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onehunnit · 3 months

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Cinema Studies Minor Gets Super Into Analyzing K-Pop Videos 2.2

Disclaimer: I'm still a student, no where near an expert, I will be wrong in some technical aspects. Also my interpretations are my opinion which means you may disagree and that's okay. Awesome even! Just be normal about it fr. This is also very out of order bc that's how my brain works. Also I am but a baby loretiny, which means my interpretations are shaky at best compared to what's been established. But the lore is confusing anyway so....

The World EP.FIN: Trailer Analysis pt 2: Sections

THIS WAS WRITTEN NOVEMBER 11TH 2023

Structure, Lines, & Perspective

Yo, Get This Camera Out Of My Face

Who Put Stanley Kubrick In My Album Trailer?

The Entire Set Crew Needs To Be Sucked Silly (Again)

Black and White In The Lore

Structure, Lines, & Perspective:

There are so many fucking lines. There are SO. MANY. LINES just look at the trailer again for me okay? Try and find a curve in the set. There are so few, it's astonishing.

Now for a place called Strictland, you may expect to see strictness. Well, you'd be right!

To touch back on German Expressionism, lines are used to imply rigidity and structure. Strictland is strict, and thus characterized by straight lines and sharp, clear angles. There is little softness, it's all hard [insert other adjectives here].

The lines in general lead our eyes to the action and provide awesome contrast with our characters. I would insert screenshots however. I will not

Yo, Get This Camera Out Of My Face (why he smiling like that?)

Close-ups and lighting are on the mind due to watching The Passion of Joan of Arc and talking about low-key lighting with my film professor for an hour. Low-key lighting is very even, and in this case I think it's used for cosmetic reasons. Listen, flawless skin is not just skincare and make-up, lighting is huge in it too!

But it gives off the effect of being youthful, which helps since the youth are the new generation and Loreteez are ushering in a revolution and change comes with that.

Who Put Stanley Kubrick In My Album Trailer?

Yeah so Hongjoong is doing the Kubrick stare. The subject tilts their head down while looking directly into the camera. This naturally casts shadow and is unsettling as it breaks the fourth wall. Originally used to depict characters who just tipped over into madness/insanity and its rly creepy, which brings into question Hongjoong's intentions. Is he happy that the girl rejected him? Is he planning something more sinister?

The Entire Set Crew Needs To Be Sucked Silly (Again)

Note: Loreteez is used interchangeably to mean the members in the lore as a whole and as the “A” Universe members. Halateez is used to describe the “Z” Universe members.

I just want to talk about a few shots in particular that made me go crazy insane when I saw them. This is where the interpretations start going by the way.

This one is soooo perfect to me. You don’t understand. So let’s get into it.

Mise-en-scene (MES) is a term that boils down to everything you see on screen: set, props, costumes, actors, blocking, lighting, anything!

It’s separated clearly into foreground (desk and Wooyoung) and background (Yunho and the machines), though for our purposes we’re going to call Yunho’s field of depth the mid-ground and the curtains the background.

In all fields the technology is old and anchored, contrast that with the futuristic holograms in this shot:

Which emphasizes the binary between old and new. This is also the first time (if i recall correctly) Loreteez is using this technology, which indicates growth in their cause over all.

Back to the first shot. While the foreground has all this older technology, it still fits in with Strictland as, from what we have seen, don’t have modern/future tech at their disposal. And why would they have it readily available if their whole deal is suppressing human emotion (“The disease is human emotion” - The Awakening of Summer (Rhythm Ta) Kingdom Stage) and expression. You don’t have a need to develop better technology.

The mid-ground is much of the same; straight lines running straight across. Everything is old etc. But there are some round lights that break it up. Roundness? Out of the ordinary, right?

The background is more interesting though, because you finally get some curvature in this. The curtains are loose fabric and they drape which adds a different texture and shows that it’s not constrained to fall a certain way.

Pictured: Notes written on the screen.: Structure in machines, straight lines ins background / Fabric = loose, curves, along w/ circle and roundness

In all, the progression of structure to flowiness presents how Loreteez is, looming over the background, and a change from the rigidity of Strictland.

The second shot comes later, with Hongjoong stopping in front of the Academy student. She is standing in a cubby created by the walls angling upward, dividing the scene. Obviously too, Hongjoong is in all black while she is in white

Black and White in The Lore

As a quick aside: Black and White in the Ateez universe is so curious to me. Black in our society is understood as “bad” and white “good” and Ateez uses that binary to create shades of grey (which we WILL be discussing more thank you very much!) and nuances to the social issues being presented and critiqued. Strictland is white, and in that society, it is the “good”; saving its citizens from a disease. Loreteez are “bad” because they are rising against the norms and trying to change them, threatening the institutions Strictland has put into place.

While initially we saw Halateez as “evil” due to their masked appearances and black garb when they first appeared, it became clear in Answer that they are not the antagonists, rather on the same side as our protagonists, Loreteez.

But beyond that lineation: In this particular shot, the lines of the wall and the people walking past make an invisible line for Hongjoong and the girl to cross to be pulled to either side, good or bad. The invisible line being made of people in movement and the inanimate wall is not lost to me either; showing how barriers are not just physical but can be social/psychological

14 comes up here, that is a # to look out for. Maybe the number of songs? JK LMAO that'll never happen 😭 <- I wrote this before the trackless came out okie?

Despite all my black and white talk, the curious thing about the color grading is that there is no true white in the costumes, it is all grey. There is a mix, we have moved on from the clarity and have moved into the murky soup. The grey and nuance are exacerbated in the next shot.

In this, the only thing I can think of is the idea of yin and yang, that at the heart of good and evil there is the other. Again, there is an invisible line separating the girl and Hongjoong. On the girl's side are her white shoes and the darkness behind her. On Hongjoong's side is the black of his attire and the highlights in front of him. But it is not white, rather it is grey, which is a transitional color.

But at the end, the girl does not take his outstretched hand, she walks on, he smiles (quite evilly tbh, go back to the Kubrick stare section). Out of what? Pride maybe? Everything is going to plan? He's certainly not unhappy so…

But that concludes part 2! I might do more, but who knows?

#x.txt #x.cinema analysis #ateez

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prurientpuddlejumper · 4 years

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Out Tonight (Part 1)

Part 2 ->

Summary: Barba would never admit to being a RENT geek, but when he gets drunk and no one from the SVU squad is there to see him, he can’t resist the siren call of the karaoke stage. You would never approach a stranger at a bar, but when you hear Barba singing your favorite musical, you gather the courage to ask for a duet.

Rafael Barba x Female Reader

Warning: NSFW, 18+, Dub-con!! Everyone is enthusiastically willing, but also super drunk. So... use your best judgement. (No smut this chapter just some intense kissing)

4,144 words

The thing about Scotch whisky is, it’s a drink meant to be sipped. A.D.A. Rafael Barba drank a Scotch every day, especially after a difficult case. One or two, mulled upon over the course of an hour.

At over 40 percent alcohol by volume, the practical difference between Scotch, the gentleman’s drink favored by lawyers and Wall Street executives, and the tequila swigged by rednecks ripping their shirts off at a dive bar is the speed at which the beverages are consumed.

The thing about being a Scotch drinker is, you’re only ever one particularly bad day and a few extra drams carelessly tipped down the hatch away from getting well and truly shitfaced.

This would never happen to A.D.A. Barba. He had complete control of himself at all times. In the courtroom. In his manner of dress. In his speech. He won cases other prosecutors wouldn’t dare to take on, because he was meticulous. He was relentless. And he never let his guard down.

But on this particular day, nothing was going according to plan. All week, in fact, a case he was certain of had been falling apart piece by piece, slipping through his fingers, until today, a man who made Barba’s stomach sicken walked out of the courtroom a free man.

It was his fault. He got cocky. The victims subjected themselves to retraumatization just to testify on the hope of getting some kind of justice, and it was all for nothing. He let them down. He let the SVU team down. The look on Benson’s face when the foreman delivered the not guilty verdict made Barba want to crawl inside himself.

So he did what he always did on bad days, and went to his favorite bar alone to sit quietly and numb his sorrows over a glass of Macallan.

Except it wasn’t fucking quiet. This was supposed to be a subdued, sophisticated establishment that didn’t draw a big crowd. This was his bar! But for some godawful reason, the new manager had decided—unbeknownst to Barba—to try hosting karaoke night.

Karaoke!

He scowled at the colored stage lights. Glowered at the rambunctious crowds of young people. Seethed at the bad 80’s music and off-key bellowing. He dropped heavily into his usual seat at the bar and exchanged withering looks with the bartender, who slid him his usual drink without needing to be asked. What the hell was happening to his life? Barba began to wonder whether he had anything under control at all, downing the dram in one shot.

As he gasped on the fiery liquid burning down his throat, he gained determination. They were not going to take his bar from him. Not a chance. If these tourists and college kids wanted to have their revelry, they would have to do it with a grumpy old killjoy glowering at them. He ordered another round.

***

An hour and a steep tab later, and Barba was gripping the microphone with sweaty fingers, belting out One Song Glory at the top of his lungs.

He rationalized it as “better bend than break,” but the truth was, he had dreamed of becoming an actor before going to law school to please his mother. His inner theater geek was always waiting to slip out whenever he let his guard down, but since that was never, it was side he rarely indulged. Tonight, his head was spinning, and it didn’t seem like a bad idea.

“One song to redeem this empty life. Time flies—and then no need to endure anymore!”

The wooden bar stool creaked as his weight sank back down on it, and he ordered another drink to question about his life choices. “Will I ever be remembered for anything besides my failures?” he asked the glass. He’d come this far from the poor barrio where he grew up, but every step was a fight. He couldn’t just be good, he had to be better than the privileged WASPs he was competing against. He had to be the best. Every little mistake, every lost trial, could be the end of all he had worked for.

Barba was so busy nursing his latest drink, he almost didn’t notice someone else drunkenly belting a track from RENT. Except, as his head swung up to listen, it wasn’t drunken belting at all. A woman with a low-cut blouse and tight jeans that hugged her curves was singing so seductively, staring right at him. She winked and sweetly begged him to take her out tonight.

No—he was imagining it. He was just drunk, lonely, and pathetic. She was working the crowd, making everyone feel like she was singing just to them. Maybe she was a Broadway performer to have that skill, or at least a master at flirtation. Either way, she was way out of his league. There was no chance she had singled him out.

***

So what if you didn’t know anybody, and it was dangerous to go alone? You were in Manhattan on a Friday night—you were going to go out and have a good time, dammit!

The promise of karaoke drew you into a small but packed bar, and you were a few drinks in when you heard a voice like an angel and a rock-star had a baby singing a song from your favorite musical ever. The voice belonged to a singer wearing old-man suspenders, a pink tie, and a light coating of stubble from not having shaved since morning. He was fashionable, you guessed. Dapper. But it was that expressive voice that mesmerized you. As he sang, your gut was wrenched with the emotional pain woven through each note.

You were smitten. You tried to go talk to him, but the moment the song was over he vanished into the tightly-packed crowd. It was silly. It was far too bold to approach a stranger in the big city, but the warm tipsy feeling in your gut gave you confidence to hatch a plan.

Step one: Locate him from the stage.

Step two: Impress him.

Step three: Bond over mutual love for RENT.

Step four, if you managed to get that far, was a bunch of squiggly question marks and “kiss his face?” hastily scrawled in pencil. It was a long shot, you knew that. You were way too shy, and he was far too handsome not to have a girlfriend, or a boyfriend, or a husband. Frankly, even if he were single, he was way out of your league. But still, the nebulous step four could simply be “Have a fun night with your new karaoke buddy,” and that possibility alone made you feel like glitter was exploding inside of you.

When it was your turn to sing, you found him from your elevated vantage—he was sitting far from the stage, at the end of the bar—and tried to catch his eye. You’d been using Out Tonight as your karaoke icebreaker for years, so you’d gotten good at playing up the sexiness, tossing your hair and biting your lip. Your clumsy ass had even picked up a few dance moves to spice it up, and you gave them your booty-shaking all when you saw him look up at you.

You were glad you’d worn the jeans that made your butt look fantastic, and your sexiest, strappiest sandals (which were actually Tevas with a two-inch wedge heel, purchased from an outdoor gear store). He was watching you with fascination as you pouted the lyric, “don’t forsake me,” at him.

It sent a shiver down your spine to think he might really be looking at you that way.

The moment you got off the stage, you were bombarded by guys offering to buy you a drink, asking for your number. It was discouraging that Sexy Suspenders was not among them. Apparently your sexy routine worked, but entirely missed its intended target. Then again, a man like that probably let women come to him.

Ducking and weaving past your suitors like they were physical obstacles and not people, you reached Suspenders. The bar stool next to him was open, held by a briefcase and folded suit jacket. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, and his hair was a little mussed. He appeared to be deep in conversation with his empty glass. You took a step forward to approach him, but an anxious constriction in your chest froze you in place.

Who do you think you are?! A gorgeous, sharp-dressed city guy will never even give you the time of day! Your mother’s nagging voice chimed in to warn you not to talk to strange men in bars when you’re out alone, in New York City, no less. You grimaced at your awesome double-dose of anxiety. He would either laugh in your face, or you were about to get murdered. Hooray!

But there was a loneliness in his demeanor that encouraged you he wouldn’t laugh, and up close, you noticed he was so short you could probably pick him up like a little baby chipmunk if things got out of hand. Ignoring how thick his forearms were, of course. But if he crushed you with those, you would die happy.

***

The next singer on stage had started screeching a rendition of Don’t Stop Believin’ with ten drunk buddies, and Barba was squeezing his eyes closed to try to drown them out, so he was caught completely unaware when a tap on his shoulder startled him.

“Is this seat taken?”

His vision blurred. He had to rub his eyes and look twice to be sure he was seeing who he thought he was seeing. “Mimi!” he blurted. “From the—nice, um—no. No one’s sitting here.”

He moved his belongings to the top of the bar, and you sat on the vacated stool, quite pleased with yourself. The bartender immediately handed you a pink icy cocktail with a slice of lime, and pointed his thumb to someone at the other end of the bar who paid for it. Barba followed his gesture to a very cute guy in his twenties and felt a twinge of double-edged jealousy that the most beautiful woman he had ever seen was most likely about to get up and leave him, and that the drink hadn’t been for him, because frankly, he couldn’t blame you. You did get up, but only to crane your neck to find your benefactor. When you did, you gave the world’s dorkiest thumbs up, while conspicuously putting your hand on Barba’s shoulder.

Barba’s lips spread into a smug bastard what-are-you-going-to-do-about-it smirk as he stared down his attractive rival. His head cocked to the side pleasantly. The other man’s flirtatious gaze fell into an annoyed tick. You sighed with relief as he moved away.

Turning back to Barba, you realized your hand was still on his shoulder and quickly removed it. You inhaled and said, “I heard you singing you were amazing do you want to do a duet together? Can we? I love RENT! I’ve always wanted to do Light My Candle—can we do it together?” in one breath.

Your flurried gush of words nearly knocked him off his stool—he put his hands up defensively and sat wide-eyed, nodding slowly as you went full babbling-nerd on him. You may not have been as suave as he initially thought, and oddly enough, he was okay with that. It was disarming, and your enthusiasm was infectious.

Because his instinct to distance himself from anyone he might risk forming a real emotional connection with wasn’t working at the moment, he grabbed you by the shoulders, locked his piercing eyes with yours, and emphatically answered, “Yes. We must!”

***

Having a karaoke partner is essential for Broadway musical numbers, as most of them are duets—two or more characters interacting with each other as the plot of the show advances. Light My Candle was one of your favorite songs, and snagging the mysterious suspendered singer meant you could finally perform it outside your shower.

It was a bouncy back-and-forth duet that was fun to sing, but you forgot how aggressively flirtatious it was until you had to ask him—you hadn’t even asked his name yet—if you had the best ass below 14th street, and about wax dripping between your… um, fingers. But the way he looked at you made seducing him so natural. You just had no idea if it was part of the performance, or if it was real.

When the song was over, you bounced on your toes, clinging to his arm for balance as you tripped on the stairs down from the stage, squealing, “That was so much fun!” He put his hand around your waist to steady you. It felt like it was made to be there.

His face was flushed red and his eyes sparkled with exhilaration, and he quickly agreed to another duet, though he muttered, wiping a light sheen of sweat from his brow, “Thank god no one from the precinct is here.”

Performing together with a partner always makes you feel a connection—even if it’s just drunken karaoke. When you sang one part of a harmony and he picked up the other part, your voices became two halves of a whole. And with musicals, it’s as much about acting as it is singing. He threw so much emotional intensity into the lyrics, which gave you something to respond to, throwing it back at him in fluid conversation as your voice soared above his and dove beneath it again.

You hadn’t had this much fun in a long time, and you had a feeling he hadn’t, either.

Not that you had any way of knowing, really. You guessed it by the ease in which he embodied Roger’s stubborn refusal to open his heart, by the mournful way he lifted his drinks to his lips like he was toasting at a funeral. His expensive leather briefcase and formal attire, too, suggested a well-paid but dreadfully boring line of work, like a financial manager.

Your guess was dead-on, in truth. Barba was vigilant against dating anyone he met professionally. Even if there had been a secretary or paralegal or two he’d had chemistry with, for the sake of his career, he could not afford to conduct himself in a manner that could raise even the hint of a scandal or ethical conflict in the workplace. And anyone he met outside of the workplace… well, he didn’t. His entire life revolved around his job.

The bartender had just brought a fresh round of drinks, and your head rested on your fist, elbow on the bar. Barba was staring deeply into your soul with those pretty green eyes, trying to figure out how he managed to get you and how he could keep you.

“We should do Another Day next,” you grinned.

“Who do you think you are, barging in on me and my guitar!” He sang in a gritty rock voice, poking at your chest accusingly while holding an air microphone with the other. You forgot to be surreptitious and blatantly checked for a wedding ring.

After Roger’s verse, you sang back Mimi’s part, seductively leaning in closer to him. “There’s only us. There’s only this...” As you leaned closer, his eyelids drooped, and his eyes darkened. “Forget regret, or life is yours to miss.” The smoky smooth molasses of Scotch was strong on his breath. He studied your face hazily, his eyes drawn down to the movement of your lips. There was no mistaking his attraction for a performance now. You sang softer and softer until your forehead was resting against his, your lips almost touching. Then you just breathed.

“No day but today,” he mulled the lyric and the impulsive circumstances that had led him to being with you in that moment. “I should follow that advice more often.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” you murmured. “Here I am in the city, having fun,” your voice slowed to a crawl as your eyes flicked up and down his face, “...with a perfect, handsome stranger...”

His tongue ran over his lower lip again as his eyes dropped to your mouth and clouded over with some sultry thought.

You’re not sure which one of you moved first, but in the next moment his lips were melting into yours, desperate and passionate. That tempting tongue of his ran along your lower lip now, sliding easily inside as your mouth parted to invite him within, swirling in heated wet circles around yours. It was heavy with the taste of Scotch and the faint bitterness of coffee, as if that were all he’d eaten that day. You curled your fingers into his hair and deepened the kiss, moaning into his mouth, and his broad arms closed around your back and pulled you off your bar stool onto his lap.

His skin was burning hot, and waves of heat coursed up through your body like you were both on fire. Your pulse thundered in your ears until it drowned out the off-key music, and each pounding heartbeat sent a corresponding throb to your cunt. Your eyes closed. All that existed was the messy clashing of your teeth and tongues, the woody-sweet scent of his cologne filling your lungs, the heat of his strong hands on your back, and the bulge of his cock twitching beneath you.

When you finally had to come up for air, and hopped back onto your own bar stool, suddenly self-conscious of how pornographic that nearly was, all he had to say was, “I’ve never done that before.”

You blinked. “You’ve never… kissed someone?”

“Not someone I just met in a bar!” his eyebrows shot up and he sounded so utterly scandalized, your euphoric high from kissing him came crashing down. He saw you as some kind of cheap tramp for kissing him. Pretentious asshole. Suddenly you felt like shit.

You turned your attention to the second round of that fruity cocktail that random guy paid for. It turned out to be a pretty tasty drink, so you ordered another. Maybe you should have given that guy a chance.

“So, are you here by yourself?” Barba asked your profile, not bothering to hide the patronizing concern in his tone.

“Yeah,” you said without looking up.

“Jesus. I thought so. That’s really dangerous, you know.”

“Ugh,” you groaned and pivoted away from him further, leaving him confused. So first he implied you’re a slut, and now he was pulling the whole, the city is full of predators, but I’m a Nice Guy—let me walk you home routine. This is what you get for picking a guy based on how good he sings.

“I did not mean to imply that. I only meant that I’m usually more... careful.” Oh. You must have said all of that out loud. Oops. “But you’re right to be suspicious of my intentions. There are… all kinds”— he breathed the word out in a jaded huff—“of tactics predators will use. Manipulations, brute force, drugs, fake personas… And all they have to do is claim consent and half the time the jury believes it even if the physical evidence is horrifying.” He was getting visibly angry thinking about it, his drink dangerously close to spilling as he clenched his fist around it.

You stared at him. “Um.”

“Oh,” he cleared his throat, “I’m an A.D.A. for Manhattan. Prosecutor. I’m a lawyer,” he clarified when the acronym earned no look of recognition in your eyes. “Lately I’ve been working with the Special Victims Unit, so when I see someone drinking alone late at night, talking to complete strangers,” he gestured at himself. “You have no idea how many sexual assault cases start with this exact scenario.”

“Big-shot lawyer, huh? Sure, now pull the other one.”

“What?” His head cocked at you in utter bewilderment.

“Pull the other… leg. You’re pulling my leg?”

“I know what it means, I’ve just never heard it said by anyone under sixty. Are you secretly an old man?”

Your cheeks burned. “You’re an old man,” you retorted childishly.

His lips folded in on themselves as he tried to keep a straight face. “I don’t know. What can you tell me about the Model T?”

You took a grumpy swig of the fruity strawberry cocktail.

“What was World War II like?”

“So are you really a lawyer, or do you just use that line to pick up chicks?”

“I am, I am!” he laughed. “I can prove it. Let’s see...” he pulled out his phone, brought up a search result for his name, and scrolled through headlines. “DA’s Office Helps NYPD Persecute Immigrant Families,” “Justice at Last for Serial Rapist Victims,” and others rolled across the screen. He narrowed his eyes as his index finger hovered over each one. “Oh, sounds like I’m an idiot in this one,” his mouth twitched into a sardonic smirk, “and I’m a real asshole here… Oh, look, here’s one where I’m the big hero.” He held out his phone so you could see the photo of him in another flashy suit and bold tie, speaking to crowd of reporters in front of the courtroom steps. He looked so sexy in his full three piece suit, and much more severe, his face hard and intelligent. The caption below it praised his victory putting away a notorious rapist, and identified him A.D.A. Rafael Barba.

“Wow. That is you. Who knew I was doing karaoke with such an important guy?” You slung your arm around his shoulders, which were irresponsibly broad and solid. God, being with him felt so right. Casual touches were so comfortable even though you’d just met, and the way he responded, melting under you, sent a wave of heat through your lower back.

He kept flipping through headlines, his brow quirking a little at one, eyes narrowing at the next. Then he saw one that made him stop scrolling. He put the phone down on the bar and scrubbed his hand over his face and hair, blinking back tears suddenly forming. You caught the glowing screen before it automatically locked. The headline was from today. “Local Teacher Found Not Guilty—.”

His head dropped into his arms on the bar. “It was my fault. If I had done something different, been more prepared...” A sad groan emitted from the Barba puddle.

“I’m sure you did everything you could,” you soothed, and rubbed his back sympathetically. “So one guy got acquitted. It happens every day.”

“I know,” he growled. This fact was the opposite of comforting.

“You’re sure he was guilty?”

“He did it. To at least a dozen kids over the last two decades, but no one wanted to testify, or the statute of limitations was up, and then our key witness… There must have been something I could have done, something I didn’t think of. I let him get away with it.” His shoulders heaved as he sobbed into his arms. “I fucked up.”

You kept rubbing circles over his back, whispering soothing words to him. You leaned down and peppered his head with soft kisses. He shifted off the top of the bar and began crying into your chest, his arms wrapping around you like a baby lemur. You held him tight, suddenly understanding that this was the memory he came here to drown. This was why all night you had caught him looking wistful every time the conversation lulled. “I’m sorry,” you murmured. “It’s alright. Shh.”

His arms tightened around your waist, then relaxed, tension melting from his body. “This is nice,” he sighed into your shirt, enjoying being snugly pressed against you, surrounded by warmth. “Thank you… this is nice.” He never let anyone comfort him like this. Never let his need for comfort show under his stoic exterior. If his judgment were functioning properly, it would have struck him as a red flag how easily he sought comfort from a stranger that he wouldn’t have accepted from his closest friends, but it felt good to let it out.

Eventually, he remembered his dignity and sat up, drying his eyes on his sleeve and glancing regretfully at the wet splotch he’d made in your shirt.

“Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat. He picked up his latest glass of scotch, and swirled its half-empty amber contents before setting it down again. It was possible he had drunk enough.

“It’s OK. You had a bad day.”

His lips tightened at the corners in agreement. “Usually Liv is the only one who tries to cheer me up. So, thanks for…” He closed his eyes and tilted his head. “You’re very nice.”

Your chest fluttered. He was terribly cute, and far too vulnerable for you to be having these lascivious feelings about him.

#Rafael Barba #Rafael Barba x Reader #ada rafael barba #Raúl Esparza #svu fic #female reader #my writing #Headcanoning Barba as good at singing naturally #and is a fan of RENT change my mind #emotional hurt/comfort #sorry about the dubcon everyone but sober Rafa would never sing in public XD

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aemoonie · 3 years

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Renjun anon here! I think I need to claim some emoji for my asks to make it easier to identify myself, so uhhhm can I be ☕ anon? Anyways onto the podcasts bc I have some thoughts as well.

I also felt that haechan was quite shy at first, and he mentioned he's a shy person to people he doesn't know, and that he's always been too nervous to talk to red velvet bc he views them as more established in the industry. What also stuck out to me is when Haechan mentioned his mom and how supportive she is but that she's worried about certain things his work involves that he has to be careful about.

NoMinHyuck were definitely more quiet than I thought they would be but their interviews were really nice. It was nice to see jaemin be so included bc he seems to zone out or be in his had (I feel like we saw another introverted jaemin moment), but i'm glad that boy drinks regular coffee now, he's down to my daily caffeine level of 2-3 cups. I sideeye Eric for drinking 3-4 cups though 👀. I loved how comfortable they felt, especially jisung bc it's hard to make him truly relax and open up like that. It was nice to see him tease mark a bit by saying mark talks a lot lol.

I was also glad they asked mark about Canada and whether he's homesick, i'm glad he mainly isn't and tbh I didn't even know his fam moved to Korea for him, that's so sweet!! There was this fancall where the fan was from vancouver and mark kept on asking her where exactly she's from and to tell him things when the girl was just trying to ask her question lol so he probably still thinks of Canada from time to time. Or when Eric asked him about this speech he did where he thanked god and how having strong beliefs like that was unique and how surprised Mark was bc noone really brought his religious beliefs and values up before.

Btw regarding renjun I watched the third part of the hello future past, present, future vids where he mentions that to him freedom is basically like drinking coffee in a forest and how he'd want to do that and just relax in nature. I find it so fascinating that he speaks in metaphors like that. I read a comment that he probably overthinks a lot or is in his head and would just want to live a quiet, comfortable life, and I mean who wouldn't want that? I also noticed in the podcast that for some reason Eric didn't really know that renjun is ethnically korean and asked him how he speaks it so well lol. Finally I think Jeno was the one who mentioned to Eric that Eric is known for his manners (which shocked Eric lol) and that they all felt very comfortable which was really lovely to see!

I also feel like they know how to navigate the industry by now, multiple members said that when they were younger they thought they had to do everything like how others wanted (and I think this goes for both the fact that they're so handled in their job and were literally groomed as minors and the pressure they probably felt from the public) but they feel like they can do things their way, which is good, and I think they're all having some realizations as they get older and experience the same or similar things we do. I think it's partly why renjun feels like he just wants to relax and have time for himself, and is being more open to sharing his thoughts and being genuine. And also who wouldn't get overwhelmed in that career? But in general it is very rare to see someone be so open despite being famous. I read this post once about some actor, that I just can't seem to find, who described that to lessen the feeling of being in a very controlled environment he takes time for himself to do things like work out by himself or small things like that and I hope the dreamies can have little moments like that for themselves too.

yes that's a great idea lmao i'll use that tag from now on! <3

yeah, the haechan thing i didn't really know before so it was kinda nice to see this side of him! it makes sense that he feels comfortable with nct and the staff, so you wouldn't notice in their regular content. i feel it's kinda refreshing to see a different, more quieter side of all of them, actually! <3

i also think you could really see jeno taking on this kind of "leader" role between the three of them, he clearly felt responsible for giving answers and i kinda loved the way he gave little sounds inbetween what eric was saying. idk why but i like when people do that lmao. and the compliment thing was also super sweet and funny!

and YES oh god this boy and his coffee! 8 shots is really insane no wonder he had to cut it little by little. maybe it had something to do with his distaste of milk, but like get oat milk or smth dude o.O. i'm so glad he drinks regular coffee now T-T his mix sounded so wild, i would've made him sign some insurance if i was the barista T-T

oh, yes, the mark canada section was really heart-warming <3 i thought it was super nice to hear that his family moved for him, in earlier content i noticed when he talked about them he sort of had a hard time. but now i feel like there is more nostalgia when talking about canada for him, and less this emotional strain of missing his family, which i think is great!! i'm really happy for him <3 and his strong religious beliefs also add so much to his complexity as a person, i think in korea religion can be a touchy subject (esp. as an idol), and is considered smth really private. but i kinda like that he let's it shine through here and there and while i am not religious myself, i can respect that so much!

and renjun is just so <//3 he's so dreamy fr. he always finds such interesting ways to tell stories and describe things and you can tell that he thinks in a more abstract way. it's really intriguing to listen to him, i don't think i would ever get tired of it! and the way he looked at mark and jisung when they said they lost their rings <//3 mans was feeling betrayed lmao. and as a note, i think eric just didn't really look up his birth city all that much for which i can't really blame him. you'd kind of have to know that this area has korean influence and since he is also a foreigner, i don't really think it was a big deal and it wasn't to renjun i think (at least he didn't look irritated at all).

and your last point is sooo true, i know when everyone went crazy after go, talking about how much they grew up - but back then it was more physical and musically. but by now i think you can really feel how they matured and feel way more comfortable about who they are and what they do. as adults, i can imagine that the company is backing off of them at least a little bit, so i think they just enjoy they newfound "freedom" and a more mature character development. i have to say i noticed the biggest changes in renjun and jaemin, both kinda stopped portraying a certain image and feel super genuine now. and lastly, i think our boy jisung finally had some time to shine! for more quieter (or: calmer) idols, i think this podcast format is sooo much better than all those bigger variety shows! but i guess that's only natural, coming from an introvert myself lol.

i also hope they have these moments, it sounds like a great tip <3 i think you can kinda guess that they find these moments themselves, like jeno with his cycling or mark with his writing, or even haechan and his gaming. i just think it so nice to see the maturing mentally atm, it's kinda rare to see it so clearly in the industry (from an outsider's perspective)!

#☕ anon #replies 💌‧₊˚#mndchldsung

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in-this-body-of-mine · 3 years

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To The Bone (2017) - Analysis and Charting

Let’s go! I’m NOT excited because life is hard but what better way to distract myself than to do this kind of shit. No one cares, anyways.

Since this is the first one, let me tell you what we’re gonna do here. I’ll include the IMDB summary, a summary with spoilers, the placements in the chart, we’ll go over each item (also, spoilers abound) and finally my review and final thoughts. Yes, it’s gonna be long. Read at your own risk.

IMDB summary: A young woman, dealing with anorexia, meets an unconventional doctor who challenges her to face her condition and embrace life.

Summary with spoilers: Lily Collins plays Ellen/Eli and from the start of the movie she is on the brink of her disease. She was just kicked out of a recovery center and she gets an appointment with a ~cool unconventional doctor~ played by Keanu Reeves. She goes into ANOTHER inpatient treatment home to be treated by him. Shit happens, she seems to be getting better somehow, but then she spirals down, runs away, and after a... near death experience (I wish this was an euphemism) she decides to try recovery again and goes back to the treatment home. That’s where the movie ends.

Chart placements!

Now for each item:

White: Ellen or Eli is played by Lily Collins, who once played Sandra Bullock’s daughter in that movie were she was a Karen. It doesn’t get whiter than that.

Female: She changes her name to Eli mid film (which is how I’ll be calling her here bc we respect chosen names in this household) but she still seems to identify as female and be referred to as such, so here we have it. We do have a guy in the treatment home, but we’ll come back to him later.

Teenager/Young adult: I’m pretty sure she is 19 but every review I see says she’s 20. Either way, she dropped out of college even though she just started it. The actress, however, was 28 at the time the movie was released.

Wealthy/seemingly well-off: Her family has the money to send her to inpatient a bunch of times, and they make a point to mention how they have connections so she didn’t have to wait in line to see this new doctor. Case closed.

Skinny actress from the start: As we know, Lily Collins is already thin and she did struggle with anorexia in the past. Why, however, did she lose weight for this movie? They said it was her decision “to make the character more authentic”. As if not being skin and bones wouldn’t be enough. As if eating disorders don’t come in every size. They shouldn’t let her. The need to shock people is a very dangerous sign to me.

No distinctive personality or hobbies/interests: I’m glad Eli has a thing she loves. It’s not super present, but it’s there, and it’s plot relevant. She loves art and in the story, she had a tumblr (look, it’s us!) where she shared drawings related to her ED and a girl liked her drawings so much that, when she killed herself, she mentioned Eli by name in a note. But that isn’t really explored too much and I kind of got disappointed by that.

Good student: We don’t really know about that... and I don’t think it matter, it’s ok.

Seemingly irrelevant love interest: Why? Just why do we need Luke? Luke is the only guy in the home, and we can SEE that he’s only there to be Eli’s love interest. He wasn’t needed. None of the important plot points have anything to do with him. Make her date a girl. Make her date NO ONE. This is about eating disorders. She could have closer friends in the house. Why was this necessary. Her whole speech about how love is a lie could come from a friendship but no. They had to shove pretty white boy there.

Daddy issues (sometimes coupled with mommy issues): I find this extremely funny but her dad isn’t in the movie. At all. He’s alive and well, but he makes a point to never come home when Eli is even awake. I don’t think they cast an actor for that. As for mothers, she has three, and it’s a trip. Her stepmom on her dad’s side is very out of touch but she wants what’s best for Eli, but she really hates Eli’s biological mom. Bio mom, in turn, is described as a “bipolar lesbian” and the stereotypes are just... ugh. Bio mom has a wife and she is a bit weird too. They sent Eli to live with her absent dad bc “they couldn’t deal with it anymore”. This brings us to a great scene where we can see Eli shrinking in her seat and when the psychiatrist asks her what she is feeling she says “I’m sorry I’m not a person anymore. I’m a problem.” And that’s great to see. But at the same time, I hate that her whole issue in this movie seems to come from her family and anorexia is just a thing that happened, with some vague references to control.

*Triggering event*: We never see it and it’s okay - but I kind of wanted some more explorations of motives because we have ZERO.

Anorexia as diagnosis: As I always say, what is even the point of making a cool looking movie about EDs if your protagonist is not only anorexic, but also terminally anorexic? Ugh. That’s the only portrayal of anorexia that happens in media and I’m fucking tired.

Checklist of habits (manual for those looking for one): I mean, I mark this down but as I always say: everything is a manual if you’re looking for one. But if you’re doing more than not eating or purging or exercising I’ll judge it as a new tip. A lot of us already thought of/did most of them probably. But the marking remains.

Inpatient treatment (or extended hospital stay): As I said, she is kicked out of one treatment center and goes straight into another. What fucks me up is that the movie HAS other characters with other diagnosis, but we never see anything about them. We don’t see their journey. We only know Luke is a dancer bc he is the love interest. We only know Megan is pregnant and then she’s not bc this sends Eli in a spiral. We only know Kendra is not straight bc she makes a joke about it (and Doctor Beckham follows with a horrible joke about conversion therapy). Did you notice Ciara Bravo was in this movie? I didn’t on first viewing. She has like two lines. The whole movie is centered around Eli and every scene in the house feels like all the other patients only care about her too.

Emotional tipping point: Megan loses her baby and for some reason this affects Eli. Luke kisses Eli and for some reason she’s pissed. At that point, I was annoyed. She has a bad session with Doctor Beckham who basically tells her to grow a pair and stop complaining (which is insensitive as a doctor, but as a person I wanted to do the same) and she decides to quit and leave. She has to go to her mother’s home and I’m supposed to care. Stepmom is mad but doctor says she needs to hit rock bottom. She weights like 70 pounds dude. Rock bottom was about ten pounds ago, next stop is a coffin, mate.

Mom hugs: And here we have the emotional turn around of the movie and it’s just... make it make sense. She goes to her bio mom’s ranch. Her stepmom # 2 tells they’ll have therapy with horses (?). Eli goes sleep in a tent and bio mom cries and says she accepts if Eli wants to die. Very supportive I guess. They have this weird bonding moment where the mom feeds her a bottle like a baby and look, if you liked that, good for you, but I don’t get what I was supposed to feel about it (but that’s mom hug #1). She goes on a hike next morning and... dies? Either way she has an out of body experience where she talks to Luke and sees how she looks - which is weird to me. Didn’t we go over this in the beggining of the movie? Didn’t we establish that she does know what she looks like and doesn’t care? But still she seems shocked and they have a cryptical conversation and she wakes up. And just like that, she’s ok now. She meets up with the other stepmom (mom hug # 2) and goes back to the home.

Happy ending: In the last scene Eli is back to the home and we understand she’s going to try to recover for real this time. I’m okay with that specifically, I think it would be bad if they pretended she just got better with no relapses and everything is fine, but it’s a hopeful ending. Despite the fact that we have no idea if she won’t have a fit and leave in two days and that we never know anything about anyone else and Megan, who lost the baby, never comes back. It’s fine. At that point, I didn’t expect much.

Analysis: I was hesitant to be critical bc this movie was based on the real life experiences of the director and Lily Collins. But fuck it, this is my circus and I’ll clown as much as I want. While I do understand that, I have a lot of thoughts.

Mainly, I need to say that while I understand this is her story, this is a story that was told so many times. I’m tired.

The general public that wants to defend the movie says “well you can’t tell ALL stories”, and while I agree, these people probably only saw this movie about the subject. If you HAVE (or had) and eating disorder, you probably saw tons. And they ALL tell the same story. Which is why I started that chart in the first place.

This movie does have good moments. I do like the acting, I saw people complaining about Keanu Reeves performance - but I do know these were people who disliked the movie entirely. I think his performance was great, Lily Collins performance was great, and their chemistry was great. The best scenes in the movie happened between the two of them. The one thing that I LOVED was their first interaction when he calls her on her bullshit. “You’re not thin, you scare people, and I think you like that.” YES. I never heard anyone talk about that. And I guess I’ll never will, bc the movie itself never talk about this again either. Also when she justifies the tumblr where her art triggered a girl so much, she says that she was just drawing what she knows, he calmly tells her that she can draw, but she doesn’t have to share it online tho. I liked their interactions because often ED patients are treated with silk gloves (is that the expression?) and sometimes there is a need for some though love. I also love Liana Liberato who plays her sister and that’s about it.

The problem with the doctor ends up being: what’s his method? How are you going to cure her? The method makes no sense. I don’t see the reasoning. I don’t think anyone does. And somehow it works and she goes back there.

I think my major problem with the movie is that it has the same issues every ED portrayal before it. It’s the same story again. I think it shines the most in the whole “it’s not about food, it’s about control!”. It IS about food though. For a lot of people, it is. Maybe not for this director or for Lily Collins, but for so many people it is about food. It’s about control as well, and it is possible that there is other factors related to it, but you can’t chalk it all up to a control issue and pretend it’s just whatever. If the food didn’t matter, it wouldn’t be an eating disorder.

Because of that, we have this heavy focus on her family issues and nothing to do with food. We have people trying to rationalize - maybe it’s bc your mom is a lesbian, maybe it’s bc i didn’t bond with you as a baby - and all that does is to make her lesbian bipolar mother seem like a crazy asshole and her dad seem like an absent asshole as if this is the only factor here. Give me SOMETHING. Any connection to food. Any sense. Nope. She just won’t eat bc her family is fucked up. Hoe, that’s all of us.

And I think the movie unintentionally DOES glamourize anorexia. Subtly, yes, but it does. Eli has SUCH an easy time refusing food. She doesn’t seem to think about food as much as she thinks about herself and her family and Luke and being annoying. She knows a bunch of calories and she overexercises. Idk. Not to mention that moment when Kendra asks her about purging and she says “it’s not her thing”. I mean. It is no one’s thing. No one likes it. It’s a compulsion. And if you have anorexia that severe and you are not with a feeding tube, you do eat every now and then, and you do have purging mechanisms. If she had said she prefers overexercising as a purging mechanism than to throw up, I would believe her. But the movie acts as if she just never eats ever and somehow she’s still standing. Give her a feeding tube then. It would be more believable.

I know it sounds kind of ranty, but my point here is: this extremely anorexic girl, that looks like a sack of bones, and gets that by never eating and doing crunches all the time, it is the wet dream of a fatphobic society with a 71 billion weight loss industry. This is the dreamy and frugal idea of anorexia that people have when they are deep into the illness - not when they recovered as the people involved say they did. I get that this is a very personal project. But it’s flawed. It doesn’t do anyone any favors. It just tells the same story, for the millionth time, but since this time it was in a big platform, more people saw it, and it was better done, with a better budget and with a good enough resolution so I can see every bone in Lily Collins body.

Anyway, that’s it for today. If you read all of that, thanks. Since this is Netflix, I’m assuming everyone saw, but the other movies are out there and if you need liks, hit me up. Be back soon.

#eating disorders #eds #pro ana #not pro and you know the rest #to the bone #thinspo #thinspiration #ed things #eds in media #thinsppi #anorekcia

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ziracona · 4 years

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Do you have any tips for people who want to start writing? Specifically dialogue or how to research thoroughly?

Sure! For starting writing in general, the best advice to start with is look at the stories you yourself love, and identify what you love most in them. Relationships of a certain kind, high-stakes fight scenes, murder mysteries and scenes where people have to choose under pressure who they’re going to trust, redemption arcs, someone ending up adopting a child more or less because the kid has no one else to look after them? If there are scenarios you daydream about writing stories in your head, what are the common themes? No matter how oddly specific that gets or how often or scarcely you see it in fiction, I garuntee you you’re not the only one who likes it, and it’s good to base writing ideas around whatever you want to see more of yourself. You’ll be happy writing it, and the other people who yearn for it too, once they find you, will be very happy to see some as well! For me, I’ve always really enjoyed stories where someone who has no connection to the action ends up choosing to do the right thing and gets pulled into dangerous scenarios, found family, hope punk, and scenes where someone is injured/sick/drugged/unconscious/trapped and ends up at the mercy of someone they expect to hurt them, but who chooses to do absolutely nothing bad to them and saves/helps/looks after them instead (to name a few of many, many faves, haha). Some of those are pretty broad and some are wildly specific, but I love writing them all, and I’m not the only person who enjoys reading them either, so it’s a great kind of springboard to work with. : ) —Ok, for the specific questions though—I’ll do them in two parts to go with the two questions.

For writing dialogue, the biggest thing is to establish distinctive voices for all your cast. That sounds a lot harder than it is. The first real step is just to have some idea who they are as a person. Now, I know you probably don’t have time to be Bleach and have a sidebar backstory that goes for eleven pages about every guard who gets knocked out (and tbh I wouldn’t recommend it either haha), but don’t worry—you don’t need to. A lot of the time, I know very little about characters who aren’t primary cast when I write them first, and only during writing really get to know them either. Think of it a little as improv acting. If you ever have like, done bits with your friends, you actually know how to do this whether you’ve acted a day in your life or not. Friend greeting you on the phone with a fake accent & pretending to be an interviewer & you responding in kind & being like “Well yes, in my best selling novel How to Kill your Ex-Boss” and just running with it totally counts. You have no idea who the person you’re pretending to be is. You don’t know their favorite food or where they went to school. But you do know what they’re going to say next, because you’ve tapped into the person you’re running, and that’s the only thing you need to know. Same if you have ever given yourself fake interviews in your head. You’re playing both interviewer, fiction self (for whom you are for SURE making up details on the fly) & anyone else involved in that scene simultaneously. Writing can be pretty similar. Now, I do this to a bigger extent then most people, because I method-write (which uhhhh, I cant completely recommend, as it is devestating on the emotions :’-] ), but it works used less extremely too.

The idea, really, is to give characters a voice in your head, and have that voice not be the same for any two characters. And I mean voice literally. What do they sound like. Do they talk fast, get excited & into topics easily? Always sound mildly done with everyone else? If it helps, pick the voice of an actor or a friend or different tones you can use yourself speaking outloud—just give them voices. A lot of it will start flowing pretty naturally once the character is created. Writing has a lot of overlap with acting, in that you really need to grasp and be able to kind of jump around in a lot of different types of peoples’ heads. Most people have significantly different ways of speaking, even if they don’t have different accents than your other characters. Some people cuss more, some never do, you get varried vocabulary sizes, and just word choice and tone. I’m probably making this sound a little hard and overwhelming, but trust me, it’s not so bad. Mostly it will come naturally once you get a mental idea of what your character is like, sounds like, and the vibes they give off.

From a more technical standpoint, a couple of really good suggestions are to run dialogue in your head before writing it, and to read your written dialogue out loud. No matter how well you write, you will think dialogue better most of the time. This is just how it goes, because writing is a different process. So something that helps is to mentally “play” a scene out, and jot down some of the dialogue as you hear it, or to pause in writing to run some of the scene mentally, then pick back up again. Another big one is that almost all people, when writing dialogue, will start out writing too formally. Now, that’s totally fine if your character actually just speaks very formally, but most people 80% of the time speak using contractions. Like, you’d probably say, “Hey! How’re you doing? It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” and not “Hey! How are you doing? It has been a while, has it not?” (And obviously, most people aren’t going to actually write out “has it not,” but simpler ones like “How are” vs “How’re” or “It is” vs “It’s” are super common to write. Try to keep that in mind writing dialogue, and also try reading your dialogue out loud verbatim. A lot of the time, something will read totally normal to you, but the second you hear it out loud, you’ll go “Oh. Oh, no. No one speaks like this.” It is SUPER helpful, and kind of funny too. Also, don’t be afraid to use verbal interrupters like “Uh” or “Uhm” or substitues for them like “Well” and “Like” —people use ‘em when they speak. We also tend to interrupt our friends to agree when talking about stuff, because the way language is set up a lot of the time you know the end of a sentence before it is said.

Other things that govern how characters speak a lot are their comfort level in a scene and what they want, how open or closed off they are about themselves in general, and their personal ways of thinking in general. For example, Joey Harmin and Quentin Smith are extremely fun to write in scenes together for me, because they both follow fairly understandable and clear logical thought paths, but those paths are completely different. Like they could not be operating on less similar wavelengths half the time, which is hilarious. There’s an exchange I haven’t uploaded for New Dawn Fades where they’re talking for the first time, and Joey is operating nearly 100% on small-picture context (But since you woke up, I have been very nice to you. Why don’t you trust me?) and Quentin is operating at nearly 100% big-picture context (You have killed me before—I have literally no reason to think you won’t any second now once again. I have no idea why you have not already). And both thought lines make total sense for the character to be following, but they could not be more confused by each others’ response. People think super weirdly and super different from each other, and that’s amazing, and some times you legit wont totally get what wild shit your own character is on, but that’s fine. You don’t need to—you just need to know it makes sense to them, and be able to understand it on some logic level, even if you could never really get it emotionally or more really than ‘in theory’ on a personal level. Also, side note—sometimes people speak super differently when in a professional setting vs relaxed, or with different friends, and that’s totally fine. Also-also, you might notice that if some characters spend a lot of time together, they start to speak similarly—that’s super normal too—don’t worry. It’s not you doing a bad job. Friends tend to pick up each others’ mannerisms and speech to some extent, and this is wildly more apparent when they hang out together.

This was a very long and in-depth answer to writing dialogue, but really, don’t let it overwhelm you. The TLDR is more or less just give them different voices in your head, and listen to them, then write down what you hear. Read it out loud to make sure it sounds like them if you feel unsure about it. I personally get into character and try to really think as/become them a bit at least when writing, because I approach writing from a very acting-based standpoint becuase that’s just how I am wired, but even if that’s not how you vibe, just know them a little. Know once you’ve talked to someone for like, three minutes, you have some idea how they talk. The synonym they’d chose, if they’d agree, or disagree, or just give a judgy look, or stay quiet. Know them that well, and try to hear them in your head. Read everything you write for them in that voice, thinking that voice well you write, and it’ll do wonders.

Now, for research.

First up, research is FUN! It’s amazing. It’s so wild to learn things and dip into thousands of parts of human existence you had no idea about at all. Try to think of it as a plus, not a pain, because really, it should be. Now, to be fair, I lean heavy into research—I’ll do days of research to try to find something out if I have to, and I have. I’m learning some of how to write and conjugate an extremely dead language right now for a fanfic, I’ve done massive deep dives from everything to ancient cultures and religions, screen shotting films to zoom in on set detail to learn what artist or band a character is into, what they drink, what they own, to the appproximate timing from specific streets in New York I’ve never seen to each other by specific subway line, to a myriad of wounds and diseases, to mental illness, to historical events as insignificant as marsh draining in specific cities. But bro? It was fun. Sometimes it’s a lot, but the thrill of finding what you were looking for? It’s great.

Now, I’m not saying you need to be me if you don’t want to haha. But when it comes to researching whatever you want to research, here’s some tips: First up, if what you are researching has anything to do with a human experience? (Mental illness, physical illness or injury, sex, birthing, death, how it feels to shoot a gun, or fall from a great height, or have a PTSD episode, anything like that?) You really need to hear it from people, if at all possible. The good news? In this day and age? It super is, almost always! Even with death. You can find people describing death (body death, not complete brain death) experiences they went through, and it’s very cool. I definitely recommend discussion threads, like Reddit, and YouTube videos of people giving their personal accounts for this kind of thing. They’re amazing resources, and also usually surprisingly fast! This is especially important for stuff like neurodivergence, disorders, mental illness, drug experiences, or anything else that’s on a cognitive more than physical level, because if you look at just textbook explanations, they’re not only usually very incomplete, but sometimes even inaccurate. Listening to people can give the truth if it’s missing, and the majority of the time while that’s not the biggest issue—especially concerning like, wounds or freezing or a near drowning experience, etc—it gives it a completeness a medical account just can’t. Also, if you have got any personal experience to lean on? Go for it! I’ve never been electrocuted horribly really, but when researching for the torture sequence in Proven, I both looked up a ton of first-hand accounts and some science to better understand what was going on, and took my own experience of the electric shocks I have gotten as the first building block in making a mental picture of what it would feel like to go through that. Obviously, being shocked hard enough to be flung backwards from a cattle fence (my history) is a far cry from being subjected to parrilla torture, but having a small amount of basic knowledge of the kind of pain electricity causes was useful as a first block in translating the information I was reading into something I understood better.

For non human-experience based research, a lot of it is pretty easy to look up, even if you wouldn’t think so. For example, guessing at the time period for cars in Autohaven and searching different years + truck + brand names for American cars was actually a really short process for finding a match—same with the make of the metal gas cans, back when I was trying to determine when, exactly, Philip was from. Visual image searches are great when applicable, especially if you’re trying to figure out what something is, because chances are if you describe a plant you saw once as ‘Tall lake reed plant with hotdog bun looking top,’ someone else will have once used some of those words when searching for a cattail as well. Also, for non-human research, books and academic papers are great, but so are non-academic sources like videos and photos for locations or objects. Sometimes again though, human info will honestly be where it is at, like reading firsthand descriptions of specific places. For most things, just type what you’re looking for into a search engine honestly and start there. You can totally start on the Wikipedia page for a city or a Greek god or a type of bomb, and move on from there—people put references in wiki articles, and you can check the bottom of the page for the specific source too. You can go on from basic knowledge to add or subtract keywords and refine your search. It’s pretty simple once you get going. If you’re getting extraneous results because a film title shares the name of what you are looking for, or a song or whatever, try quotation marks for an exact match, or - and then quotation marks around what you see that you want gone from results. Pretty basic stuff. Tbh, a lot of the time, it’s all you’re gonna need. Want to write a Stranger Things fic, but you have no idea what movies or shows were popular in the US at the time and need to know what they’d be watching in a scene? Honestly, searching “1980s (or 1980whatever-more-specific year) popular shows” will probably get you what you need in like 4 minutes. Also, if you’ve got a parent who was alive at the time and lived in the place, or older friend (or younger, I don’t know you, maybe this one doesn’t apply to you because YOU were there, but you’d have to ask a teenager irl now what the kids are into for a 20teens story, haha), utilize that resource and just ask them. Discussion spaces again, a massively useful resource. You can find people talking about their shared experiences with almost anything, and hear it more or less first-hand.

If you’re trying to learn about culture or history, again, first-person accounts are where it’s at. If you can’t find any, go for the next best thing, which is descendants or historians with a personal connection/interest. If you really, really can’t find much of that (as sadly has been the case for some cultures or religions I’ve researched in past, considering the lack of documentation period and/or intentional culture erasure going on), then read what you do find on it with a grain of salt. Who wrote it, and when? What biases did they bring? Also, often an old document like that might be the only first source you can find, but taking whatever badly documented info they have and trying new searches with the specific language you learned from them can yield new and much better results. Just do your level best. ^u^ Really, that’s all anyone can do. Sometimes there will be things without much out there period, and you don’t have to like, put 97 hours of research in combing your local library for any thing you may have missed for the fic you’re on right now or something. Just do your best, do what you can, and care, and you’ll be okay. It can seem daunting, but doing your sincere best is what anyone who does know the answer—living or dead—would care about, and it’s an important thing /to/ do, and also a pretty informative and fun one. Also, I swear it’s not as intimidating as I might make it seem. Pretty much always you’ll be able to find some decent chunks of solid and very useful information eventually, on anything. And most things actually do not at all take that long to research. I’m a monster, who likes to down research more and more each morning like I’m building up a resistance to iocaine powder to someday win a battle of wits, but you really don’t have to be me, and if you want to be, chances are that means you also just really heckin love learning new facts, so you’re gonna love the wild deep insanity of creating It’s Always Sunny Meme level conspiracy walls trying to track down ancient evil trees in mythology to figure out what in the goddamn the Entity really IS and you’ll adore it all. If you’re not, trust me—that’s completely fine. Most research is gonna take between 20 minutes and a few hours, depending on the level of complexity, and once you learn it, you have all this cool new knowledge! Like that you can fake a death with tetrodotoxin so well someone with a high but not fatal does in them could die undergoing an autopsy! Or how much opium kills someone, how it actually feels to black out, how hard it actually is to chloroform someone, or that wolves have been known to hold funerals for loved ones, or how to stitch a wound. It’s like, amazing. Join me, and become that thing from Adventure Time going “I have approximate knowledge of many things” while rubbing its grimy hands together with glee.

Uhhh haha, I made this one more concise wildly, but the TLDR version is just ask people or read or watch what people who have undergone X thing say it is like (oh, and make sure to read more than one account—big one with accuracy). For non-human research, start with just a basic search. If you’re a student and have access to academic searches more easily, totally use that. If not, don’t worry. Lots of academic search compilation sites are still open to you, and honestly, you’re only going to need to turn academic for highly specific and wildly rare information period. Most of the time, hear it from people who know the answer. Discussion forums and YouTube journal-type videos are fantastic resources. For what living in rural Wisconsin in the early 1980s was like for Philip, I searched about living in the early 1980s in rurual Wisconsin, found specific names in an article for the kinds of cheap apartments common, adjusted my search, and found a ton of good resources by people documenting the struggles and mistreatment of life there at the time, and also found out Milwaukee is surprisingly one of the most dangerous and racist cities in America, then and now, on the way. For Kate experiencing being forced to drink bleach, I watched seven different people on YouTube talk about their experiences drinking bleach, and read up on the medical side to understand the science of what happens to you, plus a few text descriptions as well. But really, both of those were pretty fun and fascinating and quick research stints. Most are. I super recommend trying some deepish dives out, even just for fun and not with writing planned in mind at all!

Anyway, I hope this helps! I wrote it at one in the morning & didn’t proof because I feel very bad and need to pass out to try and heal, so sorry if there are any errors that make this hard to read. Thanks for asking! This was fun to answer. Please feel free to ask any follow-ups if there’s something I didn’t seem to cover, or you want to know more about either of these or something else. I’m certainly not the world’s leading expert or something, but I got some fun methods and tips I’ve developed over the years I’m happy to share with a fellow writer (or bored or curious person just interested in the process, haha). Again, I gave long answers because I wanted to be thorough, but I promise neither dialogue nor research is a difficulty level reflected in the length of those answers—that’s just me being me. Don’t let it intimidate you! They’re both fun and actually not so hard things to do. You just kind of need to learn your starting off points and get your sea legs, and the rest mostly comes naturally and easily and is very fun. It’s super satisfying to read a line and be like “Only you, my dumb child” seeing the stupid crap they say, or “You’ve come so far” watching how they’re choosing to reach out to someone now vs as the story’s start; or to have needed a way to have a character pry open a wedged car door and find just exactly the perfect tool you could even have a logical reason for them to easily find in the scene and be able to sit back down thinking YES!!! I got it!! —it’s a rush, and very, very satisfying. I’m sure you can do it!! And I wish you the best of luck. I sadly made this on mobile because I forgot tumblr sucks and won’t let me retroactively add read mores on mobile now and it’s too late for me to change that, and I’m so sorry this is so long 😭😭😭, but I’m tagging it “long post” so hopefully tag blocks can still save people :’-] — anyway! Hope this helps and best of luck. Night! 💙

#ask #anonymous #writing #writing advice #long post

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slaxl-rose · 3 years

Text

1║THE ONE WHERE MONICA GETS A ROOMMATE

[ FRIENDS ] [ Season 1 - ? ] [ Joey Tribbiani x OC ] started: 12th/dec/2020

-> I obviously don't own F.r.i.e.n.d.s

-> This is a slow burn book

-> Updates will probably be every week. If not, every second week. (I've finished school for this year and i have a lot of time on my hands :) )

-> This book may include mature and triggering scenes

-> There are more chapters of this story published on my wattpad account @ -rogerscar

--------

"I just....I just want to be married again!..." Ross Geller sighed.

A woman wearing a wet wedding dress pushed open the door and started frantically searching the room.

"And i just want a million dollars!" Chandler says as he extends his hand hopefully.

"Charis?" Monica says as she walked up to the woman.

"Oh Monica hi! I just went to your building and you weren't there and then this guy with a big hammer said you might be here and you are, you are!" the woman rambled as she spotted her dear friend Monica.

"Can i get you some coffee?" the waitress calls.

"Decaf" Monica says as she points to her friend.

"OK, everybody, this is Charis! Another Lincoln High survivor" Monica says as she pulls Charis towards her group of friends. "This is everybody, this is Chandler, and Phoebe, and Joey and- you remember Rachel? And my brother Ross?" She says as she points to each person.

"Sure!" Charis smiles as she waves her hand at Rachel. One of her old-time friends. She then extends her hand and walks over to Ross but his umbrella opened causing the two to jump back slightly. "Hi, oh!"

Ross sits back down with a defeated look washing over his face. Joey gives him a friendly pat on the back.

Once Charis sits down in between Phoebe and Ross on the couch, everybody looks at her expectantly.

"So you wanna tell us now, or are we waiting for four wet bridesmaids?" Monica says

"Well...it started about half an hour before the wedding. I was in the room where we were keeping all the presents, and i was looking at this gravy boat. This really gorgeous Limoges gravy boat. When all of a sudden- sweet and low?" Charis looks up when the waitress hands her, her drink. She then continues her story "I realised that i was more turned on by this gravy boat than by Barry! And then i got really freaked out and that's when it hit me.. how much Barry looks like Mr. Potato Head. I mean i always knew he looked familiar, but..... Anyway, i just had to get out of there and i started wondering, 'why am i doing this? and who am i doing this for?' So anyway i just didn't know where to go, and i know that you and i have drifted apart... but you're the only person i knew who lived here in the city"

"Who wasn't invited to the wedding" Monica replies

"Oh, i was kinda hoping that wouldn't be an issue" Charis says as Ross picks up a teaspoon and stirs her coffee.

»»————-　　————-««

Later on, everybody was at Monica's apartment watching a Spanish soap on T.V and trying to figure out what was going on.

"Now, i'm guessing that he bought her the big pipe organ and she's really not happy about it" Monica says while pointing at the screen.

"Daddy, i just- i can't marry him!" Charis says as shes on a phone call to her father.

"Ooh, she should not be wearing those pants" Chandler says amused while looking at the T.V

"I say, push her down the stairs" Joey answers

Phoebe, Ross, Rachel, Chandler and Joey begin to cheer "Push her down the stairs! Push her down the stairs!"

"C'mon daddy listen to me! It's like all of my life everyone has told me 'you're a shoe! You're a shoe, you're a shoe' And today i just stopped and said 'what if i don't want to be a shoe? What if i wanna be a.. purse! or a..a hat!.... No i don't want you to buy me a hat, i'm saying that i am a hat!.. It's a metaphor daddy!"

"You can see where he'd have trouble" Ross chimes in.

"Look daddy, it's my life.....w-well maybe i'll just stay here with Monica and Rachel!" Charis says.

Everybody turns around to face Monica.

"Well i guess we've established who's staying here with Monica and Rachel" She says.

"Well maybe that's my decision... well maybe i don't need your money. Wait, wait! I said maybe!" Charis says loudly as her father hangs up the phone.

»»————-　　————-««

"OK, just breathe, that's it" Monica says to Charis as she holds a paper bag up to her face and breathes heavily into it. "Just try to think of nice, calm things"

"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens..doorbells and sleigh-bells and some..thing with mittens. La,la,la something with string" Phoebe sings.

"I'm all better now!" Charis says while pulling the bag away from her face.

"And hey, you need anything, you can always come to Joey. Me and Chandler live right across the hall and he's away a lot" Joey says while placing his hand on Charis's shoulder.

"Joey! stop hitting on her... it's her wedding day!" Rachel says.

"What? like theres a rule or something?" He says.

[INTERCOM BUZZES]

"Please don't do that again, it's a horrible sound" Chandler says while pressing on it.

"Uh- it's- it's Paul!"

"Buzz him in!" Monica says immediately.

"Who's Paul?" Joey questions.

"Paul the wine guy, Paul?" Ross asks his sister.

"Maybe"

"Wait a minute.. your 'not a real date' tonight is with Paul the wine guy?" Joey asks.

"He finally asked you out?"

"Yes!" Monica says while Ross pulls her in for a quick hug.

"Ooh, this is a 'dear diary' moment" Chandler says from the kitchen.

"Charis, wait i can cancel" Monica says while looking down at her friend sitting on the couch.

"Please, no! go! i'll be fine" Charis reassures her.

Monica then turns to her brother "Ross are you OK? i mean- do you want me to stay?"

"That would be good" he replies

"Really-"

"No! go on! It's Paul the wine guy!"

Paul knocks on the door. "Hi come in" Monica says as she opens the door. "Paul, this is...everybody" She says as she notices everyone standing in a line behind her.

Monica motions for Paul to go sit on the couch and he does so.

"So Charis, what're you up to tonight?" Joey asks.

"Well i was kinda suppose to be headed for Aruba on my honeymoon, so, nothing!"

"Well, if you don't feel like being alone tonight, Chandler and I are going over to help Ross put together his new furniture!"

"Yes, and we're very excited about it" Chandler says sarcastically.

"Thanks, but i think i'm going to hang out here tonight" Charis says.

"Oh sure, okay"

"Pheebs, do you want to help?" Ross offers

"Oh, i wish i could but i don't want to" she says.

»»————-　　————-««

"Isn't this amazing?! I mean I've never made coffee before in my entire life" Charis says while placing two cups in front of Joey and Chandler.

"That is amazing" Chandler says

"Congratulations, while you're on a roll- if you feel like you got to make an Western omelette or something" Joey says before taking a sip of his coffee.

He scrunches his nose before tipping it in the plant that sits on the middle of the table. "Actually, i'm really not that hungry this morning"

"Morning" Charis says as she notices Monica step out of her bedroom. Paul steps out after her.

"Morning Paul" Joey says. "Hi Paul"

"Hi, Paul is it?" Chandler asks sarcastically.

Monica and Paul step out of the apartment and Joey, Chandler and Charis shuffle closer to hear what they are saying. "I had a really great time last night"

"Thank you, thank you so much" Paul says.

"We'll talk later"

"Yeah" Paul says before leaning in and kissing Monica. She waves goodbye and steps back inside. "That wasn't a real date!" Joey says while smiling. "What the hell do you do on a real date?" he asks suddenly.

"Shut up and put my table back" Monica replies while walking away.

They all move to shift the table back into it's original spot when Charis speaks up "So like, you all have jobs?"

"Yeah we all have jobs, see that's how we.. buy stuff!" Monica says.

"Yeah i'm an actor" Joey replies.

"Wow, have i seen you in anything?"

"Oh, i doubt it, mostly regional work" Joey says.

Soon, Joey and Chandler both leave the apartment and Charis sits down at the table beside Monica. "Did you sleep ok? Did you talk to Barry? I can't stop smiling" Monica says

"I can see that, you look like you slept with a hanger in your mouth" Charis says.

"I know.. he's just so... you remember you and Tony Demarco?" Monica asks. "Oh, yeah"

"Well it's like that, with feelings"

"Oh wow, are you in trouble" Charis says while smiling at Monica. "Ok, i'm just going to get up, go to work and not think about him all day"

"Or else i'm just gonna get up and go to work" Monica finishes.

"Ooh wish me luck!" Charis quickly stands. "What for?"

"I'm gonna go.. get one of those job things" She says.

Monica smiles at her and heads out of her apartment.

»»————-　　————-««

"Guess what?" Charis says as she runs into central perk where everybody else was sitting.

"You got a job?" Rachel asks

"Are you kidding? I'm trained for nothing!... i was laughed out of 12 interviews today"

"And yet you're surprisingly upbeat" Chandler replies

"Well you would be too if you found Joan and David boots on sale" she says while pulling out a box from her bag. "50% off"

"oh, how well you know me" chandler says

"They're my new i-dont-need-a-job, i-dont-need-my-parents, i've-got-great-boots boots"

"How'd you pay for them?" Monica asks.

"A credit card"

"And who pays for that?"

"uhh.. my father"

»»————-　　————-««

"C'mon you can't live off your parents your whole life" Rachel says as everyone sits around their table at Monica's apartment.

"I know that! that's why i was getting married" Charis says

"Give her a break, it's hard being on your own for the first time" Phoebe defends.

"Thank you"

"You're welcome, i remember when i first came to this city. I was fourteen. My mom had just killed herself and my step-dad was back in prison, and i got here, and i didn't know anybody. And i ended up living with this albino guy who was like, cleaning windshields outside port authority, and then he killed himself, and then i found aromatherapy, so believe me, i know exactly how you feel" Phoebe says.

"The word you're looking for is...'anyway'....."

"Alright, you ready?" Monica asks

"i-i don't think so"

Everybody starts chanting as Ross holds out Charis's card. "Cut, cut, cut, cut"

She grabs the scissors and cuts the card in half then into quarters. The group all cheer for her as Monica gets up and hugs her.

"Welcome to the real world! It sucks. You're gonna love it"

#chandlerbing #joey tribbiani #friends #f.r.i.e.n.d.s #monica geller #joey #phoebe buffay #ross geller #rachelgreen #tvshow #slow burn #angst #fluff

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themaskedwriter · 5 years

Text

Cutting it Close

Clues: I like to ‘do things’ ‘in the wild’, like surround myself with rainbow people! If I’m not writing I’m hosting yet another session of Dungeons and Dragons or taking care of My Drunk Roommate.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Platonic! Tony Stark x Reader, Platonic! Sam Wilson x Reader, Platonic! Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 6k Warnings: Fluff all the way through

Summary: When you moved out to New York to escape a relationship and humdrum life, you had planned on getting a job working at a salon or barber shop. What you hadn’t planned on was getting a job at a barber shop at the foot of Avengers Tower and becoming the go-to for most of the team. You also hadn’t expected to catch the attention of Captain America’s baby blue eyes.

It was hard proving yourself as anything in New York City, the sprawling metropolis acting as the East Coast’s version of Los Angeles. Actors working as waitresses during the night so they could audition at Broadway and smaller theatre companies during the day, fashion designers swamping Mood fabrics with a raw hope of running into Tim Gunn and a camera crew; script writers, models, business start ups, writers, everyone swarmed this city. That didn’t even count the people who had grown up in this bustling nonsense and didn’t have the common sense to leave.

“I just don’t know how anyone can even afford to live in Brooklyn,” I lamented to my client as I raked a comb through the top of his hair.

The pompadour was back in style, high and tight shave on the sides with long sweeping locks on top held in place with way too much pomade. The only problem was guys these days didn’t want to have to put too much effort into styling their hair like they did back in the forties and fifties, hyper masculinity creeping in from the sixties and seventies when all the men wore their hair short and sensible following Korea and Vietnam.

“Unless you grew up there and have rent lock, you don’t,” the man laughed flipping a page of the newspaper he was reading.

Getting a job even working as a barber had been hard, most stylist and barbers out here got their license and job through apprenticing under an established owner and then received their job security that way. But I had to get as far away from my asshole ex as possible and there was no easier place to get lost than in a city that already had far too many people. I had gone into a lot of salons before finally a barber who was getting up there in age and low on staff decided to take a risk on a girl from some backwoods state.

“So where did you find to stay?” He asked in the sense that he didn’t care, he had just run out of small talk as I drug the straight razor along his nape to sharpen his outline.

“Small place in Greenwich Village. It seems like a good neighborhood so far,” I responded cheerily. I didn’t mention how every appliance I had didn’t seem to work, including my radiator which was starting to be more of a concern as the temperatures dropped. He didn’t want to hear my problems and I didn’t want him to think I was fishing for a larger tip. “All set, Mr. Conroy.”

I moved the mirror around behind him so he could look at the large one in front of him and see the back of his head to affirm that the neckline looked good and his cowlick was manageable. Paying his forty dollars for his cut and leaving me a five, I still managed to sell him a puck of the pomade I used before wishing him a good rest of his day and turning to clean up my station.

It was just me today, the rest of the boys who worked here had stayed out late for the Superbowl celebrations, rooting against Tom Brady and then having to drink their disappointment away had taken a lot out of them. I didn’t look up as the bell above the door tinkled, focusing instead on trying to sweep all the hair shavings into the bin.

“Hi there, just a moment please!” I called out over my shoulder as I rushed to toss the dirty towels in the hamper and grab some clean ones.

“Take your time, ma’am,” came the polite response, something that was a rarity in the sprawling metropolis.

Finally turning I stopped dead in my tracks as I stared up at a shaggy, but beautiful Captain America. I was not prepared for this, people in New York saw The Avengers out and about all the time. Getting coffee, coming in and out of the tower down the street for meetings, grabbing lunch. I, however, was not prepared in the slightest. I assumed they had their own people for their personal upkeep.

“Do you have any openings for a shave and a cut?” the Captain asked hesitantly after I gawked at him for probably an inappropriate amount of time.

“Uh, yes! Yes, sir! Come on back with me,” I ushered to my barber chair and underneath the thick tawny beard I could detect a hint of a rosy flush.

“Steve is just fine, ma’am.” He insisted and I managed to flash a smile.

“Well, Y/N is just fine for me.”

Steve settled in and I flared a cape around his broad shoulders and clasped it behind his neck. I ran my finger between the neck of the cape and his skin, like standard and ignored the shiver that passed down his spine.

“Is this too tight?” I asked habitually and he shook his head.

“No,” he answered softly as I ran my fingers through his long golden locks, pulling them horizontally from the ridge of his head so I could get an accurate idea of how long it was.

“What are we thinking today, Steve?”

“Well, um, I have to do press related stuff again so I need to get rid of all of it. Tony gave me an electric razor, but it got caught,” Steve lifted his chin to show where underneath there was a patch of what started as a clean shear to then looking a little mangled.

I giggled and nodded trying not to freak out that Captain freaking America was talking to me so flippantly about who could only be Tony Stark. “Well, at least you started underneath. Do you style your hair at all when it’s short?” Grabbing my clippers I slip a half inch guard on it and start running it up the back of his head, tossing the shaved parts off to the side.

“Sometimes I’ll use a little grease to spike the front. Sam says it’ll help with ‘the ladies’, Buck says it stops me from twitching it out of my eyes all the time like I did as a kid when we couldn’t afford to cut it.”

It’s strange, the raw brutal honesty that people speak to their hairdressers with. It’s something I’ve long become accustom too. Women have said they’ve had easier times leaving their husband than their hairdresser, but the men are the most loyal. They’re in every four weeks like clockwork and I selfishly hoped that Steve wouldn’t be any different.

A comfortable silence fell over us as I worked, blending his sides into his top as my shears snipped inches of rough and damaged ends off onto the linoleum floor. When I finished with his haircut I held up my hand mirror behind him like I always do.

“How’s this feel?” I ask and his runs his large hands through his hair.

“Wow, it looks exactly like I used to have it cut back in the day,” Steve admired, now looking more hipster than hobo since I hadn’t gotten around to his scruffy beard.

“Well, I cheated and used a reference picture,” I snickered and pointed to the far wall where Steve, Tony, Natasha, Clint, Thor, and Bruce all stood for a photo op after saving New York from hordes of aliens.

“Oh, god, I forget how many places around here have that dumb article hanging on their walls,” Steve grumbled, sobering instantly.

I bit my lip and mixed up the shaving cream. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m not from New York so I don’t think you’re all that impressive.” It was supposed to come across as teasing, but my tone fell flat and I instantly flushed hoping that I didn’t insult him.

Steve blinked his impossibly blue eyes at me a few times before breaking out into one of the most genuine, gut shaking, laughs I’ve ever heard. His right hand reached up to clutch at his heart, or grab his boob, I wasn’t really sure, and he doubled over in his seat. When he finally got control of himself he had to wipe a tear from his eye and he looked up at me with sparkling eyes and a wide smile.

“I cannot tell you how happy I am to hear that,” he wheezed and settled himself back into the chair so I could spread the shaving cream on his cheeks and chin.

I laughed softly and sucked my lips in, showing him to mimic, and when he did I spread the cream over his upper lip. Clipping the sharpening leather around my hip, I pulled out a worn leather pouch and flipped it open, the silver straight razors gleaming in the sunlight. Pulling one out I flipped it open, palming the ivory handle tightly as I drug the steel across his cheeks, scraping and sloughing off the coarse hair.

“I haven’t had this done since before the war,” Steve muttered carefully.

“Which one?” I asked, trying not to get overwhelmed by the spice of his cologne that was now assaulting me since I was so close.

“Oh, you know, just the big one,” he responded cheekily, letting me tilt his jaw up so I could carve around the sharp bone and down his throat.

“You’re awful trusting for someone who’s been in so many that they have big ones and little ones.”

“Yeah, well, if you see everyone as an enemy you wouldn’t get to meet pretty girls who told you weren’t all that impressive.”

I feel my cheeks burn and I can’t help the goofy smile on my face as I move to his chin, biting down on my bottom lip to get him to protrude the little baby beard under his plump bottom lip.

“Doc usually kicks out guys who try to woo me, you know,” I warn, the teasing tone of my voice working this time.

Steve tries to restrain the smile that wants to take over his face and crinkle the space I was shaving. “I’ll have to keep it to myself then when he’s around.”

By the time I finished shaving Steve and wiping the cream off his face with a warm towel he looked twenty years younger. Steve rubbed his large hand over his jaw as I removed the cape from around his neck.

“I feel like I lost ten pounds,” he joked and I looked down at the floor with all the hair at my feet.

“I could probably make a small dog out of that,” I joked back and immediately swept it into a dust bin. “I’m not going to come get mobbed for Captain America’s hair clippings, am I?”

Steve winced and pulled out his wallet. “God, I hope not.” He laughed and handed me a hundred dollar bill.

“I’ll get your change,” I commented and went over to the till.

“No, it’s all yours. You earned it,” Steve insisted.

“Steve, that’s like forty dollars for a tip,” I said in shock still holding out the bill.

“Thanks again, Y/N!” he beamed and threw on his jacket before backing out of the shop with a wave before I could make him take his money back.

It had been a few days since Steve had been in, the boys didn’t believe me at first so Doc had pulled up the security camera footage. They all bitched and moaned about how they missed speaking to Captain America and shaking his hand and bro-ing over whatever bros broed about before Doc erased the footage.

“Don’t trust them paparazzi sort. If the Captain wants to use us as his shop, we keep it to ourselves,” the old marine barked, causing the shop boys to quiet down and nod in agreement.

The day had been typical, a few fades, a shave or two, and the business man who came in once a week to see me for barely a trim just so he could have a girl wash his hair. He was lonely, but nice, and tipped well so I kept taking him.

Just as Doc was sending me home the door opened with it’s pleasant chime and the whole shop went quiet. I turned to look over my shoulder to see Tony Stark standing there, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt under his suit jacket and examining the humble little corner shop.

“Mister Stark,” Doc greeted walking forward to shake the man’s hand. “What a pleasure. How can I help you today?”

“I am actually looking for Y/N. Our resident star spangled man couldn’t stop talking about what a great job she did after my electric razor apparently nearly zapped his face off. Thought I’d see what all the fuss was about,” Tony explained looking passed the old owner and spotting me by my station.

“I can take you now if you’d like, Mister Stark,” I offered, slipping my jacket back off and hanging it on the hook, trying not to show how nervous I was.

I wasn’t nervous because it was Iron Man, Iron Man always had a mask on. Tony Stark, however, was on the front cover of most magazines, and headlining the evening news, and a prominent figure in the community. Tony Stark’s haircut and face were seen at least twenty times a day by very influential people and that was a very terrifying thought.

“Tony is fine, please,” he assured as he settled himself into my cracked leather chair after also handing me his own suit jacket which I hung up next to my own.

Flourishing the cape over him I performed the same routine; snap the cape, run my finger along the inside, ask if it’s too tight. Tony assured that the cape was fine and my fingers immediately went into his graying hair along his parietal ridge, pulling softly and feeling for texture and thickness.

“So you’re testing me, then?” I asked, hoping to come across nonchalant. “What’s your goal?”

“Oh, you know, just make me even more handsome if possible,” he responded, crossing his left leg over his right.

“Uncross your legs,” I demand immediately, lightly smacking his shoulder with my comb.

He startled slightly but uncrossed them hurriedly, Doc made a disapproving clucking noise from the register where he was watching his newest hire. I cast him a small look of irritation before focusing back at Tony in my mirror.

“Do you get your sides cut with clippers or shears?”

“You’re the professional,” Tony quipped with a bemused expression.

I chuckle softly and pick up my spray bottle, spritzing him down thoroughly before picking up a barber comb and my cutting shears.

“So, Tony, I’m sure you have someone you pay way more than us to make sure you’re coiffed all pretty. Steve couldn’t have talked me up all that much,” I teased as I started cutting.

“Hasn’t stopped talking you up, more like. I swear, he checks his hair every time he walks by a mirror to see if it’s grown enough yet.”

I paused and my eyes flicked to Tony’s in the mirror. “Was it too short?” I asked nervously.

Tony rolled his brown eyes. “No, he’s too anxious to come back.”

Feeling a different sort of nervousness creep into my stomach I went back to what I was doing. Making my way around the sides of his head I went to the top and then grabbed my thinning shears to blend the line.

“I’m not going to get a phone call from an angry, overpaid stylist, am I?” I joke as I move to mix up the shaving cream in a bowl.

Tony quirked an eyebrow at me as I snapped the leather to my hip and swiped my straight razor up and down the length.

“What makes you think my stylist is overpaid?” he asked curiously with a hint of challenge.

I laughed and swiped cream around his cheeks and down his chin. “All celebrity stylists are overpaid. It’s the hairdresser’s dream.”

“Including yours?”

“I dunno, it’s a lot of pressure doing celebrities.”

“Well, don’t worry, no pressure from my end,” Tony assured.

I shrug one shoulder lackadaisically. “I know, you’re not all that famous.”

“Yeah,” he drew the word out slowly. “Pepper likes to tell me that all the time too.”

The soft scrape of blade sloughing hair from his face was one of the most relaxing sounds in the world. Using the corner tip to make the hard corners of his signature goatee, the tips of my fingers resting lightly under his chin to lift it to the height I needed to not cut him.

“Get this close with all your clients?” he teased and I frowned, quickly pulling my hand away.

“I need you to not talk for like, five minutes, unless you want to lose your lip,” I admonish strictly and he smirked but complied easily enough to allow me to finish.

Swiping my blade clean on a towel, I grabbed a clean warm one and wiped the cream off his face before letting him examine himself in the mirror.

“Huh, yeah, not bad kid,” Tony praised as I snapped the cape off.

“Anything I can fix or change?” I asked before ditching it in the dirty laundry bin.

“No, looks great.”

Tossing the cape in the bin I pass him his suit jacket that I had hung up earlier.

“That’ll be sixty dollars, please, Tony. Can I interest you in any of the product? I used the Mitch Clean Cut on you today.”

“Easy there, Y/N,” Doc interrupted. “We’re just glad you decided to try us out, Mister Stark. Your service is on the house today.”

Tony furrowed his brows in confusion and looked between me and Doc. “Is she commission based?” he asked.

“No, sir, hourly,” Doc responded.

“Okay, well, I appreciate it. Tip for you, Y/N. You know, I hate to admit when the Cap is right, but, well, I’ll see you in four weeks,” Tony commented loftily, shaking my hand and leaving a bill in my hand with a wink. He was out the door before I could process the hundred he left behind in my palm or the promise of his return.

“Listen, all I’m saying is if you just even just trim the shagginess you wont look like some murderous caveman.”

The warm, teasing voice filled the reception area as the bell tinkled above the doorway to the shop. I looked up from the clipper cut I was quickly pushing through to see none other than Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes standing by the front counter. The guys had all taken off early for beers, leaving me to close on my own once again. Not that I minded, living in New York was way more expensive than my small town half way across the country. I would happily take all the clients they took for granted.

“There is nothing wrong with my goddamn hair,” Bucky grumbled angrily under his breath at his friend, his hands shoved deep into a leather jacket and a gray hood from his sweater under it pulled up over his head.

“Maybe not if you did anything with it. Like, wash it…or comb it…or ya know…anything really other than let it hang around your face or up in a manbun,” Sam sniped back with a friendly glare.

I smirked slightly. “I’ll be right with you, gentlemen, go ahead and have a seat.”

I finished the client in my seat to the sound of their playful bickering, paid him out and thanked him for coming in. “Alright, boys, who’s up first?”

“This man,” Sam said clapping his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and shoving him forward off the chair.

“What? I told you I wasn’t getting my haircut. I just came along because you promised me pizza after,” Bucky argued.

“Dude, I got my hair cut here earlier today. I’m still hurt you haven’t noticed,” Sam commented, his face looking exaggeratedly wounded before looking up at me. “I asked for you but they said you were closing then I felt too bad to tell the dude I didn’t want him to cut my hair.”

I cocked my head to the side and narrowed my eyes as I examined his fade. He instantly squirmed and rubbed at the back of his head. “Is it jacked up?”

“Joey did it, didn’t he?” I already knew Sam had been in earlier, Joey had been talking about his whole shift. The kid had been positively glowing by the time he left with the other guys.

“Yeah?” Sam’s eyes narrowed and he tried to move his body so he could see in a mirror as he continued to rub his fade self-consciously.

“Yeah. It looks good. I thought the blend was crooked but it’s just your ears, come on back guys. I’ll just sweep real quick.”

Behind me Bucky let out a bark of laughter and Sam scoffed telling him to shut the hell up.

“I guess your reputation proceeds you correctly,” Sam commented taking a seat at the station next to mine and turning the chair to face me.

I felt my cheeks heat up and frowned in confusion. “I don’t know how to take that.”

“Steve and Stark both said that you weren’t starstruck over the super famous superheroes,” Sam explained, waving away the notion that they had said anything bad.

“Oh,” I responded simply and patted my chair for Bucky. The man, while large and imposing, just shrunk further into his hoodie and looked at me warily.

“I don’t bite, dude, and I can hang up your jacket and zip up so they don’t get hair in them,” I offered, holding my hand out for his jackets.

“Um, can I…can I keep the sweater on?” he asked hesitantly, shrugging off the leather.

“Sure,” I shrug. “But you gotta flip the hood in.”

Bucky settled in while I hung up his jacket and pretended not to notice Sam mouthing at him to be cool. I’m not an idiot, I knew the story of Bucky Barnes and I figured he had plenty of shit he was working through and just being here was hard enough for him. Turning back I noticed he had stuffed his hood in so it was a giant lump behind his neck and I reached out slowly.

“I’m just gonna smooth this out, cool?”

He nodded and I carefully flattened out his hood under his collar before draping the cape over him. This time instead of snapping it closed first I held it at the clasp and looked at him in the mirror. He was avoiding looking into the reflective surface, his eyes cast down to where his hands were folded in his lap.

“Is this too tight?” I asked.

His eyes shot up to mine in the mirror briefly before looking away. “Can you go a bit looser?” he asked softly and I nodded, moving down one clasp and snapping it closed. He let out a noticeably shaky breath under my fingers.

“So I get the feeling that if I asked you what you wanted to do with your hair, you’d say leave it how it is,” I teased lightly as I grabbed a black comb from where it was resting on a clean towel and noticed the corners of his mouth twitch upward. I gently pulled a small subsection of his hair out with the comb, smoothed the shafts down and held it up towards the LED lights overhead. “But, you have about two inches of split ends that are just dead and not doing anything for you other than getting tangled and spreading to your healthy hair. If we cut all them off you should be good for another eight to ten weeks before needing another maintenance trim. Does that sound okay to you?”

Bucky swallowed the heavy lump in his throat before sending a glare to Sam who had been sitting quietly and letting me try to get Bucky settled before catching my eyes again. “Yeah,” he murmured huskily. “Sounds fine.”

“Great!” I was trying to stay light and chipper. Doc was an old marine veteran so I had seen my fair share of veterans with PTSD come through. Doc usually took them, but for all the older man’s brash and direct interactions he’d had with me; I’d learned a lot about to how to interact with a variety of people from him. It was fascinating watching Doc go from one client to the next, his personality changing to what the client in his chair needed.

“We’re gonna wash your hair first so I can cut it wet, okay?” I figured a step by step of what we were doing would be the easiest for him to handle. So he had the chance to say no to something if it made him uncomfortable.

I set my hand lightly across his shoulder, pulling back slightly when he flinched. “I need you to lean forward slightly so I can drop the back of your chair but not you.”

It was always unnerving doing your job under someone’s watchful eye. My first few weeks at the shop were rough with all the boys looking over my shoulder and Doc subtly checking over every one of my haircuts. But it was something else entirely to have Sam Wilson watch me with eagle eyes - well, Falcon eyes - as I handled his friend. He was making observations on me as a person, not a barber, and I had to fight the constant urge to squirm under his pointed gaze.

Gathering Bucky’s chestnut locks in one hand I guided him back down into the shampoo bowl slowly so he wouldn’t knock his head against the rim. “How do you like your water?” I ask, turning on the hose and sticking my fingers underneath as it warmed up.

“Hot as you can stand,” he responded, shifting so his neck would feel more comfortable against the acrylic tub.

“Want me to put a towel under your neck for some cushion?”

“It’s fine.”

Once the water was near scalding I started saturating his hair and looked up at Sam with a smile. “So, what smooth words did Joey use to get you in his chair?”

Sam smirked and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “He said you were stealing all the interesting clients. Had to throw the kid a bone.”

I smiled as I squirted some shampoo into my hands and started to gently work it through Bucky’s hair. “That was nice of you. He’s the biggest Falcon fan I have ever met. Please tell me he showed you his official hat?”

Joey was Doc’s apprentice, he was only seventeen and had tried to rob Doc with a water gun a few months back. Instead of calling the police, Doc offered him a job and the kid was a natural.

Sam looked extremely pleased with himself. “Yeah, I signed it for him.”

I hummed in approval as I applied gentle pressure around Bucky’s temples and the crown pressure point just above middle of his brows. “That was nice of you. He’ll be talking about it for weeks.” I deftly raked my fingers down the top of Bucky’s head to cup my hands just under his occipital bone and into the pressure points behind his ears where his jaw bone meets his skull. His eyes were closed and his breathing had evened out as he relaxed under my administrations.

I eased out of the massage so as not to shock him with sudden loss of contact as I started the hose up against. He startled slightly at the burst of water and I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from giggling. “Morning!” I chirped as I rinsed the shampoo from his hair and scalp.

“That was…really nice,” Bucky admitted taking another deep breath. “Was the shampoo supposed to tingle?”

“Yup,” I shut off the water and started applying conditioner to his long locks. “It has peppermint and tea tree extracts in it. Soothes and stimulates your scalp at the same time, but I just love the scent really.”

Rinsing the conditioner off I wrapped the towel around his hair and had him sit up so I could get his chair back in position. Tossing his towel in the soiled bin I start combing through his hair.

“Do you part off this front cowlick?” I ask, placing my comb on the spot just left of his center part.

“Sometimes.”

“Cool.” As I sectioned off his hair and started snipping all the dead ends off Bucky continued to relax more and more. “So what do you guys have planned for the rest of the night?”

“We were thinking of hitting Prince Street Pizza,” Sam said, having gone from watching me intently to scrolling on his phone.

“Oh, cool. I haven’t tried that one yet.”

“It’s the best pizza in Manhattan,” Bucky said with a face of total seriousness as he locked eyes with me.

Setting down my scissors and comb and flipping on the blow dryer and grabbing a boar bristle brush, I chuckled. “Well, then that will be the next pizza destination.”

“Wanna come with?” Sam asked nonchalantly.

I shook my head as I dried Bucky’s hair smooth. “I gotta call my mom tonight. If I don’t call her the same time and day every week she freaks out and thinks I got murdered.”

“You’re not from here,” Bucky observed, it was a statement and I nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, I moved here about a month ago.” I turned off the dryer and set it back in its cradle before removing the cape.

“How does it feel?” I asked Bucky, tossing the cape into the dirty bin.

Bucky actually looked at himself in the mirror and ran his fingers through his hair, not coming across any tangles or snags. It was soft and shiny and looked so much healthier than when he came in.

“It’s nice,” Bucky said with a small grateful smile. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, dude. I’m here every day except Tuesdays and Wednesdays.”

Leading them to the checkout, Bucky picked up a bottle of the shampoo I had used and like all the others left a more than substantial tip.

“So, eight to ten weeks Sergeant Barnes. Especially if you’re out saving the world and getting all battered. Also, switch from a regular elastic to a cotton tie, your hair is too fine for elastic, it’s breaking the cuticles of your hair.”

Bucky blinked at you a few times before nodding with a bashful smile, the tips of his ears a bright pink.

“I’d feel bad taking you from Joey, thanks again for doing all that Sam. And thanks for trusting me, Bucky,” I shook both men’s hands and Bucky chuckled softly.

“Well, we had to come see what actually got Steve and Stark to agree on something,” Bucky commented before both men departed with a friendly wave.

Looking up at the clock I noticed that it was a good half hour past closing so I locked the front door and started the closing chores, feeling good about what I had accomplished today.

The next day was Monday and I had been planning in my head all day what I was going to do with my middle of the week weekend. The last couple of days had been extra busy it seemed and I was looking forward to just lazing around the house and catching up on laundry and maybe do some prep cooking for the coming week. I had also been debating on getting a cat, so I would have someone to look forward to coming home to at the end of my shift.

“Captain Rogers! It’s good to see you again!” I heard Doc exclaim from the front where he had been showing Joey how to run some of the reports in the POS system.

My head whipped around so fast I almost slipped on the blend line on the client I was working on. Quickly going back to what I was doing so that no one could catch onto the small bit of bubbling anxiety that crept in. It had only been two weeks, there was no way he’d need his hair cut again so soon. Maybe a beard trim if he hadn’t been keeping up on it on his own. I peeked out to the lobby out of the corner of my eye and saw he was in fact still clean shaved so he must have been managing on his own and his hair cut was growing out just fine and didn’t need to be touched up quite yet.

He talked softly with Doc for a moment, shaking the older man’s hand and signing a quick autograph before taking a seat in the lobby, his hands folded in his lap as he patiently watched out the window into the Manhattan street.

The man in my chair impatiently cleared his throat and I mumbled a soft apology and continued his service. After finishing and checking the man out he looked up at me and then back at Steve still sitting in the chair. The man tossed a crumbled dollar bill at me. “Maybe next time pay more attention to what’s going on in front of you instead of getting star struck.”

I opened my mouth wordlessly, feeling the heat creep up on my cheeks as I fumbled with the bill he had thrown on the counter at me. Before I could defend myself the man was out the door into the cold New York air. Letting out a huff of hair and carding my fingers through my hair I shoved the dollar in my back pocket.

“What a jerk,” Steve admonished, looking behind himself at the door.

“Eh. It happens every once and a while.” I shrug and smile at him, leaning across the counter. “Thanks for sending me all your friends. I appreciate the referrals.”

“Well, you do a good job,” Steve said and then pink rose to his cheeks and tips of his ears. “Such a good job I was wondering if you’d like to grab a cup of coffee or something?”

I smiled so wide it made my cheeks ache. “I’d really like that Steve. I’m off in a couple of hours.”

“Go, take the rest of the day,” Doc hollered from across the shop, proving that he was most definitely not eavesdropping.

“You sure, Chief?” I ask over my shoulder, already reaching for my bag and jacket.

“Go on, before I change my mind and let Joey go with him instead.”

Steve held the door open for me as I threw my jacket on. As Steve smiled down at me and led me out into the loud and bustling streets of New York, I couldn’t help but think that this move was the right call after all.

#fic

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thatyanderecritic · 5 years

Note

Hi! So I saw a post of you talking about how blank MCs/inserts in yandere written stories typical have no personality because of the nature of being inserts. What would you suggest could be done if someone wanted to write a second-person POV story that is from a semi reader insert perspective. To give the narrating character an actual personality?

To write an MC: Writing Tips with Kai

Hey there anon. Kai here to answer your question.

If you want the simple answer, it’s pretty obvious: Just give them a personality, duh. It ain’t rocket science. Even if the MC is meant to be a self-insert or relatable to reader, just give them a personality and not make them blank with generic personality traits. Even if the character is so wildly different from how a person may act, most people do a thing called “roleplay”. In that story, they aren’t the “[Y/N]” from IRL but the “[Y/N]”, the baddass assassin (or something like that).

Now that’s the simple answer. For those who want a more in depth answer, read below the cut.

As stated before, the best way to write a an MC with a second person POV is to actually give them a personality. The only way you could actually pull off a blank MC is if you’re writing for a game. But games fall under a different set of rules. For now, we’re strictly talking about stories/books/ect. (basically a medium that doesn’t allow for the reader to directly influence).

Authors shouldn’t be try to achieve in making an MC that everyone can self insert in. It is an impossible endeavor and with blank MCs, you’re going to end up appealing to the lowest denominator. And when you think about it, it sounds like you’re a wishy-washy person if you try to make everyone happy by making such an MC (note: I’m not implying that authors who do blank MCs are wishy-washy, I’m just stating that it could come across in such a manner). You’re simply better off appealing to no one and concentrate on telling a good story. And to make a good story, you need to have solid characters. A blank MC isn’t a solid character.

Personally, I don’t think an author should worry too much of the audience being able to relate or “be” the MC. It’s really not that big of a deal. A majority of people are capable of doing a thing called “roleplaying”. You know, inserting themselves as the character and pretending to be that character. It’s easier to pretend to be a defined person than an empty puppet. In fact, authors should be more concern in making a good roleplaying experience and not “is this MC vague enough?” You may think having a blank MC helps the roleplaying experience, but it isn’t. Here are the reason why:

Blank MCs are typically stupid and make dumb decisions. If I was the reader, I would be wondering, “Is the author insinuating that I’m a stupid person?” There’s also the fact that people would get upset and go, “I would never do such a thing” hence making a disconnect.

Blank MCs are overly passive and inactive. Due to the fact that authors want to have the MC be everyone, the author can’t predict what everyone would do in a certain scenario. In the end, the “safest” option would be to do nothing. But then that leads to upset readers since practically everyone would at least do something instead of nothing.

Blank MCs usually only have two traits: nice and clumsy. That’s it. Those are the only two traits. Obviously this is a bland person and really, not everyone is that clumsy… or that naively nice. Some people can be given the illusion that they are this MC with just these factors, but with the combination of just the two, there can be a disconnect and people go, “What’s wrong with this person?”

As you can see, the main issue with blank MCs are the fact that there’s a disconnect. People aren’t puppets. If you simply give a person a body but give them permission to move it, then are you not making that person an unmoving puppet? You’re basically telling people they’re just a wall or a piece of furniture… not a person… especially a person that they know quite intimately: themselves. Having an MC with an actual personality that people can establish, people will have a better attitude. You might be surprised but people can relate to other who aren’t “themselves”. As long as a person can understand the other, then they can put themselves in the other person’s shoes. Instead of pushing “This MC is literally you” try pushing “This MC is you’re role, Mx. Actor”. Even if the character is so completely different from the reader, readers would just be happy if they can just insert their own name. To summarize the audience’s reaction would be this meme:

But if you’re really insistent for a blank MC, the only place that it could work would be video games or interactive fiction (visual novels, chose your own adventure, ect.). The reason why this option works so well with blank MCs is that the reader actually have a say in what the MC does… basically, the reader is filling in the blanks as they move in the story. At this point, the blank MC is given life. But the probably most of the time with this particular case is that author’s miss the point.

The biggest control freaks of out of all creators would be authors since most options are usually limited or would punish the player if they don’t act how the author wanted them to act. What’s the point in giving options if you’re just going to tell the reader that they think wrong? For example: a reader would get his negative points if they refuse to do something superficial with a love interest; like going out drinking or if they like muffins or not. Why do they get punished if they don’t like muffins??? Doesn’t make any sense.

The same go for options. Most of the time… the option sucks. It’s either be the “UwU” soft type, the unnecessarily bitchy one (for some reason), or the quite one who’s only dialogue options are “…”. But I guess that how people view others: either the Virgin Mary, Lilith, or a blow up doll. Fuck me, ay?

Just give more reasonable options and don’t punish players/readers over the smallest superficial details. Let a person like a brownie, god damn it.

Now that we establish the fact of: “Yes, authors should give an MC a personality even if they’re a self insert”, here’s some tips if you want to have a unique personality for your MC-

Don’t let the MC make stupid choices. Kinda obvious but, using the MC’s stupidity as a plot device is over done. I mentioned this before: There’s other sort of conflicts BESIDES the MC’s stupidity. Like MC vs. nature or MC vs. fate. Sometimes, even if you did your best, life doesn’t always work out perfectly.

Don’t make the MC an overly emotional mess that cries over the smallest thing. Similar to the stupid choices point, it’s an over done trope.

Let the MC be sensible and have common sense. If a door is locked, then it obviously needs a key. You don’t need the MC to go through a mental gymnastics to figure this simple shit.

Let your MC be morally grey. People aren’t black and white. Why do authors always try to make the MC an angel? There’s a thing in between you guys.

Let your MC be evil. While I personally would like more morally grey MCs, evil MCs are probably the next rarest type of MC. It’s good to have variety.

Try to let your MC be more of a T (Thinking) from the MBTI personality types instead of F (Feeling). Personality types that have a T in it are one of the more rarer types of protagonist in stories. They’re normally either the villains or side characters. Rarely the protagonist. It’s a bit more common to expect a T male MC while T female MCs are downright mythical. Probably because it’s womanly to be an F… oops.

Don’t make your MC be overly naive. Like seriously, why are all these MCs act like they lived under a rock for the past five years. “What is this… strange heartbeat when I’m next to my love interest? Must be a heart attack.” Biiiiitch. Not everyone is so emotionally stunted. And before anyone think that the T type of personality are like this… no, they aren’t. Just because they use their brain doesn’t mean they don’t understand how they feel. If anything, they’ll take these feeling and formulate a plan on how to successfully woo their partner… anyways, point is: Don’t make your MC an emotional virgin.

In yandere stories in particular, let your MC be the yandere’s equal… if possible, their superior. Actually, just give a unique character dynamic instead of “UwU, the yandere is overbearing and stronger than me.”

Anyways, I hope this was helpful to you anon!

Here’s a bonus picture of all the T type personalities that you could use for unique MCs:

(Bonus: I’m an INTJ while Julie is an INTP, in case anyone was wondering)

#Anonymous #anon #yandere #male yandere #female yandere #writing tip

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atc74 · 5 years

Text

Cabin in the Woods

Square Filled: Cabin in the woods

Warnings: Fluffy, fluff, sexy times, threesome, male receiving oral sex, unprotected sex, voyeurism, masturbation

Summary: Jared and Jensen take the reader on their secret vacation destination, but they still have one more surprise for her. She has a surprise for them too.

Pairing: J2 x Reader (established)

Word Count: 1632

Written for: @spngenrebingo

Thank you to @evansrogerskitten for taking a look at this, and making me smut better.

A/N: A while back, my friend @supernatural-jackles, told me she would love to see me write a J2 x Reader, but would never send a request. When I got my second card for this bingo, I knew exactly what I was going to write. Jen, your wish is my command. This is the fourth installment of the series:

To New Beginnings

As a reminder, this is a work of fiction and should be regarded as such. No harm is intended toward the actor(s) or their families.

“Will you stop trying to peek and just keep the damn blindfold on, please, Y/N?” Jared pleaded from the back seat. From his vantage point, he could see every fidget, tick and grimace she made.

“You both know I don’t like surprises, so why you felt the need to blindfold me is beyond me!” she yelled, turning first toward Jensen in the driver seat then back to Jared. She couldn’t see them, but knew where they were seated.

“We know, Darlin’, but we want this to be special for you. So please, be patient just a little bit longer,” Jensen reached over, clasping her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We’re almost there, I promise.”

She felt Jared’s hand press down reassuringly on her shoulder. She knew she wouldn’t stay mad at them, but for the time being, she was losing her patience. They wouldn’t tell her where they were going and then blindfolded her. This trip better be worth it, she thought.

Just like Jensen promised, it wasn’t very much longer and he pulled the vehicle to stop. She heard the back door open, assuming Jared exited the vehicle. “Y/N, just another two minutes. We’re going to take the bags in, then we’ll come for you, okay?”

“Two minutes, Jen. I’m counting. One, two...,” she tapped her watch. She heard him open the door and get out, shutting it behind him. She only made it to eighty-six before she heard a tap at the window and her door opened. “Nice timing.”

“Y/N, we get it, okay? No more surprises,” Jared said and took her hand, helping her from the car. “You ready?”

“What do you think, Jare?” Even though part of her face was obscured by the silken fabric, he could see she was not amused.

“Yeah, okay. I am going to take it off now,” Jared told her and reached behind her head.

Y/N felt a hand on the small of her back and knew Jensen was there too. “Yes, please!”

Bright light flooded her vision as she took in the sight before her. Jared on her right and Jensen behind her. It was beautiful. Much more beautiful than she remembered.

“Is this-?” she started, not believing what she saw. “Rufus’ cabin?”

“Yeah, it is, Baby. We talked to the owners and they were more than happy to give it up, feeling too old to take care of it anyway. So we bought it!” Jared announced as he held his arms out at his sides. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s wonderful,” she whispered. “Let’s go inside.” She reached for both of them and walked toward the front of the cabin, a smile on her face.

The inside of the cabin was nothing like she remembered. It really had looked like an old hunting cabin before. Musty furniture, drafty windows and a single room. What they stood in now was refinished, refurbished and beautiful.

Y/N walked to the other side of the cabin, the back overlooked the woods and a small stream. What used to be a single, weathered wall, was now one large bedroom with a king sized bed against one wall and a large television on the other. There was a moderately sized chest of drawers under the large screen and double doors that led out to a screened in porch with a sitting area.

“This is beautiful. How long did this take?” she looked around in wonder, before her gaze landed back on her boyfriends.

“Well, about six months total, I guess. We bought it about a year ago, but hadn't decided what we wanted to do. We’ve come up here a few times to unplug, do some fishing. But then we started thinking and planning. It wasn’t until you that we really got going and hired a contractor to finish it. We were saving it for winter hiatus, but when this break came along, it seemed like the perfect time,” Jensen informed her.

“There’s another bedroom too, down the hall. The back is all one new addition with a brand new bathroom, complete with a bubble tub!” Jared could hardly contain his excitement.

“A bubble tub?” Jensen scrunched up his face. “What are you, five? It’s called a jacuzzi!”

“I don’t care what it’s called, I want to use it!” Y/N took off down the hall, shredding her clothes as she went. It took a moment for Jared and Jensen’s minds to catch up, but once they did, the followed suit. Leaving a trail of clothes in their wake, they found Y/N sitting bare on the edge of the large bathtub, the water already running.

“You’re beautiful,” Jared whispered, his voice barely audible over the rush of water from the tap.

She smiled shyly up at them as they approached her. A blush crept over her skin as she admired them. They were truly beautiful specimens of the male form. Miles of golden skin covering toned muscle. Their legs were long and thick. Their arms were strong and safe, providing her comfort only they could. She held out her hands to them and they came to stand before her.

With want in her eyes, she took each of them in her hands, stroking them slowly to full hardness. She leaned over, placing kitten licks to the tips, tasting them, a moan falling from her lips as she took in the flavor of their essence. Her pace picked up and she wrapped her lips around Jared first, bobbing slowly up and down on his hard length. He loosely gripped her hand with one hand. Her spit aided her movement as she swirled her tongue around the tip, then licked down the underside, all the way to his sack and back up. Jared’s mouth fell open as he watched her take him, a wanton groan as she pleasured him with her mouth, her eyes locked on his.

Jensen was content to wait his turn, his eyes glued to her mouth as she took Jared’s cock as far as she could. Her eyes flicked up to Jensen and she smiled around Jared. She gave Jensen’s dick a squeeze as she continued to stroke him.

Jared pulled her off of his throbbing cock, gently pushing her toward Jensen’s waiting member. The tip was reddish purple, leaking with his desire for her. She gently kissed the head, her tongue darting from between her lips to taste him. Wrapping her lips around him, she slowly slid her mouth over him until he hit the back of her throat. Applying just enough suction, she pulled back until just the head was in her mouth, nestled on the tip her tongue. She repeated the motion, keeping her eyes locked on his.

Jared watched as he languidly jerked himself, his other hand toying with her nipples. Jared loved drawing all the sounds from her. The ones she saved for moments like this. The sounds that were only for Jensen and him. The sounds he memorized for later when he jacked off alone his trailer.

“Sugar, as exceptional as your mouth is, I can’t wait another second to be buried balls deep in that perfect, tight, wet pussy of yours,” Jensen drawled, his breath coming in pants from her attention.

Y/N pulled off of him slowly, drawing it out until he fell from her mouth, his dick hitting his thigh with a slap. She reached behind her turning off the water. Jensen pulled her to her feet, grabbing her ass with both hands lifting her to him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, his dripping cock trapped between his stomach and her sodden core.

“You’re so fucking wet for us already, Y/N,” Jensen mouthed at her neck. With one hand, he reached between them, lining himself up and pushing home. The moan falling from her open mouth was sinful and gave Jared all the motivation he needed. He stepped up behind her, gripping her hips tightly, as Jensen’s hands ran up and down her back.

“Oh fucking Christ, Jen, move!” she cried, sandwiched between them. Her left hand shot behind her, holding Jared’s hip as he ground his hard cock against her ass crack.

With the aid of Jared, Jensen began bouncing Y/N on his cock. Pressed up against each other, the friction on her clit was quickly pushing her over the edge. Jared’s hands let go of her hips, cupping and kneading her tits, twisting and pulling her nipples between his large fingers, while he ground against her from behind, his cock trapped between her cheeks.

“Unnnggh,” Jensen moaned out as her walls fluttered around him, reaching her high.

Jared slid his hand down between them, massaging her clit with sure, quick strokes and she exploded around Jensen. Her screams broke the otherwise quietness of the room.

Jensen continued pumping, circling his hips until he unloaded his hot seed into her belly. His eyes squeezed shut at the onslaught of ecstasy that washed over him as his head fell to her shoulder.

Jared dug his fingertips into her flesh as he too reached his own end, rope after rope of his cum shooting up her back and his chest as he stilled behind her.

Together, they lowered her to the edge of the bath and eased her into the water. They slid in beside her, the tub more than large enough for the three of them. They sat quietly, each of them coming down from the beautiful heights of pleasure they had brought one another, euphoric smiles plastered on their faces.

“This is some bathtub,” she murmured, content between her lovers. They agreed with tranquil hums.

“Welcome to our little cabin in the woods,” Jensen mumbled, his hand tight in hers.

Did you like it? Remember, the nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

The Whole Enchilada tags: @closetspngirl @emoryhemsworth @iwantthedean @meganwinchester1999 @sis-tafics @wilde-abandon @wegoddessofhell @holyfuckloueh @horsegirly99 @smoothdogsgirl @dolphincliffs @thisismysecrethappyplace @neeadinghugs @roxyspearing @theoriginalvicki @andkatiethings @mrswhozeewhatsis @linki-locks11 @evansrogerskitten @hennessy0274-blog @hobby27 @gh0stgurl @charliebradbury1104 @blacktithe7 @the--blackdahlia @fortisetgloriosusinarduis @roseblue373 @hannahindie @pinknerdpanda @cherrycokegirls1 @just-another-busy-fangirl

Jensen’s Jamboree: @supernatural-jackles @dean-winchesters-bacon @cameronbraswell @docharleythegeekqueen @maddiepants @squirrel-moose-winchester @amanda-teaches @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @adoptdontshoppets @akshi8278 @kathaswings @deansgirl215 @x-waywardaf-x @elara98azalea @jerkbitchidjitassbutt

Jared’s Menagerie: @supernatural-jackles @cameronbraswell @squirrel-moose-winchester @amanda-teaches @deansgirl215 @x-waywardaf-x

#spngenrebingo #jensen ackles #Jared Padalecki #j2 #j2 x reader #j2 x reader smut #jensen ackles smut #jared padalecki smut #j2 smut #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #supernatural rpf

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theheartofpenelope · 5 years

Text

SIMPLE THINGS - Chapter one

Here it is - chapter one. Enjoy gentleman!Tom. Feedback always appreciated. ;-)

Tag list: @winterisakiller, @devikafernando, @scorpionchild81, @messy-insomniac-bookgirl, @smutsausage, @hiddlesbitch1

Author’s Notes/Warnings: Not beta’d.

Also on AO3 through this link

Bonus: click here for the pinterest moodboard:

Chapter 1

London – day eleven continued

1. His presence was unexpected to her, yet not unwelcome. And while it warmed Charlotte’s heart to see a familiar face, her mind was thrown in a loop. Would she be allowed to define Tom Hiddleston as a ‘familiar face’? Granted, they had – very- pleasantly crossed paths a short while ago but afterwards they – naturally - went their separate ways. And that was no cause for concern; it was merely the way things were bound to evolve. You come together in a professional atmosphere; you meet each other’s acquaintance before your respective paths unsurprisingly part into two different directions. Such is life.

Yet, against all odds, 10 days or so later - there he was again. Leaning back in his seat, his one foot propped up on his other knee. Head slightly slanted and looking onto her with nothing but sympathy in his eyes, slightly amused even.

“Well hello,” he said with a kind and polite smile as he rose to his feet. “Hello, I erm,” Charlotte mirrored, not even bothering to hide the surprise in her voice, “I had no idea you would be here….”

“I apologize, I was late,” he paused and shook his head as he looked towards his feet suddenly, supressing a soft chuckle, “that’s a lie, I’m afraid.” “Is it?” she couldn’t help but smile at his sometimes-boyish charm. “I slipped in when the lights had already died…” “Craving privacy?” It was a sincere, albeit clichéd, question on her part. Though when she laid her eyes upon the talented actor once more, he only countered her query with a mysterious smile she could not quite place.

They walked up to one another to exchange a polite peck on the cheek when Tom absent-mindedly gently caressed her arm. A warm spark of familiarity hit her.

“Are you enjoying the play?” he kindly wondered, but Charlotte took more note of his skilful effort to steer the conversation into a different direction “Very much so,” she smiled, “I want to thank you again for arranging me a ticket.” “You’re very welcome,” he answered in honesty, “it was the least I could do for your professional assistance at ComiCon.” “I’m afraid I was just doing my job there,” she answered truthfully with an innocent shrug. “Was it still your job when you and your colleagues invited us the see the World-Cup Semi Final on the Big Screen at what’s his name’s house?” he rallied back in good fun, tempting her into that soft chuckle of hers again. “Thàt was not,” she confessed, “but I’m very pleased you all enjoyed that evening.” “We most certainly did,” a pause, “I know I did,” he couldn’t resist emphasizing that. “Even though your country lost to mine?” she teased. “Even though my country lost to yours,” he grinned in good humour.

Noting her fascination with the building, Tom kindly enlightened Charlotte on the history and architecture of the Globe Theatre. His enthusiasm was clear and enthralling to her,- and she found herself - very quickly - enjoying his company again. But that came as no surprise to her. When the lights flickered, announcing the end of intermission, they chuckled in unison at the realisation they had chatted through the interval without even setting one foot outside of the box.

His kind query on whether or not Charlotte would allow him to sit next by her side for the second part of the play, was easily answered. As he took a seat right next to her, he hesitated for a slight second, “Are you…. ” “Yes?” she urged. “I know you’re not a native speaker, and … this ìs Shakespeare,” he chuckled, “are you able to follow?” Charlotte playfully cocked her right brow, before reciting :

O, reason not the need! Our basest beggars Are in the poorest thing superfluous. Allow not nature more than nature need. Man’s life is cheap as beast’s.

A hearty laugh escaped his lips before her excused himself for even daring to think the opposite of her. Charlotte blushed as she credited her mother matter-of-factly. In his mind Tom was pleased to take note that she wasn’t just charming and kind, her intelligence might just give him a run for his money .

2. Through the second part both him and her were entranced within the world of King Lear. Only once was his attention brought back to her, when he noticed Charlotte discretely wiped a tear out of the corner of her eye. His gaze drooped down to the hand that lay in her lap and he wondered if he should – just momentarily - place his hand over hersor would she consider that inappropriate? He opted to do so anyway. The palm of his hand rested on the back of her hand, the tips of his long fingers softly caressing the soft cobalt-blue textile in the process. He had admired her and her dress the moment she’d walked over to him yet didn’t feel comfortable enough to compliment her on it. Tom was rewarded with her surprised smile and – he guessed - a hint of a blush. His thumb tenderly stroked the back of her hand, his fingertips curled along hers, gently drawing them in for a soft squeeze before both parties retreated.

All first dates should be held in a theatre, he mused, in surroundings that demanded soft touches and silent whispers. Where you were perfectly allowed, even expected to lean in close to show consideration to your date and, at the same time, were able to subtly take note of each other’s behaviour both consciously and subconsciously. The way she smells, the way she smiles, discovering what moves her and what shocks her, … but this wasn’t a first date now was it?

It was around the end of the play when Charlotte softly placed her hand on his arm. Tom gladly and curiously leant her his ear.

“Where’s Edmund?” she whispered. “Who?” “Edmund,” she emphasized, before adding with clear hesitation, “the son of the Count?” “That’s Edgar, love,” a soft smile crept across his lips, happy to be of assistance. “Oh,” was all that escaped her lips before she moved away in silence, but still in complete disarray. “He’s in disguise in this scene. The one they call Tom of Bedlam,” Tom leaned close as he subtly pointed towards the actor on stage, “there.” “Oooh yes,” she apologized, “sorry about that.” “That’s alright,” he whispered in her ear with a soft smile.

She smelled of jasmine, musk and a touch of vanilla.

3. When the applause had died down at the end of the play, after asking whether or not she had enjoyed the play, yet again, Charlotte had confessed to Tom that she, in fact, did lose track somewhere around the end. But her knowledge of the story was enough to guide her on. Somewhat. They shared an amused smile.

Charlotte followed his lead as Tom graciously guided her out into the hallway. She observed him exchanging pleasantries with plenty familiar faces that were unknown to her. Not that this would come as a surprise. Charlotte was the odd one out here, in this environment. She moved in different circles than Tom.

She felt herself fade into the background but was all the more flattered when she unexpectedly heard Tom whisper quietly into her ear if she - perhaps - wanted to go out for drinks. With him. Together.

Oh yes, gladly.

They had barely set foot outside when some fans had caught wind of his presence. A group of young women had laid eyes upon Tom, yet Charlotte’s presence seemed to have gone by unnoticed. For which she was thankful. Charlotte observed the group making their way towards their favourite actor - curious for his review of the play, secretly hoping for a selfie or an autograph, a handshake or perhaps a kiss on the cheek.

Tom withdrew his hand that rested on the small of her back and swiftly locked eyes with her. “I am sò sorry,” he apologized in advance.

“That’s alright, duty calls. I completely understand,” Charlotte shook her head, adamant to make clear she wouldn’t expect anything less from a public persona such as him to want to make some time for his admirers.

Truth be told, Charlotte had been quite surprised to run into this fine man again. Pleasantly surprised, let that be clear. But now that she was out of the comfort zone of the Theatre, where your interaction was per definition restricted to silence and maybe a stolen whisper here or there, she now became very aware of the fact that her mind was in turmoil as to how she ought to compose herself around him. So there she stood, right next to him, suddenly a bit tongue-tied, a bit apprehensive. It was a blessing and a curse at the same time.

How oddly conflicting, she thought. About 10 days ago she had thoroughly enjoyed his company. And as it became apparent back then, the feeling was mutual. They were both mature enough to quickly express to one another that ‘the incident’ that ensued later that night was a silly, yet quite pleasurable, occurrence. And though Charlotte couldn’t speak for him, shé had moved along just nicely … up until the point those blue eyes looked into hers again earlier this evening. And when Tom had thoughtfully placed his hand on hers earlier that night, something inside of her stirred. Little sparks of electricity.

My god, I’ve been one the road alone for too long, she’d cursed to herself.

“Thank you for a lovely evening,” Charlotte added swiftly as she was certain that he would surely take this opportunity to end his evening with her.

“No,” he stood corrected, much to her surprise, “don’t leave just yet.”

Tom continued with a quickly spoken whisper, “would you be willing to take a taxi and ask the driver to drop you off at ‘The last call’?” he paused, “I will find you.”

It sounded like a promise. Charlotte chuckled and rolled her eyes, questioning whether he was at all serious. Apparently he was. And he did find her at ‘the last call’, an establishment that looked like a plain brown pub but in fact disclosed quite a picturesque garden.

She opted to sit at the very end of the garden, far away from the door opening where waiters rushed to and fro as they waited on the clientele. It was also the perfect place to offer her an almost panoramic view over the terrace and allowing her to spot his silhouette promenading down to where she was.

He stood tall and elegant as he strolled down casually. It was as if in the last half hour a cloak had fallen from his shoulders and suddenly the Tom she’d gotten to know earlier that month emerged again. It immediately eased her mind.

And when Tom slid onto the chair right across hers, Charlotte could no longer hide her amusement.

“This is all very MI6, I must confess,” she shook her tilted head. Her eyes sparkled in good humour, triggering a chuckle from him.

“I know,” he gestured, “and I apologize once more. Thank you for obliging with me. It’s not really my style to order people around.”

He ordered an Old Fashioned and huddled over it when he confessed he truly was delighted to see her again. She smiled and returned the compliment.

It wasn’t a lie.

4. London had been groaning under a heat wave for days now. Even at night the temperatures didn’t really drop as long as one would. Like Tom, Charlotte craved for the crisp fresh air. Leaving ‘The Last Call’ they aimlessly wandered about in London, until stumbling across Hyde Park and the Kensington Gardens where a plethora of trees provided cool and fresh air.

Tom pulled the cap of his hoodie over his head tucking his gorgeous curls away. He flashed her a broad and hearty smile as he did just that. That smile melted her, time and time again. That hoodie however… She raised one eyebrow before shaking her head under a soft chuckle, “it’s probably about 21°C in the middle of the night. If I were you I’d be melting…”

“… so all of this because you took on a case that stirred up national interest?” Tom continued his questioning. He was curious, intrigued and interested.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips.

“I take it this is not what you wanted then?”

Charlotte vehemently shook her head, “not really no. The case, yes. The attention, no. I feel there is a sense of privacy and serenity that has to be respected in these situations. It shouldn’t matter who the requesting party is. At the end of the day we’re all flesh and blood, aren’t we?”

“Still, you did choose to step into the limelight…” He didn’t mean it in a harsh or hurtful way. It was a mere realisation

“True,” she paused, “but only because I felt I did not have a choice anymore. There was so much slander coming at me, I hàd to stand up and speak up. Do you know what I mean?” she frowned and shook her head, “of course you know what I mean…”

He nodded while his lips curved themselves into a small smile, “But apparently you struck a nerve with the public.”

“It would appear so…”

It still left Charlotte astounded how the public had reacted to her first public interview. There was still some defamation to her address, but suddenly the sensitive topic was out in the open and it got people talking. And not necessarily in a negative way. The public craved for information and suddenly Charlotte’s work and vision became a point of interest. Before she realised it she was invited at several international conferences to debate about end-of-life decisions and assistance and to share her experiences. It was mind-boggling, flattering and scary.

Her father was beyond proud. The partners at her firm were very positive and encouraged her to accept the invitations that were being extended to her, and to engage in the offers that were being made to her. Besides, it wasn’t as if she had a partner or family of her own that demanded her presence back home. In all fairness, after ‘separating’ from her husband the previous year Charlotte had easily slipped into her own little comfort zone. Any friend of her could (and would) vouch that Charlotte was outgoing and spontaneous, empathic and enthusiastic. But she had kept her heart locked. Much to the frustration of her closest friends. Maybe that was the final trigger that urged Charlotte to embraced this sudden unknown path that stretched before her with her arms open wide, but with quite some trepidation.

“And here you are,” Tom added quietly. It almost sounded redundant.

“Here I am,…”

Tom’s eyes met hers again. He nodded with a soft smile.

“I’m glad you are. Here.”

Charlotte smiled, feeling her apprehension rise at the sudden silence in the conversation.

Start talking.

Start talking. Now.

Any minute now.

“And I’m flattered beyond words for this opportunity really, it’s quite surreal. But it feels right. As if I’m doing something that matters, you know?” she nervously babbled on until she caught Tom, standing still next to her, smiling at her absent-mindedly.

“I’m sorry,” she shook her head with a smile, “we ought to talk about more pleasant things,”

“Don’t be. You’re passionate about your work. I like that.”

“What are you working on?” she insisted

“Nothing,” he answered truthfully.

“Sounds wonderful,” she couldn’t resist a good tease .

“It is though,” he chuckled, “there’s no one monopolising my schedule, so for once I have ‘the gift of time’, to catch up with family, friends. That was long overdue to be honest. Reading books, slowly going through some scripts,”

“Want to trade places with me for a day?”

He dropped his head back and lead out a hearty laugh.

Their conversation ran without effort, alternating small talk, an in-depth discussion, trivial jokes and random thoughts. Time seemed to fly by. One loop in the park was followed by another, and another, and another. Until…

“Well, this is my stop,” Charlotte pointed towards the hotel across the park, “I should head back. Get some sleep.”

“Right, you’re speaking at the Conference tomorrow. I think?”

Charlotte sighed, “don’t remind me…”

“You’ll be fine,” he assured her.

She nodded quietly, “I hope so.”

“Shall I walk you up?”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good plan, I know you like your privacy. I’ll just cross the street myself, leave you in the mystery of the park,”

She slanted her head, “so thank you for a wonderful evening. It was nice seeing you again.”

“Likewise, it was erm.. nice catching up with you. For lack of a better word.”

As Charlotte bid him farewell she felt unsure on how she should behave. She settled for a casual kiss on the cheek, which he kindly returned. His arms closed around to hold her in a tender hug, a gesture she gladly accepted. Her hand unconcernedly ran over his back in a reassuring caress. He smelled of some expensive citrusy cologne. His scent was dizzying, his embrace heart-warming that had Charlotte biting her lip out of remorse for not being able to keep him there longer.

Say good night, not goodbye.

“Good night Tom,” she murmured into his arms.

“Good night Charlotte,” he replied into her soft hair, the scent of her flowery shampoo sending his mind into a trip down memory lane. As he released her from his hug, he held on to her hand a little while longer, giving it a soft squeeze before wishing her a pleasant night as she made her leave

“Charlotte?”

“Yeah?” she spun around curiously.

“Good luck tomorrow…”

A warm smile, “thank you.”

A gust of wind swept up her long hair; she tucked the loose strands behind her ear before checking traffic. He watched her a little while longer as she made her way across the road towards her hotel and out of his life. Intelligent, grounded, feminine. He smiled. Never in a million years would he have guessed how bittersweet this very moment could make him feel.

Silly me, he cursed himself, I’ve been on the road for too long…

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x ofc #simple_things

21 notes · View notes

ariannjs · 5 years

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HAPPY | A SasuSaku Short FanFic (2/4)

For Day 4 (City Lights) of SasuSaku Month 2019 - @sasuxsakumonth

This fic was inspired by the Filipino celebrity pair/loveteam called “AlDub” (based from their screen names: Alden & Yaya Dub) or “MaiChard” (their real names: Maine Mendoza & Richard Faulkerson, Jr.). The plot and content have nothing to do with the said actors, but I based the idea for this fic from the themes of Maine’s two most controversial blog posts.

Rating: K+

Summary: The truth was loud and clear, that the combination of pink and green wasn’t meant to be with black and blue – both professionally and realistically.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto and AlDub.

Warning: Get some tissues.

Enjoy reading!

…or not.

---

(Happy - PART 1)

---

Life seemed to go on like the usual after Sakura’s recent blogpost, despite the pang in his chest.

Thankfully, they didn’t cross paths in the studio, in the management’s office, nor anywhere else. And he wanted to keep it that way.

Besides, how else could he extinguish the fire in his heart if he’s exposed to the one that ignites it?

But then, in a few weeks time, he would have to see her again. Although he could opt to make up excuses in attending the upcoming Konoha Star Awards, he just couldn’t figure out anything to say and he knew he shouldn’t lie to his manager who knew him so well.

He didn’t know what to do. As the said event was fast approaching, his internal turmoil kept on increasing.

For he wasn’t sure if he was ready to see Sakura again, clinging into the arms of her official boyfriend, and smiling ever so genuinely at him with a chemistry that is beyond a mere onscreen dimension.

He wasn’t prepared to face the new normalcy, wherein another man would be standing on what used to be his place for the past four consecutive years.

And he wasn’t looking forward to the ambush interviews that would come his way for they would be in the same venue for the first time since her announcement that she now has a boyfriend, one that was not him. Despite the curiosity of his fans as to who he would bring to the event, he didn’t even bother finding a date. He didn’t want another talk of the town to arise once he appeared at the red carpet with another woman holding his hand, for he was sure that being there on his own was already something the fans would ramble about in itself.

After all, there’s only one woman whose hand fit in his like a puzzle piece.

If her open letter was merely a hoax, and the arrangements to cut the ties between SasuSaku didn’t happen, he would surely be in front of her doorstep an hour before the event just like the past years, waiting for her to open the door and reveal her dazzling self in a gown that emphasizes her natural curves and enhances her beautiful face.

But no, he had to face the truth that it was already the endgame for SasuSaku, so that wouldn’t happen anymore.

He stared at the mirror while he fixed his black bow tie. This year, he didn’t need to worry about matching the color of his suit or tie with her dress. But it was only in pretense that he wasn’t bothered about it, for without preamble, her face entered his head once again.

“I’m ready, Sasu—!” There was a long pause as widened green eyes stared back at him by the doorframe. Sakura swallowed thickly, looked away, and then pouted in that adorable way that Sasuke remembered. “That’s so unfair!”

He raised an eyebrow in question.

“You can’t just come here looking so damn good and make me look like a little rotten peanut beside a humanized angel!” She crossed her arms, causing the off-the-shoulder lace top of her gown to slightly rise in disarray.

“You don’t have to use a lot of words just to say I look handsome, Sakura.” Sasuke grinned in amusement, reaching out to straighten the said part of her top against her shoulders just a tad below her shoulder blades. “Also, you’re not a little rotten peanut. You’re a flower. And flowers are blooming.” He then turned his back and smirked, slightly catching a glimpse of her reddened cheeks and widened eyes before he walked towards his car.

“I...uh…h-hey! You don’t have to use a lot of words just to say I look beautiful, Sasuke!”

He tipped his head over his shoulder and snorted when he saw her smirk right back at him, but with her cheeks still pink from the compliment. “Hn. Let’s go.”

Grabbing his navy blue suit jacket from his bed, he quickly brushed off the thought that there was already someone else complimenting how beautiful she was right now.

Sasuke stared at the folded card in his hands. When he received the digital invitation a month before, he was already informed that he would be one of the announcers of the award-winner for a certain category. He had conflicted feelings, however, when he learned through the card that the name he would be calling onstage was the one that he was actually trying to forget.

He was, yet again, proud of her. But he knew that this wasn’t something they could celebrate together anymore, making it difficult for him to move on. To think that she never even became his to begin with.

“Sasuke, I really don’t think I could give justice to my role as Leah,” Sakura admitted after a concept meeting with their director. “It’s just my second year as an actress but this is such a huge production and I don—”

“Tch. Everyone here believes in you, except you.”

“Everyone? You mean...you really think I could do a KSA-deserving performance for this role?”

Sasuke smirked. “I wouldn’t allow myself to be paired with someone who isn’t capable of doing just that, Sakura.”

His leading lady slowly grinned, eyes becoming glassy. And then in an instant, Sasuke was being engulfed in a bone-crushing hug that unexpectedly warmed his heart. “Thank you, Sasuke. I...I really...appreciate you. I wouldn’t be able to do this without you as my leading man...without you always believing in me.”

He sighed but returned the hug as tightly as he could, smiling against her hair in the process. “You know what? You’re annoying.”

She only giggled. “This annoying girl would win something in KSA soon though!”

And that was what indeed happened – she was nominated for three awards and won as Best Supporting Actress on her first time at the KSA’s, a year after their pair was officially established. Other than that, SasuSaku was awarded as that year’s Best New Loveteam.

This year, there wasn’t even any doubt anymore that the Best Lead Actress Award belonged to her. After all, he was with her in that movie – their last project together – that showed every bit of her acting prowess.

She worked so damn hard just to be the actress and the woman that she is now. For Sakura Haruno, there was no easy way out. Even if she had to go through a hole in a needle, she would willingly and passionately do so until she improves and reaches her dreams.

That’s one of the things he loved about her. And that’s what made him so proud of her as he journeyed with her in the industry for the past years.

Yet of all the other artists who could possibly announce for the category she was in, why did it have to be him?

He heaved a sigh at the realization that there was no turning back. As much as it pained him, he still had to face it. He still had to face her. Even after successfully avoiding seeing her since the red carpet entrance hours ago.

Stepping on the stage after his cue, Sasuke scanned his card again and delivered the exact script written there with ease despite the galloping sensation in his chest, “As flowers bloom, artists excel in their craft as well and all of our nominees have exemplified such. Now, Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner for this year’s Best Lead Actress Award is...Miss Sakura Haruno.”

Thunderous applause filled the huge auditorium as a tinge of maroon caught his eye from the other end of the stage. His lips were on a thin line, but he was mindful enough to show a small smile before turning to glance at the awardee in front of everyone in the room, the result of years of acting manifesting for all to see.

And then there she was, approaching him ever so gracefully, clad in a maroon gown with a halter top and long train studded with tiny diamonds that made everything else in the venue nothing but dull. Her face was more blooming since the last time he had seen her. And it was accentuated by her now long pink tresses tied on the side with its ends loosely curled.

He was at a loss for words. For the first thing he wanted to do after meeting her gaze was to kiss her right then and there.

She was so, so beautiful. But, she wasn’t his.

“Congratulations,” was the only thing that came out of his lips once she reached him with a huge beam on her face and leaned for a usual announcer-awardee onstage hug.

He wondered if she felt how awkward that was too. But when she murmured “Thanks, Sasuke. I miss you…,” he knew he had to hand her plaque as quickly as he could and exit the stage without meeting her eyes again.

When he reached the backstage, his chest was heavily rising and falling as he tried to calm himself. It’s been three months, Sasuke! Three months since she announced that she’s now happy with someone else!

If only she knew how much he has missed her too. If only she knew how much he wanted to tighten that casual hug while twirling her around and whispering in her hear that he was so proud of her.

If only...if only she was his.

It wasn’t too long until Sakura appeared at the backstage too, happy tears glistening on her cheeks before her gaze landed on Sasuke who was casually leaning against a wall with an unreadable expression on his face and clenched fists hidden in his pockets.

The leading man didn’t even hear anything from her acceptance speech, but he was sure that it reflected her happiness not only about her award but also about pretty much everything else in her life right now.

That fact made his heart constrict again.

He tensed when he looked up and met her eyes, mentally scolding himself for not returning to his seat immediately after his announcement. But it was too late now.

While smiling with that dashing smile of hers, Sakura walked up to him, not even having the slightest idea that he was trying so hard to forget about his feelings for her in the past few months. “Hello, Sas—”

“Sasuke! Sakura!”

Their heads instantly turned towards the direction of the voice, making Sasuke thank the Heavens for having such perfect timing. For heading their way was the organizer of this year’s Konoha Star Awards. Saved by the bell.

“Hi, Shizune-san.” Sakura was quick to greet the running woman.

“I’m sorry this is all too sudden. But we’ve just been notified that Naruto and Hinata wouldn’t be able to come in time for their part in the program.” Shizune panted in front of them while grasping the clipboard in her arm. “Their flight from Kiri after their movie premiere was delayed. So we realized, who else could announce the winner for this year’s Best New Loveteam other than the ones who bagged the same award a few years back?” She smiled, albeit apologetically. Besides, she had no other choice. “Here’s their script. There’s just a few more categories left before this one. It’s really short and I know you’re so used to this so I really hope it’s okay.”

So much for being saved by the bell. There was a short pause as Sasuke processed the situation. He knew it was just a part of their job. But he was also aware of how awkward it would be to stand with the woman he’s in love with onstage while doing something that they used to do so well together, before things had changed.

Sasuke observed how Sakura’s smile seemed to falter a bit at the sight of the script. There was that slow movement in her hand as she reached for the small card but before she even accomplished it, he cleared his throat and spoke, “Wouldn’t this cause an unnecessary issue?”

Sakura whipped her head towards him, hand retreating in surprise.

“Oh.” Shizune continued to smile. “I get what you mean. I don’t think it would.”

“Us being on the same stage again after a long time already stirred a reaction from the crowd moments ago.”

“Don’t worry, Sasuke, it’s just a short announcement. I believe a small SasuSaku reunion wouldn’t go against the new arrangements you both have.”

“But Sakura’s boyfriend is in the audie—”

“Sasuke, it’s okay.”

While his eyes travelled to the person who uttered those words, he felt a sudden warm sensation due to a mere touch on his forearm. It was as if his skin has been frozen for such a long time that the unexpected contact caused it to have a meltdown, only to be left freezing again once she retracted her hand and grabbed the script in front of them.

Was she really agreeing to this?

“It’ll be fine.” His former leading lady smiled at him, and he almost internally screamed about how he wanted so bad to be the reason behind her smiles all the damn time. She chortled then. “Besides, I’m your best partner in crime, Sasuke. Don’t you want to be with me for another time?”

No. He wanted to answer. I want you to be with me for a lifetime, Sakura. Not as my partner in crime but as my partner in life. He looked away, and then his gaze fell on the other script still extended right in front of him.

Soon enough, he curtly nodded in resignation, reminding himself that this was merely a part of his job. “If there would be no complications then.”

“Thank you so much, you two! I know you’ll both do well! I’ll prompt you once you’re up next.”

Sakura beamed yet again as Sasuke finally accepted the other small card. He wasn’t sure if she was really into this or it’s just her innate always-ready-to-help self manifesting.

“Wow. The last time we did this was–I think...what?–more than a year ago? Makes me excited to host with you again, Sasuke! Do you want to have a quick runthrough of the script?”

“I need to go to the restroom. Excuse me.”

Sasuke heard her giggle as he began to walk away. “Alright. I see you still prefer rehearsing your script alone.”

He wished it was just as easy as that to walk away from his feelings too.

The restroom was fortunately empty when he entered. Heaving a loud exhale, he firmly placed both hands on the countertop and faced his own reflection in the mirror. Looking at it closely, there were dark circles under his eyes that he didn’t notice before. It only proved the fact that he has been denying to himself: he had been dreading the arrival of this day way too much. And now that everything that he wanted to avoid has happened in a span of a few minutes, he didn’t know what else to do.

He wanted to be as professional as he could be, but as much as he wanted to focus, all that dominated his brain after seeing Sakura in that damn maroon gown was her. Just her. But his thoughts about her weren’t ones that were filled with wonderful memories and favorable possibilities.

Every time he met her gaze, it reminded him that those eyes were now looking fondly at someone else not because of a script, but because of a real deal love.

Every time he saw her smile, his heart constricted knowing that another man was already the main cause of that.

And every time he focused on her lips, he couldn’t stop himself from imagining how those same soft lips he used to kiss could lock with someone else’s not because she had to, but because she wants to.

He shook his head and snorted at his reflection, unconscious of the fact that his hands were now clenched into fists, leaving creases on the card he barely remembered he was holding.

How did I end up like this? We are just actors, right? Nothing more than that.

His brain pointed out the fact that whatever they did together was just a part of their job, oftentimes coming from a script and instructed by a director.

No one told him to feel something deeper than a professional connection for his leading lady.

But he was the loser who fell for the woman he was paired with onscreen. The loser who didn’t know how to stand on the thin line dividing work and personal life. The loser that Sakura didn’t choose for whatever reason that only she knows.

This time though, he had to be solely professional in dealing with her despite his hurting heart. For no matter how dragging the night was, it would still eventually end.

And she still wouldn’t be his.

Sasuke absently scanned the small card given to him as he returned to the backstage. The glam team was giving Sakura a touch up so he thankfully didn’t have to communicate with her. But the moment she glanced his way, he mentally repeated the words “Be professional. Short announcement. Quick exit.” as if a mantra that would let him survive the rest of the night.

She was staring, he realized. But it wasn’t the kind of stare that made his heart skip a beat. It felt like a stare of someone that you only used to know. “You still look like a humanized angel.”

There was a momentary widening of his eyes at the realization that she remembered that scenario which also resurfaced in his mind before tonight’s event. He had to avert his gaze.

And you still look like a blooming flower, he wanted to say. One that isn’t mine. But he settled with merely nodding in thanks, until they heard Shizune’s cue to standby.

The hardest part came, wherein as a natural gentleman – and a “professional”, he reminded himself (though the other part of himself noted that it was simply out of habit specifically with her) – he had to offer his arm for Sakura’s hand to curl around it. There was that feeling of being melted in place again, but he only heaved a sigh and nonchalantly led them to the stage.

As expected, the responses of the audience were more intense than those they’ve given to any other artist who have stepped onstage throughout the entire program. It was the first time that Sakura and Sasuke would be doing something together – as SasuSaku – after nine long months. And even just a short hosting segment was already enough to somehow quench the thirst of their longtime fans.

Flashing cameras and raised phones were visible here and there. Sasuke was aware enough that even their slightest movement could be watched and interpreted in the wrong way, which could eventually cause another unnecessary worldwide trend on social media. If this happened months ago, he would’ve said that he was already used to such commotion; in fact, he would’ve thought that it was good for their marketing. But not anymore. Not now that SasuSaku was merely a chain from a failed past.

Still, as prim as he usually was, he flashed a rehearsed smile to the audience. Be professional. Short announcement. Quick exit.

Sakura, on the other hand, was grinning from ear to ear, her grip on Sasuke’s arm slightly tightening. Sasuke knew it was the sentimental part of her taking over. But again SasuSaku was over now and he couldn’t expect her to suddenly approach their manager and breach the contract they’ve signed a few months back, just so she could be with him again.

He cleared his throat and leaned closer to the mic in front of him, relaying the exact script Naruto was supposed to deliver. “Good evening. It is our privilege to announce tonight the best pick among the newest pairs that captured your hearts since their appearance on national television this past year.”

Then Sakura’s melodic voice filled the venue. “A few years back, we were overjoyed to be heralded with the same title. And personally, being on that journey with Sasuke was one of the best things that ever happened in my life. I couldn’t wait to see how this next loveteam will not only touch the fans’ hearts but also each other’s! Right, Sasuke?”

That wasn’t even a part of Hinata’s original script. Each other’s, huh? If he was able to touch her heart, then why did she allow someone else to claim it fully?

He refrained from clenching his jaw as he saw how his partner was now glancing at him. “Aa.”

But then, he forgot how Sakura was so good at improvising spiels live that he almost felt like snapping right in front of the hundreds of fans and celebrities in the venue.

“Now to add a little suspense, before we reveal to them the winner for this year’s Best New Loveteam, why don’t we share a few stuff about our time as SasuSaku? Do you want that, guys?” Sakura giggled as the audience cheered with such exuberant voices. “Alright! So Sasuke, what is the best thing about being in SasuSaku? For me, it’s getting to meet lots of people who believe in me and what I can do. How about you?”

A pregnant silence consumed them as Sasuke found himself staring at Sakura’s green orbs. He didn’t know how long it took him before he finally answered, but when he did, there was a slight widening of Sakura’s eyes for he said, “Meeting you.”

It was too late when he realized what he had uttered over the mic for another uproar was given by the crowd. Then he felt the absence of the hand that was clutching his arm moments ago. Damn it, Sasuke! Be professional! Short announcement! Quick exit!

“Now off to the big reveal,” he quickly called the people’s attention without waiting for any reaction from his partner. “Everyone, we present to you, this year’s Best New Loveteam is…”

They both leaned closer to the mic and declared, “NejiTen!”

Everything else happened quickly as they congratulated the awardees and then returned backstage. Again, out of habit, he offered his hand to Sakura to assist her down the stairs, but instantly let go of her hand once she reached the last step.

He mentally prayed he’d be able to let go of her that quickly too.

Then just when he thought that he’s already okay now knowing that the only thing left for him to do was to have a quick exit back to his chair, his eyes suddenly caught sight of Sasori mouthing congratulations as Sakura reached their designated seats, before kissing him right then and there on her soft lips.

Sasuke shifted his direction and went straight to his car.

From: Naruto Uzumaki

Oi, Teme! We’re finally in the area! Don’t you dare ditch the Konoha Star Awards After-party! I have an announcement to make and I need a boost so my best friend should be there! See ya! ;)

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(Happy - PART 3)

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Here’s the second part of “Happy”! Any thoughts and feelings about this part? :D

Check out my other works here! It you like what I do, kindly consider supporting me on ko-fi or patreon. I’m also saving up for a special post-birthday trip this November so your support would mean a lot to me!♥️

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June 2019 | AriannJS

#SasuSaku #SSM19 #SSM19D4 #SasuSaku Angst #Happy Part 2 #ariannjfics

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bethygauw · 6 years

Text

[1/2] Online B’s-Log Interview with Satoru Kuwabara

Update: - (2 Sep 2020) Correction “ When we started making the unit songs, we didn’t make hip hop songs, afraid that the female players may stab us” --> “When we started making the unit songs, we didn’t make hip hop songs, afraid that it wouldn’t resonate with the female players”

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Released 4 June 2018

Original source Part 1 The original article has pictures that complement well so please check it out too.

B’s-Log started a new project, “Creator Touch”, an interview series with creators of popular series. The first person they interviewed was Satoru Kuwabara, the music producer of Ensemble Stars!.

In this first half of the interview, they asked about how Kuwabara started to get involved with Enstars unit songs. Kuwabara also talked about the points he focused on in the song series that have been released so far. (~2.8k words)

In the second half, they talked about song numbers that left the biggest impression on Kuwabara, the 3D live concert, the voice actor live concert and Enstage. (~2.2k words)

Some of the info has already been published somewhere before, so this may be a repetition to some. But otherwise, it can be a refresher as well. Enjoy!

Q: Kuwabara-san, you’re also Arte Refact’s representative. Could you tell us what your job entails?

K: As part of Arte Refact, my work revolves around anime and game music. It doesn’t mean that I’m not working with other genres at all, but Arte Refact is basically a company where people who love anime and games gather around. So we want to surround ourselves in that world and conform to it as much as we can.

Q: Could you tell us what started your involvement in Enstars unit songs?

K: Before the game release, a person I was indebted to gave me a tip, “There’s this game that’s coming up,” he said, and showed me the proposal and illustrations. I had a look at it and thought, “I really want to do this!” If I remember it correctly, it was around about the start of the preregistration period, so the only information I had in hand was that it had the high school idol theme and idol units. It also had a simple description of each character and a main theme song. I was sure that they would already have songs for the units prepared as well, so when I was given the chance to introduce myself to Happy Elements, I made some unit songs while expecting to be shot down. There were 8 announced units, so I visualized and prepared 2 songs for each unit and went to present.

Q: This was before the game even started… So you made these songs with so little information to go on with.

K: The unit that I misunderstood the most was fine. It’s pronounced like “fee-nay”, which is different from the English pronunciation of “fain”, right? I ended up making a song with lots of the “fain” version in the lyrics (laugh). Other than that, I thought the “bits” in Ra*bits referred to, say, 1bit, so I thought that maybe their songs have lots of pinging sounds like those in a game. Turns out I was completely wrong for both (laugh). On the contrary, Trickstar, UNDEAD, and Ryuseitai were easy to figure out and I remember that it was a smooth process.

Q: Among the songs that you presented, were there any that actually got released as unit songs?

K: I think it would be Knights’ Checkmate Knights and Ryuseitai’s The Unrivaled☆Meteoranger!. Although we remade those after receiving the units’ proper background setting.

Q: You have been playing the actual game. Can you tell us your first impression or what it is about the game that attracted you?

K: My true first impression would be during the pre-release, but I thought that their illustrations were nice, generally speaking. In general, the art in a female-oriented series has that touch that doesn’t sit too well with guys. But Enstars feels like anime and its head count for the character design is actually pretty close to that of a real person and without being deformed in any weird way. So it’s also easy for guys to accept. When I first saw the illustration, it gave me a gush of inspiration and I could keep churning out songs. But after the game got released and I started playing, my impression shifted to, “It’s this dark?” (laugh) If I had to choose, male-oriented series have a fundamentally happy atmosphere and not many would delve into the characters’ upbringing or pasts. Even if they do, they only do it lightly or they would only touch on some characters with a considerably rough past… just like that. But pretty much all Enstars characters have something that they’re worried about, right? That’s what makes female-oriented and male-oriented series different, and what I think makes Enstars attractive.

I think of them as idols and create.

Q: Can you tell us specifically how you make these songs?

K: All units have already had a few songs released by now, so I would start from thinking about what kind of songs a particular unit would need next, while also taking their previous songs into account. I have the image within my mind that these characters are alive. My way of thinking will also change depending on the unit and the CD’s month of release. Take Ryuseitai’s album as an example (released on 7 March 2018). It was released around the “Repayment Festival”, so it had a White Day theme. If there are songs made based on established event stories, there are also those made simply because we wanted to make this kind of songs—the origin may vary. But if I know a lyricist who fits the image of a particular song, the first thing I’ll do is to place an order with that said lyricist.

Q: How do these lyrics come about?

K: Our main lyricists are Youhei Matsui-san and Saori Kodama-san. Enstars had its 3rd anniversary and at this point, a lot of content has been fleshed out. We want someone who understands the story and won’t cause discrepancies in the lyrics, so in the end it’s difficult to ask someone who isn’t used to the series. If I do ask someone other than those two, it’s often the case that I think their usual writing style fits a particular unit.

Q: An example would be how Arika Takarano-san from ALI PROJECT worked on Valkyrie’s Bewitching Theater.

K: Exactly. I asked Takarano-san beforehand that we may cause her a lot of trouble and may ask her to retake so many times and if she was alright with that, but she still said that she was going to do it. And in actuality, it was accepted without any revision so it was really cool!

Q: I believe there would be a lot of fans out there who would listen to one song and think, “This is the feel that this unit has, huh!” and then would get surprised by the approach of another song. But it was actually just the perfect balance. How do the artists begin their work on the songs and the lyrics?

K: It goes without saying, but Matsui-san and Kodama-san play the game as well. There are times when they come up with a selection of scenes because they want to write about those parts. The lyricists rely heavily on the script, but on the other hand the composers have told me that they make progress when they are given visuals. It’s really easy to understand when you look at an illustration, "so this is going to be a song where this character sings with this kind of expression, huh.” I’ve heard that the event CGs are their most helpful reference.

Q: Rather than a 2-dimensional character, they imagine that it’s a real singing idol as they make the songs.

K: That’s what I do—I think of them as idols who really exist as I make the songs. I don’t even think of them as game characters anymore. I’d say things like, “Hey check this out, this kind of song is nice, don’t you think? What? The pitch is too high for you? Nah, I know you can do it. You can, can’t you?” (laugh)

The 3rd season’s theme is “Love”!

Q: So far, the series has released 3 seasons of CD singles and right now the album series is ongoing, with one album being released after another. Could you tell us their concepts and any fixation you had on each series? To start with, how was the first season?

K: The first season was something that we made with zero-based budgeting, so in that sense, it was probably where I participated like a music producer the most*. In the first season I was being rather pushy about my opinion on how this particular song would definitely suit this or that unit. It was also because Happy Elements was not used to music production, so if I was hesitating, they would too. I thought that it would be better to give out a clear-cut proposal, so I told myself to express my opinion properly while also offering some options.

*[T/L note] I wasn’t sure if this would make sense to the readers since I still translated it quite literally, but basically since the unit song series just started out they didn’t have much luxury to call out to other composers/lyricists like they do now, so they had to use the limited resources (and human resources) to the best they could. Please note that this is my interpretation since the whole original sentence looked pretty vague to me.

Q: I feel that the first season is filled with many songs that exude each unit’s character and public image.

K: Personally that’s my intention. That being said, to be honest we started making the songs when the game was not even out yet. We didn’t know how far we could experiment with these songs. We also didn’t know if there was going to be season 2. So, of course we wanted to make more, but if there was no second season, we decided to make songs that would make these units complete. We wanted these songs to be popular too, so we made a lot of up-tempo songs that have a good beat. But I also wanted to make some ballads, so I included Checkmate Knights for Knights and Love Letter of the Brilliance of Cherry Blossoms for Akatsuki.

Q: Now, onto the second season. Some units have songs with a different taste compared to those from the first season. Did you intend to show another side to them that you couldn’t in the first season?

K: Let’s see. Now that the fans are aware of these unit songs, we started the second season by creating songs meant to be something original and asking artists we would like to place an order with. I had the impression that my job was to materialize the unit image that Happy Elements had in mind. If they had artists whom they would like to work with, I’d go around making offers, become the middleman, and suggest to brush up some parts of a song as we record the music. That was the kind of job I did. But among that, I think I let myself loose quite a bit when making songs for Valkyrie and Switch, who joined from the second season.

Q: How about the third season?

K: After observing the audience reception until the second season and receiving fans’ responses, we made songs “that are needed” and “that it should be like this!” on top of putting the unit members into consideration. The hidden theme of the third season is “Love”. Basically, there’s “Love” on the A-side. It can be love for their fans, or for their friends—it varies. Even though the word “Love” itself is not used in the songs, they still have “Love” as their theme.

Q: This makes me want to listen to them once again to find some “Love”…! Then, what about the album series that are ongoing right now?

K: The theme for these albums are “Presents”. It’s a thanks to the fans of course, but it’s also a thanks to their supportive friends. I want to make something that everyone can enjoy, so basically there are a lot of songs with lyrics that are filled with gratitude. It also has something akin to the third season’s “Love”, but that’s what idols are! I think fans would be happier to receive love that’s almost excessive (laugh).

Q: The albums also include the idols’ solo songs.

K: To many of the voice actors in the first season, it was their first time recording a song, so we talked a lot before we began to record. There were 8 units at that time and I was talking with this kind of feeling, “I want to make something that can get each of the unit up on the Budokan stage for 8 days and on the last day I want to see everyone perform at Tokyo Dome together. So let’s make lots and lots of songs!” The voice actors were really happy about that and they sang for us. So to me it felt like it’s the long-awaited solo songs.

Q: Especially with these solo songs, I can feel that you understand a fan’s mentality and the characters really well!

K: It’s because I love everyone (laugh). I also think of them as real people while creating. I think I do as I please during the recording, like suggesting that we should change the lyrics because I don’t think he will say this kind of thing for example (laugh). I also dare to play around with the song and rip things apart. Although I would also record a few versions and present it to Happy Elements to see which they would prefer, like, “(I think this one here is better but) what do you think?” (laugh) Also, I wouldn’t change the rough outline of the songs I receive, but I often discuss with the composer to tweak the melody line or adjust the key to match with the character.

The teachers’ songs are Mr. Kuwabara’s long awaited production!

Q: Apart from songs by the students of Yumenosaki Academy, you have also released songs by the teachers and the rival unit, Eden. How did the teachers’ CD come about?

K: I had always wanted to make songs for the teachers! Even when I first introduced myself to Happy Elements, I asked them if the teachers would sing as well, and then they replied “I suppose not.” (laughed) I asked them the same thing a few times after that as well, and finally around about the 2nd anniversary of the game’s release they finally said, “We’d like to make songs for the teachers,” and I replied, “I’ve been waiting to hear those words!” (laugh) That’s how it started. I personally like Jin Sagami a lot and in the game I just keep entering the nurse’s office “by mistake” (laugh). My wish of making the teachers’ songs came true just before the third season. In Akira-san’s mind, apparently they’re idols who dance with roller skates.*

*[T/L note] A reference to an older generation idol, Hikaru Genji, who performed with roller skates in the 80s. [YouTube]

Q: It felt like we had moved back a generation or two…

K: Yes, I also stopped myself and thought that the teachers were probably around 30 years old (laugh). I chose the direction that would lean towards that age group as best as I could.

Q: The CD jacket and design labels made a big impact.

K: This is, well, a total grownups’ practical joke (laugh). Someone suggested to make it an 8cm CD, but going that far would be difficult after all.

Q: I also felt that the sound quality felt close to that of the CDs released some years ago.

K: True, we added a bit more echo than usual to get close to the era we were aiming for. But the art and craft of audio recording continues to evolve from day to day, so without dropping the sound quality down too much, we chose to focus on bringing out the intended atmosphere and made it into a 12cm CD to match with the current age. Likewise with the acoustic pressure—if we dropped it down too much, it would also not be a good thing to suddenly hear a drop like that in quality if the listeners chose to add the songs into a playlist.

Q: On the other hand, Eden’s CD also ended up with a different taste than that of Yumenosaki Academy’s units’.

K: Eden’s setting is that they’re a rival unit that stands up before Yumenosaki Academy’s representative, Trickstar, and block their way. So Eden’s song has to surpass Yumenosaki Academy’s unit songs like Trickstar, fine, and Akatsuki. We’ve always been serious about making these unit songs, so the moment I was told that, I didn’t know what to do (laugh). And then, I asked them to lift the ban on rap songs. In the end the song wasn’t a pure rap, but up until now I had been asked to avoid rap as much as I can.

Q: Is that Happy Elements’ request?

K: Yes. When we started making the unit songs, we didn’t make hip hop songs, afraid that it wouldn’t resonate with the female players… But various series have made a hit with the genre and maybe it’s now recognized, so I went to discuss about lifting the ban. I asked them like this, “When they fuse into Eden, please let me give them rap”.

Q: With a hip hop-like element included, it became a unit song that had a different orientation from Yumenosaki Academy idols.

K: Right. I think they managed to exude out a different kind of mature feel. Their CD booklet is amazing too, don’t you think? It used special paper, special printing, unusual cutting… (laugh)

Q: Was the packaging your idea too, Kuwabara-san?

K: No, it was Happy Elements’. They wanted to make it that way. Each piece’s lumber quality was just so extravagant. The third season had clear sheets as well, but Eden’s CD booklet was really a surprise (laugh).

Continued to the last half of the interview: song numbers that leave the biggest impression, 3D live concert, voice actor live concert and Enstage.

#ensemble stars #staff #satoru kuwabara #B's-log

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maevefiction · 6 years

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Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 8

I managed to wake up on time, despite the fact that I’d forgotten, yet again, to set my alarm. After putting on my glasses, I padded over to the dresser to grab my phone. I checked my notifications as I crawled back under the covers and saw there were four texts waiting for me, three of them from Tom sent late last night.

Meeting’s finito. They dragged us out for drinks. It’s 3:00 AM. I want to see you. – T

Mean Nanny Luke says it’s too late and he hid your room key from me. Asshole. – T

We meeting again with Skull people again at 11 morning tomorrow. 3:17. Bed. Night. – T

I figured he’d still be out cold and I was overwhelmed by the urge to ring his phone and rouse him unpleasantly, solely for my own amusement. I resisted, telling myself that he surely would have turned it off prior to retiring for the night. So tempting, but I decided to take the high road instead.

Good morning, Thomas. Hope you and Luke managed to get some rest and that the meeting goes well. Looking forward to seeing you both later. – M

The fourth was from Anne, sent fifteen minutes ago.

Hey kiddo, I’d love it if you’d give me a call. It’s been entirely too long since we last talked. – A

While it wasn’t a complete surprise to hear from her, given Luke had spoken with her yesterday, I honestly hadn’t expected it to happen so damn soon. Inhaling deeply through my nose, I closed my eyes for a few moments, exhaled and decided to postpone dealing with it and order breakfast instead.

My stomach grumbled as I reviewed the room service menu, my index finger tapping my lips. I grabbed the in-room phone and dialed, and my call was answered on the first ring by an obnoxiously pleasant-sounding woman.

“Good morning, Ms. Gallagher. What can we get for you today?”

Funny, they hadn’t a clue who I was when I’d ordered in over the weekend. I guess Tom Hiddleston answering your door when a meal for two was delivered elevated one’s social status.

“Good morning to you as well. May I please have an order of Belgian waffles with bacon, a large orange juice and a cup of tea? Earl Grey if you have it, sugar and cream on the side. Thanks!”

There was dead air for a few seconds. “Will that be all?” I rolled my eyes. Subtle, lady, really subtle. Sorry to disappoint, but he’s not here at the moment.

“Yep, that’s if for now, thank you.”

“Your meal should arrive in approximately twenty minutes. Aloha!”

I re-read Anne’s text and sighed, running a hand through my hair. If I called her now I could use the arrival of my meal as an excuse to get off the phone, though twenty minutes could seem like an eternity if the conversation turned to a topic I didn’t care to discuss, which it always seemed to do.

“Come on, Maude. Like a Band-Aid, right off. Pee first, then call. That should waste at least two minutes, more if you walk really slow.”

After the bathroom, I sank down into the oversized wing-back chair, phone in hand. My heart began to pound as I located her in my contacts, under ‘L’ for Lestat because it amused me to no end when ‘Lestat calling…’ came up on my screen. Anne had been a part of my life since I was ten years old. In 1988, only a few months after my parents had moved into the neighborhood, she’d returned to the Garden District of New Orleans. After rejoining the Catholic Church she met my father, a devout Irish Catholic himself, and they became fast friends.

She’d been a friend to me as well, offering unwavering support and becoming my lifeline during some incredibly difficult times. One of the hardest decisions I’d ever had to make was distancing myself from her emotionally in order to force myself to move on as I tried to heal. Though it had been a necessity, I still felt terrible about it, and I deeply missed having her to turn to for comfort.

My hands clenched and grew clammy as the pounding of my heart morphed into a dull, throbbing pain. I silently vowed to cut her off immediately if our chat veered into the past and hit the ‘call’ button.

“Maudie, honey! You took the job!” I wondered how the fuck she knew that already, then remembered she followed my twitter account and must have read the letter I linked to last night.

“Yes, Anne. I took the job. Though I wasn’t looking for one. And thanks for your glowing recommendation. Which established preconceived expectations that I will never be able to fulfill, by the way.”

“You will not only fulfill them, you will exceed them. Never underestimate your abilities, Maudie. You know better. So who is this Luke fellow? Is he as handsome as he sounds?”

I tipped my head back and stared at the ceiling, trying to prepare myself for the onslaught of Matchmaking for Maude that was about to ensue. “He is indeed.”

I could picture the sly grin that had surely spread across her face. “So? Is he single?”

“No, Anne. He’s actually engaged.”

“Well, you’re very attractive and, you know, anything can happen…”

“And he’s gay.” I thought that would do the trick. It didn’t.

“You have to introduce him to Christopher.” At least I wasn’t the only victim of her matchmaking…she’d been trying to find Mr. Right for her son as well as me forever.

“I haven’t met his fiancé but I hear they’re deliriously happy. So what’s new with you? How’s my next Lestat installment coming along?”

“I’m still researching some things, but the initial draft is essentially complete. You know, I Googled up Prosper PR and went to the facebook page and that amazingly talented actor, what’s his name…right, Tom Hiddleston, is one of his clients. I would love for him to take on the role of Lestat when the reboot of the Vampire Chronicles gets underway. Will you be working with him? Plant that seed for me, will you? Hmm, maybe he’s single?”

The thought of Tom as Lestat de Lioncourt rendered me mute for a solid thirty seconds, followed by lord knows how many more as I attempted to figure out how to weasel my way around her last question.

“Maudie, are you still on the line?”

“I…erm…yeah. Still here. Sorry, I was…multitasking. I have no idea if he’s single or not.” I was grateful that she couldn’t see my face because she’d know I was full of shit if she got one look at me. “But yes, I am working with him. I’m starting as his social media manager, which he desperately needs because he has issues with keeping his existing accounts updated and his overall presence is lacking, to say the least. Once I’ve gotten him back on track I transition into the role of social media director for Prosper. But please keep that between us. We haven’t announced anything yet, though we’re meeting tonight to discuss timelines and such.”

She chuckled, and I cringed, realizing that she still knew me entirely too well. “No idea if he’s single or not my ass. Don’t lie to Auntie Anne. You’ve already met him, haven’t you? And he’s a component of the ‘we’ and ‘we’re’, isn’t he?” I said nothing. “That incredibly long pause, in conjunction with your use of ‘am’ as opposed to ‘will be’ working with him gave you away. So, is he as beautiful in person as he is on film? And is his personality as lovely as it appears to be in interviews?”

There was a knock at the door, and my gratitude for the delivery person’s impeccable timing was boundless. “Sorry, my breakfast is here and I have to dash becau…”

She cut me off. “Maude, I did want you to call so I could congratulate you, but I also wanted to speak with you about something else. Your mother…”

I could feel every muscle in my body tensing. “Anne, how many times have I told you that I will NOT disc…”

“Please, hear me out. Her health is failing, Maude.”

“All those years of sucking down bottle after bottle of booze finally catching up with her?” The venom in my voice caught me completely off guard. As much as I insisted to myself that it was all behind me, the reality was that it was always with me, here, in the now… lurking just below the surface, ugly and dark and awful.

“I know, Maude, I know. And I hate to bring it up, but she’s in hospice and, well, I felt compelled to tell you in case you wanted to see her. Before it’s too late.” I counted to ten before I responded, focusing on all the positive things she’d done for me, hoping I could end the call courteously.

“Anne, I have to go. Be well.” I hung up before she could reply…and, thankfully, before I said something I’d wind up regretting.

************************************************** Breakfast was eaten in silence, but I’d showered and gotten ready with my iPod cranking out tunes from my ‘Fuck Off’ playlist. I’d even done a passable job on covering up the hickey. I frowned when I glanced at the clock. It was only 8:15, and I knew I had to keep moving or I’d start thinking again. As I stood on the balcony, gazing out at the azure water rolling in and out, I determined that a walk on the beach might be an ideal distraction.

Shoes in hand, messenger bag slung across my chest, I wandered down as far as I could go without getting soaked by the lapping waves. I breathed in, then out, in, and out, ever so slowly, trying to match the rhythm of the ocean. The sun warmed my face, my hands, my feet, my body…but it couldn’t quite reach into my heart. I closed my eyes and lowered my chin to my chest, using nothing but the sheer force of my will to shove the anger and pain back in the box I’d crafted for it so long ago.

I remained stock-still until the tide of somber memories began to ebb, carrying them further and further away from me, back into the turbulent sea of my past…where they fucking belonged. Always a part of me, but no longer controlling me.

My eyes opened slowly as I raised my head, and I bent down to pick up a handful of sand, letting it sift through my fingers, just as I had less than forty-eight hours before. Everything I’d overcome, the life I’d made for myself, and the promise of what was to be hit me all at once and I could feel the corners of my mouth curl up in a tiny smile. I stood, took one last look at the ocean, then turned around and headed for the conference room.

I checked my phone as I slowly worked my way down the hall, deleting five new texts from Anne without reading them. Nothing from Tom, which I fully expected. He was probably still sound asleep, all cozy and warm. Bastard. I put the phone away and pulled out my tablet to check my email, cursing myself for not doing so since Monday afternoon. One hundred and fifty-eight messages in my inbox. Fuck. I scrolled down as I walked, starring items that were urgent, until I collided with another body. My tablet went flying, landing on the floor behind me. I bent to grab it without looking up, apologizing.

“I am SO sorry…totally my fault. Reading and walking is not my forte, apparently.” I turned as I rose, and the device fell from my hands and back onto the floor as I realized just whose body I’d run into.

He was wearing black shorts, a white T-shirt and a black sweatshirt that he’d left unzipped, the hood up over his head. Aviator sunglasses hid his eyes, but he quickly removed them as he spoke softly. “Good morning.”

He leaned down and picked up my tablet, slipping it into my messenger bag before encircling me with his arms. I slid mine under his sweatshirt, ran my hands up his back ever so slowly, finally coming to rest on his shoulder blades.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m delighted to see you, but what in the ever-loving fuck are you doing up and about? It’s only 8:30. You’ve got another hour and a half to sleep, at least.” He bent to kiss me instead of replying, parting my lips gently with his tongue, then delving in to explore as his hands fell to my hips and pulled me against him. He was commando again, and rock hard. I groaned and broke the kiss, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Christ, do you even own a pair of underwear?” He laughed, then flinched. I slipped my right arm out from under his sweatshirt and gently grabbed his chin as I inspected his face. He was pale, with dark circles under his eyes that made him look bruised. “You appear to be significantly worse for wear since we last met, sir. Do I need to have a word with the gentlemen from Legendary?”

He began rubbing small circles on my lower back with one hand. “Honestly, I’d seriously consider having you stand in for me at today’s meeting if you didn’t have prior obligations.” He took the hand that held his chin and brought it to his lips, then sighed. ��They just kept buying round after round…Luke and I could barely keep up. We got mortifyingly clobbered at pool and darts. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

I fished a bottle of water from my bag and offered it to him. “Here. Drink.” He stared at me, pouting.

“But I’ll have to let go of you in order to open it. And I don’t want to.” I shoved it back in my bag. He brought me in closer, bending to nuzzle my neck. “I hope my late night texts didn’t disturb your rest.”

“I didn’t hear a thing. Wish I had, though. I would have told you to get your ass up the stairs and into my bed.” He snickered, and I felt his teeth tug at my earlobe. I wiggled my hips against him. “Thank you for the note, by the way.”

He pulled back to look at me and smiled timidly. “Did you like it?”

“No.” His eyes widened, and I stood on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I loved it. So much so that I held it in my hand while I slept.” He grasped the back of my neck, fingers easing into my hair as he pressed his lips to mine, both of our mouths falling open, tongues colliding. I sucked on his lower lip, sliding my leg up to wrap around him as he bucked against me. We froze at the sound of someone clearing their throat loudly. I leaned sideways to peek around Tom and found Serena staring back at me.

I wiped my mouth off with the back of my hand, then wiped my hand on my tunic as I stepped away from Tom. He took it in his and turned around to face her with me. My brow furrowed as I wondered what the fuck one was supposed to say in this sort of situation. Should I apologize? Should I pretend it hadn’t happened? It appeared that Tom had no clue, either. Serena burst out laughing and patted me on the shoulder.

“Good morning, Maude. I should probably give you a lecture and tell you to get a room, but I won’t because my god, the two of you are just so adorable. Dante’s loading the rest of our equipment onto the dolly. He should be here in a sec.” She opened the doors of the conference room, engaging the stoppers so they’d remain that way, then entered and began rearranging a few pieces of furniture.

I turned to Tom, shaking my head. “Public indecency. Told you so. I’m a ticking time bomb.” He smirked.

“I’m afraid I must leave you to your work, Maude. It would appear that something’s come up and needs my immediate attention.” He pulled at his shorts, adjusting himself as he whispered in my ear. “Though it would most certainly prefer your attention.” I pinched his nipple, delighting at his gasp.

“No one likes a tease, Thomas.” Dante was quickly approaching. I sighed. “On with the show, I guess.”

Tom pulled me to his chest and kissed my forehead. “Last one. And then you’re all mine.”

I poked his chest. “You need to go right now or I’m going to disappoint two hundred people when I run off with you.” He grinned. “Good luck with your meeting. I’ll see you at 4:15. Be ready to hula.”

“Oh, I’ll be ready. And I’ll bet you dinner that you can’t get Luke to join in.”

“Well, in that case, you’d better make sure there’s lots of room on your credit card, sunshine.”

“Not necessary. Won’t ever happen.” He waved as he turned and walked down the hall. I called after him.

“You are so very, very wrong.” I watched him go, biting down on my thumb. Sex on legs. Absolute truth. Serena spoke from behind me.

“Maude, Dante needs you to stand on a few marks.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. Thanks.”

“If he happens to come back before we leave, would you mind terribly if I asked him for a pic with me?” A light blush colored her cheeks. I laughed, shaking my head.

“Nope. Not one single bit.”

************************************************** It seemed as if it was over as soon as it began, and I even managed to keep my shit together when the attendees gave me a send-off standing ovation at the end of the last lecture hour. Though my emotions were mixed about being done with something that had kept me going for so long, I couldn’t help but feel…free.

Tom had stopped in during our first break, transformed from hung over frat boy to runway model after a hot shower, a huge breakfast and a gorgeous charcoal bespoke suit. He hadn’t worn a tie, and his white dress shirt was open at the neck. It took five tries on my part to get a decent shot of him and Serena, mainly because she kept looking at him instead of the camera, but my shaking hands factored in as well. I’d need to get over that shit pronto if I was going to be on photography duty for the foreseeable future. She asked if she could post it online, and I told her it was fine as long as she didn’t include location details.

It was 4:08 when I got back to my room, leaving me just enough time to change into my hiking shorts and vintage X-Files T-shirt. I did a little happy dance at the prospect of being able to spend more time in casual clothes…I’d amassed quite a collection of graphic tees over the years that I hardly ever got to wear, and now that a good portion of my work would be behind the scenes, I could.

“Well, that’s a fucking plus I hadn’t even considered. Comfy clothes, baby. Bring it on!” I ended the dance with a fist in the air as I entered the bathroom. I put my hair up in a ponytail, not even bothering to brush it first. My black Rio Birkenstocks were nowhere to be found, and, thinking about it, I hadn’t seen them since Monday. After tearing the rest of room apart, I spotted them in the little open cubby under one of the nightstands where Tom must have tucked them when he did my laundry. I strapped them on, grabbed my wallet, keys, phone, and iPod from my bag and stuffed them in my pockets, making up a little song as I danced some more.

“I love pants with pockets and I can wear them all the time and that is fucking cool because…shit. Because I’m a mime? Because I like to rhyme? Damn, I used to be GOOD at this. Ah, fuck it. POCKETS!”

One of the things I abhorred most about dress clothing was the lack of pockets. Carrying any type of bag made me feel weighed down, plus they always either fell off my shoulder or smacked me in the ass as I walked, yet I had stuff that needed to be stored somewhere. Men’s pants had the best pockets, and I often opted for those over the women’s version.

I took a last look at my reflection in the mirror. “Off you go, Maude. New chapter and all that.” I opened the room door and meandered down the steps, hand trailing along the rail. Tom and Luke were waiting for me outside their suites.

I flung my arms out to the side. “Who’s ready to HULA?!”

Luke groaned, rolling his eyes as Tom raised his hand and shouted, “I AM, I AM!”

I put a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “Come on, Luke, let your hair down a little.” He snorted.

“I tried that last night and found it to be rather disadvantageous.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. Tom smirked at me and mouthed ‘this is a bet you cannot win’. I threw him double birds. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys to his rental car dangling them in front of me.

“Shall we?” I shook my head.

“Let’s take my Jeep. Feel the breeze. Be rugged.” Luke held up his hand.

“Please, no. The jouncing around might kill me.” I huffed.

“Fine, fine. Have it your way. But if the car has an auxiliary jack you might be sorry I acquiesced.”

He was indeed sorry, as Tom and I sang the entire 11 minutes it took to get to the Kaua’i Museum. Towards the end of Pharell’s ‘Happy’ he appeared to be contemplating opening the door and leaping into traffic.

“I’m not sure what’s making me more nauseated…the hangover or the two of you caterwauling up there.” I reached back to pat his knee.

“I promise I’m not always this obnoxiously elated, Luke. I’m just on a quit-my-old-job-today-and-have-a-super-cool-new-one high. It won’t last.”

He nodded his head. “Mmm hmm. And I’m sure it has nothing to do with our chauffer.”

I glanced over at Tom, put my hand to the side of my mouth and looked back at Luke, whispering. “He is awfully pretty, isn’t he?” He rested his head in his hands as the car made an abrupt right turn into the museum parking lot.

It was a lovely place, located on Rice Street in the Albert Spencer Wilcox and William Hyde Rice buildings. Hula classes were conducted by members of the Daughters or Hawai’i in the courtyard, as the museum itself closed at five. There were a total of eleven of us, and just as Tom predicted, Luke immediately sat on the sidelines while the rest of us gathered around the instructor. Her name was Iolana and she appeared to be in her late fifties. As she explained that hula is a dance accompanied by a chant (oli) or song (mele), the dance portraying the words in a visual format I stared at Luke and tapped my foot.

Iolana asked us all to move behind her, at least three feet apart, and I flung my hand out at Luke and then pointed to the open space next to me. He shook his head. I pouted. Then I put my hands together, silently begging, mouthing ‘please?’ while batting my eyelashes. No way in hell was I losing this bet. He sighed, put his chin on his chest and hefted himself out of the chair to join us. I turned to Tom and stuck my tongue out. He shook his head and stepped closer so he could whisper in my ear.

“He hasn’t actually danced yet, Maude.” I slapped his arm.

We were instructed to stand with feet apart, left knee bent and our hands on our hips, then step with our left foot and slide our right foot next to the left, bending that knee. The process was repeated in the opposite direction. After we mastered the steps, it was time for some hip action…raising it in time with and in the opposite direction of the step, keeping both knees bent. Iolana turned to check our progress and immediately went to Luke, putting her hands on his hips and pushing them in the correct direction. I turned to Tom and grinned. He shook his finger at me.

“He’s not using his hands.” I rolled my eyes. Iolana had moved back to the front to continue the lesson. One arm bent at the elbow in front of the body, the other extended out from it in the direction of the step, head facing that way as well, fingers together and hands moving at the wrists like a wave. Again, the process was repeated in the opposite direction when moving that way.

Iolana taught us a few more arm motions and explained what they meant, advising that they were only the chorus of a mele called Eleile, which we’d be ‘telling’ over and over for the duration of the class, then turned on the music. I glanced at Luke, then turned to Tom and started doing alternating wave motions rapidly with my hands in front of me. He tilted his head.

“That doesn’t look like a legitimate hula hand motion, Maude.” I grinned.

“It’s not. Do you want to know what it means?”

“No.”

“Sure you do. It’s my visual interpretation of ‘you lose, sucker’.” I thumbed in Luke’s direction. He was dancing, and it looked like he might even be enjoying it a little. Tom hung his head in defeat, and I tried to refrain from drooling as I watched him roll his hips. I kept missing steps and had to close my eyes in order to focus. The tempo of the music increased, and without the distraction of keeping an eye on Luke or ogling Tom I completely lost myself in the dance. It was an incredible feeling, moving faster, back and forth, the rhythm and motions of my body conveying this brief chapter of a story via a method that had been used for generations, dating back to ancient times when indigenous peoples worshiped volcano goddesses.

I heard clapping, faint at first but louder as more people joined in. I opened my eyes, discovering that I was the only one still dancing other than Iolana. And that everyone was staring at me. I stopped. A huge grin spread across her face.

“Miss, where did you study hula, if you don’t mind my asking?”

I swallowed. “I’m Maude. And, just here. I’ve never done it before.”

Her eyes widened. “Well, Miss Maude, it’s very unusual for someone to catch on so quickly, especially a first-timer. I guess you’re just a natural.” She put her hand on my shoulder. “You dance beautifully, my dear. I’m sure your boyfriend would agree.” She smirked knowingly at Tom, then began to circulate amongst the other participants, stopping to speak to Luke first.

Boyfriend. Is that what he is? I turned to face Tom, and what I saw in his eyes was overwhelming. Desire, passion, admiration, awe, joy, and something else that I didn’t think I was ready or willing to hang a name on quite yet. I waved self-consciously.

“Hi there.” I watched him take several deep breaths, and I noticed he had his phone in his hand.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, did you film that?!” He nodded. I groaned and covered my face with my hands. He pulled them away gently, and now that he was right in front of me I could see his eyes shone with tears.

“Sorry. My original intent was to video Luke so I could email it to Simon, which I did, but then you…and I had to. It was one of the most breathtaking things I’ve ever seen. Here, watch it.” I shook my head.

“Nope. Maybe later.” He reached out to touch my face, fingers feathering over my cheekbone and down to my jaw.

“Alright. Later. But I don’t think I’ll ever be the same. The rest of us, we were just moving. But you, you told a story. An ancient, timeless story.” He waved to get Iolana’s attention. She excused herself from her chat with two older ladies and came over to us.

“Hello, Iolana. I’m Tom.” She shook his proffered hand. “Do you happen to have an English translation of the chorus you taught us today?”

“Yes, I do. Right up here.” We followed her to the table that held her portable stereo and paperwork. She pulled a sheet out of a purple folder. “I’m so pleased you’re interested in learning more. An hour is such a short period of time and I have to focus intently on the dancing, so I rarely get to talk about the song itself. This is the chorus of the mele. Eleile is a dark swirling pool on Maui, also known as the water that returns the ti. It is customary to break a ti leaf stalk and throw it into the pool. As the water swirls, the leaves are unfurled, then pushed back into a long, tight bud.” She handed it to him. He read it, then passed it to me without saying a word. I read it. Then I re-read the chorus again. And again.

Dark is the water of Eleile The cold dwelling place of the mist It is made warm by love That stood close at my side

I felt his hand on my forearm. I refused to look away from the words on the paper. He spoke, voice fraught with emotion he struggled to contain.

“Looks like you were telling our story.” My hands were shaking, eyes still fixed on the mele chorus. He put his on top of them, steadying me. “When you danced…I swear I could see your soul. And oh, how it called to me, Maude.”

Silence surrounded us, and as I raised my gaze I noted that everyone was staring at me. Again. I inhaled, then let it out with a whoosh as my eyes found his. I still couldn’t quite manage to form words. He took a step closer to me, moving his hands to my shoulders.

“I know it’s only been two days since we met, and that you’ll very well likely think me certifiably insane for saying this, and perhaps I am, but every fiber of my being is screaming at me to do so and sometimes you just have to fight your fears and say fuck it, come on, so…Maude, I am totally, completely, utterly, madly in love with you.”

My mouth dropped open, then closed as I bit my lower lip. Right. Fight my fears. Sure. Fuck it, why not? I shrugged. “Well, Thomas, in that case we’d best pick out some matching straitjackets because I, too, have clambered aboard the crazy train. Wildly, wholly, entirely, absofuckingloutely in love. With you.”

He kissed me, briefly, sweetly. The tiny crowd oohed and ahhed, then began to disperse. As we said our goodbyes and thanks to Iolana Luke came over, phone raised, smiling. I rolled my eyes.

“Let me guess. You filmed all of that. What is with you people?” He laughed, and I shook my head. “Well, now we have even more details to discuss. And I want pizza. Can we get pizza? Let’s get pizza. LOTS of pizza. Tom’s even buying. Right, Tom? Or was all this a distraction so you could welsh out on our bet?”

He put his arm around my waist and kissed the top of my head as we exited the courtyard. “You can’t blame me for trying, can you?”

Luke’s eyes narrowed. “What bet?”

I looked at Tom. “You tell him.”

He shook his head. “I’m not telling him.”

Luke ran in front of us, stopped, arms crossed. “Someone had better tell me.”

We remained silent and walked around him to the car. Luke groaned as he got in. “Already conspiring against me. Fine. Don’t tell me. But I’m going to order ten fucking pizzas, just for spite.”

He took out his phone, clicked something, and the sounds of hula music filled the vehicle.

“Thomas William Hiddleston, did you send Simon a video of me doing the hula?” Tom started to chuckle.

“Me? Why on earth would you think I’d do such a thing?”

Luke snorted. “Because you fucking did, that’s why. Hmm, I think I’m starting to see how this went down. Your bet involved whether or not I’d dance. Maude suckered me into it and won. Tom, I’m going to kick your ass when we get out of this car. Maude, I’m impressed. Mildly disappointed in your behavior, but impressed just the same. And Simon says to tell you you’re a wonderful dancer.”

I turned to see Luke’s phone, hoping to catch a glimpse of Simon’s face. I got lucky…it was his lock screen background, or so I assumed. “Is that Simon?” He nodded and passed me the phone. “Damn, Luke, he’s gorgeous.” Luke grinned.

“Even more so in person. You’ll get to meet him tomorrow. He’s flying out to stay for a bit. In the beach house we’ll all be sharing.”

I turned to Tom, tilting my head quizzically. “Um, beach house? What beach house?”

He smirked, then shrugged. “What can I say? The meetings with the Legendary people went well. Really, really well.”

#your light in the mist #chapter 8

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knowthatiloveyou · 6 years

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Catherine Russell Interview for Diva Magazine June Edition

”WHEN IT COMES TO WHAT OUR BODIES LOOK LIKE, WHAT ARE WE DOING TO OURSELVES?”

When Catherine Russell announced her temporary departure from BBC medical soap Holby City, queer fans were in uproar. Together with Jemma Redgrave, she was half of the monumentally popular ship Berena – otherwise known as Major Bernie Wolfe (Redgrave) and Russell’s toughas- nails but impeccably stylish Serena Campbell. But while Serena was on a sabbatical, grieving the death of her daughter and making her beloved Shiraz in a French vineyard, Russell was delighting audiences in Joe Orton’s black comedy What The Butler Saw and taking a road trip around Europe. Now, Serena Campbell is back on the wards and about to be reunited with Bernie, but for how long? Catherine sat down with DIVA to talk feminism on the Holby wards, Serena’s coming out arc, and whether Bernie’s brief return to Holby means an end to Berena – or a whole new beginning.

“I’m very, very lucky in that Serena isn’t a one-trick pony… She’s not just the one canvas. So I get to do a bit of comedy sometimes. Sometimes I get to do a bit of angst with storylines like my mother having vascular dementia, and then the tragic storyline of Serena’s daughter dying. I get to do that. Then of course I get to do romance too.”

It’s the romance that totally hooked viewers to the already-popular soap. Serena and her leopard print scrubs were already established as a fan favourite, and then Jemma Redgrave brought her following from Doctor Who. The combination of two professional women in their 50s teaming up and supporting each other would have won audiences over even without the romance.

In fact, Holby now seems like a hotbed of feminism, which delights Russell. “When I first joined, there was basically me and Jac Naylor, and that was it really. Everybody else was either a nurse or an F1 (foundation doctor).

Now we’ve got a really fabulous strong team of women of a certain age, holding down positions of power and authority, and doing it really well. And also doing it without necessarily all bitching at each other. I’ve always said we mustn’t fall into the stereotype that because there are women in positions of power, they have to be competitive with each other. It’s just been done to death. I don’t believe it, I don’t buy it. That’s not what I see in my day-to-day life.”

Although she is back for good on the show – “That is if Holby want to keep me of course. Every year we have a new contract. It’s not a done deal, but if they do, I think I’d like to be there for a good few years to come yet” – Redgrave isn’t slated to return beyond the few episodes they have in the can. Which sounds a bit ominous for our favourite queer lady surgeons, right? “Basically Bernie comes back as a surprise, wanting to persuade Serena that it’s time for her to go back out and help set up the new trauma unit. Which needs two heads because it’s so huge. That’s essentially where we’re at, and Serena wasn’t expecting her at that point.”

Although the relationship has had to take place offscreen since Serena’s return, the show’s writers have made a conscious effort to keep it alive. But how sustainable is that? “I think up to that point it’s been tricky. I think they’ve tried very hard to do this long-distance, and I’ve think they’ve probably succeeded better than most people do at it, because of the age they are really… But it’s not easy, and I think some of the communication where Bernie’s been has been difficult as well. It hasn’t been straightforward; there hasn’t been great phone signal and stuff like that.

“There’s absolute delight from Serena that suddenly she’s there, but she turns up on a day that’s extremely busy with a very difficult operation that has to be done. So it’s tricky. I think people will really like it because it’s two episodes, and it’s a real rollercoaster. It’s an emotional rollercoaster but I’m pretty sure that people will be very happy with its outcome.”

Hear that, Berena fans? We can all release that breath we’ve been holding. Probably. Either way, Russell was delighted to be working with Redgrave again. “You never can tell with another actor, even if it works, whether there’s that sort of extra spark that’s undefinable.

It’s difficult. It’s a bit like mercury, you think you’ve got it one minute and you can explain it, the next minute it’s gone. There’s a certain amount of extremely friendly rivalry insomuch as the old adage, that if you want to learn how to play better tennis, well, play with somebody who’s a bit better than you. I think that quite often that’s part of the reason we work well together – because she’ll do a bit in a scene and I’ll think, ‘Bloody hell, that’s good. Ok, better up my game’. Then she’ll look at me and go, ‘Oh, I see. That’s good, I’d better up my game then…’ But there is also the air between the two of us that is difficult to explain. There is definitely something chemistry-wise that works.”

”WE’RE CONSTANTLY TOLD BUYING THINGS WILL MAKE YOU HAPPY. IT WON’T. IT’S BULLSHIT”

Although this isn’t Russell’s first time locking lips with a woman onscreen – she played Rachel in lush wartime period drama The Cazalets in the 1990s – the plot line quickly transformed her into a lesbian icon and she’s since appeared with Redgrave on the convention circuit to the delight of fans. Was she surprised by the way fans embraced the relationship?

“It would be disingenuous of me to say that I wasn’t. I was surprised at the strength of feeling, and I was surprised by the numbers. That’s just my ignorance more than anything else. I hadn’t really clocked how bad gay representation is, particularly for women. I have to put my hands up to that. So I hadn’t really understood quite how impassioned and important it was going to be. But as soon as I did, I was delighted.”

She’s determined to use her platform, both on social media and on Holby itself to talk about issues that affect women, particularly older women. “I’m slightly banging my drum at the moment, saying we should do a storyline about menopause, because that’s another thing. You turn the television on, you listen to radio drama, anything. It’s not there. 50% of the population are going to go through this and there are no stories about it. It’s very bizarre. So I do think that issues that aren’t seen and aren’t written about, and there’s a great chunk of the population that are going through certain issues, are vitally important.”

In a profession where women are constantly told they need to look young in order to work, Russell surprised viewers when she returned from her hiatus with grey hair. “I knew I had the nine months off. I knew I would need a wig for What The Butler Saw. I knew nobody would give a monkey’s what I looked like in a van. So I cut it all off, really short, just before I went into the play and I just let it grow out. I’ve been dyeing my hair since I was 28. I had no idea what was under there. I quite like it. When I came back to Holby I think that the producers were a bit…ok, really? Grey? But when I showed it to them, they liked it. At the moment, that’s where it’s staying.

“I really just don’t get the obsession with trying to look younger than you are. I get being thin, I get being fit, I get not wanting to have spots. I get all that, but the obsession with wanting to look younger, I find curious and I don’t really get it. I don’t want to have any more children, why do I want to look like I’m fertile still? It would be weird.”

She’s also passionate about a subject near to the hearts of many LGBT women – vaginas. A Twitter defence of the “full 1970’s bush” a few years ago is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to her one-woman crusade to normalise women’s pubic hair. “I think it’s there for a reason, you know? It’s healthy, it’s good for you, it should be there. The porn industry has a lot to answer for when it comes to what our bodies look like, in terms of hair and the whole designer vagina area of things. Again, really? What are we doing to ourselves? Come on, people. It’s very strange.”

Her current reading is The Wonder Down Under: A User’s Guide To The Vagina, and when she says she’s thinking about buying copies to leave on public transport, you don’t get the sense that she’s joking. “My daughter read it and she thought it was quite academic. I said, ‘Well, good’.

‘Medical’ was the word she used [and] that’s exactly what people need. For young women and young men, there are so many myths and notions of what’s normal and not normal out there. Actually, what we need are a few facts.”

Although Russell confesses she enjoys the fame that Holby brings – “If you’re going to be an actor, you can’t be cross if somebody wants to come up and say, ‘We really like watching you, please could you sign this photograph?’ It’s part and parcel, and it’s fun” – she’s refreshingly unstarry. Three months spent travelling around Europe with her husband in a van saw her embracing a minimalist lifestyle she’s reluctant to let go of.

“That was absolutely one of the most extraordinary things I’ve ever done. It really, really was, and if anybody has the opportunity, take it. Those moments in your life don’t come along very often, and it was absolutely a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and has stayed with me a huge amount.

Not least of which because I realised that we don’t need a hell of a lot of stuff. We think we do, and we think it’s important. We’re constantly being told to buy things, and it’ll make you happy if you own this dress or that pair of shoes. It won’t. It’s bullshit, and actually I could have done it for longer. Coming back to a house with all the stuff in it was difficult because I’d just spent three months never wearing make-up, never putting a brush through my hair really. Just having three sets of clothes to change into. It was just great. I loved it.”

So are we going to lose Russell to the road – or, after her hilarious turn in What The Butler Saw, the stage? Not likely, she says. “I had forgotten how arse-wettingly terrifying live theatre is, as I hadn’t been on stage for about five years. It’s a bit like having a baby. You hear people have a baby and they go, ‘I’m never doing that again’. Two years later they’re going, ‘Oh I’m going to have another’.

Have they forgotten? I think theatre’s a bit like that. You forget that it’s frightening and it’s hard work and all of those things. I do love to make people laugh, and so to hear an audience laughing at something you’ve said or done, or a turn of the head, was gratifying to say the least. But I didn’t get to the end of it and think, ‘Right that’s it. I must be on the stage forever, I’ve made a clanging error in agreeing to go back to Holby’. At all. In fact, I thought ‘Well that’s that itch scratched for a while. Jolly good, get me back to the hospital please.’”

So there you have it – Holby City won’t be saying goodbye to Serena Campbell any time soon. Russell is tight-lipped about how that will ultimately affect Berena, but it’s hard not to be glad that the formidable surgeon will be stalking the wards for a long time to come.

Still, if she ever decides to take her feminist politics to a bigger platform, she’s got our vote.

#catherine russell #serena campbell #berena #bernie wolfe #jemma redgrave #diva magazine

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