#the way that movie literally has at least eight different genres in it

[djokeery]

just got home from watching tasm 2 in a theater for the first time in my life and everything is hitting me in layers

[user21340]

maybe somthing where reader gets hurt and nat helps?

falling for you

(not my gif)

summary: you are a pretty injury prone person on many different occasions. you also don’t have the best relationship with the one and only natasha romanoff. what will nat do when you are tired of the team’s comments about your clumsiness and your life is in her hands?

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

genre: minor angst and fluff

warnings: self neglect, violence, cursing, alcohol consumption (let me know if i’m missing anything)

word count: 2.5k

a/n: hey! thank you all for 408 followers! sorry i haven’t been release too much content lately i really have just been super dry on ideas. teen beach movie is so cute and is literally just bi panic for me the whole time between maia mitchell and ross lynch. sorry if this fic is kinda sucky the last quarter of it was written at 7 am with no sleep prior but i hope you enjoy and have a nice rest of your day! love youuu! 💕

being the newest addition to the so-called ‘Avengers Initiative’ is the best thing that could’ve ever happened to you. with that being said, it isn’t all smooth sailing, contrary, it’s quite a bumpy road. this has nothing to do with your personality or even capabilities, but your one main character flaw, your clumsiness.

ten months ago…

you had been on the team for around two weeks now and were finally getting settled in with them. to be completely honest, you are pretty easy to coexist with. you clean up after yourself, are independent but have no issue working with others if necessary, have an overall bubbly and positive personality which makes it very difficult for any of the team members to hate you, which lets you fill the role of an avenger perfectly.

all was well until you were training pretty hard one night alone and made the mistake of not wrapping your hands before slipping on your gloves when bombarding the 120lb heavy bag with all different types of punches while controlling your breathing.

SH

SHHH

SHH

CRACK

since you lacked the wrist support of the wraps, one wrong placement of your jab caused you one broken left wrist. yes it did hurt, but you’ve also dealt with much worse. so you walk yourself down to Dr. Cho’s office to see if her or one of her assistants are in at the moment only worrying about the length of the recovery time.

lucky for you, Helen was in her office finishing some last-minute paperwork so you were able to catch her before she left.

“Excuse me, Dr. Cho? Could you take a quick look at my wrist, I’m pretty sure I broke it while training.” you say.

“Sure y/n take a seat.” she responds.

ten minutes later...

“SIX WEEKS? Is there really no way to speed up the healing process?” you groan.

“Sorry y/n/n it’s the best I can do for you. Just take it easy so six weeks is the maximum time you need to fully heal.”

“Okay, thank you anyways.” you mutter.

in the morning, almost all of the team is concerned by the state of your wrist. they were also pretty confused about how in the world you managed to break your wrist without being on a mission. fortunately, there were no major missions taking place during the six weeks you were healing.

eight months ago…

it hadn’t been long since your last accident but that didn’t stop you from injuring yourself once again. january rolled around and you were picking up some pastries and coffee for yourself and wanda at your favorite cafe in nyc. it had rain the night prior and the temperature also dropped below freezing point causing a lot of the roads and sidewalks to be iced over. as one would predict, about five minutes into your walk, you took a step and landed on the side of your foot causing you to sprain or break your ankle. you still continued your walk to the cafe because it was only another two minutes away. you limped back to the compound with all the goods. you approached your floor which you also shared with natasha and wanda.

it may also be a good time to mention that you were the least close and even had a tiny crush on natasha but neither of those factors stopped you from trying to grow your friendship and/or relationship with her. you make your way to the kitchen and both women are attempting to recreate one of their favorite european dishes which isn’t too uncommon for them as they took comfort talking about their home countries with one another.

“Hey Wands, I got more pastries than usual so just take whatever you want.” as you place the bags on the counter and hand her her coffee you notice nat giving you a side eye, probably annoyed at you for interrupting their cooking session. “Thank you y/n/n, you’re the best.” wanda says, “Oh Nat, I also got you a slice of red velvet cake because it reminded me of you.” you blush. “I don’t like red velvet.” natasha deadpans. “I-it’s okay, you don’t need to have it.” you say embarrassed as ever, looking down at your feet. you start limping over to your room. “Hey, hey, what’s up with the limp hun?” wanda asks as she runs over to you completely disregarding your uncomfortable conversation with nat you had fifteen seconds prior. “Nothing, just slipped while walking to the cafe.” “Well what are you doing walking to your room then? Come on, let's go see Cho.” you are about to protest but she just picks you up and carries you to the compound’s infirmary.

after wanda drops you off at the infirmary, Dr. Cho tells you you have to heal for eight weeks which really puts a damper on your mood.

present...

now don’t let the time skip fool you, the injuries never stopped occurring and the team's comments regarding said injuries only increased. broken nose from soccer with the team for team bonding, concussion from bumping into a shield agent, broken fingers from bar fights with creeps who try hitting on you, wanda, carol, or even nat, and many more minor and major injuries.

at the beginning when these accidents happened, whenever tony, nat, or sam would make comments such as, “Jesus, we might as well start wrapping you in bubble wrap, kid.” or “Y/n, you have got to start drinking more milk.” everyone would have a good laugh including you. however, after months of enduring the same lame jokes made over and over again ended up annoying you more than anything. when you get injured now, barely anyone checks in on you and it kinda reminds you of the boy who cried wolf in the sense that since your injuries weren’t entirely life threatening no one gives a shit or even if they are life threatening, no one believes you.

your bubbly personality is becoming more of a simmer and no one seems to notice or care. since wanda has been spending most of her time with a certain red synthezoid you are pretty lonely. you now train efficiently and hard so you have less room to make mistakes in the field and real world. by training this way, it is pretty common for you to forget to eat or even sleep.

since you aren’t feeling the best due to the lack of sleep and nutrition you start walking to the main kitchen for the team and coincidentally a majority of the team is hanging out in the living room watching some shitty soap opera. you take a step forward only to trip on an arc reactor just laying on the floor and brace yourself for impact per usual, but to your surprise it never comes. instead you feel two arms gripping your waist to keep you from hitting the cold tile floors. you turn around to see who has saved you the embarrassment of getting a minor concussion only to see nat.

you both are looking at one another with wide eyes and look at the living room full of ‘earth’s mightiest heroes’ only to see everyone staring at your and nat’s first non-forced interaction in months. you heard tony’s chuckle followed by, “Y/n, how do you manage to fuck up walking? maybe we should just start carrying you everywhere.`` everyone else starts laughing as well. you take one last glance at natasha only to see she isn’t laughing but you still decide to head back to your room before you end up punching tony in his little smug face.

as you are in your room you figure that heading to a bar and drinking your sorrows away would be better than being cooped up in your room all night. when you arrive at the bar it doesn’t take long at all for you to get wasted. however, even when you are hammered, you can still feel when you are being watched.

to your dismay, you turn around only to find a group of around 3 men not even trying to hide their predatory gazes. you quickly get the bartender's attention so you can pay because surely due to the state you are in, there is no way in hell you’ll be able to take out 3 men who are all at least two times bigger than you.

you take about nine steps out the door only to be stunned with some type of taser and dragged to the nearest ally. one of the men flip you on your back so you are able to look them in the eyes and says, “Aww, if it isn’t the precious little avenger y/n l/n. It really is too bad that by the time we are finished with you, you’ll have the title of avenger stripped from you.” just as you are about to ask them what they want from you, a strong kick to the ribs interrupts your train of thought followed by more harsh kicks to head, thighs, arms, and pretty much everywhere else imaginable. two of the men walk away and through your dazed vision you are able to make out the hydra symbol on the back of one man’s hat. the last man just towers over you, takes out a handgun and fires it at the outer side of your left shoulder. the man just chuckles before walking away from the alley knowing you’ll bleed out in no time.

you reach your shaky right hand into your pocket and take out your phone. you call wanda no answer, tony no answer, sam, cap, bruce, and bucky wouldn’t be at the compound because they had a mission tonight (which you weren’t able to wish them good luck on). it was starting to get more difficult to keep your eyes open and your breathing steady but you’d be able to make a call to one last person before you blacked out for good. you clicked natasha’s contact and you were baffled to see she actually picked up. “What do you want?” she asks clearly, a bit annoyed, “N-nat I need help. I don’t have much time. Please don’t let me die.” you plead. “Woah woah, what are you talking about? I swear to god y/n, if this is another dislocated shoulder-” she rambles, “NAT, PLEASE!” you cry. nat quickly traces your phone’s location and sprints to her car. “Alright, y/n/n I’m on my way, please just keep your eyes open for me, okay?” “You always had the prettiest eyes nat. I’m sorry I was more of a burden to you and the team than anything else. I hope you can forgive me someday.” you mumble. “No, no, no I’m almost there, hang on.” and with that the line goes silent.

about thirty seconds later nat pulls up to the alley where she sees your disheveled figure lying in a pool of blood. she gasps but rushes over to check your pulse and lift you into the passenger side of her car. nat wasn’t sure of the last time she was this worried about someone. as she handed you over to Dr. Cho, she felt all of the guilt of her past interactions with you flood her mind.

*flashback*

y/n became pretty familiar with each avenger’s way of destressing after a tough mission she also paid a lot of attention to natasha’s routine in particular. nat’s routine consisted of a long warm bath with amazing smelling soaps, binging of cheesy reality tv shows, and the consumption of her favorite russian comfort foods which were hard to get a hold of during the early morning hours when she’d usually return to the compound. with all of this being said, y/n had taken the time to gather and put all of these comfort tools together and set up natasha’s room so she didn’t have to worry about anything upon her arrival and could just relax for once. she had also written a note and placed a bright sticky note on nat’s door that read:

i hope you enjoy your night.

remember, if you need anything

or anyone to talk to, my door

is always open for you :)

love, y/n

a couple hours after nat’s arrival y/n receives a text from her that reads, “Stay out of my room.” this hurt. something y/n wasn’t aware of was the tears in nat’s eyes when she took notice of all the little details you managed to perfect to a t with her routine.

*end of flashback*

nat needed you to be okay even though she’d never admit it until that day. something about seeing you look so small, vulnerable, beaten, and battered broke natasha’s cold heart. nat stays in the infirmary room with you for a couple hours after she’s notified the team about your condition and she began to grow drowsy and with that she falls into a light sleep.

she is awoken in what feels like a blink of an eye only to see you slowly rustling around under the covers above you. she lunges to the side of the bed as you slowly open your eyes.

“Hi.” you rasp.

“Hey.” she responds while surveying your figure.

“Jeez, you step on one little pebble and this happens to you.” you send a small smirk her way as you carefully lift your hands up to wave them over your upper body.

“Not funny.” she says.

“Come on Nat, don’t act like you care.” you chuckle but her brow furrows.

“I do. As you may know I’m just not the best at showing it.”

“Oh reallyyy? You wouldn’t mind showing me how much you care then would you- Wait. What is that on your cheek?” she quickly brushes her slender fingers over her cheek and you think you also see a light warmth growing on the skin she just brushed over. possibly from the embarrassment of something so miniscule disrupting her appearance even though yours is clearly in much worse shape.

“Nope. Missed it. Here, let me get it for you.” you lean into her as she is visibly confused and place a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Got it.” you laugh and you can see a wide smile grow on the redhead's face. “No you didn’t.” now it was your turn to be confused before a pair of the softest lips you’d ever felt collide with yours. you got into the rhythm of each other's lips and it felt like you’d both done this thousands of times before with one another. the kiss is broken when nat pulls away for air and you let out a little whine. “Now you did.” she giggles, “We’ve got to do that again.” you say still stunned from the kiss. “Well, I plan on it, detka.” she presses a quick peck on your forehead and skips out of your room. this was when you realised, you’d fall for her anyday, anytime, anywhere.

[seostudios]

mark’s dad.

pairing: johnny x fem!readr

genre: fluff + smut (like little angst) info: dilf!johnny, son!mark, best-friend!mark, aged-up!johnny warnings: age gap, unprotected sex, masturbation (fem) wc: 2.1k

note: hi i wrote this on my phone at like 1-3 in the morning... sorry if it’s bad but i wanted to put out something! i hope you guys enjoy it though cause dilf!johnny is so sexy

i think my son ditched you for haechan today, dear.” mr.suh informed you as you stood respectively in front of him, wearing an oversized sweater and basketball shorts. “aw man, i drove all this way for a movie with mark, and he ditched me for his other best friend...” you quietly sneer, the obvious jealously making an appearance. johnny chuckled, hands resting on his hips. he felt bad you came all this way for a simple movie night. “how about this?” your eyes look up, to the terrifyingly good looking man. “i will treat you to a movie and popcorn!” he suggested, knowing very damn well he’s going out of his way to possibly spend time with his son’s best friend, who he has known since they were sewed to the hip in sophomore year, now in university. “i-i don’t think that’s be appropriate,” “why? because i’d like to spend time and get to know the friend and possible love interest of my son? i don’t see any harm in that. i’ll get my coat.” he quickly responded, saving himself.

you knew he said you’d watch a movie together but you didn’t expect to get yourself two tickets to go watch a movie at an actual theatre. “that was amazing mr.suh-“ johnny looks down at your tiny figure holding the popcorn, “-i mean johnny!” if you’re being honest now, it was really nice getting to know johnny, besides the age difference and the possible complications with your amazing friendship with his son, you liked him. making your way over to his car, you listen on as he rambles about how he hasn’t this much of an outing since mark was in high school. “now he’s clinging onto me like we’re dudes, like i’m his dad not his bro.” he laughed, starting the car. “that’s so sweet though!! my mom never gave an effort to trying to be my friend even when i tried,” although you kind of party pooped the mood, you can literally reverse uno it right there. “but whatever!! she still brings me shopping which is good enough,”

nearing midnight and you know god damn well your mom would’ve killed you if she knew you took a taxi home alone in the middle of the night. johnny picked up on this, and even if he saw you in a new light today, a light which could possibly ruin his relationship with his son and a possible one with you, he couldn’t have let you home alone. “you know what? marks sleeping over at haechan’s anyway. i’ll call your mom and tell her you should stay over.” nodding, you let yourself in and up into his (messy) bedroom.

“hope you enjoy peanut butter and jelly for dinner, i kind of forgot to buy groceries...” johnny said handing you a plate of mini sandwiches. you mutter a quick thanks before digging in. tonight you saw johnny not as mr.suh but as johnny, the hot ass mother fucking dilf of the neighbourhood. you thought you were just a regular teenager to him, but you thought wrong. feeling his gaze on your exposed neck, lips. how his breathing would quicken whenever you leaned in to grab another sandwich. “wanna watch america’s got talent?” you asked pointing towards the couch. he shrugs agreeing, “why not?”

you had insisted on cleaning the dishes, i mean it was the least you could do. “so what’s the point of this whole show? to humiliate people or actually scout out people?!” johnny questioned staring at the screen, not noticing how you went from being on opposite ends of the couch to being almost inches away. should you initiate something? no, that would be overstepping into something erasable.

“this is so wrong,” you tell yourself before abruptly standing up. johnny turns his attention to you, trying to foreshadow your next moves. however, he didn’t expect for you to turn back around and straddle on his lap, “whoa..” he said, gripping onto your hips. “i want you.” his mind goes blur momentarily, “i-i cant, your my son’s best friend...” god, you looked so hot with your shorts bunched up as far as they could as you slowly grinder down onto his (huge) clothed cock. “fu..fuck,” he moans aloud, pushing all thoughts aside except for the one that kept telling him to ruin you tonight. the night was going better than planned, since you were in straddled on a topless johnny with only your bra and shorts on... probably a good twenty five minutes into kiss play, but mark chose the best time to unintentionally cockblock you and his dad. “y/n!!”mark shouted through the phone loud enough for johnny to hear (and the speaker wasn’t even on!) “yes markie?” you cooed, using one hand to speak on the phone and the other to signal johnny to keep it quiet. your hands trailed overtop your breasts, cupping them through your bra and pinching your hardened nipples, soon bringing your cold fingers down to the waistband of your shorts. “it’s fine. we can always watch a movie next weekend, i literally see you everyday! go hang out with hyuck,” you encouraged. past the waistband and under the hello kitty panties your hand comes in contact with your sensitive (dripping) folds. “a-ah, m..mark i gotta go...” “are you getting laid or something? i’m out.” he quickly ends the phone and you made sure to turn on ‘do not disturb’ incase he calls again.

“go on, i’ll watch.” johnny said seductively observing you as you toyed with your sensitive clot. “i’m close johnny!” you quietly moan into his ear, rubbing faster. “cum on your fingers, now.” he ordered, feeling you twitch underneath him, grinding as you had an orgasm. “dirty girl...” he groans watching you pull your fingers up to suck dry. now, you were a filthy girl, tasting yourself without being told to, cumming in your panties which you knew damn might have to force you to go commando tonight in marks bed. it was like a slap in the face when johnny lifted you up to stand, “it’s late. i- we should head to bed... i can give you some new shorts... since you know,” he quickly stammered before swiping his shirt off the floor, heading upstairs.

it was almost nine in the morning when you woke up, you knew johnny woke up around seven to eight so the sizzling smell of bacon wasn’t just some evil mind games. after last night, you felt, intense shame and guilt. did you seriously just betray your best friend for a lousy orgasm you could’ve done alone in the bathroom. “your up! i made breakfast, go ahead and dig in, i’m just gonna be cleaning up my bedroom.” he sounded as if you didn’t cum all over his lap not even 12 hours ago, but i guess he shouldn’t dwell in the past especially this time.

“mr.suh! my mom’s here! thank you... goodbye!” you shout from the front door. “anytime! bye!” he replies before you jolt out the door.

it’s been a couple days and johnny hasn’t left your mind. you always think about what stopped him, was it the age? your friendship with mark? that fucking phone call? johnny and you that night was like no other, you saw him for johnny, not mr.suh and it made your panties soak at every thought. how his ink black hair is always combed and in the most attractive middle part, how his broad should could feel when you hold yourself while being railed by his enormous cock. it was big, would it even fit? you’ve been with men before but the bulge you felt poking you in then thigh was something else compared to the other men.

you roamed his mind freely too. spending his day drinking hours, pondering over you, will you just slap him in the face and let him know you want him and you don’t care? he hopes. but it’s wrong. “dad! y/n’s coming over to study today,” mark shouted running down the stairs to his father. “so don’t snatch her up and take her away for a movie date, we got an exam this monday.” he said nonchalantly, the mention of their little outing slipping oh too casually. “w-what?” he asked surprised. “yeah yeah, i know about your little date and hook up” “- we didn’t hook up.” johnny interrupted, “well whatever you were doing for her to end my phone call like that,” he goes to the fridge to grab some milk, “so...” johnny said, eager on his son’s say on this. “so..? do you want me to be mad, dad?” i was lying if i said johnny was chill now... “no!!!!” he shouted, which earns a couple laughs from mark. “hey, dad,” mark sits down infront of his father. “it’s okay, y/n probably likes you back so you can do whatever you want with her, except hurt her cause i’ll kill you.” he deadpans before letting him off with a laugh. “so she can be your new mom for all you care?” he asked, playfully of course, waiting for the “hell no” and “what the fuck dad?!” to come but... “i mean she bags and tells me what to do, she helps me with school, laundry and chicks so... i don’t see why not,”

ding ding ding ding ding ding now what? hopping off the bean bag you were binge watching the office on, you head over to the door, not caring what you look like, just shut up to whoever had the audacity to spam a doorbell. “hello?!” you look up, “hey y/n,” johnny said with a small daisy in his hand.

“let me be your boyfriend,”

“what about mark?” you asked, staring at your feet wiggle in anticipation. hoping he’d tell you he doesn’t care and we could do whatever we wanted to. “funny you asked, he said for all he cares you could be his step mom.” you threw your head back laughing “he what?! no he didn’t....” the laughter dies down soon enough to get back to seriously listening in on what he has to say but did mark really not care? “your girlfriend huh?” you asked, raising a brow. he nodded. johnny proceeds to take the daisy and place it behind your ear, “you look like shit, but that is sexy as fuck.” he said, caressing your cheek before leaning in to place a peck on your lips.

“i don’t get why you drove half an hour here to say that, when i was already coming over to study.” you tell your boyfriend, johnny, as your backs his mattress. it was seriously an eventful day, wasn’t it? “i thought i should be romantic,” he shrugged turning to his side to wrap his large arms around your waist pulling you in closer. “i like this...” he mumbled into your hair, slowly drifting off to sleep.

“are you falling asleep?! we need to leave in ten minutes!!” you shouted, attempting to free yourself from his hold but he was knocked out and not letting go any time soon. “i hate you.” “i think it’s the quiet opposite y/n dear,” he replied, burying himself in the blanket, bringing you with him. “now let’s take a quick nap, mark can wait,” you sigh in defeat, “okay fine... twenty minutes!”

five months later, and you couldn’t believe having a relationship with your best friends dad was oddly working out perfectly. “johnny! fuck! baby your so good!” you whine as he penetrates into you against the wall. your legs wrapped around his waist as his cock rubs around your g-spot stimulating you into your third orgasm of that night. mark had recently gone travelling with jeno for fun so that meant you and johnny could’ve have your own fun in the empty house. “you can cum for me one more time can’t you?” he begged, placing you on the kitchen counter, kissing down your stomach. “answer me...” he sucks harhly on your clit. “yes! i can!!” you whined, squirming feeling johnny licking up your juicie; which sure as hell was mixed with his own cum, lapping his tongue around until you were shaking under his mouth and curling your toes to his mouth’s magic. “i’m- i’m cumming!!” you scream, releasing your juices onto the man’s face. “my favourite meal of the day.” he playfully joked before pinching your nipple. “tired?” he asked, as if he hadn’t been using you as a cum dump for hours. “mhm,” you reply opening your arms for him to carry you up, because “no way in hell am i walking up the stairs today after being railed by a monster cock.” you said snorting with a laugh. nonetheless, johnny swoops you up and gracefully carried you up and into his bed, “we can clean up tomorrow, let’s sleep now.” he said, feeling you wrap around him like a koala. “mmm goodnight... i love you,” you said in the crock of his neck, right below his ear before drifting off, “love you too,”

[woozisnoots]

modest jeon wonwoo

° pairing: wonwoo x reader ° genre: university!au, host club!au, fluff ° word count: ~1.7k ° warnings: none! ° a/n: this had no business being this long and idek if i like it lol but I want to specifically dedicate this piece to @wonwoosimp​​ bc she’s literally the sweetest, best bean in the world [insert uwu meme here] thank you for gifting me my very first photocard, I literally cried opening it! I love you so much, I hope you enjoy!

welcome to the svt host club!

masterlist!

you entered university with a certain goal, a purpose. eventually, you were going to be the pediatric surgeon that the 13 year old you ushered you to be.

…let's just hope the knowledge of your brain was enough to get you through the first four years of pre-med. with your 3.7 high school GPA, you were lucky to get into your first choice college, let alone your current major

from the start of the semester, you dedicated yourself to studying the anatomy and physiology of the body until you knew every nook and cranny there was to know. and the library was the perfect sanctuary to get your shit together

as much as you loved your roommates, their constant fights over closet space and boy toys gave you no peace of mind what-so-ever

bless the library for being opened 24/7. If your roommates found you sleeping on their only working desk, you would find yourself waking up to the sound of tripping freshmen trying to get to their first 8am class right in the middle of the hallway

but the lone table in the corner of the library just on the third floor did you good at staying focused. even provided some good naps in between every now and then

the day before your first anatomy test, you LOCKED yourself in the library. no one was going in OR OUT of the premise just to sit across from you on YOUR table until you fully memorized the different layers of epithelial tissue >:(

gosh, you even scattered all your notes across the table just so people got the memo that this seat was: [OFF LIMITS]

yes, off limits to everyone except a certain jeon wonwoo.

the way you met was abrupt to say the least

besides your table, you had a pretty good view of the entire campus — from the main health science building all the way to the student parking lot

and just below you, an astonishing sight of a mob of screaming girls chasing after a mouse guy in glasses. not to be inconsiderate and heartless, but unless you heard someone scream bloody murder, diving back into your flashcard you go

tissue after tissue, you start to get delusional because at this point, everything is starting to look the same

slumping down into your chair, you take a second to mentally recharge, drinking the water you’ve neglected for the past three hours

you time yourself for a five minute break, going through the notifications on your phone

before you could read your roommate’s ongoing ramble on the latest update of the “crazy good looking, god-like, elite host club that the university has to offer”

a ‘club’ that you didn’t even know anything about nor cared for

you hear a loud ‘thud’ coming from the bookcase in front of you

from the side the tall, lean guy with glasses that you saw earlier emerged with his hands gripping his tricep

you try not to draw too much attention to him. half the reason being you didn’t want to embarrass him by laughing at the fact he ran into a 10 feet tall bookcase

and you did not need this man distracting you. it’s your eight week streak being this productive, a new record for anything you’ve done in your entire life and your pride wouldn’t let you have it if you lost it just because you saw an attractive man on sight

you scribble down a decent guess to the tissue identification question that you’ve been stuck on for the past few minutes, not bothering to look up

“that’s actually dense connective tissue, not smooth”

jolting up from your seat, you look up realizing the guy 5 feet away is now right in front of your face looking down at all your papers

“you can tell because they’re striated”

you stare at him in disbelief wondering how he could have gotten so fast with just looking at it for a few seconds. eyeing him up and down, he definitely looked around the same age as you but he wasn’t someone you’ve seen around the science buildings. and you would know since you took the liberty of familiarizing almost everyone within the department

“do you mind if i sit here?” his hands already on the edge of the chair ready to pull it out from underneath him

“...yeah sure”

“oh i’m wonwoo by the way,” he says as you both exchange awkward stares and knowledgeable nods

okay well since he’s proven that he might be of help to you, you might as let him stay. from what you’ve gathered, he didn’t have any stuff on him aside from his phone that you watch him get out of his front pocket, getting ready to play pacman

forget how attractive he is, this guy has some brains.

for the rest of the day, as you guys sat across from each other, wonwoo would occasionally bounce back and forth between giving you study tips and playing whatever game he decides to play at that moment in time

he was surprisingly really good at this? he knew more things about the subject than your professors did, and that’s saying a lot. like you’ve been looking at cells for WEEKS and you were lucky to get at least half of them. which begs the question:

“how do you magically know all this?”

the blank expression on his face tells you he wasn’t expecting that question but he quickly shrugs it off. “i just know a few things from my parents that’s all”

you would have questioned him further but the time on your phone read “22:57” and you already broke your number rule about sleeping early before a big test

as you pack up all your stuff, wonwoo pushes his chair in, bidding you farewell

“good luck on your test tomorrow!”

you appreciate the gesture, mentally thanking him for his help and proceed to go back to your dorms, preparing yourself to tell your roommate all about the exciting? day you had

“YOU MORON. JEON WONWOO?”

laying flat on your back on your bed, you cover the bottom half of your face, quivering under your sheets as you stare at your roommate’s outrageous outburst

you explain what happened and who you met today at the library. when your roommate asked to describe him in more detail, all you said was that he was pretty smart for someone who wasn’t particularly in your major

your roommate lets out a loud scream into their pillow, gripping the bed sheets before giving you the earful of the century

“he’s just being modest. he’s a korean lit major but he’s one of the uni’s top students since both his parents are the head of the science department.

…AND he’s one of the most requested host club members. so you caught yourself one big fish today bud.”

top student? science department? HOST CLUB? none of that was processing in your brain. the one club that you wanted nothing to do with and you just happened to meet their top money maker

grand.

the thought didn’t keep you up at night only because you thought that today’s encounter was just coincidence and you probably would never have to see him again.

(sad though, your roommate was right. he is rather good looking.)

the time that it took for you to take your test the next day flew by so fast that you questioned if it even happened. the first step you took out the classroom, you start to second guess all your answers, regretting that you didn’t check a third or even fourth time before submitting

your train of thought halts when you see jeon wonwoo standing in the empty hallway

“i’m sure you aced it”

and just like in a netflix original romance movie, he reveals a bouquet of pink begonias from behind his back while shyly adjusting his glasses

“these are for you. to congratulate you”

weird way to phrase it but you were still gonna take the flowers. “host club tendencies?”

“so you found out?”

from a distance, you can hear the rushing footsteps from downstairs followed by a sense of purpose. “i think i was bound to” :/

you didn’t know how you felt about the current situation. you had no idea what host club was until you got here and you still don’t know what they even do. for all you knew, this could just be a gesture to get them more clients

but if his actions were genuine… you wouldn’t mind seeing him again

“i have to start learning muscles for our next exam. heard it was one of the hardest ones. i’m not sure if you have more studying tricks up your sleeve?”

“i might.” a cocking little grin now appearing on his face

“good. same place at the library tomorrow then. and this time? try not to bring your dedicated fans wherever you go”

so these study sessions continued. you guys occasionally had to change spots - from cafe to an empty bio lab - if the mob ever saw a single hair follicle that might be his

but each time, wonwoo brought something more just himself. one day it would be coffee, others days it would be food. things to keep you motivated.

for a korean lit major, he was taking a lot of time out of his day to help you, being attentive to all the strategies that help you study and such

possibly making your assumption from months back, true.

by the time finals rolled around, aside from the spursts of review here and there, study sessions became more casual. you didn’t feel the need to overwork our brain since you already knew all the information (something you actually learned from wonwoo himself)

possibly the last meeting you’d have with him was similar to your first: just you two together but him playing on his phone. and yet before the night ended

“i have a proposal.”

“i’m not giving you money for your dumb club.” bold of him to assume you would-

“no but i really appreciate the thought :)

why don’t we turn these study sessions into… study dates instead?”

:0

your assumption after 6 months later: finally confirmed

“but that’s only IF you ace your finals.”

well let’s just say at the very end, you had a successful first semester and are now one step closer towards being the surgeon of your dreams.

plus, you even landed yourself a pretty cool boyfriend in the process

let’s hope his parents put in a good word for you when you apply to med school!

[jalapeno-princess]

Coffee For Your Head

(He’s so pretty)

Mark Tuan X Reader

Genre: Angst with some fluff and a happy ending 

Word Count: 7.1K

Summary: After an exhausting and frustrating day at work, all you want to do is go home and fall apart in your boyfriend’s arms. However, a comment that is meant to be a joke turns in to a full blown argument between you and Mark; causing you to storm out of your shared apartment. 

A/N: Hey guys, so this week has been pretty shitty. I had to pay $700 to get my car fixed only to have someone steal my muffler (Hawaii is not the paradise everyone paints it out to be) but I’m not letting it get in the way of my life. Anyways, this imagine was inspired by that deathbed coffee for your head song but literally just the first verse (the song is actually so sad). I also have a couple of surprises for you all! The last and final chapter of crazy little thing called love is in the works, and I’ve decided to make a part 2 to “nobody compares to you” by popular request, so stay tuned. I’m also a few followers away from 700 that’s crazy!! Anyways, happy reading!

Never in the four years of your relationship has Mark ever felt like he didn’t want to look at you. Hell, there was never a time he wasn’t looking at you. From the moment Mark first laid his eyes on you, he was captivated by your beauty in ways he has never experienced before. 

Some days, he had to force himself to stop admiring your breathtaking looks so that you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. After what took weeks of building up the courage to ask you out on a date, it didn’t take him long to realize that you were just as beautiful on the inside as you were on the outside. He honestly felt as if he was the luckiest man on earth to be the one who was extremely blessed to love you. 

Unfortunately, the two of you had your first actual fight just a few hours prior and he honestly wishes he could go back in time and keep his mouth shut so that the two of you wouldn’t have been in this disheartening situation. Although there were a few times the two of you would disagree and have a couple quarrels here and there, this was the first time you actually stormed out of your shared apartment out of anger and frustration. 

He was well aware that he went too far tonight; Mark knew you like the back of his hand. Just by your posture and the way you slammed your bag down on the counter, he had a feeling something bad must have happened at work. You were a registered nurse at your local hospital and as much as you wish you could say being a nurse was everything you could ever hope and pray it would be; it was quite the opposite. 

Sure, you had the honor of witnessing many miracles such as pregnancies, watching patients win their battles against cancer—just being able to help anyone in need were a few perks that came with being a nurse. However, being a nurse also came with great responsibility. There were lives on the line and just the simplest mistake; giving a patient the wrong medication, scheduling the wrong surgery or assigning the wrong diet could really affect the lives of those you were in charge of. 

Being a nurse was very exhausting; you were constantly on your feet for eight to ten hours a day and there were many people, either the patients or family members of the patients who always felt the need to take out their stress and worry on you. Tonight had been one of the most tiring and stressful days at work and there was nothing more you wanted to do than to change in to your pajamas and fall asleep in your boyfriend’s warm embrace. It was obvious Mark had other plans. 

Normally, whenever you came home so distraught and obviously shaken up, Mark would do whatever he could to comfort you and make you feel better. He didn’t understand what got over him tonight though—what started as a joke about you leaving the dirty dishes from earlier that morning in the sink as his way to cheer you up turned in to hours of yelling at each other and getting at each other’s throats. 

You told him he was a selfish, egotistical asshole who didn’t care about anyone but himself and he called you an aggressive bitch who takes things too seriously. As soon as he saw tears falling from your cheeks while you yanked at your purse and your keys that were still on the kitchen counter before storming outside, Mark was well aware that he fucked up. You weren’t a sensitive person; you did cry occasionally when work could be too much for you to handle, when you felt home sick being 3,000 miles away from your family or if there was a sad scene in a movie the two of you watched together then yeah—you would shed some tears, but it was only natural. 

When you guys did argue—if ever—you did tear up out of irritation; but you never allowed Mark to see how much your little disputes would hurt you because you didn’t want to feel vulnerable. He may have been your boyfriend, but you didn’t want him—or anyone for that matter, taking advantage of how timorous and fragile you were as a person. It took him a while to process that you actually left. He was too focused on the fight; there were so many things he believed he wanted to say to you in the heat of the moment, but he knew it was best that he didn’t. 

Now that he was all alone in the apartment, he felt like complete and utter shit. He knew the entire fight could have been prevented if he had just kept his mouth shut. What came over him that he felt the need to make such a stupid comment? You weren’t all that familiar when it came to California seeing as how you would only go out for work, with friends or with Mark. 

California was different at night; it’s was more dangerous and scarier, even for your boyfriend who has been living there his entire life. Seeing as how your family lived in New York and you hardly made any friends in the couple years of living in the relatively sunny state other than a couple coworkers, he had no idea where you could have run off to. For all he knew, you were at a bar getting drunk off of your ass and someone could have been taking advantage of you—or worse, you could have been driving and got in to a car accident because of how frustrated you were. 

From what he experienced with being in the passenger seat while you drove, he had to admit you weren’t exactly the best driver. You had two of the worst qualities a driver could have—impatience and anger. Normally, you were calm and collective. Even if life as a nurse could get very hectic and frantic at times, not once in your three years of working at the hospital did you show that you were on the verge of a mental breakdown. 

Mark never understood how you did it—but you were very good at managing your time and completing your tasks while under pressure. Your driving however was a completely different story. As much as he could only hope and pray you were somewhere safe, it wasn’t enough to stop the many negative thoughts and scenarios that his conscience came up with. Out of force of habit, he turned on the news to make sure nothing bad happened to you—God, why didn’t he just keep his mouth shut? If he just gave up his pride and took in to consideration the stress you were under, you’d be cuddling in his arms right now while the two of you watch reruns of Cake Boss—but instead, you were out driving in the freezing cold, alone and angry. He had no idea what he should do; even if he were to give in and admit his faults first, what good would it do? You were just as stubborn as he was. 

Knowing your headstrong tendencies, there was a big chance you would leave his messages unread and let his calls go to voicemail. He couldn’t blame you though, if it were the other way around and you were the one trying to get in touch with him, Mark would’ve ignored your attempts entirely. His guilty conscience got the best of him only after ten minutes; he knew there was no way he’d be able to go to sleep without finding out your whereabouts.

Mark: Hey. 11:56 p.m.

Mark: I’m sure you’re still mad at me and my apologies probably mean jack shit to you right now but just know that I am really fucking sorry. 11:56 p.m.

Mark: You don’t have to return my calls, but do you think you could at least let me know that you’re safe? 11:58 p.m.

Mark: I didn’t mean anything I said—you know me better than I know myself baby. I would never do or say anything to purposely hurt you. Fuck, the last thing I ever want to do is upset you y/n. I’m sorry I’ve made you so sad. 12:03 p.m.

Mark: I love you so much y/n. Please come home soon. 12:03 p.m.

He tossed his phone somewhere on the floor before releasing a frustrating groan—where could you have gone? A lot of places were closed at this time of hour and he decided that since you were driving, there was no way you could be drinking. Any club or bar was immediately crossed off of his list. There was also no way you’d go back to the hospital; it was painfully obvious that something occurred during your shift that made your mood sour—so you probably didn’t want to get near the establishment until you had to return back to work in the morning. 

Shit, that’s right. 

You had another shift in less than eight hours, God, Mark really felt like the biggest asshole on the planet. Knowing that there was a huge chance he wouldn’t be hearing from you any time soon, he decided to set up camp in the living room just in case you came back home and wanted to go straight to bed. He was also secretly hoping that you read his messages and forgave him; or at least felt a little less infuriated with him. 

No matter how much he tried to take his mind off of you, there was nothing that could distract him. None of the many video games he owned nor the new unsolved mysteries series Netflix had to offer could ease his unsettling nerves. Something inside of Mark was telling him to go out and look for you, but he knew that wasn’t a good idea. Honestly, he wouldn’t even know where to start. California was huge—he’d probably drive in circles for hours. 

The idea of getting in contact with his friends also popped in to his mind; you’ve grown close to his group of friends over the course of your relationship to the point where you could consider them all family. However, you were the kind of person who hated being a burden to others. You also didn’t want to involve anyone in your personal business unless you really had to. 

All he could do was lie on the couch and stare at the ceiling; growing more and more irritated with himself as the minutes went by. Your disheartened facial expression was imprinted in the back of his mind—this was the first time you looked at him in a way other than lovingly and with so much adoration in your eyes. He hated it; hated himself even more. 

He just really wanted you home safe. 

Your boyfriend had no idea how long he was waiting for you; minutes felt like hours as he continued to lie on the couch, doing nothing. As soon as he heard the click of the door sound off, he abruptly sat up; not caring if he seemed too eager. He sincerely meant everything he said over text message—your health and your safety meant more to him than his stupid ego. 

His heart began to race watching you walk in; there was nothing more he wanted to do than to run over to you and pull you in to his embrace while he repeatedly apologized for everything that he said and all the hurt he made you suffer through. For his inconsiderate actions, for not running after you, for allowing his pride and wanting to be the winner of the argument get in the way. But you looked so exhausted—so tired. Your body language spoke for you; it was evident that you were probably still hurt from his words and from what he learned with past experiences, you probably just wanted to go to sleep. He was curious if you got around to reading his messages or if you listened to his many voicemails.

His heart was begging him to get up and make his way over to you, but his mind didn’t want to make matters worse. Although he wanted to fix things immediately, he was going to wait for you to take control of the situation. You slowly took off your sandals and made your way in to the kitchen. The battle going on between his mind and his heart was currently consuming his thoughts; as much as he knew it would’ve been better to continue giving you his space, his heart had other plans. 

You looked as though you saw a ghost when you heard him make his presence known and only then did Mark realize it was 2:15 in the morning. His chest hurt when he saw you tense up; he began regretting his decision. You obviously weren’t ready for reconciliation. 

“What are you still doing up?” 

You still had your back faced toward him, but he was going to take whatever he could get. Instead of continuing to ignore him, which is honestly what he felt he deserved, you actually responded to him. It had to be a good thing—right? 

“I know you’re well aware that there was no way I’d be able to go to sleep knowing you were out all by yourself this late in a city you’re not all that familiar with. Especially because I was the reason. I—I was so worried.” 

The tension in the room was thick; he was practically walking on eggshells while thinking about what to say next. You were the definition of a sensitive person and it was a trait of yours that Mark was still getting used to. It was the truth though—Mark cared about you more than he did anyone else on this hell forsaken earth. If something were to happen to you, he didn’t know what he would do with himself. You were his person. That man would die for you if he had to. He found himself reaching out to you as a force of habit, but he retracted his hand as soon as he realized what he was doing. 

“Can we—can we talk?” 

You took in a deep breath and finally allowed yourself to turn around and face him. There was no way around this—you knew as you drove around that he would want to talk sooner or later. When you saw that he was still awake, you weren’t surprised. Being with him for all these years, you’ve grown to learn that Mark never allowed you to go to bed angry. He was the type to want to solve your problems before you were to fall asleep. 

The idea of you crying yourself to sleep because of something he said made his heart hurt. Only once in your entire relationship did you go to bed without listening to Mark’s apologies and it was because you didn’t want to deal with the drama any longer. He felt extremely bad that entire day though and when you arrived home that night, there was a bouquet of sunflowers, your favorite cake from your favorite bakery and a stuffed animal all sitting on the counter. 

Mark was going to make sure you knew just how sorry he was, even if it meant having to sleep on the couch tonight. You were much more calm than you were when you first stormed out. Right after the fight, you went straight to your car and sat in it for a while; allowing yourself to breathe and come to your sense before driving away. Then, you decided to go drive around the city until you pulled up to a 24-hour coffee shop. 

The exhaustion from your extremely stressful day was finally taking over you; and since you planned to stay out for at least another hour or two, you were going to need something that would keep you from falling asleep—and what better than a caramel macchiato with three shots of espresso? To your delight, you were the only customer there; you didn’t want anyone witnessing your breakdown as you cried quietly to yourself while remembering Mark’s harsh words that he directed towards you. 

Mark was the only good thing going for you in your life at the moment; all you wanted to do was collapse in his arms and have him comfort you—you wanted him to run his fingers through your hair while you were perched up on his lap, hiding your face in the juncture of his neck. Every single time you had a rough day, whether it was because of work, or something else going on in your life; but your boyfriend was really good at taking your mind off of any problems, worries or negative thoughts that you had. 

Coming home, only to hear him complain about how you didn’t wash your cereal bowl made your blood boil. You were scolded by your manager for almost giving a patient the wrong medication and it was the mistake of your colleague in training—yet you didn’t have the heart to confess that it wasn’t your fault. You understood how intimidating it was for first and second year residents; you’ve been there before, so you were fine taking the blame for something that you didn’t do. However, hearing your manager insult you and claim that you were inadequate and had no idea what you were doing made you feel as if it were true. 

The last thing anyone in the medical field wanted to hear was that they weren’t good at their job. You didn’t go through so many years of crying over how hard clinicals were on top of pulling all-nighters every single week there was a test or exam just for someone to make you feel like you had no clue on how to complete the tasks given to you. This was the first time you were scolded for something that you didn’t think was all that bad; the medication the patient was meant to take helped with soothing a sore throat. The one that the medical resident gave them had to do with decreasing heartburn—it wasn’t like it was a life or death situation. 

Mark never did anything to upset you purposely; sure, he had a tendency to leave the toilet seat up every now and then and sometimes he would get crumbs all over the couch, but that was as bad as it would get. When he called you a bitch, it genuinely felt like a slap to the face. It physically hurt and you couldn’t stop thinking about the way his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched in anger as he continued to say such hurtful things to you. At one point while you were drinking your coffee, it became bitter—which was odd considering how sweet it actually was and you found yourself no longer wanting to finish it. 

Your argument with Mark was just taking up the entirety of your thought process that you were growing agitated with anything and everything. After reading his text messages and listening to a few of his voicemails, you didn’t know how to react. Mark Tuan was never the type to admit to his wrongdoings; he had so much pride and such a big ego—but not once did he ever use it towards you. You’ve watched the way he became ruthless while playing video games and said some things to his friends that you considered to be a joke; something he said to throw them off while being focused on winning. 

Even at work, if he did something wrong, he’d never admit to his faults. That’s just who he was; so for him to say that he was wrong—that he didn’t mean a thing that he said and he shouldn’t have upset you at all gently pulled on your heartstrings and you found yourself throwing away the remainder of your beverage and making your way back to the apartment. 

You weren’t sure what was going to happen once you were to walk in the door; he might have apologized, but that didn’t necessarily mean that he was going to talk to you or apologize again in person. Your mind would not let you get any rest; it was currently in a battle with your heart—your stupid, stupid heart that belonged to the man that made you feel like you were wrong for having a bad day. 

That—you had no right to lash out on him. You wished he would have heard you out first before attacking you for something so small and unnecessary; he could’ve washed the damn dishes himself if he was so bothered. But your heart wouldn’t stop telling you to forgive him. His job could get extremely frustrating sometimes. It might not have been as time consuming or energy draining as yours, but there were times where he would need you to hold him every now and then because his executives expected so much out of him. 

He probably had just as much of a hard day as you did—maybe he came home pissed off from something that happened at work and noticing that there was dishes in the sink that he knew were there from this morning got on his nerves. You felt like he could have handled it better though and you couldn’t help but think like he was growing tired of having to be your backbone; having to comfort you almost every single day on top of his own problems. Your mind wouldn’t stop coming up with all these thoughts and lies you knew weren’t true and you were well aware that it was best to start heading back to your place knowing that you had to be up again in less than five hours. 

Seeing him practically leap at the sight of you walking through the door sent so many emotions to your chest. You hated any time spent away from him—there were occasions where your schedules would collide and the only time you would see him was right before bed or if you were coming home from a graveyard shift while he was getting ready to leave for his job. 

The dried tears on his cheek confused you; he was the one who caused all of the drama and he had no problem making you feel like you were overreacting and being too sensitive. You were upset with yourself for wanting to walk over towards him and wrap your arms around him—but it was only natural for you to want to do so. 

For the entire duration of your shift, he was all you could think about; the thought of Mark was what kept you sane throughout the entire day. No matter how upset he made you, he was still the love of your life—your best friend, your favorite person, your soulmate. One fight wasn’t going to tarnish or falter your feelings for him in any way. 

Arguments were considered healthy in a relationship; sure, you could have done without the harsh words being thrown back and forth to one another, but you realized in the coffee shop that you would rather bicker and disagree with Mark every now and then for the rest of your life, then to have a relationship filled with constant joy and laughter with someone else. 

It was obvious that he was probably just as tired as you were, but the thought of him staying up worrying about where you were and waiting for you to arrive back home filled your stomach with butterflies. You made your way towards the dining table and took a seat; you waited for him to make the first move because you didn’t know where to start. 

“Did you—uh—happen to get my texts?” 

You decided to keep your gaze on the cup of coffee he placed in front of you; you didn’t even notice him heating some up for you. Your boyfriend was very observant of the way that you practically lived on coffee; on the days you had morning shifts, he would set an alarm to wake up before you and prepared all the things you needed so that you had less to worry about—coffee being your number one necessity. If you were to look up at him, you were well aware that you would probably cry just at the thought of how considerate he was even under a negative circumstance. 

“Yes. I didn’t have a chance to read them though.” 

That was a lie. You read every single one of his messages; each message pulling on your heartstrings the more you continued scrolling through them. Although you no longer held any anger towards Mark, you didn’t want to give him the benefit of the doubt. A part of you also wanted to hear him apologize in person rather through messages—but you felt in your gut that he would sooner or later. Honestly, you wanted to wait until you were to come home from work tomorrow afternoon so that you were well rested enough to have the right mindset if another argument broke out. 

“Oh. Well, I—For starters, I want to apologize for the way I acted towards you. I don’t know what made me say the things I did—I meant it as a joke but you obviously didn’t think it was funny and I don’t know why I expected you to. I’m so fucking sorry y/n. I was an asshole and you didn’t deserve it at all. I know I said some really cruel things in the heat of the moment, but I hope you know I didn’t mean any of it. You’re not a bitch nor are you over-emotional and you don’t get on my nerves. At all. I just—hearing you say those things about me sparked something inside that I wanted to hurt you as much as you hurt me. It took every bone in my body not to run after you. I’ll admit, sure—it was because I wanted to give you your space, but I was also very prideful and still so irritated with the entire ordeal. I regret every single thing I said and did tonight as soon as I realized just how scary it is being out late at night by yourself. I’ve never hated myself more than I did in these last two hours worrying about where you could have gone and what you were doing. I couldn’t stop thinking about your broken expression as you grabbed your things and stormed out the door.” 

His voice quickly grew shaky; you knew he was on the verge of crying again just by the tone of his voice. For some reason, you found yourself giving in to him and finally looked up. It felt like a slap to the face; seeing him with the most heart wrenching frown—not once in your relationship did you ever question Mark’s love for you and right now, hearing that he beat himself up for the last few hours while he was going crazy thinking of the many possibilities that something bad happened to you made you come to the realization that the beautiful man in front of you loved you more than you could ever fathom in to words. 

“I know you’re tired from work—I don’t know why I didn’t just keep my mouth shut. If I could, I’d go back and prevent this entire night from happening. I was so fucking scared y/n. You don’t know California all that well; you could have taken a wrong turn and ended up on your way to Las Vegas—your car could have broken down in the middle of nowhere and someone could have came and—I don’t even want to think about it. I’m sorry for hurting you—I know you’re well aware that I would rather sit and suffer through listening to Yugyeom and BamBam screaming while playing MarioKart than to hurt you in any possible way. You don’t have to forgive me. Hell, scream at me; yell at me, hit me, do whatever you want to me. Just know that I’m extremely sorry, and I’ll do whatever I have to in order to get you to trust me again.” 

He hesitantly stood up and didn’t even spare a glance at you before making his way back into the living room. You were upset that he didn’t give you any time to respond, but at the same time—you were extremely grateful. Right after he left you all alone at the table, you allowed the tears to flow freely from your eyelids as his apology continuously replayed in your mind. Whatever exhaustion you felt from earlier that disappeared right after you abruptly left the apartment was quickly returning—though, you didn’t know if you were physically tired or just mentally drained at this point. 

You gave yourself a couple of minutes alone just to plan out what you were going to do. Going to sleep sounded like the most rational decision to make; especially because you were meant to wake up in less than four hours to work another long, grueling and tiresome ten-hour shift. But you didn’t want to go to bed on bad terms with Mark. If he was willing to give up his pride and raise the white flag first just to make sure you were well aware that he was extremely regretful and apologetic of his actions, then it was only righteous of you to forgive him. You got up from your seat and put away the cup of coffee before taking in a deep breath and making your way in to the living room. 

The lights were off; but the lights from the hallway were still dimly lit enough for you to notice that Mark was lying down on the couch with a pillow and a blanket wrapped around him. This was the first time since you moved in together that you found him outside on the couch. A small smirk raised on your face—your boyfriend was always so courteous and considerate. 

He began tossing and turning in order to find a sleeping position he would be comfortable in. Your couch was pretty spacious and the two of you have slept on it countless times while watching movies together, but you were sure he was probably bummed by your response or lack thereof. You walked over to the end of the couch and gently tapped his thigh with your knee to get his attention. 

“What are you doing?” 

Although there was barely enough light to even see his figure, you were able to see him shrug nonchalantly at your question—as if you already knew the answer. 

“You’re still mad at me. I don’t want to make matters even worse. I’m giving you your space—“ You surprised both yourself and your boyfriend by flopping on top of him, earning yourself a soft whimper. Nonetheless, his hands made their way down towards your lower back without hesitance. His heart was racing against your chest; you had a feeling he wasn’t expecting for you to forgive him tonight let alone throw yourself in top of him. The two of you sat in silence for a couple of minutes, the only sound that could be heard was your breaths and his fingers tapping lightly on your skin. He placed a couple of gentle kisses on your jaw and gripped at your chin; lifting it up to make eye contact with you. 

“I lied. I did read the messages and I cried like a baby—you ass. Okay, I’m gonna start off by admitting that there were some things I also said that were out of line and that I did not mean. You are not a bad boyfriend at all Mark—you are the best boyfriend—hell, you are the best thing to ever happen to me. A lot of what I said was because I was so pissed off at you. I had such a terrible day at work. I was scolded by my manager twice for things I didn’t do, I had to work two extra hours to help out because three people called in sick, I was thrown up on and my break was cut short because we were so low staffed today and everyone in California all seemed to have kidney malfunctions on the same damn day. All I wanted to do was fall apart in your arms and have you comfort me like you always do—but then I come home and you make a comment about how lazy I am and I just—I cracked. Normally you’re always so good at picking up on the fact that I’ve had shit days; so, for you to make me feel even worse when all I wanted to do was find solace in you—it made me so fucking sad. And then I went out and drove for a while but I came to the realization that it wasn’t a good idea for me to roam around in a city I’m not familiar with while I was fuming so I went to a coffee shop and just thought about everything.” 

Feeling his grip on your hips tighten only made it evident that your words had an effect on him. Sure, you were telling your side of the story and you had every right to—Mark deserved to hear what an asshole he was towards you—the last person in his life that he ever wanted to hurt. But he could just picture you sitting in your car; sobbing and blaming yourself like you’ve done multiple times in the past even if it wasn’t your fault. You were the kind of person who had a tendency to think you were the reason why things went wrong. 

Usually, it was in situations at work; but he couldn’t help but feel as if you were beating yourself up about the argument that could have honestly been prevented if he observed your posture and body language and just kept his mouth shut. You wiped away a tear that fell from his cheek before placing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. 

“I wanted to continue giving you your space, but I had so many negative thoughts running through my mind. I was so, so worried about you. Baby I am so fucking sorry—“ you playfully pinched his cheek before covering his mouth with your hand. 

“No more apologies okay? Our argument is in the past. I just want you to know what happened and why I decided to return back so soon. If I’m being honest with you, I was planning on staying out until I had to head in to work again but sleeping in my car is not the most easiest thing to do. You hurt me Mark—I know it wasn’t purposely but for a few minutes, I actually contemplated on staying at a hotel or something. I didn’t want to see you for the rest of the night and I hated that I felt like that—even if it was for a split second. I always want you Mark. Every second—every minute—every hour spent away from you is spent thinking about you. What you’re doing, if you ate your meals on time, how you’re doing, if you miss me the way I can’t stop missing you, when I’ll get to see you next—then I got your message and they just solidified the love you have for me. Not that I ever questioned it once in our three years of dating. I’m sorry about the dishes—I’m sorry if I haven’t been myself these last few days but please Mark—I’m not acting this way on purpose. I’m so tired. You’re the only reason why I don’t end up in a mental institution at the rate I’m going. I’ll try to be better okay? I love you too by the way—so much.” 

The longer you spoke, the more tears fell from his eyes knowing how you must’ve felt so unhappy while overthinking the argument and just your entire day in general and he just felt so angry with himself. It was one thing for him to think about how much the argument must have bothered you, but it was another thing to hear you confess what had happened at work before coming home to a nagging and complaining boyfriend. 

He felt sick to his stomach and it was even more upsetting because he didn’t have the right words to explain just how sorry he was nor did he know what to do to make it known that he was regretful of the entire situation. Your boyfriend didn’t give you any time to prepare; he cupped your face in his hands and roughly connected your lips together. His lips were chapped and dry and tasted like salt from the tears. However, his movements were dominant and quick; his desire and need to kiss you was all that was on his mind at the moment. 

He wanted you to feel how much he loved you and how remorseful he was through the kiss. His tongue pushed down all but gently against your bottom lip before bringing it in between his teeth. The kiss continued to deepen the longer your tongues battled for dominance; any anger you held for your boyfriend was completely gone at this point. As much as you loved the way his lips melded perfectly against yours, you were finally feeling the wave of exhaustion re-enter your body and to Mark’s disappointment, you pulled away and placed your forehead against his.

“Babeeeee—“

“Come on, let’s go to bed.” 

You got up from off of him and reached your hand out in order to help him up. Mark was the definition of a clingy boyfriend—everyone who knew the two of you both witnessed and heard just how possessive he was over you and how he constantly had to be touching on you. But nobody ever complained—it was so adorable. He wrapped his arms around your stomach and placed his head on your shoulder while letting you guid the two of you towards your shared bedroom. You attempted to escape his hold in order to move around freely, but he had other plans and continued to cling to you like a sloth.

“Babe, I have to get ready for bed—“

“You can get ready while I hold you.”

“I can’t take off my scrubs with your arms around me.”

“I guess that means I have to take them off for you—it would be my pleasure baby.” You rolled your eyes and gently shoved him while grabbing one of his shirts and making your way towards the bathroom. 

“Baby?” You hummed in curiosity and gingerly smiled at him. 

“It’s already 3 in the morning. Maybe you should call in sick. I don’t like the thought of you going to work with barely any amount of sleep and I know we’ve moved on from our argument—but it’s only human for you to think about it again. I don’t want you getting yelled at again if your manager senses that you’re tired. Plus, you’ve been working so much this last month. I know you love your job, but it’s okay to take a well deserved rest once in a while—“ 

He had a point. Besides Mark, work was your ultimate priority. Sometimes, you put the hospital before your own health and private life. There were occasions where Mark would invite you out with him and his friends, but a lot of the time, you would either be at work or sometimes be called in as you started getting ready. Working so much led to over exhaustion every now and then but no matter how sick you felt—whether it was a cold, the flu or nausea, you would still find yourself tending to patients. It was something Mark wasn’t all too fond of; especially because your boyfriend seemed to be the only one genuinely concerned about your well-being. 

As soon as you finished your nighttime routine, you wasted no time making your way towards where Mark was sitting on the bed and crawled on top of him. He gave you a tired yet toothy grin and pulled you close to his chest. His hands returned to your lower waist and he even playfully pinched your butt; earning himself a slap to the shoulder. You brought one of your hands in to his hair while cupping his cheek lovingly with the other. 

“I know you don’t want me apologizing anymore, but I just want to say sorry one last time. I can’t promise we won’t argue again—we’re both stubborn as hell—but I promise to be more patient; more understanding. And I don’t want you leaving—you really did worry me baby. I love you so much y/n. I’m sorry if what I said earlier made you question my love for you—but I love you. I’ve loved you for the last three years and I plan on loving you for the rest of my life.” You placed a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth before smashing your cheek against his chest. 

“I love you too. A lot more than I get around to telling you. Fine. If I stay home tomorrow, you owe me.” He gently pulled away from you and began wiggling his brows. 

“Oh, and what do you have in mind? You know babe, we don’t need to wait till tomorrow, I can give you what you deserve right now. I’ll take such good care of you—“

“I don’t mean sex you horny ass, I meant you make me breakfast in bed or prepare a bath for me. If I’m calling in sick, I want a relaxing day off.” He gave you an adorable pout while playfully hiding his face in between your breasts and whining softly. 

“Making love can be relaxing. Come on Y/n, it’s been almost a week since I had your pretty lips around my cock. I’m sex deprived. As much as I prefer you topping me and riding my cock like the professional cowgirl you are, I’ll take the lead. I’ll eat your pussy out until you cry—fuck you till you scream. Might as well you call out for the entire week. I think you and I both know angry makeup sex is the best sex. Don’t lie y/n, you miss having me inside of you just as much as I miss feeling your tight walls wrapped around me—“

“I think I made a mistake telling you to come in here. Go back to the couch.”

[cctinsleybaxter]

2020 in books

2020 was a year of changed reading habits; people reading more than ever or not at all, some changing their tastes and others turning to old comforts. While there weren’t any huge overhauls on my end, more free time did mean a total of 32 in a wider range of genres. In the past couple of years I found a lot of the things I read to be kind of middling and ranked them accordingly, but this year had some strong contenders in the mix. With college officially behind me I love nonfiction again, and I really need to stop being drawn in by novels with long titles that ‘sound interesting.’ A piece of advice to my future self: they will only make you angry.

The Good

The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoevsky I loved the BBC radio play when I first listened to it back in 2017, but didn’t know if I could stomach the idea of actually reading the 700-page book, especially since I already knew the plot (spoiler alert: this had no effect and I gasped multiple times despite knowing what was going to happen; Fyodor’s just that good at atmosphere.) The story follows Prince Lev Myshkin, a goodhearted but troubled man entering 1860s Petersburg high society and meeting all of the wretched people therein as he navigates life, laughs, love, unanswerable questions of faith, and human suffering. I care about it in the same way I think other people care about reality TV shows and soap operas. I’m so personally invested in the drama and feel so many different emotions directed at these clowns that it’s like being a fan of Invitation to Love (with an ending equally upsetting to that of the show ITL is from, Twin Peaks.)

Salt: A World History by Mark Kurlanksy I adored this book. The first half reads a little like a Wikipedia article, and I was worried that it was leaning too clinical and would be disaffected with colonialism and indigenous peoples, but even that oversight is corrected for as the text goes on. It’s not going to be for everybody because it really is just the world’s longest encyclopedia entry on, well, salt, but it’s written with such excitement for the topic and is so well-researched and styled for commercial nonfiction that I think it deserves any and all praise it’s gotten. We have to talk about that time Cheshire was literally sinking into the ground, and companies who were over-pumping brine water to steal each other’s brine water said ‘no it’s okay it’s supposed to that’ so were legally dismissed as suspects.

Midnight Cowboy by James Leo Herlihy Cried. 10/10. The plot of Midnight Cowboy is very classic and actually has a lot in common with The Idiot, as 20-something Joe Buck moves from the American Southwest to NYC and meets myriad challenges as a sex worker. I’ve been obsessed with the movie for a few years now and the book made me appreciate it anew; I think it’s rare for an adaptation to take the risk of being so different from its source material while still capturing its spirit. The movie doesn’t include quieter moments like the full conversation with Towny or time spent in the X-flat, nor does it attempt to touch Joe’s internal monologue or his and Rico’s extensive backstories, but these things are essential to the book and are some of the best and most affecting writing I’ve ever read. Finally! The Great American Novel!

The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones I would firmly like to say that this is probably the best horror novel ever written. The setup is very traditional in that it’s about a group of friends facing supernatural comeuppance for a past mistake, but delivery on that premise is anything but familiar. A story about personal and cultural trauma that raises questions about what we owe to each other and what it means to be Blackfeet, with a cast that’s unbelievably real and sympathetic even at their absolute worst. Creepypasta writers trying to cash in on the cultural mythos of lumped-together tribes wish they were capable of writing something a tenth as gruesome and good as this. It could very well be a movie the visuals and writing style were so arresting, and I can’t wait to read whatever Jones writes next.

Found Footage Horror Films: Fear and the Appearance of Reality by Alexandra Heller-Nicholas This is the least accessible title on the list since it’s a college textbook for people with background in film, but it was so nice to read a woman unpacking film theory with the expertise and confidence it deserves that I have to rank it among the best. I had an absolute blast reading it and am going to have to stop myself from bringing up the horror of 1960s safety films as a cocktail icebreaker.

Blood in the Water: The Attica Prison Uprising of 1971 and Its Legacy by Heather Ann Thompson

The year’s toughest read by far, but also its most rewarding. Thompson uses mountains of documents, government-buried intel, and personal interviews to explain what happened at Attica from beginning to end, and does a fantastic job of balancing hard facts and ‘unbiased journalism’ with much-needed emotion and critical analysis. It’s more important reading in the 2020s than any kind of ‘why/how to not be racist’ book club book is going to be, and the historical context it provides is as interesting as it is invaluable. The second half drags a bit in going through lengthy trial processes with some assumed baseline knowledge of legalese (which I did not have. All that criminal minds in 2015… meaningless), but aside from that editing and prose are some of the best I’ve seen in nonfiction. 

The Bad

The Woman in the Window by A.J. Finn A friend and I decided to read this together because I’m obsessed with how insane the author is and wanted to know if he can actually write.

He cannot.

The Beautiful Thing That Awaits Us All by Laird Barron Barron is an indie darling of the horror fiction scene, so I was excited to finally read one of his collections but can now attest that I hate him. If you’re going to do Lovecraft please deconstruct Lovecraft in an interesting way. I had actually written a lot about the issues I have with how he develops characters and plots, but one of the only shorthand notes I took was “he won’t stop saying ‘bole’ instead of tree trunk” and I feel like that’s the only review we need.

Bats of the Republic by Zach Dodson Look up a photo of this author because if I had bothered to glance at the jacket bio I honest-to-god wouldn’t have even tried reading this.

This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone I went in with high expectations since this is an epistolary novella I’d seen praised on tumblr and youtube but oh my god was there a reason I was seeing it praised on tumblr and youtube. This is bad Steven Universe fanfiction. Both authors included ‘listening to the Steven Universe soundtrack throughout’ in the acknowledgements, and to add insult to injury there’s a plug from my nemesis Madeline Miller.

The 7½ Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle by Stuart Turton The premise of this one plays with so many tropes I like that I should have been more suspicious. It’s a dinner party with stock characters one would expect of Clue, and rather than our protagonist being the detective he’s a man with amnesia stuck in a 24-hour time loop. Body-hopping between guests, he must gather evidence using the skillsets of each ‘host’ until he either solves Evelyn Hardcastle’s murder or the limit of eight hosts runs out. I read a lot of not-very-good books, and it’s so, so much worse when they have potential to be fun. This is how you lose the most points, and how I abandon decorum and end up writing a list of grievances: • Our protagonist can only inhabit male hosts, which I think is a stupid writing decision not because I’m ‘woke’ but because wouldn’t it make sense for him to also be working with the maids, cooks, and women close to the murder victim? • Complaining about the limitations of hosts makes some sense (e.g- there’s a section where he thinks that it’s hard to be an old man because it’s difficult to get to the places he needs to be quickly), but one of his hosts is a rapist and one of his hosts is fat. Guess which one gets complained about more. • One of the later hosts is just straight-up a cop with cop knowledge that singlehandedly solves the case. We spend some time being like ‘wow I couldn’t have done it without the info all eight hosts helped gather’ but it was 100% the detective and he solves the murder using information he got off-screen. • The mystery itself is actually well-paced and I didn’t have a lot of issues with it (e.g, there’s a twist that I guessed only shortly before the end), which makes it all the worse that the metanarrative of this book is INSANE. No spoilers but the reveal as to why our unnamed protagonist is even in this situation is stupid. I just know they’re going to make it into a movie and I’m preemptively going to aaaaaaaaa!!!

Trust Exercise by Susan Choi The fact that this was the worst book I read all year, worse even than the bad Steven Universe fanfiction, and it won multiple awards makes my blood boil. I could rant about it for hours but just know that it’s a former theater kid’s take on perception and memory, and deals with sexual abuse in a way that’s handled both very badly and with a level of fake deepness that’s laughable. Select fake-deep quotes I copied down because at one point I said ‘oh barf’ aloud: -I’m filled with melancholy that’s almost compassion. It’s sad the same way. -[On a friendship ending] We almost never know what we know until after we know it. -Because we’re none of us alone in this world. We injure each other.

There are also bad sex scenes that I can’t quite make fun of because I think (HOPE?) they’re supposed to be a melodramatic take on how teenagers view sex, but I very much wanted to die. Flowers were alluded to. Nipples were compared to diamonds.

Honorable/Dishonorable Mentions (categorized as the same thing because, well,)

The Life and Death of Sophie Stark by Anna North This book was frustrating because the first third of it is fantastic. It’s set up to be a takedown of the manic pixie dream girl trope, jumping from person to person discussing their relationship with the titular Sophie, and indirectly revealing that she was just some girl and not the difficult and mysterious genius they all believed her to be. Then in the third act, BAM! She was that difficult and mysterious genius and she’s now indirectly brought all the people from her past together. I wanted to scream the plot beefed it so bad, but the good news is I really liked this octopus description.

It was the size of a three-year-old child, and it seemed awful to me that something could be so far from human and obviously want something as badly as it wanted to get out of the tank.

Radium Girls: The Dark Story of America’s Shining Women by Kate Moore Cool new nightmare speedrun strat is to hear a 2-second anecdote from a documentary that people used to get radium poisoning from painting watch faces, be curious enough that you buy a book to learn more, and be met with medical and legal horror beyond anything you could have imagined. This was almost one of my favorite books of the year! Almost.

Radium Girls is very lovingly crafted and incredibly well-researched; one of those things that’s hard to get through but that you want to read sections of again as soon as you’ve finished. The umbrage I take with it is that it’s very Catholic. The author and many of her subjects are Irish and their religion is important to them, but it casts a martyr-y narrative over the whole thing that I found uncomfortable. Seventeen-year-old girls taking a factory job they didn’t know was dangerous are framed as brave, working-class heroes, but there’s not a set moral lesson to be gained from this story. Sarah Maillefer didn’t make “a sacrifice” when she agreed to the first radium tests, she agreed because she was terrified. She didn’t think she was helping she was begging for help.

The Mushroom at the End of the World: On the Possibility of Life in Capitalist Ruins by Anna Tsing Tsing is an incredibly skilled researcher and ethnographer; there are so many good ideas in this book that I’d almost consider it essential leftist text… if I could stand the way it was structured. Tsing posits that because nature is built on precariousness she will build her book the same way, allowing it to grow like a mushroom, and thus chapters don’t progress linearly and are written more like freeform poetry than a series of academic arguments. Some people are really going to love that, but I’m me and a mushroom is a mushroom and a book is a book. I don’t think in the way Tsing does, and while I tried to keep an open mind it’s hard to play along when something is this academically dense and makes so many ambitious claims. As if to prove how different our structuring methods are, I’ve made my own thoughts into a pros and cons list

Things I liked: • ‘Contamination’ as something inherent to diversity • ‘Scalability’ as a flawed way of thinking (Tsing has written whole essays about this that I find very compelling, but a main example here is that China and the US have come down on Japanese matsutake research for being too ‘site specific’ and not yielding enough empirical data) • Discussing how Americans were so invested in self-regulating systems in the 1950s we thought they could be applied to literally everything, including ecosystems • “The survivors of war remind us of the bodies they climbed over- or shot- to get to us. We don’t know whether to love or hate the survivors. Simple moral judgements don’t come to hand.” • Any and all fieldwork Tsing shares is amazing; I especially liked reading about the culture of mushroom pickers living in the Cascades and their contained market system

Things I didn’t like: • Statements that sound deep but aren’t, e.g- “help is always in the service of another.” (Yep. That’s what that means. Unless an organism is doing something to help itself which then nullifies your whole opening argument.) • A very debatable definition of utilitarianism • “Capitalism vs pre-capitalism,” which seems like an insanely black-and-white stance for a book all about finding hidden middle ground • A chapter I found really interesting about how intertwined Japanese and American economies are, but it tries to cover the entire history of US-Japan relations. Seriously, starting with Governor Perry and continuing through present day, this could have been a whole different book and it’s a good example of what I mean when I say arguments feel too scattered (the conclusion it reaches is that in the 80s the yen was finally able to hold its own against the dollar. Just explain that part.) • A chapter arguing that ‘true biological mutualism’ is rarely a focus of STEM and is a new sociological development/way of thinking which is just… flat-out not true

For all the comparisons art gets to ‘being on a drug trip’ this anthropology textbook has come the closest for me. Moments of profound human wisdom, intercut with things I had trouble understanding because I wasn’t on the same wavelength, intercut with even more things that felt false or irrelevant. I can’t put it on the nice list but I am glad I read it.

[bellablue42]

Myself as a writer and Death of the Author

I’m trying to write a novel, and it’s really hard. I feel like I’m not getting anywhere, I’m on my fifth draft and trying to create a lengthy enough narrative that doesn’t feel like filler. It is difficult, to say the least, and I really admire people with the ability to write quickly and well. 

But there’s a lot about She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named going around again, and it made me think. We all know that she’s not the best person, but she is a writer, and she is a creator, and her works are widespread. And that... causes problems.

Is it ok to consume her work? How much do her opinions reflect in her work, and can we spot it? I have no idea, but here’s my best shot, as an aspiring writer and a high-school literature student.

Please be warned I have no experience, and I’m kind of making this up as I go along, but here we go.

Last year, at the start of the school year, in Literature, my class watched Midnight in Paris. The movie was written and directed by Woody Allen, who is... well-known for all the wrong reasons, namely allegedly assulting seven-year-old Dylan Farrow. One of the girls in my class pointed out this fact, and my teacher nodded and said that we were discussing Death of the Author.

Death of the Author is an interesting topic. It holds that an author’s intentions and background should have no impact on interpreting a text. It is interesting, and it is really bloody hard to do.

Keep in mind that if you pick up a book by a relatively famous author, you will know something about them. If you take Mrs Dalloway, for example, if you’ve ever heard of Virginia Woolf, you will doubtless know that she was a writer and that she committed suicide, even if you know nothing else. The fact that she did commit suicide will influence the way you read Mrs Dalloway.

If you read Lady Lazarus by Sylvia Plath, for example, you will probably know that Plath was not mentally healthy and committed suicide by sticking her head in an oven. And that will influence the way you read Lady Lazarus. If you read any of Lovecraft’s work, you will come to the conclusion that he is a racist. It’s not hard to figure out.

Death of the Author means separating these facts from the way you interpret a work. It is really hard, trust me.

Because we look for links, everywhere we look for these links. We know that Sylvia Plath committed suicide, so when you read Lady Lazarus, you make connections. Go read Lady Lazarus now, go read it knowing that Plath committed suicide, and keep that fact in mind. Here’s the link: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/49000/lady-lazarus

Now read it again, and try to forget it, all the connections you made knowing that Plath stuck her head in an oven. It is really hard to do, because you know, and you remember. Death of the Author is forgetting the context of the author, forgetting their impact on the text.

Here’s a thing, I write a lot. Like, a lot. Not published, obviously, but I write about as much as I read, and that is a lot. And I believe, that when you write, you put a bit of yourself into it. It doesn’t have to be obvious, maybe just the way you connect to a character, or your views on a topic. I can’t say I don’t do this - my main character is an asexual lesbian who panics a lot and loves her girlfriend. Her competence doesn’t come from me, but the gender, the sexuality, the panic? All of that is inspired by, you know, me. My experiences, my opinions. I am conscious in my word choices, I’m trying not to use gendered language for the soldiers, because they are men, women, non-binary, genderfluid and others, all together, so my main character can’t call them her men, they are her soldiers. It’s hard. I’m aware that I have biases, and my reading experiences are usually texts that ... do not do this. 

Sorry, I’m rambling, and no-one wants to know. 

But I as a writer, put a bit of myself in my work. And I think that’s what makes Death of the Author so hard to do, so hard to remember. 

And now onto HER. I can’t remember what brought my attention to her in the first place, maybe a post about a Harry Potter tv show?

The problem about JK Rowling is that she wrote Harry Potter. And Harry Potter is... huge. The problem is that we grew up on Harry Potter. 

Looking back, there are big problems with the series; plot holes bigger than my fist, a lack of original plot lines, and little creativity. Harry Potter is a mishmash of already well-established genres and archetypes, and it... doesn’t fit together particularly well. 

(Take Dumbledore, at once the mentor archetype from the fantasy genre and the authority figure in the boarding school genre. The problem is that being both causes a bit of dissonance. He mimics the typical ‘wise old mentor wizard’ from fantasy, like Gandalf, but he is also a school headmaster. He is a grandfatherly teacher who takes an interest in the son of two of his past students, nothing particularly new, but at the same time, he’s a figure out of legend, an incredibly powerful man, both magically and politically. It is hard for my brain to fit them together well because they are two different archetypes and they don’t mesh. They belong in different genres, because the way he is written can’t seem to decide which one he is. I might write more on this later if anyone’s interested)

But Rowling’s a TERF. And she’s been on Twitter and said all sorts of bizarre things about the odd mish-mash of genres she’s created. I’m not really a fan of Harry Potter anymore, I grew up with it. I have seven books in a shoebox under my bed. I have read far better books, I have read many, many books with more interesting stories, better internal consistency and characters with actual depth, who don’t need fandom to be interesting. 

And yet I still have all seven books in a shoebox under my bed. It’s hard. I genuinely liked the books - when I was twelve. I’d sooner recommend the Discworld books by the late great Sir Terry Pratchett than Harry Potter, and not just because of HER. They’re better books. Harry Potter is average. 

But we loved them. 

And Rowling’s a TERF. Her views on trans people are... not okay, by any measure. I don’t have words for ... how great the cognitive dissonance is. She wrote a series, a seven-book, eight-movie series, about the power of unconditional love. Over a million words, just under 20 hours about acceptance and tolerance. And yet she doesn’t believe that trans women are women. 

The problem is that it is hard to apply Death of the Author. Once you know that JK discriminates against transgender people, it is hard to read Harry Potter without remembering that. 

Then you get into other issues about how all of the endgame couples are straight. And Dumbledore’s only gay when the series is ended. And there’s a lack of diversity in the books and the movies. And once you start reading into it, it gets ... iffy. Because it’s not meant to be read into, not meant to be analysed. It’s a children’s series. But it’s problematic, not for the things it says, but fo the things it doesn’t say.

The thing is that SHE is impressive. As a writer, at least, not as a person. Because it is hard to write, and she managed an extensive, relatively-coherent storyline across seven books, released over ten years. But her first book got rejected, again and again. 

Her net worth is somewhere between 650 million and 1.2 billion. And she earns all that money off a book series whose main themes are friendship and love. And she’s a TERF.

I can’t say I hate her - I don’t know her. She might be a genuinely nice person, but she’s a TERF. She doesn’t believe that trans people are the gender that they say they are. I cannot understand how you can believe that, but. She does, apparently. She wrote so much about love conquering all evil, and friendship saving the day, but she doesn’t think that trans women should be allowed into female bathrooms.

I hate her ideology. 

Go read Discworld instead. Think about Death of the Author, then read Night Watch. It’s a great book. Or go read Good Omens, because Pratchett co-wrote that. 

The thing about Discworld is that you can tell what Pratchett thinks is worth paying attention to. Small Gods is primarily about religion, about belief, and about people. The last one is the most important, because Pratchett believed that the greatest thing you can be is human and kind, and he’s right. The witches on the Discworld are... perhaps not nice, but they are decent, and they are fundamentally people. They are human, and they are kind, and that is what makes them good people. 

The thing about Harry Potter is that “Muggle” sounds like a slur. There’s all this attention paid to the whole “mudblood” thing that people forget that behind all the blood purity nonsense - which sounds a lot like eugenics - the purebloods, the rich entitled kids, believe that non-magical people are less than animals. The Wizarding world is stuck in the Middle Ages, not even the bloody Renaissance. Human history has passed them by. It is so hard now to read Harry Potter without finding problems, like how all the magicals are fundamentally stupid, how a literal one-year-old is praised for supposedly killing an extremely powerful mass-murdering psycopath. A one-year-old. The Wizarding World is not a functional society, and it’s not meant to be. It’s not meant to hold up to scrutiny.

Look, Harry Potter is average, at best. Ask me for good kids books and I will point you in a dozen different directions, and I will point you in a dozen different directions - but not there. 

Because Death of the Author is hard. Not taking the creator’s intentions and background into account when interpreting a work is hard. You can know that an author is queer, or a person of colour, or of a certain religion, but once you know it, it is hard to not see it. 

You see, all the main characters in Harry Potter are white. They’re also all straight. Everyone not Harry Potter is flat. There is very little depth to anyone in those books, because they don’t matter. Hermione is defined by her relationship with Ron because her relationship is the most debated part of her character. Ron - in the movies at least - is seen as stupid because he is written stupid, he is written as comic relief. Book-verse Ron is a strategist, but that’s only really shown in the first two books. They’re not written with depth, they don’t need it. Harry’s the protagonist, Hermione’s the smart one, Ron’s the dumb-but-loyal comic-relief best friend. Ginny is the love interest, Luna’s the crazy one, the twins are comic-relief pranksters. Draco is the racist antagonist, Voldemort is a more extreme mass-murdering version. There are exactly zero trust-worth adults in a whole seven-book series, there are three? characters with depth in the whole series, everyone else is defined by a role and a single characteristic.

It is so hard to look critically at Harry Potter and not see everything that relates to Rowling. It is problematic as a series, and problematic as content created by a TERF. It is problematic as literature in the first place. It’s written as a kids book, but for all its ‘adult’ themes, it can’t stand up to scrutiny.

This got long - I got a bit carried away. Sorry.

Tell me what you think, tell me your opinion. I’d love to discuss this with you because it so hard to write about. Argue with me, tell me I’m wrong. Tell me I’m right if you think I am. Have I said anything problematic? Please lets start talking about this because it’s interesting and a difficult topic, and I think we need to start looking closer at authors and content creators. 

[brunhiddensmusings]

an issue i have with movies

or, rather, that the movie industry has and im calling them out on it that the movie industry makes stupid assumptions about what does or does not work while ignoring the real reasons why a movie succeeds or fails because that would take too much effort and thought despite ‘filmography’ being a legitimate course of study that i would really hope that people paid tens of millions of dollars to make movies have some understanding of and/or hire people with the relevant degrees because i KNOW when a movie like ‘midway’ flops hard  the reaction of the movie industry is ‘i guess people dont like historical war recreation dramas’ instead of looking a bit harder and realizing ‘i guess people dont like a movie with no main characters, nothing to tie the existing cardboard cutout characters together beyond a vague setting, and a strange inability to make anything its showing on screen relevant as a plot rather then just listing things that happened with no explanation, narrative, or point of reference character’..... although im okay with ‘WW2 movies’ being put back into dormancy because theres more then enough of those and they have kind of messed up how every other war movie made after saving private ryan functions ive seen this time and time again that a movie that is badly made flops because its badly made, and the film industry then acts like some other element is why people avoided it its kind of crazy to think now but before LOTR came out the film industry had considered fantasy movies to be toxic for years, despite the 80s and 90s having some very well loved fantasy movies like ‘willow’, ‘neverending story’, and ‘labyrinth’ because of the number of really shit fantasy movies produced in that time. or if not shit then at least movies that didnt do well until much later when people started enjoying it for different reasons like ‘legend’.... but the sheer number of fantasy movies at the time that were given mediocre budget, garbage writing, and the only saving graces were how much effort the lead actors tried to give their inarticulate screams as the stabbening commenced made the industry think ‘i guess people dont like fantasy movies’ instead of ‘i guess people are not impressed by corny stories with no setup and are ultimately destined to be reviewed by drunk youtubers who heckle B-movies’. yall remember ‘deathstalker’? cause there were like 40 of that movie, conan was a rare gem in a sea of halfassery and then AFTER lord of the rings they try a fit of fantasy movies trying to cash in on this ‘hip new trend’ and while a few of them are okay, most of them are pretty blatantly trying to copy what LOTR did by the numbers as shamelessly as possible, then theres also quite a few that limply flop over the line of mediocrity until movies like ‘your highness’ where the drunk prince wears a minotaur wang around his neck as a battle trophy and ignores sexual molestation by a wizard (ah yes, great comedy recounting those times a wizard touched you when you were a young boy, hilarious for the whole family) ultimately bring people back to square 1 instead of asking ‘maybe if we made a -good- fantasy movie again instead of throwing larger piles of money at bad ones’ and so have movie genres been thrown under the bus for the failings of individual film studios making openly shitty decisions instead of acnowleging that a movie lives or dies on if its GOOD rather then by ‘i guess people dont like full costume period movies anymore’ and its the death of so much potential on the example of costume period movies you may have heard Lindsay Ellis talk about pirates of the carribean on this exact kind of concept, if you hadnt i will gladly add a link to her video on it upon request, but the point is that the assumption at the time was ‘people dont like pirate movies anymore’ because of the dearth of mediocre low budget and shit writing pirate movies made in the 60s-80s, and building on that people kept assuming that what we today would consider the ‘interesting bits’ about pirates of the carribean such as the zombies and jack being a loon the filmmakers at the time were considering ‘ruining the movie’. now i have many complaints about the pirates of the carribean franchise but the first movie is a cinematic classic that fully stands on its own merits, yet i would have been bored to tears trying to watch the version that would have been made if the cut out the zombies, curses, crazy people, and.... really what would be left of that movie? and yet still it happens time and again like clockwork when a robin hood movie is made once a decade, its either only alright or a complete flop, and then nobody wants to make that movie again for eight years then they make another robin hood movie copy/paste that last paragraph but replace ‘robin hood’ with ‘king arthur’ because holy damn are there a lot of bad robin hood/king arthur movies out there. granted theyre public domain so nothing to stop them but when will people learn? literally only two king arthur movies were unanimously good and one of those was monty python and the other was a disney animated classic. literally only three robin hood movies were any good and again one was a disney animated classic and one of the others was Mel Brooks making fun of the Kevin Costner one if public domain was the key element there then you would expect them to keep pumping out..... oh yeah, i forgot the movie where the frankensteins monster does parkour in modern cities to kill gargoyles was a thing, and the beauty and the beast remake where ‘the beast’ is a rich kid in suburban america who is ripped but bald and covered in tattoos and theres some shit about prom.... uuuuuuuugh, theres actually a lot of these ‘reimaginings’ that while the idea of reimagining a timeless classic is cool, they ultimately handle like a steaming turd and then, again, claim its that it failed not because they made a moist cowpat but rather it failed because nobody today likes the frankenstein monster- i for one would argue that an audience today would LOVE a faithful reimagining of frankenstein that really digs into the meat of that premise instead of making him a large green zombie that goes ‘fire bad’ and lets people get dug into the byronic shenanigans of that time im losing my train of thought but moral of the story is that people who make movies will always blame them failing on the -type- of movie it is rather then that they made a bad movie or draged something on way longer then it should be (just because one well written gritty retelling of batman did well does not mean every superhero movie must be dark and gritty without the well written, just because some of the marvel movies put the ‘fun’ back into comic movies doesnt mean we need 34 of them) blegh, i should have used visual aids for this but its too late to figure out what to use now discussion encouraged

[tryingtobeclassy]

park seonghwa . . . night time rides : part I

part ii.

genre: Seonghwa x female!reader, a bit of San x reader as well, college au, roommate au

description: You always loved taking late night car rides with your friends. But before you know it, they turned into sessions of you whining and them enjoying the drama and trying to offer advice how to win over one of your roommate’s closest friends you were crushing on like an idiot.

word count: 5.2 k

warnings: swearing, alcohol, smoking

.         .         .          .          .

Night time rides were something else. Driving around through the dark streets with all the lights flickering around and throwing their warm colours onto their surroundings felt peaceful. It felt like wandering into a different dimension. Where time stops. Where things almost always feel weirdly nostalgic.

Night time rides usually feel like an escape from reality. Yet this time you were in the car not just to escape it but to reach a solution for a problem that has occurred in it.

“Sup, bitch”, your friend Luca greeted as he entered the car and made himself comfortable in the back seat since your other friend Zia already occupied the front spot.

“We have an issue”, you said the second he closed the car and started slowly drifting down the street.

“Obviously”, he commented. “If you pick us up just to drive around with you and maybe stop in a drive-thru in the middle of the night, it always means there’s an issue.”

“Did you embarrass yourself in front of the building receptionist again?” Zia asked half interested half just mindlessly staring outside.

“What? No!”

“Did Hongjoong mess up the laundry and you don’t know how to tell him it’s just not good?”

“No.”

“Did you overcook pasta?”

“What kind of problem even--No! Just listen!” They finally got silent. “It’s about Seonghwa”, you finally managed to say.

Zia immediately seemed a lot more interested in the whole conversation. “Oh! That dude you like?”

“Fuck yes! Tea time”, Luca exclaimed. “I want every last detail.”

.   .   .   .   .

earlier that night

It was quite late when you finally made it home. Thanks to a professor being sick you had to have an extra lecture to catch up on the whole curriculum and apparently there were no free classrooms except on a Friday evening. It wasn’t that exhausting if you were being honest but just very boring. And it felt like a waste of time that you could’ve spent doing something fun.

You opened the door to the apartment you shared with your friend Hongjoong hoping to finally get some peace and quiet, maybe watch a movie or something, just to have your dreams immediately crushed as you saw eight men hoarding the small living room.

“y/n, you’re back!” Hongjoong yelled excitedly.

All heads turned around to see you and a loud cheer of greetings filled the room as everyone tried to say hi at the same time.

“Fuck, I didn’t know you’d be having friends over”, you said to him, a subtle whine crawling inside of your voice.

“It was a spontaneous decision.”

“Right.”

“Wanna join?” Wooyoung asked cheerfully. “There’s plenty of drinks left.”

You stood in your spot for a second just sort of squinting at all of them as your brain was going through a bunch of thought processing. You weren’t too tired and despite hoping to have a chill night, some socialising didn’t seem too repulsive to you at that moment either. And you even knew all of the guys already since Hongjoong would often invite them over so extra energy for meeting new people wasn’t exactly required.

“Sure, why not?” you said as you threw your hands giving in to the temptation.

All of them seemed to be very satisfied with your decision as another loud cheer broke out through the room. You grabbed a beer from the kitchen and thanks to Yunho being a sweetheart and moving from the couch onto the floor, you got a decent spot as well.

“So what have you lads been up to?” you asked and took a few sips of your beer tho you weren’t sure if anyone heard you cause the conversation they were having was getting quite intense.

“We’re discussing if ninjas or pirates are better”, Yunho answered making you laugh for a second.

“And it’s getting this serious?” you asked, a huge grin on your face.

“y/n, can you pick a side?” San suddenly yelled. “We’re currently divided in half.”

“Obviously pirates”, you answered without taking another second to even think about it and it made half of the room dramatically gasp. “They literally have ships and cannons. The fuck do ninjas have?”

“Thank you. That’s exactly what I also said”, another voice got involved.

Your eyes automatically turned towards the owner of the voice and they were met with Seonghwa’s. It wasn’t the first time you noticed him that night, but it was the first time an interaction happened between you two and as always your heart decided to skip a beat or two as it always does when Seonghwa gives you only a small fraction of his attention. That’s all that was needed with him.

“Ninjas can be invisible”, Jongho protested through a pout snapping you back to reality.

“I thought this was based on logic”, Yeosang attacked his statement.

And the discussion kept going on. And on. It lasted way longer than you expected. Mingi got super heated at one point and was told to have a time out on the balcony which he barely accepted and was sulking like a small child the whole time. You lost them at the point when they were getting way too detailed about sword fighting - your thoughts just wandering around.

Soon enough your bottle of beer was empty and if you wanted to stay any longer you needed some more alcohol in your blood to endure the amount of bullshit that was being said. The kitchen felt so peaceful, contrasting heavily the mess happening on the other side of the wall. But you couldn’t decide if it was good or bad kind of peaceful.

“Hey”, a sudden voice crept on you out of nowhere making you jump in your spot and yank the fridge door so hard it almost resulted in some glass bottles stashed there breaking.

“Sorry, didn’t want to scare you.”

You turned around and was found face to face with Seonghwa who had a huge dumb smile on his face obviously very amused with how scared he got you and not really all that sorry.

“Do you like levitate an inch from the floor? How are you so quiet?”

He lightly laughed and made his way closer to the fridge and where you were standing.

“What do you want?” you asked opening the fridge again.

He got so close that his chest brushed slightly against your shoulder making you almost twitch at the contact. “I thought it was obvious”, he said with a tone that almost sounded playful but you weren’t sure if it’s just your ears making a fool of you. Still, it made your head suddenly shift towards him. He was standing so close that you could almost feel his body warmth just radiating out of him. Or maybe it was just your body getting hot cause he was. right. there. He never stepped inside of your personal space this much before and you weren’t sure how to react.

“So uh?”, you stuttered for a second. “Another beer?”

He stared at you for a second longer, an expression you couldn’t possibly read, before his lips stretched into a half smile and he moved a few steps back.

“Yes”, he said, this time way quieter. “Another beer.”

.   .   .   .   .

“Girl”, Luca yelled once you were done with the whole story of that night. “That’s why you got us out of our beds?”

“You’re driving after drinking?” Zia seemed to be concerned with different problems.

“Yes! That’s why I got you out”, you said as if it was the most obvious thing. “Like I’m so confused. What the hell was that?”

“He was drunk and stood a bit too close to you”, Zia said unamused. “I don’t wanna shit on your party, but I don’t think there’s much to it.”

“But you didn’t feel the tension at that moment.”

“You know I usually believe in vibes and stuff but I’ll have to agree with Zia on this one”, Luca added his own piece of mind. “Do we even know if he’s single or not?”

“We do. I asked Hongjoong once”, you answered through your teeth.

“Oh, so he knows you’re crushing like an idiot on one of his closest friends?” Zia said, sounding very amused.

“I mean, not really. I hope not. I once asked him if any of them are dating to which he got very suspicious asking me which one of them do I like.”

“Smart man”, Zia commented.

“What did you say to that?”

“I said don’t be an idiot, I’m just curious.”

“Can’t believe that passed”, Zia threw another comment.

“Anyway, I think you owe us some fried chicken as a sorry for getting us out at this time of the night”, Luca exclaimed. And that was the last of it.

At least for that night.

Around a week later the gang was back in the car as you said you wanted a chat and a late-night smoothie.

“So anyway”, you started casually trying to start the next topic as smoothly as you were sliding into the next turn. “Remember when we talked about Seonghwa last week?”

“Oh, so that’s why you called”, Zia said flatly.

“It better be good this time”, Luca muttered as he already gave you his whole attention. “I’m all ears, darling.”

.   .   .   .   .

the night before

You groaned in frustration as you were trying to figure out a part of the lecture that just wasn’t clicking. After staring at the text for a little longer you finally decided to take a proper break and go feed yourself hoping that would get you some energy that you were seriously lacking. You had to make your way through the living room to reach the kitchen where Hongjoong was hanging out with Seonghwa and Yeosang - drinking beer and just very loudly playing some video games. They didn’t really pay much attention to you as they were too immersed in the game and in a way you were thankful cause you weren’t exactly in your best looking addition.

You grabbed some cereal and soon enough you were seated over the textbook again. Cereal managed to give you enough strength for approximately half an hour before you completely gave up and got out of the room again.

“Yo, Hongjoong, did you see my cigarettes?” you yelled to the couch.

His face didn’t shift an inch but a long mmmmmm got out of his mouth making you know he at least heard the question but whether or not he registered its meaning was a whole other story.

“I think you left them on the balcony.”

You got on the balcony, leaving the loud crashes coming from the tv and excited yelling from the three guys in front of it behind you. Just as he said, the little pack of cancer sticks really was on the table. You always told yourself how you should probably quit it but in moments like these when you were feeling frustrated and rather stressed they offered a sort of comfort. Unhealthy yes. But that would be a future you problem.

The night was chilly but still relaxing. The cold even managed to put your mind a bit more at ease as you just sat there and stared into the tiny street lights scrambled all over the place.

“Hey”, a voice suddenly called and of course, who else could it be, then Seonghwa himself.

You greeted him back and watched as he wobbled to the chair next to you.

“You okay?” you asked through an amused smile.

“Might have drank one beer too many”, he admitted through an almost shy smile that immediately melted your entire heart.

You patted his shoulder. “It happens to the best of us.”

“So what are you doing here? Just chilling?”

You made a short break as you pulled a final smoke and put out the cigarette in a small ashtray on the table next to you.

“Giving my soul a rest for a bit I guess.”

You switched your attention from the ashtray to him. He was silent for a few seconds and you just sat there in dark and silence feeling like you could almost hear your heart beating in your chest. He was sitting quite comfortably, his right hand even laying lazily on the back of your chair, while his eyes sparkled in the night and glanced at you every now and then.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

“I feel like I should ask you that question”, you smiled and motioned over his short sleeved black shirt while you were snuggled up in a hoodie.

You heard him lightly laugh. “I’m fine.”

“Seriously?” you asked surprised, your energy suddenly raising, even jumping slightly in your seat. “But it’s like really cold.”

He suddenly got fired up just like you. “So you are cold!”

You stared blankly at him for a moment almost confused as to what he was trying to achieve before bursting into laughter. “Of course I am. How are you not cold?”

“Why don’t you go inside?”

“Who’s gonna keep your drunk ass company if I go?” you teased, not really sure where the confidence came from.

A soft smile formed on his lips but before he said anything, you grabbed your cigarette pack. “I’m kidding. I just wanna smoke one more”, you added.

“Want me to try and make you warmer?”

You snorted not really expecting much logic from a drunk person. “Sure, mate. If you can do it, that would be wonderful”, and just as you were putting a cigarette between your lips you felt an arm wrapping around your back and for a moment you didn’t feel cold as hotness rushed through your body and straight into your cheeks.

Your first reaction was to just shoot your head towards him and meet his face much closer to yours this time. You felt like time stopped for a second and as if you were the main role in a dramatic romance scene. You were glad it was dark cause you were sure as hell you looked like a tomato at that moment and you were just praying that your heart wasn’t pounding intensely enough to vibrate through your entire body.

“Did it work?” he asked and you would’ve sworn his lips stretched into more of a flirty smile.

“M-more or less”, you barely pushed the words out, the cigarette almost falling out of your mouth.

You tried to get a grip so you turned and finally light up the cigarette but you still felt like your heart’s gonna jump out especially when he lightly pulled you even closer into himself and rubbed your arm as people usually do when they’re cold.

“Very helpful, thanks”, you said trying to sound sarcastic and play it cool and not let him know that you were literally having a mental breakdown.

You wanted the cigarette to last an hour. Two hours. An eternity. You were warm and comfortable in Seonghwa’s arms and despite a simple arm making your entire mind malfunction, you wanted to stay like that as long as possible. But darn cigarettes don’t be lasting longer than a few minutes and you didn’t feel like being too obvious if you stay there for too long.

Once the cigarette burned out, you stood up, gave him another friendly pat on the shoulder. “Don’t freeze out here, idiot”, you smiled and left.

.   .   .   .   .

“You left?” Luca screamed at you once the story came to an end. “Girl, that was such a good opportunity!”

“I panicked. I thought I’d come off as too direct if I stayed.”

Luca opened his mouth to say something but words didn’t come out while Zia just very loudly slapped her forehead in slight frustration.

“How do you intend on getting anywhere if you constantly keep your distance?” she asked you.

“Well…” you tried to think of something smart but no thoughts were formed that would either be logical or satisfy Zia.

“Also why is he low key creepy when he’s drunk?” Luca interrupted.

“Because the author can’t write guys flirting if her life depended on it.”

“What?” he asked confused.

“What?” you glanced at him.

“You just said-“

“Forget it”, you made a dramatic sigh. “I don’t need you guys to tell me I’m a wreck every time I have any kind of interaction with him. I’m aware of that myself. I need advice. That’s why we’re in the car.”

“The therapy patrol”, Zia joked.

“Vroom vroom advice van”, Luca laughed.

“I’ll drop you both in the middle of the street.”

“Okay, fuck, relax.”

“I think if you had tried something, it would’ve been just fine”, Zia said looking like she’s finally trying to think of a proper piece of advice she could offer. “Just stop thinking so much about it.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Mhm. I’ll try I guess.”

The Seonghwa conversation was done for that night. But it wasn’t long until it got brought up again a few nights later. You had a few days to think about what to do. To try and give yourself a pep talk to be more confident the next time you get any kind of chance with Seonghwa. So when you picked them both up after midnight – all three of you already in pyjamas – it was time for updates.

“I know it’s late. But I felt like my mind would explode if I didn’t share this as soon as possible.”

“It better be fucking good”, Zia complained while still blinking trying to push the sleep away.

.   .   .   .   .

earlier that night

It was once again a chilly night. Not too cold but you could still feel some icy feeling crawling under your skin. You still couldn’t believe you got yourself in the situation you were in. You just wanted to go to the nearest supermarket to grab some cigarettes but the trip you expected to go on alone turned out to be with Seonghwa. The moment you announced to the living room full of children in men’s bodies that you’re going, Hongjoong jumped to his feet and asked if you could buy some stuff they needed. You complained it was too much too carry. He exposed you of just being lazy to carry stuff. You said that’s stupid. And Seonghwa offered to go with you. And you definitely couldn’t complaint about that.

The two of you made some small chat over college. You complained about exams and all the deadlines and crap you had going on the last few weeks. The frustration over college managed to shift your thoughts a bit away from all the screaming your body was doing because of the situation it was put in. It made your heart stop beating like a maniac for a second.

His company felt comfortable. As if you were at home, wrapped in a warm blanket. It was easy to talk to him. Words just flowing naturally between you two. A few laughs bursting out here and there. He was always so sweet and gentle. And it made you fall for him more and more each time. You felt like you could rely on him. Even now. While balancing on a thin line between an acquaintance, just a person you knew through your roommate, and a friend. You weren’t quite sure what to call him. But whatever it was right now, you were greedy for more. You wanted more of him for yourself.

The shopping was done in a few minutes. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and some snacks to have another fun night with the boys and you acquired your cancer sticks. You lit one as you were walking down the street back to the apartment.

“How come you smoke?” he asked you.

For a second a wave of embarrassment washed over you. You never thought about the possibility of him not liking that and finding it as a huge turn off. But in his voice there was more curiosity than judgment like you expected.

“I only smoke during exams”, you said, feeling as if you came off way more defensive than you’d wanted. “They help a bit with all the stress.”

“I get that.”

“If you mind the smoke, I can throw it away.”

“Don’t worry about it. Half the people around me smoke as well.”

You glanced at him for a second, an eyebrow slightly raised. “Did you ever smoke?”

His lips formed into an almost awkward smile. “I did for a bit.”

“So what’s the secret of quitting?” you asked as you nudged his hand with your elbow.

“I liked a girl who hated smokers so I quit. And it kind of stayed like that even after nothing happened with her.”

You nodded your head as a short response while your mind was just thinking about way too much. “I don’t think that would be helpful for me but we’ll see. At least exams are almost over.”

You felt like you could’ve dropped in a little hint that you might’ve liked him. Zia and Luca would be proud to hear that you finally did something to push this into some kind of direction. Yet you did nothing.

You got to the building. For some reason you usually kept quiet inside. The echo and the thin walls made you feel as if the entire building is listening to your conversations so you preferred to keep it to yourself. Seonghwa didn’t seem to mind the silence. It surrounded you most of the time as you waited for the elevator and the first few seconds as you were in it. But suddenly your heart started racing again like a super car as Seonghwa leaned on the handle that went around the entire inside of the little elevator cabinet, his hand gripping the handle behind your back slightly brushing against your clothes.

He was close. Again. And you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“This might sound odd – but do I ever make you feel uncomfortable?” he suddenly asked. His hand moving from its spot but he still remained really close to you.

“What? Why would you get that idea?” you asked genuinely surprised with the question.

“I don’t know. You always seem kind of nervous when we talk. You’re not like that when you’re with the other guys.”

Oh. Oh. He noticed that. Does he pay that much attention to you?

You shifted your body a bit facing him now completely. “You’re the sweetest soul I know. I could never feel uncomfortable”, you said, a comforting smile forming on your lips.

He immediately responded with a smile as well. A smile as sweet as the best candy out there. “Thanks”, he said through a soft laugh.

The same silence wrapped around you two again. It felt as if it was pushing the two of you together. As if the space between your bodies grew smaller. You looked him into his dark warm eyes. You were glad there was a handle you could hold on to cause you felt as if your legs were turning to jelly. His gaze shortly fell away from your eyes before he made contact again and you would’ve sworn he looked at your lips. Only a few inches were separating you that you could almost feel his breath on your cheeks. Yet a few inches that felt like an entire ocean just shutting down closer. And closer.

And then the door opened and you were violently thrown back into reality. Both of you awkwardly shifted in your spots and exited the elevator. Some random chatter was thrown around again until you entered the apartment and your paths split.

.   .   .   .   .

“That’s it?!” Zia exclaimed. Now fully woken up.

“Why didn’t you stay with them? Things were obviously going in the right direction”, Luca asked, his cheeks red as he was obviously agitated.

“It was a boys night. I don’t wanna intrude that as a female.”

“You’re a dumbass”, Zia said slowly.

You purposely slammed the brakes a bit too harshly, making both of them get yanked forward. “What was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, how about KISS HIM”, Zia yelled back at you.

“There wasn’t a good situation.”

“If you had the balls you would’ve stopped him before he entered the apartment. From your story he was obviously into it.”

“Well we all know that I don’t have balls”, you said a bit too confidently.

Luca laughed for a second. “At least we all agree on one thing.”

“I swear to god, if there is no kissing action the next time you get us in this goddamn car, I’m rioting.”

“Fine.”

You took her words seriously. So despite wanting to go on another ride here and there, there weren’t any juicy updates that could satisfy their thirst for the drama in your life.

But it also wasn’t long until all three of you were seated in your usual spots again. You hoped but something in you also expected there could be some actual kissing finally involved soon. It was a rainy night. Luca was swearing something under his breath as he entered the car.

“There’s a situation”, you said almost nervously as you slowly made your way down the street.

There was a suspicious eyebrow raise that came from Zia while Luca excitedly clapped his hands. “Spill the tea, sis.”

.   .   .   .   .

the night before

It was another normal night. Miraculously you didn’t have anything to study but you didn’t feel like leaving your room either. You were perfectly fine with your blanket and laptop just chilling over some YouTube. Hongjoong had some of the guys over again. They weren’t making too much noise so you suspected they were probably watching a movie. You didn’t crawl out of you lair the entire night until Hongjoong knocked on your door and told you there’s some leftover pizza if you’re interested.

Wooyoung was almost shocked when he saw you walking towards the kitchen. “Yo, y/n! I didn’t even know you were home. You could’ve come and say hi.”

You waved your hand towards him as if trying to say hi and disappeared in the kitchen. There was a solid amount left but you weren’t in a mood for more than one slice. You sat on the counter next to the pizza box and began your feast. It would’ve been a wonderful moment shared between just you and your perfect slice of pepperoni pizza but San decided to insert himself into that peaceful moment.

A devilish smile formed on his lips. You never knew what that guy had on his mind. He was always radiating with confidence and something about him always seemed attractive and almost slightly dangerous. He often flirted with you when he’d have a chance but as the guys would say, he flirts with pretty much anyone, so you didn’t think much of it.

“How come a lady like you is stuck eating pizza all alone on a counter?” he asked, a spark in his eyes as he watched you.

“This lady was too lazy for a plate to take the pizza to her room”, you answered with your face stuffed.

You gulped down that last bite and reached for a napkin to wipe off any potential pizza grease left. You followed San with your gaze but gave him only half of your brain to think about him casually throwing away a can of beer before he suddenly walked towards you. You were sitting on the counter with your legs spread out which left a lot of space into which San just walked into, the next second being only a few inches away from you making you lean back in surprise.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to grab a shot glass”, he said apologetically as he opened the cabinet over your head and took out a small glass.

You expected that would be the end of it. He would get out of your personal little bubble and you wouldn’t have an entire body between your legs anymore. But he stayed there a second too long. That intense gaze of his staring at you.

“You don’t seem to be that sorry”, you joked once you noticed his lips curled up into a smile.

“You got me”, he laughed and paused for a second before he continued. “How could I be sorry to stand so close to someone so pretty.”

There he was again with the blatant flirts. It wasn’t anything new. Yet it felt completely different. You never had that feeling of something cooking in your gut before. That feeling that would then just spread over your body as a wave of heat.

You felt like you should’ve pushed him and just go before things get out of control. But your body wasn’t listening. You couldn’t make yourself do it. You weren’t sure if he moved forward but the gap between you felt smaller. His hands laying on both sides of your body on the counter.

And then it happened. You felt his soft lips touch yours. It lasted just a second before he moved back a bit, his eyes fixated on your own again. It was as if he was checking your reaction. If you wanted to move, now was the moment. Things already went into a direction you never wanted. You could’ve prevented it if you just got up in time yet you were still there. Still not moving.

His lips crashed against yours again. You didn’t even realize that you closed your eyes and responded back with the kiss until you felt his lips stretching into a slight smile. His hands wandered off the counter and around your waist pulling you closer into himself while your own hands found their way into his hair. You didn’t even think about what was happening. Your head went completely blank. You just knew you enjoyed it.

The kiss finally broke off and the two of you parted away gasping for air once the kitchen door was suddenly opened again. Your hands slid out of San’s hair and onto his chest pushing him slightly away to see who has intruded. Perhaps if anyone else but Seonghwa stood there the situation would’ve ended up differently. Maybe if it was Hongjoong you would’ve just went back to mindlessly kissing San. But it was Seonghwa. With an expression you never saw on his face before and that you couldn’t possibly read. One thing you knew for sure, it wasn’t an expression showing a positive emotion.

“Tell me when you two lovebirds are done so I can get myself a beer”, he said flatly and slammed the door behind him.

You could see San’s eyebrows slightly furrow as he eyed the door but before you let him do anything else, you pushed him gently away and jumped off the counter as you continuously mouthed shit under your breath. You didn’t give him a chance to say anything and you didn’t say anything. You just vanished towards your room. A million thoughts exploding in your mind. Anger filling your stomach. Anger at yourself at being a complete fucking idiot and letting yourself get into this situation.

[cherryeol04]

The Firsts

Summary: No one ever told him that living was going to be so difficult. That there would emotions get couldn’t label and distinguish. He’s just a young boy trying to navigate through life and its unexpected ups and downs.

Genre: Humor, Fluff, smut(?)

Pairings: Oc x Felix, Oc x Changbin, Changbin x Oc x Felix

Warnings: poly relationship, angst in some part, excessive fighting about the MCU.

Parts: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17

A/N: This story has a theme of Firsts. First love, first kiss and many other firsts. Each part can be read on their own and are meant to stand as oneshots. It’s basically a collection of oneshots (little snapshots into my Oc’s life. 😁)

“Thor.”

“Loki.”

“Thor!”

“Loki!”

“Neither!” Seungmin and Minho stopped dead in their tracks as they stared at Aiden with narrowed eyes. He hadn’t really wanted to get in between their little quarrel over which brother was hotter, Thor or Loki, but it had been going on for the past four hours and Aiden was actually tired of it.

“Excuse you?” Minho asked with a raised brow. “Have you even watched Thor?” He asked. 

“No.”

“Do you even Marvel?” Seungmin asked and Aiden shook his head. “Then you can’t contribute to this conversation!!!” He exclaimed, cheeks puffing out in frustration. 

“Oh, well excuse me!” Aiden held up his hands in defense and slipped between the two, walking ahead of them. There was silence for a brief moment before the two boys were back at their argument, trailing behind Aiden as they made their way up the long driveway.  Bang Chan was a friend of Changbin’s and extremely popular, or so Aiden had heard. His family was originally from Australia, but they moved when his father got a chance to expand their business in the Korean market - he was known as a self-made millionaire which of course made Chan a hit with all the people that wanted his family’s money. 

He was a sweet guy, if not a bit reserved and wary of people. But he has hit it off with Changbin one day during chemistry and the rest was history - though it had only been a couple of months. Chan has offered to host study sessions at his place and who were they to refuse such a generous offer? Their first visit, Aiden had expected to see a mansion but was greeted with a modest house. Decent size and you could tell that the place was pricey, but it didn’t scream wealth which had surprised Aiden but at the same time was a blessing. It put Chan in a different light for him - though rich, he was still a normal person and his family tried to live modestly.  True role model. 

Knocking on the door, it was opened in less than a minute to a bright-eyed and smiling Chan. “Hey guys.”

“He-“

“Channie hyung! Thor or Loki?” Minho asked as he pushed Aiden lightly, the male stumbling to the house.

“Whoa.” Chan wrapped his arms around Aiden quickly to catch him before he went tumbling down, eyes looking back at the other two. “Loki.” He said. 

“Ha! See, I told you!” Seungmin cheered happily, Minho simply rolling his eyes and scoffing. 

“Uncultured swine.” He snorted and made his way into the house - as if he owned the place - with a shake of the head. “Thor is the better of the two brothers and you can’t change my mind.” He huffed. 

“How can you say that when Loki is literally the best at everything?” Seungmin questioned as he followed quickly behind Minho, their voices fading as they disappeared around the left corner and into the study. 

“Uh...” Chan stared at Aiden in confusion as he stood upright and brushed himself off. 

“They’ve been going at it since the 5th period.” Aiden told him, flashing him a smile. “They won’t shut up and told me I couldn’t contribute to the conversation because I haven’t seen Thor.”

“You haven’t seen Thor?” Chan asked, his eyes wide, trailing after Aiden as he walked in.  Closing the door, Chan followed up his previous question with another. “Have you watched any of the Marvel movies?”

Aiden was silent for a moment, staring at Chan as he debated if he should answer truthfully or not. He could probably lie and get away with it, for now. But if the talk of Marvel movies and Thor continued, his lie would be seen so quickly. It was probably just best to say the through, despite how embarrassing it really was. “No, I haven’t.

He winced at the gasp Chan gave, loud and overdramatic and he knew he had made a grave mistake with this answer. “Oh my god!” Chan turned quickly, feet shuffling as he made his way into the den. “Aiden hasn’t seen any of the Marvel movies!” Chan’s voice was nearly drowned out by the loud gasps that fell from the other’s lips, complaints filling the air to the point Aiden wanted to just leave and pretend this didn’t happen. But he knew if he did run away, he really wouldn’t live this down. 

Reluctantly, he moved into the study and stared at his ‘friends’ as they all sat around a decent-sized coffee table - books and papers laid out for their intense study session that has yet to start. 

“I can’t believe you!” Seungmin scolded with a shake of his head. 

“How have you lived this long and not watched a Marvel film?” Woojin, Chan’s friend, asked concerned. 

“We bonded over Spider-Man dude. Spider-Man! I thought I knew you.” Changbin tsked, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“First of all, we were eight!” Aiden huffed and glared at Changbin, arms crossing in a mimic of the other’s posture. “Second of all, I’ve just been busy.”

“No one is too busy to watch a Marvel Movie. There is literally an entire cinematic universe.” Minho scoffed, disgusted by this horrid betrayal of his friend. 

“I have things to do!”

“Like what? Whine about how much you want to fuck Felix?” The words were said so nonchalantly that Aiden had to wonder if Changbin’s brain had been working when he so easily spilled his greatest secret. “I mean-“

“Whoa! Where did that come from?” Chan asked with wide eyes, head whipping back and forth between Felix, Changbin, and Aiden. 

“I don’t know. Changbin be out here making up stories so he can be so melodramatic.” Aiden hissed, eyes narrowed at the male and he could see Changbin shrinking in on himself, trying to apologize with his eyes. Aiden would only consider the apology if he could get out of this situation without anyone actually thinking he wanted to screw around with Felix. 

“I don’t date anyone who hasn’t seen at least Iron Man.” Felix said, a smirk playing on his lips as he joked. 

“Well damn, looks like you struck out buddy.” Chan laughed and clapped a hand over Aiden’s shoulder. “Aiden hasn’t seen a single Marvel movie.”

“Wow, you truly do love under a rock, don’t you?” Minho asked in awe. 

“Listen, Linda, can we dropped this stupid subject and actually study?” Aiden whined. 

“Marvel isn’t stupid. Marvel is life!” Seungmin protested and Aiden could only roll his eyes as he took his seat next to Changbin. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“At this moment in time, I don’t care.” Aiden stuck out his tongue at Seungmin, snickering with the other pouted. 

“Alright children, let's get down to business.” Woojin spoke, arms extending across the table to signify the end of this discussion. 

“Fine. But this isn’t over. Thor is superior and you all will see this, I swear to you.” Minho huffed as he flipped open his book to start working.  Felix was glad the topic had been dropped and everyone settled into a comfortable silence. It gave him time to think about things that had been said - words so haphazardly thrown about with no regard to the people involved. And what was Felix supposed to say? ‘Right on, let's find a bed and get down to business?’

How was someone supposed to act to such a crude confession as that? He wasn’t appalled by it - he knew that much - but it also wasn’t a favorable confession considering it came from Changbin. But Aiden did deny it, claimed it was made up but it was too specific to be a lie.  Changbin wasn’t that good at making up stories; his C+ literature project proved that much. So he laughed it off, continuing the joke of blasphemy about Aiden never seeing a Marvel movie. But he was aware now, so extremely aware. Every few seconds Aiden would lift his eyes to sneak a glance at him, Felix catching the movement out of his peripheral. 

He was a peculiar person, Aiden. The times that they had interacted alone, he seemed so shy and uncertain. Yet when with Changbin, his personality was alimony bigger than life and on countless times pulled laughter from him over something idiotic he had said or done. There was something about him that interested Felix in some way, but was it in the way that Aiden wanted? To suddenly have feelings forced upon you was inducing anxiety-inducing and suddenly he was feeling and questioning things he had never questioned before. 

‘Would it be worth it? Was he worth Aiden’s time? Would it work out? Did he even have feelings for Aiden in return?’ 

None of those questions were getting answered and they were burning the back of his mind, demanding some closure. The offer slipped out before he could even stop himself, lingering heavily in the quiet room. “You could always come over to my place and we could watch the movies.”

Aiden’s head lifted and their eyes locked. Everyone in the room stilled and Felix could swear they were all holding their breaths, waiting to see how this would play out. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t in the same position. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. I own all the movies, including Infinity War. We could have a movie marathon this weekend.” It was an innocent offer and yet Felix felt so guilty because there was so much meaning behind it, to him. A spur of the moment thing that would satisfy his need for answers. He just hoped he didn’t up hurting Aiden in the process. 

“Okay, sounds like a plan!” 

Well, that was easier than he thought. 

“Ooooh, sounds like a date~.” Minho teased, a smirk plastered on his face. “Felix and Aiden sitting in a tree -“ 

“F - U - C - K - I - N - G.” Seungmin continued, a matching smirk etched across his features as well. 

“I hate you both so much.” Aiden grumbled, the two boys giggling in happiness at Aiden’s discomfort. 

“It’s not a date.” Felix said quickly as he looked around the table. He wasn’t oblivious to the way Aiden’s face fell at his words and he quickly tried to back peddle his statement. “I mean-“

“Poor Aiden. Forever the unconfirmed gay virgin.” Changbin teased, laughing as he was punched in the arm. “Someday you’ll get some action.”

“I truly hate all of you.”

[aion-rsa]

Upcoming Movies in October 2020: Theaters, Streaming and VOD

https://ift.tt/3lducG3

October looks a lot different than it did only a few weeks ago. As the month many movie theater owners were hanging their hats on with the hope of a weekly deluge of new movies , October has recently been vacated by high profile features that include Wonder Woman 1984, Death on the Nile, and Candyman.

Yet if you’re  a cinephile or movie lover who is desperate for new stories and visions, it is not all doom and gloom. Between the streaming market of Netflix, VOD, and other platforms, as well as some smaller films willing to roll the dice on a limited theatrical release, there are still more than a few things to see in October 2020…

2067

October 2 (U.S. Only)

A high-concept science fiction setup if we’ve ever heard one, 2067 is the story of Ethan Whyte (Kodi Smit-McPhee), a young man born in a dystopian future where he learns that he might be the savior of humanity… at least that’s what people from an even more distant future are saying. In a plot twist that sounds, at least on paper, akin to a reversal of The Terminator, messengers from the future say Ethan is the key to saving the world and wish to transport him via time machine to an unknowable destiny. Chaos ensues. It’s a big idea, but we’re always game for someone swinging big in this genre.

Death of Me

October 2 (November 23 in the UK)

Darren Lynn Boseman, director of Saw II through Saw IV, returns to the horror genre again alongside Nikita’s Maggie Q and Westworld’s Luke Hemsworth. In this VOD release, the pair play a vacationing couple who wake up on an island with a horrible hangover. Yet a video on their phones seems to suggest the night before was even worse: Neil (Hemsworth) spent the evening brutally murdering his wife, as per the screen in their pockets. Nevertheless, here they are now, left with a lot of questions of what happened yesterday… and what can happen today.

Black Box

October 6

The first of Amazon Prime and Blumhouse Productions’ “Welcome to the Blumhouse” series, Emmanuel Osei-Kuffour’s Black Box has a tantalizing premise. Nolan (Mamoudou Athie) survived a car accident that took his wife, but it also took large swaths of his memory of her. So in order to regain his memory, and regain a sense of stability for his young daughter, Nolan undergoes an experimental treatment where his psychologist uses hypnosis to thrust him into his subconscious where he’ll be able remember his past and face his personal demons. Literally. 

Like something out of Christopher Nolan’s Inception, this horror movie shows how scary being trapped in dreams really is if all that’s in them is the stuff of nightmares…

The Lie

October 6

The second Amazon/Blumhouse feature is more of a psychological thriller than a straightforward horror movie. Originally premiering at the Toronto International Film Festival in 2018, The Lie follows a father (Peter Sarsgaard) who discovers his daughter Kayla (Joey King) accidentally killed her friend… until she admits she may have actually murdered her.

How far will he go to cover-up his daughter’s sins? Well, that’s the logline, and it seems to be a gripping one, albeit reviews from TIFF were less than kind two years ago.

Hubie Halloween

October 7

Last year Adam Sandler warned the Academy that if he doesn’t win an Oscar for Uncut Gems he’d make a film so bad that it’d make “you all pay.” Well, he wasn’t even nominated and eight months after the ceremony, here we are with Netflix’s Hubie Halloween. It remains to be seen whether this is actually the bad one—for starters it filmed before Oscar nominations went out—but it is still very much a Happy Madison production, complete with major supporting roles for Kevin James and Rob Schneider.

Read more

Movies

Uncut Gems: The Real Noir in Adam Sandler’s Classic

By David Crow

Movies

Horror Movies on HBO Max: Hammer Films, It Chapter 2, Us, to Arrive in October

By Don Kaye

In the movie, Sandler plays Hubie Dubois, the town loser of Salem, Massachusetts. A lonely fry cook obsessed with Halloween, Hubie spends all year looking forward to decking out his home and town the same way Clark Griswold anticipates Christmas. But on this particular Halloween, the town appears besieged by actual supernatural forces, and finally Hubie will have his time to shine. Eh, it looks more amusing than The Do-Over and The Ridiculous 6?

Books of Blood

October 7 (U.S. Only)

Who doesn’t love anthological horror? Hulu certainly does, as they’re releasing Books of Blood, the latest adaptation of Clive Barker’s multi-volume series of short stories by the same name. Previous tales from Books of Blood have been adapted into movies as beloved as Candyman and as decidedly not as Rawhide Rex. In this film version, three stories are created for the screen by co-writer and director Brannon Braga. Here’s hoping it lands closer to the former?

Saint Maud

October 9 (UK Only)

The UK will be the first to get A24’s only horror movie this year. Lucky. The feature directorial debut of Rose Glass, Saint Maud follows an unhealthily repressed and zealous young woman: Maud (Morfydd Clark). Maud is technically a caretaker by trade, looking after people in hospice. But she also imagines herself to be something of an apostle, sent to save godless folks from their sins, particularly Amanda (Jennifer Ehle), the woman she’s living with as the in-home nurse.

Read more

Movies

Best Modern Horror Movies

By Don Kaye

Movies

Best Horror Movies on Netflix: Scariest Films to Stream

By David Crow and 2 others

It’s already a tense situation, even before Maud starts hearing voices and having images of ecstasy and Heaven, and demons and Hell. Rich with atmosphere and grueling anticipation of something horrible happening, Saint Maud is a great debut for Glass and a potential star-maker for Clark, who is skin-crawlingly pious as Maud, the young woman who’s wound up tighter than a jack-in-the-box.

The Wolf of Snow Hollow

October 9 (U.S. Only)

Debuting in theaters and on VOD, The Wolf of Snow Hollow is Jim Cummings’ follow-up to Thunder Road. That earlier, underrated movie was a delightful mix of comedy and drama that won the SXSW Grand Jury Prize. So the sophomore effort being a werewolf comedy-horror movie is intriguing. Indeed, Wolf of Snow Hollow is the rare lycanthrope yarn that’s told from the point-of-view of the would-be wolf hunter, Sheriff John Marshall (Cummings).

Following a series of grisly murders every full moon, the residents of Snow Hollow become convinced they have a wolfman on their hands, even if the frustrated sheriff refuses to accept the obvious. The film also marks the final performance of Robert Forster as John’s crusty mentor.

The War with Grandpa

October 9 in the U.S. (October 16 in the UK)

For most people, having Robert De Niro as a grandfather can be an imposing experience. But kids these days! That’s at least one amusing takeaway from The War with Grandpa, the delayed family movie that sees De Niro’s grandfatherly Ed enter into a prank war with his grandson Peter (Oakes Fegley) after upsetting the youth by moving into his old bedroom—Peter’s mom and Ed’s daughter Sally (Uma Thurman) forced them into the arrangement.

Read more

Movies

The King of Comedy: What’s the Real Punchline of the Martin Scorsese Classic?

By Tony Sokol

Movies

Al Capone: 9 Actors Who Played the Original Scarface

By Tony Sokol

Soon shaving cream reveals itself to be foam sealant stuck to De Niro’s face, and Peter’s oral report announces he is a louse. Oh, and there’s a dodgeball battle in which De Niro is aided by a squad of screen legends like Christopher Walken, Cheech Marin, and Jane Seymour, to squash the pups. Now things are getting serious…

Nocturne

October 13

The first of Amazon and Blumhouse’s next batch of original movies, Nocturne is the tale of a hellish rivalry between sisters. Genuinely. The feature debut from director Zu Quirke stars Sydney Sweeney as Juliet, the younger sister of fellow musician Vivian (Madison Iseman). While both young women are gifted pianists, Vivian is a prodigy and the center of Juliet’s envy. That is until Juliet finds the diary of another child prodigy at their prestigious conservatory who killed herself. The book includes all the late pianist’s hidden compositions… and symbols and incantations.

Ever heard the story of Faust? It seems like Juliet is about to get an up-close modern example.

Evil Eye

October 13

As the final Blumhouse effort to be released on Amazon Prime in 2020, Evil Eye hails from directors Elan and Rajeev Dassani and presents itself as both a psychological thriller and supernatural chiller. The truth of which it really is depends on how much you believe the eye of Usha (Sarita Choudhury).

Read more

Movies

How Jason Blum Changed Horror Movies

By Rosie Fletcher

Movies

Jason Blum: No Plans To Restart Universal Monsters Universe

By Don Kaye

For this mother of Pallavi (GLOW’s Sunita Mani) is convinced her daughter is necking with a new boyfriend (Omar Maskati) who’s the spirit of an evil abusive ex Usha escaped in her youth. Is he the vestiges of a half-remembered curse or the potential victim of a mommy dearest prone to snap judgements? Tune in to find out for yourself…

The Trial of the Chicago 7

October 16

“The whole world is watching.” That’s the chanted refrain of protestors in Aaron Sorkin’s second movie as director, but it might also apply to the level of anticipation regarding this major Netflix release and potential awards season darling. The movie itself is an old-fashioned legal thriller like Sorkin cut his teeth on with scripts like A Few Good Men, but Chicago 7 feels urgently (and depressingly) vital.

Following on the heels of the Chicago riots during the Democratic National Convention of 1968—riots later deemed to have been started by the police—eight men categorized as “the far left” are rounded up for a show trial by Nixon’s Justice Department where they’re charged with conspiracy.

Read more

Movies

Aaron Sorkin: Donald Trump Made The Trial of the Chicago 7 Movie Possible

By David Crow

Movies

Quentin Tarantino Calls The Social Network the Best Movie of the 2010s

By David Crow

The film features the same blistering abundance of dialogue Sorkin has become famous for, as well as his penchant for breezy fast-paced editing. But the political heft of the subject matter and the movie’s deep bench of an acting ensemble that includes Sacha Baron Cohen, Jeremy Strong, Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, Eddie Redmayne, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Mark Rylance, and Frank Langella is what makes this one of the most thrilling movies of the year.

Honest Thief

October 16 (U.S. Only)

Liam Neeson plays a thief who wants a second chance. A bank robber willing to turn himself and $9 million in to be with the new love of his life. But then crooked FBI agents (Jai Courtney and Anthony Ramos) steal his money and frame him for murder instead. So he’s left with one thing to do: menacingly hiss over the phone, “I’m coming for you.” We imagine that trailer-ready threat was what Honest Thief was sold on during its elevator pitch.

Rebecca

October 21

Remaking Alfred Hitchcock remains a tricky proposition that has thwarted many filmmakers in the past. Readapting the only one of his movies to win the Oscar for Best Picture, Rebecca, appears all the harder. Yet everything we’ve seen from Ben Wheatley and Netflix’s luscious adaptation of the Daphne Du Maurier novel is highly encouraging.

With a winning cast that includes Lily James as the new Mrs. de Winter, Armie Hammer as her husband Maxim, and Kristin Scott Thomas as his menacing housekeeper Mrs. Danvers, the film opens with the young bride trying to step into the shoes of Maxim’s dead first wife, Rebecca. An apparent light of his mansion that has been long snuffed, Rebecca’s flame burns still if only because of Mrs. Danvers’ admiration for her late mistress… and maybe the ghost who prowls the house. This is archetypal Gothic horror, and with screenwriter Jane Goldman apparently keeping the novel’s original ending, we already feel seduced by the imagery.

On the Rocks

October 2 in the UK (October 23 in the U.S.)

Sofia Coppola and Bill Murray work together again. For the first time since their luminous Lost in Translation (if you ignore the ill-considered A Very Murray Christmas), the director and star are collaborating on this visibly intimate tale. It’s about an adult daughter (Rashida Jones) and her famous father (Murray) spending a weekend in New York City on an adventure after years of estrangement.

Read more

Movies

10 Best Alfred Hitchcock Movies

By Michael Leader

Movies

8 Essential Gothic Horror Movies

By David Crow and 1 other

The film, which also stars Marlon Wayans, premiered to a largely warm reception at the New York Film Festival and is already being written about as a spiritual successor to their original collaboration. Once more a woman in the midst of an existential crisis is aided by Murray between glasses of scotch. Who doesn’t want to pull up a seat and order another round?

Over the Moon

October 23

You probably don’t know Glen Keane’s name but you should. The longtime Walt Disney Animation Studios animator oversaw the design and animation of Ariel in The Little Mermaid, Beast in Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin in Aladdin, and Rapunzel in Tangled. With Over the Moon, he steps away from the Mouse and toward Netflix as a first-time co-director, alongside John Kahrs (an animator on Tangled and Frozen).

The trailer for the film is like a Georges Méliès fever dream from  as a little girl named Fei Fei (Cathy Ang) builds a rocket ship to take her to the moon. But once there, Fei Fei and friends meet a mythical moon goddess (Hamilton’s Phillipa Soo) who takes them on a candy-colored odyssey through the cosmos.

Synchronic

October 23 (U.S. only)

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Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead are two of the most intriguing new voices in science fiction. If you don’t recognize their names, go watch The Endless right now. One of the strangest and cleverest sci-fi yarns of the last decade, that film is now being followed up by Synchronic, another original tale that stars Anthony Mackie and Jamie Dornan. The specifics of the film remain vague other than it is about two New Orleans paramedics who investigate a series of murders caused by a new, bizarre designer drug. But we already know we can’t wait to watch what horrible side effects come from these poor bastards taking it.

The Craft: Legacy

It cannot be Halloween without at least one more horror movie coming out the week of. Thus enters The Craft: Legacy, Sony Pictures and Blumhouse Productions’ legacy sequel to the original 1996 The Craft. Like its predecessor, this follows an outsider who is the new girl in school (Cailee Spaeny). She may be ostracized by the popular kids, but she befriends fellow students who have alternative tastes… like witchcraft.

The original is a touchstone for millennials and Gen-Xers of a certain age, and this reboot looks to push the story into a more complex understanding of friendship. And if it doesn’t, it’s still a Blumhouse effort so it should have plenty of spooky jumps!

Relic

October 30 (US Only)

Dementia is at the heart of this very eerie chiller where three generations of women convene in an old family home which seems to be rotting from the inside. Robyn Nevin, Emily Mortimer and Bella Heathcote star in a slow build drama which delves into the horror of losing your sense of self, as Nevin’s matriarch goes missing for days and can’t remember what happened while her house is filled with odd notes, black mould and snippets of a life slipping away from her grasp. This is the feature debut of Australian-Japanese director Natalie Erika James and it’s a stylish, chilling and confident first feature with a final act that veers into full blown horror. Out already in the States on VOD it has a UK theatrical release in the UK.

The post Upcoming Movies in October 2020: Theaters, Streaming and VOD appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[thecloserkin]

book review: C.J. Hauser, Family of Origin (2019)

Genre: the most literary of fiction

Is it the main pairing: yes

Is it canon: yes

Is it explicit: kinda

Is it endgame: no

Is it shippable: if you’re into unhealthy ships

Bottom line: i hate literary fiction. ok i don’t hate fiction obviously i just hate when it tries to be too literary?? u feel me fam

Two estranged half-siblings spend a week tying up loose ends on the remote island where their father died (it is unclear if he committed suicide). The “loose ends” are that they had sex once, as teenagers, and now it’s weird. The island is populated by cultists and nut jobs who are convinced it’s the end of days and evolution is going in reverse. I have… many equivocal feelings about this book. On the one hand there are so many lines that just peel me like an orange, lines like “There was nothing more humiliating to Elsa than her own desires” or “Elsa was never surprised when someone killed himself. She was only surprised by her own animal perseverance day after day.” Plus I think this book really gets the dynamic where they’re constantly needling each other and every interaction is doused in fifteen gallons of repressed attraction. I think this is a novel that accomplished everything it set out to do with assurance and aplomb; I’m just fundamentally uninterested in what it’s trying to do. It’s about damaged people who learn to heal but the problem is the healing is much less engaging than the hurting.

Here’s the difference between speculative fiction and literary fiction: SF/F presumes zombies are literal zombies. Instead of assuming the zombies metaphorically represent something abstract, you just take them at face value ok? You spot a time machine or a vampire, you take it at face value and you add additional layers of meaning later. Which puts me in a pickle because Family of Origin is decidedly not a genre book, so what am I supposed to think about Famous Bigshot Biologist Ian, Elsa and Nolan’s dad, and his reasons for relocating to this island? There’s no cell phone service; it is quite literally removed from civilization. When I said nut jobs I mean it’s populated by secessionists, survivalists, doomsday preppers, anti-establishment types of all stripes. And they have some kooky theories about ducks. Which Ian apparently subscribed to. If this was SF/F I would just go along with it because maybe Elsa and Nolan, having arrived on the island, will finish Ian’s life’s work and find this elusive duck and prove Charles Darwin wrong haha??? But it’s fucking literary fiction which means I have to look for SYMBOLISM gahhh kill me now.

C.J. Hauser knows what she’s doing. Her bio says she’s a creative writing instructor and you can see why. It sucks that “what she’s doing” only glancingly aligns with “what I want her to do,” but c’est la vie. I was immediately taken with her choice of island setting (remote islands breed intimacy!) and the familiar configuration of type-A older sister paired with a younger brother who begs for a scrap of notice or attention. From the get-go Elsa’s priority is control. Nolan’s is acceptance. This quote sums it up pretty handily:

The problem was that Nolan wanted answers, and Elsa wasn’t sure what she would do with answers if she found them.

Like, I personally identify more with Nolan than with Elsa, because there’s this sense of learned futility that I find kind of charming in him but everyone finds annoying af in me:

Nolan wished he could return to a time before anyone had any expectations for him.

Elsa, otoh. Here is Elsa thinking about her ex, a relationship she clung to well past the expiration date merely because he loved her more than she loved him back, and she wasn’t willing to give up that bargaining position:

As long as his side of their love had more ballast to it, she felt in control and like he would not leave. Everyone left Elsa, so she had to be sure.

Nolan and Elsa are certified disasters. They’re both so burnt-out, and twisted up inside with shame and guilt and impossible desires, and the island is the ideal backdrop for them to resolve their issues:

There was so much that was not allowed that the island seemed willing to permit. Things underwater. Things offshore.

That night, they made no pretenses about the sleeping bag and slept cupped like shells in their father’s bed.

Jesus Joseph and Mary this woman can write. I’ve even seen lines from this novel quoted in those tumblr compilation poetry posts.

Anyway Elsa and Nolan’s dynamic is they do not get along and they’ve never gotten along. It starts with Elsa’s resentment at being displaced by a new sibling, which was compounded by Elsa’s mom being divorced and replaced by Nolan’s mom. These kids have spent all their lives probing at each other’s weaknesses and I am reminded of a very apt line from a book that has absolutely jack shit to do with incest: “When siblings spar, the true cause is proximity.” This seems to apply to Elsa and Nolan’s situation more potently than most.

Will you just LOOK at this god-tier sparring though:

Nolan touched a drop of rain that hung by her ear, letting it spill onto his fingers. Elsa smacked his hand.

Don’t— Elsa began, but Nolan, dirty water dripping from his fingers, grabbed Elsa around the ankles and shook her, groaning, Graaghh! like some B-movie Swamp Thing from the deep, ready to pull Elsa into the pool. Elsa considered Nolan’s hands around her ankles.

It’s one part goofing off, one part competitive banter, and one part violent sexual tension . Elsa takes meticulous mental inventory of every instance of skin-to-skin contact and I’m like—girl you know it only means something if you let it? Who the hell pays that much attention every time their brother accidentally brushes shoulders with them?!

There was a knot between Elsa’s shoulders that twisted taut when she saw him.

Nolan is shiftless and aimless, doesn’t even have the balls to break up with his girlfriend, his internal monologue is a constant refrain of “Nolan wished there was some more-adult adult whose job this could be.” Child you are TWENTY-EIGHT years old and need to start owning your choices. I think this hypothesis that’s sorta floated in an early Elsa POV is pretty conclusively disproved in the course of the novel:

But people didn’t change. They just ran away from everyone who knew them too well so they could start over and do a better job of obscuring the worst parts of themselves.

Because they do change, both of them change and mend their ways and they become a family again and ok here’s where I have a problem with C.J. Hauser: Her idea is that you have to choose—Nolan is either Elsa’s brother or her lover:

And he understood then that he could have kept Elsa as a sister or slept with her. It was a choice, and what he’d just done was to have given her up.

It seems her whole motivation for seducing him was as a big fuck-you to their father. I’m not saying she was not attracted to him I’m saying her field of vision is dominated by Ian:

Everyone here is insane, Elsa said.

They have their reasons, said Nolan.

They have stories, not reasons.

What if you’re my story? What if the story of why I’m on this island is you?

What’s my story?

Your story is Dad.

Go to sleep.

Tell me a story.

Which is really sweet and I am a fiend for these callbacks that deliberately echo the older sibling interacting with the younger one as a baby, but Ian’s stature is such that he takes over everything?? We find out that he wasn’t that great of a scientist. That he wasn’t a great dad was clear from the start.

So the really interesting thing from a craft perspective is the climax of this book occurs in the middle of it instead of at the end. The only other novel I can think of that does this is Cloud Atlas but that has a very unique structure. The film The Talented Mr. Ripley also kind of does this?

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS

It’s revealed that Elsa isn’t Ian’s biological child. Her mom had an affair and when Ian found out he divorced her and married Nolan’s mom. When Elsa learnt the truth, she took the radical step of sleeping with Nolan to prove a point, I guess? To wit: If she wasn’t Ian’s daughter then it wasn’t actually incest. If Ian was troubled then it must be because she was his daughter:

But you are this kid, her mother said. You’re so totally his kid that you think biology is the only way you can be his kid.

I’ll admit that the “they’re not related” reveal does in this instance actually serve a purpose, unlike in some other books (yup this is a Wasteland callout post). And it ties into the theme of biology, and the stupid elusive ducks that supposedly inhabit this godforsaken island:

”We’re no longer good at adapting to things in the natural world because it’s too hard to tell which parts are real anymore so we don’t know what to adapt to.”

So there you have it. Family of Origin is not a book that spoke to my soul but it is a devastatingly exquisite book, and it has a number of really shippable scenes even if the relationship taken as a whole is not one I was rooting for. Here’s Nolan trying to get laid at college:

He didn’t know what to do because there had only ever been Elsa that one time before and Elsa had known what to do.

And then he has a breakdown so bad that he calls Elsa??? For emotional support??? Even though she’s at least 50% of the reason he’s so broken. When Elsa shows up she says ”I drove over two goddamn hours so you could yell at me in person” lolololol every single line of dialogue is so on-point. Oh oh and Elsa biting his ribs and his neck while they’re lying half-naked in bed is another pearl of a scene.

I saved so many quotes from this book and half of them have nothing to do with incest but they’re SENSATIONAL so I’m going to end this review with an assortment of quotes:

that she was afraid to ask for small things like this because the need in them did not seem big enough to draw attention. That she was afraid her small needs would go unnoticed, and so she made plays at bigger ones instead.

Whatever inner thing guided normal people in their choices … Elsa’s was broken. Nolan had been her first wrong choice, years ago, and as much as she’d have liked to pretend she was different now, that it had been a stupid teenage mistake, there was too much other wrongness that came after. Dozens of dubious choices that all seemed to bloom outward from that first moment.

But no, there was a difference between realizing how wrongly he’d been made and the moment the wrongness actually happened.

Because it wasn’t perfect. Because she couldn’t tell the difference between unconditional and infallible.

Maybe the sooner Elsa stopped trying to hunt down some class of people who had all the answers—adults, scientists, Mars missions, Ian—the sooner she could stop the cycle of trying to win. Could look around and decide what kind of game might actually be worth playing.

[namjoontunes]

Lost and Found, Chapter Eight

BTS Members x Reader

Genre: Fantasy AU, Fluff

Warning: N/A

Word Count: 1.5k (exactly!)

Author’s Notes: Okay so updates here are gonna continue to be pretty messy until I can get to my computer so the links are going to be unavailable until then, but at least i got the read more working! I'm doing my best lmao, hope you enjoy!

AO3

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Prologue || Most Recent

“How do you know when it's done?”

“You just have to wait until it's all brown and actually looks like taco meat.”

“Oh okay. And what about seasoning?”

“That goes in after it's all browned, then you let it cook for a little while longer.”

“Oohhh. So when should I get a job then?”

Jin put down the spoon he was using to stir the meat and gave Y/n a stern look. “We've already been over this, Y/n,” He gently reminded her. “We really don't need you to get a job, and after you told us how people treated you when you tried working in the past, none of us want you to have to expose yourself to all that negativity for no reason.”

“But there would be a reason!” Y/n insisted. “Everyone else has a job, and I want to pull my weight around here.” She had already had this argument with each of the boys at least once, but none of them seemed to take her side. It's not that they were dismissive of her concerns, they tried to give her enough responsibilities to make her feel like she was contributing, but she still never felt like she was doing enough.

“Everyone else having a job just means we have enough money so you don't have to work,” he pointed out. “You help out enough around the house and it's honestly a big relief not worrying about chores when we get home. Plus, I'm teaching you how to cook so that's another thing you can help out with.”

“But-”

“Hey,” Jin interrupted, putting his hand on her shoulder. “You're a member of this family, and if we thought you weren't doing enough, we'd talk to you. Now why don't you go set the table?”

Y/n frowned, seeing that this conversation was getting her nowhere. “Okay…”

He smiled, and gently tussled her hair. “Thank you. Oh, and why don't you get the others after you're done with that.”

Jin sighed inwardly as he watched her walk away and start setting the table. He understood how she felt. After Namjoon, Hobi, and Yoongi saved his life, he felt as if he would never be able to pay them back. Even now he still felt indebted to them, but he'd moved past feeling guilty for accepting their help, and just focused on being a good friend and roommate to them.

Y/n on the other hand seemed to drown in guilt for every tiny favor she received. He wished he could make her understand that it was okay to get help, to rely on people, and that she didn't have to fight for her place here. She had already earned her spot in the family, and they weren't letting her go anytime soon. But he knew that it was difficult for her to trust that safety after everything she had been through. Just the thought of her past made his heart ache. He had only known her for a little over two weeks, but all he wanted to do was take away all the hurt from her past and give her a future where she could be as happy as humanly possible. It's the least she deserved.

“Hello? Earth to Jin?”

Jimin’s voice broke Jin out of his thoughts, and he blinked a few times to focus back on what he was doing. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Yeah man, you're starting to burn the meat,” Jimin pointed out.

Jin swore and quickly moved the pan off the burner, examining it to make sure it wasn't ruined.

Jimin laughed as he watched him pout over his mistake. “I know it's weird having a cute girl in the house for once, but try to keep it together hyung,” he teased.

“That's- I wasn't- shouldn't you be doing something else Jimin? Go help Y/n or something!” Jin scolded, trying to ignore the heat creeping into his face.

“What a way to thank the guy who saved dinner,” Jimin replied, quickly escaping the kitchen with a smirk on his face before Jin could deny anything further.

After dinner (which wasn't even noticeably burnt), everyone changed into their pajamas and piled into the living room with their pillows and blankets for movie night. Jin had bought Namjoon, Jungkook, Jimin, and Y/n cute onesies of a dog, dragon, fox, and cat respectively as a gag-gift. Well, it was a gag-gift until everyone had seen how Y/n's eyes lit up when she saw them. None of them dared say anything about them and risk upsetting her, especially with Jungkook leering at them over her shoulder. Not to mention that once she was wearing hers she looked so cute that it made it all worth it.

And so that was how half of the household ended up dressed as various animals as they settled down for the movie. Y/n was snuggled up between Hobi and Namjoon, with Jungkook draped over the couch right behind her. Jin tried to pretend like he didn't wish he was the one cuddling her.

“So what do you guys wanna watch?” Namjoon asked as he absently clicked through Netflix.

“What about that new horror movie that just came out?” Jungkook suggested.

“And give me nightmares? I thought we agreed to only do horror movies on certain nights when only some of us were here,” Hobi complained.

“We could start watching The Haunting of Hill House, everyone has been talking about how good that one is,” Jimin said.

“Were you not listening to a single thing I just said. “

“No not really.”

“I'm with Hobi,” Jin interrupted, before the two of them could start arguing. “No horror movies or horror series.”

“Well, since this is Y/n's first movie night, why don't we let her decide?” Tae suggested.

“Yeah!” Jungkook agreed. “What's your favorite movie?”

“Well… I dunno… it's kind of silly,” she said, absently messing with the zipper on her onesie.

“No need to be embarrassed, Y/n. I'm sure it's a good movie,” Namjoon reassured, pulling her closer to his side.

“Yeah I mean Hobi's favorite movie is still Finding Nemo,” Yoongi pointed out.

“It's a good movie!” Hobi defended.

“I'm not saying it's not, I'm just saying that it might sound silly to have it as your favorite movie as a 25 year old,” Yoongi replied, rolling his eyes.

“It's a good movie…” Hobi repeated quietly, pouting now.

“Oh! Well I mean if you guys don't mind kids movies, I've always loved Lilo and Stitch,” she admitted.

“You get me, Y/n,” Hobi whispered dramatically, holding her face between his hands. “You get me.”

She giggled and nodded enthusiastically. “Don't worry Hobi, I'm always on your side!”

“What about my side?” Jungkook whined, reaching out to play with her hair.

“Well of course I'm on your side too Kookie!” she declared, face still squished between Hobi's hands.

“What happens if they're on different sides Y/n?” Jimin pointed out.

“Well- I…” Y/n stammered, looking back and forth between the two of them anxiously.

“Oh hey look! The movie's starting!” Namjoon announced loudly.

Y/n gasped and immediately turned her full attention to the TV, bouncing slightly with excitement as the opening credits began.

By the time the movie ended, Yoongi and Jimin were fast asleep, Y/n had cried three separate times, and Jungkook had finished the entire bowl of popcorn by himself.

“I think… I ate too much popcorn…” Jungkook groaned.

"You literally do this to yourself every movie night Jungkook,” Jin pointed out.

“You literally do this to yourself every movie night,” Jungkook grumbled, hugging the empty bowl close to his chest.

“What now?” Y/n asked, glancing over at Jimin passed out in the recliner. “Do you guys usually just sleep out here or go back to your rooms?”

“It depends,” Namjoon answered. “Usually Yoongi sleeps out here since none of us are brave enough to wake him, but for the rest of us it's just based on who's already fallen asleep and who prefers to sleep in their bed.”

“I for one am already pretty comfy,” Hobi said, nuzzling into Y/n's hair.

She hummed contentedly in response, leaning into Hobi's embrace. “I think I'll stay out here too then! If only to enjoy the company,” she giggled.

“Well, I have a nice soft mattress calling my name, so I'll see you guys in the morning,” Jin announced, stretching as he stood from the ground.

“Goodnight then Jinnie! I hope you sleep well!” Y/n said, followed by a chorus of good-nights from the boys still awake.

“Goodnight, Y/n,” Jin smiled fondly, reaching down to pat her head. “Goodnight guys!”

As Jin walked down the hallway, Y/n snuggled down between Hobi and Namjoon, content smile on her face.    

“Goodnight everyone,” she murmured sleepily. “I love you.”

She drifted off to sleep to the sound of their mumbled replies, feeling safe at last, and surrounded by love.

[the-light-followed]

THE COLOUR OF MAGIC (1983) [DISC. #1; RINCEWIND #1]

Rating: 5/10

Standalone Okay: Yes

Read First: NO.

Discworld Books Masterpost: [x] 

* * * * * * * * * *

Ask any Discworld fan, and we’ll all pretty much universally agree that The Colour of Magic isn’t the pinnacle of the Discworld experience.  Nobody really recommends that new readers should start here, even if it is the first book in the series chronologically.  I’m pretty much a writing-order-equals-reading-order purist, for reasons best discussed elsewhere, and even I would absolutely never start people off with this one.  (I tend to go for Going Postal or Wee Free Men—again, for reasons best discussed elsewhere.)

It’s not Pratchett’s best work.  It’s not even his tenth best work.  If I have to rate it (and I do, because that’s kind of the point, here), compared to the rest of Discworld, it’s down at the bottom of my list.

It’s pretty damn good, though, for what it is.

For me, it’s a genuine joy to read the early Rincewind books. This is because, in my head at least, it makes total sense that everything involved in them is baffling and strange when compared to the settled absurdism you get from other Discworld novels.  Further into the series, it all feels a lot more comfortable and fleshed-out: yes, the things Pratchett writes about are often genuinely ridiculous, but usually the setting explains those things and packages them up neatly enough to make them acceptable. And the characters treat everything as perfectly normal, business as usual, so the reader is gently encouraged to do the same.  

Thinking about it, I would argue that a lot of the Discworld shenanigans aren’t all that different from a lot of the real-world nonsense that we all just accept as totally normal.  Discworld nonsense and our nonsense just come from different places. For us, it’s stuff like the fact that some cops still ride horses for absolutely no good reason, or that tipping is part of a server’s pay in an American restaurant, or that water is usually free but we all let movie theaters charge us like $5 for a bottle, and what’s that even about?  In the Discworld, the thieves and assassins have unionized, and if you slip up, it’s entirely possible to just fall right off the edge of the world.  It’s weird, and it’s not exactly fine, but it’s not about to kill us right this second, so we all just let it happen. We accept it.

This is not at all the case for our unwilling protagonist, the original Discworld hero-who-is-absolutely-not-a-hero, Rincewind. He’s scared of everything.  He is a genuine, bona fide coward.  Absolutely everything that happens leaves him baffled, terrified, and/or dismayed, and to tell the truth I unconditionally respect all of this about him, because most of the absolute bullshit nonsense going down around him is baffling, terrifying, and/or simply Not Good, and he and the reader have to learn to live with that together.

Over the course of this one novel, failed-wizard-slash-reluctant-guide Rincewind is:

Involved in burning down large parts of the city of Ankh-Morpork, because he left his friend unsupervised and the city really wasn’t ready for the invention of ‘insurance’ without the accompanying understanding of ‘insurance fraud.’

Chased, threatened, and variously menaced by a sentient suitcase known as the Luggage, which canonically has huge teeth, a mahogany tongue, hundreds of little legs, and an insatiable hunger for the flesh of its owner’s enemies.  Also, it does your laundry if you leave it inside. Isn’t that nice?

Forced into a duel by dragon riders, where he must fight upside-down while wearing boots that basically Velcro-attach their wearers to the ceiling.

Captured, imprisoned, and scheduled to be sacrificed to the anthropomorphic personification of Fate in exchange for success in a scientific endeavor—specifically, checking the biological sex of the giant turtle carrying the Discworld on its back through the universe.

Dropped over the Rimfall, the waterfall at the edge of the Disc, which in Roundworld terminology is something like tripping and falling off the surface of the Earth and flying into the abyss of space.

Repeatedly almost forced to speak one of the Eight Great Spells that created the universe, which will do…something, possibly catastrophic, when spoken.  No one knows exactly what it does.  Rincewind certainly doesn’t.  This spell attached itself parasitically to his brain years ago, and, in the meantime, has shoved all the other wizard-y type things he could have been doing right on out of there.

So, basically, he’s going through a lot.  And this list isn’t everything, just the bits I pulled out by opening my book at random spots and reading a couple of lines.  It kind of makes sense, in my opinion, that things feel a little topsy-turvy.  Shit’s wild.

On top of that, I’d also argue that Pratchett is playing pretty fast and loose with plot and story structure in this book.  It can feel sloppy at times, more like a bunch of little vignettes that have been strung together than a single, coherent storyline. The plot loosely wobbles along the tightrope strung between Rincewind’s uncanny luck, good and bad, and cheerfully-blockheaded-tourist Twoflower’s unstoppable ability to trample through the middle of every single situation that could possibly try to kill him.  Very bad things happen, but somehow, they miraculously fail to die, and so Rincewind is still stuck shepherding Twoflower along through the next incident of someone or something trying to brutally murder them both.  There’s no real greater plot or driving need, just Twoflower with his little camera, wanting to take pictures of every beautiful and dangerous part of the Disc.

If a rabid wolf the size of a bus came up and tried to eat him, Twoflower would take pictures of the inside of its mouth and say, “Oh, wow, I’ve never seen teeth that big before!  Rincewind, won’t you take a picture of me with this magnificent beast?”  And Rincewind wouldn’t answer, because he’d be half a mile away already and still moving fast, with nothing but a cartoon cloud of dust left behind to mark where he’d been.

[Here’s the boys, Rincewind and Twoflower, just doing their best.  From the BBC two-part miniseries called The Colour of Magic, which actually spans the plot of both The Colour of Magic and The Light Fantastic. Yes, that is Samwise Gamgee playing Twoflower, and yes, I did get distracted by that a lot while watching. Twoflower has all of Sam’s earnest faith and absolutely none of his common sense.]

Fun!

The whole thing actually is pretty fun, though.  It’s witty.  It’s got something to say, even if that something is just “hey, aren’t all these identical High Fantasy Adventure books all overdramatic and ridiculous in the exact same ways?”  Pratchett is writing this book as one massive joke he’s telling about the genre, the tropes, and the archetypes, and he does a pretty decent job even by today’s cultural standards, let alone the standards of 1983.  Chances are that any point he’s making here in The Colour of Magic is something he’s going to make again, better, in a later book, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have the seeds of something here.

As a main example, I’ll point out Liessa Dragonlady, who has arguably the biggest role in one of the major conflicts of this book.  Liessa is initially presented as the quintessential High Fantasy barbarian warrior lady, which would typically be more about sex appeal than any actual skill—except that Liessa is actually highly intelligent, 110% more talented and qualified as a leader and warrior than her brothers or literally anyone on the protagonists’ team, and is aware the whole time that she’s struggling against the patriarchy and her society (and the tropes) in trying to take what should be her rightful place as leader of the Wyrmberg.  The sexism exists in the Discworld, not in the writing.

[Liessa from the BBC’s The Colour of Magic, wearing—no joke—a crop top armor chest piece.  Actually, I think it’s technically a bikini, based on the bottom half of the armor.  Or should I say the lack thereof?  Classic.]

Liessa is a decent example of Pratchett’s ability to look at the tropes and the reader’s expectations, and then go and take his writing somewhere else.  But even so, I’d absolutely point to Monstrous Regiment or even Equal Rites first for anyone wanting to read a really solid exploration of femininity and what it means to be a woman in a traditionally ‘masculine’ field.  Or I’d suggest just about any book starring the senior witches or Tiffany Aching for examples of well-rounded female characters that demand respect in a world specifically designed to not want to give it to them.

But that’s just one example.  The Colour of Magic has the seeds of quite a few really good ideas that Pratchett will explore in more depth later on.

I think those seeds are part of what makes The Colour of Magic worth a read at some point, even if it’s never going to be anyone’s favorite Discworld book.  I love seeing the foundations of Future-Discworld, that settled absurdism I was talking about earlier, in this.  We’ve got our proto-Vetinari, long before he had a name, being generically threatening and Machiavellian and as close to ‘cackling evil overlord’ as it’s possible to get without actually cackling, or at least without some sort of thunderstorm rumbling in the background.  Ankh-Morpork is a wonderfully scum-filled cesspit of depravity and immorality.  There’s no effective City Watch to kick things into a rickety and leaking approximation of ship-shape, so it’s probably a good thing that the river Ankh is so thick with pollution that you don’t need a ship to cross it—you can just walk.

There’s even some early conceptualization of Pratchett’s special brand of everyday magic, the kind that will show up over and over again in the Discworld: the idea that even with a reality full of gods and wizards and hyper-powerful, monstrous things, there’s still a lot of power in everyday, ordinary people.

Pratchett is all about belief.  He preaches the importance of the self, in terms of making reality into the place we think it should be.  In Pratchett’s world, the things we believe in matter, and not just in a philosophical sense.  Belief is a real, tangible form of magic—in this book, specifically, Twoflower manages to summon an entire dragon out of nothing, just because he believes strongly enough that dragons should exist the way he’s always dreamed them to be.  In later books, sheer belief and willpower are shown to create and fuel gods and spirits, to contain quasi-demonic entities of vengeance and darkness, and to form the backbone of every other more ‘traditional’ type of magic.  

It’s nice to see the early forms of it here.  I’m not going to get too into it, because it’s going to show up a lot in later books in more significant ways (I’m thinking Hogfather, Small Gods, and even Pyramids) and I don’t want to beat that horse to death just yet, but it’s one of the foundation stones of the Discworld.  It’s somehow comforting to know that it’s been here since the very beginning.

It’s also funny as hell to see the stuff that Pratchett will eventually change, soften, or drop entirely as he settles into the way the Discworld will work.  Did you know there are eight seasons on the Discworld?  And that in my 1985 edition of the book, the footnote where he explains these eight seasons takes up the bottom half of two entire pages?

That’s one single footnote there.  The first ever footnote, even, and it’s almost a full page long and utterly ridiculous.  It’s incredible, and I love it a lot.  I also love that almost none of the details here are ever mentioned again, and if they are, it’s never in a significant or memorable way—and Pratchett certainly doesn’t waste a whole page on any of them ever again.  Well, except for Hogswatch, because Pratchett knows when he’s got a real winner.  It might have taken him thirteen years, but he wrote a whole damn book about it, and we all can agree that Hogfather is a joy and a delight.

Not so much “Autumn Prime,” “Crueltide,” “Winter Secundus,” and blah blah blah etcetera whatever.  I’m not ashamed to admit that I forgot them while I was literally still in the middle of reading them.  And what the hell is “Reforgule of Krull”?  No clue. It’s total nonsense, never seen again, and I think we can all agree we are fine with this.  

On second thought, I think Pratchett does end up using Hubward and Rimward pretty regularly as directions.  But without this info-dump, when reading other books, I think that even I figured out how “Hubward” and “Rimward” work on a flat plate of a world with a Hub in the center and a Rim along the outside.  And I am so bad with maps and directions that I literally get confused trying to give people directions to the parking lot outside my work.

I’m no good at wrapping these things up, so I’m ending this post the same way that Pratchett ends the book: with Rincewind abruptly falling off the edge of the Disc.

[Originally, I was going to go hunt down some fanart or something, but I don’t have permission to use any of that, so instead you get my doodles off the scrap paper I steal from work.  Luckily for everyone, I’m an artistic genius.  The dot representing Rincewind obviously isn’t to scale, since one human person would be much smaller than that, but if it represents the size of his body and the size of his scream, then it’s basically accurate.]

* * * * * * * * * *

Side Notes:

Rincewind’s insane luck, good and bad, is because he’s a favorite of the goddess referred to only as ‘the Lady,’ since invoking her true name means she has to leave.  She’s the anthropomorphic personification of Luck itself, and she’s the reason Rincewind always survives whatever terrible situation he finds himself in—but also the reason he’s stuck in that situation in the first place.  

Everything that goes wrong, and the dramatic escape that inevitably follows, is because the Lady likes to play dice games with Fate, using normal people on the Disc as game pieces.  

Rincewind, it turns out, is the human equivalent of her favorite Monopoly token. (The iron, maybe?  It has the same sort of Looney Tunes cartoon-anvil vibe as Rincewind’s whole, well, everything.)

Death as a character makes his first appearance in The Colour of Magic.  However, here it’s implied he actually is involved somehow in the killing process, and his role can be filled in by apparently random low-level demons on their days off, whereas later books make it clear he just collects and shepherds the dead onward, and actually the issue of his replacement is a big deal, cosmically speaking.  

Pratchett sort of avoids this issue by claiming that Rincewind’s life timer is so complicated and convoluted (because of all the weird accidents and magical incidents) that Death just can’t tell when he’s actually supposed to die.  

I guess Death shows up every time it looks like Rincewind might kick the bucket, just in case?  And in that case, all the threatening stuff he says to Rincewind in these early books must be because he’s so irritated that he has to keep coming out for no reason, only to find that Rincewind has, once again, managed to survive.  And maybe the low-level demon showing up instead was just, uh, Death trying to scare him into actually beefing it, this time…?

Although the Unseen University Librarian exists and is human for the entirety of this book and only this book, he does not appear at any point.  He’s briefly referenced—or, at least, a librarian is referenced, but this is referring back when Rincewind was young and read the grimoire that left one of the Eight Great Spells parasitically attached to his mind.  There’s no guarantee it’s the same librarian, and based on the turnover (read: murder) rate of University wizards at the time, I don’t think it’s likely that anyone managed to hold onto their job that long.  On Google, I did find a thing where someone cut together some shots of him in human form from The Colour of Magic BBC show, so that’s pretty fun:

Once he’s changed into an orangutan in The Light Fantastic, he’s described as still looking a bit like the human Librarian: with that beard and hair combo, I think they nailed it.

* * * * * * * * * *

Favorite Quotes:

“Inn-sewer-ants-polly-sea.”

“She was the Goddess Who Must Not Be Named; those who sought her never found her, yet she was known to come to the aid of those in greatest need. And, then again, sometimes she didn’t. She was like that.”

“It was all very well going on about pure logic and how the universe was ruled by logic and the harmony of numbers, but the plain fact of the matter was that the Disc was manifestly traversing space on the back of a giant turtle and the gods had a habit of going round to atheists’ houses and smashing their windows.”

“Some pirates achieved immortality by great deeds of cruelty or derring-do. Some achieved immortality by amassing great wealth. But the captain had long ago decided that he would, on the whole, prefer to achieve immortality by not dying.”

“‘I’m sure you won’t dream of trying to escape from your obligations by fleeing the city…’ ‘I assure you the thought never even crossed my mind, lord.’  ‘Indeed? Then if I were you I’d sue my face for slander.’”

“It was octarine, the colour of magic. It was alive and glowing and vibrant and it was the undisputed pigment of the imagination, because wherever it appeared it was a sign that mere matter was a servant of the powers of the magical mind. It was enchantment itself.  But Rincewind always thought it looked a sort of greenish-purple.”

[dceshims-blog]

↳ damn, is that MOON DAESHIM ? the IM CHANGKYUN lookalike gotten quite the reputation around here. the 23 year old RAPPER / PRODUCER has been in london for ONE year now. people say they are only HEDONISTIC + SELF DESTRUCTIVE, but they’re actually CHARMING + ADVENTUROUS once you get to know them. don’t get too comfortable, though, no one knows HIS AGENCY / COMPANY PAID TO HAVE SOMETHING HE DID HIDDEN FROM THE WORLD.

 HIYA  HEY  HELLO,  i'm  gem,  i'm  21+,  i  go  by  she  her  pronouns  &  live  in  the  cst  !  i'm  also  a  hot  mess  who  likes  hurting  my  characters  ...  hence  the  reason  that  dae's  life  is  as  big  of  a  mess  as  it  is.  he's  a  new  character,  which  means  not  everything  is  fleshed  out  like  i  would  like  it  to  be  but  you  can  find  his  basic  information,  stats,  bullet  point  bio,  personality  &  a  few  wanted  connections  ideas  under  the  cut  !  

tw:  mentions  of  alcohol  abuse,  drug  abuse,  car  accidents,  hit  and  run  scenario,  death  &  injuries  !

                                         basic  information.

full  name:  moon  daeshim. nickname(s):  moon,  dae,  shimmy,  daedae.  (  the  last  one  is  use  by  his  mother  &  mother  ONLY  ) age:  twenty-three. date  of  birth:  tbd. birthplace:  daegu,  south  korea. gender:  cismale. pronouns:  he  /  him  /  his. orientation:  pansexual. occupation:  rapper,  producer,  composer. language(s)  spoken:  korean,  english,  japanese,  chinese,  thai,  french  &  spanish.

                                    physical  appearance.

faceclaim:  im  changkyun  (  i.m  )  of  monsta  x. hair  color:  changes  pretty  frequently,  currently  black. eye  color:  brown. height:  6  ’  0  ". weight:  175. build:  athletic. tattoos:  quite  a  few,  far  to  many  to  name  ...  mostly  black  &  grey. piercings:  7  in  his  left  ear,  8  in  his  right,  tongue  piercing,  eyebrow  piercing  on  his  left  brow  &  scars  from  old  snake  bites  under  his  bottom  lip.

                                                    health.

physical  ailments:  alcohol  abuse,  drug  abuse. neurological  conditions:  n/a. allergies:  seasonal  ailments. sleeping  habits:  3-4  hours,  restless,  tosses  &  turns. eating  habits:  lives  of  of  fast  food  &  take  out  usually,  sometimes  goes  to  'fancier'  places. exercise  habits:  has  personal  trainers  who  he  works  out  with  three  times  a  week. body  temperature:  hot  natured. addictions:  alcohol,  tobacco,  drugs,  sex. drug  use:  frequent. alcohol  use:  frequent.

                                       personality. (  pt  1.  )

label:  tbd.

positive  traits:  charming  &  adventurous. negative  traits:  hedonistic  &  self-destructive. fears:  tbd. hobbies:  cooking,  video  games,  shopping,  board  games,  swimming,  poker,  going  to  the  movies,  traveling,  exercising,  eating  out. habits:  jiggles  leg  up  &  down,  taps  feet  on  occasion,  runs  fingers  through  hair  often,  constantly  glances  at  his  watch,  rolls  his  eyes,  cracks  knuckles  /  bones,  shifts  in  his  seat  when  nervous  /  irritated,  clenches  jaw,  gestures  when  speaking,  props  feet  up  on  desks  /  tables,  constantly  checks  his  phone. quirks:  wears  a  lot  of  jewelry,  good  with  technology,  paces  back  &  forth  when  in  deep  thought  or  when  nervous,  mumbles  to  himself  on  occasion,  constantly  on  social  media,  bites  &  chews  on  lips,  night  owl,  addicted  to  texting,  can  play  musical  instruments,  dyes  his  hair  a  different  color  constantly,  addicted  to  caffeinated  drinks,  always  has  to  have  the  'best’  of  everything  he  owns,  has  to  have  a  fan  on  to  sleep,  chews  ice  cubes.

                                              favorites.

season:  fall,  winter. color(s):  matte  black,  chrome,  army  green,  gold  &  silver. music:  will  listen  to  anything  as  long  as  he  likes  it,  doesn’t  matter  what genre. movies:  watches  pretty  much  everything,  mostly  enjoys  suspense,  action  &  comedy. sport(s):  doesn’t  really  care  for  sports,  watches  it  if  it's  on  at  bars. beverage(s):  anything  and  everything,  other  than  sparkling  water. food:  anything  from  luxurious  5  star  meals  to  instant  ramen  cooked  at  home. animal:  dogs.

                                                  family.

father: tbd. mother: tbd. sibling(s):  n/a. children:  n/a. pet(s):  tbd. family’s  financial  status:  upper  class.

                                                  extras.

zodiac sign:  tbd. mbti:  entp-a.  (  the  debater.  ) enneagram:  type  eight. (  the  challenger.  ) temperament:  sanguine. hogwarts  house:  slytherin. moral  alignment:  tbd. primary  vice:  tbd. primary  virtue:  tbd. element:  fire.

                                             biography.

born  in  daegu,  south  korea  to  two  extremely  wealthy  parents.

his  father  was  a  very  well  known  idol,  his  mother  a  fashion  designer.

meaning  that  dae  was  in  the  spotlight  since  BIRTH,  he's  never  known  anything  other  than  fame  &  fortune.

that  of  course,  went  to  his  head  from  a  very,  very  young  age  &  it  caused  this  sort  of  god  complex  in  him.

his  nannies  HATED  having  to  work  for  his  parents  &  take  care  of  him  because  he  made  their  lives  a  living  hell  basically.  not  because  he  was  MEAN  or  something  like  that  but  because  he  was  just  picky  &  was  used  to  getting  what  he  wanted.

which  did  cause  him  to  be  bratty  &  he  did  have  the  tendency  to  throw  fits  when  he  didn't  get  what  he  wanted,  always  going  to  his  parents  whenever  the  nannies  wouldn't  give  dae  what  he  wanted  &  they'd  end  up  either  quitting  or  getting  fired.

things  didn't  really  change  through  the  years,  to  be  honest.  he  got  less  'whiny'  about  things,  but  was  still  use  to  just  asking  for  whatever  he  wanted  &  getting  it  as  soon  as  humanly  possible.

he  was  fourteen  when  he  first  started  showing  interest  in  music,  though  he  didn't  follow  in  his  father's  footsteps  by  becoming  a  trainee.  he  was  more  into  producing  &  composing  than  anything.

it  wasn't  until  a  few  years  later  that  he  started  rapping  to  the  music  he  was  composing  in  order  to  try  &  get  them  bought  by  companies.

people  thought  that  he  was  actually  wanting  to  be  a  rapper  instead  of  just  a  producer  /  composer,  so  when  the  companies  kept  asking  him  if  he  was  interested  in  being  a  rapper,  he  figured  why  not.

that  was  the  start  of  his  career,  his  first  mini-album  skyrocketed  his  name  further  into  fame,  quickly  becoming  the  most  talked  about  rookie  in  the  business.

things  only  got  better  from  there,  each  album  he  dropped  debuted  at  the  top  of  charts,  keeping  his  name  in  the  spotlight  CONSTANTLY.

after  years  of  that,  things  started  getting  to  him  ...  the  stress  of  always  having  to  drop  something  new  and  fresh  caused  daeshim  to  start  to  spiral,  drinking  &  doing  drugs  almost  every  night  as  a  way  to  get  away  from  all  of  it  even  if  it  was  just  for  a  few  hours.

this  started  the  rumor  mill  to  begin,  articles  of  his  partying  ways,  the  clubbing  &  everything  like  that  starting  to  pile  up  one  after  the  next.  as  well  as  the  rumors  and  scandals  of  his  nudes  being  leaked  &  him  taking  home  as  many  people  he  wanted  to  because  he  truly  just  didn't  care  about  his  image  or  anything  like  that.

it  was  his  twentith  birthday  that  would  change  EVERYTHING  for  dae.  he'd  decided  to  go  out,  celebrate  by  drinking  &  going  wild  for  the  night  ...  stupidly  driving  home  from  the  club  that  night.

mid-way  home  he  happened  to  get  into  a  crash,  car  getting  totaled  as  well  as  a clipping  a  few  passer-bys ...  causing  one  to  pass  away  &  the  other  to  get  severely  injured  as  well  as  dae  getting  a  laundry  list  of  injuries  as  well.

he  was  okay  enough  to  walk  away  from  the  incident,  though  not  without  some  problems  of  his  own...  walking  back  to  his  agent's  home  as  it  was  the  closest  thing  he  could  get  to.

he  wasn't  expecting  his  agent  to  instantly  try  and  cover  everything  up,  calling  doctors  to  come  visit  daeshim  at  his  home,  sending  people  out  to  clean  up  the  scene  of  the  accident  &  make  sure  that  the  people  who  were  witnesses  or  involved  were  paid  off  to  keep  their  mouth  shut.

that  guilt  weighed  on  him  pretty  instantly,  his  injuries  being  hidden  from  the  media  while  they  healed  and  the  other  people  involved  continued  to  be  paid  off  so  that  no  one  knew  what  had  happened.

he  dealt  with  all  of  that  for  a  few  years  but  after  a  while,  he  couldn't  do  it  anymore.  deciding  to  publicly  declare  he'd  be  taking  a  break  from  making  music,  producing  &  composing...  taking  time  out  for  himself  &  his  own  mental  health  &  wellbeing.

it  was  only  a  week  after  that  when  dae  found  himself  in  london,  hoping  to  be  able  to  start  over  the  best  as  he  could.

                                    personality. ( pt 2. )

literally  the  Worst.

is  a  rich  bitch  and  makes  sure  EVERYONE  knows  that  even  if  he  doesn’t  speak  it… comes  in  the  form  of  his  clothing,  sports  cars,  accessories… literally  everything.

has  kinda  made  a  name  for  himself  in  the  london  that  isn't  to  far  off  from  what  the  media  constantly  talked  about  and  that's  him  being  a  Party  Animal.  goes  to  clubs  /  bars  every  weekend  (  sometimes  more  frequently  depending  on  his  mood.  )  as  well  as  a  bit  of  a  'player’.

extremely  hedonistic  and  a  bit  of  a  shopaholic.  is  always  seen  with  the  latest  &  greatest  makes  and  models  of  things.  always  has  designer  clothes  on.  always  is  out  shopping  for  something  new  at  least  three  times  a  week,  sometimes  more.

can  be  pretty  cocky  at  times,  he  knows  how  he  looks,  he  knows  how  much  money  he  has  and  sometimes  he  lets  that  go  to  his  head  &  his  ego.  though  he  TRIES  not  to  be  like ��that  just  because  he  honestly  can’t  stand  when  other  people  boast  about  their  wealth  or  looks  on  a  daily  basis.

is  actually  really  relaxed  when  it  comes  down  to  it,  as  much  as  he  loves  to  party…  there’s  a  part  of  him  that  just  loves  lounging  at  home  watching  movies  just  as  much.  but  usually  refuses  to  do  so  alone,  will  invite  someone  to  come  over  just  so  he  doesn’t  have  to  be  in  his  (  cough…. giant …  cough  )  house  alone.

tends  to  hate  being  told  what  to  do.  comes  from  having  to  conform  to  what  his  agent  /  company  wanted  him  to  do  &  say  for  as  many  years  as  he  did  so  now  he’d  rather  just  do  what  he  wants,  when  he  wants  to  do  it  and  because  of  that  he  can  be  a  little  bit  selfish  sometimes.

he  wants  to  be  able  to  LIVE  and  have  fun,  do  what  he  wants  on  his  own  terms  and  go  from  there.

genuinely  not  a  bad  person,  though  his  ego  &  cockiness  sometimes  tend  to  cover  that  side  of  him  up. as  well  as  the  grief  &  guilt  of  what  he’s  done  in  the  past  causing  him  to  be  extremely  guarded.

loves  to  SPOIL  the  people  he  knows,  if  he  goes  out  shopping,  he’s  probably  buying  something  for  his  friends  in  the  process.  

is  the  type  of  person  that  just  loves  to  give  people  shit  but  does  so  in  a  loving  &  caring  way.  aka  will  roast  you  but  then  offer  to  take  you  to  dinner  or  something  like  that.

he’s …  trying.  not  trying  his  BEST,  sure.  but  he  is  still  trying  and  ig  that  counts  for  something,  right  ?

                                                plot ideas.

flirtationship.  he  absolutely  LOVES  to  flirt  his  ass  off…  with  whoever  he  can  because why  the  hell  not  ?

enemies.  whatever  the  reason  might  be,  they  just  don’t  get  along.  maybe  they  just  bicker  back  and  forth  or  perhaps  they  actually  just  despise  each  other  in  general.

hate  sex.  lsn… i’m  a  sucker  for  this  and  there’s  a  lot  of  reasons  someone  could  dislike  or  hate  dae  &  well  he  also  like  sex  so  why  not  pair  the  two  things  ?

best  friends.  he’s  never  really  had  anyone  he  fully  thought  he  could  rely  on  or  lean  on,  so  someone  he  met  here  who  he  bonded  with  instantly  would  be  gREAT.

will  add  more  as  i  think  of  them  !

[mostlymovieswithmax]

1. Logan (2017)

Spoiler warning? Probably.

At the time, this was one of those ‘once in a blue moon’ movies. It took a character we’d seen portrayed by the same actor for 17 years over a period of eight movies and gave us something we never knew we needed. James Mangold flipped the formula on us and delivered a film that didn’t need to promote a franchise or pander to a whole host of demographics so that they could get as many people in the cinema as possible. Those who worked on it looked at the people who had followed the X-Men movies, even those who were just kids when the first movie came out at the start of the millennium, and decided to treat the audience with dignity and respect, knowing at the very least, those who had grown up watching Hugh Jackman in this role from the beginning would be old enough to view a movie like this. They gave this iteration of the character a proper send-off before he was left to stagnate and fade. It was something that hadn’t really been done in the superhero genre before and I would argue, hasn’t been done since. They gave us Logan.

How do I explain that this is my favourite movie of all time? Yes it is well-made. Yes, it ticks a lot of the technical boxes I look for in movies. It is what it is because it stems from a franchise of films based on comic book superheroes. Without the highs of movies like X-Men: Days Of Future Past, or lows of movies like X-Men Origins: Wolverine (which I still kind of find fun to watch), would Logan exist today? Or, if the answer is yes, how different would it be if we took even one of those movies away? Everything happened in the order and time it did and as a result, this movie came into being. I doubt the connection I have to Logan would be as strong or even have developed in the first place if it didn’t have those previous entries to continue the character from. I remember going to see Logan in the cinema when it was released and at the time, I didn’t think all that much of it. Characters that I had grown to love over the years from when I was a child died in front of me and when they died, they died for good. No resurrections this time. And I knew that. But I sat, stone-faced, unmoved by what I was seeing and now, two years on from watching it initially and having seen it multiple times since, I have to ask myself… why? My most recent viewing had me bawling like a baby. Why was my earliest reaction to my now favourite movie so mild? When you think of grand climaxes to beloved characters, especially superheroes, it’s not uncommon to think a proper send-off is something akin to Avengers: Endgame. I’ve seen Wolverine built up over 17 years. He fought a samurai robot in The Wolverine; he went up against the Dark Phoenix in The Last Stand and had the skin torn away from his body repeatedly in an attempt to keep her from destroying everything; he stopped an apocalyptic extermination of mutants in Days Of Future Past. So logically, doesn’t he deserve a goodbye that measures up to those standards we’ve applied to him over the years? To put him in a situation that requires him to save the world? Is this the ending I wanted when I saw the movie for the first time? Logan is small-scale. It deals with a situation on an intrinsically human level. The only goal is to protect a child and get away from the bad guys, who serve as a last middle finger to a character who has gone through so much shit and who at this point, at almost 200 years old in the year 2029, just wants to buy a boat and live out the rest of his days in peace with his oldest and only remaining friend. Logan understands the scale it conveys and uses that to its advantage, grounding the character and the story as a whole in order to give it the emotional weight and resonance it needs to serve as not just a decent end for Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine, but a notable, spectacular end for an iconic character in popular culture.

How original Logan is in terms of the story it tells and how it goes about certain elements is debatable, although I’m not entirely of the opinion that it’s even trying to be so unheard of in every department. Yes, I’ve never seen anything like this before in the confines of an existing character who, up until now has only been seen to operate under the restriction of what is appropriate to a viewer aged 12 or above. I’ve never seen this kind of story told in as bleak a fashion when it comes to comic book superhero movies. But no, this is not the first and only movie to tackle the themes it’s going for or the type of story it tells. We’ve all seen road trip movies; there are countless tragic hero stories and antagonists set on building armies. How many times have we seen a movie where the villain is just an evil version of the hero? This isn’t trying to reinvent the wheel. Juxtaposing Logan (aka James Howlett/aka Wolverine) with X-24, a younger, stronger version of himself was a brilliant way to go. It speaks subconsciously to the characters’ fears and what he sees himself as. He is his own demon. This film takes a lot of inspiration from and pays homage to the type of stories that are told in old Westerns, specifically the 1953 film ‘Shane’, where a gunslinger hopes to settle down with a family but is forced into a battle between two separate parties. Mangold goes as far as to literally show a scene from Shane in Logan to highlight this and say that it’s not a wholly new concept for a movie, but wears its inspirations on its sleeve and even acts as a tribute.

The acting is superb, as if anyone needed to be reassured. Hugh Jackman gives maybe the best performance of his career in this. He gives it his all, as someone who clearly cares a lot about the character of Logan/Wolverine and manages to portray him in a way I never knew I needed. Patrick Stewart takes his iconic Professor X (someone we’ve known on the big screen just as long as Wolverine), who’s always been such a wise and collected authority figure, and twists him into this heart-breakingly haunted ghost of his former self, dipping in and out of sanity as he battles with the very human disease of dementia. Dafne Keen as Laura is exactly the fire this film needed to elevate itself past being just above average. A girl of few words but a presence that is felt so strongly. For a first feature and from someone so young, I’m amazed at how spot on the casting for this character was.

Violent and visceral; I now feel every emotional beat like a punch to the gut. The sound and cinematography are so well done and make for some heavy scenes that are meant to establish characters or make the audience feel horrible and upset. The first scene itself lets us know exactly where Logan is at in life and it’s genuinely one of the many highlights. The writing is pitch perfect; it is everything that I want and more and, if I’m in the right mood, has no problem reducing me to tears. The ever-memorable screenplay gives these characters a lot more depth than they had previously by honing in on what is explored in the previous movies. We always knew Logan was a pretty tragic character but never before have we seen the extent of how haunted he is. The sadness of it all comes from realising he has constantly been dealt a bad hand for nearly two centuries and is seldom given much of a break. Every time I revisit Logan I find something else to love about it. Possibly my one and only gripe is that the score could be better and really, as scores go, it’s still decent. With all the blood and action and misery and sorrow and blood (again) that is exhibited, I hang on to the small glimmer of hope that takes this movie to the end, in what is a heartbreaking finish but also an immensely satisfying one. I’m not sure I’ll ever tire of this. I can’t see myself one day feeling like I no longer get enough out of it to warrant watching it again. Logan brings a magnificent conclusion to a character I’ve followed for so long and I’m so thankful that Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine wasn’t left to collect dust until retiring in a most lacklustre fashion. This is everything I love about film.