#anyways my creative introduction went great!!! i have what some would call friends now :]

[astro-inthestars]

pfft-

OKAY YOU GUYS ARE JUST MESSING WITH ME AT THIS POINTFDHASGHKKF

[watchtheworld-burn]

YANDERE! PRINCE

Yandere! Prince x Male! Reader

He/him pronouns for reader

He/him pronouns for the prince (his name is Elias.)

Note: After reading this check the comments 😉

MY BODYGUARD

It was a sunny day, You were walking into a room looking for your boss Clayton. I'm gonna be totally honest you were not a bodyguard, You are a hitman or an assassin. You had a new target today at least that's what your boss told you, Clayton's room was far away so while you were walking towards his room. I'll tell you more information about yourself. 

You were the most known assassin in the country, You were known for the most brutal murders yet the most creative ways to assassinate someone. A lot of people wanted you to kill some people like their fake friends, bullies, ex husbands/boyfriend or ex wives/girlfriends, etc. Since you were the most dangerous assassin you got a lot of money in return.   

Why did you wanna kill in the first place anyway? Trauma? Haha hilarious, You had a great life actually great parents, amazing grades, supportive friends. What made you want to kill in the first place? Revenge. You found out that your friends left you because someone blackmailed them when you found out you were so frustrated you accidentally murdered them. After that incident killing felt so good so you started killing people, Not innocent people obviously. You killed like pedophiles, rapists, zoophiles, people who body shame people, sexist people, etc. 

You're a killer not a monster. Okay now that we're done for introductions let's go back to the story! You knocked at Clayton's door. "Come in." You heard a deep yet raspy voice say. You opened the door and walked inside. "Who's my target this time boss?" You asked Clayton while standing up straight, You also noticed that Clayton seemed tired like he just woke up. "M/N, come here." He said and patted the seat beside him. You gulped and sat beside him. Clayton looked at you and smiled, he then started caressing your cheek with a loving smile. 

"M/N.. You are aware that you're my favourite, No?" He said it seems like he's flirting with you. 'I am?' You thought even though you doubted him you just nodded anyway. "Your next target is the prince. Prince Elias." He told you. Woah, A prince? You never fought anyone of higher status. Maybe the people you killed weren't worthy of such status. "Sir, Why do I need to kill this guy? I hope that you are aware that I only kill like evil guys right?" You said to the muscular man. "Oh, I am aware I want you to kill him because recently there were rumours of him abducting children or even killing them for fun." The boss said. 

"Rumours? Sir, that isn't even accurate information." You said getting irritated. "Hm, you are correct. Let's make a deal. If the rumours are true then I want you to kill this guy on June 30, but if the rumours aren't true you can choose to not kill him. Don't worry even if you don't kill him you will still be paid greatly." Clayton said.

"How much?" You asked, then Clayton smirked. 

THE NEXT DAY

You went to the prince's castle to 'kill' the prince, To kill him you have to at least get close to him then boom! If the rumours were actually true then you have to kill the guy but this time you had no idea how to kill him. So maybe just kill him the simplest way? Like stab him or shoot him? Wait no, If I shoot him that would be way too loud. Ugh, What happened to my creativity? 

You were inside the castle and you saw the guy. Now what were you doing? Trying to be a bodyguard is like getting a job. "Good Afternoon, M/N L/N." The man said. You nodded at him and sat down. You gave your hand to him motioning a handshake and he shook your hand. "Good Afternoon Sir, Nice to meet you. I am M/N L/N, I am 22 years old. My hobbies are reading and sometimes I write stories." You introduced yourself to him. The man looked at you weirdly. 'Why does a reader want to be a bodyguard?' The man thought. 

"You can call me Mr. David, and why do you want to become a bodyguard? No offense but you are a reader and writer, No?" David asked you. "I want to become a bodyguard because I had a friend who died. I wanted to save them but sadly I was busy and after that Incident I always wanted to protect someone, and the prince I am sure that he is always in danger. The thing about the prince is that he reminds me of my friend." You lied. "Well did you train?" David asked. "3 years and 6 months." You lied again and smiled at David. 

David looked at your eyes to see any sign of a lie, he didn't find any. Lucky for you with your acting skills, You were great at concealing your emotions. "C'mon kid, Let's get going." David said and he motioned for you to follow him. You nodded at him and followed him. "Let's test your strength, kid." David said and looked at you like he was challenging you. 

A FEW HOURS LATER

After David saw what you can do he hired you and told you that you'll be starting tomorrow. That was enough time to prepare. 

M/N was having a reoccurring dream. It was him waking up to someone with a smirk and he said something but you didn't hear anything. It was normal for you to have weird dreams but you never had a reoccurring dream that happened 9 times. Then you heard someone screaming at you to wake up. You woke up and stopped your alarm. Then layed down again. 'Why do I have to wake up so early? Give me a rest.' you thought. 5 minutes later you decided to prepare.  

While you were changing your clothes you hummed a familiar tune, You don't know why but you heard that from your dream it just kinda was playing in the background. After you were done changing, You looked at the information that Clayton sent you. 'Damn, He's fine for a prince. Then again the stereotypical princes are always hot.'  If you were honest you never expected an actual prince to exist. 

You then walked to the castle and attempted to find the prince. You never really knew how to act like a bodyguard 'I think I have to protect him? Yeah, Protect him.' while you were walking you got confused, the castle was so big you could easily get lost. You then saw a butler, You walked towards him and tapped his shoulder and the butler turned around. "Is there anything you want sir?" The butler asked. "Um, do you know where prince Elias's room is?" You asked the butler, You were so nervous. You were kinda used to knowing where your target is. 

"His room is upstairs and turn left, You'll see a room with the young master's name card." The butler answered you. "Thank you so much sir!" You exclaimed and waved him goodbye going to the prince's  room. After the long flight of stairs you finally found his room. You fixed your suit a bit and knocked on his door. "Kyle, didn't I say that I don't need any new bodyguards? They're all useless… Woah, Who is this cutie?" You finally saw the almighty Elias, but what does he mean 'New bodyguards'? He used to have a lot of bodyguards? Wait a second did he just say cutie? 

"Um, Good Day young master, My name is M/N L/N your new bodyguard." You introduced yourself with a smile. "Oh, no need to call me young master." He said while pulling your tie with a smirk. "Wait, how old are you?" The prince asked. "23 sir. How about you?" You responded with a gentle tone. "18." He said but this time he pulled your body close to his. '18? I feel so old.' you thought and pulled yourself away from the prince, much to his dismay.  

"Say, Are you single or taken?" The prince flirted. "Um, Single?" You responded to his question. After you said that the prince faced back to his room and made a 'I have a chance pose'. 'What the hell is happening.' You thought. "My, am I lucky. Men or Women?" He asked one last time. "Gender doesn't matter to me." You said with a smile, by the way you weren't lying when you answered all his questions. The prince then licked his lips in a flirty way. 

“Tell me more about yourself.” The prince flirted again, You didn’t get what he saw in you. You wouldn’t exactly label yourself attractive or cute, or you just had a small self-esteem. Then again you remembered that you had a target you had to kill and when he found out that you were gonna kill him, he didn’t mind before you stabbed him he asked to marry you. You were a very compassionate person so you made him die in a fast and unpainful way. 

“I don’t know your highness, but I think I’m not that interesting.” You said with a nervous smile. “No need to be formal baby, Just call me Elias or darling, love, bae-” He then went on about you calling him endearing names. “Those names are kinda cringe but mi amor, mi vida, and mahal sounds more lovely.” You muttered under your breath unfortunate for you the prince heard it. “What does ‘mahal’ mean? I already know the other two but not the last one.” He said, wow he seems really interested in this conversation. “Mahal means love in tagalog.” You informed him. “Ooh, a trilingual bodyguard. I like you already.” After he said that he pulled you to his bedroom. 

After a month the prince always seems to be clinging to you. There was never a time where he wasn’t seen with you. So I'll put some random moments between you and the prince to show chemistry between you 2. 

"Hey, Elias. Say when's your birthday?" You asked the prince while he was eating. Before the prince responded he swallowed the food he ate. "June 2, why do you ask?" The prince responded and asked you then started eating again. "Oh nothing, I thought your birthday was in December or September." You replied to him. After you said that the prince was done eating, he took a tissue and wiped his face. "What about you M/N? When's your birthday?" He asked you while looking at you. "November 15." You lied. 

The prince couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "So your parents made you on February 15?" The prince said with a smirk. "Yes, I can't help but think I'm a mistake." You said in a joking tone but the prince took it quite seriously. 

Time skip

"Good Afternoon, your highness. Here is your breakfast that your father sent for." You greeted him and gave the food to him with a smile. These past weeks you've acted more like a butler than a bodyguard. "Thanks M/N, but no need for formalities. We are friends, No?" He said with a sleepy tone. You nodded with a smile. Man he trusts people so easily. 

"By the way, Elias. Do you have a fiancéé?" You asked him out of curiosity, and Elias accidentally spat out his drink out of shock. "A fiancéé? Nonsense, I don't have time for women." He said as if having a fiancéé was offensive to him. "I'm sorry I asked, it just seems like a guy like you has a fiancéé. I mean you are popular with the women here right?" You apologized. "I am popular with the women but they don't interest me. It's so obvious that they only want fame and money. But if they don’t want that they either want me for my looks. I highly doubt they want me for my personality. All I literally do is wave at them.” he ranted and continued eating. ‘Sad life, I guess? If doesn’t get women he could just get men.’ you thought and let the prince eat his breakfast. 

Time skip 

“Hey, M/N!” The clingy prince called you while running towards you. When he finally was close to you he was panting and he waited for a few seconds so that he could finally talk properly. “You do know that bodyguards are always close to their masters right?” He complained. “Oh, sorry. I zoned out.” you said with no care. ‘Sorry bro, I was too busy to think of ways to kill you.’ Thankfully while you guys were close you got hints of him abducting children. 1 more hint and you can kill the guy. “Anyways, Do you want to watch a movie with me?" He asked you with sparkles in his eyes. 

"Of course." You said. 'I mean like I have no choice so whatever, I do like movies so no regrets.' you thought if you can't tell you were bored of this guy. "Yay!" He jumped like a kid. He then dragged you to the movie room. "What movie are we watching?" You asked him. "Enemies." He said. "What's that?" You asked, you never heard it then again you stopped looking at social media because you had to look out for this guy. 

"Basically it's a movie between this hero and villain and slowly they fall in love." He told you. "Is it a boy's love movie?" You asked, and the boy slowly nodded. "Are you gay?" You said and looked weirdly at him. Don't worry you aren't homophobic, You're pansexual after all. "Um, N-No! I just find the plot interesting after all." He lied and crossed his hands while puffing. "Okay.." You said and you looked like this 🤨. 

40 minutes later in the movie (also the movie isn't real, it's just a movie I came up with to fit the story.) 

You and Elias cried while hugging each other. The movie was so emotional and entertaining, the plot was also very creative. It was so beautiful and majestic. "I'm tired of this, all I wanted to do was just make my family proud." The villain said to himself while crying and looking at the pond. He didn't notice the main character was there hearing everything, making him feel pitiful for the villain. He then walked to the villain. 

"Want to talk about it?" He offered the villain while lending his hand to him. "No! Get away from me! All you're gonna do is take me to prison with no empathy." He yelled. "I won't besides, I love you too much for that." The hero said with a blush. "Huh?! Are you saying you like me?" The villain said backing away from him. "Of course, I am." The hero replied with no hesitation. The villain's heart started beating and he felt butterflies in his stomach. The villain was so red. This feeling felt familiar. 

Ah yes he felt this when prom started in high school and he saw someone similar like the hero dancing. Wait a second. "Did you used to go to 'Angelica's learning center?" The villain asked him. "Yes, why?" The hero responded. "Felix?" The villain blurted out of nowhere. "Ray?" The hero said with a smile. They used to have a crush on each other, after graduation they wanted to confess but Ray left immediately letting his parents plan his whole life.

The two hugged each other and kissed. "AAAHHH!!" You and Elias screamed out of joy. Then after a few minutes the movie ended. You both started talking about the movie. You guys also relate to the main characters. You relate to Ray because you always wanted to make your parents proud and whenever you wanted something you always waited until someone took it out of your grasp. You always waited.

Elias related to Felix, his parents always controlled him, sometimes his friends controlled his life. There was never a time where he controlled his own life. He was also known as the 'Golden' child, but it was all a facade. It's like his life is meant to be for his parents. 

Time skip

Elias got out of his father's room. These past few days you always noticed that Elias was like a puppet to his parents. "What did your father want this time?" You asked him. "He wants me to marry a woman." he replied and you two went to his room. Elias laid down and you sat beside him. "You don't want to marry a woman, right?" You said. "Yes, so what are you gonna do? Scold me?" He complained and faced the other way. After he said that you laughed. "No, I'm not going to scold you. If you don't want to marry someone, that's fine." You stated.

"Besides, what's the point if you marry someone you don't love? That seems like a waste of time. Talking about love, do you have a crush on someone?" You asked. "Yeah, I do," he replied. "Do you wanna marry them?" You asked him again. He nodded. "Then go." you told him. Then Elias sat up. "What do you mean go?" He asked you but he seemed irritated as if you took this whole conversation as a joke. "Go marry them or date them first, wait a few years then marry them." You said giving the boy advice. Elias rolled his eyes and laid back down.

"It isn't that easy. My father won't approve of it." Elias said like he lost hope. "Who cares about what your father thinks? If he actually loves you he wouldn't control you and let you marry someone you have never met." You said with no care. "You take that back." Elias demanded and in a flash you guys were close to each other. "You can't deny that I'm right." You said and smirked. Elias had nothing to say. "If you really love them, you have to stand up to your father, then maybe control your own life, maybe then you can marry them." You informed him. Then you heard someone call you, likely being David. You stood up and got out of the room leaving Elias speechless.

Elias touched his heart, it was beating and he felt butterflies in his stomach. 'Is this what true love feels like?' He laid down again. "Maybe M/N is right, I should control my own life, not my father." He muttered and smiled. 'Thank you, M/N.' After a few minutes he slept. 

ON MAY 30

You were exploring the mansion despite you living here for a few months you weren’t exactly used to it. You then heard someone talk, you walked towards it and listened. “How many did you get?”

“10 girls, 5 boys.”

“Good.”

“But master, what are we gonna do with them?” 

“Make them slaves of course. Then when they turn 15 we will sell them or their body parts. Also about Eli’s improvement, how many did he get the past few months?”

“20 children sir.”

You then heard the old man laugh.

“Where did you put them?” 

“In the basement sir.” 

You stopped listening to that conversation and it was very sickening to hear. After hearing all the information you needed you ran to the basement. You finally found it and then saw a passcode. You inputted 73584, It opened. You saw a lot of kids, there were 35 kids. You gasped and ran to them. When the children saw you they backed away from you. 

You assured them that you were on their side and asked them if there were any kids left. They didn’t answer. Then a kid said, “Hey guys we’re safe, that's the guy who kills bad people, he’s here to save us!” Then a kid disagreed with him and said, “How can you be so sure?” The kid replied with. “He has a [Hair color] and [eye color], they also have the same height as them.” after they said that they all trusted you and gave you the information they knew. 

After that you told them to go to Grace field [no pun intended] and they left safely. “Now there’s one last thing I need to do.” You said. 

ON JUNE 1 

You and Elias were in the kitchen teaching him how to make a cake since he asked you. You have to kill him. But it seemed impossible you got quite attached to him. “Like this M/N?” He asked, making you come back to reality. “Yeah, like that.” you said. Then Elias started baking not knowing about what’s going to happen.

While he wasn’t looking you took a knife and suddenly Elias turned to you immediately noticing you with a knife. You went towards him with a knife and Elias stopped you right on time.

"What are you doing?!" He exclaimed while stopping you from stabbing him, you then noticed his sad look and that's all it took for you to snap out of it. You made him let go of you when you were out of his reach. He took a bowl most likely to protect himself from you. You remembered all the fun times with him. You looked at your knife then stabbed yourself at your heart immediately coughing out blood. “M/N!” Elias yelled alerting the other servants. 

He picked you up. "Sh, M/N. Don't worry we can do this. Don't give up." He cried. "I Love You." You said your final words and died in his arms. "M/N!!" He yelled and hugged you tightly, and all the servants looked at him pitifully. After that he never left his room thinking about your death every second. Was it his fault? 

1 YEAR LATER

You woke up and saw Elias? "Ah, It worked!" He exclaimed with a happy smile. "Aren't I supposed to be dead?" You asked him. "Yes you are, but I won't let that happen ever again." He said and hugged you. You pushed him off and Elias looked shocked. You ran away from the psychopath and Elias ran after you. 

You then felt a needle in your neck knocking you out. "M/N you can't get away from me ever again. We are meant to be." 

When you woke up he made you make a deal with him with his persuasive techniques you made a deal with him. Then the next thing you know you guys are getting married. "I do." Elias said and smiled at you while holding your hand. "How about you M/N?" The pope asked you. "I do." You said, faking your smile. "You may now kiss the groom." The pope declared and Elias kissed you. "I will love you till my dying days." Elias whispered to you and hugged you like he was showing you off. 

Maybe you should have killed him. 

[skepticalcatfrog]

Aurora High School (Introduction Part Two)

Introduction Part One Introduction Part Two Masterpost

Summary: After starting their junior year in high school, the Jones twins find themselves meeting new people, setting them on a track towards new friendships, new romances, new heartbreaks, and many new adventures.

Pairings: (Eventual) Scarlett Jones x Finian de Seel, Tyler Jones x Saedii Gilwraeth, and Aurora O'Malley x Kaliis Gilwraeth

Word count: 2,964

Author's Notes: Part two! This is going to be the last pre-set plot point for a bit, because requests are officially open! I'm going to elaborate on it in a later post, so look out for that!

Important Author's Notes: This story contains a character who uses a wheelchair. I did do some research, but since I don't experience it, it's virtually impossible for me to be an expert on this topic. If you are more knowledgeable about this than I might be, and you notice an inaccuracy, please let me know what it is and I'll try to fix it!

Scarlett and Tyler walked down the street towards the park, looking around at familiar houses and talking as they did.

"So, who did you invite?" Scarlett asked.

"Well, Cat, as always." Tyler told her. "Plus Aurora, and Kal. His sister's coming too, I said it would be fine if she did."

"When did you have time to get Aurora's number?" Scar kicked a pebble that was resting on the sidewalk.

"Turns out, we have the same gym class. I asked her for it there, because I realized that I forgot to when we did that tour." Tyler quickly explained. He looked at the clock on his phone. It was only three o'clock, meaning that they had at least four or five hours until the sun went down. "Did you invite anyone?"

"Of course. I wouldn't have let you pick the entire guest list." Scarlett shook her head. "I'd think that you'd know me better than that by now, it's been 17 years."

"Well then who did you text?"

"Zila and Finian." Scarlett said matter-of-factly. "Oh, and Cat. In case you forgot to."

"Finian is the kid from the principal's office, right?" Tyler's brows drew together.

"That's the one." Scarlett nodded.

"Are you sure he's not…" Tyler trailed off. Scarlett finished the thought for him.

"Am I sure he's not what? Bad news? A troublemaker?" She raised an eyebrow. "You were in the principal's office too, you know. And I don't hear anyone calling you bad news."

Tyler was quiet after that. He knew she was right. That, and he didn't feel like arguing about it right now. Scar was smart, she would be able to deal with things herself. And hey, maybe he shouldn't judge this guy so quickly. He probably hadn't even done anything too bad.

Ten minutes later, they got to the park. It was a wide open space with paved paths crossing through it, all leading to a wooden gazebo in the center. There was a parking lot on the opposite side with a few cars in it. Trees were scattered along the border of the park, as well as a few within the grassy area. It was a little windy, so the warm colored leaves were bristling in the trees, and the fallen ones were tumbling across the ground.

Tyler and Scarlett walked to the gazebo, where Cat was already sitting on a bench waiting for them. She smiled as she saw them approach.

"Told you I'd get here first, Ty." She teased.

"You're on the track team, it's not my fault you're faster than me." Tyler shot back as he and his sister sat across from her.

"That's no excuse, you're on the football team. Running is a big part of that too." She pointed out. "But anyway, moving on from the topic of who's faster even though it's totally me. What are we going to do today?"

"Well first things first, we're going to wait for the rest of the people we invited to get here." Scarlett gestured to the mostly empty table.

"So it's not just us this time?" Cat's smile faltered for a moment before returning.

"Nope, not just us." Tyler shook his head.

Just as he finished speaking, a car pulled into the parking lot. It was sleek, painted black with white accents. It had a certain look, like it was capable of going insanely fast but it was never really used for that. Kal stepped out of the passenger's seat. From the driver's side door came a girl who was very clearly his sister. They had the same dark hair and eyes, and the same tall and elegant stature. The sister's eyes were lined heavily, and she had black lipstick and nail polish on. The pair strolled over to the gazebo, and while Kal sat down, his sister stood by the edge.

"Tyler, Scarlett." Kal greeted them. "This is my sister, Saedii."

"Great to meet you." Tyler smiled at her.

Saedii held up her hand as a way to tell him to shut up. "Save your breath. I'm only here because my brother needed someone to bring him."

Tyler's smile disappeared completely. It wasn't often that he met someone who seemed that firmly set on not liking him. Scarlett could tell by the look in his eyes that he was definitely going to make it his mission to try and become friends with Kal's sister. But it wouldn't be easy.

"So… what do you guys do for fun?" Scarlett asked, trying to spark a conversation.

"My sister and I both take fencing classes." Kal answered.

"Yes, and I am much more skilled with a sword than he is." Saedii said in a way that sounded both like she was bragging and like she was plotting a murder. "I'm on the wrestling team as well."

"Oh, yeah, I think I might've known that already." Cat smiled, surprised to find an interest that she shared with one of these people she'd just met. "I go to the matches sometimes, just for fun."

"Oh." Saedii seemed equally surprised. "And you… you're on the track team, correct?"

"Damn right I am!" Cat nodded proudly. "I'm the fastest one on the team, too."

"I play a sport too, actually. I'm on the football team." Tyler piped up.

"Very proud of yourself, I see. Are you often praised for what you do?" Saedii raised an eyebrow. 

"Yeah, I-"

"Then perhaps you should stop letting the compliments get into your head. There's barely any room for the rest of us in this gazebo alongside you and your ego." Saedii deadpanned.

Tyler frowned. He hadn't even done anything wrong, he'd just mentioned that he was on the football team. Kal had mentioned that his sister didn't like football players, but apparently Tyler had underestimated just how much she hated them. "Well you're one to talk."

The conversation died down and became awkward, slightly hostile silence.

Soon enough, Zila arrived on foot. She was carrying her backpack with her, and how she'd managed to walk all the way to the park with a bunch of heavy school books was a mystery. She stopped in her tracks when she saw how many people were there.

"I was unaware of how big this gathering would be." She muttered.

"Hey, Z." Scarlett waved to her. "You can sit down, if you want."

"I think I will be alright standing." Zila assured her. "I do appreciate the sentiment, though."

Scarlett shrugged. "Okay, if you insist. But there's a spot for you if you change your mind."

A few more awkward minutes of no talking went by. Very few of the people in the gazebo actually knew each other. Maybe it had been a mistake to invite a bunch of complete strangers to hang out with each other, but there wasn't really any time to go back. 

After the long stretch of silence, Aurora got there on her bike. It was colorfully decorated, with hand-painted designs covering the entire frame. She chained it to the bike rack and walked over to where everyone else was sitting. She offered everyone a smile and wave, then sat down next to Tyler.

"Hi, everyone. I'm Aurora, but everyone calls me Auri." She said.

The moment he saw her, Kal was smitten. Aurora was beautiful, seemed very sweet, and was probably very creative based on the designs on her bike. Her eyes were unique, unlike anyone's he'd ever seen before. He was very clearly staring, but somehow, she hadn't noticed. Cat did though.

"Hey." Cat whispered harshly. "Loverboy. Might want to pick your jaw up off the ground, or else you might have to ask her out."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean." Kal's posture straightened and he scowled, glancing at Cat.

"Hm. Guess that's just how your face looks then." Cat shrugged. She didn't know him well enough to debate about this. Plus she didn't really care that much. But she'd make sure to keep an eye out.

And finally, the last car arrived. Well, it was actually a van. It was one of those big ones that could fit an entire family in it at once. It went a little bit past 'van' and bordered on 'bus'. Out of the driver's seat stepped a blonde woman, presumably Finian's mother because her features looked nearly exactly like his. Even from far away you would be able to tell that they were related. She went to the back of the car to get Fin's wheelchair, then brought it back around to the passenger's side door and helped him into it. She asked him something, and he replied quickly, but the people in the gazebo couldn't quite hear what they were saying.

Fin said goodbye to his mother and made his way to where the group was sitting. He smiled when he saw how many people were there. "Wow, if I knew I was coming to a party then I would've brought a punch bowl and something to spike it with. Hope I'm not the last one here." He circled around to the other side of the gazebo to use the ramp, then positioned himself at the end of the table and turned on the brakes of his wheelchair.

"Welcome to our little gathering, Finian." Scarlett waved. "This is Cat, Zila, Auri, Kal, and Saedii. Everyone, this is Fin."

"Your hair is so light! It would probably be really easy to dye, have you ever done it before?" Auri asked.

Fin shrugged. "I dyed it black once in 7th grade. Like, fully black, no colors or anything. That was my emo phase."

"Sounds like it could've worked." Cat leaned forward and rested her arms on the table.

"You know, you'd think that it would because my eyes are so dark, but it didn't. I just looked like a vampire. And not even in the hot-and-mysterious way." Fin shook his head. "My cousin dyes his hair black, and it doesn't look very good on him either, but I'd never say that to his face."

"I let these two dye my hair one time." Tyler gestured to Cat and Scarlett. "I had blue streaks in my hair for about a month, but they turned green after a few washes. It took forever to get all the dye out."

"Shampoos that contain sulfates cause hair color to fade." Zila muttered. "That is why color preserving shampoos work, because they don't contain sulfates."

"Huh. I didn't know that." Tyler's brows drew together in thought. "Interesting."

"What, are you planning on dyeing your hair again, Goldenboy?" Fin smirked.

"Never. I'm good." Tyler smiled and held up his hands.

Scarlett bumped shoulders with her brother. "I think that one of us dyeing our hair regularly is enough."

"I don't dye my hair. I have heard that it can be very damaging." Kal offered his input.

"It can be." Zila nodded, speaking louder this time, though her voice was still monotonous. "Because the dye is meant to break down your original hair color, the chemicals in it will dry out the strands."

"Which is another reason why I don't dye my hair anymore." Fin clapped his hands once.

The conversation faded away. For a little while, they'd forgotten that they didn't know each other, and had just been talking like friends. But it had hit like a brick wall that they had been complete strangers up until about 15 minutes ago. Aurora was the first to speak up.

"Anyone want to play a game?" She suggested.

Cat considered the idea for a moment. "I'm down. What were you thinking?"

"We could play truth or dare, except minus the dare part. Basically just asking each other questions, and we have to answer honestly. I'll ask the first question, if that's okay with everyone?" Aurora asked. No one protested, so she continued. "Hm… Fin. What's your favorite animal, and why?"

"I've gotta say that I don't have one. I haven't really thought about it much. But I'll tell you what my least favorite is." Fin made a wide gesture to the whole group. "Fish. My cousin, he's going to college to be a marine biologist. And he doesn't shut up about fish any chance he gets. Knows every single thing there is to know about fish. He could probably list off every single subcategory of fish like they were the damn periodic table song if you asked him to."

"Is this also the cousin who dyes his hair black?" Auri laughed.

"The very same!" Fin grinned. "But, we're officially off topic. Back to the questions. Goldenboy. If you could choose any superpower, what would it be?"

"Super strength." Tyler said as if he'd thought about it before. "It probably wouldn't be allowed in sports, but it would make a lot of other things easier."

"Plus then you wouldn't need to get up at 3 in the morning to do an entire workout routine before school." Scarlett teased.

"No, I'd still do that." Tyler smiled. "Now for a question… Zila?"

Zila looked up from whatever she'd been doing on her phone. "Hm?"

"How long do you think you'd last in a zombie apocalypse?"

"I think that I would die of natural causes in a zombie apocalypse. There is no way of knowing for sure, of course, because my survival would depend on variables such as the running speed of the zombies or how strong they were." Zila explained her thought process. "But in a scenario where they are slow, weak, and unintelligent, I would easily outsmart them."

"Slow, weak, and unintelligent… are we talking about zombies, or the people in my math class?" Cat smirked. That earned a laugh from the group.

The game lasted for a few more hours. They learned things about each other that they might not have thought about before. For example, they learned that Kal and Saedii had been to 63 countries, and after finding that out, Fin encouraged them to go to 6 more so the number would be perfect. They learned that Zila's favorite color was green. That Tyler had broken 10 bones in his lifetime. That Aurora was planning on joining the art club and the track team. That Scarlett had once accidentally downloaded a virus onto Ty's phone, causing him to need a new one. That Fin lived with both of his parents, 6 siblings, 2 aunts, 1 uncle, and 5 cousins, as well as next door to all of his grandparents, 4 uncles, 5 aunts, and 13 cousins. That Cat was already working on a few college applications. All in all, it had been a very interesting game, and before they knew it the sky was turning pink.

"I should probably get going." Fin squinted up at the sky. "My mom doesn't want me to be out past dark, and if I don't text her soon, she's going to come here on her own."

"That's a good idea. Scar and I should head home too." Tyler agreed. "Early to bed, early to rise, as they say."

"Well, if you two are leaving, the rest of us might as well disband too." Cat shrugged.

"How about we exchange numbers?" Aurora suggested, taking her phone out of her pocket. "I'd like to stay in touch with all of you."

Everyone else took out their own phones, and each took turns reading off their numbers. Tyler noticed that Kal's sister hadn't said anything.

"Saedii? Are you going to join the conversation?" He raised an eyebrow.

"No need." Saedii responded coldly, shaking her head. "Why would I need the numbers of my brother's friends?"

"Fine then. If that's really how you're going to think." Tyler waved his hand dismissively.

Aurora made a group chat with all of them in it and sent a quick 'hi', just so it would show up on the others' phones. After that, everyone went their separate ways. Cat and Zila started walking out of the park. Auri went to her bike, Kal and Saedii to their car. Finian texted his mom, then turned off the wheelchair brakes and went back to the parking lot. Scarlett and Tyler began the walk home.

"That went surprisingly well!" Scar said once they were out of earshot. "Usually it isn't the best idea to invite a bunch of people to hang out when they don't know each other, but they seemed to get along great for complete strangers."

"I don't really know if they can be considered strangers anymore, Scar." Tyler pointed out. "I'd even go as far as to say that we've made ourselves some new friends."

"I hope so. It gets so boring not having anyone to wave to in the halls." Scarlett stretched out the 'o' in 'boring'. And as dramatic as she was, Tyler had to admit that she was right.

"Yeah… I'm glad we met these guys."

The sun had set by the time they arrived back home. Adams greeted them when they came through the door, but there wasn't any small talk. Their days had been awfully draining. They figured it would be better to get to bed early, despite the fact that it was officially the weekend. Tyler went to bed early most days anyway, but this was especially rare for Scarlett.

They thought back on how crazy that day had been. First a new kid showed up, then Tyler got into a fight and went to the principal's office, then they'd made friends with a bunch of people they'd never met before. It was only the beginning of the school year. And as Tyler and Scarlett settled into bed in their own respective rooms, they both had the same thought on their minds.

This was going to be an interesting year, for better or for worse.

Taglist: @taco-taco-belle (Ask to be on the taglist!)

[noblest-roman-of-all]

best friend’s best friend ch 1

day 15, and we’re doing something a little different! the prompt today was ‘skeletons in the closet’, and it worked too well for an idea that i had just finished the first chapter for! idea credit fully goes to @your-inner-villain, who graciously allowed me to write it

pairings: platonic logan/virgil and virgil/remus, background romantic roman/janus

tw: cursing? i think thats all

Word of advice: if anyone tells you your past won’t find you in college, they’re lying to you. Virgil learned this experience. 

He didn’t necessarily have a bad past, just a bit… tumultuous. He got into trouble a lot as a kid, but he’s proud to say he mellowed out slightly in his teen years, and with the friends he’d made in college, he had put a lot of that stuff behind him. Sure, he looked back on it with fondness, and sometimes he found himself wishing he had a partner in crime like he did back then, but it’s all good. He’s a semi-functional adult now, and all of that is behind him. Barely even counts as skeletons in his closet, just one of those plastic ones you always find around Halloween. 

Except apparently the universe loves proving him wrong, and adding extra drama into his life. It’s like his life was written by some shitty creative writing student trying to write the next big drama TV show. 

Virgil met Logan second semester of his freshman year, in a philosophy class they both took. He’s pretty sure the professor still gets headaches when he sees the two of them anywhere near each other, just remembering the debates they would have. Despite that, they ended up becoming fast friends, seeing as they understood each other in a way they never usually found. Eventually, Virgil had hung around in Logan’s dorm room long enough to get to know his roommate, a philosophy major named Janus. And apparently, when someone knows Janus, his boyfriend Roman, the most stereotypical theater major ever, was impossible to avoid. 

Virgil liked the little friend group he had accumulated with them, though sometimes he would look at Roman and swear he knew him from somewhere. There was something about his face, the dramatic way he spoke, the dangerous glint in his eyes that would appear right before he and Logan began to argue about some inane thing, all seemed so familiar in a way he couldn’t place. He decided it was probably nothing, and tried to get on with his life. And for a good while, he had. They kept in touch over the summer, and when sophomore year came around Virgil and Logan had agreed to room together. 

After a particularly exhausting 3 hour lecture, Virgil dragged himself back into their room with the intent to have a snack and play some video games for a few hours. Judging by the way Roman was sitting at their dinky little dining table, practically vibrating with nerves, Virgil figured that probably wasn’t going to happen. 

“What’s the matter, princy? Did the Disney marathon get cancelled or something?” he asked, shrugging out of his jacket. Roman laughed, and seemed to calm down slightly. 

“I know you would be just as devastated as I would be, Count Woe-laf,” Roman said. “No, I was hoping you’d come out with us tonight. My brother will be there, and the more people to manage him, the better.” Roman gave a dramatic shudder, but Virgil could tell from the tension in his shoulders he really was worried about something. Virgil sank down into the seat across from him. 

“Who else is going?” Virgil asked. 

“Just Logan and myself. Janus is busy with some study group tonight, though I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s just ditching,” Roman muttered. At Virgil’s curious hum, Roman huffed out a laugh. “He’s met my brother before. They get along great, but… he can be a bit much, even for Jan.” 

Virgil took stock of the possibilities for the night, the amount of energy meeting a new person would take, and how much Roman would pout if he said no, and decided that it really wasn’t worth the possibility of Roman whining for weeks. He sighed dramatically, and slumped back in his seat. 

“Fine. I’ll go.” Roman whooped in victory, then stood up and gathered himself. 

“Wonderful! Alright, we’re meeting at 6 at the sushi place near by, you know it right?” Before Virgil could respond, Roman waved him off. “I’ll send you the address and the time, just to be sure. I know how overly cautious you are. I think you’re going to be a great balance to my brother, you might actually be able to manage him.” After a few more hurried “thank you’”s, Roman was out the door. Virgil took a moment to realize that he’d just agreed to meet with someone that Roman thought was a lot to handle. 

“Fuck.” 

Virgil got to the sushi place at 5:45, paced outside for about 10 minutes wondering if anyone else was even there yet or if he was there super early, then realized he could see Roman’s brightly colored jacket through the window and went in. 

“Virgil! There you are!” Roman called as soon as Virgil walked in. Logan was also already there, giving him a slight nod of acknowledgement and a smile as he walked in. Virgil held up a hand in a wave and slid into the seat next to Logan.

“Alright, now the only one we’re waiting for is my brother,” Roman sighed, adjusting his jacket again. Logan rolled his eyes slightly at the nervous gesture. 

“I really don’t understand why you’re so nervous about this evening, Roman. How bad could he possibly be?” Logan asked. Roman began to open his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by the door of the restaurant flying open. 

“Ro-ro! There you are!!” As soon as he heard that voice, Virgil realized several things all at once. He realized why Roman seemed so familiar, he realized Roman was entirely justified in being nervous about tonight, and he realized that he absolutely should have stayed home tonight. 

As mentioned earlier, Virgil got into a lot of trouble as a kid, and he almost always got into trouble with one other boy. Remus had been his best friend in middle school; they talked about everything, about their weird family situations, about how much they hated certain teachers and how others ones weren’t that bad, about TV shows and movies and music and the most ridiculous pranks they pulled. When Virgil moved away and went to a different high school than Remus, they fell out of contact. Nothing malicious happened, no big drama or anything like what he might have expected. Just an understanding that they had different lives and schedules now. He grew up and moved on, and never thought he’d ever see Remus again. 

Yet here he was, years later, looking at Remus in the middle of a sushi restaurant, hug-tackling Roman and giving him a noogie so hard Virgil swore he could feel it. Logan was watching this exchange with vague amusement, but when he saw Virgil’s face, it morphed into concern. He raised an eyebrow in a way that meant ‘Are you okay?’, but Virgil couldn’t rub two brain cells together to come up with an answer, because apparently his plastic skeleton in the back of the closet was out and about, wearing crust pants and with a patch of hair so alarmingly green it hurts a little bit to look at. 

“Alright, get off me you idiot,” Roman said with a fond smile. Remus unlatched himself from Roman and folded his arms smugly. 

“Anyways, Remus, this is Logan.” Remus gave him a quick look, then nodded approvingly, and shifted his gaze to Virgil. He had been hoping against hope that Remus wouldn’t recognize him, but as soon as Remus locked eyes with him he froze. Roman continued his introduction, utterly oblivious. 

“And this is-” 

“Virgil.” Remus finished for him. Virgil could feel Logan and Roman’s eyes turn to him, watched the shock on Remus’s face turn into something else, something he couldn’t even place. 

Shit. 

[mikejaffa]

Magikal Musings and Ramblings

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR NEW MUTANTS AND X-MEN TITLES FROM THE 1980s TO THE PRESENT DAY Even though Kispesan is blocking me, and I only read her post because it was reblogged by somebody else, I still wanted to chime in on the discussion she started when she wrote:  “How do you feel about all of the focus that Magik gets in comics at the expense of all of her teammates? I swear since Extraordinary she's been written as this uber competent powerhouse who gets a scene showcasing how awesome she is in every issue. Rosenberg's Dead Souls, Uncanny and the Empyre mini were all especially egregious. We barely ever get to see Dani and Shan do anything in comparison.” I’ve been a fan of Illyana ever since I stumbled on Magik #3 at a newsstand at Sangertow Mall in Utica, NY; I can see the book in the comics stand as I write this.  Its cover really grabbed my attention.  So I was pleased when they brought her back years ago, and I thought she deserved a turn as New Mutants’ team leader.   But she has been overexposed...and this isn’t new.  I mentioned Magik #3.  Looking back, it’s easy to see that the Magik limited series and New Mutants vol. 1 #14-21 were Illyana’s origin story and introduction to the team.  So no surprise that the Demon Bear storyline highlighted her sorcerous abilities; Chris Claremont had planned that all along.   But he made long-lasting missteps along the way.  Rahne calling Illyana things like “Witch!” and “spawn of Satan!” was inexplicably dropped after New Mutants vol. 1 #25.  There’s no hint anywhere as to how Rahne and Illyana resolved that conflict, yet resolved they had to have resolved it.  One day it was happening, then it was not.  And in 2018, Dead Souls #2 had Rahne say that Illyana had “always been weird,” with no hint of how she went from “spawn of satan” to “weird.”  Rahne’s religious objections were there when ‘Yana was front and center and then dropped.  If Claremont had given it no more thought than that, he’s done his characters a disservice.   This leads to the present day and Illyana’s recent exposure.  It can be summed up in two words:  the movie.  It also effected Rahne’s physical appearance in “war children” and may have precipitated retconning in a line about Illyana being “weird,” although I won’t know for sure until I see the movie on Google Play. (When is it getting on Google Play, anyway?  Will I be alive then?) The movie also snagged Kitty.  It’s cleared to me she was killed off and left dead for several months so Lockheed could bond with Illyana.  That way, when people who had met Illyana through the movie would pick up a book which had Lockheed perched on Illyana’s shoulder.   And Illyana has been exposed beyond the X-Books, appearing in Savage Avengers.  But again, it’s because of the movie; I won’t be surprised if Illyana reappears in the next Dr. Strange movie, and odds are Rahne won’t be in that one.  I guess a badass blonde with bangs does well with 18-25 year old males.  Ok, with 55 year old ones, too.  But as much as I love the character, pushing her like crazy for commercial reasons...it’s just the wrong reason.  

Not that it’s all been bad.  “Dead Souls” hinted at Illyana’s vulnerable side.  And the odd moments between her and Rahne, even if they were the product of the rectal school of creative writing, hinted at an interesting dynamic.  It would have been great if the book had become an ongoing series and those issues could have been explored further.  Sadly it was not to be.  “Dead Souls” came to a crashing halt, Rosenberg fed Illyana and Rahne into his X-Men meatgrinder (killing Rahne in the most ludicrously implausible way possible), and now they are back with no mention of exactly Illyana “came back” or any other issues before.  In fact, I can’t think of any moments in the new book when they had any dialogue other than some lines about coffee.  I guess whatever Rosenberg had in mind in “Dead Souls” has been forgot about (along with all the men Kitty had relationships with, including the guy she almost married, and how Illyana flirted with Roberto da Costa, but that’s another pet peeve for another time).

And then there’s Dani.  Historically, Dani was the leader of the New Mutants.  Illyana being leader in “dead souls” was explained as Dani being, um, indisposed.  But now she’s back. What are her powers?  We’re not seeing them.  Is she the team leader?  Does the team even have a leader?  Is Illyana actually part of the team?  If she is, why is she running around in an Aku cosplay instead of the team colors?  

And I’m concerned about what the movie might portend for Illyana and Dani’s relationship in the comic, although that is based on a spoiler.  But in the aforementioned classic books, an evolving friendship between Dani and Illyana was one of the story points.  In New Mutants vol. 1 #18, Dani narrated that Illyana “trusted me with her secrets--things she hasn’t told the X-Men, or even her best friend, Kitty Pryde.  It hurts that I won’t do the same.”  Going forward to vol. 1 #24, Claremont wrote, “Of all the New Mutants, only Danielle Moonstar has seen Illyana in action within this eldrtich land where her will is absolute law.  That experience forged and strengthened the two young women’s friendship.”  Yet what I have heard about the movie indicates Dani and Illyana are more adversarial, at least at the start, a complete contradiction of comic book canon.  

So what does that mean for Dani going forward?  Does she reassert herself as New Mutants team leader, or will she be Illyana’s second banana?  Will the team even have a formal leader?  And where does Illyana fit in if she won’t wear her yellow and blacks anymore?  Will Illyana and Dani be friends, or will there have to be an edge between them because of how they were written in the movie?  

So to summarize my long answer to a short question, while Illyana is one of my favorite character’s, she is being pushed too much for commercial reasons, ie the movie.  And there is a laundry list of issues involving both her and her relationships with Dani and Rahne that are either being ignored or handled in a way I’m not comfortable with.  

[brittle-bone-gabe]

Erase Me: Chapter One- Moving Pictures

Introduction, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven

Summary: Welcome to the never ending, never changing loop. The loop can’t break, it’s always been the same. Henry never realized he was trapped, but coming back to the animation studio for the “first time” just to see a small, human-like child makes Henry realize that dreams really do come to life.

Read on other platforms: AO3, FFN, Wattpad

The studio was oddly silent, Henry was used to coming into the studio for work and would instantly be greeted with talking or laughing from Joey Drew or the other employees that worked for him. Not this time… the studio was dimly lit with little sound, mainly just ambient noises such as a clock ticking somewhere in the studio and the familiar sound of a projector. Henry would be lying if he said this place wasn’t a tad bit creepy… Well, he was here now, the trip might as well be worth it considering the fact he paid for a flight and a hotel room to see what Joey wanted. Now he just had to find Joey.

When taking his first step into the studio, a pipe that was on the ceiling busted open, pouring ink all over the floor below, almost spilling over Henry. That would not have been good, if possible, Henry would like to not be covered in ink by the time he leaves the studio to go back to the hotel. As Henry began walking into the studio, he couldn’t help but notice that the posters of Bendy and his friends that were plastered on the wall were still in great condition. If Henry didn’t know any better, he would say that those could be worth some serious money for being originals and unreleased as merchandise. In the left corner of the room, Henry noticed that a projector was left on, but nothing was playing over it. Huh… did that mean Joey got here before he did? Was Joey losing it? Normally he never left projectors on, something about not wanting to waste money buying new ones if one were to break.

               Strange… but okay, Henry thought to himself as he walked up to the projector, flipping the switch to off like he used to do whenever any of the employees accidentally left the equipment on.

               It was odd to think that this booming animation studio was now left abandoned for four-years. Henry had no idea why in the hell they would’ve shut down, but he could only assume it some sort of violations of sorts. Joey Drew Studios was making so much money, producing so much media that children all over the country enjoyed. Why just suddenly shut down? Maybe that’s what Joey wanted to talk to him about?

               Henry jumped a bit when he turned to see a Bendy cutout that was propped up against the wall next to where the projector was pointing to. Guess he didn’t see it while being blinded by the bright light of the projector. Jesus… Henry remembered when they first rolled those cutouts out, everyone used to scare each other by moving them and poking them out of nowhere in the hallways. It was good fun, until it was taken too far, and Joey demanded that everyone stop messing with the cutouts unless they were prepared to take the broken ones out of their paychecks. Just like he did back then, Henry still found the cutouts to be slightly unsettling. The constantly smiling Bendy with eyes that seemed to follow you wherever you went was just highly unnerving. Surely they were enough to haunt your dreams if you were around them enough. Aright, enough goofing around, Henry needed to find Joey and figure out why he was called here for.

               Turning back around, Henry started walking back down the room, turning right at a familiar hallway.

               “Hey, here’s my old desk. I’ve wasted so much time in this chair,” Henry reminisced, running his hand around the back of the unmoved, dusty wooden chair. The flickering light above said desk made the Bendy cutout creepier than it already was; when was that put there?

               Henry could help himself when he stopped to think about more of the olden days working here just sitting at his desk alone. While animating Henry went into “the zone,” as his coworkers would call it. It seemed as though nothing could break away his concentration while he had an important task to do. One day, Joey had given him the task to draw up the friend that he had described to Henry as a “tall anthropomorphic wolf.” Henry loved those type of tasks, he was allowed to use as much creative freedom as he so desired as long as it fit within the keywords that Joey had given him. While he was hard at work, the lead projectionist, Norman Polk, and Wally Franks, who was a janitor at the time, decided to see how badly they could scare him. It wasn’t anything major, in fact, it was rather stupid, or at least that’s what Samuel Lawrence, the song and music director, had thought when he came out of his “dungeon” for a rare moment to get some feedback from the animation studio. He had watched while sipping his coffee as the two workers gathered all the Bendy cutouts they could find, placing them around Henry’s work area until they couldn’t fit anymore. The entire time Henry had no idea what they were doing or that he was the victim of a prank. The prank in itself wasn’t scary, but when Henry turned around to answer to whoever was calling his name after just getting out of his major concentration zone, well, it was like seeing an actual demon. Norman and Wally lost it, laughing at the startled man while Sammy just shook his head as he walked away, trying to hide his smile behind his coffee mug.

               Pulling himself out of his memories, Henry noticed something that was highly unusual sitting on his desk. There was a little, poorly drawn Bendy doodle that he’s never seen before. Why would that be there? Henry picked it up, studying the art to see if he could possibly trace it back to someone else who did animation in the studio originally before he left. He didn’t, but even if he could, none of them would produce something so… childish. The only explanation for this that Henry could come up with was that someone who wasn’t in the animation department tried to create something, knowing that Joey wouldn’t like it due to the fact it made Bendy look less than perfect, or someone from the department had brought their kid into work. The latter seemed to be too unrealistic, as Joey didn’t allow anyone besides employees or official state workers to come into the studio. Huh… this was strange… Henry put the paper back where it belonged, but it slipped onto the floor, landing on top of a pile of papers that Henry didn’t realize he was stepping on. Once he did though he took a step back, kneeling down to see what was there.

               Everything scattered on the floor were more children’s drawings of Bendy or other various characters that appeared in the cartoon. The thing that really stuck out about these drawings wasn’t the fact that obviously a child made them, but because they were all drawn in such heavy ink, as though they didn’t know what the appropriate amount of ink should be. Henry could only scratch his head in confusion, no sound or reason could help him put the pieces together for this one… He even thought about maybe someone was squatting their building, but that would be impossible too since the door was locked and there weren’t any windows in the actual studio itself. Certainly a mystery this was becoming…

               Just as Henry was standing up with the help of the wooden chair, he swore he had caught something in the corner of his eye. When he whipped his head around to the room behind him, he didn’t see anything, but that was a new room that he’s never seen before. Being in the studio now was like walking into a completely new job site, everything was so familiar yet different at the same time. Something was going on in here, either Joey had to come out and explain what it was, or Henry would figure it out himself.

               Checking to make sure that Joey wasn’t there to pull any type of prank on him, Henry cautiously made his way into the new room he’s never experienced before. Inside, there were three animation desks that were similar to his, most certainly more used than his ever was.

“Huh, looks like they knocked out a wall or two after I left. Guess it took a few people to replace me…” Henry muttered to himself as he stood at the raised floor looking over the room.

Every desk had a couple of drawings of the dancing demon himself sitting upon them, some of them were professionally done while others, again, were done by a child. Motivation Bendy posters were hung around the room, probably to make the new animators feel good about themselves while working days on end, Henry was glad to have gotten out of that life, seeing where he is now with his life and family it was worth it.

Henry stepped off the raised flooring to have a more detailed look around the room, there was something in here he could feel it. The overwhelming burning feeling of something watching his every movement was getting the better of him. Honestly, this was the first time this whole time he’s been here that he felt truly creeped out, and as though this place was… Well, he didn’t want to say haunted, there was no such thing as ghosts, but maybe the studio held a presence of some sorts.

“Hello?” Henry nervously called out, hoping he wouldn’t get an answer from nobody expect for Joey Drew. He rounded a corner to see a boarded-up room that appeared to lead to a restroom with, surprise, surprise, a Bendy cutout and flickering lights. Man, these things were everywhere, seems as though they didn’t sell as well as they’d hope.

Henry grabbed the wooden planks that were nailed along the doorway, shaking them to see if there was any way they could get taken down, but they were heavily secured. No way he’d be getting in there. It didn’t matter anyways, nothing of importance seemed to be in here anyways.

With that in mind, Henry moved on out of the room, the studio was now empty of most sound expect for the ominous sound of a clock ticking deep in the studio. It was mocking him, as if telling him that he was wasting his time here in the studio, just like he wasted an entire year being trapped here away from his wife. Tick, tick, tick, tick… Henry shook his head, pressing forward as he moved across the room that led down another hallway. Even though he’s worked here for a year, the place seemed to be the same yet extremely different.

Once Henry rounded a corner, he stopped when he came into a room with ink heavily dripping down from the ceiling and spilling onto the wooden floor below, but that’s not what caught his attention. On the wall above, written in heavy ink wrote: “DREAMS COME TRUE.” Upon closer inspection, the ink appeared to be freshly written with a small, smudged handprint underneath the written. Every brain cell was telling Henry to turn back around, pack his bags from the hotel, get back on another plane and go the hell home where he would be safe. However, one, just one, tiny little brain cell was encouraging him to go forward, to figure out what was going on here and why Joey needed him here so urgently.

Putting on the bravest face he could muster, Henry proceeded to follow the hallway further into the studio. His ears were picking up on something… Was that… a radio? Why would a radio be playing in here? Nothing was making sense and it was starting to drive Henry crazy. He stopped next to the first door that came up on his left, that had to be where the music was coming from. Along with the music, there was a bright light shining from underneath the crack in the door. Henry tried to open the door, but it was locked, and there was no way he could open it from his end. Damn, guess he’d have to come back to it later.

Pushing forward, there was something different hanging up on the wall that wasn’t just a Bendy sticker or a vintage cartoon poster. This was an Ink Output Schedule, whatever that was supposed to mean, as that certainly wasn’t there when he was still around. The white erase board was a bit difficult to read, but from Henry’s understanding was that it was comparing how many gallons of ink they were using a week? That didn’t quite make since considering the fact the last entry was listed as 423 gallons. If that were the case, then that was insane. Why would they be using all this ink? They were just an animation studio, right?

A usual thick pipe was going across the remainder of the hallway with a sign that read: “Please watch your step.” Thankfully, Henry noticed said pipe before carelessly started walking down the hall, that would’ve been a worker’s comp case. Well, it would’ve been if he still worked here that is. The hall had led into a balcony that looked down on a rather large room that, again, Henry has never seen before, he has accepted that this place got flipped around and he had no idea what anything was or is anymore. There were large chains that were hooked to the ceiling that led down what appears to be a rather large and deep hole in the ground. What could possibly be down there? Henry was eyeing the power switch next to him, but there was no way it would work in its current state as the power source was missing. Thankfully, they weren’t far away, there was a hardware chest that contained the power cells that were needed to get this going.

“Let’s see what you’re hiding down there, old friend,” he said out loud before pulling the switch.

The sound of old rusty chains squeaked through the air like nails on a chalkboard, sending goosebumps through Henry and a chill down his spine as he patiently waited for the old equipment to bring up whatever it was hiding out of sight. The chains pulled up the ink machine rather quickly for its size and weight, surprising Henry. An ink machine? Why in the world would they need an ink machine for? They never had problems getting ahold of ink while Henry was still here, so what changed since he left? Did Joey want to save money? Were ink businesses not conducting business with Joey Drew Studios? Henry was trying to connect the dots here, but nothing was fitting together which greatly frustrated him. Ink machine… Joey never mentioned that he was thinking getting one of those. What was he up to? From where Henry was standing it appeared that the machine wasn’t on; well, he supposed that’s what his next task was going to be.

“Joey… where the hell are you?” Henry mumbled to himself as he backed out of the room, turning to the right, going even deeper into the studio.

Why was he being put through all of this? Was this a test? A game? A cruel joke? Or perhaps it was a way to lure Henry back into the studio after thirty-years, and for what? So many questions were going to be left answered unless Joey came out of hiding.

Henry was lost in his thoughts, as he usually was, when a wooden plank fell from the ceiling unexpectedly. He stopped in his tracks, eyes wide with his heart beating through his chest as though it were trying to escape. He had to tell himself to relax, it was an old building and they were known for falling apart, just look around his environment, there were broken planks and holes in the walls. It’s fine, this was fine.

Turning right, Henry came across a large switch with a sign that read INK MACHINE over it with a flashing low-pressure sign next to the switch. There were six short pillars that appeared as though they held something for years judging by the dust that settled over the majority of the plates. Behind each pillar on the wall were pictures of what seemed to be random objects. This was a set up Henry’s never seen before.

“Alright, how do I get this work?” He asked out loud, hoping that maybe something from the heavens would give him an answer. Did he have to find and place the items on the pillars? Well, that shouldn’t be too hard, right…?

With the pieces of the puzzle memorized, Henry left the room to go find said items. The studio was fairly small, so finding these pieces shouldn’t be too hard. As he turned into the hallway, Henry once again had another scare. A Bendy cutout that he knew for damn sure wasn’t there before was now standing upright where the wooden plank fell from above.

“Who put this here?!” Henry demanded, glancing around, “this isn’t funny, Joey. Just come out.” He stood there for a moment, hoping that his old friend would start laughing and come out of the shadows, but there was nothing. Only the ambient, ominous sounds of the workshop filled the dull, dusty air around him.            

Everything was telling Henry to get the hell out of here, but now his curiosity was peaked and had to keep pressing forward. Besides, he could leave whenever he wanted to, so what was the worst that could happen?

Henry cautiously moved around the cutout, going to the room directly behind it. Henry only made it two steps into the room before he had to stop in his tracks once again at what he was seeing. He rubbed his eyes to make sure he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing. Before him, strapped to a gurney upright with metal bars going across to secure them was Boris. As in, Boris from the Bendy cartoon. His chest was ripped opened with his ribs sticking out and a wrench placed inside.

“Oh my god… Joey, what were you doing?” As much as he didn’t want to, Henry had to take the wrench out, the tool made a squishy sound as it was yanked from the chest cavity, causing Henry to cringe. This was some sort of cultist ritual, it had to be, right? Nobody who was sane would do something like this. “’Who’s laughing now?’” Joey read the ink written on the wall, it was in a similar handwriting to the Dreams come true written out in the hallway, expect this time Henry noticed small, ink footprints leading out a door across the room. “God, this better not be a prank…” Henry mumbled as he went to investigate where the tracks led.

He opened the closed door, revealing a small room with two more animation desks. The tracks went right passed them, going out the door that led to the main room and to the right. Henry couldn’t help himself when he followed them further and further. The tracks stopped a slightly ajar door, with a shaky hand, Henry opened it quickly. Nothing or nobody was inside, not like anyone could fit in there anyways, it was a small closet that had empty soup cans scattered about. Closing the door, Henry noticed a cassette player sitting on the small end table, he pressed the play button, hoping that would give him some insight as to what was happening. He instantly recognized the voice of Wally Franks.

“At this point, I don’t get what Joey’s plan is for this company. The animations sure aren’t being finished on time anymore, and I certainly don’t see why we need this machine. It’s noisy, it’s messy, and who needs that much ink anyways? Also, get this, Joey had each one of us donate something from our workstation. We put them on these little pedestals in the break room… to help ‘appease the gods’ Joey says. Keeps things going… I think he’s lost his mind, but, hey, he writes the checks. But I tell you what, if one more of these pipes bursts, I’m outta here.”  

There was another closet behind the cassette player, but that one was locked. God, none of this was making sense. Why the ink machine? Why were there audio logs laying around? What happened when Henry left?

To keep himself from asking questions in a circle, Henry proceeded forward, down a long hallway where he found more of the fresh small ink footprints. He was just waiting for something to round the corner and jump out at him to scare him. Nothing did happen, however. He made it to the old viewing room without any more mishaps. It was dark, so dark that Henry could barely see in front of him. He saw a small flicker of light behind the projector, the dimly lighted light hung over a valve that read ink pressure.

That’s a good thing to have in mind, he thought as he picked up an old ink stained Bendy plush toy, giving it a squeak. God, he loved those toys, they were so cute.

Henry wandered around for about ten minutes before coming across another door that he remembered led into their downstairs break room. As apposed to the break room upstairs, this one was used when they were celebrating and had mini parties. Henry had a small, sad smile as he looked down at the room, remembering all the times they had down there. Norman and Wally were always the loudest ones in the room, Sammy seemed to have always acted as though he was pulled away from whatever important work he was doing to be there, as he was always grumpy and stewing in the corner writing on his music sheets. Joey always told him to lighten up, but Sammy seemed to be too serious in his work to do such a thing. Everything in the break room was preserved, the posters were left untouched, the furniture was in great condition, the only thing out of place was all the empty soup cans that were laying around. Wandering around, Henry stubbed his toe on a large book, when he knelt down to pick it up, he saw it was a book Joey wrote. The Illusion of Living, well he needed that too, so he tucked it under his arm with the rest of the pieces he collected.

“Would you look at that,” Henry said after he stood up and saw the old punch time clock. “I wonder if you still work.” He pushed down the old timecard that was still in the machine, it startled him with the old, familiar ringing sound it produced whenever it successfully punched a card. A loud thud came from up the stairs, startling Henry. “This place is insane.”

He went back up the stairs quietly and carefully, as the sound seemed like someone got startled by the time clock. Henry was prepared to catch whoever was messing with him, hopefully they weren’t a danger to him, but if they were well, he wouldn’t be afraid to defend himself.  The door that once had a radio playing behind it was now opened, the radio and lights off; so there was somebody hiding in there, huh? Sitting on the desk was a vinyl disk, Henry needed that so he took it, but underneath there was a note that read ‘He will set us free.’

“This isn’t funny anymore,” Henry called out as he turned around and walked out of the room. He glanced down both sides of the hallway to see if he could find anything or anyone. There it was again, a new set of small footprints tracked in ink leading back towards the entrance of the studio. This was it, Henry was closing in on whoever was messing with him and he certainly had a few words to say to them.

The footprints had suddenly stopped next to the projector that Henry had turned off the moment he entered the building. That didn’t make any sense, where did they go? Whoever it was couldn’t have just disappeared, right? Thankfully the footprints had led him right to the last two items he needed; the gear and the inkwell, it was as though someone already collected them for him as he knew those weren’t there earlier. Henry had the strong feeling that he was being watched as he picked up the last two items, he couldn’t focus on that now, he had to get this damn ink machine started so he could figure this all out.

“That’s all of them,” Henry said to himself before turning and walking back to the old breakroom that held the stands. The one thing he noticed, however, was that the Bendy cutout that was oddly placed there before was now gone. Henry was slowly starting to believe in ghosts at this point, or maybe being in here was making him lose his mind.

One by one, Henry placed every item on the correct pillar, lights turned on over head on each one he did until the room was completely lit. He had no idea who could’ve come up with this sort of layout, it seemed over the top and dramatic. Well, he just described Joey Drew, didn’t he?

“Now I just need to get the ink flowing, there was a valve in the projection room, right?” At this point, Henry couldn’t help but talk to himself, he felt alone and scared, that maybe talking to himself would help him put on the brave face to keep on pushing through this.

Making his way back, Henry was on a complete look out, both with his eyes and his ears. Obviously something was going on here and he didn’t like it at all. As he was going down the long hallway to the projection room, another Bendy cutout popped out around the corner, causing him to jump. That was it. Henry upped his pace, rounding the corner to catch whoever it was doing this. It was only this room between them now, he was going to catch him. The projection room was still dark, so finding anyone was going to be made difficult.

“You can come out now, I know you’re-“ Before Henry could finish his sentence, the projector turned on seemingly by itself, filling the room with light. The only thing that was being projected was a clip of Bendy the Dancing Demon doing a simple little dance with his trademark whistle in the background. Going behind the projector, Henry thought he was going to catch them, but nobody was there and it only made him more confused. That’s it, he was losing it. “You can’t be serious…” Henry messed with the ink pressure valve, the instant he moved it the room began to flood with ink. “So much for not getting a stain.”

This journey felt more like an endless going back and forth, as Henry made his way back to power the ink machine. He did a quick glance to make sure he had every item, everything was in place except for the Bendy plush toy. Henry groaned in frustration, but since the pillar still had a light on overhead maybe it would still work. Once he flipped the switch all the lights went off in the studio, great, this was just great. There were some dimly lit lights that helped him out, but Henry still had to keep his hand on the wall to make sure he was still going the correct way. The sound of the ink machine starting up was loud and unexpected, there better be the light at the end of the tunnel for this one.

Just keep moving, just keep moving, Henry told himself as he stepped over the large pipe in the middle of the hallway. Walking up to the ink machine room, it was suddenly boarded up. How could someone do that without him noticing or hearing? Once Henry got a close enough look into the room, something that could only be described as an ink demon popped up through the cracks, destroying the wooden planks that were in place. Henry had fallen backwards, hitting his head on the floor in shock. The walls and floor around him were turning into an ink stained mess. He had to get the hell out of the workshop. Now.

Henry jumped up, his heart slamming against his chest from both fear and trying to run as fast as he could through the thick ink. The heavy breathing of the ink demon was behind him, slowly getting close now as Henry was trying to maneuver through the twisted hallways. The exit, he needed to get to the exit, that’s the only way he would be safe. Dammit, he knew he should’ve left sooner, why didn’t he listen to his gut feeling? The ink demon let out a loud, ear piercing screech that almost caused Henry to trip over his own feet in fear. No, he was almost to the exit, he could see the door propped open now. He was almost there, he was almost- Wrong. Two more steps and he would’ve been out of the studio. Two steps was all it took for the man to fall through the flooring, falling down several stories, landing back first into a pool of ink. That fall should have killed him, the worse it caused was a sore back.

He let out a groan, laying in the ink for a moment before forcing himself to stand up. Fantastic, now he had to find his way out from an area of the studio he didn’t even know existed. There was too much ink for him to leave the room with on its own, this must have been a usual occurrence since there was a valve that was marked to drain the ink. Henry turned it, in a matter of seconds the ink escaped the room, exposing a door and another cassette player.

“It’s dark and it’s cold and it’s stuck in behind every single wall now. In some places, I swear this godforsaken ink is clear up to my knees! Who ever thought that these crummy pipes could hold up under this kind of strain either knows something about pressure I don’t, or he’s some kind of idiot. But the real worst part about all this… are them noises the system makes. Like a dying dog on it’s last legs. Makes no mistake, this place… this… machine… heck, this whole darn thing… it just isn’t natural. You can bet, I won’t be doing anymore repairs job for Mister Joey Drew.”

Henry didn’t recognize the voice on this tape, it had to be someone who came in after he left to help out around here. He couldn’t focus on that right now, he had to keep draining the ink until he could make an escape plan. Henry continued to go lower and lower, twisting every valve until he came across a door that led to a blocked path of boarded up doorway. On the wall, in fresh ink, read “THE CREATOR LIED TO US.” Whatever that meant… Oh, well, maybe Henry’s luck was finally turning around. On the table next to the message was an axe, yeah, he could use this to get out of here.

“This will definitely come in handy,” he said before chopping down the wooden planks. There were more obstacles to get around, but with the axe nothing was impossible.

This led to a room, a dim room lit with only candles around a pentagram with coffins propped up on the wall behind it. If that wasn’t concerning enough, sitting inside the pentagram appeared to be a human child, but… maybe not completely human. This boy had small, black horns sitting on top of his head, he had very dark features; jet black shaggy hair, a black button down shirt that were cut to make into short sleeves with a white bowtie, black pants and shoes, all making his skin look extremely pale. It wasn’t the horns that caused Henry to stare at him in shock, it was his eyes. His right eye had an almost white iris while his left eye had a jet black iris. Henry could just make out the two fangs that were poking out of the kids mouth. The child was holding the Bendy plush toy that Henry had placed on the pillar upstairs with ink stained hands, staring up at Henry with wide eyes. Henry was taken aback, to say the least. How did this… child (could he even call this a child?) get in the studio?

“What are you-“ Henry stopped talking when the child seemed to wince out of fear, thinking that it was axe, he set it down on the floor, “I’m not going to hurt you.” He held out a hand to the boy to show that he was no danger to him. Panicking, the child stood up quickly, backing up away from him. Every time he backed up Henry would take a small step closer.

The room seemed to be shaking around them, but Henry didn’t pay any mind to that right now. His main focus was trying to figure out why someone was in the workshop when it should have been locked up for a couple of years.

“I promise, I’m not going to-“ Once again, Henry was cut off, but this time it wasn’t by his own doing. The moment he stepped into the pentagram he started seeing vivid visions of the ink machine flash before his eyes, a chair, and the ink demon he saw earlier. He let out a grunt before passing out over the pentagram.

[therangersmistress]

My first go at this thing called writing.

Ok, so, I’ve been reading fanfiction for probably too long considering my age (what can you do?) and I’ve finally decided to try writing my own. I apologise if it’s terrible, but I really enjoyed this. I could’ve written more, and it ends kind of abruptly I know, but I’m dead tired and kind of anxious to get this out there before I keep going with it. Let me know what you think, and if anyone wants to send me asks, please do! :-) 

Characters: Bill Skarsgård/Female Reader 

---

You hadn’t planned on coming. Your main concern when the invitation arrived had been more how much time had managed to pass without you realising than anything else. Ten years. Ten whole years since you graduated, since you left this town for good, left him. And now you’d somehow been roped into going home, all for a little high school reunion. Who even goes to those anymore? Well, you supposed, apparently fools like you.

When you were younger, you’d had this silly notion that one day, when you’d see everyone again, you’d be that woman.

The beautiful woman, with the amazing career and committed partner–the one you see in films. But that wasn’t your reality. Sure, you had a decent job. Your boss was a bit of a dick and the hours could prove tedious but it was something, and it put a cosy roof over your head. You had friends, family you loved, you’d grown into yourself. No longer were you the gangly, coltish looking girl in too-short trousers, a fact of which the men in your life were aware. You just couldn’t help the nagging feeling that something was missing, nor could you admit to the small part of you that whispered it was him.

As you trudged hesitantly up the path to your alma mater, the redbrick entrance looming over you like a warning, all you could do was curse your friend for forcing you into this. 

It had taken some heavy bribery, and not a small amount of guilt tripping, but eventually you’d caved when faced with the sad, concerned-eyes of your closest friend. It was a look you’d been getting a lot lately. 

Supposedly this trip would be good for you, bring closure. Yet you weren’t so sure. As you stopped at the foot of the entrance’ steps, you closed your eyes, letting out a deep puff of air. This was it. This was the moment you’d been waiting for. The gnawing pit of anxiety you’d felt in the months since you received your invite was almost worse than the sudden realisation that you couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t you breathe! It wasn’t like he would even come to this. No, surely not. Not with who he is now. And the rest in there, well, it’s not that you particularly disliked them, although sure there are a few arseholes you’d rather not see again, it’s just that you’d tried so hard to put this town behind you after everything that had happened, to move on, that being here felt like rubbing salt into your already deep wounds. 

You also really didn’t want to see Paulina fucking Engberg’s smug face say “I told-you-so”.

You were jolted out of your impending hysteria by the sound of partygoers. Looking around, you realised the noise had come from inside. Going off of the full carpark, the night air otherwise still and quiet, you assumed you must be the last person to arrive. 

“Fuck. I’m late. OK... Stop stalling. You can do this. I’m almost certain he won’t be in there but even if he is, you can fucking do this.”

You took one last moment of peace before the mayhem, straightening out your midi dress, before glaring at the garish blue and yellow banner ahead and marching inside. 

Welcome back indeed.

The first thing you noticed was the music. 

Why is it that every DJ at every prom, wedding, and apparently high school reunion, plays the same god-awful pop music? 

Hovering by the doors to the gym, you glanced around as subtly as you could for any familiar faces, namely one in particular. With your third pan around the room you decided it was all clear and made a swift beeline for the drinks table. You weren’t above accepting help where given, and this kind of night called for it. With a hefty swig of champagne in you, and a careful eye on the crowd, you ambled over to the main table, spotting a stack of labels and pens placed out. Scribbling down your name, you couldn’t quite swallow the chuckle at the irony of having to remind people who you are, at an event that’s sole purpose is to reminisce in shared memories. 

Sighing, you resigned yourself to at least attempting conversation with someone, deciding to stick it out for a couple of hours out of courtesy and then getting the hell out of here. You had a lovely bed awaiting you in a hotel downtown after all, and you figured you’d treat yourself to some room service and perhaps a drink or two more as a reward for showing.

After several intensely awkward introductions with old classmates and teachers, you had the uncomfortable realisation that almost everyone here had a plus one but you. You knew you should have brought someone, but after the third friend had denied availability you’d decided that perhaps it would be best to come alone anyway, just in case he did show. Better to keep that train wreck from as fewer eyes as possible. 

As the person before you (Megan was it? No Maxine. Perhaps these name tags were good for something) finished their long boasting account of their marriage and how many children they had (“Oh do you want to see a picture? Here. Aren’t they so sweet? You know we always thought you and...”), you could stomach it no longer.

Whipping out your phone (thank god for dresses with pockets), you excused yourself, claiming you needed to make a call, then bolted towards the back door–but not before snatching two flutes of champagne from a startled waiter. Just the quiet of the closed hallway was enough to calm you somewhat as you breathed deeply in and out. 

Feeling more relaxed, you decided to head home, your fluffy down comforter calling you, when from the corner of your eye you spotted an old display case shucked up against the wall. Curious, you found a collection of framed photos from across the years. Placing your drinks to the side, you leaned in for a closer look. Basketball, volleyball, football, it was all there. And at the very back, one you hadn’t seen in years. In the middle of a group of boys, he stood. Impossibly tall, impossibly beautiful, even then. With his floppy hair and his big earnest eyes, not to mention that smile, he was the picture of youth. And he was yours. 

Not anymore, you thought.

So focused on your reminiscing, you didn’t notice until you caught those same eyes in the reflective glass, that you were no longer alone. Your breath caught in your chest, as you choked out the name you hadn’t spoken aloud in years.

“Bill?” 

“I thought I’d find you somewhere around here.”

He leaned down towards you, his breath ghosting over your ear forcing you to shudder. 

You stumbled around, heart racing, almost smacking right into his chest before he caught you, his large warm hand stretched over your shoulder. “Woah, easy there”, he chuckled.

God, you forgot what his presence did to you. 

You weren’t a hugely tall woman by any means, but it was still a rare occurrence that a man could truly make you feel small. And did he get even more attractive? 

As your eyes drifted from his slicked back hair to his sharp angular jaw, his slightly receding hairline that reminded you fondly of his father, you thought he might’ve. The years had certainly done him well, even the faint lines pinching the corner of his eyes suited him. 

“Bill”, his name the only thing you seemed capable of saying. 

Your mind felt like it had dropped through your throat and into your stomach. It was like being parched, like missing something for so long that when it’s right there in front of you again, you can’t believe it.

“Hello sweetheart. It’s been awhile.”

Some awful sound halfway between a scoff and a snort found its way out of your mouth before you could stop it. Blushing, you tried to recover from your mortification.

“Just a bit, yeah.”  

“How’ve you been?” he asked, as he stared at you as intensely as he did ten years ago. 

Bill had this way of making you feel like you were the only thing that mattered when he looked at you. It was those Swedish values of his, or maybe just those huge bug eyes you used to tease him for.  

“Umm”, you stumbled nervously. You’d prepared yourself mentally for this moment, knowing it was a possibility, yet everything you’d thought you would say had left you. 

“I’ve been good thanks, works been good, everything’s umm good. And you?” 

Oh god. What the fuck was wrong with you?

“Everything’s good here too”, he said with no little amount of amusement at your loss for words. It had never been a problem when you were younger. If you remembered right, it was quite the opposite, Bill finding many a creative way to silence your constant talking.   

Great, so not the time to think about that perfect, fucking full mouth of his.

Ripping your mind back to the present, you realised you’d been staring precisely where your thoughts were for some time now, Bill’s expression far too warm and kind for your comfort. 

He had no right to look at you like that. Not after all this time. 

Realising he still had his hand on you, thumb softly rubbing your upper arm, you staggered away, searching for those cursed drinks of yours.

Sculling down the rest of the champagne, back faced to him, you scrambled for something to say. 

“So, I hear the acting is going well?”

Bill, still so modest, looked down, “it is, thank you. I’ve just finished filming actually, so I’m happy to be home for a bit.” 

He paused. “Are you here for long?”

As you went to deny, you couldn’t help but be shocked by the hope you could see in his eyes, hesitant as it was. 

You didn’t want to think too much on it, hope was a dangerous thing after all, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious. That treacherous part of you that had held onto his memory all these years roared in agreement. It was getting harder and harder to quieten it these days and this just might break your resolve. 

“I’m not sure yet, I hadn’t planned to stay past tonight, but I suppose it could be nice to see the town again.”

Smiling, he walked over to you, every step giving you a better look at his tall frame. Broad shoulders, tapered waist, legs for absolute days. That suit must cost a fucking fortune, you thought. 

He snatched the second glass from the table, gulping it down, his Adam’s apple throbbing so enticingly, you wanted to suck your own mark onto it. Licking a drop of champagne off the corner of his lip, he smirked, “I’m so glad”. 

Shit, you thought. You don’t know if this is the closure she meant. 

---

Awesome people I’d kill to have read this:

@lihikainanea

@dreamtherapy

@ill-skillsgard

@skrsgardspams

@elisabethwise

@bae-roman

@inkblotgalaxies

[daybreak-academy-fanfic]

Daybreak Academy: Chapter 12

Debate Session Disaster

Summary: In which Pyra’s debate with Brain is cut short. Word Count: 1,592 First | Previous | Next ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆

This was the first time she was actually attending one of the monthly house activities. She knew what they were, she just never felt inclined to attend them. Had it not been for Pyra, Anora would not have gone to the debate.

“I'm up against this guy named Brain.” Pyra idly said to Anora. “No pressure, am I right?”

Anora gave her friend a small tilt of her head. Pyra had been told ahead of time what the topic she was going to debate once, and she had even made some very good notes on the subject. But now as the moment was coming, it was easy to tell that Pyra was nervous. Anora carefully put her hand on Pyra's shoulder and gave a bright smile. It was this bit of small encouragement that made Pyra smile right back.

“You're right,” Pyra agreed. “I've got this.”

“And for our next debate,” the announcer called from over the speaker system, “On the subject of school uniforms, we are proud to announce Mister Brain and Miss Pyra!”

“Here we go.” mumbled Pyra to herself. Anora once more put a firm hand on her friend's shoulder. They both knew she had it in her, it was just a matter of getting up there to start.

“In favor of this topic, please give a round of applause to Mister Brain!”

The crowd gave a lukewarm applause as a boy walked up on the platform. He looked pretty well dressed for the occasion; wearing a black, unbuttoned coat with rolled sleeves, a pair of relaxed dress pants in grey, and black cowboy boots that reached to roughly mid-calf. To complete the look, he wore a black fedora, adorned with a red and white feather. When he reached the podium, he pulled up a fedora a bit so the crowd could see his light grey eyes in earnest.

“And for the opposition, please give a round of applause to Miss Pyra!”

As with Brain, the audience gave a modest applause as Pyra started to walk over to her podium. Anora watched as her friend was less certain as she took her place. Behind her back, Anora crossed her fingers and wished Pyra the best of luck.

“Brain, you may begin your debate when you are ready.”

Brain gave the vice captain a nod before taking a small breath in. He looked up at everyone with the glimmer of determination shining in his eyes. When he began to talk, not even butter could have melted in his mouth.

“It is a great honor to be chosen for this debate.” he greeted the audience with a smile. “It is certainly a topic that I had not considered before, but do find it rather beneficial to our current student body. As many of you are aware, there is a severe lack of unity at Daybreak Academy. And, while uniforms can not change that over night, I do believe that it could be a step in the right direction.”

As Brain continued his argument, Anora could almost feel herself zone out. It wasn't much of the argument itself, it was more of the tone of Brain's voice. His voice was exact, and each word was said with a purpose. Brain spoke in a tone so certain that it was almost bizarre to think it came from someone in Pyra's grade.

“You drive an interesting argument Brain,” Pyra started to counter, surprising Anora out of her trance. “But I fail to see how allowing making the students wear uniforms allow us to work better together. As you said, it would not happen over night, but taking away our individuality through enforcing uniforms will not reduce in-school bullying. Our unique individuality was the reason why we were placed in our houses, after all. Without our individual sense of style, what school would Daybreak Academy be? To quote the storyteller A. A. Milne; 'The things that make me different are the things that make me.' If we enforce student uniforms to reduce bullying, then what of our creativity?”

“I agree with you, the creativity and individualism that Daybreak Academy exhibits is bar none. Moreover, it is not impossible for students to incorporate their unique style in the uniforms; hair accessories, nail polish, even a pair of socks. However, in this time of increased bullying, we need to find some middle ground on a grand scale- which can easily include the introduction of-”

The sound of a fearful scream brought everyone to stop dead in their tracks. After someone shouted “They have a gun!” and the sounds of popping that definitely did sound like gunfire, that was when pure pandemonium broke out in the auditorium. If no one had ducked, then several were making a mad dash to the exit. Anora didn't react at first. There was just something so… surreal about what was going on. From where she was, she could see students fall into the panicked crowd and no doubt stepped on. It was only when Pyra yanked Anora down to the ground that she gained some sense of reality again.

“Come on,” Pyra said to her, for the first time Anora had known her, her voice was low and dangerous, “There's an exit close to us.”

Anora only gave a nod. Her ears were ringing- or maybe it was still the sound of the gunshots going off? How many rounds were in that gun anyway? Regardless, Pyra led the two of them to an emergency exit; the alarm above the door almost immediately went off in reaction.

“Get back here Unicornis scum!” someone hollered at the girls. Immediately, they turned around and saw an older boy now standing at the exit entrance. He had a matchbox in his hands, which Anora found was odd and made Pyra immediately on edge.

“Where did you get that?!” she demanded. The boy immediately pocketed the matchbox and sneered at her.

“What are you gonna do about it?” he challenged. “You're only Unicornis, you wouldn't have a spine if it got you in trouble with your headmaster.”

And with that, the boy started to charge at the girls with intent to harm. Pyra was ready to fight them, but someone jumped in the way. Pyra's would-be attacker growled at the interventionist as the two started to wrestle each other.

“Go!” the new person demanded. Without being told twice, Pyra and Anora turned on their heels and ran for safety. They didn't stop running until they knew they were in a safe place.

Pyra took several gasps for air before rasping, “I think… that was Brain. I couldn't tell... But it really looked like him… Huh?”

Anora gave a quick nod as she also tried to catch her breath.

“Poor Brain...” Pyra then mumbled. Again, Anora nodded.

For a long time, the two remained in that spot as they tried to regain their breath. It was hard to ground herself after such an odd whirlwind. Anora tried to replay what had happened over and over again, still not quite understanding what had happened. Both of the girls jumped when they heard someone shout;

“Are you two okay?”

The girls turned around to see a worse for wear Brain coming up to them. His hat was gone, his clothes were torn in several places, and a thin streak of blood was coming from his -possibly broken- nose.

“Brain!” Pyra was the first to remark. “Your nose!”

For a moment, the boy gave her a funny look before placing two fingers under his nose. When he pulled back his fingers, there was a bright red substance dripping off of them. He shrugged it off.

“It's just a little nose bleed. A little ice will help with that no problem.”

“But…!”

“Are you two okay?” Brain once more asked, cutting Pyra off.

Pyra and Anora looked at each other before looking back at him. Nervously, Prya responded with, “Y-yeah. I think we are.”

“Good.” the boy sighed. “I don't know what bug crawled up that guy's butt, but it sure made him mad. I thought that kind of anger could only be channeled during finals. Eh...”

“Do you know if anyone else got hurt?” Pyra then asked.

At this, Brain hung his head. “I don't.” he admitted. “But the entrance was an absolute mess. I wouldn't be surprised if people were stepped on by accident.”

“Yikes.”

“You girls did the smart thing, choosing the back exit.” Brain then said to them, folding his arms in thought. “Unfortunately, that's where bug-up-my-pants was also planning their escape.”

“Where are they now?” Anora felt inclined to ask.

Brain looked at Anora as if it were the first time he had seen her. He raised a neat eyebrow before telling her, “I assume the headmaster's office. Or the nurse; I didn't exactly hold back in our fight.”

“Thank you,” Pyra then said to Brain. “You didn't have to step in like that.”

Brain looked at her as if he had not been expecting a compliment. He gave a small half smile before he held his hand out to her.

“Let's finish our debate another time.” he suggested. “I feel like you had some good notes prepared- it would be a shame for them to go to waste.”

It was Pyra's turn to look up at him in surprise. She looked over to Anora (who didn't have much of a reaction) before looking back to Brain. As she took his hand to shake it, she said to him, still quite surprised by everything, “I'd like that.”

[lostinshawnsmemory]

SM Imagine: Khalid’s Sister - Shawn x Black Reader

A/N: When @mani-lifes posted this, I jokingly replied with “I want this fic, I need this fic, might fuck around and write this fic.” I guess I wasn’t joking.

Word Count: 3.1k

Reader’s POV

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited,” you stated from the back seat. Khalid turned to you from his seat in the front of the car and wiggled his eyebrows. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him. You were fortunate enough to have a few weeks off from college to come to LA and go to the studio with him, something you didn’t get to do often. The fact that your brother was a super famous, Grammy-nominated artist was shocking because he was always your annoying brother Donnel to you. 

You weren’t the only one who was excited. Khalid was practically vibrating in his seat. You didn’t know anything about this particular session, but there was clearly something special about it that he wasn’t telling you 

“So how far is this studio anyway?” All you knew was that you were on your way to Malibu which was pretty far from your hotel in West Hollywood according to Google Maps. “It’s only an hour away. Stop complaining.” “I wasn’t complaining Donnell!” you accused calling him by his middle name, something you did whenever he was getting on your nerves, which he somehow always did. “I was simply asking how far away the studio was.” 

“Yeah right.” you could hear the sarcasm in his voice. 

You rolled your eyes again and turned to look out of the window marvelling at the ocean as you drove down the Pacific Coast Highway. Being in college in the middle of Georgia and living in El Paso, meaning you rarely got to go to the beach so being so close to a large expanse of water was always exciting. 

You couldn’t help but sit up when you noticed you were approaching a building an hour later. “Is this it?” “Yes Y/N. We’re here.” 

The first thing you noticed was the trees. The studio was located on a hill surrounded by lush greenery and it had a perfect view of the ocean that took your breath away. You were by no means a creative person but you could see why someone would want to come here, it was a calming space that allowed for that kind of freedom. 

When you got out of the car, you made a show of stretching when you got out of the car, only to exaggerate how tired you were to your brother who didn't even notice because his eyes were glued to his phone. “Great! He’s here.” he muttered locking his phone and placing it in his pocket. “Who’s here?” you questioned but Khalid had already started walking towards the building when he looked over his shoulder and said “Shawn Mendes.”

You couldn’t help the surprise that flashed across your features. “Shawn Mendes?” You knew who he was, everyone knew who he was and you were a fan of his music so now you were doubly excited. You knew that Shawn and your brother were friends but had no idea a collab was in the works. It then dawned on you why Khalid was so jittery and excited in the car. 

As you walked into the studio, the first thing you noticed was the sound of someone playing guitar, even though it was pretty aimless strumming, you found it calming.  There were 5 other people in the room who turned to look at you with warm smiles when you entered the room. 

“Shawn! Hey Man!” Khalid all but yelled. Shawn immediately put down the guitar he was holding and ran towards your brother. The two hugged each other like they hadn’t seen each other in weeks and considering how much your brother travelled, that was probably the case. He then turned to you and stared at for a few seconds before shaking his head and waving somewhat nervously. “Hi, I’m Shawn.” You returned the wave, “Hi I’m Y/N, his sister.” you said as you jerked a thumb at your brother who beamed. “I thought it would be cool for her to come along and see the recording process.” “Great!” Shawn nodded. “If it’s cool with you, then it’s cool with me.” 

You looked around the space and let out a low whistle.  “Wow. This place is...”

“Stunning right?” Shawn finished. 

“It really is.” you nodded.

“Oh!” Shawn smacked his forehead. “Where are my manners?” He turned to everyone in the room who had been watching your exchange “These are the incredible writers that I work with. Teddy Geiger, Scott Harris, Geoff Warburton and Nolan Lambroza. And this is Joel Little, our producer.”

“Hi” you waved to everyone in the room and they all responded with ‘Hi’s’ and waves of their own. After introductions were made, the two artists got down to work. 

“Ok” Shawn clapped his hands together. “I don’t know exactly what this song is going to be, but whatever it is. I don’t want it to be superficial. We have to make a statement. We have to move.”

“Agreed.” Khalid nodded. “ This song could easily be one of the most important that we’ve written, so it has to be something substantial. Something that has substance.”

Shawn looked up at the ceiling. “Recently I’ve felt overwhelmed with the world recently. Khalid and I spoke about what’s been going on in the world recently and I’ve felt scared that everything that’s going on would take my youth away.”

You could see the wheels in his head turning as he said the words. He picked up his guitar and strummed a few chords.

‘You can’t take my youth away

Soul of mine will never break. 

As long as I wake up today

You can’t take my youth away.’

It was the most amazing thing you’d ever seen. Almost instantly, the room flew into motion. Scott picked up a guitar and started strumming along with Shawn, who was walking around the room playing the same chords he started with.

You’d seen your brother’s creative process but watching him with Shawn and the writers in the room was something else. They were like a well-oiled machine feeding off each other's ideas. Shawn was literally bouncing off the walls while the song started taking shape. That was until they hit a wall a few hours into the session. You were seated outside on the back porch listening to Shawn and Khalid complain about the bridge.

Shawn ran his hands through his hair,  “What should we do with the bridge?” 

“Not sure.” Khalid answered leaning his head on the chair, staring up at the sky. 

“Well,” you answered looking between the both of them. “How about repeating the pre-chorus and singing the chorus again but with more…..umph.” you waved your hands absentmindedly. At that moment Shawn looked at you like you had cured cancer. “That’s what the song is missing!” He instantly ran inside to tell everyone else, his excitement palpable. When he disappeared inside, Khalid turned to you a completely shocked. “Look at you” he smirked. You responded with a noncommittal shrug. “I’m just thinking about what might sound good. That’s all.”

A few hours and many takes later you sat in the studio with Shawn and Khalid listening to the song, or what had been done. It was 60% done and everyone was working tirelessly on the song. Shawn was in the booth laying down some vocals for the backing track and you were awe of his creative process. He was involved with every step from how the guitars sounded to the way the vocals were laid on top of each other. When you combined that with your brother’s penchant for letting go creatively, it was a match made in heaven. Their voices blended beautifully and the song was powerful while also being soft and thoughtful.

One thing you didn’t expect was to be so involved in the process. You thought you would sit in the room and watch everyone else work but Shawn kept asking you for your opinion on the song and how it sounded. Even though you weren’t musically included he made sure you were a part of the process The song felt like it was very much your song as much as it was Shawn’s and Khalid’s. 

By the time the song was done, it was way past midnight and the writers had long since gone home. It was just you, Shawn and you brother sitting outside listening to the faint crash of the waves. You sighed, breathing in the ocean air. “Why here? What was it about this space that made you want to record your album here?” 

“Just look at it” Shawn shrugged. “It can be really hard to slow down and be creative when you’re  being pulled in a thousand different directions, so it made sense to come somewhere where I could detach and really think about what I wanted this record to be.” In the corner of your eye, you could see Khalid nodding along. ‘Sometimes you need to detach, to get that creative energy back.” he added.

“Ah! So that’s why you were ignoring my calls.” you quipped. “Got it.” At that moment Shawn burst out laughing and soon enough all of you were laughing. When the laughter subsided, you sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes until you said “What are you going to call the song?” Shawn looked over at Khalid, “What do you think we should call it?” “I was thinking we call it something that reflects what the song is about. How about Youth?” he replied. “Seeing as it has to do with all the shit in the world taking away our youth.”

“I love it!” Shawn smiled and you had to admit that he had a gorgeous smile. It started at the corner of his mouth and lit up his entire face. You could tell that he was content in that moment. And you couldn’t help but feel the same. “I love it and I’m positive that everyone will too.”

You weren’t sure but you thought you could see Shawn blush.

3 MONTHS LATER. 

Shawn’s POV

“Shawn we need to think about who is coming on tour.” Andrew stated. You were in a meeting with your team about your upcoming tour and this was where you’d struggled. There were so many incredible artists you wanted to come on tour with you and it was a hard decision.

“What about Khalid?” 

Loads of names had been thrown around and Khalid’s was one that kept coming up. You knew that going on tour with Khalid would be unforgettable. He was one of your best friends and whenever you were together, you always had a great time. Your mind went back to the Youth recording session and eventually, your thoughts landed on his sister. Even though you’d only met her that one time, you couldn’t stop thinking about her. Apart from the fact that she was stunning, she was also hilarious, her laugh was contagious and anytime she laughed you found that you always started laughing along with her. She was also thoughtful. She’d said that she wasn't musically inclined but having her in the studio meant you had a different perspective and could look to her when you needed a fresh set of ears. She had left an impression and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to see her again. 

“Shawn!” Andrew was waving a hand in front of your face. “Should I make the call?” You nodded enthusiastically. “I would love to have Khalid on tour.”

——————————————————————————————-

Going on tour with Khalid was one of the best things you could have done. You loved what you did for a living and having one of your best friends with you made it even better. It felt good to tour with someone who was your age and could relate to you more than most. 

This was easily the most fun you’d had on tour, it didn’t even feel like he was opening for you. It was just as much his tour as it was yours and the fans loved him. Every night before your set you’d stand on side stage and listen to them sing every word and scream just as loud for his as they did for you. 

When the show was over, you’d both sit in your dressing and talk, sometimes about the show, sometimes about new music that you were both working and other times about your personal lives. You listened intently anytime he brought up his sister. You tried to ask as many questions as you could about her without sounding weird or desperate but you wanted to know about her. From your conversations, you knew that Khalid had a great relationship with his sister, not unlike yours and Aaliyah’s. And that was when you had a brilliant idea, 

“We should invite our family to the last show.” You were almost done with this leg of the tour and it only made sense to have your nearest and dearest with you to close the show. “We could fly everyone out, including your sister.” The second you said those words you wanted to take them back. You didn’t know if Khalid knew about your crush on his sister and even if he did, you didn’t want to make it obvious, but based on the looks he was giving you, it was too late for that. You knew based on the look he was giving you that everything you felt was written on your face. 

“My sister?” he said with a smirk. “It would be pretty cool to have her come to one of the shows.” 

“Yeah.” you cleared your throat in an attempt to calm the rush of emotion you felt whenever her name was brought up. “Not just her though, having your whole family here is bound to be unforgettable.”

“But, you really want to see my sister.” he said with a raised eyebrow. 

“That obvious huh?” you felt your cheeks getting warm. 

“Dude. I could tell when you first met. You’re usually good with new people but you just kept staring at her and stumbling over your words.” he crowed, clearly taking pleasure in your discomfort.

You sighed. “I know I’ve only met her once, but there’s something different about her.” 

“Okay, I’m going to shut this conversation down.” Khalid said getting up from the couch he was sitting on “You are talking about my sister.” He started to walk out of the room but stopped at the threshold and turned before walking out “I’m sure she’d love to come to the show.”

——————————————————————————————-

You were nervous about this show. It was your last show of the European leg and you were playing in front of the largest audience yet.  You were suddenly aware of the fact that 20,000 people were currently filing up the o2 Arena in London but that wasn’t why you were nervous. It was because she was going to be watching. 

Khalid’s entire family and a lot of his friends had flown out for the show and had landed yesterday morning but you hadn’t seen her yet. You found yourself pacing the halls of the backstage area hoping to maybe catch a glimpse of her but you had no luck. You had an hour until the show started and you needed to get ready. You were about to walk to your dressing room when you heard her distinct laugh.

She rounded the corner with Khalid and their parents in tow laughing at something that her brother said. As if she sensed your presence she looked up and locked eyes with you and you felt a jolt of electricity go through you. 

“Hi Y/N.” you smiled her. “H-how was your flight?”

She returned your smile. “Our flight was great.” she indicated to her parents who you’d forgotten to acknowledge. You quickly rectified your mistake and gave each of them a hug. 

“Are you excited for the show?” you asked. 

“So excited.” Y/N responded. “It’s been a while since I heard Khalid sing, and this would be the first time seeing you perform.

“Thanks.” you replied, feeling even more nervous than you did a few hours ago. “I- I hope you guys have a great time.” You were about to say something else but you heard your tour manager Cez call you name letting you know that you needed to get ready.

“Sorry. I’ve got to go,” you apologised as you started running towards your dressing room. “but I’ll see you after the show!” you called over your shoulder, which wasn’t the smartest idea as you lost your footage and slipped almost falling face-first with the concrete floor but luckily you caught yourself. You turned around to see Y/N laughing so hard that she had to wipe the tears from her eyes.  You felt yourself blush as you tried to play off your embarrassment. “Enjoy the show guys!” you waved awkwardly as you walked away but you smiled as you heard her, “You’re going to be amazing Shawn.”

Reader’s POV

The concert was amazing. You always loved seeing your brother perform, he always got lost in the music. He loved to perform and the fact that he got to do it every night filled you with joy. He’d always send you demos of songs he was writing and Free Spirit was the one that stuck with you. It was surreal hearing him sing it in London of all places and seeing 20,000 sing his words back to him brought tears to your eyes.

By the time Shawn got on stage the screams were deafening and while you knew he was a good singer you weren’t expecting was how energetic he was on stage. You couldn’t help but scream and jump when he yelled at the crowd to do so. It was easily one of the best nights you’d had in a long time.

When Shawn and Khalid both sang Youth and you were instantly transported back to when you were in the studio while they recorded it. You felt a sense of pride hearing it bounce around the arena. Even though you didn’t write it, you had a hand in the process, albeit a very small one and you were proud of it.

When the show ended you were standing backstage with your parents and your brother when Shawn came up behind you. “Hey Shawn.” you said turning around to face him 

“Hey Y/N. What did you think of the show?” 

“Absolutely incredible!” 

His cheeks warmed at the compliment turning a shade of soft pink. “Wow Y/N thanks. So um-I was- um.” he stuttered, running his hands through his hair. “A couple of us are going for drinks in a few to celebrate the end of the tour leg. Would you like to come?”

You stared at him for a few minutes enjoying his nervous twitching before answering

“I’d love to.”

Taglist

@justbeingoceana @rulerofnocountry @bugheadfanatic @thotmendes @mani-lifes @sinplisticshawn @shawnssnack @sean-mendezzzzz @momenraul @tisvanessa @zionsvalentine

[iwantthedean]

Delicate

Prequel to Malibu.

Summary: Y/N hasn’t been seen in public for a while, and when she finally ventures out to a songwriter’s retreat, she and Jensen make a special connection.  Pairing: Jensen x Reader Word Count: 1615 Warnings: Infidelity, drinking.  Song Inspiration: Delicate - Taylor Swift Square Filled: BTZ Bingo; Vacation

A black town car pulled up to the front of the hotel and parked outside the automatic doors. Jensen slid his room key from the counter and peeked out the doors to see who would be coming out of the town car. 

“I’ll be damned,” he muttered under his breath, slapping the room key against his hand a few times. 

He knew that there were several songwriters he was familiar with on this retreat, but he didn’t know that Y/N Y/L/N was going to be here. He had tracked her career for a while, until recently when a nasty breakup had essentially sent her into hiding. For all Jensen knew, this was the first time she had been anywhere near public in months. 

“Checking in under Devereaux,” she told the desk attendant. Her dark sunglasses hid her eyes; her voice was meek and tired. Feeling Jensen’s eyes on her, she looked his direction and raised her brow. “Can I help you?”

He cleared his throat. “Sorry. I just — I’m Jensen. Ackles, Jensen Ackles. Here for the writer’s retreat. I’m assuming you are, too?”

She stared at him for a moment, his arm outstretched, hand waiting to shake hers. Her tongue snuck lightly across her lips and she reached to remove her sunglasses. 

“Ms. Devereaux? Your room card.”

Y/N’s attention veered from Jensen, and her hand dropped away from her sunglasses. She cleared her throat. “Thank you. Can I have an extra pillow sent up to my room, please?”

The desk clerk nodded. Y/N took one last glance at Jensen, then she was gone, disappearing around a left turn that would guide her toward the elevators. 

Jensen chided himself for a not-so-smooth interaction, dawdled long enough for Y/N to get on an elevator, then took that same left turn and headed for his own room. 

After lunch time, the songwriters all gathered in a conference room. Y/N was no where to be seen, and Jensen tried to stop himself from looking around for her while the leader of the retreat gave an inspirational opening speech. Most people in the room were familiar with each other, so they skipped the introductions and broke off into groups to start working on projects. 

“If I apologize for the semi-awkward interaction at the front desk earlier, do you wanna work with me?” Jensen looked up to see Y/N holding a spiral notebook to her chest; a pen was tucked behind her ear. “Damn, kinda feels like high school again. Awkward girl who nobody really likes asking the popular guy to be her lab partner.”

Jensen gave her half of a charming smile. “I’m not sure you’ve assigned roles correctly, but at any rate, count me in. We could stay here, hit the beach, whatever you wanna do.”

She bit her bottom lip, letting on how nervous she truly felt. “Would you be opposed to finding a bite to eat? I came straight off a flight, napped, and I’m a little hungry. I don’t work so well on an empty stomach.”

“We could try room service. There’s a great view from the balcony of my room.”

Her nervous expression shifted to that of disgust. “Forget it.”

She turned on her heel, tension pulling her shoulders together. Jensen was out of his seat and catching up to her before she even reached the door of the conference room. 

“That’s not what I meant, I’m sorry. Look, you can bring whoever with you — but I can see the ocean and the beach from my room, I thought it might be conducive to the creative process.”

Y/N drew in a deep breath before slowly exhaling. “I’m sorry — my misunderstanding. Everyone’s been on me for so much shady shit lately, I just assumed …”

Jensen held up his hands. “Nothing shady, Y/N. I promise. Just a couple songwriters, enjoying food and trying to make a hit.”

The nerves returned, but she nodded and followed Jensen to his room. They ordered a smorgasbord of fresh fruits and veggies to start with, along with a couple of cheeseburgers. 

“Fuel for the mind,” Y/N laughed. 

Jensen licked his lips in an effort to hide his own smile. This was the first time he had ever seen her laugh, heard it firsthand, and the sound endeared her to him even more. At least this gave him a reason, as oppose to the moment she had stepped out of that town car and piqued his interest. 

Y/N groaned and set her head against the table on the balcony. Jensen sat across the table from her, guitar in his lap, fingers lazily falling over the strings.

“This isn’t working,” she sighed, sitting back in the chair. “We’ve been at this for, like, three hours, and we have nothing.”

“It’s not a race with the other songwriters, you know.”

She raised a brow. “So if we show up to the showcase in a few days and we have nothing, you’ll be completely fine with that?”

“First of all, we have three more days after today, second of all … are you saying you wanna break up?” Jensen teased. 

She gave a tense laugh. “Everything’s been such a mess lately. This is the first time I’ve left the house in I don’t even really know how long. I was broken down, I was shattered. I want to come back, but I need people to know that I came back strong.”

“I get that. I mean, me and my girl are good, but if we broke up — I’d probably be a mess. I think, anyway. We’ve been together so long, I wonder if sometimes we stay together out of habit.” He drifted off to his own thoughts for a couple of seconds, then cleared his throat. “But you know, endings just mean new beginnings. So maybe, let’s start there.”

Y/N nodded and picked up her pencil again. The struggle was still there, but at least by the time the sun was setting, they had a direction. 

“Let’s go to dinner,” Jensen suggested. “Take a break, have a drink or two. We can call it a day after that, or we can get back to it. Your call.”

“Sounds like a plan to me. You find a place, I’m going to change. If I’m going to be seen in public —”

“You’ve got to make a strong comeback,” Jensen finished for her. “I completely understand. Wouldn’t mind getting cleaned up myself. I’ll meet you in the lobby in an hour.”

Y/N left her notebook and pencil, but took her phone. Jensen stared at that notebook for several minutes after she left, tempted to read what else was in there, but he managed to refrain. 

Y/N was intoxicated by tacos, palomas, and Jensen. They ate their fill, asked for the drinks to keep coming, and talked like they were old friends, catching up after being apart for too long. 

“He didn’t deserve you,” Jensen said, before throwing back a shot of tequila. “No man who abandons a girl who can put away tacos like that and talk sports and sing like an angel deserves her.”

His words darkened the pink of her already flushed cheeks. “You’re too kind. I made mistakes, too. Everybody does.”

“Everybody does,” Jensen repeated, his eyes glassy as he looked at her. He was close to making a mistake, but he felt like he couldn’t stop himself. “We should come back here, every so often. It can be our place. We’ll write music and catch up and just forget the rest of the world.”

“That song’s already been written, I think.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. He recovered, finished off his beer, and held out a hand to her. “Dance with me, Y/N.”

She took a shot of her own, then slipped her hand into his. Jensen lead her to the makeshift dance floor — a patio where others were dancing to the acoustic melodies plucked out on a guitar — and wrapped one warm around the small of her back. She put an arm over his shoulders; their free hands clasped. They swayed back and forth together. 

“So, whaddya say? We come back here every now and then? To escape?”

Y/N cleared her throat. “My reputation’s kind of shit right now, so you must really mean that. But, you’ve also got someone. We can’t exactly make promises.”

Jensen nodded; she was right, of course, but that wasn’t going to stop him. Not tonight. He stopped their movement. Their clasped hands became interlaced fingers, dropped to their sides. Her free hand was at his waist now, and his was drawing his knuckles along her jawline. 

Seconds later, their lips were pressed together, soft and sweet but wanting. Neither one knew who had initiated the kiss, but both of them knew they wanted that kiss and more. Sober or otherwise, they wanted as much as the other could give. 

“Is it too soon to be doing this?” Jensen asked. “I don’t wanna — you’re fresh off of that breakup.”

“And you’re with her,” Y/N said, echoing her earlier statement. “So, I’d say this is a delicate situation.”

“Yeah. It is. What are we gonna do?” 

Y/N swallowed down every protest her mind insisted she make. She licked her lips again, tasting the Corona from Jensen’s lips, mixed with the tequila from the shots both of them had indulged. So many things could go wrong, if they continued in this moment — but there were also things that could go right. 

 Y/N kissed him again, a silent promise of nights that went beyond the one they shared now. 

The Whole Shebang: @illisea @ashleymalfoy @busybee612 @mrswhozeewhatsis @sherlock44 @ravenesque @feelmyroarrrr @atc74 @jensen-jarpad @theplaidshirtmadness @blacktithe7 @moonlessnight14 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @smoothdogsgirl @melbrandes @xtina2191 @spnbaby-67 @emoryhemsworth @goldenolaf25 @gabriels-trix @applesugar88 @rainflowermoon @deansgirl215 @thisismysecrethappyplace 

Jack Attack: @tiffanycaruso @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish 

Two for the Money: @jayankles @love-me-some-pie21 @akshi8278 @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @supernatural-jackles @adoptdontshoppets @moonxdance

[meadweos]

Hello! I’m Ellie, this is Dorcas and I hope you enjoy this trainwreck of a soft as all hell introduction to my babe. I’m super excited to be writing here okay byeeeeeeeee.

is that LILY JAMES wearing that HUFFLEPUFF scarf ? no, it appears to be DORCAS MEADOWES who happens to be a SEVENTH year and a MUGGLEBORN !! SHE is CISFEMALE, and i heard they’re COMPASSIONATE and BENEVOLENT but might also seem NAIVE and DAMAGED. they appear to be leaning towards the side of the ORDER, but this is a conversation we should be having somewhere else. ( ellie / nineteen / gmt / she/her )

TRIGGER WARNINGS : death, injury, hospital mention, dogs.

PART ONE. BASICS / MAGICAL FULL NAME & MEANINGS  : Dorcas ( GAZELLE ) Andromache ( MAN / BATTLE ) Meadowes ( LIVED IN OR NEAR A MEADOW. ) DATE OF BIRTH : November 16th. AGE : 17. ZODIAC SIGN : Scorpio. HEIGHT : 5 ft 7 in. EYE COLOR : Dark brown. LEFT OR RIGHT HANDED : Ambidextrous.  FAVORITE COLOR : Light blue / black. SCHOOL : Hogwarts. BLOOD STATUS : Muggleborn. WHAT ARE THEIR PARENTS JOBS? : Her mother was a stay-at-home tutor, and her father was a doctor. ( Her aunt is a therapist. Her uncle is a lawyer. ) DO THEY HAVE ANY MAGICAL BLOOD? : Not in her immediate family. Her fifth, twice removed, much, much older cousin is a wizard (of Emeric Switch fame! Imagine that!) HOW DID THEIR MAGIC FIRST MANIFEST ITSELF? : She wanted to talk to the dogs at the local pet store, and accidentally ‘phased’ through the door. She was found half an hour later just stroking a pitbull puppy which had latched itself onto her. YEAR : Seventh year. HOUSE : Hufflepuff. PATRONUS : Panda. ( THE PANDA IS A RESOURCEFUL ANIMAL, AND THOSE WITH IT AS A PATRONUS ARE THE SAME. THEY ARE GOOD AT USING WHATEVER IS AROUND THEM, AND INCREDIBLY CREATIVE AND BRIGHT. THEY ARE FRIENDLY AND WARM, AND MANY MAY GO TO THEM FOR ADVICE OR HELP, WHICH THE PANDA WILL WILLINGLY GIVE. THEY ARE A BIT OF A HEALER BY NATURE, ENJOYING COMPANY AROUND THEM AND USING IT TO ENHANCE THEMSELVES. THEY LOVE TO EXPLORE MANY AREAS OF KNOWLEDGE AND THE WORLD, TRYING TO BROADEN THEIR HORIZONS AND KEEP THEIR MINDS OPEN. ) BOGGART : Her father, sat in the same armchair he’d always loved. His head turned towards her as he tells her it was all her fault, and the room shrinks. UPDATED: Earlier, and for very good reason, I wrote a drabble centered around what her Boggart would be for a different roleplay. It’s different than what it is now, but I’m nevertheless extremely proud of it. You can read it here. AMORTENTIA : What is it about true love, dearest? What makes everyone go wild? Is it the prospect that someone, someone whole, and unflinching, is out there - waiting for you? Waiting for your embrace, your touch? Or is it just that they are tired - tired of making homes in people and receiving nothing back? You, though. You make homes in all manner of things. And, anyway, who decided homes can’t be humans? Who decided home is a stationary concept? That your heart can’t be held in the hands of many people, that it cannot be crushed and sewn back together in a matter of minutes? Who decided that love, that great big messy concept, has to be romantic? You are as messy in love as you are in life - that is to say, you build pieces of yourself from the people around you, from the pieces of themselves they give you. The skin beneath your ear? Composed of the whispers of secrets from your first boyfriend. Your nose? Your mother’s love. The inside of your wrist? The balm of Emmeline’s arms around your body, shielding you the only way she can.  No. It isn’t so impossible that love is greater than the romance. That love is so many more things. The Greeks of old always said there were many kinds of love. Eros. Agape. Philia. Storge. Ludos. Pragma. Philautia. It is these things that you, alone, recite in that dungeon. The cold seems to envelop you as you take in a breath, the tendrils of your senses magnifying. It can be overwhelming, you know, but you are not as surprised as you expect to be. Warmth, sinking between your fingertips, laps at your cheek, at your lips as you breathe out. It sticks to you, to your tongue. Like caramel and peanut butter, the batter of the cookies your aunt always makes, the s’mores that you made around the campfire just last week. Her hair, or is it her perfume (?) wafting in your direction - regardless, you stay rooted to your place. Daisies, growing wild, the way they had at home, in your back garden. The smell of old brick and something crumbling - that weird Dragonleather smell that stays in the air whenever Hagrid passes, the smell of bursting fireworks (that time that the Marauders hadn’t realized there was anyone still down the corridor) and butterbeer, warming. Your dogs breath, laughter bubbling up as you remark on the smell of toothpaste, on peppermint and mossy treebark.  You’re not surprised to smell all the things that make this place home - you’re not surprised to smell that it’s not made up of just one person - just one thing, fixable - but many. Moving parts that flare up and slide away into the background of your senses. WAND : Phoenix tail feather core. 9 inches. Black Walnut. PETS : Owl, named Athena. Also owns a pitbull, the light of her life, Agape ( LOVE AND AFFECTION ) or Aggie, for short. CHARACTER INSPIRATION : Cinderella, Sonya Rostova, Izzie Stevens, Craig Middlebrooks, Ann Perkins, Ella Lopez, Jess Day, Riley Matthews, Penelope Garcia, Kara Danvers, Capheus Onyango, and Jane Villanueva. ( CHARACTER TAG HERE. )

PART TWO. ARE YOU GOOD AT… DANCING? : I certainly try.  SINGING? : Yes! COOKING? : Somewhat. DUELING? : Never been better. STUDYING? : If my grades are anything to go by, yes. MAGIC? : Uh, I’d hope so.

PART THREE. HAVE YOU EVER… DRIVEN A CAR? : Yes. Not well, though. FALLEN IN LOVE? : … Yes. HAD SEX? : Yes. LAUGHED SO HARD YOU CRIED? : I don’t know anyone who enjoys their life who hasn’t. SMOKED? : ... No. DONE DRUGS? : Nope. BROKEN THE LAW? : Accidentally. KILLED SOMEONE? : No.

PART FOUR. LITTLE SECRETS BIGGEST FEAR : Losing everyone. And everything. SOMEONE YOU ADMIRE : Emme, McGonagall. SOMEONE YOU FEAR : I don’t really know. Dumbledore, when he’s mad. Whatever that ponce of a miserable Muggle hater is called. SOMEONE YOU MISS : Grandpa. Terry. My brother. Mum. Dad. SOMEONE YOU COULDN’T LIVE WITHOUT : Emme. Myself, too. SOMEONE YOU COULD KILL : Anyone who hates muggles. DO YOU WANT KIDS? : Maybe someday. DO YOU WANT TO GET MARRIED? : To the right person? Yeah. BIGGEST REGRET : Not sleeping in the same room as my brother that night. ( I could have saved him. I should have saved him. ) CAN YOU SEE THESTRALS? : Yes.

PART FIVE. FINISH THIS SENTENCE I AM… : Sleepy. Wishing Emmeline was here. I WISH… : Ice-cream could become a person. MAYBE ONE DAY… : I won’t feel this guilt anymore. SOMETIMES I… : Fall in love in the morning, and out of it by lunch. MY FAVOURITE SUBJECTS ARE… : Herbology. MY LEAST FAVOURITE SUBJECTS ARE… : History of Magic, Divination. IF I COULD DO IT AGAIN, I WOULD… : Save my brother. IF I COULD GO TO A DIFFERENT SCHOOL, I WOULD CHOOSE… : Beauxbatons, not Ilvermorny. IF I COULD CHOOSE A DEATHLY HALLOW, I WOULD CHOOSE… : The Stone. ( Say it like it isn’t a mantra, Dorcas. As though it isn’t something that’s poisoned your dreams since discovering those stories may be based in reality. )

PART SIX. MISCELLANEOUS

DESCRIBE THEIR AESTHETIC IN THREE WORDS : Sea, daisies, laughter. THEME SONG : Lavender’s Blue ( CINDERELLA SOUNDTRACK - 2015. ) / Sonya Alone ( BRITTAIN ASHFORD - NATASHA, PIERRE & THE GREAT COMET OF 1812 - ORIGINAL BROADWAY CAST RECORDING. ) / Times are Hard for Dreamers (Pop Version) ( PIPPA SOO - AMELIE - ORIGINAL BROADWAY CAST RECORDING. ) TOP FIVE SONGS IN THEIR ( MODERN ) PLAYLIST : You Are Enough - Sleeping at Last, Yellow - Coldplay, When I Kissed the Teacher - ABBA, Breathe - In The Heights, & Paradise - George Ezra. VINE THAT FITS THEM : ( x ) RANDOM HEADCANONS : 1. Dorcas loves deeply. Deeply, deeply, deeply. It’s intrinsic to who she is. She’s protective, maddeningly so, and unable to sit still. She wears her heart on her sleeve, and is a nightmare when it comes to pacing herself. She knows not of patience, or of taking time to breathe. She consists solely of love - a palace built between her ribs of the people that she loves. In this, she is a typical Taurus Hufflepuff. ( x ) 2. Dorcas lost her parents at a very young age. She doesn’t often speak of it - speak about them, about the parents that she lost and the brother that she was unable to save. They were killed in a home burglary turned murder spree when she was six. They’d been meant to go on holiday, but Dorcas had come down with the stomach flu, so they’d foregone the vacation when it spread to Dorcas’s younger sister, Calliope. The only reason that Dorcas survived was that she managed to climb beneath her bed with her younger sister Calliope facing the wall, only her back visible from the opening created by the duvet. She gets stabbed three times, one of those stab wounds narrowly avoiding piercing her spleen and the major abdominal arteries. She still has the scars on her lower back. Callie was uninjured, and she was the one who managed to get to the neighbors house (by climbing out of the window from the second floor and dropping at least eleven feet). Dorcas remembers, mostly, finding out her parents and brother were murdered. The rest of it often feels incredibly foggy. She went through therapy for a number of years before she was discharged from the North West Surrey Mental Health Trust. The nightmares, today, are infrequent, but some nights are worse than others. She often takes a calming draught before she goes to sleep - provided by Madame Pomfrey at the Hospital Wing.  3. Dorcas’s best friend in the universe is Emmeline Vance. They aren’t in the same house, but that doesn’t matter. They met at eleven, on the train to Hogwarts. Dorcas, with brown hair down to her hip, and Emmeline’s hair newly cut into a bob ( her parents had gone wild at her for that one, ) and that was it. The rest, as they say, is History. If you can’t find Dorcas, she’s usually with Emmeline. 60% of her spare time is spent wherever Emmeline is. They’re one another’s great loves. She doesn’t know what she’d be without Emme.  4. Dorcas wants to be a Herbologist or a Healer when she graduates. She’s not sure how likely that plan is to succeed with everything going on - how far she’ll get before she abandons it all to help the people that she wants to help, desperately. As it stands, 40% of her spare time is spent either in the Potions classroom or the Herbology classroom - Potions is a required course for becoming a Healer.  5. If this were a modern AU, Dorcas’d totally be a theater kid. She’d also be that kid that is always making scrapbooks - always half finishing projects, the one that has too many cacti and exotic plants in the corner of her room. She’d keep her phone on her, always, lockscreen always changing. She’d love bands like Little Mix and butcher the Spanish when she tried to sing songs like Despacito.  6. FUTURE: Dorcas manages to live through the Wizarding War ( well, mostly ) without casting the Killing Curse. She’s fast, she’s quick, and she doesn’t stand still. She’s often the one coming careening past the others, ducking beneath their outstretched arms as light - green, red, blue, yellow - is cast against the ground. She Apparates in and out, as though her being there is a mirage. People, injured, bystanders, disappear from where they’d been only seconds before, as soon as her hand secures around anywhere she can grip on. She works with trembling hands, to heal those that she can. Four separate times she manages to Apparate away from under Voldemort’s nose.  The first time is with her arm hooked under Fabian Prewett, his unconscious body bruised and the cut on his arm infected with what she suspects is a modified strain of the venom of the Venomous Tentacula. The second time is with a handful of wands - all belonging to fellow Order members. The third time is with Dedalus Diggle. He’s a handful, that time, splaying limbs, cracking as they twist around. They have a spell maker in their midst but Dorcas is the only one that can sooth the pain, to make it all more bearable while they try and fix it. The fourth time is with Emmeline. Emme’s far too headstrong for her own good, and knows how rare it is that Voldemort himself makes an appearance. Dorcas is the one that breaks Bellatrix’s focus - the Cruciatus curse trained on her best friend, on her Emmeline, flickers when Dorcas passes, a blur of black leather and hair tied up in a bun, bangs hanging low and the light long since dimmed in her eyes. When Emmeline comes to, the pain still ricochets through her bones, and Dorcas is powerless to help. It takes days for the aftershocks to fade. The faintest roar of rage is still heard in Dorcas’s brain. She’s just too slow, in the end, to save herself, although she doesn’t try. She’s not ready, but she is. She’s not happy, but she is. She knew there was only one way this could end. The one incapable of love striking down the one composed entirely of it is the only end that makes sense in a world at war - in a world in which war stories are not one of morals. War stories are made of absolute and uncompromising allegiance to obscenity and evil. It just takes her years to realize. Years to reconcile. Being soft does not make her immune to this. Being alive doesn’t. She is happy, but it is not a happy ending. No - it’s a very sad beginning.

[bluebipples]

Mora/Bean is Canon

(but I’m not sure about Endgame)

A very (very) long, unnecessary post. I’d like to start this off by saying bisexuality is consistently erased in the tumblr community, but this isn’t about if bean is bi or a lesbian because it literally does not matter 

*ahem* Also, spoilers if you haven’t watched season 3 because, i don’t know, you probably have a life

anyway, there’s lots of speculation on whether or not Bean’s romance with Mora was a dream or not, and I’m here to give you the (probably) definitive answer (and throw a wild guess at the next season).

To begin with, Disenchantment is no stranger to foreshadowing. In fact, rewatching the show a few times you notice that the writers practically laid everything out in front of us the entire time. It’s actually admirable from a writer’s perspective, imo, but I’m not here to cream my pants over the writers. An example of their consistent foreshadowing would begin in the very first episode, when a blimp is seen in the far background of one of the scenes over some mountains. This would later be explained by the introduction of Steamland, which became a pinnacle location to the plot in seasons 2 and 3. There are plenty more examples, but I’d rather save it for the ones I’ve found in season 3. (And, one could argue, Bean asking a hot mermaid to nibble her earlobes was foreshadowing her later romance with one, but, hey, who am i to over-speculate)

Now, for the juicy stuff, as well as some artistic appreciation. Was anyone else absolutely in love with the ocean scenery? Like, somebody popped the fuck off in the background department bc hot damn. Don’t worry, I promise, this is extremely relevant. 

(excuse the thing in the top left) This is the sky a few hours after they’d left Steamland, meaning it’s early morning / sunrise. Holy shit, I nearly cried when I saw this scene. This is goddamn beautiful. The clouds? The blending? The bright coloration? Who the fuck did this??? How do I give them money??

Sorry for the lack of a consistent timeline, but I didn’t get a good shot of the sky in the same day afternoon shot, so, here’s the afternoon sky before Bean and Elfo crash.

And this delightful pink son of a bitch is the sunset, into which our ladies rode with my heart soaring. At this point, I had to pause to search ‘disenchantment’ on tumblr to see if it was gay and sure enough the top image was mora and bean kissing. i love this hellhole.

Now, why the hell are skies relevant, my friends? Well (I’m starting to realize this is another fucking dumb sky post like that one that’s 10 years long but this is worse because I’m losing my mental sanity to prove half an episode in a 3 season cartoon actually happened)

This would be when the ‘dream’ starts, which is after Bean hits her head, and presumably, late afternoon. Swimming with your mermaid girlfriend underwater all the way to Mermaid Island probably takes some time, so they get there by, say, sunset maybe?

yes, i use subtitles, i do not have a good attention span. So, yeah, maybe sunset-ish, or like, really late afternoon. 

and, of course, our wildest sapphic fantasies come true. again, excuse the subtitles. 

Here’s the juicy juicy shit that real good-good. Please stay with me.

The lyrics to Mora’s song:

They say that you’re a drowner

And we’re parted by the sea

But I can keep you floating

If you just hold on to me

I’ll keep you safe, I’m on your team

And when it feels like just a dream

Believe it’s true

Because I do

And someday if there’s a war

On some not-so-distant shore

And lines are drawn

I’m never gone

This star’s your guide

And I am always on your side

Well, well, well, how the dots have connected and my gay brain is spiraling. Not only am I swooning, but I’m also itching with theories. Lots of ‘em. I’m about to give MatPat a run for his money. 

First, I wanna get out there that if you tell me Bean’s subconscious could have written that song, you are incorrect. Bean is a lot of things, but... creative isn’t exactly one of them. There’s an entire episode dedicated to how bad she as at writing creatively (unless it’s about her familial issues): season 2, episode 8: In Her Own Write.

So, ‘when it feels like just a dream / believe it’s true’ sounds a whole lot like we’re being told something. Or, Bean is, but she’s not great at picking up hints. Another fact we are shown again and again and again. 

‘Someday if there’s a war / On some not-so-distant shore’ I mean, this shouldn’t be so hard to point out. Kinda seems like Dreamland is in a bit of a tizzy right now, huh? I mean, what with the Elves learning that the Trøgs are direct descendants of their forgotten ancestors that adapted to living underground overtime and- oh- wait- did that not get revealed yet?

Well, let me do you a think by referencing Skyrim because that’s the easiest example I can think of. There are these ugly bitches that ruin my entire day every time I encounter them called the Falmer that dwell underground that were once Snow Elves, but had adapted to living underground after, you guessed it, the arrival of... goddamn nords/humans (a few centuries after, but still). Large eyes with poor vision, bigger ears to make up for that lack of vision, and a more grey skin pallor from, y’know, living underground. I won’t give you a lecture on evolution, because this is already super duper long. Kinda wild that Disenchanted would take a commonly used Fantasy trope like creatures colonized by humans adapting to life underground, it’s almost like the whole show is to poke fun of overdone fantasy tropes.

And, of course, it’s revealed that the Lost Kingdom of the Elves is underneath Dreamland, directly where the Trøgs dwell. It doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots. Elves have hidden themselves in this world - remember, Elfo was the first elf since Leavo to leave Elfwood in years. So let me spin you a yarn about a well-known tale called Colonization. I’m sure we all know where this is going. Clearly, not all of the elves stayed underneath Dreamland. Judging by how many Trøgs there are in relation to how many elves, I assume less than or around half of the elf population managed to evacuate Dreamland while those who remained took to living in the shadows. We’ve seen the conditions of their underworld, and, well, one can assume they went a bit nutty along the way. I’m sure the mushroom spores didn’t help.

Then, there’s the prophecy. Bean, Elfo and Luci are the saviors of the Trøgs.

‘Lines are drawn’ - after Bean is crowned Queen Bean (lol) she and Elfo drift apart. He obviously feels abandoned by her, and even if he did sacrifice himself for Dreamland, I’m certain he won’t be killed. I’m on that wonderful conspiracy train that the Ogre Queen is his mother, but that’s another story for another day though it’s somewhat related. Needless to say, if the Elves declare war on Dreamland, lines will certainly be drawn. And, I recall my statement above: Bean, Elfo and Luci are the saviors of the Trøgs. I’d count it as ‘saving’ them if they reunite with their cousins, the Elves, and take back the kingdom that once belonged to them; wouldn’t you?

‘I’m never gone / This star’s your guide / And I am always on your side’ This is a callback to a few things in this episode. Mora tells Bean that the heart of the Big Flipper leads to Mermaid Island, as Bean recalls when she is given the necklace Mora made for her. So, that’s another double nudge-nudge wink-wink from the writers (a joke they also made consistently this season, making me feel aggressively mocked. so i have powerpoints on this show, now, and nothing to do with them.) 

Anyway, if the Elves and Trøgs do succeed in taking over Dreamland, Mora has explicitly stated that Bean has an ally in her - and, of course, the mermaids. So, looking too deeply into a song written by a fictional mermaid for her equally fictional girlfriend aside, let’s move on to more obvious evidence.

Bean then wakes up on the beach to Elfo saying nobody wanted to help them, , yadda yadda, it was clearly a dream, right?

(yes, I wanted to get the caption that made me cry. now you have to be sad, too.) except, wait a second, that’s a goddamn morning sky. And, beyond that, the very next episode which continues off from Bean and Elfo walking back to Dreamland, it’s also morning and leads right into the rest of the same day. well, shit me a brick. chronologically, it makes sense for this to have not been a dream.

and, naturally, the nail in the coffin. There it is, the necklace, right there in front of our fat faces. I’m sure you’re wondering how Bean can sleep through swimming underwater for presumably hours, but, hey, tHAT’S JUST A TH-

In conclusion, the Disenchantment writers make it a point to give us not-so-subtle hints (mostly in the background) towards future plots. This seemingly innocuous, what, ten minutes of a sapphic fantasy come true could be an incredibly important plot point. It’s not the first time they’ve used a small storyline to pull the strings together for a far bigger one - they literally do it every season, multiple times. My evidence towards Mora and Bean having a real romance stems from the design of the sky backgrounds that clearly show the passage of time throughout the episode (and show), as well as the fact that Mora’s necklace washes up on shore not long after Bean wakes up. Along with this presented evidence, I believe the Elves are going to try and overthrow Dreamland (just like, basically, every other kingdom or secret society in this show) and Bean will have to figure out for herself if Mora really is waiting for her on Mermaid Island. As for what else Season 4 has in store, I have lots of other theories but for the 4 people who read this, I shall not disclose.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk, and I am so very sorry.

Also, here’s a bonus pic of the ocean scenery.

(luci voice) who did that?

[5hfanfiction]

you're somebody else

“I tried to tell myself, maybe you’re right. That maybe you didn’t change, but the way I see you. I thought about your words over and over again, hoping I’d figure out why you said that, but I couldn’t, because you’re wrong, Lauren. You did change so please stop lying to yourself. That’s not you, that’s not the Lauren I met in the coffee shop years ago”

(trigger warning: mention of drugs and violence)

She was still awake, laying in her bed with opened eyes when she heard the lock of their old apartment. She didn’t know what time it was, but it was too late for Lauren to come home. According to the noise the older girl was making outside of their apartment she wasn’t sober enough to actually find the lock with her keys, so Camila stood up with an annoyed sigh. While the other girl still struggled with opening the door Camila took her time and looked at her phone first, Lauren always let Camila wait before she came home so now Camila could let her wait a little before she opened the door. It had already been 2:41am but it wasn’t surprising, it got worse every day. Surprising was only the fact, that Lauren still came home at all. The reality was, Camila waited for the night where Lauren would go. It wasn’t that she didn’t love the other girl because she did. Admittedly, she loved Lauren more than herself, but maybe that wasn’t enough anymore. Lauren rather spent all her nights outside god knows where, while Camila was busy all day with work so that at least one of them could pay the bills.

Of course, it wasn’t always like that. When Camila met Lauren in college she wasn’t a lost girl. No, quite the opposite, she helped Camila to find herself. It didn’t take her long to realize that Lauren was a glib person, the way she talked with so much passion behind it made it easy for Camila to listen to Lauren ranting about politics and laws all day. Back in high school, Camila hated talking with her classmates about these things, but with Lauren it was something else. Lauren knew what she was talking about. Moreover, she had no problem with speaking out loud and Camila was glad she didn’t, because that was one of the things why Camila fell so deeply in love with her. Lauren was the kind of girl that just caught your attention, so no one can blame Camila for falling.

Camila just entered a small cafe uptown when she got a phone call from the friend she was supposed to meet. “What do you mean, you can’t come?” She asked a little too loud after her friend, Normani, explained why she was calling. “How am I supposed to write an essay about the political view of a person that isn’t here?”

“I’m so sorry, Camila” Normani spoke. “It’s an emergency. But hey you know me long enough, you don’t need me there,” She continued convinced.

“Yes, okay. I’ll come up with something.” She said, more to herself than to her friend and ended the call. The truth was, she didn’t know enough about politics for her own assignment, what was kind of sad.

She looked around and immediately noticed that this place was full and her first instinct told her to turn around, and go but she couldn’t go back to her dorm, because her annoying roommate was there with her jerk of a boyfriend, probably doing things Camila didn’t want to know about.

Her eyes scanned the room and the girl found a seat that hadn’t been taken yet, so she made her way over and smiled at the girl that was already sitting across. “Hey, is it okay if I take this seat?” She asked kindly, but the other girl didn’t even look up from the book in front of her and just nodded slowly.

Camila rolled her eyes but took it as a yes. She laid her stuff down and ordered a black coffee before she went back and took her laptop out of her bag. She opened a new document and easily wrote an introduction to her project, and tried to write the rest without Normani but failed after a few boring sentences. She deleted them again and took a sip of her coffee. “Stupid law students” She cursed under her breath and this seemed to catch the attention of the girl sitting across from her. She looked up from her book, with a raised eyebrow and Camila didn’t know she was being watched until the girl spoke.

“We haven’t talked yet, and you’re already insulting me?” She asked with a slight grin.

Camila looked up from her laptop and only now saw that, the book the other girl was reading, was the same book Normani used for some of her classes. Her cheeks turned red and she nervously bit her bottom lip. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry” She quickly said. “I wasn’t talking about you, I mean, I didn’t know you were a law student. How would I, you know, we just-”

The girl cut her off and Camila was thankful because knowing herself this rambling wouldn’t have stopped anytime soon, she was a very talented rambler, in awkward situations. “It’s fine, I’m just teasing, I know that we don’t know each other, so I’m trying not to take this personally.”

Camila looked at the girl in front of her. She didn’t seem like a law student, it was not that she really believed in stereotypes, especially not in college but the girl just seemed more like someone who went to an art school or did something with music, something creative. Camila had never been good at guessing those things anyway so she banished this thought of her mind and rather thought about the fact that there was a gorgeous girl sitting across from her.

She had green eyes that were piercing through Camila’s, long black hair and skin like a porcelain doll, with red full lips.

“Cat got your tongue?” The other girl cut her off of her trance.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Camila asked embarrassed, she totally got caught staring.

“What’s your name?”

“Camila” She responded, trying everything to hide that her cheeks were turning red.

“Okay Camila, so what do you have against us law students?” The green-eyed girl wanted to know, she still smiled so Camila hoped that this was just an attempt to make a small talk and not a start for a heated discussion.

“I have nothing against you,” She lied a little, she wasn’t a fan of lawyers but this was more about her parents. “Someone just canceled our plans and now I’m praying that she goes to hell, because she was supposed to help me with my project.”

The girl laughed and it was a sound that made Camila’s heartbeat fasten, she just hadn’t noticed this yet. “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh.”

“It’s fine.” Camila smiled, hoping this wouldn’t be the last time she heard that laugh. “So what’s your name? Or should I keep calling you ‘stupid law student’ because it seems to get your attention?”

There was another laugh. “Oh, so you wanna get my attention, huh?” Camila nodded without thinking, she wasn’t a confident person, but something told her if she didn’t take this chance, she wouldn’t get another one. “I’m Lauren,” She introduced herself. “So what is that project you can’t do without someone as important as me?”

This time it was Camila’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Important as you, wow. Law student and cocky, what a cliché” She chuckled. “It’s just a simple interview about your opinion to some of our 'special’ laws,” She said while forming quotation marks with her fingers. “Interested in helping me out?”

“Why one of us though? I’m pretty sure everyone can tell you that a special law like a person isn’t allowed to cross the state lines of Minnesota with a duck atop of their head is a stupid law.” She stated.

Camila rolled her eyes playfully, with a smile on her face. “Really? That’s a thing?” Lauren nodded. “I guess on my next vacation I’ll go to Minnesota so that I can break this law,” She joked.

“But seriously, I wasn’t talking about these kind of laws,” She answered Lauren’s questions. “And I’m asking one of you because you belong to the people who represent our laws.”

“I see, you’re a criminal. But please don’t get caught until I get my license, it feels like you’d be an interesting first case.” She winked. “Coming back to your question, I’d like to help you out”

They hadn’t even worked on this project for 15 minutes, before they switched the topic and talked about more important things, that were actually relevant. Lauren had more to say than Camila, but she didn’t mind though, she liked to hear what the other girl had to say. She listened closely, watching every time she was gesticulating with her hands because she started talking about something that really passionated her. They stayed there for hours even though it felt like only short minutes. For Camila, a few hours were enough to get drawn by Lauren, so she didn’t wanna leave when the time came.

“I’m sorry,” Camila smiled sadly, when she looked at the time and saw that she had to go and meet her parents, they didn’t like unreliability and she wasn’t at a point where she could disappoint them. “I gotta go.”

“No, I’m sorry! It seems like I wasn’t a great help for your project,” Lauren replied, eyes looking at the laptop Camila had closed, a long time ago.

“You helped me more than you think, Lauren,” She stood up and packed her things. “I really enjoyed listening to you,” She said honestly. “And believe me, I’d stay if I could. But-”

“You can’t.” The green-eyed girl finished her sentence. “It’s probably better, I have to catch up a little since someone thought it’s a good idea to distract me” She smiled, holding up her book.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” Camila apologized.

“I’m just teasing,” Lauren told her, with a grin. It was this moment where Camila knew she wouldn’t forget about Lauren, so before she left, she slipped her number under Lauren’s book, hoping that Lauren felt the same as she did.

Lauren answered that same day and Camila couldn’t have been happier. She wouldn’t say it was love at first sight, because she didn’t believe in those things, but she would say that Lauren made it easy for her to fall quickly. Camila was one of those people, who couldn’t tell when someone was flirting with them or just being friendly so she assumed Lauren was being the second. She believed this until Lauren kissed her for the first time, of course, she didn’t expect this move, but it didn’t stop her from kissing Lauren back. It wasn’t a fairytale kiss, but it was perfect with every second that passed by. Camila remembered this kiss like it was her first, and theoretically it was her first kiss, at least the first kiss where she felt like she thought she had to feel when she met the right person. They dated only for a few weeks, before Camila couldn’t hold back the urge to ask Lauren if she wanted to be her girlfriend. It was cheesy when Camila asked her and she was scared that she ruined the moment with one of her corny jokes, but when Lauren kissed her and said yes with a laugh she knew she did everything right. A little time passed by until Lauren wanted to introduce Camila to her parents and although Camila had never been good with parents Lauren’s parents loved her right from the start. Their first problems began only then, when Lauren started asking questions about Camila’s parents. The only things Lauren knew about them is that they lived in New York and the obvious fact that Camila didn’t visit them a lot. Camila had her reasons not to tell Lauren about them, because she knew it wouldn’t change anything and she knew she could never tell them about Lauren, not as long as she depended on them. They weren’t happy when they heard that she didn’t study what they wanted her to, but after a lot of arguing they gave in under some conditions because they knew their daughter was talented and could be successful with everything, as long as she put an effort in it. So Camila had to go Harvard, because of the family’s tradition and she wasn’t even allowed to think about a relationship unless it could be useful for their company in some kind of way, it wouldn’t be the first time but Camila did everything as long as they didn’t hold her back from doing what she loved, writing. Camila hated that her parents were able to cause her and Lauren’s first fight, but she realized it was her own fault when Lauren accused her that she wasn’t serious about them.

“I am serious about us,” She told Lauren, searching for her eyes but Lauren kept looking at the floor. “Please, Lauren,” She begged the other girl. “Look at me!”

Lauren just shook her head. “Camila,” She slowly started. “I’m not forcing you to introduce me to them. I know it’s not easy for everyone to just go up to their parents and say hey that’s my girlfriend. But do I not deserve a reason why? Just something like 'they don’t know I’m gay’ or 'I’m not ready yet’, it’s fine when you’re not ready, okay, but you never said you aren’t and everytime I’m trying to talk with you about them, you just shut me out.”

Camila took a deep breath and sat down on the couch while she played nervously with her hands. “It’s not that I’m not ready, because I am, but they aren’t. Look, my parents are very strict and if they knew I’m in a relationship they’d tell me to end it, but if they knew I was in a relationship with a girl it would end up much more complicated. They’d probably force me to see a doctor because they think I’m sick or even worse, stop paying my bills. I can’t risk that.” She explained everything to Lauren and that was all Lauren needed. She sat down next to Camila and took her hand.

“I’m sorry, Camila.” She apologized and kissed her cheek softly.

They dropped this sensitive topic and Lauren accepted that she wouldn’t meet Camila’s parents anytime soon, but it was okay after Camila explained everything to her, she wasn’t even sure anymore if she really wanted to meet them. It wasn’t until one year later that Camila brought them up on her own. She wanted that they finally get to know Lauren, what they couldn’t know was just the simple fact that Lauren wasn’t a friend, but her girlfriend and that for almost two years now.

They once again wanted Camila to attend a charity gala with them and when Camila asked them whether she could use the opportunity to introduce them to Lauren, of course, they didn’t mind after she mentioned she was a law student in Harvard, Lauren was like the daughter they wanted to have but didn’t get. But the fact that Lauren didn’t know anything about her parent’s remanded so it was time that Camila told her they were very successful lawyers in New York. Not just any lawyers but her mother was the co-founder of Estrabao Pearson, one of the most known law offices there.

Lauren was a nervous wreck when the night came and Camila couldn’t calm her down. Camila thought it was cute, but she knew it wasn’t the right time. It took them both four hours to get ready and two of them were just to make sure that Lauren wouldn’t have another breakdown. Camila’s nerves were only then going crazy when they entered the building where the event took place. She could feel her heartbeat fasten with every step she took, but one look to her left side was enough to ease her. Lauren looked stunning in her black dress and her parents would be impressed once they talked to her and realized that she not just looked good but was smart as well. The main reason why Camila wanted to take Lauren with her was that she wanted her parents to meet her, because Lauren was important to her, the other reason was that she wanted to help Lauren’s career. It wasn’t any of her business, but she wanted to give Lauren an opportunity, it was only Lauren’s decision, whether she took it or not.

They were running late but Camila would take the blame for that. The room was full of people and it took her a little until she could recognize her parents in the crowd. She hated those things when she was younger and sometimes it still felt like all these strange people would trigger her anxiety, and she’d get a panic attack any moment. But she had to get used to it, because her parents simply didn’t care what she had to accept, whether she wanted to or not.

When she finally found them she grabbed Lauren’s hand and went up to them. They were talking to some man in an expensive tuxedo that seemed important, so Camila silently waited behind the man. Her father already noticed them and when his gaze went down to Lauren and Camila’s intertwined hands the smile he wore disappeared until Camila automatically let go and hid her hands behind her back. Her father looked away again and she turned with an apologetical smile to Lauren, who smiled and nodded as a silent “I understand”.

When they were finally done talking and the man disappeared they kissed her daughter’s cheek as a greeting. “Karla, I’m glad you’re here, we already thought you couldn’t make it,” Her mother said with a stern voice.

“I’m sorry we are late, I had a little problem with my dress,” She lied easily and her parents seemed to buy it.

“What did I tell you, dear,” Her mother scowled. “Don’t eat so much. I know you feel like your stomach is like a black hole but if you aren’t careful you’ll look like that too and then of course you’ll get these problems.”

“I’m sorry, ” She said again, holding back an eye-roll. Years ago these words would’ve made her insecure about herself, but by now she was used to it and could ignore it, because she knew her mother was wrong. “Anyway. This is the friend I told you about, Lauren Jauregui.”

She turned to the other girl who looked a little taken aback but brushed it off quickly.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Cabello Estrabao,” She greeted them politely and shook their hands. “It’s nice to meet you!”

“'It’s nice to meet you as well!” Camila’s father spoke. “Please call me Alejandro, and my wife Sinuhe,” He smiled friendly and continued without wasting any time. “Camila told us a few things about you.”

“She did?” Lauren asked, confused.

“Yes, she told us a little about your school and things you stood up for in the past,”

For a moment Camila could see how it made click for Lauren and she swore she could see the other girl being hurt, but the look on her face disappeared as quickly as it came. “Well, there are not many ways to change things as just a law student, but everyone has a voice they can and should use,” She told them. “I wanna be a lawyer so I can use my voice to help the guiltless, when their own voice isn’t enough anymore. When people do other people wrong they tend to believe that they did something wrong subconsciously. So they get weaker, they stop offering opposition, they acknowledge defeat and I’ve never been someone who could watch that from the sideline.”

“You have a plan. You know what you do and you know why. I like that.” Sinuhe spoke for the first time. “Why don’t we talk a little more about what will happen after?” The woman offered and Lauren nodded.

Camila knew that look on Lauren’s face, she smiled but it wasn’t sincerely. Lauren didn’t want this evening to go like this and Camila knew it was all her fault but now it was too late and the only thing she could do was standing by Lauren’s side until it was over.

Lauren talked with her parents for what felt like centuries and they only stopped because her father could see an important business partner entering the room.

Camila excused herself and Lauren to the bathroom, and led their way without looking back. “Your friend? You didn’t tell them about us, did you?” Lauren asked when the bathroom door was closed and they made sure no one else was in there.

“Lauren, I’m so sorry. I wanted to, really. But I knew I couldn’t tell them, so I had to find a way how they would want to meet you anyway.”

“It’s fine.” Lauren smiled at her and Camila was surprised that Lauren didn’t seem to mind.

“You aren’t upset?”

Lauren shook her head. “No, you already told me about your parents, so I understand. I appreciate that you wanted to introduce me to them, but you know that you don’t have to right? It felt more like a job interview and I doubt that it was what you wanted.”

“I know.” Camila confirmed. “But I wanted to.” She grabbed Lauren’s face and stroked her cheek. “I love you, Lauren. And I want the whole world to know, believe me. But if I tell my parents now, I’d be a dead girl.” She half-joked. “And it wouldn’t help you. That doesn’t mean that I don’t want them to meet the amazing person you are though. I know you, Lauren, I know they’ll love you as long as they don’t know you are dating their daughter.”

“But what if I don’t want them to love me without the most important part of me, you. I don’t care who your parents are and whether they can help me or not. What I care about is you, so if you feel ready for telling them, don’t let me stop you. You come first, not my career. I’m not stupid,” She grinned. “I know, you wanted to help me, but that’s not the kind of help I need.” She said, her voice getting softer before she connected their lips.

“Karla!” Her mother called her and ruined their moment when she opened the bathroom’s door. They quickly separated before they could get caught by Camila’s mother and when she saw them they acted like nothing happened.

“Yes, mother?” Camila answered.

“You remember Mr. Bale’s son?” Camila nodded and her mother continued. “He asked about you, don’t you think it would be nice if you danced with him?” Camila knew it was a demand but she couldn’t leave Lauren here by herself while her mother forced her to dance with some guy she barely knew.

“Yes, but I can’t. I-I mean,” She started stuttering after she saw her mother’s face turn dark. “Lauren is my guest and I can’t let her here all-”

“It’s okay,” Lauren cut her off. “I don’t mind it. Maybe your parents and I could use the time to talk about the internship your father mentioned earlier?” Camila’s mother nodded with a satisfied smile and now Camila was sure Lauren could get everything she needed from them when she wanted to.

“Okay, I’ll look for him,” She eventually said, not being happy with what Lauren did, after what Lauren said she knew Lauren wasn’t interested to talk about this with her parents, but she did it for her.

Camila was already on her way to leave the bathroom with her mother when Lauren pulled her back again. She kissed her on the lips, her cheek and her jaw before she whispered. “I don’t care if you dance with some guy, as long as you don’t look at him the way you look at me.” And gave her a last kiss behind her ear, which sent a shiver down her spine. She craved Lauren’s touch the second she lost it, but they couldn’t risk getting caught, so Camila blew her a kiss and left to find Isaac Bale.

When Lauren watched them both getting everyone’s attention because 'they look so good together’ like she heard Sinuhe say. She wasn’t jealous, it wasn’t jealousy, it was envy. Envy, because he could dance with her in front of everyone, something she couldn’t. The only thing that kept her from leaving were Camila’s eyes, that didn’t leave her for a second. She was so in love with this girl, that she didn’t mind getting hurt a little.

The rest of the night wasn’t easy for both of them but at least Lauren got to know Camila’s parents a little. They weren’t too bad, they were passionate about their work but they stood up for the wrong people and last but not least, they didn’t treat Camila like she deserved to.

“Are you okay?” Camila asked when she saw that Lauren was deep in thought.

Lauren turned to her and nodded. “Yes, I am.”

“What did you talk about while I was dancing?” She asked curiously. They didn’t get another chance like they did in the bathroom, so they had to wait until they were sitting in the cab on their way back to their hotel.

“They offered me an internship next summer.”

“And…?” Camila asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I said no,” She told her. “I don’t wanna become a lawyer to save rich peoples’ asses, but to help the people that really need it,” She explained and Camila smiled, she was proud to have someone like Lauren by her side. “Moreover, how can I respect them when they don’t respect something as precious as you?” She added, kissing the back of Camila’s hand.

“Lauren,” Camila whined sheepishly. “Stop!”

Nothing changed for Lauren that night, but for Camila, everything. She realized she could never let Lauren go, she realized Lauren was the one, the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. So when she was finally done with school she gathered all her bravery and told her parents. When she felt her cheek throbbing after the first slap, she thought she made a mistake. When she fell crying to the ground after the fifth, she knew it was the right thing. They didn’t accept the way she was, but Lauren did, Camila knew she’d always be there for her and that was all she needed to be happy.

They were the kind of couple everyone adored and, of course, they had their fights but never anything big. They moved together and things went even better than before, they were a perfect team and for the first time in her life, Camila felt at home. She found a job in Boston and Lauren still went to Uni for another year, but together it wasn’t a problem.

When Lauren graduated summa cum laude she didn’t have a problem finding the job she wanted to. Everything went near to perfect, until Lauren got a case that changed her. She put all her time in it and Camila thought it was crazy that they gave her such a case, considering that she was still inexperienced, but she didn’t say anything because she knew it would only cause a fight. Camila barely knew anything, just that it was about a still 16 years old teenager and Lauren did everything to keep them away from prison. Camila could observe how Lauren got more tense with every passing day and she started getting nervous as well because it became obvious, how important this was for Lauren. When Lauren lost the case Camila wasn’t surprised that she changed, what surprised her was the way she changed. It didn’t suit Lauren to throw everything away because of one defeat. She got quieter and started avoiding Camila, she skipped work until a point where her boss could only fire her and she started going out at night, getting drunk out of her mind until she couldn’t remember her name anymore. It was hard for Camila but she tried to stay strong, for both of them. She believed in Lauren, she knew this was just temporary. But time went on and things just got worse, sometimes Lauren stayed away for the night, sometimes for two and Camila would never know where she was, or what she was doing. Camila tried everything for her possible, but she wasn’t able to help Lauren, and Lauren wouldn’t help herself anytime soon so she could only tell herself she had to be strong for both of them. She hid the pain Lauren caused in her and acted like the tough girl, she actually wasn’t. It went so far that she even asked, or better said begged, her parents to help her, she would’ve done everything for Lauren, but as she already expected they didn’t want to help their daughter’s girlfriend out and she was on her own.

“You’ll find a way to be yourself again, Lauren. I know you will.” She whispered every night and she never lost hope.

Camila laid her phone away when she was done riding down the memory lane and went to the door. It was already quiet again, so she guessed Lauren gave up. She locked open the door and Lauren stumbled in, almost falling to the floor. “Thanks,” She slurred and supported herself against the wall next to the door. She avoided Camila’s eyes once again but Camila didn’t even try to change that, it was hopeless.

“Where have you been?” She asked with sadness in her voice, but Lauren didn’t bother to answer and when she got enough strength she tried to make her way to the bedroom. “Lauren, please!” She begged, her voice showing how desperate she was.

“What Camila?” She answered, stopping in her tracks but not turning around.

“Can you not even answer my question?” She wanted to know.

Lauren gulped and closed her eyes. “I was out,” She said as if it wasn’t obvious for Camila.

The other girl sighed and shook her head. “Alright. If that’s what we have become.”

Lauren felt bad, but her pride told her to just leave her alone for now. She knew when Camila figured out what she did, she would leave her and that scared her, alone the thought of Camila leaving her hurt. “I’m so sorry.” She whispered quietly but Camila heard what she said.

“You aren’t!” She laughed bitterly. “Stop, Lauren. Be at least honest with me, that’s all I’m asking for, or is that already too much?”

“No.” Lauren took a deep breath and tried to go on with her plan until Camila grabbed her wrist, pulling her back. She turned around, ready to listen what the other girl wanted to say.

Instead of saying anything Camila just gave her a soft kiss, of course, she tasted the alcohol on the green-eyed girls’ lips, but she couldn’t help herself, she just missed those lips too much. The way they felt on hers and what they made her feel. It felt always like the first time, even when everything seemed dark.

Camila released Lauren’s lips again and Lauren had no choice but opening her eyes. When their eyes met for the first time in weeks the only thing Camila could do was to slap her and she hoped it was hard enough so that Lauren would never forget it, not even when she woke up with a hangover tomorrow. Camila had seen her in many situations but never like this, eyes red from whatever she took. Camila didn’t even want to know, it had already hurt enough to know that Lauren would do something like that. It was against anything she stood up for and Camila couldn’t understand how she could live like that. “I’m not a fool, Lauren,” She whispered after the other girl looked at her in shock. “You can let me down, you can hurt me but don’t take me for a fool, don’t act like you didn’t know I’d notice that you’re high on whatever.” She hissed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lauren denied pointlessly.

“I asked you to be honest and you’re trying to lie to me, while I can see it in your eyes,” Camila spoke, tears welling in her eyes. “What happened to the girl I met years ago? I adored the person you were and now… you just changed.”

“I didn’t change.”

“Yes, you did!” Camila wasn’t able to hold her emotions back, it became too much after all this time but she couldn’t break down in front of Lauren, she had to stay strong.

“What if I didn’t change? What if you just never noticed that this is how I really am, that this is the real me?” The older girl yelled back and Camila couldn’t believe that she was lying to herself like that.

“Goddammit, wake up Lauren!” She yelled back, with tears in her eyes. “Doing drugs is how you really are? That’s all you’ve got to say? You’re a free person. You aren’t in prison, he is. You can live, you can breathe, you can do what your heart wants, why don’t you do it?” She wanted to know. “You didn’t take this job because you knew you’re gonna be a hero who can save everyone, who isn’t guilty, you took it because you wanted to try your best to help as many people as possible. And you swore you wouldn’t give up without giving everything, so why are you giving up now?”

She looked at Camila with an angry look and opened her mouth, ready to say something, but nothing came out, she just stood there speechless until she couldn’t bear the silence anymore and stormed off to their bedroom. She locked the door behind her and leaned against it after, slowly sliding down to the ground. It was so quiet, that Lauren could hear how Camila did the same on the other side and the reality hit her. She was breaking the other girl’s heart. Something she swore she would never do, Lauren forgot who she was and Camila had to pay for it. It wasn’t the first time she came to the conclusion, but she couldn’t change how she felt, her self-hate became stronger than her love for Camila and it was just a question of time when it would break both of them completely. Lauren never wanted things to go like this, she wanted to fight against it. She loved Camila so much, she was ready to ask her, whether she wanted to marry her because she knew Camila was the love of her life and she wanted to prove her this in every way possible, but now she was just a wreck, ready to give up. Ironically, how she was breaking the only thing that kept her on the ground. Camila was right, she did change and not just a little.

It took Lauren a while until she got enough strength to get up again and open the door, and when she opened it Camila wasn’t sitting in front of it. The girl could feel her heartbeat quicken when she couldn’t see Camila and only relaxed when she saw her laying on the couch, with closed eyes. She must’ve fallen asleep, Lauren thought when she got closer and didn’t see any reaction.

She sat down on the ground and leaned against the couch, she hadn’t been so close to Camila since everything went down. She turned a little so that she could hold Camila’s wrist and check her pulse, just to feel it beat. It was a weird habit but it had never failed to calm her down. Knowing Camila’s heart was beating next to hers was all she ever needed and she hated that she forgot such a thing. When she was done she slid her hand in Camila’s and stroked the back of her hand while closing her eyes, it wasn’t the most comfortable position to fall asleep, but the moment felt so good that she couldn’t help herself.

When Lauren woke up the following morning she wasn’t holding Camila’s hand anymore, what immediately made her panic and she startled up. “Camz?” She called for the other girl.

“I’m here.” She heard her say on her way back to the living room. “I’m right here,” She said a little quieter this time.

She took a seat on the couch and Lauren sat next to her. No one said anything but Lauren was scared she knew what was coming, she had this bad feeling and this feeling was never wrong.

“I tried to tell myself, maybe you’re right,” The younger girl spoke after a few minutes of silence. “That maybe you didn’t change, but the way I see you. I thought about your words over and over again, hoping I’d figure out why you’d say that, but I couldn’t, because you’re wrong, Lauren. You did change so please stop lying to yourself. That’s not you, that’s not the Lauren I met in the coffee shop years ago” She stood up and cleaned her eyes from the last tears she had left from last night.

“Please don’t!” Lauren whispered not brave enough to look up and see how Camila shook her head.

She made a decision and even though it hurt like hell, she knew it was the right thing to do. She loved Lauren more than herself and that’s why she had to let go, they couldn’t break each other. Maybe someday they would have a chance but this wasn’t their someday. “Goodbye, my love,” She whispered into Lauren’s ear and kissed her cheek one last time.

//

Hey guys I hope you enjoyed reading this (: You can find this and my other works on Wattpad as well @Wuskripa

[altheaselmaisadoradarsey]

My thoughts on Hamilton West End

Thoughts on Hamilton West End 21/12/17 (night after opening!)

(This is long as shit and very messy it's full of first impressions and random things I've remembered (mainly the funny bits ngl) all mixed up together I apologise but I needed to get it out somehow cos I'm not good at expressing emotions lol, also the words funny, excited and hyper are prolly overused i apologise)

Bearing in mind I have not seen the bway show and the creative team is largely the same so I'm sure I'll talk a Talk about thinks that are similar in both

Vic pal theatre is stunning it's just been renovated our seats were sick even though we were about half way up the upper circle we had a brilliant view of the stage and the stage still felt really close

On a vaguely related note I wore my 'AND PEGGY' baseball cap and 3 of the stewards said they liked it it was cute

Act 1

FIRST THINGS FIRST THE CHOREOGRAPHY WAS STUNNING. A mash up of hip hop, modern and ballet. How you even think if that I don't know. There was always SO MUCH going on and the energy was constant - wether they were synchronised doing the same thing or all doing something different from the Schuyler sisters on the high walkway or the ensemble doing lifts in pairs even or whatever it just made me wanna dance (lol bc I can't) I can't talk about it enough but I'll stop now because I'm not eloquent enough.

Burr - voice is really unique and it was kinda weird at first (may be due to being used to Leslie) but you got used to it and I think reall suited the character? His mannerisms and physicality were SO BURR. Also was really funny! All his little one liners were done really funny-ly and well thought out.

Before they had King George to do a little announcement about phones and I love it also meant I was ready for the dum dum dumdum bc I was super nervous (in a good way?)

A.ham (song) - ahh it's such a good intro. when burr first came on there was an orange yellow light behind him and it made a super long shadow onto the stage and it was p o w e r f u l.

When they all came to the front of the stage in a line I was so excited because I've been waiting for that moment for 2 years

I LOVED Jamel Westman as Ham he was sick. He's just come out of RADA how do you deal with taking on a part like that with such little experience whoa . I must say that I think I liked him a lot more in act 2 than act 1 he seemed a bit stiff in act 1 but that may have been be I'm used to Lin who I think played him more nerdy and hyper? Kinda. I love both but Westman was insane. Also had a really nice singing voice.

Angelica slated my entire being Rachel John is perfect for that part

George Washington had a husky singing voice and it suited him so well

KING GEORGE III is possibly my favourite character ever he's so funny and extra.

I don't think Michael Jibson had the best singing I've heard in that role (but like who can even sing that it's high to kudos to him for hitting those notes) his 'kill your friends and family' was hilarious he sang the up until 'and family' which he said really seriously and then he left a massive pause where he just stared at the audience. I giggled. On the last da da dadadaaa's he did a little shoulder wiggle which was funny too! There was a couple of points over the three songs where he held long notes for even longer than necessary which was good too

Now my friends went and saw it in previews a couple of weeks ago and said they didn't really like Rachel Ann Go as Eliza so I did go in expecting to not like her as much ( I trust my friends opinions) which obviously wasn't great and I tried to go in with an open mind but I kinda understand why you might not like her however overall I thought she was good and I liked her a lot more in act 2 than act 1. At first I felt she was almost too excitable and hyper which more of a Peggy thing (speaking of, Peggy was really grumpy and cute which was funny) although Eliza did become a lot more restrained throughout the show which I think was a good choice as it helped show age and I think was more Eliza anyway. I thought her Best of Wives and Best of Women was perfect though. He American ACCENT though was not great I hate to say it but it was very British a lot of the time and in the 'ohhh I do I do I do I dooo' bit in helpless she sounded cockney? I'm sorry how

AWE IN HELPLESS ANGELICA COULDN'T GET ELIZA'S VEIL ON IN TIME SHE TRIED LIKE TWICE AND IT JUST SLID RIGHT IFF I FELT SO BAD It wasn't super noticeable though and things are bound to go wrong

In story of tonight reprise when Lauren's goes I've seen wonders great and small they all looked at Laf bc he was really short it was funny

Most of Wait for it was really still which was nice as it gave a rest from the crazy continual movement and action from the last few scenes. Also Burr has a peng voice

Ten duel commandments was super intense ahh

YORKTOWN WAS SO EXCITING IVE SEEEN ALL GHE PROMOS FOR THAT SONG AND TO ACTUALLY SEE IT LIVE SO EXHILARATING Westman was a stern leader and it worked really well

You could just tell that the audience thought it was the end of act one but NOPE SIT DOWN WE STILL GOT MORE

Also cheer on "immigrants: we get the job done" was British and polite but still there and I was READY FOR IT

on 'I'm so blue' in What Comes Next? Kings George did a little frustrated stamp and the red light he was standing snapped to blue it was good

Dear theodosia was super cute Burr and Ham were in matching costumes but Burr's waistcoat was purple and Ham's was green

Laurens' death was SAD but Cleve September is PERFECT for that role

Felt the transition from Laurens' death to not stop was bit quick, like I needed to feel sad for longer, it just sort of went straight into not stop

NON-STOP DAMN after the treasury or state bit Ham's 'lEtS gO' was so exciteable loved it.

On angelicas as it about her husband they got to the don't forget to writteee part and Angelica got taken away on the revolve Eliza was put into her place it was SO CLEVER near the end the staircase came into the middle and Washington was on the top and it was I N T E N S E

Clapped a freaking lot at the end of act one

Act 2

Dad called jeferson 'purple rain prince guy'

Seriously though the purple velvet was A Look

SUCH AN CRAZY Jefferson! Did loads of dancing and jumping and twirls is was so funny how he would just suddenly go into it

Ham snaked Washington when going in for a handshake he fully cut him off

I'm Take A Break they changed "John Adams doesn't have a real job anyway" to "the Vice President is not a real job anyway" which I think was changed so it's clearer to the audience who they're talking about

The cabinet battles were fab like I said before Westman was a calmer Hamilton but was more realistic 'We will reconvene after a brief reset' was said really sweetly to the audience like nothing was going wrong it was funny

Before Say No To This my friend just whispered Owh Dear really quietly and honestly? Mood

Christine Allado did a super sultry voice which was strong but deffo works for Maria.

The room where it happens was sick!!!

At one point the whole stage was in red lighting except for a bright white box that Burr was in it was so cool. Also VOCALS in this were amazing The Riffs!!!!

Cleve September as Phillip was cute you could really see the age difference between 9 and 19

The vocals in One Last Time we great "George Washington's going homeeeee" had me shook

In I Know Him King George seemed really crazy and manically smiled on 'that poor man their going to eat him alive'

And the crazy laughs at the end was brilliantly MANIC

He didn't leave at the end of his song just sat lower stage right and danced to the beginning of The Adams Administration which was funny but what was even better was that half way through his little introduction Burr noticed the king watching a gave him a odd look and the king just did a hand wave to tell him to continue and kept shimmying

WESTMAN'S VOICE IN HURRICANE WAS BEAUTIFUL

REYNOLDS PAMPHLET WAS FUNNY RVEN THOUGH I FELT BAD JEFFERSON LOOKED SO HAPPY AMD THE SET LOOKED REALLY COOL WITH ALL THE PAPERD FLYINV AROUND HAM BUT I COULDN'T EVEN FOCUS ON ANGELICAS BiT BECAUSE I WAS BUSY LAUGHING AT KING GEORGE DANCING WITH THE CHORUS AND ADDING HIS ONE SHEET IF PAPER TO THE MESS

oh but I loved was when Angelica arrived and the ensemble too way her bags in one motion it was slick and I enjoyed it

Burn was nice but I think Rachelle Ann Go made it a bit too vibrato-y which became kind of annoying (also I kinda felt though the entire thing she was forcing a really classical voice which was nice but didn't really work) her voice is amazing though apart from that and I really felt the reserved sorta anger in the performance

Blow Is All Away was SAD I COULD HEAR EVERYONE ONE CRYING AROUND ME, good dying (lol) on September's part

I wasn't a fan of Eliza's scream/cry when Phillip died I'm not sure what it was I didn't like but her counting WITH him was PErFECT

It's Quiet Uptown is the saddest thing ever lemme tell you. I don't cry. I cannot remember the last time I cried, particularly not at normal sad things. I saw Les Mis two weeks ago and didn't even get tear-y, so you can imagine how freaking sad this song has to be to get me to almost cry. I had pretty watery eyes and one hell of a snotty nose. It was bad. The lines like 'the unimaginable' were the worst. If you thing the cast recording is sad just wait until you see it live

After Jefferson came in with "can we get back to politics" he said it like he was tired of all the sad personal stuff which was funny and the Madison came on saying please and his voice broke like he had been crying at It's Quiet Uptown as well which was funny and it provided some well needed comic relief

When ham said he was voting for Jefferson Jeff did his twirls and dances again which was great and burr looked SO MAD

Your Obedient Servant was passive aggressive af it was great. And the ensemble was doing like lighthearted ballet and around them which actually worked really well Line change from "weehawkin, dawn" to "New Jersey, dawn" I'm assuming cos they've mentioned New Jersey more so it was clearer? Idk

Like I already said Best if Wives And Best of Women was 10/10 perfect

Ok so the world was wide enough Giles Terra (Burr) didn't do The Line™ in a really emotional way he did IT angry bc let's be honest you don't wanna compete yourself to Leslie on that so I enjoyed the change. HAMS SPEACH WHEN HE GEST SHOT IS SO GOOD I COULD NOT DEAL WITH IT

Also the choreo when Burr says "they row job back across the Hudson" they did this cool rowing move next to Ham and with the revolve it looked like they were on a boat!

I thought Eliza was quite good in WLWDWTYS "the orphanage" is such a nice bit

The gasp at the end was not made clear however. I understand it as Eliza seeing the audience and realising that her work has come true and that the legacy continues right? I only know that bc I read it beforehand, I think it could have been made clearer by the house lights come if up slightly so the audience knows Eliza seeing us. Also the way the gasp/hand move was done it made it seam Eliza was about to go into some really stereotypical opera singing? I just think she could have referenced the audience more but it's a really cute idea that I like.

All the cast bowed at the same time it was so cute and important bc everyone put in so much effort and they all deserved to be together

Straight up standing ovation oc

The play out music at the end was a really jazzy mashup of the songs and if my brain had been fully functioning after the show I would remember what songs but it was sick and they did the classic bum bumbumbum bum bum bum! At the end and the red and white bulls eye lighting they had for the duels flashed it was sick

SPEAKING OF LIGHTING IT WAS INCREDIBLE

THERE WAS LIKE A LIGHTING CUE EVERY 3 SECONDS I DINT KNOW HOW THAY MANAGED IT BUT IT WAS ALL SO WELL THOUGHT OUT AND CLEVER LIKE THERE WAS LITTLE LIGHTS AROUND THE EDGES LIKE STREET GRATES THAT IF LIKE BURR WAS IN ONE SIDE IF THE STAGE AND HAM ON OTHER THE GRATES WOULD BE ORANGE ON ONE SIDE AND BLUE ON THE OTHER. EVERY. SINGLE. DETAIL. Yes I'm gonna rant bc techies don't get enough respect

I've definitely missed so many things I wanted to put here but I was quite overwhelmed which I think is understandable when I've been waiting for over two years for it but it was so so worth it.

Ok I'm done I might add more if I remember goodnight folks

[septembersung]

A good friend of mine has a graduate degree in art; she’s also a writer. As an MFA (creative writing), I have an appreciation for that complementary formation and we find lots to talk about artistically across mediums. But despite our complementary talents and education, as well as certain ethical similarities, we do not share a common religious conviction. That’s made it difficult to get at what I really want to say when certain subjects come up, notably, the amorality of contemporary art. I almost always write to work out not just what I think, but how and why I think it; ideally after committing this to blog form I’ll be able to explain myself better in conversation...

Under the cut because this became a rambling monster of a post. I’m not great at synthesizing and presenting what, for me, is a cohesive world-view, in clear syllogisms. Practice makes perfect, right? Anyway: the “amorality” of much contemporary art:

The phenomenon of amoral (and therefore, immoral) art I would also call “the ugliness of contemporary art” and “the unartisticness of contemporary art.” These phrases are related but not synonyms; they describe different facets of the same problem.

The most recent example of this unartistic-art subject that came up in our conversation was the widely debated Game of Thrones, as books and a show. I eventually recommended to her, and do the same to anyone reading this, an article called “A song of gore and slaughter.”  It is a fantastic breakdown of the underlying problem of which ASOIAF/GoT is just one example, and situates it within the genre as a whole. The author’s essential thesis is that violence, gore, and all manner of immorality - what he sums up as “splatterporn” - have become the center of the genre, and moved way, way beyond shock tactics to prove a point (a debatable tactic on its own, whatever Chuck Palahnuick says,) but are rather lauded as goods in themselves. In short: GoT and similar works are pornography, in the broad sense that encompasses far more than sex. The article examines praise for one such “splatterporn” series and responds, 

“Stomach-churning, it happens, is a good physiological description of what I referred to above as ‘objective disgust’. Being revolted until you puke, you see, is good for you now: it is something that you ought to want from a book, and if you don’t, you need to be ‘dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st century’ yourself. The horrors of the 20th were not enough; Hiroshima and the Holocaust are, like, so five minutes ago. We shall outdo them all, and you shall like it. That is the gospel according to the up-to-date critic.” 

I agree wholeheartedly with the author’s general thesis, and will not reproduce the argument here - really, you should read the whole thing - instead, taking it as a given, what I want to explore on my own terms comes in a paragraph of the author’s towards his conclusion:

The touchstone of Elfland — the most characteristic characteristic of fantasy — is the eversion of symbolism. The One Ring is not merely a symbol of power; it is power. Excalibur is not merely a symbol of kingship; it confers kingship. In these terms, we can say that the recent novels of Martin and Abercrombie (among lamentably numerous others) not only symbolize but are the walls around a concentration camp in Faërie. This is the camp of ‘edginess’, where the gaolers are grimly determined that no memory of sun or moon, tree or flower, stone or sea, goodness, truth, or beauty, shall remain to the inmates, but only the unending, ever-increasing, bloodshot craving for the pleasures of torture and the pornography of pain, suitably euphemized as ‘moral ambiguity’.

The striking thing about the “eversion of symbolism” is that, in less explicit forms, it turns up in all kinds of genres; perhaps because  it has - and I am speaking here as a Catholic - a true, real world, counterpart: sacramentality. (For a fascinating, and non-religious, examination of this concept, see Robert Bly’s The Sibling Society.) And that article even names explicitly the trifecta which contemporary art has anathematized: truth, beauty, and goodness. You can’t have one of those three without the others, and they in turn depend, in art as in the life it imitates, on sacramentality.

To understand my point we need to be on the same page regarding what sacramentality actually is, so we begin with Catholic sacramental theology:

A sacrament is an efficacious sign of grace: it actually is and actually gives what it symbolizes. Bread and wine do not “just” symbolize the body and blood of Christ; at His word (”This is my body; this is my blood”), the bread and wine become, truly and substantially, objectively in reality and not subjectively in the mind or body of the communicant, His body and blood. Baptism does not just “represent” spiritual cleansing or “joining the church”; by the power of God given to His priests (e.g. Mt 28:18-20) baptism removes the stain of original sin (and the personal sins of someone above the age of reason) and truly brings that person into the Church, the New Covenant, into a state of grace. Holy orders is not some kind of graduation ceremony, it does not symbolically “set apart” a man as a leader because he’s studied theology. Holy orders truly makes an indelible (unerasable, permanent) mark in the man’s soul, conferring - kind of like Excalibur confers kingship on Arthur - the threefold reality of Christ on him: priest, prophet, king. He is truly “another Christ” (alter Christus), not merely “like” Christ. All of the seven sacraments can be summed up this way: their materials symbolize what their essence is and confers: grace, that is, the life of God.

Sacraments have both matter and form. What the form and matter are vary from sacrament to sacrament. The Eucharist is a clear example of this principle: the matter is unleavened wheat bread and grape wine, and the form is the words that confect the sacrament, in this case “This is my body,” etc.

Sacramentality forms the weft of the nature of reality in four ways: 

1) Sacramentality is the consequence of Creation in general and the Incarnation specifically. 

We have to unpack this a bit in order for its full significance to become clear in the following paragraphs. Creation means more than just “all this stuff we see around us,” and even more than the flat statement, so apparently unremarkable in our day, “God created the universe.” To put it extremely briefly, Creation is the order of reality, of all that has been made. The Triune God, who exists outside of all things and is complete unto Himself, created all things out of nothing as act of love, and those things are ordered with particular natures and to particular ends. (For an incredible and readable short introduction to the theology of creation, you can’t do better than Pope Benedict XVI’s little book In the Beginning.) Creation in a broad sense is incarnation: literally en-fleshing the thoughts, will, and love of God. The Incarnation is the highest manifestation of this en-fleshing, the “first sacrament” in a sense: God Himself became an enfleshed being, a physical, material person. That which is bigger than all of creation, outside it and above it, became joined to creation, went down into it, and assumed the nature of the created being, a human person. The Incarnation, which began with Mary’s “fiat” at the Annunciation at Nazareth when Jesus was conceived, enervated creation: that which was big and outside, without losing its bigness and outsideness, became inside and little. 

In short, physical, material, created things convey God to us.

2) Reality expresses its sacramental nature the seven sacraments proper, as discussed above, administered through the Church, as the active and physical workings of Christ - that is, grace - in the world. The sacraments are the direct consequence of the Incarnation: they are the continued presence of Christ on earth, the fountainhead of all truth, goodness, and beauty in the world. When speak of the sacraments, we are speaking of the Divine Person of Christ.

3) Reality is “sacramental,” in the technical or theological sense, which means a holy object, blessed by a priest, which has no objective power on its own but has a subjective beneficial power. Sacramentals proper include things like holy water, rosaries, crucifixes, and holy/miraculous medals. Sacramentals do not objectively confer grace in the way that the sacraments do because their efficacy is related to the personal devotion and belief of the person using them. For example: an infant, who is incapable of understanding baptism, nonetheless receives the indelible mark of Christ in his soul, is sanctified and made a member of the Church, because baptism is an act of God, whereas the spiritual benefits of using blessed objects, like a rosary, depends on the disposition (in a state of grace or not) and intentions of the person using them. 

4) Reality is sacramental because is it is full of sacramentals in the analogous sense: material, physical things and actions both describe an effect and help to cause that effect in those who participate in the thing or the action. This aspect of sacramentality exists because of and depends upon the sacramental reality, Christ.

Sacramentality in this fourth sense - as a created thing which describes an effect ands helps to cause that effect in those who participate in it- is, as you may have seen coming, a beautiful broad definition of art. Art itself is (a) sacramental, in this fourth sense of the word. Art only “works,” only has the effect on us that it does, because reality is sacramental: created objects have meaning, in a meaningful universe, and the form that they take is, and is the means of, their communication of that meaning to us; and at root what they communicate is the trifecta at the heart of all that humans aspire to: truth, beauty, and goodness.

Thus could J.R.R. Tolkien, a devout Catholic, described the work of artists (including writers) as a “sub-creation.” We participate in the creative, incarnational work of God when we make art. Truth, beauty, and goodness are both our subject and our goal, our content and the form of our content. 

Thus the creative, incarnational work has the three primary characteristics that describe God himself: it is True, Good, and Beautiful. Art is most successful, most fully itself, when it understands and works with its nature. 

(If your immediate objection here is, “but ugliness and darkness are important/valid/necessary/have a place!” I don’t necessarily disagree with you - but hold off, because that is not the point of, and not in contradiction of, what I’m getting at here.)

But human beings what we are, we often fail to understand the nature of things, and to actively act against our nature.

If art is not simply “whatever we make,” or “whatever I want it to be”; if it has shape; purpose; character of its own; then we must see what passes for much of contemporary art in a whole new light. Where contemporary art is amoral, immoral, ugly, and unartistic, it is so because it is unsacramental, indeed, it is anti-sacramental. Another word for this anti-sacramentality is iconoclastic.

And yet it cannot escape its own nature.

With that said, let’s back up to the importance of the Incarnation within the expressed theology of Creation:

As the Father showed his people throughout the Old Testament his presence through physical signs, e.g. leading them through the wildnerness as a pillar of smoke and a column of fire, or settling His presence as a cloud on the tent of the tabernacle, and later, the Temple (which, it should be noted, is fulfilled in the New Covenant with the perpetual physical presence of Christ in the tabernacle in the Blessed Sacrament), just so God makes His presence known and effects his will through matter. Most importantly, this began with Jesus, God-made-flesh. The Incarnation is the fulfillment of God’s promises in the Old Testament; it utterly changed the world. 

Then, Jesus Christ, God incarnate, revealed his divinity, his presence, and bestowed his grace, through physical works: The touch of his hand brings the dead back to life; a brush of his garment heals the sick; he gives sight to the blind through the medium of mud and spit; he gives us his divine person as the final, actually efficacious, sacrifice, under the appearances of bread and wine.

As the grace of new Covenant and the breaking down of the old walls between Jew and Gentile made all foods lawful and “clean,” so Jesus appearing as the image of the Father, a face to know and love and caress, turned the old prohibition against “graven images” - idols - inside out. Now the danger of idolatry from made things had passed because the Father had given the true, living image of himself, the Son, Jesus, to us to see and to imitate.

The history of Western art (and to some extent Eastern) from the Resurrection up until the eve of the Reformation is the history of Christendom exploring what that means. It is often said that the Gothic architecture of the middle ages fulfilled the word that the “very stones would cry out” in praise of God. 

Christians began creating art, particularly sacred images, even while they were still persecuted; the catacombs are filled with such art. In time, as the Church became, first just legal, and eventually the foundation of society, building Christendom - Catholic culture in nations avowedly Catholic - the developing skill of artists gave us what we see now as the history of art: not just methods and skills, but subjects, purposes. All was for the glory of God. What is true? What is good? What is beautiful? How can we express it? The history of the development of art in Western civilization is the long playing out of the logical consequences of the faith of the Incarnation. 

As the spirit of God was given form in the divine person, the man Jesus Christ, so his truth, goodness, and beauty, and that of all the faith which flows from him, Revelation and its logical inferences, overflows into the creations of his followers, for teaching, praising, worshipping, and evangelizing. This art achieved its glory at the height of Christendom: in no small part, it built the great civilization from which our own culture springs.

And then it all started to go wrong. 

Henri Daniel-Rops gives a great overview of how the secularization of art began, as one of the roots of and/or entwined with the roots of the Protestant Reformation, in his book The Protestant Reformation. What fascinates me, personally, is that the subjectivization of religion led directly to one of the most violent periods of iconoclasm in history, the Protestant image-breaking, which was practiced across denominations. The reasons behind it went far beyond the oft-cited “idolatry” to cut at the very foundation of the Catholic faith: they rejected sacramentality as such. (Yes, some Reformers and their descendants kept some of the language of the sacraments or quibbled over the number, but even they - and of course this is a generalization as they all disagreed with each other - put forth their interpretations as a direct counter to the Catholic understanding of reality and what “sacraments” and “sacramentality” mean.) Denying the sacramentality of reality ends up with denying the Incarnation, and without the Incarnation, there is no Christianity. Without Christianity, there is no art. We are still living with the descendants of those ideas and their consequences. This post is already a novel so I won’t trace that out in detail; another post for another day. But to paraphrase Hilaire Belloc, the revolt against the Catholic faith begins with “just” the Church, but ends in a revolt against reason, human nature, and reality. We are left without form or matter.

While I do not endorse this vlogger in general or his other videos, I offer this short video as an example of the general problems I’m talking about with contemporary art: Modern Art Insults Me. If you want a sense of what I’m talking about beyond “splatterporn,” that’s the video to watch.

Art that is produced by people and a culture that has utterly rejected not just the Catholic Church, but the rational foundations on which the Faith is built, including the sacramental nature of reality - in all senses of the word - is art that is trying to escape its own nature. Art is trying “to art” by being not-art. It’s still a creation, yes, in that it literally has been made, but it denies its nature and purpose; it has nothing to say about, or actively rejects, truth, beauty, and goodness. In many cases it rejects form (as a poet, and a defender of vers libre, I could go into detail - but in another post) and rather than glorifying matter, instead degrades it. I would go so far as to say what most accept as contemporary art is no such thing, but anti-art - a phenomenon more commonly known by another name: iconoclasm. 

Iconoclasm is the opposite of art. Definitions vary; it’s most commonly used to describe the destruction of art and/or the philosophy of people who believe destroying art to be a good thing. Art - that is, a given creative effort - that tries to become destruction in itself, that tries to operate outside of and/or actively rejects the trifecta of truth, goodness, and beauty, is iconoclastic.

In place of real art, we see two primary phenomena today: 1) Self-expression, and 2) Politics. 

Don’t misunderstand me: genuine art can be and incorporate self-expression, and genuine art can, and in some cases should, engage with politics. 

But what we’re seeing across the majority of mediums today practiced as art is not art, but acts of iconoclasm: acts of deliberate unbeauty, untruth, ungoodness - ugliness, falsehood, evil. The concept of revolution has been enshrined as the only “form” which art may genuinely take; and it proves to be no form at all. “Gritty realism” is the banner cry, because this vision of the world and humanity is one that is without an overarching purpose, a fundamental nature that cannot be violated, without the moral compass of a rational, created, universe. Rather than a cohesive, crafted, universe built out of and predicated on communicative love - gift and grace! -we see cruelty, purposelessness, isolation, and fragmentation as the standard; and not only described, but celebrated. In just a few brief years - speaking from the perspective of history - we’ve gone from the glory of “The Waste Land” to “If nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do” (Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Angel.) The “splatterporn” of ASOIAF/GoT is just one popular pernicious example. The sorts of things created in many art programs also qualify; as my friend described what she and her colleagues were creating at one point, “lumpy,” “ugly,” “blobs” of “stuff.” 

I have to wrap this up somehow before it becomes a book. (Give me a few more years; there’s easily a dozen books in this topic.) I’ve made a lot of claims and raised a lot of questions. To pick just two: The “but shock value is so important!” argument isn’t easily laid to rest, even though as noted above, and in that first linked article, it’s actually a separate discussion and far from a certain truth. “But does ugliness and darkness have a place in art?” is the next logical question. The answer is that it does, but again, that’s actually a separate issue from the actual question being considered here, which is: “what is art in its nature and what is its purpose?” My answer is, art is sacramental in nature (and therefore intimately tied to the Catholic faith) and its purpose is to portray and effect truth, beauty, and goodness. Not a novel thesis, certainly, but one that needs a great deal more hearing in a world where the monstrosities that is ASOIAF/GoT is proclaimed “great,” “good,” and - most bitter of ironies - “realistic,” where the actual nature of ourselves and the universe we inhabit is utterly denied - and not only denied, but reviled.

Further reading: 

For a fascinating look at “post-iconoclastic icons,” and the paradox - I would say contradiction - of the Incarnation, the natural and indeed essential art of the Christian faith in the Protestant world founded in large part on the breaking of images, Joseph Koerner’s The Reformation of the Image is a great look at the topic from within Lutheranism. 

Minimalism Gets It Wrong - don’t be fooled by the title; this article gets at the heart of what I’m trying to say.

And finally, go get yourself a copy of the incredible little book Only the Lover Sings by Josef Pieper. The relationship between feast - celebration - and art, and the perequisites of art - love and gratitude - feature prominently. He writes:

[I]f the disposition of acceptance and love is absent, not only can there be no feast, but no song either! C'est l'amour qui chante, love alone knows how to sing.

Also: I’ve written about these issues before in tags like art and catholicism and theological aesthetics.

[thehostilegospel]

Soulmate(s)

Every now and then I read old writings I haven't shared or purposely didn’t finish. A few years ago I began to write about the concept of a soulmate and how I’m sure I met mine while out of town for work in 2011. I didn’t finish it and I won’t share it. We only spent two weeks together and never saw each other after that. During those two weeks we would sneak away from anything work related and bonded in this cosmic way. I’ve been searching for that feeling every since. I’ve failed miserably. Now that I think about it, him setting the bar so high in those two weeks could be one of the many reasons I’ve been single for so long. 

We always kept in contact and would entertain the idea of meeting up but neither of us were really serious about it, obviously. We had our own complicated lives to live and we just kept it at that. We have a mutual understanding that what we have is sacred, we get each other, we have love for each other, we trust each other, but we will never have each other. Not in this lifetime, at least. But in the next one, I’ll be waiting like clockwork and I’ll certainly know it’s him by the feel of it.

Anyways, this isn’t about him. I preface with this to better explain my views on what it means to have a soulmate/s. For some reason we’ve been made to believe that our soulmate is one person we are romantically involved with. They’re placed on this Earth specifically for us and it's only one person. I’m here to tell you that’s bullshit. They are friends. They are family. They are children. They are lovers. They are people we cross paths with to experience God on a more amplified level. And sometimes that means we only have them for a fixed amount of time. Thus, I think our view on seeking a soulmate needs to change. Our view on seeking anything needs to change. When you know, you just know and you just let that shit happen.

Recently I broke down and put together how Dallas (I have a sperate writing about DDD I’ll post at a separate time), church and basketball has brought me to the closest people in my life, who I view as my soulmates. Long story short, In the 3rd grade I played basketball for Oak Cliff Bible Fellowship in Dallas, TX. This was my introduction to organized basketball which stuck with me long enough to never go a year without playing. By my freshman year of high school I wasn’t making the best decisions and my parents thought it would be best to pull me out of that environment and enrolled me in a private Christian school. I was ready to rebel that whole year. But I knew one thing for sure, I was hooping no matter where I went. I met Briana and Destiny that year. I was from the Eastside, Destiny was from the Westside, Briana was from North Town and we all had three things in common... Our parents forced us to come to this whack private school, we thought everyone there was lame, and we played basketball. We instantly bonded over that. I’ve picked apart how many of my soulmates have blossomed through that one encounter with those two. So here is a letter to each of you who hold a great deal of space in my heart...

Ava

I wish I didn’t have to start this off with you because it instantly makes me want to cry. Just thinking about how small you used to be and the little person you are now is insane to think about. In just 9 years on this Earth you have been such a pillar for all of us. You have been one of the main reasons we had to grow up. I have to constantly remind myself that you’re so ahead of your time because you grew up with us while we were still growing up. I still remember the first time you said my name when you were a baby as I was leaving for work. You amaze me every time I see you. You are so freakin smart and head strong. Your mom has done such an amazing job with raising and providing for you. I am so proud of the little girl you have grown to be and I don’t worry about you one bit. I know you will grow into a young lady who stands firm in what she believes, loves people, and will excel in whatever you decide to do. You just make sure you step into your role as a leader and handle your handle. Also, I still lowkey hope you decide to play basketball one day. Me and BB tried our best to make you a lefty when you were a baby so you could be a shooter. Didn’t really work out but I hope you surprise us in the next few years. You are the reason for us all ❤️

Bre

My God, my God. Where do I even start with you? I guess August, 2004 is a good spot. Girl, that one game you got suspended and I had to run the court without you, I knew I couldn’t ever be without you again! You have been my left and my right on and off the court every since. I can still hear you yelling, “I’m rolling with you!” after a fast break just to remind me I wasn’t out there alone. I knew if you were by my side, I was safe. And I still feel that way 15 years later. You are truly my soulmate. We have cried. We have laughed until we cried. We have been drunk off of our asses. We have traveled different countries. We have been ready to fight everybody with our bad attitudes and terrible mouths. YOU. GET. ME. And there is not a thing I’m more grateful for in this world than simply that. I have seen you grow into such an amazing woman. First a wife, and now a mother. You inspire me more than you will ever know. I knew from the moment we met that you would be more than just my teammate. You have stuck with me through and through and I know that won't EVER change. You and your family have loved me like I was blood and I can never thank you enough for that. You are my home and I love you, eternally. I am so proud of you. I love to see the stars in your eyes when you look at Kwame. You make me feel like maybe I can be a mother, too ❤️

Brian

You got the hell out of Vegas after graduation and I don't blame you one bit! You have been doing your thing every since and it is truly inspiring! I feel like we bonded more once I moved to Texas, and I’m extremely grateful for that. We’re similar in a lot of ways with our introverted personalities and our musical taste. You are truly a stand up dude and I appreciate every bit of you! Continue to keep setting and accomplishing goals. You deserve every blessing that is written in the stars for you. Also, I’m getting the itch to go sky diving again 👀

Cheric

Oh, Cedric 😂 Where do I begin? Initially we called you the “Curtain knocker downer” because you knocked down Mrs. Crystals Curtains up stairs hahaha. You probably don't remember that, but we do. Man, you have been one solid brotha for all of us. I may not say it enough, but I appreciate you so much. We all appreciate you. For never switching up. For always being there. And for always being down to get freakin faded! haha You are one of the few men I know I can always depend on no matter the circumstances. You always come through and you always have our back. Thank you for staying down. Stay focused on your goals and handle your business. One day my mom is gonna call you Cheric and not Cedric 😂

Des

My dawwwwwwg! I knew when I met you in Mrs. Bakers class that we were gonna be down for life. Man, I am so freakin proud of you! You are one of one. I will never have to worry about you making shit happen. EVER. You will always find a way. A way to be creative. A way to make money. A way to network. A way to connect with people. A way to make people feel comfortable. You have been an all around dope ass human being from day one. Sometimes I don’t know how I have a friend as cool as you. You probably are the coolest person I’ve ever known in my whole life hahaha. I have seen you grow so much over the past 15 years and step into who you are today, unapologetically. And it is SO inspiring. You make me so proud! You command any room you go into, no matter the crowd. You are always poised. You always make friends. You are always you. And I appreciate that about you the most. You have been there for me since I was 14. We’re about to be 30, dawg! I couldn’t ask God for a better partner in crime. I have seen you work your ass off for the things that you want and not complain about it one bit. You are the epitome of a hard worker and a rider. Thank you for being by my side throughout these years. Thank you for the advice, the late night convos, and being an all around whole ass person from day one. You inspire me through and through. I love you!

Julian

Oh, the Colombian/Italian brother from another. You are the only person who stuck around from Trinity hahah. I can’t remember how or when we all got so close, but you belonged with us! You have grown into such a handsome and hardworking man. I’ll never have to worry about you making a way. You always have a plan and you always execute. And your musical taste is IMPECABLE! You are so debonair and you always make shit happen. I’m thankful to have you on my team. You always come through when I need you, no matter the cause. I’m so proud of the man you’ve grown to be over the last 15 years. I can’t wait to see how you flourish over the next 15. With you, I know I’ll always have someone to ride around the city, listen to music, and hike with. Stay focused and don’t compromise. Thank you for being you.

Kwame

My beautiful bubbly God Son! Oh, you bring so much light to us all! You can’t read yet, but that won’t stop me from telling you how loved you are. You came along at such a necessary time for all of us. You are such a little inquisitive warrior and I love seeing the little baby you grow to be.  Forgive me for not being there for every bit of your growth, but I’m trying my best. My biggest fear is that I spend too much time away from you and you don’t remember who I am 😕 But I’m so happy I was there to witness your first steps. Thank you for saving that until I was home, Kwammy Kwam ❤️ You are here for a reason. And although I’d love to think that you’re here to bring us all the joy, I know you will grow up to have a true and divine purpose. You have that purpose now and I can’t wait to see it manifest. I also can’t wait to see if you’re weird like your Mom or weird like your Dad. We love you, Ekpoudia!

Lulu

Although you aren’t last on the list, I had to write yours last because there is just so much to say. But I’ll start when you traveled with us to Pahranagat for a basketball tournament (Yea, I got a memory like an Elephant). You didn’t even go to school with us and you sure as hell didn’t hoop hahah. But you were always around making us laugh. After we graduated high school, we became extremely close and we’ve been thick as thieves every since. There are things we get about one another that no one else will probably understand. Our sense of independence and solitude while simultaneously desiring what we know we deserve. And refusing to settle for anything less. If there is no one in the world that understands me and my mess, I know you understand me. I have seen you work your ass off while providing for Ava, even before she was born. You have not only been a mom for Ava, but really a mom for all of us. You are always taking care of us, feeding us, problem solving, listening, and putting together the best game nights and family functions. I used to joke with you and tell you that you could never leave that house because that was the only home I had. But the reality is that home will be wherever you are. You are one of the strongest people (not women) I know. You keep a lot of us together, and I don’t think you know it. You have done such an amazing job raising Ava and it shows. She is destined to be a remarkable young lady. Hell, she already is. Lu, you deserve all the love and security you give to all of us. You are an amazing woman and you inspire me each day through your love and grace. Keep working towards your goals and get shit done per usual. I love you. 

Mikey

You save lives, homeboy! You have been the funniest person I’ve known since you were in middle school. Til this day, I tell people your jokes/quotes because that's how funny you are! In a world where there is so much turmoil and chaos, I always know that when you’re around, we’ll all end up crying from laughter. I’ve also seen you grow from a little kid who clapped his feet together when he would shoot a jumper to a whole ass man who is handling his business! Stay creative through the music and the jokes. You are appreciated!

Mrs. Crystal

You have been a second mother to me and welcomed me into your family without hesitation. Thank you for loving me like I was one of your own. More than anything, thank you for being the matriarch and birthing 4 of the most amazing people in my life. They have kept me kicking, laughing, drinking, and loving. You are so appreciated ❤️

A few months ago after Kwame’s birthday, I left the house to “go to the store” and all my soulmates were there (Brian was on Facetime at some point lol). I came back and walked in and Biggy’s “One More Chance” was playing on Mikey’s turn tables. I will never forget how it felt to walk into that energy. It brought tears to my eyes. That was home. Y’all are home. I believe that I’m so content with my solitude because I have everyone that I need. Yall are everything that I need. Anyone else is just an accent.

Thank you for loving me.