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watching-pictures-move · 2 years

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Movie Review | My Name Called Bruce (Velasco, 1978)

When you call your movie My Name Called Bruce, one could reasonably expect a fair amount of Bruce in your movie. Not the real Bruce Lee, mind you, as he's dead. But a Bruce Lee imitator, given that the movie falls into the Bruceploitation genre. Alas, this movie fails to deliver on that simple level. The Bruce Lee clone here is Bruce Le, but his screentime is shockingly limited and he disappears for large chunks of the movie. Even worse, when he's onscreen, he doesn't even get to do all that much fun stuff. There are none of the tea-kettle-like kiai noises we know and love, none of the facial contortions that make him look like he's about to have a seizure. The sounds coming out of his mouth are normal and the expressions he uses are limited. He briefly sports a fake beard, similar to the disguise worn by the Bruce Lee imitator in Game of Death, but there's little of the Bruce Le magic otherwise. And before you ask, I don't think he's even called Bruce in this, despite what the title says.

Instead, the real star of the movie is a female cop. Who played this cop seems to be throwing me for a loop, as I see a few articles about the movie referring to her as Christina Cheung, but IMDb credits someone named Eu-Joo Im (and offers no such alias). For all I know they're the same person but I don't care to dig further. The point is, she has a pretty agreeable presence and makes you wish she were in a better movie, as the one here is a super-generic crime story about stolen antiques that I was forgetting as I was watching it. As a result, I may have tuned out a lot of the details, but it's the movie's fault and I am innocent of all charges. Aside from the fight scenes, the highlight of her appearance involves a scene where she wears a towel, and through the magic of editing, changes into a completely different outfit without letting the creepy guy she was with catch a peek. The movie is also spiced up by a reasonably funky soundtrack, including a piece that sounds suspiciously like "Gimme Some Lovin'", a song I will always associate with Iron Eagle, as the hero plays the tape as he proceeds to bomb fake Libya back to the stone age. (The movie is not known for enlightened views on foreign policy.) None of this has anything to do with My Name Called Bruce, I just wanted to talk about Iron Eagle.

It did not work in the movie's favour that I watched this on an abominable transfer, even by the standard of the less than pristine copies I've been watching most of these Bruceploitation movies on. (I'm not gonna knock the YouTube channels that posted these as I think they're doing good work, but I suspect a good DVD edition was never released for most of these movies in the first place. I remembering hearing rumours that one of the boutique Blu-ray labels was planning on releasing a Bruceploitation box set at one point, so I will likely grab that if it transpires.) There are a few scenes in darkened environments that, were I feeling more generous might suggest have an unintentional avant garde quality, but will more soberly note are just very hard to decipher. I will say that the version I watched was around twenty minutes shorter than the runtime listed on Letterboxd, but I'd wager that a longer runtime would not benefit the movie.

As for the fight scenes, most of them are watchable enough but lack enough inspiration to make an impact, especially as the villains are defined only in the loosest, most generic terms. The movie uses a fair bit of slow motion in capturing the heroine in these fight scenes, meaning that we get a lot of her hair fluttering in the wind in slow motion, and I admit I was not immune to her charms in these moments. (The heart wants what it wants.) The movie picks up in the final fifteen-to-twenty minutes when we get a fight scene where Le fends off a few baddies while blindfolded and tied up, then the heroine chases after the main baddie on motorcycle then on foot, and then we get a final showdown between her and the baddie, with Le briefly stepping in. The metamorphosis of the chase isn't quite as inspired as a similar one in The Heroin Busters (which has an all-time great climax), but is still quite a bit of fun. The final fight alas fumbles the opportunity for a two-on-one confrontation, but I suppose it would look bad if the Bruce Lee impersonator needed help in a fight. Even though the heroine ends up stepping back in at the last moment.

But yeah, twenty fun minutes, mostly at the end. Dull as shit otherwise.

#film #movie review #my name called bruce #joseph velasco

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kimnjss · 4 years

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sugarfree!seokjin | a-z

⤑ series: sugar free

⤑ genre: smut, richboi!jin x artist!reader, college au

⤑ rating: explicit. // nd unedited.

⤑ warnings: smut talk... (mentions of) oral sex (f/m. receiving), penetrative sex, blowjobs, public sex...

⤑ A/N: this ended sooo quickly :/ im highkey thinking abt turning this into something bigger, bc im gonna miss richboi!jin .

A = Aftercare (what's he like after sex):

Jin is very good at taking care of you after sex. Always made sure to check if you were feeling alright, and ready to go and get you some water if need be. A bit tired himself,he'd ignore it until he was sure you were good.

B = Body Part (his favorite body part of his and also yours):

His favorite body part on you would definitely have to be your hands. They were so much smaller than his and he found that extremely cute. Jin liked the way you kept your nails painted and how big his cock looked grasped your small palm.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum basically...):

Jin is not into getting real messy when it comes to sex. No messier than needed. Also the head advocate of safe sex, meant a condom was always used no matter what. Hardly ever came when you were sucking him off, wanting to save it for when he actually got to fuck you and was able to fill the condom.

D = Dirty Secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of his):

He really likes dressing you up in all these expensive outfits just to tear them off of you. Jin really liked the way imported silk looked against your skin and he wasn't one to hold back when he had the urge to spend. Dressing you up was a favorite of his.

E = Experience (how experienced is he? does he know what he's doing?):

Jin is no more experienced than you, even if he's slept with a bit more people than you have. You were no prude and you knew your stuff, so there was no lull in your sex life when it was finally starting.

F = Favorite Position (this goes without saying...):

In liking to keep it simple, Jin usually went for the traditional missionary position or on occasion he'd have you on top. Either one out of those two were his favorite, it didn't matter really as long as he was able to see your face.

G = Goofy (is he more serious in the moment, or is he humorous, etc.):

Very serious during sex, only because he knows that you take it seriously. That's not to say that he's boring, but he is just cautious with what he says and how he acts making sure that he doesn't say or do anything that might rub you the wrong way convincing you to stop the entire ordeal.

H = Hair (how well-groomed is he, does the carpet match the drapes? how does he like you?):

Jin like to keep everything prim and proper and that included his pubic hair. Went for regular waxes the same day he was getting his toes and nails clipped. He believed it was a big part of personal hygiene. Of course, he wanted the best for you – so as the two of you became more comfortable with each other, he was scheduling appointments for you too; where you'd have your nails done along with all the hair on your body.

I = Intimacy (how is he in the moment, romantic aspect...):

Romantic whenever he was getting really into it. Jin knew how you felt about big gestures, how you tended to appreciate the little things more, but that didn't stop him from trying to wow you. It didn't happen often, but when he was feeling a certain swell in his heart for you – he would be quick to call to put something together that he know would make you roll your eyes.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

Jin didn't mind getting himself off, did it as much as he could. He considered it as an act of self care rather than something sexual. It was a good bit of alone time for him, so he didn't see the need to bug you about it.

K = Kink (one ore more of his kinks):

Public sex. Of all the nice places Jin has taken you in the time that the two of you have been together, he can never keep himself from wondering if you'd let him fuck you right where you were. Relationship still fresh, he's too nervous to ask... little did he know you'd be more than willing to consider the idea.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do):

Aside from being ready to be with you, wherever and whenever – Jin found himself really enjoying fucking you in hotel rooms. It must come from the feeling of being away from home, a mini vacation taken no matter how close you both were to your houses. A hotel room was just different for him.

M = Motivation (what turns him on, gets him going):

Seeing you dressed up for him. Jin was always showering you with new clothes, shoes, accessories and to your understanding it was because he had no idea what impulse control was – needing to throw his money around with each step he took. In reality, though, he really really enjoyed the way expensive looked on you.

N = NO (something he wouldn't do, turn offs):

Bondage. He liked to be able to touch you and found the restraints very uncomfortable. Jin would have to put a lot of thought into the situation if you were asking for him to tie you up... would try to brush it off as a joke, not fully taking it into consideration until he was sure it was something you really wanted.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):

Giving. Jin really liked the sounds you made when you were about to cum and one way he was sure would ensure your whiny moans was if he had his head between your legs. He also loved the way you were always taking to wrapping your legs around his head, holding him close to you.

P = Pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? Etc.):

Slow and sensual. Jin believed in cherishing all the time he had with you, so he wanted to take his time during. A lot of whispered admiration, and longing gazes occurred while he was fucking you. Although, he'd sometimes find himself speeding up when he was close.

Q = Quickie (his opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often... etc.):

Did not like them, at all. Because he liked to take his time with you, he felt a quickie was a waste of an orgasm and wouldn't even be down to try it. Jin would much rather hold his load and wait until you had the proper amount of time to have sex.

R = Risk (is he game to experiment, does he take risks):

No risks and hardly any experimenting. Jin was pretty traditional guy, so he wasn't too ready to abandon his traditions. If it was obvious something that you really wanted to try, he'd offer a serious talk about it where you'd make the proper decision. S = Stamina (how many rounds can he go for, how long does he last...):

Since Jin was into taking his time, it meant he could go for a very long time. He had gotten real good at pacing himself throughout his years of being sexually active, so he was hardly ever blowing his load without being fully ready for it. Even with the duration that he fucks you, he is still able to pull two or three rounds. T = Toy (does he own toys? does he use them? on a partner or himself?):

Jin is not into the use of toys, and as far as he knows you don't have any. He didn't see the point of adding a toy into the bedroom, when he was right there ready and capable to do everything that toy could.

U = Unfair (how much does he like to tease?):

There wasn't much teasing when it came to the two of you, maybe a little bit right before you were getting down to it... like before your clothes are even off, but once things were heating up, neither of you could even think of holding back. V = Volume (how loud is he, what sounds does he make?):

His voice becomes lower when he's turned on, not so loud. Hushed grunts and groans leave his lips, long hisses as he feel himself getting closer. Jin is not all that vocal, likes to let himself feel everything, rather than try and coach you through it. W = Wild Card

If Jin is every getting you to agree to fly to Paris, he is definitely going to find a way to fuck you on the Eiffel Tower.

X = X-Ray (let's see whats going on in those pants, pictures or words):

Jin is very, very big. Thick too. His cock stops just below his belly button when he's hard, pretty veins wrapped around the entire length. It was a wonder he could actually fit inside of you.

Y = Yearning (how high is his sex drive?):

His sex drive is normal. Wanted you, when he wanted you and that was all he could figure about it. There was a lot of things that you did that got him worked up, but he was usually able to control himself until he could have you properly.

Z = Zzz... (how quickly does he fall asleep afterwards?):

Only if he was really tired before the two of you started. Jin wouldn't always be falling right to sleep after the two of you had sex, but he would find himself feeling lazy... wanting nothing more than laying around with you as the day passes by.

taglist: @randomkoalablog @smoljams @dee-ehn @jaiuneamesolitaiire @lilacdreams-00 @sw33tnight @bangtansonyeondayyyum @okblve @jinhitwhore @tae165 @hellotherehoneybee @bangtansbun @betysotelo18 @cherriigguk @koostime @kooinluv @butterflylion @kookiesjoonies @uxwi @honeyoongles @imajiningseokjin @amoreguk @beeeb05 @tommasauras @bluefaeriefury @butterflylion @withlovestudyblr @samros95 @korkanswers @houseofarmanto @soulstaes @thesunisup-theskyisblue @jinsearth @aizuwusho @moonb0yy @tan-dulset @8sjaf @mini-coop25 @marifujioka @sunskook @elliemeetsevil @ratking101 @leovaldezisfire @greyaceupyoursleeve @emmy17jane @la-evforia @softlyjins

#jin #kim seokjin #jin smut #jin x reader #bts x reader #jin sm au #bts #bts smut #jin a-z #sugar free sm au

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dreamyarcana · 6 years

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Winter Memories

o h my god someone smaSH a freaking stop sign to my face next time i think of ever doing something like this again, i say as i already have an idea for next time.

in all seriousness, I really, really hope you guys like this (even if it doesn’t feature your apprentice) because i put a lot of effort into this piece that’s a WHOPPING 2,150 words, aka more than I normally would >.> im so lazy, have you met me?

i had an idea of doing a multi-apprentice fanfic for awhile now, and it turned into this. I don’t know how this would actually work in canon, and it’s more like kind of an au style where multiple apprentices kind of exist in the same ‘realm.’ how they got there and whatnot, is completely up to the reader’s imagination! to the owners of the apprentices, let me know if i need to fix anything, me making a mistake? more likely than you think

I have intentions of making a part 2 because there’s a few apprentices that I’d like to write for, so if I’ve already talked/asked you about that, don’t worry if they’re not in this one~

I hope you and enjoy and if you actually read to the end, I’ll love you forever because it i s l o ng XD

featuring (in order of appearance): Darcy [ @murielswife ], Avohkii [ @nadias-bitch ], Aveana [ @devoraakss ], Wren [ @asra-memelord ], Uma [ @julianandgems ], and Isla [ my own ]

The first thing Muriel woke up to was coughing in the middle of the night. Non-stop, soprano pitched coughing beside him. Darcy’s small body shook delicately as she gasped for breath.

“Darcy…” Muriel murmured, worried. He pressed his hand to he forehead lightly, and could feel the heat radiating like she was the sun. The former gladiator slipped out of bed carefully as not to wake his sick magician. He fetched a damp cloth as well as some water.

“Darcy, wake up,” he gently tapped her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open, and an expression of confusion crossed her face.

“Is something wrong, Muriel?” Her voice sounded weak and sleepy. He nodded stoically.

“You’re extremely hot.”

“W-what?” Darcy could feel a blush rising in her cheeks. “...thank you?”

“As in temperature. You’re always beautiful, though.” Muriel reassured her with a kiss on her cheek.

“I love you, darling,” Darcy’s voice was musical to Muriel, even when sick.

“I love you, too.”

“What time is it? I think we’re suppose to head over to Asra’s later to see him and Is - she yawned, her pink lips making a round O - Isla.”

“I’ll make sure to let them know you’re sick when you’re back asleep.”

“Muuuuuurieellll,” she whined playfully.

“You need rest.”

“Okay, fine…” Darcy felt too exhausted to argue. Her smooth, small hands took one of Muriel’s rough, massive hands; she daintily placed it over her heart. Darcy curled up close beside him, the side of her flushed face pressed against his slow moving chest. Muriel waited until her breathing was steady before slithering out of bed to brew some soup and inform Asra.

When he returned by her side, all Muriel could think of was how lucky he was to have such a sweet and gorgeous magician that loved him. He dearly hoped she would feel better soon and swore to himself he’d take care of her until she did.

ღ

The early morning rays peeked through tentatively through the window as a thoughtful Avohkii dressed in the dim light. They felt as if their mind hadn't quite settled down that night - like it was a running, nonstop buzzing hum in the quiet air despite the fact they were surrounded by luxury at the palace.

However, Avohkii had an idea that previous night to surprise their cherished Countess. Walking down quietly to the palace kitchens, Avohkii’s mind remained pensive, with ideas before they settled down to work.

In the palace kitchens, there were pots and pans of every size, more spices than they could ever name, and an abundant amount of handheld tools from potato peelers to whisks to spatulas. It took them quite a bit to locate the ingredients required, but Avohkii was thrilled to be using such fine flour and sugar.

Even though they weren’t a professional chef, Avohkii enjoyed baking; they figured they could at least show the gratitude for everything their Countess had done for them.

ღ

The sweet aroma of the cookies wafted up to where Nadia was approaching curiously. The servants told her the most recently employed magician was currently doing something of interest in the kitchens. Avohkii glanced behind when he heard light footsteps approaching them; a gratifying, shy smile crossed their face their features. Her magenta eyes glimmering in amusement and happiness, Nadia returned the gesture. Reaching for their hands, she moved closer.

At that moment, the timer went off, signaling to take out the second batch of cookies. Avohkii held up a finger, telling Nadia to wait a second while he took the sheet out of the oven. Inhaling the delectable scent in amazement, Nadia watched the baker with great interest and admiration. With much joy, Avohkii fetched a cookie from the cooling rack and handed it to Nadia. She bit into it thoughtfully.

“This is absolutely palatable and most pleasing to my tastebuds,” she complimented. Beaming, Avohkii stepped closer to Nadia, who then added softly, “Avohkii, you...have some frosting on your lips. May I help you get it off?”

They nodded as Nadia moved in, softly biting their lip and wrapping her arms around them, allowing both of them to lose themselves in each other.

ღ

In another part of The Palace, another magician was busy at work. Aveana had been out in the early cold morning, attempting to accomplish things. Of course, Lucio, found a way to impede her efforts.

“Come with me, you look chilled,” Lucio slyly murmured in Aveana’s ear from behind her. She jumped slightly in surprise and turned, her large eyes meeting his. He stood arrogantly and with a smirk, his arms crossed confidently in the palace hallway.

“But, Nadia’s around,” she said, her voice low and worried.

“Do you really think I’d let her catch us together?” he scoffed superciliously, raising his eyebrows. She huffed and glanced down.

“Do you even know where she is?”

“Yes. She’s currently with Avohkii right now,” he replied, as if she should know this bit of information.

Ah, yes. Another magician Nadia had insisted on bringing to the Palace. She had long since grown a liking to him since, which gave Aveana and Lucio more chances to have secret rendezvous meetings.

Aveana rolled her eyes at the Count.

“Now, do you think we’ll get caught?”

“...no,” she muttered.

“Exactly. Come with me.”

Lucio guided the magician through the festively decorated hallways to his bathing quarters. Raising her eyebrows in silence, she followed as he held the door for her, and then locked it.

Aveana had seen most parts of the Palace, but Lucio’s private bathing chambers was an area where the majority of people weren't allowed. Like the rest of the place, it had small holiday decor around. She could see her own reflection along with the fairy lights in the shiny floor, if she really squinted.

“Aveana,” Lucio’s voice was soft and inviting, in contrast to his usual demeanor. “There's only one thing I need this Christmas...and it's you.”

“...Lucio…”

Lucio’s golden arm wrapped around Aveana, drawing her closer to The Count.

“You're shivering, still. What ridiculous this did you do now, take a nap outside in the snow at dawn?”

“You're hilarious.” she answered sarcastically. “I was out getting supplies earlier, before the rush.”

“Clearly didn't dress warm enough,” snorted Lucio. “Perhaps I can help out warming you up.”

Aveana bit her lip as Lucio moved to slip off her clothes.

“...I'd like that.”

ღ

Wren felt tired and slightly put out. The previous week had been tiring as they had been required to meet with Valerius and the other members of the Court, much to their dismay. Additionally, to add to the exhaustion, Wren had used the extent of their rune magic in attempt to extract the falseness and lies as well as achievement spiritual strength. Portia had done her best to ease Wren through it with tea and small pastries, giving them a sympathetic smile.

Day after day, Wren found themselves spending more and more time with the inquisitive handmaiden. Her good nature and cheerfulness seemed to rub off onto Wren frequently - they found themselves to be more optimistic and determined because of her. Of course, between both's habit of snooping, the two bonded quicker than either normally would.

This particular day, the sky was a rare blue and snow twinkled invitingly outside. It was impossible for Wren not to be near the windows to see the day stretch across the horizon like a painting.

“Hey, Wren!” Wren glanced up to see Portia dashing towards them energetically. “Would you like to come with me to go sledding outside for a bit?”

“Sledding?” Wren asked, unsure what it was.

“Yep,” confirmed Portia, “It’s sort of complicated to explain, but you’ll see it was.”

Out of mere curiosity, Wren put on their winter wear and then followed her outside, unsure of what to expect. Sledding, apparently, was hopping on a board and riding down the snow on the ground, usually on a hill. Portia showed them the first time round how to and with encouragement, Wren tentatively got on with her and went down the next hundred times or so.

The magician enjoyed the rushing of air on their cheeks and through their hair, and couldn’t help but flush slightly when he held onto the handmaiden for balance.

Later, both returned, red nosed, flushed, and delighted with the day’s events. Portia gave a smile and a wave before disappearing to finish the day’s duties. Wren didn't mind; it give them a chance to reflect over that afternoon.

Privately, they wished they could save those memories to keep forever and ever.

ღ

“Here we are,” Uma announced happily, glancing up at the doctor. Today, she had treated him to a special place she had always treasured.

“It’s...beautiful,�� Julian murmured, his eyes glancing around at the magnificent sight. Icicles hung like lights from tree branches which were covered in heavenly white snow. The muted sunlight reflected off the crystalline lake and caused the snow around to almost shimmer and shine. Privately admiring it, the doctor leaned down gently touched the frozen lake. Uma strolled over to a nearby bench and dusted the white powdery snow off of it, before setting her bag down. She slipped on the smaller pair of ice skates she had brought with her.

“It reminds me of The Palace.” she noted thoughtfully. “The frozen lake has the same elegance and refined manner to it.”

“Does it?”

“It reminds me of others magicians I’ve met at the Palace, previously. Some of them were shy and quiet, but you could tell they had so many thoughts and ideas running through mind always.” Uma’s tone was hard to decipher - there were traces of melancholy and a reflective nature buried in it; nevertheless, she shook her head and gave the doctor a bright smile afterwards. “Anyways, come with me on the ice.”

Julian’s eyes widened. “Is it... safe?”

“You would know more than I, Doctor.” Uma giggled. “Kidding, it’s safe. You can tell by the way it’s frozen.” She pushed off of Julian, skating a graceful circle before returning to him. The doctor slipped on the bigger pair she had left for him before cautiously approaching her.

Meanwhile, Uma had skated around the lake, gaining speed before slowing down to help Julian, who promptly fell on his butt, onto the ice.

“We’ll go slow,” she promised with a light laugh. And so they did together, just like they were dancing. The doctor suspecting she might be using a tad bit of her magic to help him, but it was much appreciated.

Once he had gotten the hang of it, Julian felt like he was flying - flying with his one and only, Uma.

ღ

Back at the shop, Isla was humming a sweet lullaby as she she always did when Asra slept on her lap like always. Her fingers weaved mindlessly in and out of his soft hair; she observed each breath the magician took as he napped quietly. The fireplace crackled in the background comfortingly as night fell outside.

She glanced outside, wondering what could’ve happened if she had chosen differently in the past. Shaking her head at herself, she pursued her lips. No, she has definitely chosen right. Glancing down, she beamed at the fluffy bundle of a lover she had.

“I love holding you like this.”

He opened one eye.

“I love it, too.”

Had she said that out loud? She glanced away bashfully.

“Ah, embarrassed? No need to be, Isla.”

“I'm not embarrassed,” she protested. Chuckling, Asra took her hand gently feeling the smooth skin; Isla leaned down to kiss his hand.

“Where do you hide your wings, hm?” Asra asked, his eyes glimmering in amusement. Firelight was reflected within his magenta eyes, and his lips were slightly parted. As she brushed his forehead, Isla’s features revealed confusion.

“My...what?”

“Your angel wings.”

“...Asra.”

“I'm serious.” He smiled up at her face teasingly, reaching up to touch her red cheek.

“Asra, you always make me blush so much.” Isla giggled, flushing. She bit her lip, batting her eyes playfully. “Am I allowed to kiss you?”

“Mm, I don't know. You might be violating the laws of angels.”

“Perhaps you should punish me.”

Asra’s expression changed into a rare one of neediness. “Perhaps I should, Isla.” He sat up and pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her waist. Kissing her collarbone delicately, Asra gently pushed her to the floor.

Isla bit her lip; she couldn't be any happier than she was now.

Outside, the snow fell persistently everywhere - at the shop, the Palace, and even in the forest.

Whether they had spent the day indoors or outdoors, it seemed like everybody in Vesuvia was happy sharing winter memories with each other. No matter how old they would grow, no matter where they went, everybody knew this day had been unforgettable.

#the arcana game #the arcana #julian devorak #magician asra #countess nadia #count lucio #muriel #portia devorak #fan apprentice #go follow all of the blogs i mentioned literally all of them are the best #<3 #winter memories #i think i originally wanted to add layers and shit but i ended up being lol no im done XD #god this is the epitome of suFFERING #xD pls enjoy ;;

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dong-hyucks · 7 years

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Stalker ; Moonbin

Characters: Moonbin (Bin) / Reader Genre: ... stalking???, fluff???? i honestly don’t know with this one, swearing A/N: this took sooo long for me to do im sorry anonnie >< my writing got worse after the hiatus lmao (alsooo please excuse my stories alternating between ‘you’ and ‘they/she/he/[Y/N]’ i promise im sticking with this one)

Masterlist

“I’m bored,” Sanha moaned, flopping onto the couch upon entering the room. The boys, unusually quiet, looked up at him with an amused expression. You laughed as you re-entered the living room, a bowl of popcorn in your hands.

“Let’s do something then,” you said, stating the obvious. Reaching over to take a handful of popcorn, Myungjun suggested truth or dare through a mouthful.

“Seriously?” Bin said, nose scrunching up. You shrugged, leaning forward on the couch.

“Why not? Let’s play.”

Bin flushed, nodding shyly. Jinwoo noticed his friend’s sudden bashful behaviour, chuckling to himself quietly. “I’ll go first,” Minhyuk declared before stuffing his mouth with popcorn, taking a moment to indulge himself. “Dongmin,” he exclaimed after swallowing.

The said male jumped, choking on his water. “Truth or dare?” Everyone turned to stare at Dongmin in anticipation.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to do a short live of you rapping our songs,” Minhyuk said after a while.

The game continued on, with everyone doing equally embarrassing and funny dares along with exposing each other with hard truths. “Last one,” Bin mumbled, eyes closing slowly. Time had passed quickly; it being around ten o’clock when they started the seemingly harmless game, and it now being one in the morning.

“I feel like I know more about you guys than I needed to,” you chuckled sleepily, resting their head on Bin, who happened to be sat next to you. Sanha, who was quite literally on the verge of falling asleep, hummed in agreement.

“Okay,” Jinwoo started, “[Y/N]!” Like Sanha, you merely hummed in response. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you mumbled, “I’m too tired to do anything right now.” Jinwoo paused for a moment, turning to look at Bin for a second.

“Out of all of us, who is your bias and who is your bias wrecker?”

Bin suddenly felt wide awake. He looked down at you, his heart pumping wildly. Closing your eyes completely, you answered with slurred speech, Sanha’s soft snores in the background.

“Minhyuk is my bias,” Jinwoo inhaled deeply when he saw Bin’s expression drop, “and Dongmin is my bias wrecker.”

“Would you date them?” Myungjun joked, hiding his face with a pillow.

The room was almost completely silent, aside from Minhyuk and Sanha, who were snoring away. “I’m going to bed,” Bin mumbled, gently lifting you off his shoulder. Jinwoo and Myungjun watched with a frown as Bin trudged away, disappearing down the hall.

You, who seemed way too tired to respond normally, fell over on the couch. Sighing, Jinwoo walked over to their closet, draping the large blanket within over your passed out form. “Good night,” Dongmin whispered, tip-toeing down the hall after Bin. Minhyuk and Sanha, who had fallen asleep on the floor in strange positions, also got blankets from the older members.

You awoke with the sun shining down on you, surrounding you in its rays of light. Letting out a groan, you pulled the blanket over your head, curling your body into a ball. Soon, you heard someone laugh from outside the blanket barrier you had created around yourself.

“Wake up, [Y/N],” you heard Sanha giggle. You poked your head out from underneath the blanket, narrowing your eyes at the tall male.

“What time is it?”

“Three in the afternoon.” Your eyes widened as you sat up with a yawn. You noticed Jinwoo and Bin sat at the dinner table, whispering to one another. The latter made eye contact with you for a second before rolling his eyes, a scowl on his lips.

“I have to go,” you announced, pushing the blanket off of you, taking a moment to fold it neatly before placing it back on the couch. “I work tonight.”

Minhyuk and Sanha surrounded you, clinging onto your side. From across the room, you could hear Myungjun and Dongmin chuckle. “Why do you always work at night?” Dongmin asked, curious. You sighed, a slight pout forming on your lips.

“The cafe I work at is open twenty-four hours. None of my coworkers, apparently, have the capacity of staying up at night so my boss just gives me the night shifts,” you explained, slightly fed up with your coworkers.

“You work there all by yourself?” Myungjun questioned with a raised brow.

With a mere nod, you stood up, dusting imaginary dust off of your pants. “It’s okay,” you shrugged, “no one really comes into the cafe at night. Only a few tourists here and there, some students too; but school’s out so they don’t come anymore.”

You frowned as you made your way to the foyer, hearing the boys’ footsteps trailing behind you. “But there is this one customer that comes practically every other night. He’s kind of creepy.”

Unbeknownst to you, Bin looked up from his conversation with Jinwoo.

“Bye guys,” you bid after you slipped your shoes on. The boys let out a chorus of ‘bye [Y/N]’s.

As the dorm’s door closed behind you, you felt yourself frown. Aside from the boys, you quite literally had no friends. Your coworkers didn’t really like you, nor did your peers at school, which you thankfully graduated from a few months ago. It always did feel lonely when you weren’t with them.

Shaking your head, you walked over to your car and drove off.

You sighed, opting to sit down on one of the chairs. You had been working for a few hours already and only a few people had come in, only to leave minutes later. It was midnight already, and you were bored beyond relief.

“Why did he want to make this a twenty-four hour cafe,” you groaned into your hands, referring to the cafe’s owner. Taking out your phone, you opened your messages. The last message you had received was from Bin, asking you to come over the day before. He was your best friend, one you cared for in a different way from the others, but that was truly all he saw you as.

A best friend.

You noticed, this morning, that he was acting off. When he was talking with Jinwoo, he seemed sad or disappointed, perhaps even irritated with you. Which was strange, since he had a plate of food in front of him, which usually made him quite content with things.

Shaking off the feeling, you decided to message him.

Shoving your phone into your apron’s pocket, you stood up and greeted the man with a forced smile. He didn’t smile back, but instead just stared at you. Despite the fact that you saw this man at least four times a week, you’d never get used to him and his stares.

Quickly going around him to reach the counter, you asked for his order. “Just a medium black coffee,” his deep, raspy voice grumbled, placing the necessary amount of money on the counter, which you placed in the cash register. You nodded, hastily moving to the back to make his coffee.

As you waited for the coffee to brew, you glanced over your shoulder, shuddering when you made eye contact with the man. You never did see much of the man; considering he always wore a black cap with a matching face mask. That, in fact, made him that much creepier.

The coffee brewer beeped, signaling the coffee was done. Quickly placing the plastic lid over the hot liquid, you made your way back to the counter. “Here you go, sir,” you said, trying your best to stabilize your shaking voice. Instead of grabbing hold of the coffee, you flinched when the man took hold of your wrist.

Looking up at him, ready to reprimand him, you froze when he gave you a look, far different from the ones he had been giving you for the past few months.

This look was worse.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, not sounding sorry at all as his let go of you, never taking his eyes off of you. “It’s fine,” you said, your voice just under a whisper.

To you, it was not fine.

The man slowly backed away, choosing to sit down at one of the tables located in one of the corners of the cafe.

Sighing, you went to the back and tapped the counter nervously. Your eyes went to the nearby clock. 12:40. Still another five hours until your shift was over.

There was music playing throughout the cafe. It was quiet, but it was there. To calm your nerves, you went over to the stereo, turning up the volume a little. You closed your eyes trying to focus on the song’s lyrics.

I’m getting slowly closer, like a shadow, so you won’t notice.

You frowned at the song choice. You loved U-Kiss, but now really wasn’t the time.

Soon, twenty minutes had passed and you could hear a chair scrape against the tiled flooring. You let out a sigh of relief; he was finally leaving. The door sounded with a bell, indicated he had left.

Albeit slowly, the hours passed and the sun began to rise; its light slowly filling the cafe. With a yawn, you greeted two of your coworkers, whom had just arrived. “Well, I’m off.”

After hanging up your apron in the back room, you left the cafe. You nearly jumped once you exited, almost immediately making eye contact with the same man from hours before. Shaking it off as coincidence, you walked over to your car. You nearly cursed when you realize he had been standing relatively near your car.

You froze. The man had started to walk toward you, a predacious aura in his walk. “Shit,” you swore underneath your breath. Deciding to leave the car in all in order to avoid the man, you turned on your heel and quickly walked off. You hadn’t even realized that you began to walk toward the boys’ dorm.

After a few minutes of walking, you looked behind you.

Oh my God, you thought to yourself. The man was mere metres away from you and he wasn’t stopping. Facing forward you started speed walking. He wouldn’t do anything, you tried to reassure yourself, people are out. They’d see.

Taking out your phone, you text Jinwoo, asking if you could quickly come to the dorm for a bit. He didn’t answer. You sent the same text to Myungjun and Dongmin. They didn’t answer either.

After checking all of your contacts, you quickly realized that only one of your contacts were online.

Bin.

Please, please answer Bin, you begged in your head. You could hear heavy footsteps closely following you.

You turned around again, only to let out a small noise when he began to run toward you. Running as fast as you could, you searched for the dorm. You knew you were near; you had seen many of the buildings around you when you had driven to the dorm in the past. Your frazzled mind, however, didn’t have the best sense of direction.

You had no idea where you were.

You could feel tears prickling your eyes, the hair on your nape rising in fear. Despite not knowing where you were going, you kept running. You saw drivers giving you strange looks as they drove past and it was most likely that they saw the man as well.

No one stopped to help.

It felt like you had been running for hours, away from the man who had been giving you the creeps for months now. You nearly screamed when someone appeared in front of you, only to cling onto the person with quivering hands.

“Are you okay?” Bin’s voice was soothing, but you still felt terrified. You looked around. You could still see the man, as he was only a few feet away, but he had stopped running after Bin appeared. Bin’s eyes moved to the man, wearing a scowl.

“Why were you chasing them?” he asked, his normally sweet voice menacing. The man, however, didn’t answer. Bin gently moved you behind him, moving toward the man. Realizing what he might do, you quickly took hold of Bin’s hand, shaking your head.

“Let’s just go, Bin,” you whispered, your eyes glued to the ground. Bin’s frown deepened. He had never seen you so scared before, and he never wanted to see you like that again. He took your hand away from his, trying his best to not alarm you.

Turning around, his once calm expression turned dark. “Leave them alone,” he demanded, walking straight up to the man.

“And if I don’t?” You jumped upon hearing his gruff voice, closing your eyes tightly.

You heard a noise that you recognized. Opening your eyes, you gasped when you saw the man on the ground, clutching his nose. Your eyes moved to Bin, who stood above him holding his fist. You glanced around nervously, seeing girls across the street pointing. One of them held a phone up, either taking pictures or recording the incident.

“Bin,” you whispered, making eye contact with one of the girls. “We have to go.”

Bin turned to look at you, looking over where you were. When he saw the girls he lowered his head quickly. Looking down at the man, he glared. “If they ever see you around again, I’ll find out,” he spat.

Turning around, Bin gently pushed you in the right direction to their dorm. You looked back, seeing the girls whispering to each other. “They saw you, Bin,” you mumbled. “One of them had a phone and--”

“I don’t care,” Bin interrupted you.

“I’m sorry about this,” you murmured. When he didn’t answer, you bit the inside of your cheek, choosing to remain silent for the rest of the walk.

Soon, the two of you had reached the dorm. The older members were in the living room, watching TV. They turned around once Bin opened the door, and quickly crowded around you. The three could sense that you were on edge, giving you a bit of space.

“What happened?” Myungjun asked, keeping his voice low. The three wore worried expressions, looking to Bin for answers.

“They were being chased. By the guy [Y/N] mentioned yesterday,” Bin mumbled, moving to the kitchen. You frowned, thinking he was upset with you.

“Do you have your boss’s number on your phone?” Jinwoo asked. You nodded, not willing to open your mouth. You felt as though if you talked your voice would give away your immense fear. Dongmin, without a word, took your phone out of your hand. Without the device’s presence, you clutched onto the hem of your shirt tightly.

Dongmin walked off slightly. You saw him hold the phone up to his ear, “hello? I’m one of [Y/N]’s friends and they just came over from their shift...” He went on, explaining the situation.

Bin came back, holding a glass of water. “Here,” he held the glass out for you. Taking it with shaking hands you gulped down the water quickly.

“Thanks.”

Jinwoo guided you to the living room and forced you to sit down. “Good news,” Dongmin said, entering the room. He handed you your phone, “your boss is giving you a few days off and he’s giving the night shift to one of your coworkers; Seungjun I think it was.” You sighed in relief.

Soon, the boys left to give you some privacy, leaving the room empty aside from you and Bin. “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice muffled as you buried your head in your arms. “I’m sorry you guys have to deal with this.”

Ignoring your apology, Bin turned to face you. “Why didn’t you tell anyone about him before?” he asked, a sad look on his face.

You merely shrugged, playing with your hands as you looked down. “Before today, he hadn’t done anything so I thought I’d just be complaining about nothing.”

Bin sat down beside you, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your head. “You were getting stalked, [Y/N]. You wouldn’t have been complaining.” You stayed quiet, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Bin always had a distinct smell, either from his shampoo or from his cologne. You couldn’t place a finger on what it was, but it was comforting.

He rubbed your back slowly. He knew, at the end of the day, there were probably going to be some consequences. He was seen and recorded punching someone, and as an idol that can take a toll on the group’s reputation. He was also seen getting quite close to someone outside of Astro that the media didn’t know about. He could already tell he was going to get scolded by the agency.

But, truthfully, he couldn’t care less. What he did that day was for you and your safety-- it was worth it. Putting his past jealousy aside, Bin sighed. The [gender] of his dreams was in his arms right now, but the thought of confessing was far from his mind.

That was okay with him. As long as you were okay, he could wait years if he had to; he could lose popularity if he had to.

Because you are, after all, the person he loves.

highkey imagining jang mikwan as the creep oops

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s-lamberthadduck · 7 years

Text

Bear.Believe.Hope.Endure: II

“Dear Spencer and Marlene, I just want you to know that I will be praying for you. You can stay tough, Spencer, you keep fighting. I know Jesus will see you through. He gives us perfect peace as we trust Him with all of our heart...I am fighting some of the same battles with leukemia, too. So if you ever need a friend to write to, I will be here for you; especially to pray for you.”

-Your friend in Jesus,

Jenny

I was almost exactly halfway through a 6 mile run, the rain pouring down and my eyes straining to see ahead, when my body started to give up and tell me it had been through enough. Breath became suddenly thick and hard to draw. My joints would strain and erupt in pain with every pounding step. I found myself lost in the overwhelming defeat of realizing that I would be adding 20 miles to this distance come June. I knew that I could finish but I would be settling for the bare minimum and starting down a path of compromise that felt all too familiar and, frankly, frightened me. Then, in a beautiful moment of miraculous clarity, I conjured one word that carried with it the power to dispel any doubt I had in myself and in this whole process: endure. Love endures all things. I remembered the love that brought me to that exact moment of my life. Then, instead of focusing on the future, I called upon the past to remind me why I was running down this path in the cold and rain. I am loved. I love myself and I love the beautiful individuals in my life who need me to not give up when the going gets tough. Beyond the will to keep moving forward, endurance means so much more. Enduring requires a mindful acceptance of the inevitable trials and struggles to come because there is hope in the outcome of being refined. Endurance is not merely a process of hardening my senses and clenching my fists, letting nothing in or out. That will get me to the end but I won’t be changed, just battered and depleted. I think true endurance, driven by love, is opening my hands, exposing my heart, and feeling every single nerve in pain and using the struggle to motivate each step toward growth. It’s being in the moment and staying there when the lies are falling down like rain. It’s holding fast to the truth: I can do this, I will do this, I have to. I’ve spent too many years focusing on the future, worshiping ideals, then forsaking hope when things get hard. I’ve always viewed struggles as a sign of being on the wrong path instead of an assurance that the pathway to peace is laden with opportunities to practice it. Back to reality, I pushed myself to go faster on that day when I was tempted to slow my pace and shut down. 5 minutes later I broke through the wall and finished with a faster time than the week before. All that pain and doubt and fear was necessary to motivate me to achieve a higher level of discipline and physical ability.

And now here I am looking at box full of cards full of prayers full of love full of hope. How can I get through them all? Just one has brought me to my knees in an overwhelming emotion of indescribable intensity. All at once, I was indwelled with so many years of love and support I had never even contemplated before. And then I felt what I had always feared: crippling guilt. I knew this is why I had never opened the door. Just one person, just one card, was so full of selfless encouragement and I never knew. All this time, there was so much power resting in these words unread. I feel it now and I am thankful but it’s so hard not to hate myself for never looking back, for never looking out beyond myself at all the people reaching out. If I had, maybe I wouldn’t have spent so many years wondering if my life meant something. It obviously did to so many people and I’m willing to see that it probably does still now. I can also see that freaking out about getting to the end of this journey, just as I did about reaching the end of that 6 mile run, will only cheapen the value in this process of working through pain. I thought I was going to be able to cover months and months of treatment in this chapter and all of my feelings about it. Instead, I’ve really only processed about 4 days. So buckle up.

Hitting the ground-that’s all I remember. There’s nothing quite as memorable as getting the wind knocked out of you by the solid, immoveable ground after losing grip on the monkey bars. Well, that and the pain the next day. I also remember walking down the hallway in my underwear, my feet on the cold wood floor, out into the dining room where I found my father pouring over something at the table. It was either the Bible or the morning paper, as he has always read both in the morning for as long as I can remember. I complained to him about the pain and I’ll never forget the way he looked at me. He seemed burdened. I was 4, it was early, but I can still feel the presence of a great weight in the air and I’m sure there’s a reason it’s the last thing I remember for months after that.

November 12, 1992. There were a number of reasons my parents took me to the doctor that day, the primary one being chronic stomach pain. In and of itself, this isn’t usually alarming enough to run lab work on a patient’s blood but when combined with whatever else my parents told the doctor that day, it seemed prudent to look for certain underlying issues. This is the first of many instances of curious happenstance: This particular doctor, on this particular day, decided to look past the obvious and read between the lines. Not all doctors do this on all days. That evening, my parents received what they refer to as “the call”. As I look back upon the few details of this day that I know, I can only imagine taking my daughter, who is now the same age as I was during this time, to the doctor because something “just wasn’t right”. As a parent, I’ve had that fear many times. I’ve been overcome by the potential malignant collusion of symptoms into something much more insidious than exhaustion and growing pains. As a cancer survivor there’s a spark of fear in every physical ailment those you love experience, especially your children. And I think I’ve spent a great deal of my life in crippling fear of common ailments because cancer ruined the bliss of ignorance. I know it always could be right there. It most likely isn’t, but cancer also ruins the innocence of chance.

November 13, 1992. The second curious happenstance of note is that my parents were able to find AND get an appointment with a pediatric oncologist in Portland within 24 hours of contact. I’ve gathered that was quite unheard of at the time. From what I understand this doctor, my doctor, took a special interest in me from the beginning and respected the urgency of my situation from day one. Doctors caring seems to be a common occurrence in this unfolding story and that significance is not lost on me. The purpose of seeing her was to confirm the suspicions of our family doctor based on the lab work he had run. The previous day my bloodwork indicated the presence of roughly 3500 blasts, or “bad” white blood cells. I’m still fuzzy on what’s normal but that level was well above alarming. One thing I recently realized is that the “Acute” part of Acute Lymphoblastic Lymphoma doesn’t just mean “bad”. I’ve always thought of “Acute” as intense or pervasive. “Acute” in my case meant rapid and aggressive. The day of this particular visit with the oncologist, my blast count had doubled to 7000. Apparently, this was on a friday and my doctor said to come in first thing monday to start treatment of Leukemia. The third curious happenstance was that my parents wouldn’t settle for that. They had all the reasons in the world to hesitate. My doctor had recommended what she saw as the most immediate and vital approach to the situation. Within 24 hours their worlds had been turned upside down and most people would take a moment, maybe even one day, to wrap their heads around the reality of sudden chronic illness. But, something in them won over all that chaos. Something prevailed over fear that day. My mother insisted that I be admitted as soon as possible, and I can only imagine the fervor which she made such a demand.

November 14,1992. I can only imagine what it must have been like for my parents to have their 4 year old child admitted to the hospital for treatment of Leukemia only 48 hours after discovering its presence in my blood. I remember nothing of this time. I received a blood transfusion. They started doing X-Rays and EKGs of my chest. Im sure it was a whirlwind of confusing chaos and if it was anything like the trauma I’ve experienced in my own adult life, I’d be willing to bet the dominant sensation was numbness. My blast count had again doubled to 14000. I was rapidly entering the “Induction” phase of treatment and I was being prepped to receive chemo the next day. I was about to be thrust into a struggle I had no choice in entering and had no idea what it held in store.

November 15, 1992. This is the day I started Chemotherapy. For the longest time, an embarrassing amount of time actually, I thought Chemotherapy was itself a drug. I thought Chemo was its own thing, just one thing, that killed all the bad things. 21 years later, I now know that Chemotherapy is an approach of using multiple drugs in combination to eradicate every single cancerous blast cell so that it can no further propagate and spread. This is why they resorted to injecting it into my spine and transplanting bone marrow. I’ve also learned that Chemo, to this day, is a really blunt tool and is by no means precise. It’s shocking, actually, to learn that every day is a judgement call as to whether the drugs are doing more harm than good. I came across this amazing article from 1995 by Linda Ellerbee who had gone through breast cancer. Its title? “When all the choices are unpleasant” In it she writes “It’s just so frustrating. Part of me is very angry we know so little about cancer that we must give people such large doses of what is basically poison in order to try to stop this disease. On one level (call it the logic level), it seems to make no sense. However, reality is this: Had I known about the possible heart damage from chemotherapy, I would still have chosen the chemo, and, knowing about the possible harmful effects of tamoxifen, I shall still take tamoxifen. At this time, the chemo and tamoxifen are the best chances I have for continuing to live. These are the choices people with cancer must make. Hard choices, Sometimes we choose wrong. In the end, we all agree: Treating a disease (cancer) by cutting you (surgery), poisoning you (chemotherapy) or burning you (radiation) seems, at best, horribly barbaric. Only good thing is, sometimes it works.” Sometimes it works. By now, you might be wondering why I was keeping track of my blast counts throughout the 4 days of diagnosis and the beginning of treatment. On the day I started Chemo, my counts were at 20000. I’m told children die at 40000. Had my parents waited until Monday to start treatment, it almost certainly would have been too late.

All my life, I’ve been drawn to ask “why?”. I feel like I’ve been given the drive to look for meaning when others don’t for a reason. That’s part of what I’m discovering during this process. To me, the substance that comes to the surface when I dig into the darkness of my past is the unrefined “why?”. Why did my doctor decide to run a blood test instead of blow it off or delay the pursuit of answers as I’ve heard countless stories of doctors doing? Why were my parents able to find a doctor so quick that cared so much? Why decide to insist on expediting treatment? Why was I spared from the brink of death just one day before my blood was irreversibly overcome with cancerous cells? Why did Jenny, my friend in Jesus, “lose” her battle with Leukemia and I “won”?

I don’t have the answers and I’m not ready to find them yet. I do know that that I’ve already been changed in the process of asking and seeking. I do know that I will persist in running into darkness, through the rain, in pursuit of truth. Thank you for sticking with me in all of this. I know it’s messy, but the truth often is, or at least the process of finding it.

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