#I just kinda blacked out while writing the script and when I woke up what I had was...

[chimkin-samich]

Nebula act 3 is gonna have 13 parts.

I know cuz I just completed it and put it into the right folders... A total of 34 more panels before the end. Which is not much if we take in consideration the length of the entire thing

🙃

Sometimes I sit and wonder why I did this to myself...

[thatbangtanbloom]

unspoken | bts [1]

unspoken

teaser | [1]

characters: kim namjoon, kim seokjin, min yoongi, jung hoseok, park jimin, kim taehyung, jeon jungkook, reader

pairings: ot7 x fem! reader

categories: angst, fluff, smut

genre: idol!bts, idol!reader (maybe obsessive!bts??? yandere!bts???)

warnings: reader has her life TOGETHER (???appears to anyway), jungkook being sad about reader giving others (mostly tae) attention, make out on the couch, sex on the couch, all the boys kinda obsessive behavior mentioned at the end?, bts members are possessive (mostly jk!!), (uhhh may be slight yandere themes? no violence to)

a/n: this follows immediately after the teaser, so it mostly focuses on jungkook!!! other members will be introduced in the next chapters

It wasn’t like you weren’t used to holding things together. You had been trained for years to be a top idol. Five: those were the years you spent bringing your lyricism to perfection, years dedicated to personality training for variety shows and publicity conferences, years conjured up in between vocal training sessions and dance practices to make you every bit of a fourth generation idol that you could manage. As the leader of one of the the top girl groups in Korea, you had grown used to taking constructive criticism and turning it into perfect moves. You leveraged commercial film deals with ease as you opted for optimal screen time for each of your members easily. You easily quelled squabbles between the four other members in your group over bouts of jealousy and short term argument. For years, you trained as a lone gem to bring both men and women to your knees alike with the mere turn of your wrist or seductive smile. You were trained for everything.

What you were not trained for were your seven boyfriends. The seven of them did not hold a single provision in your years of training nor was there any booklet for explaining how to juggle their varying needs and degrees of affection they desired from you. None of them has been forecasted as an event in your already packed schedule between V-Lives, fan meetings, press conferences, or music shows when collecting win after win. You still managed your best.

When you were not preparing for a new album, learning a new dance routine, or writing new lyrics, your time was divided up amongst the seven of them. You often accompanied Seokjin as he played Maple Story with you settled into his lap with a giggle whenever he complained about the new skins. Or, you could be found sitting in the studio with Yoongi drinking iced americanos (a drink you detested more than the monthly evaluations you had as a trainee) working on lyrics together with your fingers entwined together. With Hoseok, you spent the bulk of your time dancing to your hearts content or pressed against one another in ways that would appear amoral if not for the spoken seductions he would whisper to you. Namjoon’s own commitment to giving you an endless list of recommendations as you laid in his arms, conversing about the black ink on white pages with full hearts. Jimin often meant being cuddled under heaps of blankets as you watched animal videos together and played with his hair when you were not reassuring him of how well he had done the day before. Taehyung meant practicing the scripts together for the dramas you would audition for and splashing each other to your hearts content as you washed the dishes of the dorm after Seokjin cooked. And lastly, being with Jungkook meant impromptu video shoots all the time; the boy wanting to remember every moment he spent with you as though it would be his last.

You may not had been the most organized, but you did know how to cherish each of your boys just as you did the other valuable people and aspirations within your life. While not meticulous, things almost always went to plan for you when you worked hard enough… but even that meant that surprises (especially the pleasant surprises) could make all the difference.

So it was given when you woke up at five in the morning the next day to find Jungkook sitting rigidly on the sofa, you had an inkling of how your day would go with this very uncommon occurence. The youngest of your boyfriends often opted for staying up only when playing video games or producing new tracks for his highly anticipated mixtape, but you saw nothing in hand but his phone.

“You’re awake.” You comment as you lean over the couch to press your lips gently against his temple. All the tension in his body seems to leave when his arms snake around your waist to send you plummeting into his lap.

Jungkook had always been rather fond of using his strength against you.

“You were with hyung again, last night.” He stares more so as a statement rather than a question. It had been one of those days when things felt a bit too overwhelming and Taehyung had sensed it before you. It was not intentional you found yourself being coddled by the raven haired man, but it seemed to be happening more and more as contract recertification was coming and the girls growing increasingly antsy about future concepts.

You can hear the displeasure in Jungkook’s voice. “Is something wrong?” You ask as you sit up in his lap to touch his cheek.

“You’re always with him.” Jungkook whispers with a frown settling on his lips. “You know he’s not your only boyfriend, right? There’s me... and the others..”

You bite the inside of your lip as you think about the delicate balance of your relationship with the seven of them. Their feelings weren’t as easy as dodging invasive questions in a press conference or could be corrected after a quick meeting with producers. Perhaps you were not as prepared as you thought. You just wanted to hold it together again.

“I know you’re my boyfriend too, Kook.” You say as you snake your arms around his shoulders. “You know that I love you all equally, right?”

Scoffing, Jungkook pouts. “You say that,”

“Jungkook.” You frown deeper as you press your forehead against his. “I mean it. I love you all the same! Each of you have your own charms that make me realize why I wanted to be with you in the first place. I love you just as much as I love Taehyung and I love Taehyung just as much as I love Seokjin. And I love Seokjin as much as I love Nam-“

“야.. 야... I gathered that much. You could have stopped with loving me.” Jungkook jokes, making the familiar flutter of your stomach return. You were happy he understood. “I’m not letting you off the hook that easily.”

“You’re not?” You muse with a raise of your brow.

“Mmm.” Jungkook replies as his hands grip both of your hips to pull you closer before pressing you flushed against his chest. “I can think of ways for you to make it up to me, baby girl.” He is no less subtle as his hands run up along your sides and settle over your breast. He opts for teasing the right one first, circling the sensitive bud between his index finger and thumb. “I can think of a very good way for you to make it up to me.”

He lifts up your white shirt and tugs down the cup of your bra to place an open-mouthed kiss onto your right breast and then your left with a long sigh. “So. so..so fucking pretty and all for me,” His words send vibrations along your skin. He reluctantly pulls back, watching your shirt fall back over your frame and rubs the small of your back gingerly. “I always want you, you know that, right?”

“If you want me, you know you already have me.” You quip prior to kissing along his jawline. He was a sucker for kisses there- he always had been. The thought of your kisses alone could have him cupping the base of his cock and edging himself for release when he thinks about your soft lips on his jaw, his neck, his lips, his cock.

Nevertheless, you scoff at his words. He always amused you when he pulled out that nickname in particular, but you couldn’t deny that it combined with the taunting look in his eyes did provoke some part of you. “I have to get back to the dorms before the girls wake up, Jungkook.”

“I’ll drive you.” He offers with a smile as devilish as Lucifer himself. Jeon Jungkook was equal parts crafty as he was intelligent.

“As enticing as it is to do that and we both know how badly I do want you,” you preface as you toy with the golden chain that dangles around Jungkook’s neck. He had known you were far too fond of it. “That will draw attention.. they’ll recognize your car.” You frown in attempts to reasoning with him. He doesn’t back down though; he never does when it comes to you.

“We can figure things out,” He whispers as he begins to kiss along you neck slowly. The sensation of his lips are gentle in comparison to the way his hips rut against your own. “Just wanna be inside you.. it’s been so long.”

The youngest of your boyfriends always had a bit of an appetite. During award shows, he often was the first to come find you in some miraculous show of stealth. Even during concerts when BigHit would hold its annual New Years Eve Live, he would linger backstage to catch a glimpse of you. You have dated him long enough to know the subtlety was not his forte. Now was no different.

You tug lightly at the ends of his hair to make him look at you. It is instinctual; the moan falling from his lips as his grip on your hip tightens. It does not stop either as he expertly rolls his hips against your spread ones.

“Wanna feel your tight pussy around my thick cock,” He rasps into your ear as his right hand slights down your hip to your ass and cups it. His hands are a stark contrast to how his lips kiss your skin like a brush on the canvas. He wants all of you. He wants to feel a part of you in the deepest way. “Please? I need you so badly, baby.” He whispers as his member presses more in between your thighs, just over your clothed sex.

You let out a curse from his wandering hands. “You really know how to provoke me, huh?” You shake your head in amusement as you pin Jungkook down onto the couch. He follows easily - he’s always been a good boy whenever you’re around you.

“You shouldn’t hold back. You know I like it rough, YN-ah.” He presses his tongue against the side of his cheek. It’s always been a tell of his when he can barely hold it together - can barely hold back from wanting to feel all of you. “No teasing either.” He’s always been eager to test you, eager to see how much you would let him get away with.

You straddle his hips with practiced ease while untying his gray sweatpants, “You’ve always talked too much.” You halfheartedly remark as you tug down the taut fabric down his tanned thick thighs.

“You love it when I talk,” He quips back. He’s smug as his hand reaches out to stroke your cheek gingerly. He watches you with nothing but admiration and lust in his eyes. He’s always enjoyed how you take control, but that does not mean that he is not one to challenge you. What was the fun in fully submitting when you could make him? “But you like it so much more when my head is between your pretty thighs, don’t you? You like the way my tongue thrusts into your tight pussy until you’re on the brink of cumming?”

You give a noncommittal hum as every so often, his thumb presses down over the denim of your jeans to your clit to intensify the flex of his thigh. He’s always loved this view of you hovering over him, moaning from the slightest action he gives you and wanting more until it drives you over the edge. He knows you could quite possibly cum just from this alone, but Jeon Jungkook has always been a generous man.

With this in mind, he takes advantage of your hips lingering over his right thigh after shifting to toss his sweatpants to the side to press his flexed thigh against you and sends you flush against his chest with a smirk. He likes seeing the contorted look of frustration on your look from the sudden change of pace and he only raises a brow. “What’s wrong, baby? Did you think I would give in easily?”

“Oh, Jungkook,” You give a breathy sigh as your eyes meet his own full blown ones. He’s always had gorgeous chocolate brown eyes; the usual galaxy colored in them eclipsed by something far darker. Before you can reprimand him, he presses down harder onto your hips until you straddle his thigh and flexes his thigh once more. The sensation makes you sensitive, especially when he manages to brush your clit with the slightest action.

What a brat, he was.

You don’t hold back the moan that escapes from the back of your throat. He is more keen to feel all of you when your hands fall to his chest to try to regain your posture, but Jungkook finds it more endearing the way you still grind against his flexed thigh like a fucked out kitten.

He knows that he could cum simply from hearing your moans alone, but you’ve taught him well at holding out. He watches the way your hips press harder against his own thigh, wanting to feel all of him despite the two layers of clothing that separate him from you.

He takes initiative to unbutton the top of your jeans before rolling them down your thighs. He is speedy as his arm grips your waist to press you against his chest and they soon join the puddle of his own jeans on the floor. He has always been insatiable when it comes to you, often eager to drop to his knees and eat you out until the sunrise, and a burning sensation in your stomach tells you that this time won’t be any different.

“What was that about needing to get back to your dorms?” He asks with smirk on his face as he turns your chin to look at him. His words are accusatory, acting as though you were not riding his thigh to fruition. “I can think of a better way to do this, though.”

“So can I,” You reply after finally getting over the initial high of him teasing you.

“Mmm,” Jungkook whispers without another word. Normally shy around others, he never could quite control himself around you. He had no intention on doing so either, especially not when you were half clothed in front of him and he had gotten the taste of you he had wanted, but still, Jeon Jungkook remained insatiable. “I have a request.”

“A request?” You repeat back to him with a tilt of your head. You can tell that he is the temptation incarnate as his hands begin to cup your sex and slowly his middle and index finger begin to tease your wet folds through your panties.

Nodding, he indents his sense with a tug at your panties to send them down your thighs. “Mmm. A request-“ He says before once more rolling on top of you and pinning you down into the couch. He never did get tired of manhandling you-the way your body fell limp under his just with the swiftness of his moves was more than enough to have his cock grow harder to be inside of you, but he would wait. He would be good until you told him not to be.

“And that is…” You find it hard to keep up the conversation, especially when Jungkook drops to his elbows to carefully cup both of your hips and draw you nearer to him. Your pussy grows wetter just from the way his index finger continues to brush over your clit before swiping down your slit to get a bit of your essence and he licks his fingers.

He does not answer you, only opting to connect his lips against your aching cunt without warning. Soft like petals, his lips kiss your clit ever so slightly prior to him moving closer to you like a man starved to begin to send stripes of love against your cunt with his tongue. The first of them has you bucking your hips to entrance his face between your thighs, but the rest nearly have you twitching for more. Perhaps you were a bit more worked up then you anticipated.

Your hands immediately find chase in his hair, wanting to remember each thrust into your tight pussy from Jungkook’s thick tongue. He is careful to savor each drop of your essence that begins to paint his jaw with love. He honestly thinks he can grow drunk from the amazing taste that dribbles from you.

“Fuck, you taste so good.” He rasps against your cunt, only adding to the vibrations of your tight pussy. “I just wanna stay between your thighs forever.” His licks are ultimately calculated, but every now and then he grows lost in your essence as his nose begins to bump against your clit every so often. The added sensation has you nearly stuttering out his name. “Fuck, I really want to be inside this tight pussy. You like the way I eat your pussy, don’t you?”

You are keenly aware of Jungkook’s love of praise and you ultimately have no problem giving it to him as you choke out on your moans, “That feels so good, Kook-fuck- baby boy, knows how to eat pussy well, doesn’t he?“

“Fuck, I almost just from hearing that,” He rasps out, making you realize how he grinds against the cushion of the couch at the same cadence of you bucking your hips. He’s so fucked out at this point, barely able to hold it together when he can feel how tightly your walls clench around his wet tongue. It turns him on to no end and he can only think of how tightly you would fit around him. “You know,” He pulls back slowly, but his fingers still return to scissor inside your wet cunt as he leans forward on his knees to hover over you. “You know you could have all of us to yourselves, right? For a whole week… no distractions,” He curls his fingers inside of you, making you moan louder in pleasure from how good it feels. “It’s been a long time since you’ve felt Yoongi-hyung’s tongue inside of your pretty pussy, huh?”

The thought of Yoongi alone make you tighten your hips a bit more and you nod. Yet, you still question, where is he going with this?

“I’ve been thinking.. well,” He stops rubbing your clit for a moment to make sure you have his full attention before adding another finger. Before he can continue, he finds himself growing more lustful for the essence that pools at your hips and returns his mouth onto your wet cunt with a sigh of relief. He’s in euphoria with each moan that escapes your mouth. “You taste so fucking sweet “-and we want to go on a trip. The eight of us. You’ve got break and so do we coming up. I’m sure we could fit things together, right?”

Fitting things together - all you can think about is how perfect Jungkook would fit inside of you if he weren’t eating you out right now, but you are not one to complain. You are more than happy to spend time with the boys, “Of course… I would love tha-“ You suck in a deep breath to mask the moan when Jungkook finds your g-spot without much need to look. He memorized you like the back of his hand.

“Mmm, I can tell you’re close.” He smirks as he slaps your ass. The added pain as you wiggling your hips for more friction against his tongue, but he likes seeing you like this. Completely at his mercy and every whim to treat you as he pleases. You who seemingly always held things together, crumbling right in front of him as a slobbering mess as he eats you out. It was so hot.

“Shit-“ You rasp out as you feel the familiar twinge in your stomach. Your walls only tighten more around Jungkook’s fingers as he speeds up the pace to watch the way your face contours into pleasure. Your back arches when he curls his fingers inside of you for a third time and unknowingly to you, Jungkook finds his own release chasing after yours when his cock throbs more in pleasure. “I’m so close Jungkook-“

“Me too, baby, fuck,.” He whispers as he increases the thrust of his fingers inside of you to match the thrust of his own hips to bring you both to your eyes. His thighs flex as the familiar tension in his stomach bubbles up and he wants to cum all over you. God, he wants to lick every drop of your cum from your body as it mixes with his own.

Without another word, your high comes crashing down as your eyes shut closed and your hips buckle one last time around Jungkook’s fingers. You call out out his name before realizing it and tightly encapsulate his fingers between your thighs as you lazily ride out your high.

Jungkook does not fair any better as he uses his free hand to cup the base of his cock and pump the aching desire that begins to consume him. Seeing you cum is more than enough to have his stomach tense one last time before white ribbons paint your stomach, making him grunt in pleasure from how sexy you are and the intensity of the orgasm that he had just experienced.

He collapses on top of you, sighing into the crook of your neck as he nuzzles his face affectionately into your own. Despite the ache in your core somewhat subsiding, Jungkook still grinds his softening cock against your thigh for the last of his high, “Fuck.. that was so good.”

“You did well,” you reassure him as you pant up and down. You turn your face to press a kiss against his lips and smile. “I’m also excited for this trip you guys are planning.”

Jungkook blinks as he thinks about the trip and nods shyly. He leans more into your touch, wanting to feel all of you as he snakes his arms around his waist to hold you close. “I am too… I just really want to be with you, but the others also want it too…”

“I want to be with them too. I love you and them, you know?” You whisper quietly into his ear while gingerly stroking his cheek.

“I love you too,” Jungkook whispers against your skin while leaving butterfly kisses along your shoulder. “But.. can I ask you something else?”

You nod, “Mmm?”

“Please don’t spend so much time with Taehyung,” Jungkook whispers as he finds himself growing more demure. HE doesn’t want to see your reaction; the way your features furrow into confusion at the request in fear of you rejecting him. “I’m not saying to avoid him.. but .. but please try to be with me a lot, too.. I. I worry you’ll stop loving me… or won’t think of me.. and forget me.” He felt incredibly vulnerable in front of you, especially now when he has done his best to give it all to you, but it still makes him nervous.

“Jungkook,” Your features soften at his words and you gingerly stroke his cheek. “I think of you so much. You know that right? I love you a lot and will do better since it worries you. You mean just as much to me as everyone else does.” You smile warmly, “So don’t worry about it… okay?”

Your words provide him some solace, so Jungkook shyly agrees, “Okay..” He whispers, but his grip on your hand doesn’t let go. Nevermind that he was your boyfriend, along with his six haunts who you loved equally just as you loved him. He could sense the growing tension between the seven of them as they all tried to vy for your attention.

He knew of Jimin’s own interest of whisking you away from everyone with his pretty eye smile and wanting to teach you contemporary dances so you could see the way that Jimin would lead you away. Hell, even Jimin had suggested that he would be eager to take you away from everyone if he had the chance. Namjoon was no better, only thinking of the sparkle I your eyes as he suggested a new book to you, a new concept that ultimately left you in awe of him to where you would ideally follow him and never move away.

Seokjin had made it clear of his own intents to have you and you alone when he suggested taking you back home to meet his family and see the traditional way of doing things in Korea; the smile his parents would give from finding someone so prim and proper like you. Though appearing aloof, Yoongi had his own stake in luring you into his own embrace through words of eloquence, rhymes to make your heart dizzy, and a tongue to course you into things unimaginable. Hoseok’s own methodology of spoiling you to no end with attention and suggested dancing was the first part of many to guide you into his charms; the others focusing on learning every bit of you until the end for him to ruin.

Taehyung had been the most bold of it - eagerly molding himself to be whatever you wanted under the guise of practicing monologues and scenes from his favorite movies. Too keenly aware, Jungkook could recognize how very much their own behaviors were no different from his own as he laid in wake to catch you alone and make you his at every opportunity he could with a voice like a siren and bright galaxy eyes that made you want to give him anything he asked for. He had to be keenly aware of this when it would be so easy to let go with six others wanting your attention alone.

To make you let go. And he would be damned if would let you go, either. If he couldn’t have you, no one else would be able to either.

- - - -

Don't be a silent reader! how do you think the relationship is going to go now that you know a bit more about the relationship dynamic?

[thesarcasticside]

Anything-$00000DDD

Summary

He could have been anything. When he looked inside his own mind, he dug through darkness. Memories like ashes, the particles filling his lungs were all that were familiar to him—and those only felt like nothing. No fragments, just a fine powder.

Janus is a cyborg who works for the Dragon Witch, a criminal mastermind who runs a company that designs cybernetics.

He meets Remus, a self-taught biomedical engineer, and a variety of other robotic and alien characters, all of whom are trying to convince him that he is more than just a cybernetic puppet.

But who is “Dee” if not an empty husk created only to be controlled?

General warnings

Psychological horror, body horror, cybernetics, missing limbs, artificial limbs, Non-consensual forced medical treatment, physical abuse, blood, violence, guns, mind control, permanent amnesia, manipulation, emotional abuse, gaslighting, nightmares, streams of consciousness, unreliable narration. Content that resembles depersonalization, derealization, or dissociation

More notes, links, and chapter text under the cut

AO3 Anything, AO3 series, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18

This is my story for the 2021 Storytime! Big Bang! @ts-storytime Thank you to @ben-phantomhive-trash, who is the artist I was partnered with for the event! They created this fantastic art!!!! I love it so much I can't even.

Thank you to PunkRock for helping me figure out the shorts characters and other plot things. Also thank you to AryaSkywalker, Thembo, and Carrotflowerking17 and the Big Bang 2021 discord for additional help!!!!

This fic is an alternative entry point to my (In Other Worlds) Series. This fic happens at the same time roughly as Millennia, a companion novel. You can read this fic and then check out the rest of the series, or check out the series and then read this.

Also, I don't use Janus's actual name throughout the fic for thematic and narrative reasons. You'll see. I hope that does not put you off too much. Consider it part of the angst.

Clarification of general warnings and pairings, minor spoilers

I added the tag unreliable narrator, but I will clarify that the narrator is not actively lying to the audience. This tag relates to Janus's memory issues and the uncertainty resulting from that. tbh I would not worry too much about the events being untrue, and more be concerned about these being Janus's imperfect recollection of events.

I think this fic is a bit more violent than Millennia at times, hence I added the archive warning for violence. I still feel like a teen would be fine reading this, so I am keeping the rating Teen and Up. This fic focuses the most on what I dub psychological horror (angst, mind control, memory issues, consciousness, nightmares, etc.). I also tagged this story with disassociation, and content in this fic may resemble derealization and depersonalization.

If you think I should warn/rate this fic differently, I am happy to hear feedback and reconsider.

I tagged this as Remus/Janus, but like, ya gotta squint. Mostly banter and being soft. I love romance, but I have a hard time writing it. Could be seen as platonic too.

HINT 1: KEY.

HINT 2: "kind of" not "kinda"

CHAPTER START

NAME J. D. Dedrick ID 25:35--25:44 / 51:09 ALIENRACE Dūcesnaca OCCUPATION Robotics Researcher

Chapter Warnings cybernetics, missing/artificial limbs (eye, legs), forced medical treatment/experimentation, amnesia, depersonalization/derealization/dissociation, unreliable narration, psychological horror, swearing Chapter Characters Janus, the Dragon Witch, Virgil (not by name)

He could have been anything. When he looked inside his own mind, he dug through darkness. Memories like ashes, the particles filling his lungs were all that were familiar to him—and those only felt like nothing. No fragments, just a fine powder.

He woke up to yellow in his eyes, stinging and unfocused. Lights beyond the veil flickered. He saw a figure move; he looked small. After a brief glance into the world, he began to drown. He threw everything into the yellow encasement, and after an agonizing struggle, the rush of acceleration threw him to the ground.

When the air touched his face, black fireworks exploded in his hazy vision, and the first memory he had was gone.

He woke up again, like a corpse left in the stale air for vultures: beaks plucking out his skin piece by piece. His vision blurry and halved, he stared up at the birds breaking his body into bits.

Reports say he was involved in a huge space crash. DRACANA has generously sponsored his artificiality.

That sounded like a lie. That sort of blatant untruth where there was no connection to reality tied to it. Everything his senses told him felt unreal, everything except the pain that grounded him like a shot duck.

Whispers like gossip broke into his mind between droughts of consciousness. His senses were pieced together and broken apart, like pieces of clay in a kiln shattering. Memories of vultures and lab coats glued together by agony floated through space until eventually he was awake.

Probably just one of her business rivals

Dei’dra—he knew her name—loomed over him, to his right. He could see nothing to his left. The light stung, he squinted and blinked his eye. He could feel nothing on the left side of his face. Dei’dra smiled at him.

“Wake up, dollface. Didn’t think you’d make it, but you pulled through.”

He did not know where he was. He did not know who he was. All he knew was that this woman was Dei’dra, the Dragon Witch, and he hated her.

“Well, he seems to be doing well. Might as well put him under and move onto the next stage.”

He lived out his days creating sand sculptures in his mind. He saw himself running in place, downloading skills and targets and concepts. The sand would blow away each day, leaving him with nothing to remember them by.

Between bouts of black unconsciousness, he saw grey, and white, and pale pink, brown, and blue. Abstract shapes morphing into creatures that prodded at him. Cold metal seething, machines twisting his body together like crochet. He gave nonsense names for some, not even names consisting of words, just pure thoughts.

Slowly, he lost sight of the sand in his brain, yet the grains still dripped from his ears when he shook his head. He became a part of reality. Or perhaps he became part of a hellish dream.

Darkness huddled in the damp sides of his eyes, danger snapping at his bruised joints and soles. Deep inside his chest, his heart damned, words mixed with intuitive instincts, daring his body to live beyond the yellow veil.

Stage One of Project $DEE has been completed.

$DEE was not his name. It was what he was called. One of the words that would echo in his brain. Dee. Dee. Dee. Like a rhythm, like the beeping machines. Like the ringing of the heart monitor. It was embedded in his ears. Baby words jumping around, forming pictures, babbling him into nothing.

Dee, his brain still a desert, started to make better sense of this reality he lived in. He could control his body sometimes. He could move his arms. Or what was left of his limbs. Or what they had lent him.

The second picture in his brain, the one after the yellow veil: it was the artificial lights on Lab C’s ceiling. Grey illuminated by white, he stared up at the square tiles and textured glass, like undulating waves of melted sand.

With how long he was locked in place staring up at this picture, he memorized it. He could close his eyes at any moment and picture it in its exact detail again.

“Time to get up, Doll-face. It’s time for your first mission.”

He saw Dei’dra’s face again. He felt his restraints loosen and break away.

His first mission was not all that glorious. He was lanky, unused to moving in his body. He was a wall of meat. Disposable. He followed a trail like a zombie. He barely spoke to the team he was placed in. He remembered their orders regarding him.

“He’s still pretty out of it. Give him some good experience, but we’d like to keep working on him so bring him back in one piece.”

Dee felt like a puppet, simply put. Some machine inside him aimed his cannons and lasers. He stood in place, shooting at targets. He was guided by an invisible leash by the team he was assigned to. He saw sepia shapes. Blurs of bodies. All he could feel was the emotions in his gut telling him, repeatedly:

Youaregoingtodieyouaregoingtodieyouaregoingtodieagainyouaregoingtodiestoppleasestoppleaseyouaregoingtodiestopstopstopstopstop.

He was kept suspended in place while his body completed the mission. And then he was back in Lab C, mind clearer.

He was thinking in sentences now. He could monologue, like any great villain. That is what he had become, hadn’t he? Why a villain? Where had he learned that word? The more he sifted through the sand, the more words he could find he no longer remembered learning. They were just there, connected to nothing. No memory. No past life.

He kept thinking these words. And then he decided that since his jaw was not glued shut, he would give speaking a try. Garbled and slurred at first, he kept talking as much as they let him.

They made him run between ceilings of grey. They made him speak between illuminated square tiles. He practiced lines of a script. Subterfuge settled in his brain like a mirage in the distance between the settled sand.

He could walk on the unsteady ground once again. He could see. He could hear. He could experience the world around him. He gazed up at the ceiling but was interrupted by a splotch of dark violet.

Another blot. Another vulture. He stood there out of the corner of his artificial eye.

“What are you waiting for? Get on with the tests.” His voice sharp, cutting through his tongue.

This was an unusual time of day for tests. To say it was a time of day was generous. It was more like he would be experimented on for hours upon hours and then suddenly they would stop. Nothing to do but bask in the nothingness it brought.

At this point, Dee thought that he was done with most of the tests. He had his limbs. He had an eye, which he opened wider to get a better look at the violet blotch. Something about the blotch was connected to something else in his brain, but he could not quite place it.

“Well, whatever it is, get on with it, it certainly could not have waited until morning.”

It shuffled closer to him. Less of a blotch now. He could make out shapes. He could recognize his face now if he saw him again.

Air escaped his lungs, and then he said again, asking, “Whatever might you need from me today, doctor?”

The blotch was shaking. “If you are just here to sight-see, I am going back to sleep.” His eyes weighed heavily on his face, eyelids falling through his willpower.

“Are you… okay?”

No, I am not ‘okay’. I am ‘$DEE.’

“Do I LOOK okay? Yeah sure, I am right as rain, having a grand old time—feeling peachy, even.” At this point, the words just spiraled off his tongue and through his teeth. The blotch made a sound, and Dee’s frustration grew, the pain of today’s tests ricocheting in his body.

“If you aren’t here to run another one of your little tests, then just get out. Go tell your superior, or better yet, go tell Dei’dra to go fuck herself and leave me alone.”

And he left him alone. He wondered vaguely what that was all about. He then fell asleep.

[yel-it]

Alright I've finished Fate so here are my thoughts:

•They never should have attached Winx to it, keeping only 5 names and 2 powers the same while changing everyone's personality does not an adaptation make.

•However, they chose to do that so the whitewashing is inexcusable. The actors weren't so amazing and I'm sure they could have found Latine/Asian actors on par with Eliot's and Elisha's acting skills if not better.

•Even if you divorce Fate from OG Winx, it is still a badly written, poorly developed, bigoted, and barely cohesive show and here's why:

1) the dialogue is some of the weirdest nonsensical shit I have ever seen. The writer throws in random buzzwords and pop culture references to try and hide his clear misogyny and homophobia. I'm not sure why they hired a guy who professionally goes by Speed Weed to write the script but it was a mistake.

2) the pacing is bad, really bad. People's personalities change with no explanation or development, plot points are brought up and then dropped (Stella becomes nice all of a sudden and Dane likes Beatrix now when they've had barely any interaction and Bloom's mom becomes nice and caring, Aisha's struggles with her powers and Stella being "broken" by her mom's teaching methods are dropped and now they are totally fine.) and the show drags until you hit episode 4 and then everything happens.

3) the only developed relationship is Silva and Sky's and it is very clear that the writer's favorite is Sky since he's the only likeable character.

4) the girls didn't need to be friends at the beginning but the way they acted was weirdly catty and rude and not how anyone acts when first meeting people. Aisha and Bloom have some weird animosity throughout the entire series and the rest of the girls are... cliquey? Musa and Terra and Stella stick more together and have more interaction. There is no friend group dynamic at all and it's out of the blue when all of a sudden they're all buddy buddy and Bloom is laughing with them at her parent's house.

5) The climax was a let down with barely any loose ends tied up and I understand that there's going to be a second season but it was just kinda meh. I don't care what happens in the second season because the end is so confusing and not exciting at all.

6) The list of bigotry is long with this one.

- Racism- Black main characters are sidekicks at best with zero personality, overall even the background characters are overwhelmingly white.

-Homophobia- Riven is extremely homophobic and although Beatrix calls him out on it she still hangs out with him. I'm not even sure if Riven is bi because the "flirting" he does with Dane just seems like weird bullying. He actively mocks Dane for being bi and yet Dane still hangs around him. The optics for having your two bi characters be villains is not good though.

-Misogyny- writing girls as catty brats who aren’t nice to each other for no reason and fight over boys is a dumb misogynistic trope. Riven also constantly objectifies women and is never called out. 

-Fatphobia- bringing in a fat person for “body diversity” who is constantly belittled, barely fights back, and has no self-love arc is not as woke as you think it is Fate.

-Ableism- the concept of changelings is well known to be how autistic children were perceived way back when. Bringing this tale back and applying it to the main character, with the narrative of her being a troubled child but not autistic is... troubling? offensive? neglectful? All of the above.

In conclusion, Fate sucks as a show and was a nostalgia baiting cash grab wrapped in bigotry. If you must watch it please pirate it, but honestly it’s not worth your time.

[darling-i-read-it]

Releves

1x12

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham 

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, mental health problems 

Author’s Note: Me being angry at hannibal despite it conflicting with my plans for this series are something else 

I took lines directly from the script so some may seem familiar. Those sentences are not mine. 

Official Episode Summary : The BAU team finds evidence linking Abigail to the Minnesota Shrike victims; Will checks Abigail out of the hospital; Hannibal convinces Jack that Will is capable of murder.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

Tag List: @llperfectsymmetryll​

(not my gif) 

You woke up and Will was gone. You must have fallen asleep on the chair beside his bed. You started to panic which had become a much too familiar feeling. You got up and started to walk around. You thought about asking a doctor or something but didn’t want to worry anyone but yourself just in case it was nothing. You walked through the halls, peeking in rooms for your boyfriend who slept walked more often than not these days. You got to the room of the girl who had been under your bed and Will was inside. 

“Will?” you whispered. He turned around.

“Hi. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Dont’ worry about it.” You glanced at her. She looked so much better than you had seen her last considering. 

“I don’t think we’ve met properly,” she said. “Georgia.”

“Y/N.” 

“I’m sorry, I heard I kinda crashed under your bed.” You shook your head and laughed.

“No worries there.” You turned to Will. “You should come back to your room.” He turned to Georgia sarcastically.

“Helicopter girlfriend,” he teased.

“Yeah I wouldn’t have to be if you slept through the night,” you confessed. Georgia laughed and you grabbed Will’s pole that he was holding. He nodded and waved goodbye to her before following you out the door.

You walked out of the room and he turned to you.

“She said they would never figure out what’s wrong with me,” he whispered.

“She’s not a doctor.” He glanced at you and then the ground as he shuffled along.

“You’re optimistic.”

“I gotta me. You’re pessimistic,” you whispered teasingly as you made it back to his room. He nodded.

“So you think they’ll figure it out?” You shook your head softly.

“I hope they do. But honestly, I think you’re too complicated for them.”

-

Will woke up later to a light conversation. You were sitting on the bed and Hannibal stood at the edge of it. 

“Well it is complicated,” Hannibal was saying quietly.

“What’s complicated?” Will asked. You looked over at him and smiled comfortingly.

“Nothing.” 

“You keeping secrets now?” Will teased, sitting up.

“We were talking about how to make this soup. Y/N said she couldn’t quite cook and I was sharing the recipe,” Hannibal explained.

“He’s brought food,” you said happily.

“Smells delicious.”

“Silkie chicken in a broth. A black boned bird prized in China for its medicinal value since the 7th century. With wolfberries, ginseng, ginger, red dates and star anise,” Hannibal explained.

“You made me chicken soup,” Will said and Hannibal offered a supportive smile. 

“Y/N says you’ve been wandering.” 

“I was awake. And wandering with purpose and good intentions,” he promised. You nodded.

“Just visiting around,” you promised. 

“Visiting that unfortunate young woman suffering from delusions?”

“She’s my support group,” he joked. You hit him gently. “You are also my support group. Relax.” Will got out of bed and sat down at the table while the three of you ate the broth together. “Could all of the things have been the fever Hannibal? Like the hallucinations or the sleepwalking, the loss of time,” Will asked as he sat down.

“It’s possible.”

“What else is possible?” you asked.

“Fevers can be symptoms of dementia. Dementia can be a symptom of many things happening in your body or mind that can no longer be ignored,” Hannibal said. 

“Does Jack know?”

“That this could be a fever? No I haven’t told him,” Hannibal said.

“He wouldn’t do anything about it either,” you muttered bitterly. 

“But shouldn’t you?” Will asked. 

“I believe Y/N may be right. Additionally we don’t know for certain.” 

-

Will walked with you into the room of Georgia who you felt as though you had just spoken to. Her charred body laid across the burn tank. 

“Hospital speculates a short circuit could have ignited the fire,” Jack muttered. 

“Unit looks well maintained. No exposed wiring,” Price said.

“Don’t know if she suffocated or burned to death. We’ll look for soot in the lining of her airways,” Zeller commented. Will lets out a shaky sigh and puts his hand almost protectively on your arm.

“Horrible way to die,” he whispered. 

-

Will woke up with a start and it woke you up. It was odd not to be laying beside him but you were sitting in the uncomfortable chair beside the bed. He breathed heavily.

“Do you need something?” you whispered. Will grabbed your arm and pulled you to the bed. He wasn’t sweating and didnt’ feel hot. You wrapped your arms around him and he put his head on your chest.

“Sleep here,” he whispered. You nodded

-

The next day you walked into Abigail's room. It was the first time you had been away from Will since he had been admitted to the hospital. Hannibal had urged you to leave but not come back to work just yet although you would be back the next day.

She looked up and let out a sigh of relief.

“I thought you were Freddie,” she muttered. 

“Or Alana who is also watching you like a hawk?” you asked. She nodded. She knew you knew and that was a good thing when it came down to it. She didn't feel like she had to hide with you.

“Just anybody else,” she murmured. You walked inside and sat at the window sill with her.

“How have you been?”

“Do you know that Hannibal is in love with you and Will?” she asked. You choked on the air at the change of subject. She was a teenager. But still. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I thought it was weird when I noticed. I wanted to know if you had noticed,” she said. You shook your head.

“Will, Hannibal and I are close friends,” you said lightly.

“But you and Will are dating,” she suggested.

“Yeah so?”

“Hannibal loves the two of you as a unit I think,” she said. “I told him I thought of all of you as a weird parental group and he got oddly happy.” 

“Abigail-”

“It’s just an observation,” she whispered. “I’m fine.” You laughed at the change of tone.

“Good to hear.”

-

When you got back to the hospital Will was gone. You were notebally pissed. You walked right into the building where he worked and up to Jack Crawford's office. You could hear Will’s voice from down the hall. 

You opened the door aggressively and they both turned around. 

“Did you do this?” you asked at Jack.

“He checked himself out. I told him to go back,” he said honestly. You walked up to Will and put your hand on his forehead. Still warm but not boiling like he had been. 

“Why did you-”

“Jack thinks she killed herself. I think it’s the copy cat of Garret Jacob Hobbs.” You blinked twice. Even for Will, that was a stretch. But you trusted his instinct more than your own.

“And you can wait to catch them. It’s been this long,” you said, removing your hand. He shook his head. 

“I have to do it now. I’m thinking clearer, I’m finally thinking clearly.” His eyes pleaded but they still looked undescribingly broken. You glanced at Jack who clearly didn’t believe Will at all. “Jack also thinks Abigail had something to do with the murders.” 

“What?” 

“I’m not explaining this to you. You don't’ work for me,” Jack said.

“Neither does Will! He’s not on a payroll is he?” you asked. Jack let out a sigh.

“Will go talk to Hannibal,” Jack said simply.

“Finally something I can agree on,” you murmured.

-

Will ran up to you. It had been a few days since he released himself from the hospital and you were still annoyed about it. You turned to him, raising an eyebrow as he came out of the office of Hannibal's place. 

“The copycat,” he said. You nodded, curious to hear what he had to say. He rarely talked to you about any kind of stuff with his work. “Was planning to frame me for the murder of the doctor.”

“He wouldn’t have been able to do it. I was there,” you said.

“But you’re unreliable,” he said.

“Excuse me?” He shook his head.

“You’re my girlfriend. You would have been accused of lying,” he said. You shook your head.

“I am very reliable. Why are you telling me this?” He shrugged.

“You need to know.” 

-

First day back at work. This was a mistake.

You ran your hand over your head and Jack Crawford walked in. He thought about asking you what he was about to ask Hannibal but decided against it. 

“You don’t have an appointment,” you said bitterly.

He opened the door anyway. You were still working when Hannibal and Jack opened the door quickly. Hannibal looked at you and you thought about what Abigail had said. That he was in love with you and Will. You pushed it aside when you saw the pity in his eyes.

“Where’s Will?” he asked.

“At home. Hopefully. Why?”

“Will Graham is at Garett Jacob Hobbs house with Abigail,” Jack said. You scoffed.

“You on something?” 

“Where was Will on the night of Marrisa Schuur’s murder? ‘

“Again, at home presumably.” Hannibal stared at you. Hard. “What?” 

“Will dissociates into other personalities. Whose personality is it?” Jack asked. “Will got close enough to Hobbs to think he was him.” 

You scoffed again.

“Sorry, what the hell is your point?”

“Will is going to kill Abigail. And he killed the girls before,” Hannibal said. You stared in Hannibal’s eyes.

“You can’t be serious.” 

“I’m serious.”

“Hannibal you know him! He trusts you to know him,” you seethed, standing up from anger and audacity. You pointed a hard finger at him. “Will Graham didn’t kill anyone he didn't’ have to.”

“The evidence suggests-” Jack started

“Hey Jack, I don’t really care what you’re about to say and so if you say it I’ll have to hit you or Hannibal or something.”

“I’m going to get Abigail,” Hannibal said. Jack walked out of the room but your gaze stayed steady on Hannibal’s. 

“You don’t think he did this,” you said. 

“A statement and not a question?” You shook your head.

“He didn’t do this.”

1x13

[ladywinterwitch]

A Little Incident

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood (period), a tiny bit of worry, fluff, Seb being a sweetheart

Word Count: 1217

Summary: You’ve been dating for two months. One night, you’re peacefully sleeping together, until an unexpected incident happens.

                                            (gif not mine)

You stayed to your boyfriend’s home to sleep that night. It had become more and more frequent in the last few weeks. You and Sebastian have been knowing each other for a year by now. You met thanks to your best friend’s brother, who is one of his best friends. He organized a party for his birthday and introduced you there. You quickly became friends, and then after a few months you confessed that you had feelings for each other and never separated.That day had been a relatively calm day. You woke up to Sebastian rehearsing his new script out loud while making breakfast for the two of you. You stopped at the door, leaning on the wall nearby, a smile tugging your lips. He turned around with the paper in one hand and a plate full of pancakes in the other, freezing when he saw you. He let out a little embarassed laugh and grinned at you.

-Hey. Breakfast’s ready.- he said putting down the dish. You walked towards him placing a hand on his cheek before giving him a kiss.

-It smells amazing, thankyou.- he nods with a little smile, sitting next to you. The table already set with coffe, milk, fruit and some choccolate.

-Why all this goodies this morning?- you asked with a hint of tease in you voice. He shrugged, taking a bite of pancake into his mouth.

-Just wanted to do something nice.- you bite your lower lip, then bend a little to place a kiss on clothed shoulder.

-You always do.-

-

The rest of the day went smoothly, you worked from home on your computer and Sebastian went out in the morning and came back in the late afternoon for dinner. You dined together and then watched an episode of The Handmaid’s Tale before going to bed.

You felt a little headache but you didn’t bother too much. You were just happy to go to bed really. So you went under the covers, cuddled with Seb for a few minutes and then you fell into a slumber.

At some point you woke up because you had to pee, but as far as you were a little more lucid, you feel wetness on the bed under you. You freeze and turn to look at Sebastian, which was giving you his back, still deeply asleep.

You frown in confusion and as delicatetely as possible you put aside the sheets and open your legs to investigate, but obviously it was too dark to see. You take your phone from the nightstand turning on the torch. Horror invaded you when you saw a quite big spot on the sheets. You touched it and your digits were coloured with red, confirming your fear.

-Fuck.- you mouthed a curse, then you got up and thinking quickly you opened one of the dresser’s drawers and grabbed a pair of Sebastian’s black boxers and ran to the bathroom. Your period went about ten days early and you weren’t prepared. You washed yourself and your hands and thanked whoever God above that it was hot enough to sleep in just your panties and T-Shirt (Sebastian’s actually, but still) so you didn’t get your sweatpants dirty. Which couldn’t be said for your cotton cream panties.

You opened the sink and left them soaking there just enough time to take out from your bag the emergency pad and then putting on your grey sweatpants. While you washed the panties with soap you started to panic a bit. What preoccupied you was Sebastian’s reaction. How would he react? Was he going to be an asshole? Did he never wanted to see you anymore? Would he be disgusted with you?

But you had to tell him. At least to let you take off the blood dirty sheets to wash them or take them to the laundry the next day. You winced, already starting to feel the sharp pain in your lower belly. You took a deep breath and went to wake up Sebastian.

You squatted down in front of him and called his name softly, after a few tries you added a hand on his cheek, almost feather light like. He sighed softly and then opened his eyes, as soon as he saw your face he straightened up grabbing your arm calmly. He turned the bed lamp on.

-Hey honey, what’s wrong?- he whispered still half asleep. You spontaneously begin to sob as he turns the light on and gets up from the bed to hug you close, now fully awake. -I..I’m sorry I didn’t mean to…it’s so gross..let me just wash it please or maybe I could- he had a confused look. He stopped and shushed you gently. -What are you talking about? What happened?- then he looked down and rose and eyebrow. -Weren’t you in those cute lace panties before?- -That’s the problem! I…had a little accident.- you blush furiously hugging yourself in a protective manner, your cry almost gone. He tilts his head on the side in that cute way of his, furrowing his brows.

-Did you pee yourself…?- she shook her head vigorously. -No..for God’s sake I’m not ten! I.. it came a lot earlier than it was supposed to…- she cut it off hoping he would understand. He looked at her side of the bed and saw the ugly red stain. -Oh… - then he returned quickly to look at her, placing one hand to her cheek and the other on her waist. -I’m not really an expert, but that seems like a lot. Are you alright?- he spoke carefully and searched for her gaze. -That’s kinda normal, really. And yes, I’m okay. Just really embarassed.- she said lowly, an almost invisible smile playing on her lips. He huffed out a breath and craddled her cheek.

-You were scared to tell me about something that it’s not only natural, but that you couldn’t even control? Love, I couldn’t care less about the sheets. I care about you. And speaking of, are you alright? You need anything?- he asked again. She tried to suppress her smile. His reaction was the best she could’ve hoped for honestly. But thinking about it, it wasn’t. She should’ve expected it from him, he’s too good and caring to behave like like an ass. And far too intelligent.

-Something for the pain, maybe an aspirine? I assume you don’t have ibrupofen. And also to take off those goddamn sheets, I can’t stand to see them I swear to God.- he chuckled. He went to the kitchen to get her the pill and a glass of water, meanwhile she started to take off the pillows, the bed covers and finally those damned sheets. Luckly enough the blood didn’t get past the mattress. She put everything in the shower, then he arrived and helped her get new sheets on and the rest of the things back in place.

She thanked him for the medicine, swallowed it and put the glass on the nightstand. Sebastian was already back under the covers, lights off, facing her. She layed down giving him one last kiss, then turned so he could spoon her. He wrapped an arm around her and started to rub his warm hand on her lower belly.

-Mmh..thankyou for understanding.- she murmured. He placed a little kiss on the back of her neck and responded -Don’t thank me. Now rest. Goodnight love.-

-G'night baby.-

Hi. I melted writing this. And also got WAY too high expectations in men, joke’s one me. Anyway, hope you liked it. If you did feel free to let me know

[incarnateirony]

"The real Sam and Dean" sure does point to the main world being there *before* Chuck, doesn't it? Interesting. God can't create souls (like the show has told us for YEARS), so, yeah, WTF are the people in the other universes? WHAT ARE SOULS???? (Lesser question, what is Grace? God's attempt at making souls? Since he made the angels? DOES CAS HAVE A SOUL?) 🤯

Wow multi part thing here

1. Not necessarily but I’ll expand on that.

2. Other souls even in similar bodies? Soulless constructs and duplicates like Gabriel’s grace worlds? (seems less likely with AU Bobby and Charlie). I’m going to go with an educated guess of “other souls in identical meatsuits” for now, expanded on more in the post below.

3. There’s also an answer for that, but no, not really souls.

4. IMO yes, and I can expand on why I believe Cas does.

—

So bundling an answer to all of these.

I’m going to need you to break your brain a little on this, dear reader. I know it’s difficult for some people, and some are just now even coming to grips with the idea that Chuck’s world is a simulacrum to the point I’ve seen based people belatedly go, verbatim, through the same existential crisis Dean spewed at Cas in 15.2. It’s gonna take some nonlinear thinking from here.

Let’s talk about, say, The Empty. What is Nothing? I want you to think about that. 

Congrats, you’ve already failed.

The second you try to define oblivion, you fail. We can try to speak it as closely as possible, but oblivion before creation is itself a paradox. It is timeless, shapeless, colorless – best depicted, perhaps, by a black screen to communicate the idea to the human mind, or sometimes a white one, but people tend to affiliate that with light, rather than the absence of light; so a starkly lit (on actors) black background is our most efficient way to do it. But realistically? Black doesn’t exist yet. White doesn’t exist yet. Light nor dark exist. Nothing is there.

And yet somehow, Nothing birthed Everything.

This is the paradox humans struggle with eternally. The idea of the Big Bang, for example, still comes down to there being an infinitely dense mass that asplodied at some point and everything just kinda raveled itself together from there. Where did the dot come from in nothing? What is the dot? What is this paradox of Nothing Making Everything?

Hermetics propose, essentially, various grades of creation. Depending on the denomination and thought form this may manifest several ways at the upper levels, “Chicken or the Egg” as SPN death put it. Some will say death itself birthed creation and life, for example. Others say it’s a direct result of the human soul, and others say it’s grace.

Real familiar to our current Atomic Monsters, isn’t it?

So anyway, what I’ve been seeing out of SPN since about S13 is that souls themselves, in our structure, are the paradox of creation. After all, there was a “Before God, or Amara”, so how did God simply come to be? Good question, ain’t it?

So let’s take a look at the Shadow. Hermetics variably address The Inky Man or The Shadow (as Jung himself was part of the art) as a primitive aspect of the self, and also address the concept of a sort of group mind, a collective unconscious from which we all come and go, a First Man, or sometimes addressed as Anthropos, the collective spirit of man.

So The Thing That Rules The Empty, The Shadow, existed before God and Amara. God is Light. Amara is the absence of Light.

But God is also Grace. And The Word.

Does it really matter, respectively, how he branded his stuff? He might call it gak in another world for all we know. But Grace is the essence by which Chuck *does* create.

So let’s do another mental exercise here: If one were to remove all human souls from any of Chuck’s constructs, what makes them any different than the realms Gabriel makes where people mindlessly follow scripts he wrote? What makes them any different than the headspaces archangels have shoved their hosts down into? Or the place Sam went to inside his own head in Man Who Knew Too Much that was an entire expansive world, even with a few random hiccups here or there in it?

Chuck installed the world with aspects of himself to keep it tick tick ticking if he offworlded. I’m going to guess he had an oopsie or two in random worlds before he figured that one out KSJDfksjdf but that’s an aside.

But angels are tied to the divine spheres, and to grace. They were given minds and consciousness, but not souls. He can’t create nor control those, after all. And while in almost any form of study the mind is capable of Doubt and Question with or without a soul, I mean, plugging an angel with an installed soul just seems like a super bad idea.

After all, they are wavelengths of intent. HIS intent. They are the editors of his story that keep it running in lines. They are arbiters and heralds of his messages. They are the programs in the matrix that keep it running, until they corrupt and unplug from the central code and then fuck off into the operating system with the rest of people, even if they can never LEAVE the operating system. Except Cas. Cas can. Which I’ll address below.

“What is grace?” Well, we’ve been using storywriting metaphors in canon this year. Grace is the page on which the ink is set. The Word is the letters etched into it. Collectively, with some imagination, the end product, especially when run through your editors, is a complete and fairly cohesive story, with arguable interpretation of validity or merit.

So you’re probably realizing I haven’t really explained *how* then God or Amara came to be, yet.

Okay, so let’s think Big Bang, metaphysical edition. There was absolutely jack shit all nothing that defines our reality, be it light, dark, space, time, dimension, much less material or immaterialism. But somehow, at some point, Nothing woke up and went “Dafuq?” and then all kinds of shit happened. For example, it might have even Dafuqed its own paradoxical nature and birthed duality in it, of Presence and Absence. These, then, would be Light and Dark. So now, there’s Nothing Dafuqing and just wanting to go back to napping/not fucking existing alone, and then two ancient things crop up out of nowhere. And with the Shadow all but absent, they only have themselves and each other.

So Chuck builds his toy soldiers and Amara destroys them as his antithesis. But what does he build his stuff from? 

Grace as a word even falls into several hermetic constructs as one of these cornerstones. If Grace is the page Chuck writes on, and his thoughts/intent are The Word, the result is that what he imagines is what is to become. Be that good or “evil”, though we find now just like in hermetics that evil isn’t really a thing, as much as the absence of good, and the absence of good comes with the absence of a soul.

So now we’ve got Chuck making a library of things trying to find something okay enough to do in non-eternity. After all, he can hop worlds, revert time, go when and wherever he wants, make whatever place he wants to go to, come up with spiderturtleducks if he gets bored enough, what the fuck ever. I totes have it on good sources that there was a universe somewhere with turtlemonkeys with eight arms. Don’t @ me.

Either way, hopefully that clarifies the idea of “What is Grace?”; the page was first proverbial, but made literal and manifest in the world defined out of the nothing, and by Grace are all things made, and by the Word all is known. 

The idea of Anthropos, the Inky Man, or The Shadow – the First Man, the Great Adam, whatever the fuck any given denomination’s term is for it – varies slightly in perennial thought. Our humanistic show, however, and all signs seem to be pointing to an interpretation in which the shadow predates them and yet doesn’t in this ambiguous time space. It is simply a shadow of a place that did and didn’t exist yet at that point.

And that paradox is, very likely – I’d call it a *very educated theory based on the theology that inspires our mytharc* – what defines humanity. 

So am I saying humans don’t even exist? Absolutely not. But they are the thing outside of and beyond creation while living in it, from which we do not truly understand the idea of in eternity if you believe in it. But whether it’s gnostic thoughts that say god like threw man into the universe and trapped him in a machine, bodies included; or the hermetic one where the forefather yearned for a meaning to its nonexistence, and by it made the demiurge we call YHVH or Chuck, respectively, in SPN – and by it found a world to fall in love with and fall into, much as angels fall into man – perennial thought aligns with humans being something far and beyond this cage, and the show supports it, as the most sought powersource that could even end God Himself – as the thing he can neither create nor destroy, just shove in boxes – as the thing he can not control.

Humans are a paradox in definition, and that paradox seeks a meaning to life, and in it, it essentially – by a chain of progress, mind you – creates the world. After all, He Who Has The Most Souls Are Become God, am I incorrect on SPN canon here? Be that S6/7 Cas’ Big Mistake (including not making any sort of chambers of contentment to keep them from fighting back, no leviathan mental headbars, no greatest hits of heaven tucked inside of him), or them recalling this in 15.3 /from two directions/ and by which Rowena became the authority in hell even after Cas beat the shit out of Belphegor to stop HIM from becoming that kind of king – if Chuck didn’t have souls, would he even actually have power? And why else throw men, now forgotten of their source and thrown into bodies, into places like heaven and hell? In hell human souls that went against Chuck’s will destroy each other until they lose their light; if Chuck can’t destroy them, let them destroy each other. In heaven, like in MichaelDean’s headbar, they’re given contentment and also cease fighting back. They don’t return to a source, they don’t amass, they’re carefully segregated and processed.

So anyway back to the Shadow. I’ve mentioned the hermetic ideas of Nous I and Nous II. They’re both God in a way, but completely independent beings. Nous II is what people commonly think of with “God.” The christian god, the creator of the universe, but also a spiteful god by his own words, in the bible itself. To many christians it’s even sacrilege to think of there being anything before God, he created the universe so clearly he yelled FIRST and licked it or whatever, and That’s That. But Nous I is the Forefather, the Shadow I’ve spoken of. And while it doesn’t necessarily dictate the world, it also manifests forward as Anthropos to experience the world.

If there was a collective vat of souljuice in oblivion, and those pieces fell into bodies by force or choice, it is the development of the id, ego, superego, and general self that then defines who we become as individuals. Until “The real Sam and Dean” line I was in conflict, wondering how the AU selves sorted out in mechanics. It seemed in conflict with the very nature of individual souls for them to be simultaneously across worlds but pent up in heavens. But then the answer became simple and remained true to form: we are what we make ourselves, and bond with who makes us complete as a great work that help us master ourselves. The very idea of mastering ourselves, however, is one of great relativity as we are, in the end, just trying to find a meaning to our existence, or nonexistence, or whatever else even if it’s by running through a matrix in a million billion parts that become a million billion different people with different stories, experiences, relationships, personalities all subject to it, but in the end, souls find each other, especially partner souls. 

I hate the term soulmates, really. In the scale of it, it’s more like a 10000000000000000000000000 (or infinite) piece soul puzzle, but some pieces click together more than others and by it we find better selves.

*takes in a deep breath*

So aNyWaY

I still haven’t answered why I feel Cas has a soul, but it required getting that proposal out of the way first, and it’s simple really: minding what I’ve said, anyone notice anything? The Shadow didn’t reflect Lucifer. It didn’t reflect soulless Jack (though it did try to communicate with a creepy smile which lends me to believe there’s a smol soulspark left in Jack to compliment him touching Mary’s name on the table), it didn’t reflect Death. It only reflected Castiel. And in the end… Why Are You Awake? Nothing in the history of Ever has woken up here. You’re outside of the book. There is no book. Why is this page floating around in my Nothingspace, get the fuck out, stop littering.

The entire construct of this breaks out that existential crisis in fandom as much as Dean – does that mean none of this is real? No. Dean answered that in 5.18 long ago, even if he reflected his own words in his fear, terror, and panic.

You want to know what’s real? People. Families.

Nothing about our lives is real.

We are.

Castiel never forgot the reason he fell for Dean, that fateful day, and that fateful discussion. Chuck’s machinations are nothing new to Cas. Cas used to be part of that machine himself really.

How, exactly, he acquired a soul is a whole other topic for another post which has never been answered overtly, but it was either developed on or before the season 8 finale when Metatron referenced it. This later is augmented by the Shadow and by Cas NOT recognizing what it feels like to lose a soul and instead deferring to Sam for the experience, meaning he probably didn’t entirely lose it which also removes some of the old alien stick-in-assedness. There’s plenty of material that could be read as Cas having a soul, but the one that SCREAMS to me the most is The Big Empty, for entire like… cosmogenic construct reasons.

Hermeticism addresses the idea of three principles that, while they have many names, boil down to Mind, Body, and Soul. Soul is the Prima Materia, the essence by which All Things Come, even Mind and Body, and Mind and Body return to Soul and build them as well in this paradox. But the soul creates the prime material, and the mind perceives the material, which then becomes the body. This can be the literal human body or the idea of physical creation as a whole, eg, body of the world. The soul and mind are beyond these things and exist without them, even if the soul and mind are developed and fostered into individuals by the experiences they gain in this manufactured reality.

After all, Eileen’s ghost wasn’t suddenly Hearing, even though it’s not a matter of blown out eardrums anymore. We can just handwave it and say it’s being politically correct, which it also is, and bless them for it – but also, her mind and by proxy soul never really grew and perceived the idea of Sound as defined by the Created Universe as part of her experience. After all– sight, sound, smell, touch, taste – these are all things defined within our universal bubble. We can enjoy the trip through these worlds and learn from them and make memories and meanings, but … there’s no reason to “fix” that. Eileen was her own complete person as she was, hearing or not.  WHY would her ghost even know what it means to Hear? 

Why can cas, theoretically just a program, wake up in oblivion? Humanity. For agent smith to leave the matrix he had to corrupt and acquire a human body. But the perennial thought aligned with matrix symbolism makes that synonymous with a soul.

Cas has a soul.

So bigassed long answer but yeah– hopefully that– answered everything?

When it comes to id, ego, superego, etc– or in older hermetics shadow, animus, anima, self – I tried to break down the show’s use of it, and constructed realities, in this video here. Watch it a few times if you have to. It also includes both primitive shadow and individual shadows as well as Animus (the masculine ego, with daddy issues reflected through their designated archangels) or Animus (the more evolved feminine superego, as given to us by Dumah/Sam’s bartendress [same actress–] or Pamela).

Y’all are probably sick to death of me plugging that but I swear to god if you watch it through and think, even after a few attempts, you’ll start getting it – and what parts you don’t, just send me an ask like this.

And mark my words. Just as Cas figured out both the Empty and Michael were full of shit, the look he had after Rowena declared She Took It tells me he’s going to be key, if not THE key, in their resolution, mirroring her choice. Fight me. Which is one of the many topics I addressed in the new video (including divine masculine vs feminine, paths, lessons, the phases of awakening [black/shadow, white/animus, yellow/anima, red/self], whatever)

On an aside, I might propose dreamwalkers, born on identical days in different worlds, and able to travel across them, may actually somehow share a soul while living duplicitous lives and sharing experiences, but that’s a whole other can of worms.

But if Chuck built himself into the Body of the World to keep it together, well. It’s his one weakness, sure. But also the world itself on removal. Now the real question is how much of this TFW as parents, Cas especially, is going to let fall on Jack. Because they can’t be like the forebearers that made their cursed paths. chuck may be the key but he does not need to be the answer, these are not the same. So yeah, I’m still stuck on my Goddess/Empress-unbirthing-in-Binah-to-make-the-new-aeon spec. Hell, maybe it really just takes unplugging Chuck and sieging heaven and loosing all the souls in a giant rebellion, sure, but what then retains the balance? I’d stare into the camera, but I’m too busy looking at Cas.

It’s worth noting that depending on denomination, the variables may change in this; eg, Chuck and Amara as thoughts spawned from the Empty also mean a Return To God is completion in some Hot Takes, which would be for example going to heaven, whereas Amara removes them from chuck’s light/creation and theoretically drops them back To Live As One within, say, the Shadow again. But our structure does not seem to be pointing to the read of Joining God In Heaven As The Big Goal as much as I Am Become God.

[sol1056]

git along little nonnies

Got a whole bunch of you on related themes, so I’m just gonna do this all at once: a bunch of questions about DW, spinoffs, merchandise, business, management, support (and protest) and whatnot. In no particular order.

Ok there are petitions and peaceful boycotts directed at DW but problem is they aren’t addressing the EPs and things they, not DW, did so how are we to sign them, how to handle this when this could at best confuse the situation and not give any results and at worst, make matters even worse about what we want regarding DW addressing things? 

Here’s what companies care about: money. Everything else is gravy.

If you want a corporation to pay attention to your complaints, then you need to figure out their sources of income, and find a way to threaten that. If the social reprobation is high enough, damage to the brand can translate into lost sales, but the tempest required to make that happen must be much, much larger than anything I’ve seen the fandom manage. 

I’ve been saying this all along: voices are far more powerful than signatures. If twenty thousand people wrote or called in, and said what they liked vs what upset them, that would have a far greater impact. Certainly a lot more than a list of names with no emotion beyond a request that may not even be something DW can, or would, fulfill.  

And don’t even get me started on mailing stuff in. Cute, but hardly actionable.  

Do you know what kind of contracts DW sign, as in, are they obligated to air all seasons, can they choose not to air them, do the companies they work with (netflix, wep) have a say or more say than them? Who gets the last word? Is airing all seasons squarely on DW or more? 

As I’m not a corporate lawyer employed by any of the signatories, I can’t tell you what the contract stipulated. What I can tell you is that a contract of the magnitude of the DW-WEP-Netflix agreement probably had a dissertation worth of riders covering the different types of possible defaults or breaches, and the penalties for each. Additionally, the contract also likely covered what constituted ‘satisfactory delivery’ of the product. 

To take it down to a really simple level: you place an order at a restaurant. You expect to get it, eat it, and pay for it. You don’t expect to be told, “hey, we burnt your steak and we’re out of butter for your sweet potatoes, so have some green beans instead,” and then be told you still owe the full amount, anyway. 

Netflix wouldn’t settle for ordering (and paying for) something never delivered, anymore than you would. Sure, any corporation worth their over-inflated stock options would try --- but that’s the point of contracts, to make sure they can’t. 

Netflix paid, DW delivers, end of story.  

 ...do you think ppl in charge didn't think EPs would tell they made changes and also thought they'd manage to bury it? And then they got in trouble and DW is going thru changes for that reason? -waves at DW goings on and silence.

I got lost in all the pronouns, there. Who’s the first ‘they,’ the EPs or DW execs? Is the second ‘they’ referring to the same as the first? So... I’m not really sure what you’re positing, but if the ‘DW is going through changes’ is implying DW’s got a shakeup and/or is promoting its head-of-TV to president and that’s somehow connected to two newbie EPs screwing up?

I’d say the chances are so infinitesimal as to be nearly in the negative. (I should also note, the press release listed successful shows Cohn oversaw, yet oddly did not include VLD.) DW is not a three-person start up; it has stakeholders and a board and a C-suite to satisfy. Cohn got that promotion ‘cause she’s got a track record going back thirty years, most recently growing DW’s TV division from 8 to 800 in five years. 

Most corporations tend to announce their new CEO or President like someone woke up that morning and went, hey, I’ve got a great idea. Truth is, it’s usually in the works for at least a year, sometimes several years, or more. The only thing that has me side-eyeing the announcement is the silence around who’ll fill Cohn’s previous position. 

But that’s again less to do with a single series, and more to do with what it says about DW as a whole, business-wise. 

What meaningful changes could the new president Margie Cohn make that would be different than the last one? Also I'm sorry if your getting a bunch of Voltron/DW questions lately, you just seem to be the most knowledgeable person on this platform.

I’d be willing to bet I’m far from the most knowledgeable person; I’m just someone not bound by an NDA, and curious enough to do a bit of digging and jaded enough to talk about (most) of what I find. 

A president can have immense impact on a company’s direction; that’s kinda why they exist, to set that high-level strategy. That said, Cohn will be bound by all contracts signed by her predecessor. The TV side (barring someone filling the shoes she left) will probably continue as it was. The theatrical side (which she’s taking over) will be where we’ll probably see any major changes. 

And even those aren’t likely to be on films currently in production. Hell, given theatrical animation can take up to five years, I’m not sure that’d show much change, either. Look instead to changes in investors, new deals, and new properties. 

What do you think DW will do about a sequel if there’s really no bible? Theres tons of plot holes & abandoned storylines. VLD will never feel satisfying, and fans already argued with different interpretations based on conflicting content, without a nice satisfying explanation...

I know this is the first of a three-part ask, but I’m skipping the rest because the only answer possible is to your very first question: the bible doesn’t matter. 

Any new series --- even a continuation --- will construct its own bible. Same as we’d do in fandom: they’ll patch together what they can, fill in blanks as they need, and gloss the rest, or retcon it outright. Even if there were a bible, diligently followed, that doesn’t mean the next series is automatically beholden to it. Some franchises would care (ie Star Wars) while others might let a reboot mess with the details (ie Star Trek). 

For every continuation, there’s gradations in between, since otherwise what’s the interest for creative minds, if you’re obligated to follow someone else’s script exactly? So, no. The absence of a story bible doesn’t preclude the next iteration making its own, as it needs, to whatever extent it requires. 

I was wandering around the hot topic online store, and i noticed a shirt that raised a few flags and questions. it's the 'Voltron Location' shirt. it has all the paladins in different places in a star globe chart thing? with what might possibly be planet designations. plus Lance is the only one not inside his blue colored bubble. Keith is in Red and Shiro in Black again. it's interesting at least.

Nearly all the shirts use the same base images, just changed up. It feels a little like someone handed a designer a half-dozen images with a request for forty-something designs --- and now HT is just throwing them all at the wall to see what sticks (or sells). 

HT’s stuff has been pretty consistent, from what I’ve heard: Shiro is Black, Keith is Red, etc. Considering the t-shirts seem to be selling out regularly (along with various other sidelines), I’d say someone is savvy as to the fact that the segment of fandom spending the most money is also the segment that prefers the S1/S2 lineup. 

If that’s what customers want, it’s smart business for DW to provide.

(Yes, that applies on more than one level.)

There are VLD comic books being released by LionForge Comics, are those considered canon? Do LM and JDS have any involvement? They take place before Season 7and8 but I don't wanna support the original EPs.

Every fandom has its own stand on what counts as canon. Sometimes (especially with adaptations) you’ll find fandoms being explicit as to whether they’re book or movie (ie HP and LotR). I expect the same will eventually shake out in VLD’s fandom, too. 

From everything I’ve heard, Hedrick and Iverson were handed the comics and ran with it. I suppose that would argue for seeing the comics as canon, being they were written by people also writing the main series... but from what I can tell, it’s one-way. The show affected the comics, but nothing in the comics ever affected the series.

That said, your purchases have nothing to do with the original EPs. All you’re doing is telling DW you like the VLD-iteration of Voltron.

What are your thoughts on the final vld poster? I feel like it’s missing the end. Allura is randomly staring back into nothing.

It’s a clever idea to do a poster for each season, but it’s not something I’ve ever paid any attention to, really. If it were drawn by the head writer? That might mean the artist had more insight than, say, a storyboarder or animator. But even then... cool picture, still not-canon. I’m only interested in canon.

Do you think that Voltron was rushed purposely by the EP's. [...] Wouldn't this effect the quality of, well, everything? I feel as if they got frustrated with the show at that point and just wanted out.

Dude. There are times I sit here and just stare into space, bewildered yet again not just at the thought of 39 episodes released in one year --- but doing that with 26 as a last-minute cut-and-paste rearrangement. All I can tell you is that what I’ve seen from animation people and aficionados (and friends) is that three full seasons in one calendar year is just bonkers. 

If DW hadn’t wanted the schedule that packed, the EPs aren’t the ones getting the say. That’s a DW-Netflix thing. I really wonder whether DW used VLD as a guinea pig. TH went a year between S1 and S2, and the numbers slumped badly. Perhaps DW wanted to know if more episodes, more often, would keep fan interest high? DW has experienced execs, but they’re all from broadcast; how you arrange and time things in the brave new world of binge-watching is a completely different beast. 

So, it’s possible it was less of a rush job to get the show out, and more from a desire to see what'd happen to release so much, so close together. 

I still think it’s a bonkers schedule, though.

"Relaunch the whole property" sounds like they won't continue expanding the whole vld universe and they'll make a new itineration. Though if they do a spin-off it'd likely be on the vld universe surrounding the new "Legendary Defenders" from the epilogue. And "especially given the response" do you think after the negative response from s8, wouldn't be better for WEP to not keep working with Dreamworks? Or maybe they need to clean their brand from vld fiasco? What can you say about all of this?

I can say you might try re-reading, because boy is that a radical interpretation of the text. Remember, Jeremy was speaking before S8, and all indication is that he was caught off-guard as much as the fans. Re-read in light of Jeremy (at the time) appearing to expect S8 to be a crowd-pleaser.   

...I'm becoming more confident in my belief that DW has something planned for Voltron. I mean they are still heavily promoting the show, LionForge is still publishing Voltron comics, and merchandise is still being made. These don't seem like the actions of a company trying to get people to forget a show. 

You’re not wrong. Up to the last few days of 2018, DW gave every indication they wanted S8 quietly buried. Nothing they’ve done since has fit that pattern --- including the anomaly of failing to announce their 2019 series. Something is going on, that’s for certain. 

Did DW really just throw the VAs to the wolves [for] three days? and there's still no official stance? One panel was enough. They had [the VAs] take the heat for them? But thankfully fans felt sorry for them? Which could also have been the goal, shut the fans up [with] the VAs of the characters who got the worst treatment and who love their characters ... Yes DW this really makes me trust you /sarcasm/

I don’t think that was the original plan. Let’s pretend DW released its 2019 schedule via press release in the first few days of January, and among those was an announcement of a VLD sequel or spinoff, coming late 2019. 

People wouldn’t be fussing over putting the VAs through three panels. They’d be complaining we didn’t get the biggest room for every panel. The majority of the fandom doesn’t trust the EPs, and is wary of DW --- really, the only ones who retain any goodwill, at this point, are the VAs. So who better than to assure a nervous fandom about the goodness of the second iteration than the VAs whose characters were most shafted by the first iteration?

What breaks this is that immediately after S8 dropped, Josh and Kimberly went silent on twitter. AJ slipped into passive-aggressive snarking; Jeremy fell off the radar and usually he’s pretty interactive with his fans. Bex pretty much wiped  VLD from her stream, possibly including deleting older tweets. Neil tried to engage and made a hash of it, bless his heart. 

Josh and Kimberly are consummate professionals who reliably promote the series after every season drop, but their radio silence continued for almost two weeks. This wasn’t the first season that came saddled with controversy; if there was a time to go quiet, it was after S7. Something else was going on. 

I have strong suspicions backed by research, but if I’m right, I’d be stepping on a major legal landmine. In the interest of not getting blown up, I’ll only say that the VAs appearing for those three panels (and their low-key and mostly diplomatic hedging around VLD’s conclusion) was a good sign that all parties involved are willing to work things out.   

[DW was] quick to handle the Season 7 backlash and have stayed mum on what is arguably a much worse reaction to the 8th and final season.

and

I believe the S8 of voltron we got was not the original ending we were supposed to get and highly edited. My question is why? What was the point of changing the original ending? [The] radio silence from DW and the cast is driving me nuts. I wish DW would make a statement.

DW is in an interesting place. Its TV side is barely five years old, but dominated by execs with long-time broadcast experience, predating vibrant interactivity afforded by platforms like twitter, tumblr, or instagram. DW’s background as a theatrical company also seems to incline it away from any ongoing engagement with the audience. It releases a movie and by the time that hits theaters, DW is onto the next thing. 

It’s a strong contrast with production studios like Zagtoon (Miraculous), who penned an open letter to their fandom about production delays. Or little studios like Wonderstorm (The Dragon Prince) whose deft use of twitter and tumblr sets their brand apart. Or Federator (Castlevania), with their witty marketing campaigns and willingness to engage with fans. Even Disney was willing to be open about its errors with Tiana, and to make clear how it was striving to do better --- so there’s no excuse that only small studios do such outreach.

My guess is that DW's core leadership is from the school of business in which admitting a mistake is tantamount to ritual suicide. Don’t blink first, or maybe the rule is never let them see you sweat, but whatever it is, DW is turning into a textbook case of how silence can damage a brand. 

Companies have multiple avenues to reach customers directly, now. Our modern technologies are a two-way street, and good companies leverage that to create not passive fandoms but active communities. It takes work, careful planning, and some level of transparency --- something old-school execs find highly uncomfortable, to be honest --- but in this day and age, those are crucial building-blocks to achieving any kind of audience loyalty.

DW isn’t going to render itself obsolete (at least not overnight), but it's on a track to end up as the studio whose work audiences only watch when there’s nothing better being offered. Unfortunately for DW, there’s a hell of a lot of other studios out there, and they're all offering something better. 

[smolbeandrabbles]

Sway Pt.1 - Danny Rayburn x Reader (Bloodline)

Here / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6  / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

Author’s Note: Hello! Welcome to my first Tumblr published Fanfic! (Please be gentle!!) I’ve written many before, I’ve just not been this brave... I’m kinda proud of this one.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the OC. I have watched one episode of Bloodline but before I started watching I read a lot. This could be inaccurate. You have been warned. Could I have watched more before writing, Yes. But I hope you know how it feels to start something and be unable to stop...! Also, my knowledge of Miami consists of one trip.

Premise: This is what happens when you watch Dirty Dancing 2 AND start Bloodline all in one day!!(Then listen to some Camila Cabello) You meet Danny in a bar intent on having a good time and leaving. He has other ideas.

Word Count: 7097 (I cannot write short, you’re in this for the long haul.)

Warnings: Sex is discussed/hinted at. (Cannot write smut to save my life!) drinking. one night stand. 

 Y/N = Your Name. She doesn’t really have much of a description but she is loosely based on an OC of mine. (hence, tattoo.) We’ll see how it goes and I might be brave enough to sequel...

It was only just a little slow dancing, Just a little romancing on a Friday night We shared some drinks, yeah, only a couple But it sure wasn't nothing that would change my life

---

Friday – 11:30pm – Little Havana, Miami

If there was one thing you loved it was the Cuban bars you could find down in Little Havana… you may have lived in uptown Miami (with the lifestyle to suit) but something about your roots always pulled you back here. It was the way they danced, you guessed. The seedy little clubs here where they held each other too close… and it was too hot and exactly everything you loved. You knew that you could easily be the Queen in any of them, but you never had a King. It didn’t really matter to you, you could light the room on fire alone, with all eyes on you as you moved your body in all the right ways to the music. On occasion men would at least try to dance with you – but you knew you had a reputation, and that scared a lot of them off. Tonight you were fine alone, you needed to dance off a hard work week and both your friends were at some swanky uptown champagne party you had not been invited too, nor had the patience for, you were content to dance the night away man or no.

Unbeknownst to you, you had caught the attention of one man in the room. Well, more than just one man, but everyone else was looking to make the move at the right moment… he was only looking to make a move. Danny Rayburn didn’t often come to Little Havana, but tonight was a night he just wanted to get away from everything about Miami he knew and get into something else. Maybe even literally. He was glad that he did, leaning against the bar, beer in hand, he watched her own that dance floor. There wasn’t even much space in here, or room to breathe in the hot smoky atmosphere but she commanded that floor like the Queen she likely was. He pressed his tongue against the corner of his mouth as he watched her… Fuck… That dress hugged her so tight it might as well have been painted on; the plunge at the front also meant it left little to his imagination… He was content to watch her all night from here, if he didn’t want to put his hands all over her instead. He took another gulp of beer and pushed through the crowd, all eyes on you.

When he put his hands on you, you felt yourself smirk, gliding over your dress, across your waist and your hips, pulling your body into his, your back was flush against his chest. He ground his hips into yours with more confidence than even some of the men who danced with you regularly had. You placed your left hand over his, to direct the way he wandered; better to let him know who was really in control of this situation. Turning your head you were met with piercing blue eyes, you felt your breathing hitch at how intensely he stared… Whatever you expected, the man staring back at you was not it. You ran your hand through his hair, thick and long enough for you to tangle your fingers in it, pulling him closer to you – which he clearly didn’t mind at all; pulling you tighter against him if that was even possible. His grip was strong, but it didn’t bother you – sometimes they bothered you – he felt safe, safer than anyone in this bar had ever made you feel. You let his hand go, and you knew almost horrifically that you trusted this man – you let him lead you, lead your body, you wanted him to touch you. It wasn’t just the atmosphere that was hot anymore, you could feel your heart beat quicken as he grazed your skin. His rhythm was intoxicating and all you wanted to do was breathe him in. Unlike the way your parents danced, classically trained as they were – despite your fathers’ ancestry – you and him were locked in an embrace and a dance that would not need you to move across the floor. That was the point; you could be the centre of attention without moving an inch… Your breathing hitched again as his hands moved lower than they perhaps should have, you meant to give him a warning look – but you knew you didn’t at the way he touched his forehead to yours. You knew his effect on you; but quickly you realised you were effecting him – he was taking breaths that matched yours and the look in his eyes, no longer piercing but dark, lustful. You felt your cheeks heat up because this dance was no longer an act. This was a few layers of clothes away from being about something else entirely… You bit your lip and felt yourself smile. This evening was going to end up being significantly longer than you had ever wanted it to be.

“We should get out of here…” His eyes flicked from your eyes to your lips and back, and then he grinned, as if you had just read his mind.

** 

Saturday - 10am – Danny’s Apartment, Miami.

He was probably still just a little drunk when he woke. The clocked flashed in bold red ‘10am’. At least he knew he could turn up to work whenever and still not be late… His mystery girl - he believed her name was y/n but he didn’t know if he was making that up or not,  it suited her, though – was not beside him. He sighed, for a second the thought that she had simply just left hurt him, she’d be just like everyone else. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and realised that, no! She was still here! Standing by the window overlooking the street, lost deep in her thoughts…

 You had got up around an hour before; no regrets stuck in your head as you regarded the man next to you for just a minute… He was surely a lot older than you, but, he was at least cute… You realised stupidly that he knew your name (Damn he’d sighed it enough!), but you hadn’t asked his, and he hadn’t exactly offered it either. First mistake, you supposed. You left the bed, showered, and were half way through getting dressed when you became concerned that you weren’t even sure which part of Miami he lived in. And this was surely his apartment because it wasn’t yours! …Perhaps that was for the best, if he knew your name AND where you lived… It was small, and although it looked lived in you weren’t exactly sure it was him who had lived in it… There were moving boxed scattered throughout, and you would forgive him that for not having the space. However, most didn’t even look opened. And that spoke to you of a man who was in slight denial of his current situation… and that, depending on what that situation was, could be problematic… You lent against the window frame and gazed down onto the streets below and out over the roof tops. You could still see the sea from here… but the skyline was still a mystery to you.

“Isn’t that a little ironic?” His husky morning voice managed to send an involuntary shiver down your spine, you turned to him, eyebrow raised; He was studying your back intently. “Hmmm?” “Your tattoo is a bible quote.” Without a shirt the script across your left shoulder was visible; “How do you know that…?” He didn’t strike you as the church on Sunday type. Well, maybe a different kind of church. “Psalm 23:4 kinda gives it away.” Looks like you’d nailed that, then. You laughed, “What makes it ironic?” He stood and walked across the floor, he was built well and you at least had to admire that. Ha, at least I woke UP with a 10. Many times had you had alarming phone calls from your friends pleading you to pick them up from a 10 turned 2. He smirked at the travel of your eyes but it didn’t bother you, you wanted to remember what you couldn’t remember. Today, that left you a little disappointed in yourself. He placed his hands either side of your face, effectively pinning you up against the glass. His eyes flicked down your body and he ran his tongue across his bottom lip, you felt your heart start up again as his blue eyes locked on yours. “If you’re a good Southern Christian Girl you should probably be in confessional by now…” He still hadn’t rid himself of his morning voice and he threatened to drive you crazy again. You held yourself back; “I don’t know… it’s not a Sunday… I’ve got all of today yet.” “Well, then, maybe we should make it worth your while and get a little more sinning done…” Okay… There we go, you laughed, ducking underneath his arm; “Honey, I’d love to stop and stay, but I should probably get going…” “...What? No, you don’t have to leave…!” “I really should…” you flicked your eyes over your shoulder “I do kinda need to borrow a shirt… though…” He hesitated for just a minute and you could see his brain working in his eyes; “…Yeah… Yeah sure…” He started searching through his things, leaving you amused and shaking your head as you gathered your dress from where it had pooled on the floor, you folded it neatly, and moved through into the next room. He swung around the door barely seconds later half-dressed himself to hand you a black shirt; “Oh! Thank you…” He made sure his hands brushed against yours as you took it from him and he watched you pull it over your head. He bit his lip gently, watching you smooth it down to fit to your figure. Something about the fact you were now wearing his shirt made him feel like you were his… And he realised then he wanted you to be more than just a one-night stand. Of course, your mind was going in a different direction entirely. You’d had a great time, you always did… and you’d had a few nights like this but you’d never been looking for anything. And you weren’t now either. “Hey wait – no – you – you can stay for breakfast?” You smiled at the fact he was still trying “… I’ll make you something.” “No, no, it’s okay really…” though, you had to say, what man had ever offered to make you breakfast before? “Not even coffee?” “No… I’m fine…” You could do with something, but it was better to love them and leave them than sit here and think on it for another hour… “Oh… Okay…” it was clear he was more than just a little disappointed. Then, he dashed back across the room, picking up a pen he searched for a piece of paper, anything… Oh here we go… This was only heading in one direction. He scribbled something and crossed back to you; “Take it…” “I don’t need your number…” That didn’t deter him, he kept his hand out in offering… You looked from his hand to his face and back “How else are you going to give my shirt back?” Well, you weren’t. That’s how it worked. You sighed, giving in but knowing you were never going to call a man whose name you didn’t even know.  You took it gently from him, folding it up, you slid your feet back into your heels. “Do you want me to call you a cab?” “I’ll be fine. Honestly. And you don’t need to walk me down stairs either…” He knitted his eyebrows together with an expression that showed you were clearly hurting him. You opened his door and turned back to him with all sincerity; “I had a great time last night… I really, really did… No one has ever made me feel that way as a dance partner… and…” You trailed off noting that you were making the look on his face too hopeful; “Maybe I’ll see you on the dance floor again…” “Yeah, CALL me.” He said, like that was so obvious. “Yeah… Okay…” Not a chance!

You closed the door behind you, shaking your head gently and taking the stairs quickly whilst contacting your ride back to your apartment… You only stopped at the bottom to check you actually had your keys and everything else you had packed in your bag. When it became apparent that you did, your phone chimed to let you know your ride was here. And upon exiting the building you realised that you were on the street you had just been staring at. You smiled to yourself, and as you opened the car door you turned and looked up to the window. Predictably he was standing watching you… Now dressed in slacks and a similar black shirt to the one he had handed you. He offered a wave, which made you smile that little bit more and return it before you hopped in the car – recognising you were essentially wearing a man’s shirt as a dress and needed to get home ASAP. You closed the door behind you and didn’t look back as the taxi pulled away from the curb. Pulling out of the street and onto a main road you noticed that you still had the paper in your hand… you unfolded it; and you only realised how much you were smiling when you felt your cheeks hurt. Danny.

 When you entered your own apartment, nearly a stark contrast to his, you finally took a breath out. However when you breathed in you stopped in your tracks; “Oh my god…” you took another breath. Of course his shirt would smell like him… You placed all your things on your kitchen counter and sat on a bar stool for a minute, gathering the fabric up you inhaled again and closed your eyes. All you could feel then was the way his body pressed against yours as you danced… and how it seemed to fit so well when you – “NO!!!!” You snapped your eyes open, gathering your things back up and walking to your bedroom. You weren’t going to do this. A one-night stand was a one-night stand, you’d done it before with zero consequences and this one would end the same way. Two weeks down the line when you ventured out alone again and found another man to hold you on another dance floor, Danny would be another one in a long line until you decided you actually needed to find someone ‘for real this time’. God knew your parents were hoping for that day sooner rather than later. Still, with the full intent of changing when you arrived home, you didn’t take his shirt off all day.

*** 

Sunday – 9:30am - Uptown Miami

 Your friends decided it would be a fantastic idea to head out for Sunday Brunch, and you’d spent the back half of your Saturday planning this out, and then where exactly you would find yourself afterwards… likely day drinking at some pool party, or maybe down on the beach… There was always shopping on the strip… With all day and endless possibilities, Friday was the last thing you were thinking about. The sunshine was brilliant today and you’d spent a good hour this morning lazily tanning yourself on your balcony… The shirt was now somewhere in your laundry, and his number at the bottom of your bag and you hadn’t thought about calling it once.

Eventually you decided you had to get ready, pulling on a white blue-and-burgundy-striped wrap dress. It pulled in tight to make you look like an hourglass and it cut flatteringly deep but was still sophisticated. You pulled on heeled sandals and pushed Raybans into your curled hair. You kept your lips simple, like your gold jewelry, but your eyes smokey. Your nails painted the same burgundy that ran through your dress. Your designer bag of course matched in the same colours. With a spritz of your favourite perfume you left your apartment to join your friends downstairs. The car pulled up to collect you and they both greeted you with a hug; Amanda and Evelyn had been your best friends most of your life and you were each other’s good AND bad influences.

“Well DAMN girl! Every man is going to be looking at YOU!” You eyed them both; “US! Come on!” The driver took you the scenic route down by the water, and you watched the way the sun glittered across the blue expanse… and suddenly you realised you didn’t even know where you were heading; “What’s this place we’re going?” You turn to them both, knowing they’d probably agreed without you, because you were never really the best at deciding on things. “Oh! Well! My parents really rate it! And it’s got super good reviews… Look it’s even in here…! This Danny Rayburn guy must be really something…” She turned the magazine just quick enough for you to catch a glimpse of the picture and for Friday night to come flooding back – no, no! That was a trick of the light and just the name being Danny SURELY… “What!? What’s he called!?” “Danny Rayburn?” “Let me actually read that!” You weren’t sure if she handed the magazine over or you grabbed it from her. And you also weren’t sure of the expression on your face when you looked at the picture more closely. Oh, you have GOT to be Fucking kidding me…. “Did you book it?” ANYTHING to avoid him… “Well no, but… It’s meant to be amazing… Since when were you one to shirk away from food?” “Uhm. No that’s not-” “Did you not want to come?” “That’s not it!” “Y/N! Don’t you think it’s about time we tried somewhere new?” They both gave you the same look with big wide eyes and you sighed, defeated. Hopefully it’d be your lucky day…

 You decided it was better to push Danny to the back of your mind and not start looking for him around here. If you started looking to avoid him you’d probably end up spotting him and that was not the aim. Quite the opposite. You decided it wasn’t to be your lucky day when the waiter showed you all to one of the elevated tables against the wall, in full view of the kitchen. You felt your heart start again, but this time it was anxious… okay… Y/N… You can do this…! Sure he owns the place but that doesn’t mean he’s actually HERE! You studied the menu harder than you really meant to, head down and focused, you placed your hands either side of your face and read. You were beyond intrigued – everything sounded like a safe-bet modern classic… but when you read between the lines everything had a slightly out of place quirky twist. Suddenly you were starting to piece together Danny Rayburn for yourself… and you had to be honest, you quite liked the picture…

Your friends were also both single, and the waiter was typically tall, dark and handsome. So whilst you were trying not to be seen (even with what you had opted to wear) they were gratuitously flirting with the poor guy. When his laugh became a little uneasy, you cut in; “Maybe you two should stick to mocktails!” They both gave you a near enough horrified look that you would suggest brunch without alcohol, the waiter looked more than grateful, to which you smiled. “Hopefully they both won’t scare you off!” The great thing about having Hispanic roots was there were so many people in Miami that were exactly the same… “I’ve seen worse!” He grinned “Are you ready to order?” “Me, yes… please excuse my friends, they are trying desperately NOT to live the single life.” “Haha! They are excused.”

You started with your drink, it was like your signature and you always lamented how no two bars could ever make it the same. He seemed rather accepting of the ingredients – sometimes restaurants would hate you for it, and one had all but refused to serve you something that wasn’t on the set menu. Apparently not Danny’s. Your friends ordered more alcohol than you thought was safe to consume at this time in the morning and you had a sneaking feeling they had a lot to tell you about Friday night.  When it came to the food you ordered very carefully. Heck, if you’d taken Danny up on his offer of breakfast you’d actually know how good the guy was to be adventurous but you felt playing it safe – but by no means simple – was the way to go. Amanda was going down no such route and even Evelyn eventually had to stop her; “Amanda, honey, we can’t order the entire menu!” “Evie! I’ll have what I want!” You raised an eyebrow; “You had an eventful Friday, it seems.” “We are NOT talking about it!” Amanda pointed a finger to swear you to silence. Evelyn made a face as if to agree with her. The waiter took that as his queue to get out quick, but not without thanking you, personally, in Spanish.

Amanda folded her arms with a pout; “UGH! Why do you always do that! You tell us off for flirting, then off you GO! He’ll be interested in you now!” “I’m sorry, maybe you two should have taken my offers of Spanish lessons more seriously!” “School made it so tedious though!” “Amanda, since when were you ever interested in school…” you shook your head and resumed your position of leaning your head in your right hand. Evelyn was better at reading between the lines, “What is going on with you Y/N?” “What do you mean?” “You’re usually right in there with all your adventures! And heck, everything you get up to at your so called job, and our nightlife..!” “You just told me not to ask about it!” “Well, aside from one mishap, our night was innnnnnncredible… Like, you honestly need to go to one of these parties Y/N!!” “No I really don’t!” “OH. Wait! I KNOW! What happened on Friday!” Amanda realised that whilst you weren’t with them, you most definitely would have been out on Friday. “WHAT!?” Of the three of you, you were one least likely to get in trouble. “Well what was he, a solid 1? Not even a solid 1?” “A solid -10?” Evelyn had them both falling about laughing. “…I didn’t say anything about a guy!” “No, but you’re clearly hung up on him!” They giggled again. “I thought the rule was we DIDN’T get hung up on one-night toy-boys.” You took Evie’s turn of phrase. “Well at least tell us about him!?” “There’s nothing to tell! You clearly both had a better night.” “At least tell us where!” You hesitated; “Little Havana.” “OH! OHHHH! That’s why you’re bringing the Spanish out!” “NO. Would you two please stop!” They just giggled to themselves again; geez. Now you needed that drink.

Danny Rayburn wasn’t one for thinking he had good luck. So he had to pinch himself. It took him a while to spot her, but when he did there was no denying that the girl from Friday night had walked into his restaurant. He studied her from the kitchen window with a smirk. She was halfway through her drink by now and the group of three were in very animated conversation. He could hear her laugh from here. She had made his day and it wasn’t even lunch time yet. “Danny what are you staring at?” “You won’t actually believe this…!” He nodded towards her “That girl I was talking about?” “From Friday!?” Jason slid over to the window to peer though; “Yeah. She’s over there…!” “OH Damn! Look at her! Did you tell her you worked here?!” Danny shook his head; “Nope!” He raised his eyebrows “God knows what I did, but I better be thanking my lucky stars.” He turned back to look at his chefs; “Who has table 14′s order?” Javi, who was waiting it and had just come past to collect something else tapped one of the clipped pieces of paper; “Right here, Danny.” “Oh. I got this one.” He pulled the paper and studied it, impressed. “Any particular reason?!” Javi began trying to balance plates and turned back to the table, sure the three girls were all very attractive in their own right and from here were in Danny’s direct line of sight, but Danny liked a challenge and that order was hardly complicated. Jason answered for him; “Cuz the girl in the white dress is the one he’s been talking about since he got in yesterday.” Danny nodded his agreement. “Ahhhhhh!! I’m going to assume she has no idea.” Jason gasped in mocking; “Why would you hurt him so!” “Well, she hasn’t exactly asked after you Dan!” “Oh she will, give me a hot minute…” Javi’s eye’s flicked to the other chef; “Jason, you’re a betting man.” “I bet she walks out before Danny gets a word in edgeways.” “Shutupbothofyou!” Javi dodged the swipe expertly and laughed “You’re ON Jase!” “UGH! HE IS SO STARING AT YOU!!” Amanda hissed across the table, you turned to see that indeed the waiter for your table was watching you with a smile… you turned back to her, intent on playing the situation; “Well what do you want me to do Amanda, give him my number?” “No but you can give him Amanda’s?” “Wow, Evie, you’re a regular expert.” You laughed. “Why have I never thought about that…” You nodded to Amanda “You can have ALL of them.” “She’s going to need them all at the rate she’s going!” That sent you and Evie laughing, and Amanda back into a folded arms huff; “You two are not funny!” “Actually, you can HAVE a number I recently collected…” You trailed off as your waiter came back to the table with your dishes… and your friends weren’t wrong he was surveying every detail of you, and it was a little unnerving. He was surely cute, but he was not your type. “Please enjoy Miss…!” He almost bowed, deep, and with a wink and then wandered off to his other tables, but not without a glance back. The others turned almost completely around to watch him go. “Well, if that man does not want that dress on his bedroom floor then I don’t know who does…” Amanda shook her head, “Please, PLEASE take him up on the offer and do it for me.” “UH. NO.” “oh come on, when was the last time you had sex y/n? And I mean really GOOD sex.” You opened your mouth;  uh, Friday? , but decided to hold back “…What you really mean is good sex I actually remembered… Ah, Alcohol my old friend!” You took another sip of drink and they both looked to each other with an eyebrow wiggle.

The food was gorgeous, and you savoured every single bite. Goddammit now you were really regretting NOT taking him up on breakfast. In fact, it was so good you were seriously considering a whole 180 on the situation and almost FORGOT you were supposed to be being inconspicuous. And you were all in agreement on this; you were now a few glasses in, and you’d switched to sangria – your waiter was more than impressed at that – and they had staggered the dishes so both not overwhelm you, and in such a way that they complimented each other. This was likely up there as one of your top brunches ever. The more alcohol your friends put in their systems the more the hilarity of their Friday night drinks party came to light – including the guy who got too touchy with Amanda in all the WRONG ways and how she’d had a drunken screaming fit at him that had set everyone else in the room into total stunned silence. But, although they kept pressing you for detail, you were keeping Danny Rayburn as buried as his phone number. That one was for you to keep.

Your concentration on your plan lapsed, of course it did, you were having a good time with your friends and you were drinking and your eyes wandered. The restaurant was beautiful, and wouldn’t look out of place anywhere on the Miami strip. You knew how much of a pretty penny real estate was, it was how your dad had made his money, and still was making… This place couldn’t have come cheap. And it was up together like someone constantly poured their heart and soul into it. If it was him, you’d seen his apartment and you thought they couldn’t be further apart. You looked to the kitchen for barely a few seconds; but it was enough for everything to shock you back to reality. He wasn’t even looking at you, not at first, but he was instantly recognisable. And when his eyes flicked up to meet yours you knew that he’d known you’d been here for a long time – your eyes didn’t meet by chance, because he didn’t expect you to be looking at him. You looked away just as quickly; no, no, no, no, no, no… okay, don’t panic y/n, he’s working. If you make your excuses now you can go before he even has the chance to leave… and look how busy it is, he doesn’t have time… One thing was for sure the table was going to be the most interesting thing in the world until you could leave. All at once you lost the majority of your appetite, to nerves, of all things.

Danny watched the shock, or, horror that crossed her face as his eyes locked into hers. The way she turned back to the table too fast and he knew she wasn’t looking back here any time soon – but the blush that crossed her cheeks and crept up her face and down her neck… He’d done that! He bit his lips together. He had two choices… maybe he had many more, but to Danny it was obvious. He could go out there and talk to her, or he could stay in here and watch her walk out of another door. He wasn’t sure how many chances he could afford to spend. “Jason, watch the kitchen for a minute I’m going out there.” “WHAT?!” Jason’s tone let him know he thought Danny was insane “Are you kidding!? Are you going out there?! You’re going to let Javi win the bet!? What about Kitchen loyalty man!” “Look I’m just gonna have to owe ya! That or you can take the constant piss when I screw this up!” “If you screw this up.” “This is me, Jase, it’s a when… Wish me luck!” He patted his friend on the shoulder and headed towards the swinging kitchen doors. All the chefs looked to each other, and Jason knew that for the next 5 minutes, there would be no cooking done here.

You dared to peak through your fingers and to your dismay he’d left his work station and now appeared to be tracking into the main restaurant. Please, just be going ANYWHERE but here… He caught your waiter’s arm and they exchanged a quick conversation before he rounded the bar and headed towards your table.

“SHIT!” You grabbed a drinks menu, which suddenly became very interesting and covered your face with it, both your friends looked up at you without a clue, probably about the voice the exact same question. Not that they got the chance. You were aware of just how hot you felt, how fast your heart was beating and the nerves that were bundled in your stomach. This could only go so wrong, surely. “So, just imagine my surprise when of all people to walk into my restaurant this morning, you happened in here… Y/N.” You didn’t know what his normal voice sounded like, considering your brief conversation the morning previous. But it could only have been him that had spoken.

Both your friends were staring at him now, wide eyed and open mouthed. You weren’t surprised, they had seen the article too and his picture it couldn’t have been anyone else. And he was talking to you. You lowered the drinks menu slowly, allowing you to regain some composure as you swallowed hard, met by those dazzling blue eyes. To your dismay you also quickly noticed that your friends weren’t the only ones staring, but the whole restaurant wanted to know what exactly was so important it had dragged Danny Rayburn out of the kitchen. If you didn’t focus on him, you were going to die. “Well, apologies for not realising you owned a restaurant on the riviera.” – Damn, that confidence had come out of nowhere, maybe it was the adrenaline but you sure were glad of it. He was clearly amused; “You never exactly asked.” “Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly ask for your number either.” “Oh, you remembered I gave it to you, I haven’t seen you try calling it.”  “You know girls like to leave guys waiting. Right?” “Not even on the cab ride home?” he shook his head “I thought Friday went down well.” Your friends expressions changed dramatically; and they quickly grasped that you KNEW when you read that article this morning, you knew EXACTLY what you could be getting into, and here you were – IN IT. “Would you call a guy that didn’t even give you his name?” “You didn’t seem all that interested in finding out.” You weren’t sure if you were riled or impressed that he was pushing this all back on you.  Your eyes flicked behind him to the kitchen, now at a complete standstill as they joined everyone in watching the two of you. Including your waiter. He wasn’t interested in you, you comprehended Danny had told his entire staff of your existence and you’d just voluntarily walked through that front door. “You seemed pretty good at saying mine.” Your friends switched from staring at him to staring wide eyed at you and you could see them bursting to ask the question.  He almost took a physical step back; you were playing him at his own game. He liked you even more now. “Y/N. It’s a good name. I wouldn’t mind saying it more often…” His eyes flicked down the cut of your dress slowly – you’d already guessed that he wanted to pool this one on the floor of his little apartment too… “Anyway, I really came to ask how you and your friends are enjoying my restaurant.” You were calling heavy bullshit on that, but you had to at least admit to him that it was incredible, with a grateful smile “…Amazing… But I had a feeling you knew that…” “I try.” He didn’t wink, but it was present in his voice. “What is most important is you enjoy your time here…” For the first time his eyes left you and looked to your friends, who were still in stunned silence. “…Can I get you anything else?” Both of them took far too long to regain any semblance of speech, so you ended it before they could; “Just the check.” You read the wince that didn’t cross his face and the horror of you even saying it that crossed Amanda and Evelyn as they swiveled between the two of you again. Your face remained as stoic as possible; he ran his tongue across his lips and then shook his head; “NO. No, you’re not paying. This is on the house.” Oh my GOD. He HAS to be THAT guy.  “I’m capable of paying for myself. Thanks.” You let him know you weren’t having it. “NO I insist.” He turned back to your waiter “JAVIER, Clear the check for table 14!” You could honestly have killed him right then and there, he turned back to the table, placing his hands down he lent in close to you in a way that made you back up, but also have instant flashbacks to his body pushed up against yours… you could breathe him in again now… Oh God… He smells so damn good…  “I gave you that number for a reason… You really should call it.” He murmured it, his voice almost growled and you wished he hadn’t… Because you were heating up everywhere else now. He let his eyes linger on yours for a few moments more, before, satisfied, he wandered back to his kitchen.

 Luckily your friends waited until the door to the restaurant had swung closed behind you; “DID YOU SLEEP WITH DANNY RAYBURN!?” “In my defence I didn’t know that’s who he was.” “DID YOU GET DANNY RAYBURN’S NUMBER!?” “I didn’t WANT his number he wouldn’t give up I told you this.” “GIRL! WHAT! WOMEN WOULD KILL FOR THAT!” “Do you want it!?” Amanda seemed to weigh up her options for a second; “Yeah – No – YES!” “Then go back in there and ask him, seems he’s not shy about handing it over!” “He literally just PAID for us! What even was that!? You could cut that sexual tension with a knife, LORD. Y/N!!! Get back in there!!” “NO!” You put a stop to that right then and there “There was no sexual tension either!” “Girl, I thought Javi was bad, that man undressed you with his eyes, undressed himself and then pushed you back on that table. That much was obvious.” The fact Evelyn had that mental image in her head didn’t detract from the fact you couldn’t un-see it. “I mean was he any good!?” Amanda got back to what she felt was important “Oh my god! Go and sleep with him yourself.” “I would but he’s already slept with you, so I’d rather get it from the source.” You sighed “I don’t know.” “You don’t know!?” “I was drinking. It always gets sketchy… bits are less… clear…” you gave a slight smirk “I mean, he’s a solid 10… so…” Amanda let out a lament and buried her face in her hands “And BOY can he cook.” Evelyn mused “Well yeah, he’s got that I suppose.” You folded your arms “But I am NOT calling him. I’m not doing this! It’s a RULE! He was a one-night stand, and it happened and that’s that. I am DONE with Danny Rayburn.” You closed the door to your apartment and almost screamed. Why!?! Whhhhhy!? This was NOT how it was meant to happen. That was your golden rule, this was never how you were going to end up dating someone… where exactly could you go after a one-night stand!? He knew more about you than you would care to tell or show someone you had been solidly dating for months. You supposed this was just the Universes way of laughing in your face.

Still, you didn’t give in right away. Although, hours in your apartment alone with your thoughts was not helping things… There would be no harm in trying, that might have been true… but… from your observation of his apartment ALONE you knew that man had history. If you called that number there was by no means a clear slate for either of you… 

You rooted around in your bag from that evening to find the now crumpled strip of paper he had written his number on… You stared at it so long the string of numbers were no longer numbers. If you called it, even if you got scared and backed out he would have YOUR number… “Aw, Screw this Y/N… Live a little!!”

His phone barely rang twice; “Yeah, Danny?” “…Hi…” You almost whispered it, why did that assured confidence in his voice make you feel so timid? Hell, why did he almost sound sexier over the phone?? “…Y/N!” You heard his laugh “…It damn well took you long enough!! What happened!?” “…Well, I had to find it again first…” “As long as you tell me you didn’t have to fish it out of the trash and piece it back together I think I’ll be okay… I’m glad you called.” “You are?” Of course he is dumbass he wanted you to call him yesterday! “Why would I not be…!? Are you okay? You sound kinda quiet…?” He laughed again “Lemmie guess, your boyfriend’s in the next room isn’t he?” It got you, the way he asked if you were okay and actually sounded concerned… but then as if he’d changed his mind shrugged it off with a joke… “No..!!” You stammered it as you tried to sound more assertive and then could feel your cheeks heating up. You had just out sassed this man to his face in his restaurant in front of your friends, but now you couldn’t talk to him over the phone!?! You took a deep breath. He was silent, he let you take the time you needed… Danny Rayburn who the hell are you…!?

You put your head in your free hand; “Look… I’ve never done this before…” “Done what?” The edge to his voice made you think he knew, but he wanted you to voice it. You took another breath and, as you felt yourself get hotter and knew you probably matched the stripes in your dress, were glad this wasn’t a face to face conversation; “Called a guy after a one-night stand…” “…Well, Darlin’, that’s okay… This is new to you. I get it…” He drawled it in that way that let you know he wasn’t from Miami, but that simultaneously sent shivers through more than just your spine. He didn’t, however, make the joke that you expected “…I’m glad you decided to break the habit. And even more glad you decided to do it with me.” He was met with your silence, you had no idea what to say, and that was the truth… He carried on, you knew he could sense that admitting that was uncomfortable for you… “Look, how about we take this slow… We’ll go for a drink this week and talk it over… There’s a great little bar down by the beach not too far from my restaurant. You strike me as a 9-5 gal and… Well, I can leave whenever I want but the earliest, I really like to leave is 6, after a shift, so… How about 6:30… Thursday?” You smiled, he’d just taken all that pressure off you in one fell swoop. You guessed he was used to it, clearly, he was experienced in all areas… You knew that well enough. “That’s perfect. Thursday… It’s a date.” A date!? What the hell were you saying this was insane! He laughed gently in agreement; “Excellent… y/n… a date!”

---

* A/N (Post-Posting!): I genuinely used this GIF as the picture... so, I’ve added it here for you! ;) )

[thatlonelygirl630]

I so want to write this fanfic but ahh it would be so long!!!

Oh boy this turned out longer then expected sorry for your dashes but my sister thought it was worth the read!

So the new “villian” of the year shows up out of no where saving supergirl and gives the DEO lists of Cadmus facilities that are still working. They don’t get a hit in any facial recognition for an identity. When those Cadmus facilities get shut down of course Lillian would use her connections to escape prison (again) and attempt to save her life’s work.

Now with that obviously more kryptonite would be involved resulting in Supergirl getting hurt more often and getting weaker. The new hero is dubbed as the shadow since she never talks to anyone or sticks around for the interview photo op and generally sticks to the shadows (wears all black).

Kara has stated numerous times there is somthing weird about the shadow but she can’t place it. That’s when a partial file was sent to the DEO anonymously all about the shadow. It’s basically found out she was created by Lillian to be stronger then any Kryptonian and be able to kill one.

With that the DEO (mainly Alex) flips out and wants her captured so she can’t hurt her sister. They soon realize nothing seems to be able to contain her. Kryptonite seems to peirce her skin but not debilitate her as it would Kara or Kal-El. Even though the DEO is trying to caputure her the shadow just keeps on showing up to help supergirl often times flying her back to the DEO when she’s to weak but leaving without a word.

Kara and Alex work together to try and figure out what her deal is and why she doesn’t just attempt to kill Kara. Lena tried to help and hack Cadmus for the rest of the file hoping to find a weakness when....

Supergirl gets stabbed right in the gut by a kryptonite claw. Alex gets terrified at the sight of her sister dropping to the ground but is quickly reminded of her own fight with a human armed with alien tech.

Lena is monitoring the girl of steel back at the DEO since she was wearing the special suit but she notices somthing odd. Usually and understandably when anyone is stabbed let alone Supergirl by kryptonite their vitals skyrocket. High heart rain, blood pressure is unstable and all of that kinda stuff. Instead though her vitals start to steady.

The Luthor looks at the footage of an agents helmet cam and sees the shadow putting pressure on the wound, kryptonite blade long gone along with the suits helmet. She was expecting to see her injecting supergirl with somthing but the shadow was just putting pressure on the wound with a gloved hand around supergirl neck shaking her head when the blue eyes flutter shut.

Alex was amazed by the footage when she saw it later how her sister just stared into the eyes of the enemy and seemed at peace. When Kara later woke up healed and cleared to leave Alex asked her about it but the blonde simply says she must have been delirious or something. Alex knew she was lying but didn’t push.

When Lena finally managed to obtain the other half of the file she was shocked. Immediately she went to the DEO with it but both supergirl and Alex were missing.

Lillian managed to capture Alex and convinced Kara to come willingly using Alex as leverage. During their capture Lillian taunted them before finally handing over the whole file.

Alex read it first and was shocked it took her a full minute to wrap her brain around it. Turns out the two parent cells Lillian used were Alura’s which she nabbed from lex when he had managed to obtain a sample of Kryptonian DNA that was stored in the fortress of solitude. And the other Jeremiah Danvers.

The perfect blend of Danvers and El blood, a sister to both Kara and Alex. It’s why Jeremiah stayed with them for so long no even attempting to escape. Sure in the process her protected Kara and Alex but he didn’t want to just abandon this new baby allowing her to grow up a weapon.

Thanks to the odd combination of DNA she aged faster until hitting puberty and was physically 26 years of age. Jeremiah made sure to raise her, helped her seperate the good and bad, helped her be her person.

When she was old enough he made her a suit and helped her escape while he stayed behind to cover for her. He taught her all about Kara and Alex, how close they had become in his absence, unintentionally he had made the third sister scared to confront her family.

She was terrified they would reject her, that there would be no room for her, their bond as sisters too fortified to let anyone else in. She planned on leaving national city, leaving everything behind but she couldn’t.

She couldn’t for the same reason Kara’s vitals stabilized dispite almost dying. Kryptonian familial recognition. She saw supergirl get hurt and had to go save her, she had to. So she stuck around keeping in the shadows of the Danvers lives making sure they were safe.

When the shadow eventually comes to rescue them after mentally prepping herself for returning to the place she was held and experimented on for the duration of her life she gets Jeremiah out of there too.

They hold off going to the DEO for a little while deciding the four of them needed to talk. So they sat in Kara’s apartment, the suits they all wore looking like Halloween costumes.

The shadow turned off the image inducer she made making sure no one would recognize her and the sisters were shocked at seeing Jeremiah engulf her in a hug. The reality still not fully cemented in their minds yet.

Jeremiah explains everything to them and the shadow (insert whatever name ya like for her) to which Kara scoffs at saying they would never turn her away. Alex seemed skeptical but going back to the whole familiar recognition Kara gets close with her very quickly making Alex warm up as well.

It would really be a full Danvers sister season with Alex being protective over kara after seeing Lillian created yet another thing to kill her. While also digging deep into their hearts to find room for more family seeing as they have been so used to being there for each other and now they have a sister who was mentally a physically abused/tortured/manipulated for most of her life (Jeremiah could only do so much).

Now the season finally could be all about how the three of them are all trying their best becoming the best of buds when Cadmus rises again more deadly then ever. It eventually ends with the shadow sacrificing herself to Lillian at her request to save Kara from dying. Kara begs her not to but she does anyway.

Kara only finds out later that Lillian nabbed Alex too and season 6 could be how supergirl gets really determined to save her sisters. She has to battle the new director of the DEO on everything so she quits and joins up with Lena to get the job done (maybe throwing in a little supergirl dabbling in the dark side in her determination while Lena keeps her on the right path as a twist).

Meanwhile in Cadmus Jeremiah is doing his best (cause Lillian will never admit but she needs him and if holding his daughters over his head and dealing she will take his smarts) to make sure Alex and shadow are alive and well (again his best!). Lillian just got Alex as a sort of bargaining tool, I mean Kara would do anything for her, the government what to save her and she’s smart like her father.

Alex endures all of the torture thrown her way refusing to help Lillian in any way all while Lillian is brain washing the shadow (I imagined it kinda like a cross between Bucky form marvel and how maxwell lord created bizarro) by making her follow any orders and planting a seed of hate for supergirl.

When she’s satisfied with the progress Lillian gives her a finally come and as the shadow begs her not to knowing it would be “kill supergirl”. Lillian then releases her and the shdow has to fight herself as she bolts to the DEO managing to get to a safe spot before collapsing as her mind battles itself.

Kara the ever worried sister finds out she is there and goes after her. Finds her crying and immediately try’s to comfort her meaning cuddling her on the stairs of the DEO with Kara being the affectionate person she is.

That doesn’t help with shadows mental state and she has to fight her heat vison as she screams at Kara to take the suit off. Lillian told her to kill supergirl not Kara.

The rest of the season can be all about Alex following in her fathers footsteps keeping her sisters safe but not repeating his mistakes. No Alex is determined to get out of Cadmus in time to save her sisters, in time to save herself.

Kara tries to help the shadow but is ultimately making it hard on her so kara turns to the only person she has (could make a good supergirl reveal) Lena who helps the shadow with some smart techy Lena invention.

Now this part is completely optional and is totally for whatever you ship in the show!!!!

For Lena x James

I mean that could make or break them the whole her and supergirl doing questionable morality trying to save Alex and shadow. Either it ends them or he decides to help and it fixes all the problems they have been having.

For Kara x Lena

Now personally I think if supercorp (as much as I love them) were to ever happen it would be out of obligation and not feel very genuine (in the writing at least I think Katie and Melissa could pull it off on screen but scripts can fail even the best of chemistry). However I think this would create a very real and emotional getting together for them. Kara going on an emotional rollercoaster with her sisters being kidnapped while Lena holds her hand and helps her. Then when she can’t help her sister and makes it worse she breaks down and Lena is the shoulder for her to cry on. Kara could realize that her support was taken away and Lena was there for her (she always has and Kara knows that but this would be like her eye opening I actually love you moment). Lena also realizes it after seeing her best friend hurting so much.

I mean seems more realistic then them one day just going eh I guess I love you.

Anyway that was really long if you made it through let me know what you think.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Night Terrors

A Jacksepticeye Fan Fiction

Summary: Have you ever wondered what the consequences of black magic are? One of the boys knows all too well, because it ruined his life.

(Hey, I’d really appreciate feedback on this one. I don’t usually write things like this, all description and no dialogue or action, and I’m kinda nervous. Still, hope you enjoy)

It always started the same.

He was on stage, at his final performance. At the time, he was at the height of his career, the venue was grand and every seat was sold out. Everyone always said his magic was incredible. Even the most stubborn critics, the ones who sought to figure out how every trick was done, said that it looked real. It was.

His study in magic had started with the normal kind: slight of hand, card tricks, and rings designed to link together easily. He’d been terrible. But also determined and driven. He was going to be the best magician, one that blew audiences’ minds on a regular basis. When he found the website for the first time, he hadn’t really believed any of the spells would work, but he memorized the words anyway, thinking they could add some mystery to his mundane tricks. The first time he spoke the spell out loud, a puff of yellow-green smoke had appeared. He’d been confused. How had he managed to do it? But soon, he saw the possibilities extending before him.

It wasn’t long before people took notice of the cat-masked man whose dazzling tricks awed any who saw them. He preformed bigger and bigger shows, for more and more people. But he knew that he had to keep upping the ante for every production. He learned more and more spells—not only the flashy kind to entertain others, but also those to attack and defend, those to transform and teleport, those to conjure and change objects.

The first time he came across one of the more dangerous spells, he barely hesitated. He read through the warnings and followed the instructions very carefully, and nothing happened. Maybe it would’ve been better if something did. Maybe he would’ve been more cautious about playing about with that kind of magic. As it was, he went far too deep into the darkness without any realization of what it would mean.

But he still noticed the consequences. Small things, mostly. Pounding headaches. Random chills. Some days he was consumed with exhaustion. He lost track of time, thinking it was Saturday when it was really Tuesday, or setting out for a morning errand and finding it was actually night. He became snappish and irritable, isolating himself and not interacting with others unless absolutely necessary. Then the day after one of those episodes, he was filled with a strange energy, acting on impulse with absolutely no mental filter, jabbering away with all his colleagues. And, occasionally, voices would invade his mind, whispering in languages best left forgotten. But he couldn’t see these problems as interfering too much with his life. He thought he could handle it.

Until that final show. The largest and grandest venue, the biggest and loudest crowd. Of course shit would hit the fan on that day in particular.

It started out well enough. The first trick went by without incident, and the crowd “oohed” and “ahhed” in all the places. But then, the voices came.

...di tenebra cuerdis toi...

...huus voluisti nen...

Quiet at first. Easy to ignore. With a shake of his head, he continued.

...delaebo omemn...

...imnirapa int ilude...

But they grew and grew and grew. He began missing words in his script, confusing which gestures went with which spells, even stumbling while walking across the stage. 

Instead of being worried, he was angry. Why, why did this have to happen now!? He was in the middle of a performance, and these words were driving into his head like a persistent hammer banging on a six-inch nail. And all these people were watching him, they were just waiting for him to mess up weren’t they, he could feel their eyes, he could feel the heat from the lights above and when he looked up the lights were eyes too—

A spell went farther than he intended, bright green and purple lights covering the first ten rows of the audience, who gasped at the chill it caused. He felt a wicked sort of joy at that. More spells went out over the people. They screamed, more in terror than pain. They realized this wasn’t supposed to happen, and it scared them.

...igna di tenabros...

...virtas sit tu a mazimm...

...occ idre eos...

...OCC IDRE EOS!

They were all coming for him. He could see them, their bodies made of dancing light. He was chanting with the voices in his head. He wanted to do this. He wanted to hurt them. 

People screamed in pain as they tried to flee. He didn’t care. They were burned by the fire, blood spilled by shards of magic, and crushed by the falling roof above. But they rose again as monsters, and they came for him with twisted faces and bodies. He cast spell after spell, more people died and came back in a vicious cycle, and the roof above them collapsed and the stage fell into fire—

Marvin always woke up at that point.

Nobody had died at the actual show, but his nightmares wouldn’t let him forget that they could have. In reality, a few brave stagehands had stopped him, with the aid of a couple security officers. Most had been burned by his fire, one had been cut by whirling blades of magic, and they all had to stay for a while in the hospital, but no deaths.

Marvin hadn’t exactly been in the best state of mind at that point. He remembered shouting the spell words, mixed with random angry rants or growled threats, and trying his best to get one more big spell out. It had probably been for the best that one of the security officers had finally managed to knock him to the ground, where he’d proceeded to hit his head way too hard against the edge of the stage. He’d woken up in a hospital room, completely out of energy, with some German doctor taking notes about his condition.

It was a miracle Marvin hadn’t been taken in for some kind of psychiatric session. The doctor managed to talk the hospital out of it, but he insisted on hanging around the magician in a semi-official capacity, just to keep an eye on him. Marvin didn’t mind. He was kinda cool.

Still, even if he wasn’t officially declared insane, people began to think of him as “that crazy magician.” No one wanted to hire him for a venue, or even for a “normal” job. Marvin got away with performing at small places that might’ve been just a bit too shady. But he was left without a regular income. Though he had savings tucked away that could’ve lasted him a long while, he sold his house, tired of the funny looks the neighbors were giving him.

Marvin never told anyone about what really happened. Even when he and Schneep eventually became friends, even when he met Jack, Chase, Jackie, and JJ, he kept quiet. All he’d told them was the incident at the show happened because of black magic. He never specified that it was because he was the one using it. Partly, he was afraid what they’d think of him. He could imagine their faces: scared, furious, betrayed. Partly, he didn’t want to let them down. He was supposed to be the magical expert of the group, and if they found out he made such a stupid mistake...well, he didn’t even want to think about it.

But mostly, he was afraid—paralyzed—of losing control. Of having his mind and magic being lost to him, of being unable to choose. And did he even have the right to be scared of that? Considering what the others went through, his troubles seemed minor in comparison. So Marvin kept silent, using magic cautiously, only breaking out the more dangerous spells when his life depended on it. Maybe one day, the effects of the black magic would wear off.

But until then, he would wake up every night, terrified of his own dark dreams.

[fics-for-my-heart]

Soul Burn (p7)

Summary: The first time you touch your soulmate, your skin burns in that spot till you touch them again

Word Count: 2218

Warning: Swearing

A/N: Whoa guys, I’m so sorry this update took so long. I went through a bit of a writing rut, and I’ve been extremely exhausted from work. I’m thinking the next part will be the last one, but we will see how it goes. Hope you enjoy! Also! I’m like 3 away from 300 followers!!

Masterlist

Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Four  Part Five  Part Six  Part Seven  Part Eight  Part Nine   Part Ten 

 Everything stopped the moment your lips touched his and it took him a moment to react. Your lips were soft and tasted just as sweet as he thought they would. Slowly his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. When you pulled away, you both had matching smiles on your faces.

 “What was that for?” He asked, resting his forehead against yours.

 “Just felt right.” You pecked his lips again. “Just like everything else with you feels right.”

 “Ugh!” His arms tightened again as he lifted you off the ground, spinning and giggling.

 Before either of you could say much more, the intercom by the door buzzed to life with the voice of the front desk attendant, Vivian. “Y/N. Just a heads up, another class is coming in soon. So unless you and, uh, Harry, want company I’d head out.”

 Your eyes widened as you leaped across the floor, Tom hurrying his hoodie on. “Thanks, V. We’ll be out in a bit.” Quickly you threw your own hoodie on. “Do you think she knows who you are?”

 He lifted the gym bag over his shoulder and laced his fingers with yours. “I don’t think so. But who knows. You ready?” With a nod, the two of you made your way out.

 “Have a good day!” Vivian said with a wink while holding her pinky out and making a zip motion across her lips.

 “She totally knows.” You said once you got in the car. “But I’ve known her since we were babies so I trust her.”

 Tom nods, placing a hand on your leg while you drove. “If you trust her, I trust her.”

 On your way home, you stopped for some burgers and shakes, then lazed around the house. Sometime after you started a show and rested you head in Tom’s lap, you fell asleep, only realizing it when he woke you.

 “Y/N.” His fingers traced over your face. “Hey, love. Wake up.”

 “Hmm. I’m not asleep.” You push your face further into his thigh.

 “Those soft snores say otherwise.” You rolled over to face him with a scowl which his hands tried to smooth away. “Now, they were cute, calm down. We have our dinner plans soon. Julie said she’s on her way to help you get ready. I’m going go to my hotel and get ready there.”

 “If you want, you can just bring your stuff and stay here.”

 Toms face lit up. “Really?”

 “Yes, pretty boy. How much longer can you stay?”

 “Uh.” Tom reached for his phone, taking a sneaky picture of you looking up at him before opening his calendar. “I have some auditions next week, so I’ll have to go back to LA soon. And after those I have to go back home for a charity event. A week after that we start promotional stuff for FFH.”

 “How long will promo be?”

 “Normally about two months or so. Up until the premiere of the movie.” He rested his hand on your head, almost like he could read the worry on your face. “You can come with me. Back home I mean. LA is a bit pap hungry, but back home it’s a bit quieter. You can meet my parents, and Jacob and Zendaya want to meet you too.” Your face warmed at the thought of Tom talking to his co stars about you. “You don’t have to though. I can fly out on my off time and come see you.”

 You sat up, grabbing his face in both hands so he was looking you in the eyes. “Tom. I’d love to go with you.” And with that, for the second time that day, you met his lips. Once again, lost in your bubble, you completely forgot about the world, just your lips on each others, till someone cleared their throat.

 Julie's eyes were wide when you both looked over at her. “Woah. Alright. Tom. Out. Y/N you got a lot to tell me girl.”

 “Alright. Alright.” You both stood up, your arms wrapping around him. “I’ll see you soon.”

 “See you soon, buggie boy.” You gave him a quick peck.

 “Bye.” He said, while not making an effort to move, just kissing you again.

 Julie cleared her throat again. “Excuse meeeee. I’m still in the room.”

 “Okay. Okay.” Tom gave you one more kiss. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

 “Yes. Bye Tom!” Julie grabbed Tom’s shoulders, pulling him away and toward the door. “See you later!” There was some soft whispers in the hall, followed by the door closing.

 “What were you whispering about?” You asked, crossing your arms.

 “He just asked me to look after you.” She shrugged, grabbing your hand. “Now, let’s get you ready.”

 —

 “So, I see you’re feeling better about your relationship?” Julie asked, tapping extra powder from her brush.

 “Yeah. Idk we went dancing today and everything just kinda felt so right. I don’t know how to explain it. I just kissed him.”

 “That’s normally how it works. See they need a class in school on this or something. This whole soulmate thing has been around long enough for them to study it. I really think it would be helpful to have more knowledge on it.”

 “Thank you.” Was all you said, the brush stopped a moment on your lid before moving around again.

 “For what?”

 You shrug. “For everything. For being my friend. Always helping me keep hope when I would feel down about being alone. Telling me I’m not crazy for how I’m feeling. Always being there.” You opened your eyes looking right at Julie’s. “Seriously, you have been my rock forever and I couldn’t ask for a better friend.”

 “Honey bunch, you’ve been there for me more times than I can count and you never let me down. There’s no way I would let you down.” She kisses the top of your head before returning to work on your makeup. “So, what else have I missed?”

 “Well, Tom has to leave in a few days for auditions, then he is going home for a charity event and a week after that they start promo for Far From Home. So.” You played with your fingers, only now realizing that you were a little nervous about it. “After the charity event I’m going to fly out and meet his parents. And then spend some time with them while he does his promo stuff. He’s talked to Jacob and Zendaya about me.”

 “Whhhhat?! That’s awesome. Are you going to meet them?”

 “Yeah, he said they want to meet me. I’m a little nervous though. What if his family doesn’t like me?”

 “Honey they will love you.” The rest of the time was spent learning what little Julie knew about his family from different interviews. Once Julie was done, she helped you pick out a flowing black dress, nothing to fancy, and you headed to her car.

 “Julie, why are we at your house?” You asked as she pulled into her driveway.

 She smiled and shrugged before getting out of the car. “I don’t know. I’m just the driver.” She glanced at her phone, then back up at you. “Alright, you ready?”

 With a hesitant nod, you grab your clutch and follow Julie to the door. A pleasant aroma filled your nose the moment you stepped inside causing your mouth to water.  

 “Did Mitch cook?” The apartment was silent except for soft music coming from the back porch.

 “He had some help.” Julie smiled, leading you to the back door. “Enjoy dear.”

 She closed the door once you stepped outside and made a shoo motion with her hands. Stepping out further you took in the porch. Lights had been strung around lighting up the night sky like the stars. The music, though a bit louder, was still soft. You followed it, only to find Tom standing beside a chair at the table, a cloth had been draped over it, and there were candles lit in the middle.

 “I know we can’t go out and have a fancy dinner, so I decided to bring the fancy dinner to you.” He looked handsome, his maroon shirt tucked into a pair of dark grey slacks. Julie had shown you similar pictures before, but seeing him dressed like this in person was even better.

 “Tom.” You smiled, stepping up to him and wrapping your arms around his waist. “It’s perfect.”

 “You’re perfect.” He whispered into your hair, leaving a soft kiss before he continued. “Now, Sam does most of the cooking at home, but, I’m a good assistant. So, Mitch cooked, but I helped.” He pulled your chair out, pushing it back in once you were seated. “Also, you look lovely.” He kissed your head again before moving to his seat. “I hope you like it.”

---

 The food was amazing, but the company was the best part. After you ate you danced around the porch for a bit talking about everything and nothing. Finally, after a quick thank you and bye to Julie and Mitch, you headed back to your place.

 “Hey, I have a question for you.” The two of you were lying in your bed watching a movie. You rolled your head over to look at his pretty face.

 “Yes?”

 “Okay, so. I haven’t told my parents yet. Like, they know my Burn is gone and everything but I haven’t told them that it’s you.” He smile softly, fully understanding. “I was thinking. Maybe we could go surprise them tomorrow? I have to go to work so it’ll have to be when I get home.”

 “Sure!” His face lit up with excitement. “I’d love to meet them!”

 You gave him a quick kiss before snuggling back into his side. “Awesome.”

—

 “Tommy, hun are you ready?” You called up the steps, smoothing out the bottom of the sunflower dress you wore.

 “Yes, coming.” He stopped at the bottom, looking at you. “You look beautiful. Also, did you call me Tommy?”

 You breath caught. “Yes, sorry it just came out.”

 “No, no, I love it.” He took the last step and kissed your cheek.

 “Good, because that’s been your name in my phone since day one. Oh, and you look nice as well.” He was wearing a black button down tucked into black slacks.

 “Thank you. I’m a bit nervous.” His brows pinched as he laced his fingers with yours.

 “Me too, but, they will love you.”

 The ride was short, your parents lived on the other side of town. Tom spent the ride nervously talking. Telling you about the scripts he practiced while you were at work, and the FaceTime called to Jacob and Zendaya to tell them you were coming to visit soon. By the time he got around to asking you about your day you had arrived at your parents house.

 “Are you ready?” You put the car in park and looked at him.

 He took a deep breath. “Yes. Let’s go.”

 The front door was opened before you could even get all the way to it. Ben, your brother, stood there with a shocked expression.

 “Ben, you alright?” You waved a hand in his face but his eyes were locked on Tom.

 “Holy shit. You’re Tom fucking Holland!”

  “Benjamin, language!” Your mother’s voice said before she appeared around the door a smile on her face when she saw you. “Oh, hello dear.” Her eyes moved to Tom, then down to your joined hands. Her face watching Bens. “Oh my goodness!”

 “Mom, this is Tom. He is, uh, he is my soulmate.”

---

 It went a lot better than you thought it would. You brother and Tom had their heads together almost the entire time. Talking about different Marvel movies and what Tom was allowed to say about the new movie. Your mother wanted to know everything, starting from the beginning. When your dad got home, he joined your brother and Tom’s conversation. After a nice family dinner you all sat around the backyard enjoying the nice night.

 “Guys.” You started with a yawn. “I think we are going to head back to my place. It’s getting late.”

 “Of course, it’s past our bedtime anyway.” Your father joked, standing up to hug you. “Tom, it was nice to meet you. Glad to have you as part of our family.” He extended a hand, which Tom shook.

 “I’m excited to be apart of the family, sir.”

 After a few more hugs and kisses you and Tom headed out, beyond ready to be in bed.

 “That was fun. Your brother is like a Marvel genius.” Tom gushed, locking the door behind him. “Like, I didn’t know that the reason Spider-Man is hyphenated is so it looks different from Superman.” He gasped, causing you to look at him with concern. “I have some stuff from set that I will totally send him.”

 A soft smile made its way across your face as you reached a hand up to pat his cheek. “You’re cute. I’m sleepy.” Tom wrapped you in a smothering hug. “You don’t leave tomorrow do you?”

 “Nope, but the day after. It’s a late flight though so when you get home from work tomorrow we can be extremely lazy till I have to leave.”

 “Sounds like a plan. Now, let’s go cuddle and sleep.”

Tagsss

@strang-ersclub @greenarrowhead @delicately-written @thebookwormfairy @fuckyou-imspiderman @infinity-strange @thefuriousquake @ashtons-drummer

[curly-q-reviews]

ROAD TO THE OSCAR MAYER WIENER AWARDS 2K19

Black Panther, 2018 (dir. Ryan Coogler)

Nominated for: Best Original Score, Best Original Song, Best Motion Picture of the Year, Best Costume Design, Best Production Design, Best Sound Editing, Best Sound Mixing

ok y’all lets get this party started with a movie i didnt get to catch in theaters (i think i ended up renting it) but people were absolutely raving about it all of last year, and for good reason i gotta say!  it was one of the better marvel films that came out last year (though in my humble opinion Infinity War takes the gold)

speaking of marvel lets talk about it for a spell!  lets have a lil sit-down chit-chat shall we!!  cause its kind of insane how much of an american media phenomenon marvel has become, they are arguably single-handedly responsible for reviving the superhero movie subgenre and now these types of movies bring hollywood more dineros than they probably know what to do with (besides make more superhero movies).  what used to be a niche market where only your most hardcore of nerdy types dared to dwell has been embraced into the mainstream wholeheartedly, and now its hard to imagine the american film industry without them. 

from a film critique standpoint, marvel movies seem to be a hit-or-miss as far as quality, however i cant really think of a particular marvel movie that i thought was a total piece of hot garbage (the first two Thor movies come close but they were more boring than anything else).  however last year was a real success for the studio, they just kept pumping out quality movies left and right and once disney managed to get its grubby lil mouse paws on Spider-man it was a done deal baby.  DC and other companies have tried again and again to recreate the success that Marvel has managed and so far they’ve failed to various degrees.  Marvel’s just got that special something with their cinematic universe, some magical combo of great actors and creative directors and an ever-expanding budget that keeps them staying at the top every time.

so whats my stance on superhero movies???  well theyre not my usual cup of tea but i gotta say they’re real damn entertaining.  i kinda view them like a high-speed ride at an amusement park, super fun and thrilling and exhilarating and just a real good time!  but thats about as far as it goes for me, and im sure thats the same for a lot of people.  to be honest its kinda refreshing to have movies that quality-wise are up to my standards that i dont have to think too hard about.  so for me the movies i typically go for are like museums, whereas superhero movies (and action movies in general) are like a carnival.  both entertaining and fun, but the latter is just all about letting loose and not wondering about the why’s and how’s.  when i think about it, this kinda mindset is for sure a factor in how these movies got so popular, because with the shitshow that is our current government and the potential imminent death of our planet people are once again looking for movies as a form of escapism, rather than a way to get deep and philosophical and ask the tough questions and see something profound. 

with that being said, despite some exceptions that have proven me wrong to my utter joy and delight (im looking at u Logan), i expect movies that are nominated for wiener awards to be more like museums than like carnivals y’know what i mean?  u catchin my drift???  u takin what im dishin out????  the academy awards have a long history of prestige, of nominating the best of the best of any given year. quite a few movies that won oscars are now considered to be timeless classics.  which is why superhero movies, at least the typical marvel types that are chocked to the brim with CGI and epic massive fight scenes and explosions, dont really strike me as anything that could eventually become a timeless classic.  the amount of computer-generated effects alone will make these movies feel really dated as soon as like five years from now with how fast technology is progressing.  i just dont see it happening.

and that brings us to the first wiener award nominee ill be talking about, Black Panther.  this isnt director Ryan Coogler’s first time at the rodeo; his first feature film Fruitvale Station received critical acclaim in 2013, and the spiritual Rocky sequel Creed actually got nominated for some oscars a few years ago.  so we’ve got a promising and talented director at the helm which is a great start!  we’ve also got a stellar cast with the likes of michael b. jordan (who has been in all of Coogler’s films so far), lupita nyong’o, angela bassett, and forest whitaker in the bunch.  it also has the astronomical financial backing of Supreme Overlord Disney so u know this is gonna be some high-quality shit.

so i’m gonna tell y’all why i think this movie got nominated for so many oscars, because in a way i do think this movie is deserving of noms from the academy.  theres no denying that it is very groundbreaking for a movie of this scale and magnitude to have a black director and a nearly all-black cast.  in fact, i think a lot of the crew members (including set and costume design) were black as well.  thats fuckin huge my guy.  and this movie was by no means a flop either; it ended up being one of the highest-grossing films of 2018 and stayed in theaters for a loooong-ass time.  and not only were the people on this project mostly black, the movie itself is a story praising and showing off the beauty of african culture without exotifying or demeaning it in any way.  like i can say 100% without a doubt that this movie deserves its best costume design nom cause holy shit the outfits in this movie are stunning, just the perfect blend of ancient/current tribal african aesthetics and a more futuristic sleek style that any fashion enthusiast can drool over.

i cant say much about best musical score or best sound mixing or anything like that cause it all seemed like typical marvel stuff to me and wasnt all that memorable.  however i can say that the production design on this movie, while it didnt impress me as much as costuming, did still impress me.  the one thing i gotta knock it on is all the fucken CGI, like whole entire towns and landscapes were digitally rendered.  i wouldve been a lot more impressed and would agree more to the production design nom if they used more practical effects and real sets/locations. 

so.  best picture.  this is where i feel the most conflicted.  cause this is where i now have to look past all the pretty fancy visuals and music and look at the actual meat of this movie, its story and characters.  usually best picture noms also get noms for things like best actress, best script, and best director, cause those are all really important elements of a good film.  ur movie can look and sound as pretty as it wants but if the storys shit and the characters are shit and the actings shit then u dont have much going for u.

and by no means am i saying that Black Panther was shitty in these aspects, it was just well.  passable.  it was ok.  but nothing to write home about

we got some good performances from newcomers letitia wright and chadwick boseman, lupita kills it as always, but then everyone else was like.  okay.  michael b. jordan didnt really do his best in this and idk if its the script’s fault or something but it was weird.  and speaking of the script it was uuuuhhhhh well.  not great.  every time i think about that “what are those” reference i die a little inside.  and the story overall wasnt really anything new when u break it down, just another “son of king struggles to take his place” narrative.  and that aspect of the story couldve actually been more developed into something interesting, i found myself really intrigued with the political scenes.  but there just wasnt enough of that cause they needed to make more room for the PEW PEW POW EXPLOSIONS

granted, movies with lots of shimmer but little substance have been nominated for best picture before (just look at James Cameron’s Avatar which is apparently getting a sequel now????????).  and its not even that this movie is completely devoid of substance cause theres some interesting things going on plot-wise, and some stand-out characters too (shuri is the boss and no one can tell me otherwise).  its just, u know, a good superhero movie.  nothing really profound about the story itself except for the cultural, historical, and social context behind it.

so lemme get back to why i think this movie got a best picture nom.  i think the academy wants to keep up their appearance of being #woke now by continuing to nominate more than one poc-heavy project each year, but they seem to be caring less and less about the actual overall quality of these movies.  and theres even some movies on the noms list that i think actually have what it takes to be a strong oscars contender, like If Beale Street Could Talk and BlacKkKlansmen.  but i think in Black Panther’s case, they were under a lot of pressure to give it top noms (or any noms at all) because of the intensely positive response this movie got, as well as the accusations of racism to people who didnt think it was as great as fans were saying. 

also i have no doubt that Supreme Overlord Disney like threw piles and piles of money at the academy like they tend to do (cause i’d bet good money thats the only fucken way Incredibles 2 got nominated for anything)

well anyway ive gone on long enough about this, lemme know what y’all think.  really the only nom im iffy about when it comes to this movie is Best Picture, but the others i think are well enough deserved, especially costume design.  so i guess the one thing i struggle with is this: does a movie becoming a pop culture phenomenon and being groundbreaking in its cast and crew count as enough for it to be nominated for the top prize of the wiener awards, despite any fallbacks in script, direction, and acting?  idk man im just hoping it doesnt get the award by default or something but then again maybe after watching all the other nominees it may turn out that the rest of them were worse than Black Panther i guess i’ll have to find out

stay tuned for my A Star Is Born review y’all stay fresh and funky eat ur vegetables stay in school u dont need drugs when ur high on life

[cj-jacobs]

Guys, I had the most bizarrely detailed Bechloe dream last night - I dreamed that I was on like a tour bus (???) with a bunch of other Bechloe shippers, and one whole wall of the bus was lined with TV monitors, and we were watching a deleted scene or something. Basically it was like camera phone footage, supposed to be filmed by Fat Amy at Beca and Chloe’s engagement party.  As soon as I woke up I tried to transcribe it in as much detail as I could remember - I don’t think it’s worth writing as a fic, but here it is in script format.  

**********

(amateur phone camera footage opens with most of the Bellas, drinks in hand, grouped around tables near a lake, all of them staring at something in the distance)

AMY: (voice offscreen) Aubrey.  Talk to me.  Why so miffed?

AUBREY:  I’m not miffed.  It’s just that when you throw an engagement party for someone, you generally expect the engaged couple to interact with the rest of the guests, at some point.  I cut the music like twenty minutes ago, and they’re still slow-dancing.

STACIE:  You know, I haven’t talked to either one of them yet.  They do know this party is for them, right?

CYNTHIA-ROSE:  Yeah, but come on, how can y’all even be mad when they look that happy.  After everything they been through?

AUBREY: (sighs, expression softens) That’s true.  They do look really happy.

(Amy swings the camera around and what at first seems like one person comes into the frame, off in the distance, but as she zooms in it’s revealed to be two people pressed together, Beca and Chloe, arms wrapped around each other.  They’re near the boathouse, almost in the shadow of the building as if they’re trying to hide, ostensibly slow-dancing but really just hanging onto each other and vaguely swaying)

FLO: Is it really considered dancing if there’s no music and they never move?

(brief silence as everyone contemplates this)

AMY:  Good question.  You know what?  Think I’ll go investigate.  And also, remind them of our existence.

AUBREY:  Oh, Amy.  (doubtful)  Are you sure you want to do that?

AMY: Don’t worry, Sarge.  I got this.

(as they swing out of the frame the Bellas’ faces are a mixture of uncertainty and amused anticipation)

AMY: (muttering to herself as she approaches the boathouse) Let’s just see what the new fiancés are up to.  Way off by themselves over here.  Excluding us all.  

(Beca and Chloe seem oblivious to her presence as she approaches; they’re apparently having some kind of meandering, lazy conversation, but it’s a mixture of words, smiles, sustained eye contact, and occasional nuzzles and light kisses; Beca has just leaned forward and completed one of these when Chloe finally realizes that someone has appeared on their periphery)

CHLOE: Oh.  (she turns her head, causing Beca to turn her head as well) We have company.  

(Chloe looks surprised but not displeased; Beca looks unsurprised but less-than-thrilled; they pull apart just slightly but don’t actually let go of one another, keeping at least one arm around each other for the entire conversation)

CHLOE: Hi, Amy.

AMY: Heeyyy.  Excuse the interruption.  We didn’t want to disturb your privacy.

BECA:  And yet, here you are.

AMY:  (not sorry) Yeah, well.

CHLOE: (glowing and looking nearly intoxicated with joy)  That’s okay.  You’re not disturbing us.

AMY:  Cool.  Then, allow me to just document this moment…  (She zooms in on Chloe, who obliges by smiling and giving a little wave) Here we have the radiant, blushing bride-to-be.  And, next to her...

(focus pivots to Beca, who still looks annoyed)

AMY:  The other... bride-to-be.  Not quite so radiant.

(Chloe’s profile appears in the frame as she wraps her arms around Beca from the side and kisses her cheek)

AMY: But now, also blushing.  Much to her chagrin.

(Chloe giggles; Beca tries hard not to smile)

BECA: What can we do for you, Amy?

AMY:  Don’t be mad.  Just wanted to know what we’re talking about over here?  So secretly.  Wedding plans, I presume.

CHLOE: (hesitant, looking at Beca)  Ummm, sort of.

(Beca gives her a comical warning look, which Chloe acknowledges but blithely ignores)

CHLOE:  (whispering confidentially to the camera) Honeymoon plans, actually.

AMY:  Ahhh.  Planning the big getaway.  So, I take it you’re gonna go somewhere awesome, like... Fiji.  Or Fort Lauderdale.

CHLOE: (bemused) Something like that, yeah.  We haven’t really nailed it down yet.  But there’s gonna be a beach, for sure.

AMY: And I can assume that we’re all invited, yeah?

BECA: (quickly) You can not.  Assume that.  Because you are definitely not invited.

AMY: (pretending shock) Whaaat?

CHLOE: (laughing) Aww.

BECA:  Not even a little invited.

AMY:  Well, maybe we’ll just come for like, the last weekend, of your honeymoon.  

BECA: Nope.  None of it.  There will be no Bellas, on this honeymoon.  Except for these two. (gestures at herself and Chloe) Right here.

AMY: Beca.  (sighs) I think you’re not focusing on how much more awesome it’ll be, with us there.  Picture it.  We’ll have some group snorkeling.  Some mai tais on the beach.  Maybe some swimming with sharks...

CHLOE:  You mean dolphins?

AMY:  Yeeaahhh.  Sure.  If you want to take their word for it.

(Chloe looks confused)

BECA: The thing is, I actually don’t need to picture any of that?  Because it’s not gonna happen.  Since you’re not invited.  And if I do those things, I will be doing them with my wife.  No one else.

CHLOE: (thrilled by these words, points at herself and mouths to the camera) That’s me.

AMY: Well, I do see your point. (in a negotiating tone) All right, then, tell you what we’ll do.  We’ll all show up… at your hotel… and then, if you do want to hang out with us, we’ll be there.  

CHLOE: (humoring her) Got it.

AMY: And if you don’t want to hang out with us… we will also… be there.  So, either way, it works out.

CHLOE: (starting to get on board) Yeah, actually, I can kinda see how that works out.

BECA:  Orrr, how about this.  We don’t tell you where we’re going, so you have no idea where we are.  And so you can’t crash our hotel, and ruin our honeymoon.  Maybe that’s how it works out.

AMY: (deeply skeptical) Mmmm.  (turns to Chloe) Chloe?  What’s the verdict?

CHLOE: (looks back and forth between Beca and Amy, torn) Maybe just the very last weekend?  That could be fun.  Like a little reunion.

BECA: (laughing, raising her eyebrows at Chloe) You’re serious, aren’t you?  You would actually let them come on our honeymoon.

(Chloe hunches her shoulders a little and smiles hopefully at her; the two of them don’t say anything for a few seconds but seem to be reading each other’s faces and communicating without words)

AMY: (whispering) Psychic conversation happening here.  Little creepy, to be honest.

BECA: (finally heaves a huge sigh and rolls her eyes, but she’s still smiling) Okay. (to Amy) Maybe for like, one day.  At the very end.  And we’re not paying for it.

AMY: (clenched fist of victory appears in frame)  Yes.  Overruled.  (gloating) You know, you should probably get used to that.  Have a feeling it’s going to be happening many times, over the coming years.

CHLOE:  (with a subtle wink at Beca) She’s right, you probably should get used to that.

AMY:  Hang on, what’s that sound?  (zooms in on Beca’s face)  Beca Mitchell.  HBIC.  (attempts whip sound effect) Wha-pssh.

BECA: (remaining laudably patient)  You should probably go.

AMY: You think?  Yeah, should probably quit while I’m ahead.  All right then.  I’m off.  Enjoy your… canoodling.  As you continue rubbing our faces in your disgusting bliss.  (calling back as she’s walking away) Love you.

CHLOE: Love you too, Amy!

(After a few seconds, as if she can’t resist, she turns back around and they come into the frame again; Beca is grinning and shaking her head at Chloe, but as if to settle the argument once and for all Chloe pulls her forward into a deep and long-lasting kiss, a kiss that isn’t messing around, and almost before the kiss is even finished she’s tugging Beca in the direction of the boathouse; Beca laughs but doesn’t hesitate, letting herself be dragged along, and the two of them slip inside the wooden structure and pull the door shut after them)

AMY:  Hmm.  Three guesses what they’re gonna get up to in there.  Probably doesn’t involve boating.

(She turns and heads back to the rest of the Bellas, still grouped at the dock, who look at her questioningly as she approaches)

STACIE: Well?

AMY: (as she approaches) Good news, bitches!  We’re all officially going on the honeymoon!

(They all look at each other, a mixture of disbelief, surprise and excitement)

CYNTHIA-ROSE: For real?

AMY: Yeahhh!  I got us invites!  So, get ready to swim with sharks in Ft. Lauderdale!

(There’s a long beat of confusion in which everyone tries to figure this out)

AUBREY: What?

(footage ends and screen goes black)

[cksmart-world]

The completely unnecessary news analysis

by Christopher Smart

February 16, 2021

MIKE LEE'S GRANDCHILDREN: WHO'S MIKE LEE?

Bob: Man, that takeover of the Capitol on Jan. 6 was sure nasty.

Mike Lee: What takeover?

Bob: You know, the one where a cop got killed and a woman was shot to death.

Mike Lee: I really didn't notice.

Bob: Remember Trump told all his groupies to come to D.C. and then he told thousands of them to march to the Capitol and take back the country from evil Democrats.

Mike Lee: Well, I don't think Trump had anything to do with that. It just kinda happened.

Bob: No, no, no. For two months Trump said the election was stolen and Fox said it was stolen and Trump said come to D.C. on Jan. 6, it will be wild.

Mike Lee: I think that was Antifa and Black Lives Matter. White people wouldn't do that. White people are patriots — at least the Republicans are.

Bob: Didn't you see all the video of the Proud Boys and the Oath Keepers and the Shaman with horns? They were beating on cops and tearing the Capitol to bits. They wanted to hang Mike Pence and Nancy Pelosi.

Mike Lee: Video? What Video?

Bob: Come on, Trump was trying to overthrow our democracy. He called the election rigged and got his groupies frothing at the mouth.

Mike Lee: President Trump is like Abe Lincoln. Maybe he should just take a Mulligan.

Bob: Hey Mike, your unborn grandchildren will disown you. And you deserve it.

“TASTELESS” HOUSEWIVES OF SLC HITS THE BIG TIME

Salt Lake Tribune ace Scott Pierce must be doing backflips now that “The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City” reality TV show is featured in the recent issue of the high-brow New Yorker magazine. Scott likes to keep his readers up to date on every thing those “housewives” are up to. They hang around their McMansions in low-cut cocktail dresses, pearls and spike heels. And when they get together — look out. In one segment Jen Shaw retorts to a slight from Mary Crosby, saying, “Well, you fucked your grandfather.” And it's true: Mary got her family's empire of Pentecostal churches and she's loaded. But to do it she had to marry her dead grandmother's second husband — her own step-grandfather. (You can't make this stuff up.) The foil for a lot of their real lives, of course, is the Mormon church. As Doreen St. Felix writes, Real Housewives of SLC incorporates “cultural politics into the sketchy morality of a guilty pleasure.” No wonder Scott's readers love it. The staff here at Smart Bomb is just guessing, but Scott's columns on “Housewives” probably get more web hits than say a bill pending in the Legislature to relax requirements for cosmetologists. But don't expect anyone at church to bear testimony relating to “Housewives,” 'cause nobody in the ward has ever seen it. Hey Wilson, no laughing.

THOSE DAMN HOMELESS PEOPLE AND THEIR POOP

Why don't they do something about all the homeless people. They say it's all Reagan's fault because he closed mental facilities and slashed the budget for affordable housing. But that was 40 years ago and there're still people with mental illness on the street and no affordable housing. So why doesn't the mayor wave a magic wand and make it go away? Some people say the minimum wage of $7.35 and rents that start at $900 a month make it impossible for low wage earners to make it. But why don't those single moms with little kids just pull themselves up by their bootstraps, like Burgess Owens. There are well over a million homeless Americans and they don't have toilets or trash cans. That's why there's garbage and poop where they camp — even downtown. Some people think they like being homeless so they can live out in the rain and drink warm beer and poop behind dumpsters. Police hassle them 'cause camping is illegal. Ben McAdams and Gary Herbert tried to fix it, but after all that talk, they couldn't. Maybe the problem is bigger than we'd like to admit. Homeless people don't have any pull in Washington, so the next time you step in poop, you might want to wrap it up and send it to Burgess Owens and Chris Stewart. It probably won't help but you'll feel better.

Post script — Holy history. People are going to be writing about this past week for decades to come and it won't be pretty. The president, who had just lost an election, fomented an insurrection in order to stay in office. Of course, Republicans refused to convict him after he was impeached. But like Republican Senate Leader Mitch McConnell said, Trump was absolutely responsible for the rebellion. Then McConnell voted to acquit. So in keeping with the season, the staff here at Smart Bomb is giving it's Marie Antoinette Smartie Award to McConnell for “Eating His Cake and Having It, Too.” For his part in the insurrection, in which he was the first senator who would not certify Joe Biden's election, Missouri Sen. Josh Hawley wins the Jefferson Davis Smartie for stirring insurgency and then retreating to the rear with a smirk of self-righteousness. His sleazy compatriot, Sen. Ted Cruz, just couldn't stay out of the limelight, either. He gets the Aaron Burr Award for his insidious patriotic subterfuge. The staff here at Smart Bomb saved the biggest Smartie of all, the Benedict Arnold Award, for Sen. Lindsay Graham of South Carolina and his ability to kiss Trump's ass even while complementing the Emperor on his New Clothes. Now that's multi-tasking.

Well, Wilson, that was one hell of a week. We know the guys in the band had to seek sedation to stay sane, but tell me they're thinking clearly enough to make some sense of ... whatever this is and play something to help us through these trying times:

Well, did you ever wake up, With them bullfrogs on your mind? Well, did you ever wake up, With them bullfrogs on your mind? You had to sit there laughin', Laughin' just to keep from crying. My mother got em, My father got em, My sister got em, My brother got em. I woke up this morning, My grandmother had them too, Well, don't you know about that, I got the bullfrog blues. Bullfrog

Well, did you ever wake up, With them bullfrogs on your mind? Well, did you ever wake up, With them bullfrogs on your mind? You had to sit there laughin', Laughin' just to keep from crying.

(Bullfrog Blues — Canned Heat)

[chonzu]

Familiar Voice

A/N: Alright well Ray and I talked about this idea and I liked it a lot so! I attempted to write it. I’ve got more coming I’m just...school and work lol. It’s a grocery store AU, Aizawa being the jaded worker and Hizashi being that peppy new coworker. Have fun asdfd.

AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11879799

In classic Nemuri nature, she responded almost instantly.

You've never asked about another coworker before.

He was gonna strangle her. He hesitated, wondering if he should even respond. Shouta?

He just seems familiar is all.

There's something to be said for how little he enjoyed his own job. Morning, noon, evening, overnights—no matter what shift he chose, he woke up the next day just as exhausted as before, his mind fuzzy with static. He found that opening earlier in the morning was better for his tastes, at least, for spending the entire evening sleeping and barely waking up long enough to make some shitty microwave ramen and drink some juice. The monotony of day to day work held his soul in a cold, dead grasp, but he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to pull away from it. Perhaps the only light in the darkness was working early enough in the morning that he was usually there when the kids were in school, and left by the time they got out.

So he got up at five AM as he always did, stumbled through his room, brushed his teeth, took a shower, put on his white and black uniform, and stared briefly at his pantry before he shut it dully and started for the door. It was chilly, still early fall, so he wrapped his scarf around his neck and shoulders and shuffled away from the apartment. No one greeted him. Few people walked the streets. The city was barely lighting up, the sky a soft pastel splash of blues, greens, and creams. It was the time of morning when people, the city, life itself, didn't exist. He could barely remember what happened each morning on the chilly streets and he became even less attentive when he stepped into the fluorescent lit store he worked at.

All the energy he had mustered up this morning left his body in a weird fight or flight response. Immediately he got the urge to turn around and go home, but he fought against himself as he walked around the various isles and displays, heading directly for the back of the store. He still had about fifteen minutes left until he started and didn't feel like finding anything to eat off the shelves; it all looked like garbage so early in the morning. When life didn't exist, neither did his appetite, and he knew he would be regretting that by lunch time, like he did nearly every single day.

Thankfully, the supermarket didn't pick up till sometime around eleven. It was the middle of the week, a Wednesday morning, and while the kids were at school many of the adults were laying in wait for a trip on the weekends for school lunches and dinners. It was nothing but the occasional cashiering and stocking and answering questions, all of which barely registered in his mind as he spat out script after script, laughing weakly at the jokes he'd heard every single day for the past two years.

His first break and lunch were fine. Quiet. Everyone in the store was too tired to give a shit and he sat in the corner eating some food he got from across the street. On his last break, an hour before he was about to go home, he saw an unfamiliar person. Now, he didn't go out of his way to talk to the other employees. He came here to work, go home, and then sleep, but he'd gotten to know Nemuri and Tensei quite a bit. If 'quite a bit' counted as 'these two occasionally say hi to me and offer me rides home in the afternoons if they get off around the same time as me' counted. Perhaps he was a bit antisocial, but it wasn't in his nature to be too talkative when there was nothing to talk about anyway—not to mention, he was always tired. Exhausted. So when this strange man sat down across the table already chatting it up with one of the other employees Aizawa knew he was going to be just as exhausted, if not more exhausted, than before.

He tried to shift around to avoid this new man by placing his bag in front of him. It barely blocked him from view, even with his scarf covering half his face, and before he knew it the new guy was turning and grinning at him with a sort of energy he'd only ever seen in the newbies or someone who had that extreme dedication to something as futile as a customer service. Aizawa couldn't be quite sure exactly which category this man fit in, but he could feel deep down in his bones that--

“Hey! Why are you all bundled up in the corner over there?” Ah. Aizawa lifted his gaze to stare at him, taking in the bright green eyes and hair made of literal sunshine. Under these lights, it almost hurt his eyes how bright and glowing it was, and he had to look down at the table to stop himself from saying some cold, witty remark. “Not talkative?” “No he's just tired,” a girl piped up from another corner. She smiled at the two of them, looking up from messing around with her fingernails. “But, I mean, you're not quite wrong.” “I don't need you to be talking about me while I'm right here, thanks,” Aizawa grumbled, running a hand through his hair. He gathered his stuff in his satchel and tied his hair back. When he stood up without saying another word the new blond man nearly stumbled over his own words and thankfully decided to keep his mouth shut. Of course he started up again with Nemuri the second he left, but good riddance. He wasn't in the mood to be chatty today and wasn't sure if he could muster up the energy to attempt a nice conversation with him. At least Nemuri understood and normally just texted him, and Tensei was happy enough just to chat out loud and listen to his grunting.

But no, this new man insisted on chatting with him. With anyone. Aizawa wasn't sure if he just hadn't gotten the hint or if he genuinely liked it. Everyone was trained in the ways of customer service, like be nice, smile, help the customer, but this man went above and beyond. He had that natural ability to draw customers and employees in. Charismatic in every way, doing whatever he could to be active, never missing a beat and succeeding in everything Aizawa had resented since the first day he'd worked there.

Aizawa's stomach churned and he held his head in his hand, staring directly at the candy stand across from the register. Just five more minutes and he would be free from this hell, eyelids already drooping at the thought of crawling into sleeping bag with his cat and forgetting that morning had ever existed. The new man—Yamada, as far as he knew—happily swept some of the isles across the store and he could hear him from all the way over here; voice quirk, apparently, and he was going on about something that felt vaguely familiar to him that he couldn't quite pinpoint it.

Finally his time came and he ripped off his apron with the vigor of an American super hero. He folded it up neatly and draped it over his arm as he scurried across the store, hoping with all his might that no one was going to get in his way or stop him. Most everyone knew not to mess with him on his way out, thankfully, and he let the voices of customers and employees wash over him like the buzz of a television or ambient noises of the city. Something that was just there, that he didn't need to pay full attention to,  that he didn't have to waste his energy on.

Nemuri always thought he should try to get out more. She was always inviting him to get togethers or lunches because 'you never have anything to say about your life! You never do anything exciting!' but she had no idea how little he truly cared. He had his cat, his sleep, and his shitty microwave ramen and he was just fine. The times when he did crave any human interaction were squashed by the memories of that morning's work and on his days off he was often watching TV or enjoying some time in the nearby park watching the ducks float in the pond. If he didn't truly care, then maybe he just didn't want to hang out with anyone. Twenty two years old with fleeting dreams of becoming a hero and he was trapped here in this twenty-four/seven grocery store with no idea where he wanted to go with his life.

Everyone told him he would be able to go far in life even if he hadn't done anything after graduating from high school. It wasn't the end of anything, but he wasn't sure where to start. Going to work, despite all of its flaws and unpleasant interactions, was the only thing that gave his life structure. He hadn't found a career yet, even if his quirk was promising. He wanted something that was on the down low, outside of the public eye, where he could operate under conditions he felt comfortable with.

Aizawa had no idea how to reach that. He barely made it to the front door, his scarf around his shoulders and hair let loose, when he was interrupted by Yamada. The man practically skidded to a stop in front of him, broom in hand, and hair in a messy bun coming loose with each movement he made. “Hey, you look like you could use some cheering up, listener!” Yamada's voice grated his ears. He blinked slowly, unsure what to say. “I'd say I'm fine.” “Really? You look kinda glum.” Aizawa shrugged, running a hand through his hair. He absentmindedly scratched his jaw, staring at something that wasn't the bright man in front of him. “Does it matter what I am?” he asked. “It's not really affecting you and I'm getting my job done. Shouldn't you be training?” “Surprise! I'm a transfer.” His bright green eyes lit up. “Well, technically, I'm from a different chain, but these guys hired me on when I moved here so I guess in a way, I'm a transfer. The systems here aren't really any different.” Of course. Rubbing his face, Aizawa let out a sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Looking at Yamada with tired eyes, he could only shake his head before muttering, “yes, fine, okay.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “But, listen, I just really want to go home right now.” The ball of sunshine looked like he was going to protest, but to Aizawa's relief he shrugged a bit. His smile never faltered though, and he pointed at him dramatically. Then, in another language, “That's alright! I'll probably see you tomorrow afternoon then, listener!” Why does he call him listener.

Why does he speak in perfect fucking English.

Aizawa took his first steps out of the supermarket for the evening and let out a tension-filled breath that he didn't know he was holding. Dazed, he glanced left and right, getting a hold of his surroundings, and made his way toward his apartment a few miles down the street.

Getting there was nothing special, but when he opened his door he greeted the tortoiseshell cat that circled his ankles and lifted her into his arms. She rubbed her cheek across his stubble and he kissed her forehead, holding her in his arms all the way over to his plain gray couch. Aizawa sat there for a few minutes, letting his cat lay across his chest and soaking in the deep purrs that warmed his heart.

He wasn't sure when, but he'd fallen asleep for at least a few hours, waking up to a haze of warmth and a blanket haphazardly thrown across his body that he must have grabbed from the floor while he was asleep.  The sky was darkening into blues and greens, the glow of the city bathing the canopy of skyscrapers and apartments in a deep golden hue that hurt his eyes as it filtered in through the slats of his blinds. He sat up with a grunt and gathered his cat into his arms, holding her against his chest as he went and closed the them.

His phone buzzed with a few missed texts from Tensei, but for the time being he pulled it out of his pocket, dropped it on the counter, and opened his fridge to look for anything to eat. Tomorrow after work he'd have to pick up some fruit, rice, and some more of the ramen he ate, but for now he pulled out a sandwich from last night and heated it up in the microwave. His cat jumped out of his arms to meow at him from beside her food dish and he abandoned his sandwich to dump a cup full of kibble into it. He couldn't help but run his hand down her back all the way down to the tip of her tail as she purred and ate happily.

For the first time that whole day he actually smiled. It was weak and soft, disappearing as his phone buzzed again. He hauled himself back to his feet and picked it up, swiping the messages across the screen to clear them. The newest one was Nemuri asking if he worked tomorrow, but he didn't feel like answering, so he put it on the charger, finished his sandwich, and made his way to his room, going through his nightly ritual of cleaning up and putting on a long-sleeved sweater and sweat pants to wear to bed.

Aizawa hoped, as he crawled into his sleeping bag with his cat right next to him, that the sunny-haired man didn't work tomorrow. He wasn't sure if he could handle him for two days in a row, but he also couldn't help but wonder why he seemed so familiar. He scratched his cat's cheek and rolled over to face the wall. It didn't matter. It was a waste of time thinking about it, if it didn't affect anything besides the nagging in the back of his mind.

But he had to settle it. It wouldn't stop bugging him. It took him a little while, but he crawled out of his sleeping bag (to the protest of his cat) and padded into the kitchen. He held his phone, squinting at the all too bright lighting, his heart falling when he realized it was already on the lowest brightness. He paused, taking a deep breath, and sent a message to Nemuri.

That new guy. Do we know him?

In classic Nemuri nature, she responded almost instantly.

You've never asked about another coworker before.

He was gonna strangle her. He hesitated, wondering if he should even respond.

Shouta?

He just seems familiar is all.

Maybe someone from back in high school. He didn't grow up here, as far as I know.

Ok

That didn't satisfy his curiosity. So he turned to Tensei, who he could practically feel start to laugh as soon as he sent the text.

I'm surprised. Do you want to be friends with him? I could introduce you two properly.

No. He just seems familiar.

You sure? I've never seen him before.

But Aizawa has. Somewhere. He shook his head with a sigh and went back to his sleeping bag. Was it Yamada's voice? His movements? Thinking back, it was definitely how he talked that sparked that familiarity, but he didn't watch TV or listen to the radio often.

His cat curled up against his neck when he finally got settled. He wasn't sure if he wanted to ask this new man about himself or if he should just drop the feeling. Maybe in the morning he'd forget about this or feel different, but he kind of hoped he'd just forget about it.