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#sorry to all the older fans who go into the hashtag
captainmvf · 26 days
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I think I'm one of the three people on Twitter Dot Com that posts Stex fanart at least once a month hello-
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haikyu-mp4 · 11 days
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Media presence, part 3
word count; 1526 – gn!reader, final part of the mini series
go read part 1 and part 2 first for the best experience
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You were tapping your foot under the desk like a bunny, lips pursed as you tried to choose who to talk to first. Your eyes settled on Hinata. “Sweetie,” you started, and he nodded eagerly as if he awaited praise. “You don’t have to do everything Atsumu and Bokuto do.”
Hinata visibly deflated, but puffed out his chest to put on a brave front. “Yes, boss,” he said, and it brought forth a small smile because you did like it when they called you that.
“Imagine how much you could have earned if Calvin Klein was the one asking you to do it. Now it’s just out there for everyone.” you kept saying, visibly frustrated. Once again, Sakusa was thankful that you couldn’t see the smile behind his mask as he watched you from the side.
You turned your attention to Bokuto and Atsumu, who were so perfectly placed in the middle of the four, both wearing very guilty smiles.
“It’s not about posting thirst traps, obviously hot guys draw attention,” you said and just missed the way Sakusa’s nose scrunched. You gritted your teeth, breathing through them as you stared at the angry message from one of your bosses that was open on your computer screen. “It’s the fact that Black Jackals has taken in four younger players and three of them are doing a flexing competition on social media like they’re 17 years old,” you said, definitely rambling at this point.
Did I forget to explain what happened? If it’s not obvious already, all three of your problem children posted shirtless thirst traps on their stories last weekend and hashtagged it with HottestMSBYJackal, and then Atsumu posted another one with a poll on it so people could vote between the three. While they gained a lot of younger followers from the stunt, your bosses were not happy as older fans of the team found them to be way too vain and busy with their bodies, and not focused enough on the sport or whatever. What you felt about it was irrelevant. Caring about what everyone else thought about them was your job.
Bokuto pouted and nodded, not understanding what he did wrong but still not liking your tone. “Sorry, boss.”
“I’m letting you off with a warning, just please think twice before posting stuff. Be normal,” you begged them, shooing your hand as a hint for them to wrap up the meeting.
Atsumu must have put some extra audacity in his smoothie this morning because he seemed to let the whole thing fall off his shoulders when you said they just got a warning. “I need to ask you something first, it’s important.”
“Let’s just go,” Sakusa said. He was trying to herd them outside without touching them, which always proved equally difficult. Perhaps he had an inkling about his teammate’s question.
“Which one would you vote for?” Atsumu asked, a toothy grin growing on his face that usually did great for advertisement. You sighed. They probably expected you not to answer.
“Sakusa,” you said, which made all three start yelling for different reasons. He was your favourite today after not participating, knowing that if he tried to stop them it wouldn’t have worked anyway. You covered your ears, regretting answering immediately.
“Quiet down, this isn’t a playground! Let’s go.” Sakusa commanded, this time with a sternness that made the others kick into gear.
“Keep your shirts on, thank you.” They were all on their way out, Bokuto and Atsumu hanging with their heads like wounded puppies who startled once you spoke again. “Not you, Sakusa.”
“Not keep my shirt on, or?” he asked, that Atsumu-coded smirk ringing from his voice.
“Don’t test me, sit back down,” you said, and he shrugged before following your orders. The other jackals had turned around and were looking between you two curiously until Sakusa closed the door in their faces. He sat down and excused them for being so loud, which you brushed off.
The bosses had instructed you to scold all of them, even though you insisted Sakusa was not part of it. Those old men only saw how everyone referred to the MSBY four online.
Honestly, you had no idea why you asked him to stay, so you had to pull something out of your ass real quick. Your mind was racing with all the things you had to do because even though this wasn’t the biggest scandal, it still came on top of everything you usually did. So instead of lying, you rested your head in your hands for a second. “I’m not sure why I asked you to come back inside.” It wasn’t some grand confession, but just that made it feel like a tiny butterfly was fluttering its wings in Sakusa’s belly. He was so pleased that he wasn’t sure what to say, choosing instead to scoot his chair closer to the desk and wait for you to unbury your face again. You eventually did, resting your chin on your hand instead. “Did you think about my suggestion yet?”
“Yes.”
You smiled, nodding your head as he once again gave you one-word answers. Feeling like there was too little air in the room now, you went to open the window. That might soothe your headache. “Once again, the quality of your answers rock my world,” you said sarcastically.
Sakusa hesitated for a moment before speaking up again. “You do a great job,” he said just as you sat back down. For what felt like the first time that day, you really let your eyes settle on him. His hair was a little extra nice that day, in your opinion. You liked it when it was more messy, not picture perfect. Behind the hair, you could still see how his eyebrows were drawn together. More than usual, you’d say.
If you were honest, you would have told him you didn’t always feel like you did great. That you felt like it was so difficult to understand who you were supposed to cater to when everyone had a different opinion and kept expecting you to bounce back every time you met a new challenge. Because you were so good at your job, that came with expectations.
However, your relationship with Sakusa wasn’t like that, so instead your eyes teared up a bit and you whispered a weak “Thank you”.
He nodded but desperately wished you were close enough that he could ask you to tell him everything. To rest your head on his shoulder and hug you until the pain went away. But he knew he had to go back to practice any minute now, and you two would stay an unspoken thing.
You might have only started looking at him now, but he had practically been staring at you since the second he and his teammates came into that office. “I’m sure those idiots will charm everyone with time,” he said, an added assurance he didn’t usually give anyone else. “I’ve seen Bokuto practising his Bokuto Beam, lately.”
“You’re right,” you said. The Bokuto reference did make you laugh and quickly wipe at one eye where a tear threatened to fall from the pressure. It had been a long day. “I’m just glad you didn’t join them, imagine you finally started posting and I had to yell at you.” Sure, you would love a shirtless photo of Sakusa, but your job came first.
“Mm.” He cringed at the thought, hands stuffed in the pockets of his training jacket. After a beat of silence, Sakusa’s frown slowly loosened up. He was glad he could make you laugh a bit, that wasn’t usually his strong suit. “Anything else?”
“No, you can go,” you sighed. “They need you.” He nodded and silently got up, wondering if he should say something more. But he didn’t, he just left. It left you staring at the door, sighing deeply as you realised your predicament. You felt something special for Sakusa Kiyoomi.
As Sakusa got home and settled into his sofa after he was freshly showered, he unlocked his phone and opened messages. He wrote a message, deleted it, and then repeated this a few more times before switching to Instagram. There, he opened the story camera and angled it to show a small part of his pristine living room where the last lick of the sun was shining across the floor. Imagine you finally started posting, were the words that rang in his ears.
The picture he took was nice enough, and he added “Good evening.” in white before spending a while choosing the font he liked. He even added a calm song he heard the other day and grew to like.
After it was posted, the likes flooded in, but he turned on silent mode and switched back to messages. He wondered if seeing the story would make you do another victory dance. Once again, he opened your contact and wrote, deciding to finally send it.
What are you doing for lunch tomorrow?
You: Probably eat
Sakusa rolled his eyes yet smiled affectionately. Eat with me.
You: Okay:)
You: I look forward to it
No more 'unspoken thing'.
part 1 ║ part 2 ║ part 3 (final part) ║ masterlist
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margotwhites · 2 months
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Jason Todd x Singer reader (fem)
Author's note: I posted about this idea SUCH a long time ago. But it never really vanished from my mind, thankfully. Also, this is just a preview. If you guys like it, I can rewrite it and add more chapters.
Warnings: Terrible writting probably (I'll fix it later) also english is not my first language so sorry about any mistakes
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Dick Grayson was laughing too damn hard. And he was looking at Jason. Which, obviously, made Jason worry. It's always like that with Dick. He starts to laugh like a maniac suddenly, and the reason always turns out to be something bad.
"What is it this time?" Jason asks, feeling already tired of this bullshit. It all got worse when Stephanie bursts into one of the TV rooms of the Manor, laughing just as much as his older brother. And also looking at Jason. He frowns.
"Check out twitter! Or X. What a terrible name, X." Stephanie says, suddenly contemplative. Jason ignores it and grabs his phone inside his pocket, going straight up to the trending topics. It wouldn't be the first time his persona, Red Hood, appeared on them. Or hell, even his actual name. Being a child of Bruce Wayne was just as bad.
Right on the first trending topic.
#RED HOOD'S NEW GIRLFRIEND
The second trending topic was a ship of his persona with a name he never heard of before. He sighs and looks back at Dick, that has an amusing grin on his face.
"Who is this chick?" He asks, clicking on the ship hashtag and scrolling through the tweets.
"You don't know her? She's like, ultra famous." Steph says, arching a blond brow. "I love her. She's super funny and-"
"I don't care. Why are people shipping me with her?" Jason asks, not finding this as funny as his siblings.
Dick laughs again and turns the TV on, putting a video from his cellphone on the large screen. The video is five minutes long. It was an interview of the singer at the Kurt's show, a famous journalist.
"So, I heard the repercussions of your last album were nothing but great. How does it feel to ascend on your career that fastly?" Kurt asked.
"It's great, Kurt. It makes me feel a little nervous. There is a lot of pressure and expectations from my fans, but I'm happy to do my best to satisfy them."
Jason notices the woman is young and well, gorgeous. She wears a black dress and a collar full of diamonds, her hair done perfectly.
"I heard you're a huge fun of... vigilantes. Is that truth?" Kurt asked once more, leaning closer to the woman. She giggles.
"What can I say? I guess they have a lot of fans, and that includes me." She answers. She has a polite smile on her face.
"Tell me, do you have any favorite?" She chuckles at that, the smile never fading. She was clearly having fun talking about this.
"I do! I'm a big fan of Red Hood." She says. Kurt's eyes go wide.
"That's an interesting choice. Why's that?"
"I like how he completes his job and actually ends the bad guys he deal with." She says. It's a bold statement to be done in public, even more considering she's famous. She doesn't seem to care.
"If you could say anything to him, what would you say?"
"I'd ask him to take me to a ride on his bike. Oh, and to get some hobbies out of the vigilantism stuff. I think he needs it. Also, maybe get a girlfriend. It also seems like he needs it."
And then the video ends. Dick and Steph are laughing loudly, and Jason just stares at the television. Get hobbies? Get a girlfriend?
He can hardly believe his ears. But at the same time, it is quite amusing. He goes back to reading the tweets in the hashtag.
Omgggg they'd make such a cute couple!
I'd let both of them punch my face
He can't help but laugh at some the tweets. People don't seem to hate him like the other times he was a trending topic. But it was a bit irritating that he was being shipped with a singer he knows nothing about. But that's just how internet works, anyway.
This can't become much of a problem for him, really. It's just a stupid ship. Nothing too serious. Nothing serious, at all.
Little did he know.
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lazaruspiss · 9 months
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i would actually love some nightwing recs from you
Aha! You activated my trap card <-(completely forgot how public they are with their nightwing obsession) (ps: i also talked nightwing recs here too <3 i simply love to talk about my baby boy)
My "area of expertise" is mainly Nightwing 1996, so that's where most of my recs come from. There was also Nightwing 1995, which was more of a test run for 96. I think it had 4 issues total? It's not bad, just not noteworthy either. I've been working on a big spreadsheet of info for 96, including trigger warnings, but im only like. 15 issues in. hashtag pain and suffering. Issue #1 already has a woman being threatened, I have it down as "attempted rape" in my list, and that kind of sets the tone for what you need to be able to handle to read everything in that series.
The biggest downside is that it's all pre Damian :( son boy i miss u and i wish u were in better comics. Tim is funny tho. The first arc in 96 is great scene setting, and Tim shows up in #6 to be a lil stinker :3. We establish Dick's goals, motivations, etc, as well as what the state of Blüdhaven is and who our main baddies are.
It's all a bit heartbreaking in retrospect. Dick fails. He wants to be more independent and remove himself from Bruce's shadow, Blockbuster is established as the big bad for him to bring to justice, and he wants to make things at least a little better for the people of Blüdhaven.
He ends up dragged back to Bruce by an invisible leash, he technically beats his main villain but only in the absolute worst way after losing everything (and continues to lose more after, losing things he didn't know he had), and Blüdhaven is destroyed.
Dick loses. It's a bad end. A tragedy even. And yet, because of the nature of comics like DC, his story continues. It continues in crossovers and fan service and whatever else might sell. His most personally meaningful story ended prematurely for fucking War Games. sorry I know I just complained about this but cmon.
There were some good storylines after that! But I'm still bothered by the fact that the Tarantula arc was cut off after like, 2 issues. Road to Nowhere (#94-95) really did go nowhere. But the concept was there and it had the potential to be a decent story about an abusive relationship.
Mobbed Up (#108-111), Renegade (#112-117), and Brothers in Blood (#118-122) are some of my favorite arcs, all post Blockbuster. But after those I kind of lost interest. Annual #2 also came out sometime after all those, and I can't stress enough that it is absolutely not worth reading. It was written an illustrated by men, reduces Babs and Kori to nothing more than romantic partners, and completely misrepresents older stories. They literally retell older Dick/Babs moments, but without anything that could make their relationship at all complex or questionable to the consumer. Dick saw her as a sister, but rather than use that as a sign of closeness and respect they cut out all reference to that entirely because god forbid relationships have any nuance nowadays. Annual #1 was alright. I think it came out in the first or second year of the 96 run, and it's a nice self contained murder mystery one shot that showcases Dick's workaholic habits, his want for a family, and his tendency to try and change himself to makes others happy. He also comes off as very accidentally arospec. There's a moment where he tries to get a woman to stay with him by saying things like "but I could learn to love you" and if that wasn't me everyday throughout my middle to high school years than I don't know what is.
Outside of 96, I wanna point out The Search for Ray Palmer: Red Rain. Which may not be a Nightwing story but is absolutely a Bruce & Dick story (with vampires!) I haven't actually read much of the original Red Rain because. Dick's not really in that one. The Ray Palmer spin off however has Dick hunting down his parents' killer: one vampire king, Bruce Wayne. If you find those posts about Dick initially being a vengeance hungry 8 year old interesting than this is about as close as actual comics get. In the main timeline, yeah, Dick wants revenge, but because he's 8 and really just going through it rather than being genuinely bloodthirsty he's very easily talked out of it. In the Red Rain universe there is no comfort. He's alone, and grief consumes him. Bruce killed his parents for that very purpose, because he wanted Dick to be consumed by grief and hopelessness like him. Getting Dick to be like him and getting Dick to be obsessed with him was kind of his entire goal from the moment he laid eyes on him. Bruce's main presence up until the end where he shows up is shown largely through Dick's hunt, through Dick's obsession. Bruce wanted them to be inseparable and he very much succeeded in the end. By the time Jason and crew cross paths with them it's already too late. Everything is as Bruce wanted it to be. So a yandere vampire brudick au, basically.
There's also Outsiders 2003, which I keep meaning to read but haven't quite gotten to. Dick leads another team, but Donna just died so he's even meaner and cagier than he usually is.
gah. i really wanna finish that nightwing spreadsheet. i'll probably post it once i finish the 1996 section, or at least get it caught up to where it stops before crossing over with war games.
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i've made a lot of these but theyre just things that i eventually wanna read, the dick grayson one is really the only one with anything in it rn <-(one track mind. and that track is called blorbo)
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ko11ok · 10 months
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Just wanna say ty for being some of the chosen Kollok people that carried the hashtag and are still around
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hahaha yeah ofc!!
honestly i still need to like. actually finish series 2 (cannot call it kollok because kollok 1991 is always just kollok in my heart) i got maybe three episodes in because personally I wasn't enjoying the direction they went with it. i think it would've been better as an independent series, it just didn't have the heart and soul kollok 1991 had.
okay. i was like. i don't need to go on a rant....but i want to >:)
one of the things I liked about kollok 1991 was how messy it was, it was messy and fun and dark at the same time, there was a lot of cool stuff about it, and it felt like watching someone's beloved homegame with their unhinged dm, where not everything got wrapped up neatly and you never quite knew what was going to happen next.
the second series felt to clean to me, everything was put together, very streamline, very neat. it didn't have the edges or the humor 1991 had that was integral to [of course], my personal enjoyment of it. i feel like the ascended in general felt flat to me as well, like they were trying so hard to get us invested and interested in them that they wrapped back around to myself feeling like i didn't know them at all.
i think they tried really hard to do a little bit of everything, trying to let old fans see the legacy cast and their story, bring in a new audience with the ascended and the new story. it just all felt like? too much? like by catering to everyone and anyone they catered to no one. I remember zac saying that he wanted the second series to be something that anyone who'd never heard of kollok before could pick up and start watching, but to me that was so incredibly flawed. 1991 by its nature is a complex story, even if you created something new in the universe, the deeper lore and characters are still there, especially with how it was written.
my only pet peeve with zac's gaming style is that it's clear he almost always bites off more than he can chew, and when he needs to reconcile what he's bitten off, he almost always just spits it out (retcons) rather than just tries to swallow it (improvise, shift). he has extremely rich backstories and background written, and he likes to drop hints and ideas, but he never reveals any answers that are truly satisfying. (which maybe I missed because i didn't watch the second series). he likes to tease his audience, but never truly satisfy, in my opinion the most satisfying moments almost always came from the players.
imo legacy and the ascended should've been two different shows. they could've had the same format, they even could've existed in the same universe! [BIG BIG, "this is coming from someone who watched only like the first few episodes"], they could've just broken them up into separate shows at separate times. they could've given the old fans a satisfying ending, and given the new fans something to chew on with the ascended.
in my like. dream scenario, legacy's timeline instead takes place in 2002. (i've mentioned how i think a "kollok 2002" would be really cool, another palindrome year, most of the cast would be 11 years older, and in their late twenties/early thirties) they could still have mallory having gone into the black rock, tibby wracked with guilt, and the others sort of far flung. i think they could've pulled the same stuff and gotten a good result!! they could've even kept the timeline!! the ascended would rebel shortly after, the could've even done a series about that, which would've felt very similar, and ended where the show eventually got to, with the disillusioned ascended trying to figure out what the fuck they were going to do
idk! just my ten cents on it. sorry for taking your message and doing a lil rant lmao hope you don't mind
maybe i should do a sweet kollok rewatch in the future soon....like 1991 is pretty long but maybe i could swing it again >:)
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kyunsies · 2 years
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WAAAAH i just realized i never responded 😭😭 i’m sorry. i too wish i had know about kpop in high school, i was very much into 1D and bieber 🙃 i transitioned from CNCO and reggaeton to kpop….that was a ride going from spanish to korean 😂 but anyway i agree about 3rd gen music being so timeless, i do love it very much.
about 4th gen they really are getting younger and younger. every time i see their ages i audibly gasp, they’re younger than my sister (she’s 03). i personally think they shouldn’t be debuting any younger than 19 but i’m considered ancient to kpop stans so who am i to have an opinion lol but i keep thinking of all the discourse over shohei, the new sm rookie and ppl complaining about him being 96 line. personally I AM ALL for him debuting!
anyway i do hope ppl migrate back to tumbly bc twt is so ehhhh. i mean i use it a lot but i barely follow anyone except the groups i stan. though it would be nice to have more moots lol but only good ones
HI AGAIN LINA !!!! i hope u have been doing well these past few weeks we didn't talk!!! ITS TOTALLY OKAY !!!! i've been a bit busy so absolutely no worries, you just take your time <3 but LSDKFJ STOP i was such a hard core directioner in high school it's not even funny ;____; listened to all their albums kept up w everything they did all that jazz lsdkfj :') but ooooooh spanish music too!!! that's cool that you have experienced a lot of fandoms tho skldfjs it's always interesting :) and YEAH i don't want to sound stuck in my ways all the time and ofc i think there is talent all over the place, 3rd gen will always just have a special place in my heart <3
and yes 4th gen just keeps on getting younger and younger and like, i do think that it's cool that ppl are recognizing talent at a young age! but i agree with you in that there has to be some sort of system behind this stuff lol like, i think i've heard somewhere that nct has some new SM rookies and one of them is a 98 liner or something (which is my age lmao) and like !!! fans are getting mad that this is considered 'old' like,,,,,,,how messed up is that?? sorry i don't think children should be exposed to the crippling industry that is entertainment where you are basically being stripped from your core under the eyes of millions of ppl SLDKFJ ;____; i'm sure i'm considered ancient for kpop fans standards (i turn 24 this december hhh) but it's literally crazy how the younger generation has such a warped idea of what is "old" and in kpop it's no different,,,,, like did anyone give other ppl crap for liking one direction at literally any stage of life ?? i don't think so !!!! i am ranting at this point i am SORRY SLDFKJ but i just think it's getting really toxic that so many younger fans are putting like, an "age limit" on how to enjoy things that genuinely make us happy and that the younger you debut is the better when it's like no you need to become a resilient older individual i think !!! AND THOSE ARE MY THOUGHTS LOL i completely agree w you lina !!!!!
and PLS DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THATTT after wonho left there was such a huge migration from monbebe tumblr to twt because of hashtagging and stuff but i was surprised mbb never migrated back here :( tumblr although is a hellsite LMAO gives you much more creative freedom not to mention the algorithm just makes SENSE. i hate twt besides being updated on stuff as well kdsjf <3
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marvelous-harry · 3 years
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Brother H - h n sister are out just walking round some town while on her tour visit , fans finding them and swarming , some being rude to her bc they assume she’s just ignoring them by not responding, harry telling them straight? X
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California Walks Older brother Harry - Mute!Fem!Reader Words: 1.7K Summary: You and Harry are having a lovely little stroll around town until you bump into some not-so-friendly fans.
#words typed in between hashtag signs means it's signs/ in makaton or her text to talk app#
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"Smile!" Harry instructed as he turned his phone sideways and crouched down.
Gesturing at my mask, I just gave him a strange look.
"Smile with your eyes!" Harry grinned. "Imagine you're with the best brother in the world, you're seeing the sights, you're..."
#when he coming?# I signed before looking around.
"Who?" Harry asked confused, still taking pictures.
#Best brother. When he coming?# I asked.
Harry put his phone down and stared at me blankly. "Right, that's it," he said before taking off running straight for me.
Letting out a shriek of fear, I took off running as well as quickly as I could down the little side street we had been on that only had a few people on it. It didn't take long for him to catch up with me though and he dug his fingers into my sides and started tickling me.
Giggling as I tried to push his hands off me, I stiffened as I heard a gasp.
Immediately noticing the change, Harry stopped tickling me and looked around. A girl holding a Love on Tour tote bag and wearing a tour t-shirt was staring right at us.
"Oh my god!" She said and quickly tapped her closest friend on the shoulder. "Hi! Oh my god, it's actually you!" she said excitedly.
I looked down at the ground and just hoped this would be a quick little chat.
Harry gave them a little wave. "Hi," he said. "I'm sorry, I can't do any photos. Are you guys coming to the show?" he asked.
Everyone in the group nodded and started speaking.
"Is that Harry Styles?" someone to the side of me asked. Taking a little step back, I glanced at them quickly before going back to staring at the ground.
"It is! And his sister! Y/N! Hi!" They said excitedly as they moved closer.
Harry gave the new group a little wave as well.
"A bunch of us are going to be in section 222, it's our first concert with you so we're so excited!" The girl who had first spotted us said.
"Oh, that's so cool. I hope you'll enjoy the show. What are your names?" Harry asked.
"I'm Isla, this is Katie, Josh, Trevor, Emily, Kathy, and Georgia!" Isla smiled as she introduced everyone.
"We're Leah and Amber. We're also coming to the show, we have pit tickets," Leah spoke up.
Harry looked over, nodded, and was about to speak.
"Can we have a picture?" she asked, already raising her phone.
"I can't, I'm sorry. We were just leaving," He said and glanced back at me.
"Just a quick one, please! Or could you guys say happy birthday to our other friend? She's turning 23 in a few days," Leah asked and hitting record.
I stuffed my hands into the front pocket of my hoodie and pressed my nails harshly into my skin as I tried to keep breathing properly.
"Happy 23rd birthday," Harry said shortly and did a little wave before looking around.
"Y/N? You too! We love you so much!" Leah grinned and aimed the camera at me.
Digging my nails harder in, I opened my mouth and tried my best to say anything at all but nothing came out and I could feel myself heating up as I blushed hard.
"She has selective mutism, you should know that if you love her so much," Isla spoke up while scoffing.
"Yeah, selective. She can just choose to speak," Leah rolled her eyes but put her phone down.
"Okay. That's not how it works, we're leaving now. Isla, everyone. Hope you guys enjoy the show," Harry said while looking just at their friend group as he put his hand around my waist and started leading me across the street.
"Nu-uh. You're not following them," Isla said as she and her group of friends stepped in front of Leah and Amber.
Harry looked back and made sure they weren't following us before stopping a taxi. "You alright?" he asked as he opened the door for me.
Getting in, I sat down and stared down at my legs as I could feel the tears in my eyes welling over and running down my cheeks.
Harry told the taxi driver the name of the hotel before rubbing my arm. "Talk to me, how you feeling?" he asked concerned before muttering under his breath. "A bit rude that one,"
I whimpered before quickly holding my breath so I wouldn't cry.
"You've got to breathe, okay?" Harry said quietly as he unhooked my mask, letting it hang from one ear. "Oh, kiddo, your lip's bleeding. Were you biting on it?" Harry reached into his pockets and grabbed a tissue from the little pack he had on him before pressing it down on my lip.
Taking a shaky breath, I pulled my hands out from the front pocket and grabbed onto the tissue myself.
Harry looked at my hand and gave me a sad smile before grasping it gently and stroked his fingers over the nail marks on the inside of my hand.
#sorry# I signed and sniffled as I felt tears run down my cheek.
"You don't have to be sorry. That girl wasn't very nice, you're allowed to be upset," he said as he wiped away some of the tears before hooking my mask back up. "Let's go inside and get you cleaned up,"
Glancing up, I saw we were at the hotel. I reached for my bag but Harry already had his card out and was paying before I'd even gotten to my wallet.
Once we'd stepped out of the taxi, Harry slung his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close.
Sighing, I put my hand around his waist. #Nap# I signed as we headed to the elevators.
"I'll bring my computer into your room and get some work done while you sleep okay?" Harry suggested as we headed upstairs.
#Don't need to# I signed and pulled away. #Go. Have fun# I told him.
"I know I don't need to. I want to plus I need to do some work so I'd rather sit next to you than sit in my room all alone," Harry replied as we arrived at our floor.
#Okay# I took off my mask and grabbed the room key and opened the door before handing it over to Harry.
"I'll be right back," he smiled as he took the key and walked to his room while I walk inside. Kicking off my shoes, I pulled back the blankets on the bed and got comfortable. Closing my eyes, I quickly fell asleep.
-
"Oh my god!! I'm so excited! I can't believe this is happening We're actually going to be seeing him live!" Isla said excitedly as the line started moving, everyone holding their ticket in their hand, along with their vaccination cards and negative test results.
"Still can't believe we ran into him and y/n! I'll never forget the sound of them both giggling - sounded like angels" Emily said as she glanced at the queue ahead.
"God, I know right?" Josh agreed.
Isla stepped forward and showed her ticket. The security man scanned her ticket before looking at his device as it beeped. "I'm sorry, your ticket has been flagged. Could you step aside please?" he said and waved someone over.
"Wait what?" Isla asked shocked. "I bought it from Ticketmaster so it can't be fake. I bought everyone's tickets," she said as she looked at the guy coming over before glancing worriedly back at her friends.
The security guard showed the other man his scanner. "It's flagged her ticket. Well her purchase is flagged which is for seven tickets it says,"
The man took her ticket and looked it over. "Isla Valentine is you? Do you have an ID?" he asked.
"Yeah," Isla replied as she got out her ID and showed it to them. "Wonderful, thank you. And who are the other people you bought tickets for?"
"These six," Isla pointed at everyone.
"Great! If you could just follow me, please" the man said and started walking.
"Emmm okay," Isla answered and grabbed onto Emily's hand. "Sir, what's going on? Was there something wrong with the tickets?"
"No, nothing wrong. They've just been upgraded," the man smiled and pushed the button for the elevator.
"Upgraded? I didn't pay for that," Isla said confused as they all got in.
"Oh, Mr. Styles requested it," the man replied.
"Excuse me?" Isla stuttered out.
"Ahh, here we are," the man said as the elevator stopped moving. He stepped outside and headed down the hallway before stopping outside a door. "This is your private suite for the show," he unlocked the door.
"Oh my god," Isla whispered as they stepped inside.
"This is Eddie and Brett. They'll be your bartender and waiter for the night. This is for you," the man pulled out a note from his suit pocket and handed it over.
Isla took the note and opened it as everyone huddled around her.
"Nov 2021. Dearest Isla and her friends! I hope you'll enjoy the show. Please help yourself to drinks and food, it'll be my treat. Thank you for having my back and being a good friend. <3 Love H xxx"
"This is not fucking happening!" Emily gasped before letting out an excited squeal.
-
Harry held his hand above his eyes to shield them from the bright lights before grinning and waving as he finally spotted them. He brought the microphone up to his mouth. "My friends! There's my friends!" he said and waved again.
"Are you enjoying the show?" he asked and grinned as he saw Isla and everyone waving and screaming while nodding their heads.
"Yes!" He cheered as he celebratory air punch. "They're enjoying the show!" he glanced over at y/n before looking back at them.
"Wonderful. Treat people with kindness and all that. Thank you," he said and blew them a kiss and a thumbs up before signaling for the next song. As the intro for Treat People with Kindness started he raised his hands and started dancing while glancing over at y/n again, grinning as he saw she was swaying a little too.
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Heart by Heart | Chapter III | Raul Mendes
                                               *secret agent AU*
Y/N and Raul have been friends ever since they could remember. And falling in love with your best friend can be pretty tricky and messy 99% of the times, add that to the fact they're constantly risking their lives side by side on the field since they're both secret agents, and the best team that's ever existed. Perfect recipe for disaster.
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Hi, this is the third chapter of this series, you can find the first one here. Please read the warnings on this one, if you don't feel comfortable with the contents listed on the "warnings" section, please read something else, there are a lot of other works on my masterlist and on the "fic rec" hashtag on my blog. Please give me some feedback and I hope you guys like. Happy Reading!
                                 previous chapter | masterpost | next chapter
*Word Count: 4.1K+
*Warnings: cursing, probably wrong tips about physical fighting (I'm sorry, I know shit about it!),  therefore mentions of physical fight (only training though), jealousy if you squint.  
Please don’t read it if any of this subjects make you uncomfortable, feel free to check my masterlist for other writings. 
*Posted: July 15th, 2021.
                                                   -*-
Y/N wishes she could punch Raul’s perfectly aligned teeth and annoying smirk away. 
Ever since their mission was announced a couple of days ago, Raul made her work out hard, harder than she’s been doing for a while. It’s not like she was in a bad shape, she couldn’t exactly avoid training being constantly sent on field missions. But since she normally stood on a far safe distance, she didn’t need to run 10 miles everyday on the treadmill or on the streets -which was her best friend’s preferred spot since the terrain was irregular and they had to be alert every single minute so they don’t end up being hit by a car. And that’s precisely what he made her do. 
They had to be at work at 8:00 a.m. every day, so Raul picked her up at 5:30 so they could have breakfast before their run, she’d then curse him on the way back to her apartment so they could get ready. He would only laugh at her, promising it would be worth it. Then they’d go into a meeting to discuss final details with the people they picked to form their team. After a long meeting arranging mostly details and cover up stories, they’d go to lunch, only to come back and train using the new gear, shooting and physical fight. The group had to be ready to face pretty much everything imaginable, the risk of this mission was like no other Y/N could remember, so they had to be the best of the best. 
So yeah, maybe Raul was just being careful, but she was sure he was only finding new ways to torture her. 
That’s why the team consisted on Raul as the captain, or co-captain as she liked to tease, and Y/N as the responsible for the strategy. There was Jack who was picked to be Raul’s right hand on the field, he was an experienced agent and has worked with him on many occasions, meaning their chemistry on the field was great. He was a huge, strong man with the sweetest and kindest heart, always laughing out loud and making jokes around. Then there was Celine. Celine’s past is a mystery no one was able to figure out, at least not yet. She was not a person of many words, always quietly watching everyone and everything, ready to shoot the first one that comes her way. Despite being Daphne’s cousin, who was all soft touches and pastel colors, Celine was brutally honest and even a little blunt, but had a great soul with good intentions, maybe just not the best person skills on the team.
And despite all that, she seemed to like Y/N for some reason, wasn’t the biggest fan of Raul, but she didn’t deny he was a great agent. So Y/N picked her cause she trusted her with her life, knowing she would do anything necessary to finish their mission. And then there was Thomas. Tommy as Raul liked to tease, was a newly turned full agent (three month ago to be precise) and still lacked a bit of that intuition only time and experience could give you, nonetheless he was a suggestion the boss made herself. Thomas was a great agent, with fresh ideas and still a bit naive, but he was quick at thinking, new a lot about tech and was a great field agent high made him a lot more complete than older ones. And with that, the team was closed and all worked out together after lunch until their bodies gave out. 
And to make it simple, the beginning was hellish, the end of the week was just like the beginning. 
The first day they started training physical combat, she was paired with Celine, which she was sure was attempted murder. Five minutes fighting she was on the floor, unable to move and breathing hard. Raul quickly climbed on the ring, helping her to get up as he told Celine to replace him with Tom. He moved her to sit on the little bench and brought her a bottle of water as she shook her head. 
“You know I can walk and do this myself, right?”
Raul huffed an amused laugh and nodded, sitting beside her “of course I do, doll, just taking care of my girl, yeah?”
Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, bumping his shoulder with hers as she chugged the water down “maybe I’m way worst than I originally thought”
“No, you’re not bad” he said shaking his head and she let out an annoyed breath “I mean it, you’re just rusty, this is not your field anyway, and you can’t use any weapons on the ring, so it’s harder, come on, you just need to activate muscle memory”  Raul said patting her back as he got up. 
“Wish I could believe in myself like you do” she giggled sadly as she took his bigger outstretched hand, letting him pull her up.
“Me too, but don’t worry, we’ll get there, that’s why you have me, silly” he pinched her cheeks “now come on, you’ve got a lot to remember”
He took her to the punching bags, grabbing a pair of gloves for him to wear for her to punch. Then proceeded to bark orders and different combinations of moves, and surprisingly, she remembered most of them, not necessarily executing them perfectly, but it was a start. He then got rid of the gloves before carefully wrapping her hands and moving her to a punching bag. 
“Here’s the thing, doll, you know what you’re doing, you just need to do it better” He placed his hands on her shoulders straightening her position, one hand sliding down her right arm to correct the movement “try it now” he said, his warm breath on her ear, making her suppress a shiver and forcing her to focus on the bag in front of her. 
Y/N tried and it definitely improved, but it still wasn’t what she remembered doing, something felt off “okay, yeah, thanks”
“Good, now fix your legs, you’ll be fighting someone who possibly knows how to fight back, so rearrange your feet to gain more balance in case they come for you” he instructed, hands still on her shoulders as he used his own feet to fix hers in the floor “yeah, that’s it, now the strength” his gently glided down her arms, only for them to stop at her waist and stomach “this is where you have to focus on, contracting abdominal muscles will help the movement and impact of your punch, this is what you’re missing”
She knew he wasn’t necessarily teasing her or anything, this was just Raul trying to help her in his very touchy way, but that didn’t stop Y/N from becoming a bit speechless, not trusting her own voice to respond, she only nodded her head. To which he just laughed stepping back.
“Relax your shoulders and don’t forget how to breathe, doll” he said crossing his arms above his chest as he watched her finally letting go of her breath, taking a deep one before punching a few times
It wasn’t perfect, but it was almost there.
Raul knew she was good and completely capable of taking anyone down within seconds, her grades on every test they ever took serving as even more proof for them. She just needed to remember it a bit and he wanted her to be completely ready to face anything, he couldn’t afford her getting hurt on anybody’s watch, specially his. So he would do anything he possibly could to avoid that. 
“Good, now give a few more, try a few kicks” he said and she looked back at him to nod, her breathing a bit elaborate  “I’ll meet on the ring later, sweetheart” Raul added with a wink before turning around to see the rest. 
“Fuck you” he heard her mumbling before turning back to her task at hand, making him chuckle lightly as he moved around the gym. 
Raul walked around helping as he could, wrestling with Jack for old time’s sake, adjusting a few of Tom’s moves and helping Celine with the new guns they’re given. He even managed to train a bit himself, before he decided it was time to take her to the ring before Y/N gave up on him and moved to something else. So he walked up to find her talking to Jack, he couldn’t hear much, but he heard enough to know it was time to intervene. 
“-yeah, Adrian keeps asking me about you, I think he wants to take you out, you should go, he’s a great guy and word around he’s good in what he does, if you know what I mean” he teased wiggling his eyebrows at Y/N, making her giggle “you should go out with him, really, you’re both single”
“He can ask her out when we’re back, the only date she’s having for now is on the ring, come on, doll” Raul cut the conversation before he could listen to her reply. 
“Jealous, cap?” Jack asked with a lopsided smile on his lips as she just laughed.
“Of Y/N? All the time, a pretty girl like her always has everyone’s attention, you should see whenever we go out to eat something or whatever”
Y/N rolled her eyes “oh please, shut up, both of you”
“I mean it, doll, now come on, let’s see how you improved” he said cracking his knuckles “and you, haven’t you got anything better to do than gossip?”
“Of course not, I’m all done” Jack replied.
“Done of getting your ass beaten today, you’ll only be ready whenever you’re able to take me down” Raul said as he draped his arm around Y/N’s shoulder. 
Jack only threw a middle finger at Raul as both of the boys laughed. 
Y/N and Raul climbed on the closest ring, with her stretching a bit as he did the same, both in some sort of staring competition. Everything with them could easily become a competition -who drank water fastest, little races to get to a certain place, who could count the most amount of super specific cars on a road trip, but the most common and their personal favorite, staring competition. And that was a recurring thing ever since they’re basically babies. And they both hated loosing and would try as hard as they could to beat the other. 
Raul’s mind was racing. He wanted to ask if she was actually interested in someone at if she’d say eyes to whoever wanted to ask her out, or even if she actually looking for a date or maybe even if she didn’t want a serious relationship for now. All that while he had this beautiful sparkling with excitement eyes staring into his soul, leaving him bare for her to read. Meanwhile, she was only trying to concentrate on what was about to happen and also on trying to keep her heart at a normal pace, knowing full well she was about the get really close to her best friend. Also having the other stare at her so intently it was making it hard for her to breathe properly.
“Ready?”
Raul only smiled at her “Was born ready, doll”
Y/N then surged forward, getting him by surprise with her punch landing on his shoulder, and he had to admit, her punch was good. With the element of shock on her favor, she tried hitting him again, clearly avoiding his face. Raul then stepped forward regaining his composure and cornering her slowly, only blocking her attempted attacks, without fighting back. He then was kicked hard on the thigh, a surprised yelp leaving his lips with the painful sensation spreading through his muscles, and just as she was about to hit him in his chest, he grabbed her hand, the other being quick to join his grasp on his right hand. 
“Not so bad, sweetheart” he said with a triumph smile on his lips but she was quick to get her left hand loose moving around to get out of the space he guided her to limit her space.
Then she started her series of punches and kicks again, him dodging most of them, but still being hit a few times making him proud but at the same time breath heavier on the pain spreading on his abused skin. When her hand came to hit him in the chest again, he grabbed it, already bringing the other one to join, before bringing her to the floor and immobilizing her with his own body. Y/N stopped struggling quickly, knowing she wasn’t going to be able to do much to get out of his grasp. She was panting heavily, but it was worth it, cause she was able to make him sweat and be a little less composed than when they started. 
“Bet your secret admirer would be proud” Raul said still unmoved on top of her.
“Bet he would” Y/N sassed back and Raul chuckled, dropping his head to her collarbone and she swear her heart skipped a beat, her breath hitching on her throat. 
Raul got up, offering a hand to her, which she gladly took “are you going out with him?”
“I don’t know, I don’t even know if that’s true or the guy, maybe? I think this is not the moment, so maybe i’m the future, who knows?” she shrugged, grabbing her water bottle and drinking before offering it to him.
“Yeah, you’re probably right” he said closing it again, pulling the ropes for her to step out.
Y/N turned around to face Raul, and as she waited for him she asked “what about you?”
“Me? What about me?” Raul stared at her, noticing the others were already gone.
“Are you proud?” she asked with a teasing smirk, voice playful, but deep down, that was all that mattered to her. Not Adrian or anyone else.
“I’m always proud of you, doll” he smirked at her and she only shook her head giggling “but yes, you’re good at it, just a bit more practice, you’re a natural”
                                                  -*-
“Come on, sweetheart, climb up here and I’ll let you all go so you can get ready for tomorrow” Raul said as he was propped up by the hopes on the ring, a smirk on his lips as everyone started gathering around. 
It was the last day of preparing before they left the next morning. They’ve spent the whole week perfecting their skills and cover ups until it rolled out smoothly off their tongues. Y/N and Raul started a routine, they decided to set camp on his living room since it was a lot bigger than hers, so they would wake up already on his place, grab breakfast, run for a while before going straight to work. Then they’d meet their teammates for a brief discussion, after hitting the gym until their limbs gave out. When it neared 6 p.m., they’d leave for his place where they’d shower and order takeout or cook something simple, before talking until they fell asleep, most nights on the living room.
And despite she remembered as clear as day she fell asleep on the couch, she would wake up on his bed, wrapped on a heavy duvet, with the sound of water droplets hitting the ground from his bathroom. They never talked about it, both acting as if this routine was normal and settled for years now. And it was shocking how well they fit the role of this whole domestic situation. And Peter was loving it, always throwing knowing looks at her whenever she went to visit his lab area. 
Y/N only rolled her eyes at him and Celine bumped her shoulder on Y/N’s, a feline smile gracing her sharp gorgeous features, and then  she turned to the six feet man standing at the edge of the ring “fine, but you’re buying me dinner”
“Whatever you want, and if you’re able to win, I’ll even buy sushi for you and give you a back massage” he offered as he pulled the ropes to help her climb, bowing his head trying to hold back a chuckle.
She climbed on as he let the rope snap back into its place “And what would I have to do if I loose?” she teased, knowing full well she was going to take the offer only to have a chance to rub his smirk on the dirty and sweaty ground beneath her feet.
“Pack my bag and say I’m the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid your eyes on” he stated simply. And honestly, it wouldn’t be such a hard thing to do, but first, she wouldn’t want to add it to his already over inflated ego, second, she didn’t know if she would be able to say it without blurting out some other compromising feelings. 
But Y/N stares at him and smiled lazily, like she wasn’t bothered at all  and truly contemplating his offer “tempting”
“Come on, babydoll” he mockingly pouted at her and she playfully sighed rolling her eyes, cracking her knuckles and rolling her head. 
“Alright, but you better be ready to order from my favorite place and get me dessert” she added with a pointed look and he nodded eagerly. 
“You make the rules” he winked before walking backwards to his designated spot “ready?”
“Yeah, let’s get this over it so you can buy me dinner” she teased, watching from the corner of her eyes as her teammates and even Peter gathered around to watch “or we can just stay here all night watching you brag about yourself and being all talk no action”
Raul laughed before shaking his head and a more concentrated look latch onto his eyes “don’t hold back, sweetheart”
“Not my thing” she said before taking a deep breath and trying to remember all she learned this week, making her first move.
Raul blocked her relatively easily, and then their movements flowed in an intricate rhythm. With only a few days of training, the improvement on her technique was obvious as she maneuvered a lot more gracefully than before. Her hits a lot more consistent, her defense was up and she was able to notice her opponents weakness so she could plan the next move. Y/N was also able to notice patterns on their tactics and predict their next move. 
And he was a bit shocked. In a good way, but shocked nonetheless. 
He knew she was good, Raul’s seen her training before, saw all her tests and grading throughout the years. Hell, he even taught her a lot of tricks he picked up over the years, so he knew how she behaved on a physical fight, knew her favorite moves and her worst ones like the back of his hand. But she surprised him with a few new hits and tricks he hasn’t seen her doing before. And that’s what caught him off guard and made her hit him hard a couple of times. That made Raul proud. Sure, he would loose the bet, but giving her a back massage, buying her food and seeing her happy after defeating him was priceless. 
He didn’t make it easy for her, he never would. He wanted her to be the best of the best, always. So he hit back, avoiding her head or going to strong, she had to be whole for the other day. But that didn’t stop him from trying to take her down, but she was quick, she wasn’t too strong, but her agility made up for it.
“Come on, we have an audience, we should put on a show”
Y/N shook her head, concentration never leaving her determined eyes “I’m not an actress to entertain a crowd, nor a clown like you, baby”
“Hey!” he sounded offended, grabbing her fist in his bigger hand “rude”
She just shrugged, pulling her hand back before going back into action and it couldn’t be even more exciting. The teasing, the meaningless banter and still great performance on the wrestle was enough to put an ease on Raul’s heart. She could do it. Of course she could, but now there would be less collateral damage. 
So when he felt her kick him to the ground, quickly pinning him to the rubber type material floor, immobilizing him in a way he wasn’t even able to move his arms if she didn’t let go. Y/N was sat on his stomach, face hovering centimeters above his, breath on frantic rhythm, as he panted on her face, feeling the slow pain crippling on his back and limbs where it collided with the floor. Raul couldn’t help but smile at the surprised and amused glint on her eyes as she was slowly processing she was able t take him down. The cheerful screams around them were only white noise as they stared at each other’s eyes, and he already felt like his heart was going to burst with pride and happiness, that until he heard the gleeful flightless leaving her lips as realization finally hit her, her forehead hitting his clavicle as she laughed, pure joy coursing through her veins.
He ended up laughing with her, his cheeks hurting from the smile stretched across his face. Y/N nuzzled her face on his neck still buzzing happily as she laughed. Raul turned his head lightly, only enough to press a kiss to her temple as she recovered her breathing. 
When she finally did, she untangled her legs from his, getting up from his torso and offering a hand at him, which he gladly took as he stood up, facing his colleagues as they still laughed and cheered at her. Celine climbed up to meet her with a quick, sharp, strong hug in congratulations before dragging her down with her. Jack was quick to pat Raul on the back as he chuckled, mumbling a ‘good luck with your girl, dude, she’s a badass and you’re gonna need it’. When he finally met her eyes again, he offered her his hand and Y/N automatically took it, letting him pull her closer until she was in his arms. 
“That was insane, doll, shit, you did so good” he said, arms loosely looped around her waist and she beamed proudly at him. 
“I did work hard for that” Y/N shrugged trying to play it coy but he was only able to chuckle.
Raul nodded “yeah, I noticed, and I’m so fucking proud of you for that, and many more reasons, but that?! You’re the fucking best, you know?” he praised and she felt her body heating up. 
“Actually” she said softly, looking down at his silver necklace “Celine’s the best, she showed me a few new tricks that I combined with the ones you taught me and the ones I already knew, so yeah”
“When did that even happen?” he didn’t try hiding his initial shock. They’ve been basically around each other 24/7, how did he not notice her training with someone else the past week?
“Well, to be fair you’re too cocky for your own good” Y/N had that pointed look in her eyes as she poked him on his broad chest “so I kinda asked her to show me how I could take you down and we’ve been doing it in secret, mostly when you went down to meet with Peter or to practice shooting”
“So it was a whole scheme just to try to embarrass me and knock me out?” he’s tone in a playful accusation as his brows shot up in evident disbelief.
“To sum it up, yeah, pretty much” she shrugged innocently as Raul threw his head back laughing.
“That's fucking awesome, you’re amazing” he said letting go of her waist, only to turn to face their team, dropping his arm around her shoulders “alright, guys, it was a hard week but I believe it paid off. We learned a lot with each other and I believe we’re a lot better now. This is still a fucked up mission, but I think we’re ready to face it and as long as we keep on working together and communicating well, we’ll be alright and coming back home as soon as possible, yeah? Think we should call it a day and test tonight”
“Okay, cap” Tom replied eagerly making Y/N chuckle before shaking her head. 
“So what do you say, cap?” Y/N asked teasingly as the others laughed.
Raul smiled down at her as he shook his head “Think we’re ready, doll”
                                                   -*-
*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know.
*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.
*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!
*Hope you guys enjoyed it!
*xoxo
-🌙
@mariamuses
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barren-heart · 3 years
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If you’re Jensen Ackles, Misha Collins, or Jared Padalecki.
STOP.
Read this post.
Dear J2M,
This is an open letter for you three written by a couple of unhappy passionate fans.
We write this to you because we know at least one of you has a secret Stan account and creeps on the destiel hashtag from time to time. Don’t lie. (Ahem. Misha Collins. Looking at you, Sir.)
With the subtle hints and possibility of a revival, us here at BarrenHeart (Bee and Jay) have some thoughts on what we think a reboot/continuation/revival would look like if it was done well.
Note: we don’t speak for the whole fandom(obviously). And we don’t even speak for all of the Cas/destiel fans. This is from our observation of the fandom after 15x18 and the finale, plus our own opinions.
Here are our demands suggestions for the potential revival.
--Castiel--
First things first. Castiel is brought back.
And by that, we mean he is either shown to be rescued from the empty, Jack rescues him from the empty, or by some other means, that man is not left there to suffer for all of eternity.
Castiel is a lead character.
Not a guest star, not “and Misha Collins.” No. Misha Collins gets to be in every d*mn episode. He is an equal lead alongside Dean and Sam. Which leads into the next point.
Castiel gets his own storyline.
It can be connected to Dean in some way, but he needs his own arc, y’all. Don't care what that is, but he IS his own character. So, some form of personal growth or whatever needs to happen. He is a badass and deserves a good storyline. Also…
Give this M-- F-- (mother father) his wings back!
Yes, he died without ever having his wings return to their full power. Like? We know he was nerfed so he wouldn't overpower Sam and Dean. Prove to us that he can be a fully powered badass and still work alongside Sam and Dean. No need to get rid of that.
Human!Cas does not mean pathetic Cas.
There is a divide on whether Castiel should stay an angel. Personally, we like human Cas. However, human Cas was shafted in the series. If you make him human in any way, shape, or form, he’s gonna still have to be a badass. Don’t whimp him!
He can be a good hunter/pretend FBI agent just like Sam and Dean!
So, make him one! Let him do more cases. On his own. With other people. With Sam. With Dean. He can fight without powers, too.
Give him love!
For the love of freaking Jack, let that man know he is loved by people. Not even mentioning anything romantic, he still needs platonic love y’all. Let Sam say it, let Jack say it. Let anyone in his family tell him that he is loved. Not once in this series did Cas hear that anyone loved him. So, fix it!
New style, anyone?
Cas needs other clothes! Please now. The black trenchcoat we never saw in-show? Boss. Cas in a black leather jacket? Coolness. Hunter plaid? Do it.
Confession Resolution
Speaking of love, come to some conclusion please about him and Dean. Give a resolution somehow, somewhere. We personally don’t really care how it’s done, but there needs to be something said here. You cannot just drop a confession there and just leave like it never happened. So, talk about it.
Adding this, I swear, if this is bros only, you WILL lose Cas fans. So, think about what you’re doing.
--Sam--
Sam is important!
Now, personally we have a soft spot for Sam. His character arc in Season 1-5 was great. Demon blood, powerful Sam was amazing. So, don’t sideline Sam. Seriously. We are gonna say in an unpopular way (as if this post isn’t already unpopular to some), but Sam got sidelined real hard in the last few seasons of the show. Now, was that what Jared wanted? Don’t know. But, Sam needs his own storyline too that isn’t just revolved around Dean. Figure it out.
Witch!Sam
Speaking of which, let this man be powerful. Sam is best when he has powers. Sorry but also not. He has been given all of Rowena’s (who is arguably the best witch around) spell books and decides to not really do much with it? No. He’s becoming a BAMF witch. Full-out, no word spells and shit. End point.
Sam in Charge
He’s not just a baby brother. He’s a grown man. Give him room to grow. Allow him to be a leader. Let him lead a group of hunters, witches, a whole team of people! He’s strong on his own, too. He's a big boy. Prove it.
He should fall in love.
Like, get married and all that. It’s a part of his arc, so keep it there. No blurry wife, my god! Personally it should be Eileen. She’s a badass. They also have a lot in common! Holy hell. They make a good team. So, keep that suggestion in mind.
Let him have the hero’s journey.
We want a good ending that shows growth for this character! He saw himself as a freak with powers, so…maybe he can use his powers now in a way that in empowering instead? Let him have an ending that doesn't just return to the beginning. Let him have gone through all of this changed for the better.
Don't be creepy.
Still keep the brotherly bond with Dean, but don’t make it weird, y’all. Don’t. Please.
Sam as a dad.
He can have a kid. But, Dean Jr? Eh. You might want to reconsider some other (Bobby) possibilities.
--Dean--
Now, with Dean, I wanna make this clear.
DO NOT K word THIS MAN.
This man here has dealt with unbelievable trauma, suicidal thoughts and even almost died by suicide in the show (okay, it was for another reason, but still!) He dies way too many times in this show. It’s not new anymore. Perhaps, when the show was newer, death might have been a bittersweet ending. But, now. It’s tarnished. It happened too much and the message of “carry on” got tainted to mean “there is only peace when you die.” That’s not okay.
Resolve his issues!
He has so much pain and trauma. Let him seek help. Let your audience know that it’s okay to process these emotions. Let him heal. He deserves it.
Dean’s internal struggles
This is piggybacking a little off of point two, but Dean has a lot of things he needs to figure out. We feel like his journey is more internal. While processing his trauma, he needs to learn that it's okay to be himself. This could include things about himself that he feels ashamed of or scared to admit. Things he may have repressed or suppressed over time. No more hiding who he is or brushing it off or making jokes. Be your true self, Dean. It's time.
Dean’s still important, of course
That said, Dean should still be integral to the overall narrative of the plot. Of course he's gonna go head to head with the Big Bad of the season/limited series, but he really should focus on what's inside first before he can take this monster down.
The Bro bond
No more dependent/unhealthy bond with Sam. Of course they are family and brothers, and will always be close. That's perfectly fine. However, its important to note that Dean was Sam’s mom/Dad most of his whole life. And, well, that never came to a resolution. Please let Dean resolve this issue. Sam is grown and older now, and even though Dean will always feel protective of him as his Big brother, Dean shouldn't feel like his life only revolves around taking care of Sam. There is more to Dean and his life.
Dean is complex
Also, Dean is not only about cars, burgers, and pie. It's like some of the writers forgot this. There are so many things/interests of Dean’s that are really cool and add to the complexity of his character. Keep those things.
He needs to resolve his issue with Jack.
He never said sorry to the kid. Not once after telling Sam that Jack wasn't family. He needs to tell Jack he is loved.
Speaking of which, Dean needs to tell Cas he loves him.
Okay. Who knows if you will make destiel reciprocal at this point.
Do we think Dean would have reciprocated based on context clues and what we have seen in the show? Yes.
Do we think this love is romantic? Yes.
Do we think you'll actually fully make it canon in a reboot/continuation? Eh.
Regardless, Dean loves Cas, so make it known.
Other demands considerations.
‘The found family’ needs to not be forgotten.
All the friends that were made along the way need to be included. What happened with Garth was great, actually. Do more of that. And by that, we mean include Jody and Donna. What are the girls doing now? Wayward sisters anyone? Bring Kevin back. Don't leave him to roam the earth all along like that. Either make him human again like Eileen or send him to rest in Heaven.
Where’s Eileen?
Hello??? Where? Tell us she made it back.
Claire
No idea if you can get Kathryn Newton back, but it would be cool at least for one episode. Please. Kaia? Resolve her storyline.
Also, Charlie.
Wtf happened? That was not resolved. We love Felicia Day. Charlie’s friendship with Dean is amazing. She deserves a few episodes.
Crowley!
Seriously. What happened to Mark was super disappointing. You gotta bring him back. His death wasn't great. Bring him back and give him his damn line already!
Jack!
I'm not fully on the Baby!Jack train, but he does deserve a normal life. He's three years old technically. He had no normal life whatsoever. He deserves that. So, give him that.
More Rowena please!
That's it. She's awesome.
Have a wedding.
No, really. Someone's gotta get married. Our pick: Sam and Eileen. Charlie is also a good contender for having a wedding with her partner, too. So there. Weddings are happy. We want a happy ending.
I will reiterate. Team free will lives. That's it.
Okay. Now, moving on to the next part of this. The elephant in the room. The thing a lot of us actually want from this, but frankly, we aren't sure if you'll do it.
Explicit Destiel.
If you've read this far J2M, then you're probably wondering when this was going to be addressed. So, here are the stipulations on destiel.
Go big or go home.
Yep. We said it. Make it explicit, full out, no ambiguity.
Honestly, you might be thinking what you could do to make it explicitly canon? Well, since there were tons of people who still think Cas’ love confession was just a platonic exchange between two bros (like wtf? How?), you're gonna have to spell it out for people.
But, some things that we may perceive as romantic, some people may not.
--Like, holding hands could be considered platonic between two men to some people.
--Cheek kissing could also be considered platonic to some people.
Not to say we need Jensen and Misha doing full on *** scenes to prove anything, but something more than a hand hold. Okay? Okay.
What we’re saying is basically, you're gonna have to kiss. On the lips. Yep.
So...I guess you'll have to figure out how you want to do that.
On when to make it canon:
You can decide if it makes sense to make it canon towards the beginning or towards the end. Honestly, there could be an argument for either. If it's made canon earlier, you could prove there can be a relationship alongside the main storyline. If you wait until the end, you'll leave fans wondering if you'll actually do it. But, the kiss being the major event of the finale could be worth it. Whichever you do, remember there are upsides and downsides to both.
Other other considerations:
Just realize who your fanbase is now. We’ve grown and changed. Like Becky, your fans have gone through a huge change in what they want from the show. Is the fandom all on the same page? Nope. Will they ever be? No.
You will not please everyone. That's a given. But, a lot of fans want to see the show wrap up in a better way than what we got. Destiel fans aside, the finale was not great overall. There are plenty of negative finale reviews that have nothing to do with destiel.
On top of that, society is changing. Slowly. The attitudes in regards to lgbtq media is quite different than before. You have the chance to make history. Really. If you make this canon, that will be a part of your legacy. You'll hit the news. I mean, 15x18 wasn't even the finale and it trended #1 that day.
We suggest that if you do decide to make it canon, it’s meaningful and you take the time to do it right.
So, consider your fans. Consider the part of the fandom that trended your show over the election. Consider the fans that trended a fictional wedding on Valentine's Day. Consider Misha/Cas fans who felt slighted. Consider your LGBTQA + fans. Just, think about what the reboot could achieve. What it could mean to a lot of people.
As always, we just want happiness and peace when we are done.
Thanks for reading Misha J2M.
Sincerely,
Bee 🐝 and Jay 🐦
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jeonronwoo · 3 years
Text
See You Again → Jeon Wonwoo
anonymous asked: Hi! Loved all ur scenarios, big fan. can I request a break up angst scenarios with wonwoo from svt? Tysm love u queen💜
Requested.
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: None.
Genre: Angst.
Pt. 2
A/N: Good things it’s not Valentine’s Day yet in the states lol😂 This literally broke my heart, just bring some tissues and listen to this song on repeat for a better experience. Hope you like it! ❤
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Your manager called you asking you to meet him right away, you didn’t know what was going on causing you to ask your band’s leader if she knew anything about what the manager wanted to talk about so urgently. She didn’t know either and you couldn’t be more confused.
You took a taxi to your label, and during the ride, you took out your phone to check on your boyfriend, Wonwoo.
You two had been dating for a year and three months in secret but on your first anniversary, you both decided to go public and reveal your relationship to both of your fans. You both knew that it would be tough because things like these aren’t truly accepted by the public. Both of you got hate, and even threats, you never replied to them leaving your label to deal with it.
You arrived in front of your label and you paid the driver getting inside the building to meet with your manager. You saw him sitting in the reception and you walked over to him.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” you said and he stood up shaking his head.
“You’re not late, we have a meeting with the CEO.” he announced and you looked at him confused.
“Then why aren’t the rest of the band here? Wait, is it about my solo? Am I finally going to be able to release it?!” you asked excitedly causing the manager’s heart to ache.
He shook his head again but walked to the CEO’s office with you following behind him. Now, you were getting worried, why would he want you to meet the CEO if there’s nothing involved your solo or your band activities? Guess you had to wait.
Your manager knocked on the door and opened it, he stepped inside and bowed to the CEO, and you did the same thing smiling politely.
“Have a seat please,” he said and you both took a seat, he didn’t say anything, just passed you the phone quietly and said, “Take a look.”
You took the phone as you began reading what was written. Your heart dropped catching on to where this was going.
You read the hate comments that were being written about you and Wonwoo, it was all under a trending hashtag. They even signed up petitions for you two to break up.
You didn’t realise you were crying until you saw a tear drop on the phone, you sniffled as you looked at the CEO who was looking at you with sympathy.
“Y/N, this is not good for you nor the band, you are already losing a lot of fans, and you need those fans your debut date hasn’t even marked three years. You two have to break up.” he said causing your heart to shatter.
“But I don’t remember anything in the contract that forbids dating.” you replied wittily but your manager sighed.
“Listen Y/N, if you continue being in this relationship you aren’t the only one that’s going to be down, the whole band. You can’t be selfish in these things. The fans are furious, he isn’t only your senior, but older than you by quite some years, the fans aren’t going to stop.” he said and you shook your head.
“I can’t do it! It’s not that easy, I swear! I will do anything you say but this, please.” you begged not caring if you looked pathetic or not.
The CEO shook his head his mind was made up and he already took the decision, “You’re going to break up, you have no choice, either this or you can consider yourself out of the band.” he said sternly and you looked at him surprised.
What were you going to tell Wonwoo? You don’t want to break his heart, how could you do this when he treated you with nothing but love and respect? He had a big impact on your career, and if you lose him you’re going to lose your passion.
“We’ve already contacted his label, they’re going to release a statement soon, and our statement is already out, so expect some paparazzi and fans outside. You’re off to go.” the CEO said and you stood up leaving the office not waiting for your manager.
You wore your mask and sunglasses to hide that you were crying, paparazzi bombarded you with questions but the bodyguards held them back. You got into your manager’s car as he drove you to your dorm.
“Can we stop at his dorm? At least I can break up officially with him, please?” you asked quietly and the manager sighed but nodded and ordered the driver to go to his dorm.
You tried to think of anything to tell him but you couldn’t think of anything, what were you supposed to say when you’re forced to do this? It hurts already thinking of it, and you wondered how would it feel just standing in front of him saying that you wanted to break up.
You arrived in front of the dorms and felt the lump in your throat getting heavier, you got out of the car and went to the door ringing the bell. You waited impatiently until the door opened revealing Mingyu.
The look on his face told you everything, Wonwoo knew what was happening, you took off your mask and sunglasses as you walked up to Wonwoo’s room.
You entered the room and saw him sitting on his bed with his head in his hands, he looked up expecting to see Mingyu and was about to tell him off but when he saw you he stood up and walked over to you.
“Please tell me what I read wasn’t true, tell me these are rumours, say anything.” he begged but you shook your head crying. He took you in his arms as you buried your face in his chest not wanting to let go of him.
How were you supposed to go on without him being there for you? Who will you go to when everything was overwhelming you? Who will be there for you when you feel like giving up? Who will hold you when you want to escape the hectic life you’re living? Who will be there to brighten up your day when you’re feeling down?
Being without Wonwoo is going to be hard and you know it, you didn’t want to let your members down, and you also didn’t want to affect Wonwoo’s career.
“Princess, talk to me, say anything,” Wonwoo begged as you pulled away from him.
“They gave me no choice and threatened if I don’t break up with you they’ll kick me out of the band. I’m so sorry Wonwoo, I don’t want this, trust me, they even released that statement without my knowledge.” you cried and he hugged you again.
“I know and I understand why you did it, it’s okay Y/N,” Wonwoo said and you shool your head.
“It’s not okay! I don’t want to let go! I’m not ready and I will never be ready for this moment! I want to be with you, but knowing that there are people who are mad at us for dating makes my heart ache. I want to be with you Wonwoo, only you.” you said as he took your face in his hands as he pressed his soft lips against your forehead.
You closed your eyes wishing for the time to stop so you can stay like this forever, but this couldn’t happen you had to let go of each other.
“I promise you Y/N, I will come back to you, we are going to be together again, but in the meantime, we have to let go. Just for some time. I will always be there for you, I swear to you.” Wonwoo vowed as he cried, the heartache was too much for him to handle.
He held his pinkie out for you and you linked it with yours, he grabbed your face kissing you.
You felt your tears mixing as you both held onto each other for dear life. This kiss was unlike any other kiss you two shared, this was your goodbye kiss, and this was the last time you two are ever going to speak a word to each other. If you walked out of this dorm, you two are going to act like complete strangers towards each other.
If it wasn’t for the need for oxygen, you wouldn’t have pulled away, you looked at Wonwoo as you cried harder realising that it was time to let go. Wonwoo’s heart clenched at the sight of you like this and he wanted nothing more than to take your hand and run away with you.
“Baby girl please stop crying, you know I hate seeing you like this, I promise I’ll be here if you ever need me, this isn’t goodbye, okay? Consider it as see you soon.” Wonwoo said as he wiped away your tears and you nodded heavily. He smiled weakly and pressed one last kiss to your lips and you whispered.
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
You pulled away and ran out of the room your tears not stopping as you grabbed your mask and sunglasses and left the dorms leaving your only true love behind because you couldn’t be with him.
124 notes · View notes
copias-thrall · 3 years
Text
Cause I'm Young and I'm Here and So Beautiful
A look into the rise and fall of Mary Goore's flash-in-the-pan modeling career.
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~12.5K Mary Goore/Reader *drug/alcohol use; mentions of past child abuse; brief homelessness; plot no porn; POV shift*
This fic was inspired by and is very loosely based on Aurelio Voltaire's early days in NYC in the 90s, though I have set it in Boston in the early aughts. 😊
Many thanks to the artists who did commissions for this! 🥰
One Way Streets
Mary stepped off the regional rail and gripped his backpack. He had $72.57 in cash rolled into his socks and a give-em-hell attitude.
When he’d packed his bag the night before, he wasn’t even sure if he’d go through with it, but he couldn’t stand being home anymore. Some of his friends had told him he was crazy.
"Three more months, dude. You got this. Just finish high school, then bounce."
But they didn’t have to live with his dad and the step-monster. Every day was a new indignity. Having them bitch about his music and his style was one thing—that he could have dealt with—but everything else had just kind of…escalated.
Now that the kiddies were older, they’d turned into gremlins. They’d somehow sensed that Mary wasn’t their beloved older brother—he was some sort of half other. They’d stopped questioning why "mom was so mean" to him and had accepted that she was because there was something wrong with Mary. They realized they could be little shits and blame everything on him.
And dad just didn’t care. He’d throw up his hands and say, "I have to live with her"—as if Mary wasn’t in the same boat.
Dad hadn’t stopped her when—in a rage—she’d smashed every single vinyl album Mary had owned because the twins ruined her nice tablecloth. He’d shrugged when she cut all Mary's guitar strings so he couldn’t play "the devil’s music." He’d held Mary back when she took a match and burned all his secret stuff that Mary kept under his bed—action figures, books, guitar mags, journals—in the backyard because he got detention for smoking. He hadn’t said a word when the police showed up after she came at Mary with scissors because he’d dyed his hair black and he’d pushed her away before she could scalp him.
Mary thought for sure he was going to get carted off to jail as she screamed about him terrorizing the family and being afraid he was going to kill her sons in their sleep, but the officers had just looked at her bored and told her being a teenager wasn’t a crime.
So, no: Mary couldn’t wait 3 more months.
He’d scraped together what money he had left from his secret shifts working as a busboy under the table at a local dive downtown, packed his backpack with the essentials, and walked the 5 miles to the train station instead of going to school.
Eighteen was 10 weeks away. He could fudge it for a few months, especially since he could already get away without using his fake ID to get into shows most of the time.
So, to the big city it was.
He shifted his weight and tried to pretend that he belonged here in Boston, but actually facing the busy streets was a lot different from looking at a bird’s-eye view map. He had a printout in his pocket, but he didn’t want to look like a doe-eyed tourist. So he set off down the seemingly labyrinthine streets in the direction he could have sworn was the correct one.
It wasn't.
When he came out a side alley into Faneuil Hall, he almost wondered if he'd gone through a fairy portal, since he was clear on the other side of town. Begrudgingly, he checked his creased map, and set out once more.
And ended up spit out by the State building.
Finding the hostel turned into a fraught adventure, and he got turned around several times more. When he tried to ask for directions, most people pushed past him while one lady shoved $5 at him. He used the cash to buy a hotdog, and it was the vendor who ultimately gave him directions in his thick, Southie accent.
Of course, making it to the hostel ended up being just part one. The rates were almost double what it stated online ("Sorry, honey—that site hasn’t been upgraded since the 90s."), and two nights were practically all his savings. Mary had thought he’d at least have a couple of days to find a job, not 36hrs.
He left the hostel, wondering for the first time if maybe he shouldn’t go back home…but he decided it was a nice day out. Surely there was some place he could hunker down. Just for the night.
What he hadn’t anticipated was the cops at every fucking turn telling him to move along. And any place out of line-of-sight seemed to already be inhabited.
He finally found a place behind some rocks in the Seaport where he didn’t think he’d be murdered in his sleep, curled around his backpack, and drifted off into a fitful sleep.
Mary woke up damp from the dew and the morning sun streaming into his eyes. The birds were creating an awful racket, but Mary guessed it was as good an alarm clock as any.
He ran his fingers through his bird's nest of hair, and he made his way back to the South Station. The men’s room may have smelled like a sewage treatment plant, but at least it was free. He had expected it to be mostly empty at the crack of dawn, but it was full of commuters making that last run to the head before they had to take the train 2hrs out of the city for work.
And it was a sight: a bunch of suits with their fancy lattes washing their hands, and Mary in the corner trying to surreptitiously wipe down with paper towels under his Misfits t-shirt and his shredded jeans. At school, he’d have probably gotten into several altercations by now—no one would have let him just turn into Mary Goore without a fight—but this was Boston, and no one gave him more than a cursory glance.
Just another college kid.
It emboldened Mary to go full-out in the kind of way he had only done when going out to the punk shows downtown at night: kohl all the way around his eyes, and some on his cheekbones; mascara because his lashes are long and thick, and he knows it (his dad had said it made him look hard, and Mary had sneered that maybe that was what he’d been going for. But maybe it had been because he’d liked the way it had made his green eyes pop.); a smear of the step-monster’s fanciest matte lipstick on his full lips; and airplane glue in his hair to give it that lift.
He made a kissy face at himself in the mirror, and headed back out.
It was a nice Spring day—almost boiling in the direct sun—and it tempted Mary to wear only his battle vest, but even he kind of figured applying to jobs half dressed was a mistake.
He walked all over the city, trying not to get lost, looking for any kind of work—dishwasher, busboy, barback—but all he had to show for it was blistered feet and a raging appetite. The only good part of the day was that he noted any restaurant or bakery that looked like it might toss perfectly good food at the end of the day.
He and his friends had become experts at dumpster diving in his podunk town, and he felt confident that he had a good feel for a jackpot. Mary staked out a bakery and was rewarded with a find of "old" bagels. He shoved as many as he could into the nooks and crannies of his backpack before slinking off to the Commons to inhale at least two of them.
Cold, stale dough never tasted so good.
He watched the tourists and the professionals walk by in ones and in groups while he ran his bare feet through the grass. Some laughed with each other as they sauntered down the path while others seemed singularly intent on their ultimate destination. A pack of dogs ran and played with each other as their owners looked on fondly, and nearby the baseball diamond hosted a casual game.
Mary counted his lucky stars that his first week in Boston was April at its kindest—always mild during the day, even when it turned cloudy, and a few times even downright warm. The nights turned chilly, though, and it had Mary in more layers than an onion. If the birds or damp didn't wake him, his butt cramps from being curled in a tight ball all night did.
He spent those days walking around the city proper looking for work. He wasn't adventurous enough to make the leap across the bridges to Cambridge just yet, but his travels gave him a good sense on how the different sections of Boston connected—and showed him potential places to crash at night. He didn't even mind living off day-old garbage food and drinking from bubblers (he'd bought a water for the express purpose of reusing the bottle), but the barren wasteland that seemed to be the job market was beginning to weigh on him.
At home, he could always find a shit job if he was willing to put up with shit hours and ridiculous requests. Here, though, Mary was just one of many desperate people willing to do desperate work.
And he didn’t look particularly trustworthy or reliable.
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@dipendancesld
Hashtag WTF
I’m scrolling through Insta on the T, and I’m way down the rabbit hole of hashtags. New content was at a minimum this morning (how can I follow accounts in triple digits and only see the same 4 posts?!), so I’d started with some art tags and ended up where I usually end up—trolling social media for blurry pictures of my boy.
His band has been a local staple for years—or at least that’s what he told me on our first date. I had just moved from New York after a nasty breakup, ready to start fresh, and I’d seen him at a coffee shop hanging posters for his next show in his leather jacket, asymmetrical Metallica crop top, and stomping boots.
Fresh had never looked so good.
Then, a few months back, an online publication had featured his band in the year’s 50 best bands "you’ve never heard of," and now the band's starting to gain traction.
He’s starting to gain traction.
Finding the new online content of him first has become a game the two of us play. We had to stop counting images posted from the popular fan accounts because Mary's now acquaintances with most of them, and I said it was hardly fair to snipe me that way. Mary had pouted—but it was to cover up his grin. So now we troll for the pictures of his latest gig or at his favorite haunts from either his  casual fans or one of his new ones. I even have a whole range of hashtag typos saved if I really want to triumph, since Mary just doesn't have the attention span.
I usually win, though, by virtue of not keeping Rockstar Hours—and because Mary doesn’t have a smartphone. Mary delights in spending the wee hours while I'm sleeping finding new content, and I'll often wake to one he's pulled up on my laptop and a "suck it" sticky note stuck to my monitor.
(But I’m reigning supreme.)
There’s a thirst tag I sometimes comb through (for reasons), and today I’m desperate for that morning serotonin to keep me from dozing off, which is why I stumble across a particularly convincing cosplayer in some…risqué poses and outfits.
The dude is really good, and I have to admit he really does have Mary’s mannerisms down pat. He’s younger and a little skinnier than Mary is now, but his facial expressions are on point. I zoom in to see the contouring technique because he's using one of those filters to make it look old…and that’s when I sense something off. I can’t quite place my finger on it, but usually there’s an uncanny valley to his serious cosplayers, and this dude looks so real. He’s even 100% accurate with the mole placement, which is something I never see.
My heart does a flip-flop.
Is that…actually Mary?
Foundling
Mary's sixth night in the city, it rained. It was more of a brief Spring shower, but it was still enough to soak him and his backpack through. He shivered through the early morning hours until the sun came up, then he made his way to the Commons to lay his belongings—and himself—out into the sun to dry.
By midday, he had a slight sunburn across his nose, but most of his things were dryish—though the food was a soggy lost cause. He cut his losses and decided to buy a sausage from the hotdog vendor, even if that meant he was down to $52.37 in his sock bank.
It was the most amazing thing he'd ever eaten in his entire life (sometimes he still dreams of it), and he gobbled it down as he sat in the grass and watched the show of people pass by.
He could take today off from his job search.
Just another Groundhog Day of rejections.
A gaggle of kids about his age walked past, and he lit up when he saw them: studs and bright hair and cuffs and combat boots. They ran and shrieked and shoved at each other, and Mary had never felt such longing to be a part of something.
Not that nebulous feeling of "my world is out there somewhere," but "my world is right there if I can just get to it."
And he realized maybe he could.
These were his people.
Mary hopped off the bench and approached the boisterous group.
"Uh, hey…guys."
The pack stopped and looked him over, confused but not hostile.
"Oh hey, man" said a girl with green fins and a studded, leather jacket.
"Hey."
I have nowhere to go. Can I go with you?
"Sorry, I forgot your name."
"Oh, you don’t—"
A guy in a tight striped shirt, snake bites, and blue hair interrupted him.
"Shit, were you in my intro into film class last year?"
Mary was a high school dropout.
"Nah, dude. I’m new and shit."
…But he wasn’t stupid.
A curvy white goth with bleached blonde hair and a cream princess dress smiled at him.
"Aww, that’s rough, honey. If you think about it, they really ought to give transfers on-campus housing. It sucks to be so new and away from the action."
Mary nodded. "Yeah. Sucks."
"Well, we’re going to The Pit, wanna come?"
"If you guys don’t mind…"
"Fuck, the more the merrier!"
Mary smiled as they assimilated him into the group. He found out the goth’s name was Vanessa ("But call me Vanity."), green fins was Alexa ("Or Alex. I’m trying it out."), striped shirt was Billy, and the two other punks were Mandi (Manic Panic red) and Aaron (band tee, spiked collar).
No one laughed at him when he introduced himself as Mary or asked him why he had a girl’s name.
They took him onto the T at Charles MGH, and Mary marveled at the setting sun over the Charles River before the train ducked underground to barrel in Cambridge. At Harvard, they ushered him off the train and directly into The Pit, and Mary almost cried when he saw the pit rats there playing hacky sack, strumming guitars, and smoking cloves. Mary watched as his group high-fived, bumped chests, and hugged nearly everyone there before introducing him as if they’d known him for years.
He was shit at hacky sack, but he accepted a round on the guitar and shared a clove with a white girl who had a rat's nest of hair.
"Fuck their beauty stands," she said when she caught Mary staring.
Mary smiled and pointed to his own mess of hair. "Fuck ‘em," he repeated.
She cackled and handed him a brown bag with what he expected to be whiskey, but tasted like turpentine.
She laughed harder at his face as he coughed, and she pounded him on the back.
"Moonshine, dude. Lenny makes it in his bathtub."
"Which one is Lenny," Mary asked as he wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Oh, he’s not here. He goes to MIT. We have a strict trade agreement—booze for pot. I’m Katie."
Head fuzzy, Mary had made out with her until Aaron tugged on his arm.
"Shit dude, we gotta go before the T closes. You live close to here?"
"Uh…"
"Aww, I think he got into Lenny’s moonshine," said Vanity. "If he’s a transfer, I bet he’s at some shithole in Allston. You in Allston, honey?"
Mary just nodded.
"All right then," said Alex, taking charge. "We’ll put him up tonight. There’s no way he’s gonna make it back to Allston by himself, and I’ll be fucked if I’m trekking out there without a BU party to crash."
Mary wobbled slightly as Alex took his arm in his and led him to the T.
"Ok, we gotta go now or we’ll all be hoofing it."
They took Mary back to their dorm by the Hatch Shell and signed him in as a guest.
"Is this ok?" Mary asked warily—he didn't want to get kicked out in the middle of the night.
Mandi patted him on the back.
"We do it all time. No one really gives a shit. Vegan Mick dropped out 2 semesters ago and they don’t even check for his ID."
That night, Mary slept in the common room on a lumpy couch that was half as long as he was.
It was heaven.
The next morning seemed like the end, and Mary slumped as Vanity to sign him out. For one brief day he'd been a part of something, and now it was back to Mary, party of one. But Vanity took one look at his face and asked if he wanted to get breakfast at the dining hall.
Of course, he wanted to…but he thought of the dwindling cash in sock bank and hesitated. Vanity, bless her, misread his trepidation.
"It's on me, sweetie. I know most transfers don’t opt in. Too expensive when it’s not bundled. No worries, I got a ton of points I don’t use."
Alex and Aaron were already half done with their food when Vanity and he joined them, and they looked on in amusement as Mary ate half the breakfast buffet.
When the subject of classes came up, he shrugged off questions.
"None this morning."
Alex narrowed her eyes at him.
"What year did you say you were?"
"Sophomore."
"Not a freshman?"
Mary shook his head. "I’m not a freshman."
She seemed about to ask another question, so Mary quickly changed the subject.
"I thought I’d spend the day applying for jobs. You guys know of any place that’s hiring?"
"No work study?"
"No."
"What kind of work you looking for?"
"Shit, anything. I’ll sweep the fucking floors."
They bandied about ideas, places for Mary to try, but no one had any leads. Too soon, some unknown gong had them scurrying to get to class.
Mary suddenly panicked.
"Hey, do you guys mind if I spend the night again? I mean…"
"Yeah, sure," said Vanity. "Aaron?"
"Yeah, man. Meet me after class and I'll swipe you in."
It apparently was a time-honored tradition, passed down from upperclassmen to underclassmen, on gaming the guest system. Most kids used it to essentially move their significant others into their dorm rooms, but a handful every year used it to give haven to others who had questionable housing situations.
So, just like that, Mary had a place to rest his bones.
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@dilfpassing
A Deeper Look
I’m so intent on scrolling through the comments on the grainy pics—which I'm sure now are actual scans—that I completely miss my stop, and I have to put my phone away so I can wheeze lightly jog my way to where I work as a receptionist at an alternative hair salon.
It’s really important that I start a good hour before we open so I can return any calls left on our voicemail first thing in case I can fit anyone in today. Which means I have to shelve my find for now, much to my irritation.
Mornings are super-busy because apparently there are some people in the world that like getting up with the sun and want everything done by noon. (June Cleaver’s salon lets me get away with a lot—like coming to work in denim short-shorts and ripped tights, free hair colors, and a snarky attitude—but late start times aren’t one of them.) I honestly don’t have room in my brain to obsess about the pictures because I’m too busy answering calls, making coffee, settling accounts, and giving the new customer spiel for the 57th time to a walk-in.
It’s just after midday, when Penny, the shampoo girl, collects my cash for the salon-wide sandwich run, and I finally have a moment to breathe. And obsess.
I take out my phone again, and I have to retrace my steps because of course the app has refreshed, which is why Sonia has the time to look over my shoulder.
"Missing dream boy’s dick so much you gotta spend your lunch hour ogling pics of him on the internet?"
I zoom in on the one of maybe!Mary in his underwear.
"Who does that look like to you?"
Sonia makes a guh sound in her throat and backs away.
"I don’t need to see your intimates!"
"That’s the thing! It’s not mine!"
"Your boy’s nudes get leaked??"
I wave my arms around.
"I don’t freakin’ know! They may not even be him. Fucking. C’mere and help me out!"
Sonia warily creeps back over, and so does Ryan, since all the yelling has attracted him.
The three of us peer over the phone as I scroll through the images again.
By the time Penny comes back with lunch, we’ve gone back and forth on who’s in the images—Mary or a fake—and I haven’t been able to do any actual research. The afternoon rush starts, and I have to table the whole thing again, having made no progress at all.
It isn’t until near-closing, when most of the other stylists have gone home—and it’s only June who does the post-work crowd—that I can really dig into the matter.
A deep dive and a couple of defunct, decade-old forums later, I find that what I took as an aspirational hashtag was actually the name of a zine called "Heroes."
There’s like, zero online trail about it—except for a few other grainy scans of other pages of articles, poetry, concert pictures, and art—but it seemed to be an early aughts missive for local underground culture and color.
It still doesn’t explain why Mary’s in there in various states of undress and poses.
Or why Mary has never said a word about it to me.
Stripped Bare
Mary settled into a sort of routine. He spent most days looking for a job—any job—with his backpack full of food from their dining hall. Most nights he rotated couches on different floors so the RAs didn’t notice that he basically lived there.
He made friends with Vegan Mick for about 5 seconds until Mary had eaten an entire Rotisserie chicken from 7-11 in front of him. Mick had launched into a whole spiel, and Mary had pointed out that Mick's jacket and Docs were made of leather. He’d only meant it as a joke—a callout in answer to a callout, like he'd do with his friends back home—but Vegan Mick had turned purple, then iced Mary out every time he saw him after that.
Oops.
The brief friendship had lasted long enough, however, for Mick to give Mary some tips and tricks of being homeless.
Homeless.
That had been a tough pill to swallow. Until Vegan Mick had put Mary’s situation like that, Mary had just thought of himself between places.
But it was true: he didn’t live anywhere. He skated by on the kindness of his new friends, and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep up the ruse of "transfer student who didn’t like his shithole apartment and was too busy job searching to concentrate on classes."
He still spent a few nights a week finding an out-of-the-way place outside to hunker down in or huddling in with Katie and a few of the other gutter punks under their boxes in the corners of the T stations. He knew they would have been more than happy to make room, anyway, but Mary always emptied his backpack of all the pilfered dining hall food for distribution amongst them.
It honestly wasn't so terrible now that he had friends and a warm place to go on cold or rainy nights, but.
He needed an actual place to live. To afford an actual place to live, he needed a job. To get a job, he needed a place to live.
It seemed like a catch-22, and he began to despair that he’d never get ahead…until Mandi offered him a leg up.
Mary was sitting on the grass in the Commons in the shade, thinking that with summer coming up, maybe he could fudge it until the gang came back in September. There was always Katie and The Pit, and Mary was sure he could chip in somehow.
Mandi sat down next to him.
"I thought that mess of hair was you, Mare."
"Hey, Mandi. What’s kicks?"
"You still looking for a job?"
Mary put his head in his hands and sighed.
"Don’t remind me."
"You over 18?"
Just last week. But Mary hadn’t said, since they thought he was a Sophomore.
"Yeah."
"Wanna be at least 21?"
Mary grinned at her.
"That’s what my fake ID says."
She laughed, a tinkling thing.
"You got anything against strip clubs?"
Mary furrowed his brows at her.
"Uh…what’s the right answer here?"
She shoved him playfully.
"Do you want a job?"
"Yeah?"
"Then say no."
"No. No problems with strip clubs." He squinted at her. "Are they looking for male strippers?"
She laughed again.
"Definitely not." She canted her head at Mary. "I mean, you're very pretty, Mare. I could probably put you on as one of the girls…even with these triple As," she flicked playfully at his nipple, which had him grunting and batting at her, "but I was thinking more behind the scenes."
Mary held up his arm and made a weak muscle.
"I don’t think I’d be much of a bouncer, Mands."
"You said you’d wash dishes, sweep floors and shit, right?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, the club I work at—"
"The club at you what now?"
Mandi gave him a strange look.
"Yeah. The strip club I work at."
Mary’s eyes bugged out.
"As a…waitress?"
"As a stripper, Mary. Duh." At his dumbfounded look she shook her head. "It’s kind of extra credit, as a dance major. I’m going to turn it into my thesis. Plus, I make hella bank."
She swept her arm across the park that made up her college "campus."
"How else do you think I can afford this rock-and-roll lifestyle? Not all of us are here on scholarship or mom and dad’s dime."
She tilted her head at him.
"I thought you’d get it."
When Mary didn't respond, she touched his shoulder.
"Mare. I know you don't go here."
"W-what…? I…"
He looked at her, wide-eyed as the blood drained from his face.
"Hey, it's ok. I'm not gonna tell anybody. Not if you don't want me to."
Mary looked down. "Thanks." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You know that means I've got no address."
Mandi bumped his shoulder and waved his words away.
"A lot of the girls dance. Paddy is used to dorm rooms as addresses. You can use mine."
Mary looked at her, hoping he could convey every ounce of gratitude he was feeling.
She grinned and punched him in the shoulder.
"So, you up for it? Sweeping floors and bussing tables?" She leveled a look at him. "Cleaning up puke?"
Anything.
"Fuck, I’m desperate, Mands. I’ll hold their hair back if it means a paycheck."
"That’s the spirit!"
***
Mary was sure Patrick was part of the mob—or at least in cahoots. The guy had taken one look at Mary’s ID and had said, "But how old are you really?" and Mary had said, "Nineteen."
Patrick had thrown up his hands. "Well, you ain’t gonna be serving alcohol anyway, kid. Your job is to do whatever I tell you. Some asshole breaks a bottle, you clean up the glass so the girls don’t hurt themselves. Some idiot ralphs all over the toilet seat, you scrub the shit out of that fucker. A bachelor party leaves a table a hot mess, you better be out there clearing off the table for the next one, got it?"
Mary had nodded.
"You show up at 5 to help the girls set up the bar. You stay til whenever it takes to close down—but you only get paid 'til 2am—and you get an hour to eat, unpaid. You don’t bother the girls, and," Patrick had leaned in, "you don’t steal from me."
Mary had gulped and nodded emphatically.
Patrick had jabbed a finger at him. "That includes the booze. If I get fucked because some snot-nosed, underage kid is drinking with my good friends Jim and Johnnie, I’m gonna be very put out."
"Got it, sir."
"Don’t call me sir. I’m Paddy to my friends, so you can call me Patrick."
"Yes, Patrick."
Patrick had looked him over.
"You get paid as an independent contractor just like the girls, so you gotta deal with your own taxes, you got that? I’ll start you at $10 an hour."
Mary’s eyes had gone wide. Back home he was lucky to get 5.
"Ten…?"
Patrick had tilted his head again.
"No, you’re right, 12. Do a good job, and I’ll think about raising it to 15."
Mary had to physically stop his jaw from dropping.
"You do weeknights for now so if you fuck up it’s not that much of a problem. If you don’t fuck up and the girls don’t hate you, you can get weekends. Deal?"
Mary had sat up straighter. "Deal." He’d held his hand out, but Patrick had just looked at it until Mary pulled it back into his side.
"Ariel vouched for you, so I’m giving you a shot. Don’t make her regret it."
Mary had shaken his head as Patrick had handed him some forms to fill out.
"Come back at 4 tomorrow with these and we’ll get you started. Now, get out, I got shit to do."
Mary had taken the forms and skedaddled.
Mandi was outside waiting for him, all smiles.
"Did you get it?"
"Yeah, but fuck—your boss is scary."
"Nah, he’s a teddy bear."
***
The job was awful.
The puke was an almost nightly occurrence, and by the end of the first week, little cuts covered Mary’s hands from the broken glass. The customers were loud, rowdy, and acted as if their mother was going to clean up after them.
Mary swore he would never get the beer smell out. It now lived in his soul.
One dude punched Mary and broke his nose for no reason Mary could tell before the bouncers dragged the guy away. The girls gave him some tampons to stop the bleeding, and Mary finished his shift.
Patrick paid Mary in cash at the end of every week with a "It’s your job to report that, not mine," and at the end of the month, Patrick bumped Mary up to $15/hr. He worked 5 days a week because, according to Patrick, "The Lord gave us a day of rest, and you get one day off per week."
Mary never reported a single cent to the IRS.
The girls loved him, and joked that Patrick had gotten them a pet. They showed him winged eyeliner and smokey eyes and how to contour. They guffawed when they watched him try out their shoes like a newborn deer. On slow nights, they tried to show him pole techniques.
He saw the gang less and less because by the time they were getting out of class, he was going into work, and when he was done work, they were crawling into bed. Fortunately, the desk sitters seemed to forget that he wasn’t an on-campus "student" and didn’t even bother signing him in anymore. There were a few sticklers, but Mary found that—while back home he was less than scum—here, he attracted all the right kinds of attention…and a smirk with the right compliment went a long way.
By the time their school year ended, Mary had saved up $1,000 (and he needed to transfer his money out of sock bank and into the ripped lining of his jacket).
Even though they didn't know just how much they'd saved him, Mary showed up on the last day as thanks to help them all move their stuff into family cars or rented trucks. They hugged him goodbye and said to ring them next semester.
Mandi bopped him on the nose and told him to keep his nose clean.
Mary took a sublet in Allston with 2 BU kids and a Berkley grad student. The "room" was a closed-in porch with a sleeping bag left by the last resident—but it was $400 a month until September, utilities included.
At first, Mary didn't know why the gang was so snobby about Allston, but the summer seemed to be one continual party. It didn't matter what day Mary got up, there were always broken beer bottles and stale beer on their front stoop, and the apartment had a designated watering can for washing away the vomit that dripped down from the top porches to their own.
But he took it in stride, and when he wasn’t at the strip club or sleeping, he was partying with the BU kids, or letting the Berkley grad show him better string fingering techniques.
Mary still tried to get out to The Pit with what groceries he could spare, but Katie had moved on with some of the others to do a protest tour with an activist street band that had come through town, and without her or the gang, it made Mary feel lonely.
By the end of the summer, Mary had saved up enough money for first, last, and security. He even had some left over to buy more than ramen and some new clothes. To Mary, it felt like a million dollars. He rented a garden-level apartment in the cheap part of Jamaica Plain for September 1st and spent that entire day with the BU dudes driving around in their rented truck for Allston Christmas’s best furniture finds.
Mary ended up with a mattress that he hoped on a wish and a prayer didn’t have bedbugs, a mismatched set of dishes, plastic drawers that were slightly warped, and a broken futon frame he swore he would fix. Throw in a few sets of slightly used string lights, and Mary’s cave felt downright homey.
When the gang got back, he simply told them he’d dropped out.
"Yeah, I just don’t think college is for me. Music’s my real passion, you know?"
Alex had groaned.
"I knew that Berkley kid was gonna be a bad influence on you."
Mary shrugged.
"My grades were shit anyway. But I’m still around, you know. The strip club’s only a block from campus."
"Because we saw you so much then," deadpanned Billy.
"Hey! Stop piling on Mary," said Vanity. "He’s following his path."
Mary shot her a wide smile.
"Thanks, Vanity."
Patrick finally gave him a little more leeway with his days off, and Mary started taking Saturday night to join the gang in Harvard Square for the shadow cast of Rocky Horror. One of Aaron’s classmates, Amber, was in it, and they all wanted to support her.
Mary felt that something again. That thing that told that this was his place and his people. This eclectic group who got up in front of strangers every week in their underwear for free enthralled Mary.
He and Amber bonded immediately, and Mary began going even without the gang. The cast welcomed him in as an honorary groupie, and Mary's friendship with the gang waned. There was still Mandi to cavort with at the strip club, but now when Mary wasn't there, he was at any one of the Rocky crew's apartments getting high and playing dress up.
"You’ve got such a Look, Mare," sighed Amber. "I’d kill for your cheekbones."
"I’d kill for your tits."
She slapped him playfully. "Don’t be gross."
"No, I’m serious. Someone once put it in my head that I'd be a hot chick."
The girls had giggled and proceeded to dress him up in bras and corsets with cutlets. They added a wig, and the glo-up surprised even Mary.
Still buzzed, they went out for girl’s night and hit up all the bars in Fenway and flirted their way to free shots from the dude bros before batting their falsies at bouncers to let them into the clubs ahead of the line and without the cover.
The cutlets eventually became a nuisance—and soon they were all flapping them about above their heads as they danced—but Mary had loved the feel of the lace and satin corsets against his skin.
When they’d all collapsed in a pile at the end of the night, Mary wondered if they’d tell him where to get some lingerie for himself.
***
By August, Mary was ready to quit the strip club.
He was tired of cut fingers (they were making it hard to play the guitar he’d bought), the drunks, and the sick everywhere. Now that he had a little cushion, he thought maybe he could at least find something with better hours.
Mandi had graduated and was well into a summer internship at Disney in hopes they’d bring her on as a dancer.
Alex had also graduated and moved out to LA to make it as a film editor.
Vanity and Aaron had started dating after finals, and they had moved in together in Cambridgeport for their last year.
Billy had stopped going to classes before dropping out altogether. No one seemed to know what happened, and when they called his home, his mother just said he was unavailable.
There didn’t seem to be much reason to stick around the Grid anymore, and it was a bitch of a commute back to his place if he wasn’t going to hang out with the Rocky crew. He landed a job at a record store that was walking distance to his apartment.
Patrick seemed surprisingly sad to see him go, saying, "Ah, the good ones smart up," and gave him a $500 bonus for not "fucking up."
Tim, one of the older Rocky people, turned out to not live too far from him, and when Mary started hanging out there, so did the party.
Now that Mary was no longer shackled by the strip club’s hours, his world opened a few more degrees. He spent his nights dressing up while he watched the cast rehearse. (When he showed them a move or two he learned from the women at the club, they tried to get him to do a guest star as Frank. But Mary had shaken his head and said that wasn’t the kind of performing he wanted to do.)
When they weren't rehearsing, they dragged Mary to TT The Bear’s, The Middle East, and The Milky Way Lounge for underground shows. They took him to fetish night at ManRay after a trip to Hubba Hubba for pleather and lingerie, and Mary made a lot of new friends.
Sometimes, Mary would show up to work straight off a night out in his club clothes, eyeliner smudged and lipstick smeared. It should have got him fired, but his boss just shrugged.
"I used to keep rockstar hours too."
Mary still wore all his old vestiges—his battle vest and his ripped jeans—it was just that now he sometimes added a corset and heels.
Wherever Katie was now, he hoped she knew he was still fucking their beauty standards.
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ry.omen Insta
Answer Me This
I practically vibrate the entire way back to our place. I'm still trying to wring information out of the internet like it's too-wet clothes, but the only thing I accomplish is making myself motion sick on the bus, so I put my phone back in my pocket and breath through my nose.
When I get home, Mary is sprawled across the couch in his pjs with various limbs hanging over sides and edges as he watches some extreme sport show on my laptop.
I wonder if he just got up, but I see the start of dinner on the stove, so I decide not to snark at him.
"Hey," he says without looking up.
I am, however, gonna need some answers on "Heroes."
I gently close the laptop, and he meets my eyes.
"What?"
I climb onto the couch, and Mary’s limbs recede like vines to make room for me as I scroll through my phone to my photo app where I’ve saved screenshots.
"Lucy," I say in a terrible accent, "you have some ‘splaining to do!"
Mary squints at me and takes my phone, his expression morphing into one of surprise.
"Shit, babe. Where’d ya find these??"
"So they are you!"
He chuckles.
"Christ…I haven't thought about these in fucking years."
"Mind telling me what the fuck?" I ask, my hands on my hips.
I'm only half joking.
Mary grimaces at me.
"Ah."
"I'm gonna need more than that, mister."
He rubs the back of his neck.
"Fuck, you know those were hard times for me."
I know about his family, the homelessness. I know he tried out a lot until he found a life that fit. He'd given me the overviews with occasional anecdotes filled with names I never remembered.
But none of them included naughty pictures.
I worm my way under his arm.
"Yeah, I know, Mare."
His hand strokes down my arm.
"I mean, shit. I was kinda an asshole, you know?"
I wrap an arm around his chest.
"You're still kind of an asshole, Goore."
"Thanks."
"No problem."
When he doesn't say more, I poke him hard in the side.
"I’m literally dying here."
He laughs a little.
"Fine. But you gotta remember you asked."
Model Behavior
One day, Mary was walking down the street on his way to drinks with the new friends he'd made the weekend before. It was a good day. He wasn’t hungover as fuck, his makeup was only smudged artfully, and he was pretty sure he was going to get laid.
A guy in a leather jacket and tight jeans maybe a few years older than Mary stopped him on the street.
"Hey, man! I love your style."
Mary batted his eyelashes at him. "Thanks, dude."
"You ever think of dark modeling?"
Mary squinted his eyes at him.
"Dark what now?"
"You know—modeling but like," he gestured up and down Mary’s form, "for dark beauties. Show the world beauty isn’t cookie cutter."
"For like what? A website or some shit?"
The guy dug into his pocket, pulled out a card case, and handed one to Mary.
Heroes Greg Karson, Photographer/Web Design Butera School of Art
Actually, Mary had heard of this. It was a zine about the local happenings around town—concerts, art shows, parties, etc. There was a stack of them next to "Rrriot!" in the record shop. He’d flipped through one occasionally, mostly interested in the band reviews.
"We’re really on the lookout for anyone with the right look. You know, wear stuff you already own."
"So like a street fashion spread?"
"Well, we might do a little more with it, but—you know how it is. Most of the budget goes toward printing costs."
Mary perked up.
"Would I be paid?"
Greg laughed.
"Peanuts, my dude. But yeah. Even if it’s a T token. You interested, then?"
"Hell yeah!"
"Mind if I take a few test shots."
Mary smirked at Greg.
"How do you want me?"
"Just natural."
Putting his hands in his pockets, Mary arched his back and gave Greg his best snotty hipster face.
Greg dug out a digital camera from his carrying case and took a dozen or so pictures of Mary from different angles while telling him to turn this way or that.
Afterwards, the two of them huddled over the camera and scrolled through the shots.
"Aw yeah, this one. I love the attitude. The guys are gonna love it. You have a number where we can reach you?"
Mary gave him the number of the record shop. (His apartment had a phone, but he’d never gotten around to wanting to pay for service.)
Later, he and Amber looked up the Angelfire website on the back of the card. It was one page that contained the mission statement, bios of the creators, and locations to pick up the zine.
"Omigod—you’re gonna become a famous model, Mare!"
"Yeah, right. You know most of it ends up in the trash, right?"
But when Ben called, Mary said he was game. He directed Mary to a co-op in a converted warehouse in Dorchester, and Mary brought his favorite clothes in a borrowed duffle.
A girl in cat pajamas opened the door and pointed at a set of metal stairs with her cereal spoon.
On the second floor, Mary found Greg setting up a makeshift studio. A girl with multiple piercings and yarn dreads leaned against the wall in her black babydoll dress.
Mary sidled up to her.
"You here to model, too?"
She gave him an unimpressed once-over.
"I’m the art director, asshole."
Mary flushed hard as she turned to Greg.
"Couldn’t find one with brains?"
She turned back to Mary.
"I don’t know if you thought this would be a good way to meet chicks or what, dude. But I’m letting you know right now that I’m here on my day off to make sure this adheres to our aesthetic, so if you're not serious, fuck off."
Mary rubbed the back of his neck.
"Shit, sorry. I was expecting a dude named Ben."
She waved her hand in the air as if dispelling Ben.
"The Bens are morons. Good idea, terrible execution. I’m here to make sure we remain true to the idea of 'Heroes,' so don’t fuck up my shoot." She gave him a once over. "Christ. You have any experience?"
Greg turned from where he was testing the white balance.
"Angelique, stop harassing the talent. We get it, you have a degree from RISD."
Angelique snorted.
"As if I don't hear you going on and on about being a professional photographer. 'Hey, lemme shoot your portfolio, baby.' Whatever. As if we're not your only professional credit."
"Hey—you wanted a photographer for peanuts? You got me. You wanted models for peanuts? You got him."
Mary gave her his full snaggle-toothed grin.
"I take T tokens."
Angelique sighed, then pasted on a smile.
"Hi! So happy you’re here!" Her smile drooped. "You got your wardrobe in there?"
"Yeah."
Mary handed her the duffle, and she handed him release forms.
"Here: sign these"
She pawed through his offerings.
"Not bad, not bad." She pulled out a corset and his heeled boots. "We'll keep you in your jeans and have you wear your jacket over your corset. Cool?"
Cool.
The shoot was as professional as a shoot in a warehouse in what Mary was taking to usually be a living room could be. Angelique directed Greg with what she wanted. Greg called out positions and expressions for Mary to pose in.
It was surprisingly hard work, and by the end of a solid hour, his smirking lip was getting tired. Angelique and Greg scrolled through the shots, murmuring to themselves and nodding.
Mary waited—greeting at the other inhabitants as they squeezed by on their way either up or down—until Angelique approached him.
"That’ll do. You mind if we post on our website?"
Mary preened.
"Yeah, that’s kosher."
She handed him a pen and pocket notebook.
"Write down a quick bio."
He scribbled down a quick elevator pitch
Into general skulking and metal \m/
and handed the notebook back to her.
"Great, thanks."
She handed him a $20 bill, her eyes skimming him up and down.
"Next time we should show off those hip bones. Just jeans, I think."
Mary perked up. "Next time?"
"We’ll call you."
***
"Omigod, omigod!"
Amber perched on the record store counter, flipping through "Heroes," as Jon peered over her shoulder.
"Mary…look at you!"
Mary tried to swallow his smug smile.
Failed.
"Yeah. I’m hot shit, ain’t I?"
She bopped him on the nose with the newsprint.
"Don’t be vain."
He showed her his toothy smile.
"I like to think of it as confidence."
"So did Icarus."
Mary snorted and went back to putting prices on the new CDs.
"The camera loves you," said Jon, who was always quiet and reserved as you please…until he put on Frank’s corset and heels.
Mary had tried flirting with him, but Jon always ducked his head and played it off.
"Thanks, man," said Mary, giving him a softer smile.
"So??"
"So what, Amber?"
"Are you gonna do it again?"
Mary shrugged.
"I mean, if they call me, sure."
But he was kind of hoping they would.
When the next issue came out weeks later, Mary stared at the cybergoth on the pages and felt himself deflate. Listlessly, he thumbed through the delicate print, barely skimming the section devoted to the World/Inferno Friendship Society’s set he’d been at the week before.
He set it down with a sigh before he picked up his guitar and plucked out a tune he was trying to coax into a riff.
By the time a Ben called again, Mary had given up the modeling thing as a one-off.
"Hey, dude—thought maybe you guys forgot about me," Mary said in a teasing tone.
The Ben on the other end chuckled.
"It’s like herding cats to get shit out. Nah, dude—we definitely want you to be one of our regulars. You in for next Saturday?"
He was.
***
Over the course of a year, "Heroes" had Mary come out multiple times for shoots. Mainly, Mary wore his own clothes and did his own makeup, but occasionally, Angelique wanted something specific.
"How comfortable are you with boudoir shots?"
"With what?"
"Like a pinup, but more…saucy than sexy."
I'd pose nude if you paid me enough.
(Sure, he was a noodle boy, but he knew he had the goods.)
"Yeah, I’m cool with that."
Angelique brightened at him.
"Great!"
She picked up a set of complicated leather garters and thrust them at him.
"Put these on."
Mary had only ever worn lace garters—mostly out to clubs, but occasionally under his ripped jeans for an extra pop—but he found he liked these even more, liked the way they emphasized his thighs.
"Hey—where’d you get these…?"
(He was already thinking of what he could pair them with for goth night.)
"Local leatherworker. He mostly does pieces for Renn Fairs, but he'll also do custom. I can give you his info."
She led Mary into what was clearly someone's bedroom.
"Don't fuck anything up, or Joye will never let us use this again."
Mary shot her his best shark smile.
"Hey, I only mess up the sheets if someone asks."
Angelique gave him a flat look and called for Greg.
(But when he draped himself over the bed and told Greg to "Paint me like one of your French girls," Mary could have sworn she almost smiled.)
On one memorable occasion, she brought in a guy whose rope bondage demo she watched at a sex convention.
"Put on some of that lingerie and we'll truss you up. You ok with that, Goore?"
Mary ran his fingers over the coils and gave her a wolfish smile.
"You know I'm game for anything."
She gave him a vulpine smile of her own then, and she looked down at him from the height of her platformed boots.
"Good. I thought you should be submissive for once."
Mary had no witty rejoinder for that.
He listened with interest as the guy carefully explained what he was going to do, complete with pictures, and he relaxed easily into the process. (They put bunny ears on him, and it would be much, much later that he got that particular joke. Well played, Angelique.)
The ropes hadn’t let him do much posing, but Mary had kind of liked the constriction, and his thoughts were already on asking Amber to help him create a more versatile version for fetish night.
He’d left that day with a new kink…and the guy’s number.
"Why not just do one big shoot?" he asked another time. "Get it all done in one big bang!"
Angelique held up his garments to eyeball over him.
"Honey, we never even know if there's gonna be a next issue. The Bens spend most of the time arguing. My god you should hear them—Ben bankrolls the whole thing, so he says he should get final say on shit, and Benji wants total artistic control because it was his idea, because 'he's the graphic designer', and because it's his Kinko's employee discount they use."
She gave Mary a curled-lip smile as she tossed a few items at him.
"In the end it's this bitch you're looking at who gets shit done."
Mary began to change (they were long past modesty).
"How'd you get involved?"
"Went to school with Benji."
"Ben too?"
"Neg. The Bens are childhood friends. Ben works some cushy start-up job, so Benji lets him bankroll them both. Rent, utilities—everything. I love Benji to death, but he's a giant mooch."
"Shit, that must be nice."
Angelique shrugged. She stood back to appraise Mary's look.
"It's fucking lame. But it least it gets us fucking paid."
Mary didn't say I'd do this for free. Instead, he struck a pose and said, "I'm just happy for the exposure."
Angelique rolled her eyes and went to fetch Greg.
***
That year and a half would become a nonstop party with Mary as one of the VIPs; he wouldn't say no to anything—be it casual sex, club appearances, or whatever drug the current pretty thing was offering him in the bathroom.
But recognition started slow.
At first, it was customers who would leaf through the zine and recognize Mary.
Then, it was the occasional scenester who’d stop him on the street in JP as he walked about, and Mary would pose for grainy cell phone pics.
Soon, he was being approached at shows and clubs. The first time it happened, Mary was high off his new infamy and ready to please. A woman in a black bandage bra and pleated skirt with bondage straps approached him, and Mary was already thinking of what he could do with those.
"You look like that guy in ‘Heroes’!" she'd shouted to him over the music.
Mary had flashed her a crooked smile and leaned in.
"Maybe I am the guy in ‘Heroes’."
She'd given him an exaggerated once over before sidling closer with hooded eyes.
"I dunno…you're wearing way more clothes."
Mary had pulled his mesh top down by the collar in a tease as he'd curled over her.
"Take me somewhere more private and I’ll let you do a comparison."
She'd compared him all night.
And that was before he and the other "Heroes" models formed their own posse.
The Bens had thrown a BBQ and had invited everyone they'd ever met. There were people packed into their little 2 bedroom in Brighton, spilling down the back stairs, and equally packed into the little square of shared backyard. Ben had taken the 12-pack of 'Gansett beers Mary had brought, then introduced him to the other dark models.
"Now you're all here!" said Ben. He slung his arm around Mary. "Guys, this is Mary. Mary this is Mayhem, Lesley, Lola, and Bryan."
Mayhem was a rivethead, and Mary took to him instantly, but he was wary of the others. Lesley was the cybergoth who'd been in the first issue after him, and Mary still felt a bit salty at them, even though Mary knew by now the Bens rotated the models. Lola, the romantic goth, reminded him enough of Vanity that he felt guilty for losing touch with her and had him projecting a little. Bryan was a metalhead, so: competition.
Mary had thought they'd get along like cats and water, but weed, booze, and "Never Have I Ever" went a long way to creating a shared bond.
And there it was again. That pull. The magnetic force telling him that he'd found the place he was supposed to be. They quickly coalesced into their own pack, calling themselves the "Deathbutantes" (because they always killed it when they debuted for the night).
It had been rare for Mary to miss Friday and Saturday night shenanigans with the Rocky crew, but now, every night was Friday night. There was always a show or a concert or club that one of them knew about—and if they couldn't get lucky with the local color, they'd just go home with each other.
Mayhem taught Mary what Lola jokingly called the "grab a bat" dance, and the two of them cut quite the picture on the dance floors.
Lesley took to Lola, and the two of them could always be counted on for scintillating conversation in dark corners when Mary's limbst needed a break from flailing about.
The clubs weren't really Bryan's scene—take him to a sticky hole in the wall with concrete floors and a stage close enough to feel the sweat from the bands, and he was in heaven—but he liked to come along to hang. He'd drink PBRs, rub Lola's feet when she invariably abandoned her heels for the evening, and argue with Mary about the purity of death metal.
Mayhem and Lola weren't really into live music of the screaming kind, so—while Lesley, Bryan, and Mary bounced off each other in the mosh pits—they'd save a "home" base at one the bartops.
Amber noticed Mary's diminishing presence and stopped by the record shop to call him out.
"So you're not dead! Could've fooled me."
Mary was organizing the albums into order, and he grunted at her.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm a cad. I'll make it up to you."
"You missed game night."
"Sorry. Jethro Tull played some tiny venue in nowhere Mass, and Bryan was salivating. I mean, Jethro Tull. Can you blame me?"
He looked at her, arms out wide in supplication. But she just blinked at him.
"You have no idea who Jethro Tull is, do you?"
"Sorry, dude. But christ, Mare. You should have invited me. I'd've gone. Maybe I would have even liked them. Now you'll never know."
"I could just lend you an album."
"Nope! The moment passed. Too late!"
Mary riffled through the stock and shoved a Jethro Tull CD into her hands.
She tapped it against her thigh.
"So, when do I get to hang?"
"I can get us into 80s night free."
"No, I mean, with your cooler friends. Your 'murder models', or whatever."
"You wanna hang out with the Deathbutantes?"
Amber scrunched her nose.
"That's so fucking pretentious."
Mary kind of liked it.
"Dunno if they're really your scene."
"Oh? And what's my scene?"
"Musical theater on crack."
She mock gasped at him, "Called out!" before smacking him with the CD. "Whatever. You love musical theater on crack."
Mary draped his arm around her shoulders.
"Yeah, I do. But I don't live it, you know? You guys have your niche—and fuck…I love to visit—but it's not mine."
Amber looked up at him, her expression serious.
"So the Dumbutantes are your niche?"
Mary shrugged and went back to shelving.
The Rocky crew had been good to him. They'd taken him under their wing, no questions asked, and helped him realize things about himself. Tim had taken him to the ER when Mary had come down with a serious case of the flu. Matty had taught him the basics of sewing. Gretchen had held him after a bad trip. Omar and he had had many drunken heart-to-hearts about their shitty home lives.
And Amber was his best friend. She'd been his #1 cheerleader for years and had never been afraid to call him out on his shit.
So yeah, he loved the Rocky crew…but they laughed at anyone who took anything too seriously. Mary would show up to game nights in his latest creation—with everyone else in pjs or jeans & hoodies—and they'd tease him about trying to impress the wrong people. He'd try to talk about the newest guitar god he'd been mainlining, and they'd make snoring noises at him.
How could he explain the kinship he felt with the Deathbutantes? That they were as serious about music as he was, that they just…got why he felt the need to dress the way he did to express the way he felt inside on his outside.
Instead, he said, "I'm just trying shit out, Ambs." He quirked his eyebrow at her. "I gotta do something while you guys do your real-person jobs."
(Amber had recently started as a junior marketing assistant at the American Repertory Theater. "Purely mercenary," she'd said. "Maybe it'll give me a leg up during auditions.")
She made a disgruntled scoffing noise in the back of her throat.
"Fuck, don't remind me. I actually gotta go to bed a reasonable hour now."
"Don't worry." Mary winked at her. "I'll keep ya honest."
"That sounds a lot like my head in a toilet, Mare."
"I'll hold your hair back."
She gave him a good-natured shove, and he pretended to cower.
If she wanted to cross pollinate, who was Mary to stand in her way? So, he invited her out the next time the Deathbutantes went to a show, and it went exactly like he thought it would.
They disliked her, and she was equally unimpressed. They thought she was too loud and frenetic, and she thought they had no sense of humor.
"I fucking told you," Mary had snorted as they sat on the curb sharing a clove.
"Shut the fuck up, Mare."
But she'd put her head on his shoulder.
"They make you happy, though. So I guess I approve. Just as long as I don't have to play nice."
Mary still hung out with the Rocky crew—there were still game nights and drug-fueled sex parties and theater games—but the Deathbutantes introduced him to the underground scene. They always seemed to have insider knowledge about the best up-in-coming bands and the secret shows. Theme nights at the goth clubs were always a must, and they rarely missed one. Sometimes, Angelique would crash, and they'd take the commuter rail to Providence to party at Club Hell before collapsing in a sweaty, smeary pile at a friend of a friend's hole in the wall.
As a bit player in the Rocky crew, Mary had been another made-up face in the crowd. As a certified member of the Deathbutantes, Mary became the face.
They all did.
The owners loved them because they bought round after round at the bar, and if word got out that the Deathbutantes were there, their admirers came to spend money as well. The employees loved them because they were fun and talked to them as equals. The clientele loved them because they were pretty young things.
Sometimes, though, Mary wasn't in the mood to party or get laid, so he talked to the DJs instead. He'd buy them rounds and stay past closing to help them pack up while they talked about the history of punk and 80s new wave and nu metal. There was one in particular, Dave, that Mary even considered a friend.
The two of them would sit in the club past closing, sharing a whiskey and talking about life while the bartenders closed down and cashed out. Occasionally, Dave's other friends would be around, and they'd all walk back to his place; he'd fool around spinning in his home studio, and they'd drink box wine as they danced and laughed before Mary would have to sit on the ground in an intoxicated exhaustion, good for only thumbing through Dave's vinyl collection.
Mary was just happy to talk shop with another music aficionado, but Angelique had pointed out that he should leverage his minor clout.
They'd been waiting for Greg to finish setting up, and Mary had been struggle city after a particularly hard night out. It was all he could manage to sit there quietly and hope some god would put him out of his misery.
"You need to get your shit together," Angelique had said out of nowhere.
Mary had cracked a puffy eye and had slowly (as to not bring the nothing in his stomach back up) turned his head to her.
"As if I haven't seen your melted ass on the floor wanting to die."
"Fuck, Mary. You've turned it into an art form."
He'd closed his eyes and given her the finger, but that hadn't stopped her.
"You wanna be a rockstar, boy? You can't just sit on your ass and hope the right person on the right night hears you. You're effervescent and charismatic—heads turn when you walk into a room and not just because of your skinny jeans—but you need more than air, Mary, which is all you are right now."
"Fuck you, Angela."
She'd clapped in front of his face, and she was lucky he didn't Exorcist bile all over her.
"You're a fucking pain in my ass, Goore. I'm doling out the good stuff, try not to bite my hand off, k?"
"All right, all right!"
"You wanna start that band? You wanna get play and amass fans? Well, make that demo you're always droning on about and give it to those DJs you're alway fanboying over. Fucking network, Goore."
At the time, Mary had been too hungover to care, but her advice would sink in…
Eventually.
For the time being, Mary was content. He loved the attention, and it made him feel invincible, made him feel like it was finally His Time. And he was going to make up for every slight, every unfair situation, and every beat down with sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll.
With his newfound nightlife, Mary's day job had become an afterthought. He started sleeping through opening shifts, but with the extra foot traffic Mary brought to the store, his boss seemed resigned to let Mary slide (after a stern talking to and a pay docking).
The shadow cast had started using him as a mascot of sorts, and he was happy to show up on Saturday nights and hype up the waiting line with a pseudo striptease. (Even if it was sometimes to kick off his evening with the Deathbutantes and not hang with the cast after.)
Mary started a band ("auditioning" any and all of the many admirers who said they’d be more than happy to join it), and after a few false starts and a couple of lineup changes, they began working on an EP. (At least, when Mary showed up to rehearsal, they did.)
A Boston Phoenix reporter got wind of the Deathbutantes and called around about doing a story on them. The Bens were excited about the exposure that meant for their zine, and Angelique and Greg were excited about what it could mean for their careers. Mary did a brief interview over the phone where he answered questions about his style and talked about his dream of making his band a household name.
Mary saw his name up in lights, and he was reaching for it, full speed ahead.
But then things turned.
The story fell through at the last minute with no further explanation or contact by the reporter.
His boss finally fired him after Mary showed up too high to function too many times—or not at all.
The shadow cast had a turnover, and suddenly he was old news—a cringey hanger-on.
A trip to the clinic and a round of antibiotics for an STI had him way more wary of who he hooked up with.
"Heroes" lost momentum when imitators popped up and Ben cut off the gravy train.
Angelique moved to NYC for "better opportunities," and the Bens took their brand of counterculture to Portland, OR.
Greg took down the website when he got offered a legit job as an apprentice at a food magazine, and that was that.
The physical zines were cheap things, most ending up papering the sidewalk after trash day or lining the bottom of cages. Without the online presence, did Mary's "modeling career" even exist?
Mary was a little sad to see the era go, but when he woke up in Maine on the hood of some girl's car and only a hazy recollection of how they'd gotten there, he was beginning to see Angelique's point. He needed to get his shit together if he was ever going to become a rockstar. And frankly, he kind of felt like he needed to spend an entire month eating carrots and hydrating.
The 24/7 party had always been an ephemeral thing; it had been sand passing through his hands in a finite amount as he'd tried to hold onto it
He put himself on detox, and waking up sober for the first time in months felt like a revelation. And as it turned out, playing the guitar without badly shaking hands was way, way easier.
He found another job in another music store, and his starter!band was bringing butts into the smaller venues, like Toad.
He still had his old Rocky friends and the Deathbutantes. The club and venue owners still let him in for free, and Dave was always happy to give his demos a spin. By anyone's else's measure, he was steal one of the scene's darlings.
But Mary was beginning to realize that he needed to stop seeing himself as that scared kid who’d arrived in Boston 4 years ago with only a backpack, $72.57 to his name, and void where his family should be.
He needed to stop finding people to please into loving him.
Instead, he needed to live for himself and let them love him for who he was—fuck ups and all.
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@slimylayne
Epilogue
"Honestly, that’s probably the reason I even got a band together," he says. "I was still kind of shit at guitar, but people came to see ‘Model Mary’ perform in his underwear."
He shoots me a smirk.
"I’m sure there’re pictures out there of me looking more glam than metal. I kind of played up the whole pinup thing for a while."
"Fuck, I would kill, literally kill to see that."
He pulls me into his lap until I’m straddling him.
"I could open up my underwear drawer and show you right now."
"Goore, you temptress."
I lean down to kiss him, and his hands sneak under my shirt, but I pull away again.
"I kinda thought I knew all your torrid secrets by now. Shit, how come Dave's never needled you about it?"
After 2 years with him, I’m surprised I hadn't even heard a peep from his oldest friend.
Mary snorts.
"Dave would miss shit hanging off his nose. Great dude, amiable as fuck, but he's always had fucking tunnel vision for his music."
I smirk at him.
"Sounds like someone else I know."
Mary pulls a face at me, and I apply kisses to every line until he laughs and bats me away.
"But really, Mare—how come you never told me about your brief career in blue steel?"
He blows out a breath, his hands smoothing up my thighs.
"Fuck. Cuz maybe I was a little embarrassed at how off the rails I was then, ok? Didn't want you to know what I fuck up I was." He takes my hand and kisses my palm. "And even I know it's a shit move to pitch woo at someone by telling them about banging half of Boston."
I make a face at him, and he laughs.
"Yeah, that’s what I thought."
His hands rest on my waist.
"Christ, everything about that year's a bit fuzzy, and it was like 10 years ago. Sometimes it feels like it happened to someone else, honestly. And shit—most of those people aren’t even around anymore. College kids who moved on and 20-somethings that grew up and moved who knows where. I used to watch Amber have—what is it when it’s four people?—and now she lives in bumblefuck Pennsylvania with 3 kids. After she left, I just kinda drifted away from all that."
He shrugs, his eyes downcast.
"I’m sorry, Mare," I say as I smooth his eyebrows.
He shrugs again.
"I mean, we all kinda keep in touch. It's like the only reason I have Facebook."
"When was the last time you even signed into that?"
Mary grins at me.
"Lola's birthday."
"One of the models? What happened with them?"
Mary bites his lip and thinks.
"Mayhem found religion after an OD and kinda ghosted everyone. Lesley followed a girl to New Hampshire. Uh…Lola pursued a PhD for something sciencey involving renewable energy with sugar beets in Idaho, and Bryan moved back to Florida to care for his grandma, who raised him."
Mary leans his head back on the couch and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.
"I mean, shit. We were fucking babies back then. Head empty except for a good time and unlimited potential."
I run my fingers through his hair.
"You miss it?"
His eyes pop open to look at me.
"Fuck no. Not for a million dollars. Too many question marks." His eyes glint as he runs his hands down me. "I like what I got going on right here."
I wrap my arms around his shoulders and kiss his forehead. The fucking sap.
Mary picks up my phone and scrolls through the pictures again.
"Fuck. I used to be goddamn adorable, though. Half this shit wouldn’t even fit me anymore."
I squish his little potbelly, and he grunts at me indignantly.
"Do you still have any originals?" I ask.
He shakes his head, his eyes wistful and his smile sad.
"Nah. Got destroyed when my roof collapsed and leaked everywhere. Fuck, landlords are useless. Glad we fucking own now, babe."
He scrolls up, scrolls back down.
"Just these four?"
I nod.
"Yeah. They were the only ones I found—and I did a lot of searching."
"Christ, I think there were at least 10."
I smile ruefully at him. "It’s not gonna be long anyway before they make their way into the popular tags and shit starts coming out of the woodwork."
He tosses my phone onto the table.
"Whatever. Just shows that I’ve always been cool."
And then he’s kissing me again, his hand tangling in my hair.
"You know, I’m your family now, Mare. Just for you."
He brings my hand up and kisses it.
"Fuck, I know that. Why’dja think I put a ring on it?"
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beacon-lamp · 3 years
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do you have any thoughts on today's dream twit "controversy"? it seems like every day dream fans get attacked for having a little bit of fun on twitter by people telling them to get off the internet. like, spamming some nonsense words and getting it trending is silly but i don't think calling people "brainwashed" over it is remotely close to normal behavior. also, we're all stuck inside anyways so i think that's an excuse for people spending more time on twitter anyway.
hahaha ohhhh i’m not on mcyt twt or anything so i don’t really know what this particular instance you’re referring to but i feel like this shit happens like Every Other Week.  lmk if stan twt did something Problematic and i will Revise, but otherwise my thoughts are under the post
i gonna be honest, i think people just like being angry at other people for.  having a hobby?  an interest?  having fun?  honestly idk.  because mcyt twt is mostly teenagers who are trapped inside during a pandemic.  so yeah they’re gonna post about their interests.  and talk about it with other people who also share in that interest.  that’s literally like.  what a community is.
i get that it can be Annoying but i just genuinely don’t understand people’s Anger though.  Especially if they’re in their twenties or older.  why do they care so much about what a bunch of teenagers do with their time?   
“god they’re So Obsessive and Brainwashed” i’m sorry what?  i’ve made this point before but i think it bears repeating.  we’re always so quick to be like, oh CCs have lives outside their online presence because they’re Real People.  yeah same goes for Literally Everyone Else.  your online presence is only a fraction of who you are as a person.  so to judge someone just by their stan account or whatever is dumb.
also they’re Kids.  do people not remember what it was like to be 14?  idk just leave them alone.  i’m not at all on mcyt twt and i Never See It on my homepage unless i Actively Go Looking For It or check the trending hashtags.  leave teenagers alone.  there’s literally nothing else for them to do right now.  there are better things to do than calling high schoolers “childish” and “immature” for enjoying their hobbies on the internet.
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youarejesting · 3 years
Text
Mania.5
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[MASTER LIST] [Mania Master list]
Beta: N/A Rating: Mature 18+ Pairing: BTS OT7 Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Comedy, Omegaverse Words: 1.3k Blood types: Namjoon, Jhope, Jungkook, Yoongi (A) Taehyung (AB) Jin, Jimin and Yoongi (O) (Jimin in real life is an A blood type)
Summary: At eighteen everyone takes a blood test to find out their blood types. A, B, or O. Each blood type represents the person’s secondary gender Alpha, Beta or Omega and can be Dominant (+) or Recessive (-).
When small thin Yoongi receives his letter he doesn’t expect A+. There was no way he was an Alpha especially not a dominant. But as time passes he shows no Alpha nor Omega tendencies and frankly he doesn’t care. Working in his father’s electrical business helps pay the bills but Yoongi’s real passion is music.
One very hot day in the roof space of a luxury apartment that Yoongi is rewiring an intoxicatingly pleasant smell churns his insides and he finds himself in need of something to quench his thirst.
Warning: is a bit of a spicy chapter, gets a little smutty at the end.
[First] [Prev] [Mania] [Next]
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Yoongi couldn’t lift himself off the countertop, and he definitely was too scared to move to grab his pills, he felt a wetness soaking into his underwear and it made him squirm. He reprimanded himself for not bringing the stronger dose. How did this one not work, it had yesterday. Did his body try to overpower the suppressant? Or was it because these Alphas weren’t recessive?
These Alphas were dominant with strong and delicious pheromones. It was driving him crazy. But he had to move, leave or say something before something happened. Hoseok had shut the cupboard above Yoongi’s head and went to slide past again when Yoongi heard him inhale deeply.
“You smell good,” Hoseok grinned his voice as dark as he remembered when they met. Seokjin went to grab Yoongi, but upon hearing his desperate whine, Hoseok stopped him.
“Yoongi are you in heat?” Seokjin stressed this to him, Hoseok frowned, his hands shaking as he let go of Yoongi’s arm, “Do you need to go home?”
“It’s not a heat, I just feel weird,” Yoongi said, struggling to breathe, “It’s just heavy like I can’t get up.”
“You smell like the Beach,” Hoseok muttered while walking around the island, trying to put some space between them and Yoongi’s stomach stopped churning and he straightened out. Seokjin watched Yoong, who wiped some sweat and continued working.
“Yoongi your heats are unstable?” Seokjin let out a deep sigh, Yoongi was taking another tablet and could admit he was starting to feel a little better, but the nagging feeling was still there hidden in the pit of his stomach. “We should send you home while you are somewhat stable, I can get the car?”
“Wait, I am sorry,” Yoongi muttered, “But can I stay here, I feel more relaxed”
“I understand but until your heats are under control we cannot, let you stay here” Seokjin tried to reason with him. All Yoongi felt was rejection and he didn’t turn away from his work as he subtly brushed a tear away.
Hoseok could smell the tears and growled, “You are making him cry?”
“Hoseok, this decision doesn’t affect just us, there is the whole band to think about,” Yoongi thought of the whole band and felt a pang of jealousy that Jimin was in the backroom receiving a lot of attention, love, and praise, while he was out here feeling, empty, sick and rejected.
“What if I consent,” Yoongi admitted, finishing up the wiring and attaching the new power point to the wall, he was going slow, not wanting to turn around to face them embarrassed by his own confession.
“Well your consent helps but what about our consent, your heat affects the alphas judgment too, and then what about the other Omegas in this relationship?” Seokjin said
“Fine then, what if I consent to just you Seokjin, you aren’t affected by my pheromones like the Alphas are and I am within a comfortable state that I could definitely just leave unaffected?” Yoongi asked, gathering his things and moving to the dining room, “Just a hypothetical suggestion but would you let me stay with you?”
The older Omega squirmed in his seat, Yoongi could smell his arousal. It was like a sweet fig scent that warmed into a coconut and patchouli. Yoongi thought he smelt quite green like a garden.
“If I consent to you would you let me stay?” Yoongi breathed trying to keep his calm demeanor, if he came across too needy Seokjin might send him away. It was when the door to the hall opened that Yoongi knew he was in trouble, the scents, the sounds, and the feeling it made in his stomach.
It seemed he wasn’t the only one affected, Seokjin, was producing intense pheromones and Hoseok sighed “He consented when he wasn’t in heat, remember, so it should be okay right, Yoongi?”
Yoongi who had been kneeling on the table trying to install a new fan on the roof had doubled over breathing heavily against the dark wood. He couldn’t speak because of the force of the heat pressing down on him.
“You consented while you were sober, do you still consent?” Hoseok whispered, taking his hand it was like for a second everything eased and he was fine again, like Hoseok’s very presence calmed him.
“I mean I guess,” He said, his cheeks flushing, he was never ever one to beg and yet he was on the verge of tears if he couldn’t bury his face into Hoseok’s chest and breath in his beautiful calming scent.
“I will keep you safe?” Hoseok called for Namjoon, “Hey Namjoon-ah, your mate needs you”
Namjoon walked out in boxes and Hoseok scooped Yoongi off the table, “I hate being so weak, but something about this house and everyone in it makes me comfortable.”
Hoseok smiled at Yoongi’s muttering and carried him into the main bedroom dropping him on the very large mattress next to Jimin, Yoongi was coiling in pain. “Yoongi?” Jimin called reaching for the other Omega and planting a kiss on his lips. It was wet and his hands found Yoongi’s jumpsuit undoing the buttons quickly.
In the corner of the room, Yoongi saw Namjoon undressing Seokjin and kissing his neck, making the oldest Omega cry out and fidget. Yoongi looked up at Hoseok with pleading eyes. Hoping he could help relieve him of the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Do you want me to help you little Omega?” Hoseok grinned, teasing Yoongi who turned his head away flinching at the pain in his stomach. “You won’t get anything if you don’t speak up.”
“I don’t beg.” He muttered wincing again in pain the low dose pills took the edge off but his heat was still pretty strong. “You know already”
“That’s funny, I think I remember you begging last time, you were calling out so earnestly wanting someone to come and breed you, isn’t that right little Omega?” Hoseok teased some more.
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leerongrong · 4 years
Text
College Student!Jeno -
part of the NCT DREAM living the Y/N life collection.
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full name: lee jeno
age: 20 [international]
height: 177cm
lets meet the infamous lee jeno
jeno’s a cutie with an eye smile, tall, and handsome
he has passion for multiple things; loves helping people, feeding stray cats, being an all around sweetheart
his love for cats got him a job at the local pet shop in his hometown
he works 2 hours a day after school, immediately going straight to work
the owner, who’s a lovely grandma, loves him to pieces
treats him like her own grandson; squishing his cheeks, gifting him snacks to bring home and even adding a little more to his monthly paycheck
she tells him people visit their pet shop more because of him and jeno always smiles and declines the thought
“this pet shop was already busy even before i worked here.”
although she’s 100% sure its because he smiles at everyone that passes by
so its not a shocker that the guy has his own batch of admirers at school
seniors, juniors, the lunch lady- you name it
everybody who’s anybody knows and adores this prince charming
most of the girls in school even go out of their way to watch him when he plays soccer or dances
people stare at him with literal heart eyes and they’re confused because he never seems to notice anyone??
the most popular girl in his class once confessed her feelings and asked him out a date
but got turned down by jeno
“i’m sorry, i don’t like you that way. maybe we could just be friends?”
the whole school went into chaos,, because lee jeno just rejected the queen bee- and no one’s ever done that before
and they’ve been hunching its because jeno already has a girlfriend
a secret girlfriend who jeno doesn’t admit to anyone
lmao truth is-
it’s because jeno’s a fanboy who’s heart has been taken by an idol
who’s none other than you
you’re the sixth member of red velvet
lead vocalist, lead dancer and song writer
born and raised in california before you decided you wanted to be a kpop idol
your heart breaks everytime you remember that your parents never showed you their support
they kicked you out the moment you told them about becoming an idol
you worked yourself to the bone, working at 4 different places just to save money for yourself to fly to korea
and when you do, your spirits were dimmed
audition after audition you were cast out, companies rejecting you left and right
the only company that hasn’t called after your audition is SM Entertainment
and by now you’re just about ready to give up because you know there’s no way SM’s going to accept you if the other smaller companies didn’t even bat an eye
until your phone rings
you initially thought it was the landlord, calling for the umpteenth time demanding you pay your bills
picking up and noticing right away that it wasn’t the landlord, instead one of the higher ups from SM
you cried tears of joy when they told you that you passed
you train your hardest everyday, along side seulgi and debuting together after 6 years of being a trainee
okay you, yourself know and adore jeno
yes you read that right, a kpop idol who remembers and love her fans with all her heart
well its because jeno’s been there since the very beginning
he’s been there when you first debuted, he’s been supportive and he’s never left
and you know him by name because he’s ALWAYS been there
fansigns, concerts, showcases, you name it
jeno’s always been there to support you and your group as you grow
you’ve always had a little piece of him in your heart because he’s different from the usual more older male and female fans
how could he not?
you’ll never forget that summer after you went MIA because of your health issues
you saw jeno again after months and in your eyes, he wasn’t a boy anymore he was a man
yeri and joy teased you a hell lot after you said it
“of couse you love reveluvs and what’re the odds! jeno’s a reveluv too.”
despite their teasing, you’re sure his eyes were locked on you the whole concert
and jeno would agree.
he remembers being brokenhearted after receiving news that you were going on a hiatus because of your health
he spammed your twitter and instagram accounts with so many ‘get well soon’ wishes
and jeno’s a loyal guy, he would never leave the group he stans just because his bias is missing
although he can’t say it feels the same without you on the stage but he still continued to cheer you on through social media along with streaming your group
he was over the moon when they’d announced that you’re coming back with a full album and concert no less
going straight to his piggy bank and breaking it open just so he could watch your concert
time skip to a few months after
today’s a very special fansign for you
it may or may not have smth to do with the fact that today’s jeno’s birthday and you may have pulled some strings just so the fansign happens today
you hope and pray that you’‘ll get to meet him today of all days
its because you have bought him a few presents for his birthday and you hope to give it to him
you bought him a cartier love necklace along with some perfume, multiple polaroids of you with the members and a very special handwritten letter
the members supported you all the way, they knew of your infatuation with jeno and you can’t bring yourself to care if you lose some fake fans along the way
you know the other reveluvs saw the gift and you’re glad nobody complained
the fandom p much knew how jeno’s literally the first ever to stan your group
they ALL know his love for you
and they all agree that he deserves your presents
although you heard some girls whispering dirty things about him and you
“shouldn’t she love us all the same? what’s so special about him?”
“inconsiderate to her other fans”
they were shushed by true reveluvs, the ones that that knew about jeno and his story
besides,-most reveluvs go to fansigns in hopes of running into him because that boy his HANDSOME and they’re lowkey staning him too by this point sjksjsgd
your fist clenched so hard when said girls came up to you and asked for your autograph
your fake smile is as clear as day, and irene tuts at you when she sees you rushing them away to the other members
which you knew was very petty of you and could ruin the career you’ve worked hard for
and you’re scared of what it might mean for you but you won’t tolerate anyone talking about jeno like that
you try to hide your disappointment when you don’t see jeno, the fansigning almost coming to an end
the gifts you preapared for him are still on your right, untouched
yeri nudges you on your hand and you’re sure your face lit up when you see jeno at the end of the line
a fansite took a picture of the exact moment and it clearly showed your wide smile, you looked like a fan who’s going to meet her bias and not he other way around
you wait and are filled with jitters when jeno finally stands in front of you
you give him the normal greeting, smiling at his newly dyed brownish hair and hand him the gift
you giggle when you see his face bright red and he’s ducking his head trying to hide his smile and your heart literally melts at the sight of his smile
while jeno’s literally dying inside because- you? his ultimate bias just gave him a gift? on his birthday? which you remembered? even after all these years?
he tries so hard to hold in his smile and tears because in no way is he going to cry in front you and plenty other people that are ready to take pictures
and his heart jumps when you, the members, and the people around him sing him a happy birthday while clapping their hands
even the manager behind you is smiling a little
while your agency’s in mock panic because multiple hashtags are trending on twitter
along with the footage of you and jeno
#y/nxjeno
#youandjeno’sshipname
and while jeno couldn’t wish for a happier 20th birthday, he’s not sure he should be relieved because now he’s famous too
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cece-0708 · 3 years
Text
Ya Like Jazz
AO3 | Rating - G | Fandom - Miraculous Ladybug | 1K
Summary: “Ya like jazz?”
Chloe’s head snapped up as she dropped the mirror, clattering onto the table. The entire classroom burst into a fit of laughter, all of it directed at her.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Something had seemed… odd all morning.
When she’d woken up earlier, Chloé had felt like something big was going to happen today. She brushed the thought aside, though, in favour of focusing on pampering herself in preparation for school.
She was the amazing Queen Bee after all, and you never know when an adoring fan might ask for an autograph. Not that she’d actually allow them that pleasure.
As soon as Chloé stepped out of her limo, she handed her bag to Sabrina who had been waiting for her arrival. Everything seemed normal. Well, apart from the whispers that started as soon as Chloé walked by people.
Still, she ignored it, chalking it down to the usual chatter about her.
Chloé sashayed through the school, her head held high as she ignored even more whispers. Sabrina trailed behind her as she usually did, her shoulders hunched as she clutched Chloé’s designer bag to her chest.
Chloé glared in the general direction of the noise.
As soon as people noticed her looking their way, their laughter stopped. Good to know they weren’t complete idiots. Nobody should be laughing at one of their city’s noble heroes in Chloé’s humble opinion.
“Chloé,” Sabrina timidly spoke as they walked up the metal stairs leading to the upper floor. “I really think you should look at thi—“
“Not now, Sabrina,” the blonde girl icily replied, a simple side glance shutting the other girl up.
The quiet sound of laughter reached Chloé’s ears once again, but this time she ignored it in favour of walking into class. She shouldn’t waste her precious time glaring at some miserable low lives who likely had nothing better to do than spread petty gossip.
Her other classmates were already inside chattering away about something or other.
That is, until they spotted Chloé.
Unaware of why they were staring (because, c’mon, who wouldn’t? She was the famous Queen Bee after all), Chloé didn’t notice as the room fell silent and a few nods were sent a certain someone’s way.
Just as she sat down and Sabrina handed her her bag, a large hand noisily slammed down on the wooden table in front of her.
Rude.
Unimpressed by the sudden action, Chloé looked up to see Kim standing above her. She raised a brow. Since when did he think it was okay to invade her space?
“Hey, Chloé,” he said, glancing around to make sure that everyone in the room was paying attention. He laughed for a moment, coughing into his hand to stop it.
How disgusting.
“What do you want?” Chloé questioned as she looked back down at her bag to find her hand mirror.
Kim grinned.
“Ya like jazz?”
Chloe’s head snapped up as she dropped the mirror, clattering onto the table. The entire classroom burst into a fit of laughter, all of it directed at her.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Ya like jazz?” Kim repeated and the laughter got louder. He then grinned at her and suggestively raised his eyebrows twice.
Chloé looked around, genuinely confused as to what the joke was. She knew she’d heard the line somewhere before, but she couldn’t place it. What did it have to do with her, anyway?
“Wait a second,” Kim said, mouth hanging open in disbelief. He gasped. “You don’t get the joke, do you?”
“Um, no,” she said snootily, rolling her eyes.
“Chloé,” Sabrina meekly whispered, “I was trying to tell you about this earlier.”
The blonde-haired girl’s head whipped around to face her best friend, who had her phone out. On the screen was a picture which made Chloé suddenly recoil in disgust.
“Who made this atrocity?!” Chloé shouted. She stood up and snatched the phone from Sabrina’s hands.
It was a picture of a character Chloé recognised as being from the Bee Movie, the words ‘ya like jazz?’ captioned at the bottom.
But that wasn’t the worst part of it.
Not at all.
A slightly blurry picture of Queen Bee’s face had been edited on top. What made it so much worse was the fact that she was mid expression change so it wasn’t even a good picture of her.
Chloé’s blood boiled as the class continued to laugh at her, her face turning red out of pure rage.
She couldn’t believe the nerve of some people! Someone had obviously decided it’d be a great idea to make a laughing stock out of her — the exquisite Queen Bee!
How dare they!
“This had better be gone this instant!” She shrieked, teeth clenching as she gave the entire class a death glare and stomped her foot on the floor. Even her childhood friend, Adrien, was struggling to keep in his laughter.
“Sorry, Chloé. It’s just a bit too late for that.” Kim informed her, taking out his own phone and pulling up the list of trending hashtags on twitter.
He turned it around to show her. She gasped loudly as soon as she saw.
There, right at the top of the page, was the number one trending hashtag. One look at it told Chloé all she needed to know.
Pulling out her own cell phone, she searched ‘#queenbeelikesjazz’ and scrolled through all the corresponding tweets. There were thousands of them, most having the same attached image still open on Sabrina’s phone.
Chloé let out an almighty screech of anger, storming out of the room and angrily smashing her fingers onto her phone screen to dial a specific number.
“Daddy!”
————————————
Bonus:
A few weeks later, Queen Bee had to be used as a last resort hero.
The meme had quietened down a lot since then, especially after a short speech from her father.
There was still a buzz about it though, and people occasionally brought the topic up to her.
Like now, for instance.
As soon as the akumatised villain — who couldn’t have been any older than fifteen — spotted Queen Bee, they burst out laughing.
Chloé groaned. She already knew what was coming next. And she was so done with this!
“Hey, Queen Bee,” they taunted, raising a hand to their mouth to hide their giggling.
“Ya like jazz?”
The resulting scream of anger and strike of Venom they received mere seconds later ended the battle in an instant.
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Text
Final Fantasy XV Review
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Year: 2016
Original Platform: PlayStation 4
Also available on: PC (Steam), XBox One
Version I Played: PlayStation 4
Here we go. The final Final Fantasy review of the main single-player games. I just want to say, first off, we’ve been waiting for this game since 2006. It took them ten damn years to finally release this game. I clearly remember the teaser trailer they released when it was called Final Fantasy XIII Versus, and my next-door neighbor and I were so hyped for this game when we were freaking teenagers. After years of delays, Square Enix revamped it into Final Fantasy XV.
Did it live up to the wait? Well, read and find out.
Synopsis:
Noctis Lucis Caelum is the heir to the throne of the kingdom of Lucis. On his birthday, he sets off with his three best friends and bodyguards (Ignis, Prompto, Gladio) to marry his betrothed, Lunafreya. The marriage is supposed to be a political one, though Noct and Lunafreya had grown up together and become fond of each other. But peace turns to war as the empire of Niflheim betrays Insomnia and invades. Noct, now on the run, has to reclaim his right to the throne by collecting the necessary family heirlooms which will banish the darkness.  
Gameplay:
Open-world Final Fantasy.
That is the big selling point for this game. 
A MASSIVE step up from Final Fantasy XIII’s gameplay, Final Fantasy XV has you roaming around and attacking enemies on the field in real time. The battle system returns to something slightly more conventional by having you cast spells and use items. It seems like this is what Square really intended to do after Final Fantasy XII. Looking back, Final Fantasy XIII feels like some prototype before Final Fantasy XII, so it really becomes apparent that Final Fantasy XIII’s gameplay comes off as a huge mistake.
This game’s major’s strength comes from the player engaging with a massive world. You camp. You take on hunts. You take on a bajillion sidequests. You run across the world. You drive across the world. You can ride a chocobo across the world.
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However, the dip in the gameplay comes from how easily accessible these sidequests are. The map tells you exactly where you go 24/7. I started to have an existential crisis around my 50th sidequest in a row. Why am I doing this? What’s the point? I go here to kill a thing, or go there to help someone by giving a potion or taking a picture. You start to realize that a good bulk of sidequests are either hunting daemons or fetching an item. You start to deconstruct the meaning of playing a video game as you think to yourself, “Why do I play video games?” while also thinking “But wait, one more and then I swear I’m done.”.
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I get it, not everyone has the time nowadays to figure out a huge game like this. I get it, video games are now marketed to everyone for ease. At the same time, I personally love a good challenge. I mean, I’m the guy who has Dark Souls as one of his favorite video games of all time, so my opinion on the matter might definitely be skewered compared to most. I generally want to feel like I actually figured something out by myself rather than following a tracker on the screen and walking from task to task and then saying, “Okay done. Next.”.
Too much of that and playing a video game starts to feel like a 9 to 5 job to me. This game is great to play during quarantine, but at one point I saw playing this game as feeling like an actual job. Wake up, eat breakfast, time to hunt some daemons.
This is the growing conflict some people have with story-driven games versus open-world games. I see the argument focused too much on words like “linear”, but in reality we should be talking about “automation”. If a video game is too automated, then did you really play a video game? Or did you watch a movie that allows you to control the camera angle? At first, the idea of driving around an open-world Final Fantasy game sounds amazing. Isn’t that what fans always dreamed of? In reality, you don’t really drive around at your leisure. Even when you have the car set to “manual”, you can’t speed up, drive off-road, or pull off a sick drift like in The Fast and the Furious. Your car still automatically stays on the road wherever you’re going. It’s not so much “manual” as it is “I can control where and when to stop and which road to take”. Riding chocobos at your leisure is much more fun, but becomes increasingly impractical as you can just fast-travel to necessary locations in your car.
The sights and sounds of the fictional world of Eos are enough to gloss over these shortcomings though. It IS still fun to roam around and fight monsters and save the day. My bottom line is, “You don’t think about just how mindless the tasks are unless you keep playing for many days straight.”. And I poured hours into this game day after day because of the 2020 pandemic quarantine.
Graphics:
Obviously the best thus far. However, in-game facial expressions on the NPCs are still quite stilted and awkward. This game made me realize that we’ve yet to jump a hurdle when it comes to in-game graphics. The game is so polished but there are still limitations when it comes to giving the characters natural movements, both in body and lips. So an NPC could be shouting “WOW THAT’S AMAZING!” but have a straight face jumping up and down, despite the fact that the character model is the most realistic we’ve created so far in a video game. I was looking back at in-game cutscenes of Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, and found it ironic that they can portray body movements so much better, but that’s the trade-off. Less graphics power to portray realistic bodies, but the graphics power can then be allocated to focus on natural movements. Nowadays, all the graphics power is focused on making things look good, but that hardly leaves room for making things move naturally.
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Story:
After the overly-complicated plotline of Final Fantasy XIII, Final Fantasy XV feels like a breath of fresh air. On the surface, it’s a straightforward tale of a boy seeking to become a king after his father is brutally murdered by enemy forces. The bromance between the young king and his bodyguards is endearing. Each character feels distinct and genuinely makes you laugh. The setup sounds like prime real estate for an emotionally charged storyline.
Unfortunately, it falls apart somewhere around the last quarter. What should have been a strong and straightforward story turned into a rushed, hasty mess by the final act.
The story started SO strong, they practically had it in the bag, but then it became apparent that many important elements were glossed over - especially when it came to the main villain. I realized that some things required me to read between the lines, or even were only explained in character dossiers in the archive section of the menu. Supposedly, the movie Kingsglaive: Final Fantasy XV explains more, but do you really expect me to have to watch a separate movie to understand the actual game? The final quarter of the story feels like someone was trying to finish NaNoWriMo, realized they were running out of time, and quickly jumped from scene to scene to reach that 50k word goal. The ten-year time-skip is a joke. The final chapter is sorely disappointing.
The ending was appropriate though, and even beautiful. However, the overall story didn’t have the necessary emotional weight to really make me feel anything. I thought to myself, “I feel like I should be tearing up but instead I feel nothing.”. Even Final Fantasy XII, which lacked a romance, had me swelling up at the end. Final Fantasy XV didn’t make me swell up until literally the last few seconds of the post-credits scene.
People complained about the advertising (Coleman, Cup Noodles) but that didn’t bother me.
What does bother me is the lack of variety in the main cast, and in numerous ways. There were so many interesting side characters that didn’t receive much screen time, or use at all in the story. The strong focus on only the four male leads made it a sausagefest. I was craving more out of Aranea Highwind and Iris Amicitia. They are important but don’t get any screen time at all in the final chapter, nor do we ever hear from them ever again after the time-skip. Aranea Highwind was such a cool character, but once again ends up being wasted potential.
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The main cast lacked distinctive styles. When I first saw the main cast, I had a hard time telling them apart. They looked like a k-pop band. Compare the main cast of Final Fantasy XV to literally any other Final Fantasy main cast and you can immediately spot the difference.
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The four main leads do have distinct personalities, and I quite loved hearing their comments and banter. It felt realistic, but at times it became ridiculous. I rolled my eyes when Prompto would say things like, “Hashtag sorry not sorry.” That was a bit too on the nose, and came off as Square trying to pander to the current generation.
But what really rubbed me the wrong way is the incredible lack of non-white characters in the entire game. Lestallum feels so wrong to me as a Hispanic. Lestallum is supposed to be modeled after Havana, Cuba.
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Its music, its buildings, its activities. It has a tropical climate, and yet every single denizen is pale white. Every. Single. One. I am not exaggerating. It feels so absolutely wrong walking around that city and not seeing anyone with the slightest shade of brown. This isn’t some uncalled-for SJW rant, it’s a simple fact. Tropical climates breed tanner skins. My brain naturally did a double-take when seeing the all-white population, saying, “Hmmm, something’s wrong here.”. For God’s sake, Final Fantasy XII, made over a decade earlier, did a better job at displaying the various nuances in skin tones, and that was on the PlayStation 2! Final Fantasy X, even older, seemed to properly portray tropical beach populations, inspired by the Philippines, with the character Wakka.
I noticed that they really took the time to incorporate elements from virtually every single Final Fantasy game. Aside from the crystals, the modern settings, and other obvious elements, four male leads are reminiscent of Final Fantasy III, the sinister chancellor hearkens back to Kefka from Final Fantasy VI, the enemy Yojimbo resembles Final Fantasy X’s version of Yojimbo, a certain boss battle reminded me of Cid Raines from Final Fantasy XIII.
Also, there’s Dino. Quite possibly the most annoying Final Fantasy NPC ever.
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The overly obnoxious Italian stereotype made me want to punch his face, and also took me out of the experience of the fictional world. Every time you spoke with him he's all like "HEY HOW YOU DOIN WELCOME TO OLIVE GARDEN YOU TALKIN TO ME BADA BING BADA BOOM SPICY PIECE OF MEATBALL CAPISCE? AMIRITE??"
Square seemed to treat this game as a milestone in the series, alluding to everything the series ever did. It’s a shame that the story itself wasn’t quite up to snuff to be held in such regard.
Music:           
The game’s major lyrical song is copyrighted, which is a first for a Final Fantasy game. It makes sense why they chose the song “Stand by Me”, both in literal and figurative terms of the story.             
The score to this game is quite fantastic. The series has its first female composer, Yoko Shimomura. I have absolutely no complaints about the music. Nobuo Uematsu didn’t even pop into my head during the entire game. It’s the first time since Uematsu’s departure that I felt immersed in the score. The motifs are distinct and strong. The battle music is vibrant and an orchestral orgasm to listen to.    
Notable Theme:            
“Somnus”  
youtube
The main theme of the game. It plays right away in the main menu. I love how it is incorporated into the rest of the score, and my brain kept wanting to hear it to its completion.   
Direct Sequel?           
Nope. However, there is downloadable content that fills in the gap of events within the game. Supposedly, Final Fantasy XV is loosely connected to Final Fantasy XIII and Final Fantasy Type-O, all sharing common themes and possibly set in the same universe. You can also watch the prequel movie, Kingsglaive: Final Fantasy XV.
Did it Live up to the Hype?           
Eh.           
Yes, and no.            
It was cool to play around, but the rest is a flaccid attempt at being a notable entry in the series “for fans and first-timers”, as the words proudly display every time you load the game. It’s not the worst in the series, but certainly not the best. It’s somewhere in the mid-to-low tier.
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