#my prediction is like book 2: scrolls

[rifter-pride]

so what are our notn apparel wishes

and what are our notn apparel predictions

[talaok]

A new lesson

Pairing: step-dad!Joel miller x step-daughter!reader

Summary: Your step-dad generously offers to give you another lesson. (this is part of a series but can be read alone)

Warnings: step-incest, manipulation, straight-out lying, hence dub-con, Perv!Joel, predatory behavior, very very naive and innocent reader |Smut| oral sex ( m receiving), face-fucking, dacryphilia, and daddy-kink. And please for the love of god read the warnings and just scroll if you don’t like what you see.

a/n: @thesummerpetrichor I believe we had an agreement…

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4

He'd been obsessively looking at those photos he'd taken of you yesterday every time he could.

It didn't matter if he was at work, or if his wife was right next to him, he needed to take a look at that pretty pussy of yours or he felt like he was gonna go crazy.

He'd always known that once he got a taste of it, it would never be enough, and yesterday just proved him right.

He was so lost in the picture on his screen that your mom's voice startled him.

"what have you been doing on there for 20 minutes?"

Shit

"nothing" he shrugged, quickly switching apps "Just work stuff"

"you sure?" she raised a brow, smiling "There's not another woman I should be worried about?" she joked

Only your daughter

"never" he forced a grin, leaning closer to her on the couch to kiss her.

"good" she nodded, patting his thigh "I'll go shower more serenely then"

He watched as she stood from the couch, and waited until he heard the water running before he quickly made his way to the only place he'd been wanting to go since he came home: your room.

His dick was already hard, so what better time for another lesson?

"Oh, hi daddy" you smiled at him as he closed the door behind him, noticing how he locked it.

You were sitting on your pink bed, resting your back against the headboard while you read a book. A big t-shirt draped over your body and some soft pajama shorts underneath it.

"hi sweetheart" he smirked

"do you need something?"

"no baby, but it's time for another lesson"

He watched you frown in confusion

"but mom's home... and you said you couldn't help me when mom was home"

"I know what I said" he nodded annoyed at your sudden need to ask questions "but I was feeling generous and I wanted to help you now." he explained "If you don't want my help anymore you can just say s-"

And just as he'd predicted, you interrupted him before he could even finish that sentence.

"No, of course I want your help daddy"

"good" he nodded "then come here"

You obliged immediately, setting your book to the side on the bed and standing up to walk over to him.

"take off your shirt" he said once you were right before him.

You did as told, observing his eyes fall to your naked tits, just for his hands to reach them, feeling them as his thumbs played with your perked nipples.

"you've got pretty tits sweetheart"

"t-thank you" you blushed, your eyes falling to where he was touching you.

"Today is gonna be different from last time" he explained softly 

"ok" you murmured

Oh how he loved how small your voice got every time

"get on your knees"

Once again, you obeyed.

He looked even bigger from down there, and you felt even smaller.

"now undo my belt and lower my pants"

You swallowed nervously, looking up at him

"go on" he urged

So you did. You took care of his belt, then of his zipper, and then as he said, you lowered his jeans, and they fell, pooling at his feet.

What was now in front of you, was the perfectly clear shape of his dick, hidden only by a pair of thin black boxers.

"take them off"

your fingers seeped through the waistband, and slowly, you took them off for him.

You still hadn't gotten used to it. He was just so big,

how did all of that even fit inside of me?

no wonder I'm sore.

"w-what do I do?" you asked, looking up at him with those innocent eyes of yours.

"spit on your hand, and then just like last time, wrap it around my cock"

You hesitated a moment, before bringing your hand to your lips and summoning some spit from your dry mouth.

You were so nervous your hand was almost shaking as it wrapped around him, and it might have had something to do with his expecting eyes looking down on you.

Your thumb didn't even reach the rest of your fingers, that's how fucking thick he was.

"up and down, like last time" he instructed, clearly getting impatient.

"l-like this?" you asked, gently stroking him.

"just like that baby" he breathed, his hips pushing forward a bit "Now use your mouth"

You tried to swallow some of the sand in your mouth, but all you could think of was how fucking huge he was and how he was never ever gonna fit, and how he was gonna be disappointed of you and-

"We don't have all day sweetie" he murmured 

"I-I'm sorry daddy, it's just that... I- I don't know if it's gonna fit"

He stifled a smile as he answered

"we're gonna make it fit sugar, don't you worry your pretty little head about it" he cooed, seeing some of the concern melt from your eyes "Now be good and suck my cock"

You nodded obediently, and just as he'd taught you last time, you widened your mouth and took him in, or better, you took his tip in.

"you can do better than that" he tilted his head, "go deeper"

So you did, you forced him more and more into your mouth until it was halfway in.

Your hands on his thighs balled into fists, and your face started to redden.

"breathe through your nose" he instructed, watching you do it "and hollow your cheeks for me, baby"

You did as told, and a loud breath fled his mouth.

"good girl" he whispered, making that weird feeling in your belly rise all over again.

"now- just like you did with your hand, go up and down"

Your mouth felt already incredibly full, but somehow, as you started bobbing your head, more and more of him started fitting inside of it.

"that's it" he groaned, his right hand moving some hair out of your face and fisting them in a makeshift bun at the back of your head.

You internally smiled at that, and you got so focused on trying to do even better that your eyes fell down to his groin.

"No look at me" he corrected you, using his leverage on your head to pull it back so your eyes were on his again "You look at me when you're sucking my cock"

You blinked in surprise, but before you could say anything he'd told you to "go on" and so of course, you did.

Up and down 

up and down

always fitting a tad more

"fuck" he murmured, trying to remind himself that he couldn't show you just how good you were making him feel, but fuck but that was a whole lot

Either he was an amazing teacher, or you were a natural. 

"A-am I doing good?" you asked, leaning away, while you tried to catch your breath.

"yeah baby" he breathed, seeing that need for reassurance in your iris

"really?" your eyes lighted up, as a huge smile spread on your lips

"yeah" he cut it short "but sweetie... less talking and more sucking"

"o-oh, right" You let out a soft laugh, slowly taking him back in, but before you could get back to your old rhythm, his hand at the back of your head, had pushed his cock all the way down your throat, making you gag and cough like a maniac.

Your eyes watered, and tears started flowing from your eyes as you looked up at him, confused and a little scared

But all you could see in his eyes was fun.

You looked so pretty choking on his cock...

"it's ok" he murmured, gripping your hair to guide your head up and down like he wanted, "just-" he forced you to gag on him again.

You looked up at him pleadingly as your hands tried to reach where he was holding your hair to try and get him to let go of you without succeding.

"fuck, that's good" he groaned, finally letting you go

You broke into a coughing fit, trying to get your lungs to work normally again, but he didn't even budge, actually, he was sadistically enjoying it.

"wh-why did you do that daddy?" you whimpered, sniffling

"oh baby" he murmured, "If you want Chad to make love to you you're gonna have to learn how to do that" he explained, stroking your wet cheek " Plus, I did it to prepare you for what we're gonna do next"

Your eyes widened slightly

"w-what are we gonna do?"

A grin pulled at his lips

"Now, darlin'," he spoke, "I'm gonna fuck that pretty throat of yours"

"Wha- I"

"shh" he shushed you, placing his thumb on your lips "it's ok" he calmed you down "Relax baby, I'm here, I'm only trying to help you"

"I know but-"

"But what?" he asked, frowning as he looked down at you.

"nothing" you immediately took it back.

"that's right" he nodded "Now open your mouth and stick your tongue out f'me"

And the moment you did... the moment you did, he realized he wasn't gonna last long

"You gotta stay like that ok, you don't wanna hurt daddy, do you?"

"uh-uh" you shook your head, your mouth still open 

"such a good girl" he smiled, before gently, (a gentleness that was gonna be forgotten in seconds) he placed a hand on the back of your head, and trusted his hips forward, making you gag softly.

"shit" he breathed, and then, as if he got possessed, he started going faster, and then faster, and then faster again until rivers were flowing from your eyes and the room filled with the filthy noise of your abused thoat.

"f-fuck" he groaned, forcing your head all the way down so that your nose was almost touching his crotch "Look at you... so fucking pretty like this"

You only had the time to remind yourself to breathe through your nose, and then he was already starting to push in and out of your mouth just like he'd done last time but down there.

You enjoyed seeing him breathe heavily and groan in pleasure because of you, so much so that your panties were drenched... but god it was hard to do as he asked.

"choking on my cock like a good little girl" he hissed, his hold on your head only tightening and his thrusts only fastening "Being so good f'me" he groaned "Always so good"

Your jaw was starting to hurt too much, and you just needed a little break, but the moment you tried to speak he stopped you.

"not now" he spoke, his voice hoarse and filled with pleasure "I'm about to cum baby" he explained, "you know what that means?"

You shook your head, eyes wider than ever.

"it means I'm gonna cum in your mouth" he breathed "and you're gonna swallow every single drop of what I give you," 

His chest was heaving, and you didn't think you'd ever seen him that blissed out

"but not until I say so, ok?"

"mh-mh" you hummed around his cock

"attagirl" he bit down his lower lips, trying to keep his grunts and groans down as much as he could "such a good, fucking, girl- fuck"

And looking down at you, ruined completely for him, he couldn't help but let go, filling your mouth up, until you were choking on the liquid and his cock combined.

He pulled out, his dick softening and his breathing calming down.

"show me" he ordered,

You widened your mouth even more and showed off its contents to him 

His hand grubbed your chin, tilting your head up more to him, as his fingers kept your mouth open.

His eyes were fully dark with lust as he grinned, stroking your bottom lip.

"Now swallow"

Your eyes never left his as you ingested his salty spent, and the moment you did, his dick threatened to harden again.

Fuck, he should have taken a picture

"good girl, now c'mere" he gestured, inviting you to stand up, which you gladly agreed to

Your knees were killing you.

He tucked himself back into his boxers and put on his pants again, while you stumbled to your feet.

"H-how did I do?" you asked, as he busied his thumb by caressing your pretty lips.

They were all puffy, just like his eyes, and the pleasure he got knowing that he was the reason for it, was unimaginable.

"you did good" he said, making you smile "But not that good" he cooed, lying through his teeth. he honestly didn't think he'd ever come that hard from just a blowjob, " If you want Chad to want to do this, you're gonna have to get better at it"

"o-oh"

"yeah" he winced, faux empathy tracing his tone "you really need some practice" he explained "so I think it's best if we do this once a day at least"

Your eyes widened in surprise

"Once a day?"

"at least" 

"y-you'd do that for me?"

"Of course baby" he smiled, before leaving a quick kiss on your lips "what kind of step dad would i be if i didn't help you?"

And at that, you couldn't help but hug him, intertwining your hands behind his neck.

"How are you feeling?" he murmured to your ear, kissing you neck, and forcing a whimper out of your mouth.

"M-my throat's a little sore"

He smirked, softly chuckling "That's normal sweetie, but what I meant was..." he explained, his right hand traveling lower on your body until he was cupping your clothed pussy "how are you feeling here?"

You moaned softly "I-I feel tingly, like last time"

"mhh, that's good" he hummed, inhaling your scent "that's real good sugar, but we don't have time for me to take care of you, so here's what we're gonna do" he said, leaning away, until you were eye to eye "I want you to take one of your pillows and hump it for me"

"h-hump it?"

"yeah sweetheart, hump it until come"

"I-I-"

"it's ok" he stroked your cheek "It's just me"

"Y-you right" You nodded

"that's my girl" he kissed you "and while you hump it real good, I want you to film yourself, and then send it to me ok?"

"why?" you frowned, a little bit confused

Again with the questions

"Because I need to know if you did it right"

Your mouth parted at that, as the realization hit you

He was just too nice

"of course" you smiled "thank you so much daddy"

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWO

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni, eddie is especially mean in this one (be warned), mentions of blood (in metaphors, not literal)

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

→ wc: 4k+

→ a/n: i just wanted to take a quick moment to say thank you for all the love on the first chapter of this!! i appreciate it beyond words <3

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

2:00 ─ㅇ───────────────── 24:00

HOUR TWO - 5:00 PM

It’s a miracle. Eddie is surprisingly quiet for the first hour after your small kitchen dispute. 

He resides reading a book on one end of his couch as you sit awkwardly on the other end, fiddling with your hands before finally caving and deciding to scroll mindlessly on your phone. You exhaust every social media app you have downloaded – Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr – before finally turning to Tik Tok. Adjusting your volume doesn’t even cross your mind. 

That’s all it takes to finally set Eddie off. 

It starts small; he shifts around after the first video, a prolonged sigh after the second video, a quick side-eye after the third video. Finally, after the fourth video and no sign of you turning down the volume, he huffs and snaps his book shut. 

“Do you have to watch that shit so loudly?” 

His tone is laden with utter annoyance. You’re caught off guard initially, having blatantly ignored his previous signs of being irritated by the noise, and your head whips up in his direction with wide eyes. The shocked look on your face quickly contorts when you catch his stare, full of hatred and vexation. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you scoff, “Let me just die of boredom I guess.” 

“I didn’t say you had to do that,” he narrows his gaze and matches your attitude with ease, “Just… solve the boredom quietly. Like I did.” 

“You were quiet because you had a book. I don’t have a book.” 

He waves an exasperated hand towards the coffee table where you catch sight of a few magazines, “Please, take your pick.”

You lock your phone reluctantly, tucking it beneath your thigh as you lean forward to glance over your options. There’s one about cars, obvious by the shiny vehicle that sits pretty on the cover, and a few hidden beneath it. You reach out and shift the laminated papers about and catch sight of a Rolling Stone cover. 

That one piques your interest, but stubborn as ever, you won’t admit it. 

“Those are the most boring fucking magazines I’ve ever seen. Who the hell likes to read about cars?” you deadpan, holding the car magazine up with a scowl. 

“Me.” 

“Predictable. What’s next, a Playboy?” 

“You’re hilarious,” he says without a hint of amusement, “Truly a comedian. Can’t you just see the tears streaming out of my eyes from how hard I’m laughing? Incredible.” 

You decide to not entertain him any further. Your hand grabs the Rolling Stone magazine, ignoring his burning gaze before you settle back into the couch. 

If he wanted to be a dick, that was fine. You were used to it by now; you’d spent the last year growing accustomed to his cold shoulders and his bitter moods around you. At this point, you expected nothing less from him. Spending a little extra time together didn’t magically change it – at both your cores, you harbored a disdain like no other. You fundamentally hated Eddie, and Eddie fundamentally hated you. The confined space, forced proximity, ticking doomsday clock, and promise of cash did nothing to put any notches in those feelings. 

“Interesting choice,” he murmurs under his breath, beginning to relax back into the cushions as well. 

“What? Is it a crime for me to like-” you pause, flipping the magazine shut to check the slick cover for what the specific issue was even about, “-The Ramones?” 

So maybe saying you liked The Ramones was an overstatement. But at this point, you’re only picking a fight for the sake of picking a fight. Because you don’t know how else to communicate with Eddie aside from with a sharp tongue and turbulent sense of sarcasm. Because when it came to the two of you, there was no such thing as small talk. 

Everything was always big. Loud. Screaming matches, bold assumptions, critical insults. 

“Pump the bitch breaks,” his eyebrows furrow, as they always do when he glances your way, “I was trying to be civil.” 

“I didn’t think civil was in your vocabulary when it came to me.” 

He exhales deeply, letting his head fall back in contempt for a moment before he lifts it and looks at you, “Is this really how you want it to be?” 

You don’t reply, and he takes it as his cue to continue. 

“Do you really want to keep up the miserable act the entire twenty four hours? Won’t it get exhausting acting like a spoiled brat for that long?”

“I’m not acting like a spoiled brat,” you snap, the magazine now discarded and draped across your knee, open to a random spread, “As far as I’m concerned, it’s not an act. Make no mistake, Munson, I am only doing this for the cash.” 

His book lays to gather dust on the coffee table as he leans his elbows onto his knees, twisting his body ever so slightly to face you more fully, “Really? There’s gotta be easier ways to make cash. I’m sure if you asked Stevie boy real nicely, he would have let you put that mouth to use for a quick buc-”

You cut him off, because you know how this sentence ends, and it’s too far. He’s crossed a line. You had expected it, should have seen it coming sooner, but it’s crossing a line all the same. 

“Stop,” you firmly instruct, holding up a finger, “Not that it’s any of your miserable business, but me and Steve are not like that. At all. So you can fuck right off with that comment,” you only pause briefly, and you’re glad when he doesn’t interrupt you, “And, may I remind you, you’re also getting payment out of this. I could say the same thing to you, dickwad.” 

It had been a curious itch beneath your skin – you knew why you needed the extra cash so badly, but you had no idea why Eddie did. Beneath all the hate, all the irritation, the question had come to mind briefly. But it had been pushed down by disinterest in all things regarding the man before you. At the end of the day, you didn’t care what motivated him. You didn’t care about what he did for work, you didn’t care about what magazines he read, and you definitely didn’t care to know if the five hundred was as necessary for him as it was for you. 

This was a means to an end – nothing more, nothing less. 

“Dickwad?” His nose crinkles as he parrots your words back to you, “Jesus, did you ever learn any new insults past middle school?” 

You’re ignoring him once more, picking the magazine up off of your knee and burying your nose in an article about the greatest punk albums of all time rather than letting yourself be dragged into further conversation with him, trying to send the message that this discussion was over. 

The message isn’t received. It flies right over his head. 

“Pardon me for the assumption,” you can see him hold his hands up in mock surrender in your peripherals, “You and Harrington just seem close.” 

You should just keep ignoring him. You should actually read the words inches from your face. You shouldn’t say another word; your gut is screaming at you to not say another word.

But you ignore your gut, just as he’d ignore your disinterest in talking to him. 

���What happened to being quiet? I think I liked it better when you weren’t speaking to me,” you try to say casually, keeping an air of indifference. You should have known better. As your mother always said, once you start feeding a stray, they continue to come back. 

“Sounds like it’s a sore spot. Are you and Harrington that close?” 

“Not in that way,” you grit out behind the pages, “We’re close, but not like that.” 

Your answer doesn’t satisfy him like you’d hoped, “Oh, it is so a sore spot.” 

When you finally drop the magazine to properly look at him again, it only fans the anger. He looks smug as he crosses his ankle atop his knee, leaning back and looking you over as if he can read you like cellophane. 

“It’s not,” you stress, “Seriously. Drop it.” 

In all truthfulness, it wasn’t a sore spot – not when it came to Steve. You’d always been strictly platonic, fitting fairly effortlessly into his and Robin’s friendship. 

“You definitely want to fuck Steve.” 

“You know what I actually want right now?”

“Please, enlighten me.”

“To knock your teeth in.” 

The magazine is tossed back onto the table, nearly sliding off the edge from the force behind your throw. He’s relishing the way you’re continuing to get more upset, the way he’s still inching beneath your skin in a grating motion. To him, this is all just a joke. 

“I’d love to see you try, sweetheart,” he mocks, smiling with his teeth as if to taunt you. 

“Why did you even agree to this?” you finally turn your body towards his and mirror his position, “Is it fun to you? Is that what it is?” 

The smile widens, “You know what? Yeah. It is fun to piss you off.” 

“Yeah?” you imitate him, putting on a forced smile in an attempt to look as ridiculous as he did right now. You fold your hands and prop your elbows onto your knees, continuing to mock mercilessly as you balance your chin atop them and bat your lashes dramatically, “Please, tell me more. Tell me all about how fun it is.” 

In an instant, you drop the smile and begin to return to your previous position. It was rhetorical – you don’t expect a response, and yet he offers one nonetheless. 

“Well,” he begins, “First of all, the way you go red in the face is fucking hilarious. Seriously, it’s just like the cartoons. Absolutely ridiculous. I think by the end of this, I’ll get to see steam come out of your ears,” you’re already reaching for your phone, tuning him out, as he continues on, “And then it’s the way you’re just so damn easy. I mean, come on. Sometimes, all I have to do is breathe, and it sends you on a tirade. You just make it too simple, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. The nickname is prickly and as uncomfortable as ever, lodging into your ears against your better judgment. It creeps across your brain, travels down your spine, numbs your fingertips. You hate the shockwaves it’s capable of sending down your nerves. 

He’s right, at the end of the day. These days, you hardly put up a fight in expressing all your negative emotions towards him. If necessary, you could pinpoint a time where he really did simply breathe and you had proceeded to curse him out for it. Sometimes, just the sight of him can sour your entire mood. He’s an ever-present, persistent, irritating rain-cloud that looms on the edges of your life by circumstance. You can’t get rid of him. You can’t get rid of your hatred for him; you’ve always had a preference for sunny weather. 

“Careful,” you hum, not looking his way as you glance down at the time that glows from your lock screen: 5:46 PM. “It almost sounds like you enjoy my presence, Munson.” 

Indifference. You needed to practice indifference to survive the next twenty three hours. 

“Oh, that couldn’t be farther from the truth,” he says, “You are the worst part of my days. You’re like bad leftovers – everytime I see you, the bile immediately rises in my throat. Whenever Steve mentions you’ll be somewhere, I cancel plans. Whenever you show up without warning, I start counting down the minutes till I can get away from you.” 

The indifference begins to break. You finally look at him, keeping a steady expression. 

“You could go missing, you could vanish off the face of this earth, and I wouldn't blink an eye. As a matter of fact, I’d probably celebrate. Why my friends are so enamored with you, I will never understand.” 

It hurts. It might be Eddie, and you might be used to his spiteful words he uses as weapons against you, but it still hurts. The sting resembles a slap as you process each of his words. Each deliberate syllable – the specific referencing to the group as his friends and not your friends, the unblinking glare of his dark eyes, the insinuation that your death could bring him joy – drives deeper into your chest. It’s a human reaction; it doesn’t matter if the boy before you is the enemy, it still bruises to hear anyone say such things about you. The human need to be accepted, to be liked, to at least be tolerated, still twists in your gut. 

And he only presses forth. He doesn’t catch the pain spreading in your limbs because you don’t let the hurt raging in your chest spread across your face. You don’t let him see you bleed. 

“I’d attend your funeral with a party hat and sparklers. Confetti, even. The whole nine yards along with my finest bottle of champagne,” he hammers the final nail into a coffin, one that you’re not sure of whom it belongs to. Maybe it’s yours, sealing you six feet under with your cursed emotions. Maybe it’s his, locking him into the tomb to dwell in his ability to always take things too far. 

You won’t let him see you bleed.

You stand abruptly, making him flinch in the slightest. You keep your face turned from him as you take your phone and storm off into the hallway wordlessly. 

“Hey! Where are you going?” he calls after you. 

But he’s not following you. No footsteps echo your own as you turn into the only other doorway aside from the bathroom. 

He has a clear line of sight of you from the couch, and he can see you disappear into his room. 

The door slams shut behind you with a riveting bang. Your nimble fingertips fumble with twisting the lock into place, chest heaving as you finally let your eyes burn. 

He can’t see you. You finally bleed. 

The tears are feverish as they roll down your cheeks one by one, taking slow steps backward as you squeeze them shut and will them away. There are no accompanying whimpers, or sobs, or hiccups. It’s just you, the salty streams, and the now overwhelming scent of him.

He’s only managed to make you cry, make you bleed this way, once before. The night of Steve’s party, the night you had attempted to make him bleed in retaliation. You’d harbored the need to cut him open desperately that night, to crack open his chest and assure yourself he could bleed the same scarlet as you, that there was still a weathered heart behind his calloused ribs that could beat the same as yours. 

But you never did. At the end of that night, you had been the only one left bloodied and bandaged, aside from Steve’s glass as collateral damage. He remained unscathed.

The door knob shakes suddenly, and your eyes flash back open. Another shake, and you hear him huffing. 

“Seriously? Did you just lock me out of my own room?” His voice comes from the other side of the door. 

The bleeding stops. The wound seals. Even if he can’t see you through the door, just to know that his presence resides on the other side of it is enough to put an end to your trembling breaths. 

“Fuck off,” you call out hoarsely. 

“Let me in. It’s my room.” 

“No.”

He sighs, and a thump sounds that you assume is his forehead falling against the wood in defeat, “Why do you insist on acting like a child?” 

“You’re the one with a collection of action figures!” you fight back with your weakest insult of the night. He twists the doorknob without fruition a few more times, a couple sharp knocks sound as you turn to get a better look at the room you’d run into without observation. 

It’s nothing extravagant, which makes sense. He has an entire apartment to spill his wretched personality across, which means there’s no need to condense it into the decor of his bedroom. He doesn’t have to express himself in a limited space as you do with your dorm. There’s a few posters of various bands hung crookedly on the wall, a dresser with a few of the drawers half open with assortments of clothes peeking out before they overflow onto the carpeted flooring, and a bed left unmade. His jersey sheets are plaid, worn and clearly well-loved. Despite the expected mess trailing about the rest of the floor, the space beside the bed is left cleared, and you decide to settle yourself down onto the patch. 

Your phone buzzes in your tight fist as your back settles up against the side of the bed. 

“Unlock the door,” his voice persists impatiently again. 

“Go to Hell.”

“I’m already there. Stuck with you.” 

Maybe the wound isn’t quite sealed, because the words fall like salt into your chest. 

“Why my friends are so enamored with you, I will never understand.” 

There’s more to say, but the chiming of a phone cuts off your thoughts. You glance down to your cell phone – not yours. 

The ringing is more muted, behind the door. With Eddie.

It’s Eddie’s phone. 

You’re about to call out a snarky remark about him getting that, but the ringing cuts off before you have the chance. It’s clear he’s walked away from the door as the echoes of his voice fades, the conversation inaudible to you through the walls. 

Your fingers dig into the carpet beside your thighs as you pull at individual strands that stick out, finally discarding your phone on the opposite side. Eventually, your touch trails closer to the edge of the bed, plucking, plucking, plucking until you collide with laminated paper sticking out from beneath the bed. 

What’s this? 

Just as you’re about to pull what you assume is a magazine from beneath the bed, your phone begins to buzz violently, this time the ringtone being your own. 

The screen lights up with Steve’s contact photo. It can’t be good.

“Hello?” you answer once you pick the phone up after a few moments of pause. 

“You can’t lock him out of his own room.”

“Oh, hey, Steve. I’m great, thanks for asking. Really living the drea-”

“You can’t lock him out of his own room,” Steve repeats with more emphasis, disregarding your sarcastic tone completely. 

You stare across the room at an acoustic guitar resting on a stand. This machine slays dragons, it reads in bold, white lettering. 

“So you were the one who called him,” you mumble. 

Steve sighs over the line, “No. Nance called him, because you haven’t sent the proof to the chat yet. We were trying to give you guys a grace period, but-”

“But you assumed we’d already murdered each other,” you finish his sentence. 

“Can you blame us? What did he even say to make you board yourself up in his room?” 

You scoff softly, “He didn’t tell Nancy?” 

The moment Steve mentioned Nancy was the one calling Eddie, you’d simply assumed he’d filled her in. 

Before you’d weaseled your way into the friend group, there had been clear, strong bonds already set in place: Robin & Steve, Jonathan & Argyle, and Nancy & Eddie. Three sets of best friends who all wove together to form their large friend group with ease.

You were the odd man out. They never treated you as such, except for Eddie, but it was an insecurity that could eat you alive if you ever gave it the time of day. And maybe that was why Eddie’s earlier words had cut so deeply. He was voicing a fear you always tried to bury deep down. 

“No,” Steve says as if it were obvious, “He just started going off about how you had locked him out of his room amongst…. Um, amongst other things.” 

Other things. You could guess what those other things had been; no doubt, he’d spent his time on the phone bitching about you. He’d probably called you every crude name in his rolodex of hatefulness. 

“Right,” you drawl, eyes flickering around the room to seek out another distraction to mindlessly stare at. Suddenly, you remember the magazine you had discovered just as Steve called, “Well, nothing surprising. The usual, really. Just how he hates my guts, he finds me annoying, he wouldn’t care if I died-” 

“-What?” 

You ignore Steve’s gasp of disbelief and carry on, “-All the classic insults you would say to your arch nemesis.” 

Steve says your name softly, still carrying an air of shock, “He didn’t mean that. I- Listen, he’s an asshole sometimes, but I guarantee he would care-”

“Who cares?” you interrupt, “I don’t blame him. It’s fine. He doesn’t have to care if I meet my untimely demise. I kind of figured he was going to murder me anyways, remember?”

“Yeah, but that was… that was joking around, he…” Steve trails off, because you both know he’s full of shit. 

There was no joking around between you and Eddie. A painful truth, considering when you first joined the friend group, you had such high hopes of getting along with him. 

“It’s whatever. Do you still need me to send proof?” you ask, fingers now playing with the crumpled edges of the magazine. Even half-hidden, you could see there were pages that had been dog-eared. 

You almost don’t hear Steve as he tells you that it’s fine, that now they know the two of you are definitely together. It’s already nearly time for the next check in anyways. 

“Alright, in that case…” your tongue peaks out as you begin to tug the magazine out of hiding. The moment the magazine's title comes into sight, you gasp, frozen as the phone nearly slips out of your hand.

Fucking jackpot.

“You good?” Steve asks. 

Playboy. A goddamn Playboy magazine. 

“Never better,” you rush out, eager to hang up so you can utilize this ammunition against Eddie, “Talk later, Steve-O.” 

You don’t give him a chance to echo a goodbye before you hang up, tossing your phone off to the side with a muted thump. Your focus is entirely on the magazine before you, crinkling as you hold it in your hands and bite back laughter. 

Against your better judgment, you open the cover, mouth falling open as you flip through page after page of nude women and cigarette ads. Some pages stick together, and you don’t dare to peel them apart, cringing at the thought of just why they’re sticky. You come to the first page that had been dog-earred, and your jaw clicks as your mouth falls agape. 

Fucking pervert. He’s a goddamn pervert. 

A well-timed knock sounds at the door once more, Eddie’s knuckles sharp in their three strikes, “Can you let me in now?” 

It’s the closest to a please you’re going to get. 

“Sorry, busy!” you call out in response, still staring at the spread.

The nude woman eerily resembles you. Same hair, same skin tone, similar noses. The Universe has dropped the most loving of gifts in your laps in the form of this magazine, something you know you can use to get under Eddie’s skin as severely as he had done to you. 

“Busy?” he protests, knocking on the door again before you hear the shaking of the doorknob again, “What the fuck are you doing in there? I told you, don’t touch my shit.”

You bite your lip, smile curling the corners of your mouth as you finally stand from the floor, knees cracking as you keep the magazine open to the photo. Eddie has gone scarily quiet, and you can’t even make out his breathing. His shadow has stilled completely as it peaks in from under the doorway. 

He’s never living this down. 

You’re still grinning with ill-intent as you shout, “Wow. Who knew I was right about the Playboy?”

Those words are all it takes for the frantic pounding on the door to begin.

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @amira0303 @blushingquincy @imtryingahh @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @liv0679 @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @eddiemunxson @ohmeg @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @whosbettysstuff

(if your name is crossed out like so, it means i am unable to tag you)

taglist is now closed. &lt;3

[crowleysgirl56]

Wildest dreams wishes for Good Omens Season 3 which will probably not come true but I can still hope hey!

Number 36.

I think it’s safe to say that in order to prevent the end of the world in season 3, Crowley and Aziraphale are going to perform one great big giant miracle (one that is certainly not a tiny insignificant half miracle), together, so big it’ll probably blow out the Lazari chart. But what miracle exactly would that be, and more importantly how will it be performed? Then it struck me. Crowley’s crank shaft.

He used it to kickstart the Pillars of Creation. It then became the last remaining piece of the Bentley in season 1, which he held in one hand, and Adam’s hand on the other, in defiance against Satan. You can’t tell me it won’t play another significant role in season 3.

My vision/prediction/absolutely wild hope is that as the world is falling apart around them, the destruction is coming from the book of life. It lies open with complicated and glowing gear like symbols pouring out of it, whilst the earth crumbles and burns. Aziraphale realises that to reverse what’s happening they have to turn the celestial gears back. But how can they possibly do that?! Crowley will then pull the crank shaft from the inside of his jacket, and slam it into the middle of the book, just like he did with the scroll in the beginning of episode 1 in season 2 (see above gif). He and Aziraphale will place their hands on the crank and then together, will turn it backwards until all the destruction is reversed.

I will eventually write a proper ficlet of this scene, but was so excited I needed to get the idea out there now.

Tell me what you think? Do you think the crank shaft will appear again? And do you like the idea of Crowley and Aziraphale using it together?

[beansprean]

Queening the Pawn Act 3 Part 7

Back to Nandor… Crew cameo! Wives cameo!! Jahan cameo!!!

Acts 1-2

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Waist up of Nandor sitting on the couch in the library, continuing the talking head from part 1. The camera is now shooting from the side, and behind him you can see the right half of the bay window; a side table with a lit lamp, abandoned book, candle, butterfly display, and a small brass horse statue; a bucket of loose scrolls, and a wide gold mirror. The camera crew are reflected: a brown man with floppy bags and a sparse mustache is in the front, aiming the camera with one eye in the viewfinder; behind him is a large older Samoan man with a white beard ducking in front of a light reflector and pulling up cords; behind him is a white woman with long blonde hair in a ponytail, presumably the director, wearing a headset and holding up an iPad that she is writing on; behind her is a bored-looking Latine sound technician with long messy brown hair holding up the boom mic. Nandor is looking pensively away from the camera, brow furrowed and cheeks lightly flushed, fiddling his hands together in his lap. He says, “I was very confused by Guillermo’s conclusion. Which is obviously an unusual feeling for me, as he is normally so predictable.” 1b. Close up on Nandor at the same angle as he whips his head toward the camera, wide eyed and incredulous. He shouts, “Fuck that guy for making me feel confused!” 1c. Repeat. Nandor calms slightly and looks away again, flustered, hands curling into fists to press uncertainly against his chest. He spits sardonically, “Like I don’t know what love is supposed to feel like…”

2a. Flashback in sepa tones on a mottled brown background. Waist up shots of several of Nandor’s wives in a line, dressed in their 13th century finery and chatting happily together. One is clearly Marwa; there is also an older woman with short hair tucked beneath a scarf, a younger woman with freckles and long reddish hair, a fat man with a beard and long curly hair playing a barbat, a young person with a Roman nose, a man with a very fun handlebar mustache, and a person with long dark hair with their back to the viewer. Nandor’s dialogue continues from the present: “I loved many of my wives, but I did not want them around all the time. Or even most of the time. They were appealing primarily because they allowed me to do whatever I pleased and did not bother me unless I asked for them.” 2b. Zoom out to full body as the flashback continues. The group of wives, now including a young woman with a mole on her cheek and a young bearded man with three, are on the right, engaged with each other and mostly ignoring human Nandor and Jahan as they pass by. Human Nandor and Jahan are dressed respectively in the blue and silver armor and bejeweled tack they wear in their portrait together. Nandor has one hand on Jahan’s saddle and the other on his sword as they both trot excitedly across the frame, Nandor sporting a large open-mouthed smile and Jahan holding his tail high and ears pricked forward, uncaring of the wives left behind. The only wife to make a fuss is the younger woman with the mole, who has her skirts gathered up and is glaring at Nandor’s back as if readying herself to stomp after him. Marwa stops her with a hand on her arm, expression compassionate but sad. The older wives know better than to expect much attention from their husband. Present Nandor’s dialogue continues: “The one I preferred to spend all of my time with was my dear horse, John.” 2c. Shoulders up of present Nandor in front of the flashback in 2b. Pausing his narration, he looks down at his lap and bites lip softly, a contemplative line appearing between his brows. His speech bubble holds only an ellipses. /end ID

[elrieldreamer]

Her final ACOSF thoughts:

1. Her first comment - “When does the next book come out?” Oh, my dear. That is the question.

2. Feyre not knowing about the dangers of the pregnancy started a great back and forth conversation between us. She is more understanding of Rhys’s motives in protecting Feyre’s emotional well being by hiding the danger than I am.

3. “Of course the boys had to play with the Made weapons the moment Amren walked away. I knew that was happening as soon as that the warning came out of her mouth.” 😂😂

4. She identified heavily with the hike. She’s a long distance runner, and physical activity plays a huge part in her emotional health. She talked about a several day hike she went on in Colorado with a group last summer and how it broke her before it built her back up. She pointed out that both Cassian AND Nesta had an emotional journey to work through heading up the mountain, which I hadn’t really considered before. It helped me feel less frustrated with Cassian’s behavior.

5. She had predicted that the girls would somehow take part in the Blood Rite, so she wasn’t surprised about that. She wants to know more about Balthazar (after our chat I sent her the incredible theory by Wingedblooms that Elain could be Balthazar, which later sent us down a whole new rabbit hole), and said that he was her favorite part of the whole BR portion. She once again noted that Gwyn was suspicious, and reinforced how she lured the beast. She’s feeling very confident that something is going on with Gwyn. She still wants to know more about Emerie.

6. “Why is Koschei preparing for Azriel? After Solstice, Azriel just needed a break. LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

7. She felt like the portion with Briallyn happened too quickly. She said that was a big letdown because she felt like Nesta and Cassian didn’t get a big, dramatic arc defeating the “bad guy”. We discussed how Nesta’s mental health might have been the “big bad” in the book, but we still felt like this scene needed MORE.

8. She was glad that it was Nesta who saved Feyre during Nyx’s birth, for both of them. And Elain, too. She said that she got really emotional when Rhys was breaking down, even though she knew that Nyx and Feyre would survive (she had been spoiled with a picture of Nyx). The scene left her with a lot of curiosity about The Mother, and she was glad that Nesta still had at least a little power.

9. “I think Nesta is going to have a baby in the next book. Man, she’s going to be an interesting mother.” 😂

10. We wrapped up the chat with a bunch of theory talk for Elriel’s book, lore discussion based on the sum of the series, and I sent her a bunch of fanfic links (scrolling through my saved works list was sobering, realizing how many were so smutty that I wouldn’t share with her😎). She restarted two days ago with ACOTAR because she wants to annotate on the kindle (she’s a prolific note taker), and is rewarding herself by alternating ACOTAR with a couple chapters of What Bloomed in the Darkgarden.

11. Final thought? “My birthday is next month. Can you get me my own physical copies?”

[jolieblack]

Jolie’s thoughts on Silver Blaze (Sherlock & Co. podcast) Parts 1 & 2

… because I can already tell that this will get too long if I wait for parts 3 & 4 to drop…

I know Joel has said in several places that this case is his favourite ACD story, so expectations are high… and not being disappointed so far!

I already loved this one at 3 minutes in, with the opening montage of part 1 being totally over the top, mega blockbuster crime of the century style, and then the next thing we get is Sherlock practising the clippity-clop thing and looking for a new home for 327 ants.

Sherlock being a train geek (of course he is) and going on about the ghost trains just after John went on about the creepy Dartmoor legends got me, too. In my book, Silver Blaze has never had a gothic horror vibe to it, but it may well have now! Let’s see how that aspect will develop.

Other details I loved:

John‘s mum: "He‘s a very sensitive boy and you need to respect that." - "He’s not a boy, he’s a man… who plays with ants."

John and Mariana pushing Sherlock into the case by threatening him with a party, and John being a gleefully cackling little bugger about it when it works.

"Just trying to understand how your brain works." - "Yeah, you and me both, mate."

Sherlock giving us a whole paragraph straight out of ACD (the "plethora" bit) - I love how well it always works in contrast with how everyone else in this universe talks.

The dodgy SD card, which - I hereby predict - will turn out to be more than a comedy element as the case progresses.

Sherlock deducing the entry code for the cottage, we love to see that kind of stuff, don’t we.

"We’ve got a horse to find. Giddy up."- Love it when Sherlock speaks ordinary colloquial modern English like a foreign language.

"You are a child, a giant crime-solving child!" - Sherlock Holmes in a nutshell.

"I’ve done the washing up - he said, pausing for a thank you - " - "Thank you."

Oh and scrolling on our phone to the point of existential crisis till we pass out is so how we all fall asleep these days, isn’t it. Jonk Watson, the true Everyman for the 21st century.

And then we get feeeeels, too!

Starting with "Talk to me, John." - 🥹🥹🥹 The incredible intimacy of that little moment. Also, another 'John', seemingly out of nowhere - is this Sherlock being incredibly finely attuned to the moments where John's war trauma may re-emerge, such as in this scene where they’re viewing a very badly injured body, ready to step in with whatever emotional support may be needed? If so, our boy has come a long way already since the first sweet but clumsy "Would you like to hold hands and talk about your emotions?" when they were viewing the body in Thor Bridge and I’M HERE FOR IT.

And what was that shower scene??? Things getting very much *less weird* for Sherlock while he stares at his dear companion in the shower (who presumably doesn’t shower fully or even half dressed) and imagines what life would be without him? If this show was heading in an unequivocal Johnlock direction, I‘d say this was an awakening. As it is, I don’t believe for a second that Sherlock was high. He just wanted reassurance that John would stay in the picture forever, whatever exactly you like to imagine the picture to be. 😭

More lovely details:

"Cinderella will go to the ball" - "You stop being so bloody clever, and I will stop with the compliments." And literally two minutes later it’s "I'm not asking you to be comfortable, I’m asking you to help me solve the case!" and John being Sherlock’s literal beast of burden so Sherlock can look over a wall that even little John Watson climbs without any assistance only a minute later.

Sherlock Holmes telling John Watson to get on his knees as if this isn’t the moment the Sherlock Holmes fandom has been waiting for for over 140 years.

Sherlock being gentle and friendly with the horse!

And to wrap up, a few thoughts on the case aspect:

[Warning: Contains spoilers for the original ACD story and may therefore contain spoilers for this version, too!]

*

*

*

*

*

The limping sheep in part 1 had me going 👀 already, and now the cataract knife has made its appearance, I really don’t expect a lot of surprises when we get to the denouement, and I'm assuming that the fact that there is an imprint of the letter S from the walking stick on the head of the murder victim just means that there was a violent confrontation quite some time before June actually died. Why else would Sherlock agree with Inspector Gregory that the imprint is there, but also with John that those extensive and massive injuries could not have been caused by a single blow with a stick? Nope, not sensing any dramatic plot twists compared to the original version this time. Let’s see if I was right!

[arazialotis]

Get Him to the Con - Part 7

Pairing: Jensen × Reader

Word Count: About 6000

Summary: The reader stumbles into Jensen at her favorite bar, a very drunk Jensen. She soon realizes Jensen was booked for a con this weekend and has to be eight hours from town in only two.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Warnings: Language

Although this is an RPF, it is a character I created and should not reflect back IRL. I intend no hate or ill wishes to him or his family. This is purely just for writing and wasting my time as coping skill. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

*** Saturday ***

“Hey man,” Jared greeted Jensen, clasping hands and pulling him in for a half hug. “Glad to see you’re still alive. How was it?”

The entirety of the trip was still catching up to him. He was tired, from being in constant motion for three days straight to sleeping on crappy motel mattresses. But it was more than that. He had made it blatantly clear how he felt for you and still held no inclination on your stance. That wasn’t true; if you had any affection, it would have been reciprocated. Sure, there was the flirtatious banter and the natural ease in each other’s presence, but twice he had laid it all on the line only to be met back with a block of ice. And that last one… Hell, it had been magical. Sparks flying, gravity-defying. But your response confused the hell out of him. He’d been misinterpreting signals and your friendship the entire time. And god, he was such an idiot. He practically forced it upon you. If you felt uncomfortable or violated, his reputation would be in shambles, as he knew it should be.

“It was fine.” He grumbled. There was no need to get into all this with Jared, for the fact alone he would gloat about being right for months on end.

Jared did not let his relief show. Maybe Jensen was finally coming back to his senses. He feigned empathy instead.

“Just fine?” He asked.

No, it wasn’t just fine; it was amazing. You were amazing, and perfect, and hilarious. And he fucked it up just like he predicted.

“Yeah,” Jensen responded curtly.

“So, no Y/N then?” Jared pressed, a little confused by Jensen’s abruptness. “I thought she’d be here.”

Yeah, you and me both, pal. “Nah, she knew we’d be busy all weekend and wanted to hike the mountains instead. I don’t blame her. I’d rather be doing that myself too.”

“Are you okay?” Jared persisted.

“Yeah.” Jensen squeaked. “Let me get cleaned up. Then we can scout out some dinner before the craziness starts.”

Jensen left Jared in the hotel lobby. Jared sighed, unsettled. Something was clearly bothering Jensen, but getting him to open up would be hard. All Jared knew is it was centered around you. Ultimately, if the road trip didn’t go as planned or wasn’t everything Jensen had dreamed up, it was for the best. Sure, Jensen was down now, and it hurt to see him this way, but hopefully, this would help him move on and snap out of these unrealistic fantasies.

Jensen didn’t sleep well that night. The mattress was too plush, the sheets too silky, and the space beside him was too cold. He’d been informed that a few videos of the kiss had been circling some fan accounts and to expect questions about it at the panels. Followed by a scolding lecture on how to respond. He knew the expected response but wondered what he would say if he hadn’t been coached. It didn’t settle right with him. Maybe he’d get up early and call you in the morning. Just rip the bandaid off and ask what you wanted him to say. He tossed and then tossed again—the sheets tangling around his calves. He reached for his phone, the light momentarily blinding him. His heart raced as he scrolled through Instagram. It was easy enough to find. Replaying it, he could still imagine your lips against his, the back of your neck in his grasp, the fabric of his shirt straining as you pulled against it. It was a very good kiss. That is when your text came through.

‘Thanks again for an amazing trip! If you’re looking for a buddy on your next road trip, let me know. And don’t worry, the ghosts here are all bark, though I can’t say the same for those in room 217.’

He didn’t think his heart could drop further, but it did. There was no second-guessing it this time. The word repeated in his mind. Buddy. He had officially and unequivocally been friend-zoned.

*** Sunday Afternoon ***

If AllTrails had been tracking your time, they would have sent you a medal for the record time in which you descended that mountain. Even paying no heed to the speed limit, you couldn’t make it to Denver until mid-afternoon. You called Jensen twice, hoping to explain that you were on your way and wanted to talk, hoping he could spare a few minutes of his day. If you held these pent-up emotions in your chest any longer, you would explode. On the third attempt, you hung up early, logically knowing he was predisposed.

“Come on, come on, come on,” You chanted through the city streets, the consistent string of red lights taunting you.

The wheels of the rental car screeched as you pulled into the parking lot with a little too much tenacity. Upon exiting, you backtracked, realizing you had left the vehicle running. You ran through the hotel lobby to the adjoining convention center. The hall was filled with fans and staff alike, all eagerly waiting for the next event. Booths were filled to the brim with Supernatural merchandise, shirts, photos, and trinkets. Cosplayers caught your eye, Castiels and a human version of Baby. It was overwhelming and distracting from your overall mission to find him.

You pulled open large double doors leading to the main ballroom.

“Ma’am.” Someone called, and it took you a moment to realize they were speaking to you. “Ma’am. You need a wristband to enter here.”

Security personnel dressed in black pants and a yellow shirt with a conspicuous earpiece halted your progress further into the room.

“A wristband?” You questioned.

“Yes, you have to check in outside. Exchange your ticket for a wristband.” They explained.

“I don’t have a ticket.”

“You’ll have to buy one to enter.” Their patience drawing thin, tired of a weekend of over-explaining processes.

“Okay,” You held up your hands in defense. “Okay, where can I buy one?” You started to back away, signaling you wouldn’t be a problem.

You followed the directions back through the hall’s entrance to a booth where two bored attendants scrolling through their phones sat. Most attendees had already checked in at this point.

“Hello,” You tentatively called them from their screens. “I’m here to see Jensen.”

The one with pink hair sighed. “You and everyone else, sweetheart.”

Their concentration broke from the phone, and puzzlement crossed their face. Only then did you realize what state you were in from the morning hike. Tangled hair, sweat-crusted clothes, dried dirt down your entire left side, and a series of angry red scrapes on your calve. But they quickly recomposed themselves. Apparently, it wasn’t the oddest thing they had encountered today.

They grumbled as if you should know the process. “Ticket?” They held out their hand for a paper stub or your phone.

“You see, I don’t have a ticket.” You gritted your teeth, knowing how the next bit would sound. “But Jensen and I are actually… friends. So maybe he left my name or something on a list so I could get in?”

Something between a scoff and a laugh escaped the second’s mouth, covered up by a following cough.

“There’s no list. Friend or not, you still need a ticket to get in.” They held firm.

“Right, totally understandable.” You attempted to present as sane as possible, realizing passersby were staring too long for your comfort. “May I purchase a ticket?”

“If you want to meet Jensen in person, photo ops are done for the day, but we have a few silver packages that include autographs.” They explained.

“Great, that sounds wonderful. How much?” You asked compliantly.

“750.”

Now it was your turn to scoff. “You must be joking.” Even for romantic prospects, paying that absurd amount would take hell freezing over.

From their facial expression, they were not joking. “You could get general admission for 95, but that will only get you to the day's last panel, starting in about an hour.”

You raised an eyebrow. “A 100 dollars to hear them talk for what, forty minutes, an hour max?” Fucking ridiculous.

“You need a ticket.” They crossed their arms.

“Listen.” You pulled out your phone. “I literally drove the man here. I have the pictures. I think it will be okay if I go see him.”

You realized how much of a ‘Karen’ you were coming across as, but something inside you was starting to boil. The further you were being pushed away from him, the more you needed to fight.

The second attendant leaned into the collar of their polo, whispering. “We have a potential code gray.”

Fuck. You tucked your phone away. “You know what, it’s okay.” You slowly back away. “I’ll wait until it’s over. This is a big misunderstanding and does not need to get out of hand. I’ll talk to him tonight, and it will all be fine.”

You weren’t sure if you were trying to settle them or yourself, but you turned back down the hall and hastily walked out. Back in the hotel lobby, you weighed your options. You looked at your phone, and he still had not responded to the missed calls. Your stomach rumbled, and you smirked, knowing Jensen would tease you about not making the most rational decisions on an empty stomach. And you know what else? He’d encourage your spontaneity. Rather than wait in the lobby until the evening, you’d find another way in. There couldn’t be watching eyes everywhere. And once you did find him, he’d explain everything to whoever was being called in for code gray or whatever that meant.

Exiting the lobby, you circled the building and found a little courtyard where fans sat, chatted, and indulged in a quick meal. A hint of envy glossed over your eyes as you caught sight of an In-N-Out bag. You anticipated the doors to be locked, circumventing fans to use the one entrance, but they easily gave way. With feigned nonchalance, you went through another hall as if you belonged and knew exactly where you were going. Having quickly mapped the layout, you went around the ballroom to the back.

You were quickly met with a barricade of metal fences and high black curtains. An obvious sign to keep out and most likely where cast and crew could walk through unimpeded. You were close to out of ideas when an unmistakable figure in black jeans and a blue denim shirt walked past, followed by a posse.

“Jensen!” Your voice cracked.

It didn’t sound like your voice. It was higher and sharper. But through the sways of fabric, you saw him briefly hesitate. He was quickly ushered along.

“Oh, I think not.” You mumbled to yourself.

One leg was over the fence railing before your brain could comprehend your actions. Two shadows approached from behind the curtain as you straddled the cold metal. The crackling of their radio startled you, and you realized too late your mistake.

“Ma’am, we’ll need you to come with us.”

Double fuck. You ran for the exit back to the courtyard. Pausing once outside, you texted Jensen.

‘You remember that bucket list item I was talking about? Yeah, well, it might be much closer in the future than I anticipated.’

You tucked your phone away and continued your circle of the building. At this point, you were in too deep. You either had to leave the premise or find Jensen so he could bail you out. Well, fuck it. Unwittingly, he was the one to get you into this situation in the first place. He could get you out. You came across a stairwell entrance requiring a keycard for access. But gods, be blessed; whoever was watching you sent an answer. Someone came out for a cigarette break, and they even held the door for you as you stepped in.

You plotted the path in your mind, where you were positioned, and the direction he was headed. You took a left, scanning the area for any threat. A hall stemmed down to the right, and you saw more black curtains, but this time, you were successfully on the other side of them. You had to be close. A mischievous smile crossed your lips. This was fun. The adrenaline coursing through your system giving you a temporary high. Soon the Ocean Eight team would be knocking down your door, begging you to join their next heist.

Your false confidence shattered as you collided with the solid frame of a man. You looked up and up some more. His expression was far from pleased. A small, terrified giggle escaped your lips. As you turned, you found his double blocking your exit. Handcuffs came down upon your wrists, and you were escorted away.

Jensen sighed a breath of relief, making it to the holding room, where he joined Jared. He made it through photo ops; all that was left today was the panel and autographs. The panel earlier today for VIPs went better than expected too. The kiss never came up, and he was holding out hope that this next one would mirror it. Clif, his long-trusted security guard, closed the door behind them.

Jared had already gone through a pour of bourbon and was now cracking the seal of a Russel’s 13.

“Make mine a triple,” Jensen instructed.

Jared laughed. “That kind of day, huh?” And handed Jensen a generous double.

“I can almost see the finish line.” Jensen sniffed the top of the Glencairn and took a testing sip.

He prayed that the whiskey would loosen his nerves or, at the very least, get you off his mind. Logically, he knew you were in Estes Park but couldn’t stop thinking about you. It only worsened as the day progressed. In this last hour alone, he thought he glanced at you exiting the lobby and later heard you calling his name. He shook the feeling off as he took a bountiful swig. He smirked, knowing you’d call him out for not slowly savoring the whiskey’s intricacies, and he would retort with you being a snob. He poured himself another round, this time to take it more slowly. Jared scoffed and was about to condemn him when the Barrell Seagrass caught his eye.

The radio crackled, and a stern voice came through. “Tiny, we have a situation. Require your assistance.”

Clif, who was also about to help himself a pour, cursed under his breath upon hearing his codename. It had almost been a flawless con. He had jinxed himself by celebrating too soon.

Jared’s brow furrowed. “Everything alright?”

Clif grumbled. “It will be once I get there.” And exited the room.

Jensen was unconcerned and too focused on the palate of cherry and leather.

“What’s that about?” Jared chuckled.

“I find it better for my mental health not to dwell on the possibilities.” Jensen teased back.

He went to his phone charging on the gray console to check the time, wondering when he’d needed to start hyping himself back up. Immediately his brow furrowed upon seeing your three missed calls and your message. Bucket list? Bucket list? He had to think back. The alcohol already clouding his memory. His eyes popped. Immediately setting the glass down, he dialed your number. You didn’t answer. He dialed again. No answer. He resorted to texting.

‘For the love of god, pick up your damn phone.’

Followed by, ‘I swear to god if your ass is in jail, I’m not bailing you out.’ Though he fully would.

“Jesus Christ.” He muttered. How was he supposed to get through the day now?

The holding room you were kept in was less of a room and more of a closet. The several monitors that observed the conference center’s layout indicated that you were not as stealthy as you had initially thought. One security guard sat across from you while the other stood behind them. Both of their arms crossed.

“Come on.” You reasoned. “One of you has to be the good cop and at least pretend to believe my story. At least offer me a coffee.”

“You think you are hilarious, don’t you?” The one seated said.

Deadpan, you said, “I think I’m adorable.”

They did not engage further, only held the stern expression.

“I’m not fucking crazy.” You would have gestured to the phone if your hands weren’t cuffed behind you. “You saw the pictures, the texts.”

“It’s amazing what Photoshop can do these days.” The one standing remarked.

“What about the video with the kiss?” You pressed.

They both scoffed. As you watched it with them, there was no clear angle of your face.

“That doesn’t prove anything.”

You rolled your eyes and clenched your jaw.

“Then bring him here, and he will vouch for me.” You demanded. “If he doesn’t, I will willingly walk away and accept whatever restraining order you see fit.”

There was a knock on the door, and your hope lifted. The one standing stepped out. Thus commenced a staring contest with the one across from you. As your phone rang, you lost.

“That’s him!” You exclaimed.

They didn’t move, still engaged in the staring contest. He let it ring to voicemail. Immediately it rang again.

“Goddammit! Answer the phone!” You demanded.

“Just because you named someone Jensen on your phone doesn’t mean it’s him.” He held his head high. “But then again, I’m fully aware there is no use rationalizing with a delusional person.”

Your breath became ragged and sharp. You were forming venom on your lips when the door opened, and the man you saw yesterday approaching Jensen appeared in the room. A couple of texts came through, but you couldn’t read them. The man took one look at you and sighed with disappointment.

“Let her go.” He instructed.

It was all you could do not to stick your tongue out in victory.

“Y/N, I thought you were supposed to be in Estes Park?” He said with an agitated tone.

The cuffs clicked as they released, and you rubbed your wrists.

“How do you know my name?”

You were equally concerned yet grateful this stranger was on your side.

“It’s my job to know.”

The other two whispered back and forth to each other.

“Speaking of jobs,” He remarked. “Why don’t you do yours and look for an actual threat?”

“Yes, boss.” They hung their heads and left you alone in the room.

“Let me guess,” You started. “Good cop?”

He chuckled. “No, not at all. The name’s Clif. I’m the head of Jared and Jensen’s security team. You caused quite the stir these past couple of days.”

“Yeah,” You agreed. “I may have gone a little off the deep end at the end there. Am I in trouble?”

“Only if Jensen wants to press charges.” You could tell he wasn’t joking. “Which I imagine he won’t. Not after a kiss like that.”

Your cheeks grew warm. “I’m here to talk about that with him, actually. To talk about that and a lot of other things. I know he’s busy, but…”

Clif checked the silver watch around his wrist. “He’ll be getting ready to go on stage in about 15 minutes. Something tells me you’ll need more time than that.”

You nodded in agreement though slightly disappointed.

“If you’d like to sit in, it might make the time go faster,” He continued. “I can grab you afterward. There’s a dinner break between the panel and autos. I think he would be agreeable to see you then.”

You held up your bare wrist. “I don’t think they’ll let me in.”

Clif chuckled and fished through his back pocket, producing a bright orange wristband.

Before you left with Clif, you found Jensen’s texts and shot him one back, hoping he would see it before he had to go on stage.

‘False alarm. I’ll explain later. Have a great panel.’

The conversation was already in full swing by the time you arrived. Clif was escorting you there when he commented on your leg. Now that the adrenaline and pain meds from earlier had worn off, the pain was catching up to you. He made a quick pit stop on your behalf, getting you some additional painkillers and water. He insisted on cleaning it up better, but you insisted harder you wanted to see the panel and that it could wait.

The door echoed as it shut behind you. Jensen’s head snapped in your direction, but from the lights blinding him and dimming the crowd, he could barely make out a figure. He continued the banter with Jared as they began taking questions left and right.

As your eyes adjusted to the low lighting, you scouted out empty seats, yet the throbbing in your hip protested. It had already been cramped on the drive down here and again in the security room. You opted instead to lean against the back wall. Their antics riled up a laugh in you, but you couldn’t help to notice Jensen was on edge. He was fidgeting more than usual, wringing the microphone with his hands, combing his fingers through his hair, twisting in the barstool. You couldn’t help but feel a slice of guilt knowing you had caused some of it.

A girl walked up through the crowd, and as she got closer, her face felt familiar. She leaned against the wall a few feet away from you.

“Oh, I remember you.” You said aloud. “We took pictures with you at the Colorado sign.”

She glanced out of her peripheral and then fully at you when the realization hit.

“Oh my god, yeah. You were with Jensen, right?” She confirmed.

“Yup, that’s me.” You followed her gaze over you and remembered how dirty you were and most likely smelled of sweat. “Sorry, I went hiking this morning but wanted to make the panel.” You explained.

“No, I didn’t mean to stare. Sorry.” She gulped. “It’s just, yesterday you said you were only friends, but then we saw you kiss outside the hotel, and, like, that was a kiss to end all kisses. You’re totally together now, right?”

You gulped and stared ahead.

She didn’t wait for an answer. “What was it like? Kissing him?”

You inhaled sharply, remembering his taste, his scent, the feeling of his strong fingers against your flesh, wondering where else his hands and lips might wander if you gave him the chance.

“That good, huh?” She concluded.

“Are you having a good time at the convention?” You asked, hoping to move on to other topics.

“Oh, absolutely, but the crowds,” She gestured outwards. “They get a little overwhelming at some points.”

You nodded understanding. “Y/N.” You introduced yourself and held out your hand.

“Casey.” She said and shook.

As if proving her point of crowds further, Jensen used the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face. The crowd went feral upon seeing a hint of skin.

“Stop it.” Jensen’s voice boomed over the system.

Then with a wave of his hand, he called for more praise which the crowd was more than happy to oblige. This went back and forth for at least three rounds. Jared and Jensen shared a private small conversation.

“Alright, alright, simmer down,” Jensen called. “We have more questions to answer.” When he finally drew command over the crowd, he turned to the girl on the right. “Hey, we ran into you at the border, didn’t we?”

The girl nervously chuckled, flabbergasted that he would remember.

“Oh, that’s my friend.” Casey pointed.

You were standing obviously next to flight, and based on the girl’s response, she must have been freeze.

Finally, she regained her composure and stumbled out of the question. “My question is for Jensen, and I’m a little shocked it hasn’t come up yet,” Jensen’s face dropped as she continued. “Since a lot of people saw you yesterday and the video of you kissing that girl has been circulating, I was wondering if you are officially off the market?”

Jared’s head whipped to Jensen. He held his microphone down as he hissed, “What kiss?”

Jensen gulped, realizing he had discussed it with Clif and his PR team but forgot to loop in Jared. Well, maybe purposefully forgot so as not to relive the humiliation. The crowd was so silent you could hear the air conditioning humming. Only the pounding of your heart was louder.

The lights seemed to grow brighter as the seconds ticked by. He raced through what his team had suggested and how he should respond. He breathed into the microphone, then paused as if halting a thought before it even started.

“It’s complicated,” Was all he said.

Jensen gave Jared a pleading look for aid.

Jared breathed in deeply, thinking he was going to save the situation. “I know every heart in this room just broke but don’t worry, everyone needs a good rebound, and Jensen was due for one, give it a few weeks.”

“No.” Jensen stopped him. “No, that’s not what this is at all. I…” His voice cracked, and he paused again. He was exhausted from being careful with his words, hiding shit, and painting a face that would create appeal. And so he decided to let it all go. He picked a loose thread in his jeans as he confessed to the world. “A few months ago, I met someone. And I was a complete ass, but she gave me a second chance anyways. She’s not just a rebound from Elena. She’s kind, and funny, and a smart ass, but most of all, she is real. And she sees me not as Jensen Ackles, but just as…”

“Dean Winchester?” Jared grumbled.

A few fans yelped, but most stayed respectful.

Jensen’s jaw tightened. “She sees me as I am.” He huffed. “I like her. Like, like her.” He said as if he was in middle school, and there was a collective aw in response from the audience. “I saw a future with her.”

“Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Jared piped in.

“Calm down,” He snipped back. “Not wedding bells, two kids, a dog, and a white picket fence. Not yet, anyway. Just taking it a few months at a time. Having someone other than you to confide in, to care for and be cared for in return, someone I can laugh and cry with, someone to share adventures with, I don’t know…” He sighed, defeated, getting away from himself, feeling like he wasn’t making sense. He turned to Jared, “It’s not like you aren’t my best friend, but you have Gen. You have someone you can go home to, someone you can talk to when I’m annoying the hell out of you, someone you can be vulnerable with and don’t have to act around.”

Jared sighed.

“That doesn’t sound complicated.” The shy voice peeped up.

Jensen smiled mournfully, addressing the fan again. “The thing is, she doesn’t feel the same. I got friend-zoned. Hard. Which is okay. It is completely her right. And I mean, I’m a lot to deal with, so I get it. So it’s complicated because we have to figure out if we can stay friends now that I screwed us over with that kiss half of you witnessed.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It took a second for you to process it all.

“This is utter bullshit.” You gasped, Casey taking it all in, though you had completely tuned out the rest of the world as if you were talking directly to him. “Friend-zoned, how did I friend-zone you? Maybe, and here’s a thought: if you had the ability to confess your feelings to me with as much ease as to hundreds of people, I could have told you I felt the same. But you just kissed me, and I panicked because I didn’t know what you wanted, and I thought I wanted more than you. Because I do see you as you are, but I acknowledge that you are still Jensen Ackles, and I’m still a crazy little fan that shouldn’t even know you in the first place. It’s not either, or, asshat; it can be both. I’ve been waiting for your lead this whole time. And now that I’m here, you are telling everyone it’s over before we even had a chance. Fuck!”

Although it was a rageful whisper, Casey heard everything and ferociously typed away on her phone.

Before Jared tried again to regain control of the situation, Casey’s friend jumped back on the mic. “Y/N says that if Jensen had confessed his feelings to her in the first place with as much ease as he can in front of thousands of fans, she wouldn’t have accidentally friend-zoned him.”

Jensen stood abruptly. “Y/N’s here?”

Panic rose again, seeing heads turn, looking for an imposter in the crowd.

The girl continued. “She says she was waiting for him to decide if he wanted to take the relationship to the next level, probably because she’s just a fan like us, and well, fuck, he’s Jensen Ackles. And I’m looking at her right now, and she is head over heels. Well, okay, she’s a little furious, but if Jensen wants her to have his babies, she would totally have his babies. Girl, we have to help her lock that man down…”

Again, silence in the room.

“What did you do?” Your eyes were wide.

Casey kept typing, ignoring your panic. “Trust me.”

You felt eyes on you and slid down the wall in mortal dread.

“Sorry,” The friend at the mic said. “Those were texts from my friend. I probably shouldn’t have read every single one.”

Crickets.

“Y/N’s here?” Jensen asked again.

“Yeah,” The girl looked through the crowd and pointed. Thankfully, it redirected some of the gaze to the back. “She must be sitting with my friend over there somewhere.”

Jared stood, but Jensen waved him away. “How do I know it’s really Y/N, and you're not making this up?” He asked skeptically.

Casey looked down at you as you were hiding your face between your palms. She nudged you with her foot.

The girl’s voice sounded throughout the ballroom. “I spy something yellow, clouds or mountains, the nasty-ass ball pit, Neil Diamond, or Bate’s Motel; any one of those should do.”

Jensen snickered and shook his head back and forth. “God dammit, Y/N. Do you want to try and make this work? Be more than friends?” He was still searching the crowd but couldn’t find you.

“Sign an NDA,” Jared sarcastically commented, believing Jensen’s previous analysis of your commitment to privacy was shockingly misguided.

“She says you can ask her face-to-face on a proper date.” Some of the crowd chuckled; others held a sadness that the window of his singleness was closing.

“I didn’t say that.” You snipped at Casey.

“We can’t make you seem too eager. Not after that baby comment.” She retorted.

Jensen chuckled again. “How does ten tonight sound? You pick the place.”

From a distance, he could see the door in the back crack open, light flooding the darkness momentarily, and he knew it was you. A small smirk escaped his lips.

The friend at the microphone continued to telephone Casey’s messages. “She left, I think, 'cause I embarrassed her and exaggerated certain details. But if I didn’t completely mortify her, I say it’s safe to change your relationship status.”

From the main lobby, you could hear the cheers and applause. This was not how you expected the day to go, especially almost getting arrested and working things out with Jensen over a panel. There was the sound of heavy footsteps and keys jingling as Clif rounded a corner.

“You keep making my job more and more interesting.” He jokingly scolded. “Come on,” He gestured with a nod of his head. “Let’s get you out of here before the panel ends, and people put two-and-two together.”

You stepped in line. “Let me make the record clear that Jensen was the one to kiss me and could have been more tactful in answering that question. I will only take the blame for momentarily losing it and breaking a few convention policies that may or may not be criminal offenses. I don’t know how this stuff works.”

He turned to look back at you and wiggled his eyebrows as if keeping you privy to a secret. “Something tells me I’m going to have to keep an eye on you.”

“Not when you should have both eyes on Jensen.” You teased back.

He laughed as you continued down the hall, and he parted a black curtain for you. “Oh, I like you.”

He led you to the holding room. It was nearly as messy as a frat house after a championship victory. Bottles of whiskey lined a TV stand, jackets and sweatshirts were strewn about, devices of all kinds were plugged into outlets, and piles of eaten and unopened food sat everywhere. You found a clear spot on the couch, and exhaustion finally hit you. Exhaustion from traveling non-stop, to restless nights, to hiking earlier this morning, to internally debating everything that was happening. You leaned your head back and shut your eyes.

The temporary relief was short-lived as the click of the door opening jolted you from the micro-nap. You stood up as Jensen and Jared entered the room. They looked equally exhausted but somehow maintained their brightness and energy. Jensen’s face glowed upon seeing you.

“Y/N!” Jensen exclaimed.

“Hi.” You greeted sheepishly.

He bounded over to you and took your cheeks in his hands, pressing his lips against yours. Jared went for another round of whiskey.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He pulled away and looked you over. “What the hell happened?”

You didn’t know where to begin. “I met a park ranger.” You said, accompanied by something between a laugh and a huff.

Jensen took in your scrapped-up leg, and his face grew stern. “Are you okay? We should get a doctor to come look you over.”

“I’m fine,” You promised. “The ranger did a thorough examination and knocked some sense into me. I should be back to normal in a couple of days.”

“Was he cute?” He asked.

You grinned. “Very.”

He pinched his lips together in a smile. “Well, then I better up the antics for our date tonight and really try and impress you.”

“Oh my god,” You giggled. “I never said any of that!” He gave you a questioning glance. “To be fair, not most of it.”

“So, no babies then?” He teased, and your cheeks turned ten shades darker. “Hey Jared, it’s time I officially introduce you; this is Y/N. Y/N, Jared.”

“Pleasure,” Jared stated coldly.

“It’s great to finally meet you,” You offered.

“Hey, we should order some food before autographs.” Jared bypassed you and spoke directly to Jensen.

“Yeah,” Jensen agreed. “I’m starving. You want anything?” He asked you.

You shook your head no. “What I need is a shower and clean clothes.”

Jensen smiled and dug through his wallet, fetching out a key card. “Room 912. If you need anything, text Clif. I’ll send you his number.” He handed it to you. “See you later tonight? Then maybe we will have the chance to talk about all this.”

“Yeah.” You bit your lip, accepting the key and trying not to get ahead by wondering if you would be sharing a room tonight.

Starting a relationship with him required a plan, including expectations and boundaries. As much as you wanted to rush into things, taking it slow was for the best. Waiting for him to finish autographs would give you time to make a list and develop some questions on what a relationship with him would entail beyond the normal stuff. This wouldn’t be as easy as it seemed, but you trusted he would be there to guide you. Before parting, he placed another peck on your lips, leaving you craving more.

Part 8

---

GHTTC Tags: @maggiegirl17 @foxyjwls007 @djs8891 @deans-spinster-witch @tmb510 @ghostofjoharvelle

[saturniandevil]

March 2024 Important Dates

AKA my notes on The Astrology Podcast's March Forecast.

February recap: The conjunction between Mercury, Venus, Mars, and Pluto in Aquarius conjunction has aligned with new tech developments. The Venus-Pluto conjunction heralded OpenAI's new text-to-video generator and the ensuing discussion on its potential political, labor, and artistic effects. Mercury was conjunct Mars and Venus trine Jupiter (with Virgo Moon completing a grand trine & involving the Saturn-Pisces opposition) the day Neuralink tried its first human subject. How will different parts of society react to further developments in cybernetics and body augmentation? Past occurrences of astrological alignments can help us make predictions. Advances in robotics during a major transit in the humanistic sign of Aquarius will challenge us to redefine what it means to be human. On February 10th, around the Mars-Pluto conjunction, a group of people set a self-driving delivery car on fire in San Francisco. These robo-taxis are likely going to increase when Jupiter enters Gemini, and indeed a few companies are poised to launch in other cities.

In other Pluto in Aquarius news, last episode Chris noted there's work in using X-rays to ancient scrolls from Herculaneum and Pompeii that can't be opened without incurring damage. On February 5th, the day of the Mercury-Pluto conjunction, the first images of one of these scrolls have been made available. This fits with Mercury-Pluto themes of lost or buried information coming to light. On the same day King Charles of England's cancer diagnosis was announced--an announcement of mortality. We also had the first privately-funded lunar vehicle landing. Pluto makes large thing imperceptibly small and makes microscopic things enormous.

In Saturn in Pisces news, in 2020 Chris predicted success for Miley Cyrus's Saturn return and indeed she won the Grammy. This also marks part 2 of the Dune movie--the book was written under Saturn in Pisces as well. Other influential sci-fi & fantasy stories were written under Saturn in Pisces like Lord of the Rings, and our hosts predict that a new classic will be born during this transit. In other Mars-Pluto news, we have ambiguous stories about nuclear weapons and Israel's announcement of storming Rafah. Unfortunately the upcoming eclipses (connected to 6 months ago) do not bode well for cessation of warfare. On February 15th, farmers in India have begun striking again, and doctors in South Korea walked out on the job to protest working conditions--Mars in Aquarius squaring Jupiter-Uranus in Taurus reactivates these ongoing labor disputes.

Our hosts recorded the forecast before the perfect Mercury-Saturn-Sun conjunction in Pisces hit on February 28th (the day I'm typing this!), which is one of the major influences over the first half of March. The other big influence is Mars-Venus in Aquarius. In the mutable, indeterminate sign of Pisces, Saturn doesn't bring us as much order as he did in the previous two signs of his domicile.

March 2nd/3rd - Venus square Uranus Venus in Aquarius squares Uranus in Taurus--either a change is needed to bring us peace and pleasure, or something is disrupting our pleasure. Austin says either way, this placement prompts us for significant changes. Venus's is overcoming Uranus (earlier in the zodiac, has the upper hand), so we can make good use of this placement if we shake things up a little bit in relationships.

March 9th/10th - Mars square Uranus, Mercury enters Aries Mercury has entered the sign where he'll retrograde, stretching what would normally be a transit of a few weeks into 2 months. Mercury in Mars's sign amplifies the wishes of the red planet, who's doing some pretty interesting stuff. In a firey Mars-ruled sign, Mercury wants something practical to do. This clarity and decisiveness will be welcome after all the indecision of Pisces. However, the North Node is in Aries, with the power to obscure things even when it's not blocking the Sun's light. There will be an eclipse here in April, so the pathfinding is tricky. We'll definitely be doubling back as Mercury prepares to retrograde. Sometimes you need to dive into things while you have the vision, yet before you have the rationale. Austin likens it to clearing your way through thick jungle terrain to determine whether a route is viable--it's only by going forward that you find out that you're on the wrong path, and thus, where the right one is. Mercury retrogrades teach us to learn from our mistakes--third time's the charm!

Mars follows Venus's path, and along with Mercury, weighs heavily on the upcoming lunation. Mars-Uranus connotes surprise attacks, sudden severing, unexpected explosions. Internally this can make us feel restless and impulsive. Keywords: recklessness and action without planning. Think of a cigarette being dropped near an oil drum. Technology disruptions are also likely.

March 10th - Pisces New Moon

Saturn and Neptune are close by to this lunation, and though Mars-Uranus is weighing in, Mars in particular is ultimately reporting to Saturn's broader plan. As Neptune and Saturn approach their conjunction, we'll seek escapism and the imaginal as a respite for our fatigue. We need to step out from being immersed in these waters. Mercury conjoined Neptune on the 8th before he left Pisces, leaving the imprint of confused or empathic communications in the air as the lunar cycle resets for the month.

March 11th/12th - Venus enters Pisces From here she builds up to a conjunction with Saturn at 11° on the 21st. As the sign of her exaltation, she's better able to bring harmony and reconciliation in our relationships, though Saturn brings a cool distance to our relationships. She'll conjoin Neptune in this sign next month. We may also see some kind of artwork that resonates with people on a deep emotional level.

March 17th - Sun conjoins Neptune, Electional chart

At around 1PM local time, this chart has Cancer rising with a dignified Moon in Cancer, applying to a trine with Venus at 7Pisces and sextile with Jupiter in Taurus in the 11th house. This chart occurs before things go crazy later in the month and is the best time to start something new. It's especially good for friends, groups and alliances and doing new things outside of the box.

March 18th - Mercury enters shadow (not pictured) Mercury hits 15Aries, the point he'll retrograde back to, at the same time as he conjoins the North Node. This is a precursor of things that will occur in April.

March 19th/20th - Sun enters Aries This puts the Sun in the same time as the Node that will eclipse it.

March 21st - Venus conjoins Saturn Saturn and Venus bring a sort of melancholy beauty to things. Though we may see them at odds for signifying discipline and love respectively, Saturn does exalt in Venus's sign of Libra. In the sign of Pisces empathy is especially relevant--think understanding each other's feelings because we've suffered the same things. Nostalgia is another important keyword.

March 22nd - Mars enters Pisces This puts him on track to contact to Saturn (exact cojunction c. April 10th)--a dangerous combination. Along with the Sun in Aries and Mercury slowing, this represents the event horizon of major developments for the rest of the month and early April. This will be the first Mars-Saturn conjunction in Pisces; note the Aquarius conjunctions in 2020 and later years coincided with the COVID lockdown(s). Sea lane transit will likely slam on the brakes as well, and current maritime conflicts will see big developments. More figuratively we may ask "where are we going, and what dangers lie ahead?"

March 25th - Libra Lunar Eclipse

For about a week things have been building up to this eclipse. Its twin will be visible across much of the United States in early April, meanwhile a comet will start to be visible in the night sky. Mars in Pisces copresent Saturn weighs heavily on this eclipse. The pace of events starts moving quickly and chaotically around eclipse season, and things start to move rapidly up or down, especially for prominent people & companies. This eclipse represents a culmination or next chapter of events started in October--major beginnings and major endings (in the Libra house of your chart for individuals). The picture may begin to get clearer. It's not the last installment, but things are clearly underway. Unfortunately this does not bode well for ongoing global conflicts. We can't see clearly with the eclipse, meanwhile Mercury is slowing down about to station retrograde, while right on the North Node. Combined with dangerous Mars-Saturn, it's a bit of a crazy situation. Jupiter's approach to a conjunction with Uranus indicates some surprising, amazing wins, and some people will find unexpected good fortune once the smoke clears. However, not everyone will be able to count on winning the Jupiter lottery here. (Later in April, when Jupiter conjoins Uranus exactly we can expect some kind of freedom and liberation).

The two weeks between these eclipses will be very active, dramatic, and chaotic, with beginnings and endings galore. In the Indian astrology dasha timing technique, the US Sibly chart has been in a time period ruled by Rahu (north node) since the early 2010s, making any eclipses visible in that country especially important to it. This is a time to be flexible!

[randommusingsstuff]

Devi, Ben, and the Power of Happy Endings

Never Have I Ever is about to go down in the history books as one of the most thematically rich coming of age stories produced in the streaming era.

While the thought of parting from my beloved, Devi Vishwakumar, makes me want to curl into a fetal position, I’ve been struck with the sudden inspiration to document my predictions. Every wild, outrageous opinion.

Maybe this post will be nothing more than fodder for your morning coffee Tumblr scroll, but my hope is that it will convey a sense of optimism. Not only do I think that Never Have I Ever will have an explicitly romantic ending for Ben and Devi, I think that it fundamentally has to. But we still have a long journey ahead.

1. Devi: T-minus 5 Seconds to Heartbreak

This is Devi Vishwakumar, walking into school for her first day of senior year, smiling like the lovestruck nerd that she is, having finally figured out that she wants to be with Ben. 

I mean, just look at her gloat! This is the gloat of someone who is ready to join forces with her soulmate so they can terrorize the school with their combined obnoxiousness! 

Only to walk in and see this:

Oh Ben... To quote the great Logan Echolls, “no one writes songs about the ones that come easy”.

2. To boink, or not to boink?

I’m not convinced that Ben and Devi had sex.

Now, hold on-

Let me first caveat and say that Never Have I Ever always manages to surprise me. While I can pick out the broad narrative strokes and character arcs they are aiming for, they manage to awe and delight me with the details.

I think that following through on the “one free boink” scene is the more interesting route, but it also makes the writers’ jobs much, much harder.

I cannot fathom Ben and Devi having sex and then Ben immediately rebounding to Margot. That level of womanizing would make Paxton Hall-Yoshida tremble in his tiny swim shorts. In order to keep the audience on Ben’s side, the writers would have to spend a considerable amount of time unpacking his trauma and explaining his perspective. It’s not impossible, but I’m dubious.

The show never rewards Devi for making a decision based on her own insecurities. She wants to have sex with Ben, but her catalyst for getting there is the sext Fabiola accidently sends to her instead of Addison (i.e Devi is insecure about being the only virgin in her friend group left).

Maitreyi confirmed that season 4 would pick up immediately where season 3 left off. Do I think we’re getting play-by-play? An under-the-cover post boink scene? Them starting to make-out then something happening? I’m betting on the latter.

3. The Ben Problem

Picture this:

Mid make-out, Devi casually lets slip that she is staying at Sherman Oaks for senior year. Suddenly, sex with the love of his life is an actual relationship that he has to contend with. All the trauma and pain from season 2 comes flooding back. And it’s important to remember that Ben was deeply traumatized from the events of season 2.

His actual brain catches up with his er… primal instincts, and they agree to see where things go. It's just vague enough that Devi thinks they’re going to be together, but Ben is scared. Scared of being more in love with her than he already is and scared of being hurt again. He goes with the safer option of neglecting his feelings, because his arc of vulnerability has yet to be fully actualized.

This manages to set up the same conflict and angst between Ben and Devi and give Ben a starting point to make amends without having him abandon Devi right after she has sex for the first time.

It’s a much more palatable fallout for the “one free boink scene”, but I digress.

4. Never Have I Ever... Been a Wallflower

We catch up with Paxton in episode 3, narrated by Gigi Hadid, and he’s kind of shy?

He has always used his popularity as a crutch and now has to grapple with his new identity. Much like Devi and Ben, Paxton’s insecurities are an ongoing battle, as he realizes that his choice to go to college was partially defined by his desire to escape the “dumb jock” label. Tucked away in his dorm room, watching life pass him by, he realizes that he doesn’t need to prove anything to anyone else. He can pursue his athletic aspirations and still defy the labels that people have placed on him. By the end of the episode, Paxton makes the decision to come back to Sherman Oaks as a swim coach assistant.

I’ll admit, I think it’s a strange choice to reignite Devi and Paxton’s romance by making him a faculty member at the school. The writers might as well hold up a big red sign that says, “The only reason we can think of for Devi and Paxton to interact is if they are stuck in high school together”. 

But I want to make one thing clear: I do not think this undoes his arc from season 3. To realize that just because you can do something doesn’t mean you have to is a very natural extension of gaining personal liberty.

And I, for one, am proud of him.

Also, I’m getting season 2 vibes from this scene.

Devi and Paxton fans can probably expect callbacks, sweet moments, a kiss, and an emphasis on how important they have been to each other's personal growth.

5. Where are Ben and Devi?

Hidden behind a Michael Cimino-sized red herring. They are going to give us as little as they possibly can about Ben and Devi during promo season. The same way they have in *checks notes* every single season prior.

I’ve written about this before, but it is integral to their individual arcs that they are honest about their love for each other. It is the bedrock of the story. But between Michael Cimino’s washboard abs and closing out Paxton and Devi’s arc in a way that feels satisfying and emotionally resonant, I don’t think we’ll be seeing Ben and Devi’s domestic bliss phase.

Put another way: The love triangle and push-and-pull romance is not a side story, it’s a source of narrative conflict that’s integral to the plot. Would you resolve the final battle in a fantasy series three episodes before the finale? Resolving the Ben and Devi plot early would be like sucking all of the tension out of the story. It would not give us the euphoric high of Ben and Devi blurting out that they love each other at the eleventh hour after trying to suppress their feelings. The show has always saved these big moments for finales, and this season will be no different.

But for anyone worried that Ben and Devi will be fighting the entire season, I think we’re in for our most Benvi-centric season yet, filled with great moments and their trademark banter.

They go to New York to visit colleges. Neither of them admits it, but they are relieved to know that they will remain constants in each others’ lives. 

They study for finals together while bantering, skirting around the topic of prom, and just generally being the only two idiots who don’t know they are in love. *Buries self under 10 pounds of cement*

This time, Ben asks her to dance. The angst, unspoken feelings and tension are palpable.

They fight over valedictorian and it’s practically foreplay. Devi wins, and Ben is proud of her, underscoring his growth and ability to put aside his competitive nature to be supportive.

And that is just a fraction of what’s in store for our obnoxious, loveable nerds.

6. 🎶 It's the circle of life 🎶

“Hey, gods. It's Devi Vishwakumar, your favorite Hindu girl in the San Fernando Valley. What's a-poppin'? It's the first day of school, and I thought we should have a check in. I think we can all agree that last year sucked for a number of reasons. So I thought of a few ways you guys can make it up to me.”

“One: I'd like to be invited to a party with alcohol and hard drugs. I'm not gonna do them. I'd just like the opportunity to say: ‘No cocaine for me, thanks. I'm good.’”

John Mcenroe Voice: Devi, you seem a little drunk.

“Two: I'd love for my arm hair to thin out. I know it's an Indian thing, but my forearms look like the frigging floor of a barber shop.”

The mehndi on her hands symbolizes her love for her family and heritage. Juxtaposed with her western clothes, it signifies her acceptance of her intersectionality.

“And lastly, most importantly, I'd really, really like a boyfriend, but not some nerd from one of AP classes.”

The picture that I want to get my hands on is currently stashed away in Netflix’s top-secret headquarters, but I’ll settle for this one of Ben’s adorable, dopey smile.

7. The Finale: Why Devi and Ben Must Have an Unambiguously Happy Ending

For the longest time, I believed that Never Have I Ever would go the way of its spiritual successor Crazy-Ex Girlfriend and give Devi the “I choose myself” ending” with hints of her ending up with Ben in the future.

It was only when watching the season 3 finale that I realized how wrong I was. In fact, I was so fundamentally wrong that I overlooked the obvious: Never Have I Ever has never done anything halfway. The writers of Never Have I Ever know something about the audience that we often fail to recognize ourselves, which is that we desperately want a happy ending.

Season one could have ended with Devi’s heartfelt goodbye to her father and reconciliation with her mother. What do we get instead? A sweeping, romantic shot of Malibu while Devi and Ben share their first kiss.

In the season 2 finale, Devi proclaims that she will not settle for “some weird secret thing behind closed doors” and that she wants to be “someone's public girlfriend.” And what does she get? Exactly what she wants.

But it’s only in season 3 when this pattern becomes apparent. The season could have easily ended with her deciding to stay at Sherman Oaks. We had already said our farewell to Paxton, and gotten this chemistry-choked, almost-love-confession between our favourite dorks:

And we think that maybe, just maybe, the season will end with Devi single and ready for her senior year. But the show says “subtlety be damned”. It demands a triumphant ending, with Devi showing up at Ben’s door, leading to what will certainly be one of the most intimate moments in the entire show.

Tonally, the story makes bold choices, and the reaction from fans is always electric. In a world of being told “no” and being conditioned to temper our expectations, Never Have I Ever is like a warm hug reminding us that even the most broken people can heal and find love.

And this brings us back to “the Ben problem”, the idea is that he must overcome his fear and confess his love to Devi. And Devi, in turn, must love herself before being able to embrace her narrative mirror.

On a show that prides itself on big endings, escapism, and romance it seems unfathomable, and almost cruel, for Devi and Ben to be in love and not be together.

The writers do not want people finishing the show, shrugging, and saying “that was a realistic ending.” They want us to watch the finale with grins too big for our faces, our hearts bursting with excitement. They want us to know that all of Ben and Devi’s suffering over the past four seasons meant something, that when Devi finally makes the right decisions, she “will find someone who loves her exactly as she is.”

Love, unvarnished and without fear. That is the true narrative promise of Never Have I Ever.

[amywhereyouwant]

Some TOH HCs I wanted to share

There are a LOT of them, so They're under the read more for your scrolling convenience

Luz

-Uses She/They pronouns

-Would watch the entirety of Sword Art Online just to be able to shit on it properly

-Eats way too much Shredded Cheese even though she’s Lactose Intolerant

-Has made a Your mom joke to Willow only to remember she doesn’t have one

-Mains King in Tekken and made a custom attire trying to make it look like the other King

-Screenpeeks religiously in Split Screen Multiplayer

-Predicted Hecazura 2 books into the series, still won’t shut up about it

-Relatively known Digital Artist, her blog probably took off when she started making art of the Demon Realm 

-Hates baking

-Helps Amity bake out of the kindness of her heart(Also seeing Amity enjoying herself is really nice)

-Had a cold once, hasn’t had a Human Realm illness since

-Has SH scars from her depressed period back in the human realm(S3E1), still ashamed over them

-Quotes Memes constantly, only Hunter understands what she’s talking about

-Cracked a rib tripping on a rug on her way to bed

Amity

-Absolutely hates Bugs, like, genuinely despises them

-Does not know how computers work, but still tries to use Luz’s laptop to look up date ideas

-Can and will dress as the most stereotypical Witch ever

-Adopted(All 3 Blight Kids are in my HC)

-Likes to bake

-Does not know how to bake

-Gets sick constantly

-Works out a lot so she can help out with rebuilding the Isles(and also a little bit for Luz)

-Used to apologise a lot for minor things(Pre-timeskip)

-REALLY Bummed she didn’t get to see Titan Luz

-Watched the barbie movie the same day Gus watched Oppenheimer

Gus

-Goes nonverbal when stressed out, uses Illusions and his palisman to communicate

-Cried for hours when he finished the last Cosmic Frontier book, even though it was a happy ending

-Likes the idea of Professional Wrestling, but wishes the fights were to the death

-Quotes Cosmic Frontier as a Vocal Stim

-Dramatically perishes in Matt’s arms on the regular

-Headcanons O'Bayley to look exactly like Hunter just for the memes

-Thinks Human 2D Animation is the most beautiful thing to have ever been created

-Watched Across the Spider-Verse and Begged for Luz to draw a Spider-Suit for him, she did one for everyone

-Got really jealous when everyone else got flapjack tattoos, then he realised he could just make one of his own with an Illusion

-Got insanely mad when he learned about Human Discrimination(“How can you hate someone for something they can’t change? That’s ridiculous!”)

-Watched Oppenheimer the same day Amity and Hunter watched the Barbie Movie

Hunter

-LOVES Dino Nuggies

-Didn’t know Dinosaurs were real for a while until Luz showed them to him, Velociraptors are his favourite because “They’re like Wolves but Lizards!” (They’re not)

-Has a tumblr account where he posts about Wolves, Luz is his only follower

-Definitely has a Fursona

-Kicks Luz’s ass at most video games, except for Halo 2 specifically(I wonder why)

-”Will you go out with me?” “Hunter we’ve been dating for a year” “Oh.”

-Thinks Huggbees’ How it’s actually made videos are 100% Legit and honest

-Made Willow a Flower Shirt to match his Wolf Shirt

-Wears Willow’s Flower Shirt he made

-Imagine Dragons is his favourite band

-Has Epilepsy

-Steals Willow’s dresses sometimes

-Found Nicole Coenen on YouTube, showed her to luz “She looks kinda like Amity!”(Nobody else sees the resemblance)

-Probably plays a LOT of Roblox

-Watched the Barbie Movie with Amity(Luz forced him to)

-Has seen every single vine there is(Thank the Titan for Vine Compilations on YouTube)

-Any kind of facial hair he grows is really patchy so he just goes clean shaven for convenience

-Snuck food during TtT even though he was 100% allowed to eat normally

-Bananas do exist in the Demon Realm, Hunter has just never learned that they do

-Gets visits from the Spirits of the other Golden Guards in his dreams

Willow

-Tackled someone to the ground when they only slightly bumped into Hunter(We stan a protective queen)

-Feeds her palisman doggie treats, nobody knows why

-Filled Camila’s entire back garden with way too many plants during TtT, they’re still there despite not being watered for a while

-Made a Garland made of both Demon and Human Realm plants for Hunter on their anniversary

-Has no real idol/role model

-Happily Listens to everyone else ramble about their interests

-Wears Hunter’s Wolf Shirt

-Calls Hunter “Hun” as a short for his name, started doing it even more after she figured out what it actually meant

-Pranks people she doesn’t like by putting giant Grape Vines around their house

-Held a presentation about plant care for the Gravesfield Gardener Society

-Thinks most Human Sports are boring(Except for Hockey and Roller Derby)

Vee

-Pulls off some crazy ass cosplays

-Knows how to drive Camila’s car perfectly, still has no idea how it actually works though

-Laughed so hard she couldn’t breathe first time she heard Metal Pipe Fall Sound Effect

-Considers Luz to be her Sister, Camila burst into tears and hugged her when she called Luz “Big Sis” in front of her for the first time

-Plays Minecraft on Camila’s home PC, has spent tons of time on Hypixel and built a little shrine for the other basilisks on a private world

-Takes after Luz in a lot of ways

-Is way better at Spanish than Luz, flexes about it constantly(Nobody really cares)

-Had no idea how to tell Masha she was a Basilisk when they confessed to her(Masha knew long before she told them)

-Is really cuddly in Basilisk form, not so much when shapeshifted(“I don’t really feel like it’s myself”)

-Her first kiss with Masha was really awkward, she apologised like 45 times and cried because it wasn’t good

-Steven Universe is a canon IP in the universe, so she got really confused when Amethyst sounded EXACTLY like her

I have no idea why I made this

[stillness138]

5 things i'm able to rant about for an hour without preparation, or, the brainworms tag game

thank u @thirstyforred ☺️

-

i think i'm quite predictable, but lemme try

1. yeah, this one takes the top spot here too, surprising nobody. the witcher, text, lore, metatext. or however it's called when the writer had a goal and we all have to live with his increasingly more nonsensical way of reaching it. everything about it makes me go insane and what perhaps the most is the way people - and i now mostly mean writers other than Sapek - handle the material after him. the good and the bad. these books and whatever came out of them thematically touch me like nothing else does and i can't imagine a world where the attachment i have to it all didn't exist. an hour would barely suffice to get started.

2. art and art history. obviously, so i don't have to type a whole lot here. i always did it, i studied it, it's a fundamental part of me. if we ever go to a museum, give me something to chew on so i don't yap the whole way through.

3. meteorology. i just think they're neat meme but it's clouds and our atmosphere. it's a bit deeper than that though, i grew up in a gliding environment and this was an omnipresent, crucial part of it. my interest in severe weather resparked a couple years ago so now here i am, running out of the house whilst sick to take pictures of a thunderstorm. don't ask me about tornadoes.

4. the elder scrolls, with the clarification that i am very very far from actually knowledgeable about it. but it, for me, exists in a funnily similar place as the witcher when it comes to including ideas and themes, but also author and intent in how i look at these works. this would lead me to a whole tangent on how nothing exists in a vacuum and triple A videogame writing, probably. i really enjoy creating characters in this universe, maybe more than any other (they don't know i have like 30 tes ocs...), but keep the brainworms in check on purpose because if i cared about another thing at the mercy of corporate interest as much as i already do about that one, i think not even touching grass could help me.

5. i'm not sure if this is the best descriptor or if it deserves its own spot but...people? fandoms and cliques, how art is perceived and treated. how class and classism play into that. i feel strongly about these things because i find people fascinating and spend too much time on the internet, but i'm also who i am and interacting with people will sometimes inevitably make me ponder these things. it's why i put "theme shitaboutgiver" in my bio here tho so i guess gamers give me enough of a headache to warrant a spot on this list.

i also wanna know what vexes the rest of strays so consider yourselves tagged frens 🌼

[lingy910y]

Weekly Tag Wednesday

@deedala and @energievie tagged me :') my answers are so predictable cause i'm sure i've talked abt these before

name: ling

zodiac sign: virgo

fuzzy socks or fuzzy blankets? socks, i feel like fuzzy blankets would be too much? idk maybe i haven't experienced real fluff but i prefer just cotton

do you enjoy winter? no i'm rly starting to believe summer is superior...

what's your comfort book or movie? my cousin vinny in terms of most rewatched ig

what's your favorite way to wind down after a long day? lay in bed and scroll on tumblr

tell me something you like about yourself: the masquerade reinforces my belief that i'm a good detective bc all my friends call me that, i almost feel like a creep figuring out hidden things 😭 let's see if i get any right so i can laugh at myself lmao

favorite artist: i said a fanartist last time so i'll go with @/falseknees' art this time...it's so beautiful

how do you practice self care? um. i take deep breaths a lot and eating food even when you're too lazy to do so counts right??

what's a song that makes you feel joyful? call me maybe by carly rae jepsen 😌

a book you want to read this year: this is how you lose the time war by amal el-mohtar and max gladstone. however i am the slowest reader in the world since elementary school, now i can only read at most 2 books a year :/

what advice would you give your younger self: DON'T BORROW GRIEF FROM THE FUTURE!!!!!

and finally, you’re given a plane ticket to anywhere in the world, no strings attached. where are you going? japan ✈️

ok tagging @heymrspatel, @mmmichyyy, @ardent-fox, @lupeloto, @vintagelacerosette, @jademickian, @softmick, @krysmiss & @iansw0rld !!!

[ungoliantschilde]

Black Panther: Wakanda Forever

a Spoiler-Free review:

Watched this last night with my wife, with the intent that we would watch it again with all 3 boys this weekend (2, 5, and almost 10). Um, neither of us really know what to think of this film, except that it’s definitely not going to hold the boys’ interest for its almost 3 hour run time.

We checked the Rotten Tomatoes site after we watched it and both her and I think that the numbers on that site are… massaged. Seriously. I think that Rotten Tomatoes is rating it a lot higher than audiences actually rated it. The app on my phone gave it 94% audience reaction, but you scroll down to the user reviews and the first 10-15 are negative, with the common thread being that’s it’s really long and pretty boring. I think the rotten tomatoes reviews for this film are enhanced as a marketing tool.

It’s a C+, not an A+.

It’s a good movie, but it’s not particularly exciting or action packed. Long stretches of it deal with mourning the loss of T’Challa and Chadwick Boseman in general. And the mourning is done very, very well. It’s a classy, well made tribute to a fantastic actor that we lost way too soon. It’s just… long. It’s almost 3 hours long and there are like, 15 minutes of it that feel like a superhero movie.

Namor was pretty much note-perfect. The cast in general was predictably incredible. The movie was well made, well directed, and very well designed. Because Aquaman already came out, they can’t really call Namor’s home Atlantis. But, I honestly liked this interpretation of Atlantis a little bit more than the one from Aquaman. I liked the Mesoamerican take on Namor’s origins, and his people. It worked very, very well.

I’m not sure how else to explain this, and I don’t want it come off as being anything other than a review of a comic book film. This movie felt like a 3 hour tribute to Chadwick Boseman, not the next chapter in the story of Wakanda. And I’m not gonna show my kids the movie because it will be boring for them.

[wikibutch]

Hello WikiButch,

Recently, I have been avidly following your page. For the most part, I have loved it. However, at some times, I have also hated it severely. Here are a few things I think could change for the better, from someone who enjoys seeing your updates and thoughts:

Your blog has a very boring theme. While I love purple, dusty purple colors are highly overrated, and I think your blog could use a new theme to spice it up. To find new themes, I would recommend going into the #themes tag and picking one that suits you. That's how I found mine!

There are many text posts on your blog. While I understand it's nice to have your words heard by others, I would recommend you be more mindful of your followers who cannot read. As such, with every text post I would recommend you post an image to contextualize your words. This way, your blog would read similarly to a picture book.

You seem to love reblogging art. As much as it is sometimes interesting and intriguing to see, it also starts to hurt my eyes after looking for too long. There tends to be many colors, and as much as I am a fan of colors, colors can also be the cause of blindness, nearsightedness, farsightedness, fatigue, anxiety, and in extreme cases, death (traffic accidents from traffic lights). For this, I would like to see it toned down. Perhaps you could include a filter over your blog that blocks harmful UV rays?

In addition to the harmful colors, as I scrolled through your blog I saw an incredibly scary image of the devil. I am not a fan of the devil and in fact am an avid hater (Christian) of him. Please be wary, as posting and reposting images of him will affect your future.

There is one person I see a lot who looks strange. His name is Gerard Way, and whenever I see him I am forced to do a double take. Sometimes he wears strange clothes, like nurse outfits and babushka headscarves. I personally do not agree with this; the nurse outfit is one of great importance and should not be casually disrespected. What relevance does this person hold to your heart? Please get back ASAP on this matter.

I see a lot of things about lesbians, especially butch lesbians. While I am an ally to lesbians of all kinds, I was once injured greatly in a car accident in which my friend's mom hit me with her car. She apparently hit me because my friend's mom's mom was a lesbian, and she was lost in thought as she hit the gas. Because of this, seeing lesbians often can revive harmful memories of being flooed. As the world's second worst lesbian, I am curious if you know anything about the incident.

I was told once that you live in a city that begins with D and ends with T. I am an enormous fan of your blog, and would thus recommend leaving the city. Within the next year, I predict a terrorist named Maddy will strike, and all Asian citizens of that city will have to flee anyway.

You seem to be a fan of the famous video game DeltaRune. As someone who works on the DeltaRune team, and thus had a character based off of me implemented, I would recommend you stop following the development of DeltaRune, as the next chapter explores the cast's reaction to the death of the Queen.

You will regret not finishing the game Disco Elysium. In about a week, they will remove all copies of the game from everyone's hard drives, and the only way to see the endings is on YouTube.

Sometime, I worry you know too much. I sit in the back of my car, hiding from the police, and I open my phone. I look at your blog, and with tears in my eyes, I see "2 year old im babysitting refuses to go to bed until she watches i love lucy". I do not know if you realize this, but Lucy was the name of my late wife. Please never say that name again.

These are the ten commandments I propose to you. I hope to see change for the better instead of for the worse. Please think carefully after reading this; these words are pulled from the deepest depths of my heart, and will determine the course of your future.

Accordingly, a fan.

‎

‎‎‎

look behing you . that's me

[thegenvyisreal]

Good Omens Season 2 Episode 2 Thoughts

"it's technically my bookshop, but we both get plenty of use out of it don't we? *raises eyebrows*" EXCUSE ME AZIRAPHALE WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN!!!!

I kinda love Jim??? I don't want to but I kinda do???

Okay listen. LISTEN. That miracle had the power of an archangel. I'm just! Lemme just! I'm sorry! Maybe I'm shifting into clown mode but I THINK this may mean that Crowley is more powerful than he lets on, that MAYBE he was an archangel before everything. (okay maybe I'm a Raphael truther let me live)

The whole Job plot was *chefs kiss*. I wasn't expecting Five to be there lol that was fun. And Ty!!! Gayest teen I've ever SEEN. I LOVE Zira going apeshit over the food.

And the two of them in that whole sequence! All the Job parts. Zira thinking he's fallen, Crowley wanting to save all life ever. I just!! Crowley is the GOODEST!!

Poor Nina and her (abusive?) partner. I hope she kicks her to the curb and stands up for herself.

Jim revealing that one phrase from Job's experience when Crowley EMPHATICALLY demands it. How come it worked for Crowley but not Zira? (I'M SORRY I'M BEING A CLOWN FOR RAPHAEL!CROWLEY)

Jim being "my head isn't big enough for all that anymore"??? Is he human now??? What made him this way??? Did God do it for trying to murder another angel???

Ooh! Theory of what was in the box! Gabriel's memories! And when Zira opened the box they all flew out! Idk!!

Still can't figure out why that one jukebox is converting those songs the way the Bentley converts everything to queen. And why Jim is singing it.

I liked the good omens book cameo! And ofc there was Terry's hat last episode!

THERE'S TOO MUCH IN MY BRAIN RN MUCH LIKE JIM

EDIT!:

I had a thought about EVERY (the leak). Do not scroll further if you don't wanna be spoiled about that rn.

SO. My roommate watched it and was catatonic and gave me some vague info about the end and I'm like OH. SHIT. So here's my depressing prediction. I love angst so this would feed me for months.

It's a cliffhanger. Heaven and/or hell find out that our duo has been hiding Gabriel. ONE of them is going to be erased from all existence. (maybe both idk) Crowley, realizing this is the last chance he'll ever get, grabs Aziraphale and kisses him, and there's a big confession scene and it's SO FUCKING EMOTIONAL THIS IS WHY NEIL WANTS US TO REACT TO THE VERY LAST 15 MINUTES. And then one of them is erased, and the other forgets about them completely, and is now back working for their original side, and it's SO FUCKING SAD. Gdi I need this but also DO NOT GIVE IT TO ME I WILL DIE.