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ladybug023 · 3 years

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Tien Fuh Wu Aka: Wu

(Warning: mentions of child abuse, sexual abuse, and human trafficking. please don't read if that upsets you. Tien Fuh Wu's real backstory is very graphic and sad.)

Tien Fuh Wu was a real-life hero who helped stomp out sex trafficking in Chinatown. The OC that I'm making headcanons about is based on her. Here's an article that explains her story: Tien Fuh Wu

Warrior version of Wu Backstory HCs:

Her age is 24 in the show.

In Warrior, she’s mostly called “Wu” except for Nellie who calls her Tien or “blessed Tien” when she’s doting about her. People in Chinatown also call her the "White Devil's Daughter”

Wu is a feminist activist who alongside her mother figure, Nellie, fights to end sexual slavery in Chinatown. She's also a Presbyterian Christian and her religion is very important to her. (As it was to the real Tien Fuh Wu.)

Wu is also the Nellie’s personal assistant. Which means she’s basically Nellie’s right hand woman. Her bodyguard, translator, and she helps oversee Nellie’s company, staff, and estates.

Wu sometimes calls Nellie “Lo Mo” which means “old mother” but in public it’s “Miss Davenport”

Wu is big strong sister. All of the girls at the Vineyards call her “Jie Jie” which means big sister in Chinese. Wu does her absolute best to keep them safe from danger and when someone she cares for gets hurt she blames herself harshly for failing to protect them.

She also is teaching Nellie Chinese.

Her backstory in Warrior is mostly similar to her real counterpart's backstory. Poor baby. Like honestly the most tragic and graphic backstory in Warrior.

At age 10 her father sold her to traffickers for a couple bottles of rice wine and a bag of opium. He did this because she was a girl and therefore had no use to him. She was auctioned off in broad daylight to a Fung Hai brothel owner named Batu.

At first, she was kept as domestic slaves which were also called "Mui Tsai." Which means little sister in Cantonese. She was also branded like livestock on her the nape of her neck.

She was kept in a cage and didn’t see the sunlight for 4 years. She was regularly beaten and sexually abused by her owner. When Wu turned 11 they began to sell her to other men.

Living in the Peking brothel was a literal hell for her. It was so bad that she’d pray every night for whatever god out there to put her out of her misery.

One night Batu sold Wu to an aristocrat from Sinoma. This man turned out to be Nellie Davenport's husband. He molested her until he died of a heart attack on top of her. When Nellie and two police officers found her there were so many scars and burns on Wu's body that it even made the Bulls cry.

(She was the 14-year-old girl Nellie mentioned at the dinner party with Penelope and the Mayor.)

Nellie brought both her home that same night, completely forgetting about her dead husband. She only cared that Wu got a nice bath, medical care, and food. (Nellie was 34 at the time. Nellie is 44 in my AU.)

At first, Wu didn't trust Nellie at all. What did this white lady want from her? She often threw tantrums and lashed out. She even stabbed Nellie once. Also, the language barrier made it difficult for them to understand each other.

However, no matter how many people around Nellie told her to give up Wu, she refused. She felt she owed it to the girl not to give up on her. Over time Nellie gained Wu's trust and they formed a very tight bond.

Nellie made sure Wu was well educated. She taught her English and feminist theory.

When she was 15 Wu became fascinated with Kung Fu from viewing a Kung Fu class while visiting Chinatown with Nellie. She believed it was the best way to protect Nellie and herself from men that would want to hurt them.

She is mostly self-taught because no martial artist in Chinatown would train a girl. So, Wu began cross dressing as a boy and seeking into Chinatown on the weekends to learn from masters. Of course once they figured out she was a girl they’d throw her out. But as Bruce Lee said she’d learn what was usual, discard what wasn’t, and make it her own thing.

Wing Chun and Kung Fu did improve her mental, emotional, and physical state and helped control her anger.

(Wu uses her umbrella as a self-defense weapon. Umbrella Kung Fu! I added this to reference how umbrellas were a popular self-defense tool for women at the time.)

Her fighting abilities are kept secret from the White upper class because they would see her as “dangerous.”

When Wu turned 18 she became Nellie’s Assistant.

Wu believes that God saved her from dying in that crib brothel because it was her purpose to help liberate and free the women of Chinatown.

Wu is the one who came up with the idea to turn some of Nellie's land into sanctuaries for the abused women of Chinatown and Nellie was more than happy to do it.

They started to go to Chinatown and the Barbary Coast to buy sex slaves from their owners. It grew from there. Soon they began to pay off cops to help them raid small brothels and gambling dens.

However, this also made them some enemies. Wu was targeted more than Nellie because she herself was Chinese and therefore viewed as a traitor by the tongs in her midst.

She is regularly sent threatening letters, spoken about poorly in Chinese newspapers, and some of the tongs like the Fung Hai put a bounty on Wu. Although, every assassin who has tried to kill her so far has failed. Wu, being the badass she is doesn’t let this stop her from her mission work.

Wu would teach some of the girls they rescued martial arts and self-defense if they were interested.

Also, Nellie and her also finance Chinatown's Presbyterian Church which was founded in 1853 and is the first Chinese-American church in North America. If Wu is in town she'll often give speeches there.

Wu Personality HCs:

She is stern, outspoken, sharp tongued, intelligent, level-headed, resilient, honorable, and a bit too blunt for her own good. She comes off as rude, intimidating, and self-righteous to some people.

She’s passionate about her cause and a determined hero, "excited" and "eager for the fray." The real Tien Fuh Wu was known to force her way into brothels, warmly reassuring young girls, and fearlessly getting them out of harm's way.

Wu is highly educated and well-mannered. She speaks eloquently and doesn’t curse because cursing is a sin.

Did I mention she’s emotionally constipated as fuckkkk, she rarely smiles.

For reference, her morality is at Officer Lee’s level. She’s more uncompromising with her morals than Lee.

In the beginning, Wu had a white and black worldview. She absolutely hated the tongs and anyone who supported tongs and prostitution. Nellie is the more understanding one. (Nellie is a hate the sin but loves the sinner type)

But when Wu begins to form close bonds with morally grey characters like Ah Toy and Young Jun her worldview slowly becomes less rigid.

Wu will never be able to have a child. The Tongs robbed her of that choice. Despite that she’s still very sweet and gentle with children. She make it a priority to remind the little girls she saved of how important and precious they are.

She isn't as trusting as Nellie either. She has a lot of trust issues and It takes a lot to gain it.

Wu also suffers from feeling like an outsider and abandoned by her people. They treat her like she’s not Chinese and looks down on her familiar relationship with Nellie.

Aka she feels like what Crazy Rich Asians referred to as a “Banana”. Yellow on the outside but white on the inside.

She’s a feminist who takes no shit from men. Her general distrust and distaste for men are because of her trauma. Of course, this intimidates most of the men around her.

Wu has a pessimistic view of romantic love and abstains from it. This is due to her distrust of men and her fear of getting hurt by another man.

Plus the real Tien Fuh Wu never married, saying in the article. "Men are very useful when it comes to moving furniture."

Despite this, a part of her still aches for romance and dreams about finding the right partner.

She also secretly likes romance novels. Cheesy or not she’ll still read it. Her favorite is Pride and Prejudice. She’ll take this secret to her grave.

Appearance:

In my AU she is played by actress Ansa Woo. She’s what I imagine Wu to look like. She’s a stage combat trained but she would have to gain some muscle for the role. Plus she has that wise big sis look.

She has a lot of scars on her body from her past that she’s insecure of. Especially her branding scar. She always hides them with clothing.

She’s tall with muscular athletic build.

She always wears the cross necklace that Nellie gifted her. It gives her good luck.

Wu cross dresses sometimes.

Her pantsuit is a white suit embroidered with Chinese patterns. I think it suits her because it contrasts Young Jun’s Hop Wei Black suit. She wears it with her hair in a long Manchurian like braid.

Romantic Interest: Young Jun

I’m a sucker for enemies turned lovers/Yin-Yang ships. So I shipped her with Young Jun.

It’s more like an enemies turned friends then lovers and it’s a m slow burn

She hates him because well he’s Hop Wei, sleazy, and arrogant. He’s like an 1800s frat boy.

He hates her frigidness and self-righteous attitude.

They also disagree morally and are always arguing. But there’s still chemistry.

He calls her “Angel” and “Ball Buster” to piss her off.

She calls him “Rotten Onion”

Unlike every other woman Young Jun has met, she isn’t afraid to call him on his shit and tell him the truth. Which Young Jun isn’t used to because he pays women to feign affection for him. (Ex when he pays girls for sex.)

He can’t buy her affection.

After she takes a bullet in the shoulder for him in S2 Ep6 they slowly begin to understand and respect each other. She inspires him to be better and he helps her with her unresolved trauma.

They both share the feeling of being an outcast to their people. They both don't really feel like they're Chinese.

They both know how it feels to be abandoned by a parent. Young Jun’s mother abandoned him similar to how Wu’s father abandoned her.

Both never really had a childhood.

Also, being a victim of the tongs, Wu helps Jun realize just how terrible sex slavery is and how serious of a problem it is in Chinatown. He becomes much more sensitive to it.

Their main shipper is Hong.

Hong: You two are practically made for each other!

Young Jun: What the fuck are you talking about?

Hong: You have so much in common! You love prostitutes, Wu loves prostitutes. She has daddy issues, you have daddy issues-

Young Jun: Shut up Hong.

Hong: I'm just saying, jeez.

(I’ll make a more in-depth post about their relationship and her relationships with the other characters later.)

#warrior hbo max #hbo series #my Oc #Nellie Davenport #young jun #warrior #HBO Warrior #tien fuh wu #ah sahm #warrior hong #hbo max #my ocs stuff

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lxveshotaro · 4 years

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Return - Lee Jeno

Warnings: Sub! Jeno, Dom! Reader, Idol! Reader, Mommy Kink, Fingering, Mirror Sex, Public Sex?? Sorta

Plot: You were able to make it through Produce 48 and debut as a member of IZ*ONE. Although you were able to make this achievement your accomplishments were stripped from you when a scandal blew through everything. Your company failed to protect you so you ended up having to go on a hiatus. During your break the attention that was on you didn’t falter as more things began to grab the attention of reporters.

A/N: Okay wow this is LONG but I’m very satisfied with it. I hope the actual smut isn’t too short but yeah. I didn’t touch too much on the produce scandal or anything like that since I don’t know a whole lot about it and I didn’t think it was super necessary.

“Y/N of MNET program, Produce 48 will finally be making her return after a long hiatus.”

“After much consideration and many meetings, Y/N will be rejoining her IZ*ONE members mid promotion! Please give her a warm welcome as she takes the stage January 4th - 5th at the Golden Disk Awards!”

Being remembered by a scandal isn’t necessarily rewarding, in fact it’s quite the opposite. You were pulled from your group at debut because of a huge scandal regarding MNET’s TV show that you took part in. Your company specifically got tied up in the scandal pretty badly which didn’t do you any good. You were the representation for your company which is why you ended up receiving massive backlash. Of course the situation shocked you just as much as the other members. Many fans defended you and your group to protect you guys from any damage. Sadly, they couldn’t save you all in the end.

You were forced into a hiatus by the backlash and mess that surrounded you. Rumors spread like wildfire, we all know this so it wasn’t a surprise that one speculation of your company turned into you being pulled from your group for a while. During this time you kept in contact with the other members as you all hoped this would just pass, which it eventually did. It took a lot of convincing, tears, and stress but the day finally came where you would be able to come back as an official member of IZ*ONE.

You’re the multitalented and beautiful Y/N of IZ*ONE, it hasn’t been easy getting to where you are today. Many people have and will be jealous of you and your success. Even though you have a lot of people who despise you, the amount of people that love you outweighs them. Coming back after such a long time worried a lot of people, you most of all. You had prepared so much during your hiatus, between bettering yourself and learning choreographies that you would be able to perform with your members, you were stressed and tired. Your drive kept you going, you had a passion and you would fulfill that passion for the rest of your life.

You were running out of time to practice as you would be performing again in just a few days. Your members were extremely supportive and your instructor would stay late to help you practice the songs that you still needed help on. Your anxiety started to build up as the days passed, not because you weren’t confident in your performance but because it would be your first time in a long time to perform in front of so many people. This performance was super important to you so your lack of sleep and sustenance was well worth it.

Some of the members came by the studio to check on you. “Hey Y/N! We brought you food!” Eunbi was the first to walk through the door. You looked in her direction and smiled when you saw the bags from your favorite restaurant in her hand. As much as you wanted to decline the food and continue practicing you knew she wouldn’t allow that. Sakura also came in, she approached you with that sweet and beautiful smile of hers and brought you to the center of the room so you could all sit together. “Thank you guys.” You smiled at them adoringly, “I know you haven’t been eating well because of preparations so I wanted to make sure you at least ate today.” You nodded and started taking your food out of the bags. The members remembered the exact order that you always got which warmed your heart.

You guys ate together and joked around and shared quite a few laughs together, “Hey did you guys see who would be performing at the show?” You shook your head but you didn’t look up at Yujin as she spoke since your eyes were glued to your food. You weren’t listening for a bit but one name made it through your trance, “NCT Dream, Twi-..” Your hearing was being extremely selective because after hearing those two names your ears closed up again. Without making a big deal about it you just put your chopsticks down and pushed your food away. “Thanks for bringing me food you guys.” You finally looked up at the others who clearly noticed your odd reaction and knew why you acted the way you did.

“I should get back to practicing, I haven’t worked on my vocals much yet..” They took that as their cue to go, it wasn’t like you were upset with them, it was just that now you had to take a moment to just think. The girls started putting all of the trash into a bag while you collected the leftovers and packaged them back up. “Thanks for visiting me girls, I’ll try to make it home as soon as I can.” You hugged them all and said your goodbyes. Once the room was empty again you just stood there and thought for a moment. “Whatever.. I have a performance to do, this can’t distract me.” With that you went back to practicing lyrics and moves and also learning anything else that was difficult for you.

You forgot the chaos of getting ready for a show while you were gone. This stylists unpacking their things, the clothing racks with the groups costumes hanging on it, the make up artists with all kinds of brands laid out in front of them, all of this was so invigorating to you. You sat down in the makeup artists chair and let her pin your hair up and out of your face. She first massaged and prepped your face before starting to apply your makeup. This process was always relaxing, having someone brush your hair or having someone apply your makeup while you rested your eyelids. It was almost like it was meant for you to fall asleep, with your members singing sweetly and the facial massage you were getting you started to doze off.

“Y/N.” You opened your eyes and made eye contact with the makeup artist, “You fell asleep for a moment but I finished your makeup.” You bowed slightly and smiled, “Ah, sorry.” She shrugged it off and got ready for the next member, “Thank you.” Next was your hair which you finished with pretty quickly. The stylist caught your attention immediately afterwards, “Hey Y/N, come get dressed please.” You grabbed your things and disappeared to the back of the room for a while. The stylist decided to go for red and white outfits, your outfit particularly stood out as it had both colors and it was sparkly. You also wore a beautiful pair of high heels along with some really nice accessories to go along with it.

When you finished getting dressed you walked out while adjusting the belt on your dress. “Ohhh, look at Y/N!” Your members praised your appearance and came over to look at your outfit. The stylist did a really good job with tying all of your outfits together while also making sure each member was able to stand out in their own way. “Aww thank you!” It meant a lot that everyone was trying to make this a bit easier for you, they praised you, they hugged you, they made sure you were comfortable, this was all a team effort. You all took pictures together and separately so you could share them with the fans later on, but before you knew it the time had come where you had to go.

“Alright everyone, time to get in the car! The red carpet will start soon so we have to go now.” You put your jacket on along with the other members and followed them out to the car. The staff climbed in first and some of the members followed after them. You had to pick which car to go in which was easy considering the other ones filled up fast. You climbed into the car and with that you were on the way to your first red carpet appearance.

When you arrived everything felt like a dramatic movie scene. You watched the group that arrived before you take their pictures on the ending stage before disappearing into the building. Somehow you were the last one out of the car which further dramatized your long awaited arrival. You felt like crying from the overwhelming feeling that hit you right before you got out of the car. That bad feeling immediately turned to happiness when you stepped out of the car and saw your members standing there waiting for you. The fans' shouts rang in your ears and will forever be remembered. A huge smile came across your face as you waved at your fans. You smiled and laughed excitedly as you walked down the red carpet with your members by your side.

You all came to the stage and greeted the interviewer, “Oh! IZ*ONE has arrived!” The interviewer greeted you all excitedly as you got in the order that was pre-decided for you guys. You guys bowed and continued to smile and pose for the cameras as some of you were given microphones. The interviewer asked quite a few questions before leading up to this one, “You guys brought someone special! How has it been?” The members turned to you with smiles, Wonyoung who was standing three members from you passed down her microphone, “It’s been a hard journey but I’m truly honored to be back and to be able to perform for my fans again, thank you for the support everybody!” You gave two thumbs up and a smile. The next group had to come on now so you guys gave back the microphones, thanked the mcs, and went into the building.

After a while you guys were able to sit at your table and interact with your fans while you waited for the show to start. You played around with your members and interacted with fans by shooting hearts at them, blowing kisses, and taking selfies and including the crowd in them. As you were doing this a boy group started walking in the direction of your table. At no point did you look at any of the tables around you because you didn’t think it would be necessary. Your fans got super excited when they saw who it was which confused you. The group got closer and they passed your table. You finally saw who it was and where they were going to sit.

Of course it was only two tables away, it was NCT Dream. As they passed your table you bowed at them all and smiled a bit. Your smile slightly faltered when you saw him, your ex, Lee Jeno, of course people saw this since it was super obvious what just happened. You shook the situation off and continued interacting with your fans who were freaking out about it. You’re a playful person so you laughed at the situation and playfully shushed your fans who were talking to each other about what they all just witnessed. Even your members were taken aback by the situation but you all took to it lightly.

It’s no secret that your fans want you and Jeno back together, they comment on it, they say it, they did whatever they could to make that point known. It felt like there was nothing you could do though, you and Jeno are broken up and that’s the way it had to be. You haven’t even seen him or talked to him really since you went on hiatus so it has definitely been a really long time.

The show started so you had no time to think about that anymore, all you had to do was enjoy the show and wait until you would perform later, easy right? Wrong. The thought of Jeno being two tables from you, looking at you, thinking about you, talking to his members about you was eating at your brain. You were very bothered by this thought so you had to look over there, you just had to. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible you only slightly moved your eyes in his direction. Whew, that wasn’t obvious at all or was it even more obvious. You were ripped out of your thoughts by a voice, “Y/N.” You looked around, a bit startled to be honest to see Yena’s seemingly worried expression, “Are you okay?” You nodded, “Yeah um.. I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” She nodded and stood up with you.

She walked with you to tell a staff member to direct you to the bathroom. As you walked you bowed to the celebrities sitting at the surrounding tables. You also waved at your fans as you made your way to the backstage area with the staff member. “Ah thank you.” You bowed once more to the staff member and walked into your dressing room first. Your belongings along with the other members' stuff was there. You looked at yourself in the mirror and took a breather. “Calm down Y/N, you have the whole night to go, you can’t ruin it already.”

You finally calmed yourself down and started heading back to the show. “Y/N!” Someone suddenly approached you from a left turn which scared you. You turned to see who it was, “What the fuck are you doing!?” It was Jeno, of course. He put a hand over your mouth to quiet you down but you quickly slapped his hands away. This time you spoke in a whisper, “My lipstick! What are you doing!?” He gave you a familiar look that usually meant he had something to talk about but before you could say anything he looked around and saw that nobody was around and he slipped into the bathroom that was close by. He pulled you in and locked the door behind him.

“Jeno, seriously?” You sighed, just looking at him pissed you off. “Y/N, would you just listen to me without thinking about what has happened in the past?” You rolled your eyes, “Yeah hold on, let me just forget that you threw our relationship down the drain like it was nothing, let me also forget that you left me at a time where I really needed you.” He looked guilty, “I know I was wrong, you don’t have to forgive me completely but please just listen.” You walked further into the bathroom and slightly lifted yourself onto the counter, “Make it quick, my members are waiting.” He suddenly started thinking of what to say, you were impatient since you didn’t want to see him. “Jeno-” He cut you off by speaking suddenly. He didn’t, no he couldn’t look up at you because the guilt was eating at him, “Listen, when the company came to me and told me that I had to end things with you.. Imagine how I felt. It felt like I was punched in my gut, it felt even worse when I told you that day.. seeing you cry like that made me feel like shit. I want to correct this as best as I can.”

You didn’t say anything you just kind of stared into the mirror blankly. Instead of watching him in person you just occasionally gazed at him in the mirror. He caught your attention with his big movement so you looked at him through the mirror. Jeno was lowering himself onto his knees which made you turn and actually look at him physically. “What are you-” He cut you off again, “I’m so sorry Y/N, please give me another chance.” Vivid memories of what you and Jeno used to do together came rushing back to you. You haven’t thought about these things in such a long time so it was an overwhelming feeling but you didn’t show how you were affected by it.

The sound of your heels clicking made Jeno finally look up. You came over to where he was kneeled pathetically in front of you. You placed your hand gently under his chin and pulled his face upwards more so that he had to look you in the eye. You bent down a bit, “Don’t worry so much baby, it’s not your fault, I know I was mad and I still am, but I won’t hold it against you.” Jeno looked relieved and puppy-like at the same time, “M-mommy..” That name, you haven’t heard it in so long. You bit your lip as you tried to fight off the urge to kiss him. Eventually you lost as you pulled him off of his knees by his chin and pulled him in for a hungry kiss. You pushed him against the counter, he put his hands behind him so that he could hold himself up.

Without even thinking you messily pulled on the jacket to his suit as you tried to remove it. You opened your eyes and broke the kiss for a moment so you could unbutton the jacket. Your eyes met his and you noticed small tears leaving his eyes, “Ooh baby, don’t cry, it’s okay, I won’t stay mad forever.” You wiped that tear away and cupped his cheeks to pull him in for another kiss, this time Jeno brought his hands up your back in an attempt to unzip your dress. You broke the kiss again and removed his hands from your back, you looked him in the eye, “Don’t touch, we don’t wanna mess up my appearance right? Today’s a big day, isn’t it?” Jeno nodded as if he was under a spell that you had cast.

You finally got his jacket unbuttoned and you pulled on his button up slightly and watched as some of the top buttons came undone. The top of his chest was now exposed to you. Your hand wandered his body and stopped right on his hard crotch, “Oh? What’s this?” He blushed slightly even though he knew you’d eventually notice, “Mommy.. You did it..” You smiled at him and acted innocent, “Oh did I?” You leaned forward and kissed his chest, your red lipstick stained his skin. You sucked on his chest leaving a deep red mark, Jeno sucked in sharply as you squeezed his erection harshly. You leaned forward again and attached your lips to his neck, Jeno pulled away from you, “Please- don’t-” It was too late, you had already left a mark there. Jeno was thinking about how he was going to cover that but your voice interrupted his thoughts, “We gotta go quick, we don’t want you to miss your performance right?” He shook his head quickly. “Then let’s get a move on it.”

You unbuttoned his pants, “Look in the mirror.” You turned him around but he watched you instead of himself, “No, look at yourself.” Once he did, you pulled down his pants swiftly, Jeno turned around and looked at you to see what you were doing. You pushed him down slightly and bent him over the counter. “You always cum the fastest from mommies fingers right?” He nodded and looked down at his hands. You slapped his ass which made him shift forward and wince at the stinging pain. Since you had no lube you had to keep using saliva but it worked in the end.

You rubbed circles over his anus for a bit. Jeno pressed himself backwards and against your fingers and looked at you through the mirror, “Please Mommy..” You still had to be quick so you smiled and nodded, “Okay baby, I’ll give you what you want.” You pushed him forward again slightly so he was almost flat over the counter. You then took one finger and slid it in, “I’m not going to stretch you that much, is that okay?” He nodded and bit his lip, “Please I wanna cum..” You smiled as you slipped another finger in. This used to be one of your favorite things to do with Jeno, seeing him with his legs spread wide open for you was always an amazing sight.

You held a steady pace and watched Jeno as he held his mouth open and whimpered quietly. He still wasn’t looking at himself so you reached forward and lifted his head. Your hand was resting under his chin, “Don’t you look so pretty? Getting fucked by Mommy’s fingers?” He shied away from your grasp, too shy to admit that he loved seeing himself like this. You sped up your movements which made Jeno whimper quietly. “Touch yourself.” He quickly grabbed himself and pumped himself at a fast pace. His legs shook and looked like they were about to give out under him. His moans became more audible over time.

Amidst Jeno’s beautiful noises falling from his mouth there was a knock on the door, “Y/N? Are you in there? The other girls said you went to the bathroom a while ago.” Jeno didn’t pay it any mind and continued to stroke himself. He was struggling to stay quiet so you covered his mouth and continued to finger him. “Yeah sorry! I ended up taking a call, I’ll be out in a little bit, I know I’m on a time crunch!” The staff member nodded even if you couldn’t see her, “Also, are you okay? Are you hurt?” She must’ve heard Jeno’s whimpers, “Oh yeah, I’m better now, I hit my hand on the counter..” The staff member nodded again, thanked you, and walked away shortly after. Jeno looked so fucked out when you looked back at him through the mirror, “Wow, you didn’t even get shocked, such a naughty boy.” He let out a moan that was muffled by your hand.

You moved your hand away from his mouth, “I’m close!” You slapped his ass again and he squealed which caused him to cover his mouth with his own hand. You laughed at him for a moment, “Go ahead.” With that you sped up your movements. Jeno choked out a few more moans before he spilled himself all over the floor underneath him. He slowed his strokes as he caught his breath, “Ooh so messy.” You pulled your fingers out of him and went to wash your hands. Jeno laid over the counter for a moment as he thought about what just happened. Your heels clicked as you walked to grab a paper towel for your hands, “Have fun cleaning this up.” You smiled at him and unlocked the door to leave.

You had made it back to your seat, your members and fans looked confused but it didn’t take long for them to start making speculations. You took your seat next to Yena again and got comfortable in your seat. You had cleaned yourself up, touched up your makeup, and made yourself look 100% presentable again. The other girls were giving you very suspicious looks as they waited for Jeno to come back as well. It took a while but Jeno returned from the bathroom, his hand was over his neck, probably because of the hickey you gave him. This time when he walked passed your table you just looked away which of course your very observant fans saw.

He sat at his table and the other members immediately started an interrogation, “Why are you covering your neck?” Renjun, who was sitting directly beside Jeno leaned in for a closer look. Jeno moved away from him and shooed him, “What took you so long?” He turned to his other side where Haechan was squinting his eyes suspiciously. Jeno let out a short nervous laugh, “I-” He couldn’t even get his lame excuse out before being interrupted, “You took a fat shit didn’t you?” Jeno’s mouth fell open for a second, shocked by his members unwillingness to listen, “No I had to do something.” The others rolled their eyes but left it alone for a moment, “You met Y/N didn’t you.” Him and Jeno made eye contact, a light blush washed over Jeno’s face at the mention of your name, “Ooh! Jeno’s got a girlfriend!!” Jaemin childishly added, “You guys are so immature.” Jeno was blushing and smiling like a high school girl while thinking about what just happened.

“You look happy Y/N.” Eunbi leaned closer to you and watched your facial expression change, “Did you and Jeno make up?” Yena, who was now tuned into the conversation also leaned in. You smiled and shrugged your shoulders, “Sorta?” Yena smiled really big, “Look at you! So happy!” You looked like a little kid with the way you were smiling, “It looks like you’re in high school again!” You shook your head, “No I don’t!” There was no hiding the butterflies you felt in your stomach.

You waved goodbye to your fans as you and the other girls climbed into the cars. Some of the fans were mentioning Jeno and others were sharing their love for you. Once you were in the car you looked out the window and blew kisses to your fans as the car pulled off. “That was so much fun!” You couldn’t stop smiling, not only because of Jeno but also because of your loving fans. “I’m so glad you were able to be here.” Eunbi held your hand and smiled, “I’m happy too.” Eunbi laid on your shoulder after you guys shared a warm smile.

“Y/N!” The voice shocked you so your eyes went wide but you looked over to see Hitomi. She was holding her phone in front of you, “You and Jeno are trending all over the internet right now.” She wasn’t lying, everyone was posting about how Jeno ran after you in a heroic kdrama kind of way. “I wonder how the company will feel about that..” You just laughed and shrugged it off even though you were thinking about Jeno. “People really want you guys back together, they always have.” You nodded, your fans and Jeno’s fans were always extremely supportive of the fact that you guys were in love. It was truly heartwarming. It felt as if it wasn’t up to you if you two ended up together. The reason you guys broke up was because of Jeno’s company, they threatened to terminate his contract.

It’s been a year since you made your return to the industry, one year since you and Jeno made up, and one year since you found happiness again. From that day on you had been working extra hard and earning respect from more fans and from SM Entertainment. SM has decided to allow you and Jeno to be together! There’s no more hiding out for you two!

“Are you ready to tell them?” Jeno looked nervous as he held the big surprise in his hand. He kissed the youngling on the head and nodded to you. Taking a deep breath, you started the live video. You only showed yourself on the screen as you greeted the fans. “Hi guys~” You waved and read the comments, they were asking where Jeno was since you guys were always together. Jeno put his hand in the camera and waved, “Hiiii!” The fans were confused as to why he wasn’t showing himself but you would reveal that shortly, “Okay guys, remember when Jeno and I told you all that we had a surprise?” The comments showed confusion, “Well, me and Jeno have decided..” Jeno crept into the camera frame, his hands were positioned weirdly, “We wanted to have something to care for together so..” Jeno smiled brightly as he lifted his hands and revealed an adorable puppy, “We got a puppy!!” Your fans put many hearts and called your little baby adorable over and over, “Please help us pick a name for our puppy! Put suggestions in the comments.” Jeno squinted so that he could see what people were saying. Many were jokingly putting weird names and some were being serious, this is going to be a long live.

#nct dream smut #sub nct dream #sub nct dream smut #nct jeno smut #sub!idol #sub!kpop #sub nct #sub nct smut #sub jeno smut #sub jeno #sub lee jeno smut #lee jeno smut #jeno smut

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neocrush · 4 years

Text

to the fools who dream.

pairing: idol!renjun x fem!trainee!reader

prompt: when two fools with the same dream collide and tragically fall for each other. except, one has already achieved said dream. the other is willing to sacrifice everything in able to reach that same dream. through experiencing love and heartbreak for the first time, they learn to separate dream and reality.

previous | masterlist | next

TEASER UNDER THE CUT.

“Five, six, seven, eight!” The dance teacher counted to the beats of Boss Bitch by Doja Cat. You kept a strong gaze, looking at your dancing figure on the mirror. You and your fellow trainees squatted on the ground as you stayed in that position, waiting for your respective solo parts. As your solo part came, you stood up and gracefully went to the center. After sixteen counts, everyone else stood up as you led them into the chorus. As the song ends, you stayed still in your ending pose. You and Saerin’s heavy breathing being the only audible thing to your ears.

Your ending pose included you perching one arm up her right shoulder as both your bodies faced each other, meanwhile your actual faces faced the floor. “Good job, girls! That’s a wrap for dance practice today!” The man who previously had a stern face, smiled proudly at your hard work. “Your managers told me that none of you have any extra classes or training after this one. Therefore, you are allowed to go back to your dorms. Rest up, tomorrow is the monthly evaluation.”

All twelve of you bowed as your dance teacher left the practice room. “Finally..” Haryeong sighed, collapsing to the floor as she sprawled her body in a funny manner.

“I’m so nervous. I-I don’t think I’m ready for tomorrow’s evaluations.” Hannah stuttered. She was fairly new to the company, so her being extremely nervous for her first evaluations wasn’t that surprising to any of you. What surprised you, was that she started crying. Jaera, the eldest female trainee engulfed her in a motherly-like hug. She wiped the tears that fell onto the gray-haired girl’s cheeks away.

“Hannah, look at me,” She softly spoke. The younger girl looked up, indicating that she was listening to her elder. “You’re going to do amazing. I know that for a fact. I’m not just saying this because we’re friends or because I’m trying to cheer you up. You are truly talented and hardworking. You entered this company without knowing how to count beats and stay on key. That was nearly a month ago. Now you’re up for the Main Dancer position and our vocal coach praises you on the daily. Heck, you even started rapping! Do you see what I’m trying to say? Your hardwork won’t go to waste. None of ours will.” The speaking girl looked around at her fellow trainees. Some of you starting to tear up a bit.

She continued, “I say this with all my heart. We all deserve to debut. When the time comes, our company will realize that our talent and hardwork can’t go to waste. If they fail to do so, then they’re missing out on so much potential.” The sobbing girls wiped their tears as they laughed at Jaera’s last line. Sumin pulled everyone into a hug as you cherished this moment, knowing it won’t forever be like this.

The hug fell apart as Wonchae’s phone buzzed, receiving a call from one of your managers. Soon enough you all bid your goodbyes, as you were travelling in different cars to your dorms. Everyone walked to building’s main lobby and black vans arrived. It was 3:58 AM and you were in need of rest. As you put your white mask on, you heard a voice call out your name. You turned around and immediately removed your mask, bowing at the person who was nearing you. “Yoongi-sunbae, hello.” You properly greeted your senior.

“Ah, good thing you’re here. The CEO wants to see you.” You widened your eyes at what the taller man had just told you. “Don’t worry, it’s probably nothing bad.” He chuckled at your tense figure. “I should probably tell-” “No, no, it’s okay. They already know.” He reassured as he cut you off mid-sentence. “I can walk you there. My practice room is on the same floor.” You firmly nodded at his suggestion. “Let me just get some iced coffee, which is what I initially was going to do.” You both chuckle as you trailed behind him to the vending machine and to the 12th floor via elevator.

You walked through the spacey hallway that led to the CEO’s office. Yoongi took a turn as he opened a door that revealed six boys chaotically doing shenanigans in a big practice room. You just chuckled at the sight of the six hyperactive men you had to deal with since you were a mere child. “Y/n! Hi!” A deep but cheerful voice that belonged to none other than Taehyung joyfully called out your name as he energetically waved at you from a distance. “Hi Taetae-sunbae!” You smiled ear-to-ear and waved.

“See you soon? Good luck for the evaluations tomorrow by the way.” Yoongi calmly voiced out.

“Oh, Thank you, sunbae. See you soon!” You bid your goodbyes as you properly bowed - he was your senior afterall. You continued your mini journey to the CEO’s office as you walked straight towards the end of the hall.

You were now face-to-face with the door that led to the CEO’s office. The words ‘BANG SI HYUK’ on top of ‘CEO of BigHit Entertainment’ with big, golden letters and a bold font were plastered on the big white door. It was quite intimidating - you must say.

You entered the room full of hesitation and got lost in your see of thoughts, until a man voiced out. “Ah, y/n. I have been waiting for you.” Your boss, Bang Sihyuk, smiled softly. You bowed, “Hello, sir. I apologize for being late.” “It’s alright. Take a seat.” He pulled out a chair that was in front of his large desk, gesturing for you to sit on it. “Thank you, sir.” You took a seat, smiling at his extremely kind gesture. He took a seat on his large leather chair, facing you from the other side of his desk.

“It’s very late right now, so I’m not going to keep you here for a long time. I’ll just get to the point, okay?” The middle-aged started as you firmly nodded.

“You have been training with us since you were 12 years old. When you auditioned, I saw the talent and potential in you. I knew you were going to become a star one day. An extremely successful one. You are very talented and hardworking. You already know that, of course. Everybody in BigHit does. Even our cleaning staff.” You both chuckled at his comedic remark.

He continued with a more serious tone, “I’ve watched you grow into an amazing artist. There was never a day where you would let me down. After every performance, you always remind me why I accepted you into the company in the first place. You never fail to improve. To be better. To be stronger. You are extremely independent for someone your age and you should be proud of that. But most importantly, you are passionate and humble. Wherever you go in life, remember to keep those core traits as they will always bring good things to you. I, as your boss, am extremely proud of you and the person you’ve become.”

You smile at the amount of compliments that you were being showered with by one of the most important people in your life and career.

“I made a deal with SM Entertainment.”

Your smile altered to a confused-type-of-look as the words that had just rolled out of the man’s tongue irked you in a way. It wasn’t that you hated SM Entertainment, they were just - a joke - to your company. Your fellow trainees who were in the same class as some of the SM trainees would always talk about how celebrity-like they acted. The girls would joke about how self-centered they were here and there. Of course, you just stood there and listened. You went to an international school and trained almost your whole life, resulting in you almost never interacting with trainees from other companies. Hence, not knowing how they behaved in real life. The only exception was when you appeared in Stray Kids’ music video for God’s Menu. Then again, they weren’t trainees.

“They have decided to transfer a male trainee from their company. He wasn’t exactly fit for their company, but I saw lots of potential in him. They didn’t want to properly let him go. They weren’t going to risk losing another trainee. Therefore, they proposed a deal.”

I think know where this is going.

“Our team had a meeting with their team. We showed them all of the latest monthly evaluations. They decided that they were going to select one of our trainees to be transferred to train at their company and vice versa.”

Oh no, it’s actually happening.

“With lots thinking and negotiation. They chose you. You’ll be picked up by your new manager here at around 8 AM. Y/n, I truly believe that you are going to be an amazing artist. No matter which company you are under. I have faith in you, y/n.”

You were tearing up, “So is this goodbye? An end to years of training here? My home?”

Bang Sihyuk replied, “This isn’t me completely letting you go. It isn’t an end to anything. It’s the start of something wonderful. You are extremely talented, passionate, kind, hardworking, and humble. Whichever company you are in won’t matter. You are an amazing individual and you know it.” The chubbier man had engulfed you in a warm hug. “BigHit will always welcome you with open arms. Whenever you’re feeling empty, you know we’re here for you. You know the boys will do everything to protect their sister, right?”

You nodded into the hug as you pulled away and smiled, “I’ll do my best. I always will. It’s what you taught me.”

“Show ‘em SM kids how they raised you in Bighit!” you laughed at the man, who in a few hours, won’t be your boss anymore.

You spent the few remaining hours of being under the company you grew up in with the members of BTS and TXT. Together, you ate ungodly amounts of Spicy Ramyeon while reminiscing the boys’ trainee days with you.

Oh, how you were going to miss your brothers.

a/n: no nct yet sorry! but we need this for character building :)) did your faves make an appearance/get mentioned?

taglist

none atm so send an ask to be added !

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kanmom51 · 3 years

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The mijo conversation reminded me of how much shit Jungkook had to deal with in a short span of time since 2019. It's no wonder he stopped sharing so much. He even said he just wants people to see what a good man he is. It makes me think if this is why he stopped showing how close he is with Jimin with grand gestures. With the backlash he got for simply living his life like evryone else, it's not hard to believe he had a serious scare of how people would react if they got wind of him being not straight and acting on it. The man needed a break! I can also see why Jimin would be the loudest, besides having a different personality to JK, Jimin may be desensitized to backlash. He's the member who gpt flack early on for being "fat", too clingy, too effeminate. Then his vocals failing him in the 2018 MAMA, which was even mocked on Australian tv and still gets brought up to this day. In that same year, he had the independence shirt incident which massed anger from the alt-right in Japan and got death threats in LA and Las Vegas before their concerts there. He had a live in 2018 where he looked about ready to give up on idol life and said he had no one to talk to. Up until the Paris night in 2019. Eventhough people said wild wild lies about that night, it seemed like it barely affected him anymore like he reached a point where he made peace with that part of his life. In his Bday live in Saudi Arabia, he was so carefree and happy. I'm going off point but how Jimin handled the Paris thing, his general good disposition, how he surprised JK, how he was with JK generally before and after this period, are the reasons I believe him and JK were in a good place during that period. Hence, I can't see JK possibly dating someone else/Mijo if he was bisexual or pansexual. I can't see Jimin being affectionate and loving with a recent ex/someone who cheated on him/or someone he loved who was dating other people. He would have been visibly heartbroken and upset.

anon2:

“bro where are people getting dating from? They were just hugging omg😭😭😭 i thought she was just his tattoo artist? Same thing with tiktok army’s they see a girl staff member in the back talking with the boys and suddenly they’re dating🤣 please free bts from them‼️⁉️🗣🗣 they can’t interact with a girl in peace lol”

anon3:

“Why are people trying to avoid the topic? It’s literally clarifying things. He did nothing wrong so why hid it ? He just hugged a girl that’s all . Nothing wrong with that. It’s not some secret we have to keep🤨”

Nothing to look at here folks. Nothing happened. Two friends spending time together. So what if one of them is an Idol???

Toxic fan base have to leave them alone, but especially her, as she doesn’t have a big scary company to look out for her and protect her.

I feel I have exhausted the subject.

I have conveyed my feelings about what happened, about how ugly I think the backlash is, and how I support both parties involved.

To all those who have sent me more asks on this, if you wish to discuss this further, you can contact me privately. The public discussion is hereby ending.

Love y’all xx

#ask #anon #Jungkook #life of an idol

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wikipediaredoengl199fa20 · 3 years

Text

John Lasseter: Hannah Chestnut’s Wiki Redo! Assignment

TW: SEXUAL ASSUALT, SEXISM

Hannah Chestnut

Wiki! Redo Revisions: Sexual Assault Allegations against John Lasseter

In January of 2019, John Lasseter stepped down from his position as Chief Creative Officer over both Pixar and Disney’s animation studios. As I read through the article at that time, I found Lasseter’s statements extremely underwhelming. He claimed he had taken “missteps” and that he was sorry “to anyone who has ever been on the receiving end of an unwanted hug or any other gesture they felt crossed the line in any way, shape, or form,” and I found my eyes stuck on that phrase, “unwanted hug or any other gesture.” I was thinking to myself that there must be more to the story for a man, who had a net worth of $100 million dollars and was in charge of two of the most successful and prominent animation studios in the world, to voluntarily step down from a company he played a pivotal role in creating. As someone who had extensive knowledge of animation history and the history of both studios, I was extremely confused as to why John Lasseter, one of the most influential advocates for computer animation, would step down from the company and technology he pioneered, to go and work for another studio because of a few “unwanted hugs.”

John Lasseter had been one of the most influential individuals in animation history. He had pioneered computer animation and was a driving force behind bringing that technology to Disney. His influence was not inconsequential, he was one of the most powerful people in animation. So, when I read through all of this, it just didn’t add up to me. It didn’t add up, I was so sure there had to be more to the story. I had forgotten about it until now, and once I found the Wikipedia article for this assignment, I read through it. When I found the section about the allegations, I found one quote detailing the unwanted “grabbing, kissing, making comments about physical attributes.” While this was more than what Lasseter himself had described, it still felt like it must be an understatement. So I decided to do some more investigation into the matter, and thanks to the bravery of a former Pixar employee, I found a full account of the sexist workplace environment Lasseter had created and more details of the allegations against him. Most of the statements and quotes from victims were anonymous, in order to protect their careers within the tightly knit animation community, however Cassandra Smolcic came forward after working at Pixar for 7 years. Her detailed account of how difficult it was to speak out against these microaggressions shed more light onto Lasseter’s discreet departure.

The first revision I made was fixing the language of the first sentence. The original statement was as follows: “In November 2017, Lasseter took a six-month leave of absence after acknowledging allegations of workplace sexual misconduct that he described as "missteps" with employees in a memo to staff.” I changed it to “In November 2017, Lasseter took a six-month leave of absence after allegations of workplace sexual misconduct.” I made this revision in order to take out Lasseter’s underwhelming characterization of his behavior from the first sentence regarding these allegations. I find the inclusion of said quotation to undermine the reality of his harmful actions and to also exclude the voices of women from the account of this problem. This is an example of implicit bias in favor of a powerful man who had abused his power to objectify women in the workplace. The next revision I made was to write an additional paragraph, citing Smolcic’s account of his behaviors at work. Originally there had been no additional information regarding what exactly he had been accused of, and it included no quotations or citations of the women Lasseter assaulted. I felt the exclusion of these quotations failed to give voice to the victims, another example of how the exclusion of information is a form of implicit bias.

Lastly I added more information in the second section about Lasseter’s departure from Pixar and his new position at Skydance Studios. This section only quoted Lasseter, painting himself as someone who “deeply” regretted his actions, and felt acknowledging this behavior would “make him a better leader,” further undermining the unsafe environment Lasseter created at Pixar Studios. In order to remain as neutral as possible, I left this quotation in this section in order to allow Lasseter to speak for himself and to keep record of Lasseter’s statement. But in order to challenge the implicit bias of only quoting Lasseter and Skydance, I added an additional paragraph about how Skydance’s decision to hire Lasseter was not unanimously supported by Skydance employees. In fact, both the actress Emma Thompson and director Alessandro Carloni left the production of the 2021 film “Luck,” after Lasseter’s hiring. Since Emma Thompson made a public statement claiming the reason she left was because of Lasseter joining the production team, I felt giving her a voice as a woman in the entertainment industry would be much better than silence. This was another example of how omitting a certain perspective is indicative of implicit bias.

Sources

Amidi, Amid. “Is Skydance Endangering Its Female Employees? Here Is A List Of Accusations Against John Lasseter.” Cartoon Brew, Toggle Navigation Sign in Membership Film TV Shorts Awards Tech VFX CG Animation VR Tools Biz Business Box Office Report Artist Rights Studios Cities Bay Area London Los Angeles Montreal New York City Vancouver Paris Toronto Charts & Data 2021 Animated Features 2021 New Animated TV Series For Broadcast, Streaming & Cable Most-Viewed Indie Youtube Shorts Streaming Animation Guide Search: Film TV Shorts Interviews Business VFX/Tech Artist Rights Box Office Festivals, 10 Jan. 2019, www.cartoonbrew.com/artist-rights/is-skydance-endangering-its-female-employees-here-is-a-list-of-accusations-against-john-lasseter-168942.html.

Masters, Kim. “John Lasseter Taking Leave of Absence From Pixar Amid ‘Missteps.’” The Hollywood Reporter, 22 Nov. 2017, www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/john-lasseter-taking-leave-absence-pixar-missteps-1057113?utm_source=twitter.

Masters, Kim. “John Lasseter's Pattern of Alleged Misconduct Detailed by Disney/Pixar Insiders.” The Hollywood Reporter, 22 Nov. 2017, www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/john-lasseters-pattern-alleged-misconduct-detailed-by-disney-pixar-insiders-1059594.

North, Anna. “John Lasseter, CEO of Pixar and Walt Disney Animation Studios, Sexual Misconduct Allegations.” Vox.com, Vox, 9 Jan. 2019, www.vox.com/a/sexual-harassment-assault-allegations-list/john-lasseter.

Smolcic, Cassandra. “Pixar's Sexist Boys Club.” Medium, Be Yourself, 24 Sept. 2019, byrslf.co/pixars-sexist-boys-club-9d621567fdc9

Statt, Nick. “Pixar's John Lasseter to Leave Disney Following Sexual Harassment Complaints.” The Verge, The Verge, 8 June 2018, www.theverge.com/2018/6/8/17443370/pixar-walt-disney-animation-john-lasseter-leaving-company-sexual-harassment.

Wit, Alex Dudok de. “Skydance Animation's 'Luck' Loses Director Alessandro Carloni Over 'Creative Differences'.” Cartoon Brew, Toggle Navigation Sign in Membership Film TV Shorts Awards Tech VFX CG Animation VR Tools Biz Business Box Office Report Artist Rights Studios Cities Bay Area London Los Angeles Montreal New York City Vancouver Paris Toronto Charts & Data 2021 Animated Features 2021 New Animated TV Series For Broadcast, Streaming & Cable Most-Viewed Indie Youtube Shorts Streaming Animation Guide Search: Film TV Shorts Interviews Business VFX/Tech Artist Rights Box Office Festivals, 16 Jan. 2020, www.cartoonbrew.com/feature-film/skydance-animations-luck-loses-director-alessandro-carloni-over-creative-differences-184832.html.

Aguilar, Carlos. “Read Emma Thompson's Scorching Resignation Letter To Skydance Over John Lasseter Hiring.” Cartoon Brew, Toggle Navigation Sign in Membership Film TV Shorts Awards Tech VFX CG Animation VR Tools Biz Business Box Office Report Artist Rights Studios Cities Bay Area London Los Angeles Montreal New York City Vancouver Paris Toronto Charts & Data 2021 Animated Features 2021 New Animated TV Series For Broadcast, Streaming & Cable Most-Viewed Indie Youtube Shorts Streaming Animation Guide Search: Film TV Shorts Interviews Business VFX/Tech Artist Rights Box Office Festivals, 26 Feb. 2019, www.cartoonbrew.com/artist-rights/read-emma-thompsons-scorching-resignation-letter-to-skydance-over-john-lasseter-hiring-170742.html.

Allegations of sexual misconduct and exit from Disney/Pixar

See also: Weinstein effect

In November 2017, Lasseter took a six-month leave of absence after allegations of workplace sexual misconduct.[45] The alleged misconduct towards employees included "grabbing, kissing, [and] making comments about physical attributes".[8][9] The alleged conduct became so well known that, according to Variety, at various times, Pixar had "minders who were tasked with reining in his impulses.”

Additionally, former Pixar employee, Cassandra Smolcic, wrote an essay in order to share her experiences of sexism and harassment while working at Pixar. She was told that it had been decided that was “best if you don’t attend art reviews on this production. John has a hard time controlling himself around young pretty girls, so it will be better if we just keep you out of sight.” She also provided details about how John Lasseter behaved at social events outside of work, claiming that “Quite a few of my female friends refused, year after year, to enter the costume contest — even if they’d worked for hours on a prize-worthy outfit — because of how infamously uncomfortable the costume parade became.” All other sources on John Lasseter’s behavior remain anonymous, with one anonymous source asserting that he witnessed Lasseter place “his hand on her knee, though, moving around." This male Pixar employee later asked the woman about this occurrence and reported that, "She said it was unfortunate for her to wear a skirt that day and if she didn't have her hand on her own right leg, his hand would have traveled."

In June 2018, Disney announced that Lasseter was leaving the company at the end of the year, taking a consulting role until then.

Skydance Animation

On January 9, 2019, Lasseter was hired to head Skydance Animation, which will produce animated films with Paramount Animation and Ilion Animation Studios.[1] In a statement, Lasseter expressed his gratitude for the opportunity, adding "I have spent the last year away from the industry in deep reflection, learning how my actions unintentionally made colleagues uncomfortable, which I deeply regret and apologize for. It has been humbling, but I believe it will make me a better leader."[1]

During a meeting at Skydance that same month, Lasseter expressed regret over his actions at Disney and Pixar. Lasseter said that ,"[he] will continue to work every day for the rest of [his] life to prove [...] that [he has] grown and learned".[47] An investigation conducted prior to his hiring found that no previous claims of sexual assault, propositioning or harassment had been filed against Lasseter,[47] and "[...] there were no findings of secret settlements by Disney or Lasseter to any parties asking for a settlement.”

However, Skydance’s decision to hire Lasseter was met with internal controversies. Both Emma Thompson and director Alessandro Carloni left the production of the upcoming 2021 film, “Luck,” Thompson, leaving with a publicly published letter to the studio, questioned why the studio “would consider hiring someone with Mr. Lasseter’s pattern of misconduct given the present climate in which people with the kind of power that you have can reasonably be expected to step up to the plate.” She also asked the studio if the women working at Skydance were “supposed to feel comforted that women who feel that their careers were derailed by working for Lasseter DIDN’T receive money?”

According to The Hollywood Reporter, inside sources have said that Alessandro Carloni left the project after this letter was published, citing “creative differences” as the explanation behind Carloni’s departure. (387 words)

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winchesterandpie · 5 years

Text

Part of the Company Part 5 (Thorin x reader)

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x Reader

Word count: 3332

Warnings: None

A/N: A million billion thanks to the amazing @jezzula for helping me edit (seriously, you’re the best, ily)! We’re still on a bit of a slow burn here, but you’ll have to see how much longer that lasts... *evil cackling* Gif is not mine! Translations are from https://islenthatur.wordpress.com/welcome/

Enjoy!! I love you all!!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

I did not like this bag. It was itchy, it was restrictive, it was currently impeding me from going on a murderous rage, and just an overall 1/10 experience, to say nothing of our impending fate of being eaten. I wouldn’t recommend it. To be fair, I wasn’t on the spit yet, but being under a pile of dwarves wasn’t much better.

“Don’t bother cooking them. Let’s just sit on them and squash them into jelly.” Now, that sounded like a thoroughly unpleasant prospect.

“They should be sautéed and grilled with a sprinkle of sage.” At least with that idea my death wouldn’t be wholly unstylish. Points for artistic creativity to that troll.

“Ooh, that does sound quite nice.” The dwarves were grumbling and complaining about the situation, but I had tuned them out in the hopes of hearing something useful.

“Never mind the seasoning; we ain’t got all night!” Oh? This could be interesting. “Dawn ain’t far away, so let’s get a move on. I don’t fancy being turned to stone.” Definitely interesting. Now I just had to get out from under a pile of dwarves and stall the trolls. As it just so happened, Bilbo had the same idea as I did, and he was on top of the pile.

“Wait! You’re making a terrible mistake!” Bilbo called.

“You can’t reason with them, they’re half-wits!”

“Half-wits? What does that make us?” Somehow, after more than a century with dwarves, it never failed to surprise me how thick-skulled dwarves could be. Bilbo hopped up in his sack, turning to the trolls.

“Uh, I meant with the, uh, with, uh, with the seasoning.” There we go - stalling tactics.

“What about the seasoning?” The trolls’ interest was piqued, especially the one only one who seemed to have any sort of taste buds.

“Well have you smelled them? You’re going to need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up.” He definitely wasn’t wrong, and I chuckled at the thought. The dwarves, on the other hand, didn’t find it quite as funny.

“What do you know about cooking dwarf?”

“Shut up and let the, uh, flurgaburburrahobbit talk.”

“Uh, the.. the secret to cooking dwarf is, um--” Uh oh. He was freezing up under the scrutiny. Admittedly, for one unaccustomed to such demands, he was doing a decent job. But a decent job could still get us all killed.

“Yes? Come on.”

“It’s, uh”

“Tell us the secret.” The trolls were impatient, and we were running out of time.

“Ye-yes, I’m telling you, the secret is…” Come on, Bilbo, you can do it! “... to skin them first!” Apparently not. That was definitely not the life-saving stalling tactic I’d been hoping for.

“Tom, get me the filleting knife,” the troll said, holding out a hand, as the dwarves breathed out threatenings in Bilbo’s direction. I was too shocked to say anything immediately, and by the time I could more action was unfolding. I probably would have laughed at how nervous he was… if I wasn’t so directly involved in the situation.

“What a load of rubbish! I’ve eaten plenty with their skins on. Scuff them, I say, boots and all.”

“He’s right! Nothing wrong with a bit of raw dwarf!” One of the monsters grabbed Bombur’s sack, lifting it towards his mouth. “Nice and crunchy.”

“Not-- not that one, he--he’s infected!” This idea actually had some potential.

“You what?”

“Yeah, he’s got worms in his… tubes.” That seemed to do the trick - the troll tossed Bombur back onto the pile, and I could practically see the light bulb go off in Bilbo’s head. Unfortunately, this meant that the already limited oxygen in my lungs got forced out abruptly, leaving me gasping for breath for a moment. Breathing hurt, but I couldn’t tell if something was wrong or if it was just the result of the weight piled on top of me.

“In-in fact they all have. They’re infested with parasites. It’s a terrible business - I wouldn’t risk it. I really wouldn’t,” Bilbo said, gaining confidence as he went on.

“Parasites? Did he say parasites?”

“We don’t have parasites! You have parasites!”

“What are you talking about, laddie?”

The dwarves were quite vocal about how much they absolutely did not have parasites. In any other situation it would have been laughing, but here it could prove fatal.

“He’s right!” I shouted over the grumpy dwarves, forcing myself not to gasp at the pain in my chest. “They’ve got a massive infestation. I’ve been traveling with them for a year now - I should know!”

“And you don’t?” The troll raised an eyebrow

“I’m a girl! It’s a well known fact that girls don’t get parasites!”

Thorin seemed to get the message and shot me a look before kicking the others in the pile.

That seemed to jolt them into an understanding, which thankfully diverted the trolls’ attention from the fact that it would indeed make me edible, which I had realized too late.

“I’ve got parasites as big as my arm!”

Mine are the biggest parasites! I’ve got huge parasites!” Ever the competitive one, Kili’s parasites just had to be the biggest. There was no way I was going to let him forget it.

“We’re riddled!”

“Yes, I’m riddled!”

“Yes, we are! Badly!” I was never going to let any of them live this exact moment down.

“What would you have us do, then? Let ‘em all go?” This troll came to stand before Bilbo, and his tone indicated that he was catching on. That couldn’t be a good sign.

“Well…”

“You think I don’t know what you’re up to?” The troll emphasized his point by poking the poor hobbit. “This little ferret is taking us for fools!”

“Ferret?”

“Fools?” Both hobbit and troll sounded indignant at the other troll’s insult. All of a sudden, Gandalf stepped out onto a large rock and relief flooded through my system.

“The dawn will take you all!” The whole company seemed to take a breath in relief at the wizard’s appearance.

“Who’s that?” one of the trolls asked.

“No idea.”

“Can we eat ‘im too?”

In an instant that seemed to freeze in time, Gandalf lifted up the staff before slamming it down onto the ground, causing the rock to split in two. Light flooded the clearing and the trolls tried to shield their eyes as slowly their skin seemed to turn to drying clay. With a final growl, they hardened in place, frozen forever as stone statues.

Cheers went up from the grinning dwarves and I laughed giddily. Even Thorin cracked a smile. We were safe now.

“Oh, get your foot out of my back!” Dwalin grumbled loudly.

Bilbo and Gandalf got the first of the dwarves’ scratchy burlap prisons untied, and the dwarves moved to help the others. Once the pile was cleared from off the top of me, Kili bent to cut open the sack while Fili did the same for his uncle. Several set to getting the dwarves off the spit after putting out the fire from below them.

“Are you alright?” Thorin was at my side as soon as we were both free, scanning me for injuries as he poked and prodded my abdomen. I wasn’t about to tell him I had messed up my ribs - he was too concerned for me already

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” I insisted, but when he hit one of my ribs, I couldn’t keep from flinching. “Ahhhh. I think I might have bruised a rib or two when Bombur landed on us.”

“Oin!” he called out, worry coloring his tone.

“Thorin, I’ll be fine,” I tried to reassure him. “Really, there’s nothing he can do for a bruised rib.”

“What is it you need, laddie?” Oin approached.

“It’s Y/N’s ribs - she thinks she bruised them when the troll dropped Bombur back onto the pile.” Thorin’s hand was still on my arm, warm and steady.

“I’m sorry to say it, but there’s naught to be done for a rib injury, Thorin.” Oin gestured helplessly. “I can get ya something for the pain when we get a camp set up, lassie.” With another shrug, he turned back to where the other dwarves were.

“Told you so,” I said, breathing as shallowly as possible as I wrapped an arm protectively around myself. “Seriously though, I’ll be alright. It’s nothing a little time won’t fix. Though I think a few more days off firewood collecting duty wouldn’t go amiss.” Thorin chuckled, and I laughed a little before flinching at the pain it caused. This was definitely not going to be a comfortable few days on the road.

“I think we can find a way to ensure that.” His hand still rested on my arm, and the other came up to brush a piece of hair away from my face. He was so close, and I wished desperately that he would just lean a little closer… Whoa, kiddo… Hold your horses, there. I knew full well nothing would ever come of my feelings for Thorin, especially since I wasn’t even from Middle Earth. Gandalf thumping one of the trolls’ foreheads with a satisfied look on his face brought us abruptly out of… whatever that was. “I must speak to Gandalf. Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“I’ll be fine, worrywart.” I sent him off with a wave and a reassuring smile. He nodded once and turned to Gandalf. Once his concerned gaze left me, I sank down onto a convenient log, holding my ribs in a vain attempt to keep them from moving.

“Y/N? What happened?” A concerned Fili quickly made an appearance at my side, with Kili not far behind him. I tried to wave them off, not keen to have more people worrying and fussing over me. A grumpy, overprotective, sweet king was more than enough. By the valar, I’m hopeless, I thought, rolling my eyes at my mental description of Thorin.

“It’s nothing time won’t heal. I’m fine. Go worry about Bilbo.”

“Are you sure?” Kili’s wide-eyed puppy dog look would’ve had anyone else melting.

“Yes!” I snapped. It wouldn’t work on me today. They held up their hands in meek surrender, backing off to go find the hobbit. I’d have to apologize later.

“You lot, on your feet. We’re going looking for the troll’s cave.” There was grumbling at the order, there always was when the company had to get up, but they rose nonetheless.

“Up you get.” Thorin extended a hand to me when he was within reach, his voice gentler than it had been a moment ago.

“Do I have to?” I tried Kili’s tactic of puppy-dog eyes, not wanting to move just yet.

“We have to keep moving, my azaghâl (warrior).” Apparently I wasn’t as adept at it as Kili was. “I wish I could give you more than that.”

“Fine,” I sighed dramatically. “Help me up, then.” With a mischievous grin, he lifted me carefully in his arms and started walking back toward our horses.

“Put me down, you ridiculous dwarf!” I smacked him playfully on the shoulder. “My legs are still perfectly functional.”

“You didn’t really think I’d be so cruel as to make you walk all the way to your horse after making you get up, did you?”

“I know better than to expect anything from the Heir of Durin. Anything but trouble, that is,” I teased affectionately, feeling the rumble of his laughter in his chest.

“If you hadn’t gone and injured yourself, I’d be seriously considering dropping you right now.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“I suppose I’ll let you off with a warning this time. After all, what would Dis say?” He set me down next to Obsidian just long enough to pick me up by my waist and lift me onto the horse’s back. “Can you manage to stay on him on your own?”

“I’ll be fine, Thorin,” I reassured him. “Let’s just find that troll cave so I can sleep.” With a nod, he turned to lead company, the rest of which had remained on foot.

I just can’t leave you alone for ten minutes, can I? Obsidian’s gaze seemed to ask me as the dark-haired dwarf looked over his shoulder at my repeatedly. He’s worried about you.

“Hush, Dian. He worries about everyone in the company.”

Not like how he worries about you.

“Oh please, he’s a king. Thorin could never think of a commoner like that, let alone me.”

Obsidian flicked his ears in disagreement, but dropped the subject.

It wasn’t long before the cave was found. Reeking like nothing else I’d ever smelled certainly helped lead us to it.

“‘Stay out here.’ ‘Don’t get off the horse.’” I mimicked, complete with obnoxious expressions. “Ugh. Dwarves.”

You’re the one who likes him. Obsidian rattled his mane at me.

“Oh, be quiet. It doesn’t matter anyways.”

I would have much rather been exploring the troll hoard than stuck outside doing nothing as Thorin had insisted. On the other hand, I was grateful for the fresh air. Even from out here, I could smell a little of what the inside must’ve smelled like, and it wasn’t pleasant.

“We’re makin’ a long term deposit,” Gloin explained himself to Dwalin, who was making a face at their digging.

“Let’s get out of this foul place. Come on, let’s go!” Thorin’s commanding voice rang out, but the dwarves kept burying their treasure. “ Bofur! Gloin! Nori!” Reluctantly, they stood, kicking a last spray of dirt before they obeyed Thorin.

The king himself came towards me, a new sword and bow in hand.

“Find anything interesting?”

“An elvish sword and an elvish bow caught my eye. I wondered if you might like to have the bow?” He extended the bow to me to examine. I took it, awed by the fine workmanship.

“Thorin, this is incredible! Thank you.” I reached out a hand to rest on his shoulder in gratitude. He smiled at my enthusiasm, lifting his hand to cover mine. I would’ve hugged him if he wouldn’t have had a fit the moment I tried to get off the horse.

“I’m glad you like it.” His fingers intertwined with mine. “I hope it serves you well.” A sudden commotion of wildlife in the trees had us tensing up.

“Thorin? What do you think that is?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, dropping my hand to draw his sword before alerting the company. “Something’s coming!”

“Gandalf!”

“Stay together! Hurry now! Arm yourselves,” Gandalf rallied the dwarves, jogging together into the trees. I laid an arrow on my new bowstring, ready for whatever would come.

A sled drawn by rabbits came crashing through the trees toward us. The scruffy, brown-clad figure pulled them to a stop by us.

“Thieves! Fire! Murder!” He shouted. That was never something reassuring to hear from someone you didn’t know.

“Radagast! Radagast the Brown!” Gandalf warmly greeted the new person. Since Gandalf relaxed, the rest of us relaxed too, content to trust Gandalf. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you, Gandalf. Something’s wrong. Something’s terribly wrong.”

“Yes?” That didn’t sound like good news at all.

Radagast opened his mouth, making as if to speak, only he didn’t. His mouth closed again, before repeating several times, as though he’d forgotten what he was about to say.

“Oh, just give me a minute. Um… Oh, I had a thought, and now I’ve lost it. It was… it was right there - on the tip of my tongue!” He curled his tongue, making an odd face as Gandalf’s brows drew together. “Oh, it’s not a thought at all - it’s a silly old…” He paused briefly as the grey wizard pulled a bug out of his mouth. “Stick insect!” Radagast finished.

That was definitely not the “impressive wizard” image that Gandalf seemed to carefully cultivate, and I could tell that the dwarves were more than confused by it. I think Gandalf could tell, for he led Radagast a little ways away so that they could discuss their “wizard business” in private.

“Am I allowed down now?”

“I’ve a feeling something is coming. I would feel better if you stayed up there for now.”

“Thorin, you realize that I can defend myself, right?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Of course you can, I taught you myself.”

“Then why don’t you trust me to do it?” I’m sure my eyes betrayed something of what I felt, and his eyes softened immediately.

“I do, Y/N. I do trust you.” He set one of his hands on my knee, as if urging me to understand something. “I just… I can’t risk losing you.”

“You won’t lose me, Melhekhul! (my king) I simply wish to be more helpful than I can be here.”

“Normally, I would agree with you, but you’re injured right now, and I have a bad feeling that something is on its way. Something dangerous.” This memory of the movie was coming back to me, and he was right - wargs were coming.

“I suppose you have a point.” I dropped my eyes from his gaze. After all, he was right, and it was obvious that he was being careful because he cared and not to try to annoy me.

A howl split the air, a little ways in the distance, making my hair stand on end. Obsidian’s ears flicked back and forth as he pranced around uneasily.

“Was that a wolf? Are there -- are there wolves out there?” Bilbo looked up suddenly, clearly on edge.

“Wolves? No, that is not a wolf.” Bofur answered him

“Thorin, look out!” I shouted when I saw a warg appear above us. It leapt down, but Thorin quickly struck it with Orcrist, killing it instantly. While his sword was still stuck in the warg’s corpse, another one showed its ugly head on the other side. Kili got off a shot at it, and it fell close to Thorin, but it wasn’t dead yet. I took a shot at it, my arrow piercing directly through its eye and into its brain at the same moment that Dwalin hit it hard with an axe.

“Warg-Scouts! Which means an Orc pack is not far behind.” Thorin said urgently as he freed his sword.

“Orc pack?”

“Don’t worry, Bilbo, we’ll protect you,” I assured him, hoping to be able to make good on that.

“Who did you tell about your quest, beyond your kin?”

“No one,” Thorin answered the wizard’s query.

“Who did you tell?” I could see where Gandalf’s urgency came from - somebody was after us, and somehow they had to have learned of our quest.

“No one, I swear,” Thorin insisted. “What in Durin’s name is going on?”

“You’re being hunted.” At those words, Thorin moved closer to me, as though attempting to stand between me and the danger we could not see.

“We have to get out of here.”

“We can’t! We have no ponies; they bolted.” If I were a horse, I definitely would’ve bolted as well. I was lucky that Obsidian hadn’t, though the pony was a brave one. His muscles were taut, his ears pinned flat, but he hadn’t run.

“I’ll draw them off,” Radagast offered.

“These are Gundabad Wargs, they will outrun you,” Gandalf pointed it out as though it were obvious.

“These are Rhosgobel Rabbits. I’d like to see them try.” The Brown Wizard smirked, taking it for a challenge.

“I’ll help draw them off.” I nudged Obsidian forward a couple of steps.

“No, I forbid it.”

“Thorin, I could be helpful. If you insist that I stay on Obsidian, then at least let me help.”

“Did you not hear Gandalf? These are Gundabad Wargs.”

“So what? Not even a Gundabad Warg can outrun a pony. And I’ve got a bow and plenty of arrows.” He was hesitating - my logic was wearing down his opposition, if only because the number of options was limited.

“Alright. But don’t take unnecessary risks, do you understand me?”

“Thorin, I’ll be fine. Now let’s go before they find us.”

Muahahaha... Gotta love cliffhangers, right? Hope you enjoyed!

Part Six

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wackygoofball · 5 years

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Hey, I want to say that I absolutely love your Jaime x Brienne moodboard AUs and cannot WAIT for Season 8 to kick off! I was watching Music and Lyrics the other day and was wondering if you'd done a moodboard for that yet? Because I think that would be amazing!

Hi anon, thanks for the lovely suggestion and for enjoying my moodboards! I love the movie to bits and pieces, it’s such a fun movie. Since I haven’t created a moodboard yet, it is now done. I hope it is to your liking:

Jaime Lannister is afailing musician. Back in his prime, his little brother and he started a kindof boyband, or a “mock band” as they called it, formed for the sole reason tospite their father and repay him for the unfair treatment particularly towardshis youngest son. Jaime played guitar, composed, and was the lead singerwhereas Tyrion took care of writing the lyrics, background singing, and themarketing behind the scenes.

Surprisingly, their mockband proved successful and soon they were actually superstars, gave concerts,landed on cover magazines and were offered dozens of contracts. In fact, theymade enough money to have a chance to break free from the family business, awelcome opportunity after Tywin threated to disown them both, should they continue“this utter folly any longer.”

However, things turnedsouth after that rather quicly: Jaime and Tyrion parted on very unkind terms,resulting in the younger brother going to Essos whereas Jaime remained in Westeros,with their mock band’s success soon no longer living up to its former glories.

Not wanting to crawl backto his family, Jaime decided to stay in the music business on his own andattempt a solo career. However, that didn’t work out greatly either, which lefthim under the belief rather fast that Tyrion was right with what he said to himbefore they parted – that Jaime never had any actual talent as an artist and hadonly ever been there for the looks. Then, Jaime got into an accident whileonstage, which left his right hand permanently damaged, thus making itimpossible for him to play instruments the way he used to.

In the present day, Jaimelets his not-at-all-too-great manager Bronn Blackwater run his business andorganize gigs in theme parks, furniture stores, and for mall openings where he performsthe old songs from the mock band all by himself.

Bronn surprises him withthe sudden job offer by rising star Daenerys Targaryen, a blonde beauty whocaused one sensation after another back in Essos, and now wants to launch hercareer in Westeros. She is invested in mixtures of modern beats with touches ofthe music of those places she visited on her journeys, including Dothraki folkmusic. Daenerys is looking for someone to write her a love song after she justrecently had to break up with her boyfriend Daario Naharis, to pursue her musiccareer in Westeros.

Bronn’s first attempts tofind Jaime a songwriter, since Jaime refuses to write songs, well aware that heis “not good with words,” quickly end in disaster when the man thinks his edgylyrics will do them any favors and insists on his artistic genius whereas Jaimejust finds that he is a pain in the arse.

His attention soon driftsaway from the self-absorbed guy over to the mannish woman who suddenly winded upat his apartment this very day to water his plants. She appears in place forhis old friend Catelyn Stark who normally volunteers to the task because shewants to check on him and Jaime just lets it happen so Cat won’t make noiseabout it. The blonde woman keeps humming along to the first music tunes Jaimestarted to put together, but soon makes up her own lyrics as she continues towater his plants – including those made of plastic – and Jaime must say: herlyrics are on point.

On a whim, he decides tofire the self-absorbed pain-in-the-ass songwriter and asks the woman carrying ablue watering can whether she wants to become a songwriter for him.

“… I don’t even know you. Iam just here to water some plants.”

“The name is JaimeLannister, pleased to meet you. And I think you drowned all of themsufficiently, Miss…”

“Brienne of Tarth, butBrienne’s enough.”

“Well, Brienne, then I’m just Jaime to you. So now that we are on firstname basis, how about you reconsider my offer? You would be paid real goodmoney and did I mention that you would be writing for Daenerys Targaryen?”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“She is the next risingstar in the music industry.”

“I honestly don’t know herand I should be on my way. Good day, sir, I mean… Jaime.”

And with that, shedisappears as fast as she came. Normally, Jaime would leave it at that and lookfor someone else, but time is scarce and he has to get that tape to DaenerysTargaryen as soon as possible if he wants to have any chance to get out of the endlesslimbo of mall openings and having his butt grabbed by way too eager fans. Thus,he continues to chase the woman, thankfully, Cat proves useful by providing himwith some information about her, though she cautions him that she is protectiveof her employee and won’t allow any harm to come to her.

“I wouldn’t ever. Cat, you knowme.”

“Well enough to know thatthis is right up your alley.”

“I thought you grew tobegrudgingly accept me.”

“Because you helped me getmy girls back. Other than that, I still consider you a nuisance at best.”

“You always have such nicewords for me, I feel blessed.”

Jaime eventually tracksBrienne down and confronts her about his offer another time, finding himselfalmost (but just almost) pleading herto at least give it a try.

“I need someone to writethe song for me.”

“But you are a musician. Youare a professional. Can’t you do that yourself far better?”

“I’m not a songwriter. Ican’t write lyrics for the life of it. I shit you not, I even struggled readingin school. C’mon, help a failing artist in need, wench.”

“What did you just call me?”

“I love old insults.”

“You are serious aboutthis.”

“As serious as someonefrequently showing up at furniture stores with sequined jackets can possiblybe.”

“Wow, you are desperate.”

“You have no clue.”

“Well, I suppose it can’tharm. And anyway, I still ought to water your plants.”

“They are all dead, buttheir sacrifice will be worth it so long you write this song for me.”

“They are all dead? What?”

“Well, the plastic ones arejust drenched. But that shouldn’t matter, we ought to get started. Now.”

And so, Brienne findsherself at Jaime Lannister’s apartment, pondering song lyrics for the veryfirst time in her life. It’s not like writing is at all unfamiliar to her. Backin college, she even took writing classes, always having felt an affinity forknightly tales already during childhoold. And of course there was that oneshort excursion into the life of an author, but that is something she won’tever revisit in a lifetime.

No thanks.

She remains surprised athow enthusiastic and eager Jaime is about her lyrics, which poses a starkcontrast to him being annoyed with her and her methods half the time, butBrienne finds that Jaime has to deal with that if he wants those lyrics fromher.

Though he won’t stopcalling her wench, no matter her insistence.

And Brienne must say, JaimeLannister is not at all what she first thought him to be, even more so aftershe watched some odd videos of hispast performances and finds herself dragged to one of his gigs in a theme parkshortly thereafter. Because Jaime did not lie about the women grabbing him in very inappropriate places. While he canbe a pompous ass, Brienne soon has to realize that beneath the sequined jacketsand easy smiles is a man who struggles with his identity as a musician afterhis injury made it impossible for him to compose the way he used to, thus beingforced to keep that old spark alive with playback tunes of the former mock band’sgreatest hits.

And oddly so, she findsherself relating to that. Because Jaime Lannister is not the only onestruggling with coming to terms with the past.

The deadline keeps drawingto a close, but they are making good progress. To celebrate, Jaime invites Brienneto have some dinner in his favorite restaurant just down the street when thingstake a sudden turn. Brienne storms out of the restaurant when she catches sightof a man enjoying dinner with some business friends, it appears. Jaime chasesafter her and has to tease it out of Brienne that she and the man in therestaurant have a history:

Some years back, Brienne workedat Renly Baratheon’s company as his personal assistant but soon grew to be hisright-hand woman, impressing with her writing talent that soon surpassed thoseof any other senior, something that did not sit well with most of thepredominantly male staff. Though Brienne didn’t really care in the beginning,since she joined to be around the man she was secretly in love with, she becamemore conscious of her position as she was more and more successful over time.However, then Brienne found herself caught up by sudden attention coming from anumber of co-workers who suddenly wanted to date her. One man went too farduring a team-building exercise, and she pushed him away, only for him to burnhis arse in a campfire. As a result, she was ordered to a mediation sessionwith him and personnel manager Randyll Tarly, the very same man currentlydining in the restaurant. When the guy threatened to sue for assault, Briennethreatened back with charges for sexual harassment, only for the man to saythat this was “not worth the wager.” It was thus revealed that he and the guyswho wanted to suddenly date her had a bet on who would get her to sleep withone of them first. Brienne thought Mr. Tarly would be on her side, but, despitehis insistence that he would have sanctions be handed out to the menresponsible, insisted that she certainly was to be held responsible for it aswell. What did she expect, as a woman in her position, taking up all thatattention?

That alone nearly brokeBrienne, but things just kept getting worse because Renly’s company had to filefor bankruptcy and he had to return back to Storm’s End. Not wanting to accept“defeat” and to go back to her father as utter disappointment, Brienne took theoffer Catelyn, a business partner she got to know through Renly, made her inthe aftermath. Thus, she departed from Bitterbridge and followed Cat to King’sLanding to start working for her instead.

Brienne spent most days inhiding thereafter, always feeling haunted by rumors about her, a circumstancethat found its epic peak when Randyll Tarly published a guidebook for personnelmanagers wherein he described “fictional cases,” at the heart of which stoodBrienne’s case. And the light he shed on her was not at all favorable, to saythe very least. To make matters impossibly worse, the book became a bestseller,as most people found Mr. Tarly’s dry and tough retellings oddly amusing.

“End of story.”

Brienne doesn’t want to goback into the restaurant at all, which is why she begs Jaime to just leave andgo somewhere else, but Jaime decides that it’s time she lives up to her ownbest example, being stubborn and brave past the point of sense at times, andfinally confront the man who brought her so much harm.

Brienne reluctantly agrees,but remains somewhat mute, until Jaime takes the lead and echoes what she toldhim, emphasizing how she is now a successful songwriter. Mr. Tarly lives up toany negative expectation Jaime may have had of the guy, revealing himself asthe cock he took him to be. Brienne is utterly shocked that Jaime comes to her defenseand understands just how much it hurt her, since she is so used that men expecther to always be strong and tough when deep-down, she could use some support,too. But Jaime gets it – and gives it to her when she needs it most.

In the aftermath, the twofall into bed together, or rather, under the piano, no longer able to denytheir burgeoning feelings for one another, no matter how dead Jaime’s plantsmay continue to be as a result of that union.

As things continue, Jaimealso finds himself opening up to her about how he ended up where he is now, howTyrion went behind his back to destroy his father’s company and that this wasthe reason why they broke up their partnership as fellow musicians and puttheir relationship as brothers on a hold.

Jaime admits he becamehesitant to compose, let alone write lyrics, after his injury, and after hissolo album flopped so badly that no one bought the last CD in the store downthe road for the past years – and he should know, he marked it. Jaime stuck toplaying the old songs because he doesn’t have to present anything new. Instead,he can just hit play button and make his audience happy.

It is Brienne who encourageshim to try again as a composer, to dare to be an artist again, after he came tobelieve that he never was one. After all, they will have to present somethingnew to Daenerys if they want to convince her. She also encourages him to takeadvantage of “the flaws” Jaime now finds in his music that come due to hisinjury, telling him that this is what she aimed at when she unsuccessfullypublished her own book as a struggle against Mr. Tarly that sadly failed, towrite flawed characters, and cherish their imperfections.

“That’s what makes theminteresting. That’s what makes them unique. And that is what makes your musicunique, too. I think you have to dare to tell your own story, because there issurely a lot to tell. But for that… you have to dare.”

The two make it at the verylast minute to deliver a decent song, and at last they meet the starletDaenerys Targaryen. While she likes the song and agrees to go with it, shedemands that they compose another verse.

As the two continue to worktowards the new deadline, they enjoy their blooming romance, but drama is justaround the corner when Jaime finally meets Daenerys’s manager – namely hisformer manager, Tyrion.

The younger man actuallypushed some buttons to get Jaime on Daenerys’s list because he hoped to takethat as a starting point to renew their relationship, but Jaime feels all themore betrayed because he does not need his brother’s pity.

“You made clear that youthink I don’t have talent, but if you think that pitching me as a partner foryour client only just to get closer to me again, then you are perhaps not thebest manager after all.”

“I am honest about this.”

“You knew that I was andwon’t ever be a gifted songwriter. That was always you, not me. So why assignme to a task involving such to repair our relationship? Why embarrass me likethat?”

“Because I… I was wrong andwanted to show you that you were never without talent. It’s something I saidout of anger, to piss you off. And I stopped writing songs long time ago.Daenerys writes her own. I am just… a shitty manager, it appears.”

“Well, I don’t need yourpity points. I managed without you, even after you abandoned me.”

Jaime feels like cancellingthe entire plan for a while, and is surprised when Brienne isn’t in the leastmad at him but shows understanding for his situation, actually supporting himwhatever decision he may make. While she insists that she believes what theycreated thus far is better than just “pity points,” she will respect hisdecision, so long he commits to it. Jaime eventually agrees to carry on and thetwo get back on track to finish the last verse.

They are invited to seeDaenerys before the deadline, who says she did some adaptations to the songsshe would want them to hear, but neither one can say they are particularlyimpressed.

“I believe this is thesound of a Dothraki wedding, and those are scary as hell, involve sex andpotentially murder,” Jaime whispers at Brienne, though he won’t say so out loudwhen Daenerys wants to hear their opinion, declaring how proud she is of theproduct since it is a way for her to “honor” her “heritage.”

Brienne wants to tell herthat she finds the song horrid, but Jaime prevents her from it, something thatupsets her very much since Brienne always lives by the paradigm of honestyforemost. However, Jaime says that she asked him to commit, and he committed tohave that album produced.

“If we tell her that thisis shit, I will get fired and we end up with nothing. Then all of this will befor nothing.”

“You wanted to call it off before!”

“Because of my brother. Thatwas something entirely different.”

“And not because theproduct is bad? I thought you wanted to finally become an artist in your ownright.”

“Well, maybe that’s just asfar as I will ever get. Ever crossed your mind? I also have to pay a rent, youknow? And who knows, maybe other arrangements will follow after I get my footback into the door of the industry. You told me I should stop standing still,and now you tell me to do just that. You have to make up your mind at somepoint.”

“You are craven.”

“Well, that’s rich comingfrom a woman who spent her entire career in hiding. First under Renly, thenunder Cat. You could be so much more if you finally stopped tailing afterpeople who treat you with no more than basic human decency. You knew Renlywouldn’t love you back, and yet you stayed. Why? Because you hide away as muchas I do. Because you are afraid of actually… being in love.”

“I did love him. What are you saying?”

“You loved him because itwas safe from a distance. You had some bad experiences with those guys, but notall are like that. You hide away from love because you are afraid of people’simperfections. Because no one will ever match those knights you write about. Becauseyes, I read your book. I bought it like you bought my last CD.”

Brienne is all the moreshocked, not having anticipated that suddenly, this conversation would be aboutthem as a couple the same way it is about them as partners in the production ofthis song.

“You told me you embracedthose flawed characters. I read every single page. That guy? He is bloody wellall that you thought Renly was to you. Flawed characters don’t have happyending stories, Brienne. They don’t realize how wrong they were all along andfinally go for the girl who’s hidden in the shadows. They make mistakes, a lotof them. They sometimes love so much that it hurts. You are in love with afantasy of what love is, but you wouldn’t know what it is if it bit you in the arsebecause you can’t even bring yourself to love yourself despite or ratherbecause of your flaws. So really, get off your high horse and stop blaming mefor not living up to the fantasy of a man you will never meet because he is notreal. This industry is no fairytale, we are no characters in this fairytale. Thereality is that I am trying my best, but if that is not good enough for you,then maybe you should see whether your expectations, in any way, match realityof… life, not fiction.”

“Why are you saying that?”

“Because I am not Renly.Because I am no knight in shining armor. I am a failed musician who is holdingon to his career by a single thread who listened to you and now is getting shitfrom you because he is doing just what you told him to do.”

“I told you to commit.”

“And I commit to my career.”

“You commit to thisbullshit she calls a song.”

“Because that is thebusiness.”

“Which is why I can’t everbe a songwriter, I fear.”

“I fear so, too. Because theenvironment wherein you can live and never eat some crow along the way, acceptsome missteps, is, in fact… nothing but fiction.”

Brienne storms out afterthat, leaving Jaime to finish the verse by himself, even though that provesnearly impossible, considering that all he can think about is Brienne. To hissurprise, Brienne forwards the last verse to Daenerys to save his career, whichmakes him feel doubly bad for how they parted and what he said to her. However,it may be true that their fantasy is over and they played their final song.

Or maybe not?

#jaime x brienne #jaime lannister #brienne of tarth #game of thrones #got moodboard #got aesthetic #moodboard #aesthetic #anon #thanks anon #i love this movie so much #wacky tries gimp

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rkdoyoung · 5 years

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✧ ✧ ✧ ━━━━━━━ & IF YOU SAID THIS LIFE AIN’T GOOD ENOUGH, I WOULD GIVE MY W O R L D TO LIFT YOU UP --- HAVANA x SMOOTH by CAMILA CABELLO x SANTANA feat. ROB THOMAS

he thinks nothing of it when he receives a notification on his phone about a new email. he often gets newsletters from companies and organizations he doesn’t even remember signing up for, and lots of other mail he doesn’t really deem urgent, so he allows the notification to sit untouched for hours until he completes his shift at the hospital and is able to return home. it’s only when he’s splayed out on his back on his bed, phone held up in the air that he’s able to read the email he’s received from mnet staff.

needless to say, he nearly drops his phone on his face.

jooyoung is someone who is fairly confident in his skills---he wouldn’t be able to perform in hongdae so often if he weren’t---but even he’d had his doubts about getting any sort of call back from mnet about continuing on in the competition. he hadn’t been able to see anyone else’s performances, but judging but the sheer amount of people alone (and at only one of the venues, no less!), he could only estimate how many even more talented people were there that could nudge him out of the running. it’s a pleasant surprise, but one that sends him into a mild panic as he immediately sits up, trying to figure out what to perform this time around.

he spends every free moment he has leading up to the callbacks practicing, and he swears his callouses have grown callouses from all the time he spends on his electric guitar, arranging and rearranging the mashup so that it’s smooth and cohesive, disallowing any sort of break in the rhythm that could take anyone watching out of and away from his performance. he wants them to be drawn in and focused on him the entire time.

on the day of the actual callbacks, he arrives at the venue with hyojin, whom he’s more than excited for having received a callback as well. his body is filled with nervous energy, but it’s thrilling, exciting. there are significantly less other mga hopefuls this time around, but it does little to calm him knowing that this is truly the cream of the crop, hand-picked and ready to be handed over to the harsh opinions of both the public and the judges who sit at the panel, watching and observing their every triumph and every mistake.

he scans the crowd---his competition---looking for a place to sit among them. he almost settles on taking a seat in a relatively empty area, giving ample space around both him and hyojin, but then he spots a familiar face---too familiar---and nearly loses his shit. he probably should have realized sooner when seungmin had said he was going for an audition that it would be for the mgas as well, but it genuinely never crossed his mind until now. needless to say, he’s ecstatic, and he grabs his cousin’s hand and heads in the direction of the youngest of the kim brothers, footsteps as quiet as a mouse, grin as wide as the endless horizon.

he plops down next to seungmin while his little brother isn’t looking, blurting out the first thing he can think of. “man, i’m nervous. how about you?”

he’d expected seungmin to be surprised because he hadn’t really told anyone but hyojin that he was even trying out, but the fact that his own brother didn’t even seem to know that he was pursuing music was like a punch in the gut, and it only highlighted the problem they’ve had, one that he’s been trying to hide for years, bringing it to the forefront to slap him in the face.

“why didn’t you tell me you were auditioning?” seungmin asks him, his voice turning cold, just like jooyoung has become used to, “never mind, it’s not like you tell me anything anyway.

“you didn’t tell me either...” he says, his voice quiet, because technically seungmin did tell him, even if he didn’t specify what the audition was for. the silence that comes next is filled with an awkwardness that’s almost suffocating, and he looks to hyojin with a wry smile on his lips and a shrug of his shoulders. the way things turned out is nothing new, but it doesn’t make it any less difficult to deal with.

that, of course, doesn’t stop him from showing his support for the youngest kim sibling when he goes up to perform, invigorated by the good luck wishes he’d received, although they had been begrudgingly given. he hoops and hollers as loud as he can---just as any good older brother should---probably making himself look like a god damned ass, but it’s all in the name of love and support. he can tell he’s embarrassing seungmin, but he looks happy, and it’s all jooyoung’s ever wanted for him, even if it’s such a stark contrast from how seungmin looks whenever he’s with him.

he, of course, makes a fool of himself while cheering loudly for hyojin, too, even if it’s just a fraction of a bit less.

by the time his own name is called, he’s already forgotten that he’s there to compete as well, so caught up in watching other people’s performances that he feels like he’s merely there as an audience member rather than a fellow contestant. he practically jumps up once the realization hits, making his way to the stage with long, quick strides.

“hey man, i’m jooyoung,” he says once he’s in front of the judges, hand raising up casually, reminiscent of korg from thor: ragnarok, trying his best and failing at a new zealand accent. he doesn’t know why it’s the first thing that pops up in his mind while he’s scrambling to come up with a memorable introduction when it’s probably going to go over the ceo’s heads anyway but what’s done is done.

in an effort to try and salvage a first impression, he immediately bows deeply, bending at the waist a full ninety degrees before coming back up. “i’m kim jooyoung and i....” he drags the pads of the fingers of his right hand along his jawline slowly and seductively before using that same hand to reach out toward the camera as if asking for its nonexistant hand, “want to take you on this musical journey.

embarrassment causes him to fold over and into himself, clutching his stomach in hopes of keeping his breakfast down. he whoops loudly once and jumps up and down, shaking his limbs and trying to get his excess energy out. “anyway, i hope you’ll enjoy my performance,” he says with a grin, grabbing a hold of his electric guitar, immediately finding comfort the second his fingers wrap around its neck.

he stands now before a mic stand, inhales deeply, exhales slowly, and begins to play.

oooh i knew it when i met her i loved her when i left her got me feelin' like oooh-oooh-ooh and then i had to tell her i had to go na na na na

the first half of the mashup should be immediately recognizable since it’s a song that has enjoyed immense popularity, even now almost two years after its initial release. his performance starts out slow and steady and sultry an emulation but not an imitation of the original artist’s performance, his own rendition, his own aura.

and if you said this life ain't good enough i would give my world to lift you up i could change my life to better suit your mood because you're so smooth

the song switches mid-performance, transition as effortless as the title of the song. his fingers still strum with the first song’s rhythm, but the lyrical melody is different from the second song but equally sensual. though the songs are from two different artists, it’s as if he’s still singing about the same person, enticed by her charms and natural charisma. he tries his best to portray that sort of sexual tension without it overpowering the performance and making it cringe worthy. it’s a fine line, one that’s scarily easy to cross, but he thinks he manages to toe it well.

he holds his guitar close to his body, almost protectively, wholly intimately, almost as if it were the person he's singing about, yearning for. the way his fingers pick the strings is masterful but delicate, showing both a respect for his instrument but a deep-rooted love for it and the joy it provides. he hopes that everything put together provides for a charismatic and captivating performance.

and it's just like the ocean under the moon oh, it's the same as the emotion that i get from you you got the kind of lovin' that can be so smooth, yeah

the energy of the song gradually starts to rise during the bridge, allowing him to become a bit more explosive during the chorus, his voice much stronger, projecting further, invoking more emotion. his body begins to sway with the music, and his toe taps against the floor in time with the music as he allows himself to be fully immersed in the song and its melody and rhythm. he throws caution to the wind, abandoning a focus on technique in favor of allowing a more raw side to show, giving himself more freedom to show the emotion of the song.

give me your heart, make it real or else forget about it

he holds the last note of the song for a moment, allowing it to die out with the reverb of his guitar. once it does, his concentration dissolves into a proud smile, one he's been told can come off as smug, but that doesn't matter now. he's proud of what he's just done, so why shouldn't he be relieved and smug and proud of what he's just done?

with another deep bow, he makes his way down and back to his seat, settling into it once more to watch the rest of the performances. no longer burdened with worrying about his turn and how he'd do, he finds himself even more engrossed by all the other performers, focused fully on each one and appreciating this moment he's been given.

he's never done anything like this before, never thought he'd ever do anything like this, but he's glad he did, because now, though he doesn't know what to expect for the future, he has more to look forward to.

if only they'll allow him into the next round.

#rkmga5 #rkmga5callback #s(olo)#( i hate the edit!!!#but i'm too lazy to make another one!! )#rkseungmin #hyojinrk #( bc mentioned )#( hover over the title to see timestamps!! )

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rtilrtil · 6 years

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A-kon Artist Alley: Art Theft & Staff Indifference

Last weekend i was at A-Kon, an anime convention in Ft. Worth, Texas. this was my 3rd year tabling at their artist alley and almost certainly my last. while i’m disappointed to say that, what took place over the weekend was unacceptable and disrespectful to every creator that bothered to show up there.

if you are a creator who has ever been to or have considered tabling at an artist alley, please consider reading. thank you.

before i continue, i’d like to say that i don’t blame any one single person for this, and i do believe that there were lots of people trying to do the right thing, but ultimately those who have the responsibility and the power to protect the artists failed to do so. i am making this post because i think it is important for as many artists as possible to know what happened at A-kon 2018 in the hopes that the staff is more aggressive about their own policies in the future - and if not, at least let people know to avoid a convention where important rules that keep thieves OUT of artist alley are ignored.

moving on to the events of the con:

on Thursday evening i set up my table next to an empty corner table. the tables are set up in an island format, so every island has 4 corners which get 2 tables instead of one to form a square shape. when i came in Friday morning - the first day of the con - the corner was still empty.

about halfway through the day, a few people arrived to start setting up there. at first i thought they were late, but i later found out that they were waitlisted and were offered the table to replace whoever was originally supposed to be there. this will be important later.

a few hours later they ended up setting up this:

now a setup like this is typically something you see in the vendor’s hall, where actual companies sell licensed products and other merchandise not made by the vendors.

this setup is highly uncommon for artist alley and most certainly violates both clauses of this A-kon artist alley display rule:

not to mention another rule stating you can only take up 4 feet of space behind you, where they had an entire table set up for their merchandise.

you can trust me when i say that at most artist alleys there is not only not enough space for this monstrosity to be set up to begin with, but would be asked by staff to be torn down almost immediately.

but that is really only the tip of the iceberg, because the red flags started going up way before they finished setting up.

although the pictures are a bit blurry, you may notice something strange about the products on display - they all look like they’re from different artists.

and indeed, many of them are - in fact, it seemed apparent as the weekend went on that none of the work for sale at this booth was made by the people running it.

now proxy selling at A-kon and many other cons is allowed, but this is what the rule says:

This is where my earlier point about this table being waitlisted comes in to play. I have to assume the people running it were local, because a staff member implied that they were basically notified during the weekend that a table had opened up and they could come in to take the their place.

When you sign up to most conventions, you are asked to post a portfolio link, and part of doing that is to vet the people coming in to make sure they have.. well, a portfolio. You want to make sure the artists coming in to artist alley will be selling their own work.

and while I have no idea what link they gave the staff, the only website they had on display was an Etsy page where you can order a custom made phone case.

No tumblr, no deviantart, no pixiv, no instagram, no website..nothing. So there’s only two possibilities here:

The vendors set up a fake portfolio site full of some or all of the art on display here claiming it to be their own, and A-kon staff believed it

A-kon didn’t look at their portfolio at all, and just took the $275 from them without bothering to vet them at all

Now some of you may be asking why I would assume they would lie about claiming some of the art to be their own. Here’s where things get a little weird.

On Saturday, I was able to find one of the artists who made the art on one of the pillows they were selling. They were an artist in a foreign country thousands of miles away not attending the convention. The artist told me that the vendors had permission to use their art, but the story the vendors told was a little..different.

When the staff confronted the vendors about concerns of stolen art, the vendors claimed that the artist was their sister, but that she was currently on vacation and couldn’t attend. In fact, they claimed that all the art they had for sale was made by their family.

now why would you tell a bizarre lie like this if you had permission from every single one of your proxy artists? the only answer is that they clearly didn’t, and needed a blanket excuse to cover all their bases.

to make matters worse, they also refused to give any contact information to the staff for all the artists in their “family” that were not attending the convention.

the staff didn’t really seem to care about this at all? i found that a little bizarre. this kind of behavior is beyond suspicious and i can’t imagine how naive you’d have to be to think nothing fishy was going on with sketchy “proxy” vendors who have no problem lying straight to your face. if your one job is to enforce the rules of Artist Alley and you can’t do it, why are you even there?

anyway, it gets worse.

take a look at some of these phone cases they had for sale.

what you’re seeing here is not just a mix of fanart from various artists, but also copyrighted photos of the K-pop group BTS and officially licensed art and stitches from anime like Himouto! Umaru-chan, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, Free!, Diabolik Lovers, Ouran High School Host Club and probably many others I don’t recognize.

Just to point out a few easy-to-find examples: here’s a stitch from the anime Himouto! Umaru-chan, ripped directly from the anime and printed out in a phone case.

How about that Halloween-themed FMA:Brotherhood phone case in the first image? Well, just type “fullmetal alchemist halloween” into Google Images and it’s the first result!

This is a scan of official promotional art for FMA that there are hundreds of results for.

How about that one of Free! Iwatobi Swim Club? Turns out it’s official art from the Free! Eternal Summer 2015 Calendar - sold, created, owned and licensed by none other than Kyoto Animation, the studio that made it.

I can’t speak for all the fanart on display here as it’s very difficult to find just through google searching, but even if I could, I wouldn’t want to drag them in to this - because at least one of them was aware this was going on, even though the vendors lied about who they were. all I can tell you is that many attendees and artists in my island recognized many art pieces on their products and knew the artists were not present and not aware their art was being sold.

so while these vendors may have had permission to proxy sell some of the stuff they had, it’s fairly obvious that this wasn’t the case for everything, and they lied to the staff to try and cover it up.

as I said earlier, on Saturday I expressed my concerns about the items on sale to the Artist Alley control booth. I even went through the trouble of showing them how to find the art through reverse image search to prove that it was stolen while trying to run my table solo. funnily enough - as i was talking to a staffer at the control booth, an attendee was also complaining about the same booth to another staffer with pictures of art on pillows from artists he recognized who were not present at the convention. I thought that was funny.

at the end of the day, a number of staff appeared on-site to question the vendors about their merchandise. statements were taken from me and a few other artists nearby, and it looked like maybe something would be done about this blatant theft on display.

but as i returned to sell on Sunday, the booth was still up and fully operational. when i asked why, the A-kon AA staff replied via twitter that it was “pending review”. another artist was told that they traced all this art (lol) and that tracing was allowed, however this contradicts another one of their rules:

by this point, the con was almost over - the vendors had gotten away with it, despite numerous voices of concern coming from artists and attendees alike - and indeed, this booth was allowed to sell stolen art all weekend uninhibited to unknowing attendees.

as for what other creative excuses the vendors may have had to tell the staff, if the staff even cared or they were actually duped by their obvious lies i don’t know.

here’s the point: artist alley is supposed to be a space for individual artists to sell their own creations. and while some labor was at least spared on the phone cases, the centerpiece is clearly the art, and the art did not belong to these vendors. none of the art belonged to these vendors.

so let’s break down the facts about what took place here:

a corner table was sold to waitlisted vendors in artist alley at a-kon (this means a-kon made double their money on this corner table..really makes you think 🤔 🤔 🤔 )

the vendors’ products were not vetted as the staff was obviously unaware of what was being sold

the vendors broke multiple display rules and nothing was done

the vendors lied to staffers and were caught lying and nothing was done

the vendors were selling stolen art and nothing was done

the vendors refused to give out contact information they were supposed to have for the artists they were proxying and nothing was done

the a-kon staff either does not take their own rules seriously, enforce them in any way, or are incompetent or otherwise incapable of doing so

at this point, the artist alley at A-Kon may as well be a vendor space where greasy conmen and thieves can just slap art on whatever and make a killing, because that is how i felt after watching what was essentially a dog and pony show of A-Kon staff pussyfooting around an issue that should’ve been dealt with swiftly and sternly.

this shit shouldn’t fly and while the vendors already got off scot-free, i can only hope that shedding light on this will help with stopping this issue from spreading, because you can bet that if other art thieves catch wind of the fact that A-Kon staff don’t give a shit about enforcing their own rules that they’ll tag along for the free ride.

If you’d like to read the A-Kon artist alley rules for yourself, i copied them from the email and put them in this pastebin.

if you’ve read this far, thank you for reading, and if you know anyone who participates in artist alleys in any fashion, please share it with them if you found this concerning.

#artist alley #akon2018 #akon29 #akon #art theft

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0bfvscate · 5 years

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Halloway’s Night Out

Fanfiction for @nothwell‘s sequel to Mr. Warren’s Profession, Throw His Heart Over.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Alcohol use, mild sexual content, references to violence and drug use

Summary: John Halloway celebrates selling his most recent, and most controversial painting, The Fall of Icarus, with dinner and wine, but true to form, neither Halloway nor his dear friend Cyril Graves manage to do anything in a quiet or orderly way.

The reception to the painting was mixed. Some called it a masterful use of technique, others an aesthetic triumph. Others called it a debasement of ancient myth, a clear excuse to indulge in homosexual tendencies, and an affront to good taste. Halloway heard people call him both a genius and a monster for displaying the vaunted Icarus as a scarred and beaten man, and felt a bit thrilled to invoke such strong reaction.

Until he saw Warren in the crowd. Warren was a quiet man with quiet habits who preferred his privacy. Warren’s eyes darted around the room as he squeezed through the crowd toward the painting, trying to reach it without making any sign that he was there. Halloway came to the sudden realization he’d brought a very private friend to an event celebrating his naked, painted form. Halloway could see him struggling to be invisible, squirming in his suit when he bumped in to someone, apologized, and saw their eyes flicker over his scars.

Halloway jumped through the crowd. “Warren!”

His voice did not have its intended effect. Instead of being a life raft thrown into open water, it seemed to act like a bullet at a hart.

“Come here,” Halloway called, struggling with the tools at his disposal for some anchor to ground his model. “Let me shake your hand—find you a glass—no? Very well, as you wish—but do allow me to introduce you to my friend—Mr Talbot—the proprietor of this fine establishment.”

—and reached behind himself to extract one Mr. Edward Talbot, art patron, critic and former tailor. He’d inherited a strong business sense, an eye for color, and a tailor’s shop from his father, which he then liquidated and converted into a gallery for the sake of art.

“How do you do.” said Mr Talbot.

Aubrey replied in kind, but with mounting meekness as Talbot’s eyes widened with recognition. Talbots’ customary congratulations to the model froze on his lips and a yawning silence stretched in its place.

“Mr Warren,” said Halloway, clapping his free hand upon Aubrey’s shoulder, “is the celebrated model.”

“Indeed,” said Mr Talbot. “I thank you, sir, for making such a splendid work possible. Your visage is a most inspiring one. Forgive me for abandoning you so soon, but I’m afraid business calls me elsewhere. Good evening, Mr Warren. It was a pleasure meeting you. I hope to see you again soon.”

He gave them each a nod and vanished into the crowd as easily as a ghost, where his absence was filled with Halloway’s annoyance. Talbot failed to offer Warren any comfort, and left him still and fragile and unsteady as a newborn fawn. If only Warren drank, Halloway would have given him some liquid courage.

“Talbot thinks we might have an offer on the painting this very night,” Halloway blurted out.

“That’s good,” Aubrey replied, though his uncertainty turned the remark into a question.

“It’s very good,” Halloway confirmed. “Better than I’d hoped—though no less than I feel it deserves, if I may be honest at the risk of being arrogant. Have you seen it yet?”

When Aubrey admitted he’d not yet glimpsed the painting hanging in the gallery, Halloway bid him follow, and carved a path through the crowd to the wall. Every wall in the gallery bore artworks from floor to ceiling, but Icarus Fallen seemed to have a glow all its own. Or did Halloway imagine it? Did it draw his eye for the piece of himself he recognized within it, or was there something universal in its composition? Did it have that unmistakable spark of beauty that every artist chased, or was it just a nice painting that he was proud of?

Aubrey craned his neck upward towards the painting, and for a moment, he seemed at peace.

“What do you think?” Halloway asked.

“It’s… impressive,” Aubrey said at last.

Halloway smiled, but before he could say more, a hand clapped him on the shoulder.

“Halloway,” the man said. “Tell me more about this recent painting. Tell me where you found the nerve.”

And with that, the crowd drew him back in, where he was in his element.

By ten the gallery was shut up, the champagne was gone, and Richard Talbot was using Halloway’s coat and hat as a lion tamer used a chair.

“You ought to apologize to my friend Warren,” Halloway said. Graves had his fingers in the back of his jacket and was trying to pull him toward the exit. “He’s a very handsome man, you know. Very kind, very gentle. He’s sort of like a deer.”

“For God’s sake, John,” Graves grumbled. “The event is over and we’re starving. If we stay here any longer the party will end.”

“I know, I’m coming. And I’m not upset with you, I’m just a bit protective of the poor chap. He’s like a deer.”

“I understand completely.” Mr. Talbot said, advancing on him with the coat and hat.

“He saved an entire factory. That’s why he’s got those scars. Have I told you that?”

“Yes.” Talbot said.

“You’re drunk.” Graves said.

“You’re drunk.”

“I think you’d both do well to have a hot dinner and a nice cup of coffee.” Mr. Talbot said, taking another step forward with the hat and coat.

“Oh, yes. Splendid.” Graves answered.

“I just want you to know—“

“I know, John,” Mr. Talbot said, finally saddling Halloway with his own coat and hat and giving him a gentle pat. “I know.”

And then they were out in the street, unsteadily climbing into the hansom. They collapsed on top of one another and awoke some twenty minutes later feeling like watersodden logs, but after food, coffee, and yet more liquor, they both felt as fresh as spring rain.

“To Icarus!” Graves cried. “To a man who died a noble death, in the pursuit of absolute, ideal beauty. A man who stretched out his hand to touch the sun and felt its fire burning. Here’s to a man who flew out of prison and fell to the sea.”

“Now I’m not arguing against the technical skill,” said Hainsley, the editor and founder of his own magazine. “It is clearly a beautifully painted piece. What I am arguing against is the choice to mutilate Icarus.”

“He fell out of the sky and smashed on the rocky earth,” Halloway argued. “If I wanted to mutilate him, I would have done much worse then a bruising.”

“Exactly. That’s my point. You can’t argue for realism, since true realism would reduce the painting to an unrecognizable, pornographic mess. If Icarus Fallen were pure veritism it would hardly be a painting at all. Your choices were weighed accordingly, which is every artist’s right, but I respectfully disagree with your decisions.”

“Well, sir, I respectfully disagree with yours. Icarus has been portrayed in art for thousands of years, and I for one am tired of seeing unending galleries full of heroes in unblemished death throes.”

“God, are we going to sit at this table forever?” Asked Forsyth from the other end. “I’ve been stuffed in this jacket all day.”

Next they went to the Catullus club, descending on it like a flock of bats if bats waddled on foot after too much food and wine. The club was a relatively sedate place at that time of night, except for a few private parties bursting with exclamations and loud thuds from behind locked doors. They took the main room and filled it with noise and smoke as the company and the alcohol brought them all a new burst of energy. The staff, noticing the celebratory nature of their party, circled them like moths.

Halloway had a very pretty toff sitting on the arm of his chair while Graves proudly recounted his triumphs. The toff was a bit too pretty for Halloway, incessantly barring eyelashes he’d enhanced with kohl and cheeks darkened with rouge. Hainsley was sitting on the other side of the chair and salivating up at the pretty toff. Halloway, eventually, retrieved his arm from the toff and used it to wrap around Graves.

“Couldn’t we move the pronouncements to a private room?” He asked.

Graves, frozen in the act of giving a speech, took his time to arrive at John’s point. “I’m not averse, if you don’t mind leaving you adoring entourage.”

“I’d prefer it.” He admitted quietly.

Graves raised his eyebrows, but got out of his chair without comment. “Very well. Excuse us, gentlemen.”

The orderly at the welcome desk gave them a key to a room on the second floor. By the time they arrived, towels, lubricant and a clean water basin were laid out for them by the bed.

“Didn’t that pretty young gentlemen interest you at all?” Graves asked, pulling off his shoes.

“God, no,” Halloway answered. “Although if you’ve a fancy—“

“Hmm. Do I? Well, I’d certainly give it a try. But why not? He seemed very partial to you.”

“Shame I’m not much for willowy boys.” Halloway grumbled.

Graves laughed. “So it’s another question for aesthetics! Tell me, John, what disinterests you so in beauty?”

“‘Beauty’ isn’t a predetermined factor,” Halloway declared, giving up on untying his tie and just pulling it apart. “If it were, the Asthetes wouldn’t have anything to talk about.”

“Isn’t it? A truth doesn’t become less true for having facets, nor are gems less expensive for them. If beauty were in the eye of the holder, a painting could not be celebrated. As an artist, you must admit that beauty is generally agreed upon.”

“As an artist, I can tell you now that beauty is a trend that comes and goes,” he struggled to pull off his socks and eventually let himself fall forward, onto the bed. “No one today would paint a Rueben.”

“But there is still something enduring about their beauty.” Graves mused. He was stretched out in his chair, waistcoat unbuttoned and only one sock off. He seemed to have forgotten he was unbuttoning his pants.

Halloway jumped up on the bed and flipped over to work on his pants. “Alright, let’s you and I discuss the female form.”

“My, you are in a rare mood.” Graves mumbled.

“Exactly— Exactly!” Halloway cried, triumphant, standing on the bed in his johns and shirt. “We’d never deny a woman her beauty, but would you take one to bed?”

Graves made a few noncommittal noises.

“What about the most beautiful woman at the opera? What if I were to introduce you to Miss Virginia Stendhal, who sat for my celebrated painting of Persephone?”

“Oh but that brings us back to the point, my dear, which is that people find Ms. Stendhal beautiful but pity her for the sitting!”

“No, my point is that she’s beautiful, but neither of us would fuck her.”

“You put the poor woman in an unhappy marriage,” Graves pouted. “Persephone, the goddess of spring, the personification of the bloom of youth, staring at Hades as if wishing she could put him in his own pit. What a waste!”

“But why?” Halloway cried. “Why can’t I? I haven’t done anything wrong. I love those stories just as much as anyone else, and you can’t argue that no one sees them as I do, because people have told me they do!”

Graves was laughing, shaking his chair with quiet mirth. “You see, John, this is why I admire your work. You’ll do what you like and stamp your foot when people tell you they don’t like it.”

“Oh, you’re just mocking me.” Halloway said. He wobbled, fell to his knees, then landed face down on the bed. The darkness there was warm, soft and inviting, and he was in the process of exploring deeper when Graves pulled him upright. He sat on the edge of wakefulness, judging the benefits of each side of consciousness, when Graves tipped the scale. He kissed him, cupping the back of Halloway’s head in his hands. He was so warm that Halloway let him carry him fully into wakefulness, pressing his tongue against Graves’ lips until they opened and let him explore. When they’d gotten all their clothes off he pressed his chest to Graves’ and felt his heart beating on the other side. The rasp of skin and short, dark hairs tingling over his body made him flush with heat, but when he reached between Graves’ legs he found his cock still soft.

“Give me a minute.” Graves promised, pushing John onto his back. His lips tickled his skin as he kissed down Halloway’s collarbone and into the sensitive skin between his thighs, but though desire pumped through his blood his little soldier was too drunk for a full salute.

They tried a few more times, and sometime before three Halloway was startled awake by a sudden knocking on the door.

“Halloway! Graves!” Someone shouted. Halloway waited for them to announce themselves or explain what they wanted, but there was just silence on the other side. There was shuffling, then quiet, disappointed muttering and an embarrassed retreat.

“Who was that?” Graves mumbled, lifting his head up. He made a face and scraped a hair off his tongue, then slowly lifted a bit farther off the bed and took in their surrounded. “Where are we? And, good god— what are these hideous statues?”

“I think,” Halloway said, careful not to make any concrete proclamations in light of his irrational condition. “That we have abandoned our party.”

“Nonesense. We’ve only been gone a few minutes.”

Halloway searched the room for a clock, and was relieved to find a small one on the mantle. He got up and squinted at it, but although he could see both hands, neither figure shared information with him.

“I think we’ve been gone a bit longer then that.” He said tentatively.

Now it was Graves’ turn to stop and think, churning through the butter that was once his brain for all the pieces of the night to lay out in order.

“No,” he said, but that was just a reflex, come from the certainty that Cyril Graves did not abandon a party. As it dawned on him that that was indeed what he had done, the finger resting on his chin migrated north and pushed nervously into his upper lip. “Oh.”

“I think we abandoned the party, Cyril.”

“Oh,” Graves said, then got to work collecting his clothes. “Well, let’s resolve that.”

They abandoned their futile efforts to put the room back together and stopped by the front desk to drop off their key. But when they reached the sitting room, it was empty. Nothing remained of their party except for crystal cups with rings of liquid, and one cigar still smoking in an ashtray. As they stared at the ribbon of smoke rising up, they heard a giggle behind them. Glancing over their shoulder, they saw the pretty toff from before wrapped in a curtain, trying to hide but shaking with mirth.

He explained when they approached; “When you two disappeared, the others went to look for you, and that became a game of hide and seek. Right now it’s Hainsley seeking, and he’s terrific. He gets so angry when he can’t find anyone.”

To prove it, the toff encouraged them to hide behind a large potted plant. Within minutes Hainsley came in and began to turn the sitting room over, cursing the whole time. The toff was helpless with laughter, covering his mouth with both hands to smother the hiccups and gasps that escaped. Hainsley caught the echo of a cough and lifted his head with alertness, as dogs did during hunts. Slowly he inched forward, and pounced on a couch at the edge of the sitting room. He paused, as if checking his success, then threw the pillows aside and cursed again.

The toff was helpless with laughter.

Halloway straightened up and stride towards the editor. “Hainsley!”

The man jumped. “Halloway! There you are! We’ve been looking for you for ages. Don’t tell me you lost Graves on your way back from Fairyland.”

“Of course not,”Graves said, leaning against the potted plant with an air of ennui. “But what are you doing to that poor couch?”

“The bastards all thought it’d be funny to hide after you went missing.”

“Or perhaps they are the ones whisked off the Fairyland.” Graves mused.

“Anyways, all the servants have gone to bed and I need another drink.”

“Perhaps we could use another drink.” Halloway agreed. His poor, pickled brain was trying to shut up for the night, but like a bicycle with the breaks cut he could only keep moving.

As they were making up their minds of where to go and how they could get another drink so late at night, members of their party popped one by one out of doorways and down the stairs.

“Hainsley, you spoilsport!”

“Are we getting a night-cap?”

“Do you know of a place that will still be open?”

“No,” Graves said. “Regrettably, we’ll have to go home for hospitality.”

It was no longer the blackest night, but the blackest morning. Halloway was speculating on the change in atmosphere that seperated morning from night in the wee hours. Was it the dew in the air that changed the texture of the darkness, or simply the knowledge that dawn was approaching? Or was it instead the weight of his body on his mind, dragging just a step behind his alert consciousness, like a cranky child?

“Here we are. At last,” Cyril said, banging on the front door. “Open up! Come on, we don’t have all night.”

But the door did not open. Soon the whole party took up a chorus of the demand and chanted it like a drinking song.

“Open up! We don’t have all night!”

Lights glowed behind the drawn curtains and the door was abruptly opened. The party poured into the foyer, still chanting.

“Open up! We don’t have all night!”

Someone clipped John’s nose in their clumsy effort to remove their jacket, and another fell on his back as they were trying to untie shoes.

“What in heaven’s name is going on?” Demanded a voice.

Graves was trying to reason with the sober individual. “Now, listen, would you turn away an old friend for celebrating the triumph of an artistic master? This is a triumph. Triumphant. We are triumphant!”

“For god’s sake, sit down before you fall down.” Answered the sober tyrant, and orders for bedclothes and water were answered with the drumming of feet which seemed to circle Halloway before entering his skull and stamping around the dome.

“This is not a triumph,” said a second sober voice. “This is tragedy. You look like a platoon of wounded soldiers limping home.”

“Oh, come, have a nightcap with us.” Hainsley slurred.

“You’ve finished off the night, there’s nothing to cap.”

“A toast to our host!” Shouted a different voice, and when John turned to identify it, discovered the toff from the club had come out with them.

“You need to go to bed. You’ll all feel like death in the morning.” “Oh, thank god. A piano! At last, we’ll have music!” Forsyth had made it into another room, plopped down on to the piano bench, and begun playing a waltz as slurred as his speech, alone, in the dark.

“No-- no! Absolutely not!”

“Gentlemen!” Cried a voice. John turned towards it and beheld a women on the stairs. At first, he mistook her slender, loosely-draped silhouette for Grecian garb, and the woman at her elbow as some Olympian attendant. But then the weights and pulleys in his brain settled into balance and he recognized it as a nightgown. “Welcome! And congratulations!”

The whole party gave out a cheer.

“You all look like you’ve had a fabulous night!”

Another rousing cheer.

“I propose a toast!”

Their party lost their minds. There was applause and stamping of feet.

“One last toast to the hero of tonight, Mr. John Halloway!”

She was like a priest, and they her feverish followers. John felt tears prick his eyes. A servant appeared and put a glass in his hand, with something cool and sweet. It tasted like a fruit juice, and for the life of him he could not settle on the flavor of the alcohol. It was very delicate, and mixed perfectly with the cocktail’s foundation.

“We drink to Artemis, and she brings us ambrosia!” He cried.

“Fine lady, I’d say you should sit for Halloway, but not a soul here can predict how the results will look!” Hainsley brayed, and everyone fell over themselves laughing.

She bowed graciously. “Gentlemen, my house is yours. I place my servants at your disposal. If any of you should need anything, you need only let them know. I beg you to forgive me of my absence.”

The party made a loud, collective noise, but the tone of their response was impossible to decipher. Not even Halloway could tell if he was disappointed that she was leaving them or begging her to do as she saw fit. She, her attendant, and the two masters of the house left them in the sitting room, among the pillows and blankets that were brought down when they first arrived. The toff was fast asleep, curled around a folded blanket like a child. Hainsley, after sitting down and having some of whatever substance was in his glass, was frozen in place, his mouth hanging open.

“What fine people,” Graves said. He was still upright, still smiling his knowing smile, but there was something off-balance about his posture. “What a wonderful night. Where’s Forsyth?” They discovered Forsyth asleep on the piano.

“They act like they’ve never had a drink before.” Graves muttered.

“Let’s leave them and have another drink,” Halloway said. “That cocktail she gave us was wonderful. What did you think of it?” “Something with apple.” Graves said pensively.

“She said we could ask for another. Didn’t she leave some of her people with us?”

They checked the rooms and the hallway around the sitting room, but everywhere was dark and empty.

“I can’t see a thing. Where’s a candle?”

“I can’t find any,” Graves said, slapping countertops along the wall for something to light. There was a clang and a bump and a series of heavy metal objects fell to the floor as Graves cursed. “How the devil did they get the lights on and off so fast? I can’t even smell the candle smoke.”

“Perhaps it’s electric?”

“Where are the lamps?”

Halloway tripped on a lurking ottoman and sprawled across the rug. Graves made a show of disgust as he pulled him up.

“John, please.”

“As if I chose to fall!”

Abruptly they found themselves back in the piano room with Forsyth, still peacefully asleep on the bench.

“Witchcraft!” Halloway cried. “She plans to turn us into pigs!”

Graves scoffed. “We must have gone the full circuit of the house. The staff must be asleep.”

“What do they expect us to do?” Halloway cried.

“Sleep, I’d expect,” Graves said. He put his hand between the curtains and lifted up a corner. “The sun is coming up.”

“No.”

Graves stepped back from the window to offer his view. True to his word, there were the pink clouds rising in the east, the red light of dawn coloring the pale sky. They pushed back the curtains and stood in the early dawn light as the sun rose. The air under the curtain had the same chill as the outdoors, whereas behind it, in the sitting room, was still warm and dark and full of the even sounds of sleep.

“We should get to bed.” Halloway said. They joined the rest of their party on the floor of the sitting room, sober enough to spread out the cushions and blankets to make their bed. Without their shoes, coats or shirts they had a very comfortable bed, and Halloway drifted quickly off to sleep.

Halloway woke up with a headache as fierce as if he’d been beaten. His tongue was so dry it felt swollen in his mouth. He could barely open his eyes. As consciousness overtook him, and pain overtook his body, all he could manage was a helpless groan.

“I thought you’d say as much,” said a familiar voice. “Sit up, we brought you breakfast.”

Sitting up was a tall order to fulfill. Halloway only managed to roll over, and when he did was blinded with a flash of sunlight bright enough to pierce straight through his eyelids.

“Come on.” Coaxed the voice.

Now on his back, he had both arms at his disposal to lift him up, and he managed to struggle himself into a sitting position. Warren and Althorp were standing before him, to Halloway’s relief looking more indulgent than furious. The others from their party were sitting up around him, their collars and hair askew and each looking as glassy and tired as Halloway felt. The ground seemed to be tilting beneath him.

Three trays were placed on the ground of the sitting room, in easy grabbing distance to the drunkards. On each tray was a pile of toast, peppermint tea, butter and a little cold chicken, shredded into easy bites.

“How did we get here?” Halloway asked.

“You would have to tell us.” Althorp said.

“Why did we…” Halloway began, but trailed off as his train of thought left him, evaporating like water in the sun.

“Who was the woman?” Hainsley asked. “Who are you? Where are we?”

“This is my good friend Sir Lindsey Althorp.” Graves said, leaning forward to take a dry piece of toast. “The two women were his wife and sister, Lady Emmeline Althorp and Lady Rowena Althorp.”

“Where are we?” The toff asked.

“Halloway, what happened last night? What brought you here?”

“I can’t for the life of me remember,” Halloway admitted. “We were going to have one last drink and go to bed.”

“We’re glad to help, but don’t do that again.” Warren said.

Halloway grimaced and gave them a toast with his peppermint tea.

“Wonder where my hansom is.” Graves muttered.

“London, I’d expect.” Althorp said.

“Naturally.” Graves responded bitterly.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Very carefully, Halloway put his fears into words.

“Where is London?”

“England?” Althorp answered tentatively.

“Not here,” Warren said. “You’re in Manchester.”

“What!?” Halloway cried. “How in the world did we coordinate a train ride!?”

“That’s what we wondered, as well.” Warren remarked.

“You said they had space for all of us.” Hainsley said.

“This is the beauty of the intoxicated mind,” Graves said serenely. “We are capable of so much, without our inhibitions to hold us back. Gautier wrote extensively on the visions he saw while under the influence of hashish--” “I hope you weren’t smoking that, last night.” Althorp said with all the sternness of a disapproving parent.

“I hope you don’t need to get that drunk again to find your way back.” Warren said.

“I suppose I could impose on your hospitality a bit longer for a hansom back to my lodgings.” Halloway said. He still couldn’t remember getting on a train with Graves or the others, but it was becoming easier to see why he would argue the party move to Manchester while he was at his drunkest. Despite all the travelling he did, Manchester was still home. Manchester had all the comforting amenities a drunken Halloway would crave, and a drunken Halloway could wax poetic on their benefits until an equally drunken group of men were happy to follow him across the country.

In fact, of all of them, the toff was the only one with any difficulty getting home.

“My mother will be worried.” He said.

“Tell her you were out with friends.” “I think she’ll expect that. She’ll say not to worry about her, but she does for me, and I do for her.”

As Halloway was putting himself together, smoothing down his hair with a little of Althorp’s pomade, Warren approached him.

“I’ve never seen you like that before last night,” he said quietly. “Do you drink yourself into that condition often?”

“No, not often. Last night was a celebration.”

“I didn’t like to see you that way, Halloway,” Warren admitted. “You weren’t the man I respected.”

Halloway gave him a hard look, drying up any temperance speech that might be forthcoming. “Warren, until my drunken behavior overtakes my life, I’ll thank you not to proselytize.”

“I’m not proselytizing. I’m pointing out to you that you bought a train ticket in a state of total unconsciousness. That you’re safe and sound in our house this morning is pure luck. I’m telling you, as your friend, that drinking yourself unconscious isn’t a habit to make!”

Halloway sighed. It was unfair to treat Warren like a nagging puritan in the wake of troubling behavior. Even Halloway had to admit that last night could have taken a turn for the worst at any point, and he was in Warren and Althorp’s debt for providing them with a safe place to sleep for the night. If they’d forced them to sleep in the horse stables, no one would have blamed them-- not even Halloway.

“You’re right, of course. I was a bit out of control, and I can’t dismiss my behavior just by saying that I don’t do it often. I ought to be more careful in future,” Halloway said. A smile slowly overtook his face. “But it was quite a night.”

Warren gave him a smile in return.

He walked Halloway to the front door, where Graves was waiting to drive with him into town.

“Halloway, I have a final question about art,” Warren said. “Do you ever miss your paintings after they’ve gone?”

“No.” Halloway said.

Warren seemed taken aback by his certainty. “Never?”

“I have better paintings to make.”

Warren was quiet for a moment, and then slowly a genuinely cheerful smile spread across his face.

“Naturally.”

Halloway gave him a warm handshake. “We’ll meet in town, shall we? I’ll send a card around.”

“I’d like that.”

#fanfiction #sebastian nothwell #mr warrens profession #lindsey althorp #aubrey warren #john halloway #cyril graves #historical fiction #fiction #gay fiction

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illuminatingcomics · 7 years

Note

I miss you!

It’s too late. It was only a matter of timebefore this happened. Out of cash, out of a job, out of my house, I only have thisplace where to vent out. I don’t want to supplicate for help, or bore you withmy sad story, I only want to open your eyes, be honest for once. This blog, andall the work published on it, was just a desperate attempt to fight back thegrowing insanity that overwhelmed my mind ever since I‘ve learned about thetruth…

And the truth, you shall learn, if you’rewilling to listen.

It’sa well known fact that Marvel experienced a terrifying financial crisis in themid nineties. Corporate greed and shady business practices saw Marvel’s stock value collapse; shares once worth$35.75 each in 1993 had sunk to $2.375 three years later. The market crashed.Retailers lost their shops, speculators jumped ship, and titles that soldmillions because they had twenty-three variant cover plated in gold and withattached trading card now sold only a few thousand copies. It was hell, and inthe back alleys of Wall Street, executives and editors were ready to cut eachother throat to salvage what little was left. Neil Gaiman compared it to thetulip mania, when back in the 17th century, the price of tulip bulbsexploded only to drastically collapse in 1637.

Now, what happened after?How did Marvel survive? The official version of the narrative tells us theyremained afloat selling the movies rights for some of their biggest and mostremunerative franchises (Spider-Man, Fantastic Four, the Sub-Mariner), before finallyentering the Disney family in 2009, other meat for the unstoppable everconsuming grinder that company became. But that’s not the real reason. I knowthe real reason. I saw the real reason.

I worked as an intern forMarvel from 2002 to 2003. It was a strange period in the company’s history.Modern classics like Grant Morrison’s New X-Men and Millar’s Ultimates were published side by side with stuff like Marville and that War Machine book madeentirely of 3D models. You could tell by entering their offices that editorsweren’t giving second thoughts to any idea, threw everything on the wall to seewhat stuck, a process that resulted in both masterpieces and ugly catastrophes.

I said I was an intern, Iwas more like a glorified janitor, paid in food stamps to empty out the trashcans, make photocopies, walk out Perlmutter’s pet South Pacific cannibal, andstuff like that… I’ve never met anyone important, so if you’re expecting astory about certain famous writers being secretly lizard people, I’m sorry, thisis not it. I’ve only ever crossed roads with Joe Quesada, and aside form hisconstant need to gift me autographed copies of the issues of Ninjak he did in1993, everything was normal… everything, not everyone. There was an editor.This man… he’s why I’m writing this.

Howard Gardner was his name,but you won’t find it printed in the credits of any book, I assure you. Yet hewas an editor, that was his role. Asking around the building, I’ve learned thathe had been working at Marvel since before the bubble burst, but only oversawfew, scattered books. Apparently he was the guy that came up with the basicideas for Avataars:Covenant of the Shield, Fantastic Four: Unlimited, and he hadghost written at least two issues of Uncanny X-Men… you know the ones.People didn’t like working with him, writers didn’t like talking to him,artists didn’t like the notes he put on their pages, yet, in an era of constantbudget cuts and people losing their job, he was still part of Marvel’s staff.

He was a tall, lanky man,of an auburn complexion, maybe… I say that because there’re few things abouthim I can accurately describe. Something about him slips away from my mind, Ican’t put a face to a voice, can’t connect it all to a name, and I’ve met himseveral times. The harder I try to remember the less I do… or perhaps, I simplydon’t want to remember, as if my memories are protecting me from something. There was a certain oddness about the way he behaved, and the requestshe made at every editor’s meeting, all promptly ignored by the rest of thosepresent. Now, you think he was asking for something gruesome and horrifying,but knowing the graphic shit Marvel published in their MAX line, would youreally believe they wouldn’t have the stomach for something in particular? No,his requests were just strange.

“I want Black Widow tofight iridescent orbs” he told a writer, “Make the furniture blue, it’s myfavourite colour” he asked a colorist, referring to an inconsequentialapartment shown during a fight scene. Just bizarre non sequiturs like those, atevery meeting when he wasn’t pitching some outlandish stupid book. He behavedlike he wasn’t entirely there, the best way I can describe it is that he actedlike a tourist from another country, that didn’t know anything about thecustoms of the area, but still tried his best to awkwardly fit in.

Eventually I got used tomost of Howard Gardner’s strangeness, but one thing I just couldn’t wrap myhead around were his visits to Marvel’s “boiler room”. Sometimes he went downthere two or three times a day, sometimes once every few weeks, and neverfailed to announce it. “I’m going to the boiler room everybody!” he woulddeclare, sometimes in the middle of a meeting, standing up and marching out theroom. Nobody seemed to care, or at least, they pretended not to care. I triedto ask Quesada once, and he just replied “He’s a funny guy like that” beforehanding me over issue #3 of Sword ofAzrael.

Such was my morbid curiosity, that oneday, after yet another announcement, I decided to follow him. He didn’t takethe elevator to reach the boiler room, but stairs. I waited five or six minutebefore chasing after him, as cautiously as possible. He was already about fourfloors lower than me, so I kept that distance, walking by the wall rather thanthe rails, only once in a while peering out to ensure he hadn’t notice me. So Iwalked, and I walked, and I walked… after several minutes I began to wonderjust how deep could Marvel’s basement be? We were already far below ground level,and yet we kept moving. I had no idea the building was that big, and thefurther down I went, the more the environment started showing signs of decay,and disuse, like nobody had been there for years, or decades… It gradually shifted, looking more and moredecrepit, walls covered in incomprehensible, ruined graffiti, garbage coatingthe floor, huge, old stacks of Jim Lee’s X-Men #1 stuffed inthe corners. The air was filled with a stale and odd smell, a mixture ofvinegar and paper, it made my eyes watery and my mouth dry, but still, I moveddown, as an unpleasant, sweaty warmth surrounded me.

Finally, the stairs ended, and only onelong, shadowed corridor appeared in front of my eyes, scarcely lit by orangetinged lamps. No trace of Gardner,he just vanished in the darkness. There was a noise, a rhythmic noise,reverberating in the air. The shuffling of pages, of a book, no, many books, anarmy of people skimming through hundreds of books, all at once. It wasstrangely hypnotic, and I began following it, carefully moving across thecorridor.

The floor was wet. Puddles of a wateryblack liquid covered it. The intense smell I perceived in my descent was allaround, and I finally identified it as the acute scent of ink. Shreddedcomicbook pages were all around, so utterly cut up and ruined I couldn’t tellwhich issues they were from.

I proceeded across thecorridor, and it seemed to stretch out without end. The further I went, thedeeper the ink lake turned. I was in it up to my ankles, when finally, afterthe seemingly endless walk, I reached a single iron door, left ajar. The boilerroom. The heat was unbearable, coating me like a blanket in the summer. I wasviscous and sticky with sweat, so thirsty my throat was sore, yet, I entered,following the noise, constantly skimmingin the my ears.

It was dark inside, Icouldn’t see anything, but still I understood, the place was bigger, muchbigger than it had any right to be. It was as if I was entering an entirelydifferent building, another place, better yet, another world. The floor was a dense, gooey swamp of ink and soaked paper, the airbasically unbreathable, polluted by the toxic smell of industrial paint. I tookjust a few steps forward into the alien world, and the marsh reached my knees. I stopped, gazed into the darkness… and I saw Gardner. He was far away,and the entire lower portion of his body, from the belt down wasn’t visible:he was immersed in the ink… I have to wonder now, was it really ink, orsomething else? And if it wasn’t, then what?

I shivered, glaring at the scene. Gardner had his arms up. He was looking atsomething. I narrowed my eyes, looked up, saw nothing at all.

Then, it moved. That nothing, was everything. Therewas a shape, filling the void, in its entirety. It was grandiose andstupendous, it was horrifying and atrocious. I couldn’t comprehend anythingabout its anatomy, it was as if a thousands sails moved at unison, shifting inspace, like billions of pages stacked one on top of the other. The rhythmicshuffling belonged to it, the supernatural, diseased sound of its existence.

If it had eyes, I can’t tell. If it had consciousness,or it was just an endless sea of living flesh, I can’t tell. It was ancient andunending, primeval masterpiece of a bygone era. It existed long before anyonecould recount, it filled our dreams and our nightmares. It was the reason ofthe company’s endurance. It was its protector. The god they had swore to serve.And it, in turn, served them. It was Marvel.

The moments that followed were a blur. I barely hadthe time to contemplate my insignificance in the greater cosmic theatre and wetmyself before I decided to run. Out of the boiler room, out of the building,out of the city, out of the goddamned country. Some would say I am coward, andit’s true, because in front of that archaic force, we’re all cowards.

It’s been fourteen years. Itried morphine, I tried cocaine, I tried coke. I still cannot forget. The imagesare burned in my mind. Mocking the thing with silly internet edits was my wayof fighting its power, and maintain my sanity, but it’s not enough anymore. Ah!It was never enough to begin with, and anonymity only got me so far. I believethey found me. I realize now the truth about Howard Gardner. More than a man,more than an editor, he was an instrument of its hateful design. He saw meescape, and he’s been looking for me, hunting me down every waking moment hewasn’t busy green lighting projects like Marvel DIVAS and Curse of the Mutants.

Theend is near. I hear a noise at the door, as of some immense slippery bodylumbering against it. It shall not find me. God, the hand! Thewindow! The window!

#ask #october #marvel

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elizabethcariasa · 5 years

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281 people arrested in connection with global email scams

Law enforcement officers across five U.S. federal agencies successfully concluded a four-month investigation this month with the arrest of 281 people allegedly involved in global email scams.

The scams, officially known as Business Email Compromise (BEC) schemes, are designed to intercept and hijack wire transfers from businesses and individuals, including many senior citizens.

Most of the alleged cyber criminals, 167, were arrested in Nigeria. Insert your own fraudulent prince email comments here. Another 74 people in the United States were taken into custody. The remaining arrests were made in France, Ghana, Italy, Japan, Kenya, Malaysia, Turkey and the United Kingdom.

In addition to jailing alleged scammers, investigators with the Departments of Justice, Homeland Security, Treasury, State and the Postal Inspection Service, and the U.S. Department of State also seized nearly $3.7 million.

That's a lot of money, but this week's By the Numbers honor goes to the 281 arrests.

Businesses aren't the only fraud victims: The coordinated efforts of global agencies, dubbed Operation reWired, focused on BEC schemes, which also are known as cyber-enabled financial fraud.

A number of the cases involved international criminal organizations that defrauded small to large sized businesses, while others involved individual victims who transferred high dollar funds or sensitive records in the course of business. The scams not only affect the victims and targeted companies, noted investigators, but also the global economy.

The sophisticated scams often targeted employees with access to company finances and businesses working with foreign suppliers and/or businesses that regularly perform wire transfer payments, according to law enforcement officers.

The same criminal organizations that perpetrate BEC also exploit individual victims, often real estate purchasers and the elderly. The victims were convinced to make wire transfers or send checks to bank accounts controlled by the criminals.

In addition, the con artists also targeted sensitive information such as personally identifiable information or employee tax records instead of, or in addition to, money.

Myriad scams employed: The Internet Crime Complaint Center (IC3) reports that nearly $1.3 billion in losses was reported in 2018 from BEC and its variant, Email Account Compromise (EAC). That was nearly twice as much as was reported the prior year.

In addition to the scam masterminds, the con attempts also involve money mules. These are individuals who may be witting or unwitting accomplices who receive the scammed funds from victims and then at the direction of the main fraudsters transfer the money into other accounts.

BEC scams are related to, and often conducted together with, other forms of fraud, including:

Unrequited romance. In these scams, victims are lulled into believing they are in a legitimate relationship, and are tricked into sending or laundering money under the guise of assisting the paramour with an international business transaction, a U.S. visit or some other cover story. Romance scams are often used to find money mules.

Fake employment. Victims here are convinced to provide personal information to apply for work-from-home jobs. Once ostensibly hired, they are overpaid by a bad check and then instructed to wire the overpayment to the fake employer's bank before the check bounces. As with romance scams, fake work schemes are sources of money mules.

Fraudulent online vehicle sales. Victims of this scheme are convinced they are purchasing a nonexistent vehicle and must pay for it by sending the codes of prepaid gift cards in the amount of the agreed upon sale price to the fake seller.

Rental ruse. In these scams, a con artist agrees to rent a property and sends the victim a bad check in excess of the agreed upon deposit. The crook then requests the overpayment be returned via wire before the check bounces.

Phony lottery winnings. Victims of this scheme are convinced they won an international lottery, but must pay fees or taxes before receiving the payout.

If you ever encounter any of these scam attempts, first don't fall for them.

Then notify the appropriate law enforcement and consumer agency. The FBI provides a variety of resources relating to BEC scams through the IC3 website.

If you discover you are the victim of a BEC or EAC scam, immediately contact your financial institution to request a recall of funds. If it involves your company, notify your employer to report irregularities with payroll deposits.

Also file a complaint as soon as possible, regardless of the amount. IC3 staff reviews complaints, looking for patterns or other indicators of significant criminal activity, and refers investigative packages of complaints to the appropriate law enforcement authorities in a particular city or region.

Tax scam prevention, follow-up: Where taxes or taxpayer data is involved, also let the IRS know of the scam, both failed attempts as well as cases where tax data is compromised.

When your personal and/or financial and/or tax data has been compromised, consider placing a freeze on your credit account.

The IRS has a couple of online guides to help, the Taxpayer Guide to Identity Theft and Identity Protection: Prevention, Detection and Victim Assistance.

You also can find more tips on preventing tax ID theft tips or recovering when a crook used your information to file a fraudulent refund at my posts Don't become a tax identity theft victim and Fear you might be a tax ID theft victim? Here's what to do.

"In unraveling this complex, nationwide identity theft and tax fraud scheme, we discovered that the conspirators stole more than 250,000 identities and filed more than 10,000 fraudulent tax returns, attempting to receive more than $91 million in refunds," said IRS Criminal Investigation chief Don Fort in discussing his unit's role in Operation reWired.

"We will continue to work with our international, federal and state partners to pursue all those responsible for perpetrating this fraud, preying on innocent victims and attempting to cheat the U.S. out of millions of dollars," added Fort.

You also might find these items of interest:

Online and tax security tips

IRS, FTC expand electronic fight against tax ID theft

Latest tax scams use Social Security numbers, fake tax agency as hooks