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Boys Planet Episode 2, Recap Part 1

In this watch-along-if-you-want-to recap, I’ll cover Episode 2 of the popular MNET show, complete with my usual screen grabs, gifs, helpful information, and snark. Let’s get to it!

A few quick notes -- ages given are international ages; ranks given are as of the end of ep 1/ beginning of ep 2; when I say "Space Council" I mean the other trainees watching the audition.

If you want to skip past the teaser, go to 1:14.

The boys have gathered in an auditorium to watch the first episode. And who is that coming in but Sunmi, who I would basically summarize as a performance artist at this point. Man, I love her.

Haruto asks her where she’ll be sitting, and all the boys strongly suggest she sit by them. She puts a chair in the middle of the aisle, so she’s in between pretty-boy waacker Sung Hanbin and charming Canadian Seok Matthew, and she makes this face for some reason.

And then they start playing the episode.

The boys enjoy each other’s trash talk, especially Yoon Jong Woo’s comment that G Group can’t win because “our roots are different.” (We’ll be seeing more of Jong Woo very shortly, trust). I feel like maybe this comment loses something in translation, because everyone reacts like it’s the quip of the century. Jong Woo is clearly a “personality” and is most likely here more to jumpstart a career on Youtube or something -- at least, that’s my take.

Everyone dies of laughter at the My House performances, and Sunmi can’t even stay in her seat. There’s also a lot of laughter at Team Hot’s performance (in the red leather jackets). Everyone’ shaving fun but I mean, oh boy, this is going to follow them around for the rest of their lives. I hope they can… deal with it.

Then the ranking is revealed.

Someone had to be 93rd, and it’s 18-year-old Japanese trainee Riku. He interviews in Japanese that he was shocked and disappointed.

Sung Han Bin, who performed Beautiful Beautiful at the end of last episode, is crowned first place winner, and Hui, who is sitting next to him, congratulates him sincerely. This would have bene several weeks into filming so Hui and Hanbin could have gotten close in the last few weeks, but maybe they really did know each other from Cube. Hanbin is overjoyed at his ranking.

If you’re curious, according to my spreadsheet, the average ranking of the G-group trainees is 52.8, while the average ranking of the K-group trainees is 41.0, which is a pretty stark difference. Of the top 10, only two are G-group; of the top 20, only 7 are G-group. Of the bottom 20 (74 to 93), only 6 are K-group. This despite the fact that we saw more auditions from G-group trainees in episode 1. You’re going to get some of that when they weight the votes the way they do, but hey, it’s their country, it’s their show, it’s their prerogative.

More stuff about how to vote. Feel free to skip to 7:57 for the episode to really start.

Time for more auditions!

Team Redstart ENM

The four Redstart trainees come out, covered in a total of 37 star stickers. So, I guess they’re confident.

I had never heard of Redstart ENM, so I looked them up. They don’t have any acts signed to them that I can find evidence of. This agency seems to exist only to promote these four trainees.

Choi Woo Jin is 18 years old and ranked 41 as of the beginning of this episode.

Hong Keon Hee is 18 years old and ranked 87 as of the beginning of this episode.

Kim Min Seoung is 19 years old and ranked 78 as of the beginning of this episode. He was on another show called Loud.

Kum Jun Hyeon is 19 years old and ranked 31 as of the beginning of this episode. (31)

The judges joke about how Kum Jun Hyeon’s loose baggy pants are very hiphop, and then they dive into their performance of Jessi’s Nunu Nana, which, as always, I watched the full cam of on Youtube before I exposed myself to MNET editing.

My take:

This was a brilliant choice of song. It was a huge hit -- 200 million views on Youtube -- and it was originally performed by a woman, so there’s that slight thrill of gender flipping it. It’s primarily a rap song, which suits their skillset, with rather minimal choreography that gave them almost a blank slate to embroider on to make this performance their own.

Their dancing and performance (as in, stage presence, charisma, that kind of thing) were both excellent, for all four of them. Watch their footwork, their angles, their consistent facial expressions even when they’re not vocalizing. They’re powerful yet controlled. And Min Seoung did that killer flip. (I love the loud appreciative wooooah from the Space Council you can hear clearly when he flips.) Both Min Seoung and Jun Hyeon had decent enough vocals that they could be a main dancer in an idol group, though I don’t really love Min Seoung's rapping vocals. He wasn’t bad or anything, I just didn’t love the sound. I liked Keon Hee’s natural deep vocal tone when he rapped, but his singing was a bit off key. Woo Jin’s vocals were shakier, both in rapping and singing. I think I’d give Jun Hyeon and Min Seoung higher scores over all -- either give them both a 3 and the others a 2, or give them both a 4 and the others a 3.

The MNET editing makes the performance look even better -- they might have brushed up Jun Hyeon’s vocals a little, but I’m not sure. We get to see Min Seoung’s flip three times, and there aren’t any shots of the vocal judges making that sour face they make.

The Space Council thinks they did great and might all get four stars.

Omigod, I’m in tune with the judges for once.

Keon Hee 3 stars ⭐⭐⭐

Woo Jin 3 stars ⭐⭐⭐

Jun Hyeon 4 stars⭐⭐⭐⭐

Min Seoung 4 stars⭐⭐⭐⭐.

Hang on, let me just double check that it’s not raining frogs or anything…. Nope, it’s just a normal day in our climate hell. I am just somehow agreeing with the judges!

Jun Hyeon is really happy to get 4 stars.

Jun Hyeon has a lot of personality, folks. He reminds me of one of my younger cousins, so I find him irritatingly endearing, if that makes any sense. I just want to tell him to shut up, but in a nice way, you know?

11:50 Tall and Short Teams Perform Conduct Zero and Reveal

Back stage, two teams are waiting -- a team from China who are very tall, and a team from Japan who are kind of short. They great each other in Korean.

The Chinese trainees interview (in Korean) that the Japanese trainees are cute, and call them “dongsaes” -- the Korean word for a younger sibling/friend. Snarkily, the show tells us that the Japanese trainees are actually older by a few years. A little number floats over the trainees heads, saying that Hiroto, Keita and Ma Jing Xiaoh are 22, 23, and 20 respectively.

(I love the constant look of bewilderment on Jing Xiao’s face throughout this encounter. He must have been really nervous to perform, but it almost looks like he’s confused as to who these hobbits are.)

Jing Xiao is 19 in the international system, so that checks out. What’s weird is, I have Hiroto’s and Keita’s ages as 20 and 21 in the international system, which would make them 21 and 22 in the Korean system…? I used their birthdates and an online birthday → age now calculator because I was too lazy to do all that math. Anyway, must be something I don’t really understand about the Korean age system. That’s why I just use the international system in these recaps.

Anyway, no one cares. Let’s watch the Osaka team perform!

Conduct Zero

Yuto is 18 and, if you’re wondering, 5’7. He’s ranked 69 right now, and is the only member of his team to give himself a confidence ranking of 3 stars instead of 4.

Kei is just 16, is also 5’7, and is a member of a “dance and vocal unit” called Edamame Beans, a subunit of EBiDAN, which seems to be some sort of AKB48 style giant “music collective” under Stardust Promotion. I don’t know much about it, but there you go. He’s in a dance position in that group. He’s ranked 76 right now.

Hiroto, not to be confused with all-star Haruto, is 20, was on Produce 101 Japan, and is signed under RBW and is on their pre-debut team. (RBW is the agency home of Mamamoo, Oneus, Onewe, and Purple Kiss.) Probably from all his pre-show exposure, and his cute face, he’s ranked 11 as of right now.

Keita is 21, a former YG Treasure Box contestant, and is a member of idol group Ciipher. He’s ranked 14 right now.

So yeah, the team comes out and Keita introduces them as “charming as takoyaki,” which Wikipedia tells me is a “Japanese snack made of a wheat flour-based batter and cooked in a special molded pan”, filled with diced octopus, and that it originated in Osaka.

Oh man. That does look charming, now you mention it.

The judges talk to Keita about how long he’s been a trainee - 9 years - and how he is a debuted member of Ciipher. We have a sad piano segment about how hard it’s been for Keita, that debuting in Ciipher didn’t solve all his problems.

I didn’t know much about Ciipher, so I looked into them. They have three title track MVs, with 3-11 million views each. I liked “Blind” best, easily -- I added it to my playlist, let’s see how long it stays there. I don’t know, they have their charms -- I hope they find a song that really breaks through.

Everyone assumes they’ll do a cute song because they’re all “cute” and short (they’re all around 5’7, as far as I can tell, which isn’t THAT short but whatever). It seems obvious to me that they won’t do a cute song dressed in all black, and of course, they don’t.

After encouraging each other with pats on the back -- very “got your back” before an improv show vibe -- and to the shouts of “ganbare!” from the Space Council (ganbare/ganbatte = fighting!) they dive into Conduct Zero, a 2015 release from Block B’s subunit called Bastarz.

My take on their performance:

Overall, an enjoyable watch.

All four of them danced pretty decently in my opinion. Yuto and Hiroto didn’t have quite enough power, while Kei was maybe too powerful, needing to relax a little more. Keita struck the right balance between giving the moves power while still seeming relaxed in his performance.

Vocal wise, they were all fairly decent too. Yuto’s vocals were the shakiest, but not by a lot. Keita’s rapping stood out -- good breath control, specific tone, all that good stuff. He also put some expression into it.

I would give Keita four stars, and the others 2 or 3 -- leaning more toward 3 for Kei for his strong dancing. I think it’s better to overdance than underdance.

The MNET editing is, if anything, kind, but it really looks like it’s the Keita-and-friends show. The judging seems to be just about Keita, too. They say the “K” in Keita must stand for K-pop. Lip J, addressing him as Keita-san, tells him he got 4 stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐. The others get 2 stars ⭐⭐, which I guess is pretty fair. They seem happy with that.

At 17:05, the tall Shanghai team comes out in slow motion, and everyone freaks the absolute fuck out. Like they’ve never seen such tall, handsome people in their lives.

But the guys stand on stage in fig leaf position, clearly nervous.

Here’s some info on them, including their heights since the show is obsessed:

Ma Jing Xiang is 19 years old and currently ranked 16th, and he’s 6’2. He’s a member of a predebut team called Midsummer Cubs, which is one of my favorite names for anything ever. Per kpop fandom wiki, “His specialty includes model walking and posing.”

Cai Jin Xin is also 19 and currently ranked 42nd. He’s also 6’2. He claims to be good at “mind controlling.”

Zhang Shuai Bo is 20, 6’1, and ranked 22nd. He was also on Youth With You 3, but eliminated in 100th place (out of 119). Oh noooooo.

*Tao Yuan* is 23, 6’0, and has already left the show. I couldn’t find a reason why, but it has been mentioned that he’s going to debut as a member of a group called XODIAC, so maybe that’s it.

Everyone absolutely loses their shit about how handsome Jing Xiang is, which again reminds me that I am not always in tune with who is and who isn’t considered handsome on shows like that. Please understand, I’m not calling him ugly or anything, not at all. I’m just saying that if you were to ask me to pick out the most handsome guy on this whole show, it wouldn’t be him.

They look great just standing there…. But then they start performing.

My take:

Yeah, this isn’t good.

It’s tough to tell whether they’re all equally bad or if some might be better than others. For example, right at the start, Tao Yuan in the white fringed shirt does a movement about a full second after the others, which makes you not sure at first, were the others early or was he late, or both? And when many of the members are that far off key, it’s hard to tell if maybe some of the others might be on key, because your ear loses where the key should be. Also, if you’re on a team with people singing off key, it’s likely to throw you off key too. I feel like maybe Zhang Shuai Bo did a little better than the others, singing wise, but I really can’t be sure. I don’t have the energy to watch this performance any more times than I already have, so I’ll say that I’d give Shuai Bo 1 star and the rest no stars.

MNET editing could have been a lot worse. The Space Council think the team members look good with their long limbs, and credit is given for them attempting the song in its original key, but a series of bad notes makes the vocal judge make this face:

In the MNET editing, they end to complete silence, but of course, in real life the trainees in the Space Council cheered for them when they were done. (You hear it in the Youtube full cam video.)

The dance judge, who choreographed this song in the first place, wants to say nice things about the performance because he likes his own choreography. He says he enjoyed watching their performance, which makes Shuai Bo smile so happily.

Aww, my heart. He wasn’t expecting a single word of praise, you can just tell.

But the good times can’t last. The vocal judge says they were completely out of tune the whole time.

Ma Jing Xiang gets 2 stars⭐⭐, I assume for his handsomeness, because I see literally no other reason.

Cai Jin Xin with the mesh sleeves gets 0 stars.

Zhang Shuai Bo gets 1 star ⭐.

*Tao Yuan* gets 1 star ⭐.

For once, the judges were kinder than I was.

20:23 Uncomfortable Sexy Times

At 20:23, there is a break during which the trainees and the judges pose for the cameras and try to look sexy. Then Kim Ji Woong shows up on camera and everyone says “woah!” at his expression,

but this is his constant facial expression. He’s not doing anything. He just always has that same, slightly confused look on his face. It might all be an act -- impossible to say.

Then there’s this strange segment in which Ji Woong’s neighbor and teammate, Yoon Jong Woo, pretends to kiss / actually kisses Ji Woong on the lips, interviewing that his heart was fluttering, yadda yadda. Ji Woong seems completely unbothered either way by this, and then they both admit it was just a show, something fun for the audience. So like, full on queerbaiting? Several trainees interview about how handsome Ji Woong is. Anyway feel free to skip to..

0:23:15 Mirotic

The judges tease Ji Woong about how he isn’t wearing a shirt under his suit jacket, then grill him about his acting career. And yeah, it seems that yeah, this was just a queer-baity act, because Ji Woong has thus far only appeared in BL (“boy love”) genre dramas, including one called “Kissable Lips” and another one called “Roomates of Poonduck 304.” (Those NAMES!) So it seems his whole team is doing a sort of sexy BL concept for their performance of Mirotic.

I don’t know much about this topic, but my impression is that once you’re in BL genre dramas, you kind of are stuck there. I do know that there is at least one Kpop group with a BL concept -- OnlyOneOf. They have really good music, as it happens, and I’m holding back from ranting about how much I loved their series of solo songs that they put out over the second half of 2022. From what I’ve seen, the gay community has embraced OnlyOneOf not as queer baiters but as representation for an underrepresented group. It feels fetishy to me, and inauthentic, but for a country with so much out-and-out homophobia, I guess it’s a step in the right direction…? I defer to any gay/queer/etc folk to weigh in on this, as it’s not really my place.

Ji Woong seems to live his life in a daze, just sort of accepting the fact that everyone who sees him, male and female alike, wants to fuck him. It’s just the background noise of his life. But he really loves singing and dancing (and maybe he wants to get out of the BL rut? No way to know) so he saw Boys Planet as a great opportunity.

Anyway, the performance.

It’s hard to separate the performance from their concept, which is, “What if Mirotic, but gay?” I wouldn’t mind that at all if it weren’t so fake and fetishy. It’s just as fake and fetishy as Madonna kissing Britney Spears at the MTV Music Awards 100 years ago. I have to remind myself that this might actually be representation for young gay folk in Korea, and maybe that makes it good…? Overall, it’s a decent performance, with 3+ star dancing, 2+ star vocals, and varied performance.

*Jung Hwan Rok* has already dropped out of the show, perhaps to return to his group, withus. (Judges gave him 2 stars.)

Jeong I Chan age 21, ranked 52. He used to be known as Jeong Jaebeom when he was on the show I-Land (that produced Enhypen); he spent most of his time on I-Land in the “Ground” team (low ranked) and was eliminated at the end of the first half. He has legally changed his name to 정이찬 Jung “Ee” Chan; he seems to want to go by “E-chan” now, but the show seems to spell it I-chan. I’m kind of surprised at his low rank, as I thought he had a fan base. On the other hand, oof. These vocals. He was about a full half-tone sharp right out the gate, and I think it threw off his whole team. Not great. I also got the impression he was uncomfortable with the concept. Maybe I’m wrong.

The judges give him 2 stars ⭐⭐, which seems fair.

Kim Ji Woong is ranked 2nd; he’s 24 years old.

He has a kind of surprisingly interesting vocal color, actually, and overall was a lot better than I’d feared he would be. He looks good dancing -- elegant, even. I was surprised, really. The judges give him 3 stars ⭐⭐⭐, which I actually think is pretty fair.

(Side note: you can’t hear the rose crumble in the youtube version; that was definitely the foley artist. For once, they got to add a sound effect other than the “gulp” noise!)

Lee Seung Hwan is 22 years old and ranked 13. He has really made the rounds of reality shows and whatnot. He was on Under19 and finished in 8th place, so he debuted as a member of project group 1THE9. When that group disbanded, he went on the show LOUD, where he was eliminated in the first round. He apparently was a backup dancer for Oneus during their US tour, so he must have some dancing chops.

And he does! But his performance style is a little flat, somehow, like unexciting, so I understand how he’d make a great backup dancer. He is the one who hits that high note (”yeahhhhh!”), and it sounded pretty good until he cracked. He didn’t let it show on his face either, so I give him that. They’re tired, IDK. I think he did fine, just not special. But I bet he’ll do well on the show, because he probably can pick up choreography quickly if he worked as a backup dancer.

The judges give him 2 stars ⭐⭐, which seems slightly low but not wildly so.

Yoon Jong Woo is 22 and currently ranked 73. He is listed as a rapper and was “Ze:U” in the very short lived idol group Black Level, whose debut single was called Infection. Really? Infection? In 2022? Read the room, folks. I mean, it’s like every mid-tempo kpop boy band song got thrown in a blender with one or two trop-house songs and then poured onto a pile of monochrome outfits. Not the fault of the trainees or anything.

His performance is fine -- he’s committed to the theme, I’ll say that. He does more rapping than singing, and both are fine. The judges praise him for dropping an octave at one point, and give him 3 stars ⭐⭐⭐, and that’s fine.

The MNET editing focuses on how sexy it is and how it makes everyone a combination of turned on and uncomfortable, apparently. The main vocal judge says repeatedly that it made him really uncomfortable. “I’ve never watched a boy group perform and feel strange like this,” he says. “This was a valuable first experience.”

28:21 Takuto Time

Honestly, I’m watching this so you don’t have to. Takuto comes out, makes big hearts with his arms, and everyone talks about how cute and young he is but how kind of weird he is for making hearts all the time.

My favorite moment is when he gives his age and the far more mature looking/behaving Han Yu Jin turns to his teammate and says, “He’s the same age as me.” I mean, Yu Jin is 15 and acts 25; Takuto is 15 and acts like he’s 5. I don’t have a lot of patience for this. Sorry if you like him a lot. He’s doing a thing, and maybe it’s secretly genius and I don’t get it. I know that Korean tolerance for over the top cutseyness seems to be higher than mine.

He does a song that Korean singer/legend Rain did in 2002 called “Instead of Saying Goodbye” (which Rain performed in boxing gloves). I bet it's a sentimental fave, but it's not good. It's like, what if “Party Up (Up In Here)” by DMX had its life and soul sucked out? And then its dry, brittle corpse was filled with stale bubble gum?

Ah, the very early days of kpop.

The song has been edited to include the voices of children laughing and saying “who are you?” (in English). It’s very Kidz Bop. He starts off with a random back flip, and then immediately loses his balance and falls when he lands, and that’s about it in terms of skills displayed. I’ll keep my comments short and sweet and say that the judge’s assessment of 0 stars seems very accurate to me, though I’ll add that the MNET editing that makes him seem half-witted is kind of unfair since he obviously just doesn’t speak or understand Korean, no matter how loudly and emphatically Solji speaks into her microphone.

Both “My Housers” feel like they’re welcoming Takuta to their house, as the beginning of that now cursed song begins playing ominously in the background.

32:40 Replay

The next segment features the two trainees we met at the very beginning of the first episode, who rated themselves with just 1 star. They’re ranked pretty well, though -- all that camera time did them some good, rankings wise.

Lee Da Eul, with the lighter colored hair and light blue jacket, is 18 and ranked 4th.

Lim Jun Seo, with the darker hair and brighter blue jacket, is 17 and ranked 19th.

They are performing Replay, originally by SHINee, which I think is a smart choice for two teenage trainees. It’s one of those songs I never get sick of, even though it was already many years old when I first got into Kpop. They say it’s their first time performing in front of people -- they’ve only trained for a few months.

As for their performance, It’s the same in the whole video as it is in the editing. They do their little talent show dance, sing semi on key, and are cute and spunky. I didn’t notice one being better than the other. When they’re done, the judges make them freestyle dance. Jun Seo freezes up at first, while Da Eul hams it up, dancing like a class clown trying to get attention. Finally Jun Seo does a summersault. The judges give them both 2 stars⭐⭐, which is obviously too high. They gave Jeon Woo Seok (barefoot Criminal performer) 1 star! Honestly, these judges are just trolling us.

I love these reactions from K-group:

Top, left to right is Haru ⭐⭐ and Riku⭐, who perform in Maniac. In the second row is Na Kamden’s ⭐⭐⭐ denimed legs, then Jay⭐⭐⭐⭐; those two sang Rush Hour. Then we see tall Ichika⭐, be-hatted Itsuki ⦰, and Ouju⦰, who performed Shine. (We’ll be seeing a lot more of Ouju this episode). Directly under Riku two rows down is Ma Jing Xiang ⭐⭐ in the choker, with a squinting Cai Jin Xin ⦰next to him, and then Zhang Shuai Bo ⭐ -- those three performed in Reveal earlier. You also see a bit of Winnie, the Thai idol.

What I think is funny is their reactions. Yeah, Jay is fine, and Ichika seems like a sweet, classy guy who would clap for anyone. But msot of the rest of them are showing their irriation, disbelief, and annoyance. Yeah, of course, they might just be bummed that the competition to see who can get more stars and thus see the Signal Song a day earlier is very much not going toward the G-group. But they might be extra bummed that the judges are just handing out stars willy-nilly to the Korean trainees. Were Da Eul and Jun Seo really that much better than Itsuki and Ouju, who got no stars? Were they better than Zhang Shuai Bo, with his hesitantly happy smile, who got 1 star? Were they as good as Haru, who got 2 stars? I don’t know.

So, yeah, the competition between K and G is heating up. Who on EARTH will win? No way to know, even though all along G groups have scored poorly and K groups have scored better. Who will win?

Then we have the briefest clips of multiple auditions, all of which the judges scored poorly:

Maniac, originally by Stray Kids, performed by Haru and Riku

UN Village, originally by Baehyun of EXO, performed by Wumuti

Love Scenario, originally by IKON, performed by Choi Seung Hun and Jeon Ho Young;

Lullaby, originally by GOT7, performed by Jung Ho Jin, Kim Min Hyuk, and Park Gwan Young

I’ll be covering these, and other audition performances that were skipped completely, in a separate post.

35:50 Things Get Real

The five members of Team The Real come out.

Park Min Seok, age 20, is currently ranked 64th. He says his favorite song is Love Again by Baekhyun. Good choice.

Kim Tae Rae, age 20, is currently ranked 9th. More on him shortly.

Park Han Bin, age 20, is currently ranked 34th. He went on LOUD but was eliminated in the first round. He lists Woodz as someone he looks up to, which is a huge point in his favor.

Lee Jeong Hyeon, age 20, is currently ranked 35th.

Mun Jung Hyun, age 17, is currently ranked 24th. We’ve been seeing him a lot in the Space Council, like when he sat in Chair 1 in episode 1. He’s a former child actor -- he was in four movies between 2012 and 2017 (so when he was aged 5 to 10).

I have to rant a little more about Kim Tae Rae because I love him so much but don’t know why he’s ranked so high. He was on another reality show before, one called Top 10 Student, when he was 18; click here to watch him skillfully sing a boring duet on that show. (He’s on the left.) But I don’t know if that appearance explains his high ranking. Maybe it’s his cute intro video, where he plays the guitar and sings? I don’t think so, because it doesn’t have an unusual amount of views. Could it really just be that people like his voice? I mean, that would fill me with joy. He’s so good, you guys. I get so happy when someone in Kpop can actually SING. He has a fantastic voice. It’s a tiny bit Baekhyun-esque, a similar vocal color anyway. Now I want to hear him, Baekhyun, and Lee Hwan Hee all sing together in close harmony. Ahhhhh….

Back to the point.

The judges think that Mun Jung Hyun looks like Kang Daniel, and I mean, maybe? The judges tease all the trainees about their relationship with the WakeOne team from G-group (Anthonny, Haruto, and Min, who did Glitch Mode) and Anthonny gives us this angry, eyes-like-daggers look:

Just so we know that the rivalry runs deep and that they hate each other.

Interestingly, the judges completely fail to mention the other two WakeOne trainees who are going to do Bloom Bloom later on. WakeOne sent 10 trainees in total, which is wild but makes sense -- they manage Kep1er, so obviously have a good relationship with MNET and this franchise. WakeOne also recently took over management of T01 and they manage popular soloist Jo Yuri. I’m excited to see the team they debut out of this!

The judges ask them what is their unique strength, and blue-haired Hanbin replies, “There’s nothing we can’t do.” Out in the Space Council, Anthonny says that they’re good but that they (the G-group trainees) can beat them. And then they start.

My take:

You guys. I LOVED THIS PERFORMANCE. Just watch it on Youtube. The MNET editing is trying to make it look better with all the instant replays and reaction shots, but it is so much better if you just watch it and enjoy it. This is hands down my favorite audition from this round. A lot of the lyrics are “Look at our dance” and they sell that idea to the audience, as a group. If you watch each guys individually, yeah, you notice some little things to improve, but if you watch it just all together, there isn’t an obvious weak link.

Kim Tae Rae with the light brown hair sang so well. Yeah, he cracks a little on that high note, but he’s a human being and god knows how exhausted they all were. He’s a genuine talent. He also brought a lot of energy and personality and performance to his dancing. He did drop his “face” here and there -- I think he may have been trying to look serious/determined, and it just came across as blank. But these are minor quibbles for the obvious main vocal. I give him 4 stars.

The judges give him 3 stars ⭐⭐⭐, just to make me angry, I guess.

Little Mun Jung Hyun did really well too. MNET didn’t air this part, but he does this cool raspy rapping rap in the middle and pulled it off. Not to mention his “chum deureogayu” (the dance starts now) he does, holding out the finger heart. So fun, so much personality. I did notice that his footwork needs a bit of work -- but from the waist up, he’s doing great. I showed this performance to my fella, and he picked out Mun Jung Hyun as his favorite performer. My fella has good taste -- he picked out Ten as the best dancer in The Seventh Sense. I’d give him 3 stars, just because I think he could use a tiny bit of work on his dancing, but I think he’s great. (I mean, I'd give Jung Hyun 3 stars. I'd give my fella 3 million stars!)

The judges agree with me -- Jung Hyun gets 3 stars ⭐⭐⭐.

Blue-haired Park Han Bin was obviously a major presence in the performance. My fella thought his big facial expressions were too big and annoying, but I didn’t feel that way about it. I thought it suited the song and the style they were going for. Also, he was the center, so it made sense for him to be doing that. All in all, I think he deserved what the judges gave him: 4 stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐. But I disagree with LipJ, who says that he carried the whole team on his back. He didn’t have to do that; everyone here pulled his own weight.

Lee Jeong Hyeon in the white short sleeved jacked did some really excellent rapping, and had fun and varied facial expressions. Honestly, I don’t see a reason not to give him 4 stars, but the judges do -- he gets 3 stars ⭐⭐⭐.

Park Min Seok in the leather jacket must have been the lead vocal here -- he does some pretty good singing, perfectly on key and with good support and a pleasant tune. Sometimes you can kind of see him mentally counting the steps as he dances, but on the whole he does a great job. I would have been stuck between 3 and 4 stars and probably would have gone with 3, but the judges take another puff on their crack pipe and give him 2 stars ⭐⭐.

God this whole performance gets better every time I watch it. If I had seen this exact performance on some music show, I’d be stanning this team. Yes, part of it is that this song is good, but I have to say that I’m not the world’s biggest ATEEZ fan. Their music is just not really my style, as skilled and talented as the guys are. I guess I’m just not that into pirates. So I had never heard this song before. And honestly, I like this version better than any live version that ATEEZ themselves did. They bring so much energy and enthusiasm to it.

The Space Council loves the performance, too.

Haruto turns to Anthonny and reminds him that Anthonny said that the G-team was better than the K-team…

The judges tell them that even though they must have practiced a ton, they looked like they were having fun on stage, and yeah, that’s the point.

39:40 Trainee Lee Hoe Taek

Final boss Hui comes out, and everyone tenses up.

The judges ask him why he came on this show, and he says:

“I had hundreds of reasons. The biggest reason was… I needed change.” He interviews that when he got back from my military service, and returned to PENTAGON, things had changed a lot. He says that it’s been difficult for his team to even work with who they wanted to, that they were rejected a lot. He thought to himself, “We’re no longer appealing enough to work with.” It made him sad. “It was hard to overcome the invisible wall,” he says, as Solji blinks back tears. “The only option for me now is Boys Planet.”

We get a short montage, set to soft piano music, of other trainees who have already debuted, starting with the immensely talented Lee Hwan Hee from Up10tion, who we see in an interview wearing his embroidered red jacket. Thanks, MNET. Be sure to show him talking about how sad he is while showing a brief clip of his audition, instead of just, you know, showing us his fucking audition. (Although, to be fair, his audition wasn't good so maybe it was kind.)

We also hear from Seowon from NINE.i, then Cha Woonggi who used to be in T01, then Seowon again, saying “I thought everything would work out if I debuted.” The judges are sympathetic, knowing that the competition is stiff in the industry: “It’s like entering the eye of a needle now.”

Lee Dong Yeol, better known (maybe) as Xiao in Up10tion, says, “I can’t perform just because I want to… I questioned what was in the future for me. I think I’m more desperate because I debuted.”

Ok, quick note: Up10tion has some really good songs. Check out Spin Off. It’s so fun. Big and brassy and bright. I also like What If Love a lot. Give them a chance, ok?

Anyway, the judges tell “trainee Lee Hoe Taek” to perform, and he does.

My take: He does his version of BlackPink’s Shut Down, which probably means something to him emotionally, and he shuts it down, and fuck anyone who says otherwise.

Why do we have this thing that everyone has to be an all-rounder? Hui is a top tier vocalist and he can write and produce songs. Why should he have to be the best dancer in the world, too? He isn’t the best dancer; he’s good enough to be a main vocal who dances next to the main dancer. Is D.O. from EXO a fantastic dancer? Is Chen? Nope. They dance well enough that they pull their weight, and then your eye goes to Kai, hamming it up in the center. Is Kai a fantastic singer? Nope. He has improved a ton, but he’s still not as good as most of his teammates and that’s OK. That’s why we have groups in k-pop. Jesus fuck.

So, I refuse to say, “Oh, his dancing is a tiny bit stiff, I hate this performance.” He MADE that the remix. He brought in the original violin piece that BP sampled, and used a larger clip of it. He sang and then layered his backup vocals. I bet he choreographed it himself because no way is his agency supporting him, and he’s probably too proud to ask for help. Then he sang, live, impeccably, while dancing well enough to entertain.

So fuck the judges for implying they might have given him 3 stars because his dancing “wasn’t good enough.” If you’re going to give some nearly-tone-deaf trainees 4 stars, then give Hui 5 stars. Fuck.

48:00 Who won between K group or K group?

With that, they end the auditions and announce the winner. They hem and haw and drag it out of course, but K group won by a landslide.

Out of 200 stars awarded, 119 went to K group, representing 59.5% of the vote, and making the ratio of stars awarded just about 3:2 in favor of K group. K Group is excited to get the benefit of being able to practice the Signal Test Song one day earlier, but I don’t know why that’s such a benefit, since it’s obviously the exact same song they used for every other male version of this show.

Click here for my take on the auditions that weren’t aired: Attention, Bloom Bloom, Freak, Gambler, Love Scenario, Lullaby, Maniac, UN Village, Veil, and Who. That’s a total of 18 trainees we didn’t see perform at all.

Click here for the second half of this recap of Ep 2, 49:34 to the end.

Thanks for reading! If you're enjoying the recaps, tell a friend! This kind of recap appeals to a specific kind of person so I'm not sure how people will find me, so word of mouth would help a lot. Thanks! <3

#boysplanet #boys planet 999 #boys planet #hui #lee hoetaek #boys planet recap #boysplanet999 #kpop #k-pop

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justbabyme · 1 year

Text

I posted 6,787 times in 2022

That's 4,412 more posts than 2021!

24 posts created (0%)

6,763 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@mrslittletall

@tsuki-chibi

@thedovetailinginterests

@nsfwitchy

@witchy--mama

I tagged 1,906 of my posts in 2022

#grabby hands - 87 posts

#yes! - 17 posts

#sigh... - 14 posts

#aesthetic-y - 13 posts

#this! - 10 posts

#mood... - 9 posts

#oh... - 7 posts

#britain - 7 posts

#wow... - 6 posts

#yeah... - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#my plots will frequently get stuck in long delay because the characters just have to have this conversation or do this cute thing together!

My Top Posts in 2022:

Hey I saw your tags on the "what do you do outside of tumblr" and I was wondering if you have any tips about getting involved in a field like that. Mostly for the same reasons as you I assume--I have many hobbies that I want to pursue outside of a job and I find repetitive, mundane work strangely satisfying. Thanks!

Oh! Um, I've never really thought about it - admin work normally isn't too hard to find, most companies will always need someone to file things and sort the spreadsheets! I guess taking classes on admin stuff is always a good idea, most companies need you to know how to use the Microsoft packages - word, excel, that sort of thing - and it looks good on your CV/resume! Other than that, most job websites will have a list of positions that are near you, you don't want to spend too much time on travel!

Thanks for the ask, I hope you find something good!

2 notes - Posted December 1, 2022

I was tagged by @mrslittletall! Thanks for the tag!

Whats your top 5 songs right now?

I'll have to restrict myself otherwise this would be all Amelie songs because new obsession go brrrrr, but I can at least add the one I go back to most often!

youtube

See the full post

3 notes - Posted April 6, 2022

I was tagged by @mrslittletall. Thank you!

Put your favorite playlist on shuffle and post the first 10 songs from it.

I don't really listen to playlists, but I'll use the one I made for my mum since I listen to it too sometimes!

1: The Phantom Of The Opera - Original London Cast Recording (starting out with a VERY specific theatre one, thanks playlist...)

2: Candy - Robbie Williams

3: Man! I Feel Like A Woman - Shania Twain (this song is a bop, fight me!)

4: Up - Olly Murs ft Demi Lovato

5: Shake It Off - Taylor Swift

6: Walking On Sunshine - Katrina And The Waves

7: Call Me Maybe - Carly Rae Jepson

8: Love Really Hurts Without You - Billy Ocean

9: Last Friday Night - Katy Perry

10: Domino - Jessie J

Welp, now that I'm done thoroughly exposing my HORRIFIC taste in music, I'll tag the usuals - @nsfwitchy, @chocolate-otaku and @scrumptiouslyholypatrol! Have fun!

4 notes - Posted August 19, 2022

New PFP, same me!

4 notes - Posted November 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

OK, I cannot believe I actually have to say this, but I'm gonna put this out as an official warning:

If you're a TERF, I will block you. I check my follower notifications, and if your blog is full of anti-trans rhetoric, I'm going to quietly hit that block button. Anyone else, I really don't care what's on your blog - kink/fetish blogs are fine, don't panic, I have my own sideblog for that and you're fine to follow here. But if you're a TERF and you try to follow me, don't be shocked if you suddenly can't see my blog anymore. That's all.

5 notes - Posted April 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #Youtube

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nationalharryleague · 4 years

Text

Portfolio

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: AU, Angst, Boss!Harry

Word count: 3.5k!

Warnings: Domestic violence mention, boss/employee dynamic

A/N: Hi! I decided to write another fic after Overnight was received so well! Again, thank you to anyone who read and enjoyed it! I’m not sure how I feel about this one lol but I think it’s good enough to post. Please let me know if you enjoyed it and send feedback! Thank you for reading!!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist!

Part 2

You had always been a teacher’s pet. Growing up, you were the kid who worked hard to get a 4.0 GPA just for the rush of getting a compliment on your intelligence from your teacher. You craved that validation for all the hard work you put in and you just wanted people you admired to like you. And not for nothing, you deserved the compliments. At work, you were the first one there and the last one to leave. You loved your job and it showed.

You were currently working your first job with any real power at an up and coming public relations firm, Styles Public Relations. SPR was quickly growing in size and recognition and being brought onto the team was a dream come true. You loved everything about working there. The offices were beautiful, it paid well, and your ideas and proposals were finally being heard and brought to the public. Well, you loved everything except one glaring, irritating, and gorgeous problem: your boss.

Harry Styles was a striking man. He was tall, impeccably dressed, and obscenely attractive. His skin was perfectly tan and when it got warm in the office you could see beautiful tattoos revealed by his rolled up sleeves. Those sleeves were worth more than your life and his head-to-toe Gucci ensembles usually showed his wealth off well. He looked like he should be on the front of a magazine, not behind a desk. Well, he was on the cover of Forbes that one time. While he was so nice to look at, the man was anything but nice. He had an abrasive attitude and not much care for pleasantries or mincing words.

Today, you found yourself on the opposite end of his brutal disposition. You had brought a campaign proposal to him for a newly acquired client and he began to rip it to shreds.

“I don’t know why you thought this campaign was a good idea, Y/N,” he told you sternly. “It’s childish, silly, and unprofessional.” Every word he said dug into you. You tried to attribute his harshness to it being Monday, but you knew he would say this to you any day of the week.

“The client said they wanted something more playful to soften their image,” you defended yourself. “I was doing what they asked for.”

“Well, you did a terrible job at it.”

That stung. You had dedicated your life for weeks to this proposal and had expected him to love it. You hoped this was finally the proposal that would secure your position in his good graces. Apparently, not.

“Okay. I’ll restart the project with a different angle.” You moved forward to grab the binder off the conference room table and flee the room back to the safety of your office. You were shocked when he put his own hands on the binder and slid it away from you.

“You’re off the account. I’ll have someone else do a better job,” he spat. Now, that really hurt. Your ego was closely related to your career and you knew you deserved better than this. You did everything you could to hold back your tears, but one betrayed you and fell down your cheek. You believed you saw his hard exterior soften for a split second before his ruthless demeanor returned.

“Fine,” you breathed, never breaking eye contact with the cruel man. “I’ll leave you now, your highness.” The words left your lips before you could fully register them in your own head. You turned on your heel and rushed back to your office, thinking about the insubordination complaint coming your way.

“Did I just get myself fired?” you asked yourself softly when you were finally in the safety of your own office.

The rest of your week passed in a blur. By Friday, you had accepted your fate and decided to get every passive aggressive dig at your boss you could before you carried your things out in a cardboard box. When you saw him around the office, you made sure to make direct eye contact and shoot daggers his way and you responded to his emails with one word answers. You were also producing the best work you had in years. Turns out, spite was a fantastic motivator for you. If he was going to fire you, he would feel bad about it.

As usual, you spent your Friday night typing away in your office. You were a workaholic and had no problem with staying at work late. Unfortunately, so was your new nemesis.

You caught your first glimpse of him after-hours on a trip to the copier. Your next was on your trek to the coffee pot. Later, on a walk around the office to stretch your legs. Each time you saw him, he was in the same spot. He sat at the conference table surrounded by spreadsheets and graphics and stared perplexed at the piles of paper encompassing him. You knew you could go in and ask him if he needed help, but you wanted to watch him suffer. According to him, you would just do a terrible job anyway.

It was about 7 o’clock when you heard a firm knock on your office door. You expected it to be the cleaning crew asking to vacuum your office. With a ‘come in’ your door opened and your boss’ large body leaned up against the door frame, careful not to enter the office he knew he wasn’t welcome in. While you were shocked he was coming to talk to you, you stayed quiet. If he wanted to talk to you, he would have to break the silence. After a few awkward moments, he did.

“Um, I was thinking about ordering dinner if you wanted to join me.” This was by far the nicest thing he had ever said to you other than ‘you’re hired.’

“Well, what are you getting?”

“I’ll buy you whatever you want for dinner if you take a look at the investor relations portfolio I’m working on.” You were taken aback. He was asking for your help. He needs me, you thought as you smirked to yourself.

“Make it the Italian place down the street and we have a deal,” you countered. You didn’t want to spend anytime with him at all but you were taking this as a sign that 1) he wasn’t firing you, and 2) he thought you did good work. Also, their spaghetti bolognese was calling your name.

Soon you were both knee deep in documents and investor information packets. You absolutely could not believe it but the two of you were collaborating well and making real progress on the portfolio. This was the working relationship you always wanted to have with your big shot boss; the opposite of his constant criticism and belittling of your work.

When the food arrived, you both decided to take a break and eat like an entire company’s stock shares weren’t resting on your shoulders. While your conversation stayed surrounding work, it inevitably steered towards the account he had taken away from you.

“So, how’s my campaign doing?” you asked. You knew it was a risky question but you two had been getting along and you decided you needed an update on the account that had become your baby.

“I gave it to Marcus and-”

“Marcus? Really?” You interrupted him. “Marcus is a shithead.” Your baby deserved better than Marcus.

“You didn’t let me finish,” he said in a joking manner, with a small smile. The smile was just big enough for you to notice that he had dimples. He had never smiled in front of you before. “He’s doing a horrendous job and I was going to give it back to you on Monday.”

“Thank you. I appreciate the second chance,” you confessed. “Can you level with me for a minute?” you asked after a moment of silence. “Why did you rip into me like that? You could have just told me that it wasn’t right for me and taken it away.”

You watched him think for a moment. He scratched at his five o’clock shadow (that was more like a 9 o’clock shadow now) and you could tell he was searching for the right words.

“Because it got you fired up, but I could tell I hurt your feelings and I apologize.” You never expected an apology for the way he acted and you no longer regretted showing him your emotions. He had hurt you and he should feel bad for it. “I thought you were getting complacent in your ideas and you’ve been killing it since Monday.”

“Thank you for the apology. Here I am thinking you did it just to be a dick.”

“Is that what people in the office really think of me?” He looked genuinely hurt and you felt slightly guilty for being the bearer of bad news. But you hoped if he saw it from his fearful employees’ perspective he would lighten up a little.

“Do you want me to be honest?” He nodded his head. “You act like you have a stick so far up your ass it’s touching your brain and that you’re better than everyone else because your suit costs more than my rent.” If he never minced his words, why should you?

“Oh Y/N, tell me what you really think,” he said after a pause with a light chuckle. You were surprised by his reaction. You never expected him to take something like that so well.

“Listen,” you began again. “I understand and respect your toughness on us. But there is a line between criticism and just being mean.” You decided this was a time to call him on his shit, during this very very rare moment of comradery between you. You wanted to have a healthy relationship with him, maybe even a friendship.

“I understand that I can get a bit harsh. It’s just the whole ‘is it better to be loved or feared’ thing. I’ve always thought fear would be the safer option.” You felt like you were getting to pull back the layers of his hard shell and see the human being underneath for a brief period of time.

“But if you were truly loved, no one would ever betray you,” you whispered softly, always the romantic.

“Love has never been reliable, has it?” Your heart broke for him and you realized someone doesn’t become as hardened as he is overnight. Something did this to him.

“What about love being the most powerful force on earth?” you wiggled your eyebrows at him, referring to the slogan for an engagement ring campaign you were both working on.

“Well, when your wife tries to steal the company that you built together and run away to Spain with her personal trainer, love gets a little bit more complicated.” There it is, you thought to yourself. This was the first time he ever felt like a real person to you; not like a teflon shell of anger, wealth, and ambition. His features looked softer and he seemed less like your evil boss, and more like someone dealing with a painful trauma.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” you said softly, genuinely meaning it. “Oh shit, sorry. Mr. Styles,” you corrected yourself. He laughed at your mistake and you watched his dimples reach their full potential. He looked down at the table, obviously a little uncomfortable with his rare moment of vulnerability with the woman who was probably the biggest pain in his ass in the office. Before you knew it, you had decided to share your own uncomfortable vulnerability.

“My ex put me in the hospital while I was still living in New York,” you began, watching his eyes immediately jump to yours and listen intently.

“Oh Y/N, you don’t have to talk about this… I didn’t mean-,” he tried to stop you but you figured if he shared with you, you could share with him.

“No, it’s okay. It’s been a long time,” you reassured him, shaking your head softly. “We were fighting because I found out he had been cheating on me. I had packed a bag and was trying to leave when he pushed me down the stairs of our apartment building. I broke my arm in two places and I had to have a few surgeries.” You rolled up the sleeve of your blouse and showed him the scar that ran down your forearm. You scanned his face and it looked like he genuinely cared about you for a moment. You brushed it off. “After that, I decided I needed to leave New York.”

“Why London?” he said gently.

“I was obsessed with this English boy band when I was growing up,” you laughed. “I guess I romanticised London in my head and decided it might be a good place for a fresh start.”

“While I’m incredibly sorry you had to go through all of that to get to London, I’m very glad that you found your way to me,” he spoke tenderly. His face was serious, but not the seriousness you were used to while getting scolded about your work. It was gentle and like he meant every word he said. You were happy you found your way to this version of him too.

“To the firm, I mean,” he corrected himself and you felt a weird pang of sadness inside of you. You are just his employee, remember that, you thought to yourself.

“I’m happy I found the firm too. If only I could figure out how to deal with my hellish boss?” you asked sarcastically, rolling your eyes dramatically and laughing at him. You realized that this could definitely be taken as flirting, but you decided were okay with that.

“Maybe they’re just trying to push you because you are by far the best campaign director they have,” he said nonchalantly, leaning back in his seat and watching your every movement. You felt your cheeks heat and the rush of adrenaline from finally getting his validation. This was all you ever wanted from him.

“Oh, I know,” you smirked, leaning back in your own chair and studying him as well.

He really was gorgeous. His quaffed hair had fallen over the course of the day and a few stray pieces hung on his forehead. His black dress shirt fit him so well. You were fully able to appreciate the tailored fit after he had shrugged off his blazer and removed his tie, unbuttoning the top few buttons to reveal glimpses of two swallows that sat on his collarbones. A chain that you had never gotten to see hung around his neck, a cross and the Star of David resting on his chest.

“We should get back to work,” he murmured after a few extended moments of staring at each other.

“Probably.”

You two worked for another hour or so before you let out a small yawn and Harry insisted you both call it a night. Although you protested and told him you were fine, he was firm in his demand that you go home and rest. As you packed up your things in your office, he hovered in the room and watched your every move. Conversation was relaxed and casual, not stained with the malice you usually had towards each other.

He took your briefcase from your hands, offering to help as you struggled to carry a poster and a few proposal binders, and carried it as you walked in step with each other out of the office. When you reached the front doors and went to go your separate ways, you were met with a puzzled look on his face.

“Where are you going? The parking garage is this way?”

“Oh, I don’t have a car. I take the tube wherever I have to go.”

“Let me drive you home,” he offered. When you denied his proposal, you were met with a stern, “Let me drive you home or you’re fired.”

Although you fought him the entire walk to his car, asserting that you were fine to take the train, you climbed into his beautiful jet black sports car with a huff and a pout. He had a triumphant smirk on his face that you were tempted to slap off, but decided to take this as a sign from the universe that you just weren’t meant to get blisters from your heels walking home tonight. You watched as his long fingers gripped the steering wheel skillfully and you both sat peacefully, the silence between you only interrupted when you gave him occasional directions to turn right or left. The soft sounds of a Fleetwood Mac song you couldn’t remember the name to flowed through the speakers and his mouth silently lip-synced the words. You admired him the whole drive home and you didn’t want to get out of the car when he pulled up to your building.

You both departed the car, walking around to the trunk where he had stashed your briefcase. Your casual conversations had long passed, both of you beginning to mourn the night you had together. You had enjoyed this night far more than you anticipated and you hoped this would be the first of many late nights at the office that he would join you for. You looked up at him when he handed you your briefcase and you both stood there in silence for just a few more fleeting seconds, neither of you wanting to be alone yet. You were first to break the noiseless night.

“Thank you for dinner and the ride home, Mr. Styles.”

“Please call me Harry,” he said with a subtle smile, stepping up on to the curb, closing much of the space between you.

“I can do that, Harry.” His first name felt foreign on your lips but it was a welcome change.

“Thank you for all your help tonight. I needed your fresh set of eyes on that portfolio.” This interaction felt so intimate; his words hushed and complimentary, intensified by his body’s proximity to yours.

“Whenever you need me,” you breathed, refusing to break the eye contact you were both desperately holding on to.

With one swift step he pressed your bodies and your lips together, backing you up until your body pressed against his car. You dropped your briefcase to the ground and your hands flew up to the base of his neck. He tasted like the lemon cookie he had ordered for dessert and you smelled his intoxicating cologne as you drank each other in. His hands snaked their way under your blazer and rested on your hips, pulling you impossibly closer to him. His kiss was deep and demanding and you weren’t sure if you ever wanted it to end.

This morning you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him and mere hours later you were ready to bring him up into your own. He was infuriating and rude and knew just how to push your buttons. But, he also seemed to be gentle, kind, and thoughtful when he wanted to be. Harry Styles was an enigma. You couldn’t wrap your head around him and it drew you to him even more.

Your bodies flowed in perfect sync with one another and your open-mouthed and hungry kisses were so hypnotizing you couldn’t think. Harry was the only person that existed to you anymore, tuning out the murmurs of a passersby, and anywhere your skin touched his was lit on fire.

Finally coming up for air, you breathlessly peeled your lips away from the other. You both refused to break your eye contact, your hands gripping tight to his biceps to steady your weak legs, and scanned each other’s faces.

“You have a little something,” he murmured, reaching to wipe your smudged red lipstick from your bottom lip with his thumb. You leaned into his touch and smiled up at him.

“So do you,” you panted, staring at his lips that were now stained red.

You both just stood there for a little while, soaking up the other’s company before you pulled away and things got more complicated. He was your boss after all, was this even allowed? Did he want to be something more than coworkers? If things ended poorly, would you still be able to work together? Would he be nicer to you now?

“It’s late. You should get some sleep,” he eventually broke the silence and your spiraling thoughts.

“I agree. You worked me real hard today,” you smirked at him, unable to pass up the innuendo. An amused grin spread across his lips and he took a step back from you, releasing you from his grip against the car. He gathered your things you had dropped on the ground during his assault and handed them back to you.

Harry leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your cheek that lingered a little too long to be considered friendly. It made your cheeks burn.

“I’ll see you Monday, sweetheart” was the last thing he said to you before he climbed back into his car and drove off into the night.

Part 2

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles drabble #harry styles blurb #boss!harry #CEO!harry #one direction #harry styles au #harryandhockey

1K notes · View notes

tbtssstuff · 4 years

Text

Personnel || jhs

Summary: Working at Hope World Inc. was enjoyable. Especially when the owner, Jung Hoseok, has his eye on you. After you hook up at the company party, Hoseok asks you to be his press girlfriend. What is a ‘press girlfriend’? You were soon to find out.

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Reader has such a thing for the way Hoseok smells, dirty talk, hair pulling, sir kink, manhandling, he smacks her in the face like once, oral (m receiving), face fucking, deep throating, Hoseok calls her a slut a lot, the reader is very obedient, loss of virginity with like 0 prep, very rough unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all)

Masterlist

AN: This is like... my 3rd time writing smut??? Please enjoy?? 😅😅 I forgot while writing the smut scene that she was a virgin but even when I tried to re write it to fit it in it didn’t really work. I was so caught up in the smut I forgot a major plot point 🙃 yay me

-TJ/ TacoAdmin 🌮

“Okay see THAT!” You point at the TV screen. “How is that sexy!?”

You and your roommate, Jungkook, were watching Fifty Shades of Grey for probably the umpteenth time. Anastasia was nibbling on the end of a pencil and Christian acted as if it was the sexiest thing on the planet. It wasn’t sexy. It was gross. Who bites pencils?

Jungkook sighed, running his fingers through his freshly dyed hair. “You don’t think a lot of things are sexy, Y/n, but trust me when I say that it IS sexy. Like when Tae-”

“AAHHHH!” You shout, covering your ears trying to block out your best friend talk about his sex life with his boyfriend. It was the last thing you wanted to hear.

Jungkook and Taehyung have been dating for as long as you can remember. Hell they were dating before you met Jungkook in college. Taehyung was apparently a transfer student to Jungkook’s high school and after a science experiment went wrong, they have been inseparable.

Not to say they weren’t cute! They were probably the cutest couple you had ever seen. Taehyung was a hairdresser for one of the best salons in Seoul while Jungkook was a tattoo artist. Jungkook got his hair dyed for free, which he did often hence why it was now cherry red, and Taehyung got free tattoos. Small ones though because he was scared of needles. Poor baby.

Once Jungkook was done laughing at your misfortune, he placed an inked hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay. You’ll get there one day, Virgin Mary.”

“Wow!” You smack his hand away, revealing when it looked like it actually hurt him a little, narrowing your eyes at him. “Way to bring up my 23 years of virginess!”

��I’m sorry!” Jungkook howled with laughter, showing that he was indeed not sorry.

Jungkook knew that you had never been able to find that one guy that made you feel something other than annoyance. The closest you got to finding one was Min Yoongi, your coworker, and Jung Hoseok, your boss at Hope World Inc.

Jung Hoseok was probably the best boss you have ever worked for. Not only was he very easy on the eyes, but he also made you feel very appreciated. Something other boss’ you worked for never did. It made the three years you’ve worked under him the best years of your life.

“Hey.” Jungkook snapped his fingers in front of your face. “You listening?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you were going to be home tomorrow night?”

You shrug, reaching for your phone, clicking it on to see what tomorrow was. Your heart dropped a little when you saw that it would be Friday the 20th. The company party was tomorrow.

Hope World Inc. had just gotten a huge contract and the CEO, aka Jung Hoseok himself, thought it would be a good idea to order as much food and alcohol that he could and throw a - mandated - company party.

“I will be here until maybe 6. Why? Special night with Tae?”

“Weren’t you the one that just tried to drown me out when I talked about my sex life?”

“Touché.”

“What’s going on tomorrow night?”

Jungkook was always the curious bug. Always snooping through everything and anything he can. Annoying at times, but when he looks at you with those big doe eyes, how can you say no?

“Do you remember Mono Corp.?”

Jungkook nodded.

“Well Mr. Jung was able to sign the contract that merges the companies by the end of the year, so he decided to throw a company party to celebrate.”

“But you don’t like parties?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you. It was true that you didn’t like BIG parties, but you never said you didn’t hate them in general. It’s just if there is a choice of whether to go to a crowded room with people you didn’t know or stay home curled into a ball and catching up on Friends, you were going to choose staying home.

“It’s mandated.”

Jungkook nodded and just left it at that. There really was nothing else to say about it.

“What are you going to wear?”

Well nothing other than that.

“I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.” You reach for the popcorn and shove it in your mouth.

It was too early in the morning to be looking at these spreadsheets. All the numbers seemed to jumble into one monster number. Jungkook unplugged your alarm in the middle of the night, he claims it was an accident, but you honestly think he likes to sabotage your schedule, so you thought you were running late and didn’t get any coffee. Turns out you were so early that you could have got coffee, but by the time you figured that out you were already at work and your favorite coffee shop was extremely far away.

Fucking thank you Jeon Jungkook. Prick.

Honestly it was good that you were here alone, otherwise you would feel so bad for the person that dared to invade your space right now.

“Oh you’re here early. Good.”

You looked up from your computer to see Jung Hoseok, coffee in one hand, bag in the other, coming into the main office.

God how was it even at 8 am he looked like he came from a vogue photoshoot? Not a strand of hair was out of place, his skin looked so smooth, he didn’t have any dark circles under his eyes, and even his navy blue Burberry suit didn’t have a single wrinkle. He was just perfect.

But even though there was a literal Adonis in front of you, all you saw was the liquid life in his hand.

From the smell of it it was a caramel frappuccino, with 2 shots of espresso, extra whipped cream, and chocolate shavings on top. Not your coffee of choice, but the smell of it just made your mouth water.

You could say you were a bit of a coffee snob, but that's neither here nor there.

Hoseok noticed the drool on your chin before you did. He knew you liked coffee, more than any normal human should, and from the look of desperation in your eyes he figured you hadn’t had your daily dose yet.

Well lucky for you he was an amazing boss.

“Do you… want some coffee?”

“What? No that’s your coffee.”

Hoseok smiles and places the coffee cup down on your desk. The smell was stronger now, even more mouth watering, but you realized it wasn’t the coffee you were now smelling. Whatever cologne Hoseok had decided to put on today smelled better then any coffee you have ever had.

The smell was so strong and smelled so good that all you wanted to do was bury your face in his neck. To kiss up his jaw to his ear, lick the silver hoop earring before you nibble on his ear.

“Don’t worry.” His voice broke you from your imagination and you saw him start towards his office.

“Drink up. I’ll just have someone bring me something later. Besides,” Hoseok stops at his office door, turning to look at you with a kind smile, “You look like you could use it way more than me.”

And with that he disappeared behind his door.

“A frappuccino? Since when do you like cold coffee?”

“Yoongi! Good morning.” You smile at Yoongi who was making his way to his desk, two steaming hot coffees in hand. “Not dressed for work as usual I see.”

Min Yoongi was never the sort of man to wear a suit and tie, so how he got a job here was way beyond you, but here he was - ripped jeans and all - handing you your favorite coffee.

“You avoided my question, Y/n. The cold coffee. What gives? You always said it was inhumane to drink it cold. If you want coffee it has to be hot enough to scold your enemies.”

“Wha! No! I never said that!”

“You say it daily, once you told me it twice. So I ask again.” Yoongi leaned in close. “What. Gives?”

You roll your eyes, pushing his shoulder back. “I needed a life line and Mr. Jung was nice enough to give me his coffee. So why don’t you kindly fuck off and let me drink more caffeine?” Yoongi laughs at your forced smile, but backed off nonetheless.

“Mr. Jung huh? You two seem… close.”

“I wouldn’t say close, more of I was here early and he took pity on me.”

Yoongi nodded but you could see how tense his jaw was, something he did when he was upset about something. You didn’t know why he didn’t like Hoseok, but it was a fact known throughout the company.

“You know he is a nice guy.”

“Some people say broccoli is a nice vegetable, but that doesn’t mean everyone likes it.”

“What? How does that relate to Mr. Jung?”

Yoongi shrugs. “He makes money, which is green, and so is broccoli. There you go.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Not a lot of things do.”

Yoongi sipped his coffee and logged into his computer, effectively cutting off the weird ass conversation you were having.

You shake your head. He was probably the weirdest person you had ever met and you knew Jungkook. Though no matter how much Yoongi jabs at you, you knew he had you back in almost every situation, provided that you were actually right. He would call you out on you bullshit.

Min Yoongi was a great friend and you really wouldn’t trade your friendship for anything in the world.

It was finally time for this company party and at first you were feeling alright to go, but now you were terrified as you tugged down your extremely short dress.

Something Jungkook insisted you wore. Just thinking about what took place just 40 minutes ago pissed you off.

You had come home tired and hungry, but knew you only had a short while before you had to prepare for the party. You quickly ate some leftover Chinese food and went to your room to get ready.

What did people wear to these kinds of functions? Every office party they threw was never mandated, which was why you were confused that this one was, so you just skipped them.

You skimmed through everything you had in your closet. Tight jeans, graphic tee shirts, pantsuits, but your fingers stopped at a party dress Taehyung had gotten you a few years back.

It was a white long sleeve dress that stopped at your upper thighs, the neckline plunged to meet the sash that was sewn into the dress. The reason you never wore this was that that neckline stopped just above your belly button so your breast would be on full display. Plus this was a dress that definitely required no bra so that just made it worse.

Taehyung had gotten it for you to wear to the opening of Jungkook’s tattoo shop, but it was way too fancy for that so you had opted for jeans and a shirt instead. He was so upset that you didn’t wear the dress he bought you and you had to promise him you would wear it someday.

Today was definitely not that day though.

Skipping over the dress, you pull out a tan pantsuit and a simple white plain shirt. ‘Work appropriate’ was really what you were going for. Jungkook had a different word for it.

“Oh my god please tell me you aren’t going to the party wearing that.”

You roll your eyes before going to the front door to get a pair of white sneakers. “Yes?? It’s a work party, Kook. Not a strip joint. I have no reason to dress up.”

“But there is no reason to look extra boring either. Please tell me you have something else. I beg you.”

“Nope, but keep begging. Looks good on you.” You wink and laugh as Jungkook’s face twists in disgust.

“Y/n you wouldn’t know how to dominate in the bedroom even if you tried. Even if you had the most submissive man in the would.”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to talk about our sex lives.”

“Well mine yes, but yours is nonexistent so it’s fi- Hey! That could have hit me!”

Jungkook had just dodged out of the way of his shoe you sent flying his way.

“Well then I’ll try to aim better next time.” You hiss.

“Touchy.” Jungkook slumped back onto the couch, accepting defeat and not wanting another shoe thrown at him.

Smiling triumphantly, you slip on your sneakers and open the door, but to only be blocked by Taehyung. By the looks of his raised fist, he had just gotten here. His pink and blond hair was tousled by the wind and he sported his usual Gucci everything. Taehyung always looked so good it was no wonder that he was the gayest man you had ever met in your life.

“Oh my god please tell me you aren’t going to the party wearing that.”

You scowl as Jungkook yells a ‘thank you’ from the living room. Jungkook jumped up from the couch and made his way over to the two of you. Smiling, he immediately places a kiss on Taehyung’s lips. You would be happy to see them so comfortable together if they both hadn’t just said the same thing about your outfit.

“Well just like I told your boyfriend here, yes I am. There is nothing wrong with this outfit! Now if you excuse me I’m going to be late.”

You tried to push past them, but Taehyung grabbed your shoulders, spinning you around and back into the house.

“Then you will just be late. I am not letting you out like that.”

And apparently you didn’t have much of a choice because not long after that Taehyung, with help from Jungkook, had you in that short white party dress with a silver choker around your neck, matching studded earring and necklace set, and a pair of silver heels. He had even taken your hair out of it’s ponytail, letting it fall down your shoulders before he curled it and did your makeup.

Honestly you looked stunning, but always being one to blend in with the crowd, it scared you. You really wanted to turn around and go home, consequences be damned, but you knew that Taekook would just send you back.

Taking a deep breath, you went into the Millennium Hilton where the party was being held, finally accepting - and grateful - that your friends made you dress up a little more since Hoseok had last minute decided to change the venue.

The Millennium Hilton hotel was just beautiful on the inside. Your heels clicked on the floor, which looked like it could be marble. Why did Hoseok decide to hold such a minor party in the fanciest place you had ever seen in your life? It seemed out of place to do so. Maybe closing this deal with Mono Corp. was more important than you realized.

You looked around the grand entrance, confused on where to go. All Hoseok told you was to be here instead of the corporate office. He really should have been more specific or you know not change the venue last second. Who does that? Jung Hoseok apparently.

“You look lost.” A deep voice said from right behind you.

You quickly turned around, losing your balance in the process (stupid fucking heels), but before hitting the floor and completely making a fool out of yourself, not that it could be even possible, a pair of hands found your waist, steadying you. Dark brown eyes met yours as you realized it was Hoseok who had caught you.

With him being so up close you could smell that damned cologne that he was wearing this morning; sandalwood mixed with a natural underlying smell that you assume was just Hoseok.

You vaguely wondered if he would smell just as manly fresh out of the shower. The water glistened down his chest, dripping closer and closer to his towel covered cock.

His fingers dug into your waist, slowly bringing you out of yet another Hoseok daydream, but quickly enough to catch his eyes trail down the open part of your dress. He seemed to appreciate the view by the way he bit his lip.

“Sorry.” You breathe. “I’m not used to heels.”

Hoseok chuckled, his fingers lightly moving to the small of your back, causing a shiver up your spine. “Then allow me to escort you.” You nod as he starts towards the grand ballroom.

It was quiet for a little while, which was almost unbearable, so you had to think of something to say. Anything! The weather? God that was so cliché. How good he looks in his suit? No way that would lead to a very different inappropriate conversation.

“So why the fancy party? It could have just been held at the office.”

Questioning his decisions. Great choice.

Hoseok grins, not offended in the least. “I know it was a last minute change, but I figured if I was going to make this party mandated might as well go big-“

“Or go home.” You finish. Hoseok’s grin grew, seemingly happy that you knew what he was thinking.

“Exactly.”

Hoseok opened a pair of double doors to reveal a gigantic ballroom. Crystal chandeliers hung all over the ceiling, giving off this almost unreal type feeling. Your co-workers were everywhere, wearing fancy dresses and tuxes, but they stopped when the doors opened.

All eyes were on you and Hoseok.

“They’re all staring.” You whisper.

“Yes.” He whispered back. “But they’re all staring at you.”

Before you could even get a response out, Hoseok released his light touch on you back, instantly making you miss his touch, and left to greet all of his guests.

You watched him leave, sad that he was going, but appreciative of how his ass looked in those pants.

Jung Hoseok always did something to you.

“Wipe the drool, y/n. It makes you look desperate.” Yoongi snapped from beside you, caused you to jump a little.

You flushed, checking your mouth for any drool (which there wasn’t, but whatever), before looking at Yoongi. Your eyes widen at the sight before you.

Yoongi’s dark brown hair was combed neatly to the side and he actually wore a suit and tie. Silver hoops hung from both his ears and silver rings adorn his fingers.

“You clean up nicely, Mr. Min.”

Yoongi scoffs and shakes his head, smiling nonetheless. “You can’t change the subject. You were drooling.”

“Was not.”

“You look beautiful.”

You expected him to continue bickering with you, but were thrown off by the complement. Yoongi wasn’t one to hand them out lightly which was why your heart clenched. Nothing else. Right?

“Thank you.”

You didn’t know what else to say other than that. Yoongi understood your awkwardness when it comes to compliments, secretly enjoying the way you got flustered. He extended his hand, taking yours in his and led you out to one of the tables.

“Shall we drink?” Yoongi handed you a glass of champagne. It wasn’t often that you drank, but this was a special occasion so you took the glass from his hand, throwing all caution to the wind.

After that first drink you started to loosen up a little. One turned into two and that quickly turned into four glasses. You were enjoying the dance floor with Yoongi, who by this point was almost as hammered as you, considering he found himself talking to the wall on occasions. He soon switched to just drinking water.

You swayed alone on the dance floor, eyes searching the crowd before they landed on Hoseok moving towards you.

His eyes were even darker than they usually were, they trailed down your figure causing you to flush. Hoseok was so blatantly checking you out and you were enjoying the attention.

“Enjoying the party?” He asked when he reached you, the smell of his cologne starting to over power you again.

All you could do was nod, paralyzed by his gaze and dazzling smile. “May I have this dance?”

While the sober part of you was screaming how inappropriate this was and how you should run the other way, the more intoxicated part of you that wanted to feel his hands on your body again was stronger.

Hoseok took your hand into his, placing his hand around your waist, and began dancing. His fingers burned your skin and the feel of him ignited a flame in your belly. Just being this close to him, no matter how inappropriate it may be and no matter how many people were staring at you, was intoxicating.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you how stunning you look in that dress.” Hoseok whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Something he didn’t miss.

He pulled you closer to his body, his half hard cock pressing into your stomach causing you to gasp lightly. “And seeing you with all that exposed skin, y/n. You don’t know what you do to me.”

God of the alcohol wasn’t already clouding your judgment than Hoseok’s words and sent was. You lick your lips, feeling the excitement of his eyes following it. “What do you mean, Sir?”

Hoseok groaned. “Why don’t you come with me and I’ll show you?”

“Yes sir.” You answer obediently.

Hoseok grabs your hand and quickly leads you out of the ballroom. He heads straight to the elevator, pushing the button. Soon the doors slid open and the two of you were hidden inside.

The moment they closed you were on him, unable to hold back the need to feel his lips on yours. At first it was just all tongue and teeth, but Hoseok soon took charge by placing his hands in your hair, tugging it back so you could look at his lust blown eyes.

They held a fire that you had never seen before and honestly it turned you on. Just thinking about what this man was going to do made you ooze arousal.

“We aren’t even out of the elevator yet.” Hoseok tsks. “Such a desperate little slut aren’t you?” His fingers grip your hair harder, the action starting to hurt a little.

“Please. Please I’m so sorry.” You whimper.

Hoseok smirks, releasing you as the door opens to a penthouse. You didn’t even stop to think about how he rented this room out so quickly. You didn’t want to think about if he had planned to take another woman up here tonight.

He walked over to the couch, turning when he realized you weren’t following him.

“Y/n. Do you want this?”

You nod, almost too afraid to make a sound, but Hoseok shook his head.

“I need to hear it baby girl. Do you want this?” He repeated.

“Yes.”

“Then come here. Now.”

The tone in his voice had you obeying him immediately, rushing to his side. Hoseok loosened his tie before looking at you expectantly, smiling as you turn around, your wrist criss crossed behind your back.

It was like the two of you were in sync. Had been since the day you met, but now it was so intense yet comforting at the same time.

Hoseok ties the tie securely around your wrists, tugging them for good measure, before turning you around.

“On your knees.” He growled.

The wood floor was cold as you dropped to your knees before him. You press your thighs together, praying for some kind of relief, the throbbing of your pussy was too much for you as you whimper again.

“My little cock slut. Look at you, so willing to do anything I tell you. I bet your cunt is just soaking isn’t it.”

You didn’t say anything, only stared at him with wide and pleading eyes. Hoseok raises his hand only to bring it down harshly against your cheek, the force knocking you to the ground.

“I asked you a fucking question, slut.”

“Yes sir.” You whine, the ache in your cheek and the power he extrudes only intensifying your arousal.

“‘Yes sir’ what.” Hoseok hisses, bending down to grab you by your hair, yanking you up to meet his face, pulling a moan out of your throat.

“Yes sir, my cunt is soaked for you.”

Hoseok releases you before standing at full height and unzipping the fly on his suit, pulling down his pants and boxers just enough for his now fully hard cock to spring free. Precum leaked from the tip, your mouth just watering at the sight. You never before thought a dick could look this appetizing, but here you were just hoping he would allow you to suck him off.

Hoseok chuckled darkly at the hopeful look in your eyes, equally as excited at the thought of your pretty lips wrapped around him. “Go on then, slut. I’m sure you know what to do with a cock. I’ve heard all the stories about you.”

You wanted to question him about that, but right now you had a much bigger thing on your mind.

You got back up onto your knees, regaining some kind of balance before wrapping your hand around the base of Hoseok’s cock, loving the way he hissed at the sudden contact. He felt so hot and heavy in your hand.

You begin to pump one hand up and down his shaft, making sure to gather some of his precum to make your hand slide smoother and paying attention to certain things that made Hoseok’s face twist in pleasure.

Hoseok groaned the moment you leaned down and swirled your tongue on his sensitive tip, slowly pushing your head down to engulf his cock. The salty taste of him was something you found yourself growing addicted to.

Slowly you bobbed your head, your tongue tracing the vain on the underside of his cock. You got into a good rhythm, enjoying sucking Hoseok’s cock for all that it’s worth, but of course he had to show you that he was still the one in charge here.

Hoseok gripped your hair once more, one hand on each side of your hair, looking you straight in the eyes.

“Deep breaths, baby.”

Before you could even think to take said breath, Hoseok plunges his cock straight into the back of your throat, your face meeting his pelvis.

Uncomfortable at first, but after a few shallow thrusts and you relaxing your jaw, it got a bit more tolerable.

Hoseok grunts and groans as he continued to face fuck you to oblivion. He enjoyed watching the tears in your eyes and the spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth as you took his cock. His good little cock slut.

After a few thrusts, he felt himself getting close, his balls tightening in anticipation, but he wanted to come inside of your cunt not your mouth as tempting as it was.

Just as you were getting used to being a human flesh light the next thing you knew Hoseok had pulled you off his cock - thankfully allowing you to catch your breath, which the air burned your lungs from how hard you were trying to suck it in - and thrown over his shoulder, his hand pushing your already short dress up your ass and your lacy black panties down your legs.

You gasp as the sudden cold air from the room hit your hot cunt, a shiver running up your spine, but you didn’t know if that was because of the cold or all the possibilities of what was about to happen.

Hoseok tossed you onto the bed. Thankfully it was really soft, but the look he fixed you with was not.

“Strip.” He commanded and you were once again quick to obey him, taking everything off, starting with those damned heels and finally your dress, which luckily had a hidden zip in the front. You were extremely happy that this dress didn’t require a bra.

All while you were early stripping, Hoseok was as well. He had quickly taken off his entire suite along with his boxers. Now there was nothing stopping you from seeing him and all his glory.

You knew he was built well, but he usually wore bulkier suits so you couldn’t see the outline of his hard body.

You bit your lip, praying he would come and fuck you already.

Hoseok crawled onto the bed - a predator stalking its prey. His hungry eyes raking over your entire body, hands trailing up your legs until they were at your waist where he gripped them, pulling you closer to him.

You moan as his hard cock comes into contact with your pussy. You could just feel the head poking your entrance.

You wiggle your hips, trying to get him to just slip in already, desperate to feel him stretch your walls, but Hoseok digs his fingers into your hips causing you to whimper.

“Patience my little cock slut. You’ll get your reward for being so good.” He teasingly pushes his tip just in a little bit, enjoying the way you squirm and whine.

“Please sir! I've been good! You said so yourself! So please plea-“

Your words turn into a scream as Hoseok pushes into you, the pain was almost excruciating, but thankfully you were wet enough to help. You had forgotten to warn him that you were a virgin, so he had no way of knowing. You didn’t blame him, you blamed yourself and the alcohol.

Hoseok stilled while you adjusted to his size, but that was difficult for him because you were so tight and warm around him. He just wanted to ruin you. Pound you into the bed until you didn’t know anyone else’s name but his.

After a while all of that pain turned into euphoric pleasure. You squeezed your walls around Hoseok, pulling a hiss from his lips.

“Don’t test me baby.” He growls.

You moan, back arching into him. “Please Hoseok. Move. Fuck me!”

“With pleasure.” Hoseok smirks before gripping your hips harder and thrusting into you, you cry out at the feeling of him. Never in your life did you ever think you would experience this kind of pleasure before.

Hoseok repeatedly pounds into you, his own low grunts fueling your fire. You mewl and moan, raising your hips to meet each thrust. Soon the sound of skin against skin and your moans filled the room, Hoseok’s name seeming to be the only thing you could call out.

Hoseok lifted your hips at the perfect angle to that spot that just made you see stars. You moan loudly, encouraging him to hit there again and to not stop.

“Fuck baby girl, I’m close.” Hoseok groans, thrusting harder.

“M me too.” You moan, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten and tighten until it finally gave way, pushing you over the edge.

You scream Hoseok’s name, wrapping your arms around his shoulder, clawing into them as if they were the only thing grounding you to reality.

Hoseok hissed at the feeling of your nails scraping hair back and your cunt tightening around him, but he continued to thrust, helping you through your orgasm before succumbing to his own pleasure. He groans loudly as he cums, thick white ropes shooting inside of you, filling you up.

You both just stay like that for a little bit, all sweaty and panting. Hoseok eventually pulled out of you and you imminently missed the feel of him inside you, missing the feeling of being so full.

He flops down beside you on the bed, his eyes already starting to drop, slowly slipping into the sweet temptation of sleep. You chuckle watching him drift off, yourself not far behind him.

In the back of your head you had a nagging feeling something bad was going to happen, you had just slept with your boss, but that was a problem for tomorrow’s you. For now, sleep was calling your name and you followed it.

Tag List: @sunshine-procrastinate @sugalarity

#jung hoseok #jung hoseok x reader #hoseok x reader #jung hosoek smut #bts x reader #bts smut #bts x reader smut #hoseok x reader smut #jung hoseok x reader smut #bts imagines #bts imagine #bts scenarios #tbtsstuff #Personnel

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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 4 years

Text

Off Limits (Spencer Reid) #3

Well, here is chapter 3. It is a little longer than the previous two. enjoy!!

Previous Chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Tag List: @on-my-way-to-erebor , @haileymorelikestupid ,

NOT MY GIF

*******************************************************************************************

Soon after Spencer and Ava’s conversation had ended (well had been interrupted), the group were packing their things. They received a case from Seattle, WA and would be leaving on the jet in half an hour. They didn’t know how long they would be out there. It all depended on when the case was solved. Spencer and Ava were both disappointed. They had no idea of when they would see each other again. It could be a couple days, to a couple weeks. Hotch had left another assignments list should she finish the first and they aren’t back yet. She would have plenty to do while they were gone. Plenty to keep her mind off Spencer.

One day went by.. then two… and three… Ava had been keeping up with the case through Penelope. She was the only one who stays behind to work magic at her computer. Being their eyes and ears. Ava sat in the chair situated in the corner of Penelope’s office, watching her work. She answered a call from Morgan, “What can I do for you sweet face?”

“Hey baby doll, we need a location for a lead. His name is Bryant Jameson.” She started typing really fast, clicking away and mumbling to herself before finally finding it, “Location is 143 52nd street.”

“You never fail me baby girl,” He hung up quickly after that.

“So, how’s the case going?” Asked Ava, hoping for a positive reply, that they would be heading home soon. She missed talking with Spencer. He and Penelope were the only ones she’s become closer to.

“They should be home tomorrow if this lead doesn’t fall through.” Penelope turned in her chair to face Ava. “You sure are concerned about the case.” She raised a questionable eyebrow, twirling her pen.

Ava blushed a little and played it off, “Just curious is all. I’ve never been around this kind of stuff.”

Penelope nodded, not fully believing her. “So, you and Reid, you guys have hit it off, haven’t you?” she pushed.

“Yeah, he’s cool to talk too. He helped with stacking boxes the other day.” She brushed it off like nothing, at least hoping she did. However, she failed. Penelope could see right through her.

“Oh girl, we know. We saw you guys in the file room, giggling and talking like high school love birds.” Penelope joked, smirking, only causing Ava to blush more. Then, Penelope went serious, pointing her fluffy pen at Ava, “Just be careful about all that, okay? Hotch doesn’t allow relationships between co-workers within BAU. It makes things complicated.”

Luckily, the lead didn’t fall through and they were back in the office the next morning. Ava wanted to talk with Reid about the case and hear all about it, but she kept her distance, remembering Penelope’s warning. Spencer had noticed Ava became more distanced since he arrived back at work. They were fine when he left, talking when they got the chance, whether in the kitchen, copy room, or just walking by each other’s desk, what had changed? She had been busy all morning, or at least looking like it. She finally took a break and headed for the kitchen. Spencer took this chance to talk with her.

“Hey Ava.” Spencer entered the kitchen and put his hands in his pockets. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard him. This whole distance thing was going to be hard.

“Hey Reid. How was the trip?”

He walked to the fridge, pulling out a water, “it was good. Glad we caught the guy.”

Ava gave him a quick smile and continued making her coffee. Something’s wrong. He could tell. He furrowed his brows, “are you okay?”

She looked back up at him and nodded, hoping to convince him, “Yeah, I’m great.”

A lie. He’s an intelligent man, he can read right through people. He knows somethings wrong but didn’t want to push her. “Okay… well I guess I’ll let you get back to work.” He solemnly left and walked back to his desk, grabbing his jacket and mumbling to Morgan, “I’m going out to lunch.”

Ava had a crush on Spencer. She knew this and knew she shouldn’t. Dating co-workers was off limits. He is just too cute though. How could she resist him?

It had been a week since the kitchen conversation, and nothing had changed. They talked less throughout the day. It was only short conversations here and there. Both of them hated it. Spencer still didn’t know what had changed or if he had done something wrong to upset her. So on Friday morning on his way into work, he stopped by his favorite coffee shop and decided he would pick one up for Ava. Two and half teaspoons of sugar and splash of cream.

He walked into the office, two coffees in hand, his tan messenger bag hung over his shoulder. She had glanced up when she heard him say good morning to Morgan, but looked back down at her computer. Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone approach her desk. “I stopped on my way in and figured you might want one too.” He set the coffee next to her, giving a small smile.

He had brought her a coffee. Oh, come on Spencer, you aren’t making this any easier for her. She couldn’t resist it; coffee was her weakness. And so was Spencer’s damn smile. She tried to hold back a smile and took a sip of the coffee, savoring the taste. It was made just the way she liked it. How the heck did he know? Finally, she caved and smiled up at him, “it’s made just the way I like it. You must keep tabs on me.” She teased, causing him to blush, “Thank you.”

He nodded, “Good morning by the way. That now-storm is supposed to be coming in this evening.”

“I had heard about that. Maybe we’ll get snowed in together.” She meant it as a joke, taking a sip of her coffee, but it made his heart flutter. The thought of being snowed in with her, alone, being able to talk to her for hours… Uninterrupted. She had to admit, the thought was tempting. Stop it Ava.

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” he gave a quick wink and headed for his desk. It was his turn to make her blush and heart flutter.

About 5 hours later, Hotch came out of his office and ordered everyone to go home before the storm got bad. Ava was in the middle of working on a spreadsheet. She couldn’t stop, nor could she take the work home. Number one rule. Nothing leaves this office. “Sir, I only need another hour. I’m almost done.” She pleaded, staying one more hour wouldn’t hurt. It’s not like it would be that bad. Hotch agreed to let her stay, “One-hour Ava. No spreadsheet is worth your safety.” He said sternly. She nodded and quickly got back to work. Everyone had headed out. Except for one person; Spencer.

Spencer had just started the paperwork for the last case, and he was behind. He decided to stay for another hour to continue working on it. He didn’t even realize everyone had left. He was in the zone. Ava was the only one left still at her desk working. She had been so quiet; he hadn’t even noticed.

“Fuck!” She whispered angrily, typing angrily on the keyboard. He chuckled quietly to himself. She was cute when she was angry.

“Hitting on the keyboard like that won’t make it work better.”

She jumped, startled. She had been zoned in on the computer and didn’t realize anyone else had stayed to work. “Geez Reid, I didn’t even know anyone else was here.”

He chuckled, “I decided to stay a little longer. I only just started on this paperwork from the last case and I am super behind.” He stood and headed over to her desk, “What seems to be the problem?”

“I can’t get the fucking thing to organize the information correctly. I need it in this order, but it won’t let me.” She slid back from her desk a little, letting him peek at the computer. He leaned down and started typing and clicking around. She watched as he worked, concentrated on the monitor. A little of his tongue stuck out in concentration. She got a whiff of his cologne, it smelled woodsy with a hint of pine and mint. Tempting.

“and… there you go. All done.” He smiled stepping back, proudly.

“How… how did you?” Ava looked at the computer confused. She had been working on this for the last 20 minutes and got nowhere.

“You didn’t have the tab clicked yes.” He laughed, crossing his arms “It has to be clicked to yes for it to change.”

She groaned and face palmed. “it’s been a long day.” She leaned back in her chair and rubbed her temples.

“Why don’t you head home?” He questioned, pulling a chair up next to her.

“Because I want to finish this. I can’t leave things unfinished. I need to finish before I leave.”

He nodded and glanced at her desk, noticing the picture of the cat, “That is a fat cat.” He stated, laughing, causing her to laugh too. She grabbed the frame and handed to him. “That would be my cat Smokie. And yes, she is a very fat cat.”

He glanced over the picture, “you do know it is dangerous for cats to be overweight? Very unhealthy. It leads to a number of diseases.” He set the picture back where it was.

“Yes, which is why she is on a diet now.” She laughed and pulled herself closer to her desk, ready to get back to work.

“Good. Well, I will let you get back to work.” He stood and headed for his desk, getting back to work. He would work until she left. He didn’t want her alone in the building.

About half an hour later, Ava stood and stretched exclaiming, “Finally!”

“Done?” He asked, straightening the files on his desk.

“Yes, finally.” She started tidying up her desk, shutting down her computer. He had been done with his work for a while but didn’t want to leave her. He watched her start to put on her coat.

He looked out the window and saw the blanket of white snow falling. He stood to put his coat on as well. Come on spencer grow a pair, be a man.

“Ava, do you want to go get something to eat with me?” He blurted, before he had the time to chicken out.

It took her by surprise that she stopped putting on her coat and looked at him. Had he just asked her out? Had she really heard him right?

“What?” She asked, wanting to make sure she heard him right.

“Do you want to go get dinner... with me?” He glanced down and back up at her.

She grinned. She had heard him right. Her stomach grumbled at the thought of food, “Yes. I would love too.”

Both continued slipping on coats, hats, gloves and scarfs and headed out the door to brace the storm. He knew of a place close by. It was small hole in the wall, but they had great soup and soup seemed like the perfect meal to have with weather like this. He guided her to the restaurant, letting her wrap her arm around his, holding onto the crook of his elbow. He didn’t want her to slip on any snow. She still couldn’t believe he had asked her out to dinner and that she was holding onto his arm as he guided her to the restaurant.

Later that night after dinner, the snow fall had calmed.They managed to get a cab and pulled up infront of her place.

“Well this is me.” She smiled and turned to him, pulling her keys out of her purse.

He nodded, “I’ll walk you to the door.” He told the driver to wait and they both stepped out and up the stairs to the door of her townhouse.

“I had a great time tonight.” He slid his hands in his pockets. He noticed her nose had turned a shade of pink from the cold.

She turned to face him and fixed her glasses back on her nose, sniffling, “Yeah me too.” She glanced back at her door, then at him, contemplating inviting him in for tea or coffee. Maybe she should wait. She didn’t get a chance to even make that decision before he spoke, “I would love to do it again. Go out to eat,” he smiled.

She bit her bottom lip and nodded, smiling, “I would love that..” They quickly exchanged numbers before saying goodbye. He walked down the stairs and got back into the cab, heading home.

Later that night before she went to bed, her phoned dinged. It was a text from Spencer.

Are you free for dinner tomorrow?

She grinned and slipped into bed, texting back: Yes:)

Soon after her phoned dinged again, Great. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 6:30. Sleep tight.

She couldn’t contain her excitement. She knew she shouldn’t be excited. They shouldn’t be doing this. But it was only dinner, what could it hurt?

He had finally found the courage to ask her out and that dinner tonight was amazing. They talked and laughed the whole time. Like old friends who have known each other for years, like they clicked with each other and like it was meant to be. The last week of barely speaking was a blur. He didn’t care. They spoke all night at dinner and now, he had another date with her tomorrow. He couldn’t wait. That night he slept soundly, knowing he would see her again.

*******************************************************************************************

And we have an official date!! Seems like they hit it off pretty good at dinner. Wonder how the next date will go ;)

Also, let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list for future chapters!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #imagine #imagines #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds one shots #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid one shots

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sodone-withlife · 3 years

Text

glass is fragile

Criminal Minds Fic Part Two

| PART 1 | PART 2 |

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: implied character death

Notes: cross-posted on Ao3. this is the result of a random idea I had because while I love Hotchniss, I love the idea of the two meeting in college and keeping in contact with Hotch being an overprotective brother

fortuna vitrea est; tum cum splendet frangitur (fortune is glass; just when it gleams brightest it shatters) - Publilius Syrus

“I’ve got five names on the bottom of the list Prentiss gave us,” Morgan said, walking towards the case board. “Luke Renault, Lawrence Riley, Lyla Rafferty, Lyle Rogers, Landon Raines.”

“All with the initials L.R.” Seaver pointed out.

“The CIA uses cryptograms like that to assign non-official cover agents working the same case,” Hotch remarked.

“So do other foreign countries,” Morgan added. “These last five names are covers—spies,” he said, pointing at the document.

“Wait,” Garcia said, taking the document. “No, this isn’t right,” she said, pointing at the page. “Do you see this space? That shouldn’t be here.”

“Could it be a formatting error?” Reid asked.

“No, this is a spreadsheet template,” Garcia answered. “Formatting doesn’t allow for this, there’s a missing name on here.”

“It’s another spy whose cover is L.R.” Hotch said quietly, looking to the elevator and mentally preparing to give the looming long-winded explanation.

“‘Lauren Reynolds is dead,’” Reid said aloud behind him.

“What?” Hotch turned around in shock, having not heard that name spoken aloud in years.

“‘Lauren Reynolds is dead,’” Reid repeated, “Prentiss said that on a phone call seventeen days ago, but her intonation wasn’t surprise or grief, it was like a mantra, like she was reminding herself.”

As Reid continued talking, Hotch pulled out his phone and dialed her number, hoping like hell his hunch about what she's doing is just that—a hunch.

“If Prentiss is the last name on that list, she’s on Doyle’s list, too,” Seaver said.

Hotch followed the sound of a ringtone to Emily’s desk and opened the first drawer. “Guys,” he cut into the team’s discussion, holding the gun and badge she’d left behind out for them to see.

“She left her badge and gun? Why would she do that?” Morgan asked, confused. Hotch placed them back down and grabbed his other phone, pulling up his messages.

<< It’s T, isn’t it.

>>He’s going after us, he’s threatened the others.

<<Blackbird.

<<Where are you?

<<What are you doing?

>>I’m sorry.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Reid turned back to the others, uncomprehending. “Why run? We’re her family, we can help.”

“Doyle’s killing families,” Rossi pointed out in realization. “She’s not married, not close to relatives—”

“Last night, Doyle verbally threatened to kill us,” Hotch said, looking up as his worry for Emily’s safety returned in full force.

“How do you know that?” Morgan asked suspiciously. In response, Hotch held out his phone and played the recording Emily had sent over last night.

“Aaron, Doyle mentioned all of us except you. Why?” Rossi asked, noting the distinct lack of any threat directed at the unit chief. Hotch didn’t answer, looking out through the glass doors towards the elevators. The others followed his line of sight.

“JJ?” Garcia stood up and dashed over to the long-missed blonde, who was standing in the doorway.

“I’ve called the State Department for permission to have someone come over and shed light on Emily’s past. Officially, I can’t tell you anything,” Hotch told the profilers who were staring in shock, “but JJ can.”

~~~

“Okay, so I talked to a friend from Langley, he couldn’t give me Emily’s full CIA history, but he could give me this,” JJ said, turning to the TV screen. “She assumed the identity of Lauren Reynolds as part of a special task force called JTF-12.”

“I heard about them,” Rossi remarked, “They were profiling terrorists, weren’t they?”

“Yeah,” JJ answered. “Assembled after 9/11, CIA and Western agencies contributed their ‘best and brightest’.”

“But serial killers and terrorists have different personality traits,” Seaver pointed out.

“How does Doyle fit in?” Reid asked.

“He was their last case,” JJ said, “and now the JTF is on his hit list.”

“Jeremy Wolff was victim number one, from Germany’s BND,” she began, focusing on the pictures on the screen. “Sean McAlister at Interpol was the second and was the one who brought the JTF in on Doyle. He was murdered last week in Brussels with his wife and daughter,” JJ said softly, flicking a brief look at Hotch, who had squashed down his reaction.

“Tsia Mosely of France’s DCRI—she got engaged to Jeremy earlier this year and fled here when he died,” JJ continued and sent another look at Hotch, who took a breath and steeled himself for the barrage of accusations and questions he was sure to get.

His picture appeared on the screen.

“Hotch?” They turned to look at him in confused shock.

“It wasn’t my prerogative to tell you,” he moved around the table and took the remote from JJ, looking at the other profilers. “None of you had the clearance for this, and there wasn’t time between the numerous phone calls I had to make in order to get JJ back here.”

“I understand you have questions, but we need to focus on Emily,” he said firmly, turning to the screen. “Clyde Easter of the British SIS was the leader. I’ve talked to him over the phone twice and he was in DC last I heard, but I haven’t been able to get a hold of him since Tsia’s murder.”

“You were involved in the Doyle case?” Rossi asked. Are you safe? went unasked but was heard by everyone.

“I’m well aware of the danger I am in,” Hotch said, “but if I’m right, he’s going to be too fixated on Emily to care much about me, though I’ve had precautions in place since we first found out he escaped.”

“Did you ever make any arrests? Maybe that’s why he’s after you?”

“No, the host countries always took care of that and we just moved onto the next case. Given the shadowy nature of terrorist cells, we were mostly involved in infiltration.”

“Who was undercover on Doyle?” Reid asked.

“Emily,” JJ answered.“She posed as another weapons dealer and met him in Boston to get intel on Valhalla.” JJ paused, looking at Hotch apprehensively.

He took over, knowing what she was hung up on. “The recon we did on Doyle included a background on all of his previous romantic relationships, and… ” he trailed off, hesitating, “she’s exactly his type.”

~~~

“Prissy, where the hell are you?”

“Oh, is that worry that I hear, Iceman?”

“Blackbird’s in Boston, isn’t she.”

“Is that a question?”

~~~

“Emily walked into a trap,” Garcia said shakily, pointing at the screen. “It looks like Doyle got into the SUV, but from this angle, you can see that he didn’t, which I wish Boston PD would have told me before I started watching it.” She looked at the others apologetically. “Sorry again for the screaming.”

“She threw a flash-bang grenade into a car,” Morgan said incredulously. “She’s lucky the three people inside didn’t die. Is anybody else bothered by that?”

“Well, three bad guys,” Rossi pointed out.

“Illegal as it is, when you’re dealing with the likes of Doyle, who has nothing to lose,” Hotch said softly, staring into space, “you have to be as ruthless as he is and act the same way.”

“So how did Doyle know she was waiting for him?” Rossi asked.

“Well, the mole must have told him, right?” JJ suggested. “The same guy who’s been feeding Doyle the contractors and agents?”

“And our best suspect was just arrested with a suitcase full of cash,” Seaver said.

“Let me take care of Prissy—Clyde,” Hotch amended when the nickname garnered him strange looks. “The rest of you focus on Doyle’s location.”

“I hate to be the one to ask this,” Garcia hesitantly spoke up, looking to Hotch. “But how long does Emily have?”

He remained silent for a moment. “Doyle saved her for last because she is his stressor—she had an intimate connection with him,” Hotch blew out a breath and focused his gaze on the analyst. “He’ll take his time.”

A horrified silence fell over the group. He stood up, unable to bear the heavy tension and fear, and walked into the jet’s bathroom. He leaned on the counter for support and took a few deep breaths, trying not to spiral into a panic.

“How long have you known Emily?” Rossi asked quietly, having followed behind him.

“Fall of ‘89,” he answered, feeling faint amusement at the older man’s surprise. “Yale; I was an ambitious law school student while she was a goth sophomore student. We saw each other again when I did some work for the Ambassador, then again when JTF was formed. Clyde always referred to me as the overprotective big brother even though she’s a year older than me.”

“Did you know about Emily and…?” Rossi trailed off, unsure as to how he should phrase the question.

“I had my suspicions,” Hotch admitted. “I wasn’t there to see her after she was extracted, but I talked to her afterward, and something was definitely different.”

~~~

“October 2006. ‘In closing, I have never worked with a finer agent than Emily Prentiss. Her skill at analyzing and predicting terrorist behavior is unparalleled.’ Signed, name redacted,” Hotch looked up at the Englishman. “I knew something was off when I read her personnel file those years ago. Buzz words, the like—you sold her to the bureau just like you sold Doyle to the North Koreans.”

Clyde remained silent as Hotch continued to stare at him. “It takes a skilled sociopath to betray his team and the cause he held dear for self-preservation.”

He leaned forward, expression dark. “If anything happens to Emily, I swear I will destroy you, our past history be damned.”

Finally shifting in his spot, Clyde sent an appraising look over Hotch. “You were the best,” he said, “but you’re slipping. I’m disappointed.”

Hotch looked at him dispassionately. “My team and I will get Doyle with or without you. Pack lightly—Guantanamo gets humid.”

He turned away as Clyde chuckled behind him. “Nice try,” the Englishman said, “but I’m curious. If I’m the sociopath, then I should feel no empathy, correct?”

“Oh, you’re not the sociopath,” Hotch corrected him, turning around at the doorway. “Doyle is.”

He carefully looked Clyde up and down. “Weren’t you a better profiler?”

~~~

“Did you know Jeremy sold the list to Doyle?” Hotch asked, sitting across from Clyde.

“I had my suspicions,” Clyde admitted casually.

“So when you got to DC, you couldn’t trust Tsia, either. Emily and I read your doubt as duplicity,” Hotch said, leaning forward. “Emily is in trouble, and you need to help me brief the team on the original profile so we can combine that with who he is now as a serial killer.”

“Aaron, you know that Doyle is going to escape from one of your American prisons as easily as he did in North Korea,” Clyde retorted. “There is no catching that man, you have to put a bullet in his brain yourself.” He looked at Hotch seriously. “You, as an FBI agent, took an oath to protect the laws of your country. Can you break your oath, Agent Hotchner?”

Hotch shook his head, understanding his intent and opting for a different answer.

“I can take one.”

There was a knock on the door, which opened to show JJ. “The British consul’s here,” she told the men.

“Could you tell him I’ll be right out?” Clyde requested, not looking away from Hotch. “I’m consulting with the BAU on a case.”

~~~

The profilers stood around quickly set up table and case boards in the Boston field office, Clyde and Hotch at the head of the table.

“Ian Doyle is a power-assertive psychopath. Highly controlling and very explosive when something doesn’t go as planned,” Clyde informed them.

“Okay, so how does this fit in with who he is as a family annihilator?” Seaver asked.

“And Prentiss’ role in it,” Rossi added.

“Annihilators have a romanticized view of who their family is,” Reid suggested.

“Actually,” Hotch interrupted, “he was an orphan.”

“Well, they think of family as their possession until some law shatters that and starts them killing,” Morgan offered.

“Doyle was never married,” Clyde said.

“Children?” Rossi asked.

“No.”

“You run your profile that he carried out his murders with surgical-like precision,” Reid interjected, holding out a photo of the dead child.

“Yeah.”

“With no collateral damage,” Morgan continued, which Clyde and Hotch confirmed.

Rossi looked up, an idea coming to him. “Perhaps this child was a surrogate for one he had.”

“Say Doyle had a child and you didn’t know about it,” Seaver suggested hypothetically, turning to Clyde. “Is it possible that Prentiss did?”

“Then why would she keep it from me?” Clyde asked as if the idea was inconceivable. Hotch raised an eyebrow and let out a scoff, earning himself a look from the Englishman.

“First name Declan,” Hotch told Garcia, ignoring Clyde. “Adoptive guardian Louise Jones, Doyle’s housekeeper. Emily moved them here to Boston eight years ago and she told me she made sure they’re safe. Anything beyond that, a last name, I don’t know.”

“Declan and his mother went missing seven years ago,” Garcia said, typing rapidly. “Bodies were never found… wait, what’s this?” Multiple pictures popped up on her screen. “God, someone took pictures of them being shot,” she said, horrified.

“Is there an address?” Hotch demanded.

“That looks like a warehouse,” Garcia said as she entered in the specifiers. “It’s gotta be big enough to house a small army. That’s weapons, supplies, let’s see, which means it has its own perimeter…” she trailed off, hitting enter. “1518 Adams Street,” she read from her screen.

“Hold on, look at the photos,” Reid interjected, taking a closer look at the screen.

“It’s black clothing and a hand, Reid,” Morgan said, confused.

“No, look at the fingernails,” he corrected, pointing to the screen.

Garcia let out a gasp as she realized what Reid was talking about. “Oh my god.”

~~~

“Agent Prentiss is the only friendly in the building,” Hotch briefed the listening agents, ballistics vest on. “Rescuing her is our primary objective.”

“Our only advantage here is stealth,” Morgan said. “Once they know we’re on site, there’s nothing to stop them from killing her, so we keep it quiet until we get to her… ”

~~~

“Cut the power.”

~~~

“I got her!”

~~~

“Come on, stay with me!”

~~~

“She never made it off the table.”

~~~

“You really didn’t have to do this.”

“She’s my friend, and so are you. I want to protect her and make sure you don’t fall under this weight.”

~~~

<< Stay safe

>>You too

~~~

“Prissy, where are you hiding out right now?”

“Good to hear from you too, Iceman. The Golden City. oh, and I know she’s alive.”

“Glad to hear your habits haven’t changed a bit.”

~~~

“How are you doing?”

“The others aren’t as mad as I expected.”

“Red tape, writing up report after report for bureaucrat after bureaucrat, they’re more perceptive than you give them credit for. However, I don’t believe I asked about them, I believe I asked after you.”

“I think cleaning up this mess while trying to go about life with an international criminal potentially out for my blood is a fitting punishment for my failings.”

~~~

“I get it. We’re a family, and it’s important that families talk, and holding it in will just make this sick, sad feeling of awfulness more awful,” Garcia said, “right?”

Hotch allowed himself a brief upturn of his lips at her rambling before sobering up. “Internalizing does make it worse,” he agreed.

“I’ll talk, but I don’t want to talk about her being gone,” Garcia said softly. “Can I talk about how she made me smile?”

A pang shot through Hotch’s heart at her hopeful question as he thought back on the close relationship the women had with each other.

“Of course.”

~~~

“The last time I was on a couch like this was when my father left,” Reid mused quietly. “They all thought I needed to talk, but developmentally I wasn’t guided by conscience—I could only reveal what my mother and my teachers told me was acceptable.”

“You told them exactly what they wanted to hear,” Hotch summed up, not showing just how much that hit home. “You don’t have to do that here. Yell, curse at me, whatever you need to do.”

The genius swallowed. “It’s just unfair that she’s gone,” he said, barely holding back tears. “It’s like if we can’t keep each other safe, then why are we even doing any of this?”

Hotch remained silent as Reid continued. “It’s… sometimes I think maybe—maybe Gideon was right, you know. Maybe…” he trailed off, staring into space. “Maybe it’s just not worth it.”

~~~

Morgan sighed, leaning back on the couch. “So I came in here to do what? Talk about losing Emily?” He shook his head when he received no answer. “Strauss put you up to this?”

“The assessment’s routine,” Hotch finally said. “I asked her to let me do it rather than bring in somebody from the outside. Thought it might be preferred, even with my role in this mess.”

“So let me guess—it’s about the five stages of grief,” Morgan let out a breath. “You want to figure out where we all are.”

Hotch looked at him expectantly, remaining silent, much to Morgan’s annoyance.

“All right,” Morgan said, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees. “Denial. I’m fine, this can’t be happening to me—well it didn’t happen to me, did it?” he started. “So that rules that out. What else is there—bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. Well, obviously, I haven’t accepted it, otherwise I wouldn’t be in here,” he looked at Hotch. “So where does that leave me?”

“Angry.”

“Angry,” he repeated. “Yeah. Yeah, sometimes I feel like I want to quit my job and spend my time chasing down the son of a bitch who killed Emily. You’re damn right I’m angry,” he declared, anger pouring out of every word before he deflated.

“Sixty seconds,” Morgan breathed out, shaking his head in self-recrimination. “If I had gotten there sixty seconds earlier, Emily might still be with us.”

“Derek, you know that you did everything you could—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I did everything I could. We all did. I know,” he snapped. “What, that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“You protected each other for years, don’t expect this to go away anytime soon,” Hotch told him.

“This what? This—this guilt?”

“Just because you were the last one there doesn’t mean that you could affect the outcome,” Hotch said. “We all wish we had that kind of control.”

“So what do we do, we just chalk it up to fate?” Morgan looked at Hotch incredulously. “What, I can’t blame anybody? What, this is the will of God? No. I do blame somebody, I blame Doyle.”

At a loss, Hotch remained silent, hiding the guilt that threatened to swallow him in the face of Morgan’s grief.

“Hotch, what am I supposed to do?” Morgan finally asked, voice breaking. “I lost my friend right in front of me, and I’m supposed to go on like nothing happened?” He shook his head, taking in a shuddering breath. “You know, we—we come in here, and we talk to you,” he turned to Hotch and asked, “Where do you go?”

Hotch glanced down as Morgan continued, “Where are you with all this?”

“Same place as you,” the unit chief looked back up, a mutual understanding passing between them. “Wishing she was here.”

~~~

“There are benefits to meeting after hours,” Rossi commented, raising his glass of scotch and taking a drink.

Hotch looked down at his own glass. “You know everybody’s feeling it, and nobody wants to talk about it.”

“It’s too soon, Aaron. You know that better than anyone,” the older profiler sent him a look. “And, uh, doesn’t Strauss usually run these assessments?”

“There was no way that was going to happen,” Hotch said firmly to Rossi’s brief chuckle.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” he said, as Hotch took a long drink out of his own glass. “And I also know that you grieve privately. But,” Rossi paused, looking at him solemnly, “you’ve been through more than any of us in a very short time. How are you holding up?”

“I’m all right,” Hotch repeated three words that had become a mantra, briefly glancing at Rossi. “I think it’s an ongoing process,” he said, thinking about the mess he was buried under after the events of the past year.

“This is not my assessment,” he looked at Rossi in reproach, “I’m supposed to be asking how you’re doing.”

A corner of Rossi’s lips briefly tilted up before he looked back down as he thought about what to say. “I’ve always had trouble letting people in,” he began slowly and shook his head. “But this is different. I guess I’ve come to realize… I’m more married to this team than I ever was to three ex-wives.” They shared a brief moment of amusement as his quip.

“It’s been a hard year,” Hotch finally said quietly. “We’ll get through it.”

“Yeah, we will,” Rossi agreed, lifting his glass in a toast. “Emily and Haley.”

Hotch raised his own, the two lapsing into heavy silence.

~~~

I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I’m sorry I’m sorrysorrysorry—

He threw the blanket off himself and got up from where he was laying on the couch to walk over to his desk, glancing out into the dark bullpen as he went. He sat down and started going through the stack of unfinished reports in an attempt to ward off the thoughts that have plagued him since that painful day two months ago.

I’ve failed you, Blackbird.

I hope you’re safe out there.

~~~

“Believe me, everyone who tried to save him that day isn’t going to forget. It’s the day they failed. They’ll ask themselves what they could have done—could they have gotten there sooner? They’ll heal, but it’s going to take time. They’ll move on, but they won’t forget.”

~~~

“Over the next few weeks, each of you is going to be asked if you’d like to stay with the unit,” Hotch informed them.

“Why wouldn’t we?” Reid asked, confused.

“There are other options for you out there,” Hotch answered. “And while I want the unit to stay together, I understand completely if you want to see what the alternatives are. Morgan, there’s renewed interest in you from the New York office.”

Morgan looked surprised. “Nobody’s called me.”

“They will.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to go,” he said slowly.

“Oh, I know,” Hotch said evenly.

“Are you staying here?” Seaver asked Hotch.

“It’s my intention to,” but we’ll have to see what happens with Doyle. He felt Rossi’s eyes land on him, knowing that the man would have caught his careful word choice.

Either way, there’s a high chance I’m going to be overseas soon.

~~~

“Has he ever left before us?”

“He technically isn’t leaving—he’s still in danger and doesn’t have the luxury of going into hiding, so he’s been rotating through the Academy dorms.”

“Jack?”

“He’s been staying with the Brooks family. Hotch implemented as many security measures as he could and has been visiting as often as he can.”

~~~

“Hotchner.”

“Hey, it’s me,” Morgan’s voice came over the phone. “How’s it going out there?”

“Got to Pakistan a few days ago, so far long days, some territorial issues to work out, nothing surprising,” Hotch answered, straining to hear Morgan over the helicopters whirring overhead. “How’s everything there?”

“Hotch, we found Declan Doyle.”

“What?”

“Listen, I knew finding the kid was the only way I could find Doyle,” Hotch was silent, mind immediately straying to the potential ramifications. “I know what you’re thinking, man.”

“Is Declan safe?” he finally settled on asking.

“Yeah, he is for now. I’ve had surveillance at his house and his school for a few weeks.”

“Morgan, I didn’t authorize this—”

“I know you didn’t, Hotch, but listen to me. I think Doyle may have found Declan, too.”

Hotch shook his head. “All right, I’m coming back.”

“You want me to wait?” Morgan asked incredulously.

“Morgan, fixated on his son as he may be, Doyle is still incredibly smart and meticulous,” Hotch reminded. “You make sure you have eyes on Doyle from all angles. If you take him alive, keep him under constant surveillance and limit his contact with other people, even if they’re our own.”

~~~

“Prissy, Doyle’s in custody and under constant watch. You can come out of whatever hole you’ve crawled into.”

“Dare I ask how you got to him?”

“I’m still in Pakistan, I didn’t do anything. The team took care of it.”

~~~

<<Time to come back, Blackbird.

>>You got V?

<<Looking for his K.

>>I just got a call from K’s caretaker. What happened?

>>Iceman.

<<K disappeared

~~~

“Welcome back, sir.”

“Thank you,” Hotch turned around to see the brightly-dressed analyst hurrying towards him with a folder under her arm. “What have you got?”

“A top-ten list of Doyle’s enemies.”

“Anybody recently in the States?” he looked through, recognizing the names.

“Richard Gerace’s been here a few weeks,” she answered. “He’s a low-level gun-runner who angrily crossed paths with Doyle. I caught an image of him on the surveillance camera at Declan’s house and confirmed it was him through a scar on his neck. Have you come across him before?” Garcia asked, referring to his time with JTF.

“I don’t think so,” Hotch shook his head. “Get me everything you can on Gerace.”

“Yeah,” Garcia hesitated, “what I just told you is everything I’ve got.” Hotch nodded and briskly walked around her out of the conference room.

He made his way to where they were holding Doyle and walked up to the window next to Rossi.

“Well, that’s a good look,” Rossi commented on his beard. Hotch allowed a brief smile to appear on his face while he texted Morgan, who was inside with Doyle. “How was the desert?”

“Hot,” Hotch replied shortly, still able to feel sand in his combat boots and the sun beating down on his back.

“Doyle’s here, so have you seen Jack yet?”

“No, Jessica took him on a road trip, they’re at Hershey Park right now,” Hotch said, still occupied with his messaging.

“Well, he’ll love that beard,” Rossi looked over at him.

“Yeah, we skyped every day,” Hotch said dryly, looking back at the older man. “He’s not a fan.”

~~~

>>C just called to check in. On the way right now.

<<See you in a bit

>>If I survive the others

<<Blackbird, I made this decision, I am responsible for this. It’s my burden to bear, but I’d do it all over again if it means having you alive.

<<Oh, and J came back fourteen weeks ago. As a profiler, now.

>>What? And you’re just telling me this now?

<<Didn’t find out until I got somewhere with secure service, and that was a week ago.

<<We’ve really missed you.

~~~

“Welcome back,” Morgan greeted Hotch.

“Thanks,” Hotch said, steeling himself. “Everybody, have a seat.”

The profilers looked at him strangely. “Why?” Morgan asked. “What’s going on? Everything all right?”

“Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team,” Hotch crossed his arms. “As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle, but the doctors were able to stabilize her and she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration.”

He continued on, watching as different emotions appeared on the teams’ faces as they realized what he was saying. “I called Clyde and we met with the brass while she was being flown over, and it was decided that her identity was strictly need-to-know, and she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. Given the danger Doyle posed, she was reassigned to Paris, where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.”

“She’s alive?” Garcia asked, hopeful shock clear in her voice. Hotch’s silence spoke volumes.

“But we buried her,” Reid said, uncomprehending.

Hotch looked directly at Morgan. “As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision, and if anyone has any issues, they should be directed towards me.”

“Any issues?” Morgan repeated in angry incredulity. “Yeah, I got issues,” he trailed off when he noticed the others looking behind him.

“Oh my god,” Garcia breathed, tears rolling down her face at the sight of Emily Prentiss in the doorway. She stood up and rushed over, enveloping the woman in a careful hug, as if she were going to disappear.

“I am so sorry,” Emily said, as the analyst let go of her so Reid could take her place. “I really am. Not a day went by that I didn’t want to…” she trailed off, catching sight of Morgan’s expression. “Really, I—” she approached him, hoping he’ll understand, “you didn’t deserve that, and I’m so sorry.”

She leaned in, hugging him tightly as Morgan slowly returned the hug through his shock. They stayed like that for a few moments before she backed away and turned to the others. “There’s so much I want to tell you guys, and I will, I promise, but right now I really need to know what’s going on with Declan,” she said, walking to stand next to Hotch and JJ.

“Emily, was there a man living at the house?” Reid pushed forward to ask.

“Yes, my friend Tom Koehler, he was raising Declan as his own.”

“Where is he?” JJ asked from the side.

“I never saw him go in or out of that house,” Garcia told her.

“He was on assignment overseas,” Emily said.

“But he’s all right?” JJ checked.

“Yes,” Emily confirmed, “He’s on his way back now. He got a call from Declan, he called me, and Hotch texted me just moments later telling me you had Doyle in custody.”

“And because of Tom’s line of work, that’s why you enrolled Declan in a boarding school,” Hotch said.

“I made sure that he, Louise, and I were the only ones allowed to take him off campus.”

“Louise took him home last night because he was sick,” Reid told her.

“Food poisoning,” Hotch interjected.

“Yeah, a few of the kids had it, apparently, so whoever did this got to him on campus. They knew they only had one chance.”

“Current suspect is Richard Gerace,” JJ said, “he’s the most recent arrival into the states. We’ve been tracking his progress through the city, but we came up empty.”

“We know it’s him because he has the scar,” Garcia added.

“That doesn’t make sense, Gerace gave up on Doyle a long time ago,” Emily stated.

Rossi spoke up, “He said you were the only one who knew Gerace.”

“Which is why I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have the balls to pull this off,” she said. “There was no forced entry at the house?”

“I had two agents working security,” Morgan said.

“We think Gerace and his partner pose as the next shift, and one of the agents was a woman,” Reid told her.

Emily’s response came quick. “She’s the alpha.”

“So we’re looking for a woman who’s getting back at Doyle,” JJ summarized.

“Well, our suspect list just got a whole lot longer,” Hotch remarked, exchanging a sardonic look with Emily, who nodded in agreement.

~~~

“Is Strauss still there?” Hotch asked over the phone, striding outside towards the parked SUVs.

“She is.”

“We need full support.”

“Doyle said McDermott’s family imported weapons to a private airfield in Maryland,” Emily said.

“Close?”

“Largo.”

“All right, send me the coordinates. Oh, and Emily?” Hotch added.

“Yeah?”

“It’s good to have you back, Blackbird.”

~~~

“Hotch, are we really going to do this?” Morgan’s voice came over his earpiece.

“No one leaves here,” Hotch said firmly into his mic, keeping a careful eye on the proceedings.

~~~

“Iceman.”

“Blackbird,” Hotch returned as Emily approached him at the side of the conference room, having escaped the others’ excitement at her return. He looked her up and down, taking in the welcome sight before pulling her into a tight hug. The others fell silent, watching them clutch to each other like a lifeline in an embrace that spoke of a deep familiarity.

“You did all that you could,” she told him quietly, as their grip on each other loosened slightly, “thank you.”

A few traitorous tears slipped out of his eyes, which he had squeezed shut. Hotch kept his head at the crook of her neck, taking in the familiar warmth that reassured him of her presence.

“It’s so good to see you.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #bau #fanfic #david rossi #derek morgan #spencer reid #penelope garcia #hurt #sodone glass is fragile

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thestray · 3 years

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Movies I watched Feb 8 - Feb 14

So I’m still on a huge kung-fu kick (pun intended) since I was working on a spreadsheet of 100 martial arts movies, which I’ll be posting soon. So all but 2 of the movies I watched this week contained martial arts.

Movies I watched this week behind the cut.

The Prodigal Son

Big fan of Yuen Biao and Sammo Hung and I’ve been meaning to watch this for a long time but just haven’t seen it available anywhere til now, found it on a free streaming channel called TCL on my Roku tv, so I watched it and loved it. My favorite part of this movie is the guy that plays his master Lam Ching-ying, he’s one of those guys that’s ubiquitous in Hong Kong movies but typically in a supporting role. I really thought his performance was really good for what could’ve been (and usually is) a caricature, a lot of the other cares ARE caricatures, intentionally, but Lam Ching-ying plays an effeminate opera troupe leader but he’s nuanced rather than over the top about it. Warning that he is called some homophobic slurs within the movie. Fun movie, great choreography, and a good satisfying story too, will definitely purchase a hard copy of this one.

Martial Arts Master Wong Fei Hung

Found this while looking for more movies featuring Lam Ching-ying, he plays the bad guy in this, a Japanese swordsman bent on defeating dojo masters to prove he’s the best. Chin Ka-lok plays the hero, Wong Fei Hung, who is a Chinese folk hero that has been played by every major Hong Kong action star; Jackie, Jet Li, Donnie Yen, Sammo, Gordon Liu, and so many others. I didn’t know this before but this, Drunken Master, Once Upon a Time in China, Iron Monkey, Rise of the Legend and so many other films are fictionalized stories about Wong Fei Hung in different stages of his life. An interesting thing I’m finding about Chinese culture through film is they treat historical figures really no differently than we treat superheroes. Wong Fei Hung, Ip Man, Huo Yuanjia (portrayed by Jet Li in Fearless among others), and it’s kinda cool and beautiful that after these people have long passed on they have become these epic larger than life characters. Anyway, the movie is cool, has really fun choreography. It kinda ends abruptly, but that’s because it touches on elements of his life that are later explored in other films. Cool movie.

Unlucky Stars

This stars and is directed by Dennis Ruel, on the left, its an independent martial arts film that is on youtube for free, definitely recommend it. The title and the whole film is an homage to 80′s Hong Kong cinema; there’s a “lucky stars” series of films that star Jackie Chan, Sammo Hung, Yuen Biao and others. If you’re bout that life you’ll catch references, if you’re not it’s still a fun little beat em up. It’s not going to blow you away with it’s cinematography, story or acting, but I thought it was really good for a low budget affair of essentially a bunch of stunt performers getting together to make a movie together. Had some good laughs, fights and stunts are great, I hope these guys get an opportunity to keep doing bigger and better stuff.

Undisputed 2

I’ve known about the Undisputed films for a long time and was never too in a rush to watch them, decided to rent the movies on Prime and was not disappointed. When you watch a lot of East Asian action films the choreography in American films, especially straight to video stuff like this, can seem a little slow and boring, but that wasn’t the case with this at all. The fights are fun, the characters are fun, and Scott Adkins kills it. Oh, and by the way Undisputed 1 features Ving Rhames, and I don’t remember else, I saw it eons ago, I don’t think it has any connection to these films other than the concept of fighting in prison.

Undisputed 3

It was such a smart move to turn the franchise’s focus to the villain of the previous film. Boyka has a real Vegeta story arc in these movies, and his super athletic style is just fun to watch. The highlight of this movie to me is when he faces off against a capoeira expert and they’re both just flipping around during the fight. I think this movie is my favorite of the Undisputed series, it has a satisfying end.

Triad Wars

This is a mob movie with Sammo as the boss and Wu-Jing, pictured above as his enforcer. It’s more of a crime movie than an action movie, but the action scenes are crazy, it’s like if you’re watching the Departed than all of a sudden someone starts flipping around and cutting off everybody’s arms. There are some brutal kills in this. I honestly don’t know if I was following the story that well, the weird thing about movies where different crime factions go to war is it’s like... these people are all evil, and we watch them do fucked up shit, and they all have the same motivation; money, so it’s like I’m not really emotionally invested in what happens, I’m just here to enjoy a guy in all white landing on top of car and then proceeding to kill everyone with a sword.

Fighter in the Wind

I had been looking for this movie for a while but forgot what it was called, and it’s hard to search for martial arts movies because what are you going to search “the movie where a guy fights a lot of people”? Anyway I finally found it and it’s a cool movie, another film that’s based on a true historical figure, I don’t know how faithful this movie is but it was enjoyable. This coward who is always being humiliated in fights decides to train himself to become stronger and then challenges every dojo owner in Japan to a fight. It’s a karate movie, so the choreography is not as flash as kung-fu films, and he essentially wins his fights not because he has better technique but because he can take more punishment and hit harder. SIde note: THe lead actor looks so much like Stephen Chow it was distracting.

Judas and the Black Messiah

The hype is real. This was a good ass movie. The performances are all perfect. I knew that Fred Hampton was assassinated, but to see the whole story and how it went down and to get to know him really gave you the full impact of just how fucked up it was on so many levels.

Undisputed 4

Back to Undisputed! Boyka’s back baby! Cool movie, and furthers his character development. I still think I like the previous movie a little better but this was fun too.

Brigsby Bear

Kyle Mooney is the current best member of SNL, he wrote this film and it’s funny and weird and endearing. I guess after watching people fight in prison, the true story of a black radical being assassinated by the government, and countless people dismembered and impaled, I wanted to watch something a little more lighthearted and fun. Kyle Mooney is an awkward manchild who wants to recreate a show he grew up with. I don’t want to say anymore than that, but I enjoyed it.

A Kid From Tibet

Yuen Biao with some Golden Child style mystical action adventure. It’s not mind-blowing in terms of action, but I liked this, it has some precursor to Naruto type stuff in it, doing hand jutsus to initiate powers and stuff like that. My favorite thing about the movie is the main henchwoman played by Nina Li Chi, who I’m not retroactively deciding is one of 80′s crushes. I actually went ahead and bought this on DVD just because it’s such an obscure movie I wanted to have it my physical collection.

Nina Li Chi

That’s all for this week!

#movies #yuen biao #nina li chi #kyle mooney #brigsby bear #undisputed #boyka #scott adkins #dennis ruel

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wonderlandleighleigh · 4 years

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The Big Fat Movie List!

I saw @conspiringagainsttheuniverse wanted the big ol’ movie list that we’re currently making our way through with the help of a digital randomizer!

So it’s under the cut!

Note that anything with an *asterisk next to it is something we are considering vetoing, either because we have no desire to watch the film, or someone with a history of diddling children made the film, and we’re not interested in supporting their work.

The list is made up of box office winners and critical darlings from 1920 to 2020. There are around 20 movies per decade on the list. We decided to limit the list to one or two Disney movies per decade, so there are a lot of years where a few box office winners don’t appear because we wanted more variety.

Please excuse my typos. I was typing in a hurry!

Under the cut! Through this in a spreadsheet and see what movie you’re watching tonight!

Ben Hurr The Big Parade The Singing Fool The Four Horseman of the Apocalypse Something to Think About The Covered Wagon The Jazz Singer The Kid The Gold Rush Way Down East Sherlock Jr. Gone With the Wind Snow White Wizard of Oz Frankenstein Tom Sawyer King Kong Mr. Smith Goes to Washington Cavalcade Saratoga Mutiny of the Bounty City Lights Bride of Frankenstein Duck Soup Stagecoach Little Women Swing Time Love Affair All Quiet on the Western Front Young Mister Lincoln Bringing up Baby Bambi Mom and Dad Samson and Delilah The Best Years of Our Lives The Bells of St. Mary's This is the Army Duel in the Sun For Whom the Bell Tolls Sargent York Gong My Way Forever Amber Citizen Kane Casablanca Notorious Pinocchio Treasure of the Sierra Madre The Third Man The Shop Around the Corner Maltese Falcon The Grapes of Wrath The Lady Eve The Ten Commandments Lady and the Tramp Ben Hurr The Bridge on the River Kwai Around the World in 80 Days This is Cinerama The Greatest Show On Earth Rear Window South Pacific The Robe Vertigo Singing in the Rain Touch of Evil Some Like it Hot North by Northwest Rashamon All about Eve Streetcar Named Desire Twelve Angry Men Anatomy of a Murder The Sound of Music The Graduate Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid Jungle Book My Fair Lady Thunderball Cleopatra 2001 A Space Odyssy Guess Who's to Dinner How the West Was Won The Wild Bunch Doctor Strangelove Psycho Rosemary's Baby * The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance The Manchurian Candidate The Apartment The Servant Cool Han Luke The Hustler Star Wars: a New Hope Jaws Grease The Sting Superman The Godfather The Exorcist Smoky and the Bandit Animal House Blazing Saddles American Graffiti Nashville Mean Streets Woodstock Taxi Driver The Wild Child Apocalypse Now Days of Heaven Mcabe and Mrs. Miller Badlands ET Return of the Jedi Empire Strikes Back Batman Raider of the Lost Arc Ghostbusters Beverly Hills Cop Back to the Future Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade Top Gun Ran Grave of the Fireflies * The Decline of Western Civilization Platoon This is Spinal Tap Do the Right Thing The Right Stuff After Hours Hannah and Her Sisters * Postcards from the Edge Stop Making Sense Titanic Phantom Menace Jurassic Park The Lion King Forest Gump Independence Day The Sixth Sense Home Alone Men in Black Toy Story 2 Three Colors Red Hoop Dreams My Left Foot Beauty and the Beast Pulp Fiction Schindler’s List * Reversal of Fortune Brother's Keeper Crumb Maborosi Avatar Dark Knight Shrek 2 Pirates of the Caribbean Dead Man's Chest Spider-Man Transformers Revenge of the Fallen Revenge of the Sith Return of the King Spider-Man 2 Passion of the Christ Pan's Labyrinth Four Months Three Weeks and Two Days Killer of Sheep Ratatouille Spirited Away The Hurt Locker Sideways Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon Yi yi There Will be Blood Force Awakens Endgame Black Panther Infinity War Jurassic World The Avengers Last Jedi Incredible 2 The Lion King Rogue one Boyhood Moonlight Roma Manchester by the Sea * Twelve Years a Slave Parasite Gravity The Social Network * I am not your negro Portrait of a Lady on Fire

#movies

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justhereforthefanfiction · 4 years

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Subtle Induction: Matteo x Adele drabble/one-shot

Whatttt!!! Okay, I did say I didn’t have time to commit to a fanfic, but this scene popped into my head and I thought, heck. Fine. I can smash out a drabble.

Famous last words, eh?

This was inspired by one of my Titanic prompts - Christmas (Modern/Urban) AU, but leans closer to a Workplace AU. Not chrismas-sy though :(

Subtle Induction | Titanic AU | Matteo x Adal

Click. Click. Click.

She stared at the spreadsheet despondently, figures swimming in front of her eyes.

NG-Organise? More like NG-bullshit.

She sighed heavily.

48 hours. That was all it took for her world to come crushing down.

Adal moved to London upon accepting a job offer that seemed too good to be true. A passionate activist of women's rights, Adal was currently putting herself through a political science degree by working tables at the local pub. One night, she overheard one of her patrons waxing lyrical about the emerging tech giant that was going to change the world. Immediately, she was enamoured. She looked up their careers directory and applied for a place on their PR team.

To her surprise, what she thought would be a shot in the dark became a dream come true when she received an email invitation for an interview. Mr. Vasari had taken her interview, shown her around the workplace, and offered her a position. His deep baritone, steady gaze and fierce intellect made her feel safe and listened to, and she believed if this was any indication of the level of leadership she had to look forward to, the job would be a slice of heaven.

Little did she know she made a deal with the devil.

She huffed, rubbing the bridge of her nose tiredly. The hairs of her neck began to stand. Her eyes flicked over the barrier to the cubicle in the corner.

He was looking at her again.

Rolling her shoulders back, she met his inquisitive gaze heads on. He did not look away. Instead, he quirked one thick eyebrow up, an insufferable smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Matteo Vasari was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. But little did he know, she was no lamb.

Adal scoffed. He had set her on this path. Convinced her that this was the exact progressive workplace she wanted to be in. That this was the job of a lifetime. Convinced her to move to London, quit her job, uproot herself and her sister to seize the opportunity to make a difference.

Within 2 days of starting, the facade of the dream came crashing down.

James Eisler, the British division’s CEO had invited her and Matteo to discuss her role and responsibilities. She left that meeting white-knuckled, with her breath caught in her chest. It was evident that she was a token hire, a woman and person of colour that would raise the profile of their company to several key stakeholders they wanted to impress. And what better way than putting her in-charge of publicity. A public face for a public role.

Immediately she saw what she didn’t see right there before. A predominantly anglo workplace. No women in managerial or senior positions. A white saviour mindset permeating throughout their work in various sectors. None of their practices took into account local expertise in the countries they assisted. It was shocking. A complete contrast to their current image.

No wonder why they splash the big bucks on PR, Adal rolled her eyes.

Click. Click. Click.

She couldn’t just cut loose. Her apartment and Hileni’s new school placement was tied up with NGOrganise. They had offered it as part of their reloaction service, and Adal took them up. Now everything was at stake.

Worse still, she was tasked to win over Zetta Serda, beloved Oscar-winning actress and UN Goodwill Ambassador for the past 5 years. To convince her to be part of their charade in spreading awareness and goodwill across the globe.

Scowling at her screen, she hears the rolling of a chair in the distance. Sharp footsteps pad towards her. Adal kept her eyes glued to the screen, her hand twitching in anticipation. Not long, the telltale strong, spicy scent of his pomade invaded her senses. A small cough. She reluctantly lifts her eyes. Matteo throws her a short, wry smile and nods towards her screen.

“Having trouble?”, he tucks his hands under his arms, his forearms exposed by crisp rolled-up sleeves. His wristwatch glistens under the fluorescent lighting. 11.45am. Gods, the day had barely begun.

“Trouble e-stalking a celebrity, tracking down her movements and formulating a false impression of our work for the campaign? Now why would you think that?”

He smirks, finding her candor refreshing.

“You look like you’ve been kicked by a horse”.

She gasps. His smirk deepens.

“Well, I happen to have a lot on my mind.”

Matteo’s smirk fades and he nods, deep in thought.

“And how is your sister settling?”

Adal’s back stiffens. Matteo sees how it’s taken and immediately shakes his head, hands raised, cool demeanour gone.

“I meant, with school and everything. I understand it was a big move for her too.”

A beat passes, Adal’s face an inscrutable mask.

“Great. We’re grateful to NGOrganise for putting her at St Rose’s Girls. Not an easy school to get into, from what we hear.”

The unspoken implication of the statement hangs heavily between them. It is known that girls that look like Hileni do not go to prestigious, high crust institutions like St Rose's.

Matteo nods. He hesitates over what he says next.

“Adal...we take care of our own here at NGO. You needn’t worry. You have every reason to believe that we have your best interests at heart. James is a man of his word.”

“And you?”

Adal sees his eyes flash for a split second, and then flicker with something heavy. She thinks calling it remorse would have been too generous.

His voice drops.

“I’m not your enemy. Look around you. People like us, we got to do whatever it takes to keep those doors open.”

Matteo falters. He takes a deep breath, but thinking better of it, stops himself. He steps towards the back of her chair. Alarmed, Adal’s breathing jumps.

He bends over her shoulder, an arm at the back of her seat, his face and hers side-by-side, inches away from each other.

She tries to avoid it but she can’t. From the corner of her eye, she can see every line, every hair on his face.

Belatedly, she registers that he is reviewing her work, his eyes fixed on her screen.

She thinks she can’t possibly hide her reaction to him, but hopes against hope that he hasn’t noticed his affect on her. His face is a passive mask, but the glint in his eye betrays him.

After a tortuous 15 seconds, he points to the screen and turns towards her, his breath shallowly wafting across her face. Their lips are inches apart.

“Add a column here for resources. As long as it is a prospecting expense, you may use it however you like”.

He straightens up to leave. Adal feels her face warm up. As he walks away, she releases her breath and hangs her head in annoyance and confusion. Or rather, annoyance at her confusion. Wasn’t he Enemy #1 a moment ago?

Before she could complete the thought, Matteo turns around, his eyes flicking to her screen.

“By the way, good job.”

She hesitantly smiles.

“I want it in my inbox before lunch time”.

She scowls as she watches him walk towards his desk, grab his laptop and head towards James Eisler’s office.

Don’t look a gift horse in it’s mouth, is that what he is trying to tell me?

She shakes her head, her hand going for her mouse.

Click. Click. Click.

Her eyes look for him across the room.

No matter what he says, he had full knowledge I was a token hire. He encouraged me. Deceit is deceit.

Matteo strides into the boardroom, laptop in hand. Their eyes connect.

No matter how pretty his words are.

Determined, Adal looks at her screen and gathers her thoughts. She wasn’t going to be a pawn in someone else’s game. So what if she was a diversity hire? She knew her worth, and no amount of commiserating over shared experiences was going to stop her from being who she was. She was more than her race and gender. She needed to walk away from this unscathed, on her own terms, her own way. And she would.

Whatever it took.

---

Author's note:

Hellooo Life 2.0 cameo! Doesn't Matteo come across a little like Jaime, in the sense they are both aware of the POC ceiling at their respective workplaces?

Also, leaning towards Mena Massoud as a face claim for Matteo. He is a little prettier, and his face is rounder, but look:

Kinda? Maybe?

Still trying to find the perfect face claim for Adele, but no luck. I do think Naomi Scott would do a kickarse job as her, if she was cast.

There, the plot bunny is out of my head (for now).

#storyscape titanic fanfiction #storyscape #storyscape titanic #storyscape life 2.0 #life 2.0 #matteo vasari #adele carrem #adele x matteo #mena massoud #naomi scott #adal karam #the things i write

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falseroar · 5 years

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Silver and Peppermint (Part 4)

((Part 4 of a fantasy AU, with Monster Hunter Abe teaming up with a reluctant DA to track down a murderous werewolf. After failing to shoot the wolf he saw last night, Abe takes the DA to check on the first of their three main suspects. Who...might be familiar to anyone who’s read some of my other stuff with Abe and Y/N. Also, hints of DA/Detective in this one, at least from Abe’s side.

Links to Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, and the Epilogue.))

“We should swing by the station first,” Abe said once they were outside. “Lenore should be back with those papers by now. Maybe they’ll mean something to you.”

“Possibly,” the District Attorney said. “Hopefully it can be more useful than what I found last night.”

“You couldn’t find anything to connect our five?” Abe asked.

“More like I found everything,” they answered. “Franklin’s bank served as the default mortgager for our real estate victim, who sold our grocer his new house, who made a large public donation to Garroway’s theatre last year, as did Haywood’s company, who was angling for a contract to build the bank’s new branch on the other side of the city, and so on. All perfectly legal, and nothing to hint at any kind of animosity between the five of them. As for ‘Honest’ John, his business is registered with the city and from the records when he sued the occasional client for defaulting on a loan, he has rates that are well below loan shark levels. Business seems to be booming, and he’s clearly not afraid to take someone to court if they don’t pay up.”

“So, we’ve got plenty of connections but no obvious motive,” Abe said. “Aside from our victims’ letter.”

“’If we stand together, he cannot take us all,’” the District Attorney quoted, word for word Abe was sure. What he wouldn’t do for a memory like that. “Which would lean toward Franklin or John.”

“Assuming they were suspecting the right person,” Abe said. “Even they didn’t sound sure if they could trust the others in their group. Could be our killer isn’t acting on their own.”

He thought again of that wolf in the alley. Maybe he should have mentioned it to the Mayor or to the District Attorney, but with the Mayor on edge he wasn’t about to admit he had a werewolf in his sights and missed. As for the DA, well they thought little enough of him as it was without giving them any more reason to doubt what he was capable of.

Still, there had clearly been two wolves out last night, one trying to get into Marcus’s apartment to attack his girl and his roommate at the same time the other was sniffing out Franklin’s place, maybe looking for a way to get in at yet another target.

He wondered which wolf was to blame when they arrived at the police station to find Lenore, apologetic and empty-handed.

“I swear it was there last night, but the folder with all of Marcus’s paperwork, it’s like it’s just gone,” she said. “Stephen and I went through the whole apartment, but we couldn’t find it anywhere. It’s a bright blue company folder, it’s hard to miss and I could have sworn I left it in his room, but we were so freaked out last night and ran out so fast…”

But it wasn’t the sort of thing you’d hold on to when you’re running for your life, not without a reason. If the werewolf had broken down the apartment door, literally anyone could have walked in at any point during the rest of the night and taken it.

“Would anyone have a reason to steal it?” the District Attorney asked, clearly thinking the same thing. “What kind of paperwork was in it?”

“I mean, I just flipped through it, but most of it was copies of receipts and spreadsheets. Marcus was in charge of balancing the budget at the end of every month, so sometimes he’d have to double check what we paid for this or that, but it’s not like company secrets or anything,” Lenore answered. “As far as we can tell nothing else is missing. I’m sorry, we’ll keep looking, but I thought you should know.”

“So that lead’s a total bust,” Abe muttered later, once they were back outside and walking to the first suspect’s house.

“Not entirely,” the District Attorney said. “It looks like you were right to ask about his papers, because someone was interested enough to take them. That may be why your werewolf visited them last night and went to all the trouble of scaring them off. That’s another big deviation from the first three victims, and again because of Marcus. Or in this case, something he possessed.”

“He must have known something, or at least the werewolf thought he did.” Abe rubbed his chin as he walked, eyes darting up and down the street even as his thoughts circled around the idea. “The werewolf tries to get in as a wolf, no doubt trying to hide its identity, and rushes the door when it realizes the kids are inside to scare them out. It didn’t bother with killing them before they got to the cops, because they weren’t the target.”

Except it had still chased them, and circled the group last night with every apparent intention of killing them, at least according to the cops and the kids. Had it been considering disposing of all five of them then? Or had it just been playing with them, feeding off of their fear just as it had Marcus before the kill?

Abe shook himself a little to dispel that train of thought and continued, “Fat lot of good that does us, if it’s in the killer’s hands now.”

The District Attorney surprised him with a rare smile as they asked, “We’ll see about that. Tell me, how are you at bluffing?”

They went to ‘Honest’ John’s house first, on the assumption that after last night he would be the least likely to expect to start off his day with a few questions. It helped that he lived within a few blocks of the police station, but when they reached the front door they almost walked straight into the man himself on his way out.

Because they were still on the steps, both had to look up to see the face of the man who towered over them. Clean shaven and neat in his appearance, from his close-trimmed hair and tailored suit down to his shiny shoes, Abe would have guessed him to be the banker of the group. After a moment of surprise, the man slipped into an easy, practiced smile and asked, “Can I help you?”

“Name’s Abe, and right now all you need to know is I’m working for the city. This is—”

“Y/N,” John said, his smile growing wider when he saw their surprise. “The District Attorney. I’ve seen your face in the papers, of course. Can I say, I appreciate what you and our Mayor have been doing for the city so far?”

“You can say whatever you want,” they responded stiffly. “We have some questions for you, so if we could step inside…”

“I’m afraid I was just heading into work,” John said, stepping fully outside and shutting the door behind him as he did so. “Could we talk on the way there?”

“Look, we can talk in the middle of traffic as long as you answer our questions,” Abe said and the man nodded before turning to lock the door. While his back was to them, Abe shot the District Attorney a look, but their eyes were sizing up John, a frown tugging at the corner of their mouth until he turned around.

“Forgive me, my manners are lacking,” John said and he stuck a hand out in Abe’s direction. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Abe…?”

It was a salesman’s greeting, the hand turned to put his on top. Abe knew that trick, and in response he grasped the hand with both of his own.

“Lincoln.”

“Abe Lincoln,” John said, his left hand moving forward to touch Abe’s forearm so that now this handshake was far too friendly for Abe’s liking. A smile that didn’t reach his eyes, maybe even a laugh escaped as he added, “John Booth, at your service.”

The handshake showed no sign of stopping until the District Attorney made a sound at that, at which point John let go and turned to them.

“I think you two have done enough handshaking for all of us,” they said, firmly planting both hands in their pockets just in case and ignoring the hearty laugh from John at that. “Let’s skip straight to the point. Did you know Mr. Alex Haywood, of Haywood Construction?”

“If you’ve come to question me about him, then I can only suppose you already know he had taken out a loan with my company,” John answered. He gave a heavy sigh and said, “I’m afraid I didn’t know him well, but I was sad to hear of his passing, especially in such a…brutal manner.”

He stood there, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped, before he seemed to remember that he had been going somewhere. He gestured for them to walk alongside him, and with his long gait keeping him slightly ahead he began to lead them down the street.

“Yeah, I know you must be real sad about losing that loan,” Abe said.

“Not particularly. It wasn’t a large amount, and even then, there is a good chance his estate will cover the loss. No, I am more disturbed by the rumors going around concerning Alex’s death, especially with the Mayor’s sudden call for a curfew.” John’s eyes shifted to Abe, looking him up and down before adding to the District Attorney, “I suppose the rumors must be true, if the city is hiring hunters now.”

“Two other clients of yours have also been recently murdered,” the District Attorney said, ignoring his remarks. “It would seem you’ve been unlucky in your choice of loans, Mr. Booth.”

“Three respectable members of the community, who by all means should have been trustworthy debtors. It’s not the most pleasant coincidence,” John agreed. “I am more than aware how it looks, Y/N, but what reason would I have to harm the very people my livelihood depends on? To be honest, I was rather hoping to hear you had some answer of your own for why this keeps happening.”

The District Attorney looked away, but Abe saw how John studied their reaction, just as he had noticed how the man couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of his partner since they left the house, as though fascinated by the way they moved. Abe knew having himself and the District Attorney on either side of the man to flank him was the best way to keep an eye on him and put that much more pressure on the suspect, but at the moment he wanted nothing more than to insert himself between the two of them.

Instead, he cleared his throat and, when John glanced his way as if having forgotten he was even there, said, “We know exactly what we’re looking for, and that’s why we’re talking to you now. Isn’t that right, Par—er, Y/N?”

“…That’s correct,” they said, a new steel in their voice as they fixed John with an even, unblinking stare, heedless of where they were walking. “The night before last, an employee of Alex Haywood was murdered. We know that he had company records in his possession, and some of these records were more…questionable than others. As someone financially related to Haywood, you’ll understand why we wish to see any and everything you have related to his company.”

“Is that so?” John tried to keep up the same tone of speech, but Abe could feel the way he tensed. Then again, anyone would tense up if face to face with the District Attorney’s stare, that quiet blanket of seriousness loosely wrapped around a sharp wire that felt ready to snap and lash out at anyone foolish enough to trip it. “Then please, allow me to give you a copy of our records regarding Haywood. I’m afraid it’s not much, but if it can be of any help to you…”

No one should be smiling like that right now, Abe thought as John unlocked his office door and let them in, not at my—Not at a time like this.

Feeling guilty at even the cut-off thought that strayed across his mind, Abe turned his attention to the small, well-decorated office, and immediately almost knocked over a potted plant on one of the desks while John went to one of the locked filing cabinets and pulled out Haywood’s file, then the files for the other two victims when the District Attorney reminded him.

When John handed over the folder with the copies inside, his gaze lingered on the District Attorney’s face and he took a deep breath before smiling again and saying, “I look forward to seeing you again, Y/N.”

Their eyes met his for just a second, their brows narrowing as they pulled the folder out of his hand with a little more force than was necessary before walking out without another word. Abe couldn’t stop a proud smile at that as he turned to follow.

“The same goes for you, hunter. Feel free to come see me if there’s anything I can do to help you find your wolf.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again,” Abe said before shutting the door behind him, hoping that sounded better out loud than it did in his head as he walked away.

It took almost half a block to catch up and fall in step with the District Attorney, who seemed so caught up in their own thoughts and examining the contents of the folder that he doubted they even noticed his absence. He had to repeat himself two or three times before they finally looked up and asked, “What?”

“I said, that John guy was too ready to help us out. No one’s ever that helpful without a reason.”

“It could be because he knows there’s nothing incriminating in these documents,” they answered, looking down at the papers again. Despite their distraction, they managed to navigate a hole in the sidewalk and easily sidestepped a man and his dog standing on the corner, although Abe had to grab their elbow to keep them from walking straight out into traffic. “There’s nothing here that stands out on its own, unfortunately.”

“Then we keep digging,” Abe said. He looked around, trying to take stock of the city in daylight. “We’re near the banker’s house, right? If anyone would want to keep a record of his dealings…”

A butler answered the door at Mr. Franklin’s house and nearly shut it in Abe’s face before the District Attorney flashed some documents, at which point he, reluctantly, invited them into the sitting room. It was a neat trick, and as Abe paced around the room he thought to himself that if there were ever a next job for the city then he would have to ask for a badge of his own. Nothing too fancy, just with enough of a shine to make people think twice about questioning his presence long enough to find what he was looking for.

“Please do not touch that, it is a rare piece by Asteas himself,” came a rebuke from the doorway, catching Abe just as he started to reach out his hand.

“Really? It just looks like a vase,” Abe said, pulling his hand back all the same. “Not even a good one, I’ve seen elementary school kids make better.”

“Be that as it may,” said the posh voice behind him, “It’s worth more than you would make in a lifetime, I’m sure.”

Well, now Abe wanted nothing more than to knock it off its stand. Resisting that urge, he turned to face the gentleman at the door. Well, gentleman in theory, although Mr. Franklin looked more like a reformed hippie pressed into wearing a suit, not helped by the fact he was wearing sandals. He was a stout man with a neatly trimmed beard and long hair pulled back into a bun, and he gave Abe an owlish stare behind a pair of ridiculously small glasses.

Franklin gave a heavy sigh. “Has there been another murder?”

Abe narrowed his eyes. “That’s an oddly specific question.”

“Not as odd as when a group of police officers knocked on my door at three in the morning to ask if I was dead, a werewolf, or both.”

Abe tried very hard not to look at the District Attorney for fear of seeing how they reacted to that. Instead, he said, “Well, at least we can rule out one of those options for now. Where were you and what were you doing last night?”

“In bed, and sleeping. Well, until the knocking started,” the banker answered, but he took a hasty step back when Abe crossed the room and encroached on his personal space.

“Oh, really?” Abe asked. “Then care to explain why I saw a werewolf sniffing around outside your house last night? Because it seemed real interested in you.”

The District Attorney made a noise at that, briefly reminding Abe that he had forgotten to share that little detail before now, but that thought went straight out the door when Franklin gave a choked sob and fell against the door frame as though no longer able to support himself.

“It’s coming for me,” he gasped out, one hand clutching his shirt so hard that at least one button had come undone or snapped straight off. “No, no, I told them, I told them I’d have nothing to do with it, why—”

He gave another choked sob and Abe rolled his eyes at the District Attorney to show what he thought of this act.

“Yeah, I’m sure you did, pal. Now why don’t you start naming names and we can actually get somewhere?”

“Uh, Abe…” The District Attorney started, but he gave them a shushing motion. He could handle this one.

The banker’s face turned red as he began to wheeze, his words stuttering and indecipherable.

“Come on, buddy, we don’t have all day,” Abe said and caught the banker as he started to slide to the ground.

Caught his sweating, shaking body as another gasping wheeze came out.

“Uh…Pal?” Abe asked as the District Attorney pushed past him, a single shout into the hall rousing the butler as they crossed over to the phone and began to dial.

((End of Part 4. Thank you for reading! ...In my defense, I wrote this before I had even considered doing anything for Goretober, much less that John might make a reappearance there.

Link to Part 5.

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @purpstraw @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate ))

#markiplier #fanfiction #werewolf au #monster hunter au #wkm detective #wkm da #wkm mayor

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askiisoft · 5 years

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FAN ART FRIDAY: ALL THE WARRIORS, Part 2

And to think I was planning to fit all of the OCs into one week...yeah, not happening. With 50+ entries and counting, I’ll be lucky to fit them all into four parts.

Welcome back to Part 2 of “All The Warriors”, a multi-week showcase of the Katana ZERO community’s awesome fan characters! The volume of submissions for this event has been mind-blowing, to the point where I’ve had to create a dedicated Excel spreadsheet to keep track of them all. If you haven’t submitted your character yet, there’s still one week left! If you have, rest assured that it’ll will be included eventually, so please be patient!

For those who missed it, don’t forget to check out Part 1 of this series.

[WARNING: The work herein is based on fan creations, and should not be considered canon.]

Alpha 13, “Believer” by @DokusatsuMurXer

What is the loneliest number? ‘One’, you say? Nope, it’s 13...Alpha 13, that is.

Being one of the first Alpha-series NULL, it’s likely that Thirteen joined purely out of adoration for the illusive “Great Scientist”—a noble cause compared to the violent psychosis that defined the later Gamma-series NULL. While it’s clear he’s taken lives in service of his one-sided infatuation, it’s hard not to see him as another victim, still pining for his senpai’s attention even after everyone’s graduated and moved away years ago. Why do we always love the one who will hurt us the most?

According to @DokusatsuMurXer’s, the drunken swirls in his Post-war portrait are hiding something much steamier. I can only imagine.

Please, senpai. By @DokusatsuMurXer

—

Beta 6, “Blade” by @Khwany_kawawii

In the Third District, there’s only two ways to get what you need: by coercion, or by force. Beta 6 opts for both, and seems to have a reputation on par with The Dragon amongst hapless goons. Ironically, it seems amnesiac NULL like Blade or Zero are the ones who kept going on killing sprees after the war, instead of throwing in with criminal syndicates or settling into an ordinary day job.

Her giant curtain of hair, while a bit ridiculous-looking standing still, would certainly add a sense of dynamism as she flipped and pirouetted in midair, tossing knives left and right. Also, knives.

“With no drugs, I will die. But with the drugs...I am the Killing Angel.” By @Khwany_kawawii

—

Ema by @Khwany_kawawii

Well, would you look at that. Not only is Ema our first non-NULL OC, but also the first...*drum roll*...Cromag! That’s right—as a child, Ema barely survived a NULL attack that killed her family, and she’s dedicated her life to finding whoever was responsible ever since.

The concept of a private eye in Katana ZERO’s neo-noir metropolis, especially one who suffers from such intense trauma and racial discrimination, has fantastic plot potential. What if she finds the NULL who orphaned her, but they don’t remember it? What if they have to team up? I can’t help but wonder how long an average woman (bionic arm aside) could survive in this dark underbelly of drugged-up super-soldiers...

—

Gamma 4 by @camellia_066

Not every hero dies on a battlefield.

Being a commander means taking responsibility for those under your command. For some that extends beyond wartime, and especially so after the one-way process of becoming NULL; while an Alpha could skip doses of Chronos with nothing more than a nosebleed, a Gamma might require twice the dosage just to stay lucid.

Maybe the weight of New Mecca’s defeat was too much for him to bear. Maybe he knew that a cure for Chronos was a pipedream. But it was better to die for the slim chance of salvation than witness his former comrades slaughter one another for just another dose.

—

Gamma 12 by @wqwrppwu

So this is who’s been stealing my Uber Eats.

The idea of a Gamma-level NULL—especially one as devious-looking as Gamma 12—working as a pizza guy is hilarious to me. I have a soft spot for features like thin noses, wild eyes, and razor teeth that just scream “bad guy, stay away”. Most other NULL would just kill the cashier and take what they want, but Twelve uses his powers to steal booze and cigarettes and get away with it, every time.

It makes sense that he’d be best friends with Alpha 25, “Pomidor” (see Part 1) thanks to their mutual eccentricity and love of mayhem.

Camaraderie at work. By @wqwrppwu

—

Gamma 5 by twink-182

Beta 6 had better be a wizard to claim the nickname “Blade”, given how many Gamma-level knife experts roam the city’s underbelly. Once part of Fifteen’s circle of former NULL, Gamma 5 evidently saw the writing on the wall and decided to leave before his comrade’s vendetta drew him deeper into danger. Otherwise, who knows, we might have had a quick, teleporting knife-thrower heckling us throughout the Headhunter boss fight...yeah, maybe it’s for the best that he’s M.I.A.

I’m guessing the photo and red string is just another point on Fifteen’s byzantine conspiracy board; I hope we get to see the whole thing one day.

—

Alpha 4 by @kym0433

As with any conflict, the end of Cromag War produced massive windfalls for organized crime in terms of illegal weapons, war drugs, and super-soldiers thirsty for Chronos. Luckily for Alpha 4, the Chinese had carved out their own niche in New Mecca’s Chinatown, and they offered him a steady supply of "ke le nuo si”, as they called it, plus a cushy job as a bodyguard; after all, who would dare to start trouble on their turf? Who, but a certain samurai who walked up to the roulette table one day...

While Ted might not be the strongest NULL, he leads the pack in terms of fashion. No musty olive fatigues for this killer—whether it’s a traditional patterned chengshan or tasseled shawl, Ted makes it look awesome. No one would even suspect he’s hiding weapons under there!

By @kym0433

—

Beta 24, “Cecil” by @Tacoyaki86

Contrary to popular belief, the inability to feel pain is not a superpower, especially when paired with a military specialization as hazardous as demolitions and bomb disposal. Imagine not realizing your hands got blown off until you reached for a sip of coffee. That, and you’d be stone deaf from constant close-range explosions and minigun fire.

Knowing that, I can understand Beta 24′s desire to spend a quiet veterancy at a manga café, where the otaku don’t want to chat anyway and the biggest risks are coffee burns and paper cuts.

Also, is that chevron on his beret the same as Headhunter’s? That must indicate rank, or possibly explosives experts. Given Headhunter’s propensity for sticky mines and suicide vests, I’d believe it.

“Detonation successful!” By @Tacoyaki86

—

Gamma 767, “Retana” by @TailWood

Given how many NULL prefer close-range weapons like knives, swords, and bludgeons, having to fire artillery from kilometers away must seem like a crushing indignity for a Gamma like 767: slowing time just means it takes longer for his rockets to hit their targets, and he can’t even collect any trophies to show off to the guys at the bar once they’re off-duty! But hey, someone’s got to do it; I don’t think even the sharpest steel would do much against a tank...

By @TailWood

—

Gamma 9, “Nara” by @couriervictor

Sadism and sharp objects don’t pair well together. It was never explained why Headhunter chose to wear her old uniform everywhere, but in Gamma 9′s case it’s pretty clear: he’s an elite, and he wants you to know it. Lack of physical strength doesn’t matter, since everyone in Katana ZERO died in one hit anyway, and his affinity for throwing knives reminds me of Biker’s levels from Hotline Miami. More knives.

—

Alpha 35, “Sako” by @matsumatsu_kou

For a Gamma NULL, overcoming a debilitating wound is as simple as using their powers to ‘reset’ and try again until they can win the battle without a single scratch. Sadly, that wasn’t an option for their lesser Alpha brethren, as evidenced by Alpha 35.

There have been known cases of NULL choosing to retain scars and other superficial injuries as badges of honor, but if there’s a reason why Sako chooses to fight with a blind eye and busted arm, it’s beyond me. However, if Proto-15 is anything to go by, battle damage is a huge plus for you ferals out there, and it gives him an extra place to store those KNIVES. *snickt*

By @matsumatsu_kou

—

Beta 74 by @cheezysucks

“Take everything from a man but his weapon, and do not judge him thereafter.”

Even in the far-flung future of New Mecca, it seems PTSD still haunts soldiers returning from conflict, even those as exceptional as NULL—if a near-death experience is harrowing, imagine the trauma of countless actual deaths, each instance being dragged backwards in time to start over.

Still, as far as ex-NULL go, Beta 74 chose as honest a job as his ilk can manage, given their stigma abroad. And oh, wow, is he wearing a pair of those funky four-eyed night-vision goggles? Look them up, they’re real, and just as absurd-looking.

—

Gamma 5, “Heatseeker” by 6at

Pour one out for another fallen warrior, Gamma 5 (yes, I know there was already a Gamma 5 earlier, won’t be the last time this happens). Five seems more like a tactical fire commander than your average NULL, with actual combat armor and a bubble helmet seemingly inspired by early concept versions of Headhunter’s gear, replete with a digitized HUD; pretty slick-looking, I must say.

Knowing how far far New Mecca went to cover up the NULL program, I’m surprised they let Five live as long as they did, though his hermetic lifestyle likely made him a minimal risk. I’m guessing he was terminated around the same time the government halted the production of Chronos. Coincidence?

Seems like ‘Heatseeker’ attracted a bit too much heat, heh heh.

—

And that was Part 2 of our Katana ZERO OC event. Is your finger tired from scrolling yet? Not as much as mine...

Click here to read ‘Part 3: Was Going To Be The Finale But I’m Drowning’. Thanks immensely to every single artist who’s submitted their characters and expanded the world of Katana ZERO just a bit more!

By @wqwrppwu

#askiisoft #Devolver Digital #fan art #fan art friday #original character #do #not #steal #katanazero #katana zero

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essaysbyciara · 5 years

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Thy Neighbor (Chapters 7 + 8)

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapters 5+6]

I gave up Tumblr for Lent so I figured I’d drop two chapters at a time to make up for only posting on Sundays. As always, message me if you would to be added to the tag list.

School and work meant nothing to Ciara once Tuesday came around. She stared at her clock hoping that time would speed up, skipping the gym so she could buy all the perfect ingredients for tonight. Her menu of red beans and rice, plantain and baked chicken was perfect. She bought her favorite wine in case Trevante needed to unwind.

As the smell of dinner enveloped the room, she mulled over if she needed to put on a different outfit. Her grey hoodie and black workout pants were perfect but did she need to put on a lip? Fill in her eyebrows? She gathers herself and realizes that this wasn't a date -- it was a lightweight Bible Study. She puts on her favorite Ella mix and awaits Trevante’s arrival.

Trevante can smell the food from the hallway as he walked past her door to drop off his things inside of his apartment. As he took a quick shower and changed clothes, he put on a grey hoodie and black basketball shorts. He grabs his laptop and notepad and heads over to Ciara’s.

“Hey!” Ciara’s braids swing as she opens her door. She laughs to herself about their matching outfits. “Come on in.”

“Thanks. Yo, that smells incredible.”

“I hope it’s good. I mean, I know it’s good. You know… you’ll like it I’m sure. Plates are in the cabinet to the right. Help yourself.”

Ciara pours her a glass of Riesling and pops a plaintain into her mouth. She’s quite too nervous to eat but knew that she couldn’t resist. As Trevante sits at her table, he marvels at the Ella Fitzgerald mix in the background.

“You like Ella?”

“You know, I do. I play the Spotify playlist sometimes to switch things up. I like it.”

“I love jazz, man. It’s great.”

Ciara watches as Trevante blesses his food. He opens his eyes to see that she’s halfway through her plate.

“What?” She asked. “What’s up?”

“I thought all of you Christians blessed your food.”

“You trying to be funny, Trevante?”

“Nah, nah. I mean… yeah.”

Ciara and Trevante both laugh as they devour their food. Trevante’s silence was all she needed to know that it was good. As they pull away from the dining table and into the living room, Trevante can’t help by stare at all of her books.

“Theology, huh?”

“Yeah. I’m going for Masters in Theological Studies.”

“I knew you were the right person to help me out.”

Ciara tries to contain her smile but can’t. She felt affirmed in a way about her passion that she never received. When she told her Mom that she wanted to pursue an academic career in religion, her Mom laughed her off. She thought her Christianity was a phase and that in due time, she’s forget all about this “moment in her life” But Ciara was committed to know about her faith. What made her tick and why she made mistakes and why she was so thankful for grace.

After Y’lan left, she fell into one of her darkness points. She’d sit in her apartment for days as a time, friends coming by and do wellness checks on her. Her depression deepened as the seasons changed, sleeping all day and waking all hours of the night. The Rahmeeks, Ezekiels and Chads found her bed but it wasn’t enough. She wanted to be left alone and alone is always how she found herself.

When she missed a week of classes, her professor reached out to her. As Ciara poured her heart out in an email, she felt relieved to know that she wasn’t alone. Her professor recommended a women’s group that could help her find peace in community. They became more than that, they became family. They’d braid Ciara’s hair when she wasn’t up to taking care of it. They fed her meals when she was too weak to go to the grocery store. They made her laugh with stories of terrible dates. They’d let her cry when something would trigger her about Y’lan.

They threw her a party when she finished on the Dean’s List that year.

“Okay, so I did some research on Proverbs. They do some great stuff.”

“I thought so too. I’m trying to figure out how to best market them though to communities who aren’t Christian too.”

“No, I totally get that. But I think you need to stick with that as their selling point. The worst thing you can do is pressure wash the faith off of an organization. That faith tag gives them some merit.”

“Yo. You wanna go into marketing?”

Trevante and Ciara laugh as she pours herself another glass.

“No, no, no. As someone who works for one, I get how hard it is.”

“Word? Who do you work for?”

“Protestant Placements. We place kids in churches and Christ-based orgs to gain experience and college or seminary credit. It’s pretty cool.”

“Again. You are perfect for this.”

Every ounce of approval makes Ciara’s heart palpitate.

“Okay, so… the book of Proverbs is like a book of instruction. It gives you the call to live right, practice grace, care for the poor, etc. You could pull out certain Proverbs to highlight certain causes they do.”

Trevante races to open up his spreadsheet.

“So like Proverbs 22:9. You could use that for their food program. You know what I mean?”

As Ciara’s trails off, Trevante starts to stare at her. He’s impressed by her knowledge and commitment. Especially to her commitment to help him. He flashes back to weeks ago when Ciara came to his aid in a moment when others would have left him alone. He remembered that she caressed his head and told him that everything was going to be okay. He remembered when she made him a cup of coffee and affirmed his hurt for the loss of his father. He remember when she told him “I got you.” and I meant it. Twice.

All of the women he ever dated never cared enough to know how he was feeling. They only wanted to have sex with him. Rather that was all he wanted. He never gave them a chance to find out. He wondered what it could be like to have sex with someone that he actually cared about and cared about him. Someone who would make him dinner and help him with work.

As he slowly drifts into another dimension, Ciara catches Trevante.

“Is this too much or…”

“No, no. This is perfect. This is great stuff. You got another glass of Riesling?”

“Of course. I got you.”

That phrase again. And she always delivered.

“You need to drink to get through this, huh?” Ciara slightly laughs as she passes Trevante his glass. He pauses before he takes a sip.

“So why did you help me other day?”

Ciara takes a longer sip before she answers. The right answer is that she saw someone in need. The wrong answer is that her fine neighbor needed help and she felt that this would be her chance to get in good with him. While she knew that wasn’t true, she wanted Trevante to know that wasn’t the truth either. And herself.

“I just saw you in pain so I figured to help. I wouldn’t want to be left like that. And when you said your Dad, I knew it was meant for me to be there.”

“What do you mean by that?” Trevante says quizzically.

“I’m a believer that you go through things to help others. As much as I still don’t understand why it had to be that, I know that God set me up to be in a place where if I ever ran across someone who needed my help, I would be able to do it. And stand firm as I did it.”

Trevante felt that answer. He was happy that it was her in that moment and not one of his late night dalliances. It was in the space of genuine care. He never felt that before.

“So yeah, that’s why.”

“Wow. Thanks, man.”

“Of course. I hope all of this helped you.”

“It did. It’ll give me a day to draft something. I really appreciate it.”

Ciara and Trevante get up from the floor to give each other a hug. As he embraces her, she rest her head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat slowly rises. They start to beat on the same syncopation. It catches her off guard. Him too. He doesn’t want to let her go. That was a new feeling.

Time slowed down for the both of them. That last person to make her feel this way was Y’lan. They’d hug longer to squandered any other thoughts they have in mind. It was their cheat code. She felt super warm and cozy. She didn’t want to let go. That was a missed feeling.

They both release with reluctance. Ciara grabs the glasses and places them into the sink. Trevante quickly grabs his things and heads to the door.

As Ciara starts to wash dishes, she hears Trevante leave. she falls to the ground, exhaling rapidly. As she texts Mahalia, she receives a text from Trevante.

Can I call you?

CHAPTER EIGHT

That phone call was two hours and 36 minutes. Trevante never been on phone that long since high school. As the hours ticked and his body grew tired, he didn’t want to get off of the phone.

“So tell me about your Dad?”

Trevante tells Ciara the entire story. The baseball dreams, the war, the PTSD, the drugs, the death. He opens up about college and his fears of living his family. He told her why he loved marketing and why he had to get to the gym at 5 AM. It was a lesson he learned from his father.

“Trevante. It’s like one in the morning. I think you need to get some sleep if you wanna make that time.”

“Ughhhh. Okay. I don’t wanna get off the phone though.”

Ciara couldn’t contain her giggle.

“That was cute.”

“Shut up. Look, I ain’t going to be one that messes up your schedule. Even though you sometimes mess up mine. “

“What you mean?”

Ciara didn’t want to blow up his spot about the soundtrack to her late nights. About the tapping of the headboard and the orgasmic screams coming from his bedroom. But there may not ever be a good time like this, she figured to go for it.

“You know I can hear you, right?”

Trevante pauses and then remembers. He starts to feel super embarrassed. Although he was proud of his work, he didn’t realize that Ciara’s bedroom was next door.

“Oh wow, my bad. I’m sorry.”

“I mean, somebody gotta get some around here. I’m glad it’s you. I can’t knock the hustle.”

Trevante wanted to know what Ciara meant by that. Was he wrong to ask? After pouring out his heart to her, he decides to go for it.

“I mean… you just threw me a softball. Are you...?”

Ciara wants to be offended but can’t. She knew the risk of letting him know that his trysts pissed her off. But also made her zone out at the possibility of her being at the receiving end.

“I practice celibacy, Trevante. Yes.”

“Hmmph. Wow. Okay. Respect.”

“That’s it? Dudes usually have a lot more to say after that.”

“Like what?”

“Like ‘would you break that for me?’ or “you masturbate though right?’ or ‘get with me and I’ll change your mind.’ and my personal favorite ‘we gonna get married anyway so let’s just test drive this shit.”

Trevante’s large frame curled over from laughter. He never tried those lines before and is kind of shocked that he hadn’t.

“Yo, dudes are trash. I’m sorry.” Trevante’s laughter fails to be contained. Ciara starts to laugh too.

“But yo Trevante it is getting late. I should be getting some sleep too.”

“Do you have to?”

Ciara doesn’t want to say yes but she knows she has to. She had no idea that her night would end with talking to Trevante for hours, laughing about life and getting close. Maybe her dream wasn’t too far off.

“Yes. I’ve been doing good about getting to class on time.”

“You wouldn’t break that for me?”

Trevante knew what he was doing with that question. And so did Ciara. And so did certain parts of her body. His deep voice and underlying sincerity sent her mind in a place that it shouldn’t have. To headboards. To orgasms. To breakfast in the morning.

“Wow, Tre. Good-fucking-night.”

Trevante lets out a hearty laugh. “Goodnight.”

As Ciara gets up to grab a glass of water, she knocks on her bedroom wall. Seconds later, she receives a text.

Yo. You weren’t kidding.

Taglist: @blackpinup22

#trevante rhodes x fanfiction #trevante rhodes #y'lan noel #fanfic #thy neighbor

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builder051 · 7 years

Text

Mike & Co Introductory Story (OC sickfic)

Alright, here’s the intro story for Mike, Jason, and Colby (well, it’s a story about Mike, with cameos from Jason and Colby). It’s the only story I have planned for them so far, so once you read this, feel free to send requests for any/all of these guys.

Trigger warnings: a little bit of eating disorder thought process, but no descriptions of ED behaviors. Also a little disrespect for the field of ED therapy. I don’t hate all therapy. I’ve just had a bad experience with that kind of therapy.

Mike sits heavily down on the picnic bench and unzips her blue insulated lunchbox. She has no idea what to expect; Colby had shuffled around the kitchen and then thrown the thing at her after she’d threatened to leave without it. The others around the table—Mike isn’t sure how to think of them. Clients? Patients? Other among the sick, weak, and damned?—sheepishly unload their packed dinners and surreptitiously glance around at what everyone else is either trying or pretending to eat tonight.

Mike joins in and dumps out a host of ominously heavy items. There’s a Tupperware of something salad-looking, a glass bottle of kombucha, a baggie of brownish clusters resembling granola cereal, a peach, and a banana bread muffin wrapped in a paper towel. She organizes the individual parts of her meal across her placemat and realizes with a pang of guilt that it’s probably what Colby intended to eat for tomorrow’s lunch. Now wasted on her. Mike’s even less inclined to tuck in.

She gets up from the table both to buy a little time and search down some flatware since Colby neglected to give her any. The journey across the covered patio and into the home-style kitchen is quick, but conspicuous. Mike’s barely back in her seat when one of the nutritionists, Krista, brightly asks, “What’cha got there, Michaela? Looks different from your usual.”

Mike shrugs. She pulls the top off the Tupperware and reveals a mess of greens topped with what looks like a whole avocado and two or three fistfuls of sunflower seeds. Although she knows the monounsaturated fats in the dish are actually quite beneficial to her overall health, the sheer number of calories within the clear plastic dish seems staggering. But then again, it was meant for a 6’2” teenaged man. Not for her.

Krista won’t stop looking at her, so Mike digs her plastic fork into the center of the salad and jams a wad of veg into her mouth. She takes her time chewing, tasting the bitter greens and creamy avocado and nutty sweetness of the seeds. She thinks for a second that she understands why Colby prefers these kinds of meals. It tastes a hell of a lot better than the false chemical sweetness of, say, pop tarts. But that fucking fat content…

When the allotted dinner hour is up, Mike waits in line. The mandatory after-dinner private conference with Krista or Deb or one of the other heartless fools who run the outpatient therapy program has to be the worst part of the 4-hour-a-day, 3-day-a-week torture. A degree in nutrition or psychology isn’t enough to give anyone the right to glance across a table and decide whether an independent, free thinking person should be forced to consume even more calories of dairy-based high-sugar “nutritional” drink.

Mike plays with the zipper on her lunchbox, hoping she won’t have to open it and talk through its remaining contents. She’d made a decent attempt on everything, but finished nothing. But she feels full. She almost feels overfull. Mike wishes she could go to the bathroom. She’s learned by now that when the digestive system’s been underused or forced to work in reverse for an extended period of time, it goes into the mode of something like a tiny, sick kitten. Indigestion just follows eating, and sometimes going to sit on the toilet or just stand around in the bathroom— and decidedly not purge—are necessary measures to deal with impending stomach pains. But that’s not allowed in the fucking therapy program. Apparently letting grown adults use the toilet on their own whims is too much of a risk. So it leaves Mike feeling like, well, like shit.

“Michaela, you’re up.” Deb lets the previous girl out of her office and beckons to Mike.

Mike tries not to roll her eyes as she steps into the overly cheerful office with its yellow walls and daisy-centric décor. Deb is decidedly Mike’s least favorite staff member, and unfortunately, she’s the highest ranking. She’s a businesswoman, owns the therapy program, and despite not having the proper credentials, gets to tell everyone else what to do and where to go.

“Alright, what did we have tonight?” Deb’s supremely annoying in way she addresses Mike in the plural. Like she’s a pair of twin toddlers or something. “I think I saw some salad across the dinner table. You know that’s not part of your nutrition plan.”

Ah, yes, the nutrition plan, Mike thinks. The fucking spreadsheet that seems to place human beings as creatures that consume only macronutrients. “It wasn’t really a salad. It was a lot of nuts and avocado,” Mike defends.

“That’s still deficient in protein and carbs,” Deb says back with an overbearing, almost sarcastic patience.

“Plus fruit. And cereal. And banana bread,” Mike lists monotonously.

“Nutritionally, that’s not enough.” Deb scratches her flower-topped pen across a notepad, probably writing something scathing for Mike’s file.

“It was my brother’s boyfriend’s packed lunch,” Mike says, letting her forehead wrinkle into her expression of distaste. “Some people have a muffin or a cup of cereal for their whole meal.”

“You need to stick to your nutrition plan to normalize your eating habits.”

“Normal people eat what I ate.” Mike crosses her arms. Colby probably won’t appreciate being glumped together with everyone else on the planet, but to Mike, his calmness and ability to go with the flow places him distinctly opposed to her on the scale of anxiety. He’s as decidedly normal as Mike’s not.

“Michaela, I know you don’t like to hear this,” Deb says with a sigh. She opens the mini fridge behind her desk and pulls out a bottle of nutrition shake. “A muffin or a cup of cereal isn’t enough to keep a person going. We need to focus on eating the right things in the right quantity to actually meet your needs.”

“So you’re saying everyone is nutritionally deficient?” Mike snaps.

Deb uncaps the shake and pours out 8 ounces into a marked glass. She pushes it across the desk toward Mike. “Here.”

“Can you answer my question?”

“Please drink it,” Deb says, false patience thick in her voice.

“Fucking answer it.”

“Michaela.”

Mike’s stomach cramps a little under her folded arms. “No, I…it makes my stomach hurt. My stomach already hurts.”

“Your parents enrolled you in this program because they want to help you get better,” Deb says. “You owe it to them, and you owe it to yourself. Let’s lose the excuses.”

Mike tentatively wraps her hand around the glass, trying to crush it with her minimal grip strength. She almost laughs and shakes her head. “No, my parents enrolled me because they couldn’t be bothered to drive 2 hours out of the way to come visit, and they didn’t want to impose on my hardworking brother and ask him to babysit me.”

“That’s not true. Your parents are very caring people.”

“You’ve never met my parents. Just talked to them on the phone,” Mike snorts.

“Do you want to drink that and get back to the group session?” Deb asks, the false cheerfulness starting to wane.

“You wanna answer my question?” Mike reminds her.

“Michaela,” Deb says firmly. It’s that tone of voice, the kind that clearly betrays a desire for the other person to submit and obey because it’s somehow the right thing to do. It’s the way Mike’s mother speaks to her. The way teachers talk to students, the way people order around their dogs and horses when they’re forcing them to do something.

Mike lifts the glass. She’s already nauseated before it’s to her lips. She manages to chug down a sip of the blatantly artificial tasting vanilla beverage before everything comes screeching to a halt. Mike presses her sleeve to her mouth to keep from belching the milky fluid back up. She’s 20 years old. She doesn’t have to be here. Her parents will only lose money if she leaves. “I can’t,” she chokes out.

“You need to finish that.” Deb says it firmly, but then her saccharine smile is back. “You don’t have to take it all at once. I can get you some water. We can stay in here for a while.”

“No.” Mike gets on her feet. “No. I can’t do this anymore. Any of this.” She swallows the sour-tinged vanilla taste at the back of her throat. Her fist closes around the strap of her lunchbox. Mike towers over Deb, who’s still seated behind the desk. “You’re a liar and a fraud. You are the opposite of helpful. Fuck you.” She’s shaking with combined lightheadedness and anger.

“Michaela—”

Mike doesn’t hear her finish. She’s already out of the office and down the hall.

Her car’s parked on the street half a block down from the therapy program’s house-like building. Mike jumps in it and starts low-key speeding down the street before she realizes she’s about to fall apart. She just had a confrontation with someone. She cussed someone out. She was a total dick to Deb and that feels…amazing?

Mike’s hands are shaking and sweat-slick on the steering wheel. Her heart feels like it’s about to beat out of her chest. There’s a throbby ache behind her forehead that’s starting to push her vision into sparkles around the sides. She needs to calm down. She needs to breathe.

It’s a 15-minute drive back to the apartment. Mike’s stomach twists, sending a tendril of hot nausea up her back to erupt in prickles around her neck and jawline. She has to make it home.

But her breath’s not coming evenly. Each choppy inhale is shorter than the last, and after a few moments she’s almost gasping. Mike rolls down the window to invite the fall breeze into her Rav-4. When she looks up to the view through the windshield, her eyeballs feel foggy. There’s a siren behind her, and it sends disorienting flashes of red and blue into the car. Mike tries to pull over, but before she’s sure what’s happened, she’s sideswiped a half-dozen orange barrels and jammed her tire into the curb.

Mike lowers her forehead to the steering wheel, trying to comprehend what she’s gotten herself into while also swallowing the urge to be sick.

“Hello ma’am. Have you had anything to drink this evening?” The officer’s standing beside the already-open driver-side window.

“No, I…” Mike says. There’s entirely too much spit in her mouth. The still-flashing police lights are giving a strobe effect that isn’t helping with her ability to ground herself in time and space. She swallows thickly. “I just—” The words are lost in a gag that Mike tries to obscure with a hand clapped over her mouth.

“Ma’am?” The officer yanks the car door open and frees Mike from her seatbelt so she can lean out. Mike retches, and a spray of whitish fluid hits the asphalt.

“Oh fuck,” Mike chokes. “I’m sorry.” She heaves again and brings up more.

“Ok, breathe. Try to calm down,” the officer instructs. “You ok? Just not feeling so hot?”

Mike takes a hitchy breath. “God. Yeah, I—” another heave forces its way up her throat, and a weak stream of bile leaves her coughing.

“Alright,” the cop says.

“’M not drunk,” Mike mumbles when she finally has enough breath.

“Yeah, I know. You don’t smell like alcohol.” The officer scratches his head. “You seem pretty sick. Do you think you need to go to the hospital?”

“No,” Mike whispers. “I’m ok.”

“You sure you don’t need medical attention?”

“Yeah.” Mike coughs and wipes her mouth on her sleeve. “I just…need to go home.”

“I don’t think you should drive right now,” the officer says.

“Huh?”

“I don’t think you hurt your car or anything, but you’re not in good shape to operate your vehicle.”

Oh. Yeah. The construction barrels. It already feels like ages ago.

“Do you have someone to call?” The officer asks. “I could give you a ride home, but we’d have to tow your car.”

“I don’t know…” Just the thought of asking for help is turning her stomach again.

“Or I could call paramedics.”

“God, no,” Mike murmurs. “I, uh, I can call my brother…” It’s about the last thing Mike wants to do. She digs her phone out of her back pocket and stares at the lock screen for a moment before clicking back into action. She fumbles her trembling fingers and selects the contact for Jason. She lets out an anticipatory sigh as she holds the phone to her ear and listens to it start to ring.

“Yo,” Jason’s deep voice answers.

Mike clears her throat. “I, uh…” How is she going to explain this?

“You’re supposed to be in your group until 8, right?” Jason asks.

“Um, I, uh, had to leave,” Mike explains. She’ll tell him about walking out later. Maybe. “I started feeling really sick, and I, uh, started driving home, but…Can you come get me?” Her heart is a stone plummeting down through her body into the car seat.

“What?”

“I got pulled over.” The admission’s bringing back the prickly nausea. “I got sick.”

“Why?” Jason sounds tired.

“I don’t know. I was swerving or something.”

“No, Mike. Geez. Why?” He’s not asking why she got pulled over. It’s another thing Mike’s learned the hard way. Once someone learns that she has one of those eating disorders, it’s like she’s not allowed to be sick for any other reason.

“I—It wasn’t on purpose. I’m fine. I just got nauseous. I’m fine. I…” Mike’s about to gag. “Will you and Colby come get me so the cops don’t tow my fucking car?” She holds the speaker into her chest while she leans over to let out a wet, belchy cough that doesn’t bring up anything. She’s almost glad her body’s deciding to rebel so she has something to focus on besides the shame of being week and needy.

Jason’s mid-sentence when she gets the phone back to her ear. “…on our way. Just, like, chill for a little bit. You’re probably all wound up.”

“Thanks,” Mike mutters. She hangs up, then leans back in the seat and closes her eyes.

“You’ve got him on the way?” the cop asks.

Mike nods. She realizes she stupidly didn’t tell Jason where she is, but she assumes he’ll just start driving toward the therapy center and find her pretty quickly.

She sits in awkward silence with the cop leaning against the car frame for a while. He asks once or twice if she’s ok, but stays mercifully quiet when Mike just nods and slumps sideways into the velour seat. Eventually she recognizes Jason’s black sedan as it pulls into a parking lot across the street. He jumps out, all pale legs in seasonally inappropriate basketball shorts, and dashes across the deserted road. Colby’s on his heels, looking like an overgrown loyal dog.

“Hey, thanks for looking out for her,” Jason says to the officer. He looks at Mike, and she can almost see his hardheartedness melting away. She must have no color.

“Alright, you look like trash,” Jason says by way of greeting. “I’ll get you home.”

The officer wishes them well and takes his leave. Mike feels like she can finally think a little once the flashing lights are out of her visual field.

“You wanna jump in the other side?” Jason asks, gesturing for Mike to vacate the driver’s seat.

She steps down unsteadily, avoiding the splash of vomit just outside the door. She doesn’t look forward to being stuck in the car with her brother. Mike can practically see Jason’s thought bubble. He’ll ask a lot of questions. Want to know what happened. Mike’s having a hard enough time reconciling it for herself, and she doesn’t anticipate her brother having a great understanding of the way certain foods and emotions tend to turn her sensitive stomach.

“You know, why don’t I drive this one?” Colby offers as Jason’s about to hop into the seat Mike just left. “You’re car’s too small for long legs.” It’s not a great excuse since Colby only has a couple inches on Jason. He meets eyes with Mike and raises his blonde eyebrows.

“Yeah, sure,” Jason sighs. There’s no way he doesn’t know what’s up, but he has the grace to pretend to be oblivious. “See you back home.” He crosses back to his own car.

Colby deftly climbs into the Rav-4. “You know he’s pissed cause he cares,” he says to Mike, who has her temple pressed against the passenger window.

“Yeah,” she says. “Just…feel like I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.”

“I’ll save the lecture, huh?”

“Yeah,” Mike repeats.

Colby stays silent for a while. Then he asks, “Was it the food I packed? That made you not feel good?”

“I don’t think so,” Mike murmurs. “I think it was probably…a lot of stuff.”

“Ok.” Colby knows not to press. He turns into the parking lot of their apartment complex.

As they’re gliding into a spot, Mike bluntly asks, “Why’d you care about me?”

“Cause you deserve to be cared about?” It’s less a question than a statement of duh. “I know you don’t always think so, but it’s true.”

“Huh.”

Colby puts the car in park and removes the keys from the ignition. “So, if you’re not opposed to my cooking, you wanna maybe join us for breakfast in the morning? I’ve convinced Jason to let me make him something other than pop tarts.”

“I’ll, uh, I’ll think about it,” Mike says. It’s too early to tell how she’ll be feeling in the morning. But she really does intend to think about it.

#sickfic #ocs #new ocs #mike & co #very small ED tw #emeto

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cosmosogler · 7 years

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i was trying to meditate to help myself fall asleep last night. but thoughts kept coming up and i was stuck between trying to remember them so i could write them down later and letting them go so i could sleep. i ended up doing NEITHER!!!

yesterday i took wiley for a walk and played outside with the dogs and my brother for a little while. it was impossible to sleep last night though, and it took me like 2 hours to fall asleep (so i didn’t doze off until after 3), and then i woke up again around 6 and couldn’t fall back asleep. i know it was around 6 because as i was laying there trying to fall back asleep my mom came upstairs to wake my brother up to get ready for school. i was exhausted by the time my alarm went off four hours later so i napped a bit.

i was trying to do the mindfulness stuff, like focusing on my breathing. i wasn’t thinking TOO hard. i remember wondering if i should let thoughts go as they come up, or let them finish and then let them go. and then i was struck by the oddity of the process of thinking. i knew what the end of my thought would be before i got to it in “words.” but i was unable to stop thinking it until i wordlessly reached the end of the “sentence.” i wonder if that’s what really keeps my thoughts from going as fast as i’d like- stopping to put them into words instead of just letting the process go until it reaches a satisfying conclusion. but i wouldn’t know it had reached a conclusion unless i stopped to put the thought into words. i wonder if animals think faster because they don’t use words. do birds think in song? do dolphins think in squeals?

i am regrettably flagging in my efforts to socialize even a little bit. i said maybe a sentence today. i only left my room for about 20 minutes total. and i didn’t message anyone. i parked at my desk and read tv tropes for hours and hours. i’m kind of, sort of considering what my next move should be toward writing up some new drafts of my stories, or at the very least filling in some missing scenes and character motivations and logical strangeness in my comic script. i actually came up with a really good reason for the climax of the comic to go the way it does, which i did not have previously. just gotta... add some stuff in so it doesn’t look like a total ass pull.

maybe i almost feel ready to start liking my characters again. i don’t know if i’m really there yet, but i could see myself getting there. i still don’t want to draw or write. that’s a problem. i noticed i feel like i have a little more energy/motivation to do literally anything if i do actually get some exercise during the day. so i’ll take the dog out around the neighborhood again tomorrow. i feel bad having to leave eve and diogi behind though, since diogi can’t even get to the park and back any more without running out of steam. she gets so upset if i don’t take her though...

my therapist gave me a thought journal i still haven’t started writing in. it’s one of those cbt things where you, like, figure out a harmful thought, write it down, and challenge it with the power of logic and write down how you feel after creating the new thought. but i can’t seem to disentangle specific negative thoughts from general malaise.

i also didn’t compose the letter to my grad schools. nor did i start training for the pokemon competition. sign ups start on the 9th, so i have a little time... i don’t know why i haven’t started that. it’s not hard. it’s not even unenjoyable. it’s exactly the kind of more or less mindless chore that should be perfect for the level of effort i’m able to give right now. i already made the charts and spreadsheets and wrote down all the information i needed from the computer back in like december. i could go sit outside and do it with my notebook on my lap. actually that sounds like a good idea and i should try that tomorrow morning.

i dunno. i am... profoundly sad. i’m so sad i don’t even feel it any more.

this would be so much easier if i could just blame it all on one thing. like my closest friend dumping me like hot garbage with no warning. i mean yeah, that really bummed me out, but i started feeling sick before all that. it’s been two and a half months. i’m starting to think i’ll never feel better.

my mom keeps encouraging me to look for an outpatient clinic in the city. i couldn’t find one i’d feel safe at when i spent a couple hours clicking around the insurance list last week. she says i “need to get this solved.” i keep wanting to say, like... you can’t solve depression. that’s not how depression works. i don’t think that’s what she wants to hear though. also i don’t think that will actually help or change anything. she would say i’m obviously not trying hard enough, and if i just TRIED HARDER i wouldn’t feel so bad and sick all the time. and i don’t think that would be helpful for me to hear. so i don’t correct her.

i wanted to ask my therapist what she thought about meeting more often, or where i could go to see someone more often, when i saw her on friday but she kind of steamrolled over me. i didn’t get to talk about my nightmares either. it’s just, there’s only so much i can talk about and work on in an hour, and i just don’t have enough time to get through everything that i’ve been feeling in that amount of time once a week. even if it was just twice a week that would be so much better. i understand that i need to prioritize when i share my feelings with a therapist, but there’s just... an overwhelming amount of material to sort through. there’s no possible way to get to everything i feel is important to talk about right then, let alone everything i WANT to talk about.

and when she says stuff like “but the earth is sentient” it kind of blindsides me and i lose my train of thought because i stop to remind myself that that’s not how reality works as i understand it, and i shouldn’t believe everything someone tells me just because they’re a therapist. i have to stop to address that internally every single time because i don’t want to believe that. yes there is something strange going on with synergy and life and consciousness as concepts but having mass and chemical reactions doesn’t make everything sentient. if “planet earth” is sentient, are individual pebbles sentient? dust grains? individual atoms? where is the line? what even is consciousness? when and why does a collection of tons of cells start thinking “i” instead of “we”? when does a collection of cells even START thinking? what about the solar system as a whole, since planet earth is just part of a system itself? is the galaxy as an entity sentient? where is the line. even a fuzzy line still implies a distinction.

i got sidetracked again. as much as one can get sidetracked on a stream of thought glorified diary entry. i sure hope you wanted to read about cosmic consciousness, because that’s what ended up happening. man even i don’t want to read all the bullcrap i just spouted into the last 12 paragraphs. i mean, i read over my journal entries anyway, when i want to collect my thoughts and figure out what i should talk about in therapy that week, but i’m sorry for dragging you through this nonsense too if you got this far. i’m sorry.

it’s just very difficult to capture the exact nature of a thought in only words. even moreso for dreams, since they are somehow even more abstract and detailed and littered with fragments of emotion and knowledge and association that don’t make sense any more when you give words to them. words aren’t FLUID the way thoughts are. even writing down this garbage somehow makes it... less than what it was in my head. this applies to trying to write stories too. but looking over the journal entries i can sometimes remember exactly what i was thinking about and feeling from looking at the words, even though i know no one outside of me can ever get those exact feelings even looking at the same words. it’s weird, but... sharing them makes it feel more real than just keeping them in a word document. like someone else might care even a little bit. and that makes the lack of privacy and full coherency sort of, in a way, worth it.

#depression #s u p e r d e p r e s s i o n #do you like navelgazing because i aim to deliver

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boschlingtumbles · 4 years

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It’s a Nice Day for a White Wedding (Chapter 2)

Brienne took a deep breath of the crisp morning air, savoring the northern sunrise. She had initially been hesitant about taking the spring term research position in the far north. It was an incredible academic experience no question, but she’d be a thousand miles from her friends and family and Jaime...

Jaime had put his foot down. He refused to be the reason she missed out on the opportunity of a lifetime, working with her academic idols. He’d practically ordered her to take the job, and he’d been wearing a suit at the time and he knew how she felt about him wearing a suit...

Brienne shook her head. The spring in Hardhome had been incredible. And even better, she’d been offered a summer job on an archaeology dig at the Fist of the First Man! She had been waiting to tell Jaime in person when she saw him—he’d been flying up on weekends. A year out of college, Jaime was now working at his father’s corporation and loathing every minute of it. But at least it gave him ample free time for his still-in-college girlfriend.

Just then her phone buzzed. It was Jaime, and she felt a burst of happiness in her heart just seeing his name.

Whatever you do don’t take Cersei’s call. Or any call. She could be spoofing the number.

Uh okay. That was... odd. But Jaime had a tendency to get a little paranoid where Cersei was concerned.

The phone rang. It was Jaime.

“Hi Jaim—“ Brienne began.

“That was a test wench! You failed! She can spoof any number, even mine! Do not, repeat DO NOT, answer the phone!” Jaime scolded her. “Actually, you know what? Turn your phone off. It’ll be safest that way. I’ll see you at the airport this afternoon and explain everything, I promise!”

“You’d better,” Brienne managed with a sinking feeling. “I won’t talk to you all weekend if you’re going to be weird.”

“Trust me, you’ll thank me. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Brienne sighed. And then she turned her phone off. Because she did love him, even when he was being weird.

She had finished her morning research and decided to go for a run on the outdoor track during her lunch break when she heard it. The impossibly loud roar of a chopper touching down on Hardhome University’s baseball diamond. Brienne clapped her ears over her head and stared as the sparkling white chopper gently set down, clouds of brown dust swirling toward home base.

Brienne squinted. Did the helicopter say “Lannister Corp” on the door? The door swung open and a slim woman with waves of gorgeous blond hair stepped out. Oh.

Cersei Lannister delicately placed her designer heels down in the red clay, and even from a thousand yards away, Brienne could see the small grimace as the dirt puffed around the ankles of her navy three piece suit.

Cersei was Jaime’s twin sister and the most beautiful person Brienne knew in real life. She had a movie star glow to her that had always left Brienne somewhat tongue-tied in her presence. It didn’t help matters that Cersei was also completely terrifying.

Brienne was never sure if Cersei actually liked her. Honestly, she wasn’t sure if Cersei actually liked anybody except maybe Jaime. But Cersei approved of her, and Brienne was constantly petrified that someday Cersei might change her mind. Because Cersei was someone you would much rather have on your side than not.

“Brienne, darling!” Cersei had spotted her and waved.

Keenly aware that the every last member of the exercise-during-lunch crowd was staring at her, Brienne pasted a smile on her face and walked over to embrace her.

In addition to being five five to Brienne’s six foot two, Cersei was built like a bird and Brienne had her usual moment of anxiety where she thought if she squeezed too hard she might break her.

“You look amazing,” Brienne blurted, keenly aware that sweat stains were visible through her gray t-shirt.

“For now,” Cersei sniffed. “Has Jaime told you?”

“Jaime hasn’t told me anything,” Brienne said, suddenly remembering his cryptic warning.

“I am pregnant,” Cersei said, with the grave expression of someone sharing a terminal diagnosis.

“Congrats?” Brienne ventured cautiously.

“At any moment my entire body could balloon to twice its size,” Cersei continued grimly.

“I don’t actually think that’s how pregnancy...”

“We are working against the clock.”

“Wait we?”

“Yes Brienne,” Cersei suddenly caught her hand, her enormous green eyes shining softly.

“I have to marry Robert in the greatest wedding the world has ever seen and nobody can realize that I’m pregnant. I have just over two months to put together a ceremony and reception for five hundred people and I simply can’t do it without you.”

Brienne swallowed, eyes frantically skittering anywhere but Cersei’s plaintive gaze.

“I don’t know anything about party planning,” Brienne managed.

“But I do. And I need someone I can trust to carry out my orders to the letter,” Cersei squeezed her hand. “Brienne, will you be my maid of honor?”

There was nothing else for it. Brienne squared her shoulders.

“I would be delighted,” she said firmly.

The soft doe-eyed expression on Cersei’s face immediately gave way to an expression of brisk efficiency.

“Excellent,” Cersei let go of her hand and wiped her palm on her pant leg.

“I have taken the liberty of having my assistant upload the wedding calendar into your personal calendar. I will have her email you the spreadsheet of relevant vendors, and I’ll expect you in Oldtown for the dress fittings next week.”

“Oh I can’t,” Brienne said. “I’m leaving on an archeological dig on Monday for a month.”

“Oh no you’re not doing that any more,” Cersei shook her head.

“You don’t know what I’m talking about,” Brienne said uncertainly. “I haven’t told any—“

“Dr Benjen Stark’s expedition. You were offered the role two weeks ago,” Cersei looked impatient. “Obviously circumstances have changed. I’ve arranged for you to be a research assistant to Archmaester Marwyn in Oldtown this summer instead.”

“Archmaester Marwyn?!” Brienne goggled. “But he doesn’t even take undergraduate applicants! I don’t even have a focus in his field of study!”

“My father helped him out with some nasty business in the Citadel once, he was happy to return the favor. Is field of study an issue? He promised to add you a co-author on his article regarding lost books of history, but if you’d prefer to concentrate on history north of the wall, I think you’ll find him quite... flexible. He’s very brilliant you know. He can write on just about anything.”

Brienne stared at her. To be an undergraduate co-authoring an article with the greatest living historian in the world?! But she wouldn’t really be co-authoring the article, she reminded herself firmly. It would just be her name slapped on some piece of scholarship she’d never even seen. It was academic perjury, plain and simple.

“Absolutely not,” Brienne said firmly. “I really appreciate the opportunity, Cersei, truly. And I’ll talk to the leader of the expedition and see if I can take a weekend off to help with wedding stuff. But I’m going on this dig with Dr. Stark.”

“Oh Brienne,” Cersei smiled gently. “The expedition has been cancelled.”

“What?!”

“Well deferred really. The funding was pulled. I’m sure it’ll be available next year if you still want to go.”

Brienne opened her mouth. And then shut it. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. You can’t shake a pregnant lady. Especially one who weighs like ninety pounds wet.

“So you see, the move to Oldtown is really for the best,” Cersei continued blithely. “Will you be a dear and help me with my luggage. I need to let the helicopter get back to King’s Landing before my father notices I’ve borrowed it.”

“Luggage?” Brienne managed. “You came to stay with me?”

“Of course! It’s not like I know anyone else in Hardhome,” Cersei cast a blatantly unimpressed look around. “Would you believe this school doesn’t have a single helicopter pad?”

Yes.

“How were you going to find me? What if I’d been away?” Brienne answered a little impatiently.

“Jaime said you’re training for a marathon and run at the track during lunch. I tried to call your phone but you weren’t picking up, so I thought I’d just find you here and tell you the news in person,” Cersei tossed her hair. “I thought we could spend the weekend creating a vision board. I’ve heard the air is purer up here so you think more clearly. It’ll be fun! We can get up six, do some yoga, have some tea. I’ll work on the guest list while you go to the library and pull the last five years worth of Vogue magazines. We need something that fits their aesthetic if we want to be featured, but of course it has to have the originality and flair that my public has come to expect.”

“Jaime’s coming this weekend,” Brienne said, perhaps a trifle sulkily.

“Well I should hope so! We’ll need someone to run out and get us salads while we’re haggling with the vendors.”

“I only have one bed,” Brienne said.

“Oh you’re sweet to worry. I’ll take the bed, you can take the sofa, and Jaime can sleep on the floor,” Cersei patted her hand.

“You wouldn’t be more comfortable in a hotel?” Brienne tried one last time hopefully.

“Don’t be silly, I’m staying with you,” Cersei beamed at her. “You are my maid of honor.”

“Cersei’s going to ask you to be her maid of honor, and whatever you do, you must say no,” Jaime blurted the moment he saw her at the airport gate.

Brienne bit her lip. Even slightly rumpled looking, he was absolutely dreamy and he had tried to save her from this madness. He was her knight in shining armor, and if she had to manage a thousand crazed Cersei Lannisters, he would be worth it.

“Oh gods, it’s too late,” he groaned when he saw her expression. She nodded glumly.

Jaime kissed her and as she melted into him, feeling his arms around her, she dared to allow herself to hope that things would be alright.

“It’s going to be a disaster,” Jaime said when they broke the kiss.

Or not.

“My sister has many charming qualities, but she is also a micro-managing control freak with delusions of grandeur. I can think of no woman less temperamentally suited to be an easy-going bride.”

“I know.”

“Also she doesn’t have enough friends to fill out her side of the bridal party. She already made Robert cut his in half and she’s still short. I hope you have blackmail material on somebody because that’s absolutely going to be your job.”

“I know.”

“And Robert?! Have we mentioned Robert?! Wench, he’s going to be my brother-in-law! You know how I feel about Robert,” Jaime groaned.

“I know,” Brienne rolled her eyes at that one. She personally thought Robert was sweet. Sort of boisterous and messy and loud and high-energy, but sweet. Like a golden retriever maybe.

“Don’t roll your eyes! He is the WORST!”

“I thought you thought Ned Stark was the worst,” Brienne laid her head on his shoulder.

“You’re right. Sanctimonious shit. He is the SECOND WORST! Why does everybody like him? Why does everything work out for him? Am I crazy?”

“Yes,” Brienne said soothingly, brushing his hair out of his face. “But I love you anyway.”

Jaime exhaled slowly.

“Wench, I’ve missed you,” he nuzzled her neck. “Why is it that everything feels so much more manageable with you around?”

“Because we’re a team,” Brienne said immediately. “And together, we can handle anything.”

“Even an apocalyptic wedding that will doom us all?”

“It won’t be that bad,” Brienne laughed.

“Perhaps you’re right. We should discuss after we’ve had passionate dorm sex. Things always seem brighter after passionate dorm sex.”

“Oh,” Brienne swallowed. “About that.”

They exited the airport to see Brienne’s car idling in the pick up zone. Cersei pushed her sunglasses down.

“Do hurry up Jaime, we’re losing valuable daylight. Brienne and I will need to sun tan for at least forty-five minutes each day to get a gradual even glow while minimizing skin damage.”

“Oh no,” Jaime froze.

“My skin doesn’t really tan,” Brienne tried to push back her. “Also it’s fifty degrees out.”

“You can still get a suntan in the cold,” Cersei waved away the objection. “We can drink some hot water with lemon, you’re sounding a little strained. I need your voice sounding good for the big speech.”

“Speech?”

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll write you a little something. It’s important for all the speeches to run on theme. Jaime, don’t just stand there!”

Brienne glanced back at Jaime who was still standing forlornly in the sliding door, ignoring it as it slowly opened and shut on him.

She doubled back with a sigh.

“Cersei’s taking the bedroom. We can have passionate dorm sex tonight on the couch as soon as she falls asleep,” Brienne promised, linking her arm with his. That at least got him moving.

Only they couldn’t. Because after an exhausting evening of sun bathing in the freezing cold, shivering over mugs of hot lemon water, applying facial masks and teeth whiteners, and watching a romcom that was nearly ruined by Cersei inexplicably rooting for the villain, Brienne was finally allowed to retire to the sofa where Jaime was already passed out. She had kissed him awake and then giggled as he pulled her closer, sliding his hands up her sides, his eyes glinting dark green in the moonlight. She could feel him under her as he shifted, and she had missed this, missed him, and nothing could ruin this moment.

A blood-curdling scream cut through the night, piercing her very marrow. Okay, well some things could.

Brienne kissed Jaime apologetically and got off of him with a sigh.

“Cersei?” She knocked on the door.

There was another scream. This one sounded angrier. Brienne sighed and pushed her way in.

“That moron! That drunken boorish oaf! That obnoxious belligerent idiotic man child!” Cersei snarled.

Brienne blinked.

“What did Robert do now?”

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