least focus on him quite a lot. But I’ve yet to watch Covenant, partly because the structure of it does not interest me. Also, because I’ve heard about what David does when he shows up on the new planet, and bad things happening to crowds are one thing that can make my brain wig out something awful.

Speaking of the Engineers, Scott speaks about their character:

“they’re such aggressive f**kers … and who wouldn’t describe them that way, considering their brilliance in making dreadful devices and weapons that would make our chemical warfare look ridiculous? So I always had it in there that the God-like creature that you will see actually is not so nice, and is certainly not God.” 

Again, we find ourselves at the casual gnosticism of the movie, in which the Engineers are kind of the demiurge in this context. Some christian-influenced people assume that if there is a true god, it must be omnibenevolent, and find the violent and threatening behavior depicted in the Old Testament to be at odds with their understanding of divinity. A lack of benevolence is seen as a sign that the figure depicted must be something else, something that may think that it is a god, but it is not truly, regardless of its role as a creator. Hence, the gnostic idea of the demiurge.

But Scott also seems to confirm my suspicion that he’s not aware he’s recreating gnostic cosmogony through Prometheus, because he doesn’t reach for any of the older sources or the language around him. He instead invokes a rather surface reading of Paradise Lost:

“ In a funny kind of way, if you look at the Engineers, they’re tall and elegant … they are dark angels. If you look at [John Milton’s] Paradise Lost, the guys who have the best time in the story are the dark angels, not God. He goes to all the best nightclubs, he’s better looking, and he gets all of the birds. [Laughs]”

Setting aside the fact that Paradise Lost ends with all the fallen angels having a bad time because God’s turned them into snakes, I will give Scott the tiniest bit of credit, there’s a bit of my brain that saw this and thought “this is a strong start”:

Scott eventually continues on the Engineers, and the sacrifice scene at the start:

“That could be anywhere. That could be a planet anywhere. All he’s doing is acting as a gardener in space. And the plant life, in fact, is the disintegration of himself.  If you parallel that idea with other sacrificial elements in history – which are clearly illustrated with the Mayans and the Incas – he would live for one year as a prince, and at the end of that year, he would be taken and donated to the gods in hopes of improving what might happen next year, be it with crops or weather, etcetera.”

Scott is misremembering some things here, which is understandable given the off-the-cuff nature of the remark, but it’s still worth correcting. This is a misattribution of Aztec rituals that would involve the sacrifice of a “teixiptla” representative of a god (such as Xipe Totec, Tezcatlipoca, etc). The Inca didn’t carry out this ritual–they did engage in a human sacrifice ritual called qhapaq hucha, but its form and function was not the same. The Classical Maya also engaged in different human sacrifice rituals, but there was also an emphasis on non-fatal self-administered bloodletting–Maya nobility in particular were often depicted shedding their own blood for this purpose.

This also, to my memory, conflates stories of european human sacrifice rituals, where crop failures are sometimes linked to the sacrifice of kings, such as Dómaldr in the Ynglinga saga, and noted in the placement and treatment of certain bog bodies. The Aztecs did sacrifice to the god Tláloc for crop for good harvests, but the rituals involved were quite different.

It should be noted, of course, that Tláloc was later syncretized with the Christian god during the Spanish conquest, likely as a result of conceptually linking Tláloc’s sacrifices to the demand that Abraham sacrifice Isaac. And, y’know, that conquest was concurrent with the Spanish Inquisition, and the wider religious belief that a heretical witch army was being organized by Satan to stand against God to forestall the Second Coming of Christ, with crop failures being the most feared result of their rituals.

I’ve added all these details not because I want to say Scott is bad for misattributing this stuff, people make mistakes. I have several hours’ access to the internet, Scott did not. However, it is worth noting: How we frame an idea can say a lot about how we conceive of it. Variations on these behaviors are found throughout history, and across cultures. Sacrifices and martyrs are powerful symbols still invoked in western culture today. There’s a potential wandering back and forth between appreciation and exoticization that Scott’s engaging in.

Then Scott says something that made me get up from my chair to find a book to shake at my computer.

“I always think about how often we attribute what has happened to either our invention or memory. A lot of ideas evolve from past histories, but when you look so far back, you wonder, Really? Is there really a connection there?”

Yes.

Yes there is. Ancient peoples weren’t stupid. Ancient peoples didn’t even necessarily have less information to work with than any one modern human, they just had different information that kept them alive and finding solutions to their problems, be it “I need to find food” or “how do I meaningfully participate in my culture’s artistic and governmental traditions, and should they even be followed at all?”

If you want a great and thorough examination of that, check out the book I gesticulated with.

Highly recommended. Graeber was an anthropologist and Wengrow is an archaeologist, and the two of them together are a force to be reckoned with. There are definitely subjects covered in this book that I’ve seen from different angles before, and I feel like their interpretation pulls in more context than I’d gotten previously. Especially pertinent to this, the first part of The Dawn of Everything is spent examining the origins of modern western thought on “primitive” cultures and their character and capacity, and then digging into what evidence we actually have on the subject.

But the movie does not, fundamentally, engage with cultures outside of westernized, christian thinking. Not to any serious extent, anyway. It has a certain worldview, and that’s fine. That can be explored intelligently, although we’ve seen that I think it squanders that chance. It’s fundamentally a christian-centric movie.

And despite Scott’s protestations in the interview that they toned it down, quite a few readers have already guessed how far Scott originally intended to go on that.

“But if you look at it as an “our children are misbehaving down there” scenario, there are moments where it looks like we’ve gone out of control, running around with armor and skirts, which of course would be the Roman Empire. And they were given a long run. A thousand years before their disintegration actually started to happen. And you can say, “Lets’ send down one more of our emissaries to see if he can stop it.” Guess what? They crucified him.”

Yes. Jesus of Nazareth was actually Jesus of Space.

This is why the movie says the Engineer corpse died about 2000 years ago. This is why they decided to destroy humanity. 

Presumably the original quote on the cross was “Father, forgive them, for they know not that we’ve got deadly black goo.” Engineer 23:34, I guess.

Now that the screams in the audience have hopefully settled down, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH.

Alright. So, this is bad. Let’s break down why, beyond the obvious questions about “why does nobody ever draw Jesus as bald, huge, and ripped.”

There’s a fake script circulating that actually has a decent interpretation of this: a human kid got zwooped up to be taught the ways of the Engineers, and sent back as an emissary. Why? Dunno. Also apparently the gospels that mention Mary and Joseph fleeing to Egypt with the baby Jesus were off the mark by a few lightyears.

This is laughable to christians, because “what if Jesus was an alien” is the sort of thing that twelve year olds come up with. It’s offensive if it’s taken seriously, because it says their literal god was actually a mortal critter from outer space. Ha! Your god is not all-powerful, or all-good. He’s not even All-Might.

But you know what’s almost worse? It implies that, sure, Christianity isn’t the inspired word of a deity. It also implies some level of exclusive factual accuracy to Jesus’ teachings, not shared with other religions. Jesus was a celestial emissary, endowed with the teachings that could save humanity, and his death doomed the Earth to the Last Judgment.

The Torah is insufficient, and all Rabbinic literature was produced following the rejection of the true way to salvation. The enlightenment of the Buddha counted for nothing, the Dao is not the way, Vishnu cannot defend or restore dharma, the Prophet Muhammad is only so valid as his acknowledgment of the Prophet Īsā ibn Maryam. 

All other faiths are superfluous under this premise. If people had just listened to Jesus and accepted him as their savior, everything would’ve been fine!

This is the one point of alien contact with western canon in the entire setting, after the deep prehistory of Skye. Every other literate culture that was contacted got the Engineers’ message wrong. Or they didn’t listen. Only christians got it right.

That’s incalculably bad. That’s not even counting the fact that the wall o’ artifacts that Shaw and Holloway presented included a notable oversight: the only two artifacts further from Europe than the Middle East are chronologically impossible, based on the movie’s own timeline. It implies the rest of the world was thrown in as an afterthought.

This whole Jesus thing is a piece, a big, jagged piece of why this movie drives me so far up the wall that I’m now residing on the ceiling. It’s not, as far as I can tell, actively malicious. It’s just dumb. It wasn’t thought through the way it should’ve been. If they wanted to do a movie like this, they should’ve gone all-in. Really dig into the implications of what they’ve done. 

And the movie seems wholly ignorant of it. There are basic questions presented to the audience, but there’s no deeper consideration that could make this respectful to anybody.

So, what are we left with?

A mess. A beautiful, stunted, confused mess that was poorly served by its script and lack of conviction.

The movie turned away from asking big questions, and focused instead on traditional horror. A genre that works best with good characterization to drive audience investment, but then it cut out most of the characterization, and what it left was scattershot. It gave us a flashback of Shaw’s childhood before we’d even really met her to understand why it was meaningful for her. The movie then failed to add any emotional weight to her.

The movie failed to give us characters with emotional weight or intelligence. It gave us a single, compelling character in David, driven largely by Michael Fassbender’s delivery and physical performance. It gave us a tactile, carefully constructed setting that was beautiful and often an accomplishment in filmmaking craft, but these spaces remained emotionally empty without a story that gave them meaning. It gave us the potential of something new, and then retreated to imitate the old.

I went into the theater in 2012 looking forward to a good film. I suppose this one has stuck with me more than a good film would have, but its primary value is as a flawed thing to critique, to learn from, and to put tooth marks on when the frustration gets to be too much.

Prometheus got one sort-of sequel in Alien: Covenant (2017), and it seems to have been abandoned. The first trailer for Alien: Romulus just came out the day I’m writing this, and it looks like it’s going to be just a monster movie.

If you want a good, modern Alien, play or watch Alien: Isolation (2014). Apparently its content was recut into a web series in 2019, though I can’t speak to the quality of that. For now, I’m done with the series. I’m not going to be rushing out to see anything new, because I don’t think it’s doing anything new. Prometheus could’ve been a chance to do that, but it failed.

Still. Writing this was fun, I will admit. My weird little obsession with this movie turned into a month and a half of writing and prepping this thing, totaling–Jesus E. Christ, over 82,000 words. I wish it could’ve been about something that hid more intellectual heft or careful thought than Prometheus did, but hey! There’s always next time.

And there will in all likelihood be a next time, as I’ve already started on another document. It won’t be for quite a while, though. This was a lot of fun, but a lot of work as well. I’ll be taking a break, and only releasing more stuff once I have it fully written ahead of time, as opposed to how I handled this one.

Thank you, brave readers, for making it this far. 

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Citations for alt-text rambles:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2023%E2%80%932024_Sundhn%C3%BAkur_eruptions#Eruptions

https://tubitv.com/movies/314320/the-collector 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dettifoss 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Codex_Magliabechiano 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tollund_Man 

https://youtu.be/nT2ueyFrVgk 

https://www.deviantart.com/pretty--kittie/art/Prometheus-Engineer-407316113 

https://nebula.tv/videos/hellofutureme-is-netflixs-avatar-any-good 

Overflow Ramble 1

Hey, does anyone else remember Stephen Speilberg’s War of the Worlds (2005)? I saw that in the theater, and I cannot watch that thing again. Yes, I was younger, but the overall content of that movie absolutely shredded my nerves to pieces. Even though I’d grown up knowing the full H G Wells story and reading things like The Tripods book series as a kid, Spielberg managed to make a movie that felt so viscerally unpleasant to me that it gave me nightmares for years.

My main theory is this: You know in movies that the protagonist is almost certainly going to survive what happens, doubly so in War of the Worlds because it was goddamn Tom Cruise. But my brain did not treat Tom Cruise as my viewpoint character. Something in me says “well, I’m not Tom Cruise, I’m one of those other people around him, and they’re all gonna die horribly.” 

This tends to happen with me in disaster films and similar stuff like that. I have to be real certain I want to be there if I watch a kaiju movie, for example. I can do Godzilla (2014), but I’m not so sure about Godzilla Minus One (2023). Shin Godzilla (2016) is off the table.

Horror movies have to hit a balance of giving people a rickety feeling of potential safety they want to preserve, rather than letting them feel too safe or too screwed. Too far either way and you lose people, either to apathy or just pure bad vibes. The paradox of enjoyable horror is that it can’t scare you too much.

Overflow Ramble 2

I personally don’t think the tone of Fede Álvarez’s horror fits with what I’m looking for in an Alien movie. The xenomorph life cycle worked best and most subversively when it was deliberately targeted, to take the sexual/reproductive menace usually placed on female characters in horror and forced it onto a male character instead. Álvarez has historically played that trope straight instead. From a horror perspective, that’s boring to me. The xenomorphs also appear to be aggressive monsters here rather than animals, more like Aliens than Alien. Not my favorite interpretation.

And to be honest, when I saw the trailer, my first thought was “Oh, it’s Sevastopol Station.” The setting looks exactly like Alien: Isolation, and there’s not a chance the movie’s going to outshine Isolation. That game’s only narrative sin was a bit of slow pacing toward the ending. Romulus’ trailer makes me think it’s going to go too far in the other direction.

⛬

(Previous) | (Index) | ⛬

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[talokanda-forever]

I am SO very proud of my people.

Yeah, this is long but these thoughts hit me hard this morning and I gotta let it out.

Angela Bassett did it. When I first saw the throne room scene where she stripped Okoye of her titles, I knew she was giving us an award-winning performance. Some will see this end result of her claiming her Golden Globe as black excellence...and it is. But black excellence is displayed by the hard work and commitment that began 2+ years ago when a heartbroken cast and crew worked through the devastation of losing Chadwick. That is who my people are...we persevere. The excellence is in creators and artists who dig deep to build worlds that ring true on the screen. So that those communities who are starving for true representation can take pride in what they are consuming; instead of feeding us the same old caricatures that some think should satisfy the call for inclusion and representation.

I think about the brilliance of Ryan Coogler. How he puts in the work, how he listens, how he INCORPORATES the feedback he receives, how he is a true CO-LLAB-O-RA-TOR. He didn't create the Talokanil salute, others did. But some would have brushed it aside because it wasn't their idea. He listened when Tenoch told him he didn't look Mayan and took the time to incorporate Tenoch's heritage into his script (we need that extended cut, y'all!). And I think about how during the filming of this very production, Ryan was subjected to racial profiling when he attempted to withdraw money from his own bank account. Cops called out and handcuffed (don’t get me started). Still, they continued. Through a pandemic, they stayed on course. Through Letitia's injury, they plowed through. THAT IS BLACK EXCELLENCE AND THAT IS WHAT WE DO.

Movies like this hit different for POC... they just do. On some level, they go beyond entertainment for us. Someone who has not suffered the exhaustion of getting beat up by society just for existing may not understand. It is a fucking breath of fresh air to look up at the screen and see cultures that have been shit upon--and in some cases exterminated--presented with the utmost respect. We hold them high as banners of pride. We don't want to go to the movies only to get beat up again by images that only denegrate vs uplifting our people.

I love the MCU. I've been there since the first available screening of IRON MAN. Can't tell you how many midnight showings I've attended. I'd be lying if I said it didn't feel a little (ok, a lot) more special that the first major acting award for an MCU film was from the BLACK PANTHER franchise.

Wakanda Forever! Líik'ik Talokan!

[cleoselene]

the top 5

So I'm not really a film buff. I like a lot of movies, but I'm a tv person. TV is my love, TV is where my passion is. And I've been mulling over the question of what are my actual top 5 favorite TV shows of all time?

I can tell you the top three easily:

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine - uncontested favorite show of all time. Perfect characterization. Covers nearly every genre you can think of. Intricate, deliberate, patient storytelling. Gets a reputation for being the "dark" Star Trek but is still loads brighter and more hopeful than anything labeled "Star Trek" after 9/11. The writing is so strong, the characters are so lovingly crafted, there are over 100 incredible episodes to dig into. It doesn't overwhelm you with anything, when the story is very serialized, it gives you a break. When the story gets too intense, it takes a turn and gives you something lighter. I have SO MANY OPINIONS about how fandom kind of lets me down in its appreciation of this show but my appreciation of it is perfect.

Six Feet Under - beginning to end, uniformly wonderful quality. Claire Fisher and I went through a few too many of the same experiences as young women in the early '00s. I think if we're lucky, we find a television show that portrays experiences in a way that are true to us, and Six Feet Under speaks a certain kind of truth for me. Claire and I had the same cynical views, the same confusion in early adulthood, the same flirtations with sinister older men, the same asshole artist boyfriend who got us pregnant and then acted like when she/I had to get an abortion it was all about HIM. That complicated, painful relationship a young woman has with her mother, that's fraught with fighting and pain and a fierce kind of love. And the most perfect, beautiful ending in television history. My only complaint with SFU is that Nate Fisher is an incredibly difficult character to sit through on rewatch (and on first watch honestly) but I forgive it because through Nate we get Brenda, who is the Difficult Woman that fandom always claims they want to have to love but always hates when they get her. Brenda is amazing. I love Brenda.

Twin Peaks - a multi-decade obsession that I don't think I need to get into too deeply here because I have been fawning over it on this blog for months, but a few notes: This show takes a single tragedy and doesn't allow you to get over it, in a television landscape that encourages you to consume a new violence every week and then forget about it, Laura Palmer's death has lingers with us for over three decades because it should. It should be terrible and awful and painful. Twin Peaks also came about when crime media like Silence of the Lambs was telling us that the true evil scary bad guy was a crossdressing serial killer, when television soap operas coded crossdressing as a deviant, evil behavior, and said, "one of our explicitly coded good people is transgender." Twin Peaks told us that the killer is not some weird other, but as it is in reality, someone more familiar and mundane that we try to imagine is a terrifying monster to cope with the brutal mundane reality. And that's just the tip of a massive iceberg when it comes to what this piece of interpretive art is tackling. The wonderful thing about Twin Peaks is that you can read a million theories trying to define exactly what it's about and they can all be correct, because it's not just about consumable tv violence or trying to make monsters out of the mundane, it's about how we perceive our realities and so, so much more. The iceberg's depth is endless.

and then after those top three, I struggle to round out the top five. I have other shows I LOVE, but hesitate to put in with these elite three, for a variety of reasons. I love Star Trek: TNG and Voyager, but the uneven quality I think kicks them off the top five. Voyager has brilliance but some really dog bad episodes, TNG has some whole bad seasons.

HBO's "Rome" is an obsession that was so potent while it lasted that I am tempted, but it was a 2 season show and the quality fell off badly because the plot was majorly rushed in S2. I don't think it qualifies for top five, either.

My most recent sci-fi obsession is The Orville in that it really comes close to hitting the sweet spots the 90s Treks hit within the limitations of shorter modern television seasons, but I don't know if it's a complete work yet. I HOPE NOT. Season 3 was as beautiful and wonderful as modern television gets. It's got major top 5 potential.

Legend of the Seeker is up there with Rome in that the obsession was potent but way too brief: a 2 season affair. It's tempting to put this one in the top 5 because honestly I had almost no complaints about it. It adapted absolutely dog-awful atrocious shit source material and Raimi/Tapert gave it the same magic they infused into Xena to make it a really fun, progressive show. I want to give it a top 5 spot just because IT DESERVED BETTER AND EVERYONE ON IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL. Also the fandom was super fun and I made really good friends in it and it was just a really joyful show to watch. It made me feel happy. TV doesn't make me feel happy enough anymore. Usually it makes me feel depressed *cough all the new Star Treks, cough* but Legend of the Seeker just lifted me UP. It was syndicated and I worked graveyard shift and I would get home after working all night at 7am and watch the new episode before bed and it was just. Such a boost of happiness.

Finally, I think Farscape deserves a slot. I don't know where. I am WAY overdue for a Farscape rewatch. After the roommates and I get through DS9 (one of them has never seen it!!) we are going to Farscape next. I always love telling people that Farscape is like Star Trek if Star Trek allowed itself to be kinky. What was that one TWOP description of Farscape? "American man lost in the Australian S&M scene." Roflcopter. Also, John/Aeryn is one of the more epic ships of all time. OF ALL TIME.

[missmaybe-not]

Kiss Me Quick, Ditch Me Faster: The 3 AM Adventure

Greetings, Maybe Nots and Maybe Yeses! Buckle up for a tale that starts with a smoking hot flight attendant and ends with a case of the disappearing acts that would make Houdini blush.

So, you know the drill – online dating, the thrill of the swipe right, the messages that set your phone on fire (literally or figuratively, 😜). This guy seemed like a dream come true: tall, dark, and handsome (those pictures looked like they were sculpted by the gods themselves. Seriously, the man was a walking masterpiece), divorced with a daughter, and living nearby. The catch? My crazy work schedule.

My "day off" coincided with his vacation, but alas, it was four whole days away. Now, I confess, the messaging banter was hotter than a habanero pepper, and patience isn't exactly my strong suit. So, in a moment of supreme (and possibly slightly sleep-deprived) brilliance, I suggested we meet... at the train station... before I went to work. At 3 PM.

Predictably, my date couldn't swing that time (shocker, I know). But hey, he could meet me at the station... after I finished my shift. Which, for those keeping track at home, ended at the ungodly hour of 3 AM.

Yeah, you read that right. Because clearly, that screams "normal first date" like glitter screams "subtlety."

Now, picture this: me, pulling into a deserted parking lot at 3:33 AM, looking more like a character from a zombie apocalypse movie than a potential love interest. But guess what? He showed up! And wouldn't you know it, we actually ended up talking for an hour and a half. Turns out, we had a surprising amount in common (honestly, the universe has a weird sense of humour).

The conversation flowed like cheap wine (which, ironically, wasn't an option at that ridiculous hour). We clicked, we laughed, and then... the kiss. Let me tell you, this guy could have given Casanova a run for his money. It was the kind of kiss that would make fireworks jealous.

Of course, things got a little heated (pun intended!), but a girl's gotta have some standards, right? Besides, a second (or third) date seemed way more appropriate for that kind of action.

We said goodbye, sparks still flying, and the date for later that week was still on. Monday couldn't come fast enough! Except... it did. And guess what didn't? My date. No call, no text, no carrier pigeon delivering a cryptic love note. Crickets. Absolute radio silence.

Finally, at 9:45 PM, a text. A lame excuse that wouldn't fool a five-year-old. Look, I get it, life happens. But a little communication goes a long way, people! After a less-than-stellar attempt at conversation (read: him pushing the "sex on the second date" agenda), I politely deleted his texts and his number.

So, the burning question remains: is this all that men want these days? No romance, no commitment, just a quick hookup? Maybe someday we'll have an answer. But one thing's for sure – this little Miss Maybe Not is still looking for a Maybe Yes who understands the power of a good conversation, the value of respect, and the fact that first dates shouldn't involve deserted parking lots at 3:30 AM.

Stay tuned for more dating adventures (hopefully less creepy and more chivalrous!), and feel free to share your own "Maybe Not" moments in the comments!

Until next time, keep swiping, keep hoping, and most importantly, keep laughing.

[tokyo-tower-symbolism]

Hi, sorry to bother you, I know that your analysis are mostly about the movie but I wondered if you had any thought on the differences between the series' and the theater's universes.

Oh I have so many thoughts about the differences between the movies and theaters universes, thank you for enabling me.

Admittedly for the first two stageplays, I've only read the manga adaptation instead of actually watching them, so I might be a little off when it comes to those.

Personally I kind of like the anime's universe a bit more, partly because that was the first one I saw, but mostly because the anime has more time and can do things that just aren't possible in the plays.

Like maybe I just missed something in the play, but Hikari never mentions the London Auditions in the plays. But like, Hikari in the plays only makes sense if she lost her brilliance there. Like Junna calls Hikari out for having no dream, but literally Hikari does have a dream, it's to be a star with Karen. Or how Hikari recoils when Karen says that the Hikari she knows would never rob someone's brilliance. Like those scenes only make sense if Hikari took part in the auditions before and lost

There's also some other things that just can't be in the play, like Nana's reruns or Hikari being trapped in the stage of destiny, which I get even if I'm still disappointed about it, but honestly what hurts the most is the lack of downtime between the auditions.

Like we can see the cracks start to form between Kaoruko and Futaba because of the auditions in the anime, but in the play that was pushed to the previous year's starlight, and it feels a lot more sudden when Kaoruko brings it up since the audience didn't get to see any of that. Or how we can gradually see Mahiru get jealous of Hikari in the anime, but in the plays it only comes up in their Revue and really doesn't even get resolved that well. Like Hikari wins and then they just move on because the next revue has to start.

But despite all that, I really do like the stage plays too. The shorter runtime means that they have to do more with what they got, and they sure do.

The characters are a lot less reserved and more animated. Plus we get to see a bit more of what's going on in their head because there's a number where everyone reveals their insecurities, whereas you're expected to infer a bit more in the anime.

For example, Junna has this thing where she breaks into laughter super easily as well as get disheartened just as often. You can see she is barely hanging on by a string, which really isn't that different from the anime where she's constantly overworking herself because she doesn't believe in herself.

Or how Maya isn't nearly as emotionally repressed in the plays, so she's allowed to be absolutely unhinged, which we don't get to see nearly enough of in the anime because she rarely lets that mask fall.

Some other stand outs are Claudine doing that thing with her hands all the time or how much more outgoing and energetic Futaba is in the plays. Although my one complaint is that Futaba is taller than Kaoruko, which just doesn't feel right.

The plays can show off the characters more. Part of it's just acting, like I mentioned earlier, but there's also how in the Edel Delight play where most characters got a song that could be fun and energetic, or deep and introspective. Although Michiru really should have got her own song instead of the duet with Shizuha, but that's neither here nor there. Plus the plays are allowed to add characters from other schools, whom I adore.

Meanwhile the anime gets to have way more happening, with the vocals and backgrounds and flashbacks making the Revues way more engaging. Plus it has more time so we get to see more of the characters in a show don't tell way, so they feel less over the top.

So yeah, I really like how both universes play to the strengths of their mediums.

[darlingshane]

I loved your Mikey One-shot!! It was so sad yet beautiful, the idea of him leaving behind a family is devastating. Thank you so much for your contribution.

i’m just curious do you have any WIPs slated?? I understand if you’re taking your time (can’t rush brilliance) I would just love to see a peak of the projects you may be working on if that’s okay!

That’s really sweet of you! 💜 Thank you for telling me! It was really heartbreaking for me to write that fic. I don’t think I’ll ever take a request like that again. I love writing angst, but I also prefer happy endings and people working out their issues, even if it’s unrealistic. 

And yes, I don’t wanna share much bc I start a lot of fics that I never finish, and I don’t wanna let people down by talking about something I’ll probably never post lol. But I do have A LOT of WIPs, some that I’ve abandoned just temporarily, and the few I’m currently working on that I’m really excited to share.

 — I have this Michael x OFC wip that came from a request that it’s bringing me so much joy to write, but it’s turning out longer than I expected. I had to divide it into chapters, and still it’s only halfway done. It’s about this OC that comes back home a few years after going away for school, and work, etc. She had a crush on Michael growing up, and those feelings return when they start spending time together. Michael falls for her too, but he’s really hesitant to act on those feelings for a lot of reasons. There’s some slow-burn, a lot of fluff, a lot of angst and family drama, a cute dog, some crack…

 — Another request I’m working on that I got a couple of days ago for Brax x Treasury analyst Marybeth in the movie that it’s almost done. That’s a one-shot too, it’s very light and sexy (I hope), and I'm trying to get it done by the end of this week. I’ve never thought of shipping Braxton with anyone in the film, but I really loved this suggestion.

— As for pieces that I’ve come up with on my own, – this one won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, maybe it will, Idk. But I have this fic with Shane x Reader that is very self-indulgent, set in an omegaverse world. It’s multi chapter, I have a handful ready to go, but I don’t wanna post anything until it’s all done.

— I also have a few ideas written to follow those two fics I wrote with Mikey recently (Afternoon Delight + Kiss the cook). 

And that’s all I can share that I can say for sure that I’ll post at some point.

[tinseltine]

#1 – EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE | A24 | Writer/Directors Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert - I was so mentally ready for this movie, as in the last month I rediscovered JJ Abrams FRINGE and have been Fringe Bingeing!  For those of you unfamiliar, it’s a Sci-Fi show from (2008-2013) about FBI agents who solve X-Files type cases, but rather than dealing with Aliens, the main through line story delves into a Parallel Universe, way before Marvel movies began giving us Multiverse storylines.

In addition, I’ve always told myself the reason things didn’t go as planned in this life is because in another life, I’m living large. I know a LeAnne Lindsay on another or other plane(s) has been living a life without fear and possessing gallons more ambition than I ever could muster. I don’t know why this gives me comfort, but it’s as if I can let myself off the hook by thinking, I did do things, just not here. These thoughts have been with me for many years and then one day I feel like I got proof. I have a chronic issue with my spleen often becoming enlarged.  I’m able to address the problem with acupuncture and have never (so far) needed an operation.  But one day I came back from a walk, took off my shirt and there was a thin horizontal cut across the area of my spleen. It was slightly bleeding like a scalpel incision had been made. Nothing had taken place while I was on my walk, didn’t go through any bushes, didn’t feel any pain, wasn’t even having a flare up. Eventually I chalked it up to the me in another Universe going under the knife for the same condition, perhaps she never believed in the benefits of acupuncture; and thru the Universal connection her scar somehow showed up on me, perhaps as a warning?

For all these reasons and more is why I was completely and immediately pulled into the Daniels Everything, Everywhere All At Once.  Which starts off normally enough – Evelyn Wang (Michelle Yeoh) is an overstretched first-generation Chinese immigrant who owns a laundromat with her sweet husband Waymond (Ke Huy Quan), who she pretty much ignores unless she’s bossing him to do some chore.  Their 20-someting daughter Joy (Stephanie Hsu) also feels unseen or heard by her critical mother and is struggling to make good decisions in her listless life – despite having a great girlfriend who seems to accept her unconditionally. A girlfriend, who is not invited to her grandfather’s (James Hong) party, celebrating the Chinese New Year, as Evelyn’s not ready to reveal Joy’s lesbian relationship to her old-world father.  But mainly Evelyn’s concentration is on preparing (poorly) for an IRS audit to be conducted by an awful looking, overzealous, IRS agent Deirdre (Jamie Lee Curtis), her best role in years!!!  It’s here in the IRS office that Evelyn first meets a Waymond, from another Universe who tells her she is the key to fighting a vast evil that threatens the entire multiverse.

Apparently, in all the other Universes Evelyn is awesome – a brainiac, a celebrity, a chef all possessing many accomplishments, but this Evelyn, as this Wayman informs her “you’re living your worst you”— meaning that every other possible Evelyn made more successful life choices. And yet, her failed existence is what’s needed to defeat this evil.

Collaborative filmmakers Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert, collectively known as the Daniels (feature debut, “Swiss Army Man”, 2016) have created a high-octane, intriguingly conceptual, action spectacle and philosophical look at the nature of existence — layered on top of an emotional mother/daughter relationship story of generational trauma, all told through crazy humor, disgusting acts and imaginative sci-fi premises.

I’m not sure I’ve properly sold the brilliance of the film. I know it’s way too soon to make these types of assertions, but this could become my #1 film of 2022. { Post update: And as you can see, that prediction held true!}

[butterscotch-brigade]

in the past few days ive been absolutely obsessed w that cr*ptobro island scam video and i think ive finally realized what it is abt this fucking coin thing that makes me so irrationally angry (aside from like. his weird animation and the fact that he is attached to a weird cr*pto scam)

this. this fucking creature. the way he is written just angers the fuck out of me. you can TELL they were trying to take some inspiration from robin williams as the genie from aladdin but without understanding what exactly made the performance so unique and memorable. robin williams had a script, yes, but a majority of his performance was just him improvising and being himself. and nobody can be robin williams. only robin williams could be robin williams.

did you know that they got someone else to voice the genie for aladdin 2, the aladdin cartoon, kingdom hearts, etc? dan castellanetta, best known as the voice of homer simpson. however it wasnt the voice he gave to the genie that made his performance cringe - it was the dialogue. without the improvised charm of robin williams, the writers had to try to capture the spirit of the genie through scripts alone. dan castellanetta, to my knowledge, followed every script he was given. now this is not a thing to fault him for - hes a voice actor, he got paid to do his job. but the point is that trying to capture and replicate the magic of robin williams' genie will always result in what feels like forced, cringe dialogue. these people dont truly understand the genie. they see a funny cartoon character who makes pop culture references and has wacky over the top animation and thats it.

this is a problem with many shitty cartoon characters/mascots nowadays, or even internet personalities like the nostalgia critic. people will see the genie and think "oh my god that is genius, lets make a character like that" without realizing what made him so funny in the first place. so what you have is a slew of unfunny, obnoxious, pop culture referencing characters who are trying WAY too hard to be the genie. "we just have them make funny voices and make them zip and zoom all over the place and maybe make some references to some other comedian or a meme or some movie thats 50 years old." its soulless. its absolutely soulless. and there are people who act like this in real life, peoole who think comedy peaked with references and exaggerated movement without truly understanding the brilliance of robin williams' performance, people who act like these cartoon characters in real life because as we all know life imitates art always no matter how shitty and this cr*pto b*tcoin scam fucker is just a reminder of that. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you

[doomedandstoned]

ALMOST HONEST Previews Raucous 3rd LP, ‘The Hex of Penn's Woods’

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By Billy Goate

Album Art by Francesca Vecchio

I'm a big fan of songs that reflect the regional lore of where a band hails from. Enter 'The Hex of Penn's Woods' (2023) by ALMOST HONEST, a New Cumberland, Pennsylvania act blessed with the boisterous energy of Red Fang, the harmonic luster of Crobot, and the riff-power of Black Sabbath. For this outing, the band says: "We did historical research, genealogical research, we traveled, we explored inside ourselves, we brought our emotions to the forefront and so much more to bring this album to life." Let's take a look at several of its 11 songs.

"Mortician Magician" introduces us to the record's magnetic guitar-driven sound. A tribute to B-movies, the song features bouncy drums, funky bass, ravaging riffage, clean, earnest lead vocals and aggressive backing vox.

"Laughter Of The Deer Owl" follows and welcomes in a band-made creature with the head of an owl, the body of a deer, the wings of a fly, and octopus tentacles to boot! "It appears," they say, "only to people who have lost everything including the will to live." You'll find the deer owl featured on the front cover artwork, which also gives a nod to "the Dutch Hex signs that you see on the side of barns throughout Pennsylvania." Brandon Yeagley of Crobot makes a guest appearance during the chorus.

The focus on weird cryptids continues with "Alien Spiders," which joins the previous track as one of the singles and features lyrics composed when two of the founding members were 11 years old. Front man Shayne Reed is on point with his guitar lead -- it seems to tell a story without words -- and the rhythm section is robust, giving way to hearty shouts.

"Amish Hex" rounds out the three singles with a tale of an Amish lad who gets picked on and discovers a book called (wait for it) The Hex of Penn's Woods. "The lyrics push forth powerful south central Pennsylvania imagery," says the band. This one opens with an old-style riff and has an air of mystery and tragedy about it.

Another track of interest to me was "Where the Quakers Dwell," which Almost Honest says is about the history of this area, "including local Native American tribes, fruit, traditions, folklore and geography." I'm once again impressed by how much thought the band has put into the songs on this album. The vibe is groovy, with a grindy midsection that reminds me of Stone Temple Pilots, but holds its own identity admirably.

There's plenty more to experience on this packed record, a tribute to weird, quirky metallic rock and dark folk stories, played heavy, bright, and tight. Almost Honest's The Hex of Penn's Woods drops on Black Friday on compact disc and in digital format via Argonauta Records (pre-order here). Stick it on a playlist with Lo Pan, Caustic Casanova, All Hail The Yeti, Sasquatch, and Freedom Hawk.

Give ear...

SOME BUZZ

Coughed up from a smoke filled corner deep in the Central Pennsylvania rock scene in 2012, Almost Honest is a four-piece riff conspiracy dipped in enough sludge to choke mammoth, enough groove to make the dead dance, lyrics that could summon a Sasquatch and make her sing along, and a tonal brilliance that was crafted by master sound-smiths and enchanted by sonic-shamans.

Helmed by the darkly dulcet guitarist Shayne Reed, driven by the jungle rattling bassist Garrett Spangler, lifted up by the immense leads of David Kopp and powered by the ent-war thump of drummer Quinten Spangler, Almost Honest has evolved into a rock act to be reckoned with. Their debut studio full length album, 2017's 'Thunder Mouth' showcases a clarity of direction all but unheard of among debut albums.

Two years and thousands of toured miles later, 2019's 'Seiches And Sirens,' an anthemic atomic payload, detonated on impact with the local music community and showed the Pennsylvania rock scene a new kind of animal. Their southern metal sensibilities and dedication to the craft of *the show* shine brightly and remind audiences that great rock can and *should* be great fun. All of these ingredients bubbling in Almost Honest cauldron, and it's easy to see how their brew appeals to so very many, from genre die-hards to even the most casual listener.

Not contented with their cavalier domination of Pennsylvania metal and hard rock, where they have been featured on hard rock radio staple 105.7 The X, Almost Honest has struck out farther, having toured — *flown their jolly roger* — all across the eastern United States and invading the dreams and streams of Asia, Europe, South America, North America, and Australia.

2020, a cursed year by any metric, should have been a circle around a brighter kind of star for Almost Honest, and everyone else. With tour dates canceled across the planet, and a creeping sort of dementia lingering over everything, it's easy to understand why so many acts took the year as a loss. Almost Honest, however, had not.

Focusing the energy they would have put into extensive touring and using ritual druid magics, they conceived, wrote, and recorded a brand new album: 'The Hex Of Penn's Woods.' A conceptual leviathan, 'The Hex Of Penn's Woods' boasts a nearly arcane dedication to lyrical content and wisely eclectic musicianship, recording and mixing from top-tier Dynamo Audio Studios, mastering from iconic metal production wizard Machine (Gene Freeman), and artwork by the grimly baroque Italian master Francesca Vecchio.

Almost Honest is poised to deliver more of their unique, creamy fuzz soaked, metallic prog-funk potion, with a riot punch live show that Pennsylvania head bangers have come to crave as soon as the world is ready

Follow The Band

Get Their Music

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

Lila Rossi: I’d Say She’s a Good Villain, but Then I’d Be Lying (300 Follower Special)

Deception and cunning are easily two of the most important traits an antagonist could have. It shows that even if they don't have the strength to overcome obstacles, their wit is more than enough. This kind of trait is why characters like Lex Luthor, David Xanatos, and Princess Azula are so beloved, simply because of how intelligent they can be as villains and pose a real threat to the heroes.

It's clear that the Miraculous Ladybug writers want Lila to be seen as this, but the writing seriously fails to back that claim up.

Easily one of the most controversial characters in Miraculous Ladybug is Lila, mainly for the writing surrounding her. But there was a time where she was actually more of an ambiguous character, mainly for the lack of screentime she had until Season 3. But unfortunately, the more appearances she's had have painted a very poor portrait of an antagonist.

Lila's Tragic and Sympathetic Motivation for Hating Ladybug

Lila's first appearance was at the tail end of Season 1, “Volpina”. She was a new transfer student from Italy, and quickly made friends with a lot of her classmates for the lies she told, including being friends with Ladybug (which Alya blindly believed without doing any research like any excellent journalist). But because of how close she was getting to Adrien, Marinette, in a rare act of selfishness, transforms into Ladybug just to chew out Lila for lying about knowing her, humiliating her in front of Adrien. And this is the only motivation we get for what Lila does afterwards.

I'm not saying that it's wrong for Lila to get upset at Ladybug for doing this, and I like the moment of weakness Marinette has, but this is literally the only explanation we get for Lila deciding to side with Hawkmoth, a literal terrorist. As much as I hated the way the arc turned out, I could still understand Chloe siding with Hawkmoth, as it was clear that Hawkmoth was manipulating her and taking advantage of her ego. Lila? Ladybug's mean to her one time, and that inspires her to conspire with a complete stranger who brainwashes people to attack the city, which endangers innocent people and causes God knows how much in collateral damage if not for Miraculous Ladybug fixing everything.

I just don't get how a single negative interaction with someone is enough to conspire with a literal supervillain. Even in Season 3, when Marinette and Lila truly became enemies, it was because she risked exposing all the lies she told, which could damage her reputation. Sure, it's petty, but it makes sense for Lila to want to keep up the illusion. If she was simply an antagonist to Marinette in her civilian life like Chloe was before “Miracle Queen” , I'd be fine with that, but the writers clearly want her to be seen as on the same level of evil as Hawkmoth. I'll get into why that doesn't work later on.

Why Lila is an Excellent Liar

In my Master Fu analysis, I had pointed out that despite all the flaws he had, the narrative insisted on portraying him as an incredibly wise mentor. The same problem applies for Lila as well. We're supposed to see Lila as an expert manipulator and liar, but her lies are insultingly obvious. She always claims to be friends with celebrities and does all these awesome things, and in an age where we can have almost any question answered thanks to the internet, nobody ever stops to question her.

It's even more frustrating when you hear Lila talk about saving Jagged Stone's cat, when Jagged Stone is established to be very fond of Marinette (evidentially more than his own daughter), and nobody ever points that out. I think if Lila's lies were more stories about her travels around the world than outright lies about real people, it could have worked. It'd still be hard to believe, but it's something.

But this is a problem with writing shows aimed at children. As much as we hate writers who need to spell out things to kids, sometimes, they just don't understand some of the media they consume. Seriously, I never got this joke in SpongeBob as a kid, and I can't believe Nickelodeon actually approved this.

So the dilemma when writing a show with children in mind is finding that sweet spot between assuming your audience can figure it out, but not being too vague in your details. It's even harder when you need to find a way to convey the fact that someone is lying without being too obvious. Unfortunately, the show clearly fails to do that

Okay, this is going to sound like an incredibly weird thing to cite, and I only know about it because I used to know someone who was a huge fan of the franchise, but the movie Monster High: Friday Night Frights does a better job of subtly explaining to the audience that a character is lying. Please, just hear me out.

The movie follows the main characters competing in their high school's roller derby for the season after everyone on the usual team gets injured, and the championship match is against another school whose team tends to cheat to win matches. How they manage to do this without getting caught is anyone's guess. While the main characters are practicing, their coach, Clawd, notices a spy for the enemy team taking video of them to study their moves. In response, he calls over one of the athletes, Operetta, to chew her out for her showboating attitude. In reality, he's alerting her to the spy. Only using facial expressions, he clues her, and by extension, the audience, in on the fact that they know what the opposing team is trying to do.

This soon leads to Operetta pretending to tell the enemy team about their secret plan for the championship match, which was really an attempt to outsmart them to gain the advantage in the final stretch. The brilliance of this is how the audience is informed of this with no dialogue, and there's no scene afterwards spelling it out for those who don't get it. It manages to convey deception without being too obvious that Clawd and Operetta are being deceitful.

I think if there were more subtle hints to show the audience Lila was lying, she would be seen in a better light. As it is, Lila's lies are just pathetic, and it's ridiculous that everyone believes her. Which leads me to...

Lila, the Master Manipulator

I once read a Star Trek: Voyager fanfic that poked fun at the series by claiming that the reason a lot of the dumber episodes like “Threshold” and “Twisted” happened was because one of the crew members was an alien who unintentionally produced mood altering pheromones, with Captain Janeway actually realizing they were all high because of said pheromones, while two of the unaffected crew members were wondering what the hell they were doing before they found out the cause. Why do I bring this up? Sometimes, it feels like Lila is an unintentional parallel to the alien in that story.

Like so many characters, it's clear the show desperately wants the audience to view Lila in a certain way, but her actions do very little to actually back up that claim. When she's not using lies to tell stories about so many famous people she knows like her uncle who works for Nintendo, Lila is using strategies to manipulate everyone that are so obviously deceptive, the Thermians could pick up on them. Everyone and their mother knows how ridiculous a lot of what Lila does in episodes like “Chameleon” and “Ladybug” are, and I've talked about them before, so I'll try to be quick.

First off, as someone who had access to accommodations through high school and has had assistance in college so far, there is no way in hell that Ms. Bustier should take Lila's tinnitus at face value in “Chameleon”. If a student has a disability that could interfere with the education process, physical or developmental, not only does the school have to evaluate their performance, and determine if they're eligible for an Individualized Education Program, or IEP, but her teachers would have to be notified in the first place. As her primary educator, Ms. Bustier would be part of the team to oversee Lila's IEP and determine what accommodations she needs to help her learn better with her tinnitus and arthritis. But because the writers don't know what Google is, they just ignore it,  assume that Lila can just say she has a disability, and have everyone believe it. Even when Eric Cartman pretended to be disabled to compete in the Special Olympics, he put in more effort to look the part, even if he looked like a caricature.

Then there's the fact that that in “Chameleon”, everyone just believes Lila when she says Marinette stole her grandmother's necklace when not only is said necklace from the Agreste line of jewelry, but Alya, who is Rena Rouge, can't pick up on the fact that it's a fake. All she does to justify these lies is come up with a sob story about how nobody believes her, yet nobody ever tries to defend Marinette except Alya one time, and it was after she got expelled.

Or what about in “Oni-Chan”, where Lila thinks having Kagami kill Ladybug while claiming she'll back away from Adrien is a good idea? Let's say Oni-Chan does kill Ladybug or at least take away her Miraculous, what then? We know Lila wouldn't go through with this promise, and as soon as Kagami sees her harassing Adrien, she'll be ripe for akumatization again. Overall, not a great plan.

And yet somehow, this last example is what made her worthy enough to become one of Hawkmoth's most trusted agents. I'm just going to say it: Lila is not a good fit for the power of illusion. Whenever she's Volpina or Chameleon, she always goes out of her way to make a big show instead of being subtle with her deceptions. “Chameleon” is the worst offender, as even though Lila gets the power to shapeshift into someone else, instead of being discreet and cornering people into kissing them and gaining their appearance, she just runs around to get Ladybug's attention instead of being subtle. Even Felix had the bright idea to pretend to be Adrien to catch Ladybug off guard. How do you lose to something that happened in “Felix”?

Despite all of these screw-ups, we're still supposed to see her as this master of deception worthy of allying with Hawkmoth in both his supervillain and civilian form, when really, she's a terrible liar on the schoolyard and on the battlefield.

Why Lila is an Important Character

In the grand scheme of things, Lila just isn't as important of a character that the show loves to parade her around as. She's nothing more than a plot device used to raise the stakes in an episode, given how much reality seems to bend over just to accommodate for her lies. Even when the show alludes to her being part of bigger things, like her deal with Adrien, or her rivalry with Marinette, they don't even go anywhere.

She just feels pointless when you remember Astruc's brilliant idea to force Chloe into being the final Akuma for the season while Lila isn't even mentioned once. She only really makes appearances whenever the writers feel like it, which is why it’s hard to take her seriously. Why should I take this character seriously as a threat if the writers refuse to take her seriously as a threat? Why build Lila up as a big threat and not give her a major role in the finale? Why even include her in the show in the first place when you could show Chloe being more manipulative to fill in the plots Lila plays a big part in?

As of the time I am writing this analysis, four episodes of Season 4 have aired, three of them have been about lies or deception, and Lila hasn't been mentioned at all. It honestly seems like she won't appear unless the writers need a easy way to drive up the conflict, so they can justify it by saying that Lila's “superpower” of lying is more powerful than the common sense of everyone else.

I'm sorry this post was shorter than the last one, but compared to Master Fu, there's not that much to say about Lila that I haven't already said. Even the show barely gives her any attention, so it's hard for me to really find a lot to talk about.

[sophieoverett]

Disruptions of Ritual and Inciting Incidents

I’ve been lucky enough to be a part of a creative development series lately which has come with a lot of great advice and guidance on storytelling, from the extremely specific to the really broad and sweeping. It’s covered everything from character motivations to specific genre structures to audience expectation to interpersonal conflict, but one of the things that has come up over and over again has been the idea of disruption of ritual as pivotal to the establishment of a story.

It’s been interesting to hear it articulated this way, because when I’ve taught creative writing in the past, and when I’ve thought about my own writing, I’ve always talked about this concept as the world we leave behind. It’s the pre-inciting incident stuff – the introductory grounding stuff – whether that be Harry’s life before Hogwarts, or the Bennet’s home before Mr. Bingley moves in next door.

You establish a world – or a ritual – and then you break it open.

It’s in the schism, in the disruption, where your story finds it’s legs and starts to move.

It’s had me thinking a lot about the relationship between the disruption of ritual and the inciting incident of a story, because in a lot of ways, that disruption of ritual directly sets up the latter. A story like Bridgerton has the disruption of ritual in Phoebe making her debut – a change for the whole family – but the inciting incident is really her collision with Simon Hastings and their mutual decision to fake a courtship. Similarly (but differently), Harry Potter has the disruption of ritual when the owls start descending on the Dursley home in the lead up to Harry’s birthday, but the true inciting incident is when Hagrid tells Harry he’s a wizard. Neither of these inciting incidents could’ve happened without the disruption to the character’s lives that got us there.

When we talk about inciting incidents, we’re ultimately talking about the point of no return for your protagonist. Where they either make a choice, or have a choice thrust upon them, it’s one they can never go back from.

How the disruption of ritual lays the groundwork for the inciting incident though is important. It’s not just creating the first bubbles of conflict to pop, but it’s a key part of establishing who your character is and what world they exist in.

But what does that look like? Generally speaking, I find it’s useful to think of this sort of pre-inciting incident (or disruption of ritual world) in three categories:

Change of Circumstance

Change of Environment

Change of Information

So let’s break that down a little!

Change of Circumstance

I think this one is probably the most common.

I’ve watched a lot of new movies lately and I think change of circumstance is at the heart of all of them – in Nomadland, Fern’s husband has passed away and she’s had to move into a caravan out of financial necessity; in The Father, Anthony’s daughter is moving to Italy and so she tells him he’s being moved into an aged care facility for his dementia; in Those Who Wish Me Dead, Hannah, a firefighter, has been benched after freezing during a fire which lead to the death of two teenage boys.

While all these changes are environmental too (which I’ll come back to in a second), they’re more punctuated by the impact these circumstances have on these characters – Fern is grieving, Anthony is losing his agency and independence, Hannah’s role in a job she loves has been diminished.

These changes to circumstance create the context for which the inciting incidents begin and ground the characters within their own emotional arcs. The inciting incident in Those Who Wish Me Dead is when Hannah finds another teenage boy in the woods who’s being chased by assassins; in The Father, the inciting incident comes when Anthony’s daughter hires a new nurse that reminds him of his other, dead daughter, in Nomadland, Fern connects with a seasonal worker at an Amazon factory who in turn connects her to the nomad lifestyle.

In this sense, the disruption of ritual starts a conversation that the inciting incident can either build off or interrupt or both. The examples above are all pretty big, but these sorts of circumstantial disruptions can be anything. They can be as simple as a promotion at work, a pregnancy, a new neighbour; or hell, you can go the other way, and get even bigger – start a war, go on the run, discover a new planet! What’s important though is that initial change of circumstance creates context for your protagonist and builds towards your inciting incident.

Change of Environment

This one is still pretty common, but I’d say it’s often used most efficiently and effectively in horror and fantasy.

Moving house or exploring new territory, whether that be campsites or cave dives or new planets or planes, is a natural way of putting your characters off-kilter and building environmental tension. This tension is really steeped in the unknown of the space your protagonist is interacting with, and in the promise of conflict within it. Movies like The Descent, Hush, Lord of the Rings and Star Wars are all fundamentally steeped in their opening acts involving drastic shifts to their environments that build conflict, whether that be because an environment becomes something to protect (Hobbiton in Lord of the Rings), or something that the protagonist needs to be protected from (The Descent), or that environment being invaded (Hush) are all factors that are essential to the story overall.

In these stories, these environments aren’t just a stage for the character to move across, they’re deeply interactive and often allegorical to the character’s circumstances.

My Neighbor Totoro is one of my favourite examples of this – Satsuki and Mei’s move to a new home whisks them into a magical world with soot spirits and forest creatures, but these spirits and creatures are an escape from the reality that they moved because their mother is sick in a hospital nearby. The environment they’ve moved to is them clinging to a child’s world as they live ever closer to their trauma.

The most important thing to think about with environmental change is to ask why? Environmental change isn’t about simply presenting a stage for your characters – all stories have that – but that that environment be a motivator in your character’s overall arc. After all, Nomadland might deeply love the American landscape, but Fern’s story is driven by circumstance, not environment, as I mentioned above.

Change of Information

Probably the least used of these three, an information disruption is often reserved for stories about whistleblowers or journalists. Spotlight, Bombshell, All the President’s Men, hell, even The Bourne Identity all rely on a transfer of knowledge as pivotal to creating the conflict that the story builds on.

Change of Information involves a character learning something that they didn’t know before, and the information could seem incidental in the first act (the journalist in Citizen Kane for instance learning that Kane’s final word was ‘rosebud’, or Adrian Toomes realizing there’s alien tech in what he’s been assigned to clean up in Spiderman: Homecoming), or it could be left as a landmine for our protagonists to discover (Spotlight did this by opening with the cops in the 1970s talking about the child molestation charge that our protagonists would start investigating in 2001), or be the overall driver for the film (Min-hyuk telling Ki-woo about the Park family in Parasite).

I think Change of Information set-ups though can also be broadened out to tie pretty closely with Change of Circumstances set-ups to the point that I actually almost considered condensing the two, but I do think they’re different enough to be untangled. Parasite of course straddles all three in its brilliance as the information Min-hyuk gives Ki-woo of the Park family creates both a change in circumstance and environment too, and Midsommar is a movie I’d consider to be all three too – knowledge changing hands is essential to that film overall, and the focus in the first act of Dani finding out that her sister’s commit suicide is pivotal to everything that follows. Her change of circumstances and environment hinges on her grieving her sister, yes, but the weight of the opening act is on the discovery of that more so than it is on Dani’s circumstances changing. Life goes on is, in many ways, pivotal to that first act.

Change of information, to me, is about a character’s awareness of something creating that initial disruption overall, and that new knowledge being the ultimate plot and character driver for the rest of the story. It’s the new knowledge or awareness that creates story mobility, environment and circumstance can just come along with it.

What are you talking about, Sophie?

Right, sorry, haha.

Disruption of ritual is ultimately the shift in the story that allows for the inciting incident to happen. It’s what creates the perfect storm of circumstance, environment and information which fuels your characters, but what you choose to prioritise and emphasise is going to impact the direction of your story and provide your readers or audience with the context that shapes their experience overall.

What drives your characters is what determines their path throughout the story you’re telling, and considering circumstances, environment, and the information they do or don’t possess is an important part of shaping that. You don’t have to pick one, of course – as I mentioned above, a lot of great stories embrace two or all three! – but thinking about each and asking yourself why and working out what’s the priority for your protagonist might just help you articulate the crux of your story and give you an opening act that resonates.

[binniesthighs]

call me babydoll | reader x chan

a/n: cuties!! hehe we’re finally getting...a couple things in this chapter that i’ve been wanting to share sooo bad! i added question marks to some of the tags to make it more of a surprise! i love hearing what ya thought of it! hehe <3 

Five 

Pairing: self insert, (?) x female reader x bang chan 

Genre: action, mystery and suspense, fluff, smut and angst 

Tags: (of this part) bodyguard au, secret agent au, royal au, moderndayprince!chan, secretagent!reader, secretagent!jeongin, secretagent!jisung, collegestudent!seungmin, royal!minho, informantandclubowner!changbin (loll thats so long), (?)!felix, skz side characters, adventure and mystery, action and peril, plot driven, running out of time, slow-ish burn, growing feelings, sexual tension, explicit language, mentions of alcoholic drinks and getting drunk, hehe bit of smut/suggestive content (tags omitted for surprise--nothing crazy to tag tho hehe), maknae line are my sons in this fic, binnie in this fic can fkn take me lol 

CWs: sizable shoot out in public club with several people involved, presumed that people die because of this event, lots blood and other wounds such as gunshot wounds, mentions of drugs (both recreational and hard drugs) mentions of weapons such as knives and guns--the whole scene is violent 

Word count: 8.5k 

Parts 

ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE 

“Five years later and I’m still tying your ties, F. Some things never change.” 

Jeongin cracks a smile, simple and cute, much like the man himself even when he has a handgun glued to his hand. 

“It’s still a harder task than some of the stuff that they have us doing. Not gonna lie.” 

You smooth down your partner’s lapels where he’s pinned a small pin of the ticking clock. While others would wear crests, the insignia that bonds you to the younger man is this this small instrument. He’s quiet while he watches you fiddle with his silk blue tie that compliments his snow white hair perfectly. 

“Are you nervous for tonight?” 

Your partner upkeeps his stoic façade the best he can, but tonight there’s something different about him. His silent answer speaks louder than he could ever admit. On the queen sized bed, Seungmin kicks his perfectly shined shoes while flipping through the channels of the TV with a staticky sounding click. Jeongin lightly brushes his hand over the diamond dangling earrings that twinkle as they are supposed to from your ears--likely they’re crystals, not the more expensive jewel. 

“I’m not nervous,” He finally sighs, but there’s a bit of a crack to his voice. “I trust you. And Two. I’m trying to focus on that.” 

“It’ll be fine.” You assure, “White Rabbit must have his own security that would be at his beck and call. If anyone shoots at us, they’re shooting at him. We’re not alone.” 

The young agent nods, then gives a little slap to the college student on the bed. “Get up. We’re leaving. Remember what I showed you?” 

Jeongin draws from the bedside a small handgun. It’s more decorative than protective, but still fires bullets that could save his life. 

“Keep it in your breast pocket. Make sure that no one sees it. We don’t wanna cause a scene.” 

Seungmin’s eyes widen as he feels its weight in his hand. “Got it. I hope I don’t have to use it.” 

“Me too,” You give the youngster a soothing smile. “And remember, don’t tell anyone your name. When you’re in there, your name is S. Better yet, it’s best not to interact with anyone.” 

He nods, then slides it into the thin fabric of his coat. The young man looks considerably more dapper with The Agency’s clothes: a deep purple velvet two piece with silver cufflinks decorated with white roses--another symbol that you’ve grown familiar with. 

The prince saunters up to the bedroom with a slick tap at the opened door. He oozes with regality; not like you expected any less. The royal has dressed himself magnificently without the aid of his help once more: a pure black silk suit with a smart pressed white button up that’s spotless with not one crinkle. The while shirt itself is adorned with two thin silver chains which stretch across his lower torso. At the neck where the shirt meets its last button, there’s a floral brooch: one more more white rose for good measure. 

“Wow!!” Seungmin respectfully bows. “Your Highness, you look--” 

“--I didn’t fuck up the hair, did I?” 

Chan grins as he brings his fingers through his newly colored hair; its much lighter than his dark locks had been before: now a shade of tawny brown. The change to his appearance had come at the request of the palace who suggested that he try to conceal his identity even further as to not arouse suspicion. 

“Handsome as ever, your Highness.” You sneer out the compliment. 

Since the previous night had turned sour, seeing eye to eye with the prince had become harder to do. It was a wild confliction of feelings when you thought more and more of it. With every glance that he would throw in your direction, along with way that he had stared at you all through breakfast, you couldn’t meet him. You felt as if you had borne a wound for him to see, for him to poke at--the secret kind that was best kept to yourself--and he had dug his finger in; he had laughed. 

The prince tilted his head, and you met his eyes for the first time since then. There was a softness about him when you knew that he was inspecting you. You knew you must’ve been overthinking it--and that was what made it so dangerous. 

“Looking stunning as always, Bee. I knew that you would wear that dress well.” 

You let the words, “Thank you,” leave your tongue before toying with the small handbag provided to you. As always, your thigh holster held steady under your dress. 

Four clicks at the suite door sounded, startling nearly everyone in the room, revealing everyone’s nerves which they had denied. 

“That’ll be Lee Minho.” Chan announced. 

Two answered the door in his own costuming. The two men bowed upon meeting, a usual meeting between strangers. The agent lead him to the room, and the royal buttoned his own suit properly. 

“Good evening. It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I’m Lee--” 

“--Minho.” Jeongin dryly cut, “We know who you are.” 

Luckily, you and your partner shared the same apprehension. 

“I’m Fox. You’ve met Bee. The young kid is S, he’s a new agent. The quiet one that let you in is Two.” 

Minho bowed politely with a slight blush. “You weren’t kidding when you said that you were well protected, Your Highness.” 

Chan chuckled in response then clapped the other royal by the back. 

“You look amazing,” Minho said to the prince who shooed him away with a humble hand. 

“You as well.” 

Chan sized up the royal who indeed looked like one. His suit was a simplier charcoal grey with pinstripes with a white undershirt that ruffled at the collar. Not typical of the royals that you knew, he also wore dangling silver earrings that would have never passed the royal standard for professionalism. However, it made sense considering that he had been of a lower rank. 

“Now that we’ve got the formalities out of the way, shall we head out?” Chan put a very obvious hand to the lower back of Lee Minho while checking with the rest of the group. “It’s best not to keep him waiting?” 

Your partner nodded and ushered the group out while giving his body one more pat down to ensure that all concealed weapons were in place. Two checked the assortment of knives tucked discreetly into his own jacket. The man had some kind of wicked and unidentifiable grin while he felt the metal against his fingers. You exited at the rear, feeling a hand tug at your arm. 

“--Bee, I’m sorry about what happened...I’m...I hope that you can understand my motivations as to why I said what I did, it didn’t seem like the right time--” 

“--There will never be a right time.” You tore your arm free. “Your Highness, what happened...that was a mistake on my part. I acted out of line. There will never be a right time because...I’m your guard, and you’re my prince. Do you understand?” 

“But Bee--” 

“--End of discussion,” The words burned in your throat seeing the way that he had looked at you just then, and it was clear that he definitely didn’t understand. 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

You had heard that the White Rabbit had been a prideful man--this was now an indisputable fact once you pulled up to the roaring nightclub set into one of the busiest streets on the avenue in Cairo. Everything about the place was showy and bright and outrageous. It was a miracle that the man hadn’t been caught considering that his home base was as obvious as it was. The entire front of the night club shone with the brilliance of a million stars in a hundred different colors. A giant marquee held the signage with the title of the place, “The Tea Party” coupled with the image of the white rabbit himself--the one from the old movie--a stout little thing with his pocket watch swinging from his paw. His neck was wrapped up in a white ruff, and he wore a frock pattered in red hearts. 

A line stretched from the front entrance for as far as you could see, and clubbers swung their bodies in tune to the muffled sound of the EDM music thumping from inside and throwing cigarette butts to the sidewalk. 

“Do we just walk in?” Seungmin hurriedly asked with nervous hands wrapped around his body. 

“We’re expected, so, yes.” You snaked your arm through Jeongin’s to look even less conspicuous. “Just relax,” You commanded the group lowly. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw the prince slug his arm around Lee Minho who appeared to shrink under the other man’s broad shoulders. 

Two large bouncers stood at the entrance with muscles swelling under their shirts stained pink in areas which you assumed to have been white at some point. 

“Names?” One of them grunted rather than spoke. 

From his pocket, your partner took out his very own pocket watch that had been hidden with the rest of your supplies upon arrival to Cairo. On the opposite side of the watch was engraved the two symbols intertwined: the white rabbit and the the white rose. The two men inspected it, nodded, and opened the door for your small entourage. As soon as you entered the booming central room, you could see Seungmin’s shoulders drop as he relaxed. 

“There should be someone meeting us!” Jeongin yelled over the sound of the white noise leading to the bass drop. Hundreds of clubbers danced with the music, throwing their glasses to the air and howling like animals. You wouldn’t have been surprised if at least half of them had been strung out on the very drugs that the man himself had helped peddle. 

The young agent pulled you closer to him as stumbling bodies passed. 

“They could be here. We have to be on our guard.” 

“Let me watch the prince.” 

Jeongin nodded, letting you recede to the back of the group where Two had tailed. His eye wound hadn’t healed nearly enough, so he opted to wear the sunglasses once more. It was likely that word had spread about the four of you escaped twice--his eye was evidence. From behind the group, you watched the way the the prince’s hand fell down hold Lee Minho by the hip, and the way that his fingers dug in there slightly. As much as you had denied it, seeing them close brought back the very covetous thoughts you tried to keep at bay. 

A slender woman with gorgeous tanned skin pushed her way through the crowd and set her eyes on the white head of your partner. Her dress was even thinner than yours, but she wore it as if it was her second skin. The luxurious red color contrasted perfectly with her dark hair and eyes. 

“Are you Fox?” She asked with a thick accent, and cascaded her hand down the young man’s arm. 

“Y-yes. I am.”

“Bun asked me to bring you to him. I know the way.” 

She let her hand fall into Jeongin’s who whipped his head back to you with dry lips that he wetted immediately. You had expected to have been retrieved by someone a bit stockier than this woman. 

“He’s trying to get our guard down.” Two said suddenly as he reached into his pocket to thumb over his stockpile of metal there. “Don’t you think?” 

The woman took your group near to the corner of the room where bodies didn’t linger for long, but were drawn in the mosh pit in the center. Tables lined these edges which were fashioned into booths with red velvet curtains for privacy to do much more sinister things. The room smelled heavily of pure alcohol spilled by drunk hands and of synthetic fabrics made of cheap plastics. A dozen different fragrances mingled into one dizzying mess: each a scent so different and chemical that it was toxic. 

She walked with a swing to her hips, all the way to a booth that was a bit larger than the others--you could only assume that this must’ve been his booth. The woman gestured for you all to enter before drawing the curtain. At the center of the table, the rabbit’s symbol had been burned into the wood. She wore some kind of thin diamond bracelet which she hovered over the image, causing a winding staircase to pop from the carpeted floor down to a hidden chamber. 

“Take the stairs, and it you’ll see it once you get down there.” 

Your partner have her a curt nod in thanks, then lead the group further down. A soft green and red glow emanated from the space below, also humming with a concealed type of music different from that which was played in the club. From here, it nearly sounded like jazz. 

The corridor under the club was bleak and grey with cement, but wooden crates lined it with stamps on the sides in numerous different languages. Your brain could only fathom where the contents had been before they ended up in this basement. It must have been millions of dollars just sitting undisturbed with enough firepower to blow up the whole building and more. 

“Guns. Military grade and a little more improper,” Minho sighed out. “He must have every model in existence here.” 

“Do you think that he has like...missiles?” Seungmin reached for his small handgun. 

“Ease up S.” You tried to contain your own creeping fear, “Those would be too big to keep down here.” 

“Who says that this is his whole stockpile?” Two deadpanned as he cleaned his glasses. 

At the end of the hall, one more bulky guard stood expressionless with a small sized machine gun ready in his hands. He opened the door without saying much else, letting loose the red and green lights you had seen before, and with it, the putrid smell of expensive drink and marijuana. 

The smaller room was only lit by strobes with multicolored gels, and it was dense with the smoke of many number of drugs and vices. There was a small bar with a bartender with bagged eyes and a swath of women in cocktail dresses and men with ties tugged nearly all the way off their necks with lipstick marks pressed into them. 

A single disco ball spun above their heads, spreading shiny squares all across the room. Even more guards waited in the same uniform, but these ones looked more expensive--likely his own personal detail wearing gaudy chains and wrist watches inlaid with diamonds and crested in real gold. 

“My friends! You were able to make it!” 

The man of the hour spread his legs wide on his leather couch set upon a lion’s coat rug, complete with a head and marble eyes and all. At his sides were two more women more unique than the rest: both of them was breathtakingly gorgeous, one of them jeweled like a queen with a thick gold choker that resembled that which old Egyptian royalty would. Her head was smoothed with no hair at all, but instead intricate and beautiful tattoos decorated her like some kind of otherworldly being. The other woman had a cat-like face with two differently colored eyes; one hazel green and the other icy blue contrasting with her fiery orange hair. 

“Carroll told me that you had a bit of trouble before you got here. I’m glad to see that you were able to get here in one piece. It only seems like things are getting more and more...risky these days. Even for people like us.” 

“We’re not “people like you,” Rabbit.” You pushed to the font of the group. 

The club owner himself was dressed in a purely white fur coat which you presumed to be made of real fur. Considering the material, it must’ve been made from the fur of snow foxes--an interesting choice considering your partner’s persona. The smaller man with a thick and muscled form took off his yellow tinted sunglasses to tuck them into his wildly printed shirt that had tiny buttons doing the work of keeping his chest covered. 

“Babydoll! It’s a pleasure to meet you! I’ve heard all about you. Your reputation precedes you.” He took a rather greedy bite to his lip whilst looking you up and down. The white dress must have been doing it’s job well. 

“Babydoll?” Chan asked with furrowed brows. “What is--who is--?” 

“As does your reputation, Rabbit. I wouldn’t have expected less.” 

The proud man snorted, “I hope this doesn’t mean that you’ve got any...preconceived notions about my lifestyle. Our dear friend Carroll doesn’t seem to.” 

“Of course not.” 

“And you...you must be the Prince of Bulgeun! His Royal Highness Prince Chan of the Crown!” The White Rabbit spread out his arms wide in welcome. “I don’t often get royalty in my club--lots of celebrities and the like.” He leaned over to one of his guards, speaking in Egyptian Arabic and asking for drinks for the group. 

“Yes. It’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.” Chan bowed deep. 

“So respectful!” The White Rabbit chuckled, “You can all call me Bun. We’re all friends here. And you...who might you be?” Bun pointed a finger at Minho who stepped forward. 

“Baron Lee Minho, of Bulgeun as well.” 

“Ah! And a Baron too! How did I get so lucky to have such honorable company?” Cat-face ticked her long nails against the club owner’s hand slung around her. 

“You know what we’re here for, Rabbit. There’s no need for theatrics.” Jeongin huffed his words out with a confident breath. 

“You’re the one that they call Fox? Rumor has it that you and Carroll have a rather...special...connection?” 

The bartender arrived with drinks, each of them looking expensive with flecks of gold leaf floating on the surface of the clear liquid. Seungmin shot an apprehensive glare once the glasses were left on a small side table. As had been discussed previously, none of your group had picked up a glass. 

The woman with beautiful tattoos stretched a hand down one of the White Rabbit’s thighs, reaching dangerously high between them; just enough to make you flinch from the forward action. 

“Baby, I see that you’re playing a dangerous game towing this Price around, so of course I’m willing to help a friend of my friend. You’re lucky that I’ve got just the intel that you need. Some people just don’t know how to shut their mouths, especially when the get a taste of what I’m selling.” 

“Oh? And what have you been hearing?” 

You eyed a leather chair across from him seeing an opportunity. 

“Your Highness.” You motioned for Chan to sit in the chair next to yours, swinging your legs crossed to peek from the thin white silk in full view for the Rabbit to see. After, you dipped your chin into your palm, just for the purpose of letting the front of your dress fall slightly. The prince remained quiet while taking his seat and spreading his legs out strongly. 

“If it’s compensation that you need Rabbit, the Crown is also willing to make offers for added...persuasion.” 

Chan crossed his fingers in his lap leaning forward. His words were slick and domineering--kingly even. 

“Is that so?” The White Rabbit tugged at his lip with his teeth, “I wasn’t aware.” 

“Double what The Agency is offering. If I like what you say.” 

The club owner scoffed with a grin, “Oh, you’ll like what I say.” Cat-face lifted his drink to his lips, then wiped off the excess off with her finger. Both of the body guards appeared to tense before he spoke and tried to be inconspicuous while they reached for their decorated pieces resting in their waistbands. 

“Hell, I’ll even tell you what they call themselves.” 

In your impatience, you leaned forward, “Who are they?” 

“They’re called The Spades. Some kind of new crime syndicate that’s been fucking up my business and making bargains with my customers. Of course, as you know...I work in a very lucrative business.” 

“Naturally.” 

“They’ve been stockpiling shit like crazy: all kinds of weapons, any kind that you can think of outside of fucking nukes. They’ve even tapped into drugs as well to make extra on the side. I don’t know what it is that they’re doing that makes them so appealing, but suddenly I’m missing out on millions because of those fuckers. They’ve got someone masterminding it all too--some crazed bastard. I’ve been trying to find him ever since they popped up.” He resumed his grasp on both of his women who cuddled into him. 

“Mastermind? The one who’s running the whole operation? You know him?” Both you and your partner locked eyes quick enough for the other man to not take notice. 

“No, one of his cronies. He runs the business. He’s illusive and fucking insane. Someone whispered once that he’s psychotic or something like that. You think that I’m bad...” 

“Who?? Who is he? Where can we find him?” 

“Slow your role there doll, I’m just getting to the good part.” The Rabbit nodded for another sip of his drink. “He’s got several names depending on who you’re talking to. Fucking funnily enough, I’ve heard that he goes by “Hatter,” or more commonly “Joker.” He deals in anything: arms, drugs, sex...and he works for The King.” 

“The King?” Chan butted in with the mention of a royal name. 

“Not your silly little king, prince. The King. The one who runs it all. He tells The Spades what to do. They’re everywhere, taking over every sector in every nation. They’re trying to dismantle it all--every political system, monarchy, presidency...everything. It looks like they’re starting with you, prince. The Spades preach about chaos. Every man for himself...but it’s a lie. Why the hell else would they be stockpiling? They’re trying to take it all over.” 

Seungmin gulped audibly as he sunk to the back of the group. 

“When there’s no more control the ones with the most resources always end up on top.” The young student whispered. 

“This King, do you know who he is?” Jeongin spoke over Seungmin to detract attention from him. 

“Nope.” The White Rabbit swung his legs up on the small coffee table with alligator leather shoes. “I’ve been a little focused on taking down the Joker at the moment, for your information.” 

“What’s your intel on him then? He must know how to get to The King.” Minho pushed to the front of the group right to Chan’s side. “We’re not satisfied with your information yet.” 

The Baron’s sudden demand surprised you: he had been timid before--so you had thought. 

The club owner looked to Chan, keeper of his “persuasion” who nodded to prompt him for more. 

“He’s on some island off Greece. Private. Tight security, the kind that could shoot you out of the sky.” 

“Impressive.” You tutted, feigning confidence once more. “What more do you know?” 

The woman with the bangled necklace whispered something in his ear once peeking at a small old-model cellphone in her hand, brushing her lips over his earlobe. Over the sound system, the jazz music turned sultry, and both women moved to join the other intoxicated clubbers in the back to sway around brass poles. 

“There’s the freckled bastard. He’s the grunt--and the one that’s been chasing you I think. Real nuisance isn’t he? He’s the Knave. Had a few run ins with him myself.” 

You thought back to the gas station and the black SUVs. Between all the shards of glass, it had been hard to make anyone out, but you had figured that he had must’ve been one of the men throwing their bodies out of the windows to shoot. 

The Rabbit chuckled out with some kind of hand signal to his guards. “Knowing him, he could be right outside my door for that matter.” 

Jeongin’s eyes flew open, sending you “the look.” Your time was running out. Judging by the way that you hadn’t noticed that the Rabbit’s women had cleared out the other clubbers from the room, they must’ve known something that you didn’t. The club owner stood up with a languid stretch and cracked his knuckles. 

“We probably don’t have much more time before they come in here guns blazing. Best protect your prince, hm?” 

“Rabbit! You must know something about The King?!” You crossed the room to grab at his frim and fuzzy arm. 

He slyly smiled, amused by your grip, “Like I said doll, no one knows much about him. Your Baron has got it right. Start with the Joker. But...” His grin cracked even wider, “Good luck.” 

Seungmin tugged at Two’s dress coat as the two bulky bodyguards took The Rabbit by the arms to escort him. 

“What's going on??” The young man’s voice cracked with urgency. 

“Ready that gun of yours.” Two said lowly with gritted teeth. 

He strode across the room with his fur coat lazily swaying, then raised the golden rings on his fingers to the air as he exited. He threw his yellow tinted glasses back on, before turning back to your stunned group. 

“I estimate that you’ve got...three minutes? --Oh! And one more thing!” 

The white fabric of your dress swept to the side, revealing your thigh holster which you grabbed at quickly. 

“What?!” 

“Every King’s got his Queen? Does he not?” 

The enigmatic club owner slipped into the shadows of his private room, leaving your group with the sound of clambering feet on the floor above, followed by muffled gunshots. 

“They’re here?” Seungmin readied his small handgun as he was told and looked to the ceiling where the lights flickered from the commotion. “They found us?” 

Two twirled two knives in his hands with a silvery glint. Both of the blades were a bit on the shorter side, but you were certain that he knew how to use them. “They’re always following us.” 

“We need to get out of here.” Lee Minho drew out his own gun concealed by his suit. It was custom with a pearl handle. You had seconds to make out the insignia, but you could make out the shape of what looked like a red rose. “The place must be crawling with them. We need to find the exit.” 

Your partner nodded while taking his own gun. “Stay close, Your Highness. Follow me.”

“Bee?” The prince called your name with a worried cross between his brows. “Give me a gun. Hand-to-hand is nothing against these guys. I’ll stay close. I promise.” 

While he held your eyes earnestly, the way that his chest heaved up and down told you something much different. 

“You can handle it?”

“I can.” 

Jeongin passed him a Glock from the holster strapped behind his shoulders. 

You made your way back through halls lit by hissing fluorescent lights with a white burn to them. The crates of weaponry stretched on and on, adding to your unease knowing what could happen if a bullet were to be fired in this hallway. Thick rats skittered in the dank edges of the hall and weaved between boxes labeled in Spanish. 

“Drugs.” Minho gripped his gun tighter. “From the looks of it, cocaine.” 

Above your heads, a giant boom resounded and dust with drywall fell from the lights that flickered harder. 

“Its a fucking maze down here.” Jeongin tapped at his watch in an attempt to find a schematic of the place. 

The college student wetted his lips. “At least we’re not up there with them.” 

“At least the lead worked out. We know more about these...Spades than we did before. It’s a start.” You tailed the back of the group with careful footsteps and the click of your heels against the cement flooring. 

Another resounding boom echoed followed by the shrill screams of clubbers above. It sounded hellish--you could hear the raw fear in their voices. The music thudded on, likely abandoned by someone running for their life. The Prince’s knuckles turned white holding onto his piece of metal near the front of the group. 

“F, you know the way up?” 

“I-I think. We should be approaching some stairs soon, but there’s nottelling who will be on the other side.” 

Two tore off his sunglasses and shoved them into his breast pocket. “We’ll be damn lucky if they haven’t found the hotel yet. If not, we’ve got to run.” 

“My laptop??” Seungmin whimpered. 

“That damn Chromebook? Don’t worry about it, your life is more important.” Jeongin scoffed. “The Agency can set you up with something even better.” 

“I can’t believe that at a time like this all I can think about is my stupid computer.” The young man shook the thought out of his head. 

“Stairs up ahead.” Jeongin pointed. “Get ready.” 

“Chan?” You pulled at the prince’s trim to his coat. 

“I’m fine Bee. Honestly. I trust you.” He attempted a smile. The same smile, that damned charming one that couldn’t get out of your head. 

Minho looked back to the prince too with worry, it had been the most sincere motion that you had seen him do as of yet. He reached out to squeeze the royal’s shoulder with a soft smile. 

“Don’t go dying on us Your Highness. Think about what that would mean for the kingdom?” He chuckled. 

“I’ll try my best,” The prince returned the gesture. 

Jeongin reached for the metal door handle to the teal green door cracking with paint. The sound of machine guns had grown even louder, followed by the sound of the shells hitting the wooden dance floor. The air was thin where it crept under the door and carried with it the horrid smell of smoking guns and spilled alcohol. 

“Two, Bee, form rank around the group, I’ll lead.” 

Two nodded, popping gum into his mouth and blowing large electric blue bubble. “Can do.” Both of his hands tightened around his blades.  

“One...Two...Three!” 

Time slowed the second that the door opened, and your ears rang with the deathly silence. Bodies to the left and right of you became a blur and they fell to the floor in the silence with their limbs twitching until they didn’t move at all. White collars turned red, as did the white tablecloths of the standing tables. The strobes pranced around the room in a multicolored shower that was as blinding and stained your eyes. 

The men in black suits and leather gloves scattered around the room with their red crests glinting. They shouted commands at eachother, but to you, all you could see was the way that their lips curved and cracked. In front of you, your partner leads with a hand gesture that you had memorized from training, and all of your focus was drawn the the back of the group. The trigger of your gun was cold on your finger: you pulled and pulled not even pausing to feel the way that it fought back against your wrist. The men were sprinting with their own guns tight in their hands, but each of them fell before they could get close. 

Two’s mouth was in a flat line as he threw tiny blades from his hands to the chests of men running across the balconies and hiding from behind tables. He appeared to have an infinite amount in his coat and saved the longer and more lethal ones for close connections, subsequently dipping his own fingers in red. 

The young college student trudged on in the center of the group with his head tucked firmly between his two shoulders. Clear streams of tears fell down his eyes, but he wiped at them furiously between each shot that he took with his small handgun. Next to him, the two royals kept their own heads low aiming shots around them to backup you and your partners. 

Their footsteps came echoing behind you, and you walked backwards, taking aim with one eye squinted, while barking out commands from your mouth that you barely even understood. Your heartbeat bumped in your chest nearly in tune with the thudding 808′s of the music that reverberated in your ears. Each of the Spades moved as if they were shadows over the bodies of the fallen, leaping and jumping, nearly floating over dining tables and sweeping off the glassware and silverware with them as they did so. 

“BEE, I’M ALMOST OUT!” Jeongin screamed to you nearly before reaching the front revolving doors. 

Two tossed another magazine in the young agent’s direction, then threw another dagger with startling accuracy. 

For seconds at a time you could see how Minho’s eyes had narrowed with his aim, and he too met every target exactly where he wanted. You figured that the royal must have trained himself well to have that kind of precision. The way that he appeared perfectly calm was startling: his dark eyes squinted and he turned his body swiftly with little effort. 

“Fuck--I’M OUT OF ROUNDS!” The prince bellowed before ducking under Minho’s arm which immediately swung over him. 

You closed in closer to the group, using your body as a shield for the prince’s back. 

Your partner cast aside fallen chairs and tables in his wake, as one of the thugs charged at him. In response, he threw his gun into his waistband, opting to slung the man with a hurried uppercut that sent him spitting blood to the floor before falling, “We’re almost there! Keep pushing!!” 

“SHIT!!!” Seungmin groaned out before dropping his small gun to the ground, he trembled with his leg dragging behind him, then soon his pants soaked with a dark stain to his slacks. 

“BEE LOOK OUT!!” A voice screamed, seconds before you could register it.

Your head whipped back to the chaos of the club, seeing the “freckled bastard” himself point his decorated riffle at you point blank with a wicked grin on his face. He looked purely evil. There was something about the way that his ears poked, or how his eyes upturned that made him look devilish when his pearly white teeth peeked once he took his shot. He had ashy blonde hair that had strung with sweat over his forehead, and blood wetted the tip of his dress shoes. He cocked his head to the side, as he did too with his gun before the deafening shot cracked through the room. 

You were shocked trying to memorize his face, and frozen in your fear from the barrel of the gun facing you right between the eyes. 

An excruciatingly tight grasp at your arm pulled you to the side before you could react, throwing you to the hardwood floors before whoever it was pulled themselves in front of the bullet. Your vision was rocked when you hit the floor, missing the glass revolving door by centimeters. 

“Y/N!” Your partner screamed, waking you from your haze as the room started to piece back together. “You good?!” 

Another hand grabbed you to your feet before shoving you through the door, lightly slinging your arm around his shoulder before taking your gun from your trembling hand to take a few more shots. You realized it was Two this close, and tiny flecks of red splattered at his neck. 

“Fuck--give me that--” You grabbed the gun from his hand to fire every bullet that was left at the freckled bastard until you couldn’t any more, and the cool of the evening stung at your heaving lungs once your group reached the sidewalk. 

Outside of the venue, clubbers scrambled and ran the streets still shrieking in their fear and tripping over their heeled shoes. 

“Chan?? Chan--where-where’s the prince??” The words spilled from your lips in your pure adrenaline. 

Right behind you only a couple paces away, the prince stood pale with Seungmin holding between them a groaning and gasping Minho who barely held on to the two men. A bullet wound soaked his black suit jacket, and the red crept up to his white frilled collar.” The wound made a hole right in his shoulder with a visible circle. 

Jeongin sprinted to the back of the group looking disheveled himself with sleeves hastily pulled up to his elbows. “Shit--shit!!” 

“S-move aside. MOVE!” You commanded the whimpering young man who gave you Minho’s other arm. You wrapped around his wasit and dragged the heavy weight of the man who had just saved your life. 

The prince dryly smacked his lips then scanned the street for more of the Spades in his daze. 

“Y-you okay?” The words dried up your tongue. 

“Yeah...yeah, I’m fine, are you?” His energy had been drained of him, and his knuckles were also cracked, likely from having to throw punches that you haven’t even seen him take. 

Gunshots echoed further down the street followed by the screeching of wheels and more panicked yells. The chirps of cop cars pulled up to the scene and their husky demands rounded up the escapees in rapid-fire Arabic. 

Jeongin sprinted back with his white hair bouncing to a taxi nearest an intersection. He threw the door open apologizing profusely the best he could before pulling the driver out of the driver’s seat and to the cement. He cursed out loudly in response to which Jeongin tossed out some bills haphazardly to his chest. 

“Get in, GET IN!” He called to your group while tapping on the metal side of the vehicle. 

Both you and the pricne guided the injured royal in to the backseat between you. 

“Minho--Minho, hold on--” Your nervous hands held his pale face in your palms. 

The tear of your dress filled the small compartment, prompting the prince to snatch his hand into the other man’s firmly. 

“Minho--you fucking dumb asshole--you had to go and he the hero didn’t you?” Chan smiled hopefully. 

“Ar-are you alright?” He coughed, “Your Highness?” 

“Shut up.” Chan ruffled his hair with another adoring smile. “It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.” 

Although it was silk, you used every inch of your dress tear to tie around the baron’s shoulder tightly in an attempt to add pressure to the open wound. 

“Bee--” Minho started with a lazy glare. 

“--Keep talking Minho, look at me. You’re gonna feel sleepy, stay awake. You did great, thank you so much for doing that to me. Thank you.” You grabbed his opposite hand firmly. “I can’t thank you enough.” 

Lee Minho laughed. “Don’t mention it. And--if you wanted me to keep talking...I wanted to tell you that you’re really stunning Bee. How you handled all th-that. I was really impressed.” 

“Hm, I was impressed too.” In his own way, like this, bloodied and a bit delirious, Lee Minho really was as handsome as he let on. 

The taxi car whipped around another corner with wind whipping in the windows and each of your masses jostled in the car as if bumped over the curb. The hotel wasn’t that far from The Tea Party, and you knew that any moment you would reach it, but each second stretched longer and longer. 

“Fox?! We’re not there?” 

“Fuck--Bee, the whole city is crawling with cops, everywhere I turn, they’re on the hunt, The Spades are everywhere I can’t make it back--no doubt they’re already there...” 

In the front seat, Seungmin clung to Two as if his life depended on it as his whole body shook and Two tore his own jacket sleeve to close off the young man’s wound on his leg. 

“Wha-what are we going to do?? S-shit!! Ouch!!!” The young student gritted his teeth in his pain while his leg shook terribly. He sobbed, “It hurts, really, really bad!!” 

“I planned for this.” Jeongin’s eyes flicked in the review mirror to you in the back. “I asked Carroll to set up for us a secondary place if something went down and we couldn’t make it to the hotel. I figured...if anything happened or if they found us--” 

“--Get us there, fucking drive Fox, Minho needs first aid, right fucking now, he’s bleeding too fucking much.” 

“I know, I know!!” 

“How far is it?!” 

“Not far, I promise, twenty minutes--tops.” 

“Make it ten!!!” 

Jeongin floored it, running lights and becoming a stream under the skyscrapers of Cairo. From the small skylight of the taxi, thin clouds streaked in the evening sky and mixed with the glow of the city. Far, far, above your head, you prayed for the first time in years that you could make it in time. 

Seungmin sobbed with puffy eyes from the front seat and writhed, “Hurry! Hurry!” He begged. 

Minho’s head lulled in the backseat as he bled though the white silk binding him. His head bounced back and forth from you to the prince with glossy marbles for eyes that blinked slowly. The prince rested his hand on the baron’s thigh and rubbed calming little circles into it. 

“Minho, you did so well. Look at me.” Chan coaxed, causing the other to smile adorably grim. 

Minho twitched before rolling his head over to the prince. “Your Highness, i-if I may be so bold...I-I’ve got...I’m crush on you.” He finished his sentence with a wrinkled smile. 

You scoffed out with a laugh while making knowing eye contact with the prince who laughed out lightly too. 

“He sounds like someone I know.” You winked at the royal. 

The taxi made one final turn to an alley filled with potholes that jostled each wheel of the car. 

“This is it! Right here!” The young agent whipped into a one car garage hidden into the alley. The darkness of the garage filled the car, and snuffed out all of the light from the street, and even muffled the faint sirens of police as they whizzed past. The night was still full of gunshots, but at least now they sounded far enough away to be safe. 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

The safe house was a modest two floored apartment outfitted with the normal security system of The Agency: window locks and cameras in every corner of every room. As expected, each of the rooms was covered in a fine layer of dust, and the old smell hung with flecks of the material stuck on lampshades and wafting in the light. 

Work had been delegated between you and your partners, with the two other men helping treat Seungmin in the second bedroom out of three while you and the prince aided Minho.  

The windows were left open to let in some fresh air, also letting in the faint sounds of the city which still surged with life even late into the night. Still, the smell of the desert came floating into the room with a welcome sense of tranquility. 

The royal lay on the bed with cracked pale lips while you set to work dabbing at his wound gently with gauze, cleaning the area around the bullet wound. Fearful to cause more bleeding, the bullet would stay where it was for a few moments more for another layer of wrapping. The prince remained quiet, passing you materials as needed with hands stained pink from the other man’s blood. 

“How are you feeling?” Chan quietly asked. 

“Hurts like a bitch,” Minho smiled, “You ever been shot before?” 

The prince shook his head. 

“Well, I hope that you never are. Feels like your whole body gets stirred up from the impact and then there’s the sting.” 

Carefully you pulled back the remains of the baron’s shirt while lifting him slightly off the bed. As you swept the fabric from behind him, you noticed the thin red line tracing around his shoulder bade which you figured to be blood at first. 

“What...what’s this?” 

“Oh,” Minho shied, “It’s a tattoo.” 

“You’ve got a tattoo? For a royal?” Chan slicked back Minho’s sweaty locks. “You really are full of surprises.” 

Gently you laid the baron back down to lay with his new wrappings. “What is it?”

He paused, wetting his lips quickly before he spoke. “It’s a red rose. It’s a bit large--I know--not typical for royals. Don’t worry, you’re the only royal that knows that I have it.” 

“Why a red rose?”

 Below you, Minho looked relaxed and calm, beautiful even like this bare-chested under the single lamp-light of the bedroom. 

“Well...you know the significance of symbols and insignias. We’ve all got our own.” He grinned out while playing with the prince’s free hand. 

“I’ve got my white rose, Bee’s got her clock: seems like we’ve all got our own thing.” Chan agreed, watching the way that his fingers interlocked with the other man’s. 

In the opposite bedroom, Seungmin cried out sharply to the tune of Jeongin chuckling out, “I’ve got you, you fucker!” The clink of metal fell into the little bowl they used: the bullet was out of the poor boy. 

You sighed knowing that the damage caused to your group could’ve been much worse, yet you had made a skillful escape. Still, the thought of the bodies littering the floor...the silence that rang in your ears from the pace of it all and how the energy of survival started to wear off...it was truly gruesome. 

“Minho--really, I appreciate you taking a hit for me like that. No one has ever done something like that for me...and you barely know me...” 

The baron smiled, taking your hand in his too. “Like I said, it’s fine. Had I not, you wouldn’t have been able to help us out of there...even if you were dragging my ass for the tail end of it.” 

The breeze flew in with the dusty curtains; just cold enough to make you shiver in your thin dress. 

The prince looked to the both of you, “What happens now?” 

Chan himself was a proper mess: he no longer looked like the perfect vision of regality from the earlier evening. He looked like a man, a regular man, scared, unsure, and confused. His knuckles were cracked...and you had promised that you had never wanted to see him harmed again. 

The prince’s eyes softened, softer than they had been, soft like they had been the evening before when you had broken. 

“We survive. The best we can. We recuperate for a couple days, and ask Carroll what the next steps are. I’d guess it would be Greece then.” 

Minho leaned up with a little grunt to face you. “I’m coming with. I can help. I can be valuable if you need another set of hands on a gun.” 

“I think you mean hand. Your arm is gonna be out of commission for a little while.” 

He smirked, “Still...” 

The sweeping red outline of rose peeked to his shoulder, and you wondered how far it really spread. 

“Bee, I don’t think that I’ve thanked you.” Chan let the words fill earnestly, throwing that same damned smile at you. 

“Chan...you don’t have to thank me. You’re my prince.” 

The royal nodded with a contented little grin that tugged a dimple on the side of his face. You found both men looking at you as such, as if they were waiting, or anticipating the unsaid as you were. 

Somehow, the room turned silent once more: a void quiet enough to hear your heart beating in your ears. 

You bridged the gap, pulling Chan close to you as you pressed your lips against his, using your stained hand to pull his lapel into your body while he melted perfectly into you as he had done before. His mouth tasted slightly like the salt of blood, but that was of no matter to how sweet he was when he gently let himself unfold for you, gasping lightly against you. Chan’s hand reached to your arm to caress the goosebumped skin down, giving you another reason to shiver. You found your own hand tie into his light brown locks and pull deeply at the roots with depths of curiosity and want. Your tongue gently explored his lower lip before teasing right into his mouth which was even warmer than you had imagined it being. 

Your other hand found the torso of Minho: bare and quivering under the touch of your fingertips which traced each muscle there. He let out a drawn out sigh, then drew his own hand down the curve of your body to your hip, finally working it back up over your belly to your breasts thinly protected by the dress. He sat up higher and brought his lips to the fabric, kissing right into your belly with the warmth of his mouth. He paused, giving you moments to crave that same feeling on your lips and prompting you to bow down and indulge yourself in the taste of his mouth too. 

Chan’s hungry hands came tip-toeing over your back as he watched, and slipped one finger under your thin dress strap to pull it down and press kisses to your shoulder. With his other hand, he let it fall down Minho’s back: over the red rose, right to his thigh which he squeezed at firmly: right between the heat of his legs. 

Minho was different from Chan: rougher with his advances, but still addictive in how he would test the corners of your mouth with each kiss more courageous than the last. He ruffled up your torn dress, then let the silk fill up his hands before pulling it in ways to meet your skin with his. Slowly, Chan did the same, edging a hand up to your ass from the frayed bottom of the once-gorgeous dress. 

The bed was just big enough for two, but with this new interlocking of limbs as close as possible, you melded into one. Both you and Chan crept over the man between you, painting the blank canvas of his chest with seething hot lips and biting at the flesh of his skin lightly. Minho’s back arched from the beautiful sensation, causing him to giggle in his euphoria. 

In the middle, you found Chan once more, and held him close, as close as you had wanted for longer than you had admitted. 

“Oh Bee...” He moans into your mouth while releasing all of his glee onto your tongue. 

“Chan, I’m not scared anymore. I don’t even care.” 

The prince shuddered at the thought, and held you back just as tight finding the corners of your dress to pull over your head. 

“Oh my god,” Minho adores you, then reaches out to pull you to his chest. 

This mysterious man, melts for you too, whimpering perfectly between your lips.  Your legs find their way around his thigh to grind at lightly. There's an innocence to his eyes, much like that of the prince: its a kind of blind adoration that you know all too well. His dedication to Chan, and his gesture to you: the thick bandages around his arm: you find your apprehension slipping to nothing. 

Your fingers loop around the white lace of your panties as you kneel above both men, and you swipe your thumb over both of their glistening and trembling lips. 

“Well boys, how about I’ll make both of you mine tonight?” 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz  @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @cherrychngkyn @bowlofblueberries @lmhmins @eunaeiekim

[namelesswolffreak]

"Boyfriends"

I've been working on this story concept for....3-4 years now and I've finally managed to work everything out to the point I'm confident in posting this little blurb of the main characters. So, I hope you enjoy and feel free to ask questions about them and their world.

Context: This takes place in a world of super powered people heavily inspired by MHA / Marvel / Miraculous. Waker (Way-kur) Atlas is Dare City's main hero who is put through quite a lot on a daily to weekly basis trying to beat the baddies and Cyrus Fauthrin is his infamous thief arch nemesis turned lover and best friend who causes trouble around the city just to get the Hero's attention.

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

The melancholy of the day was waning on Waker as he patrolled the quiet streets of one of Dare’s many neighborhoods which was quite unusual considering every seven seconds a villain was after his head. The sun was barely above the clouds, no one was really awake yet and the only thing that accompanied him was his footsteps as he jumped, hopped and skipped to the next platform he summoned under his feet. He happened to be bounding over Lay Wind Park, the foxes fast asleep in their dens to his disappointment, but the Hero Monuments were still a sight to behold in the early sunrise as they shone with brilliance in what little light was filtering over the surrounding hillsides.

The wind blew past his frizzed locks as he stood above the park near a tree in the shade, expression steeled and focused as he watched for signs of trouble as he waited for a certain someone to arrive. Today was uneventful and rather slow, the kind of day Waker preferred if he were being honest. Heaven knew being bored all day was ten times better than returning home to the countless kitchen sink surgeries he’d have to do with worn needles and his mother’s thread pinching into his skin as he sewed up bloodied wounds full of shrapnel and debris. Much better. The birds were chirping a happy, lazy song as they flew by on the breeze and the distant hum of an awakening city filled the natural ambiance of cicadas and crickets quite nicely as he watched and waited. He dare let out a sigh as the scene took hold of him fully, a warmth washing over him that he hadn’t felt in the recent weeks.

Which wouldn’t be for long as the rustling of tree leaves and a “Boo!” have him falling off of his platforms and hurtling towards the ground with an embarrassingly shrill scream.

“Waker!” A concerned voice follows as a blue blur dives after him.

Ground spiraling as he falls, Waker braces for impact, too late to conjure any platforms beneath him to break the fall so, he readies himself, waiting for the hurt and pain that would surely follow with some scrapes and bruises…………...But it never comes. He unscrunches his eyes and removes his arms from his head to see a blue, sparkling light surrounding him.

Irritation and embarrassment take over him immediately.

His face turns a copious amount of red as he’s carefully scooped up in pale arms that hold him close and, humiliatingly enough, in bridal style. Oh god no, he curses mentally, murmuring a soft “No…” into his shield of arms. This was so not how he wanted to show up in front of his partner after their long and grueling few weeks of not being able to see each other outside of villain fights and breaks in between their testing week.

The sudden warmth of a chest presses against his side and the delicate rhythm of a frantic heart race beneath his one hand as the other quickly grabs for his cape to hide his strawberry cheeks. There was no way in hell he was letting ‘he knew who’ see him in such a state, there was no possible way he could let the witch-like thief catch him like this. A brave hero didn’t get scared or spooked by rustling leaves and the word boo! Absolutely absurd! Though a voice in the back of his mind said he already had.

“You are such a fucking clutz, I swear.” And a huge scaredy cat, the blue-clad ravenette doesn’t say aloud, but his tone implies anyways. “I should take you to my ballet classes sometime, maybe then you’d actually learn some balance.” The comment only makes him clutch the soft fabric tighter around himself.

He’s loathing the thought of unveiling himself now, but he knows he’s been caught, his normally stoic or serious persona now broken and practically burned away as he knows his cape isn’t doing much to hide his warm face or the tenseness of his grip. Plans to forever sink himself into a hole where nobody could possibly ever find him again after this mess are shortly abandoned for now and gaining courage Waker swallows the huge lump in his throat and tries to cleverly reply. “H-hey, what’s a-....What’s up, Witch Boy?” And he knows the intended playfulness doesn’t go through as he’s met with a narrowed glare.

The other isn’t amused. “Witch boy, really? Did I actually scare you that badly that you lost a couple of brain cells?”

“Shu-shut up, Cyrus!” He defends as this “Cyrus” just sighs at him, though his stare more sly than pointed now.

“Get out of that stupid thing so I can see your face.” He says with a tremble in his voice that Waker can definitely tell is laughter, the prick. “Or I’ll totally drop you again.” And like hell he will, Waker knows, but he takes the threat seriously nonetheless and loosens his grip on the cape just enough to see the Ravenette’s brilliant and ever playful smile.

For a moment Waker just stares and admires him, those brilliant blues sparkling, no, literally sparkling as he says something Waker doesn’t catch. The sun is framing his face so perfectly in the light, highlighting those perfectly red cheeks he would love to kiss every morning, and the slight upturn of his lips as he smiles down in reverence at him, and the slow flutter of his lashes that compliment his features nicely. Though braided off to the side Cyru’s hair never fails to make him look so ethereal as the gentle morning breeze brushes back his loose strands. Waker swears it looks like its made up of space itself when he lets it go during the night time, convincing himself he can see stars within the strands when he stands beneath the moonlight. It doesn’t take much to make the hero swoon regarding his partner nowadays. Daydreams of peaceful nights alone on the couch watching movies together after his nightmares keep him awake and alert run through his mind, or the times Cyrus has saved him from getting beaten to a pulp and they spent hours talking over stitching him back together about nothing at all, and every single time Cyrus has stuck up for him at school, reminding him of the warmth this person carries with them and all the love and affection he’s constantly showered in when they’re together. It’s strange how much Cyrus has changed over the past few months from raging emo to ride or die friend, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. He doesn’t even try to stop the lofty sigh that escapes his lips as more dear memories cross his mind.

And Cyrus is all too quick to recognize that dumb look on his face.

“Oh, hell no!” Is the only warning he gets before being promptly dropped, this time no blue aura to save him from hitting the dirt below, landing with a thud. “Not this early in the morning!” Though Waker could have sworn Cyrus was sharing the same look with him not minutes prior.

“Ow! Why’d you drop me, asshole!?”

Cyrus cocks his hips as he floats there, his wide brimmed conical now covering his eyes in an intimidating manner, making him way more menacing than he should considering his current attire. “Oh please, don’t even act like you’re hiding that stupid look on your face, Idiot! I ain’t dealing with your whole sappy dappy act this early in the morning.”

By “sappy dappy” Waker knows exactly what he’s referring to and scowls accordingly. Apparently, holding hands and having morning cuddles while complimenting everything about Cyrus is considered sappy and lovingly disgusting. Well at least to some people, it’s called affection and admiration!

“It’s a look that means I like you, asswipe!” Waker shoots back, malice nowhere to be found in his tone though, barring more on playfulness.

“Do you think I’m in love with you or something!?”

And they then stand there -well float there- in silence, both looking each other in the eyes, narrowed brows testing the other to make the next move or say the next snappy comment. And for a moment it looks as if the words really have cut too deep, but Waker isn’t one to remain serious for long as his shoulders begin to shake, prompting the other to clutch his stomach and stifle a grin as their eyes water over with laughter.

“Oh, no, not me, I could never.” Waker quips, leaning back and hugging both his arms, not caring for the dirt now caking his suit. Cyrus is quick to come back with his own natural snark.

“Pfft, as if! Absolutely not. Me and you, the orange haired frizz ball who kicks my ass more than twice a week over that one time I stole a candy bar? You gotta be fucking with me!” He bellows, Waker taking note of the boy flipping upside down where he floats in the air, his face a contortion of joy and happiness as his ripped dress flows with the wind.

He finds the display rather adorable, recalling that such a thing only occurred by accident when the thief was getting emotional. His inept ability to control his powers never failed to amuse the Hero. The little wrinkle of his nose didn’t quiet his thoughtful admiration either as he blushed in between bouts of giggles.

"I wouldn't have time to be your lover anyways!"

“It’s only 6am, when can I admire my boyfriend so it fits within your busy schedule?”

And the laughter is immediately quieted, a heavy silence filling the air, even the crickets and cicadas falling victim to it. The world is waiting in bated breath as if listening to the drama unfold.

Waker holds in a breath. Oh shit, oh fuck, he really fucked it up this time! Way to go, Atlas, you really did a number on today!

…………

………….

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, I just did-”

“It’s ok……” Cyrus breaths out, taking a long drag of air before finally finishing. “It’s….ok.” He manages to lower himself to the ground, dress falling at his sides, and crosses his arms in doing so. “We’re-I’m going to have to get used to it eventually.” He shrugs. “Right?”

There’s a weight to his words as Cyrus steps closer to the redhead that Waker recognizes near immediately. They’ve had this talk before, a talk that has led to a misunderstanding or two between them in the past and a verbal fight at that. The term “Boyfriend.” It was a touchy subject to say the least and while it had been a challenge for even Waker himself to start using it, it also seemed Cyrus was struggling to accept the lofty title. A long time ago before the two even met, the word had a different meaning to it for them both, but Waker had long since come to terms with it himself, but understood Cyrus’ hesitation in saying the word freely. He considered his next words carefully.

“I know you don’t exactly like the ter-”

“It’s not that I don’t like it Waker…..”

“I know, Cy, but.” Failing to put his thoughts into words Waker scrambles forward to catch Cyrus’ hands in his own, pecking each delicately, square on the knuckles, gauging his reaction whilst he does so. When Waker is met with a soft smile, he returns it, though his much softer and kinder in Cyrus’ eyes. “I shouldn’t have said it when you’re not ready. Just because I moved past it doesn’t mean you have.” Noticing his smile slipping he clumsily adds in, “And that’s ok! Really, it’s ok and I mean, and I love you and-uh, I get it and I mean I just say boyfriend because that’s what everyone else says, expects- wait no- I didn’t mean to phrase it like that uh-I don’t really get the need for a title for what we have anyways, like so dumb right!?”

Followed by more ridiculous rambling that has Cyrus covering his mouth trying not to giggle. It’s a nervous habit that has come to amuse the thief to no end. “And-it not like it means anything to us, its just there for other people so they know that um, we, us, you and I are an um item I guess wow that was cheesy and dumb and I am so sorry that you have to put up with me oh god I’m rambling and no, don’t look at me like that. I’m doing the thing again aren’t I-” Shaking with laughter again Cyrus has to put a hand on his shoulder to get him to shut up because he knows if he doesn’t Waker could go on well into the night and has before. It didn’t help that he could feel the tremble of the others fingers, realizing Waker was going to throw himself into an anxiety attack if he didn’t.

“Waker!” And Waker promptly closes his mouth, panic clear in his eyes that Cyrus quickly combats by brushing strands of orange out of his face and behind his ear. “Just take a deep breath.” And Waker does, following the instruction intently. “And let it out, slowly.” And Waker follows that too, looking that much calmer as Cyrus pulls him closer. “Slowly.” He rubs his thumbs over Waker’s hands. The trembling is still present, but less so. “There you go.” And doesn’t stop telling him to breath calmly until he feels Waker’s grip relax in his own.

Delicately and softly, each flyaway is combed back into place only to immediately pop out again, but Waker appreciates the sentiment anyways and Cyrus has no problem being given an excuse to keep combing through such lovely soft tufts. He loves the soft mane of fluff on his partner’s head that even since their first meeting has remained as untamed and wild as ever. -Such a shame he always ties it back when he’s on duty though- It just adds to the contrast between his actual self and hero persona, the sweet and endearing ball of anxiety vs the serious and battle ready hero of Dare city who couldn’t catch a break. And he wouldn’t be ashamed to admit to which one he preferred.

“You don’t need to tell me-er.” Waker quickly corrects, trying not to sound patronizing. “I don’t need you to explain yourself Cy. You-we don’t need to have a name if that’s what you want, that’s what I’m trying to say. Official or unofficial or whatever, I won’t treat you any different.”

“I know Waker. I…..I really want to call you that, just I-.......I just like what we have right now and-”

Waker just pecks him on the cheek quickly and pulls away to pat at a spot on the ground, looking longingly back up at him. A soundless “You don’t want to lose me.” goes unsaid as Cyrus complies, Waker taking the shorter one in his arms once more.

It wasn’t a matter of Cyrus being afraid to commit, though maybe it was, not even he was sure of what was going with himself anymore, but a fear that the wonderful friendship he’d built up with the hero would end or change or just not be the way it is now because they suddenly started calling each other boyfriends. He’s had it happen one too many times at this point, every one of his previous “boyfriends” changing everything once they started dating, acting as if kissing and romantic outings were supposed to be their only interactions from now on. They were no longer interested in the random silly things he found on the internet or just hanging out doing whatever, but were interested in using him, his body, parading him around and rubbing it in peoples faces, being denied having fun if it wasn’t their idea of “fun” and more. Cyrus' stomach curls remembering being ignored for weeks to months at a time because he wasn’t feeling up to being in bed with them or awkwardly sitting off to the side while his one boyfriend at the time showed him off to his friends and bragged. It was the same guy who he used to play videogames and eat cookies with on the weekends, talking about anything and everything…...It hurts him to realise there probably was never a friendship there to begin with. Just an elaborate ruse to get him into bed at some point.

And that was one thing Cyrus feared when they had held hands for the first time after awkwardly admitting to harboring feelings for each other after the high of a fight they were forced to join sides on. Never had the thief felt more relieved that his feelings were reciprocated, but also more scared that he had just ruined the one healthy relationship he managed to make in those many months spent together.

Cyrus removes his hat and huddles under Waker’s chin, placing his head right on his heart that gives out a steady, comforting rhythm and brightens when the taller of the two puts his head on him in return. No, Cyrus thinks, this is different.

A long silence falls between them as they cuddle in each other's arms, just watching the sun come up. Basking in each other’s presence, taking in the warmth of their bodies pressed together in this nice early morning, and relishing in the calm which was far and few in between with their double lives and they were thankful. There’s no need to exchange words now as a quiet understanding befalls them both.

It’s only after the sun seems to peak at the crest of the hillsides does Waker make himself heard again.

“Is that why you dropped me?” And Cyrus blinks for a quick second, processing the question before understanding and then playfulness cross his expression.

“No it’s because you’re a dunce.” He huffs. “And fucking heavy as hell.”

Waker chooses to ignore that last bit. “But I’m your dunce.” He boops his nose.

“Damn, straight you are.” And Cyrus retaliates with a kiss on his.

Boyfriend or just “friend who I like to kiss and hold hands with sometimes”, Waker loves him and Cyrus doesn’t doubt that for a second.

[xgoldxnhour]

“ do you even know what you do to me? ” (Sam - modern verse)

@mettleborn

They were in the middle of washing dishes, this once tedious and mundane routine slowly becoming one of her favorite pastimes together. And they’ve developed a solid system with her washing and him drying. He’s a helluva dryer.

Soft music bleeds in the background, one of the vinyls that they blindly chose during their last trip to the record store. That too has become a bit of a routine. Sunday has become their one day of the week where they’ve managed to scrounge up a day off. So, they fill the day often with day trips or local adventures that usually happens spur of the moment as they’re driving around. Movies. Bowling. Roller rink. Didn’t know that it was still open. Or sometimes they spend it at home, tucked under a billion blankets as they laze on the couch, far too distracted with each other to focus on a movie of any sort.

It’s not Sunday, but a night to celebrate no less. What exactly? They didn’t know. Someone’s birthday or anniversary or something out there. There’s a few dishes left though the chorus swirls in the background as they’ve been tossing a few swaying hips and light hums. Her head turns as he’s waiting for another dish, but instead she takes his hand and moves to the center of the kitchen. Arms wrap around his neck, pulled close as she can’t help but relish in the thought of their first dance at the Sheriff’s wedding. Oh, how quickly things changed that night. In all the best ways.

His eyes glint and the butterflies do a whole circus act in her stomach. In attempt to quiet its swirl, her nose buries into his shoulder, letting out a content breath as they continue to dance to a song they’ve never heard, but will soon become a favorite.

And when he speaks—asking her if she knows what she even does to him…she laughs. Soft and enough to compare to the brilliance of the sun. Lips settle at his shoulder before her gaze settles on him again.

“Mmm…think I might have an idea.” El gleams. “Tell me anyway?”