#instead but like when did that happen I was in the trenches in 2017 why did we switch

[wiser-girl]

[oh-mother-of-darkness]

hello this isnt abt batfam or batman but i saw your age and was wondering how do i survive till 23? i am 18 now and 5 more years is very hard to survive please help

Interesting question. I turn 24 in ten days, and sometimes even I’m not sure. I guess I’ll talk about how I personally stayed alive this long before I try to give advice.

The very first thing I would say is that I am religious, and that worldview makes a difference. I don’t mean that in a “everything happens for a reason” kind of way, and as a matter of fact, I very much dislike that line of thinking. It does a lot of damage, and I’m aware that it rightly puts a lot of people off from religion in general. 

I hold two beliefs that I think are helpful in terms of survival. First, I believe that humans are by nature bad. Counterintuitive in this conversation? Stick with me. Every day, but especially at my lowest moments, I hate the things that I am. In a metaphorical sense, my mind whispers to me that I am selfish, that I am cowardly, that I think bad things and I am capable of worse. I’m hateful, I’m terrifying, and I am absolutely broken. At my core, there is something fundamentally wrong, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t fix it. 

I am disgusting. I’m several thousand evil things in a trench-coat pretending to be anything but myself, and I’m not fooling anyone. 

Well, yeah. Yeah, I’m all those things and more: manipulative, lying, self-obsessed, angry, unforgiving, and judgmental. I could, of course, go on.

Here’s the thing-- everybody is. I am no better and no worse than any other person in the universe, and though I am ever abhorrent thing, I am. I have the same dignity, the same worth, and the same life as any human anywhere. The dark things are part and parcel of my humanity, but although I am not good, I do good. 

I will never be perfect because that just isn’t possible, but I can be kind. I can be loving, I can be strong, and I can be wise. 

Shit, doesn’t that set me free?

There’s a lot more to this conversation, and the rest goes, in brief, like this: at the bottom of the darkness that is every soul, we have one great fear-- if I am truly evil, no one will ever love me. Good news on that front, there is a God who does. If that’s something you want to talk about, hey hit me up. I’ll evangelize on my own time. 

Back to it. My second belief is a kind of understanding about the passage of time, and it’s sort of hard to boil down into a few sentences, but I’ll try my best. I believe in a grand struggle between good and evil. I know the beginning of that struggle. I know the end of that struggle: that good will win. I am a part of the middle. 

I see my role in the universe as extraordinary small but absolutely necessary. I have a two-fold purpose-- love God, love humans. I interpret both as a call to help others in any way I can, and I think in the way my life has worked out so far, that’s really the most important thing keeping me alive. 

I see all of this through the frame of my religion, but I would argue that everything I’ve said so far is applicable outside of that frame, because a lot of folks get to the same place from a fully secular point of view. I cannot be perfect. I should care about and fight for other people. That’s really all we’re working from here. 

A few years back, when people asked me this question-- how do you stay alive?-- I used to answer “spite,” and that’s not untrue. I am a very angry person, and the grand majority of that anger is directed at what I perceive as unjust acts. I have a deep-seated hatred of establishments (including the established church), and you’d be shocked at how much of a motivator that can be. 

I grew up in an environment that was very intentional in teaching me to identify injustice. Though I have radically departed from many of the teachings of my childhood, the part about fighting for others was something I learned at day one, and that bit has stuck around. For the most part, I grew up in an environment where everyone was on the same page about it. 

And theeeeeeen I went to undergrad. Hello, Texas A&M. I hit campus as an 18 year old fully incapacitated by anxiety. I was the kind of person who didn’t-- in fact couldn’t-- speak in front of others. I had always lived my life in a way that minimized myself, because if I never spoke, if I never disagreed, if I never drew attention, I would never make anyone angry. I knew from experience that angry people hurt me, and I was afraid of pain. 

Then I experienced the absolute shenaniganry of conservative Texans. The culture shock sent me to space and back, and on the return trip I decided that I couldn’t be quiet anymore. 

I learned to speak my freshman year so that I could scream FUCK YOU. It was incredibly painful, and I can’t tell you exactly how I managed it other than I was angry, and I didn’t want to lose. 

I fought a similar battle on my homefront against parents that didn’t know how to deal with a daughter that disagreed, or even worse, a daughter that wasn’t okay. I wasn’t a perfect child anymore. I knew I had anxiety, I knew I was depressed, and we all knew who I blamed for that. They hadn’t been the perfect parents they thought they were. 

I found myself growing, little by little, into a person that could write and argue and hold her ground. That’s personal growth for sure, but it didn’t necessarily help my mental health. As a matter of fact, my health declined all through undergrad, and in my third and final year, I cracked.

I was desperate. I was isolated. I was flooded by fear and despair, and I was falling apart. I don’t remember huge chunks of undergrad because I was so depressed that the memories didn’t stick, but I do remember my tipping point.

It was something small. The ceiling fan in my bedroom was broken. The lighting chain worked fine, but if anyone pulled the fan chain, the whole thing would stop working. I mixed up which chain was which, pulled the wrong cord, and broke it for the fourth time. 

For some reason, that was it. I lay down on my floor and cried for an hour, and while I did, my mind went to, as the kids say, a dark place. Finally, I called my mom and begged for psychiatric medication, something I had always been afraid to ask for. At the time, my parents believed that antidepressants were overprescribed, and they mocked parents that let their children take them. 

At around the same time, I was deciding what to do with my life. I was about to graduate, and I had always wanted to be a kindergarten teacher. Instead, everyone in my life pushed me towards law school. I didn’t know what to do, but I began fantasizing, not about going to law school exactly, but about being the kind of person that could go to law school. 

I knew that law school would be entail public speaking and constant conflict and the kind of work that would be hard for a person who sometimes couldn’t leave her bed. I wanted to be someone who could do all of that, but I didn’t believe I was.

Enter Donald Trump. Post-November 2016, I struggled to understand how something like that could happen, and I watched everyone else deal with it too. I began confused, moved to distraught, then returned to what I always am: angry.

January 2017 was the inauguration and shortly afterwards, the “Muslim ban.” I read the news on my bedroom floor, and there was one specific part that stuck out to me. There were pictures of lawyers flooding the airports. There was a court case headed for SCOTUS.

I suddenly realized that one group-- one very select group-- was doing what I was powerless to accomplish. I hated establishments, and there was one group that could challenge and change them. Some people could fight in the way I wanted to, and those people were lawyers.

I have a very distinct memory of looking into the bathroom mirror of my third-year apartment and thinking, “I will be miserable for the rest of my life, no matter what I do or what career I pick. I might as well be a miserable lawyer.”

So I took my antidepressants and I went to law school. I’m not going to rehash everything that happened there in this particular post, because in this topic, I don’t think it matters. The relevant part is that I went, and I had my reason why.

Sure as hell can tell you that law school wasn’t good for my health. The last three years have been, in terms of sheer stress and despair, the worst of my life. I picked up a self-harm habit, endured consistent humiliation, cycled through six different antidepressants, had horrible relationships, and developed a psychotic disorder. Don’t get me wrong, there were good things too. I met people that are important me, and beyond that, I grew. 

I know that 18 year old me would be absolutely flabbergasted by the woman I am now, cracks and flaws included. I wouldn’t say I’m healthy or okay, but I am more healthy and more okay. I’m coming out of this mess with the institutional power I wanted, and now I get to decide what to do with it. 

I was wrong three years ago when I looked in that bathroom mirror. I know now that I won’t be miserable for the rest of my life. I’m going to be happy someday, and to the parts of me that say otherwise: fuck you. I’ve learned to say it now. 

I graduated law school this week, and this month, I’ve felt better than I ever have before. I’m singing again, I dropped two medications, and suddenly, everything is so, so funny. I’ve been laughing so hard my face hurts the day after. 

This is a huge turning point in my life, so I’ve been meditating on my past. I’ve come to the conclusion that in most of the ways that matter, I won. My family has been forced to accept what I am. I became the person I wanted to be, even though I thought I wasn’t capable of that. 

I know for sure that there will be times in my life where I hit rock bottom again, and that’s not gonna be fun. It’s likely that with my mental health issues, I will always have to work harder than my peers to get the same results. That’s unfair. 

I also know that high points exist, and I will have them. I am having them, and I will again. 

I guess in recap, I know that I have deep flaws and ugly parts, but I am at peace with that. I know that I must help others, and in pursuit of that goal, I became a person I like more than the girl I used to be. 

You have exactly the same potential. I want you to know that whatever you are now, that’s not your forever. Circumstances change, and you will change too. We’re human, you and I, and that’s an exciting thing to be. 

Your worth comes from your humanity itself, both evil and good, not the things you do or the fights you win. You never have to compare yourself to others because you are exactly the same as everybody else-- no better, but certainly no worse. You’re a person. That’s enough. 

I’m telling you all those things, and as advice, I’ll say this: get angry and fight. Fight for others. You can help them, and you should. Fight for yourself. You are worthy of respect, and everyone else should give it to you. Fight yourself. Any part of you that preaches despair is wrong. 

Find the thing that makes you angry and use it. Things are fucked up! There’s a lot to be angry about. I put it this way to my classmates, now my attorney peers: you get one hill to die on. What’s your hill? Go and defend it. 

Here’s an interesting thing, anon. Your hill can be yourself. There’s nothing wrong with that. You’re right. Five years is a lot, and all the years beyond that are more. Take your antidepressants and go.

[swanlake1998]

Article: The Radiant Sarah-Gabrielle Ryan: Why She's One to Watch at Pacific Northwest Ballet

Date: March 1, 2021

By: Marcie Sillman

Hollywood could make a movie about Sarah-Gabrielle Ryan's big break at Pacific Northwest Ballet.

It was November 2017, and the company was performing Crystal Pite's film-noir–inspired Plot Point, set to music by Bernard Hermann from Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho. Ryan, then a first-year corps member, originally was understudying the role of another dancer. But when principal Noelani Pantastico was injured in a car accident, Ryan was tapped to take over her role.

Ryan had danced featured roles before, including Maria in Jerome Robbins' West Side Story Suite. But she had just one day to learn Pite's choreography. It was a daunting task, but she was determined not to squander her shot. After a session in the studio with Pantastico, Ryan went home and rehearsed for hours in her living room. "I learned the hell out of that role," she laughs.

Her hard work paid off. When she hurtled onto the stage, draped in a gray trench coat, she stared at the body sprawled on the floor, turned to the audience, her dark eyes opened wide in shock, and let out a horrified scream. The audience was rapt.

"The expectation was that we'd throw her onstage and she'd be tentative," says Pacific Northwest Ballet artistic director Peter Boal. "But she gave a really strong performance."

Ryan's success in Plot Point led to a string of featured roles at PNB, from the Sugarplum Fairy in George Balanchine's The Nutcracker to work by David Dawson and Donald Byrd. But Ryan is no overnight sensation; her success is the result of years of training, discipline and a passion for her art form. That passion also buoyed her during an on-going struggle with body-image issues, and her decision to establish her career a continent away from her close-knit Philadelphia family.

Early Successes—and Struggles

Ryan, now 23, has been dancing since she was 3 years old, when her parents enrolled her in tap, jazz and ballet classes at a local dance studio. At age 5, her teacher recommended she pursue more rigorous ballet training at Philadelphia's acclaimed Rock School for Dance Education.

Ryan flew up the levels there, and by the age of 12, she'd advanced to the top, the youngest student in her classes. Although she held her own with high-school–aged peers, Ryan knew she was different. "Everyone was older," she says. "You were expected to look a certain way, but I was still going through puberty!"

That didn't stop Pennsylvania Ballet, which then did not have an affiliated school, from casting Ryan in its annual Nutcracker. Ryan was 10 when she danced her first role, a toy soldier. Miami City Ballet School director Arantxa Ochoa was a principal dancer with Pennsylvania Ballet at the time, but she noticed the young dancer.

"I just remember her beautiful eyes and big smile," Ochoa recalls.

Five years later, when Ryan enrolled in Pennsylvania Ballet's newly revived school, Ochoa was her teacher. "She was that ideal student," says Ochoa. "Hard worker. Very smart, very talented. To me, she had that thing, that 'It' factor."

Ochoa wasn't the only one to notice her potential. Ryan continued to win roles in Pennsylvania Ballet productions, including Balanchine's "Diamonds," videotaped for PBS. At 16, she was offered a contract with Pennsylvania Ballet's second company. From the outside, it looked like the culmination of Ryan's dream.

The reality was less idyllic. Ryan had struggled with body-image issues since her early years at the Rock School; she was particularly self-conscious about the size and shape of her thighs. She remembers one Rock School teacher asking if her Mexican-born mother made good flan. When Ryan replied in the affirmative, he told her she looked like she was enjoying too much of it. Another teacher at the school suggested she go on a liquid diet to drop some weight.

Ryan recalls other "advice," such as being told not to go out into the sun, so that her skin wouldn't get too dark. Although she took that particular comment in stride, it compounded her self-consciousness about her appearance. It also strengthened her resolve to work harder in the studio.

At PBII, Ryan was determined to show she had what it takes to succeed as a professional ballerina. But while artistic director Angel Corella told the young dancer that he liked her dancing, she says he advised her to slim down or risk fewer onstage opportunities. She valued his feedback, and her long relationship with Pennsylvania Ballet, but Ryan knew it was time to look for opportunities outside her hometown. She focused her attention on Seattle.

A New Home

Ryan had attended Pacific Northwest Ballet's summer intensive the summer after joining PBII. She was among 30 young women enrolled in Peter Boal's class that summer—all excellent dancers, he says—but Ryan stood out.

"She had this kind of go-for-broke presence," Boal says. "A gutsiness." He made a mental note. A year later, when Ryan contacted him about an audition, Boal invited her to attend class when the company toured to New York City. At the end of that class, Boal offered Ryan a contract; she joined PNB as an apprentice in the fall of 2016.

"I loved PNB's rep, I loved the idea of working for Peter," Ryan says. Although she was scared about moving across the country, she calls it "good scared."

Ryan credits Boal with helping to free her from her self-image issues, but that didn't happen overnight. During her apprentice year, Ryan attended class in "trash bag pants," concerned that if Boal saw her thighs he'd decide not to cast her. She braced herself for the all-too familiar weight talk.

It never came.

But Boal noticed Ryan's tension, how she seemed intent on proving herself every time he was teaching class or watching rehearsal. He took her aside and explained that he'd hired her for a reason—he liked her dancing—and advised Ryan simply to dance for her own love of it. By the end of her apprentice year, new contract in hand, Ryan felt she'd found a true ballet home.

Ryan also credits her new-found comfort to the camaraderie she feels at PNB. She gravitated to a small group of Latinx dancers, who reminded her of her close-knit Philadelphia family. Ryan's mother is Mexican; her father grew up in Belize. The family identifies as Latin American, speaks Spanish at home and celebrates especially their Mexican heritage. Ryan was particularly touched when one colleague, a Seattle-area native, brought her samples of Mexican dishes her own mother had prepared. Small gestures like this helped ease the young dancer's homesickness.

Ryan had another reason to embrace her new city: Not long after she joined PNB, she caught the eye of a fellow dancer, principal Kyle Davis. They've been partners onstage and off for the past three years. "She's fantastic to work with," Davis says. "She's intelligent, open to discussing how steps work and how we can better work together. I personally think that's a phenomenal quality in a partner."

Finding Her Voice

During this long pandemic year, Davis and Ryan have had ample opportunity to explore their partnership. They share a Seattle apartment with two miniature Australian shepherds, Hawk and Magpie, who make frequent cameos during the online classes the couple both take and teach.

PNB's 2020-21 season is all-digital, and when the dancers returned to the studio last August, only those who co-habitated could partner one another. In the company's opening program, Ryan and Davis reprised the pas de deux from Balanchine's "Rubies." While dancing for cameras instead of live audiences hasn't been ideal, Ryan says she's learned how to use her face to convey emotions in a more intimate way, instead of playing to the second balcony.

Beyond the pandemic, the past year also ushered in frank national conversations about race and racism, which freed Ryan to speak more openly about her Latin heritage. "It gave me a voice I didn't always have before," Ryan says. "I always knew I was different, especially in ballet, but didn't often talk about it."

Last fall she encouraged PNB to acknowledge Hispanic Heritage Month. But she also wants to see ballet open its ranks to more dancers of color, and to see them advance to the upper echelons of companies like PNB.

Perhaps she'll be one of those dancers; at 23, she still has a long career ahead of her. Although she dreams of dancing the iconic classical roles—Giselle, Juliet and Kitri—Ryan also looks forward to the contemporary ballets that are a PNB mainstay.

Boal believes she can do whatever she sets her mind to. "Some dancers, there is no ceiling to their capability," Boal says. "Sarah-Gabrielle Ryan is one of them."

[ibelieveinharrystyles]

Chapter Eight: A Whole New World

Forever? Masterlist

16th January 2017 “Harry what do I wear?” Ashley asked her best friend bluntly from the other end of the phone as she riffled through her chaotically messy wardrobe. 

“You woke me up at five in the morning to ask me what you should wear? I thought something serious  had happened.” Harry mumbled, his head resting comfortably on his pillow.

“Harry this is a very important day, I need to look the part.”

“Ash, you do know it’s radio, no one is going to see you.” Harry assured her, “But if you want my advice, wear the red roll neck jumper, with those ripped black jeans and Doc Martens.”

“I knew I could count on you Harry.” she sighed.

“I hope it goes well today love.”

“So do I,” she sighed, before proceeding to hang up the phone. 

The tube was eerily quiet compared to Ashley’s usual journey to work, when she worked in the office her shift was 8 till 4, meaning hitting rush hour was inevitable, but getting to work for before 6AM meant an early tube, dropping Daisy off at the childminders on the way. Ashley was grateful that her journey was now somewhat more bearable, even despite the early wake up time, the only other commuters were those travelling in to the city for early starting jobs, and the people who had got drunk the night before and had spent the whole night asleep, travelling the whole length of the northern line. She hurried through the empty tube station, making sure not to be late. In an attempt to make a good impression on her fellow colleagues she stopped off at a nearby bakery that had just opened for the early morning rush, picking up a variation of croissants, pastries and donuts. 

Ashley hadn’t felt intimidated by the Capital FM offices since the day she started the internship, she hurried through, most desks were empty as the majority of people didn’t start work until what was deemed a more ‘sociable’ hour of the day. “Morning Ash, how are you feeling?” Roman greeted her as she entered the office kitchen, placing the box of pastries on the side, and continuing to make herself a cup of tea.

“Nervous, but in a good way I guess,” Ashley told him, taking a bite on a pain au chocolat.

“You’re going to be great, I’ll make sure to ease you into it, I’ll introduce you and you can talk as and when you feel comfortable, there’s no pressure, I promise.” Roman assured her, picking a croissant from the box, “The big bosses have also said can we call you Ash when we are on air? Something about coming across as more relatable.”

“Sure, everyone I’m close to calls me that anyway, I mean you’ve called me that ever since I have worked here.” 

“That’s great, you have about fifteen minutes to sort yourself out before we go live,” He explained.

“Alright Ro, cheers,” 

“Good morning, you are listening to the Capital Breakfast show on a wonderful, yet slightly murky Monday morning, with me Roman Kemp, and for the first time, my new co-host Ash Hanson.” Roman chimed, resulting in cheers and woops from the producers and tech team who were present in the studio, “Ash, I’ll let you introduce yourself.”

“I’m Ash. I've worked at capital for about a year now. I'm originally from the North of England, and most people probably know me for being good friends with a curly haired member of a little British boy band, who you might have heard of.” Somehow talking about Harry and the band made her nerves disappear.

“So Ash, can I assume that with you being so close to the One Direction boys, you have a few stories that would make the lives of me and my fellow One Direction fans a lot better?” Roman asked her.

“I won’t lie I’ve seen a lot, particularly at the after parties, but they are all sound lads, there’s some stuff I probably can’t tell you on air, because frankly I wouldn’t be surprised if at least one of them is listening.” Ashley told him.

“And obviously we’ve heard a bit of solo stuff from Zayn, Louis and Niall, if you had to pick one of the boys based on their solo music who would you choose?” Roman asked.

“That is a tough one, I think based on what we’ve heard so far, I’d have to say Niall.” 

“Well on that One Direction related note, here’s This Town, on Capital Breakfast.” Roman said, before flicking a switch that meant their voices were no longer heard on air.

“Was that alright?” Ashley asked, taking a quick swig of her water.

“You’re doing great, you’ve got the  knack of it already.”

“Taxi for Miss Hanson.” Ashley looked up as she exited Capital, seeing an all too familiar Audi parked outside, Harry stood leant against it, wearing a black trench coat over a grey hoodie and black skinny jeans, with a pair of sunglasses on top of his head to push back his messy hair.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, approaching her best friend.

“Can’t I pick up my best friend after her first day of her new job?” He asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

“It’s lovely of you to come down here, I just wasn’t expecting it, that's all.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“I mean I guess I wouldn’t say no.”

“Good, because you need to line your stomach.” Harry explained, as the pair of them climbed into his car.

“Why’s that?” she asked.

“We’re going out tonight.”

“There are two major factors that go against that Styles,” She told him, “Firstly I have a six month old daughter who is far too young to be left home alone, secondly I have work first thing in the morning.”

“Firstly, Daisy is going to have a sleepover at Auntie Gemma’s house, Secondly, you can stay in my spare bedroom, I’ll drive you to work in the morning.”

“What am I going to wear? I’ve spent the last year in tracksuit bottoms.”

“Well after our brunch, we’re going to Oxford Street to get you a new outfit.” Harry explained, parking up outside The Ivy.

“What’s all this in aid of?” Ashley asked, leaning her head back against the headrest.

“You Ashley Hanson, need to get laid.” Harry smirked.

“When did you reach that conclusion?”

“Well you aren’t coming to America for my birthday, so I thought we’d celebrate early, and I could wingman you.”

“Why don’t we try and get you laid instead?” Ashley insisted.

“Oh darling, I do not need any help in that department.”

“I’m so happy for you Harry, but frankly I’m not at a point in my life where getting laid is something I want to do, Daisy is my main priority.”

“Can we at least go out for my birthday tonight? Pretty please?” Harry asked, looking at her and fluttering his eyelashes.

“Alright! But I want to go to a nice bar, not some mad club.”

“It’s a deal.”

“Are you sure about this Harry?” Ashley asked, looking herself up and down in the full length mirror in Harry’s bathroom.

“We’re going to have a great time.” Harry assured her from his bedroom, next door to the bathroom.

““You really think this looks okay?” Ashley asked, entering Harry's bedroom, she had gone for a black glittery bodycon dress paired with red heels.

“You look beautiful,” Harry told her, taken aback by his best friend who stood before him.

“I’m not sure about this dress, I’ve still got mum tum from when I was pregnant, and my boobs haven’t been the same since I started breastfeeding.” Ashley sighed, shrugging off the fact that Harry calling her beautiful made her stomach flutter.

“Love you wouldn’t even know you had given birth six months ago, and there is nothing wrong with your boobs,” Harry assured her.

“Have you been looking at my boobs Styles?” Ashley questioned, turning to look at her friend.

“Taxi’s here.” Harry replied, making a quick exit downstairs.

As promised Harry took Ashley to a swanky North London bar, the sort that you could only get into if you were well known, and with Harry being Harry, that was easy. Ashley and Harry’s previous attempts at nights out hadn’t ever really ended well, there was the night out in LA when the paparazzi gave Ashley a hard time, and Harry had to effectively cover her, and there was Ashley’s 18th, which resulted in a fight between Ashley and a fan. “Why are we here Harry?” Ashley asked him, taking a sip of her pornstar martini.

“To celebrate my birthday obviously.” Harry replied.

“I mean you’re Harry Styles, you could take literally anyone for drinks, but you chose me, a single mum, who lives in a one bedroom flat in South London and most of the time has either baby sick or milk on my clothes.”

“I didn’t want to take literally anyone out, you’re my best friend, you always have been, you always will be, I find it hard to trust people Ash, I’ve been screwed over by so many people who want to be friends with Harry the celebrity, not Harry from Holmes Chapel who would rather spend the night in watching a cheesy romcom than go to some overly prestigious party, and I’ve never had to worry about that when it comes to you,” Harry explained.

It was almost midnight when they arrived back at Harry's, both of them feeling a little bit tipsy from the several cocktails they had consumed, “Ash, lets dance,” Harry took hold of his best friend’s hand, leading her into the kitchen.

“Harry, I have work in like six hours,” Ashley whined.

“Please, if it was my actual birthday we would be dancing together,” Harry begged, holding both of Ashley’s hands in his.

“Alright one song, then I’m going to bed.” Harry opened his phone shuffling his music, the first song that blared out of his surround sound was Still The One by Shania Twain, Harry took hold of Ashley, one hand on her waist whilst he used his free hand to hold her hand, the pair swayed along to the song, Ashley’s head resting against Harry’s chest, breathing in the smell of his aftershave mixed with the alcohol from the cocktails he had drunk. Ashley smiled up at her friend, his smile beamed back at her, edging his face closer to hers, their lips mere millimetres apart, she knew exactly what was about to happen, “No Harry, we don’t do that, you’re drunk.” She stepped back from his embrace.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s fine, I’ll see you in the morning,” she muttered before quickly exiting the kitchen.

“I meant it, I am sorry.”

“Good night Harry.”

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 57

I just realized this morning that I have been consistently updating chapters for just over a year now. The first 5 chapters of this story were just kind of helter-skelter when I first joined Tumblr in 2017.  I re-posted them from my main to this blog on September 11, 2018, before starting my weekly chapters with number 6 the following day. 

In that year, I have gathered 431 followers, several regular re-bloggers, some new friends, and two very good online friends who I adore (@charlylimph-blog and @baelpenrose, I’m looking at y’all).

Thank you, everyone, for being so supportive of this story and all the other stories I’ve posted on here.

With that said, here’s today’s chapter. I hope you all enjoy!

I woke up in the middle of the night with a groan. Groggy, I reached for my wrist to turn off my alarm, only to realize that it had never gone off. Why am I awake? my tired brain slogged to figure out. It wasn’t a noise, as far as I could tell – the room was too quiet for that, and Conor was still snoring beside me. Slowly, I started to realize that it was entirely too quiet.  I reached across the snoring lump beside me, and found what I had expected: cold sheets.  Maverick had gotten up in the middle of the night.

Gently, I got up and padded out into the public space of our quarters. Sure enough, a tousled head of black hair was poking over the back of the arm chair.  I could hear a low murmur and realized he was talking to someone.  Maverick wasn’t the kind to keep secrets, so instead of indulging my vast capacity to be nosy, I cleared my throat to let him know I was there.

A hand popped up and waved me over. “I couldn’t sleep, so I was talking to Dad.” Nothing in me was surprised by the fact that he was having a conversation with a man who died over thirty Terran years ago.  It probably didn’t hurt that it was a pretty frequent occurrence.

Sure enough, as I came around the chair to sit with him, Maverick was holding a photo of his dad in one hand, the other held out in invitation to curl up on his lap. “Good morning, Mr. Okima,” I yawned at the photo before kissing Maverick’s cheek. “You can’t sleep either?”

“You know Dad doesn’t sleep.”

“I meant you, silly.”

“Oh.” He squeezed me before setting down the photo. “Nah, I’ve been having nightmares lately.  Not the normal kind, with you and Conor getting tired of me and leaving me. These are more the horror movie kind. Voices whispering, I can’t find whoever it is, I don’t know if they want to hurt me or need help, that kind of thing.”

My chest ached at how casually he mentioned his ‘normal’ nightmares, but I bit back my automatic argument. The three of us had talked about it in depth, not long after we agreed to make things official, and we all had our baggage that we were working through.  Instead, I cleared my throat and tried to focus on the more immediate issue. “Have you ever had nightmares like that before?”

He tilted his head briefly before resting his cheek on my hair. “Sometimes. Usually after someone I was close with died.”

“Is talking with your dad helping?” No one had died on the ship, to my knowledge, so I was clueless where the bad dreams were coming from.

“Usually does.  I started writing him letters about a year after he was gone, but my aunt kept finding them. I didn’t really understand death when I was six, so I thought I could send the letters to Japan and he would come find me. It made her angry, so she…”

I knew this part of the story. She made him watch her burn them. It was horrible. “So you started talking to him instead,” I prompted.

“Yeah.” I could feel his smile against my head. “When I got older and understood better, it just made sense, you know? The words go out into the universe, and they’re everywhere, so that meant they could find him wherever he was.”

I nodded in agreement. “I did the same thing after I lost Jo, talking to her. It made me feel better, and I was twenty,” I poked his side for emphasis.

“I know.”

“Think you can sleep now?” I asked, looking up at him.

“Maybe.” He held me tighter instead of moving to stand.  “What about you?”

“I woke up because you weren’t there,” I admitted.

A small smile crept on his face. “But I snore the worst of the three of us,” he pointed out.

“And I need that snore to sleep.  Come on, we’ll put you in the middle this time.  I think nightmares mean you need it more right now.” I stood and gently tugged him to his feet, wrapping my arms around his waist.  I had never been a short woman, so I loved how small I felt with both of them and took a moment to bask in the feeling. After a moment, we made our way back to the bedroom.

As soon as we were at the foot of the bed, Conor made it clear that he was also awake.  Unceremoniously, he lifted the blankets in a clear command to come back to bed. Giggling, I crawled in after Maverick and leaned over to drop a kiss on Conor’s forehead.  He wrapped around our pilot like an octopus before nuzzling into the bend of his neck.  “Stupid gits, awake at all hours of the night. How’s a man supposed to sleep in an empty bed?”

Maverick rolled his eyes to me before scooping me in close so we could all grab a couple more hours of sleep.

 The next morning, I was feeling my midnight chat but fought it off to focus on the task at hand. True to my word, I stopped by Xiomara’s office before I even stopped at my own. Without looking up from my datapad, I started talking as soon as the door opened. “Xio, I wanted to make sure you heard about what happened in BioLab 2 yesterday – “

“Good Morning, Councillor Reid,” a calm voice interrupted.

My head snapped up.  Looked like Tyche and I were wrong about Grey forgetting to tell Xiomara, although not by much if their postures were anything to go by. “Oh, good morning, Grey!” I blinked, eyes wide. “I honestly thought you would still be asleep, given how late Maverick got home last night.”

Rubbing their face, they sighed. “I sincerely wish I was still asleep rather than still awake,” they admitted. Only then did I notice the dark circles around their eyes. “I have promised myself that I will sleep after I meet with Councillor Kalloe, so please do not let yourself worry.”

I scowled at my friend, as I was working up a full head of steam to nag her into a nap. “Well, it looks like we had the same idea, at least as far as making sure Xiomara is in the loop.”

The woman in question rubbed her eyes with one hand, groaning. “This sounds like a nightmare already, if both of you have come charging in here so early.  So, let’s hear it.”  I gestured silently for Grey to speak, knowing that they had far more information on everything than I did. As I patiently waited for them to give the brief version and send all the data already collected over, I was treated to a rollercoaster of expression from the head of Health and Safety.

Finally, Grey was finished.  As soon as they made their excuses and left, the anticipated explosion erupted forth. “I cannot believe this!” she shouted. “Grey, I understand – they were trying to get on top of it as quickly as possible, especially with the scrutiny their department would be under. And you!” she pointed her finger at me sharply. “You had no reason to know any sooner than you did, and that idiot is working both of your partners to the bone. You are excused from my wrath,” she spat. I struggled to keep a smile off my face; Xio may get impressively furious, but she always made sure to target her weaponized anger at the right target. “But Giang flipping Huynh could have told me this yesterday!” Her voice had dropped to something eerily between a hiss and a growl. “We have no idea how many people on this ship are at risk or could have been hurt. I have to get down there, check out the lab, check the logs…”

“Xiomara,” I interrupted, grabbing her forearms gently and wiggling them. “Xio. I completely agree that you should have been informed much sooner.  But going down there right now will not help, especially when Grey already gave you all the data gathered by the research lab yesterday.”

“It helps me think – “

“You would have to be thinking clearly first, and you know it,” I told her firmly, pointing to her seat.  With the closest thing to a pout I had ever seen on her face, she sat down.  Her generally dangerous-looking grace gave it a very feline air of I’m sitting because I want to, not because you told me. “Now. Coffee.  I know you’re furious, and I don’t blame you.  Being there yesterday was enough to set Conor into a fit of anger bad enough that he scared a couple people.  And your temper is much worse than his.” I grabbed the two cups of coffee I had dialed up – one iced, light, and sweet, the other hot and as black as I could manage to get it – and set her customary jet fuel in front of her. “Coffee first, then look over the data. Once you know what to expect, then go down there and see it for yourself.”

“I take it Huynh is nowhere near the lab.”

“Nope. And I am being very careful not to know where he is so that I can’t tell you that, either.”

“Mmm hmm,” she hummed as she sipped her coffee. “And it has nothing to do with the fact that he is coming down hard on your men?”

“Not a thing,” I lied smoothly. “I will admit to being a bit miffed that Alistair’s swimming lessons are being postponed until future notice, though.”

She arched a brow. “No swimming at all?”

“Just until you look over the results Grey gave you regarding the water, so you can approve re-opening the general area and only cordon off the diving platforms. Hence asking you to review the data before you go storming empty trenches.”

I was awarded with a regal nod. “Hide my quarry and keep the information hostage until I perform a heroic task. Wise decision.”

“I try,” I smirked. At least she was in a good mood again. Feel more confident with the odds of her looking at Grey’s report first, I stood to leave. “Time to check in with my mermaid-resistant admin and see what’s on the agenda for today.”

“Has Conor considered sparring?”

“He considered it just long enough to summarily reject it.  I’m thinking running, or dance.” I glanced at her slyly. “Or maybe capoeira?” It was an open secret that Xiomara taught classes in her scant spare time.

She laughed and waved me out of her office. “Just make sure that Grey doesn’t come back on shift today, okay?”

I groaned. “That’s going to be nearly impossible, but I’ll try.  And we may need to consider re-visiting shipwide treatments for anxiety and sleep disorders.  Last night, Antoine mentioned that the reactions to the recent adjustment in gravity are exceeding what we anticipated.”

“And I need Grey for that,” she sighed. “The same person who needs to sleep.” She ran a hand through her hair, toying with the end of one dreadlock while she thought. “Miys.  If Grey Hodenson tries to go back to work, can you alert me immediately?  I want to discuss this with them, and it may be best if I bring up the topic when they are most aware of symptoms.”

“Clever girl,” I murmured, grinning. “That’s something I would do.”

She tossed me a wink. “You aren’t the only one picking up tricks.”

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[amplesalty]

The Invisible Man (2020)

You can’t see me!

The classic Universal Monsters lineup has been something of a frequent talking point on this blog, as has the ongoing attempts to reboot it in the realm of an Marvel style shared universe. Not so much ongoing anymore mind you. As mentioned during last October’s ‘House of Dracula’ post, everything has been scaled back and moving forward any entries are going to be more standalone stories. Maybe Marvel has a lot to answer for for making the concept of a shared universe so desirable to its competitors. Big business will always strive to copy the success of someone else so it was only natural that Universal and DC would set out to make its own version of it but both to limited success and both have ended up scaling back their visions. I don’t know if the shared universe idea was really that prominent beforehand and there’s only the odd one or two since like building towards the next Godzilla vs King Kong or the crossover between Unbreakable and Split leading to Glass.

For this Dark Universe, without looking into it properly it can be a little confusing knowing exactly what was meant to be part of it. I guess that’s just due to the public domain status of a lot of these characters. 2017’s The Mummy was the first time I remember hearing about the shared universe idea, mostly down to them announcing the wider casting for characters like Jekyll and The Invisible Man. But there’s been other notable monster related movies released, just off the top of my head over the last decade or so we’ve had Dracula Untold, I Frankenstein and Victor Frankenstein. Turns out only Dracula from that list was in universe but, as is tradition, got quickly downplayed when it underperformed. And that’s not even mentioning all the less well known releases that have come out. I never saw any of the those though, Victor Frankenstein is probably one I would look at due to McAvoy and Radcliffe. The Mummy holds a certain morbid curiosity in spite of its horrible reviews, maybe just to get a glimpse of what it is they were going for as I know Jekyll shows up in that one.

No doubt due to my affinity towards the 1933 Invisible Man, I was compelled to actually go see this remake but managed to stay entirely away from any hype or even basic details about the movie. I’ve had the trailer come up a few times on my Twitter timeline but avoided that as I’d heard that it basically gives away most of the movie. The first chance for me to really get an idea about the film was in the rating card shown just before it started which mentions the usual strong language, graphic violence etc etc but right there at the end is domestic abuse. If that wasn’t enough, the entire opening of Elisabeth Moss’ Cecilia character trying to sneak away from her controlling boyfriend in the middle of the night, sneaking around the house trying to collect her belongings and trying to not make any noise like she’s in A Quiet Place or something really sets the tone for the overall feeling of manipulation and control that runs throughout the entire piece.

Still haven’t got that legacy collection for the Invisible Man (though it apparently does exist now which it didn’t last time I checked) so perhaps it does a reverse Nightmare on Elm St and gets more serious as it goes along but that 1933 original really was playing silly buggers at times. I’ve probably talked about this before but I remember reading this interview with Jack Black around time he was promoting that Goosebumps movie. He was talking about horror movies that he liked and mentioned the Universal movies, The Invisible Man specifically highlighting its slapstick comedy that he likened to the Three Stooges. Obviously that’s a big part of why I love that version but this is about as polar opposite as you can get.

Here there’s just this dark and oppressive mood throughout, that idea of control transcending the relationship of Cecilia Kass and Adrian Griffin, taking over her entire life and almost beyond the screen itself. For Cecilia, it starts out with her just trying to rebuild her life now that she’s out of this toxic relationship but struggiling to even step foot outside the front door when every little noise puts her in a panic state, thinking that Griffin has tracked her down. As part of the modernisation, Griffin is some sort of tech millionaire dealing in security cameras and systems so that also plays as part as Cecilia is looking up stories about hacking and people taking control of webcams. As an aside, I don’t know what it is about the interior decorating of the super rich that lends itself to just completely empty houses. Like, I dread to think what I would be like with money considering I hoard enough as it is now. I would probably just have a mansion full of junk but I remember thinking this whilst watching Dr. Strange last year, he had this apartment that was just empty bar the odd statue or chair. Here, Griffin’s bedroom seems to be this massive room with one glass wall overlooking the sea, his bed in the centre being the only thing in it.

So even though Cecilia is out of this relationship, she’s not really out of Griffin’s control because he’s still very much in her head even though he’s not around. OR IS HE?!

And this is what I thought was really cool about this movie. It’s one thing to sympathize with this character but at times it felt like I was being manipulated as well. Cecilia would start to feel a presence around her, even if there was no one there that she could see. The visual direction really adds to this as well, using shots that are meant to imply that it’s from someone else’s viewpoint, looking at Cecilia or another part of the house. Or lingering on shots of what is pretty much just empty space for just a little too long, making you think something is about to happen or something is happening in a very subtle way.

It’s a very weird, sort of meta experience because they’ve done nothing up to this point to establish that invisibility is a factor but you obviously know going into it that it is and you can infer that he would be the one to do it since he is the defacto bad guy and if you’re a little more in the know, he’s called Griffin so obvs, right? But whilst they’re lingering on these shots of a sofa or a window frame, I found myself looking for signs of activity; an indentation on the sofa or a rustling of the curtains. I always talk about how I love movies that tread this line of whether or not the threat that is taking place is actually real or just in characters head and this movie is pretty much entirely that, it’s like Gaslighting: The Movie. But worse than that, now it feels like it’s screwing with me and getting in my head. Did I just see those curtains twitch or is it my overactive imagination?

Aside from adding that extra layer of paranoia to Cecilia’s character, the modernisation and use of technology really works well in how they handle the invisibility as well. Felt like a very realistic way to do it. There’s something creepy about the look of it as well, ditching the bandages of the past, though there are a couple of nods to that and that classic trench coat, scarf and hat look.

I think the only thing I was slightly confused with was the relationship between Cecilia and the person she ends up staying with, James. When she first walks out on Griffin, her sister picks her up so I figured he’s her boyfriend and he makes mention that he promised her sister that he’d help her try and get over he agoraphobic tendencies. But then the sister knocks on the door and they don’t act like BF/GF so okay, is there a third sister we’ve not met yet?  Then later on the sister receives an email from ‘Cecilia’ saying that she doesn’t want anything more to do with her and the screen briefly shows snippets of the email, predominantly something along the lines of ‘I wish you had died instead of...’ but you don’t see how she’s referencing. So my thought was that the other sister had died and James was her widow? But I think that’s all me just putting 2 and 2 together and making 5, I guess they’re just old friends and that’s about it.

Overall, really enjoyed the movie and definitely one checking out. Unlike those other modern Universal monster movies it’s actually doing pretty well for itself too, financially and critically. Where does the Dark Universe go from here? Well, apparently there were no post credits for this (as I read and didn’t bother staying to fact check) but the ending leaves the potential for a sequel. And funnily enough, Elizabeth Banks is attached to direct and star in ‘The Invisible Woman’. Plus there’s still the oft talked about Bride of Frankenstein remake and a Dexter Fletcher directed Renfield movie? That one I would be interested in, always like the Renfield/Harker character in the different Dracula adaptations. That reminds me, never did post about the BBC finale...

[rwbyconversations]

Why has Adam proved controversial after Volume 6?

Fandom is a culture that is constantly changing. It’s a culture effectively built around self-sustaining itself through fanart, music videos, fanfiction and discussion theories about the content the fandom is built around to tide them over until the next big release. Taking the RWBY fandom for example, it’s a fandom that’s really only alive for less than two fifths of the average year, from October to January when the volume itself airs. The rest of the year, RWBY’s fandom has to keep itself afloat through self-generation of ideas and the sharing of the aforementioned means of content to tide people over until October comes back around and the season starts anew. Headcanons and fan theories become commonplace and can become exponentially more popular than ever intended thanks to the gap in seasons giving it time to form and gain weight as a theory before canon can prove it wrong. 

What that long period of downtime means is that you can see previously loathed characters come back from the brink and gain a lot of fandom support and approval in the turn of a season. Or alternatively, popular characters can take a swan-dive in popularity, being reduced to joke status that they never recover from. People who swore up and down that “this character is trash and I don’t care what they do with them” suddenly next hiatus are on the other side of the trenches. One season can do a lot for a character in either direction is what I’m saying. 

Because that’s what’s happened the past two years to Adam Taurus. 

Adam after Volume 5 was a turbulent wreck of a character. Humiliated at the end of the season and forced to run with his tail between his legs, while his character lost much of the appeal that it had garnered over the prior four volumes, making him resemble a whiny child LARPing as a doomsday villain. It was a pathetic display for his character, one so infuriating it inspired me to begin writing analysis essays after a heated Discord discussion, and that essay struck a note with many of the people who read it and agreed with the contents therein, especially in regards to how much Haven damaged Adam’s threat factor. People simply weren’t scared of him appearing like they were prior to his smack from Blake, several comments even derisively writing off Blake and Yang’s rematch against Adam in advance because “they made him job before, they’ll do it again.”

 And yet interestingly, within the span of a year, the tides partially turned. With Volume 6 Adam wasn’t widely derided as a joke anymore, but in spite of that, the discussion around him was just as heated as it was last year. Adam was still the core topic of the argument but now the battle lines had been redrawn thanks to his death in the climax of Volume 6. Now it’s become commonplace for RWBY’s discussion communities to deride many of the dime-a-dozen posts about Adam and his “wasted potential” that have been arriving nearly daily like reinforcements to batten at a wall. But why? What changed in just one year that changed the entire argument around Adam? Why are his fans and critics embroiled in a new war to enter the hiatus?  

That’s what I’m trying to set out and accomplish in this essay. I am going to hopefully explain the primary reasons for why Adam is a controversial character following Volume 6, in particular why his fans are dissatisfied with the way his characterization was taken over the course of the show. Keep in m ind that parts of this essay touch on Adam’s abuse so if that’s a thing you’d rather not see, avoid going further. 

1) Headcanons were proven wrong

No one likes being wrong. Just look at students who get fail grades in exams, they’re usually despondent. It’s never something you lose as you grow up, in fact, Being wrong just sucks, to put it bluntly. 

Remember how I mentioned at the beginning that because of the content droughts fandoms experience, headcanons and theories can grow far further than anyone intended? Adam is an example of that happening for three years. 

Adam’s first appearance was in the Black Trailer, released on March 22nd, 2013. He wouldn’t make a significant appearance in the show until Heroes and Monsters, the penultimate episode to Volume 3, released on February 6th of 2016. His only significant appearances between those two dates was a cameo in the Volume 2 finale and V3C7, Beginning of the End, released on January 2nd. 

Adam’s initial appearance left much of his personality vague, barring that he was Blake’s superior, a stoic swordmaster and that he was fighting to liberate the Faunus from humanity with the full intent of taking a pound of flesh from humanity for what they’d done to the Faunus- to quote From Shadows: 

From Shadows, we’ll descend upon the world, take back what you stole, from shadows, we’ll reclaim our destiny, set our future free.

As such, the mental image of Adam that the fandom was given had nearly three years in real life to set in stone, that he was Blake’s former mentor who had fallen into extremism and terror attacks. Some even suspected going off Oobleck and Blake’s interactions in Volume 2 that Adam would receive a redemption from his wicked ways to show as an example of how Blake would redeem the White Fang from its own muck-filled past, or that Adam would need to die in an alternate variant of that story to show how far down the dark path he’d gone. Tauradonna was even a fairly high-profile ship in the early days of the show, being on roughly the same level as Blake/Weiss.

The headcanons were only given further room to grow thanks to adaptations of the Black trailer and early RWBY not taking the time to more properly setup Adam’s true character, in particular the Shirow Miwa adaptation. Miwa’s version of the scene, or at least the localized version, was released across two chapters in April and May of 2016, with the full book getting a physical print in the West in August 2017. Adam in the Miwa adaptation is far more talkative than his canon counterpart and even makes several dry quips throughout the fight:

When they first see the AK-130 guards (”Looks like we’re doing this the hard way” in the trailer): “Looks like all the seats are taken Blake.”

When asked who they are (Adam doesn’t have a line here): “We’re thieves.”

Upon seeing the Spider Droid for the first time: “Tch! He’s one serious baggage clerk.” 

Adam’s dialogue is also softened from his original dialogue to boot: 

“Buy me some time!” “But-” “Do it!” instead now is “Blake, buy me some time.“ “But that’s-” “I just need a second.” Blake also gets to make a quip that “You know... You’re fairly high-maintenance.” 

When Blake’s barrage ends, she says “I did all I could,” and Adam thanks her with “It was more than enough, get back.” All Adam says in the animated version of the scene is “Move!” 

The manga makes a significant addition to the aftermath of the battle, where Blake chides Adam for the ambush being sloppy. Adam initially just smiles as “that’s what you’re here for,” before Blake quickly rebukes him, cutting the train car as she says that the White Fang “not lower itself to bloodshed.” The last we see of Adam in the manga is him standing on the train carriage, pondering to himself “You think this is wrong Blake?” 

A similar change is And “Perfect. Move up to the next car, I’ll set the charges,” is now “There’s at least 5,000 cases. All right, let’s kill the engine.” “What about the crew?” Adam is silent and when Blake presses him for information, the Spider Droid attacks 

Prior to the train attack there is a scene added by the Manga where Blake says that the Dust will be redistributed to Faunus in need. She asks Adam to confirm this and he looks back over his shoulder, lips parsed, and says “Of course.” However the next page has a black box of him saying “Don’t overthink it Blake.”  

The point of this extended summary of the Black Trailer in Miwa’s adaptation is to show that even in adaptations of the trailer, RWBY didn’t do much to dissuade people from forming the headcanon that Adam was simply a fallen revolutionary. In fact the manga smooths out Adam’s rougher edges, making his dialogue less harsh and more sarcastic. Remember as well that these were initially released soon after Volume 3 wrapped and before the commentary confirmation of abuse, meaning that these gave Adam fans one last bit of material to bolster their ideas of what Adam was. 

Obviously, all of these ideas and theories went out the window with Volume 3 Chapter 11 and the subsequent reveal by Miles and Kerry in Volume 3′s commentary track that Adam was in fact an abuser. A lot of his fans didn’t take to this reveal well, which I’ll return to in a future section of this essay, since in part it shot down all of their theories about Adam and made him an irredeemable monster. Adam’s potential redemption was destroyed the moment he slapped Blake. 

It is telling that most of Adam’s more passionate fans are from the early generations of the RWBY fandom who were around since the early trailers, since there’s a sharp divide between those fans and the more common Adam fan reaction of “I like him in spite of the abuse or explicitly only work with AU stories where he isn’t as bad.” Again, no one really likes being wrong, especially when it means accepting you were wrong for nearly three years.

2) The abuser twist

Something that I’ve never liked about Adam’s turn as an abuser was how looking back at Volumes 1 and 2 for evidence of the twist in advance, it’s difficult to find anything concrete. I had this discussion on a server lately where looking at all of Volumes 1 and 2 along with 3′s first half, there was really only one agreed upon sign of abuse prior to V3 in Volume 2- Blake’s flinch when Yang goes to hug her in Burning the Candle. But the problem with that is that even this can be taken into a different context, as one of my friends pointed out. As she reminded the chat, Yang had already shoved Blake several times by that point in the conversation and Blake may have flinched instinctively when she saw Yang’s arms raise again. 

Of course given the context of Adam’s abuse, Blake flinching may in fact have been foreshadowing, or it may have just been her instinctively preparing for another shove. We just don’t know, and that vagueness around Blake’s past and the abuse twist is partly why a lot of fans argue that the abuse twist was never planned in the early stages of the show and was an idea introduced during production. This is not a concept new to RWBY- Monty came up with the Maidens one day while working on Volume 3 after all- but it does mean that for sudden character turns like Adam’s abuse, the question will be raised of “was this always planned or was it just something you added as the story flowed along?” 

Much of the cited evidence that Adam was planned to be an abuser from the early show is in a similarly murky place. Blake speaks of Adam in Volume 2 as a mentor (”I had a partner... more of a mentor actually”), Monty himself called Blake the “apprentice” in an interview after the Black trailer, and much of her subdued behavior compared to her more affectionate self seen in Volumes 5 and 6 can be simply explained as Blake keeping a low profile to avoid Faunus discrimination and the attention of the White Fang. 

Even in Volume 3 Chapter 7- Adam’s last scene before Chapter 11 and the confirmation of his abuse- things are kept vague. Adam even sharply rebukes his Lieutenant when he offers to hunt Blake down following the Black Trailer, saying “Forget it.” Adam’s plan is to go to Mistral without a care for Blake, which goes against his obsessive behavior seen later in this very season. 

Much of the evidence given for Adam’s abuse- him gaslighting Blake in the Adam short, Blake talking about him in Volumes 5 and 6 to Sun and Yang, his dialogue during the Volume 6 battle- is all retroactive evidence, which does not solve the initial problem of the initial seasons poorly setting up Adam’s turn. Much of the evidence for and against the twist is shady at best, and reaching at worst due to how vague the wording is around Adam. Blake only ever speaks of him as a partner or mentor, never belying a romantic connection outside of the volume 2 premiere with the drawing of him in her notebook. Certainly with the benefit of hindsight some may find evidence in Volumes 1 through 3, primarily that Blake is simply an unreliable narrator, but I still feel like the lack of clean foreshadowing to such a large part of Adam’s character it weakens the twist, and some of Adam’s fans remain bitter that his character underwent a drastic 180 out of relatively nowhere.

3) Simple preference

Being blunt, a lot of Adam’s fans just prefer the Adam shown in the early seasons to the one the show closed out on. This idea is often mocked by some that his fans just wanted to see a Vergil knockoff, but for some of Adam’s fans it just came down to wanting to see cool fights. After all, RWBY was built on the initial idea of well-designed characters having well-choreographed fights. The show advertised itself initially as “From the maker of Dead Fantasy and Haloid,” which to surmise, weren’t shows that lured people in for their narrative quality. Monty’s loyalist fans who followed from his freelance work and from Red Vs Blue followed for cool fights, and Adam’s fighting style and design made him an instant fan favorite. It has only been from Volume 3 onwards that the show has advertised itself more as a drama than an animation showcase, and as such some of Adam’s fans don’t care less for his character turn other than that it makes him whiny and edgy and they’d like to see him swing his sword a bit more.

While the idea of preferring Adam as a revolutionary over his Yandere self seen from V3 is also a mocked concept as it tends to be used by people less well-versed in expressing critique of Adam’s character and makes for a popular strawman tactic, a morally gray villain may have worked well for RWBY. Especially as Adam and Cinder both show in different ways that the series should stay away from villains with no redeeming qualities. 

Though I suppose at least unlike Cinder, Adam actually has a backstory, so I should count my blessings. 

To surmise, for some of Adam’s fans it was a purely physical love affair

4) Adam’s death and its connection to Bumblebee

Blake and Yang’s final confrontation with Adam in Volume 6 marks a significant step in their relationship, which means if you like Bumblebee then the emotional climax of the volume hits home for you. If you shipped literally anything else then at least the choreography was good, but if you didn’t ship Bumblebee and never liked the Adam abuser turn... hoo boy. 

Being blunt, a fair few Bumblebee shippers don’t mind the abuser twist since in the long run, it helped their ship and gave Blake and Yang plenty of angst to work through both alone and as a pair. I’ve said before that Blake’s recovery arc made for some good content in Volumes 4 and 5 barring the Sun slaps, and Yang’s PTSD arc, while bare-bones in Volume 4, was some of the more consistently good material that year when shown. And as such, Adam being made a one-note psycho who wanted to kill Blake suited them well, as it gave a clear villain for Blake and Yang to overcome while developing past their respective traumas. The problem of course being, Adam’s fans not appreciating this turn and definitely not appreciating the names they were called when they expressed this dissatisfaction.

This led to a litany of hot takes- “Adam’s fans only cared for the show and the character as an outlet for a male power fantasy,” “Adam’s fans were entirely made of sexists who just hated women,” “Adam stans are abuse apologists.” (Like 40% of the Adam fans I know are actual abuse victims so fuck yourself on the front of trying to use their trauma as a low blow) And to be fair, Adam’s fans responded with their own disappointing share of bad takes involving the dreaded words “wasted potential,” alongside murder and nerfing, but I go over those later. 

(also you know genuine homophobics but trying to avoid braindead reasoning here for my own sake)

Getting back on topic, I quite obviously detest this lumping in of all criticisms. For one it means that simply shipping something that isn’t Bumblebee and disliking the fight can get one labelled with accusations of homophobia. A disgusting tactic on its own, to say nothing of how some people use it just to deflect criticism. Liked Adam? Then you’re an abuse apologist now. It’s interesting to compare the response to Adam last year and this year, where suddenly the fandom went from dismissing Adam after Haven to suddenly being very insistent that his death was well done and that only bigots opposed it; a naturally insulting statement to any members of the LGBT community or racial minorities who took umbrage with the handling of the Faunus.

And speaking of, my largest gripe with Adam’s turn personally is how it overshadows his previous commitment to the Faunus. Even though Adam’s short shows him fighting for the Faunus, to the point where Lionized and From Shadows are both expressly about how the Faunus are subject to inhumane treatments, it all gets tossed aside for the sake of Adam’s obsession with Blake and I’ve always found the almost-retcon of “Adam only truly cared for his own equality” a bit.. hard to get a read on? Since the original reason for his fall was because of his rabid devotion to his cause/getting vengeance on humans. Adam in-setting had been prepped as a Malcolm X style analogue before most of these traits were pushed over to Sienna. I feel like there is a lot that could be said about how RWBY handles its racism narrative, especially when it pertains to Adam given his own placement in the narrative, but that such a thinkpiece would likely be hit with accusations of homophobia or abuse apologism likely curtails that idea in anyone’s head. Some voices in the fandom have even come forward and expressed their dissatisfaction at how the arc depicting racism got curtailed for a romance. Adam rather sadly could have been part of a cornerstone on a narrative about the natural consequences of violent extremism, but instead the writers went with a far shallower option in my opinion.  

Also being blunt the whole “Adam was just a secondary character for Blake and Yang’s arcs” feels a bit like revisionism of weak writing. 

5) Damaged goods

Adam lost a lot of fans thanks to Volume 5. You can argue about this all you want but the facts don’t change that the volume was overall one that shot his character in the leg. Alongside having him go completely bananas out of nowhere with the “THE BELLADONNA NAME HAS BROUGHT ME NOTHING BUT GRIEF” scene, Adam’s humiliating head smack from Blake that knocked him out for an entire episode and his Naruto run escape from the Battle. Put bluntly, people didn’t give a shit, especially after CRWBY’s own attitude was to mock Adam, further undermining any threat factor Adam was meant to have.

It’s quite obvious in hindsight that Adam’s short was made quickly, and was almost certainly damage control made to counter the backlash from the Battle of Haven episodes. Sienna’s inclusion has eve been admitted by Miles on RWBY Rewind to be done as pure fanservice for the fans who wanted more from her design, and it shows with how Sienna dominates the back half of the short. But the short’s nature as damage control, while ultimately well received, still marked it as a fix job for Haven. Even last year fans wondered what was the point of trying to hype Adam back up as a threatening villain given he would almost certainly lose any future battles he fought in. 

Ultimately, a lot of people just didn’t care about Adam. The damage had been done by Haven, and even a lot of his own fans wrote off him being allowed to be even half as competent as his Volume 3 self again. With even his own fans having written off his chances of being a fearsome combatant again and the crew openly reviling Adam, not to mention his own voice actor despising him, a mood of “why should we care if the crew don’t?” began to settle in for Adam’s fans. Some even looked forward to his death since it would mean at least in death, Adam was free of being written as a psycho Yandere. For some of Adam’s fans, his writing had been so schizophrenic that death seemed like the only way forward instead of dragging it out.     

6) “Wasted potential”

This is a point I don’t entirely agree with myself, but as this is an essay about why Adam has been controversial after Volume 6 I only feel it fair to include it, even if solely for the purposes of rebuttal. Wasted potential has become a set of dirty words to portions of the fandom thanks to the many, many, many arguments about Adam post-season. 

A rather large complaint is that Adam “jobbed” for Blake and Yang, despite neither of them really having gained much experience onscreen since Beacon. I disagree with this notion since it does take some details out of consideration for this angle- B&Y were both tired from earlier fighting in the day, Blake was shocked to see Adam out of nowhere and that’s why he overwhelmed her, Adam still actually defeats Blake at Argus and it largely comes down to Yang to win the fight, and V5 had actually set up her changing her fighting style to better combat Adam’s own style. 

One idea of potential for Adam that I will admit to liking is the idea of Adam as an ideological villain to Blake. Adam and Blake could have both represented the differing sides of the Faunus debate and how to achieve results, perhaps even going for a scenario where neither side was truly correct or wrong. Such a plot would have even had the benefit of tying the Faunus narrative into the wider stakes of the show while also humanizing it on a base level through their struggle. But at this point, this is becoming me wishing the show was something else. I’m sure a great fanfic could bloom from this idea in the future and I hope I get to see it one day. 

There’s also the entire idea that Blake and Yang “murdered” (it was self-defense) Adam since apparently this is a big deal. I dunno fam, you just ignoring all those White Fang goons RWBY killed in V2 by leaving them in the tunnels? The ones they smacked around during V3? All those people Yang probably killed in the Yellow trailer? Now seems like a bit of an odd time to draw a line in the sand about the RWBY girls killing someone. 

7) Conclusion

To conclude, there’s a lot of controversy surrounding Adam, and a lot that will surround his character for years. I feel like arguments around him will still be going by the end of the hiatus, if not for years to come. Adam has attracted a fandom from varying walks of life, but one thing I’ve noticed with some regularity is how many of of them themselves have histories with abuse. What unites a lot of them in their reasons for liking the character is the tragedy of how Adam is a person who has been persecuted then gained the power to bite back, but in his blind rage winds up lashing out at someone he is supposed to love. With permission, they let me share their accounts so I could put them here:

Be it purely visual/choreography appreciation, falling for fan theories and headcanons, his allusions to the Beast, the mystery of his mask and later branding, his potential as an ideological rival for Blake or for personal reasons, Adam gained a fan following from all walks of life over the past six years, who may not have learned everything they wanted to about him but who wanted to learn more regardless. Even if they only liked him just to watch him fight, Adam has a small if passionate fanbase, and I hope I’ve explained some of their grievances with the show as a whole now, particularly following Volume 6. Adam might have been a scumbag, but ironically his fandom has actually been quite pleasant to talk to, so I hope I’ve presented their more accurate or personal issues in a fair light. 

Thank you for reading. Please consider sharing the post around if you enjoyed it or think someone you know would. 

[handsupinthebalorclub]

Anagapesis (chapter 2)

pairing: the shield x reader

word count: 3,640

summary: Anagapesis (n.) no longer feeling any affection for something or someone you once loved. After three years, you’re officially the manager of the Shield once again. But, things aren’t quite the same as they used to be.

warnings: cursing, mentions of betrayal and trust issues

a/n: this chapter sucks so I firmly apologize and I’ll do my best to make chapter three better 

chapter one / chapter two / chapter three / chapter four

Your (eye color) eyes focused on the laptop screen in front of you, which displayed a clip from the August 14th, 2017 episode of Raw. For the past hour, you had been trying to piece together what had happened in your absence. Prior to your involvement in the Shield reunion, you had heard a lot about the small interactions the three men had before Dean and Seth’s tag team reign. But, you had never brought yourself to see it with your own eyes. Well, until now.

Dean stood in the center of the ring with Seth. Seth stood confidently, a microphone in his hand as he addressed the elder man.

“When I take the fight to the Miz, and I will, brother. Will you be standing in my way? Or will you be standing by my side? That’s all I want to know.”  Dean took a second to survey the crowd, who had launched into a chorus of ‘Yes’ chants,  with a look of disbelief. His grip tightened on the steel chair in his hand before he had turned back to Seth.

“I’m-I’m sorry. Did you just say brother?” Dean scoffed.

Seth automatically recoiled when he heard this.

“C’mon you know I didn’t mean it like that-”

“Brother? I ain’t your brother.” Dean took a step back, anger now evident. “My brothers were in the Shield.”

Seth opened his mouth to retaliate, but it seemed as if he was at a loss for words. Once Dean saw he wasn’t going to say anything, he continued.

“My brothers fought with me in the trenches. I trusted my brothers!”

“How many times-” Seth held up a hand to stop Dean, but he just kept going.

“My brothers stood for something!” Dean took a step closer to Seth, maintaining strong eye contact. “You? I don’t know you.”

The expression of Seth’s face switched. You wanted to say that the look was regret, but you weren’t quite sure.

“I mean, I knew a guy who looked like you once. He was a liar. A cheater, the kind of guy to stab his brothers and sister in the back. That guy took a chair,” Dean held up the metal chair that was in his grasp. “Just like this one and stabbed it right through my back, and right through my heart.” “And that was over three years ago! And you know what? I’m sorry!” Seth yelled before he took a step back and tried to calm himself down.

Dean only smiled, happy with the reaction he had earned from The Architect.

You had thought about pausing the video in this moment, your mind racing at the words Seth had just said. But, you powered through and decided to continue watching. Back on the screen, Seth raised a finger and prodded the air between him and Dean.

“And I never said that before, so I’ll say it again. I’m sorry, alright?” He stared down Dean as the WWE Universe cheered. “If you think I forgot about that, I live with that every single day of my life! I remember that, but do you know what else I remember? I remember you and I tearing each other apart inside of Hell in a Cell!”

“I remember you,” he pointed to Dean before continuing. “Cashing in your Money In the Bank contract and beating me for the WWE World Heavyweight Championship. But all that, all that, everything we’re talking about- that’s in the past. This is the then and now. I’ve moved on! What is it going to take for you to move on man?”

The two men looked at each other, Seth obviously waiting for an answer. Dean scratched the back of his neck and began to pace around the ring. He rested his hands onto the crimson robes to collect himself, then walked back over to Seth.

“Y’know, I see your lips moving. But I don’t hear nothing.” Seth looked around the ring, done with his ex-brother’s claims.

“Alright, alright.” He looked at the chair in Dean’s hands before hitting it with the back of his hand. “You got that...you got that little chair right there in your hand.” Seth re-positioned himself so his back was facing towards Dean. “Do it. No, do it! Hit me! If that’s what’s going to make you feel better, hit me!” He spread his arms out wide and gave Dean the opportunity to strike, like Seth had done to Dean all of those years ago.

A shiver rushed down your spine as you looked at the laptop, very curious what Dean would do. You honestly expected him to take the chair shot, all of the pent up anger from the betrayal rising to the surface. Dean pocketed his microphone and took a step back, raising the chair with one hand. Seth began to get restless.

“Do it right now! Hit me, damn it!” Seth threw his microphone onto the mat below and went into a T pose once again.

This is when everything changed. To your surprise, Dean threw the metal chair out of the ring, a smile on his face as he did so. You sat there, dumbfounded as Seth looked towards Dean in surprise. You were about to watch more, but the sound of the hotel door being pushed open made you pause the video and take out your headphones. When you looked towards the door, there Roman stood with his hair in a bun and his clothes practically drenched in sweat.

You didn’t know what the three men did travel wise before you were thrown back into the group, but you decided to revert them back to the format that was set up before the incident. It was a rotating system, where each person would be paired with someone they would share a hotel room with for that week, despite wherever the brand had traveled to. Thankfully, Roman offered to be paired with you first for obvious reasons, which left the other two men to share a room.

Once he had entered the room, Roman didn’t speak until he had made his way over to the bed he had claimed earlier on in the morning and sat down on the edge of it.

“Whatcha up to, babygirl?” He asked.

“Nothing, just worked on the schedules for a little bit. How was the gym?” You lied, not wanting to admit to Roman that you had spent your time watching old pre-reunion videos.

“Good. I have a feeling I’ll be super sore later though.” Roman replied. Before he had left, he had asked if you wanted to join him in a workout, but you politely turned down the offer. You were never really the gym type, despite the profession and people you surround yourself with. Sure, sometimes you had gone on early morning jogs with Seth in the past or occasionally accompanied the members of the New Day when they worked out, but you yourself had never been an insanely active person.

Roman got up from his seat and traveled over to the dresser. He pulled out a new outfit then turned back to you.

“Do you need the bathroom before I take a shower?”

“Nah, go ahead.” You shook your head while replying and watched as he vanished into the bathroom. Once he was out of sight, you brought yourself to spin the chair back so it was facing the desk and open your laptop once again. Instead of continuing the video, you reopened the spreadsheet that withheld the Shield schedules that had been abandoned when you started your research.

* * *

“Ro!” You grunted as you watched Roman walk in front of the television. He casted you a look of confusion and looked towards what was on the tv.

“Since when have you cared about Breezedango or The Ascension? Why are you even watching Smackdown?” He teased once he noticed what was being displayed.

“Tyler and Fandango are actually really cool once you get to know them.” You shrugged before a chuckle escaped your lips from a comment Tyler Breeze had made about The Ascension's many fashion violations. “Plus, the New Day guys put in our group text that I should watch their match. Something about unicorns? I don’t know. Whatever supports them, I guess.”

“You guys have a group chat?”

“It’s mostly reserved for memes, but we talk normally in it occasionally.”

Roman looked at you strangely before picking up his wallet from the desk. Your eyes darted towards the television to catch Viktor knee strike Fandango into the ropes. Once Fandango managed to get the upper hand once more, you brought yourself to look at Roman again.

“Are you about to head out?”

“Yeah. Are you sure you don’t want to come?” The house show wasn’t until the next day, which gave you guys the night off. Roman, Dean, and Seth had planned on the car ride to Arizona that they were going to spend their night bar hopping. Roman offered for you to come, and you considered it up until the situation that had occurred with Dean.

“I’m sure. Have fun though, alright? Don’t get too drunk.”

Roman nodded then checked his phone, which happened to just buzz at that moment.

“Alright, I’m leaving.” He took a step forward before gazing at the television, then over to you. “Can I walk across here without being killed?”

“Go ahead,” You rolled your eyes at his comment. “Bye.”

“Catch ya later.”

When Roman exited the hotel room, you put your focus back onto the match.

After approximately two matches later, the announcers handed the show off to Renee Young, who had a scheduled interview with none other than your previous client, Dolph Ziggler. You debated on muting the television for this segment and finding something else to do until the New Day match, but your curiosity got the best of you.

“Dolph,” Renee addressed the blonde man next to her. “Last night your manager, y/n l/n, made it clear that she was back with the Shield. Does this mean that you’ll be going out to fight Baron Corbin alone tonight?”

“Sadly, yes. We stayed up late the other night talking about it, actually. She didn’t want to go at first, thought it wouldn’t be safe for a number of reasons.”

You looked at the television with a look a disgust at the lies Dolph was spewing.

“And those were…?” Renee wondered.

“Ambrose is a handful and being his manager instantly translates to being his handler. Reigns has a giant target on his back constantly, which puts her in danger. And Rollins...do I even have to explain? C’mon, how can you be the Hounds of Justice when you’re the ones spreading the injustice?” There was a pause before he smiled towards the camera and continued.

“Anyway, she was apprehensive. But, I talked her into switching. Not as a client, but as a friend. It’s what’s probably best for her career. I’ll miss her just as much as she misses me.”

You picked up the remote and muted the television. 

“Fuck you, Dolph.”

* * *

You smiled lightly as The New Day busted out into their iconic celebratory dances. They had just won their match against the Usos and you were quite impressed with their performance. Not because of the unicorn entrance that Xavier had previously mentioned in the group chat, but rather their comradery. You had always admired how in sync they were both in and out of the ring, but you thought they took that to new heights that night. Especially with how smoothly they had pulled off the Double Midnight Hour. Overall, you were really proud of them not just as their past manager, but also as a friend.

This was around the time that you remembered that there was a drink vending machine down the hall and being quite thirsty, you decided to check it out. You turned off the television and stood up, making sure you had everything before you exited the room. You traveled down the hallway and stopped in front of the black container that held a variety of different drinks.

After retrieving your drink of choice, you returned to your hotel room. You put your hand into your pocket to retrieve the keycard, only to figure out that you had left it on the night table.

“Fuck.” You grumbled to yourself. The thought of calling Roman and asking him to drive back to let you in popped in your head but you didn't want to bother him. From prior experience, the typical Shield bar hop could last from anywhere from four to six hours and they had only been gone for about an hour and a half at this point.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for another idea to pop into your mind. You grabbed your phone and went through your contacts until a familiar name popped up onto the screen. You hit the call button and patiently waited for Finn to pick up.

“Hey, y/n.” He spoke after the phone rang twice.

“Hey, Finn. Are you up to anything important right now?” You leaned against the hallway wall.

“No, not really. Why? What’s up?”

“Long story short, I locked myself out of the hotel room and Roman’s out right now. Do you mind me hanging out with you until he comes back?”

You heard Finn softly laugh at your mistake, which made you pout.

“Or you could just sit there and laugh. I could always just sit in the lobby.”

“I’m sorry, y/n. It’s just that’s such a rookie mistake. You’ve been traveling for how many years now?”

“Alright, I see your point.” You allowed a small laugh to escape your lips.

“But to answer your question, sure. I’m in room C21.”

“Thanks, Finn. See you soon.”

“Bye.”

With that, you hung up the phone and placed it into your pocket. It wouldn’t take long to find his room, since you were already on the C floor.

After going to the complete other end of the hallway, where C21 was located, you raised your fist and knocked lightly on the door. There was some shuffling sounds from behind the door before it opened to reveal Finn.

“Hey, come on in.” He took a step back to allow you into the hotel room. You gladly entered, expecting his room to be a carbon copy of your own. But, you were fairly surprised to see that instead of occupying two beds like your room did, his own occupied one.

You moved further into the room and took a seat onto the bed, Finn following in succession after he had shut the door.

“So, how has everything been going?”

The way your face instinctively dropped must have said it all, because Finn looked at you with sad eyes.

“That bad, huh?”

You took a deep breath and then went into explaining everything. You mentioned all of the little things that had happened since your last conversation with Finn in the gorilla. Dean’s small comments, Seth hugging you after the match, your confrontation with Dean in the hall, how tense the car ride to Arizona was, and last but not least: Dolph’s down-right lies to the WWE Universe.

“It’s like when it rains, it pours. I swear, the only good things that have come out of this so far is being an official manager again, still being close with Roman, and being on the same brand with you.” You sighed.

“Well, sounds like you could use a distraction from all of this.” Finn stood up and made his way over to the desk. He grabbed the remote before turning back to you, a smile on his face. “How about some Netflix and chill?”

You know Finn didn’t mean it a lewd way, but you couldn’t help but bust out into laughter at his words.

“Finn….sweetie…that’s not what that means!”

Finn scratched the back of his neck with a flustered look on his face. His reaction only made you laugh harder.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” In the matter of seconds, a teasing look came across his face. “Or did I?”

You scrunched up your nose then raised your hands, signaling that you wanted him to throw you the remote.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just find a movie or something.”

* * *

Slowly, you opened your eyes and tried to adjust to the lighting of the room. It took you a few seconds to fully wake up and process why you weren’t in your hotel room, but eventually you realized that you had fell asleep at Finn’s. 

“Good morning.”

You looked towards Finn, who was sitting in an armchair on the other side of the room. He had a cup of coffee in his hand and had already changed into casual clothes.

“Morning.” You sat up and grabbed your phone off the night side table. You tried to turn it on, but realized it was dead. “What time is it?” You asked Finn.

He looked at the watch on his wrist before answering.

“Ten twenty.”

You stretched and swung your legs over the side of the bed.

“Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?”

Ten was considered quite late for WWE talent. Most did their workouts in the morning or had other things to attend to. When you acted as the manager of both the Shield and the New Day, you were up by seven most mornings to make sure everything was in line or to answer emails. Being Dolph’s valet involved less productive mornings, but you had already developed the habit of being up early.

“I thought that you could use the extra sleep.” Finn quickly decided to further explain himself with how bad the first sentence sounded. “I mean, since you’ve been under a lot of stress.”

“Ah, okay. Thanks, then. Having a little extra shut eye was kind of nice. But, I should probably go back to my own room now.” You collected all of your items and stood up. You moved across the room and gave Finn a quick hug. “Thank you for letting me stay here!”

“No problem, see you tonight at the house show?”

“I’ll make a time slot for my favorite Irishman.”

“Sheamus wouldn’t be happy if he heard that.” Finn smirked, knowing quite well that your friendship with the previously mentioned wrestler was practically nonexistent.

“Bye, Finn.” You laughed before ducking out of the room and entering the hallway.

* * *

You blinked in confusion when Seth had opened the door to your hotel and not Roman. Seth seemed to be equally confused, but stepped backwards to allow you in nonetheless. Your perplexity only grew when you realized he and Dean were the only two in the room.

“Where have you been?” Dean asked, standing up from his seated position in the office chair.

“I locked myself out of the hotel room last night so I went to Finn’s until Roman got back but I fell asleep.” You answered, not liking the thick tension that coated the room.

Seth was standing behind you with his arms crossed and a small smile on his lips.

“Finn? As in Finn Balor? Since when are you close to him?”

Like most things Seth said, you decided to ignore his comment and put your focus on Dean.

“Where’s Roman?”

“Out looking for you. He came back last night and got worried because you weren’t here. Tried calling, texting-the whole shebang. Eventually he decided to just go out and find you. He thought that someone like the Wyatt’s took you.” He responded coldly.

Your eyes darted to the floor as your thoughts jumbled. It took you a second to recompose yourself, the presence of both Seth and Dean making you revert back to your previous expression.

“My phone died,” You said. “I didn’t mean to worry him.”

“Yeah, well. You did. I guess I’ll go find him now and tell him you’re alright.” Dean pushed past you and left the hotel room. You let out a deep sigh and ran a hand through your hair.

“Dean was worried more than he lets on.”

You visibly jumped at the sound of Seth’s voice. You had honestly forgot that he was still in the room. You turned around to face him with a ‘yeah right’ look on your face.  

“What? It’s true,” Seth’s half-smile transformed into a look of innocence. “he wanted to go out there and bash some skulls in to find you. But, Roman decided it would be the best for him to stay here so we could avoid any unneeded brawls.”

You tried to reflect upon his words, but another thought popped into your head before you could fully process them.

This was your first time completely alone with Seth since that night.

You instinctively took a step away from the male and wrapped your arms around yourself. Your breathing started to become shallower, but you tried your best to hide it. You debated on kicking him out of the room, but a questioned replayed in the back of your brain.

“And you, Rollins? Why did you wait around for me?”

Seth shrugged, taken back from the question.

“Someone needed to keep Dean in line and make sure he didn’t kill anyone.” He paused for a split second. “Plus, I care about you.”

Your breath caught in your lungs and you quickly gestured towards the door.

“Well, as you can see...I’m alive and well. So you can leave now. This probably interfered with your morning workout and we don’t want you pulling anything tonight at the house show.”  

Seth casted you a weird look but made his way to the exit.

You had heard enough lies within the last twenty-four hours.

tag list: 

@scuzmunkie / @alyj12 / @letshaveadepressingtime / @theroyalbrownbarbie / @shieldgallover / @nikora3010 / @zombiewerewolfqueen / @insaneship / @sausagefest1996 

if you would like to be added or removed to the taglist, please send me a message! 

[jinjikook]

you’ve stolen my right to relief (m)

🎃 word count: 3k

🎃 genre: smut ; thieves au

🎃 pairing: reader/jinjin

🎃 warning(s)/kink(s): edging, spanking, a little bit of dirty talk + some angry/hateful feelings

🎃 summary: a bet between you and your colleague leaves you faced down in a crap motel and a few fingers away from the edge of sanity.

🎃 requested by: anon - “edging / spanking with jinjin from astro for kinktober?”

🎃 music: ties - years & years + lose control - lay

🎃 masterlist + kinktober 2017

“I fucking hate you, what part of that don’t you get?” You spit, pushing the light haired boy away from you.

No matter how hard you tried, it seemed like your partner in crime didn’t quite understand how much you seriously despised him.

Keeping your volume down was crucial at the moment but Jinwoo seemed to have other plans as he continued to whisper in your ear, breathing his heavy breath over your neck and making you seethe with irritation.

“C’mon, if you can’t handle the heat: get the fuck out of the kitchen.” He drawled, eyes dragging down your body clad in tight, black clothes meant to conceal you in the dead of night but it only accentuated your curves further, to Jinwoo’s pleasure.

“It was one fucking time, I made it clear I wasn’t ever going to sleep with you again Jinwoo, so hop off my dick for once!” You turned to face Jinwoo, smirk still plastered across his clean cut face. Despite being the muscle in this operation, he was surprisingly compact and—as much as it pained you to admit—he had a pretty face that sold more scams than you’d initially assumed.

As you shuffled your hands in the far-too-fancy jewelry box you’d spotted upstairs earlier—in the middle of the “leak check-up” that’d been a part of the ruse this time around—Jinwoo chuckled louder than you liked at the sight of all the lavish rings and necklaces; too garish for every day wear but clearly something this woman kept for special nights.

You’d be able to flip it easily for a quick buck, easy money to toy with. A pawn shop or even just to a jeweler themselves, who’d take the gold bezels and smelt them down into custom pieces, completely unrecognizable to the police or the owners of the accessories.

“Could you shut your trap for more than two seconds? You have the worst ability to hold out, I swear.” You rolled your eyes and shoved the rest of the emeralds and rubies into the rucksack you’d sneaked onto your back, Jinwoo already brushing past you to head towards the nightstand where you assumed the husband slept next to.

He scavenged the drawers, pulling out some concealed cash and a few items that looked like they’d be worth something.

“Aha! Bingo,” Jinwoo ogled the piece of fine Italian craftsmanship dangling from his hand, the gold reflecting off moonlight like a lighthouse in the middle of a foggy night.

“For fuck’s sake, could you be any more obvious we’re casing a house?”

“You know, if you got that stick out of your ass for once, I could replace it with something more worthwhile,” He looked back and winked and you had half a mind to run out the front door and call the cops to arrest his ass. Unfortunately, he’d give you up in a heartbeat because your loyalties didn’t run that deep just yet.

It all started when you were down on your luck and your no good brother-in-law stole all the savings you had for a situation just like the one you were in at the time. He caused you to get evicted from your apartment and lose your scholarship for the school you worked so hard to get into.

Jinwoo was the one who helped you get back at him and you joined him in the robbery circuit, quickly adapting and learning to the lifestyle and even becoming his equal in the field. He was proud to call you his protégé but it didn’t stop him from always holding it over your head when it came to how much experience he had.

“You’re disgusting and I hope you trip and break your ankle on the way out of here.”

“It’s so cute how your threats are always so PG, you’d never really want anything to happen to me.” He grinned and blew you a kiss, to which you gagged in retaliation to. “Okay, what do we have left?” He turned to evaluate the room, checking for any missed items and while he busied himself with nooks and crannies, you slid open the closet door and pushed some clothes aside. To the untrained eye, it was a regular, normal closet filled with boring dress shirts and blouses, things a 40-year-old married couple would have hanging to be worn during their 9-5 day jobs.

But you knew better than to believe there was just what met the eye, shifting things around until a nearly hollow thump clacked against your knuckles through one the swipes of your hand. Moving a chiffon skirt and navy trench coat that was heavier than it looked, you were met with what your kind thought of as a gold mine.

“Hey Jin Jin! We got ourselves a safe!” You smiled menacingly and Jinwoo was at your side in an instant, rubbing his palms together like a predator ready to sink his teeth into his prey and have dinner.

“Let’s see, are you a mediocre lock or…” He trailed off, inspecting the hard box with gloved fingers, checking brand, label, age and condition.

“What’dya think, Jinwoo? Should we pick it, break it or take it back with us? We don’t have much time left.” You inquired, checking your phone to see that the Lee’s were due back from their son’s Open House Night in roughly twenty minutes, give or take some time depending on traffic and how much the mother gossips with the other PTA moms.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, humming as he weighed out his options.

“It’s a combination lock, what do you think they picked?”

“Their son’s birthday?” The first answer in your mind was a significant date like that, being an easy choice for a parent to put as a lock on their phone or in this case, a safe box. Jinwoo tried the numbers, easily nabbed from the calendar hanging next to the fridge downstairs.

“No luck, I’ll try the husband’s and wife’s.” As he fiddled some more with the numbers, you were struck with the small spark of knowledge you’d been told sometime during your start as a petty thief.

People were stupid, it was in their nature. Which is why they have trouble remembering combinations, numbers, dates and anything else of the like. Especially a couple as old as the Lee’s, they probably forgot things all the time if they didn’t write it down somewhere. It’s why they had a colorful calendar littered with notes and circled with dates, a small pad attached to the fridge with the grocery list and even a journal sat on the top of the wife’s nightstand; a dream journal of sorts.

You pushed Jinwoo aside, ignoring his noise of protest and you circled the safe and checked the back of it, just at the bottom. There, in sad silver Sharpie scrawl was a four-digit number: the code.

With a confident smile, you took Jinwoo’s place in front of the box and rolled the little black and white tiles until they all matched the numbers you just saw, clicking with the confirmation that you had unlatched the lock. Jinwoo grimaced at your expression and ability, simply tugging open the top. Digging in quickly, you were met with money in an envelope—emergency money you guessed—and a jar of dozens of coins labeled “Minhyuk’s MIT Funds”. You snickered at their preparation for something that they could never guarantee would happen.

Jinwoo snorted his own laugh and stuffed the jar and the few other items that looked like they were worth something before shutting the safe and bringing everything back to its original place.

“Jackpot.” You whispered and Jinwoo bumped your fist as you made your way quietly down the stairs, slinking around like a cat in the night. The two of you were the snakes in the grass, ready to strike but more willing to lay low and do your own business, afar from prying eyes.

It was in-and-out, an everyday sort of robbery. You were seated in the passenger seat of Jinwoo’s pick-up truck, counting the money that had been in the envelope and smelling the scent of crisp, unused bills.

Jinwoo looked over and whooped, feeling the high of a successful casing. Out of sheer impulse, he reached over the median and gripped your chin hard, pulling you towards him to press a hard kiss to your lips. It only partly caught you off guard, something that Jinwoo has done in the past but it was still not something he did often enough to become habit.

A few stops along the way—hitting a pawn shop, some old friends who could make use of the oddities you’d stolen and a liquor store later, you were back and holed up in another three star motel for the night.

Jinwoo took a swig of his bottle, cheap beer since you didn’t like wasting money on alcohol. You’d rather spend it on more worthwhile things like food or amenities.

“So, did you want to take a little twist in testing your theory from earlier?” Jinwoo spoke up from where he was sitting on a dining chair, legs up on the table even after you scolded him to get them off for the umpteenth time.

“Here we go with the drunken ramblings again…” You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose before obliging the man and turning his way on the mattress you were comfortably seated on.

“I’m not drunk, Y/N, hear me out this time.” With a motion of your hand, Jinwoo continued. “You said I couldn’t last. But, what makes you think you can?” The quirk in his brow told you this was no longer about thievery, another sin coming in tow instead.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the growing ache in between your legs. It had been a while since you last got laid, if you had to admit it.

“I was talking about your inability to shut up for more than two seconds at a time, not whatever dirty fantasy you’re conjuring up in that sick, twisted mind of yours.”

“Well, then maybe you’ll like this bet after all,” Despite acting indifferent, you were slightly intrigued, using the excuse that you were bored beyond belief now that the thrill of thievery was long gone and replaced with dull, stagnant cable television and cheap take out. “How’s this: if you can last a whole ten minutes without coming, I’ll spend the entire next stake out completely silent, unless I absolutely have to talk.”

“Wait, wait hold up, you’re a scammer for a reason. You always find a loophole and I’m not falling for one of your tricks; contrary to popular belief, I am smarter than the average bear. Now, out with it, what’s the catch?”

Jinwoo put his hands up defensively, finally sliding his feet off the table to sit up straight.

“No tricks, catch or gimmicks.” He crossed his heart and held up his right hand. “I swear, I’m just positive you won’t make it so I don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Watch it, Park. That cockiness is gonna get you into more trouble than it already has,” You scrunched your nose and sat at the edge of the bed. “You’re on.” Shaking hands, Jinwoo got up to seat himself next to you on the bed, going over the “ground rules” per your request.

The bet was simple: Jinwoo would have you over his lap, only using his fingers in you and you’d set a timer on your phone. If you lasted the full ten minutes without having an orgasm, it’s your win and Jinwoo had to shut his trap and eat his words.

If you lost? Jinwoo asked simply to fuck your throat until he came all over your pretty face. His words, not yours.

For the sake of time and convenience, you changed into one of the pleated skirts you liked to use when you needed to distract someone; whether it was a victim or an officer, it always worked wonders. Of course, sans underwear since that’d be a just another unnecessary hurdle to get over. Jinwoo was more than pleased with this, leaning back on the bed and waiting patiently. His smug smirk was still fixed in place and it only made you grit your teeth harder, wanting to show him up once and for all.

You tried your best to keep things from getting awkward by just sliding over his lap, reaching for your phone and getting to the timer application. Jinwoo’s hands were warm as they held you in place and kept you from slipping off. In a way, it grounded you and you weren’t sure if you appreciated it or not just yet.

“Okay, timer’s on. Get on with it, I guess.”

Jinwoo chuckled at your monotone voice and wasted no time in bringing a hand down to caress your bare cheeks, feeling the firm flesh under his fingertips.

“Oh come on, doll. Lighten up! We both know this is gonna be just as good for you as it will be for me.” And with that, Jinwoo began to circle your damp entrance, feeling his way around the folds and teasing you for a second.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “If this is all you’re gonna do, these next ten minutes are gonna be a breeze.” His resolve tightened as he quickly inserted a finger without warning, rubbing at your walls while using an adjacent digit to press against your clit, already upping the ante.

It was a little bit of effort but you made sure to keep your breathing even, appearing unaffected to the other as he followed up with another finger, the stretch feeling more prominent around him. You could feel the beginnings of a bulge against your stomach, a growing hardness at your abdomen as Jinwoo pumped his fingers in and out of you languidly, like he had all day. It was wet and loud and he pulled your skirt up to get a good view of your ass as his fingers disappeared underneath you over and over again.

Around the five minute mark, Jinwoo had had enough of your lack of noise—obviously trying to keep still despite already being three fingers in and dripping wet.

To remedy the issue, he rose the hand that had been steadying you and brought it down hard against your ass cheek, the muscle jiggling at the motion. You yelped, not expecting the harsh treatment and that was the first of many as Jinwoo broke the metaphorical dam. He released relentless abuse on your rear, spanking you left and right, over and over again as his other hand refused to slow down, the wet squelch roaring in your ears.

You were panting like a dog, face down and whenever your eyes did open, all you caught sight of was the wrecked old fuzzy carpet of the motel room, covered in peculiar stains that were beyond questionable.

Losing all track of time, you whimpered a particularly desperate whine of Jinwoo’s name that had his fingers stuttering, just for a millisecond but enough of a hiccup that it made you realize just how close you were. Pushing away from his fingers, Jinwoo actually relented and slowed his ministrations down, just at the edge of your high and it was a bittersweet feeling. You were so close to coming and while the relief would’ve been great to feel but a harsh blow to your ego, not coming felt like it was the worst choice amongst the two.

It only lasted for a moment—a heartbeat—and Jinwoo’s fingers were back to pistoning into you again. A quick peek at the timer had him seeing that only about 3 or so minutes remained, and while he would enjoy the sweet taste of victory, watching you writhe in his lap was doing wonders to his filthy mind.

So he toyed with you some more, fingers picking up speed as he landed blow after blow and bringing you just up against the precipice again, your mind too far gone to even care at this point, and swiftly yanking you back and dousing you in ice cold water as he ripped away your orgasm once more.

It stung, both mentally and physically. You were sobbing at this point, begging for anything—nothing in specific, you were just a blubbering mess and Jinwoo was relishing every second of it.

“You want it? You wanna come, pretty baby?” Jinwoo’s gruff voice growled, a promise laced in his tone. You nodded vehemently, completely throwing the bet to the wind as you tried to grind back against the friction to your core.

Jinwoo had similar thoughts as yours, wanting nothing more than to see you come undone and he thrusted his fingers into you a few more times before you clenched around him, coming harder than you ever have in your entire life. It took some time for you to come down, Jinwoo patting you reassuringly and easing you up back onto the bed once you weren’t shaking anymore.

“Time?” You panted, barely understandable. Jinwoo reached for the phone and the smirk on his face told you everything, letting your head fall back onto the bed now that you were sure he’d won the damn bet.

“11 minutes and 14 seconds.”

You shot back up, a little disoriented but with determination you snatched the phone out of Jinwoo’s hand and read the numbers hastily, true to his word.

“Why are you so smug then?” With wide, dewy eyes, you looked up at the sandy haired boy. He shrugged his shoulders and smoothed his shirt down.

“Told you it’d be as good for you as it was for me.” A quick look down had you realizing that Jinwoo had come in his pants, probably around the same time as you had. Your laugh was airy, and Jinwoo chuckled along with you before suggesting a shower.

While lathering up, you turned to face Jinwoo, the spray hitting your back with medium velocity due to the motel’s shitty water pressure.

“Guess you’re gonna have to stay quiet the next heist.”

Jinwoo’s hands found purchase on your hips and tugged you closer, eyebrow raised in a silent challenge.

“Double or nothing?”

[promisedangel]

PredatorShift- Chapter 14

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A reminder that this is the final chapter of 2017, this story will resume in 2018. However, as I said here, I will still be writing in December. Hope you all find some enjoyment in the mini-fic that is to come!

Chapter 14- Puzzle

Serol ran off in a flash at first, ahead of Frisk and Asriel. He soon realized his mistake and waited for the two in embarrassment. He began to walk with Asriel and Frisk, still leading the way despite there only being one path to take. Frisk began to look around curiously, and they saw something strange attached to a metal pillar. They squinted their eyes to get a better loot. It was a broken camera. Frisk opened their eyes normally and spoke up with a raised brow, “Is that… a camera?” Serol perked up before he turned his head towards the camera. His expression dipped slightly, “Oh…” He gave a nervous laugh, “That iss... one of Dr. Gasster’ss camerass. I… I broke it ssome time ago while working on the puzzle…” He gulped and spoke nervously, “Pleasse don’t tell him I broke it. I’d like to ssstil be able to ssubmit thiss dessign to him, after all...” Asriel mirrored the worried laughter, “W-We won’t.” Serol smiled almost immediately, “Thankss.”

Serol led Asriel and Frisk further than they walked. They seemed to exit the tighter corridor of metal plating to a more open area. There was only one path, all else was a large pit with magma far below. The path seemed to divide into a set of twenty-five five-by-five feet squares with dormant lights on them.  Beyond the twenty-five squares seemed to be space for two more rows of five, much farther than any of them could ever hope to jump. But, before all of the puzzle, along the edges of the first panels, was a small trench-like hole. None of them could see what lay inside. Frisk raised a brow after they had fully examined the puzzle, “What… kind of puzzle is this?” Serol approached the puzzle with a giddy smile on his face. He turned toward Asriel and Frisk, “Allow me to exssplain!” He motioned to the puzzle, “Oncce you sstep on any of the platformss, the puzzle will begin! You will have a limited time to sstep on all of the panelss before all panelss of the puzzle open and drop you!” Asriel’s eyes widen as he nearly covers his mouth, “This puzzle drops you?!” He turned his gaze to the side and below. He shook as he spoke, “I-into the lava?!” Frisk reeled slightly at the thought. Serol crooked his head in confusion for a moment. He gave a strange expression in realization before he snickered, “It will not drop you into the magma below! There iss a compartment below. Thiss puzzle iss meant to trap and sslow down humanss, not kill them.” Serol beckoned the children to the side of the path, “Come and ssee!” Asriel and Frisk approached cautiously. They turned their heads towards the side of the puzzle to see large mechanisms and a seemingly enclosed area within the mechanics. Below the puzzle was a layer of rock, about as deep as the puzzle itself. It was supported. It was safe. Asriel gave a deep sigh of relief as he saw this, “Phew…It just looks really scary from above…” Serol frowned, “Why would I assk ssomone to tesst ssomthing fatal?” Asriel gave an unsure look. He fiddled with his hands as he stepped away from the edge, “Umm… I dunno…”

Serol snickered once more for a moment. He then calmed and smiled, “Anyway… which one of you wantss to try firsst?” Frisk spoke nervously, they asked, “Will… the fall hurt?” Serol frowned and shook his head, “It’ss safe. The drop iss jusst under ten feet. You should land on your feet, and it should only hurt for a few ssecondss if at all.” “You promise?” Serol nodded, “I promisse, and I will only assk you two to go through onccce each. Iss thiss agreeable?” Asriel smiled softly, “Well… if it’s not dangerous… then okay!” Frisk nodded calmly, “It’s only once...” Serol smiled, “Okay! Jussstep on any panel and the puzzle will ssta-“ He cut himself off and widened his eyes, “Wait! Hold on!” Serol jumped off the edge, which made Asriel panic. He instinctually called out Serol’s name in shock. Asriel and Frisk ran up toward the edge and looked over cautiously. They saw Serol slithering and gripping onto the puzzle mechanisms, safe as long as he held tight. He seemed to fiddle with a few things before a small, mechanical sound echoed for a moment. It stopped soon after. Satisfied, Serol quickly returned to the path. However, instead of joining Frisk and Asriel on their side of the puzzle, Serol slithered and crawled until he reached opposite side of the puzzle without touching any of the puzzle panels. He returned to the path on that side of the puzzle, unharmed. That side seemed messier than the other. More notes and schematics littered the path, along with either warped or spare parts for the puzzle. Even a few substitute containers laid on their sides, obviously empty for quite some time. Serol ignored the mess and focused on the puzzle and its two testers. He gave a giddy smile towards Frisk and Asriel as he called out, “Everything iss all sset! One of you sstart when you are ready!!” He went to reach for something but did not immediately find it. Confused, he searched the mess around him. He tossed numerous parts and substitute cans aside. He let out an ‘ah ha!’ sound as he found what he had searched for: a notepad and a pen. He clicked the pen and opened the notepad. He was ready to write notes on the test run.

As Serol searched frantically for pen and paper, Asriel turned and smiled at Frisk, “I think… I’ll go first.” Frisk turned towards Asriel and frowned, “Are you sure?” Asriel nodded, “Yeah. Wish me luck!” Frisk smiled in response. Asriel became calm and turned their gaze towards the puzzle. He breathed in deeply before he expelled it to calm his nerves. He hesitated at first, but he soon gingerly stepped on the middle panel of the first row. Immediately, all the panels seemed to light up with a bright light. All except the one Asriel stood on. The one Asriel stood on began to shake. Behind Asriel, a metal-barred gate suddenly shot up from the trench-like hole, cutting off his chance to escape. Serol gave a quick nod and scribbled something onto the notepad. Asriel began to panic, “Aaaah! What do I do?!” Serol looked up from his notes, “Quick! Move to another panel!” Asriel ran to the panel to his left just before the original panel split in two and quickly opened to the area below. The new panel’s lights turned off. Asriel began to breathe quickly in panic before he noticed the panel had begun to shake as well. Asriel screamed and began to run wildly around the puzzle. He cried out, “Why do they keep shaking?!” Serol called out calmly as he took more notes, “It’ss part of the puzzle! It’ss to alert you to move! Hurry! Time will run out ssoon!” “What happens when time runs out?!” “You’ll sssee!”

Asriel suddenly came to a stop, in his wild run, he forgot to give any rhyme or reason to the pattern in which he ran. He had run diagonals and sharp turns and found himself trapped with open panels around him. He felt the panel shake below him, ready to open in a few seconds. Despite his legs shaking, he took the risk and jumped. Both Serol and Frisk had their eyes focused on Asriel as he jumped. But, Asriel did not jump far enough. He felt himself fall. He screamed as he descended into the mechanism and landed with a dull thud and an ‘oof!’ sound. Frisk gasped and called out, “Asriel?!” Serol turned his head downwards towards the puzzle, “Are you alright?” Asriel whined, “Yeah! Just… landed on my butt…” Serol nodded as he began to scribble more notes, “Good choiccce of cushion!” Asriel huffed, prompting a sigh of relief from Frisk. Before he could say anything, the three heard a buzzing sound. As the buzzer sounded, all of the panels opened simultaneously. They stayed open for about ten seconds before every panel, including the ones Asriel had stepped on, closed. The gate also dropped slowly, allowing Frisk entry. The puzzle had reset. Asriel whined, “How do I get out?!” Serol pointed his head downwards, “Do you ssee the two rows of panelss? Come to them.” Asriel did so, Serol could now see Asriel stand there nervously. Asriel called up, “Now what do I do?” Serol smiled, “There isss a release on the sside of the puzzle that would allow thosse panelss to come up. However, the panelss alsso risse when the puzzle is completed succcesssfully. Why don’t we allow Frisssk to try?” Asriel crossed his arms and pouted, “But, then I won’t get to see Frisk do the puzzle!” Serol huffed in annoyance as he put down his notepad and pen, “Fine. Ssstay sstill.” Serol turned his head towards Frisk, “Do not ssstart the puzzle yet!” Frisk nodded silently and began to space out. Serol, satisfied yet still annoyed, jumped to the side of the puzzle once more. There were a few mechanical noises before a click sounded. Mechanics whirred as the panels Asriel stood on began to rise. Surprised, he nearly fell down onto the rising platforms. The panels became level with the others and came to a stop with another click sound. Serol called out, “Go to my sside! Do not touch the other panelss, otherwisse the puzzle will sstart up again!” Asriel nodded silently before he walked off the panels and onto Serol’s side of the puzzle. He leaned around the edge and called out to Serol, “Okay! I’m off!” More mechanical sounds hummed from the puzzle before the two final rows of panels descended. The puzzle was once again reset. Serol made his way to his side of the puzzle, careful not to touch any panels. Asriel and Serol returned to the middle of the path. Serol picked up his notepad and pen before he turned the notepad to a new page. He turned his gaze towards Frisk, “Ready whenever you are Frissk!” Frisk blinked, their daydream ended. They called out from across the puzzle, “Okay!”

Frisk took a moment to examine the puzzle and think about its rules. They knew the puzzle would begin the very instant they stepped on any panel, as Asriel demonstrated. The panel they stepped on would shake and then open after a few seconds, which would then trap anyone that stood on them inside a lower compartment. Frisk didn’t time the entire length of the puzzle but saw there wasn’t much room for error. Frisk gave a determined gaze. They knew what to do. Frisk approached the leftmost panel in the first row. They stopped short of stepping onto it. They lowered their stance, ready to run. They closed their eyes and took a deep breath in before they released it just as slow. They opened their eyes, their eyes full of focus and determination. They sprinted onto the first panel. They heard the gate shoot up behind them and saw the panels all light up around them. The puzzle had begun. Frisk did not hesitate, they sprinted down the first row. They barely felt the panels below them shake as they only took a few steps before they made it to the next panel. Serol began to scribble down more notes as they saw Frisk dash across the puzzle with seeming ease. Frisk turned onto the second row and turn around to activate the entire row rather than activate the sides of the puzzle.  They went for each row one by one. Serol nodded as he wrote his notes, “A good sstrategy! They are a puzzle massster!” Asriel raised a brow, “I… didn’t know that about them…”

As Frisk turned onto the fourth row, they felt their foot snag on the piece of loose metal. Frisk gasped before they began to fall and faceplant into the first panel of the fourth row. Asriel gasped at Frisk’s sudden fall, “Frisk!” Serol said nothing. He only scribbled a note before he continued to observe. Frisk groaned. They felt the panel begin to shake. Did they have enough time to move? Frisk had to try. Frisk got up as quickly as they could and began to run to the next panel. They felt the shaking stop. The panel opened under them. Frisk’s eyes widened, but they didn’t scream. They saw how close they were to the edge and grabbed onto it. Serol’s head moved forward to see what had happened, “Interesting…” Asriel called out, “Frisk! Are you alright!?” Frisk grunted as the pulled themselves up, “I’m… alright!” The panel they had grabbed opened, leaving only a small area to pull themselves up onto. Frisk nearly fell down as they lost the panel. They tried to pull themselves up but found that they couldn’t. With the sound of the buzzer, Frisk lost their grip and fell into the dark compartment with a worried cry. They landed on their butt, then their back. They groaned and slowly stood up. They examined their surroundings. On one side, near perfect darkness with cracks in the mechanics, where peaks of the magma’s light shined through. On the other, seemingly a way out. Two rows of panels, and above them was the only exit. Frisk could hear Asriel call from the exit, “Frisk! Are you okay?!” Frisk rubbed their back and answered with a slight strain in their voice, “Yeah… rough… landing…” Serol called out in worry, “Are you able to move, Frisssk?!” Frisk called out, “Yes!” Serol sounded pleased, “Pleasse move to the two rowss of panelss and sstay sstill!” Frisk made their way to the panels and waited. Serol soon helped Frisk out of the puzzle as he had done previously with Asriel. Once Frisk was off the panels, the puzzle reset with Serol’s guidance.

With the three on the opposite side of the puzzle, Serol landed near Frisk and Asriel. He beamed, “Thank you for helping me with my puzzle!” Frisk rubbed their back once more. Asriel frowned and looked at Frisk, “Are you sure you’re okay?” Frisk nodded, “Yeah… just a little pain.. it should go away soon…” Serol once more scooped up his notepad and began to flip through the pages, “I already know what to adjusst. I alsso will have to fix whatever you tripped on, Frissk! And find a way to keep humanss from gripping the sssidess of the panelss!” Frisk frowned, “Um… Serol-“ Serol nearly jumped in excitement, “You were sssoo clossse, Frisssk! I thought for sssure you were going to massster the puzzle! You moved like an expert!” Frisk spoke up slightly, “Serol!” Serol calmed down as they turned their head curiously towards Frisk. He positioned his head in front of Frisk’s head. Serol spoke calmly, “Yess?” Frisk gave a determined gaze, “I want to try again.” Serol’s head reeled back into place slowly, “Why? Our deal wass only one try each…” Frisk frowned for a second. Why did they have this sudden desire to try the puzzle again? Their mind drifted to Papyrus. They knew from their short time with him that he’d be proud of this puzzle. They could practically hear his voice cheering them on, despite his weariness. Encouragement such as, ‘That was so close! I’m sure you’ll get it next time…’ Frisk could see his smile in the back of their mind. Frisk could not help but smile at the memories as they spoke, “I… I just want to try and complete it…” Serol scratched his chin, “Hmm… I ssupposse it would be good to sssee if thiss puzzle can be completed fairly…” Serol nodded and smiled, “Okay! Let’ss do it!”

Frisk then looked over toward the other side. They raised a brow, “But… how do I get over there?” Serol crossed his arms and huffed slightly, “If I had my tail, I could carry you over with easse. But then again... you don’t look that heavy…” Frisk gave Serol a strange look, but before they or Asriel could react, Serol wrapped his arms around Frisk tightly. Asriel and Frisk’s eyes widened in tandem, and both were equally paralyzed in shock. Serol held Frisk tightly before he jumped across the puzzle, easily making it across in one jump. Serol let go of Frisk after the two had landed safely. Frisk’s expression was still one of shock and fear as Serol let go. Serol crooked his head in confusion, “Wasss… it that ssurprissing?” Frisk blinked and shook their head. Their heart pounded in fear, but their expression was calmed. Frisk gave a nervous expression, “A little…” Serol snickered, “I used to be able to jump much farther with the assssissstancce of my tail.” Frisk nearly paled at the thought of Serol’s potential mobility. Serol’s eyes widened slightly, “Are you alright? Are you sure that fall did not harm you?” Frisk normalized and shook their head. There was already enough strangeness to this situation. For a moment, Frisk regretted the desire to redo the puzzle. Frisk’s skin returned to normal as they shook their head, “I think… I was still shocked from the sudden jump.” Serol let loose a sigh of relief, “Thank goodnesss… you sscared me for a ssecond…” Serol turned towards the other side of the puzzle, “Ssstart whenever you are ready.” Frisk nodded just before Serol jumped across the puzzle one last time. Asriel quickly gave Serol his notepad back on arrival. Serol beamed at the gesture, “Thank you, Asssriel!”

Frisk saw Asriel and Serol patiently wait on the other side of the puzzle. Frisk decided to start at the same spot as their first attempt. They took another deep breath in and out. Serol nodded and muttered, “Sstarting in the ssame placce? Let uss hope it is not inssanity…” Frisk began the puzzle. They ignored everything around them other than the puzzle panels. Asriel’s cheers were drowned out in their concentration. Only the panels existed. They turned and went down the next row with ease, and the next. They came to the fourth row. Their eyes locked onto the piece of metal that tripped them up. They moved their feet in such a way as they wouldn’t have to jump over the metal. They simply ran beside it. They felt their pants tear slightly, but they kept going. They made it to the final row. They could see the final panel. They ran to it. They stopped on it. A new sound rang. A chiming sound. All the panels around them closed and the mechanics began to whir. In front of them, the two rows of panels rose and connected the path. Not with Serol’s guidance. Serol and Asriel both beamed. Serol rushed up to Frisk with unbridled glee. They hugged Frisk and spun them around, “IT WORKSSS!!” He gave a joyous, raucous laughter. Asriel slowly began to walk towards the two. Serol slowed down as Asriel approached. Both of them paused, their eyes filled with shock. Serol’s were more filled with confusion than shock. Frisk raised a brow, “Serol? What is?-“ They felt it. Wetting their sock and making their pants cling to them. They were bleeding. Serol looked down at Frisk in shock as they still clutched them. The blood was clear in their gaze. His voice was quiet, filled with confusion, “F-Frissk? You’re… human?”

[auburnfamilynews]

https://twitter.com/height_romello/status/1207368332279713796

Hype train engaged

Auburn signed the 7th ranked class in the 2020 recruiting cycle. That means the recruiting services thought very highly of Auburn’s signees overall. While the Tigers did not have a single 247 Composite five-star, their class did include 16 four star prospects. That’s pretty durn good.

At a macro level, these sites do a great job of identifying what programs are doing the best job at bringing in the most top-level talent. But on an individual basis there are always misses. A guy like Byron Cowart struggles to see snaps and transfers out while a late addition like Daniel Thomas emerges as a top SEC safety and ends up a 5th round NFL Draft pick.

When I look at Auburn’s 2020 signing class and their individual rankings, one player stands out as being undervalued. That player? Surprise Early Signing Day flip Romello Height.

Height finished ranked #392 by 247 Composite barely missing blue chip status with a 0.8884 rating. Both 247 and ESPN graded Height as four star calibre player but just barely while Rivals was the lowest ranking Height as the 34th best OLB prospect in the 2020 class.

I think they are all wrong.

Romello Height committed to Miami in July. He then spent most of the next four to five months, being an incredibly vocal supporter of the Canes and denying any interest in other programs. On his highlight tape, you can even see him sometimes throw up the U after a sack. But while publicly Height seemed locked in as a Cane (including that 1,000% committed tweet) behind the scenes things were not as they seemed.

As that fall went on there was buzz that Auburn had made the Dublin High School stand out their top priority at the Buck. Possibly even liking him more for that position than top 100 player 4* LB Phillip Webb. That buzz got even louder when Webb and Auburn mutually parted ways cancelling his official visit. On early signing day, Height announced he was in fact switching his pledge to the Tigers while Webb eventually signed with LSU.

Ready for a hot take? I think Auburn got the better player. I don’t mean that as a put down on Webb. The kid is elite. I just think Romello Height has 1st round NFL Draft type of upside as a pass rusher. Let’s see why

247 is doing a really cool series where they breakdown what lessons they have learned from recent NFL Drafts when it comes to evaluating prospects. Last week, 247’s posted an article on edge prospects and what they look for when evaluating a prospect. Here’s an excerpt:

The group averaged 6-foot-3.9 and 220.5 pounds as high school prospects. Just five of the 32 were under 6-foot-3 at the NFL Combine (which often tends to be shorter than high school listings) with one under 6-foot-2 – Michigan’s Josh Uche who was athletic as a high school prospect running a verified 4.59 second 40-yard dash. On the flip-side, none were 6-foot-6 or taller. Six of the 32 weighed over 240 pounds as high school prospects with just one over 260 (Rashan Gary).

If you’re assuming the group is full of long, big-framed athletes given the average height and weight, you’d be correct. Many of these edges have the length and frames to pack on weight once in a college strength program. The group averaged a 33.7 inch arm, 9.8 inch hand and 80.5 inch (6-foot-8.5) wingspan. For those not well-versed in dimensions, those are all on the high end. Just one had an arm length shorter than 32.5 inches. There was one hand under 9 inches and 1 wingspan under 6-foot-5.5. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that over half of the group played basketball in high school, many at a high level.

So what do they look like as high school prospects? I mentioned earlier most showed pass rush ability in high school. We have stats on 25 of the 32. The group as a whole was quite productive on the field, averaging 74 tackles, 24 tackles for loss and 13.2 sacks as seniors in high school. Over two-thirds of those with stats had double-digit sacks.

So how does Height stack up to these comparisons? Well first off, there’s his frame. Auburn’s official site lists him at 6’4” 217 lbs. That’s almost a perfect match to the average size 247 lists as ideal for edge prospects coming out of high school.

As for production? Height was incredibly productive as a senior at Dublin High School putting up 27 tackles for loss and 16 sacks as a senior. That’s better production than the average 247sports.com found when looking at 25 of the 32 most recently drafted edge players during their senior seasons in high school.

But numbers and frame are just a piece of a puzzle. Some players are just more athletic than their opponents and thrive by simply bulldozing would be blockers or running around them. That happens some in Height’s tape, just like every top prospect, but I was consistently impressed by HOW Height generate pressure. He wasn’t totally reliant on his freak athleticism. Here’s a great example.

Working on an article next week explaining why I think Romello Height is Auburn's most underrated 2020 signee Here's a taste pic.twitter.com/vhxbvRz6DG

— AUNerd (@AUSportsNerd) May 24, 2020

So what makes this play so great? Well first, I love that he’s rushing from a 4i technique (meaning he’s lined up on the tackle’s inside shoulder) out of a Tite front (two 4is and a nose tackle) which has become ubiquitous in college football and a favorite of Kevin Steele’s. I doubt Height will do this much for Auburn as in these types of looks the Buck is used as an outside rusher from an OLB spot but it shows some great versatility.

His rush starts with him going outside and he does a great job winning the initial hand fight. He gets his inside arm lock on the tackle’s chest and attempts to combine that leverage with his speed to get the corner. But what I love about this play is he doesn’t just continue to blindly rush up field. His eyes are still on the QB and when he sees the quarterback step up in the pocket and look to escape to his right, Height slams on the brakes while using that leverage he’s created from his hand placement to spin back and make the sack. That’s a kid deploying his elite tools in a way that can translate to the next level.

Time and time again, I saw Height not rely just on speed or power. Even on this play, where he doesn’t end up with the sack, you can see his skills.

This tackle is well aware of Height’s ability to get the corner so the tackle attempts to get great depth to cut off the edge. Height sees the tackle is over playing him, gets his inside hand into the chest of the tackle and then deploys a devastating spin move that still leaves him in a great position to make the play. He doesn’t finish but again this rep shows a prospect that is already deploying counter moves with his rush.

But speed is absolutely apart of his game and it’s something Auburn has missed since Jeff Holland’s departure in 2017.

One of the buzz words people like to use when discussing pass rushers is “bend”. What scouts/analysts/pretend experts on the internet mean when they say “this player has great bend” is that the pass rusher is able to get low at the top of the rush, drop his hips, turn his body and take a flat path to the quarterback for a sack. In this clip you get to see Height’s great bend. Notice how when he gets past the offensive tackle, he doesn’t have to take any recovery steps to get to the quarterback but is able to instead make a straight line and get the sack. That’s great bend.

But playing the Buck spot doesn’t mean just blowing by tackles to get sacks. If you are going to play for Rodney Garner you better be able to set the edge. Unsurprisingly, Height didn’t get very many opportunities as a run stopper as teams tended to either run away from him or take him out by reading him. There were some reps though that show the potential to handle that responsibility at the next level.

No player is perfect, especially a former high schooler entering his first season as an SEC football player, so I think it’s important to also highlight some areas of improvement. For me, there are three specific aspects of Height’s game I would like to see improve:

Lower Body Strength

First Step

Motor

That first note shouldn’t come as a surprise. Pretty much every freshman needs to get stronger in order for them to play at the next level. Height is far from weak and looks well-built on tape but in order for some of these pass rush moves to translate against SEC offensive tackles, he will have to improve his lower body strength. Something I expect to happen quickly given Height’s frame.

The second note is an interesting one. What I mean by “first step” is the ability to get out of his stance on the snap of the ball and into the play. Often when watching Height’s tape, he was the last player out of his stance.

It’s hard to completely see full speed in this gif but I actually froze a number of his plays right after the snap and found him more times than I would like to see still in his stance when everyone else was in motion. It was honestly bizarre because there are instances where you see him just blow by a blocker but it didn’t happen regularly enough for a kid with his talent. I think though it’s tied in some part to note #3.

Probably the biggest area of improvement for Height will be learning to play through the whistle every snap. First, let me be fair to the kid. He played almost every single snap for his high school team. Dublin used him as a run blocking tight end in their Single Wing offense and he was also asked to cover kicks. Add all that to also playing in the trenches every snap as an end and I suspect this is more due to Height trying to conserve energy than necessarily a problem with effort.

Still though there were times where I feel if he had kept playing, he could have made an impact on the play.

This is a far cry from Marlon Davidson obliterating Garrett Shrader 13+ yards down field after initially running by him in the backfield. Here the offense runs a nice little quick concept to hit the WR on the drag route. Height (#3) rushes up field, sees the ball is thrown behind him and then just casually walks down the field as the wide out picks up a huge gain. I have a hard time believing given Height’s quickness, he wouldn’t have at least stopped this play from being a 20+ yard gain if he had played through the whistle. Maybe he would not have an impact on the play but you would like to see him at least try.

That’s something though that will get corrected REALLY quick under Rodney Garner. If you wanna play for Coach G, you better bring it every single snap or you won’t see the field. I fully expect to see better from Height moving forward.

When you add up Height’s frame, athletic gifts, production and tape, I don’t see a high 3*/borderline 4* player. I see a top 100 prospect with first round potential. To me, he’s the exact type of weapon this Auburn defense has been without the past two seasons. I’m doubtful he makes a major impact as a true freshman due to the unusual offseason and Auburn’s returning depth on the edge but I firmly believe that before Height’s career is through on the Plains he will be one of the more feared pass rushers in the SEC.

War Eagle!

from College and Magnolia - All Posts https://www.collegeandmagnolia.com/2020/5/26/21269042/romello-height-auburns-most-underrated-2020-signee

[sy-maya]

Passage to New Zealand and next steps

Stats until now: sailing for 3.5 years, 18′130 nautical miles (33′580 km)

Family and friends ask us about our next steps. What next? Where do we go? What will we do? How long still? The short and the long answer is: We don’t know yet. But we’ll let you know as soon as we figure it out. In the next days, we have to do some repairs on Maya, haul her out, organize all that. Herbert has to catch up with work (Shortcut). Then, we’d like to do some sight seeing with the kiddos (Christmas?), etc. After that, we will see… Stay tuned! ;-)

In the meantime, here is our passage to NZ day by day. Thanks to our dear friend Grégoire Meylan for posting these in out FB page and thank you all for your motivating comments!

Some impressions can be found here: FB Album NZ Passage 

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Day 1: Between Storm and Hurricane November 16-17, 2017

We left Tongatapu yesterday at noon and had a smooth start. Our friends Peter and Renate from the German boat SY Mardos left 2 hours ahead. Cool to have a sailing buddy. Even if we don’t see them, it’s good to know that there is somebody close by. We were analyzing the weather together for weeks, making Excel sheets and weighting different options (the good old German/Swiss way). A bit of background information. This passage is probably the most tricky/dangerous one we ever made. Until now we were stable trade-wind sailors, but down here, the weather changes from one hour to the other. Predictions are very unreliable e.g. now we should have 10 knots wind. In fact we have 20 knots. This is a 100% error :-/. At least the direction is correct. Also, there are weekly spring storms raging on the north coast of New Zealand (up to 30S). There is one right now with wind speeds of a predicted 50 knots. This means gusts up to 60-70 knots in reality. Not good. In comparison, you can imagine holding your head out of the car window at 140km/h. Now imagine it is your entire home that is looking out of that car window and on top of the street rushes 8-9m waves. We don’t want that and that’s the reason why we did not leave last time we planned to. We might have just passed before that storm, but any problem with the engine at the wrong moment could happen and boooom. We are so happy though, that our friends from SY Carapitanga and SY MeliMela just made it on time this morning! The weather window we are taking right now looks much better, at least for now. Weather might still change and will change. Second reason why this is a tricky passage are the hurricanes in the South Pacific. The season started November 1st. Even if there are no reported hurricanes before December 1st in Tonga, we do not want to risk to stay too long. Hurricanes are also very unpredictable constructs. There are outliers in every season. We checked before leaving and there is no hurricane in sight down here. We are right between storm and hurricane. Good that we get weather on board and have daily radio rounds with our friends here. Thanks HAM radio.

Due to the tricky weather here, some of our friend sailors (actually most of them) rely on the help of some weather guru. We don’t. He sent about 16 boats to New Zealand at the wrong time. They were all stuck at Minerva, a reef in the middle of the ocean, for almost 2 weeks in order to take a very risky weather window (the one we decided to avoid). We hope they all arrived safe and sound in New Zealand. But of course, at the end, everyone is free to do what they want, but we prefer to listen to our guts and blame only ourselves if something goes wrong.

Initially, we wanted to see Minerva, a reef about 2 days SW from Tonga in the middle of the ocean. However, the current wind direction below 30S does not allow for a visit (reminds us when we wanted to see Coco Island from Costa Rica to Galapagos and the wind was blowing from the wrong direction. History is repeating). We never made it there. Most ‘experts’ say to go west and then south to catch the west winds after 30S. Currently, the wind blows from E down there and this already since weeks. A change in the wind pattern cannot be seen. Therefore, we go South, until the SE wind comes in. Completely against all sailing literature. (BTW, there are tens of boats waiting in Fiji and New Caledonia already for weeks to cross, but they have the wind right against, and Hurricanes in the back).

Hope our guts will be right and we will make it safe and sound. So far so good.

Fun fact: By going south, we crossed the political time zone again to yesterday and will cross it once more in a couple of days to tomorrow. Don’t ask what day it is here :-)

We had Chili con Carne for lunch&dinner.

position at 9pm UTC+/-??? https://waypoint.li/map?q=-24.872,-175.0814

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Day 2: Active volcanos and pitted dates. November 17-18, 2017

We’re still heading straight south to catch the wind. The night was calm and nice. This morning, we started the engine to keep up the speed. At least, we listen to one of the sailor golden rules for the NZ crossing: DO NOT SPARE THE FUEL, KEEP UP THE SPEED WITH OR WITHOUT WIND! ;-) But still, we fly reef III on the main sail, safety first! We’ve sailed 360 NM, and there are 7xx NM more to go. Our average speed is 6.3kn. It was a lovely day, with smooth (motor)sailing. Even the sun decided to show up at the late afternoon, just in time to give us a wonderful sunset. So far so good.

The boys are fine, very energetic and challenging :-) They are quite excited by the surrounding sea trenches (more than 10km deep) and volcanic activities. We showed them on the map how we are crossing a geologically interesting (and scaring) active underwater area. So, instead of watching for dolphins or whales, they are fantasizing about eventual volcanos “Did you see that? I spotted some smoke, it is definitely a volcano!”.

We had yummy butternut Tortelloni for lunch and a chocolate-banana-dates-sesame cake for dessert. We’re trying to use all the “forbidden” items before coming to NZ. No fresh food, no dairy, no seeds, no lentils, etc. They have a very strict list in order to preserve their beautiful islands. The main question among sailors before leaving Tonga was “Do you need by any chance some lentils?”. It became a running gag ;-) For the story, our friends Meri&Manu from SY Carapitanga/Paprika, gave us a big bag of dates before heading to NZ. Asma was very happy and proud to find out that they were actually from Tunisia! Yeaaaah! The bag is almost empty now ;-) Position at 9pm UTC+/-??? https://waypoint.li/map?q=-26.732,-175.21

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Day 3: South, More South, Most South November 18-19, 2017

Again nice sailing, smooth conditions. The weather forecast seems to be reliable and stable. We are very grateful, so far so good. After sailing straight south since we left Tonga, today we switched to bearing Whangarei, NZ. 480NM behind us, and still 655 NM to go. We crossed this afternoon the 28S longitude, we have never been so far South. The most South we got was Pitcairn Islands (25S) in September 2016, when we first crossed the Pacific from Galapagos. We are all excited about it :-) Small things in sailing life. The air temperature is still nice here, and we are enjoying every bit of it, because our friends on the radio are complaining about the ice cold NZ! Brrrrr. We had a butternut soup for lunch. Soup leftovers and pop corn for dinner ;-). Yummy.

Position at 9pm UTC-11 (we figured it out, officially, it’s Sat 18th here until we cross the date line again.) https://waypoint.li/map?q=-28.603,-176.418

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Day 4: Half distance November 19-20, 2017

While writing these lines, we are only a few miles away from half the distance to Whangarei - New Zealand. Today, nothing spectacular but the sunrise, the sunset, the starry sky, and a splendid day of sailing. We read a lot to the kids. Adam is in Harry Potter fever and Herbert got addicted too (again). So he finished the remaining three chapters of the second book. Adam was so impressed that Asma had to tell him a lot of bedtime stories to get his mind off the scary passages. Samy didn’t understand all the details - better for his sleep quality. ;-)

Position: https://waypoint.li/map?q=-30.00,-177.04

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Day 5: Wind of Change ;-) November 20-21, 2017

After a quiet night, the wind is turning to the right side (From S to SE). Exactly as forecasted. The bearing is 230, straight to Whangarei NZ. Still 440NM to go. We’re passing the Kermadec Ridge right at this moment. Quite rough seas with gusts up to 30 knots (“Dream conditions” for Herbert, “Not So” for Asma but OK, the boys are sleeping). Quite impressive to be in these surroundings. Volcanos -new and old-, marine reserves, birds everywhere. We even spotted our first Albatross, which was following us for more than an hour. Amazing beast! Herbert somehow managed to injure his left hand. It got infected and quite swollen, which led to fever and weakness. Trying to fix him with antibiotic ointment. Last green lentils, carrots and potatoes stew for lunch&dinner.

Position: https://waypoint.li/map?q=-31.072,-178.917

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Day 6: 180 West or 180 East? November 21-22, 2017

The day started with a celebration: we crossed the 180W/E longitude line (and therefore the date line once again)! We have officially circumnavigated half the globe. Our last watermelon has been opened for the occasion ;-). The sailing has been quite bumpy, according to Asma, who is more than looking forward to its direction changing easterly so that we have the wind more from the stern! Herbert and the boys, of course, find it very cool. Maya is rocking, and after all it’s much more fun to play with toy cars when the floor of the living room is inclined by 30 degrees. There are not many houses like this out there. Adam had the ingenious idea to build a sleigh with our IKEA plates. It worked fine and it didn’t take long until the first plate broke… Because of these conditions, only leftovers for lunch (lentils yet again) and some crackers and pop corn for dinner. No way to cook! Even washing the dishes or moving from A to B reveals to be very sporty and to be carefully planned for. The good thing is that we could spot our buddy SV MARDOS since yesterday night and still now, we are about 3NM apart and could talk on the VHF radio! Funny! Herbert’s injury is not getting better, therefore we switched to antibiotics. The wound looks like a volcano by now! He feels a little better, though. Some readers might wonder what we are doing during our night watches when outside it’s freezing and the waves transform Maya into a roller coaster. Asma is watching Big Bang Theory and Herbert - officially on holiday - is (as a hobby) helping a Swiss startup implementing some features for their iPhone app. What a nerdy family ;o) Still 294NM to go. Good night! Position: https://waypoint.li/map?q=-32.60,178.73

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Day 7: Last night? November 22-23, 2017

After a rocky night, we had a very nice and smooth sailing day. Sun, no waves, perfect wind (Herbert: boring ;-) ). Well, the temperature is getting lower and lower (air at 20 and water at 18 degrees), and we adapt our layers of clothing, so it goes from 0 (only underwear) to 1 (t-shirt for Herbert) or 2 layers (fleece jacket and thick socks for Asma). The boys start with more layers after waking up, but end up with underwear after a few hours. Maya is well isolated, so we only notice the cold when we go outside, which happens less and less by the way… Bye bye tropics :-(

Still, we are all excited for the next chapter of our family journey. We have been sailing one week from Tonga, and it is - most probably - our last night at sea for a long time. Asma was very busy emptying the provisions, so there was much more cooking than yesterday: a bread with (last) whole grain flour and (last) seeds for breakfast, Gnocchis with (last) fresh tomatoes for lunch, a cake with (last) eggs, and (last) hazelnuts and (last) dates for the snack; and finally (last) sausages for dinner. For the New Zealand immigration, we have to get rid of all food items before arriving, and give a list of all “risk goods”. Herbert has been filling these forms. He could even call the officials on the maritime radio via SSB, to inform them of our soon arrival. His hand is getting better, but still a bit weak. The antibiotics are doing their job.

1042 NM behind us and less than 140NM to go until the customs berth in Marsden Cove marina, Whangarei NZ.

Position: https://waypoint.li/map?q=-34.268,176.459

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Day 8: Arrival November 23-24, 2017

At midnight, Herbert woke Asma up for her shift with a “We have a problem, the wind is gone, and the temporary autopilot doesn’t want to work, argh!”. Asma put on 5 layers of clothes and went outside to steer by hand. Herbert tried and tried to fix the problem without success, so he eventually went to sleep until his next shift. Asma was actually very happy to be steering outside despite the cold. It was our last night sailing (well at least for a while ;-)), so we fully enjoyed the starry sky and the peacefulness of the night. It gave us the opportunity to think about all this amazing journey.

At 6:30am, the kids woke up, put warm clothes on and went outside with Asma. Adam could steer, while she prepared their breakfast. He was so proud to help :-) At 10am, Herbert woke up and started to fix the autopilot again. Debugging. At 11am, it was working! Yesss, now, no time to sleep or rest, we have to clean the boat for clearance because we want to arrive today!! And we will. We could have slowed the pace and spent another night on sea but no, we want to arrive on Friday, as planned ;-)

Maya was grateful to be cared of and to be clean and neat. Even the boys were like “Ah wow, Maya looks nice like this!”. And both of us thought ”THAT’S THE WAY SHE WOULD BE IF YOU KIDS WOULDN’T MAKE A MESS ALL THE TIME”, but we didn’t say it. We’ve just asked them to keep her like this at least until the customs come in next day, otherwise they wouldn’t let us stay in New Zealand. Hihihi develish parents, but it worked :-) For lunch, we had some precooked French delicatessen: Boeuf Bourguignon and Ratatouille :-)

At 5pm, the boys were screaming “Land in Sight! We see New Zealand!”. So cool. We will make it. They went to bed to sleep a little bit in order to be fit when we arrive late. That’s what Samy did, except that he never woke up until next morning ;-) Adam was so excited, he couldn’t stay still for 1s, so we let him stay awake with us, and enjoy the breathtaking scenery outside. For dinner, Herbert, who was still in the mood of French cuisine, and who didn’t want to throw away all onions and garlic, cooked a wonderful onion soup. Yummy!

By 8:30pm, Adam was getting tired and overexcited. He could only calm down and sleep when Herbert laid with him in bed and promised to wake him up when we arrive. Which we actually did, but he was so tired, he just fell back asleep ;-) Herbert took radio contact with the NZ harbor to announce our arrival. It was getting dark, we were tired but also excited, that instead of taking shifts to rest, we just sat together outside to steer and enjoy our last miles under a new moon, clear sky, shooting stars, flat sea, and welcoming land lights. It was very emotional. We are really here. We did it. Amazing.

The harbor entry was quite tricky at night, we were so happy to have the navigation charts. It all went well with a huge amount of Adrenalin. At 11:15pm, we were safely docked at the customs’ berth at Marsden Cove Marina. Exhausted but overwhelmed by gratefulness.

Good night from New Zealand!

Position: https://waypoint.li/map?q=-35.8367,174.4686

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Day 9: Ship capsized and sank November 24-25, 2017

At 6:30am, the boys woke up and cheered “WE ARE IN NEW ZEALAND!!!”. No way to sleep any longer :-). We woke up, took our breakfast, and cleared up. At 8:20am, the immigration officer arrived, followed later by the quarantine one. This latter was Mike Barker, the guy we met in Vava’u during the “Blue Water Festival” (Corresponding blogpost still to come), and who we asked all about food clearance in NZ. Nice to see a familiar face at arrival. It went all well, and at 9:20am, we were officially cleared in! We learned from the custom officials that two ships didn’t make the trip. One ship has to be abandoned, the other sank. The crew, however, could be saved in both cases. We were shocked. This happened exactly in the weather window we wanted to take first, but finally didn’t take (see one of the FB posts). Lesson learned: wait, wait, wait, until weather is stable.

It’s amazing how the clearance procedure in New Zealand is dramatized. Adjectives such as difficult, expensive, impossible, tedious, long, etc. are often used to describe it. People start preparing already months before arrival. The truth is: It is very easy to clear in to New Zealand. The assistance of the officials is unbelievable and it takes no longer than 15 minutes to get cleared. This is about 4 times faster than Tonga for example. Not to mention the countries in Latin America. There is not much paper work to be done and it doesn’t cost a cent. Well, that is OUR experience, may be, we were indeed very well prepared ;-)

After clearance, we moved straight to our berth B52 (what a great berth name ;-) ). At 10am, we left the boat and went exploring the marina.

The Marsden Cove Marina is outside of Whangarei, the main city here. There is not much. Therefore, it took us quite some time to get decent Internet to write these posts.

By the way, Herbert’s hand is getting better. He hasn’t been to a doctor yet (everything is closed), but first thing on Monday.

The little we saw so far - the meadows, the woods, the cows, etc. - reminds us of Switzerland. Well, there are some palm trees, but otherwise, really similar. On top of that, everything is so clean. What also hit us was that everybody is so white. Really white skin. Or pale? ;-) The ‘small’ supermarket has everything one can imagine (well, at least for us) we bought fresh vegetables (Broccoli, which we missed most during our trip), fruits (KIWIS ;-), strawberries and blueberries), some meat, CHEESE :-))) to prepare a nice dinner. On Maya, the meat already marinated, and the veggies chopped, we fired up the stove. At least, we wanted to fire it up. However, it didn’t work. Gas was empty. Wow, how lucky are we. If this would have happened some days or hours earlier… Anyway, what now? It’s late Saturday afternoon. When do the stores close here? Let’s ask our neighbors form SY Tregoning if they can help somehow. Luckily, they had a spare gas bottle. We hooked it up and were able to start cooking. While Herbert prepared dinner, Asma went to check whether the shop was still open and had some gas. Yeah, it did. We were saved.

After dinner, we watched a movie with the kids and went all early to bed. Good night!

Position: https://waypoint.li/map?q=-35.8373,174.4685

[wincestreversebang]

2017 Master Post

Sexual Addiction Clinics Are Not Dating Services Artist: emmatheslayer Author: anon1adult Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: PWP || Great liberties were taken in regard to Addiction Treatment Centers Staff/Client interactions. Summary: Dean pressed a hand to his forehead in frustration. He gets caught having sex with one coworker over his desk and suddenly his boss is standing in his office saying, "Your work here at Sandover is invaluable Dean, and we don't want to lose that sharp mind of yours over a little misunderstanding. Instead of having this go on your record as a sexual harassment complaint we've decided you should attend a 30-day Sexual Addiction treatment center." It was like the bad setup to every porn Dean had ever watched. Art: Live Journal Story: Tumblr | Ao3

Lost And Found Artist: sketchydean Author: wetsammywinchester Rating: R Warnings/Spoilers: N/A Summary: Sam was five when it happened. Dean never gave up looking for his little brother but thirteen years of thin leads led nowhere. Until now. Art: Tumblr Story: Ao3

The Dark Place Artist: stormbrite Author: annie46 Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Suicidal thoughts, incest. Spoilers for Season 12 particularly the earlier episodes Summary: Mary gives Sam & Dean a hunting assignment - zombies. It seems simple enough but soon they discover that there is something much more sinister going on, and they find themselves in a very dark place. Art: Live Journal | Ao3 Story: Live Journal

Overdue Artist: 2blueshoes Author: laughablelament Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Up through 12x11, “Regarding Dean” Summary: “Maybe Sam’s right about the time off. Whatever else that he-witch did, seems like he defragged Dean’s hard drive. Changed all the file pathways, because, the shit he keeps remembering…” Art: Ao3 Story: Ao3

It’s not what it Looks Like Artist: stargazingchola Author: nerdypastrychef Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Bottom Sam, 96, barebacking, sexual tension, Mary finds out Summary: Working with a large group of people trained in observation has brought a lot of annoying comments to Sam and Dean recently. The tension and annoyance mounts until it finally reaches it’s breaking point. Art: Live Journal Story: Live Journal | Ao3

One of the Rotten Ones Artist: Sketchydean Author: lolo313 Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: N/A Summary: Throughout the years, through group homes and run-ins with the law, Sam and Dean have always had each other. With the other by their side, somehow they always make it through, even if their methods aren’t always legal. A collection of Sam’s birthdays, Dean’s fierce protectiveness, and Sam’s growing, undeniable love for his brother. Art: Tumblr Story: Ao3

The Dark Side of Apple Pie Artist: darklittleheart96 Author: anon1adult Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Rape/Non-con Elements || Rope Bondage Summary: Dean took a chance to set things right but it was foolish to think a knife would end God's Sister. Almost as foolish as thinking she wouldn't take his soul. Sam knows there is something wrong with his brother, but Dean's spike in kinky has him running on too much of an endorphin high to figure out what it is. Art: Tumblr Story: Ao3

Counting Bodies Like Sheep Artist: abeautifullie3 Author: darklittleheart Other Pairing: VERY brief Sam/OC; References to past Sam/OCs & Dean/OCs Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Wincest; FBI Agent!Dean; Mob Boss!Sam; Non-Hunting AU; Graphic Sex; Rough Sex; Non-Con; Graphic Violence; Minor Gore; Mild BDSM (no discipline, no S/M); Breath Play;Passing Mention of Sounding; Object Insertion; Drug Use (referenced, not depicted); References To Alcohol Abuse; Passing Reference To Homophobia; Minor Homophobic Slurs;References To Sam/OCs & Dean/OCs; VERY Brief Sam/OC; Badass!Boys Being, Well, Brothers...Who Fuck; Badass!Boys Falling In-love; Dean Winchester Is A Closet Kinky MOFO- errr...BroFO; Analingus/aka: Rimming/aka: Dean Eating the Fuck Outta Sammy's Ass; Prostitution – Including Underage (referenced, not depicted); Underage Physical and Sexual Abuse (referenced, not depicted); Death of Minor Characters and OCs; Death of Underage OCs (referenced, not depicted); Fast and Loose Legal – and Medical – Procedures; I Reiterate, AU, One In Which Jamaica Embraces the Rainbow...and Butt!Sex For All; Unless Your Kink Twists That Way (not shaming!), and You Squint Headache Inducingly Hard – No Underage Fapping Material In This One; Dark Themes and Depictions = Debatably Dark!fic; ...and, after all that: Happy Ending. Summary: Sam D'Eboli is a mobster. Special Agent Dean Winchester is assigned to take him down. Dean's okay with that double entendre...until he isn't. A connection that won't be denied, and secrets revealed, Dean's objective may no longer be the same as the FBI's. Art: Live Journal Story: Live Journal | Ao3

As The Morning Cries Artist: loracine Author: anniespinkhouse Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: ptsd, references to torture Summary: Set in Season 12 some time after First Blood. With Sam clearly traumatized every time he is near water Dean decides to hunt a morgen without him and becomes trapped. Alone in the dark again he has too much time to think and his only hope of escaping the faery realm is to keep his faith in Sam. Art: Live Journal Story: Ao3 | Dreamwidth

There's Something About Dean Lately Artist: tx_devilorangel Author: annie46 Other Pairing: Dean/everyone! Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers if you haven't seen any of Season 12. Summary: Seems that Mary wasn't the only person Amara brought back from the dead & soon the bunker is full of people. Dean seems to be very popular and, soon, every single person in the bunker wants to impress him. Flowers, chocolates, and the world itself are all on offer. Will Dean find his one true love amongst all of these suitors? And why is Sam acting so weirdly? Perhaps these two questions only have one answer...whatever that is, there is certainly something about Dean lately! Art: Live Journal Story: Live Journal

Fire Into Rain Artist: loracine Author: smalltrolven Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: N/A Summary: Turns out there are still dragons, Sam and Dean find that out the hard way. Art: Live Journal | Tumblr Story: Live Journal | Tumblr | Ao3

Nightmare Artist: kuwlshadow Rating: PG-13 Warnings: N/A Summary: Dean and Sam Winchester on a hunt on something that lurks in the dark. Art: Live Journal

Little Soul Artist: kuwlshadow Author: gatorgurl94 Rating: PG Warnings/Spoilers: mild language, boys kissing, spoilers for s8xep 23, suicidal ideation Summary: The path is a short one; it only takes a minute for them to come to its end where they find a pile of very familiar clothing- a scorched tan trench coat and what looks like a black suit jacket and pants- lying in the middle of blackened ground. There, on top of the pile lies the source of the wailing: a baby, its face pucefrom crying, its arms and legs kicking furiously as it continues to scream. Art: Live Journal Story: Ao3

Time Waits for No One Artist: kuwlshadow Author: amypond45 Rating: R Warnings/Spoilers: Minor spoilers up through s12ep17 Summary: During a routine hunt, Sam swaps places in time with his 13-year-old self. Dean and young-Sam try to fix it, taking a little road trip on the way, and Dean starts to think maybe things could be different this time. Art: Live Journal Story: Live Journal | Ao3

Shifting Destinies Artist: bluefire986 Author: lux_tuli Rating: PG-13 Warnings/Spoilers: N/A Summary: Drove away from their hometown, the Winchesters set up a life for themselves in the deepest reaches of the woods, a place which was largely left undisturbed by most humans. If only finding peace was so easy. Art: Live Journal | Ao3 Story: Dreamwidth

Our feet must tread in thorny paths Artist: stormbrite Author: soy_em Rating: R Warnings/Spoilers: show level violence Summary: Sick of killing innocents, first Sam and then Dean fled vampire society to pursue a life saving humans and hunting monsters. Now they find themselves on a case that threatens their new way of living, while trying to understand how to live and work together again. Art: Live Journal | Ao3 Story: Ao3

Blood Stained Ruby Lips Artist: bluefire986 Author: backrose_17 Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: King of Hell Dean, Demon Dean Winchester, Demon Blood Addict Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester Drinks Demon Blood From Dean Winchester, Top Dean, Bottom Sam Summary: Dean is having fun as a demon only one thing he will only serve one King of Hell and that is his Sammy and he begins forming a plan on how to make that happen. Sam, on the other hand is broken and lost without Dean and ends up turning to demon blood to find his brother's missing body. When Dean shows up at the bunker and after proving that he is still Dean only with a little twist he offers Sam his blood Sam can't say no and soon the Knight of Hell has his Boy King back. Art: Live Journal | Ao3 Story: Ao3

Two Hunters and A Baby Artist: tx_devilorangel Author: Vexed Wench Rating: PG Warnings/Spoilers: N/A Summary: Sam and Dean's night alone in the bunker is interrupted by Crowley needing an interesting favor. Art: Live Journal | Ao3 Story: Ao3

Caught in the Undertow Artist: stormbrite Author: blackrose_17 Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: AU after season 5, implied top!Dean, implied bottom!Sam and bullying. Summary: After the dealing with angels and demons, Sam and Dean are happy to get back to hunting monsters and Bobby sends them on the case of a group of missing teens and it doesn't take long for them to learn the teens missing are the school bullies and this might all be happening because someone wanting peace from them. Art: Live Journal | Ao3 Story: Ao3

To Be Yours Just Once Artist: tx_devilorangel Author: Vexed Wench Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Temporarily Female Sam Summary: Sam found an old spell that allowed him to have the one thing he wanted more than anything. Art: Ao3 Story: Ao3

The Real World Beneath the Dreaming Artist: loracine Author: gatorgurl94 Rating: PG Warnings/Spoilers: mild language Summary: Sam treads carefully. He’s been lectured enough about not being seen, about hiding in the shadows, about staying away from the winged creatures who cursed them to this existence. The creatures are the stuff of every Tussocks’ nightmare. They’re the reason Sam and his kind look the way they do, even if it’s not how they look to each other. The outside world can only see them as what the winged creatures cursed them to be: monsters. Art: Live Journal Story: Ao3

Let's Talk Artist: emmatheslayer Rating: G Warnings/Spoilers: N/A Summary: Jared is a veterinary and losses his favorite patient so he goes to therapist Jensen and falls in love as they have more sessions. Art: Live Journal

Good Pet Artist: Darklittleheart96 Author: Wearingdeantoprom Rating: R Warnings/Spoilers: N/A Summary: Sam is feeling the burden of being the King of Hell. Dean steps up to the plate to help ease the stress Art: Tumblr Story: Tumblr | Ao3

The King and the Exiled One Artist: bluefire986 Author: lux_tuli Rating: PG-13 Warnings/Spoilers: N/A Summary: Once a part of a happy, royal family, Dean is exiled from Lawrence after saving his half brother's life. He lives amongst a pack of wolves in the woods until one day something changes... Art: Live Journal Story: Dream Width

[samwinchestermarryme-blog]

The Party

Author: samwinchestermarryme

Pairing: Destiel

Genre: Birthday party, happiness, love

Fandom: Supernatural

Timeline: January 2017? I guess

Word Count: 2,146

Rating: PG-13

*****

Dean never really thought about his birthday every year until it started to get closer to it. He never wanted a party, nor did he expect one. And if he had to be honest, the thought of a birthday party made him sick. The planning, the constant attention, it was all so unnecessary. It was simply a day that he was born. He didn’t understand the big fuss. He also didn’t enjoy presents. People put so much pressure on themselves to get something the person liked and the person receiving the gift always had to pretend to like it if it wasn’t something they liked. The only good presents Dean usually got were from Sam, and maybe Cas. Sam would usually get him something like a Busty Asian Beauties magazine or some beer from a gas station near the bunker, but it was still as special every year.

Cas would usually get him pie, although it wasn’t even good pie. Dean liked every pie, but the brand that Cas bought just wasn’t good in any way. But he always looked so proud of himself and Dean just didn’t have the heart to ask him how he managed, every year, to get him his least favorite pie. Even in Dean’s head it sounded like something Cas probably didn’t want to hear.

They were the only ones who remembered Dean’s birthday, so the day usually started with opening the presents that were stuffed in a plastic bag. Dean would thank Sam for his magazines and Cas for the pie, and when Cas wasn’t looking, he would empty it in the bottom of the trash can, covering it in the bag from Sam’s gift. After, they would continue on with their normal activities, looking for cases for the next day because Sam would always say that Dean deserved a day off on his birthday.

But it was getting nearer to Dean’s birthday, and he had a feeling deep down that something was going to happen. They had found a case, and Sam had insisted that Dean go with Charlie instead of him and Cas, because according to Sam, he just needed to change it up a bit. Dean simply rolled his eyes and called Charlie asking if she wanted to go on a hunt. She seemed too fast to answer, but he ignored that and waited for her to get to the Bunker.

Sam and Cas seemed too antsy. Neither of them could sit still; Sam tapping his foot and Cas playing with his tie which was as always backwards, which made Dean smile, and always left him confused as to why he was smiling. Sometimes he would do little things that made Dean laugh or smile without him realizing.

No one talked either, which was even more odd. All that could be heard was the ticking of the clock against the wall. Sam and Cas shared a look and then broke off the stare, leaving Dean confused.

“Okay, whats going on, guys?” Deans eyebrows furrowed.

“Nothing,” Sam and Cas answered in unison, and again, too fast. They shared another look and Dean stared at them with confusion for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, but they were interrupted when Charlie knocked on the warded door. Dean grabbed his bag and waved goodbye to Sam and Cas, who both looked very happy, and made his way up the stairs to meet Charlie. He opened the door and said said hi to her while making his way to the Impala. While Charlie was on a rant about the new Harry Potter play, The Cursed Child, Dean shoved their stuff in the backseat where Cas usually sits, and Dean felt a quick flash of sadness before shoving it down and paying attention to her again. She was saying something about how she shipped Scorpius and Albus when Dean stopped paying attention and started thinking again about that backwards tie and that wrinkled trench coat.

*****

As soon as the door closed behind Dean, Sam jumped up and walked to the closet where bags and bags of stuff were shoved in the back.

“Sam, I’ve always wondered, why do humans get so excited about birthdays? Isn’t it just the day you exited your mother? It just doesn’t feel that special,” Cas wondered aloud as Sam grabbed the bags of party supplies.

“Cas, I really don’t know, but we are just going to go with it, because it’s Dean, and we all care very deeply for him. And don’t say you don’t, because I know you do.” Sam shoved a stack of cone shaped hats that said ‘Happy Birthday!’ in bright letters into Cas’s arms, walking away to start to set up various party foods and beverages that Cas didn’t think he would like to eat or drink if he still had to.

*****

Even before Dean opened the door to the bunker, he could tell something was up. The row of beat up cars that lined the street were a dead give away. He had been wondering about it for the past two days while Charlie and him were hunting down a massive nest of vamps, constantly thinking about the mischievous looks shared between his brother and best friend.

But what he wasn’t expecting was when he opened the heavy metal door, there was a full on birthday party waiting on the floor below him. Sam, Cas, Crowley, Rowena, Eileen, and so many more people were there, shouting happy birthdays at him. It was overwhelming, but it was nice. Dean did hate being at the center of attention, but this was different. He knew everyone there well enough that he wouldn’t have to deal with awkward family small-talk and hugs from people he didn’t even know the name of.

A genuine smile reached Dean’s eyes as he went to hug Sam to thank him for what he assumed he had planned. He looked over Sam’s shoulder to see Cas staring at him before awkwardly looking away. Sam whispered before he let go of Dean, “he helped plan it too.” Dean knew who he was talking about without hesitation and broke away from Sam’s embrace. He smiled at him before walking slowly over to Cas, who was filling a red cup with punch which was most likely spiked by this point.

“Cas,” Dean says, somehow scaring Cas, causing him to spill some of the drink on Dean’s shirt.

“Oh, Dean, I’m really sorry. Here, let me get you a napkin,” says Cas, turning away, but not before Dean can grab Cas and give him a hug (which he was not intending on doing, but he saw the opportunity and took it), making Cas’s white shirt instantly red too.

“Dean! This was my favorite shirt!” Cas shoves Dean off of him with a smile.

“You have like 20 of same shirts. Anyway, thanks for the party. I really appreciate it.” Dean thought he saw some emotion in Cas’s eyes, but it was gone soon enough. Cas put a hand on Dean’s shoulder, smiled that beautiful smile, said happy birthday,  and walked away.

 *****

 The party was the most fun Dean had had in awhile. There was tequila that he got slightly tipsy off of and there was music. So much music, mostly Led Zeppelin, Bon Jovi, and more classic rock that Dean couldn’t remember the names to. He caught Cas staring at him countless times throughout the party, and each time Cas would look away and blush. Since Dean was in that crowded bunker for who knows how long, he decided he needed some air.

He somehow ended up sitting in a pile of freezing snow on the hill by the bunker, looking at the full moon and stars. He heard the crunch of the shoes on the ice and snow and knew who it was before he sat down next to him. The smell of the familiar trench coat took over Dean’s senses and all he wanted to do was breathe in that smell for the rest of his life. They sat in silence, until Cas broke the quiet.

“Dean, what do you think your heaven would be like?.”

And maybe because it was the tequila, or maybe it was the smell of that god damned trench coat, but Dean said, “This is my heaven. Right here. With you. And maybe Sam.” A blush crept up Cas’s neck and up to his cheeks, but he cleared his throat and handed him a box. Dean looked at Cas, silently asking if he could open it. Cas nodded and watched as Dean’s shaking fingers pulled at the sloppily tied bow.

Inside the box was a gun, no,  the most beautiful gun Dean had ever seen. Its barrel shined in the moonlight and the wooden handle was carved with intricate designs that looked like it would take so many hours to do. Right at the bottom, almost too small to see, were the initials ‘SW’. Next to the gun in the box was a small pocket knife. Dean looked up to Cas with the biggest smile on his face. He carefully set the gun back into the box. He looked at Castiel, who was smiling so wide it was almost blinding.

“Cas, where did you get this? It must have cost a fortune.”

“Dean, please don’t worry about that. It’s your birthday. You’re my best friend,” Cas choked on the words ‘best friend’, but continued on. “And I would fight through hell again for you if it meant that you were here safe.”

Dean’s eyes were starting to fill with the smallest amount of tears, and so he leaned in and hugged Cas, bringing him closer. Small, fluffy snowflakes started to fall around them, one landing on Cas’s eyelash, melting with his body heat.

Dean could feel every touch through his leather jacket that Cas laid on his back, his neck, his hair, and he could only smell that stupid trench coat. Dean pulled back slightly, enough that he could see those shining eyes and those rose colored lips that belonged to the most beautiful angel. Cas glanced down at Dean’s lips and moved his hand to the back of his neck, bringing him closer. Their lips lightly brushed before Dean couldn’t take it any longer and crashed his lips onto his angel’s. As the kiss got deeper, they moved in sync, their breath coming as one and their lips exploring each other. Cas’s other hand made its way to his dirty blonde hair, gently tugging on the roots, earning a soft noise from Dean. Cas smiled against his lips, coming up for air, and immediately going back in, moving as close to Dean as physically possible.

He couldn’t stand the way Dean made him feel. It was like he was soaring through the air, breathing for the first time in so long, that feeling when you go over a hill on the road and you can feel your stomach drop. Dean made him feel all of these things all at once and it made him invincible. He could face the world with just one simple kiss from him. But he also made Cas want to pull out his hair from the teasing and he wanted to shout into the void his love for this human being and oh my Dad he was kissing Dean Winchester, something he had been waiting to do for ever since he laid a hand on him in Hell.

He could feel Dean’s heartbeat wild against his chest, his own heart at a dangerous rate as well. After what felt like hours, they pulled apart, heavily breathing, their swollen lips still millimeters from the others, both of them smiling like idiots.

“The gun,” Dean whispered against Cas’s lips, not wanting to move. “You should carve your initials.”

Dean reluctantly pulled away, but still left a hand in Cas’s, and reached behind him for the gun and knife. He quickly and carefully carved his initials into the gorgeous wood and then handed them to Cas. He looked at Dean, asking if he was really okay with it. Dean nodded with the biggest smile and watched as Cas carved a small ‘C’ into the handle. He handed it back to Dean, who set it carefully back into the box. He looked back up at the stars and sat down next to Cas, who wrapped a protective arm around his shoulders.

“Cas?”

“Yes?”

“I love you. And I’ve loved you for so long, I’ve just never realized it before now.”

Dean looked up at Cas through eyelashes covered in snowflakes. There was not shock, but love in Castiel’s eyes as he heard the words, and he said them back to Dean so calmly it was like they had been saying it for years.

“I love you, Dean.”

[imagine-the-feels]

No Turning Back

Request:  Ello, was hoping if you could do a request with the reader for Brandon Routh aka Ray Palmer to a song called in my head by Galantis

For: Anony

Word Count: 1256

A/N:  I’M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG ANONY! I’m actually very proud in the way this turned out, but if this wasn’t what you were looking for, tell me!

Song Here

Ray had it bad, everyone could tell.

They just couldn’t tell for who. 

It had started a while ago, when Ray was still pining for Kendra after their breakup. Lenny and Sarah had forced him to go outside of the Waverider and do something useful than staying in his room all the time until they had a mission.

He didn’t have a choice, since they locked him out of the ship as soon as they pushed him out, so he went wandering.

And that’s where he met you, robbing a museum exhibit.You were dressed weird for 2017, with what looked like steampunk goggles on top of your head, finger-less leather gloves that were bounded with plates of steel, and a large tan trench boat that stopped at the top of your black combat boots.

When you saw him, you smirked, grasping the artifact you just stole in your hands, a fragment of a yellow jasper face .

You strutted over to the mesmerized man, who couldn’t take his eyes off of you,  taking his lips into a sweet kiss with one hand on his cheek.

When you pulled back, you just winked at him, patting his chin lightly. “Baby,” you said, in a sultry but whiny tone that made him want to do anything you asked. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

He couldn’t register your words, but you shrugged, stepping back with a wide grin. “Doesn’t matter, we’ll make it work regardless.”

You walked away from him, Ray still frozen with his lips tingling as you lifted our hand and a blue vortex shot out of your glove. You were just about to step through before Ray stopped you. 

“Wait!”

You looked back curiously, and immediately he was at a loss for words again.

“How do I--what’s your--where are you--”

“Don’t worry Baby,” you smirked, blowing a kiss before placing the steampunk goggles on your face. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

From then on, Ray couldn’t get you out of his head.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the taste of your lips, the way your body molded against his own--it felt so right.

But...he didn’t even know you.

For a few weeks, he went on a few missions with the others, thinking that if he gave it some time he’d forget all about it. But you were so distracting he couldn’t help it.

Eventually Sarah noticed his love-struck phase, questioning him about it. 

“I don’t know,” he just breathed, looking so sad and lost that Sarah let it go.

The next time he sees you, you appear in his room in your googles, gloves, but a tank-top and a pair of shorts were the only clothes you sported. You looked frustrated, and were pouting to the point that you bottom lip poked out. You stomped over to where he laid on his bed, straddling him without any warning before laying your head on his chest. “Why are you so difficult?” You mumbled, snuggling in closer.

Ray felt a sigh of relief release in his body, and his world shifted on its axis just as it did last time. Without thinking he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.  “I’m sorry?” He replied, still having no idea what you were talking about.

You sighed, sitting up on him, looking down in sorrow. “You don’t even know me yet,” you observed, shaking your head and letting out a laugh that was accompanied by a few tears.

Immediately Ray sat up and wiped them away, cooing at you to stop crying until you eventually calmed down. When you did, you both were close enough to each other that you could see your reflection in his eyes.

You leaned forward, and to your surprise so did Ray as you both settled on a sweet kiss for a few minutes. When you both settled for some air, he looked ready to combust from euphoria.

“Who are you?” He whispered, his eyes still closed. “Why do you do this to me.”

You giggled, and his eyes opened quickly in awe at the sound. You leaned forward and brushed the bottom of his ear with your nose, hugging him tightly. “That’s a question I always ask you. But it’s nice to know you were just as whipped.”

You pulled back, fixing your clothes before opening up another vortex. 

“Oh, and you can call me (Y/N),” was the last thing you said before disappearing. 

You both continue the affair, at least once a week you visit Ray in his room at the same time so there’s never any surprise visits. You both just talk, get to know each other (or at least him getting to know you, because you know everything already), and you both makeout quite a bit.

You made him promise not to tell any of the other legends though, and because he knows for a fact that he can’t deny you anything, he agrees. You eventually give him one of your time-traveling gloves, so that if he wants you he can “call”. You make sure he knows not to step through yet though, he needs a pair of googles for that.

It’s been about 6 months since you both started seeing each other, and Ray couldn’t be happier. Until Rip calls them in for an emergency meeting.

“There’s been a distress call from citizens of the future, 4019,” he briefed quickly, as soon as everyone was gathered. 

“Is that even possible?” Kendra spoke up. “To send a distress signal back in time? Do they even know how?”

“They live in an age where time travel is as easy as stepping through the doorway,” Rip answered. “Their technological advances have made them accomplish an infinite amount of things, including bending time for a select few.”

“So what’s wrong?” Sarah asked.

“An Ancient Egyptian artifact that they’ve all thought had been destroyed resurfaced, and someone’s been using the object for mass destruction to control the minds of everyone in the era. Gideon, pull of the photo of the artifact please.”

Without any other provoking, a photo was projected in front of them all.

Ray tensed, his muscles coiling. Why did it look so familiar?

“This is the second half of a Statue of a Queen of Egypt’s face. No one ever knew the exact woman, because the second half of the statue was never found. In reality, it was sent to the future so no one could put the two halves together,” Rip explained. 

“What happens if they are?” Jackson asked. 

Dr. Stein took over, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “The myth is that the combined pieces would have a medusa-like effect on all who looked into the eyes, but instead of being turned to stone, they’re handing over their minds.”

“Precisely,” Rip cut him off. “I’ve done some digging prior and it seems the last place is was spotted at the Metropolitan Museum. It was stolen by an unknown person they could never find in the system.”

“So they had to be from the future,” Sarah concluded.

Ray stood, absorbing all this information. His mind put it together before his heart caught up, and when it did, he didn’t want to believe it. 

“Gideon, please pull up the video of the suspect.”

Ray could no longer deny the evidence, as a video clear as day popped up with someone he knew all too well breaking into the exhibit and stealing the other half of the Yellow Jasper Queen’s face.

It was you.

[sometimesalwaysmusic]

HOLLOW RIVER

Hollow River (HR) is the stage name of Mark MacDonald, an up-and-coming singer-songwriter. We discussed his experience working for a music studio, his writing inspirations and the influence of his formal education on his music. Keep an eye out for upcoming Ottawa gigs and give his latest tune, Falsetto, a spin!

VITALS

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/HollowRiverMusic/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/hollowriver/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/hollowriver

Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/mark-macdonald-music

Web: https://www.hollowriver.org/

Upcoming shows: Stay tuned!

SA: How did you get your start in music? HR: My parents got me my first guitar when I was 8, and it quickly became my greatest escape. From there I tried to get involved in anything I could related to music- I picked up the saxophone when I was 10, I would go to school early to be a part of the choir, start bands with friends. I can't imagine life without it.

SA: What bands would you cite as biggest influences on your sound? HR:  I would put John Mayer as my biggest influence. He was the one to show me that you could write songs with intricate guitar parts and words that actually mean something and still have people sing along. However, I also take a lot of influences from Pop Punk bands like Blink 182 or Marianas Trench.

SA: Thus far in your career, what has been your biggest success? HR: My biggest success to me was playing my first show in Ottawa. I wasn't even considering a serious release for my music, but decided to book a show and see what happened. It was a great surprise when tons of people showed and the venue hit capacity - it was the moment I realized I could actually make this happen.

SA: On the other hand, what is the biggest challenge you have faced, and how have you dealt with it? HR: Staying on a timeline- between wanting my own release to be a good as it can be to working with other talented artists as a recording engineer it easy to get back logged and push back my release to help someone get theirs out in time.

SA: How do you approach the song-writing process? HR: Songwriting is therapy- it always has been. I deal with a number of mental health issues including depression and insomnia, and as one gets worse it feeds into the other. So most of my bests songs come out when I'm at my lowest- I take all the overwhelming feelings and try to make something awesome instead.

SA: What are your thoughts on the Ottawa music scene? HR: Ottawa is my favourite place to play, the fans are engaged, enthusiastic, and always bring the energy. The city is big enough to breed some great talent, but small enough to support at the grassroots level. I think Ottawa will become a key music city in the next few years as the Canadian music scene as a whole gets more international attention.

SA: You went to the University of Ottawa for Creative Writing. Do you find your formal training in writing impacts your song-writing, or are they pretty distinct processes? HR: I think it had a huge impact with my approach like thinking of the speaker of a song or piece as a character. While I try to draw on feelings and emotions that are sincere, thinking about it like this allows me more creative freedom within the narrative of the song.

But I was also lucky from getting the chance to become friends with the other students from the class. We formed a writing group and we all still talk to this day. Having great creative minds that you trust to bounce off ideas helps you think about you work more critically and bring it to the next level.  It was actually one of my friends from that group that helped land on the name Hollow River.  

SA: If you could have any artist, dead or alive, collaborate with you on a Hollow River track, who would it be and why? HR: 100% John Mayer. The things I could learn about songwriting and guitar playing seems unfathomable.

SA: You've had experience in the music industry working at Grant Avenue Studio in Hamilton. What was that experience like and has it changed your approach to making music? HR: Yeah, I still work at Grant Avenue. I owe them everything, especially my mentor Amy King. There is a reason she's one of the most respected engineers in the Hamilton music scene. She's really helped me see music in much broader terms, progressing my technical skills as an engineer, producer, and songwriter while not forgetting the art and the magic of it. It's a fine line that she walks effortlessly.  

SA: What do you have in store throughout 2017? Best wishes for your continued successes, Mark! HR: I will be releasing my first EP this coming September, recorded at Grant Avenue Studio. Make sure to like my Facebook page to stay in the loop about the EP release party in Ottawa, as well as the release of the music video for Falsetto in the coming months. For now you can find Falsetto on iTunes, Apple Music, Spotify, and many more streaming platforms.