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nimble-stuff · 1 year

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Bingo, babbyyyyyy

XVIII. Chained Heat || Hypno/Warren Hypno and Warren join together.

Fandom: ROTTMNT

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Hypno gawked, uncomprehending, at the instruction manual for the handcuffs. He could fix this. If he couldn’t, he might spend the rest of his days attached to Warren which, while not the worst thing in the world, was a little too close even for them.

Unfortunately for him, the instructions only came in Japanese.

“Yes, it’s a model T-400 Magical Madman’s Handcuffs…No, do NOT put me on hold,” Warren said into the regular-sized cellphone propped up beside him. “Do you know who I am? I am Warren Stone, award-winning news anchor…W—Warren Stone…I am the greatest news anchor ever, you uncultured swine! Are you anti-free speech? Let me speak to your manager immediately!…Yes, I’ll hold for them.”

Warren sulked and folded his arms, while the lower half of his body in the handcuffs that linked him to Hypno’s wrist. They sat on the edge of a skyscraper, safely above the streets where they might cause an unnecessary panic. The concept had been simple: practice a new routine for Hypno’s show, except he’d lost the key somewhere along the way and the cuffs were just a smidgen too tight for him.

Hypno had great love for Warren, but getting handcuffed to him was not the way to show that. It felt like the first major fight they’d had in the relationship and he needed to fix it before a tiny problem became a big one. They both loved spotlights, and neither enjoyed sharing. There were some boundaries in a relationship that weren’t meant to be crossed.

“Don’t worry, Ron, as the brains of this operation, I’ll have this sorted out with the manufacturer in no time,” said Warren. “This might even make a great story. Think of the headlines: Warren Stone busts handcuff manufacturer for unsafe product! Although…if that instruction manual can help us, don’t let me stop you.”

”Erm—right,” said Hypno. “Can you read Japanese?”

“I can read anything if it’s on a cue card. And in English.”

“Alrighty, don’t panic, I’m sure I can figure this out. Or…what about those turtles?”

“Ah, yes, my worst enemies…what about them?”

“They speak Japanese. They can probably translate this.”

“How do turtles learn to speak Japanese? They’re turtles!”

“I don’t know, I’ve never asked. Suppose we ask them to translate? But not the purple one, he might try to kill us, but I’m sure the others would be open to it.”

“The last time we saw those turtles, you knocked the orange one of the tank.”

“That was an accident!”

“No, no, no, no, NO! We are NOT asking the turtles for help, I refuse! They’d hit us before they’d help us, or worse, they’d take pictures and sell it to the papparazi! I can’t end up in the tabloids again, Ron!”

“Fair enough.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t have these handcuffs figured out beforehand.” Warren grinned and nudged Hypno. “Get it? ‘Beforehand?’”

“I should use that in my next show.”

“It’ll make the audience go wild. Seriously, though, can’t you just…” Warren mimed waving his hands around. “Magic?”

“I already tried that, but I suppose I can…try again?”

“That might be for the best while I—yes! This is Warren Stone, world famous news anchor!…I’m waiting to speak to the manager, who is this?…WHAT?! The janitor?! Listen, I have full respect for employees at all levels, and janitors provide an essential service, but I INSIST on speaking to the manager!”

Hypno wiggled his fingers over the cuffs. He could handle this, right? They were just ordinary cuffs…which he’d gotten from a very suspicious bat yōkai who said that ‘they were bonds that could never break.’

He’d eyeball it. What’s the worst that could happen? “Alaka…get-these-handcuffs-off?”

BANG.

Thick smoke swallowed Hypno’s vision. He coughed. Worse, one tug at the cuffs told him that it hadn’t work.

More importantly, Warren started screaming as an intense flame erupted from his hair.

“My hair!” Warren screamed. “My beautiful, beautiful flowing locks! Ron, HELP!”

Hypno did the only logical thing at the moment and slapped his hand on top of the fire, unfortunately forgetting that Warren was…small.

In retrospect, they were lucky that Warren was as durable as he was. Being flattened on the ground was usually a surefire way to kill someone, but for Warren, it was a minor inconvenience. Seeing his body—including his eyeballs—flattened was still disconcerting.

“Warren, talk to me!” Hypno begged. “I’m so sorry!”

“…Never help me again,” Warren said.

“I’m so sorry, Warren! Don’t die!”

“Hypno…give it to me straight…did my hair survive? I’m not sure I want to live if my hair didn’t survive.”

Hypno didn’t know how to break it to him, that his hair—while mostly intact—was smoking and singed black at the tips.

“It’s…It’s not so bad,” said Hypno. “Weren’t you saying that you needed a haircut anyway?”

“What?! Where’s my mirror?!”

Warren rummaged around in his pockets. In the process of getting flattened, his mirror had been thrown free. In a panic, Warren wiggled free of the cuff around his lower body and snatched it to examine his reflection.

“Uh, Warren—” said Hypno.

“I expected this kind of crime from those turtles, but from my life partner?” said Warren.

“Warren?”

“I’ll be honest, Ron, I’m not sure that I can forgive you…but I will, Because our relationship means more to me than a few hair follicles.”

“Warren, you—”

“I just may need some space once we get out of these cuffs, and then I’ll consider forgiveness.”

“Warren!”

Warren swung around to glare at Hypno and he held up the Warren-free cuffs dangling from his wrist.

“…Oh,” said Warren. He perked up and thrust a fist skywards. “Once again, Warren Stone has gotten us out of this sticky situation with the power of freedom of speech! You see, Ron? I told you we wouldn’t need those pesky amphibians to translate anything.”

“…I thought turtles were reptiles.”

“Turtles can breathe water. Therefore, they are amphibians.”

“No, fish breath water. Amphibians just need water to survive, but they don’t have to breathe it. I think.”

“I once did as very in-depth report on turtles back when I was an intern. I know my turtle facts, and turtles are definitely amphibians.”

Hypno debated it. Who was he going to believe? His faulty memory or his life partner? The answer was obvious.

“Right, turtles are amphibians,” Hypno agreed. He looked at the cuff still attached to his wrist. “I wish I knew how to get this side off, however…”

Warren nudged Hypno’s side with a sly smile. “Well, they aren’t the wedding rings I had in mind, but anything that has you attached to isn’t all that bad.”

#rottmnt #Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt hypno-potamus #rottmnt warren stone #hippoworm #badthingshappenbingo

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

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The Sommelier (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 1

Ding dong fannibals I’m back on my bullshit :)

I discovered that I cannot for the life of me be concise so this one might come in a couple parts. I don't anticipate it's gonna go as long as Cult Girl but we'll see. Y/n is an introverted waitress at a fancy restaurant with a crush on a mysterious regular. An encounter with a dangerous criminal pulls her into his world.

Trigger warnings: graphic descriptions of violence; implied drug use; religiously-motivated violence.

In some ways, waitressing was the perfect job for an introvert. Customers didn’t see you as a person, they saw you as an NPC. As long as that was the case, you weren’t expected to engage with them beyond the script: you take their order, bring them the food and they, hopefully, leave a tip. To ensure that, you perfected the art of fake happiness. You were there to make money, not friends.

Well, there was an exception to every rule. Yours was the sommelier.

The sommelier was a regular at the restaurant, but never ordered a meal. He mostly just sat at the bar, drank expensive wine, and watched the people come and go for hours at a time. Among the waitstaff, he was a bit of a local cryptid. Waitresses whispered about the handsome gentleman with an unidentifiable accent and deep pockets. About how lucky you had to be to score a bartending shift on one of the nights he showed up. It got to the point where bartending shifts were swapped like currency, because every woman on staff wanted the chance to meet the sommelier.

One of the more religious line chefs liked to remind you all that the devil would come as everything you could ever desire. He was fully convinced that the sommelier was Satan incarnate, and he wasn’t completely off the mark. Standing at six feet tall with features sharp enough to cut diamonds, the sommelier wouldn’t look out of place in a vampire thriller. He always dressed in dark suits. Your coworkers hypothesized this was so the bloodstains wouldn’t show. Despite the chef’s well-intended (if not condescending) warnings, even the threat of eternal damnation couldn’t scare you off.

As much as you liked to believe you were above stupid workplace gossip, you knew you weren’t. You were never the most socially adept person, but this gave you something to connect over. It’s how you discovered that you and the other waitresses were all in the same boat; broke, lonely and in desperate need of some excitement. And if that came in the form of a wine-loving vampire taking a liking to your restaurant, there were certainly worse ways to go.

Unfortunately, not even the chance at encountering the sommelier could make you look forward to working Easter Sunday. Your manager had you working from noon to midnight that day. As employers went, he wasn’t much of a tyrant. He offered you time and a half and even let you switch from waiting tables to bartending halfway through the shift. He, too, knew how coveted the bartending shifts were. And you weren’t in any position to refuse, either. You quite enjoyed having a roof over your head and food in your stomach.

That didn’t make up for the fact that most of the other twenty-something employees had left for the holiday, and you were one of the few stragglers left available. Easter was the most dreaded workday of the year, because the infamous after-church crowd quadrupled in size and lasted all day. They came in double-digit parties, had no concept of birth control and tipped in prayer. Too many times had you reached for what looked like a generous cash tip, only to find that it was a church pamphlet disguised as a fifty.

You clocked in at noon exactly, after waiting for the second hand to pass the twelve just to be sure.

“[F/N]!” Your coworker, Charissa, grabbed your attention before you could walk away. “I heard you’re at the bar this evening. Congratulations.”

“He’s not going to show up, Charissa.” You rolled your eyes. You decided to go into this shift expecting the absolute worst, that way you wouldn’t be setting yourself up for disappointment. “It’s Easter.”

“You don’t know that.” Charissa nudged you in the side.

You grinned. “Why would a vampire come to dinner on the one day everyone is gonna be wearing a cross?”

“Oh, shit, I didn’t think of that.” Charissa gasped. “Well, good luck anyway.”

The first wave of customers filing through the door and filling the restaurant with noise pushed all optimism out of your head. Sighing, you approached a person that Charissa had already seated.

“Hi, my name is [F/N], I’ll be your server today.” You greeted the first customer in your block. “Can I get you something to drink today?”

The man couldn’t have been a day over twenty-five, if that. He was still lively in a way that meant he hadn’t experienced the drain that was a minimum wage job. He was wearing a shirt that said ‘on fire for Christ’ under a flannel with no buttons. One look and you knew he wasn’t going to tip.

The man flashed a row of eerily white teeth. “I thought you said you would bring the wine?”

You momentarily thought you’d already taken his drink order and shook your head. “I’m sorry, did I--”

“Ah, I see your confusion.” The man shrugged and forced a laugh. “You’re waitressing this week, you and I are going on a date next week. My mistake.”

Great. You thought. It hasn't even been five minutes and I'm already being gaslit.

Any interaction that forced you to go off-script was bad, but this was a particularly irritating diversion. “Would you like to see a wine list?”

“I’m Chase.” He said. “It’s nice to meet you, [F/N].”

“Have you decided on a drink?” You repeated, trying not to grit your teeth too obviously.

"I'll have a glass of your finest coke, please." He faked an English accent, poorly.

"We only carry Pepsi products." You said, dreading how this joker would react to such a minor inconvenience.

He threw his head back and made a face like he had just taken a bullet to the chest. "No, it's gotta be coke! It's coke or nothing!"

"Did you want something else, then?" You tried to hurry him along. "The bartender makes a very nice mimosa-"

He smacked the table as if he had some urgent question. "McDonald's or Chick-Fil-A? There is a right answer, so choose wisely."

"...uh," You mumbled, just praying that he would order a drink already. There wasn't even a Chick-fil-A in the area. "I like McDonald's."

Again, he acted like he was shot in the chest. "Oh, you're down zero to two!"

"If you need a few minutes to select a drink," You said. "I can come back-"

He grabbed your arm and forced a laugh. "I'm just kidding around with you, [F/N]. Pepsi is fine."

You scribbled the order down on your notepad, mostly just to pry your wrist from his grip. You wanted to go into the bathroom and scrub yourself down, but perhaps it was just easier to chop the whole arm off. That way you could get worker's compensation, too.

The tables were filling up and you had spent far too long coaxing a drink order out of this youth pastor creep. You had actual families to wait on. The shift was off to a horrible start.

You made him wait for as long as you could get away with. You took drink orders from three full booths before returning to the youth pastor. Because you knew he was raring to corner you again.

You planted the pop in front of him, the glass already wet with condensation. "Have you decided on a meal?"

"I was just looking over this menu and something caught my eye." He began, looking at the holiday menu your manager had printed off. "This rack of lamb, it's a special, right?"

"Right." You nodded. "It's a pretty large meal, though, so I'd recommend sharing it-"

"No, y'see.." he cut you off. "Jesus was the lamb of god. He died on the cross for your sins. And, look!"

He pointed to the menu. "It says it's a 'praying hands' lamb!"

"Oh!" You forced yet another smile. "I can see the confusion. That just refers to how the rack is arranged."

"I think it's a sign from god." He said.

You demonstrated the shape of the dish with your fingers. "See, the rib bones are long and the racks are Frenched, so the dish takes the shape of a pair of, well, praying hands."

"I'll take it." He nodded furiously.

He took a sharp breath in through his nose and you started to seriously wonder if his definition of "coke or nothing" had a double meaning. It formulated in your head as a joke, but it became more and more of a serious inquiry by the minute.

You leaned in just slightly to get a closer look at his face. Some details you hadn't noticed before were beginning to come into focus. His eyes were vacant and glassy. A small but noticeable stream of blood trickled from his nostril.

"Sir?" You said in a clear, projected voice. "Is there someone I could call for you?"

He turned his head. "Jesus died for your sins."

You looked around the room for any sign of your manager, a supervisor or anyone with a shred of authority. "This man needs help!"

In your haste to call attention to the situation, you didn't see him pick up his steak knife.

"You want to know what Jesus felt when you pierced him?" He muttered, just loud enough for your ears alone.

You felt the serrated knife puncture your skin before you had time to process his words. The pain shot through your body, making you freeze in place.

A chorus of screams filled the restaurant. Blood was pouring from the open wound in a quantity you didn't think possible. Underneath, the knife went straight through your hand and into the table.

The man gripped the handle and gave it a twist, a look of horrifying pleasure on his face. At this point, several people had stepped in to restrain him. He was tall and athletic and could easily overpower many of the other customers, which he did. He found another steak knife and began to cut throats while chanting an incomprehensible prayer.

An older woman claiming to be a doctor rushed to your side. She made a makeshift tourniquet from a napkin and a butter knife. Everything after that was a blur. You struggled to stay conscious as the woman tried to guide the knife from the table while keeping it embedded in your hand.

Soon enough, police and ambulances arrived on the scene. The woman placed you in the care of one of the many EMTs, then rushed away to assist the others.

"I'm just doing what Jesus says!" The youth pastor shouted, before gouging his knife into another man's throat. "Spreading his love!"

The officers notably didn't open fire and made an attempt to de-escalate. Maybe that was how the youth pastor was able to escape.

#hannibal nbc #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #tw religion #tw christianity #long form #tw customer service #tw blood #tw violence

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the-trans-otter33 · 3 years

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Poetry Night

Posted on Ao3:

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Analogical - Relationship, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders Characters: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders Additional Tags: gay boys, Kissing, Poetry, College, Logan is in college, hes an english major, Virgil is an EMT, no they didnt meet in college, they both love poetry, yes they have facial hair, sue me, im unconditional in the boys styles, poem, apartment roommates, please ignore typos I beg, Virgil put out a roommate application form btw Summary:

Virgil and Logan go to Poetry night together every weekend at Virgil's favorite nightclub. Neither of them have every shared any of their work. But Virgil figured that now was the time to change that.

~~~~~~~~~~

Logan shuffled uncomfortably. Virgil had a hold of his index finger, as to not hold the entirety of his crush’s hand. Virgil led them through a crowd of people at his favorite nightclub.

Ever since meeting Logan, he’s got to admit the amount of times he’s showed up for poetry night has increased tremendously. Poetry night was really the only time anyone ever saw him there but even then he didn’t go every night. Then when Logan arrived as his new roommate in his apartment, he became a regular there. Both of them went every single time Poetry night was an event.

Logan absolutely loved poetry, it was his favorite thing. Besides Virgil anyway. Virgil and Logan had been crushing over each since day one, but neither of them wanted to admit it. Logan, as an English major (and creative writing minor in a nearby college) was more than ecstatic when he learned that his roomie had a secret passion for poetry too. It did seem a little odd to Logan at first, Virgil being an EMT in training and all.

Virgil was an anxious ball of messiness most of the time, but there’s nothing more exhilarating to him than having a chance to save someone's life. That's why he became an EMT. He wasn’t a full paramedic yet, but he did just get hired. When Logan learned of this, it truly did just make him swoon even more. A part of him wanted to have a heart attack just so the hot emo EMT he lived with could resuscitate him.

Nevertheless, they both loved poetry and secretly each other. They had lived together for 3 years now and Virgil wanted to do something before Logan got his degree. Virgil, at this point, could barely handle himself whenever he looked at Logan. His roommate had changed so much since when they first met.

A lot of that is Virgil’s fault, making Logan feel more comfortable with his sexuality and his off putting personality that he grew up to hate.

Virgil had watched Logan change from a silent, short haired, clean shaven, polo wearing nerd into a Long haired (he usually wears a man-bun that kills Virgil) , bearded hipster that bore fancy dress shoes, perfect black slacks with his suspenders flowing to the floor whenever he unhooked them from his shoulders.

He always wore different colored button ups (Virgil's favorite has a rainbow pattern) and depending on his mood, a suit vest or one of Virgil’s jackets. At some point, all of their laundry got mixed up and the two gays were so tired that they agreed to just share their wardrobes and wear whatever they wanted. This also killed Virgil, deep down to his core.

Logan has done a lot of the same for Virgil. He encouraged him to dye his hair (pure white) and cut it into a messy (yet somehow smooth???) Mohawk. It was at that point that Virgil decided to get an eyebrow and lip piercing. He was lucky they lived in such a liberal area too, otherwise he’d never get hired as an EMT anywhere else.

Virgil also bore his brown sideburns, letting them grow out after Logan threw the shaving products out of their 7th floor window in a fit of rage (It’s a long story).

Virgil pretty much wore the same exact clothes as before, just with Logan’s wardrobe added in for whenever he felt like it.

Currently though, Logan was being placed right in front of the 4-feet-off-the-ground stage. It was practically nothing to him and Virgil, both of the men being 6’3 in height.

“Virgil, when exactly are you going to tell me what is going on right now?” Logan gained that little smile of his, crossing his arms as Virgil took a step back.

“Well, I can’t exactly tell you, Lo. But I need you to just stay right there and don’t move for the next,” he checked his watch, “minute and twenty-five seconds?” Virgil spoke with a shrug and shield of nervous energy.

Logan nodded, “Sure.”

Virgil kind of hopped between his feet. “I’ll be right back, I guess. You’ll see me.” He didn’t give Logan much time to argue, given as he bolted from the area and Logan actually lost that tall EMT in the crowd. Damn Virgil’s anxiety fueled methods at making himself blend in like a damn chameleon.

Logan looked around. He hoped that Virgil would get back sooner than just a minute. He wouldn’t want Virge to miss the poetry displays and he would hate to miss staring at Virgil getting lost in the words spoken from the stage they yearned to be at every weekend.

That is, until the lights dimmed and the crowd shushed itself. A silhouette of some tall man could be seen sliding across the stage, to the center. Logan’s eyebrows raised and his eyes widened in shock as the lights slowly brightened once more. And there he was.

Virgil stood there, where Logan dreamed of seeing his crush so frequently. Virgil had the microphone in hand, refusing to look anywhere but Logan. He had never shared his poetry to anyone before, besides his roommate but that was a given.

Virgil cleared his throat before he began to speak, clearly having memorized his piece.

“There’s something there that I hold, hidden within the halls,

It surrounds my very being, my every breath, it even bounces like a rubber ball.

Here where I stand, it is so clear, that this thing I hold is very dear to me,

It seems to be a man, wearing glasses and bearing a bun I can’t ever not see.

He’s tall and free, a lot like me.

Bonded by homosexuality,

those beautiful hazel eyes see me for me and have always cared.

It was in recent times that I dared to plot my scheme, after three years.

In terms of dating, both him and I are wet behind the ears,

But I’d love to give it a try if he’d be mine.

Who is this man, I see everyday?

A man I share my home, my life, my everything with?

He’s here with us today, among the crowd of eyes.

There he stands, right in the middle.

Logan McNamara

I’ll speak the truth and ignore the lies.

Would you like to become mine?”

Virgil connected his and Logan’s eyes, letting a smile wash over his face. Logan felt heat rise upon his cheeks, tears almost coming to his eyes as he felt his body move involuntarily. Everyone in the crowd was watching him and Virgil, waiting to see if Logan would say yes.

Logan moved to the stage and lifted himself onto it. He marched over to Virgil, who watched him with anxious eyes and that beautiful smile. Logan took the microphone from his crush’s hand and tossed it aside.

“Virgil?”

“Logan?”

“Yes.” Logan stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Virgil’s torso. Virgil quickly wrapped his around Logan's torso and neck before the English major leant forward, connecting their two lips with a sweet chaste kiss.

#analogical #logan sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #queer #gay #kissing #romance #poetry #poems #I wrote the poem btw #just so no one else thinks I took it from somewhere #idk #I didnt proofread btw #so ignore typos

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archive-archives · 3 years

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Coming in April!

NEW 2020 1080p HD masters JOSIE AND THE PUSSYCATS IN OUTER SPACE

Run Time 352:00

Subtitles English SDH

Audio Specs DTS HD-Master Audio 2.0 - English, MONO - English

Aspect Ratio 1.33:1 4x3 FULL FRAME

Product Color COLOR

Disc Configuration 2 BD 50

Rock stars Josie and the Pussycats are out of this world...literally! When the bumbling Alexandra accidentally launches Josie and the gang into outer space, they travel through the galaxy searching for a path back to Earth. Along the way, they meet cat people, robot monsters, evil dictators, space pirates and plenty of strange creatures, including their new companion Bleep, voiced by Hanna-Barbera legend Don Messick. Fortunately, everyone’s a fan of Josie and the Pussycats, including aliens! Rocket through the universe with your favorite superstars as they save the day, sing some songs and have a hip-happenin’ good time in a 2-disc, 16-episode Josie and the Pussycats in Outer Space complete series collection that hits all the right notes!

NEW 2021 1080p HD Master Sourced from 4K scan of preservation film elements!

GREEN DOLPHIN STREET

Run Time 141:00

Subtitles English SDH

Audio Specs: DTS HD-Master Audio 2.0 - English, MONO - English

Aspect Ratio: 1.37:1 4x3 FULL FRAME

Product Color BLACK & WHITE

Disc Configuration BD 50

Special Features: Lux Radio Theater Broadcast; Theatrical Trailer (HD)

The Academy Award® winner about star-crossed love that spans the years – and the globe. After her triumph as the lunchroom temptress in the crime classic The Postman Always Rings Twice, Lana Turner expanded her range with Green Dolphin Street. Set in 19th century Europe and New Zealand, this sweeping romance tells the story of two beautiful sisters, one headstrong (Turner) and one gentle (Donna Reed), and of the man (Richard Hart) who marries one even though he loves the other. The film’s riptides of emotion are matched by breathtaking physical tumult: a fierce Maori uprising plus a catastrophic earthquake and tidal wave that earned the film a 1947 Oscar® for special effects. With its dramatic story and spectacular visuals, Green Dolphin Street drew huge audiences for epic moviemaking, being one of the top-ten box office hits of the year.

NEW 2021 1080p HD Master Sourced from 4K scan of Nitrate preservation elements!

BROADWAY MELODY OF 1940

Run Time 102:00

Subtitles English SDH

Audio Specs: DTS HD-Master Audio 2.0 - English, MONO - English

Aspect Ratio: 1.37:1 4x3 FULL FRAME

Product Color BLACK & WHITE

Disc Configuration BD 50

Special Features: Making-of Featurette: "Begin the Beguine" (hosted by Ann Miller); "Our Gang Comedies: The Big Premiere"; MGM Cartoon: "The Milky Way" ; Original Theatrical Trailer (HD)

The job – a career breakthrough – is supposed to go to hoofer Johnny Brett, but a mix-up in names gives it to his partner. Another example of Broadway hopes dashed? Not when Johnny is played by Fred Astaire. Sparkling Cole Porter songs, clever comedy and dance legends Astaire and Eleanor Powell make the final Broadway Melody (co-starring George Murphy) a film to remember. Powell’s nautical “All Ashore" routine (a/k/a I Am the Captain”), Astaire’s blissful “I’ve Got My Eyes on You” and Fred & Eleanor's elaborate routine to Cole Porter's classic "I Concentrate On You" are more than enough to please any fan. But they’re just a warm-up for the leads to tap one finale number into immortality: “Begin the Beguine,” introduced by Frank Sinatra in That’s Entertainment! with, “You can wait around and hope, but you’ll never see the likes of this again.”

NEW 2021 1080p HD Master Sourced from a new 4K restoration of the last-known surviving nitrate Technicolor print!

DOCTOR X (1932)

Run Time 76:00

Subtitles English SDH

Audio Specs: DTS HD-Master Audio 2.0 - English, MONO - English

Aspect Ratio: 1.37:1 4x3 FULL FRAME

Product Color COLOR; BLACK & WHITE

Disc Configuration BD 50

Special Features: Alternate B&W version of feature; DOCTOR X (HD): UCLA Before & After Restoration featurette (HD); New documentary: "Monsters and Mayhem: The Horror Films of Michael Curtiz (HD); New feature commentary by author/film historian Alan K. Rode; Archival feature commentary by Scott MacQueen, head of preservation, UCLA Film and Television Archive. Original B&W Theatrical Trailer (HD)

Is there a (mad) doctor in the house? “Yes!” shrieks Doctor X, filmed in rare two-strip Technicolor®. An eminent scientist aims to solve a murder spree by re-creating the crimes in a lab filled with all the dials, gizmos, bubbling beakers and crackling electrostatic charges essential to the genre. Lionel Atwill is Doctor Xavier, pre-King Kong scream queen Fay Wray is a distressed damsel and Lee Tracy snaps newshound patter, all under the direction of renowned Michael Curtiz. The new two-color Technicolor master was restored by UCLA Film and Television Archive and The Film Foundation in association with Warner Bros. Entertainment. Funding provided by the Hobson/Lucas Foundation. Also includes the separately filmed B&W version (which has been restored and restored from its original nitrate camera negative) originally intended for small U.S. markets and International distribution, and which has been out of distribution for over 30 years.

NEW 2021 1080p HD Master Sourced from 4K scan of original nitrate Technicolor negatives!

ANNIE GET YOUR GUN (1950)

Run Time 107:00

Subtitles English SDH

Sound Quality DTS HD-Master Audio 2.0 - English

Aspect Ratio 1.37:1 4x3 FULL FRAME

Product Color COLOR

Disc Configuration BD 50

Special Features: Susan Lucci retrospective & intro piece (from 2000 DVD release); Outtakes: Let’s Go West Again-Betty Hutton, Doin’ What Comes Natur’lly-Judy Garland, I’m an Indian, Too-Judy Garland, Colonel Buffalo Bill with Howard Keel and Frank Morgan; Stereo audio pre-recording session tracks including There’s No Business Like Show Business featuring Judy Garland; Theatrical Re-issue Trailer (HD)

Betty Hutton (as Annie Oakley) and Howard Keel (as Frank Butler) star in this sharpshootin’ funfest based on the 1,147-performance Broadway smash boasting Irving Berlin’s beloved score, including “Doin’ What Comes Natur’lly,” “I Got the Sun in the Morning” and the anthemic “There’s No Business Like Show Business.” As produced by Arthur Freed, directed by George Sidney, and seen and heard in this new remastered HD presentation, this lavish, spirited production showcases songs and performances with bull’s-eye precision, earning an Oscar®* for adaptation scoring. The story is a brawling boy-meets-girl-meets-buckshot rivalry. But love finally triumphs when Annie proves that, yes, you can get a man with a gun!

NEW 2021 1080p HD Master! QUICK CHANGE (1990)

Run Time 88:00

Subtitles English SDH

Sound Quality DTS HD-Master Audio 2.0 - English

Aspect Ratio 1.85:1, 16 X 9 WIDESCREEN

Product Color COLOR

Disc Configuration BD 25

Special Feature: Theatrical Trailer

The star of Caddyshack, Ghostbusters and Groundhog Day headlines and codirects this uproarious Big Apple heist-and-pursuit caper. Bill Murray plays Grimm, a frazzled urbanite who disguises himself as a clown – and sets out to rob a bank. Geena Davis and Randy Quaid play accomplices in Grimm’s daring scheme and Jason Robards is the blustery cop caught up in Grimm’s “Clown Day Afternoon.” Swiping a million bucks is a snap compared to getting out of town. Grimm and cohorts commandeer a car, a cab, a bus, a baggage tram and a plane (and encounter future stars Stanley Tucci and Tony Shalhoub in hilarious supporting roles) to make what becomes a less-than-merry escape. But for comedy lovers, Quick Change is a ticket to ride!

NEW 2021 1080p HD Master Sourced from 4K scan of best surviving nitrate preservation elements! EACH DAWN I DIE (1939)

Run Time 92:00

Subtitles English SDH

Audio Specs: DTS HD-Master Audio 2.0 - English, MONO - English

Aspect Ratio: 1.37:1 4x3 FULL FRAME

Product Color BLACK & WHITE

Disc Configuration BD 50

Special Features: Warner Night at the Movies including 1939 Short Subjects Gallery: Vintage Newsreel, WB Technicolor Short: "A Day at Santa Anita", WB Cartoon: "Detouring America"; Restrospective featurette: "Stool Pigeons and Pine Overcoats: The Language of Gangster Films" ; Feature Commentary by Film Historian Haden Guest; Breakdowns of 1939: Studio Blooper Reel; WB Cartoon: "Each Dawn I Crow"; Radio show w/George Raft & Franchot Tone; Trailer for "Wings of the Navy" and Original Theatrical Trailer for Each Dawn I Die (HD)

Framed for manslaughter after he breaks a story about city corruption, reporter Frank Ross is sure he’ll prove his innocence and walk out of prison a free man. But that’s not how the system works at Rocky Point Penitentiary. There, cellblock guards are vicious, the jute-mill labor is endless, and the powers Ross fought on the outside conspire to keep him in. Frank’s hope is turned to hopelessness. And he’s starting to crack. Two of the screen’s famed tough guys star in this prison movie that casts a reform-minded eye on the brutalizing effects of life in the slammer. James Cagney “hits a white-hot peak as [Ross,] the embittered, stir-crazy fall guy” (Leonard Maltin’s Movie Guide). And George Raft (Cagney’s friend since their vaudeville days) portrays racketeer Hood Stacey, who may hold the key to springing Ross.

NEW 2021 1080p HD Master Sourced from 4K scan of best surviving preservation elements!

ANOTHER THIN MAN (1939)

Run Time 102:00

Subtitles English SDH

Audio Specs: DTS HD-Master Audio 2.0 - English, MONO - English

Aspect Ratio: 1.37:1 4x3 FULL FRAME

Product Color BLACK & WHITE

Disc Configuration BD 50

Special Features: M-G-M Musical Short: Love on Tap; Classic M-G-M Cartoon: The Bookworm

Dum-Dum, Wacky, Creeps, Fingers: They’re just a few of the hoodlums in the world of amateur sleuths and professional bon vivants Nick and Nora Charles. And now there’s a new hood: parenthood. A birthday – make that boithday – party that some of da boys hold for infant Nick Jr. is part of the fun in this third film in the witty series. The case begins when the Charles family arrives for a weekend with a Long Island industrialist who fears someone wants to kill him. Sure enough, his fears come true. Nick (William Powell) is among the suspects. Asta scrams with what may be the murder weapon. And Nora (Myrna Loy) has her own ideas about the case and sneaks off to a nightclub to ferret out a clue. “Madam, how long have you been leading this double life?” Nick asks. “Just since we’ve been married,” she replies.

#wac

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angrylizardjacket · 4 years

Text

the band with no name {Douglas Booth} Part 3

A/N: 3050 words. Is this good? i genuinely don’t know.

[PART 2]

----

“I’m not getting a tattoo,” Douglas tells Colson flatly on Friday, still using his Nikki accent, arms crossed in between takes. They’re milling around on the Starwood set for the band’s first gig, and Douglas is in a pair of bright red, plastic boots with a considerable heel, that come all the way up his thighs, and pinch his toes. He’s already in a mood, he doesn’t need Colson’s shit-eating grin.

“I never said -” Colson tries, but he’s still grinning, can’t help himself.

“You implied,” Douglas frowns, shifting his weight on his feet. It didn’t help, “I’m not just going to show up where she works and pretend like I’m going to be a customer, that’s- it’s disingenuous, man,” the English accent slips out a little, but he corrects himself quickly, “and it’s stalking.”

“It’s not stalking -”

“It is if I’m not going to actually get a tattoo,” Douglas raises his eyebrows, watching as Colson spins idly on his drum stool.

“Fine, I’ll get a tattoo, and you can come for moral support or whatever,” he shrugs.

“Still kind of sounds like stalking,” Daniel adds from the edge of the stage, where he’s patiently sitting while a makeup assistant applies fake blood to his cheek. Beside her stands Jonah, the production assistant, diligently holding the bottle cap full of red liquid she was working from. They share a quietly amused look before Jonah glances at Colson, and the woman goes back to work.

“He’s not wrong,” Jonah agrees, and Colson throws his head back with an exasperated groan.

“And Corey said he’d personally skin you if you got any tattoos during filming,” the makeup assistant reminded him. Colson swore under his breath, scowling at the memory, but conceding defeat.

“When’s her gig?” Iwan asked from where he’d been sitting on his amp, texting and drinking water.

“Saturday,” Douglas said with an immediate smile. Thankfully no-one was looking at him enough to call him on it.

“Where?” Daniel asks, a hint of mischief in his voice.

“Around,” Douglas answered evasively, expression souring almost immediately.

“Is that a club, or...?” Colson asks, trying to be discrete where he was pulling out his phone. Douglas kind of regrets roping any of them into this.

“Where she’s playing doesn’t matter, because none of you are going, okay?”

“Come on, man, don’t you trust us?” Said by Colson, trying his best to pull off puppy-dog eyes in his Tommy Lee costume and hair, is the absolute last thing that would help Doulgas trust him, or any of them.

“Absolutely not,” though he’s smiling a little at their antics.

“You’re the one who wanted our help,” Daniel throws over his shoulder, and the makeup assistant tells him to stay still.

“You assholes couldn’t keep your noses in your own business; I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“They’re playing Casa Cristo at ten tomorrow night,” Colson announces, blatantly ignoring Douglas, whose whole expression has scrunched into something sour by the time Colson looks back up. He holds out his phone, showing off a photo of your band with the date and time superimposed over it, “it’s on their story.” He says by way of explanation.

“How far away is that?” Iwan asks, and the makeup assistant pauses, and looks to Jonah.

“Fifteen minute drive?” She asks, and they confirm with a nod. Douglas’ dawning horror is kind of funny to watch.

“Have a little bit of faith in us,” Iwan said, with as much of an apologetic smile as he could manage.

“You,” Douglas looked to him, “I have mild faith in; you’re not the one I’m worried about.” At that, both Daniel and Colson make noises of outrage at the implication.

“I’ve been helping you!” Colson exclaimed, betrayed, and Douglas gave him a sidelong glance.

“And honestly, you were doing great at it until you suggested I should find out where she works and get a whole tattoo just to spend time with her.”

“I never suggested -!”

“You implied!”

During the entire car ride to your gig the following day, Douglas strongly contemplates sending you an apology in advance. Literally everyone in the car, including Jonah, who was driving, and the makeup assistant, Ally, who’d tagged along because she’d become invested after they’d filled her in on the fake-band deal, tells him it’s a bad idea.

“We’ll be fine, there’s nothing to apologise for, we’re not gonna helicopter parent,” Colson teased, trying to pinch at Douglas’ cheek, though he slapped him away.

“That kind of shit is exactly what I’m afraid of,” Douglas warned him, pointing a stern finger at him.

“We’ll hold him back,” Daniel says with a half smile; he’s been trying to act less nosy and more trustworthy since yesterday, apparently taking Douglas’ words to heart.

“We’ll try,” Iwan grins, as if momentarily possessed by the spirit of Mick Mars, about to watch his bandmates cause havoc and do very little to stop it. Why was Daniel the one Douglas had been worried about again?

Anyways, nosy bastards the lot of them.

Casa Cristo is already thumping with music by the time they all arrive, fashionably late at ten thirty, all still sporting the remnants of their makeup after filming had wrapped for the day.

When they walk in, AC/DC’s You Shook Me All Night Long is just beginning, and you’re on stage, backlit by the LED parcans you’d brought to add a little something extra to the performance, sculling a pint of water like your life depended on it while the other two thirds of your band’s trio played through the opening of the song.

“She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean; she was the best damn woman that I’ve ever seen,” you leaned into your microphone with a sharp smile as you looked out at the crowd and the dancefloor.

Like always, you’re a sight to behold, in black ripped jeans this time, and a shirt that was more hole than fabric, showing off your fancy bra beneath. There’s what looks to be a leather jacket in a heap beside your bass amp, and you’re rocking in time with the beat as you play your bass.

“That her?” Ally asks over the music; everyone nods in confirmation, “she’s hot as hell; you’ve got good taste.” Douglas can’t help his smile as he moves to the bar to order a drink. The song leads into I Was Made For Loving You by KISS, and then Cum On Feel The Noize, after which the set came to an end, and you promised to be back. The guitarist stops you before you head into the crowd, and the two of you talk in low voices for a moment before he points directly at the gaggle of actors sitting to the back of the room.

Your expression lights up when you spot them. Douglas pretends his heart doesn’t leap at the sight. Jonah head to the courtyard to smoke, joined by Daniel and Iwan, while Ally had headed to the bar, leaving, thankfully, only Douglas and Colson.

You head to the bar first to get a drink, but once you have, you make a beeline for them.

“The band with no name, back again; I don’t know if I should feel flattered or threatened,” you grin, bright and sincere as you say it, joining them at the table they’d commandeered. You’re a little sweaty from rocking out, shining and a little ethereal in the dim club lights.

“We’re scoping out the competition,” Colson grins, titling his glass to you to cheers, which you comply with happily.

“I think that means we have to play some Crue to show you how it’s done,” you answer in kind, shifting your weight on your feet, turning to face Douglas, “how about it? Think I could show you a thing or two?”

“I’d say it’s a good thing Nikki Sixx was busy if it means I get to learn a thing or two from you instead,” Douglas hears himself say, and for a single instant, he’s terrified he’s blown his cover. Your mouth falls open in flustered shock, and your eyes go wide, something pleased amid the surprise in your expression. Colson is holding very still in an effort to not draw attention to himself.

Suddenly, you duck your head, muttering that he’s far too kind, unable to look him in the eye. When you finally do manage to regain your composure, you ask if he wants anything to drink, gesturing to his mostly empty cup.

“It’s fine, I can -” he tries to save you the trouble, but you insist that it’s no trouble.

“You can buy me one later,” and okay there’s absolutely no way to miss the flirty tone of your voice. Douglas really hopes the lights are hiding his slight flush, because he knows they’re absolutely not hiding his own pleased grin.

As you head to the bar, Colson lets out the breath he’d aparently been holding, eyes wide and grin wider as he looks at Douglas.

“What?” Douglas snaps, still feeling the heat in his cheeks.

“That was smooth as hell, my dude,” Colson tells him sincerely, and Douglas lets himself be a little smug.

“You know I do know how to chat up a girl, right?” He asks, and Colson raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Never said you couldn’t.”

“Just took me a bit to figure out Y/N; I’m not bad at it when I kind of know who I’m talking to.”

“Not bad a it?! Fuck, man, that was a bullseye; she’s literally buying you a drink -”

“Who?” Daniel asked, rejoining the group, alongside Ally, who was nursing an espresso martini.

“Turns out Doug’s actually got some game,” Colson smirked, though Douglas just rolled his eyes.

“Of course he has,” Daniel said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “look at his face; that jawline’s got more game than half the guys in here.”

“And the eyeliner,” Ally added with an appreciative nod, which Daniel agreed with easily. At least they were being supportive. By the time you come back, Ally’s trying to reapply eyeliner to Daniel’s waterline and he’s concerned that she won’t be able to see what she’s doing in the dim light and will poke him in the eye.

“I’ll poke you in the eye on purpose, stop moving!” She yelled, his chin held tight between her fingers. You placed the drink down in front of Douglas, slotting easily into the space beside him, agonizingly close, almost touching him but not quite. You watch with confused amusement fore a few moments before Ally finishes up with a flourish; she seems surprised to see you there, and does a double take.

“Y/N,” you offer with a smile, holding out your hand, “are you the one responsible for their eyeliner? Because I must say, I definitely appreciate it,” you grin sharply. Ally shakes your hand after capping her eyeliner and shoving it back in her pocket.

“Ally, and yes, I’m the band’s stylist,” she lies easily, and your eyebrows raise.

“That first gig’s going to be something spectacular if they already have a stylist,” you muse.

“We have a name now too,” Daniel adds, blinking rapidly, trying to clear the tears from his eyes from where they’d been watering from the makeup. You make a noise of intrigue, and Douglas buries his face in his free hand, “The Fourskins.”

“The Fourskins.” You say tentatively, as if trying to hold back laughter, leaning in just enough that your shoulder was touching Douglas’s.

“Because there’s four of us and we play without shirts,” Colson adds, and Douglas chokes on his drink momentarily. If you ever end up watching The Dirt, you’re probably going to end up throttling them all for thinking that this was at all subtle.

As it stands, however, you just nod, and turn the name over in your mind, finally declaring that it works. It’s not long before Iwan and Jonah come back with your drummer in tow, and as soon as your saying hello to the other two, you’re being called back on stage.

“This next one’s for you guys!” You called over your shoulder with a grin as you’re slipping through the crowd towards the stage. The six at the table all chattered amongst themselves, trying to guess which song you’d play; Kickstart My Heart, Take Me To The Top, and Live Wire were all pretty far at the top of the list. After a brief chat with your band, however, you’d turned your bass back on and leaned into the microphone, giving a very distinctive laugh.

And you start to play She Goes Down.

“I think I love her,” Colson snorted, a sentiment which was echoed by both Iwan and Ally, while Douglas tried to keep his composure, which was a struggle with what your voice was doing and how your body was moving to the almost syrupy bass line.

“Flat on my back she goes down,” your eyes flutter close at the bridge, practically making love to the song with your voice going low and seductive, “for backstage pass, she goes down. With all of my friends, she goes down. She gives heart attack, she goes,” you croon, your eyes opening as a grin spreads across your lips and you slam into the final chorus.

The idea that Motley Crue wrote so much about sex had never exactly registered for Douglas, it was just kind of the done thing back in the hair metal scene. It seems like a good majority of songs were either about sex or drugs or both, and but hearing the recording, he’d never been fully aware of the suggestive power of the songs until this moment. Maybe it’s the difference between knowing Nikki Sixx now in 2018, and hearing and seeing you in 2018 sing it live that makes all the difference.

Because he’s trying desperately to commit your entire performance of the song to memory.

“Nikki and Tommy would fucking love this,” Colson adds, to almost universal agreement as the next song began.

The night is joyful and exuberant, and much to Douglas’s surprise, you seem to be spending most of your time between sets with him and the other actors, though judging by the other’s reactions, he shouldn’t be so surprised.

“She’s into you,” Ally told him bluntly, the two of them together at the bar while the others were outside in the cool night air. She spoke to him as if speaking to an idiot, which he resented, “why are you surprised she wants to spend time with you?”

“I’m just...” and he sighed deeply, “I’m just worried that me or one of the guys is going to slip up somehow, and she’ll only want to be around me because of the movie.”

“I don’t think she’s like that,” Ally said softly, patting him on the shoulder.

“And I don’t know her well enough to be able to agree,” Douglas admitted; for all that he liked you, he still wasn’t quite able to discern how you’d react to him playing Nikki Sixx in the band’s upcoming biopic. He didn’t even want to bring up the film for fear of you connecting the dots.

“Then get to know her,” she suggests, as if it’s that easy.

Somehow, having confirmation from Ally that you were into him was easier to believe than from the guys.

After you’ve played your final song for the night and said your goodbyes to the crowd, as the crowd’s chatter grows louder, though some are already moving on to a new venue. You coil leads and haul amps around with the speed and efficiency of someone twice your age, so focused that it’s almost mesmerizing.

The rest of the cast is making plans to move on, but as you’re taking the last of your things out to the station wagon outside, he knows the only way he’ll be able to see you again without being chaperoned by one of his nosy friends is by asking you out.

You’re out by the car, guitar case in one hand, holding the passenger door open with the other, talking about something with the drummer who was waiting in the driver’s seat. Then you spot him through the glass of the pub doors, watching with hesitation, and you smile at him warmly. You stow your guitar case in the back seat of the car, amid milk crates of leads and microphone stands, and make your way to the door.

As Douglas steps outside, he hears the drummer call ‘I’m leaving in five, with or without you’ but you ignore him.

“Great show, as always,” Douglas smiles, letting the door close behind himself, giving the two of you a modicum of privacy.

“But you’ve only seen us perform twice,” you say with slight hesitation.

“And you’ve been consistently good,” he points out, and you’re grinning again, all bashful and pleased, contrasting your fuck off attire, “can I ask when you’re free this week?”

“You certainly can,” you rock back on your heels, eyes shining, “it’s what I came over here to ask you, actually.”

“My uh, my day job’s kind of weirdly scheduled, so it’d probably be easier for me to work around you,” he admitted, and your eyebrow rose, intrigued.

“Day job?”

“It’s complicated,” and thankfully you didn’t pry.

“Well, my band rehearses Tuesday and Thursday, but I’m free during the week after five thirty; do you wanna grab dinner some time?” You asked, hopeful. Douglas’s lips curved into a smile and he nodded.

“I’ll check my schedule tonight and talk to you tomorrow, how about that?”

“Sounds like a date!” You enthuse, and make a step towards the car, but Douglas can’t help himself.

“I enjoyed She Goes Down, by the way,” he says, and when you turn around your smile is sharp as knives as mischief twinkles in your eyes.

“Oh, I’m sure you did, and I’m sure you will,” you wink at him, “we’ll see how the date goes.”

He watches you leave, his whole face amusingly red as he tries not to dwell on your implications, and he realises that you may very well be the death of him. Not that he’s complaining.

#Douglas Booth #douglas booth imagine #douglas booth x reader #mgk #colson baker #machine gun kelly #iwan rheon #daniel webber #the dirt #the dirt cast #the dirt cast imagine #the angry lizard writes

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kayliemusing · 3 years

Text

42: top 3s

1: Top 3 ice cream flavors - classic vanilla, birthday cake/birthday batter, bubblegum

2: Top 3 Disney Movies - Mulan, Onward, Soul (but this changes frequently lol)

3: Top 3 vacation destinations - I've never been outside of my home country so I'll say my top 3 DREAM destinations: NYC, Hawaii, a random countryside in either France or the UK

4: Top 3 places to shop - Dynamite, Sephora, Winners/Homesense

5: Top 3 subjects of study/classes to take - English/anything creative writing related, Interior Decorating/Design, Communications?

6: Top 3 make up products - YSL Touche Eclat Foundation, literally any Mac Lipstick but it has to be matte, & Fenty Beauty contour stick

7: Top 3 music artists - Taylor Swift - Of Monsters and Men - The Lumineers

8: Top 3 spices/herbs - Cinnamon - Nutmeg (literally tastes like autumn) - Paprika

9: Top 3 drinks - Diet Coke - Hot Chocolate - Vanilla Bean Frappe

10: Top 3 apps to use - Instagram - Pinterest -iBooks

11: Top 3 months of the year - May, October, December

12: Top 3 clothing items - My black/white turtle neck, high waisted jeans, plaid blazer

13: Top 3 binge perfect tv shows - Bones, Supernatural, Brooklyn Nine Nine

14: Top 3 romantic dates - (I've never been on a date but if I had, it would be this) Evening walk, late night drive, late night coffee date (tbh anything at night feels romantic)

15: Top 3 kinds of flower - Water lilies, cherry blossoms, roses

16: Top 3 christmas movies - A Christmas Carol (2009), Home Alone, The Polar Express

17: Top 3 OTPs - Nesta and Cassian from ACOTAR series by SJM, Manon and Dorian from Throne of Glass series by SJM, Casteel and Poppy from From Blood and Ash series by JLM.

18: Top 3 quotes to describe your life - "I write not to find, but to leave" by Scherezade Siobhan - "I want to be myself again. I want to be six. I want to stop knowing everything I know" by Catherynne M. Valente - "The truth is, I pretend to be a cynic, but I am really a dreamer who is terrified of wanting something she may never get" by Joanna Hoffman.

19: Top 3 characteristics you love about yourself - my kindness bc it's not surface level kindness, but actually something deeply rooted within me - my resilience even tho sometimes it doesn't feel like resilience - my loyalty bc it is a hard as steel kind of loyalty

20: Top 3 kinds of candy - Maltesers, Kit kats, smarties

21: Top 3 ways to exercise/ be active - Walking, dancing, mowing the lawn/shoveling the sidewalk

22: Top 3 spirit animals - wolf, hummingbird, tiger (i googled it bc i didn't know and i was scared it was a joke but)

23: Top 3 petnames - I like 'lovebug', 'love', 'sweetheart'

24: Top 3 books read outside of school - The Hating Game by Sally Thorne, A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J Maas but viewers discretion is advised, Crush by Richard Siken

25: Top 3 most used websites - Youtube, Tumblr, Pinterest

26: Top 3 people you last texted - my mom, my bestie megan, and my sister bc they're the only people i text...

27: Top 3 hashtags you use - the only time i use hashtags is if i'm trying to promote some of my writing so I'll usually use writingcommunity, writersonig, poetryonig lol

28: Top 3 instagram accounts you follow - Trista Mateer, Griefmother, obviously taylor swift

29: Top 3 guilty pleasures - buzzfeed quizzes, early 2000s music, romance novels

30: Top 3 summer activities - Going to the zoo, long evening walks, campfires and s'mores

31: Top 3 things to draw/doodle - hearts, flowers, random swirls bc it's the only thing i can doodle...

32: Top 3 aesthetics - cityscape aesthetic, autumn aesthetic, rustic aesthetic

33: Top 3 things you'd buy if you gained three million dollars - a new car, a condo, another cat

34: Top 3 ways to treat yourself - facial, a large bag of maltesers, buying the makeup i really want but have been putting off

35: Top 3 celebrity crushes - Evan Peters, Matthew Daddario, henry cavill

36: Top 3 books from your childhood - Love You Forever by Robert Munsch, The Big Friendly Giant by Roald Dahl, and Madeline by Ludwig Bemelmens

37: Top 3 accents to hear - Australian, super poshy british accent, new zealand accent

38: Top 3 scents - Fresh rain, vanilla, sweet cinnamon pumpkin from bath and body works

39: Top 3 "Friends" quotes - "WE WERE ON A BREAK" -Ross, "Guess things were just going too well for me" -also ross, and "it's so exhausting waiting for death" - phoebe

40: Top 3 cupcake flavors - tbh I haven't tried that many cupcakes so your typical vanilla, chocolate, and Pink Lady Cupcake from Babycakes Cupcakery

41: Top 3 fruits - Pomegranates, Strawberries, Raspberries

42: Top 3 places you've had amazing pizza from - Pizzahut, Dominos, Pizza73

43: Top 3 sports teams to watch - i don't

44: Top 3 crayola colors - uh, i guess red, purple, and pink??

45: Top 3 things you hope to accomplish in college - Certificates/Degrees in Copyediting and Creative Writing, and I think simply just deeper critical thinking skills when it comes to writing and books

46: Top 3 fanfictions you've read - I read more books than fanfics, I've read a couple on tumblr but don't remember the names sorry :/

47: Top 3 people you miss right now - my dad, my best friend bc she's in vancouver, taylor swift bc she's not on tumblr anymore rip

48: Top 3 fears - Failure, Loss, not achieving anything in life/not reaching my full potential

49: Top 3 favorite literary devices - Foreshadowing is always god tier, cliffhangers although evil i love those too, symbolism

50: Top 3 pet peeves - People dragging their shoes on the floor when they walk, when you tell someone your fav hobby/music artist/interest and they immediately go 'oh I hate X!', and people who go 'you're so quiet!!!' but in a way that draws in more attention and/or makes me feel more uncomfortable like i would literally rather die

51: Top 3 physical things you find attractive - Hands, nice hair, defined jawlines

52: Top 3 bad habits - Nailbiting, picking at my blemishes oops, lip biting

53: Top 3 pets you've had/wish to have - Cats bc they complete me, I've always wanted a Samoyed, and I've always wanted a turtle

54: Top 3 types of foreign food - Chicken Chow Mein, deep fried shrimp, japanese chicken wings

55: Top 3 things you want to say to someone in your lifetime - 'I quit', 'I love you', 'you changed my life'

56: Top 3 dog breeds - Samoyed, german shepherds, collies

57: Top 3 cheesy romance movies - You've Got Mail, How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days, 10 Things I Hate About You

58: Top 3 languages you speak/wish to speak - French, Sign, and maybe Japanese?

59: Top 3 series (book, movie, television) - The Cruel Prince series by Holly Black, A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J Maas (but literally only for Cassian and Nesta), From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L Armentrout

60: Top 3 pizza toppings - Mushrooms, alfredo sauce, pineapple

61: Top 3 youtubers you're subscribed to - Game Grumps, Charlotte Dobre, Megan Batoon

62: Top 3 tattoo / piercing ideas - I want to get a tattoo on my wrist of the last thing my dad ever wrote me, a hummingbird tattoo right next to it, and then a cross on my index finger

63: Top 3 awards you want to win - National Book Awards, Nobel Prize, and maybe even Goodreads Choice Awards lol

64: Top 3 emojis - Laugh/Crying emoji, the please sir emoji that kinda gives off those puss n boots eyes, and the stars emoji

65: Top 3 cars you dream of owning - 1970s Chev Impala, tbh a cute little Hyundai Venue, and maaaaybe the 1964 ferarri 250 gt luso (idk if that name was totally right but i had to do tons of googling to find it. i don't know a lot about cars and i don't really have a top 3 lol)

66: Top 3 authors - Right now I'm really into Sarah J Maas, Sally Thorne, and Holly Black maybe?

67: Top 3 historical figures - Jesus, Anne Frank, Vincent Van Gogh

68: Top 3 baby names - Ryder, Leila, Gracie

69: Top 3 DIYs - Candles, refurnishing old furniture (i.e. my mom and i painted our wooden garbage can), and really just any type of autumn diy

70: Top 3 smoothie combos/flavors - Strawberry/Banana, Mango, Strawberry-Mango

71: Top 3 songs of this month - Happier Than Ever by Billie Eilish, Biblical by Calum Scott, and Visiting Hours by Ed Sheeran

72: Top 3 questions of this post you want to be asked - I did them all bc I made it a survey instead of an ask meme ;)

73: Top 3 villains - Regina/The Evil Queen from Once Upon a Time, Cruella De Vil, and Moriarty from Sherlock

74: Top 3 Cities you want to see - Montreal, NYC, Vancouver (honorable mention: LA)

75: Top 3 recipes you want to try - different kind of salad and/or burger bowls, Stuffed bell peppers, and homemade lemon loaf

76: Top 3 dream jobs - Bestselling author, the person who runs a companies social media accounts, youtuber/blogger

77: Top 3 lucky items - tbh don't have one

78: Top 3 traditions you have - Christmas Eve Service and if I don't go to that at least incorporating reading the christmas story on christmas day or eve, idk if this counts as tradition but going to the corn maze every fall, and whenever it's easter/christmas/thanksgiving we always have a big meal w/ family

79: Top 3 things you miss about being a kid - reckless abandon, dreaming about growing up with hopefulness and no dashed hopes, experiencing holidays like halloween and christmas as a kid

80: Top 3 harry potter characters - I've never read or watched Harry Potter rip (ok well i saw the first and second (and maybe third?) movie in the sixth grade I think) but I think I really liked Hermoine, Harry obviously and Dobby

81: Top 3 lies you were told - i don't have 3, but this one has a story but basically when my sister and i were in elementary school my sister got hit by a car and so the insurance thing was that she would recieve 10k when she was 18 and as a child i thought that was unfair so my dad told me that my sister had to split it with me when we were 18 lmao obviously that didn't happen (i think i realized that wasn't true in middle school)

82: Top 3 pictures in your camera roll right now - Pictures of my cat, one of my sister in a hilarious filter, and a picture of my rocking my TS merch

83: Top 3 turn ons - Kindness, defined jawline, easy going

84: Top 3 turn offs - arrogance, unkempt, super loud and obnoxious

85: Top 3 magazines/news papers/ journals to read - I don't read much of those so I'll tell you some sites I love for writing purpose's: there's Wellstoried, justwriterlythings, springhole.net (which is filled with generators if you're stuck and also tons of infomation and advice)

86: Top 3 things you wish you had known earlier - that toad in Mario Party was wearing a mushroom hat and that it is actually not his head, that immaculate means 'clean' before i misused that word like several times over the years, and that the one turn i always take on my way to work where i thought everyone didn't know how to drive was actually bc i didn't have the right of way rip me

87: Top 3 spongebob episodes - the one episode where spongebob and patrick find a ghost ship, that one episode where they form a bikini bottom band and perform it at a football game in a little fish tank, and the one episode where squidward has his first snowball fight

88: Top 3 places to be in the world - I'd love to be in NYC, Montreal, or Hawaii

89: Top 3 things you'd do differently - I would not have applied for RDC, similarly I should have just paid the 500 dollars to the one certificate program I wanted to do instead of overthinking it, and I wish I wouldn't have ended a friendship the way I did

90: Top 3 TV shows from your childhood - Spongebob Squarepants, That's So Raven, and Hannah Montana

91: Top 3 meals you love - Turkey Burgers, Chilli, and Instant Pot Chicken Tortilla Soup

92: Top 3 kinds of tea - i don't drink tea

93: Top 3 embarrassing moments - one time in sixth grade I tripped and fell right on my face in front of my crush, this other time like a couple years ago i opened the door to my car and only realized much too late while i was staring at this random family that it was not my car, and when i went to the gas station to get gas and couldn't get my gas lid on my car opened and this guy had to help me which was already embarrassing enough but then the gas pump wouldn't work so i had to go inside to pay just to realize i forgot my wallet and had to shamefully walk back to my car and then run back inside the convenience store and then pay and then walk back to my car and finally fill my tank.

94: Top 3 holidays to celebrate - Christmas, Halloween, Thanksgiving

95: Top 3 things to do in the rain - have an existential crisis, pretend you're in a music video, walk through puddles like you're six again

96: Top 3 things to do in the snow - Sledding, Build a snowman, shovel it even tho you don't want to

97: Top 3 items you can't leave the house w/o - phone, keys, wallet

98: Top 3 movies you'd like to see - Jurassic World 3, Hotel Transylvania: Transformania bc i'm a child, and the animation of the addams family

99: Top 3 art mediums - Writing fiction/poetry, painting, music

100: Top 3 museums you've been to - Royal Tyrell Museum, Canadian History one in edmonton lol, and heritage park in calgary

101: Top 3 school memories - Middle school dances when the popular kids would grind to the song "Low" which was always an interesting experience, in the twelfth grade at winter formal when we all shouted "SHUT UP AND DANCE!" at the same time when they played Shut Up and Dance, and the day i left

102: Top 3 things you don't/Won't miss - School, my sisters ex, 2016 bc she was a rough year yikes

103: Top 3 pick up lines - "My name is Will. God's Will.", "I'd like to take you to the movies but they don't like you bring your own snacks", "are you from tennessee bc you're the only 10 i see"

104: Top 3 sports to watch - none of them

105: Top 3 taylor swift songs - all too well - exile - coney island

#survey

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bangwoolofbangtan · 3 years

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TIME

ENTERTAINER of the year

BTS

[Time magazine BTS interview ]

It’s late October, and Suga is sitting on a couch strumming a guitar. His feet are bare, his long hair falling over his eyes. He noodles around, testing out chords and muttering softly to himself, silver hoop earrings glinting in the light. “I just started learning a few months ago,” he says. It’s an intimate moment, the kind you’d spend with a new crush in a college dorm room while they confess rock-star ambitions. But Suga is one-seventh of the Korean pop band BTS, which means I’m just one of millions of fans watching, savoring the moment.

BTS isn’t just the biggest K-pop act on the charts. They’ve become the biggest band in the world—full stop. Between releasing multiple albums, breaking every type of record and appearing in these extemporaneous livestreams in 2020, BTS ascended to the zenith of pop stardom. And they did it in a year defined by setbacks, one in which the world hit pause and everyone struggled to maintain their connections. Other celebrities tried to leverage this year’s challenges; most failed. (Remember that star-studded “Imagine” video?) But BTS’s bonds to their international fan base, called ARMY, deepened amid the pandemic, a global racial reckoning and worldwide shutdowns. “There are times when I’m still taken aback by all the unimaginable things that are happening,” Suga tells TIME later. “But I ask myself, Who’s going to do this, if not us?”

Today, K-pop is a multibillion-dollar business, but for decades the gatekeepers of the music world—the Western radio moguls, media outlets and number-crunchers—treated it as a novelty. BTS hits the expected high notes of traditional K-pop: sharp outfits, crisp choreography and dazzling videos. But they’ve matched that superstar shine with a surprising level of honesty about the hard work that goes into it. BTS meets the demands of Top 40’s authenticity era without sacrificing any of the gloss that’s made K-pop a cultural force. It doesn’t hurt that their songs are irresistible: polished confections that are dense with hooks and sit comfortably on any mainstream playlist.

BTS is not the first Korean act to establish a secure foothold in the West, yet their outsize success today is indicative of a sea change in the inner workings of fandom and how music is consumed. From propelling their label to a $7.5 billion IPO valuation to inspiring fans to match their $1 million donation to Black Lives Matter, BTS is a case study in music-industry dominance through human connection. Once Suga masters the guitar, there won’t be much left for them to conquer.

In an alternate universe where COVID-19 didn’t exist, BTS’s 2020 would likely have looked much like the years that came before. The group got its start in 2010, after K-pop mastermind and Big Hit Entertainment founder Bang Si-hyuk recruited RM, 26, from Seoul’s underground rap scene. He was soon joined by Jin, 28; Suga, 27; J-Hope, 26; Jimin, 25; V, 24; and Jung Kook, 23, selected for their dancing, rapping and singing talents.

But unlike their peers, BTS had an antiestablishment streak, both in their activism and in the way they contributed to their songwriting and production—which was then rare in K-pop, although that’s started to change. In BTS’s debut 2013 single, “No More Dream,” they critiqued Korean social pressures, like the high expectations placed on schoolkids. They have been open about their own challenges with mental health and spoken publicly about their support for LGBTQ+ rights. (Same-sex marriage is still not legally recognized in South Korea.) And they’ve modeled a form of gentler, more neutral masculinity, whether dyeing their hair pastel shades or draping their arms lovingly over one another. All this has made them unique not just in K-pop but also in the global pop marketplace.

In March, BTS was prepping for a global tour. Instead, they stayed in Seoul to wait out the pandemic. For the group, life didn’t feel too different: “We always spend 30 days a month together, 10 hours a day,” Jin says. But with their plans upended, they had to pivot. In August, BTS dropped an English-language single, “Dynamite,” that topped the charts in the U.S.—a first for an all-Korean act. With their latest album this year, Be, they’ve become the first band in history to debut a song and album at No. 1 on Billboard’s charts in the same week. “We never expected that we would release another album,” says RM. “Life is a trade-off.”

Their triumphs this year weren’t just about the music. In October, they put on perhaps the biggest virtual ticketed show of all time, selling nearly a million tickets to the two-night event. Their management company went public in Korea, turning Bang into a billionaire and each of the members into millionaires, a rarity in an industry where the spoils often go to the distributors, not the creators. And they were finally rewarded with a Grammy nomination. On YouTube, where their Big Hit Labels is one of the top 10 most subscribed music accounts (with over 13 billion views by this year), their only real competition is themselves, says YouTube’s music-trends manager Kevin Meenan. The “Dynamite” video racked up 101 million views in under 24 hours, a first for the platform. “They’ve beaten all their own records,” he says.

Not that the glory comes without drawbacks: namely, lack of free time. It’s nearing midnight in Seoul in late November, and BTS, sans Suga, who’s recovering from shoulder surgery, are fitting in another interview—this time, just with me. V, Jimin and J-Hope spontaneously burst into song as they discuss Jin’s upcoming birthday. “Love, love, love,” they harmonize, making good use of the Beatles’ chorus, turning to their bandmate and crossing their fingers in the Korean version of the heart symbol.

Comparisons to that epoch-defining group are inevitable. “What’s different is that we’re seven, and we also dance,” says V. “It’s kind of like a cliché when big boy bands are coming up: ‘Oh, there’s another Beatles!’” says RM. I’ve interviewed BTS five times, and in every interaction, they are polite to a fault. But by now they must be weary of revisiting these comparisons, just as they must be tired of explaining their success. RM says it’s a mix of luck, timing and mood. “I’m not 100% sure,” he says.

They’ve matured into smart celebrities: focused and cautious, they’re both more ready for the questions and more hesitant to make big statements. When you ask BTS about their landmark year, for once they’re not exactly chipper; J-Hope wryly calls it a “roller coaster.” “Sh-t happens,” says RM. “It was a year that we struggled a lot,” says Jimin. Usually a showman, on this point he seems more introspective than usual. “We might look like we’re doing well on the outside with the numbers, but we do go through a hard time ourselves,” he says. For a group whose purpose is truly defined by their fans, the lack of human interaction has been stifling. Still, they’ve made it a point to represent optimism. “I always wanted to become an artist that can provide comfort, relief and positive energy to people,” says J-Hope. “That intent harmonized with the sincerity of our group and led us to who we are today.”

In an era marked by so much anguish and cynicism, BTS has stayed true to their message of kindness, connection and self-acceptance. That’s the foundation of their relationship with their fans. South Korean philosopher and author Dr. Jiyoung Lee describes the passion of BTS’s fandom as a phenomenon called “horizontality,” a mutual exchange between artists and their fans. As opposed to top-down instruction from an icon to their followers, BTS has built a true community. “Us and our fans are a great influence on each other,” says J-Hope. “We learn through the process of making music and receiving feedback.” The BTS fandom isn’t just about ensuring the band’s primacy—it’s also about extending the band’s message of positivity into the world. “BTS and ARMY are a symbol of change in zeitgeist, not just of generational change,” says Lee.

And in June, BTS became a symbol of youth activism worldwide after they donated $1 million to the Black Lives Matter movement amid major protests in the U.S. (They have a long track record of supporting initiatives like UNICEF and school programs.) BTS says now it was simply in support of human rights. “That was not politics. It was related to racism,” Jin says. “We believe everyone deserves to be respected. That’s why we made that decision.”

That proved meaningful for fans like Yassin Adam, 20, an ARMY from Georgia who runs popular BTS social media accounts sharing news and updates, and who is Black. “It will bring more awareness to this issue people like me face in this country,” he says. “I see myself in them, or at least a version of myself.” In May and June, a broad coalition of K-pop fans made headlines for interfering with a police app and buying out tickets for a Trump campaign rally, depleting the in-person attendance. Later that summer, ARMY’s grassroots fundraising effort matched BTS’s $1 million donation to Black Lives Matter within 24 hours.

For 28-year-old Nicole Santero, who is Asian American, their success in the U.S. is also a triumph of representation: “I never really saw people like myself on such a mainstream stage,” Santero says. She’s writing her doctoral dissertation on the culture of BTS fandom, and she runs a popular Twitter account that analyzes and shares BTS data. “Anytime I’m awake, I’m doing something related to BTS,” she says. “This is a deeper kind of love.”

Devotion like that is a point of pride for BTS, particularly in a year when so much has felt uncertain. “We’re not sure if we’ve actually earned respect,” RM says. “But one thing for sure is that [people] feel like, O.K., this is not just some kind of a syndrome, a phenomenon.” He searches for the right words. “These little boys from Korea are doing this.” —With reporting by Aria Chen/Hong Kong; Mariah Espada/Washington; Sangsuk Sylvia Kang and Kat Moon/New York

FASHION CREDITS

RM: Jacket, shirt, pants and shoes HERMES; SUGA: Jacket, shirt and necklace CELINE. Pants GIVENCHY. Shoes LOUIS VUITTON; Jung Kook: Jacket, shirt, pants and shoes FENDI; J-Hope: Jacket, shirt, pants and shoes LOUIS VUITTON. Necklace HERMES; Jin: Suit, knit top and shoes BALENCIAGA; Jimin: Jacket, silk shirt, pants and shoes CELINE; V: Suit, shirt and shoes ALEXANDER McQUEEN. Tie THOM BROWNE.

#bts #kim taehyung #bts update #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim seokjin #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #min yoongi #bts time magazine #bts time 2020 #bts time #bts entertainer of the year #bts interview #bts time photoshoot #bts photoshoot #bts group photo #bts achievements #bts article

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kagemajaya · 4 years

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So much to watch, not enough time in the week - What does Fall 2020 look like?

A list of what looks interesting in the next season and silly reasons as to why

I’m not the sort of person who likes finding out too many (in some cases even a smidgen of) details about anime I’m going to watch, so this will be a spoiler free preview of the season. Here is a list of anime I will try and you can expect to hear about on Kagemajaya.

Click on the show names to be taken to their MAL pages for more detail.

Hype

Taisou Zamurai

A male cast gymnastics anime from MAPPA (the studio of Yuri!!! on Ice.) Enough said.

Watch the trailer here.

Chuan Shu Zijiu Zhinan

This one’s a bit of a cheat as we’ve already seen 2 episodes of it (3 for those who have VIP accounts on weTV.) However, I was indeed hype for it before it started. Based on a BL novel by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu, the author of Mo Dao Zu Shi, this one promises a lot to people who enjoy transmigration, cultivation and a bit of gay. It is also a quite funny isekai parody. The only downside is that it doesn’t share the same visual quality as MDZS, and is entirely 3D. It’s a good thing I’m not much of a stickler for hot visuals.

Watch it here on its official stream.

Tian Guan Ci Fu

Another donghua based on a BL novel, well-known among the danmei fans also by its English name of Heaven Official’s Blessing. Also written by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu (boy, are they busy.) And a big plus: it’s not 3D, so really looking forward to watching handsome men cultivate together in pseudo-historic China. Beautiful setting, beautiful boys. Now one can only hope for an interesting plot too and we are set.

Watch the trailer here.

Cautiously Expectant

Yuukoku no Moriarty

I saw manga adverts for this one all around Akihabara and Ikebukuro last year when I went on a little trip to Japan. The bishie Professor Moriarty was an immediate pull, and as a Holmes fan, I feel attracted to most of its adaptations, despite almost always being let down. The one thing that makes me cautious about this one is that it is published by a shounen magazine that is not GFantasy, so I’m not sure if the bishie designs and the male cast actually mean what I want it to mean. Fingers crossed.

Watch the trailer here.

Giving It a Shot

Inu to Neko Docchi mo Katteru to Mainichi Tanoshii

A cute looking comedy short about a dog and a cat.

Jujutsu Kaisen

A mostly male cast Shounen Jump affair. Spring 2020’s Kakushigoto also implied that it has a fujoshi fanbase - let’s see what that’s all about.

Maesetsu!

A female cast gag comedy sol created by Lucky Star’s Yoshimizu Kagami. I watched Lucky Star fairly recently and found it quite entertaining with many sweet/funny characters. I suppose we will see if Yoshimizu still has it. Fingers crossed.

Adachi to Shimamura

I try to watch all queer anime as they come, and this comes in from the shoujo ai quota. Looks like a pretty straightforward romance. Hopefully it will have heart.

Kaeru no Pickles: Kimochi no Iro

All I know about this one is that it has a chill looking poster and has a slice of life tag on MAL. I’m not entirely sure whether we’ll get this subbed, but if we do, I’ll give it a shot.

Kami-tachi ni Hirowareta Otoko

Fell for the slice of life tag once again. This one is an isekai with a soft looking MC. Not entirely sure it’ll be up my alley, but no harm in trying it, maybe for a pleasant surprise.

Sore dake ga Neck

This one seems to have the cool setting of a convenience store. I did initially think this was going to be a sol as well, but seems like that might not be the case. Either way, cool setting.

Hypnosis Mic: Division Rap Battle - Rhyme Anima

Another anime whose source project I saw plastered all around Tokyo. I’m not a huge fan of idol shows but the rapping bit makes me a bit curious.

Noblesse

A manhwa massively popular among female fans which has also received one off adaptations before, it’s finally getting its turn for a full cour among the hype the industry seems to have for Korean webtoons these days (Kami no Tou, God of High School, etc.) I did watch one of the OVA’s years ago, and wasn’t entirely impressed but then again I can’t judge a whole work based on one arc adapted into a single episode. Male cast action stuff. We shall see and judge.

Magatsu Wahrheit: Zuerst

This was chosen entirely on my shallow criteria as usual: visuals with two dudes on them. Now we’ll see whether the German name is a cringe factor or it’s actually interesting.

Sequels

Osomatsu-san 3rd Season

Osomatsu-san has been a consistently high quality production for me since the beginning. The humor is definitely my cup of tea, though as with any episodic gag comedy, some sketches do miss. It is more often than not a hit. The seiyuu cast is a huge huge pull, as this is not them only acting out an already written character but you can actually hear them having fun as the sextuplets. It is also one of the rarer shows where I, as a person who isn’t great at focusing on visuals, appreciate the impeccable quality of animation. So hype for another season of this majorly fun series and to welcome Matsuno’s back home - coziness, here I come.

Quanzhi Gaoshou 2

I watched the first season of Quanzhi Gaoshou (or King’s Avatar) because it was made by the studio of MDZS, and it was the first time I had seen a good looking Chinese animation production. And it didn’t disappoint. Production quality was similar and more importantly, it had a very engaging plot - pro MMORPG players playing MMORPG, their personal dramas and the actual (surprisingly fun for me) gameplay and action. Its most important quality is still its charming cast for me, a successful ensemble cast, where with the exception of the antagonists, everyone and their relationships are lovely. Mostly a male cast show, it does also have nice ladies. Looking forward to going back to them. My only personal issue (definitely not a flaw on the show’s part but my attention span) is that it has so many teams and characters that I forgot most of who was who. Fingers crossed it’ll be easy to get back into.

Haikyuu!!: To the Top 2nd Season

Haikyuu is back again, to finish off the “To the Top” arc. The first cour of this season was probably the season that took me out of the Haikyuu hypnosis state where I assumed everything that came out with the name attached to it was great. It was still enjoyable in its second half but I do feel like the magic has worn off now. I hope I’m wrong and the tournament hype will bring it back again. Haikyuu is at its best when it’s tense in-match and funny with character interactions, so fingers crossed for that.

Ani ni Tsukeru Kusuri wa Nai! 4

The Chinese comedy short is back! As mentioned a couple of paragraphs ago, gag comedies are always hit or miss with their sketches, and this one is also mostly a hit for me, though definitely not at the level of Osomatsu-san. The pull of this show is the cute boys and their dumbassery. Looking forward to its easy fun and more Kai Xin.

Also continuing...

Mo Dao Zu Shi Q, Great Pretender

Have been enjoying both these shows greatly so far. 2 more cours of MDZS Q to go with their cute chibi fun, and Great Pretender’s last case (9 eps) is already released on Japanese Netflix so now we wait for Laurent and the gang to reach us. Really looking forward to the emotional drama of Laurent and hopefully some proper addressal of his feelings for Edamame. Either way, it’ll look gorgeous and will be heaps of fun if the first three cases are anything to go by.

I might pick up other shows and most likely drop some of these throughout the season but here’s hoping it will be enjoyable overall despite the small number of shows I’ll start with. What are you guys planning to watch?

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wowthighs · 4 years

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your hands a river gesture | namjin

Kim Namjoon x Kim Seokjin | T, 3.1k, canon-compliant | It takes four cities for Namjoon to realize that the constants in his life could be summed up into a very short list. It would start with one name, at the very top.

***

Han

Despite everything, sitting by the Han river still gives Namjoon a sense of peace. A little less than before, to be sure, but something settles inside him when he sits down. It’s late at night—too late for many other people to be strolling along the bank, too late for anyone to be able to make out his face in the dark. He’d snuck out of the dorm earlier, baseball cap pulled low and a notebook in his bag. He knew that he wasn’t really sneaking out, that the managers would know anyway. It’s only now that he’s sitting, close enough to a streetlamp to give him ample light to write, that he can dwell on what that means: freedom, fame, and how he’d snuck out to be alone and now feels lonely.

He chews on his lip. Maybe there’s something there; earlier that day he’d tried to ground himself by thinking of the constants in life, forever things. He pulls out his notebook and scribbles down: Constants in my life

He fights back the urge to cross it out, because seeing it written out like that makes him sound so melodramatic. Instead, he adds a few more things to his list of constants:

The river

This loneliness

Namjoon closes his notebook, his pen marking his place. He looks out into the skyline of Seoul. He shakes his head as he thinks of what he’d written before, and how it still holds true.

His phone buzzes in his pocket.

Namjoon catches himself smiling as he slides his phone back in his pocket. He tucks his notebook back into his bags and takes a deep breath, savoring the sight before turning away and going back home. He makes a mental note to add a line to his list.

Chicago

Namjoon is exhausted. He flops down on the bed, too exhausted to change out of the clothes he’d worn for interviews. He props his legs up against the wall, drinking in the silence. His body still thrums with adrenaline, but his mind is tired—he’s stopped feeling the excitement of properly expressing himself in English hours ago.

He startles at the sound of the doorbell.

“Namjoon-ah, it’s me.”

Namjoon slides out of bed, stretching as he walks to open the door. “Hyung.”

Seokjin stands by the doorway and holds up his phone and two earbuds. “Wanna go for a walk?”

“What, now?”

“Yeah I—“ he scrunches up his face, looking annoyed for a moment. “I feel, you know.” He kicks out his legs, and inexplicably, Namjoon understands. Antsy, full of energy, but also not.

“Okay.” Namjoon walks back inside and grabs a hat. “Is anyone—”

“Sleeping or gaming.”

“Ah.”

“Mm.”

Namjoon bites back a laugh, and they walk in silence to the elevator. They’ve done this once or twice, walked around cities, but they were less recognizable, back then. Seokjin talks about the other members, about that one funny moment in that one interview—do you remember, Namjoon-ah? Namjoon nods, not really remembering and too tired to backtrack. Seokjin clicks his tongue at being brushed off. He settles his hand on Namjoon’s lower back, steering him right, left, down the dim streets of Chicago, occasionally checking his phone for directions.

Distantly, Namjoon can hear the rumble of an engine; he’s sure that if he turned around there’d be a black SUV trailing after them. But he doesn’t bother to check, instead focusing on the warmth of Seokjin’s hand on his back, imagining that this is what normal life could have been, and then realizing how much he’d have hated it, somehow.

Discontent, is the word. English, floating to the front of his consciousness. Seokjin jostles him. “There!” He says, his crooked finger pointed across the street.

Namjoon smiles. The yellow street lights bounce off the steps leading to the riverfront. There are a few groups sprinkled around, and Seokjin takes his hand as they cross the street, leading them to the spot he’d pointed at.

They settle down and Namjoon lets out a pleased sigh. He’d seen the river when they’d arrived, bisecting the city in a familiar yet wholly different way. He didn’t expect to see it up close, and he feels an easy peace spread through him. Beside him, Seokjin digs around his pockets, pulling out a bag of gummies. “Want one?”

Namjoon opens his mouth in response, and Seokjin grins and pops a grape flavored piece in his mouth. He sets it down on his lap. “It’s beautiful,” Namjoon says.

“As beautiful as me?” Seokjin laughs as he says it.

“Of course not,” Namjoon says easily, tilting his head to the side and taking in the rest of the view.

Seokjin makes a pleased sound beside him, then hands him an earbud. Namjoon slips it on, and watches Seokjin fiddle around his phone for a bit before a song plays.

It starts slow, piano keys tinkling, before sweeping up into something grand. Namjoon blinks at the sound of the man’s voice, surprised that he’d closed his eyes at all. He turns to Seokjin, who is smiling softly at him. For a brief, wild moment, Namjoon’s heart stops.

“An English song?” He asks, recovering quickly.

“It’s about Chicago,” Seokjin says, voice low against the swell of sound. “What’s he saying?”

Namjoon swallows, listens as the song slows for the bridge, followed by a stripped down version of the chorus. His mind feels alight marvelling at the sound production, the layers of it. He was tired of English, earlier, but translating for Seokjin now feels like a gift—it feels like it’s just the two of them, and the river, and this song. “All things go,” Namjoon says, as the song fades out. “All things know.”

Namjoon thinks of the list, which has grown then festered as they went on tour. This river. This loneliness. This need to be more, to be everything. Wanting nothing. Wanting it all.

Seokjin smiles at him, lip curling up on his side. “Want me to play it again?”

“Yes please,” Namjoon says. He shifts a little, doesn’t really do it on purpose but they’re closer together now, his forearm against Seokjin’s thigh. He imagines that it’s like they’re in a small bubble of pianos and trumpets and choirs. The river rushes forward, and Seokjin rests his head on Namjoon’s shoulder. His breath is warm against Namjoon’s chest when he says, “Tell me.”

Thames

The room is dark save for the lights of the city outside, lights reflecting off the Thames. Namjoon sighs, rubbing his socked feet against the carpet. After all this time, he’d hoped that he’d have gotten used to being away from home. But the longer they’re on tour, the worse it gets, as if he’s untethered.

It was a good show, a good way to start the European part of the tour. They’d all piled into Jungkook’s room after, staying close and drinking a little, just enough to help him fall asleep.

Now that he was alone, Namjoon wishes he’d stayed longer. He was the last to leave, fighting down the sudden wave of melancholy that had overcome him. Focusing on everyone else’s needs was second nature at this point, and it grounded him. Helped him focus on action, rather than thought.

But now it’s late, and it’s quiet, and there’s nothing left to do but think. There’s another word he’d learned in English, recently—yearning. They were on the plane over London, and he scribbled it down in the list. Namjoon’s about to reach into his bag and look over his notebook when his phone buzzes.

Namjoon huffs out a laugh and opens the door, smiling at Seokjin, his face flushed as he leans lazily against the frame.

“Beep beep,” he says, shouldering past Namjoon and flopping down on the bed. “You win a bottle of wine and Mr. Worldwide Handsome.”

“Hooray,” Namjoon says, deadpan, before shutting the door. It makes Seokjin laugh, which makes warmth spread across Namjoon’s chest.

He stops by the foot of the bed, surprised by the sensation.

Thankfully, Seokjin doesn’t notice. He digs around his pocket and cheers when he finds a corkscrew.

“Do you just carry that around, hyung?”

“Boy scout!” Seokjin shouts, posing. Namjoon laughs and grabs two glasses from the minibar.

They don’t talk much, which Namjoon appreciates. He knows that Seokjin knows—has long accepted that to him, Namjoon is an open book. But, Namjoon figures, it’s only because he does it on purpose; he likes to think that he allows Seokjin to care for him. Anything else feels like failure.

Seokjin bumps his shoulder against Namjoon’s. “I’m right here.”

“I know,” Namjoon says, flustered. He feels warm, and it’s not just the wine thrumming through his veins.

“You were,” Seokjin gestures with his hand loosely gripping his glass, the wine sloshing dangerously close to the lip. “Away.”

“No,” Namjoon says, knocking Seokjin’s knee with his—a desperate move to bring them back to their usual jostling. It doesn’t work. “I’m here,” he adds, trying to keep his voice even.

“Good. I don’t do this for everyone, you know,” he says the last part in English, with the accent and everything.

Namjoon laughs. “Shut up.”

Seokjin’s smile softens, then fades. He takes a sip of his wine. “Sometimes you just get…” he trails off, and takes another sip. “You just don’t need to take everything on on your own, is my point.”

Namjoon feels the air punched out of him. Seokjin’s always been too good at this, cutting to the heart of the problem without batting an eye. “I don’t,” he lies. “And you don’t need—“

“I want to,” Seokjin says, draining his glass. He looks at Namjoon, his gaze more intense than Namjoon has ever seen in their seven years together. Namjoon swallows. “I want to, okay? Don’t ever think that I’m acting out of obligation. I want to.”

Namjoon’s brain comes up with so many questions that he feels dizzy. Seokjin pours himself another drink and tops off Namjoon’s glass with the last of the wine.

Namjoon wants to ask: Why? Instead he takes a sip. He’s afraid to find out the answer.

After a while, Seokjin stands by the window, looking out into the city. Namjoon drinks in the sight, Seokjin’s broad shoulders, the shine of his hair in the moonlight, the river stretched out below him.

Seokjin turns to Namjoon, taking a sip from his glass, and Namjoon watches the way his throat works, tries to memorize the way the light catches against his skin, the shadow of his collarbone.

“You should get some sleep, Joon-ah,” he says, his voice sounding a bit rough from the drink.

“Only if you do,” Namjoon says automatically.

Seokjin smirks. It makes Namjoon feel hot all over. He can feel the air shift and crackle around them; something is shifting between them, has moved like a low rumble of thunder.

Outside, rain begins to patter against the window.

Namjoon licks his lips. “If you’re too tired, you can stay here,” he says, his voice coming out softer than he means it to, but only because he’s so afraid.

Namjoon nearly drops his glass when Seokjin saunters towards him. Then he has to make a conscious effort to relax his grip, afraid that he might shatter the crystal.

“Surprise mission,” Seokjin murmurs, stopping to stand in front of Namjoon.

Namjoon reaches out, takes Seokjin’s hand in his. The rain beats steadily against the window: tap, tap, tap. Namjoon shifts forward, half standing, when the doorbell rings.

Seokjin startles and wrenches his hand away, then immediately covers it up with a laugh.

“Good night, Namjoonie,” he says, bending down to press a kiss on Namjoon’s forehead before turning to leave.

Namjoon follows him out, breathless, and he doesn’t have the heart to be mad when he sees Jungkook standing outside.

“Yah!” Seokjin shouts. “Why are you up!”

Jungkook frowns. “Why weren’t you in your room?”

Seokjin laughs, wrapping an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders. “We were winding down,” he says, steering Jungkook away. “Come on, sleep beside hyung tonight.”

Namjoon watches as they walk towards Seokjin’s room before shutting the door.

Seine

Seokjin’s room is an explosion of fabric, and Namjoon finds him sitting and frowning amidst it all.

“Hyung,” Namjoon says, catching Seokjin’s attention. “Are we looking for something, or are we packing?”

Seokjin sighs. “I can’t find my hat.”

Namjoon crouches down and picks up a black baseball cap. He raises it and makes a small, inquisitive sound.

“No, not that.”

“What are you looking for a hat for, hyung?”

“I wanted to wear it.”

“Right,” Namjoon says, making his way around the room, picking up and looking under scattered bits of clothing as he goes. “For the flight?”

Seokjin’s on his hands and knees, throwing more clothes out of his luggage. “Yeah.”

“What are your plans, when you get home?” Namjoon asks, trying to sound casual. His heart’s in his throat, the way it always gets ever since that night in London. The past week has been excruciating, but somehow, Namjoon was able to use his anxious energy for something—now it’s just a question of whether he could take the last step towards fulfilling that plan.

“Sleep,” Seokjin says. “Maybe buy a new fucking hat.”

Namjoon laughs, and Seokjin follows suit.

“Jiminie’s staying, you know,” he says, eyes trained down on the floor, pretending to be looking for something he probably wouldn’t recognize if it was looking at him in the face.

There’s a metaphor there, maybe. Namjoon realizes this with a start. He feels his eye twitch.

“I know,” Seokjin says quietly. He seems to have given up and is half-heartedly folding his shirts.

“I…” Namjoon starts. He picks up a shirt and folds it. “I rented a small apartment, for a few days.”

“Oh?” Seokjin brightens. “That sounds nice. You deserve a bit of a break.”

Namjoon isn’t about to focus on what deserving means, he came here with a goal in mind, but it settles, somewhere near the pit of his stomach.

“It would be,” he takes a breath, steading himself. He picks up a pair of Seokjin’s sweatpants and folds them. “Nicer if you came with me.”

The room is silent, the air still, like the moment right before a heavy downpour. Namjoon presses down the non-existent creases in the fabric.

“Yeah?” Seokjin’s voice is just above a whisper—disbelief clear in his tone. “But—“

“We can rebook your ticket, and we can say you decided on a whim if anyone asks, but I don’t think they will and—“

“Okay, Namjoon-ah, okay. Yes.”

Namjoon finally finds it in himself to look up. “Really?”

“Yes,” Seokjin says, grinning.

Namjoon can’t help but grin back, then feels very foolish for breaking the moment by handing Seokjin his sweatpants. But it makes Seokjin laugh, so it’s a win, really.

So they spend two days more in the city, waking up late and eating croissants in the little cafe near the apartment. It overlooks the Seine.

Namjoon orders for them, and knows what Seokjin wants without having to be told. At night they walk along the river, their knuckles brushing against each others’.

On their last night before their flight home, Namjoon buys a bottle of wine, leads Seokjin to a small park. The sound of the water is calming, and the stars shine overhead. They pass the bottle between each other, talk about everything, and nothing, and Namjoon figures—the constants in his life could be summed up into a very short list. It would start with one name, at the very top.

“You’re doing it again,” Seokjin chides, flicking Namjoon’s forehead.

“Ow!” Namjoon reaches over to retaliate, but Seokjin avoids him easily, laughing as he does. They tussle for a little, and Namjoon suspects that they let it go farther than it needs to, just for the simple pleasure of being allowed to touch each other this way.

Namjoon lands on his back, the air pushed out of him in one fell swoop. “Hyung,” he whines. Seokjin rolls his eyes and clambers off, and Namjoon sits up, dusting himself off. Then he looks back up at Seokjin. “Also, for the record, I wasn’t.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes again. “You were.” He reaches over and picks up a bit of grass stuck in Namjoon’s hair. “You were being pensive.”

“I was thinking, not that you’d know what that was like,” Namjoon says archly.

“What were you thinking about?”

Namjoon clears his throat.

Seokjin arches an eyebrow.

Namjoon swallows, tries to buy himself some time by drinking, but Seokjin holds the bottle away.

“Namjoon-ah!”

“You!” Namjoon says, finally. “I was thinking about you,” he admits, again, but softer this time.

“Oh.” Even in the moonlight, Namjoon can see Seokjin flush. It feels like a small victory. Namjoon knows it would feel even better, to feel the warmth of Seokjin’s skin with his fingertips, but he feels like he’s used up all his bravery already.

Instead, he pats Seokjin’s knee, and Seokjin hands him the bottle of wine wordlessly.

Seokjin looks at the river, drumming his fingers on the picnic blanket. “What about me?” he whispers.

Namjoon drinks down the last of the wine. Seokjin’s still blushing, his eyes focused on the river. Seeing him this way—shy, tentative, is a revelation. Namjoon chews on his lip, then reaches over to stop Seokjin from fidgeting.

Seokjin stills.

Namjoon takes another breath, then laces their fingers together. Seokjin looks at their hands sharply, then snaps his head up to look at Namjoon.

“Joon,” he breathes out.

Across the river, a street performer begins to play the saxophone. Namjoon shifts closer, his knee bumping against Seokjin’s thigh.

“Seokjin,” he says, smiling a little as Seokjin’s eyebrows rise. He looks hopeful. He can hear the sound of the river, as strong as the blood thumping in his heart. He reaches over, finally cupping Seokjin’s jaw, thumbing at his cheek.

“Just kiss me, Namjoon,” Seokjin says, so Namjoon does. His lips are impossibly soft, and he tugs on Namjoon’s shirt, pulling them closer together so their chests are flush. Namjoon pushes Seokjin slowly to lie down, tilting his head a little, and this is what it’s always been like between them—slotting together so easily, without forethought or deliberation. Namjoon pulls away, breathless.

For all that Namjoon’s written about love, the way it looks, the way it sounds in the air, he finally gets it. Sees it firsthand in the way Seokjin is smiling at him, bathed in the moonlight of Paris.

#namjin #namjoon x jin #namjoon x seokjin #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #namjin fic #namjoon fic #seokjin fic #bts fic #bts fluff #bangtan fic

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lizacstuff · 3 years

Text

SCK/Edser asks

Anonymous said: Thank you for the translation and the gif set of the ‘how did I fall in love with you’ scene! That made a lot of difference, the first translation I saw confused me, and I thought Serkan was just being mean, but this one makes Serkan more curious than mean, and is actually romantic.

You’re welcome for the gif set (this one,) but I can’t take credit for the translation. I saw multiple conversations on twitter about that scene and how bad the English subs were, so I cribbed the more correct translation from there.

It makes all the difference in the world, doesn’t it? It also made the scene make sense, since it did not the first time I saw it, lmao. I think the original subs I saw had her saying “You have to remember for yourself” and him responding “I remember.” UM... YOU REMEMBER BUPKIS, WHAT ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT, SIR! Instead the, “You can’t be told everything, you have to discover for yourself.” “I’m discovering.” It makes much more sense and, as you said, is a lot more shippy and romantic, as he is basically admitting that he’s figuring out exactly how he came to fall in love with her the first time. I know the subs are always kind of off and beggars can’t be choosers, but that one really changed the meaning and tenor of the scene. Yikes.

(More asks under the cut)

Anonymous said: So based on the summary, the kiss is real! My money is on Serkan in an effort to downplay how it makes him feels says something pretty crappy to Eda. She rightfully gets pissed and then the scenes ends because they both get called to the police station for Ayfer & Aydan. Maybe Selin shows up at the police station leading to Eda witnessing what appears to be a sweet moment between them or Selin chews Serkan out for being with Eda that leads to him saying something negative about Eda. This all could create a new low for Eda which is my Ayfer & Melo are comforting her in a scene from the fragman. She somehow convinces herself to keep going with the game and buys strawberries to keep Serkan away. But of course he really enjoyed the kiss so inspite of his earlier comments he is all about getting closer to Eda now but tells himself it is just to expose her game. I mean who knows what will happen but it is fun to speculate sometimes. Fingers crossed for a well written episode that is full of Edser scenes.

This makes as much sense as anything else I’ve seen trying to put together the pieces of this episode. Let’s hope what ever crappy thing he says to Eda, isn’t TOO CRAPPY. I don’t know how many more times I can watch him unleash the asshole on her. And especially this time, because she was just sitting there, minding her own business (at his machination) not expecting him when he came up and kissed her.

Maybe once she realizes he doesn’t remember, and she starts to question him, his excuse is he wanted to see if he felt anything, and he’ll lie and say that he didn’t? That would be crappy, and a lie, but at least would probably be a lie because he’s freaking out and said in service of protecting himself, and not designed to insult her.

As my friend @echoapothecary pointed out to me, if, after kissing her, he’s going to spend all episode trying to get her to admit she’s not really engaged to Deniz and doesn’t love him, there has to be some sort of payoff for that. And that payoff can’t be Eda admitting her feelings so that leaves... him admitting to her how he’s feeling. If they don’t do something of that nature, then once again I don’t know what the point of this is.

I’ll cross my fingers for lots of Edser scenes. As long as we get lots of them I can probably deal with very little forward progress.

Anonymous said: I feel like the people over at production should be doing more positive promotion than they are, especially after last week. I'd be fine with them spoiling the climax of the episode (if one exists?) - Serkan telling Eda he's in love with her, Serkan confronting Selin, ANYTHING. Do it like ep 11 and just give the viewers something that indicates the plot is finally going somewhere. And I'm glad the spoilers have been wrong lately bc now they're saying this'll go to ep 26 and I can't lol

The promotion for this episode is by far the most lackluster I can remember. I don’t recall two fragman’s being so... tepid. I kinda feel like they know they’re not moving the story along fast enough and so they’re all like, “Oh, hey, we’ll throw in this gratuitous boxing scene and this out-of-nowhere tandem catwalk fashion scene and that will keep them happy!”

And, you know, that probably would have worked if they hadn’t gone with the Selin/Deniz fake engagement nonsense, but since they did, fans are not so easily distracted and a lot less patient.

As for that spoiler, every “spoiler” coming out right now sounds like speculation and nonsense. Some will turn out to be almost, sort of true just because a broken clock is right twice a day, but none of them are worth fretting over.

Anonymous said: Everyone keeps saying how turkish tv channels are cutthroat and shows get canceled without a lot of warning - why are they so comfortable writing so many filler episodes in a row? It does not compute in my head. Shouldn't every episode be taken seriously if the industry is like this? They don't even have the excuse of "there wasn't enough time in the episode" since there are over 2 hrs each time but Edser scenes are cut down in favor of trivial side plot scenes. I don't want to see Enpir again.

Great questions, I honestly have no idea why they would ever think an episode with only 20ish minutes of Edser was even worth the money to produce. And I’m positive a show with Engin/Piril would not be worth the cost of the hard drive to store the footage.

As far as the filler nature of the last ep, they may have an episode order that we know nothing about, or other reasons to think they need to make this storyline stretch and last. (which I would be fine with if they got rid of Selin and Deniz, they could slow play as all they want, and I would be sated with boxing and fashion show scenes.)

Anonymous said: what would you think if in episode 35, they revealed that this been eda's nightmare the whole time after she passed out while watching the news of his plane crash, she wakes up in the hospital back on her wedding night, serkan is fine, and the last 6 episodes never happened?

I’d be fully onboard. There is not one thing that has happened since 29 that I would lament the reversal of by this kind of twist.

#sckask #edser #sck 1x33 #sck speculation #asklizac

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howrry · 5 years

Text

hot yoga

a/n: this is one of my favorite things to write, idk why. i just love roommate slash best friend h, i guess. anyways, he walks in on you masturbating and basically loses his goddamn mind over the course of one (1) week. bon appetit!

warnings: smuttyyyyy ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

w/c: 3.9k

***

THURSDAY

Harry didn't really take Y/N to be the type to masturbate during the day.

Not that he necessarily thought of his roommate masturbating at all. It's just... so risky for his normally tame best friend. So imagine the shock on his face when he came home early from work to hear her softly moaning in her room.

Honestly, at first, he thought she had a guy over. Of course, that didn't really explain why he still nosed in anyways. The two of them were quite close, but not close enough to openly talk about their sex lives. Harry assumed it was because she didn't date much and, out of respect, decided to keep his mouth shut about his own goings-on.

So maybe, then, it was out of disbelief that she would actually be getting anythat he slowly trudged up the stairs to her room in their shared house. As he approached her door, her noises got clearer and he could even hear her gasping for air.

Christ, he thought to himself. Who could be that good? Her door was cracked open just a bit, enough for Harry to peer through the gap and see her in bed... minus anyone else.

She laid in bed in her underwear, and he could see she'd tossed her clothes onto the floor haphazardly. One hand dipped into her panties and he could clearly see that she had her fingers deep inside herself. The other was poking into her bra and pulling at her nipples for more stimulation. In between her continued soft noises, Harry could even hear how wet she was.

It was in this exact moment Harry realized what he was doing. Why was he peeping on his roommate and best friend? Why was it so hard to tear his eyes away? Why was his cock fattening in his pants? Why, pray tell, was he still watching?!

He stumbled back a bit, trying to stay quiet, but the floorboard creaked. The door wasn't wide enough for her to see anything outside, but he figured his cover was blown since she suddenly silenced.

Nevertheless, he creeped back downstairs soundlessly, made himself a cup of tea, and decided to take the best route he could think of—pretend he didn't see any of that. Easy.

He hoped.

About twenty minutes later, when his dick was behaving again and he’d cleaned out his tea mug, Y/N hopped downstairs wearing the clothes he'd just seen thrown on the floor.

She acted mildly surprised to see him, making a note of his early arrival home. "We finished up our work for the day and the manager gave us the rest of the day off. Figured I'd come home and have a cuppa," he explained, not looking at her but rather lying on the couch and flipping through channels.

She nodded, hands on her hips and arms pointed back like a chicken. "Good idea. Think I'll go make one m'self," Y/N decided, awkwardly stumbling to the kitchen.

This time, Harry peeked a glimpse at her. He saw that her cheeks were a bit pink, and he was painfully reminded of what she was just doing. His filthy mind started to wander and he thought about if she was a full-body blusher. Did her chest brighten up a bit when--

Stop, he urged himself, rubbing his face with his whole hand. What was wrong with him?

Just pretend it didn’t happen, remember? He’ll be fine!

***

SATURDAY

Harry hated the summer.

The man was just not a heat-adapted person. He claimed it was because of his English roots that his body was naturally made for cold weather. Living out in LA made his career and social life much easier, yet the summer months were hell on his body.

He spent this toasty day on the couch with the A/C turned up high and a small fan in his hand while he read in the living room. Y/N read with him, neither of them saying a word to each other. They'd managed to talk a little since, ahem, the incident, but the conversations weren't very lengthy.

Suddenly, Y/N stood up and placed her Sherlock Holmes novel on the arm of her chair, bending the book's spine. She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a green Otterpop. Without saying anything, Y/N picked her book back up and continued reading, enjoying the popsicle.

Harry didn't show it but he’d completely lost interest in his own book; his focus was on her now. She hollowed her cheeks around the treat, audibly sucking out the melting juice. Her lips were so pretty perched around the ice, colored pink by the temperature. He would've thought she was doing it on purpose had she not been so entranced by her reading material; it was like he wasn't even in the room at all. If he kept staring at her, he’d have a full blown hard-on any minute now.

"Can yeh stop?" he blurted, making her head snap up confusedly. He backtracked immediately, realizing he had no reason to say that. It was his fault for being a perv, she was just eating a damn popsicle! "I, uh, I want one and I'm jealous. Do we have any left?"

She nodded with innocent wide eyes, the popsicle still dangling out of her mouth held up only by her teeth. It was a stupid save and she probably saw right through it, but he was glad for the free exit and went to get his own, though he didn’t stop by the living room on his way upstairs.

***

MONDAY

The beginning of the next week had weather that was muchmore bearable, and it'd appeared the heat wave had broken. Harry had no time to appreciate it though, as he had a long and productive day at the studio to end his not-so-relaxing weekend. By the time he got home, the house was empty. He didn’t question this; Y/N tended to be the spontaneous type and could be out with one of her friends.

He busied himself with cooking a small bachelor dinner. After he’d finished his meal and the post-eating doze was just about to lull him to sleep in the living room, the sound of keys in the front door’s lock jerked him awake.

Harry sat up straighter on the couch, waiting until his roommate was safely inside. “Hey, H!” she called. She was only wearing a black sports bra and a pair of peach leggings. Over the course of living with her, Harry had noticed that Y/N’s body tended to soak up sun in these warmer months, evident by her glowy skin covered in a sheen of sweat.

“Where have yeh been?” he questioned, not bothering with a greeting. He knew his eyes were begging to dart all over her smooth, gleaming body, but he tried his damn best to be subtle.

She snickered, tossing her bag on the love seat across from him. “Good evening to you, too. Valerie and I went to hot yoga.” Y/N dug through her duffel to get her marbled Hydroflask out.

“Hot yoga? What’s tha’?” he muttered, raising an eyebrow and resting his chin on the palm of his hand.

“It’s just regular yoga but it’s in a room at 100-something degrees and 40% humidity,” she explained, opening her water bottle and taking a swig. Big droplets leaked out of the sides of her mouth and trailed down her jaw and neck to join the sweat on her skin.

He rolled his eyes, pinching his bottom lip. He was trying not to bite it and figured he’d attempt to be more inconspicuous. “I don’t speak American, how hot is that?”

“It’s hot. And humid,” she huffed. “But it relaxes your muscles so much and makes all your joints pop. It felt so good.” Her eyes fluttered shut and she stretched an arm across her torso, pressing her boobs together. Harry’s mouth popped open and immediately shut. “Actually, there’s one move I want to show you. How’s your back feeling?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Well…” he rubbed the back of his neck, “Laying down on this couch isn’t the most comfortable, t’be honest.”

“Great!” Y/N grabbed H’s hand and guided him down to the floor. She hovered behind him as he sat with his legs extended. “Lift this knee,” she ordered, lightly tapping his right thigh.

He obeyed, extremely glad that his pants were thick black sweats. Her chest was brushing against his shoulders as she showed him what to do, and everywhere she touched him felt like it was on fire. He could only think about dead puppies to calm himself for so long.

“Cross it over the other knee, like you’re in a chair.” It was phrased like she was telling him what to do, but she still grabbed at him to move him into the desired position. She might have been a bit rough on him, though, and nearly crushed his family jewels between his legs.

“Whoa, easy, love,” he groaned, stopping her from man-handling him any further. “Some of us are a bit more delicate down there.” Y/N giggled, and Harry carefully crossed his leg over while remaining painfully conscious of her presence behind him.

“Now take your left elbow and put it on your lifted knee to twist as far as you can. Your back will sound like someone shuffling a deck of cards.” She put two hands on his shoulders to help him with the motion, and she was right. The stretch sent relief flooding through Harry’s body and the noises he made were borderline pornographic. “Feels good, hmm?” she purred into his ear.

He nodded, reveling in the feeling of her breath ghosting over his skin. “Try the other side,” she suggested, standing up and drinking more water.

“You should try going to hot yoga sometime,” she offered as he fully stretched out his spine, grabbing her bag and heading upstairs. “I’m gonna shower real quick. Do me a favor and pour me a rum and Coke?” she called behind her, not bothering to see if he agreed or not.

And Harry would be damned if he didn’t check out her ass in the leggings before getting up to make her a drink.

***

TUESDAY

Some nights are, in general, rougher than others in H's life, and this was one of those nights.

It wasn’t that the day was a complete disaster, it’s just that the studio had kept him much later than he'd anticipated. He was a very tenacious guy, but two long days in a row was just a bit much on his end. As he drove home, all he could think about was pouring himself a glass of MacMurray pinot and having an unwise later-evening nap. He sloppily dug his key into the lock and kicked his shoes off the second he was inside.

As he wandered through the halls of his house, he yanked out his headphones to reveal his roommate's voice coming from the kitchen. Given that it wasn't accompanied by another voice, he assumed she was on the phone.

Sure enough, he poked his head into the kitchen to see Y/N with her phone cradled between her shoulder and her cheek. She was making dinner while talking and didn't appear to notice Harry had arrived. He should’ve made his presence known given how this situation usually ended up, but he remained silent.

"You're lucky you have so many hoes, Val," Y/N noted, checking on boiling noodles and stirring them with a purple spoon. "If I'm trying to get fucked, I don't exactly have a lot of options."

At her words, he ducked out of the kitchen and hid in the hallway. Harry could chastise himself for being nosy later—he had to hear this conversation. There was some silence as Val responded before Y/N continued.

"I mean, dating for-real at this age sucks, and one night stands aren't what they used to be. All the attractive guys are cuffed up so now the only people prowling the bar scene are ugly or shit in bed." The two of them laughed. "And there's only so much my own hand can do," they giggled again before dissolving into a conversation about Val's new dog (how fast they were able to switch topics is beyond his grasp).

Harry took this as a chance to go back upstairs and pretend he never even heard that. Jeez—how many times will he have to remind himself that was the plan? How many times was this going to happen before it stuck? What was with him and barging in on Y/N during intimate moments and conversations?!

***

Harry woke up in the middle of the night with lips pressed against his neck.

At first, he couldn’t tell exactly whose lips were on him, but could tell it was some attractive female and decided to let it continue. He loved when girls spent a lot of time on his neck but didn’t give him love bites. He was so sensitive on his throat and chest that any kissing or sucking would leave him like putty in anyone’s hands. Harry decided to not question this and enjoy the lovely treatment.

The mystery girl did all the things he loved—she brought a hand up to rake through his sweaty curls, the other forced two fingers into his mouth to get them wet, and her kisses left wet patches all over his taut skin. The fingers between his lips dropped down, presumably to touch herself.

Finally, Harry needed to see who was doing all this to him. He lightly tugged the girl off by her hair, only to make eye contact with none other than his roommate Y/N.

“Y/N?!” he blurted. He was in utter shock—not only was he hard as a rock, but one of his closest friends is bare naked in front of him and trying to make out with his neck.

“Don’t think about it, love,” she purred, mocking his accent. Y/N tossed a leg over his body and grinded down onto his cock, kept separate by his boxers and the sheets on his bed. He could practically feel the heat coming off of her, if only it wasn’t for the barriers between them. In fact, the sheets seemed so tight around his legs.

Harry was suddenly washed over with anxiety and thrashed around, struggling to kick the sheets off his legs. Y/N stared at him like he was a maniac, which only made him panic more. Why wouldn’t the sheets come off his legs? Why wasn’t she helping him? Why was it suddenly so hot in there?

Harry woke up with his cock straining up against his stomach, forehead covered in sweat and bedsheets tangled around his feet just like in his dream. You know, the dream where he was about to have sex with Y/N.

He was grossed out when he thought about it, even though he had no control over his dreams. How could he be actually thinking about his totally platonic, totally innocent roommate like that? It almost felt dirtier dreaming about her than it did watching her touch herself. One of them was just a goofy accident and the other was rooted in some sub-conscious desire to bury himself in someone who probably trusted and respected him as a co-habitor.

God, did he need a therapist?

***

WEDNESDAY

“I’m thinking Chinese for lunch,” Y/N announced as Harry came into the living room.

He groaned. “The last time we had that, they messed up every part of our order. Can’t I have some time to heal?”

She lazily flipped through the last pages of the magazine in her hands. “It’s been six weeks, Harry. You have to give them another chance sometime.”

“You’re not the one who got duck in their order last time!” He indignantly crossed his arms. “Let’s just order in pizza.”

“Fine,” she sighed. Y/N pointed across the room to her phone on the TV mantle. “Go ahead and call that place down the street. I’m going to get some water.” She tossed the Cosmopolitanon the coffee table and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Harry with her phone. Alone.

It wasn't that Harry was a distrusting person, necessarily, he was just a bit nosy. He stared at the keypad in the phone app, switching over to the recent calls tab as quickly as he could. Most of them were pretty normal—her mum, Harry himself, her job, and so on… But what really confused Harry was the fact that the most recent phone call she’d made to Valerie was over two weeks ago.

Wait. He’d just heard her chatting with Val about her sex life yesterday. There’s no reason for her to have deleted the call so… it must have never happened.

Y/N had been playing him the whole time. His mind felt like it was short circuiting. He truly had thought he’d gone mad! She knew exactly what she was doing, at least ever since the popsicle incident. He wasn't sure if he should be mad or super turned on, but he was sure that she couldn't get away with this.

“Everything alright, Haz?” she asked, coming back into the living room with a sweating glass of ice water in her hand.

He scrambled to switch back to the keypad, hastily punching in the number to the shop and bringing the phone to his ear. “Yeah, m’fine! What’d you want on yours, again?”

***

THURSDAY

The next morning, Harry sat at the breakfast table, reading the paper and minding his business. A tiny rumble from his stomach made him consider eating something, since his tea wasn’t doing much for him. His thoughts were interrupted when Y/N joined him in the kitchen.

She fluttered in wearing only a t-shirt. It was a black band shirt that was long enough to cover her ass, but Harry still peered over his newspaper, wondering what kind of game she was going to play now.

The answer to that was metaphorically shoved in his face when Y/N got on her tip toes to reach a bowl on a high shelf; the hem of the shirt lifted as her arms did, exposing her panties. Harry couldn’t believe his eyes at first, but after a few seconds of shamelessly staring he realized they were the exact same pair she'd been wearing when he peeped her touching herself last Thursday.

They were silky and light pink, not covering her whole ass but not quite a thong. The fabric really framed her flatteringly and Harry felt an urge to grab her ass and maybe smack it, even more than he’d been wanting to earlier throughout the week.

Fed up, he scraped his chair back and threw down the paper. He marched over to her as she whirled around wearing that fake confused-and-innocent look she'd been rocking all week. Harry was quite done, however, and pressed her up against the counter, his semi-hard cock digging against her hip.

"Why are yeh doin' this to me, love?" he whispered, breath ghosting over the shell of her ear.

Her knees buckled, but she stayed standing thanks to H trapping her between his warm body and the counter. "I d-don't know what you mean."

Harry laughed dryly, grabbing her wrists and forcing them behind her, getting them even closer together. "That's enough of that, minx. Y’know you've been driving me mad all week just to get a rise out o’me." He smirked as his eyes dragged across her face.

She swallowed, trying not to break eye contact with this intimidating man. All she could do was nod.

His eyes darkened and he dropped his head down to her neck, brushing over the skin with his lips. "I want to hear you say it, pet," he growled. "Say you've been teasing me all week because you wanted my attention."

Her jaw dropped as he started sucking marks into her soft skin. "I teased you all week - oh God there - because I wanted your attention. Wanted you to fuck me."

Harry groaned at this, one fist coming up to yank at her hair. "Yeh think y’deserve that? You've been a real menace ‘n you shouldn’t get off that easy,” he demanded, grinding his cock into her hips. "You think you should get my cock inside your sweet cunt?”

“Yes!” she groaned out, knowing a nod wouldn’t suffice. The corner of his mouth tugged up once more, and he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder, carrying her up to her bedroom.

He set her down on the bed and joined her, crawling on his knees. “There’s a move I wanna show you,” he started, yanking his t-shirt off from the back of his neck. “Here’s what you’re gonna do, pet,” he ordered. “You’re gonna lie on your back and you’re gonna touch yourself.”

Her brows furrowed and she sat up on her elbows timidly. “Huh?”

“You heard me,” he barked, voice low. “Don’t act shy now, I saw how you make yourself feel.”

She nodded, pulling her shirt off her body. She laid back down and timidly pulled aside her underwear to expose her cunt to Harry. His own palm dug into the front of his trousers as she warmed herself up, rubbing circles around the sensitive spot on her clit.

“Wish it was,” she breathed, “wish it was your fingers. They’re so much – uh– bigger.” Y/N was one to put on a show and Harry was eating it up. Her fingers dipped inside herself and came out glistening wet, and he finally pulled out his cock from his trousers to start stroking himself. Neither one of them were really giving any thought to how insane masturbating with your best friend was—all they could think about was how long both of them have waited to do this.

Harry caught her eyeing his cock slicking in his palm. “Wanna get your mouth on me?” Her doe eyes met his, and she confidently nodded. “Stay still then,” he commanded, “Keep doing what you’re doing.”

So she continued fingering herself and Harry climbed over her and straddled just below her shoulders, so his cock was right at her mouth. She obediently stuck her tongue out and he slapped the head on it a couple times, eliciting a groan from his mouth. Y/N latched her mouth around him and sucked like she did on that damn popsicle. H grabbed a fistful of her hair as the moans from her self-inflicted pleasure rang through his cock into his body.

The more she touched herself, the more she moaned, and Harry was starting to lose it. Her fingers worked herself over as the heel of her palm slid over her clit. She came on her own fingers, just like she did by herself awhile back, and arched her back below him as her orgasm rippled throughout her.

“Can I come on your face, pretty girl?” he begged, and she politely nodded, having trouble catching her breath with a dick in her mouth. He pulled out and painted her face with thick ropes of white cum, body shaking as the pleasure washed over him. “Fuck, pet, you’re killin’ me.”

Once they’d caught their breath, Y/N got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a new t-shirt on and a clean face. Harry had since put his boxers back on, and she joined him on the bed. He was the first to speak.

“So… do you wanna go to hot yoga now?”

#harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles masterlist #majorharry #jawllines #harryforvogue #haroldloverboy #permanentcross #happy thursday bitches light up

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esabri · 4 years

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instant Markt market Grad degree besiedeln populate küken chick liebe dear Feind enemy antworten reply Getränk drink auftreten occur Unterstützung support Rede speech Natur nature Angebot range Dampf steam Bewegung motion Weg path Flüssigkeit liquid protokollieren log gemeint meant Quotient quotient Gebiss teeth Schale shell Hals neck Sauerstoff oxygen Zucker sugar Tod death ziemlich pretty Geschicklichkeit skill Frauen women Saison season Lösung solution Magnet magnet Silber silver danken thank Zweig branch Spiel match Suffix suffix insbesondere especially Feige fig ängstlich afraid riesig huge Schwester sister Stahl steel diskutieren discuss vorwärts forward ähnlich similar führen guide Erfahrung experience Partitur score apfel apple gekauft bought geführt led Tonhöhe pitch Mantel coat Masse mass Karte card Band band Seil rope Rutsch slip gewinnen win träumen dream Abend evening Zustand condition Futtermittel feed Werkzeug tool gesamt total Basis basic Geruch smell Tal valley noch 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waternilly · 3 years

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The End of an Era

Ship: Blackleg Sanji x f!OC Language: english Word count: 1.5k Warnings: none Ao3 link: here | Wattpad link: here Summary: Musicals! But what if this time the rivals were lovers in real life?

Many weeks and hours of hard work had come to their end. Tonight was the big finale of the musical Florence had built with both old and new friends over the semester. It hadn’t gone without troubles, but they had made it in the end.

As she waited between the wings on the side of the stage, the young woman let her mind drift off.

She thought back about the moment Mozart l’Opéra Rock had been announced as this year’s project. How all the students who would graduate in June shared the same excitement and thrill at the prospect.

She remembered the audition and how learning the lyrics to “Si Je Défaille” had been easy, being engraved in her memory ever since she was ten. She also remembered when she had to show up at the next audition to sing “Tatoue-Moi” on demand of her professor.

Florence had already performed as a male character in a previous project and she knew the professor’s demand was far from innocent. They had something in mind.

And she was right. The next week, once auditions for both singers, actors and dancers alike were over, the results were published.

1. Florence Moire ..... Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

A smile had crept on her face instantly. But what made her even happier was the name just two lines under hers.

3. Sanji Vinsmoke ..... Antonio Salieri

Not only would she perform as the main character of what was probably her favourite musical. The one to act as her rival was her own boyfriend.

Images of her sweet Sanji in black hair and eyeshadow had immediately crossed her mind and she couldn’t wait to see it happen.

That evening, the entire crew had gone to a local student pub and celebrated all night long. Florence lost count of how many times she got congratulated or all the teasing her and Sanji had gotten for acting out rivals.

It was one of Flo’s favourite memories. Everything felt right. No pressure or stress related to the production, school or the internship yet. Only pleasure, joy, excitement.

Rehearsals had started the same week, beginning with a script reading. Songs from the original musical were played whenever they were reached throughout the session. A few voice cracks and poorly acted sentences were uttered, but they were laughed off.

Florence and all the singers then went through some coaching first. Even though they were all decent already, they were still merely amateurs. Some had gotten such lessons the previous years, but everyone welcomed the tips from the teacher with open arms.

While those were reaching their end, they simultaneously started rehearsing with the actors. Their friends had already started learning their lines and now it was time for them to do as well.

To help with that process, Florence would often play the entire musical as background noise while studying or working on anything, to Sanji’s greatest amusement.

He early on realized that the one he tenderly referred to as ‘princess’ was nervous about the pressure put upon her shoulders. He often reminded her that the professor wouldn’t have given her the part if they didn’t believe her to be capable of it. He also loved to add that she would make for a great Mozart and an amazing rival, which would often help her calm down, at least temporarily.

As the dates approached and the rehearsals became longer -every song being performed in their entirety, accompanied by the dancers- the pressure among the whole crew rose. People started worrying about costumes or set pieces not being finished on time, about black outs on stage, about wigs falling off or ladies tripping over their massive dresses.

All of these faded shortly after luckily and everything was done in due time. The final rehearsal in full costume and make up also reassured everyone about what they had created. Which meant, representations could start. But not without some last minute preparations.

Bonney was left with her bright pink hair despite the professor’s reclamations who feared she would steal the show. The young woman’s determination was stronger however and she refused to incline, making her the very first pink haired Constanz Weber.

Luffy, who interpreted everyone’s favourite comic relief, Rosenberg, got his hair coloured grey with sprays often used for Halloween. It was slicked back and his face was painted bright white with two outrageously red spots on the cheeks. All of it, topped off with pencil-drawn eyebrows and two fake moles.

Sanji agreed to changing his style for the occasion. He got his hair dyed in a dark brown and slicked it all back except for one rebellious lock. Needless to say he was a sight for sore eyes like this. But every evening, before the representation, the benevolent make up artists who were fellow students painted his eyes with black eyeshadow, crayon and eyeliner. Black lipstick had also been considered at some point but was eventually discarded. And aside from all of that, he also walked around with black painted nails for a week.

As for Florence, the main thing she had to do was get a haircut. Her pixie hair had grown out during the semester and it required some touch ups. She was the one who had the wildest, most natural hairdo. It only got comped and sprayed to create some extra volume, but nothing too perfect. Her eyes got the same treatment as her lover’s however, which they liked to point out.

And then it was time.

The premiere.

Everyone was nervous to their core while simultaneously trying to help their friends calm down. Singers and actors alike reunited back stage to warm up their voices, a loud buzzing sound filling the room. Dancers took that opportunity to stretch and prepare as well. The entire crew was in its own bubble, in symbiosis with each other. Any conflicts that might have existed before were forgotten for now.

“Are you nervous, my love?” Sanji had asked his girlfriend just before she had to walk on stage.

“Yes,” she admitted.

With a smile, he had said: “You’ll feel better once you’re up there.”

She thanked him with a smile.

“Maybe turn on your microphone before it’s too late though,” he had teased.

Florence agreed, flipped the switch and ran up on stage. Sanji had been right. Merely seconds later, as she was uttering her very first line, she was calm, confident, poised. Every movement, every sentence flowed naturally. She felt good, at home.

To everyone’s surprise, nothing went wrong during the entire first act, which their professor naturally pointed out backstage during the break. They also complimented everyone’s acting, singing and dancing, clearly ecstatic with the result.

Flo knew what would come next. Someone started playing music while another person shouted to turn off the lights. Everyone jumped around and loudly shouted in unison with the music. A few even climbed on the table in the middle of the room to dance on it in a silly way, making the whole crew laugh.

That little tradition remained during the entire week of run, lasting the entire entre act every time. A twenty minute break of partying halfway through the musical.

Except it was now time to walk back on stage for the last time.

A loud ominous music played and Florence stepped into the light.

She gave everything she had in her, jumping and running around on stage.

Sanji then walked up himself, followed by Bonney who gave her best vocal performance yet.

Before long though, they reached the end of the musical and with it, the famous “Vivre à en Crever” scene. The only time Flo got to sing with her boyfriend throughout the entire performance.

She started, careful to keep a steady and clear voice. Then Sanji joined in. And ultimately, they sang together.

It was always one of the most poignant parts of the show and Florence had lost count of how many times she had almost kissed Sanji during it, never giving in however. Until now, whoever didn’t know them personally couldn’t have guessed they were a couple.

But that was about to change as it was time to salute and Florence had an idea in mind.

Once everyone had bowed in their usual position, they all started singing the most famous song of the musical -”Tatoue moi”- to celebrate the final representation. Florence took advantage of the context to ask Bonney to switch places with her since she was traditionally between her and Sanji. Florence wondered if the audience would react and how if they were to. By now, majority of the public wasn’t even from their college.

She started by just tangling their fingers but soon enough they were smiling at each other while singing eye to eye. When they reached the end of the song, Florence stood on the tip of her toes and pecked Sanji’s lips. He only grinned down at her before kissing her back.

Audible gasps, soon followed by extra cheers, could be heard throughout the audience. The public’s reaction was even better than what Flo was hoping for. She imagined the surprise it could be to see two people you pictured as rivals during the past two hours suddenly kiss. It amused her as well.

It might have been her last performance with this great crew of people but Florence had no reason to be sad. They had all gone out with a bang; Ace, Kid, Bonney, Sanji, herself. That night wouldn’t be one of mourning the end of an era. It would be a night to celebrate what they had achieved.

A/N: Bit of a cheesy ending yes, but oh well ^^” Please let me know what you thought of it, I haven’t written 3rd person fanfics in English in literally so long! Also, yeah, OC! Long time since I last wrote one. Any comments are welcome ^^ Thank you very much for reading <3

#one piece #one piece x oc #one piece scenario #one piece imagine #sanji #blackleg sanji #sanji x oc #blackleg sanji scenario #sanji scenario #nille writes #english #mor #mozart l'opera rock #mozart l'opéra rock

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borisbubbles · 4 years

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27. CROATIA

Damir Kedzo - “Divlji vjetre”

youtube

An A for Adequacy, a C for Creativity.

Song Analysis

General opinion on Croatia seems nearly unanimously geared towards “Okay, but nothing special” and in this instance I agree with the fandom.

In fact, ranking Damir right after Diodato only feels apt because their songs are conceptually equal as well? Both “Divlji vjretre” and “Fai Rumore” are loud, shouty, dramatic midtempo ballads that provide expressive emotiveness set to a lukewarm tune. They’re both textbook examples of songs typically released in their countries of origin. Both are also by men whose physical attractiveness is somewhat overrated - I’m sure Damir considers himself hot, but boy have I got news for you:

Buzzcuts can be hot, but not if they accentuate that your face is kinda too small for your head, iykwim.

However, while my opinions on their songs are similar and although I *just* ranked Diodato, I would argue that “Divlji Vjetre” is notably better than “Fai Rumore”. Fai Rumore has its production value going for it, but it really suffers from being the same tried-and-true Sanremo snottiness. Divlji Vjetre on the other hand, might be a Balkan Ballad, but actually makes a very good attempt at being credible and modern and... it sort of succeeds? The build up is quite nice, actually. I could have definitely seen myself warming to this song had it gone to Rotterdam. Pity Croatia ran their reputation into the ground so nobody can be bothered to conjure up some sort of excitement for their entries, huh?

Overall, there are no negative things to be said. But I also see no reason to commit myself towards liking it either. Oh, the struggle of being death fodder in a godlike semifinal.

NF Corner

Lol I’ll have to blank you here, I did NOT watch Dora. (I never bother with the non-Slovene Yugo’s). I hear it was a deal similar to San Remo - Good selection, some crazy mold-breaking entries, boringly obvious (and obviously boring) winner. Been here, done that. Well okay, I lied. I did see *TWO* Dora entries. And honestly, I don’t think I need to go back and see the rest:

AKlea Neon - “Zovi ju mama”

youtube

I erupt into chills and giggles from the first second of this song and never recover. I have no words, at least no words that can be strung together into a full, coherent sentence. Aggressive feminism coated in a thick cobweb of eco-warriorhood <3 the neo-wiccan herb stall prop <3 the haphazard swapping between broken English, animal noises and some incomprehensible Croatian dialect. <3 The trippy aerobics dance, complete with a FIERCE helicopter braid (Slavko and Failee DEAD IN A DITCH) <3 I love how this NF season somehow gave us FOUR kick-ass, clinically insane environmentally themed avant garde entries (this, Pich, Maras Zemle and La-Ley-La). What I don’t love is that none of them won their respective selection shows. 😐

Indira Levak - “You will never break my heart”

youtube

Wait, TWO aggressive lesbians in the same NF? That’s where the similarities end though. While “Zovi ju Mama” had a very strong ~artistic~ undercurrent, “You will break my heart” is unabashed eurodance TRASH. 😍 The Brutalero of this selection, except not a visual mess. “You will never breakth my heart” is like... an early aughts Football Cup anthem, revamped to cater the needs of renaissance hag adventurer Indira Levak. Yes, she’s a brilliant haggress (lol she’s 46. - Well, “46″). 😍 and yes, Indira was so OBVIOUSLY edging for another Croatian BDex award that I would’ve stanned the NQ that would’ve come with it. Like, even if we ignored the colour for a sentence or two, what on earth is that garment she’s wearing? A bathing suit, ruff skirt, a jacket with shoulder pads, gloves, some random strips of fabric that hold it together because NOT showing Indira’s “six and fourty year old” cleavage wasn’t an option. ALL OF THE ABOVE BEING IN THAT AGGRESSIVE, EYE-BLEEDING SHADE OF FUSCHIA and completed with a set of silver fuck-me boots 😍 And on top of that her dancers are dressed in what look like recycled Gaitana rags. The choreography of fist pumping the air / twirling around / caressing the faces of Indira’s boytoy dancers (how is that even a running theme in the 2020 NF season, but more poignantly how did it fail to win a 2020 NF), rinse and repeat, is PERFECT. Should’ve beaten Damir, tyvm!!!

Lol that’s all I know, but that’s ~ENOUGH~ Feel free to share more if overlooked them.

Croatia 2020 vs Croatia 2021

Croatia probably would have NQ’d? Semifinal 1 was a very tight race and “Divlji vjetre” was outclassed by many more memorable entries. I do believe we would’ve had at least one shock qualifier (maybe that’s just me, but I find it impossible to see both Israel AND Azerbaijan in the finale - surely one of them is robbed horribly, right), but my money was on Cyprus or Slovenia for that role.

Damir will likely be back for 2021 (I think? Is there even going to *be* a 2021 contest?), so at least there’s that, I guess. Can’t say I’m excited but a better ballad than “Dvijli Vjetre” would be almost guaranteed green on my ranking. I am keeping my fingers crossed.

FREAKY! FRIDAY! FACTOR!

Sadly, the Freaky! Factor is just not quite there for Damir. I do appreciate the *attempts* “Dvilji vjetre” makes to not be boring, but it just never really goes *there*, you know? (lol I’m writing this at 2:21 am FORGIVE ME if I sound a bit strained). Dora did have at least two great entries though, so while Damir doesn’t sound too bad compared to the other 2020 NF laureates (lol didn’t i already boot most of them? For such a good NF season, 2020 had such shit NF winners), but compared to Indira/AKlea Neon, there’s only one word/emoji combo to describe his Dora victory: TYPICAL 🙄

Score: 1 Senhit out of 5.

#Eurovision #Eurovision 2020 #Eurovision Song Contest #Croatia #Damir Kedzo #Divlji vjetre

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buckybabybaby · 4 years

Text

Mr Hollywood (Epilogue Part III)

Summary: Bucky Barnes, an underpaid teaching assistant in a small English village, dreams of a movie career back in his home country of America. He finally gets the break he's always wanted, and if it wasn't for you, his best friend, he wouldn't have been able to take it.

But is that fact enough to save your friendship when it's tested by the pressures of Hollywood?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader (Gender Neutral)

Word count: 1532

Chapter summary: The peace of normality, for once.

A/n: Probably the last epilogue, but who can say?! I think this rounds if off nicely though...

(If the picture is all blurry, opening it in a new tab in browser helps!)

Warnings: Just fluff.

Previous: Epilogue Part II

Mr Hollywood Masterlist | Main Masterlist

*****

“Do you mind it when Mr Barnes kisses other people?”

You don't have to look up to know Isabella is staring across your desk at you, eager to know the answer. Her younger sister Emilia has also drifted in to your classroom this evening, dragging with her a box full of building blocks, and is currently creating a mini town on your window sill and ignoring everything else, not quite old enough to be interested in gossip.

If you can call it gossip. Even with Bucky's dramatics over the month you spent in America, the paparazzi didn't catch on to anything and you returned to England and your work just as anonymous as you left.

That doesn’t mean, however, that curious little eight year olds can't figure out that something has changed between you and him. Edwin and his wife Ana both work full time, which isn't usually a problem as the two girls attend after-school clubs most days of the week, and even on Fridays when there aren't any running it's still not a problem as there is plenty to keep them occupied while they wait to be picked up. The music room seems to be a favourite of theirs, the lure of bashing around on the drums or piano unsupervised too hard to resist, but more often that not recently they can be found with you.

Isabella's continuing. “And do you make him clean his teeth before he kisses you afterwards?”

You laugh, still surprised at how direct she is. It only took her a couple of minutes to wrangle out the truth about you and Bucky on you the first day back, and so far it seems like she's stuck to her vow of keeping it to herself, in exchange for stories of your time in Hollywood.

She's still talking. “Does his character kiss other people? I haven't seen the show, daddy says I can watch it when I'm a little bit older.”

“Your daddy's probably right,” You say, not answering her other questions.

That doesn't stop her asking, “Will you get married to him now?”

“We'll have to see.”

“Will daddy get an invite to your wedding? 'Cos then I could come too! Emilia's too small but I could come, couldn't I?”

“Don't get too excited, Isabella. Nothing will happen for a few years yet, probably.”

Resting her head on her crossed arms, her brow furrows in obvious disappointment and you feel guilty.

You can't have that. “Tell you what.” Holding out your hand, you offer her your little finger and she wraps her own much smaller one around it with a grin. “When we get married, I'll make sure you get an invite, okay?” She gasps happily, and you add, “And one for Emilia, because I'm not planning on marrying him any time soon so she'll be old enough by then.”

“If you wait a few more years then the new baby can come too!” Isabella's hands clap over her mouth as you both realise what she's said. “I wasn't meant to say!”

You feign confusion. “Say what?”

She slumps back into her seat in relief, giggling quietly when you wink at her.

Then a soft knock interrupts from the classroom door and you look up to find Ana leaning against the frame. Not so subtly you glance at her tummy, trying to see if you can make out a bump, and from the look on her face, she notices.

Isabella and Emilia jump up at her arrival, gathering up their belongings as she comes to perch on your desk.

“I'm guessing she told you?”

“In her defence, it was an accident.”

Ana shakes her head fondly as she watches her oldest collecting her pens and zipping them away in her bag. “We didn't really expect her to not too. We're in the process of telling people so it doesn't really matter, and I'm just so pleased she's excited.”

Her daughters have finished fastening their coats and are hovering by the door, tired now after a long week and more than ready for dinner and bed.

“Thank you for looking after them.”

You whisper your congratulations as you hug her goodbye, waving as they leave, and you've nearly packed up your own book bag when you're interrupted again.

“This place really doesn't change, huh?”

Spinning around, you're met with the most beautiful sight you can imagine on a Friday evening. Bucky, taking advantage of a break between his scenes to visit you for the first time since the summer, is stood in your doorway in the outfit he tends to wear every time he travels, and before you can stop yourself you're skipping across the room and into his arms.

“I thought I was picking you up from the airport?” You mumble against his shoulder.

He shrugs and holds you closer. “Got an earlier flight. So I thought I'd come and surprise you.”

“You're the best sort of surprise I could ask for,” You admit. “If you'd been here ten minutes ago you could've also surprised your biggest fan.”

“Edwin's daughter, 'bella?”

“Yeah. She's first on the guest list when we get married, too.”

He leans back slightly to catch your eye, grinning widely. “Oh, it's 'when' now, is it? Not 'if'? That's encouraging.”

Your smile matches his. “But we'll have to wait until both of her siblings are old enough to attend too, I've made a solemn promise I couldn't possibly break.”

Bucky frowns. “Both her-oh, a new baby?”

“Yep.”

“And you don't want screaming babies ruining your big day?”

“Nope. Well, not ideally.”

“So, three to four years is how long we've got to wait?”

“If you're prepared to?”

Bopping your nose, he slides his lips briefly across yours. “Don't worry doll, I'm a very patient man.”

*****

“He's going to spoil your little girl rotten, I hope you know that.”

Sat on one side of your lounge with Sophia, you watch Bucky on the other side of the room cradle week old Amelia like she's make of tissue paper. The timing of his trip back 'home' is perfect as his baby niece was born just days ago, a much easier birth than her older brother so the whole family's able to come round to your house for the afternoon when she's still so young.

“Well, not rotten,” You acknowledge. “Never rotten, not one of your children, but he's still going to absolutely treasure her like he does Benjamin.”

“I know. I don't really think there's anything I can do to stop him.”

“Nah, you've just got to embrace it.”

“And what about you? Does he spoil you too?”

You flush at the knowing look she gives you. “He tries to.”

Not elaborating nor giving her a chance to pry any further, you get up and saunter over to admire the newborn, sitting next to Bucky on the sofa as Dayton slips away back to his wife, leaving the two of you alone for a minute.

Bucky turns to you. “Do you want to hold her?”

“Oh, er-”

“Here.” He holds Amelia out to you carefully. “Just keep her head supported and she'll be fine.”

“O-Okay.”

Waiting until you settle comfortably, he then passes you the precious bundle. You're tense at first, terrified of holding her incorrectly and causing her pain, but when she doesn't stir in your arms, you sink back into the sofa and watch her sleep. She looks almost exactly like her brother did when he was born, just that the soft hair across her forehead is darker, the same colour as her father as opposed to Benjamin's blonder curls, matching his mothers.

“She's so tiny,” You murmur in awe.

Bucky nods, smiling down at her when she stretches. “But she won't be for long. Which is yet another reason to come back more often.”

*****

It may be October half-term, but with the sun shining down it's warm enough to enjoy the fresh air in the garden, at least for a little while. Benjamin drags himself away from his little sister long enough to offer the chickens some corn, and under the watchful eye of both his parents he hesitantly holds out his hand to them, even after you warn him their beaks may hurt. Just like his dad and uncle, he loves a challenge.

Bucky guides you away from the others, ambling around the edge of the borders as he tells you about his and Sam’s latest antics, finally stopping at the base of the apple tree that holds so many memories.

“I miss you Y/N.”

“I'm right here.”

“I know, but when I'm gone, I-” He pauses, sighing. “I wish it could be like this all the time.”

“Me too.”

“I was thinking, for the next project, I could find a role a bit closer to you. Maybe a British production?”

“You shouldn't limit yourself for me.”

“No. But if something came up...”

“Then that would be very nice.”

“Wouldn't it?”

He holds you tight as he kisses you in a sunny patch under the slowly yellowing leaves, and you know that, whatever comes your way, as long as you have moments like this nothing will ever tear you two apart.

*****

Epilogue Part IV (Final!)

*****

A/n 2: if this is this last part I just wanna thank everyone who read and commented on this over the last eight months! It's been quite a while, so if you've stuck with it, thank you!! Once again I find it hard to let go when I feel like I've built a little safe family around Bucky, but there's always more stories to write, and different ways for him to fall in love with y/n, so watch this space ;)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #buckybabybaby #Mr Hollywood

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