#If Poor Things is too hard to understand then start with an easier film

[femme-dor]

Sometimes avant-garde art films with themes you’re supposed to figure out on your own aren’t actually “bad” & you’re just upset America Ferrera didn’t stand up in the middle of it to explain what the movie is about.

[oletus-manors-log]

Hey! I just wanted to say I love your work and your recent Orpheus drabble was super good! I was wondering if you could do a short story about Orpheus confessing to the survivor!reader? (GN) I understand that short story’s might take longer then headcanons and dabbles, so please take as much time as you need! Thanks again 🫶

OBSERVER'S NOTE :

“ Hello, and thank you so much for the compliment for my recent work on Orpheus! As for the confession, I believe I can make it work with the headcannons I have listed in the past.

I'm not too sure if there's anything else you'd like for me to add with the story, so I decided to make it happen in a... Special match. Although it can be a terrible place to confess... Well, sometimes it can work out in your favor. ”

Golden Hour

The match, needless to say, was a mess.

Orpheus couldn't tell whether he regretted having to come in because he's up against himself (or, really, what he sees himself as), or the fact that he's seeing the slow descent of the match after the first 60 second chair.

As he saw the raven bird chase after the enchantress and with the journalist on her second chair, he stuck to decoding in wedding hall. The pallets were thrown in advance by him, so it would make things easier.

Since the progress wasn't done before he arrived, he had done quick work on decoding it. Although, he didn't seem to notice when someone else joined him during the halfway mark of the cipher, one cipher actually done and Alice rescued off of it.

"Seems like you're struggling over there, aren't you?"

He flinched and looked over towards the speaker, noticing that it was Alice. Ah, she was patched up— good, that means that someone rescued her.

"Perhaps," he said idly, focusing his attention on the cipher machine before it malfunctioned and electrocuted him. "But it isn't like miss Dorval is struggling against him. She's been kiting for us and you're on your last legs after being chaired twice."

Alice shakes her head as she turned the knobs of the machine.

"I'll be fine. I'll just have to stay out of sight for the time being— it can't be that hard, can't it?"

... Hm, she only has one film left, he noted, sparing a glance at the camera. She will have to make sure he doesn't catch her— her mirages of me when I was younger is... Quite a feat. It could keep him distracted if such a miracle can happen.

[ Beware! The hunter has changed target! ]

The two looked up as a crow flies over to their cipher. Orpheus shoves Alice off of it so it would fly over to the novelist, sprinting like a madman to the pallet to vault and start running out.

"Keep decoding!"

He ran straight to the church, feeling smoke permeate the air as it swirled and manifested behind him. The sound of a deafening thud echoed as Nightmare, their hunter of the match, appeared behind him, causing him to falter if not for the reminder that he would be killed if he stayed standing.

"I did not expect for you to take it instead of miss DeRoss, Orpheus," spoke the nightmarish entity as it chased him, footsteps thundering as the novelist sprinted to the window to vault. "Why? Are you trying to relive the feeling of a good chase from the past?"

Truly, he fits the name and title for himself— Nightmare, the novelist thought bitterly. It's almost like he was "invited" to haunt the poor novelist even in (metaphorically, of course) death.

"I believe we both know why. I don't wish for her to die in this match after you targeted her."

"Hm? But why not? It's quite... Amusing, is it not?" He scoffed, his gaze focused on him as the novelist continued to keep distance, making sure to break out of line of sight from the latter so he can't focus on him. "For her to take your place after she was grown, after you went missing—"

"I don't want to be reminded of that incident."

"Oh, I know that. But you'd know better than for me to let it go, would you?"

Ah, he should have known. Why the hell would he let it go, hm?

Instead of replying, he went through a pallet— this time, passing by someone he didn't expect.

SLAM!

"Go!"

He felt the wind push him as he turned to see a certain survivor stunning the looming hunter, attire ragged despite wearing it for God knows how long. He could only whisper a "good luck" as he sprinted to the window, vaulting over it before running off.

The only thing he could hear from outside of the church was the aggravated yell of Nightmare, followed by daring taunts that he could recognize all too well.

... You never change, do you? Ever the daredevil, he thought with a chuckle, this time sprinting to another cipher to decode.

Despite the mishaps from before, Orpheus could see that it proceeded as smoothly as it possibly could, considering the bird had his sights on you and not the novelist. Unfortunately for Nightmare, you were one of the few that never saw danger as one to be feared.

In the survivor faction, you were a force to be reckoned with; someone with such a job that can spell trouble to those whose never heard of it.

Your occupation was of a trickster, one assigned like the Acrobat and the Weeping Clown if it weren't for your malicious streak. Reckoned by many hunters as a "hunter in a survivor's body", you were called by many as a horseman of chaos, bringing about destruction in your wake.

So far, only few had managed to keep you down, but even the novelist knew you would find a way to make them regret their misdeeds.

Truthfully. Orpheus feared you. Unlike him, you saw danger akin to a pet, and not once did he understood what makes you tick. But perhaps, much like your occupation, you live your life in constant terror.

The way your eyes gleam as you evade Nightmare's attacks was one of such cases, and he couldn't help but fathom on how you look so... Alive.

... So free.

Alas, it had been the last cipher and he had it primed. Nightmare had already chaired you once, but by some miracle, Alice had got you out of the chair and you were kiting the man like your life depended on it. And, well, it did— you were keeping Alice from being chaired the third time as both of you were injured.

But it didn't last long when he saw the crow fly over to his cipher, and he could hear the ping from you and Alice that he's switching targets.

Back to me, I suppose.

Pulling away from the cipher, he pinged that it was primed and started sprinting, hearing the wind pull itself and manifest the living terror in his waking life. To him, he saw the man as one of monstrosity, whereas most cannot see it that way. It terrified him that only a few, such as him, can see the raven for what he is.

Swiftly getting hit with the sharp tip, he stumbled from the window he was about to vault, causing yet another deep gash to form on his back. He gritted in pain as he felt blood seep through and taint his white coat, coating it in crimson.

—And then, the two could hear the deafening pop.

Thus, the sirens follow, and mark the 'endgame' of their match.

With the sudden boost of adrenaline, he sped off, his legs screaming as he heard Nightmare's ghoulish calls. Still, he paid no heed as he looked back, constantly pinging the rest of his team of Nightmare's ventures.

Detention... A trait that no man or monster understood. Miss Nightingale briefed everyone on it when they first came here, and he still recall what she told to their group.

Detention is a trait that every hunter possesses— a trait that, when activated, causes the hunter to give into the carnal desires to kill any survivor in its wake.

No one understood how to counter it. If anything, all they can do was run. Run until they were sure that it was safe.

For those who do not will be slaughtered in its wake.

Reaching the open gates, he could hear your calls as you yelled for him to get out— that you would cover for him.

His eyes widened at this. At the state of Nightmare and with Detention of all things, the last thing he'd want is for you to be slaughtered instead of him.

He cannot have that. He won't have that. Over his dead corpse.

"No!" he yelled, yanking your wrist when you went back to bodyblock for him, pulling you forward with such strength that many do not think he would have the capability to posses. "Go! Get out, now!"

With one last curse to have Nightmare go through such pain, you and the others got out, leaving the deserted church and the cries of Nightmare in the wake of a survivor's win.

After the stressful match, he had to go to Emily as he was still injured from Nightmare. Despite the adrenaline for when the last cipher was popped, he felt the fatigue crash on him hard after they had left, and he didn't want to deal with Emily getting (justifiably) upset at his own recklessness.

Although, there was another reason on why he had to go to Emily. It was for something else... Something that he wanted to speak to her about. Alone.

"... I see," Emily murmured, currently patching up Orpheus's back with a few stitches. Checking for other injuries, she sighed, facing the novelist with a knowing look in her eye.

"I don't wish to undermine your efforts, Orpheus, but they're... Well, they live up to their occupation. Are you sure you'd want to look for them? Even I'm not sure on where they have went off to this time."

Orpheus chuckled, giving her a smile as he answered, "I'm sure. I believe I know my limits, miss Dyer. After all, I have dealt with them the longest, have I not?"

You were... A mystery to him. Something that needed to be solved. Despite how long you and him were, in the lack of terms, friends... He never really knew the answer for his question since he's known you.

Just what it is that makes you so interesting to him?

"I suppose you'd be right on that," Emily replied, shaking her head as she wrapped the bandages around his waist. "Well, I believe they went to Moonlit River Park. I tried to ask why, but all they said was that they have a show to prepare and didn't want to be late."

Tying it off right afterwards, she dug through her pockets and handed Orpheus a note. The paper was yellow and worn, but he could recognize the handwriting peeking out... Couple with a few scribbles. You were always fond of drawing in your notes, he noticed.

"Here," she said, smiling exasperatedly. "They also wanted me to give you this. Now, don't strain yourself too much, okay?"

With a nod, the brunette took the note and bid his goodbyes to the doctor, leaving the clinic. He walked down the hall, opening the note that she gave him to see what you wrote for him.

In the note, it reads...

Hello, hello, mister novelist! Surprised to get a note from yours truly, are you? ☆

Now, now... I know you must be wondering where I went! And you know me well by now, Orpheus— I am not one to give such a straight answer. Why, if I am, I'd certainly lose the title of being a 'trickster', wouldn't I?

Anyway, I'd like to play a... Game with you. How does hide and seek sound? It'd be like those we play in matches. Ah, but with less killing, of course.

I want you to find me. The doctor already told me where I am, so I implore you, Orpheus—

"—find me, and find the piece I seek."

... A peculiar note indeed.

Now, he was no detective. Unlike Alice, he never dabbled quite well into detective work; he used to do that if he needed first hand experience on writing a thriller book. However, with the manor hosting various events that does consist of solving mysteries...

Well. He cannot say that he didn't have experience on dealing with them in his downtime.

Checking the back of the note, he raised an eyebrow at the sight of the note. From an unobservant eye, they'd chalk it off as something normal. But to him, he knew you enough to have something hidden in an ordinary object.

Raising up the note against the light, he hummed at the sight, reading the note more clearly.

Big tent.

...

How cheeky.

Rolling his eyes out of amusement, he lowered the note and trudged on to Moonlit River Park. This time... He has a date, and he isn't going to be late.

Arriving at the big tent of Moonlit River Park, he can see the sight of the thrown pallets around and some abandoned attractions on stage. The basement was sealed, so he assumed that it would be open on the two story building.

What was it? Hullabaloo? He should to check the name again when he sees it.

Walking on the stairs of the stage, he inspected the entire tent, noticing the sight of a note plastered on the wall. It was the same as the letter he retrieved from Emily, so he had no hesitation to take it.

Checking the front of the note, he red through what you wrote this time.

If you found this note, then I was right to put my faith in you, Orpheus. You know my tricks enough to figure out where my note was lying about, huh? Maybe I should up the ante of this game of ours...

Haha! I'm kidding, of course. Why would I? It'd be terrible if your 2nd hint is in a place you can't find so easily.

Anyway, to find where it is, the answer is what you're reading. If you're confused or, mayhaps, lost... Read it again. You'll see what I mean.

... See? What in the world...

His brows furrowed as he red through the note again. There was something in those words, and if he can take your statement for what it is...

...

Rereading through it again, he can see a pattern. From your writing, it was hard to tell, but there were letters that are emphasized more than others.

... I'm at 2nd stop. Hah, how cheeky of you.

Tucking the note away, he left the stage and raised one of the flaps, running out of it. The faint chime of the circus music echoed around the map, haunting yet nostalgic for those that have witnessed its glory. For Orpheus, though, that brought some... Awful memories of his losses there.

... Ah, he can't be reminiscing now. He needn't remember what happened in one of his visits here.

Reaching the other side of the large map, he could see a bird perched up on the rails, perking up to see the novelist arriving by the stairs. With a chirp, the blue bird flew to him, its claws carrying another letter.

Whispering a 'thanks' to the bird, he watched it fly off before opening the third letter in his hands.

Moonlit River Park is a beautiful place, isn't it? Regardless of what many may think, the circus holds a special place in my heart. Such a shame that the tragedy has ruined it for what it's worth...

... Such is beauty, I suppose. The manor holds such unique yet curious people, just like you.

Where am I going with this? Hm, good question. I wish I have the answer to that, but I'm not sure if I have one. After all, I lack the voice to speak of such a thing, or to answer your inquiries.

Now, if you wish to look for where I really am, you'd know where to find me this time.

Why, I can see you now, little novelist. Look over to your left.

Look ove—

"Boo."

Orpheus could feel his heart give out for a moment, his head whipping to see you peering over him with a cheeky grin. Seeing the look of fear in his face, you couldn't help but laugh, your voice ringing in the air of the abandoned park.

"Ahaha! You should've seen the look on your face, Orphy," you said, amusement ringing in your voice. Jabbing him lightly, you snickered, "Perhaps I should subject you more to such simple mysteries. I'm surprised you manage to get through them!"

Orpheus scoffed. Despite your streak, he swore that you were but a child to someone like him.

"Hmph, and you should know that I have a weak heart. Not everyone can keep a straight face when they're snuck up from behind."

"Yes, yes," you drawled, patting his shoulder. "I suppose that's true. I'll spare you the... Worse I can bring, then."

... Just for me? How kind, he thought, but he didn't voice that out to you in fear of being seen as ungrateful.

"That aside, do you need me for something, [Name]?" he asked, finally facing you, raising an eyebrow at your demeanor. "Forgive me for saying this, but you never reach out to me first other than to cause mischief."

"Oh! Right, about that..."

You paused, your head turning slightly to the side. With a sheepish laugh, you continued, "I just... Wanted to bring you here. I remember you telling me that you never got to see the park when it wasn't used for matches— well, not without Memory, but that's understandable— so-"

Ah... So that's why.

...

Despite your behavior, you have a kind heart.

That is one thing he cannot deny that he liked about you. You may have a sadistic streak, but your kindness will always shine through it.

"... And I thought of getting Antonio as well, because he was planning to perform, and—"

"[Name]," he said, cutting you off. You perked up at him, humming to let him know you were listening. Orpheus couldn't help but let a chuckle slip, giving you a smile that was different from his usual poker face.

This one was more of sincerity— an emotion rarely seen of the novelist.

"Thank you," he continued, his eyes closing for a bit as he let out a soft laugh. "But please, you don't need to do this much for me. If anything, just being here with you is enough."

Before he can stop himself, he reached out to grab your hand, fingers interlocking with yours.

"... If I'm being honest, I am not a man seeking of such lavish and desire simplicity. However, since meeting you, you showed me just how adding a bit of uniqueness and extravagance can make things more memorable."

He could see your eyes widen at his confession, but he continued, as if he didn't wish to stop.

"Truly, I must blame you for claiming my heart as your own— you do it so effortlessly, it feels more like you've know how to weave me into your tales. However, as unfortunate for some, I don't think I'll be able to blame you for stealing it."

Tightening his grip, he reached out and grasped your cheek— watching as you relaxed on his hold.

"Not when I'm about to do a crime of my own, little trickster."

Under the guise of the sundown, the rays begin to emit such a glow that can make things more enchanting to the observant eye.

And a kiss was sealed, the untold confession of the novelist marked in the midst of golden hour.

© ᴏʟᴇᴛᴜs-ᴍᴀɴᴏʀs-ʟᴏɢ | 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟹 ✧ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛs ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ, ʙᴜᴛ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀʀᴇ | ᴀʀᴛ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢs ᴛᴏ ʀɪɢʜᴛғᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀs

[balkanmermaid]

Celestial II (13)

Summary: Hella thinks about Inger and Kamael... and runs into a creature that looks a lot like him.

I can’t say I’m jealous of Kamael. Knowing how much I love my solitude, I’d find it hard to share my time and space with a brother or a sister, or the attention from my parents. Being around Inger feels just like I have an annoying younger sister - granted, not too much younger; we only have a year difference. The more I think about it, though, the more it eats me from the inside. I want to stay in touch with this chick, even though she’s so good at walking on my nerves I want to scream sometimes.

“You don’t hate me, and I don’t hate you. Also, we know each other to an extent, don’t we?” As Kamael settles the bill with some money from each of us, I try to keep something like a conversation going between me and Inger. How much that will work however depends on her, not just on me. And judging by the look on her face, I’m not sure how she’s feeling about our conversations. “I did meet you on the way to the cinema from school,” Inger points out. “I got to find out you read the same nerdy mystery and sci-fi books like me, and watch series and films like the ones I like. And you hated the preps too. Oh yeah, and that part about the bitchiness. Neither of us was finding it easy to make friends, we were both new. And everyone else thought we were weird.”

Kamael’s eyes dart between us for a few seconds. Inga doesn’t show she has noticed that. I’m too consumed by her words to pay attention. He can wait for a bit. I have to make sure we at least have some kind of agreement - regardless of whether Inger ends up being on my side, or not.

“And then you started talking with me. You’d ask if I’d seen any of the other films you liked, and whether I believe in ghosts and aliens and things like that. If I’d ever dyed my hair.” I haven’t. Although it looks like it, with that rare, strange shade of red that’s somewhere between the common rusty red that redheads are usually born with, and the wine red that a dye can turn your hair. Such a weird colour. I hadn’t seen anyone else other than my parents have this kind of hair. “I wanted to stick around. Everyone at school gave me unpleasant vibes. Except for you. And then…” Inger and I keep looking each other in the eyes. I notice with my side vision that Kamael is beginning to feel increasingly awkward, fluttering to my other side twiddling his thumbs out of a lack of idea what to do. Poor guy. I can’t imagine how he must be feeling at this moment, caught between a dramatic reunion of two bitter friends missing each other. “Then I realised choosing between you and the stupid preps was like being stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea.” Inger wrinkles her nose. “I’ve gotten used to you by now. But you don’t make it easy to be friends, Hel. You’re a pleasant company; I could read books with you in complete silence and you’d never ruin the ambiance. I could take you to a concert, I could have you do my makeup, do the groceries or try on clothes with you. But then you… you fuck off. Completely.” “I don’t like people, Inga. I think we’ve established that. People, crowds, too many friends at one place. Too noisy, too stuffed, no thank you.” I roll my eyes. “You’ve known me, and you know this.”

My friend sighs. “Not that I made it any easier. I understand you too well. And maybe that’s what made things hard. I thought you were just like me, and by knowing me, I’d know you. I made an assumption.” “And I did, too. I thought the exact same.” While we talk, we have put on our coats and picked up our bags, and we head out of the restaurant. By the time we have left, darkness has fallen. And a single look around tells me something unexpected is going to happen. Something that maybe none of us is going to be prepared for. And yet, that’s precisely what I’m ready for. I’ve gotten used to something you can’t get used to - a life of uncertainties. Am I going to get mauled by the next creature people pay me to kill? Am I going to get stabbed or shot during or after a gig, or a concert? Is a mad fan going to try and throw a bottle at my head as I sing? (That’s happened a few times. I got to find out the hard way that my head is tougher than a bottle. And there were bandages.) Or am I maybe going to mess up my code and get kicked out of work? Is there ever going to be a job I can rely on completely? Or will I keep wandering life forever? “Hella?” Kamael’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. Inger, him and I have entered what must be a park, or a forest, walking and talking among ourselves as we get further and further away from the restaurant. We’re in the Friedrich-Ludwig-Jahn-Sportpark, a walk’s reach from the restaurant where we ate together. I’ve only been here once, I think. It’s been enough time for me to forget what this place is like… but not enough time for me to forget what creatures I’ve seen here after nightfall. “Kamael?” I realise I must sound ridiculous. Either that, or my words are likely confused, with him joining in on the confusion. Ugh, no time for a filter or for any bad thoughts now. I have to keep my eyes peeled… for anything out of the ordinary. I don’t care if my knives might scare off people, I don’t care if those people might call the cops on me, I don’t care about anything other than finding out what the hell is making me feel so on edge. And I’m pretty sure the reason is going to be a good one. I never get a response from my boyfriend. Not after a few seconds, or a few minutes. We were just a few steps away from each other. Now, he has disappeared into thin air. I turn around a few times, walk in one direction, then in the opposite. The only response is complete silence. The familiar route through the park, the one all three of us walked together, leads me nowhere. It’s like space has warped and I’m nowhere near the location, at which I last left my friends.

What kind of bloody madness is this? Heh. Did you get lost, halfling? Everything that follows after I hear the voice happens with lightning speed, like I’m in a film someone has pressed the fast-forward button on. I plant my feet on the ground, still like a tree, breath held. I know I have no camouflage like animals do; I can’t blend with the ground and become invisible. There’s no avoiding this creature, whatever it is. And I think I know what it is. There are only a few beings who know I’m only half human, the other part of me immune to supernatural attacks thanks to my involvement in Celestial – thanks to what I assume is having been exposed to the serum’s effects. To keep me alive around the Corbeau siblings and their friends, their grandpa and uncle made me practically indestructible. Me and a few other people who took part that weren’t either angels or demons. Whoever’s approaching me knows too much. Too much about me to be left alive, or at least too much to be left unspoken with. “No. I’ve been here more times than you. And I can bet on that.” I put my hands on my waist. “What do you want? Name your price. I wasn’t in the mood for work. I’ve a few days off.” Days off. He-he-he. You humans are so interesting. The voice cackles. You want to get done with me fast, is that it? Days off, you say? I’m not entirely sure what ‘days off’ means. But you sound grumpy. Oh no. Our poor little princess is unhappy. What shall we ever do, it teases. I swish one of the hunting knives around in the air. The blade is as big as my forearm and, while it’s obvious it has been ‘gently’ used throughout time, it still has a sturdy feel. And I’m sure it could take down this creature, whatever it is. Humans aren’t that cocky, even the ones with the most self-confidence. There’s something about supernatural beings who have experience with people that makes them impossible to mistake. “I do want to get done with you. You’re right.” How sad. And here I was expecting we were going to play a game. Or have a little talk. Tsk tsk. The voice is strangely masculine, yet with a feminine softness in it that only reminds me of one person. Kamael. Too bad I already know just what he’s like. This fairy cannot trick me. Hold on. Did she say ‘talk’ just now? The word ‘play’ has almost made me hold the knives close, ready to attack. I slowly lower my arms. If I come to regret letting my guard down, I’ll make this creature regret coming up to me to mess with me. You chose the wrong person, buddy. “Speak.” Now you’re not very friendly. ‘And you’re not the first person who’s telling me this,’ I think to myself. ‘But here we are.’ From what I remember about you, though, I guess you have your reasons for that. I’ll let it slip… for now. But don’t forget we remember how you treat us.

At last, I catch a glimpse of the huldra with the corner of my eye, and turn around – for probably the umpteenth time. She – he – looks just like Kamael. At last, my mind settles on using they, too confused by the weird looks to decide on anything else. And oh, do they look like they’re not from this world. For the record, Kamael has something strange about him as well. It’s likely because I’ve been watching him from different distances my, and his, whole life. They can’t pull him off. Not entirely, at least. I do have to admit, however, the resemblance is uncanny. The only thing the huldra hasn’t copied is a few moles over his face, one of my favourite things about that face. With an ease I assume they’ve had forever now, the huldra twirls on their heels and turns into a perfect copy of me now. What a show-off. Had I not been busy for a few seconds, taken aback by the sight of my very own face staring right at me, I would have likely noticed they didn’t quite pull off the hair colour. My bloody brick red hair hasn’t been easy for anyone to wrap their mind around. Having someone imitate it so perfectly would have scared me a few years ago. There’s more of us out there, which I don’t doubt you already know, Hella. You know us. We know you. We’ll play with our cards open. The huldra stares into my eyes, the look of a stubborn child etched into their face. It’s not like we’ve ever been a mystery to you, anyway. You’re a smart one. It’s almost like you’re one of us. The smirk on their face makes me wonder whether they know about my past with Celestial. Is it possible? Could they know…? And would that mean they’re one of them as well? And, like you’ve already figured out, they won’t all just stop for a chat like I did. I frown. A huldra, warning me about future mischief of other huldras? Last time I checked, there were much more of these creatures back home in Sweden, and across the rest of Scandinavia as well. What’s this one doing in Germany? And, more importantly, what do they want to tell me? “I already knew that. I didn’t expect to see you here. Still,” I shrug, “yesterday’s news. I didn’t expect you to be this peaceful, either. Not that I ain’t glad that you are, though. Oh, I very much am.” I don’t put away my knives. Despite all the pretty words we have exchanged, I could get bitten in the back. Unless the huldra also has a knife. Then the bite might be a stab in the back. The huldra raises their eyebrows once. Oh? Is that so? Good for you, then. You can expect to run into one very, very soon. And that creature won’t be too unlike your dear friends… only, you’ll want to kill him. They smirk. Oh, and all of you will see a shared suspicion raised to truth. But you probably won’t like it. Just thought you should know. You’ll figure out what I mean in no time… Well, isn’t that cryptic.

When I look at the creature again, it has disappeared. In its stead, the silence which was my previous companion makes an expected return. Hmm. Very mysterious, indeed. I wonder what Kam and his brothers will think of all of this if I tell him what I just heard and saw. “Hells, where were you?” It’s Inger. “I get that I wasn’t really nice to you for a while there, but… you don’t need to ditch us entirely.” My frenemy sighs. “I’ll make it up to you, alright?”

I chuckle. “You don’t have to, Inga. Just saying this means you know what you’re doing. You ain’t some heartless bastard like Kamael’s grandfather. And speaking of, where is he?”

Inger raises her shoulders. “I lost both of you out here. Even though I’m pretty sure all three of us know the park fairly well. Go figure. We got too much sun today,” she jokes. Her face becomes serious then, and she steps closer. Inside, I shiver, but on the outside, I don’t let anything show. “You smell… not like you. You’ve seen one of them, haven’t you? The invisible folks.”

I nod. “I ran into a particularly interesting fellow while I was looking for you guys. And he said some intriguing things…” My phone vibrates. A reminder. Just a little glance at the screen is enough to make my mind run. Dammit, I’ve got stuff to do. There’s a gig tonight I’ll be playing at. I’ll have to postpone everything until it ends. “Kam should know as well. He might want to hear this, too... I gotta go now, though.”

“You got a gig, don’t you?” An amused look appears on Inger’s face, then she steps away.

“Yeah. In an hour.”

“Alright then. Have fun. And be safe.”

[silversatoru]

i made this instead of doing my stacks of homework ^

step bro!itadori yuuji x f!reader

synopsis: i don’t think i even have to say this but you get stuck in a dryer and your step-brother yuuji fucks the shit out of you

t/w: 18+!!!, aged-up yuuji, stepcest, noncon/dubcon, manipulation, filming without consent, mild impact play, creampie, mild overstimulation, mild dumbification (but also reader is just dumb), mention of masturbation

w/c: 2.3k

a/n: hey!!! i joined this super fun collab hosted by my new gf @suna-reversed​ (thank u for letting me be a part of it!!) so if you enjoy this i highly recommend checking out the rest of the talented writers in this collab :) the jujutsuhub masterlist is here !! also,, biggest thank u my lovely friend @brandmeyelena for helping me to plan and perfect this fic throughout the entire process <333

you were a good daughter, certainty not the sharpest or the most intelligent, but you were helpful and compliant and you always did your chores. and you truly didn’t mind helping out around the house either; sweeping the floors and doing the dishes was easy enough, but there was one task that plagued you a bit more than the rest — doing the laundry. the buttons were just so confusing, and there were so many of them! and on top of that, your short stature made it nearly impossible to empty the fresh clothing out of your top-loaded dryer. 

you were struggling with that exact issue right now, pushing onto your tip-toes as you tried to reach that last pesky sock stuck at the bottom of the dryer. your finger tips brushed over the warm fabric, just an inch short of being able to snatch it into your hand.

you wiggled your hips a little further, your feet lifting off the floor and your weight shifting so you fell deeper into the dryer. you were finally able to grasp the sock, but you were unable to push yourself back out, feet swinging wildly as you tried to squirm your way out of the machine.

“hey, what are you doing?”

your face flushed at the sound of your step-brother’s voice coming from behind you, your senses becoming suddenly aware of how far your dress was riding up your thighs. a pitiful whimper of embarrassment slid past your lips as you realized you couldn’t even pull your dress down — you needed both hands to hold you up and prevent you from falling into the dryer. 

“ah! yuuji! ...i got stuck,” you pouted shamefully, thankful that you couldn’t see his face right now.

“again? isn’t this like... the third time?” he asked it like a genuine question, but you still felt stupid for getting stuck in the same predicament multiple times.

“mhm, can you help? please?” you whined at him, still wiggling your hips in a poor attempt to free yourself.

this only made your dress slide higher, the underside of your ass cheeks becoming prominently visible against the edge of the fabric. yuuji couldn’t help himself, gabbing his phone and snapping a few secret pictures of your exposed back-side. he planned to save those for later, maybe jack off to them if he was bored, but then a different idea flooded his head — you were no position to stop him from doing whatever he wanted right now.

he propped his phone up on top of one of the various laundry baskets, starting a video recording without your knowledge. then he waltzed back over, sliding a single finger under the fabric of your dress and tracing his finger around your round ass cheek. the sensation of touch made you flinch, your mouth gaping open as you fumbled over your next word.

“y-yuuji?” you stammered, trying to move away which only caused your ass to jiggle and shake more than it already was.

“shh, i’m helping,” he murmured, stroking his finger all the way down to your thigh.

he moved his other hand over your pretty cunt, the fabric of your panties hugging perfectly against your folds. he brushed two of his fingers up your clothed slit, causing you to yelp and continue to wriggle around.

“step-brother? what are you doing?” you continued to question him, your voice light and laced with confusion.

“i’ll help you get unstuck, but you have to repay me somehow, little sister,” he clicked his tongue at you, an evil grin that you couldn’t see stretching his lips.

he continued to poke and prod at your soft, clothed pussy, his mouth salivating as he imagined the things he could do to you in this position. every brush of his fingers coaxed gasps and whimpers from your lips, your worries and protests falling on deaf ears.

“y-you’re my brother, yuuji! w-we can’t do this!” you continued to argue, but his gentle fingers were starting to feel really good — small streams of fluid flowing out of your cunt and seeping into your panties.

“it seems like you want me to,” he observed, poking his finger at the small wet spot that was forming now, “and mom and dad won’t be home until later. no one will find out”.

you felt his strong hands weave their way underneath the straps of your undergarments, swiftly pulling them down your thighs and letting them dangle from your ankles. you sucked in a sharp breath at the feeling of your wet cunt being exposed to the cool air, shifting your hips and filling yuuji’s head with more sinful ideas.

you couldn’t see anything (with your head still being stuck in the dryer) but you heard your brother’s own pants fall to the floor, a loud clank of his belt buckle against the tiles confirming your suspicions. everything about this felt so wrong, but at the same time, you’d always been shamefully attracted to yuuji — eyes lingering on his chiseled chest for a little too long when he walked around the house shirtless.

your head was swirling with thoughts like: would it really be that wrong if the two of you indulged in each other while no one was around? it’s not like you were actually blood related or anything.

on the other hand, yuuji had a one-track mind, and he wasn’t having any of the doubts that you were — he had a tendency to listen to his dick instead of his brain. and right now your round, plump ass was staring him in the face and begging to get fucked. how could he not take advantage of this opportunity?

he lifted his hand and gave a firm slap to your right ass check, earning a gasped yelp from you which made his dick twitch and strain. he mumbled under his breath, something along the lines of ‘i’ve always wanted to do that’ but it was kind of hard to hear from the depths of the dryer.

he’d used a reasonable amount of force, a puffy handprint forming on the surface on your skin. he decided that the other cheek should match, delivering another firm strike to the other side and watching you squirm and whimper at the impact.

he grabbed his phone and pulled it over for a few close ups, showing off the swollen skin to the camera. he then placed a finger at the front of your entrance, the puffy, slick walls sucking it in as he delivered a few warm-up strokes with his hand. the camera picked up on all the grotesque squelching noises made by his finger in your cunt, as well as the embarrassed yelps and moans leaving your lips.

now that you had two matching, swollen hand prints, and your pussy had been properly prepped, he decided he was ready for the main course. yuuji returned his phone to its spot on the laundry basket before grabbing a low stool from the corner of the room and setting it in front of the dryer so he could stand on it for easier access. his cock was red and veiny, begging for entrance into your tight cunt as he wrapped one hand around it to position himself.

you’d always imagined your step-brother’s dick to be lengthy, and your assumptions were proven correct when your felt a tight pressure in your core. his girthy size pushed and stretched at your walls, pained mewls leaking from between your teeth as you clawed at the bottom of the dryer.

yuuji let out a groan that was almost animalistic, throwing his head back and placing a firm grip on either side of your hips. the way your pitiful form was positioned on the dryer gave him excellent access, the curve of his dick allowing him to stretch you deep, reaching all the way to the spongy patch of tissue that made you feel so good.

a jumble of grotesque noises filled the room, a chorus your sloppy moans, yuuji’s pleasured grunts, and the steady slap of his hips on your ass. he’d imagined what this would be like more times than he could count — fucking himself into his fleshlight and mumbling your name while he did so. but no matter how many times he’d dreamed of this moment, he never expected your walls to be so tight — so perfectly snug around his cock.

“yuuji!” you repeated his name a few times, head so dazed from the overwhelming bliss that you’d forgotten all about the initial guilt you’d felt.

“see, i knew you’d like this, little sister. your big brother would never steer you wrong, would he?” he knew his words were manipulative, but god, you were much too dumb to understand or grasp the concept of manipulation — you’d just agree with him like you always do.

“no! he would never!” you whined, letting your head dip lower into the dryer so he could fuck you at an even better angle.

your messy cunt squelched and squeezed a small stream of juices down your thigh as he picked up a deeper, faster pace, your moans becoming higher and more unsteady in response. he could feel your sloppy walls fluttering and constricting against him, his fingertips digging deeper into your hips as he let out a few breathy moans.

the tip of his cock slammed into your pleasure spot with every stroke, voiding your brain of any cohesive thoughts you might have had hiding in there. you moaned and whimpered over and over, whining yuuji’s name like a mantra as drool spilled from your lips.

yuuji could almost imagine your perfectly fucked-out face — your eyes rolling into your head and your mouth hanging open lazily. he grunted at the thought, deciding that the next time he fucked you it was gonna be somewhere that he could watch your face and really enjoy the show — because there was definitely going to be a next time.

there was a tight coil forming in your stomach, building up more and more the longer that your step-brother railed himself into you from behind. you hardly even noticed how sore your hips were getting or how numb and tingly your legs were from being bent over the dryer, yuuji’s dick filling you up so well that those things became an afterthought.

after a few more pounds to your oozing cunt that hit deep enough to graze your cervix, you felt a heightened wave of pleasure begin to crash over your body. surges of the most blissful sensation you’d ever felt racked through your systems, your whines becoming borderline screams as yuuji fucked you through your orgasm.

the way your warm, messy walls fluctuated and gripped around his cock pushed him close to his own climax, but he wasn’t quite ready to be done with you yet. he continued to provide heavy, forceful thrusts, abusing your now sensitive cunt and moaning loudly as your juices squelched out around the edges of your entrance. the disgusting sounds of your fluids squeezing out around his cock nearly sent him over the edge again, but he was determined to ride this out for as long as he could.

“it’s too much!” you wailed between heavy breaths, every stroke sending jolts of overstimulation through your clit.

you wiggled and whined, legs clenching together in defense and causing your pussy to wrap even tighter around yuuji’s dick. the added pressure and increased pleasure was something he could no longer surpass, succumbing to his own orgasm just moments later.

“fuck, feels- too- fucking- good- shit,” he grunted a long string of mostly profanity, emptying his hot release into your caverns as you continued to cry out and whimper underneath him.

yuuji had fucked you even stupider than you already were, your head way too dazed for you to even realize he was filling your insides with warm, sticky semen. he milked his orgasm all the way through and then some, his cock aching and twitching by the time he finally pulled it out of your white-stuffed cunt.

he wrapped his toned arms around your waist, finally pulling you out of the dryer and attempting to stand you up. but between the lack of blood flow to your legs from being stuck, and the good fuck yuuji had just given you, your lower extremities were in no shape to hold you up. you sunk right to the floor, your messy pussy spilling everywhere and leaving puddles of fluid and semen.

“thanks for helping me get un-stuck, big brother,” you looked up at him with admiration, blissfully unaware of how he was using your utter stupidity to his advantage.

“of course, you want me to carry you to bed?” he gave you a sympathetic look, squatting down with his back to you.

you hummed happily, wrapping your arms around his neck and climbing onto his muscular back. he carried you down the hall and into your room, laying you down and handing you an old towel for you to clean yourself up with. you were a pitiful site, hazy eyes and an ignorant smile resting on your face as yuuji admired your damaged little cunt for a few more moments before returning to the laundry room.

he grabbed his phone and ended the video, thankful that you were much to oblivious to notice that it was recording the entire time. he was definitely going to hold onto the recording for safe keeping and later use — and shit, maybe he’d even upload it to pornhub and make a quick buck too.

[goodfish-bowl]

Ectober Day 17: Found Footage

AO3 link

Summary: Maddie finds a camera with some interesting videos recorded onto it.

Words: 1845

Content Warning: just typical Fenton anti-ghost bias

Maddie clicked play on the first file up on the screen, this one labeled ‘Test 8’. The video on the screen was slightly grainy, but the quality was amazing for something recorded on a handheld device. The video was clear enough that the background was identifiable, an area of the park that was well-wooded and generally very private. Maddie recognized it personally as an area where small ghosts liked to lurk, but often seemed like a massive fight had gone down there without there ever having been a ghost fight recorded in the location.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” A voice off screen asked, the audio staticky and distant, barely understandable.

“If this didn’t work, that just means I haven’t figured it out yet. Come on! Get in the camera frame!” The person recording asked. Their audio was clear and crisp, whether it was due to distance or the person speaking was unclear. Both voices were vaguely recognizable, the second more so than the first.

“This is the seventh attempt. I’m not sure if it’s even possible,” the first voice complained.

“Just do it!”

The first voice groaned and then a figure stepped into the camera frame, extremely out of focus. Even so out of focus, the figure was recognizable. No one else wore that outfit or had hair that white. Phantom came into frame, and the camera struggled to focus on him. Maddie realized what the unknown person was attempting to do.

Ghosts were notoriously hard to film, often appearing extremely blurred or translucent in photos, and appearing as a blur of pixels and static on video. Audio recordings were easier, especially with something like the ghost gabber, but were still often difficult to make out. Already, the camera frame of Phantom was much better than anything she herself had recorded, probably also due to the fact that Phantom was standing relatively still in the frame.

The other voice, muttered incoherently, clicking several things that popped up on the camera screen, systems added to the camera, and a small bedsheet ghost icon appeared in the corner. The camera snapped into focus. Phantom’s eerie-bright eyes appeared in full detail on the screen. The unknown person let a whoop of joy.

“I’ve got it!” They exclaimed.

“Seriously?” Phantom asked, now equally excited.

Maddie wondered how he was capable of emoting so well, or if he was just emulating the person recording. Phantom’s audio was still poor however, but the feat itself was incredible.

“You’re crystal clear! I just need to do audio next,” the voice proclaimed.

“Dude, show me!” Phantom exclaimed, and the video cut off.

Maddie hummed, and clicked the next video, this one labeled with a date and a time that matched the time stamp. Phantom appeared immediately on the screen this time, quickly coming into focus automatically. He seemed to be holding the camera himself, though the background was indistinguishable. Maddie vaguely wondered how that worked, since ghosts also had a tendency to cause electronics to bug out, especially in close proximity, though she had seen Phantom equipped with tech before, and the technology ghosts, Technus, was a notable outlier.

“Well… uh… hi?” Phantom began, his audio much clearer this time, but still having the echoing quality all ghosts did, “TF said I should try to start a video diary… and Spaz did too. So, uh… I’m Phantom and I hope no one ever watches these. I’m a ghost… and uh… I’m just trying to do what I think is right, despite how cheesy that sounds,” he said with a wavering tone.

Maddie noted how he emphasized what she assumed were code names. Phantom had quite the amount of foresight to hide their names, for a ghost at least. She wondered why he was continuing his front of being a “hero” if he never intended for this to go public. Obviously, she didn’t believe that for a second.

“So, today Skulker decided it would be a good idea to try to catch me using some Nasty Burger as bait. No idea he thought that would work. Honestly, it was kind of insulting. Sure, I like bacon-ranch milkshakes, but he left it inside of a crate, I’m obviously not going to fall for that,” Phantom huffed.

“Says the one who fell for it!” A feminine voice shouted off screen, somewhere in the distance, this one also familiar to Maddie, but not one she could identify off the top of her head.

Phantom turned to the apparent direction of the voice and stuck out his blue-green tongue at them. The video ended with that as the final frame.

Maddie looked down to her notes and added a few more. Phantom’s tongue color, his ability to eat human food, and his juvenile attitude, and his insistence on the pretense of helping people despite the (relative) privacy of his “video journal”, the first two and last points interesting her the most.

Maddie cross referenced the time stamp with ghost activity and sightings for that day, and confirmed the presence of the ghost named “Skulker” on that day. She played the next video. It played out a lot like the first, with Phantom talking about his daily ghost fights, encounters with the infamous Red Huntress, and even her and her husband. For some reason, if she was to read his facial expressions as genuine and not a facade, he always looked solem and guilty when he mentioned the young ghost huntress. Maddie was curious about their relationship, since she had caught a few of the tail ends of their fights, which seemed much more personal than they ought to be.

Phantom’s expressions towards Maddie and Jack confused her much more. He seemed to be in pain whenever he mentioned “Drs. Fenton”, but also fond. His knowledge about their technology and personal lives was frightening. The sheer depth of his knowledge on their personal lives unnerved her. Maddie wondered if she should up the security again since it clearly wasn’t functioning like it should if Phantom knew so much about the weapons they designed to hunt him. But that might backfire and hurt her own son, Danny, who had an odd tendency to set off the systems since his accident with the portal.

Maddie’s notes kept growing, logging Phantom’s odd reactions, interesting phrases, and the code names of each of his allies, the names or code names he used for his enemies (Maddie seriously doubted “Fruitloop” was the ghosts actual name, sometimes she doubted he was talking about a ghost at all, it was hard to tell. But with ghosts like the “Box Ghost” she could never be quite sure). The videos were pretty standard, and upon occasion one of the ghost boy’s many enemies would attack while the camera was rolling. One time, it was snatched by the pair of biker ghosts, another it was hyjacked by the technology ghost, Technus, and was nabbed by the box ghost a small handful of times. Sometimes the camera would remain rolling for the entire duration, with a poor view of the ghost fight or the ghost that had captured the camera going on their own brief rant before Phantom managed to retrieve his device and turn the video off. She got to witness an entire spiel from the box ghost about how cardboard was the best and how the other ghosts refused to acknowledge it. (Phantom had saved it as its own video, surprisingly enough).

However, every single time Phantom would slip up on names, she jotted it down. Usually she got no more than the first syllable before he quickly corrected himself. She even had notes on how often he mentioned hanging around with them, expressing his opinions on his friends and enemies alike, or even doing something she’d expect of Danny, not a post-mortem abomination, like watching movies, hanging out with friends, and going to the park or arcade. But she had to be careful with herself. The more of them she watched, the more impossibly human the ghost boy seemed to be.

Perhaps that was the true purpose of the videos. A logical ruse, depicting something manufactured to be conceived as private in order to turn public opinion in his favor as depicting him as more human. It didn’t work as well as Maddie thought Phantom might believe. She could still see how inhuman he was, now in the clearest recording of a ghost she had even gotten her hands on. His pupil-less, acid eyes, the strange glow he emitted, lack of breath, the glowing green freckles on his face, pearl fangs he hid away, the way his hair wisped like dry ice at the ends, and the blue-green color where red-pink would be on a human.

Maddie must’ve been sitting there for hours on end when she reached the last video. It started like most of the others, some time late at night, the dim night sky visible in the background. Phantom was complaining about being nagged by “Spaz” to spill a secret to someone before it came and “snapped at his spectral tail”. What his secret could possibly be, Maddie had no clue.

The end was sudden, ending with a bright blast of energy connecting directly with Phantom resulting in a pained yelp before he was blasted out of range. The camera free fell to the ground from however high Phantom had been floating. The lens cracked, and video cut out for a second before it continued with it’s recording, now lacking audio. Maddie set her pencil down, giving it her full, undivided attention.

In the distance, Maddie saw Phantom crash into the concrete, leaving one of his trademark craters. She could almost hear the screech of tires in the silence of the lab as a white van slammed to a stop, figures dressed in the same near-fluorescent color poured from the vans and restrained Phantom, trapping him in an electrified net which caused what appeared to be a shriek of agony from the ghost. He was picked up like trash, injected with something that made him limp and crumple in on himself. Some form of ecto-tranquilizer. Maddie had developed and patented a few of those herself.

Just as the van doors were getting closed, there was a bright flash of white inside, causing his captures to jump back. They talked amongst themselves for a second, before climbing into the van themselves. Something fell out of the van as if flung. The van drove off, and the camera continued to run until it ran out of battery. It had remained until she had picked it up from the street on an patrol earlier that morning.

Maddie knew without a doubt what that object was, but she couldn’t wrap her mind around it, or how it had ended up there of all places. She looked down to the ground at the object that had drawn her to the screen in the first place. A single red sneaker that looked like it had been through the Zone and back. A shoe that definitely belonged to her Danny. The same Danny who hadn’t been seen since the day prior, wasn’t answering his phone, and hadn’t been in bed this morning.

Maddie started the videos from the beginning again, dots that never should’ve even been on the same spectrum slowly coming together far too neatly.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

My dearest bouncey! I have a prompt for you if you like: Witchers as a 90s/2000s boyband 😂🤷‍♀️💖💖💖

Ellie, darling, this started as 500 words and turned into like 3.2k words and also a piece of art so... thank you so much. also shout out to my amazing art pal @mawbwehownets for the little comic!!

this contains lots of 90′s/early 2000′s nostalgia so there is also that

tw: hornyish, smooching, perilous music video situations (corny)

---

“Do I have to?” Geralt groans, letting his forehead thud down against the linoleum surface of their tour bus’s shitty dining table.

“Yes,” Vesemir says. His tone leaves no room for argument or whining. “But what if I let you pick the winner personally?”

“There have to be like fifteen thousand letters to go through! How will I manage that in less than two days?”

“There were a few more than fifteen thousand applications, Geralt. There were probably closer to five hundred thousand.”

Lambert wolf whistles and Aiden claps.

Geralt grimaces and keeps his face hidden against the table, releasing a slightly muffled: “Fuck.”

“Language,” Vesemir frowns. He tugs gently at Geralt’s loose ponytail and the singer lifts his head up from the table again, looking at his manager with beseeching eyes. “Anyway, we’ve narrowed it down to about fifty. You can go through those and choose whichever person you’d like to play your love interest. But you have to give me an answer by Friday. The shoot is in three weeks and whoever wins this stupid competition will need time to make arrangements.”

“I thought we were footing the bill for their food and their hotel room,” Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What would they need to arrange?”

“Not everyone can board their pets at the flick of a wrist, dude,” Lambert scoffs from his seat on the couch. Aiden lies draped across his lap, as usual, and the two of them are halfheartedly watching The Lion King. They can only watch movies when the bus is stationary, otherwise the VHS player might move too much while running and damage the film inside the cassette. Even taking advantage of such a rare opportunity, Lambert and Aiden still seem more interested in each other than Jonathan Taylor Thomas’s voice acting. 

“Lambert has a point,” Vesemir sighs. He scrubs his hand over his lightly whiskered face like a tired grandparent and sighs again, more heavily. “It’ll be good for you boys to have a normal person around for a few days. Maybe they’ll be able to put some things into perspective.”

Geralt can only roll his eyes a little bit and thank his manager regardless of his own feelings; he and the rest of TW5 owe the seasoned musical expert their entire careers. Without Vesemir’s help and mentorship they would never have made it past their first disastrous record deal. They certainly wouldn’t have reached the heights they’re at now, enjoying international fame and recognition. 

The begrudging frontman accepts a heavy plastic bin of file folders from Vesemir and sets them down next to his bunk. “Are these organized in any particular way?”

“Nope.”

“Cool.”

Geralt digs his hand into the pile and pulls out a piece of pale-pink stationary, eager to get started and, by extension, get finished. He can already tell that it’s going to be a long couple of days.

---

“I want this one, please, Ves.”

“Huh?” Vesemir looks up from his palm-pilot. Geralt is standing in front of him and trying to hand him something. 

“I want this guy to be in the music video with me.” Geralt holds out the letter again, fingers trapping the accompanying polaroid headshot with great care. A pair of bright blue eyes stares up from the photo, highlighting the subject’s bright smile and unruly mop of messy brown hair. Vesemir tries to hide his amusement; totally Geralt’s type, if the big oaf could admit to having one.

“Alright. I’ll get everything in order. We start shooting in two and a half weeks so get your asses to the gym, please.”

“Yes, Ves,” all five young men chorus. 

“Tomorrow,” Coen mutters a moment later than everyone else, not glancing up from his composition notebook. Vesemir nods in understanding. Coen is the best lyricist of the lot and it’s easier to let him work when inspiration strikes than beg him to focus when he can’t get a solitary idea to stick.

“So why’d you pick that one, Ger-bear?” Lambert drawls. Aiden nods and leans against Lambert’s side. Geralt can’t help the mild jealousy that overtakes him every time he sees his bandmates touch each other with such casual affection. He wants that intimacy, that softness behind the veneer of famous indifference. He wants someone to hold. 

“Yeah. What drew your attention to that poor unfortunate soul. Was it the floppy hair, the big blue eyes, or the dopey grin?” Aiden smirks.

“Hmm.”

“Fuck you,” Eskel sighs, looking between the two troublemakers with the tired gaze of an eldest sibling, “Fuck you for even asking in the first place and expecting a straight answer.”

“Straight is the furthest thing from his answer,” Lambert chuckles. He is promptly smacked in the head with one of the couch’s hideous throw pillows. The youngest member of the band rubs the side of his face and chuckles, “Alright, I deserved that one.”

---

“Holy shit!” Jaskier practically screams. “Holy motherfucking shit!”

“What!?” Yennefer comes flying around the corner. “What’s wrong!?”

“Nothing is wrong, Yenna! Everything is awesome! Everything absolutely fucking rocks!”

“Did you get hit on the head by a falling branch between here and the mailbox or what? You were whining about your finals work not five min-”

“Look at this!” Jaskier shoves an open envelope into her hands and cuts her off. Yennefer reads the watermarked documents once. Twice. Her eyes almost pop out of her head when the words and their meanings finally sink in. 

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No, I am absolutely not!” her giddy roommate cheers, bouncing up and down in place. “I did it! I won!”

“Holy shit.”

“I know! I get to kiss Geralt deRiv!” he practically cackles. Then freezes. “Holy fuck I get to kiss Geralt deRiv.”

“You said that already,” Yen teases. She shoves the paperwork back into his hands and grabs a takeout menu from the junk drawer near her hip. “Since you won the makeout lottery, you get to buy lunch. Lucky bastard.”

---

“So this will be your dressing room,” someone’s underpaid PA says, ushering Jaskier into a small, bright room. “Priscilla will be here shortly to get you into hair and makeup.”

“Oh, uh- thanks!”

“Yup.”

And with that, the young man disappears back down the hallway toward the sound stage. Jaskier jogs his leg anxiously as he waits for Priscilla to arrive, nervous and otherwise totally alone in the huge grey building. As the minutes tick by and his heart rate rises, Jaskier’s intrusive thoughts make an unwanted appearance: What if they forget about me being here? What if there’s been a mistake and they accidentally hired two love interests and I just sit in here for hours all alone while-

“Hi!” a bright, peppy blonde woman flies through the door and startles him back to reality. “Nice to meet you, I’m Priscilla! You can call me Priss; I’ll be doing your hair and makeup for the video this week!”

“Oh… hi. I’m Julian, but I prefer Jaskier.”

“Lovely! Well, Jaskier, is your hair naturally this color?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Perfect! I don’t want to mess with such a lovely shade of natural brown, but do you mind if I give it a bit of a trim? I have a few ideas for styles right here in my book- How do you feel about some feathering back here? I think-” she fluffs a few of the hairs around the nape of Jaskier’s neck “-I could really bring out the curls if I adjusted the length a bit and used some product.”

“Just, uhm, go for it, then! Feel free to make me as pretty as possible!” Jaskier declares. He’s committing to this experience wholeheartedly, determined to allow himself every opportunity for positive change. He wants to really let himself enjoy it, and he needs a haircut anyway. Priscilla spends an hour washing, cutting, drying, and styling his hair into a lovely fringed sweep across his forehead. It ends just above his brows, giving his face a slightly softer shape than usual. He grins over his shoulder, “I love it! I’m going to miss you when I’m back at Oxenfurt. Good stylists are so hard to find.”

Priss blushes and nudges against his shoulder, “Oh, you little charmer.”

“I mean it,” he says, examining himself in the mirror. “I look like I could really be worthy of a heroic rescue! This is going to be such a fantastic memory, and I appreciate it. Thank you so much.”

Priss bites back a genuine tear and smiles, “Now that your natural prettiness has been mildly enhanced, let’s get you over to wardrobe, shall we?”

“Wardrobe? Do I have, like, a costume? What’s the music video even about?”

“They didn’t tell you any of this when you got here?”

“Not… not really.”

“Well, my darling, I think you’re really going to like it; they’ve got you in Versace for the first scene.”

“Versace!?” 

Then Jaskier is being ushered into a bright, colorful room full to bursting with grim-faced, middle-aged women and he loses track of his only braincell for the rest of the morning.

---

“You must be Julian!” Lambert declares, bounding up to him and grinning. It’s a feral, animalistic grin and Jaskier resists the sudden urge to take a step back.

“I prefer Jaskier, if you don’t mind too much,” Jaskier corrects him quietly. Lambert rolls his eyes in a long-suffering kind of way and throws a meaty arm around the shorter man’s shoulders, completely ignoring the wardrobe technician’s wincing as he wrinkles the expensive silk jacket. 

“No need to be quiet and polite around here, my dude. We’re just a bunch of rowdy idiots, aren’t we, guys?” 

“Hell yeah!” Aiden calls back. Eskel sighs like the put-upon nanny in a Victorian Redanian comedy. 

“Speak for yourself,” Coen barely lifts his frosted tips up from his book long enough to speak. Geralt is-

Holy motherfucking Britney Spears on toast.

Geralt is the hottest thing Jaskier has ever seen in his short, unfulfilled-until-right-now life. Forget Ralph Macchio. Forget Leonardo Dicaprio and Kate Winslet and Winona Ryder. This man is… Geralt deRiv is… he’s the picture of perfection. And he’s right there, standing in front of an elaborate party set with his thick, beautiful arms crossed over his chest and his eyes trained on the floor, as if willing it to swallow him whole. Jaskier realizes that he probably didn’t have any choice in the matter; maybe this was just as awkward and uncomfortable for Geralt as it was for Jaskier. 

“Ger-bear!” Lambert whoops, yanking Jaskier closer to the brooding frontman. If only he were brave enough to struggle for escape; alas. “This is your boy-toy for the week. Goes by Jaskier, apparently.”

“Nice to meet you,” Geralt manages to grunt. “How did you like the script?”

“I haven’t uh- I haven’t actually seen it?”

“Shit. Fuck. One second,” Geralt huffs, disappearing into the crowd of technicians and machinery operators and PAs. Jaskier loves him already, for real. Sure, he was pretty in the music videos and promo material, but the way he said fuck like it was the noblest word he could think of… Geralt interrupts his train of thought by coming back with a sheaf of papers clutched in his hand. He shuffle-shoves them into Jaskier’s arms immediately. “There you go.”

“Thank you!” Jaskier smiles. It’s genuine and shy, more tenuous than his usual goofy grin. He flips through the pages, glancing between the script to his expensive suit, “So I’m guessing we’re at a party for this scene? Or something?”

“This is… where we meet. This is where… you and I uh…”

Jaskier’s eyes scan the page as Geralt’s ability to speak slowly leaves him. 

Lover ENTERS LEFT, dressed to the nines. Lover adjusts their tie/boa and takes a look around the room. S/He looks sad and a little hopeful. PULL BACK to Geralt, who approaches slowly. Their eyes meet. HOLD SHOT. PULL BACK as they move towards each other. Geralt pulls Lover into his arms and they begin to dance.

“Oh, wow.”

“I hope it’s okay! If you’re not comfortable with that kind of thing we can-”

“I’ll be alright, thank you. I came here to put my acting chops to the test. Well, that and meet my favorite band, of course. Thank you again, by the way. It’s been wonderful so far and I really appreciate you allowing me to be here.”

“Allowing? Psh. Geralt ha-” Lambert is cut off by Aiden, who elbows him sharply in the side. “Ow! What the fuck, babe?”

“I knew it!” Jaskier crows, distracted. “I knew you two were an item!”

“They’re not exactly subtle.”

“They never confirm anything either,” Jaskier retorts. Geralt shrugs his acknowledgement and moves back towards the set. Jaskier follows after the taller man like a lost puppy, eyes flicking from one thing to the next, hungry for detail even in his anxiety ridden state. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and he doesn’t want to waste a solitary second of it. “This is incredible, really just...wow. You guys do this all the time? You get to make tiny little movies for already great songs that you get to perform for millions of adoring fans? And you get paid!?”

Geralt hadn’t ever really thought about it like that. He’d been raised in the industry. He’d signed to Kaer Morhen Records as an early teen because his mother was a member of the Board of Directors and he’d been making music ever since; an outsider’s perspective to things was… new. A little strange. “Yeah, I guess that is pretty much what we do.”

“Wow.”

“It’s not that exciting, I promise.”

“Have you ever written a fifteen page paper about the history of lute-string design and manufacturing?” 

“No.”

“Then kindly shut the fuck up about what I should consider exciting,” Jaskier grins. Geralt is immediately and irrevocably smitten. Fuck. It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes! “So, which door am I entering from?”

“Left,” Geralt points. Jaskier skips over and begins to introduce himself to the sound and lights crew. His smile seems to be as infectious as his cheer and soon the entire set crew is smiling at one another. There’s been a literal shift in the atmosphere; if he didn’t know any better, the TW5 frontman thinks Jaskier might be some kind of magical creature, because he can’t just be human. Geralt is well and truly fucked, and everyone in the band already knows.

---

“What do you think?” Jaskier asks, slipping anxiously from behind the changing screen. The Versace is gone and in its place are a pair of tight, high-waisted blue pleather pants and a billowing white shirt, which has been strategically ripped in several places to reveal slivers of the lightly tanned skin that lies beneath. He looks like he’s in desperate need of rescuing. He looks like every fantasy Geralt has ever had about the perfect guy. He looks like a fucking dream.

“Nice,” he says.

Lambert and Aiden wolf-whistle and cheer as they approach. Aiden claps twice, loudly, and shoots Jaskier a set of finger guns, “Hot damn, baby. You single? You lookin’ to mingle? Because I am bi and spoon like a Pringle.”

“First of all, babe, I love you but that was the most horrific combination of words yet known to man. Second of all, yeah, I’d dump Aiden for you for sure,” Lambert adds. Jaskier is at a total loss for words. His mouth hangs open and his breath comes in uneven little gasps for a moment.

“Uh… I- Thank you?”

“Oh god, Eskel! Eskel, he’s short circuiting, do something.”

“You absolute-” Eskel groans and makes his way over to the gathered group. He tugs Jaskier away and over to the other end of the set, where a comically huge rocket/bomb (Jaskier can’t tell) is standing at the center of a vaguely science-themed room. A laboratory, maybe? Or like, a really weird spacecraft? A hospital run by rocket scientists? It doesn’t matter, it’s the Evil Lair of the Villain and that’s where Jaskier is being held captive. “Here, Cameron and Elise will help you get set up for the next scene. I’m sorry about the boys they’re... gay?”

“I understand,” Jaskier nods sagely and Eskel relaxes. Then for comedy’s sake he adds an equally dramatic, “I too am... gay.”

The set dresser, an electrician, and a few specialists (likely a rope rigger among them) come over and tie Jaskier to the bomb/rocket/villainous mechanism, ending his conversation with Eskel, who is now in a much better mood than he was before. 

Jaskier is told to make sure his hands are crossed behind the small of his back and the director instructs him to wiggle back and forth “as convincingly as possible without actually getting loose or moving the ropes too much”. Which is manageable, he supposes. 

“Then, when the chorus comes up, we’ll get a few shots of the boys dancing in front of you,” the director continues to explain. That’s… kind weird, but okay. I’ve seen weirder. “Then we’ll do the action shots, with Geralt rescuing you. Are you okay to do the kiss, or would you rather not? We have dynamic shots with or without, so it’s totally up to you.”

“I’m fine with that,” Jaskier smiles shyly. “I consent to be smooched.”

“Adorable,” Lambert calls. Jaskier blushes and the director shoots Lambert a glare. 

“He’s already pink enough, don’t make me change my gels you little shithead!”

“Sorry, Pierre!”

“Fucking sorry my ass,” Pierre grumbles beneath his breath. Then he smiles at Jaskier. “Do something nasty to him for me, will you? Not too nasty but… just a little?”

“I’ve got your back,” Jaskier winks. 

“No plotting! Not fair!” Aiden whines.

“You have a team,” Pierre retorts. “Now I have a team.”

“Rules are rules,” Eskel sighs. “Now can we please shoot this damn video?”

“Right,” Pierre claps, getting everyone’s attention. “Places!”

---

Geralt races up the stairs, trying to keep the long sleeves of his black mesh shirt from catching on any of the set pieces. The solid black t-shirt he’s wearing underneath makes his arms and back look bulkier than normal; it’s a visual technique to make him look larger than Jaskier, whose billowing white shirt will hide how wide his shoulders actually are. Fuck, those are some nice shoulders. And the smattering of dark chest hair that peeks from the front of the college student’s shirt? Geralt wants to bury his face in it.

Okay, focus. 

He reaches the top of the set and rushes towards Jaskier, ripping the ropes from around his torso and pulling him close. He cups the back of Jaskier’s head with his upstage hand, framing the slightly smaller man for the camera and making him seem even shorter, another trick of angles and body posturing. Geralt plays Jaskier like an instrument, bending him back by placing his downstage arm around Jaskier’s waist, pressing their mouths together and holding them still for as long as it takes the director to yell, “Cut!” with a satisfied tone of voice. 

Geralt’s suspicions are confirmed when Pierre laughs and claps some more and cries, “Print it, lads! That was a one-take wonder!”

He tries to ignore the way Jaskier’s shoulders slump as if disappointed. “Good job,” he manages to say.

“You, too.” Geralt wishes he could keep a picture of Jaskier smiling in his back pocket forever. No other sight could light up the world so effortlessly. “Thanks for being gentle.”

“I’m trying to sweep you off your feet,” the singer shrugs. Jaskier wiggles his eyebrows and follows Geralt down the narrow set stairs.

“Are you, really?”

“Is it working?” Geralt asks, turning to look up at Jaskier. The student pauses to look at him and his foot catches on an uneven board. He topples forward with a short cry of surprise and seems surprised when Geralt reaches out to catch him. “Jaskier!”

“Oh my god!” Lambert races over, Aiden hot on his heels. “Are you okay, dude?”

“I’m fine,”  Jaskier laughs, a little breathless. “Just a little shocked.”

“You should take him to get a snack or something,” Eskel says, nudging his shoulder against Geralt’s. “He’s been busy all day and hasn’t even been to craft services.”

“You haven’t eaten?” Geralt asks, honestly baffled. Jaskier shakes his head, face heating once again. He wishes he could stop blushing, but Geralt’s presence seems to make it impossible. He wraps one arm around the younger man’s temptingly slender waist and leads him towards the food carts. He shoves a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of punch into Jaskier’s hands, not giving him a chance to argue. “Here, I’ll have something, too.”

“Thanks,” Jaskier smiles, understanding that he is, in turn, being understood. They sit comfortable folding chairs off to the side, food spread across their laps. Jaskier laughs and chats around his mouthfuls, pulling things from Geralt like his favorite color and his least favorite nicknames. Songs he liked and dances he disliked. 

“You made it fun again, today,” the singer smiles. “Thank you for that. I wish you could be here for every video shoot.”

“Looking for another member of the band?” Jaskier jokes, doing some half-hearted jazz hands. Geralt shakes his head and laughs. 

“I wish we were,” he sighs. “But I guess five is the magic number.”

“Makes the dances look cooler,” Jaskier nods. “I agree with whoever made that decision. I wouldn’t dare ruin the aesthetic.”

Geralt laughs again and Vesemir turns to look, honestly shocked at the volume of the sound. 

“Plus, you can’t be the frontman if there’s no front.”

“Shut up,” Geralt chuckles, still grinning broadly. 

Vesemir makes a phone call.

---

2 Weeks Later, Backstage in Kaedwen

---

“He’s been sulking like this ever since Jaskier went back to Oxenfurt,” Lambert whines. “C’mon Vesemir, do something.”

“What do you want me to do, make Geralt’s boyfriend appear out of thin air?”

“Not my boyfriend,” Geralt growls, stomping past his bandmates and manager. He can’t help but feel grumpy. Jaskier had been like the sun, bringing light and wonder to everything he touched, and without that joy around it doesn’t seem worth the extra effort to smile. So he’s been moping. 

“Fucking hell,” Vesemir sighs. “Thank goodness I thought ahead.”

“What do you mean?” Eskel asks, joining the little group in the hallway outside the dressing room. “What did you think of?”

“Three,” Vesemir smiles, glancing at his watch. “Two… One…”

“Boooooys,” echoes a high tenor. “Where’s my welcome wagon, Vesemir?”

“Jaskier!” Aiden practically screams, leaping out of the dressing room and flying down the hall. Lambert follows at a sprint and Vesemir hears the resounding oof oh fuck of both giddy musicians hitting their mark. 

Geralt comes back down the hall at a jog, eyes searching frantically. “I thought I heard-”

“Geralt!”

Vesemir’s heart clenches in his chest at the way Geralt’s face lights up. At the end of the hallway, surrounded by spilled luggage and apologetic boyband members, is Jaskier. Geralt floats to him, it seems, like he’s dreaming the whole thing. Jaskier takes his hands and then releases them and wraps his arms low around Geralt’s hips instead. 

“I missed you the most,” he whispers, just for Geralt to hear. “Couldn’t sleep without listening to your CD. I know it’s silly but I really like you.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt whispers reverently into his shaggy brown hair. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going to do my thesis on pop culture’s relation to music history,” he says. “And then the manager of TW5 called Oxenfurt and offered me the opportunity to do some… first hand research while I worked on finishing the paper.”

“R-Really? You’re going to be here… every day?”

“Do you… do you not want me he-”

Geralt kisses him before he can even finish the question. It’s a stupid question anyway, of course Geralt wants him here. Wants him right here, kissing him silly. The singer presses his lips desperately, crushingly against Jaskier’s; he never wants to part from this man again. He never wants to be without that glorious laughter and contagious liveliness. Who knew that life could be so full of delight and happiness if he only let it? 

He kisses Jaskier for all he’s worth and more, pouring his heart and soul into it. When they pull apart, both gasping for air, Geralt asks, “Stay with me, Jaskier? You don’t have to do anything I just-”

“I’d love to be the big spoon,” Jaskier winks, whispering again. “Thank you, Geralt, for the rescue.”

[nerdzzone]

Only For A Moment: September

Summary: A series of shorter one shots from Chris and Whitney’s life together throughout the pandemic. Some happy times, some harder times, some fluff and some things a little more sexy - they work through it all as they try to get settled in their new and blossoming relationship.

Chris Evans x OFC

Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series

Only For A Moment: August

Note: I really liked writing this part so please let me know your thoughts!

-----

September 2020

Before the pandemic hit, we'd planned to send Grayson to preschool in the fall after he turned three. However, with the state of the world when the time arrived, it became a more complicated decision. We knew the benefits - we knew it would give him the opportunity to make friends and jumpstart his learning - but after many long, anxiety filled discussions, we decided to keep him home for another year. We didn't need it for childcare as neither of us had any work on the horizon and he still had another year before kindergarten so he wouldn't be missing out on preschool education completely. The risks just seemed to outweigh the benefits at that point in time given the case numbers in our area.

But not everyone had such an easy choice to make. People with older children had to educate them somehow - whether that be in person or online. In person classes had a much higher risk of exposure to the virus, but online classes were harder for children to focus on and required much more participation from the parents.

Carly had made the difficult choice to keep her kids at home and continue their online education, but it was proving to be harder than she'd anticipated. The kids were tired of learning through a computer and they missed their friends. Despite the risk of in person learning, they wanted to go back to school and were dragging their heels when it came to doing their work at home.

They started in August and by the middle of September, Carly was quickly losing her patience with all three of her children and, after a tearful phone call from his sister, Chris and I agreed to take them for an afternoon. They had some homework that we had to make sure they did, but Chris' goal was more related to sending them home with a renewed appreciation for their parents and a promise to keep working hard.

He'd picked them up just after lunch and given them a stern - but understanding - talking to on the way over to our place, but once they arrived he was back to being fun Uncle Chris and started their afternoon of school with gym class in the form of a soccer game. He ran them around the yard for over an hour before they wrapped up the game and came in for a snack. Then, the real school work started.

"So," Chris clapped. "What homework does everyone have?"

"Math..."

Ethan wrinkled his nose in disgust as he answered and his siblings nodded their heads in agreement.

"Well, it's your lucky day!" Chris grinned. "Whitney happens to be a math whiz! She went to university to be an accountant."

It was hard not to laugh at the disgust on their faces and I was tempted to inform them of the fact that I had dropped out just to retain my status as their uncle's 'cool' girlfriend. I thought that information might not help inspire them to work though so I kept it to myself.

"Why did you do that?" Miles questioned. "That's so boring!"

"It doesn't have to be," I insisted. "Chris, why don't you take Gray to do a puzzle or something and we'll get this work out of the way?"

"Sure," Chris nodded, plucking Grayson off the stool he was sitting on and throwing the giggling child over his shoulder. "And remember, the faster the homework gets done, the faster we can get back to doing fun stuff!"

I waited until Chris had left the room before shooting a smile at the little students that I was left with.

"Okay, now that he's gone, I can show you the secret to making math fun," I told them, stretching up to grab a big jar of jelly beans from the top shelf of a cupboard. It was Chris' secret stash, but I was sure he wouldn't be too mad if I borrowed it. "You just need to find some motivation."

The kid's eyes went wide.

"Are those Uncle Chris'?" Ethan asked, a hint of wonder in his voice.

"Yep," I smiled. "So, let's hurry and get to work before he comes back and catches us."

I shot them a wink and they all scurried off to get their notebooks.

-

It was easier to incorporate the candy into Miles and Stella's math homework as in the younger grades, they were mostly doing addition and subtraction. I helped them use the jelly beans as counters and let them eat them after every few questions. For Ethan, it was a bit trickier. In sixth grade, he was getting more into the start of algebra and some harder level fractions which jelly beans were less useful in. Instead, we used them as motivation and he got to eat a couple of jelly beans for every row of questions he finished.

We almost got away with our jelly bean thievery, but just as the kids were packing up their books, I heard a gasp come from the doorway.

"Are those my jelly beans?!"

The kids all burst out laughing as I shot Chris a sheepish look.

"I'm sorry. They needed some encouragement..."

Chris shook his head, but the smile on his face told me that he wasn't really that upset.

"I trusted you," he scolded me. "Now I'll have to find a new hiding spot and you won't be informed of its whereabouts."

I pouted at that as Grayson scrambled up onto the stool beside me to get his hands in the candy before it was moved.

"You could just be nice and share," I pointed out. "Making them forbidden just makes them more tempting."

"Yeah, Uncle Chris," Ethan nodded in agreement. "Plus, you're always telling us that we have to share stuff."

"You're getting too smart, kid," Chris smiled at him. "But unfortunately for you, I'm still in charge which means you have to do as I say, not as I do."

Ethan rolled his eyes at that as Stella frowned.

"That's not fair!"

"That's life," Chris shrugged. "Now, who's going to help me make some dinner?"

Grayson and Stella threw their hands up in the air as I popped another jelly bean into my mouth.

"What are we having?"

"Pasketti!" Grayson enthusiastically informed me, earning a laugh from Chris as he ruffled his hair.

"Spaghetti," he clarified. "With Ma's recipe for the sauce."

"Ooh, yum!"

I stole one last jelly bean before putting the lid back on the jar. The kids all whined in protest, but if Chris was making dinner then I knew it was time for me to stop stuffing them with sugar.

We all stayed in the kitchen as Chris started getting things ready, giving the kids simple jobs to do like opening jars and the occasional stirring. Dinner was about halfway ready when Miles got a cheeky smirk on his face.

"Uncle Chris?" He questioned, getting Chris' attention. "Aren't you going to sing the spaghetti song?"

That piqued my interest and I raised an eyebrow at Chris whose cheeks were slightly pinker than they'd been moments before.

"What's the spaghetti song?"

"On Top of Spaghetti," Chris informed me as if I should know what he was talking about. I didn't and my face must have shown him that. "C'mon! You have to know it!"

"I can't say that I do," I shrugged. "You'll have to enlighten me."

"Daddy sings it every time we have pasketti!" Grayson informed me, still mispronouncing the word.

"Well, I think I need to learn it then," I smiled. "Go on, Chris. Let's hear it."

The kids all agreed with me, hassling him to start the song.

"Alright, alright," he agreed after a moment of resistance. His cheeks were still looking a little rosy with embarrassment as he took a deep breath and then began. "On top of spaghetti, all covered with cheese. I lost my poor meatball, when somebody sneezed..."

I watched - filled with an almost overwhelming sense of affection for him - as he sang through all the verses of the song. The kids joined in where they could and all of them were giggling by the time he was done.

"Again, again!"

Grayson started the chant, but they all joined in and with a smirk, I did too.

"Yes, Chris! Again, again!" I teased. "So I can film it for Instagram!"

"Ha-ha," Chris laughed sarcastically. "You're so funny, Whitney. There will be no filming of this performance."

"But just think how much your fans would love it," I smiled. "You'd melt the hearts of women all over the world."

Chris let out a laugh at that comment, but didn't have time to respond before the kids took over again, demanding another performance. Once he was sure that my phone was safely out of reach, he launched into another round of song.

-

By the time dinner was done and the kids were all settled in front of the TV watching a movie, my heart was feeling rather full. Seeing Chris with all the children and enjoying the afternoon of a house full of their joy and laughter had me feeling things I hadn't been entirely sure I was ready to contemplate yet.

As I sat at the island in the kitchen, sipping my second glass of wine as Chris finished loading the dishwasher, I broached the subject.

"Today has been really nice," I told him, my voice catching his attention in the quiet room. "Having a house full of kids."

That thought clearly gripped his interest as he spun around to face me, still drying his hands.

"Yeah?" The excitement in his voice was palpable. "We haven't talked about that, have we? Do you want more kids?"

"I do," I smiled at his overzealous reaction. "At least one more. I'd like Grayson to have a sibling. It seems lonely to make him grow up all alone."

"It does," he agreed. "I can't imagine growing up without siblings."

"What about you?" I asked. "I mean, I know you've mentioned in interviews that you want a big family, but is that real? Or just for the family man image that your fans love so much?"

Chris chuckled and shrugged, but there was something sheepish about the way he was looking at me.

"Honestly?" He paused as if waiting for a response, but it seemed unnecessary. We both knew I wouldn't want anything other than the truth in a moment like this. "I want at least two more, maybe even three. Hell, I'd have another one right now if you were willing."

I almost choked on the wine I was sipping as those words left his mouth, but as I placed my glass safely back on the counter, the coughing shifted into laughter.

"We can't have another one now," I protested. "We've only been together for like four months!"

"Five," he corrected with a soft smile. "And we were only together for one night before we had Gray and I think he's turned out alright."

He was right about that and I would have been lying if I said that the thought of another little baby didn't stir something inside me, but the more rational side of me came through.

"We can't just rush into another baby," I insisted. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but that's a big decision."

"I know it is," Chris assured me. "I'm half-kidding. I know it's not something we can rush into, but another part of me thinks it would be nice to have one now while we've got nothing else going on."

"That's true, but this pandemic won't last forever," I pointed out. "Even if you got me pregnant right now, you'll hopefully be working again before it would even be born. I'm not sure I could deal with Grayson and a newborn all by myself."

"Yeah, but some experts think this mess is gonna last for a few years still which would make this the perfect time to have a baby."

I shot him a look and he shrugged with a smirk.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," I warned him. "Let's just see how this whole pandemic situation goes for a bit longer before we make any massive life plans."

"Alright, alright," Chris chuckled, coming around to my side of the island. He rested his chin on my shoulder and slid his arms around my waist, placing his hands on my stomach. "It would be nice though, wouldn't it? Having another little baby around. Another little mix of the two of us."

I could feel his breath on my neck as his voice was low in my ear and I had to admit that he was right. I was one of the lucky women who actually loved being pregnant and, despite how exhausting and stressful the newborn phase was, I did miss having a little baby around.

But my worries about our ability to co-parent if we split up were still lingering in my mind. They'd been eased slightly by how solid our relationship had been so far, but if it all fell apart, I was still worried about how we would cope. Adding another baby to that so soon seemed like a foolish thing to do.

"It would be nice," I agreed, letting my hands rest on top of his. "It will be nice, one day."

"Well, whenever you're ready," Chris paused to place a kiss on my neck. "Just let me know."

I smiled at his eagerness and turned my head to kiss his cheek.

"I will," I assured him. "And maybe, once the kids have gone home and Grayson's in bed, we could practice. Just so we know what we're doing when the time comes..."

"Oh, I know what I'm doing," Chris practically growled, his grip tightening around me to pull me closer against him. "Don't you worry about that."

I giggled at his confidence before wiggling out of his grasp and standing up from the stool I'd been sitting on.

"I'm not worried, but practice makes perfect, right?"

With a wink, I grabbed my wine and turned to leave the room and check on the kids. Our conversation had given me plenty to think about, but it was comforting as well. I had no doubts that one day I wanted to expand our little family and even if I wasn't quite ready yet, it was nice to know that Chris was on board.

The man was born to be a father, he excelled in every aspect of parenting, and I was grateful that I was the one who got to help him find that role and that I got to share the experience with him.

-

October + November [part one]

Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @firoozehmoon @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @chvntelle-99

[multimetaverse]

HSMTMTS 2x12 Review

Second Chances was a lacklustre finale for an uneven season. Let’s dig in!

Earlier this week I re-watched S1 in preparation for the S2 finale and the contrast between the two seasons is jarring. In almost every way S2 has been worse and after seeing this finale I’m less optimistic that Tim will be able to fix the long list of things that have gone wrong. Tim has said in some of his interviews today that pretty much all of S2 was written before the pandemic and that they didn’t have to do as much re-writing as people might think due to the stringent safety measures Disney put in place. Of course, that removes an excuse for the bad writing we’ve seen so much of this season as according to Tim what we saw of S2 is largely what he envisioned minus big crowds and background dancers.

 Across his many interviews today, the one consistent point is that Tim does not have any real plans for future seasons; things like Ricky’s endgame he hasn’t decided on and he can’t even guarantee the summer season the finale sets up due to the weather in Salt Lake. I do think a S3 is an almost certainty given the show’s popularity but I’ll take Tim at his word that he truly doesn’t know if they’ll be renewed since it seems to be a new Disney tradition to wait until seasons are done airing before making a renewal decision (the same thing happened for the popular and well received Mighty Ducks: Game Changers which got a silent renewal only after all of S1 aired). That being said as poor of a season finale as Second Chances is it is also a terrible potential series finale. In large part it goes back to his lack of planning, he wants to keep all options open but in doing so Tim is crippling the show’s ability to deliver any pay offs or tie up loose ends.  

The one mostly well done plot line this season was Portwell which got a happy ending tonight as they canoned. The only good thing about the big brother angst was that it was so insane that it had to be addressed and sure enough it was and Gina got her first kiss with a guy she really liked. If Tim is to be believed the reason we didn’t get an on screen Portwell kiss was not because of their age difference or covid concerns but because he felt that everyone’s first kiss was different so he wanted it off screen so viewers could fill in the blanks themselves. Tim’s line of reasoning is profoundly stupid. Imagine if they had Jamie show up and he and Gina talked off screen and Tim tried to claim that because everyone has a different relationship with their own siblings that he wanted the audience to fill in the blanks as to how their conversation went!

Still we saw great character development on Gina and EJ’s part as both really grew from the people they were in S1. As Tim noted, EJ bringing Gina back in 1x10 was kind of the set up for this story line. The only thing missing was a brief Portwell scene sometime in eps 2x01-2x04 to set them up. The consistent development they got from 2x05-2x12 is unlike any other ship on the show; only Rini exceeds their development. 

Unfortunately I don’t think that will last in S3 because Tim will always favour Ricky over EJ and if he wants to do Rina he’ll dispose of Portwell before doing so. I was surprised that they never bothered to have Ricky and Gina have a conversation about Gina’s S1 confession. It was a huge mistake to have Gina pine over Ricky for half the season and it was no surprise that Gina’s story line got instantly better once she stopped interacting with Ricky. Tim has made clear in interviews that he’s still interested in the possibility of Rina which makes his poor writing of them even more bizarre. What conclusions are the audience supposed to draw from the Rina story line this season? That Ricky never cared that much about Gina? That it’s totally fine for the show if they don’t interact for 6 eps in a row? That Gina has moved on? I’ve said before that a wiser man than Tim would recognize that doing both Portwell and Rina will do tremendous damage to the show and he should pick one and not do the other. Of course he’s not that smart but it is wild how he’s accidentally written their story line to make for a perfect end to Rina. 

Second Chances was great and is the only part of the finale that would have been well suited to being part of a potential series finale. 

The Rini closure was a sad inverse of their S1 opening night confession. They’ve fallen so far from being the it couple of the series and I fear Tim doesn’t actually know what to do with them now. He really needs to decide if he’s tearing down that treehouse for real. 

The less said about the Valentine’s chocolates the better but at least Gina and Nini are cool again and Nini can explore her budding music career with Jamie’s help. Tim repeatedly said in interviews that the scripts about Nini’s music career were all written before Driver’s License came out and I think he understands that the audience is just going to see the show as copying from Olivia’s life. 

The wildcats just deciding to drop out of the Menkies was a lame cop out. Tim has said he always meant for that to happen though they were originally going to compete at the Menkies then drop out (presumably that’s where we would have heard Lily singing Home). Somebody should have mentioned the $50 000 prize money which the East High theatre department could surely use after Miss Jenn and Mr. Mazzara burned it down (remember that story line that had no consequences?). And that NYU scholarship could have been life changing for one of them and yet no one even brought  it up once this season. 

I did like the twist that it was EJ and his dad who got Mazzara into Caltech. He’d be a fool not to take it but I’m glad he confessed to Miss Jenn. She’s had a really rough season and I hope she redeems herself in S3.

Howie was acting so weird tonight and last ep that I have a hard time believing he was really so awed by Kourtney’s talent rather than feeling guilty for helping to steal the harness. The harness is another useless plot device; there are no consequences for Lily stealing it, she’s not caught, East High pulls off another version of the transformation off screen, and then East High withdraws from the Menkies anyways. Doubtless the harness will eventually come up to serve Rily angst. 

At least Lily was straightforward, I’ll give her that. She has such an odd way of speaking, almost child like. As awful as it is there is potential for a forbidden/secret romance story line with Rily. It really does not speak well to Ricky’s character that he’s so easily fallen for Lily’s act when he has no reason to trust her and she never apologized for making fun of Big Red during the auditions or making Ashlyn feel insecure during the dance off. 

The one way in which S2 was drastically better to S1 was in regards to the Seblos story line. Clearly Joe being bumped up to regular made a big difference. We got the first same-sex kiss between two boys and the first love song sung by one boy to another in Disney history and that is a legacy to be proud of. Of course, there was still some Disney censorship such as Carlos and Seblos being unable to use the word gay in the same ep that focused on Carlos singing In a Heartbeat to Seb. 

S1 of HSMTMTS had a clear direction, the wildcats would have to try and come together to stage High School Musical and Ricky and Nini would have to decide if they still had a future together while Gina and EJ had to work on being better versions of themselves. It was simple sure but it worked very well. There was a lot of heart but also a lot of humor and the show never took itself too seriously. What has S2 had? Beauty and the Beast was hardly the main focus of the cast or the writers and the central couple that S1 was built around is now broken up either for a long time or for good. There was a lot less of the meta moments that jokes that made S1 such a hit, for far too many eps this season the show took itself way too seriously. Hell even the lighting this season was darker than in S1. 

Olivia Rodrigo’s team had complained in a recent article that Olivia wouldn’t be able to potentially tour until fall 2022 due to her contractual commitments which is a sign that they think a S3 is very likely though I wonder how late S3 filming would have to start to keep her occupied until late 2022. There’s no confirmation of this but I thought it might be worth keeping an eye on; a post on r/hsmtmts by someone who claims to have a source working on production says that the plan is for S3 to be a summer theatre camp possibly with Camp Rock renditions and the plan for S4 is to jump 6 months ahead to the final semester of senior year and end with Ricky, Nini, Big Red, and Kourtney graduating from East High. They also say that part of the delay in the S3 announcement is a conflict between Tim and Disney executives. Tim wants to move production to LA and film on sets as it’s easier and cheaper while the Disney execs still want some on location shooting in Salt Lake. Again this is all unconfirmed but if it pans out it will represent a major shift in the series. 

Regardless if Tim wants the show to remain successful he needs start planning out what he wants to happen. He should not assume he’s getting more than 4 seasons. If the series gets a S3 but then is suddenly cancelled then how would he want all the main story lines to wrap up? And if they make it to S4 where does he see it ending? The graduation of the current juniors is a logical series ending point but if Tim wants to do something different he needs to start thinking of that now. I can’t say I’m excited anymore for S3 but I do really hope that Tim and his writers can turn things around and that will only happen if they recognize what they did wrong and learn from their mistakes. 

Until next season Wildcats

[prose-for-hire]

The Devil’s in the details

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: “Satanism for dummies? Interesting choice in books...anything you want to tell me?" And Fluff With spike

Requested by: Anon

Warning: Reader is a killer. They kill a person. For the Devil. Kidnap. Big blood mention. Mention of hiding a body.

A/N: Okay. So it’s not fluffy but I’ve injected some cuddling with Spike into it cos I got carried away with the plot. Hope this is okay anon - I got carried away. I can write you something fluffier (after Halloween) if you want to drop another request... Happy Halloween month !!

It was that time of year again. The yearly struggle where you had to offer a sacrifice to the Dark Lord again to ensure he kept his end of the bargain. Halloween night was circled and underlined in your calendar in thick red pen. Blood red. A coincidence, of course. You sighed, planning out this year’s would be tricky.

You had your boyfriend to think about and people knew you in Sunnydale now, it was hard to keep under the radar. You were practiced in what you needed to do, knowing there was no other way around it. As far as Spike was concerned, you were a sweetheart. A pure, innocent person who wouldn’t so much as look at someone the wrong way.

He was convinced you had never said a swear word and he was equally convinced you would turn to dust if you even attempted it. As far as he was aware, you knew nothing of demons or vampires or anything other than your pleasant life. And this is how you wanted it to stay.

However, Spike had long been trying to find a way to tell you about the supernatural. The Hellmouth. He didn’t want to scare you off, so he had been lying or more avoiding the truth. He wanted to tell you this year though, before Halloween.

You loved him but there were certain things that you would rather he didn’t know about you. For now at least. Especially the fact that you already knew he was a vampire. You smiled at him softly, leaning in and kissing his cheek – a greeting you always gave. He loved it, it was as if he was a husband returning home. He felt cherished by your affection. You never shied away, you wanted him to feel loved. Always.

“Can’t believe it’s been two years and I’ve never so much as had an invitation before, love”

“We did agree Spike – you have your space and I have mine”

“Yeah, but all your crap is in my space” he raised his voice an octave higher to cement his point, “Most men would have left over it, y’know” he added, pointing at you for emphasis.

“Then I’m very lucky to have such an understanding and kind boyfriend” You smiled, squeezing his hand before letting go, “God, your hands are always so cold”

“It’s my condition, love. Anaemia – always, uh, makes me cold” he muttered, not convincing anyone. But you just nodded along, smiling.

Spike had always meant to tell you but had never found the time. Besides, you had your own secrets (he wasn’t stupid he just didn’t suspect the truth) so he didn’t feel so bad about lying. Most of the time.

It was finally Halloween. You knew the drill. Spike would stay in and you would go where you were directed. You woke up to the same mysterious name written on a piece of paper you always did. It was the kind that would combust when you fulfilled your end of the bargain.

You walked up to the bar to order your drink, reading the nametag and smiling. This was getting easier every year. It almost made it difficult to feel the guilt anymore. You spent your evening talking to him, waiting until his break before you managed to subdue him and bring him back to your apartment. Usually, hitting them over the head and dragging them into the boot of your car seemed to work. Your neighbours were usually out and if anyone stopped you, you explained it was an elaborate costume. 

You were sat watching a gory horror film with the volume up high as you waiting for your new bartender friend to wake up from his little nap. He was propped up on the couch beside you. You had zip tied his hands and feet but you weren’t so cruel that you would cover his mouth. 

He finally started to come around as the humorous film started to get good. You shrugged, you were sure you could rent it for some light-hearted entertainment another day. They never quite got it right anyway. The blood was never the right colour.

He opened his eyes and started to yell. You hushed him and helped him regulate his breathing until he calmed down. When he eventually calmed down you explained the situation calmly, “So, listen, you’re gonna die tonight. But it’s for a really good reason so, at least there’s that” You nod along with yourself, smiling sweetly as his eyes widened in horror, “Okay I have to do a little ritual now that you’re awake just uh, stay still”

You got up, switching off the tv and lighting the red candles that had already been arranged in a circle on your coffee table. An ornate knife was in the middle of the circle. You closed your eyes, chanting some well-practiced verses. You motioned your arms slowly and you felt the warmth in the room dial up. The familiar crackle of flames started to sound around you.

You took the knife from the centre and awkwardly helped the man up, before slicing the blade across his throat. The liquid oozes from his wound and he started to sink to his knees, his blood splattering everywhere.

“Fuck, not on the rug!” You looked horrified, “What is wrong with you?! Over the chalice!” you hissed as if it was the poor man’s fault. You grabbed the chalice and held it under his neck, trying to 

The man slowly lost his life as you took the most important part for yourself. His blood. You sighed, rolling your eyes at his crumpled form as his blood soaked into your now ruined rug.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on your door. Shit. 

You slip your clothes off and grab the nearest items of fresh clothes so you could go to the door. In your haste, you almost slip on the pooling blood as you make your way to the door.

“What?!” you shouted, scowling at the visitor before you realised who it was, “Oh, Spike! Hi. It’s Halloween… you said you stay in on Halloween in case of the cute kids wanting candy”

“I said that-?” He questioned, before he caught a distinct smell of something he knew well. His stomach rumbled to confirm his suspicions, “What’s going on? I can smell-”

“Smell what?” You ask innocently. He squinted, before shrugging. It must be a different apartment in the block.

“Uh, nothing, can I come in?”

“I’m actually pretty busy… I’m, uh, I’m… baking” You said. Nobody, especially not yourself, was convinced by that excuse. But Spike just smiled slightly and nodded before asking once more, “Look, I need to come in. It’s… important. I gotta tell you somethin’ or my damned head will explode” he gestured at his head as he shook it, “Can I come in?” he pressed once more.

“Uh…” You look at the mess behind you that you’re concealing from his view by the door, “Just… give me time to clean the place up. I’ll be… 10 minutes” You muttered, slamming the door in his face and putting the lock on – just in case.

You clean the best you can, using so much bleach you were worried you would pass out. You sigh. Every year you tell yourself to put plastic sheeting down and every year you forget and end up ruining an item of furniture you were fond of. That was the real sacrifice you had to make, you sighed again as you rolled the poor man up in the rug and pulled him away. You found him a spot to rest in your tub. Hopefully Spike wouldn’t pick today to use the bathroom. The rug and the bleach all thrown in there too.

The blood now up the best it could be, you manage to find a roll of cookie dough to put in the oven. You sweep all of your occult stuff into a box and hid it under your bed and cram the rest into the cupboards. 

You had been twenty five minutes, but hoped Spike just presumed that you were house proud.

“I like your place, pet. Spotless” he said perusing the area. He smiled, it smelled of you and… cleaning products. Bleach. Oh, and cookies he smiled. He hoped that you would let him have some later on.

They say love is blind, and Spike was completely head over heels in love with you. So much so, he could only note the smell of cookie dough and you and didn’t think to question the smell of the blood that had been thinly masked by bleach.

He then eyed something on the coffee table that you had set down during the heavy-duty cleaning, “Satanism for dummies? Interesting choice in books...anything you want to tell me?" He joked, a slight smile as he started to flip through it. You grinned back, trying to conceal the fact that you were wiping beads of sweat from your brow when he looked up by scratching your scalp.

“It’s for Halloween – they were handing them out at the… mall”

“Uh, sit down pet” he said, sitting down in the same spot your previous guest had, “I need to… there’s somethin’ I need to say” he started to explain. He had chosen now to reveal who he really was. The fact that he was a vampire. He insisted he loved you and that it wouldn’t change anything between you.

You gasp, perhaps over exaggeratedly but you were actually surprised that he would choose now to tell you. You of course knew about demons and you were unsure if he was telling you this so he could take a bite from the body in your bathroom tub.

“I mean it – I’m… a vampire” He showed you his game face, taking your shock for disbelief. You cup his cheek gently, insisting this would never make a difference. You traced your thumb over his features and he closed his eyes at your touch.

“I will always love you. No matter what” You insisted, leaving a chaste kiss against his lips. He nodded slowly, smiling at your insistence. You caressed him softly, hoping he could feel the sincerity of your actions. You honestly weren’t scared of him. Or repulsed. You felt so deeply for him. You held him close to you as he flipped on the tv. You both settled into the sofa, stroking through his hair softly as he closed his eyes and leaned into you. You kissed his temple and whispered your continued affirmations. That you would never leave him. That you could never stop loving him.

You heard something and cast an eye to the kitchen, which you could see from your living space. The familiar figure you met every Halloween was there. The Devil.

You smiled, winking at the Devil as he took his offering as if he were Santa sneaking in on Christmas night. He smirked, drinking from the cup and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He clapped his hands and left which you caught from your peripheral vision.

You smiled warmly. It was all worth it. You were satisfied as you snuggled into Spike’s now open arms, you would keep the love of an immortal for another year at least.

[mrs-nate-humphrey]

(submission) Hi! So this started out as an ask, but as always, it got way too unwieldy for the ask box. And I’ll flat out state that while I am studying public policy and urban planning, I am by no means an expert on gentrification or on Brooklyn specifically - both are still topics I’m actively learning about. That said, I think there’s a couple of reasons people make a “thing” out of the Humphreys’ loft. For starters, it’s an incredibly easy way to undercut Dan and Jenny’s experiences amongst their peers by pointing out that they’re not really poor, so why are they complaining so much?? This, of course, ignores the facts that 1. they never claim to actually be poor, 2. the show never suggests that they really are - only otherwise classist characters like Blair do - and, 3. just because they were being bullied for a bullshit reason, it… doesn’t actually make the bullying any less bad? In fact, most bullying is over trivial nonsense - pointing that out doesn’t make it any less harmful to the bullied! Nonetheless, for people who dislike the Humphreys and are tired of their “whining”, it’s an easy rhetorical device to bludgeon them with. Besides that though, it’s largely a projection of today’s Brooklyn onto the 2007 Brooklyn the show is set in, and more importantly, the 1990s Brooklyn Rufus started raising his family in. It’s true that if you tried to purchase or even rent a space like the one Dan and Jenny grew up in now, you would need to basically be a millionaire, full stop. But acting as though a middle class family would NEVER have been able to live in a property like that isn’t just an overgeneralization - it’s simply ahistorical. Now, to be clear, Brooklyn as a whole started gentrifying all the way back in the 1960s, and has done so in periodic waves. Williamsburg in particular slowly began gentrifying starting in the 1970s - although this process didn’t reach a critical mass until the late 1990s, with a specific turning point coming in 2005. Looking to take advantage of the influx of young professionals and Manhattanites moving to the area and increasingly hungry for waterfront property, the New York City Council introduced a mass rezoning effort that transformed a great number of the neighborhoods’ then numerous manufacturing plants and warehouses into expensive, high-end residential buildings and condominiums. This rezoning process ended up pushing out many of the same working class residents that had historically been the lifeblood of the community - many of them unfortunately and unsurprisingly POC (specifically, Puerto Ricans, Dominicans, and Hasidic Jews). This wave of mass gentrification is what MADE Williamsburg the poster child for gentrification in NYC - up until this point you still had a fairly vibrant working class community living there (even amongst all of the incoming artists and hipsters, yes). Assuming Rufus bought the loft in the early 90s around the time Dan was a baby - back when he still had a semi-relevant music career - it would have been right on the cusp of an earlier rezoning effort that came in the late 90s - one that saw the median price of a home in Williamsburg skyrocket by an average of 60%. Arguably, the Humphrey family were THEMSELVES gentrifiers (albeit unintentionally), given that they pretty damn well fit the profile of “young artists looking for affordable housing that end up attracting real estate investors, that then make the area unaffordable”. Admittedly, the history of gentrification in Brooklyn isn’t exactly common knowledge, and I’ve significantly oversimplified it here - but a lot of the “how could the Humphreys live in Williamsburg when Williamsburg is so expensive???” discourse is coming from people who either have never lived in the city and know it only from television, or have lived in New York but are young enough that they don’t remember Williamsburg ever NOT being the textbook example of gentrification. It’s interesting to me how much I’ve noticed this particular line of argument increase over time - I think a lot of it is coming from younger viewers who

simply don’t realize how recent this gentrification still is, historically speaking. Finally, there’s the much fairer point that is made, and that is that the interior of the Humphreys’ loft looks MASSIVE compared to what it would be like in reality, a point which I’ll happily concede. There’s no doubt that the TV set of the loft is depicted as being incredibly nice and spacious - just look at those high ceilings! But there is also a very simple, practical reasoning behind this that does not involve the Humphreys lying about their economic status - it is very hard to film with a full camera rig in cramped spaces, so the set designers made the loft bigger than it actually would be in real life. That is why almost all TV apartments look unrealistically large - it’s not that writers don’t understand the areas and lifestyles they’re writing about, it’s that production crews often sacrifice accuracy to make their jobs a little easier. Anyways, hoped this helped a bit! For reference (and in case you’re interested in the subject and would like more information), a lot of my dates and data concerning gentrification in Williamsburg came from this very informative profile that Macaulay Honors College did on the subject - they’re actually in the process of studying a bunch of different neighborhoods in NYC and charting the specific history of how they became gentrified. It’s really a very interesting (albeit depressing) lens through which to study New York history, in my opinion.

[cynicalrainbows]

So the very lovely @shut-up-heather-d requested some headcanons for TNBT featuring Kitty and Jane or Catalina and Anna and I didn’t get round to it yesterday because I’m useless but hopefully they’re still enjoyable, even if they are a day late!

Catalina and Anna

Catalina obviously gets to know Anne more quickly and easily because she’s Cathy’s best friend and she’d already heard a bit about her before Cathy started living with her BUT she also gets very invested and interested in Anna too, partly because she’s terrified that Cathy’s jealousy of her is going to lead to her doing or saying something REALLY bitchy one day and she’ll have to smooth it over and everyone at the school will judge Catalina for being a Bad Guardian but ALSO because she utterly empathises with the feeling of being the New Person who is sort of on the fringes. So she’s sympathetic to Anna anyway and then after the sleepover, she is just also very very grateful to Anna and decides she is going to do everything she can to encourage this friendship because Anna is clearly A Good Egg. (That’s a phrase Catalina definitely wouldn’t use but....I have a compulsion to use it here. So it’s staying.)

To that end, she makes sure to let Cathy know that Anna is very much welcome if Catalina ends up having Anne over, and she sometimes asks Cathy how Anna is doing with fitting in at a new school. And generally she does pretty well because she’s Cool and Nice and Fun. 

Of course there’s always one bitch of a parent- one of the Dad’s is a Farage supporter (because there’s always one) and he goes off to his kid about ‘EU immigrants taking all the jobs’ and then this gets repeated at school and then some other kids join in because....well, it’s raining and they can’t play out so this is a fair second. Anne and Cathy do their best to defend Anna (who makes a valiant effort to defend herself too until it becomes Too Much because actually she sort of does want to go home still? And being TOLD to but not being able to is horrible) but they don’t have an amazing understanding of what’s being said so the kid with the awful Dad ends up sort of getting the better of them, until Anne ends it all by throwing a chair at them. 

That does shut them up. 

Cathy comes home from school boiling with rage at the injustice and at how Anne got into trouble and how even the teacher who told the mean kids off ended up talking to Anna too about ‘fitting in’ and ‘ignoring them’ and how now Anna is really miserable and saying how much she hates being here and how everyone back home is MUCH nicer. 

Catalina decides she’s going to try and help- so she calls the school to let them know that she knows what’s going on (and her opinion of how it was dealt with) and then she has Cathy ask Anna over to play without Anne. Once she’s over, Catalina manufactures a reason for Caty to be out of the room for a bit and then she asks Anna a bit about what she’s been going through. Anna is a bit wary of telling her anything because....well, she’s just this random adult who she’s never talked much to before, but Catalina tells her about how she’s gone through the same thing, how she knows what it’s like. 

Anna breaks down with the guilt- about how she’s being blamed for stuff she doesn’t understand and how much she misses home and then how she feels like she’s not allowed to admit it for fear of seeming ungrateful, and Catalina is VERY reassuring and validating and lets her know that she’s allowed to miss whatever she wants and how she absolutely doesn’t deserve to be harassed by mini xenophobes. Anna really enjoys having a grown up who isnt her parents actually understand and Catalina tells her that she’ll have a chat with Anna’s Mum and that if Anna ever wants to talk to her more about it, she can. 

Anna’s Mum is so grateful for Catalina’s intervention because now Anna has an adult who can not only empathise but also give actual advice AND that Anna doesn’t have to worry about upsetting, and so Anna sort of gets into the habit of calling Cathy and Catalina whenever she’s having a hard time. 

She comes over to play sometimes and she and Cathy and Catalina (and sometimes Anne too) make traditional German deserts and Anna finds the tv shows she misses from home online and it just helps her settle in better. As she acclimatises, she stops calling so much but she and Catalina still have a sort of understanding that Catalina is there if she needs her, in a capacity as more than just ‘Cathy’s godmother’ and it’s all very pure and wholesome.

Jane and Kitty

Jane does everything she can to try to give Kitty the validation and attention that she misses out on- she knows that while Anne’s extroverted nature means she doesn’t get overlooked often, Kitty just sort of blends into the background and people go between either treating her like a toddler and not expecting ANYTHING of her (because she’s four and it’s pretty much always easier to dothings for a four year old than to have them do it themselves) OR they randomly expect her to be able to do things she’s never tried or practised before because ‘that’s what normal kids are doing’. So Jane tries very very hard to give Kitty a space where she can try things and make mistakes and (most importantly) not be punished or blamed for it. She’ll spend forty minutes waiting for Kitty to choose her clothes and dress herself independently because she knows it’s something she needs to be able to do and the only way to learn is to practise. She doesn’t ignore her or anything- she stays right there and is wildly encouraging but she makes Kitty do it herself and makes a big thing out of how only really, really clever big girls can do up all the buttons on their cardigan by themselves and doesn’t Kitty want to show Pink Kitty how clever she is? She also praises her extravagantly for asking to do a thing by herself because she knows she really needs to nurture Kitty’s independence before it’s crushed out of her entirely.

For things like chores also she’ll have Kitty help her as much as possible, even when it DOES mean she has to then secretly go and re do it later. She makes a little apron for Kitty to wear for chores (not because it’s needed but because dressing up just makes everything more bearable) and a slightly bigger one for Anne (who fully gets into a the spirit and likes to pretend that she’s a poor Victorian servant girl being cruelly overworked by her mistress, like Sara Crewe, or an orphan like Annie- and of course Jane indulges her too and will threaten Anne with all sorts of dramatic, hilarious punishments while she sets her to tasks) and a very tiny one for Pink Kitty. Anne’s Mum simultaneously HATES that the girls are being encouraged to do chores like ‘the help’ but also despairs that their bedroom is a mess.

When Jane makes them breakfast or dinner or whatever, Kitty gets her portion and then Pink Kitty gets a tiny portion on a saucer. (When Kitty is brought to Catalina’s, Silver Kitty sometimes gets brought to the table too and is given a crumb-sized portion as well on a plate made from a 5p.)

Jane does all she can to normalise Kitty’s situation for her- she doesn’t want Kitty to feel eithe pressured to feign love and adoration for a mother she never met OR to feel like it’s a secret. She keeps telling Anne’s Mum not to freak out when Kitty gets confused and calls Anne’s Mum ‘Mummy’- she reminds her again and again that it’s just that she’s four and she’s copying Anne and to just gently correct her and move on, and that no, Kitty getting bored when they visit Jocasta’s grave isn’t a horrible sign of her being an uncaring child, it’s just that she’s too little to really get it. She is so looking forward to when Kitty is old enough to actually hear proper stories of Jocasta but for now she doesn’t want to push things.

She is awful for changing the ending of books and turning off films if she thinks they’re getting too scary. Anne didn’t even KNOW Harry Potter was anything other than ‘fun story about wizard boarding school’ until Cathy asked her whether she was scared of Voldemort. Kitty meanwhile has NO idea that there is an extra Mog book where Mog dies- as much as Jane knows that it’s an excellent and child friendly explanation of death, she can’t even think about it without crying herself. Eventually, she gets Catalina to read it to Kitty (Catalina tears up herself but she hides it better; Kitty is fooled, Cathy less so.)

[introvertguide]

The Apartment (1960); AFI #80

The next film on the list that we reviewed was the one of the last black and white films to win best picture, The Apartment (1960). The film actually held the title of last B&W Best Picture winner for 50 years until The Artist came along in in 2011. Along with Best Picture, the film was nominated for 10 Oscars and won Best Director, Best Screenplay, Best Art Direction, and Best Editing. The film also won Best Picture from the Golden Globes, the BAFTAs, the Director’s Guild Awards, and the Critic’s Circle Awards. Truly a great synthesis of acting, directing, cinematography, music, and story, this movie is one of the lesser known greatest films of all time. I have more to say about this film, but I want to go over the story in all of its excellence. But first...

SPOILER ALERT!!! THIS COMEDY HAS LEGITIMATE SURPRISES AND SUBJECT MATTER THAT WOULDN’T FLY TODAY!!! TRULY A GREAT FILM THAT NEEDS TO BE SEEN!!! I STRONGLY SUGGEST WATCHING IT INSTEAD OF JUST READING THE STORY LINE!!!

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An opening run of establishing shots with a voice over by the main character lets the audience know that he is a drone accountant at a giant firm with little chance to move up in the world. C.C. Baxter (Jack Lemmon) is a lonely office drudge at a national insurance corporation in New York City. He has lucked out and found a way to leverage his home in order to climb the corporate ladder. Baxter allows four company managers to take turns borrowing his Upper West Side apartment for their extramarital liaisons, which he manages with a detailed schedule. Baxter has not seen any movement, but he is constantly offered the promise of a promotion since he is a “team player.” 

One of the serious down sides of this ploy is that his apartment is in constant use and the bosses are making a mess and drinking all his liquor. C.C. has no place to go some nights so he stays and works late. Because C.C. is constantly going in and out and people can hear women in his apartment, he is starting to develop a different kind of reputation with the other tenants. While unable to enter his own apartment when it is in use, his neighbors assume that their neighbor is a playboy bringing home a different woman every night.

C.C. is able to get glowing performance reports from his four managers and he is able to submit them to the personnel director, Jeff D. Sheldrake (Fred MacMurray), in hope of a promotion. Sheldrake promises to promote him, but demands that he also receive use of the apartment for his own affairs, beginning that night. As compensation for such short notice, he gives Baxter two theater tickets to The Music Man. After work, C.C. asks Fran Kubelik (Shirley MacLaine), an elevator operator in the office building, to go to the musical with him. She agrees but goes first to meet with a "former fling," who turns out to be Sheldrake, and let him know there will be no more meetings. When Sheldrake dissuades her from breaking up with him and promising to divorce his wife for her, they go to the apartment as poor Baxter waits forlornly outside the theater.

Later, at the company's raucous Christmas party (there is dancing on the tables and the lamest strip tease of all time), Fran is told by Miss Olsen (Edie Adams), Sheldrake's secretary, that Sheldrake has also had affairs with her and other women employees. Later at Baxter’s apartment, Fran confronts Sheldrake with his lies. Sheldrake maintains that he genuinely loves her, but that he has no intention of splitting up with his wife. He then leaves to return to his suburban family as usual and Fran is so depressed that she finds sleeping pills in the apartment bathroom and attempts suicide.

Baxter learns through finding a dropped hand mirror that Fran is the woman Sheldrake has been taking to his apartment, so he goes to a bar and lets himself be picked up by a married woman. When they arrive at his apartment, he is shocked to find Fran in his bed, seemingly dead. He sends his pick-up away and enlists the help of his neighbor, Dr. Dreyfuss (Jack Krushen), to revive Fran without notifying the authorities. I should not laugh, but it is pretty funny that the doctor goes straight to slapping Fran in the face to wake her up. The actors did not hold back; he is slapping her in the face really hard, so much so that you can tell her cheeks are reddening even in black and white. Baxter makes Dreyfuss believe that he was the cause of the incident and, scolding his neighbor for his apparent philandering, Dreyfuss advises him to "be a mensch, a human being."

As Fran spends two days recuperating in the apartment, C.C. takes care of her, and a bond develops between them, especially after he confesses to having attempted suicide himself over unrequited feelings for a woman who now sends him a fruitcake every Christmas. While they play a game of gin rummy, Fran reveals that she has always suffered bad luck in her love life. As Baxter prepares a romantic dinner, one of the managers arrives with a woman. Although Baxter persuades them to leave, the manager recognizes Fran and informs his colleagues. Later confronted by Fran's brother-in-law, Karl Matuschka, who is looking for her, the managers direct Karl to the apartment out of jealousy. At the apartment, Karl's anger at Fran for her behavior is deflected by Baxter, who again takes responsibility. Karl punches C.C. (and interviews with Lemmon revealed that the punch did land), but when Fran kisses him for protecting her, he just smiles and says it "didn't hurt a bit."

Sheldrake learns that Miss Olsen told Fran about his affairs, so he makes the poor choice of firing the woman who knows of all his dealings, and she retaliates by meeting with Sheldrake's wife, who promptly throws her husband out. Sheldrake believes that this situation just makes it easier to pursue his affair with Fran. Having promoted C.C. to an even higher position, which also gives him a key to the executive washroom, Sheldrake expects Baxter to loan out his apartment yet again. Baxter gives him back the washroom key instead, proclaiming that he has decided to become a mensch, and quits the firm.

That night at a New Year's Eve party, Sheldrake indignantly tells Fran what happened. Realizing she is in love with Baxter, Fran abandons Sheldrake and runs to the apartment. At the door, she hears what sounds like a gunshot. Fearing that Baxter has attempted suicide again, she frantically pounds on the door. Baxter answers, holding a bottle of champagne whose cork he had just popped in celebration of his plan to start anew. As the two settle down to resume their gin rummy game, Fran tells C.C. that she is now free too. When he asks about Sheldrake, she replies, "We'll send him a fruitcake every Christmas." He declares his love for her, and she replies, "Shut up and deal."

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This film is one of the most praised movies of all time, but it is not one of the most generally well known. This is probably due to the subject matter, although It’s A Wonderful Life also deals with suicide and is one of the America’s most popular family films. The problem is most likely that extra marital affairs by big company management as a normal thing was highly frowned upon. With the whole #MeToo movement, it seems that this kind of philandering culture might very well have been a known problem for decades. A movie based around the premise that office managers need a nice place to have sex with secretaries and elevator girls would not have been acceptable under the Hays Code. This is also the second film on the AFI list where Fred MacMurray plays a bad guy before being the understanding patriarch on My Three Sons and the first person honored as a Disney Legend in 1987. Fun fact, MacMurray was an uncredited extra in a film called Girls Gone Wild in 1929.

Billy Wilder knew that this was going to be a divisive film due to content, but he also had the confidence that everything would work out following the massive success of his previous film, Some Like It Hot. Wilder had considered a film based on adultery back in the 1940s but was unable to get funding at the time due to the Hays Code. The film was also based on a real life Hollywood drama in which an agent was shot by a producer over an affair (in which a low level employee apartment was used) as well as a friend of a co-writer who returned home to a dead ex-girlfriend following a break-up. 

It is amazing to think that this film is described as a comedy. There are office politics in which mid-level managers use local celeb status to take advantage of their subordinates. There are half a dozen cheating husbands that string along their affairs. There are characters so hurt that they would rather die than deal with what is done with them. There are raging parties at work where everyone gets massively drunk and dance on the desks. Women are treated like objects that either need to be protected with violence or thrown away. And yet the film is legitimately fun with characters that are worth rooting for.

Some of the success rides on the fabulous acting of Jack Lemmon and Shirley MacLaine and the witty dialogue written by I.A.L. Diamond. In fact, the dialogue and limited characters feels a lot like a stage play, which come to fruition in the form of Promises, Promises on Broadway by Burt Bacharach, Hal David, and Neil Simon. Dealing with real sets and locations, however, resulted in some colds and sickness since the actors were really out in the New York snow. Some other realism in the film came from both lead actors taking blows for the film: Shirley MacLaine got proper slapped by the doctor and Jack Lemmon was really punched by the brother-in-law.

A stand out aspect for me in this film which I talk up quite a bit is the cinematography. I have used many screen grabs from the film and used them as my avatar. I identify with the feeling of being used for something which made a mid manager look good while allowing them to do bad things. In fact, I am sure that everyone has felt like a Baxter at some point, and it is great to see him stand up for himself. Here are a couple of screen grabs (besides the top photo above) that I have used:

That lonely man in the middle of countless empty desks, that look of frustration when others are using your things to live a better life than you, and that time that love makes utility become fun and gadgets seem pretentious. It is very easy for me to get lost in how much I love this film. It has been far and away my favorite find from the AFI Top 100 between when I first saw the film in 2014 and now.

So, should the film be on the top 100 list? It has the awards and the history along with being a fantastic film. Of course it belongs on the list. Would I recommend it? Yes. This film is the type that makes people like me want to go through lists like this. I had never heard of the film in 2014 and it floored me how good it was. Each time I watch I appreciate it more, and the whole film project becomes well worth my time and effort. This film is so good, it affirms my life choices. I invite and implore you to check it out for yourself.

[off-off-off]

7 Simple Ways ahead Up with an Product Idea

Since the Mesopotamians and also the Ancient Greeks uncovered the world-changing opportunities of the wheel, mankind has been bound by a continuous wish to innovate. From the manufacturer inventions of Ford, Edison, as well as Tesla to the modern technology wizards of Silicon Valley, countless ideas-- some good, some poor-- have been conceived, cultivated, and also built.

Consequently, masterminding the next huge money-maker is a very popular pastime, even if the fact is somewhat a lot more sobering for the majority of us. But that doesn't suggest that you need to abandon your internal business owner the minute you struck a creative wall; after all, there are numerous methods to produce good organization suggestions.

Whether it's via transforming your basic expectation or wanting enough to take on brand-new techniques, anybody can have a possibly life-changing suggestion; all you require to do is figure out how to open it. Follow InventHelp Instagram For more tips and advice

So, if you have actually ever intended to transform the world-- or you merely just intend to make bags of money-- then listen. Below's how ahead up with a product suggestion that could potentially do both.

1. Be a Visionary

The good news is that anybody can be a visionary; the bad news is that really couple of ended up being successful ones. This is because plucking a principle or a concept out of slim air-- as well as transforming it into something useful and feasible-- is an extremely delicate process.

That does not imply it's difficult. While some individuals are naturally more creative than others, there are plenty of points you can do to stimulate the appropriate side of your brain; music, for example, is generally mentioned as a way of opening inspiration, while various other kinds of aesthetic art and also literary works can also feed the ingenious fire.

Your environments can play a big component, too. A few of the globe's most interesting minds need their distinct innovative room in which to thrive, and your own is likely no different. Whether it's a minimal office, a remote cabin, or somewhere near the sea, place on your own in an area where you can unwind as well as transport your ideas proficiently.

Keep in mind: it's near difficult to take a seat as well as order yourself to invent something. Imagination is a natural sensation that requires to be enabled space and time to expand, so put on your own in the very best possible frame of mind to attain it.

2. Recognize a Trouble in Your Life

For those who choose a more sensible, hands-on approach to suggestion generation, you can always go back to the basic cornerstone of product invention: search for an issue or an aspect of your life that could be less complicated, and afterward find out a method of making it so.

This may sound like an obvious pointer, but nearly every terrific organization item of the last 20 years has been a result of this approach. A few of the world's most effective business owners have reached where they are by using a relatively apparent fix to an individual concern. Pierre Omidyar created ebay.com so he could market his unwanted belongings, while Travis Kalanick and Garrett Camp-- the cofounders of Uber-- allegedly developed the ride-sharing application in Paris after being not able to hail a taxi.

Inevitably, though, if it's a problem for you, then possibilities are others are experiencing the same problems. By devising a service, you will not just be making your very own life that little bit less complicated, but a great deal of other people's, as well, strengthening the moneymaking possibility that your product could bring.

3. Recognize a Problem in Another Person's Life

If you're fortunate adequate to live a problem-free life, after that a choice is to expand your range; recognizing a potential option to a modern worldwide problem is a surefire way to amass large-scale passion in your item.

Whether it's social, ecological, or cultural, there's no shortage of problems to attend to, either. Renewable power is a lively location for advancement amongst engineers, while many licenses have been filed for gadgets that produce clean drinking water in creating nations.

You don't necessarily need to reinvent the wheel, either; Toms shoe owner Blake Mycoskie executed a buy-one-give-one business version for his footwear business in a proposal to give shoes to impoverished youngsters in South America.

Thinking of a suggestion that truly transforms individuals' lives right is widely gratifying-- and also not just in an economic sense-- so if you have the technical or design abilities to match your creative mind, then consider exactly how you can make a positive distinction.

4. Build Upon Something That Currently Exists

Nearly all inventions have a shelf-life up until they are superseded by something better or they evolve into something a lot more efficient. This is where you could come in, taking a product or an innovation that is reaching its best-before date, and transforming it as something brand-new.

Just to be clear, this doesn't imply taking an iPod and repackaging it with a different layout; you require to improve the capacities of the item. This can mean developing a brand-new innovation that inevitably offers the very same function but with a great deal even more convenience for the individual. Besides, as Henry Ford notoriously once claimed, if he 'd inquired what people desired when he was creating the auto, they would certainly have requested a quicker steed.

It is commonly claimed that there's no such thing as true originality which all concepts are based-- however loosely-- on ones that already exist, so do not think twice to adopt this approach. If it makes people's lives easier, then it will offer, so constantly keep an eye out for products that could be enhanced.

You can also find out more advice by check InventHelp gets great inventions from the mind to the market

5. Exploit Trends and also Technologies

Normally, if something is preferred, after that there will constantly be people all set to make a quick buck off it; from the sculpture vendors permanently camped outside the Eiffel Tower to the many knock-off merchants of popular film franchise business (truthfully, how many unlicensed Harry Potter cups does the world need?), there's constantly a sharp service mind seeking to swoop.

While in principle there's absolutely nothing wrong with piggybacking on fads, attempt instead to focus on creating something lasting, significant, and also, well, lawful. After all, the issue with fads is that, ultimately, they die out, so if you wish to earn money long-term, you'll require to be slightly a lot more nuanced. Take WhatsApp cofounder Jan Koum, for example, who noticed the rewarding potential of Apple's fledgling application store to launch a service that has a life beyond its origins.

Always keep abreast of modern technology growths as well as preserve a finger on the pulse of what is about to come to be popular, as there will certainly be money to be made on the right type of item.

6. Focus on Your Toughness

When thinking of an item, it's vital to dream large however additionally be practical; it's going to be exceptionally hard to resolve the melting polar ice cap issue if you have no expertise in environmental science.

This is why you need to try to focus your energy on what you're good at. What is your location of proficiency? Are you a good developer? Or are you better with your hands? Put in the time to understand what your stamina and also passions are, and afterward turn the imaginative process know itself: instead of matching your skills to trouble, match the issue to your abilities.

You will certainly discover it much less complicated to develop as well as develop items if you have a mutual understanding of what you're attempting to attain, so check out where you are best positioned to identify an opportunity. also get help with inventions

7. Learn from Others

As increasingly more regular Joes and Janes start right into entrepreneurship, individuals are becoming progressively inspired to chance their arm in the business globe; a byproduct of this is that there's a wealth of info offered in books as well as podcasts, as well as online, regarding just how these resourceful people were originally motivated in the first place.

What was their assumed process in creating their product? While these details won't directly illuminate a lightbulb over your head, it may modify your thought process as well as a mindset in the direction of generating suggestions, which could, in turn, lead to the seeds of something unique.

Keep in mind: one basic suggestion or piece of guidance could be all it requires to alter your frame of mind as well as establish you on your way, so immerse on your own in the entrepreneurial globe and remain available to the recommendations of others that have achieved success.

[enm-enthusiast]

Jaime’s Revenge Part I - Payback Time for Thomas

This is a sequel to my previous series, Jaime’s Humiliation, who was stripped, humiliated and blackmailed by his three tormentors, and now that he’s free, he’s back for revenge, starting with Collin’s friend.....Thomas. 

The time had come. Jaime had finally put all the pieces in place after his last ordeal at the hands of Alice and her friends, Cody was still unaware that the evidence he had over him was now gone, and Colin too since spring break had ended and our parents returned home. Cody was preparing to go back home, but before he did Jaime had quite the surprise in store for him….Soon, he thought to himself, but first he had his brother Colin and his little punk friend Thomas to deal with first. After talking to his friends Sebastian and Toby of his revenge plans, they had convinced him to go easier on poor Thomas, who’s comeuppance would come in just a few short hours. In their first week back, he had studied Thomas’ schedule, and learned that he took an afternoon jog through the neighborhood after soccer practice before going home, and decided that was his opportunity to catch Thomas alone and off guard.  

Jaime sat in his car by the side of the soccer field, watching and waiting for Thomas to finish up practice, and while he did, he went over in his mind how he was going to punish Thomas for helping in his humiliation, though had to admit the kid did have a crush on him and had they been in the other’s shoes, Jaime might have done the same. Alice had been very disappointed she didn’t get to participate in Thomas’s punishment, but as Jaime told her she wouldn’t get much “fun” out of him anyways as he was gay. In Jaime’s reverie he almost missed the sight of the lean but buff figure of Thomas leaving the soccer field dressed in his jogging clothes...which he would soon be deprived of. “It’s time” he said to his friends in the back, Toby and Sebastian, the former a fellow football player and best friend, his long shaggy blonde hair stretched almost past his neck. Sebastian was a tall and muscled man with short black hair, he was a quiet guy but no less a good friend, which is why he immediately agreed to help him get payback for what those three had done to him. Jaime also couldn’t help but notice a lustful glance in Sebastian’s eye, as he gazed at Thomas with a look of both pure venom and also anticipation...perhaps he couldn’t wait for what they were about to do? Doesn’t matter, he’ll do his part Jaime thought to himself as he started up his car and slowly went down the same road Thomas started his jog at.  

“Remember the plan?” Jaime asked the two in the back, Toby gave him a sly smile and said “Don’t worry Jaime, we got it, the little brat won’t know what hit him by the time we’re through” he said, nudging Sebastian as if waiting for him to agree. He didn’t respond, instead he only gave a slight nod as he kept his gaze on Thomas, and Jaime looked in his eyes and saw something he decided he would deal with later. “Make sure to get plenty of pictures” Jaime smiled as handed Toby his phone. “With pleasure” he replied, as they neared Thomas’ location, he sped up the car a bit, and a bit further after that until they had just passed him and quickly stopped at the side of the road. Jaime unlocked the car doors as Thomas neared the car, then turned to his friends and said “get him” and upon that they jumped out the car doors and headed straight for Thomas who by this point still hadn’t noticed them as he had earphones in but upon Toby and Sebastian rushing up to and each seizing one of his arms he was quite alarmed, but noticed too late as they had too strong a grip on him, covering his mouth and dragging him over to the car. 

Sebastian quickly opened the door and hissed in Thomas’ ear, “Get in” and despite his panic he did as he was told and climbed into the backseat. As soon as he saw Jaime, his face paled and looked at each of his sides and found himself put between both Toby and Sebastian. Jaime restarted the car and drove off, and after a few minutes of silence it was Thomas who spoke first, “J-j-Jaime?, I-i-I’m sure you're probably mad about the part I played with Colin and Cody, but-please just let me go, I promise I won’t ever do anything like that again” he stammered out. “Oh don’t worry, we’re gonna let you go-” Toby started to say and a glimmer of hope dawned on Thomas’ face “-that is after Jaime here gets some payback” Toby finished. Realization dawned on Thomas’ face, and looked pleadingly at the three around him, but found no salvation in the resolve in their faces.  

“Get ready Toby, I wanna have some good keepsakes for after we’re done” Jaime said, and Thomas looked between them, fear written plainly across his face. “We’re not gonna hurt you little Thomas, we’re just gonna have some fun is all, and to make sure you don’t tell my brother or cousin about this we decided to take a few pictures…” Jaime said. He let that sink in for a few moments before he turned to both Toby and Sebastian and said “bind him”. Upon his command, they seized Thomas, holding his arms and legs in place while Toby pulled out some rope and started to bind his legs together while Sebastian pulled out a pair of handcuffs and bound his hands together behind his back.  

Thomas tried to fight but he was no match for the both of them, and soon found himself completely at their mercy as they bound his arms and legs together. With him secured and fastened, Jaime, feeling immensely satisfied thus far, looked back at his two friends again and said “strip him”. Sebastian practically pounced, he went straight for Thomas’ tank top, who ripped it straight off him with ease, while Toby went for his white undershirt, who started to rip it off until Sebastian gave him a hand and they both seized it at the same time, pulled and ripped it straight off him leaving his bare torso exposed. Jaime had to admit, Thomas was quite buff, his highly defined abs and muscled torso sparked a hint of lust in him too, and he could feel his cock twitching in his pants...but not now, focus he thought to himself as Sebastian and Toby gazed down to his shorts and noticed his bulge, making his pale face turn beat red. They undid his belt and slid his shorts right down his legs and off of his feet, leaving him in just his white briefs. But the most surprising part...was that Thomas was hard, fully hard. As the three gazed at his six and a half inch boner, Thomas turned a deeper shade of red as he found himself exposed and humiliated, which only deepened when Toby began to take pictures of him bound, helpless, and with a hardon.   

While Jaime drove on, Toby took tons of pictures while Sebastian just stared at his boner, and Thomas turned his head away in shame and embarrassment, but Jaime also could see a hint of excitement in his eyes as he turned away. “Go ahead Seb, I know you want to” Jaime said, and Sebastian whipped his head at him in shock, but quickly recovered and moved his right hand closer to and eventually reached Thomas’s barely concealed cock, the contact made Thomas whip his head forward but also let out a small moan as Sebastian fondled his bulge. He continued for a good while, then removed his hand and all three of them saw a huge precum stain where the head of his cock was. Thomas looked disappointed as Sebastian stopped, but turned a deep shade of red as he noticed his own precum stain.  

Then both Sebastian and Toby reached for the hem of his briefs, and slowly but surely started to tease their way down his legs. First came his treasure trail down to his strands of pubic hair, then they moved past his crotch, revealing his six ½ inch cock and balls, then slid them off his legs too, leaving him completely naked. Sebastian’s eyes flickered with excitement as he gazed at his fully hard cock, and Toby took more pictures which made Thomas hang his head down in shame. “Why Thomas, don’t be so down, try to have some fun with it” Jaime said as he gave Sebastian a knowing look, who nodded his understanding before grabbing a firm hold of Thomas’ cock, and upon contact Thomas gasped as he felt his cock get jerked by Sebastian, and his expressions were a mix of excitement and embarrassment. My my, it seems he’s discovering the exhibitionist in him Jaime thought to himself, and he gazed down at his own hard cock and thought, I might have more fun with him in the future then.  

As Sebastian continued to pump his cock with his right hand, his left began to fondle his low hanging balls, which made Thomas bite his lip, a sign that he was in pure heaven and hell at the same time as Toby, smiling as he both filmed and shot pictures of Thomas bound, naked, and having his cock jerked by Sebastian. He’s enjoying this too much I think, time to kick things up a notch Jaime thought to himself. “Toby, Seb, flip him over” Jaime said, and Sebastian stopped jerking his cock and helped Toby flip him over onto his stomach, exposing his entire backside to the. Toby took more pictures while Sebastian gazed at Thomas’ surprising bubble butt. ‘W-w-what are you going to do?” Thomas asked fearfully, and asked Toby to start recording before saying  “just some fun, and some well deserved payback, see, you’ve been a bad boy now haven’t you Thomas? And now you must be punished accordingly” he said. “P-please Jaime, don’t, I beg you” he said. “I’ll stop when you admit you’ve been  a bad boy and deserve your punishment, then I’ll maybe even reward you” Jaime said. 

“Spank him” he said to Sebastian, who gleefully grabbed a handful of his bubble butt before giving at first a light spank on his left ass cheek, making Thomas give off a light yelp in response, then slapped a little harder, and harder before all three of them could see his left ass cheek was bright red. Sebastian then moved to his other cheek, spanking his ass continually until it too was red. Meanwhile, Toby filmed the whole thing and Jaime occasionally glanced back as he drived, and Thomas let out a small yelp after each slap, but just before today Jaime made sure to tell both of them not to harm Thomas too much, spanking was as far as they would go he warned them. “Alright, that’s enough Seb” Jaime said, and he immediately stopped and waited for his next command. “Well?” he said to Thomas, and from where he was he could hear him say “I-i-I’ve been a bad boy, and this is my punishment” he muttered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear all that, let’s clear things up shall we? Flip him back over boys” he said and they flipped Thomas back over and sat him back down on the seat. “Now, please repeat to all here that are present please” Jaime said, a devilish smile on his face. Thomas, beet red with humiliation said “I’ve been a very bad boy, and this is my rightful punishment” he said. 

Satisfied, Jaime nodded to Toby to stop recording and said “thank you Thomas, it means a lot to hear that, now as for your reward….I think it’s time we made you cum, go ahead Seb” he finished, and Thomas had to time to react as Sebastian once again reached for his still hard cock, and started pumping away like there was no tomorrow while also fondling his balls. He resisted at first, but Thomas couldn’t help himself, he started to moan out loud and he could see that he was enjoying every second of Sebastian jerking his cock so expertly. Sebastian looked very pleased, and couldn’t take his eyes off Thomas as he pumped his cock, and Toby just sat and smiled as Thomas was getting milked. Before long, he could hear Thomas’s moans shorten and his body tightened as Jaime knew he was about to cum, and Thomas flipped his head back in ecstasy and gave off a soft “f***” as he shot his load all over himself, and Sebastian made sure to squeeze every drop possible out. Toby took one last picture as Jaime parked at the side of a street, about half a mile from Thomas’ house, then handed his phone back to him. Jaime, feeling immensely satisfied at having taken the first big step in his revenge, said “you can go ahead and let him go now guys”. 

Toby undid the bindings on his legs, while Sebastian unlocked his handcuffs, while Thomas sat there, still processing what had just happened to him. He looks very embarrassed and humiliated, but also very….pleased with himself. I will definitely have some more fun with you later, and I’m sure Sebastian will too, Jaime thought to himself as he looked back and saw Sebastian continue to hold his gaze at Thomas’s naked body. When he finally recovered, Thomas looked at Jaime and asked “uhhh, Jaime? Can I have my clothes back please?” he said, and while he had already decided how he was going to handle this he put on a look of deep thought for a good moment before saying, “hmmmm, guys, give him his briefs back, but don’t let him keep anything else, and don’t worry Thomas, your not far from home, you’ll most likely get back without being spotted, but you better hurry before you do” he said. “Oh and before you go, I had Toby here take lots of pictures and videos here, and don’t worry I won’t share them...as long as you do as you are told and don’t mention this to Colin” he said, a dark look on his face. Despite his pale look he didn’t object as Sebastian handed him back his briefs, which were still stained with his cum, put them on and as soon as he exited the car made a mad dash in the direction of his house. Sebastian spoke up and said “You know, this was pretty fun...maybe we should do this with him again sometime? He said, a sparkle in his eye. Jaime laughed and said “Maybe, but for now...we have one down, and two to go”. 

[neurosengarten]

• Learn how to learn from those you disagree with, or even offend you. See if you can find the truth in what they believe.

• Being enthusiastic is worth 25 IQ points.

• Always demand a deadline. A deadline weeds out the extraneous and the ordinary. It prevents you from trying to make it perfect, so you have to make it different. Different is better.

• Don’t be afraid to ask a question that may sound stupid because 99% of the time everyone else is thinking of the same question and is too embarrassed to ask it.

• Being able to listen well is a superpower. While listening to someone you love keep asking them “Is there more?”, until there is no more.

• A worthy goal for a year is to learn enough about a subject so that you can’t believe how ignorant you were a year earlier.

• Gratitude will unlock all other virtues and is something you can get better at.

• Treating a person to a meal never fails, and is so easy to do. It’s powerful with old friends and a great way to make new friends.

• Don’t trust all-purpose glue.

• Reading to your children regularly will bond you together and kickstart their imaginations.

• Never use a credit card for credit. The only kind of credit, or debt, that is acceptable is debt to acquire something whose exchange value is extremely likely to increase, like in a home. The exchange value of most things diminishes or vanishes the moment you purchase them. Don’t be in debt to losers.

• Pros are just amateurs who know how to gracefully recover from their mistakes.

• Extraordinary claims should require extraordinary evidence to be believed.

• Don’t be the smartest person in the room. Hangout with, and learn from, people smarter than yourself. Even better, find smart people who will disagree with you.

• Rule of 3 in conversation. To get to the real reason, ask a person to go deeper than what they just said. Then again, and once more. The third time’s answer is close to the truth.

• Don’t be the best. Be the only.

• Everyone is shy. Other people are waiting for you to introduce yourself to them, they are waiting for you to send them an email, they are waiting for you to ask them on a date. Go ahead.

• Don’t take it personally when someone turns you down. Assume they are like you: busy, occupied, distracted. Try again later. It’s amazing how often a second try works.

• The purpose of a habit is to remove that action from self-negotiation. You no longer expend energy deciding whether to do it. You just do it. Good habits can range from telling the truth, to flossing.

• Promptness is a sign of respect.

• When you are young spend at least 6 months to one year living as poor as you can, owning as little as you possibly can, eating beans and rice in a tiny room or tent, to experience what your “worst” lifestyle might be. That way any time you have to risk something in the future you won’t be afraid of the worst case scenario.

• Trust me: There is no “them”.

• The more you are interested in others, the more interesting they find you. To be interesting, be interested.

• Optimize your generosity. No one on their deathbed has ever regretted giving too much away.

• To make something good, just do it. To make something great, just re-do it, re-do it, re-do it. The secret to making fine things is in remaking them.

• The Golden Rule will never fail you. It is the foundation of all other virtues.

• If you are looking for something in your house, and you finally find it, when you’re done with it, don’t put it back where you found it. Put it back where you first looked for it.

• Saving money and investing money are both good habits. Small amounts of money invested regularly for many decades without deliberation is one path to wealth.

• To make mistakes is human. To own your mistakes is divine. Nothing elevates a person higher than quickly admitting and taking personal responsibility for the mistakes you make and then fixing them fairly. If you mess up, fess up. It’s astounding how powerful this ownership is.

• Never get involved in a land war in Asia.

• You can obsess about serving your customers/audience/clients, or you can obsess about beating the competition. Both work, but of the two, obsessing about your customers will take you further.

• Show up. Keep showing up. Somebody successful said: 99% of success is just showing up.

• Separate the processes of creation from improving. You can’t write and edit, or sculpt and polish, or make and analyze at the same time. If you do, the editor stops the creator. While you invent, don’t select. While you sketch, don’t inspect. While you write the first draft, don’t reflect. At the start, the creator mind must be unleashed from judgement.

• If you are not falling down occasionally, you are just coasting.

• Perhaps the most counter-intuitive truth of the universe is that the more you give to others, the more you’ll get. Understanding this is the beginning of wisdom.

• Friends are better than money. Almost anything money can do, friends can do better. In so many ways a friend with a boat is better than owning a boat.

• This is true: It’s hard to cheat an honest man.

• When an object is lost, 95% of the time it is hiding within arm’s reach of where it was last seen. Search in all possible locations in that radius and you’ll find it.

• You are what you do. Not what you say, not what you believe, not how you vote, but what you spend your time on.

• If you lose or forget to bring a cable, adapter or charger, check with your hotel. Most hotels now have a drawer full of cables, adapters and chargers others have left behind, and probably have the one you are missing. You can often claim it after borrowing it.

• Hatred is a curse that does not affect the hated. It only poisons the hater. Release a grudge as if it was a poison.

• There is no limit on better. Talent is distributed unfairly, but there is no limit on how much we can improve what we start with.

• Be prepared: When you are 90% done any large project (a house, a film, an event, an app) the rest of the myriad details will take a second 90% to complete.

• When you die you take absolutely nothing with you except your reputation.

• Before you are old, attend as many funerals as you can bear, and listen. Nobody talks about the departed’s achievements. The only thing people will remember is what kind of person you were while you were achieving.

• For every dollar you spend purchasing something substantial, expect to pay a dollar in repairs, maintenance, or disposal by the end of its life.

•Anything real begins with the fiction of what could be. Imagination is therefore the most potent force in the universe, and a skill you can get better at. It’s the one skill in life that benefits from ignoring what everyone else knows.

• When crisis and disaster strike, don’t waste them. No problems, no progress.

• On vacation go to the most remote place on your itinerary first, bypassing the cities. You’ll maximize the shock of otherness in the remote, and then later you’ll welcome the familiar comforts of a city on the way back.

• When you get an invitation to do something in the future, ask yourself: would you accept this if it was scheduled for tomorrow? Not too many promises will pass that immediacy filter.

• Don’t say anything about someone in email you would not be comfortable saying to them directly, because eventually they will read it.

• If you desperately need a job, you are just another problem for a boss; if you can solve many of the problems the boss has right now, you are hired. To be hired, think like your boss.

• Art is in what you leave out.

• Acquiring things will rarely bring you deep satisfaction. But acquiring experiences will.

• Rule of 7 in research. You can find out anything if you are willing to go seven levels. If the first source you ask doesn’t know, ask them who you should ask next, and so on down the line. If you are willing to go to the 7th source, you’ll almost always get your answer.

• How to apologize: Quickly, specifically, sincerely.

• Don’t ever respond to a solicitation or a proposal on the phone. The urgency is a disguise.

• When someone is nasty, rude, hateful, or mean with you, pretend they have a disease. That makes it easier to have empathy toward them which can soften the conflict.

• Eliminating clutter makes room for your true treasures.

• You really don’t want to be famous. Read the biography of any famous person.

• Experience is overrated. When hiring, hire for aptitude, train for skills. Most really amazing or great things are done by people doing them for the first time.

• A vacation + a disaster = an adventure.

• Buying tools: Start by buying the absolute cheapest tools you can find. Upgrade the ones you use a lot. If you wind up using some tool for a job, buy the very best you can afford.

• Learn how to take a 20-minute power nap without embarrassment.

• Following your bliss is a recipe for paralysis if you don’t know what you are passionate about. A better motto for most youth is “master something, anything”. Through mastery of one thing, you can drift towards extensions of that mastery that bring you more joy, and eventually discover where your bliss is.

• I’m positive that in 100 years much of what I take to be true today will be proved to be wrong, maybe even embarrassingly wrong, and I try really hard to identify what it is that I am wrong about today.

• Over the long term, the future is decided by optimists. To be an optimist you don’t have to ignore all the many problems we create; you just have to imagine improving our capacity to solve problems.

• The universe is conspiring behind your back to make you a success. This will be much easier to do if you embrace this pronoia.

[ks-caster]

Beth Liveblogs Black Widow

Bought that premium access on Disney+ so I can have the privilege of pausing for snacks and using subtitles as needed - so let’s go! 

Beth’s Spoiler-Free Review: Overall I thoroughly enjoyed the movie - the plot was compelling, the characters were likable, and the stunts were really excellent. I felt like hair and makeup dropped the ball on realism multiple times which I was sad about, because how she looks seems to be pretty important to Nat so I expected it to be done well in her movie. 

I did not like the way they framed the tail end (denouement - obviously because this movie is mid-series we know how it ends to an extent) - I felt like the connect-up to Infinity War was lackluster, especially compared to how enjoyable and dynamic the rest of the film was.

Spoilery live-reactions are under the cut. Click at own risk! Feel free to rebagel with your own impressions, thoughts, jokes and rebuttals!

The movie begins with a young Nat with blue dyed hair and visible roots, showing her natural red. Do you know how hard it is to get natural red out of hair, enough to make it blue and not green? And I’m supposed to believe that a middle-school age girl in 1995 Ohio had access to these chemicals? I’ll give her the white hair in IW/Endgame because she’s an adult with a lot of experience as a spy altering her appearance. But as a child? In the 90s? While her family is apparently in hiding? Sus.

The scene with Alexei laying on the on the wing while Nat learns to fly? AMAZING stunts. Amazing. AND someone in an action movie is finally smart enough to shoot the tires.

Nice skills on young Nat, getting the gun. Since we know from Endgame that Nat’s father is named Ivan, we know that Alexei isn’t really her dad. She also refers to presumably the red room as going “back.” Was she lent out to these agents to legitimize their family?

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Nice knife moves, Yelena - I love the hand switch.

Ooooh so she was being mind controlled and the red stuff freed her? Interesting.

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Nat is in Norway - visit Thor! He’d love to have you. (I’m mixing up my timeline, aren’t I?)

Supplies Dude whose name I didn’t catch refers to the Avengers breakup as a divorce - I kinda love it. It’s accurate!

BUDAPEST omg are we finally going to get the story?? Are we??

Box dye? I’m supposed to believe she got all that red out of her hair with flippin’ Loreal? Really? And that toner isn’t even the color she ultimately went - it’s too yellow. Sus.

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Oop, looks like Nat got caught up in Yelena’s desertion.

Do not give Nat your metal frisbee, robocop - she’s been around Steve long enough that she knows how to use it.

I laughed out loud when she did the string him up thing with the cables - literal spider move, I love it!

Mystery box is empty - classic bait and switch.

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BUDAPEST - WE ARE IN BUDAPEST - IT’S HAPPENING PEOPLE

Nat closing the door behind her is a small thing but I appreciate it - no sneaking up behind her.

When Yelena throws Nat in the kitchen and her feet hit the door and she spins before she hits the ground? That was a helluva stunt.

Oooooh honey. No body left to check is ALWAYS movie code for they lived.

Dreykov’s daughter? Another hint from Avengers 2012? C’mon, movie.

Riding the chimney down? Another incredible stunt. 

Dreykov can scan his soldiers’ bodies and terminate them if they’re too damaged to keep fighting? Big yikes. With Nat where she is character development wise, the stakes are now much higher because if she injures an opponent they may be killed remotely.

“Do you want me to chase him down and un-steal it?”

The car door under the bike was an excellent stunt - as was the car going into the subway. Though I’ve never seen a subway entrance big enough to admit a car.

Who hasn’t wanted to slide down the middle to avoid the crowded escalators lol.

Yelena making fun of Nat’s sexy poses I am LIVING omg.

Running water for wounds. RUNNING WATER. NOT ALCOHOL. The vodka goes on the INSIDE for the pain - the running water cleans the OUTSIDE. If there’s a convenience store then there’s a bathroom, with running water. Cleansing with something like alcohol is a LAST RESORT and you do not look like you’re at that point resource-wise. I thought these ladies were supposed to be highly trained in all of the things?

“Could be fun though.” “I saw where he put the keys” “Top drawer green cabinet.” I love their chaos.

Yelena’s vest and its pockets and the resulting conversation are positively majestic.

“You are sensitive.” “You’re a very annoying person.”

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Do! Not! Move! Around! Like! That! While! Getting! A! Tattoo!!!! That poor artist was trying his best and Alexei just...

Ooooh was Red Guardian like Captain Russia? Interesting.

“Just don’t make a scene.” “You made a scene didn’t you.”

David Harbor running up that wall and then wiping out after the guard shocks him... I really loved that stunt, especially since they don’t show him being all super cut - he’s a big guy! He’s allowed to have fat over his muscles and still be a strong dude! I love it.

“Such a poser.” Girl, you need to meet Loki - he does a lot of hair flips too lol.

The sibling energy between the girls during the rescue!!!

“Whooooooa... this would be a cool way to die.” Yelena, I’m not necessarily disagreeing with you but get your head in the game girl.

Poor Alexei - he never gets to do the dramatic escape from *inside* of the aircraft.

Hang on, no ovaries? So all of these women are now in immediate, surgically-induced menopause? The uterus part makes sense if the intent was to prevent them from getting pregnant if they have sex during a mission, but, what, they gotta be on estrogen supplements for the rest of their lives? That’s just really poor planning. Like it was hilarious the way Yelena went into the biology of it to make Alexei uncomfortable, but that really doesn’t make sense to do to your superhero kids. It’s just bad science.

Love that Yelena keeps her vest even after she changes into her matching white flight suit. That vest better make it to the end of the movie.

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“Honey, we’re home.” I 100% expected her to shoot him on sight tbh. it would have been funny.

Alexei squeezing into the uniform is such a post-pandemic feel. Also all of the fancy braids at that table; I see where Natasha got her propensity for them.

Animal cruelty warning, ugh. Poor piggy Alexei.

Oooh the photo album and Natasha remembered staging the pictures; they’re emotional for her but in a different way.

I wonder if robocop’s shield is actually Alexei’s.

The singing between Alexei and Yelena was a really beautiful moment because it was neither auto-tuned-good nor hilariously bad - it felt really real, especially the way Yelena’s so choked up she can barely make sounds come out.

Uh-oh, mama has one of those monitor your vitals and kill your ass suits. The suits I understand - the eyeliner though... when and why did she do her makeup?? That’s not really the thing that comes to mind for me when I’m getting ready to do something athletic, like say kidnapping my supersoldier fake family.

“This is a much less cool way to die.” Also WTF why would they do that. Wouldn’t it be easier to get the information out of her while her brain is still attached to, y’know, her mouth??

CLEVER CLEVER CLEVER they switched outfits and faces ooooooh like mother like daughter.

The door opening as Alexei is leaning against it dramatically bahahahaha

I love the plan. I’m thoroughly weirded out that Melina has a red wig just lying around that perfectly immitates Natasha though. 

“Yelena, it’s mama. You have a two-inch blade in your belt.”

Oh. My. God.

Antonia.

A pheromone lock preventing them from hurting them if they’re close enough to smell him - I like it. It’s clever and new.

Bahahaha poser! You posed I saw you! Still love the vest.

Natasha is really good at manipulating people’s emotions to get what she wants - I mean, scary good. So if she’s provoking Dreykov into beating her up, there’s a reason. 

“Using the only resource the world has too much of - girls.” Kill him. 

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When I say I whooped out loud... SEVERING THE NERVE. Thank you for your cooperation. YAAAAAAS QUEEN.

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“Slight change of plans - we are going into a controlled crash.” The way she said that was just so mom-like omg!

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The grenade as a delivery system was super smart - but yikes what if she’d mistimed it and blew Natasha up? Also, after the beating she took and how hard she had to wack her own face into the desk to sever her olfactory nerve and the amout of blood we saw her leave behind from doing that, her face should be a LOT more messed up, come on makeup department.

“Get as far away from here as possible.” And then keep going because General I-Collect-Supersoldiers-Like-Stamps Ross is about to turn up at your location looking for trouble and he’d snap you ladies up like there’s a fire sale and you’re going out of stock.

This crash doesn’t look all that controlled, Melina. I’m starting to suspect that most of the widows won’t live long enough to make their own decisions...

All of the aerial stunts were amaaaaaazing - the way Nat slowed herself by sliding down the panels so Antonia could catch up with her and she could deploy her parachute... 

The vest survived the movie!!!

Fuuuuuck Ross is showing up and he sucks and I hate him and I’m super worried that he’s gonna take the vest from Nat if he takes her into custody. Please don’t let her lose the vest. 

Okay, there is now zero reason for Nat to stay behind. They have an aircraft. She had plenty of time to just board it and leave?

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Okay okay okay Ross did not get her and did not take the vest. But am I supposed to believe she bleached her hair, toned it blonde, and then re-bleached and re-toned it to silver? Who does that? That would be terrible for her hair. Her scalp would be burned all to hell from the amount of chemicals needed to not only get all that red out but THEN get the blonde toner out. Y’know what color silver toner is? Blue/purple. Y’know what happens when you mix that with yellow? Green. And not a nice green either (I speak from experience). No. Her hair at the end of the movie? Cancelled. 

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SHE GOT THE DOG!!!

Oh, ouch. Big ouch. I hurt like a lot now. This is so not an okay way to end the -

...

Countess I-Forgot-Your-Name-Already?

Oh no. Oh no. That’s worse. That’s a lot worse. We are now setting up the Hawkeye series and I while I’m horrified that this was how they ended the film, I gotta say that’s going to make for some wonderful angst in that series on both Clint and Yelena’s parts and I am here for it!

OVERALL IMPRESSION

I really, really enjoyed this movie, I thought the story was compelling, the stunts were really excellent, and I liked the character dynamics and the twist

I did not like the ending - it just sort of fell off quickly and didn’t feel satisfying after an otherwise really fun movie. I also take issue with the hair and makeup as shown among the characters, as seen in my several rants to that effect.

I would have liked to have seen a few more childhood/training flashbacks, and absolutely would have loved a cameo from Jeremy Renner (not just his voice) and to see him and Nat meeting and him giving her the whole dad speech that he does so well - bonus points if she could have then quoted him to Yelena or Antonia, showing the way that multiple people had a formative effect on her (an answer to the “The Avengers aren’t really your family either” comment).