#now while this is me specifically about Shakespeare that’s because I’m a loser

[transannabeth]

every day i think about plays using their audience to highlight story beats and themes and i have to lay down

[revolution-john]

My Childhood Trauma PTSD as Triggered by the Following Movie Montage

by BENJAMIN DREVLOW

That scene in American History X. You know the one. Or maybe it was Higher Learning, I always get those confused. That curb stomp scene always reminding me of the time I tripped and face-planted in the barn while corralling bull calves, to get castrated, my two front teeth chomping down on all that jagged concrete and manure, it adds a different flavor to the recurring nightmare I have, though in my case, usually nothing to do with race relations. I wonder if everybody else who watched that movie also missed the whole point of it. Except the Curb Stomp. Everybody remembers where they were when their stoner friend with big ideas about ending racism across the world made them watch the movie with the Curb Stomp.

~

Mel Gibson getting drawn and quartered in Braveheart. You may take our lives, but you will never take… our… FREE-DOM!

~

Mel Gibson ripping his shoulder out of its socket in Lethal Weapon.

~

Mel Gibson torturing the shit out of Jesus, then blaming the women and Jews for everything, including his drunk-driving and plummeting career options.

~

Fuck pretty much any Mel Gibson movie. Except maybe that one with him and James Gardner and Jody Foster and all their comedy hijinks. It’s the gambler one but not The Gambler. But now that I think about it, isn’t Jody Foster a big Mel Gibson apologist? So I guess fuck that movie too.

~

Any movie where somebody gets shot or stabbed or thumbed in the eyeball or has one or both of their eyeballs squeezed or ripped out, which always reminds me of that time I got elbowed right below my eye but also on the eyeball and it literally pushed in my eyeball a millimeter and I still get double vision to this day whenever I line up a shot playing pool or line up a screw to hang a photo on the wall or sometimes re-hang the toilet paper dispenser next to the toilet. I’d been playing pickup basketball and my buddy who was like four inches taller than me elbowed me on a rebound and like I say I went down and lay there on my back and then all the blood started pooling in my eye socket and I couldn’t see anything and my friend couldn’t see my eyeball and he kept hissing through his teeth grossed out by it but then telling me it would okay and the whole time lying there thinking I’m thinking about my eyeball I’m thinking of the scene in Any Given Sunday where the guy’s eyeball is just lying there on the football field. I’m thinking of that closeup all the way to the hospital when they unwrap the mummy gauze from around my head and the ER doctor breathes a sigh of relief after peeling off all the dried blood to reveal that I needed fifteen stitches and I’d broken my orbital bone, but I still had my eye.

~

Any movie where somebody’s sitting there reading a book before bed, watching TV, gossiping with girlfriends, when the camera pulls back only to zoom back in on the dark night window behind them—cue the string section.

~

If I had to choose one, I’m thinking of that one zombie movie, something 28 Days something but not the one about Sandra Bullock finding love with Viggo in rehab. It’s not even about the zombies. It’s about the dark night window, not to be confused with the Dark Knight window, sorry that was a shitty pun for no good reason whatsoever, but also maybe not completely random with the guy from 28 Days also having played the scarecrow in Batman Begins where he sprays people with a drug and makes them see their worst fears, which never really did it for me, at least not like the secluded house with the zombies lurking around. I grew up in a big old farmhouse out in the barrens of northern Wisconsin. Lots of windows, no shades. In so many ways I grew up in the dark. It wasn’t the zombies I worried about. It was the methheads. Which, sure, I guess if you’re getting technical about it, same thing, fine, you win, I’m scared of zombies.

~

The Zapruder film, but as replayed by Kevin Costner in Oliver Stone’s fever dream of a conspiracy theory. The magic bullet, back and to the left, back and to the left, back and to the left. How it gets stuck in my head, JFK’s exploding head replaced with my brother’s exploding head, sometimes my own, except unlike my brother and JFK, my head’s still mostly intact. Back and to the left, back and to the left. Sometimes I think about that too with that one Seinfeld episode with Keith Hernandez and the magic loogie, but usually the loogie gets replaced with a bullet and Kramer’s head gets replaced with my brother, mine, back and to the left.

~

The sound of the gun shots in the final scene of that Tom Hanks movie where he plays himself again, a good guy, a family guy, a sly sense of humor, but this time a mob hitman with a strained relationship with his oldest son. The look on Tom Hanks’ face walking back to the house from the ocean—having survived it all, the hit that his old mob boss Paul Newman had put out on him for putting a hit on his old mob boss’s son as played by James Bond who also played Ted Hughes in that movie about Sylvia Plath killing herself. But this is past all that, it’s the happy ending. They’re on beach somewhere, white sand, somebody’s house that Tom Hanks and his kid are going to live in now. The silence before and after. Jude Law! It’s Jude Law’s face, his eye all fucked up, how did it happen, I don’t really remember the specifics but I remember the specifics. Bang, bang, bang. I think it might’ve had something to do with Jude Law being a photographer, like one of those where you pose with your kid or something or say you get promoted to head CEO or godfather of the family. Smile. Click, click, except in this case with a gun.

~

The gunshot at the end of American Beauty, pretty much the same thing, different movie. Chris Cooper confusing Kevin Spacey as gay but before Kevin Spacey actually came out as gay and a sexual predator. Not that the latter necessarily had anything to do with the former. Neither in the movie nor real life, well not really, but sorta. You get the point.

~

Jared Leto as Angel Face getting his face smashed in by Ed Norton as Brad Pitt as Tyler Durden’s split personality in Fight Club. Not so much Jared Leto, but the wet mushy sounds of it. That part on the audio commentary where Chuck Palahniuk and David Fincher defend the violence of the movie, Fincher pointing out that he was not glorifying violence, he was making it realistic. That’s what it sounds like to punch your opponent into the concrete, Fincher says and Palahniuk laughs and agrees. Don’t worry I’m not going to make any puns about the first rule of fight club.

~

That part of that one weird depressing Robin Williams’s movie where Robin Williams’s kids get killed in a car accident while backing out of the driveway on the way to school. The one where Robin Williams later on gets plowed over by a truck going the wrong way while Robin Williams is out trying to help another couple who’d been injured in a different car accident, but before all that his wife kills herself because she can’t take it and then Robin Williams goes to the suicide afterlife to save her. But then there’s fucking Cuba Gooding Jr. who—spoiler alert—turns out to be the ghost/angel of his dead son who then explains to Robin Williams that his wife/Cuba’s mother can’t be saved because she killed herself. It doesn’t matter that she had a pretty fucking good reason too, she’s still stuck face down floating around in that black swamp of bodies of everybody else’s killed themselves and nobody’s getting to heaven. That shit really messed me up—not the car accidents, but the afterlife for selfish losers like me who kill themselves. And/or my brother.

~

The bulging vein in Tom Cruise’s head from Magnolia. Respect the Cock and Tame the Pussy, Respect the Cock and Tame the Pussy. I think probably my therapist would have some thoughts about all this, and some questions. Questions and thoughts.

~

That one version of A Christmas Carol where the Ghost of Christmas Past undoes his robe to show off the alien children living under his robe.

~

I got the worst set of blue balls you could imagine while taking my best friend’s girlfriend to Baz Lurman’s remake of Romeo and Juliet. That Romeo and Juliet. I missed most of it, I kept having to go to the bathroom to masturbate in agony and to no avail. Leo and Claire Danes are hot and heavy on an acid trip, and every time my best friend’s girlfriend reaches for a handful of popcorn she makes sure to wipe the butter off on the inside of my upper thigh. This is what I get for being the good guy of falling on the grenade for my best friend, the grenade in this case being Shakespeare and my best friend’s hatred of literature.

~

Mark Wahlberg’s flaccid rotten dick in Boogie Nights.

~

The Secret of the Crying Game but not in a transphobic way. No, it’s the smallness of it what got me back when I watched it as a teenager. The tenderness. The growing tent in my pants at its sudden appearance on the screen. Maybe you don’t believe me but I was a naïve podunk kid from off the farm. I didn’t have cable. I didn’t have access to the internet. His/her (now their) secret opened up a lot of questions for me. I often dream of dressing up in drag and someone sucking my little bitty dick and if that makes me a little bit gay or maybe bi or what’s it called, body dysmorphic. I mean I guess it doesn’t matter anymore, it’s the new millennium, we’re all a bit sexually confused aren’t we?

~

This one porno my friends and I watched at somebody’s uncle’s cabin up in the U.P. for a three-on-three basketball tournament. The Snapping Pussy. The sound her vagina made, like somebody really dramatic at clicking their tongue and slurping a half-empty malt the same time. The scene of us boys all sitting there with our boners watching a porn and wanting to masturbate but not because we were all boys and we were afraid we’d be gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a little bit gay.

~

There was this made-for-TV movie, me six years old and home alone while my big brother, supposed who’d to’ve been baby-sitting me, the only time he ever babysat me that I can remember, maybe because his one time—that time—he didn’t actually babysit me. He went out to a party, while I watched the made-for-tv movie about some kid who’d watched his mother get murdered, and then goes mute, keeps drawing these pictures of Peter Pan and Captain Hook. The kid’s grandfather, one of those big hooks, like the one in I Know What You Did Last Summer, but this was long before that, though I’m not sure it was before the book. Did you know that there was a book I Know What You Did Last Summer? I mean this isn’t about the book or the movie, this is about that kid whose grandfather had molested his daughter for years and then as an adult gutted her with a fishhook and then how he’d then come back to finish the job with his mute grandkid, I don’t know how this movie ever got green-lighted (green-lit?) for TV, but then it’s weird to even think about those made-for-tv movies and if they actually existed or if I’m just making this whole thing up, but then my brother, we had a walk-in basement at the time, this being before I’d accidently burned that house down with two space heaters stolen from the barn, before my brother’d killed himself, he’d come back late, or probably it was only eight or nine, but I was young and alone out in the woods where we lived, and he’d come back through the basement, which was attached to the family room, where I’d been watching and then all of a sudden that kid on TV was being stocked by his granddad with a fish hook and the door to the basement was opening, and for god knows why I’d turned off all the lights to watch the scary movie by myself, and it turns out it was just my brother who’d go on to kill himself in like a year, maybe six months, and he was just playing a little prank on me, or maybe he’d just come through the basement for some reason, he was always hanging out down there and tinkering around with things, but in my mind, I can remember that exact look on his face, that smirk, even in the dark, the light from the television in a blacked-out room, a blacked out house, reflecting off those pop-bottle glasses of his, the shiny too-big-for-his-face silver frames. My mother always tells me I should try to remember the happy times I had with my brother, and honestly, I can’t, I can only remember that smirk, those glasses, the handle turning a moment before he appeared.

~

Any and all sequels where it turns out that the dead character didn’t actually die at all, or maybe it’s magic, or maybe there’s time travel.

~

Any happy ending ever.

~

Every ending in my worst nightmares involves everyone I’ve ever loved or hated, their faces turning to snake faces. Snakeheads, snake arms, snake butts. Snakes snakes snakes. They slip out of their clothes and come up from under my bed, slither under my covers. They bite me, they kiss me, poison me, they consume me whole and regurgitate my bones. That’s how they always end. Me dead and abandoned.

~

That scene in the first Indiana Jones with Indiana Jones and getting trapped in the cave with all the snakes. I hate snakes. All my worst nightmares turn to snakes. Fuck snakes. This all might have something to do with my undersized penis. If you want to go down that path. The Secret of My Crying Game.

~

Has Mel Gibson ever made a movie with snakes? I don’t know, you tell me, but fuck that movie if he did. Mel Gibson is snakey enough on his own.

~

BENJAMIN DREVLOW is the author of Bend With the Knees and Other Love Advice from My Father, which won the 2006 Many Voices Project, and the author of Ina-Baby: A Love Story in Reverse, which was  released by Cowboy Jamboree Books in 2019.  Buy his books here. He is currently at work on a novel, a novella, and a collection of story-poems. He serves as the Managing Editor of BULL Magazine (@BULL_magazine_) and is a lecturer at Georgia Southern University in Statesboro, Georgia.

[angclhyunjin]

of light and verse | jaebum

desc: you literally end up falling for the boy who sits at the back of your uber hard lit class. college!jaebum litmajor!jaebum. all the fluff. just super fluffy

word count: 1.913

requested by: @jaebums-sunshine​ [Jaebum college au/domestic au fluff!]

note: i wrote this at lit 4am but ummm my love as a lit major was too cute to pass up

oh my god ok COLLEGE JAEBUM

setting my heart on fire at the thought of my lit nerd headcanon for him

lets get into it!

so its freshman year and ur walking into your first lit class, a bit intimidated bc its like,, a course no first year dared to touch but u just wanted a cool sounding course so bad u jumped at the opportunity

its GREEK MYTHOLOGY!! who wud not hello

and ur excited until the professor opens her mouth

and ur blown away by how,,,,,,, interesting and riveting the whole thing is but shit is it going to be this hard throughout??

the first few classes involves you frantically taking notes and trying to keep up w the impossible pace this class is going

but theres this BOY

he sits right at the end while ur in front so u could pass him off as uninterested,,, taking the course for extra creds??? wrong

this BOY quips in between the lecture with the most fascinating comments, connecting the odyssey to so many modern works, to poetry and to music

and ur like,,, who made u,,,, how r u like this

ur kind of annoyed by how smart this boy is

its not like you dont get wtf is happening here, but how can he get it and SO MUCH MORE

and tbh ur kind of jealous but u didnt hear that from me. also he has the softest voice that creeps up behind u and makes ur body stir

wait what

so u work super hard

and like super hard, u finish all ur readings and do ur own research

but u still feel like its not enough

like idk who u think u are, u start living at the library

cup of tea in hand and a book in the other, it sounds optimal but the stress is lowkey making you lose ur mind

ur looking for a book in the aisles, a VERY specific one on sappho’s fragmented poems

and FINALLY u see it............on the top most shelf

ur 5′4″ self is SCREAMING

and u could ask for help but help is for losers

so u make the very intelligent decision to climb the shelves what?? no ones looking

ur almost there when

a hand

reaches at the same time as urs

u almost scream for real this time, shutting ur eyes real tight, letting go of ur meager hold on the shelf and falling back

like u have accepted ur death at this point

until???? wait??? you feel two hands around you and suddenly you’re not falling

“my god, are you okay??” how tf do i know this voice

you open your eyes to be met with the softest brown eyes, framed by these wire glasses

oh

its him

of c o u r s e

u literally dont know what to say until he laughs a little at you (an adorable, light noise that fills you up)

“this is probably not one of your greatest moments” ur cheeks are on FIRE

suddenly he notices his arms are still around u and he hastily places u on ur useless jelly feet

“were you going for the book on sappho? i didn’t know anyone else here knew it existed”

you’re about to stammer out a reply, not really ready to explain to the lit prodigy that ur trying to be at least half as insightful as him but he

squints at u

“wait, aren’t you in my lit class?? you are, aren’t you?”

he REMEMBERS ur invisible ass??? ok??? what doesnt this boy notice?????

u finally find your tongue, stammering out a “y-yeah, i was planning out my paper and needed a second reference”

wow is he lowkey impressed he stares at u for a bit

ur now hyperaware of ur messy bun and glasses, the old t shirt you’d tucked into mom jeans feeling so inadequate in front of him in his stylishly messed up hair n button up,,, how could someone be this pretty at 4pm on a sunday

“honestly, me too. but its okay, you can have this” 

he barely needs to reach up to get this book and ur like, looking at his shoulders as he faces away from u for a split second and man is he built

“are you sure???” you let out in an almost whisper “don’t you need this?”

“nah its okay i read it over the summer already” o yes of course

“i’m jaebum by the way” he smiles at you and ur stomach JUMPs

“i’m y/n” you try, and then blurt out “and also really sorry for this i’m like,, dumb as hell-”

“its no issue, y/n” his voice is HONEY as it says your name and you can feel urself turning redder

“i’ll see you in class then” hes gone as quickly as he arrived and ur still in shock because what the fuck

did that really happen or did u doze off after a caffeine crash again???

so the next day in class u walk in, heading towards your seat when  ur eye catches jaebum’s

and he gives u the BIGGEST SMILE

WHAT AN ANGEL

ur blushing furiously and manage a quick smile back

and thru/o ur so distracted bc u swear u feel his eyes on the back of ur neck but ur also too scared to look bc WOW WHY IS THIS BEAUTIFUL BOY STARING AT ME

so at the end of the class ur throwing all ur books into ur mess of a backpack when u hear a voice 

“so did you end up finishing the book”

its god jaebum, beanie hiding his tousled hair and trademark glasses on his nose

“no i still have some stuff to cover but its fine!! you can have it u want-”

“no, no i was going to suggest we do the paper together?”

is this ,,,, really happening

“i mean, sure” WHY ARE U AGREEING WHY DO U WANT TO DIE

“okay great! i’ll meet you in the library at 4?”

“okay see you then!!” u squeak out and dash

wtf was that

this man did not need ur help, he is a lit GOD

but ur there at 4, a little thankful for the heads up bc u managed to put some semblance of makeup on urself

and he walks in and ur heart is on fire again bc hes so pretty and he’s also so excited to do lit, lit makes this boy

u slowly ease into conversations w him, sappho being taken over by more personal deets

ok first of all, this boy has 5 cats

5

he shows u pictures of all of them, names and all, like a mom showing off her children

ur heart is so so full of this endearing boy

you keep meeting thru the rest of the week

on tuesday, he asks you ur favorite color

on wednesday, he convinces u to tell him ur favorite memory

on thursday, you tell him how vanilla ice cream is everything to you but u cant stand strawberry

on friday, he asks u for ur number

on saturday, he randomly texts you 6 pictures of his cat sitting on two legs

on saturday, you realize u have fallen for the boy at the back of ur lit class

u dont know what to do

this boy is so so dumb at heart but can also recite all of shakespeare’s sonnets by heart

like hes the cutest idiot u have ever seen

and ur falling super hard for him

ur friendship goes strong for a while

gradually u blush less frequently and get comfortable w him, going over to his place at times

the first time u go (for lit probably) he opens the door and ur greeted w the smell of disaster

like really it smells super bad

and hes frantic and panicky bc “i didn’t know how hard cooking was the tomato sauce is all burnt what did i do”

poor perfect boi is bad at cooking???

even surrounded w smoke and in a dirty apron he looks ADORABLE

and ur laughing and taking the saucepan off the stove for him, throwing his failure out and suggesting u just get some chinese

and he agrees w a sigh and ur like ur so dumb

and no ur definitely not trying to think abt how he wanted to cook for u

when u call him over u make spaghetti

red sauce

“wow so ur really out here triggering me like this”

“is it my fault ur an idiot sandwich”

“w o w”

he probably pouted and u probably made fun of it tho ur heart was crying 

so it goes on like this for a while

and ur always wondering ‘does this boy even like me like that’ bc he out here giving u so many signals but never making the move

like ur ass is never sure if he’s into u or just being nice

bc lets face it - im jaebum is the definition of nice

and its honestly getting kind of annoying

like pls tell me if u like me my heart cant take it much longer

u guys are at his, doing ur readings

you glance to the side and see jaebum reading intently, eyes flying over the words, relaxed and so sweet, a ray of light from the window falling on him and making his eyes radiate a dark brown

you dont even notice how long you’ve been staring until u hear his voice

“hello what r u doing”

fuck

“nothing! just,,,, you looked really pretty with the light falling on ur face. no i mean, look!! like, you’re pretty”

OK

WHAT

did u JUST 

SAY THAT

"not that that means you’re not pretty at other times!! i mean,,, you’re pretty all the time and its honestly really crazy” WHY ARE U STILL TALKING

hes just.... staring at u in wonder

and ur lik e wow this is it, this is when the ground acc swallows me up and i die

when his face breaks into this beautiful smile

“you think i’m pretty?”

his voice is so soft and pure

u r, on the other hand, about to collapse from embarrassment

and just nod and its like the day in the library all over

and he’s still smiling when he says “y/n, i think you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen”

your stomach SWOOPS

IS THIS REAL LIFE

“i’ve wanted to say that for the longest time” he breathes and you notice just how close he is

“thats just,, i mean wow i didn’t know...” u manage to say

he leans in a little closer and his hands r burning a hole resting on ur thighs

the light is very brilliant as his head dips lower, breath on ur lips until he fills the gap between you

and im jaebum is kissing you

you barely remember to respond, but when you do, he leaves light kisses on ur lower lip, hand coming up to cup ur cheek 

ur entire body is on fire as he draws you closer, your hands going into his hair and feeling for the first time how soft it was 

wow u had really dreamed about this huh

he draws back a little bit, face incredibly close to yours and asks u “is this okay?”

,,,,,,,boi

“more than okay, this is perfect” you press him closer and all else is forgotten

send in requests!

[dionysuswearsanorangetracksuit]

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child parts one and two were........... pretty much simultaneously the worst and best thing I have ever seen.

I’m not going to centre on plot because we all Know thats a fuckin shitshow but here:

• I really enjoyed Alex Price’s performance as Draco and the scene where he tells Scorpius they can hug too if he wants was absolutely adorable. Scorpius literally LEAPT into his arms and was hanging off the ground he was so eager to hug him and then they hugged three more times during the subsequent scene just because Scorpius was sooo excited to be able to hug his dad. Alex makes Draco’s love for Astoria and Scorpius so evident and I’m really glad I got to see him portraying Draco’s redemption arc that we all deserved.

• I actually didn’t mind Paul Thornley as Ron. His characterization was a lot more like movie Ron than book Ron and I’d have liked to have some elements concerning Ron as more than just comedic relief but he delivered all his lines really well and was fiercely protective of and loving with Hermione which added some depth to the character- if not as much as I would have liked. I did really like the implication that Ron takes care of the children far more than Hermione does since he was always the carer in their relationship (I also like the line that informs us that Harry is the one who cooks more than Ginny. You know my boys are out here absolutely DESTROYING toxic male mentality and doing it like true bamfs)

• Poppy Miller was very powerful as Ginny and I really enjoyed the vulnerability she portrayed while revisiting the memory of being possessed by Voldemort. Her banter with Paul was fabulous and you could really tell they were siblings and her motherly concern about Albus and love for Harry was so strong and unwavering. Book Ginny would be proud.

• Noma Dumezweni was exceptional as Hermione and I truly believed in the growth that happened in the twenty or so years between the end of the books and before the show begins. She was as level headed, intelligent, determined and rash as Hermione always is and her voice was gorgeous and so clear and crisp and clean. I could honestly write pages on pages about her diction and projection and prononciation and articulation- you can really see the training that went into every single aspect of her performance.... I think I’m in love

• The scene in the library between Albus (Sam Clemmett) and Scorpius (Anthony Boyle) was more heartbreaking to me than the stair ballet. They were just struggling sooo hard to communicate with each other and get over the frustration they felt at their fathers and their situation that they were misplacing as frustration at each other and Anthony was so incredibly fragile when he started talking about his mom. He just broke when Albus said he hadn’t been a loser before he met scorpius. And I loved that he didn’t give Albus an easy out. Sam played the guilt and shame he felt at hurting his best friend very very well and his apology was stumbling and awkward but so so genuine.

• There was this really sweet moment between Scorpius and Albus right before they try to trap Delphi in the church where Scorpius sort of touched the side of Albus’s face and then stroked his hair. They didn’t say anything but it looked like they were telling each other to be careful and I could really feel the friendship and love coming off them. The dreaded act 4 scene whatever the fuck it is is still there but it honestly feels like it’s a lot more about Scorpius and Albus than it is about Rose and Anthony played Scorpius’s failure at being full of swag magnificently. Their hug after she leaves was also really awkward but cute and I loved it so much!! :)

• Sam in general was just very adorable and I literally died anytime he put on this one specific grey sweater that engulfed him and gave him sweater paws and he held himself in a sort of unsure, awkward stance picking at the sleeves with his messed up hair and this is literally the reason why some part of me is still straight.

• I’m also almost a hundred percent sure Anthony has some sort of Shakespeare training because there were times he would speak so powerfully I saw spit literally FLYING across the stage. He had to play so many emotions and I can’t imagine how draining this show must be for him but he keeps his energy up the entire goddamn time and I swear if he isn’t the most badass person onstage I don’t know who is.

• The standout for me was really Jamie Parker. He just portrayed Harry with such depth and realness; I could really feel the conflict and the fear and the uncertainty deep deep inside him and it was sooo impactful. When he called out Dumbledore for abandoning him to the Dursleys for 17 years I really felt his pain and sense of betrayal. When his son was taken he broke down and it was almost like he was a child again seeing Sirius die before his eyes. His attempts to connect with Albus were so well meaning and he looked so small and lost and it just really made me realize how much Harry missed out on. Good parents, a good childhood, adults who cared for him as Harry and not ‘The boy who lived’. I will still never forgive the line about Harry wishing Albus wasn’t his son, I do not believe it’s something Harry James Potter would ever say.... But Jamie really was one of my favourite parts of the entire show.

• One of the best scenes by far was when Albus, Delphi and Scorpius took poly juice potion and transformed into Harry Ron and Hermione. Noma, Jamie and Paul were hilarious and i really liked seeing their take on the characters and them just acting like goofy teenagers/young adults. It was really really funny

• The tricks of theatre and the poly juice transformation and the magic fights and the moving staircases were definitely the best part of the entire show. It was fucking IMPRESSIVE as all hell!!! The transportation into the ministry was done by having someone disappear through a trap door while their cloak was sucked into the phone booth. For the underwater scene Albus and Scorpius were on wires and bathed in blue light. Moaning Myrtle’s costuming was really good and she looked like a literal actual ghost. The aesthetics and the props and the costuming and the choreography was my favourite part of the entire show it felt like actual magic OH MY LORD it almost (almost) made up for the shit writing

• Oh! Dumbledore was also a lot more like Richard Harris than Michael Gambdon and my soul is now soothed ™

[kaunis-sielu]

Biker Boss: 3

“It’s not possible.” Natasha argues, “Stark will never forgive Barnes for killing his parents. Specifically his mom.”

“But if we can prove that Hydra tricked him-“ you muse. According to Natasha Hydra had tricked Bucky into thinking that Tony Stark’s parents were some Irons on their way to kill him, his sister and Steve Rogers. This turned out, horrifically, to not be true but instead caused a huge rift and a massive fight between the Irons, Dora Milaje and Howlies. All started by Hydra to make it easier for them to take over more territory. Your father had bartered an uneasy truce between the three gangs but every now and then there was a scuffle.

“How do you plan on proving that?” Natasha asks, leaning back in her chair, arms crossed across her chest.

“I don’t know, there’s got to be a way. I’m going to have to look through my dad’s papers and see what I can find.”

“That’s a good idea.” T’Challa says, “If the threat of Thanos is as dangerous and serious as Gamora says it’s going to be we need to be united.”

“I trust her judgement. I’ve also done some research on Thanos and Hydra and if you think you can be ruthless he’s worse. He’s been in power for so long because he demands absolute loyalty. Gamora and Nebula told me that he used to make them fight one another, the loser would be beaten and starved for up to a week. These are his own children, when they were children.”

“We need to figure something out, and fast because the Howlies and the Irons are going to be making their way here to make their condolences. You need to be prepared.” Natasha continues, T’Challa has been less vocal but you can see the concern on his face. Quill comes bursting into the room, causing all three of you to reach for your weapons.

“Sorry boss. Someone just rolled up, black bands on their arms. Rocket and Groot are going out to meet them now.”

“Any idea who they are?” You ask standing and heading for the door.

“I think it’s the Howlies.” Natasha stands and joins you at the bulletproof glass window.

“That’s Rogers and Barnes.” She confirms. “I’ll go greet them.”

“Thank you. Nebula go with her.” You want to have one of your people out there.

“I need to go. I’ll make contact with Stark and Rhodes tomorrow.” T’Challa tells you gripping your hand with both of his. “When my father died yours gave me some advice I’d like to pass along to you if he hadn’t. Being a leader means that you are always prepared for war while working for peace.”

“Thank you T’Challa. I’m glad that you and the Dora Milaje are willing to sign another peace treaty with with us. My fathers legacy is a relatively peaceful one and that’s something I plan to continue.”

“I wish you luck. I’ll be in touch.” You hear him greet Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes as he leaves. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, bikers weren’t always the easiest to deal with and your nerves are already frayed. You’re pouring two new glasses of whiskey when they come in.

“Hope he’s not a hard ass.” One of them says lowly, “We could up some of our distribution numbers if he’s like his father.” You’re getting the impression that they don’t know you’re the new boss.

“Drinks?” You ask as you turn, a glass in each hand. The two men in front of you are gorgeous. Straight up the most attractive men you’ve ever seen in person. The one on the left has shoulder length brown hair, bright blue eyes, a neatly trimmed beard and several weapons. His companion has lighter and shorter brown hair, green flecked blue eyes and his own neatly trimmed beard. He only carries one visible weapon, a knife at his hip.

“Thank you ma’am.” The second man says taking his drink from you, his friend nods in agreement. “When’s your boss gonna be joining us?”

“My boss is dead, died about a week ago.”

“You’re the new boss?” The long haired man asks with a smirk, “A little thing like you?” Before either man can move you’ve got a knife at his throat and a gun pointed at the head of his companion.

“Shakespeare once said, ‘She may be but little but she is fierce.’ My Dad always said that quote fit me like it was written for me.”

“Our apologies.” The one whose at the business end of your gun says. “Buck didn’t mean to offend you, we just weren’t prepared for you to be the new boss.” So apparently he’s Steve Rogers, and the one with the long hair is Bucky. You lower both of your weapons and tuck them away.

“It’s fine. You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last.” You sit down again and motion for the two men to do the same. “I’d like to write a new treaty with you. My dad always spoke highly of your family and your gang. We’ve always had a good relationship with the Howlies, I’d like to continue to keep that relationship.”

“We would too.” Steve agrees, “As Bucky said we’d like to work with you to expand our product, as well as our protection.”

“Send a proposal.”

“Of course.” Steve nods, “We’re sorry to hear about your father.”

“Thank you.”

“Why haven’t I ever met you?” He asks and Bucky’s brows slowly raise.

“I think my father had hoped I’d be married before he died. Not that he was opposed to a woman taking over the family business but he’d liked to have had a son-in-law to do the actual dirty work.” He gives you a little smile and you know in that instant he’s gonna be trouble.

“Boss.” Nebula beckons you from the door.

“Excuse me.” You stand and, knowing their eyes are on you, sway your hips more than necessary as you make your way to the door.

“What’s wrong?”

“Thanos. He knows about your father and he’s coming.”

[toomanyfeelings5]

the rotten job, part 1

get pumped for a gay shakespeare leverage au from someone who’s never seen leverage. how niche is this? impossible to tell.

all the titles for these little bits are from the mountain goats’ album beat the champ. 

major shout-out to @ophelia-thinks for coming up with this wacky au idea.

here it is, below the cut: 

1. “foreign object”

“shit--fuck--”

kate breaks his nose.

guard #10--tall, lithe, baggy uniform, the shade of blond that calls to mind hospital lights--manages, “go to hell.”  

she smiles, blood in her mouth. spits it onto the cold concrete floor. the iron taste lingers. “you gonna tell me where mrs. regina goldfeather iii is being held?” 

more muffled cursing. jesus, this guy’s a real mumbler. she reaches up to squeeze his neck, just a little. leans in real close. her noise wrinkles at the axe body spray. “did you hear me? or am i going to have to repeat myself?”

finally, after he flinches, adam’s apple bobbing under her palm, voice thick: “down the hall, make a left. last door on the right.”

“there.” kate knocks him out--easy, really, when they’re this close. “was that so hard?”

“minola,” her earpiece crackles, nasally voice low and grating in the static. “get a move on. we don’t have time for this--”

“h,” kate huffs as she jogs down the hallway, ankle throbbing, right eye swelling shut. “c’mon. i’m a professional.”

“you keep saying that, and yet--”

“and yet you need to shut the hell up. i need to find the holding cell.”

there’s breathing of some sort cutting into her ear--horatio is an expert in long-suffering sighs--and after a few minutes of breathing hard, of sweat dripping down her back, of coughing up god knows what, kate gets to the door. 

“fuck you,” she tells the door, and kicks it wide open. 

the room is tiny and dirty, with one cracked lamp flickering from the ceiling, dust floating in the air, rusted file cabinets lining the walls. there are three men and two women unconscious on the ground.

none of that matters. 

kate grins wide, front tooth chipped, voice hoarse. “i win.”

portia rolls her eyes as she finishes untying herself. “bless your heart. this was all me.” 

“how d’you think we’re getting out, hm? the guards didn’t neutralize themselves, sweetheart.”

“we’re not undercover anymore.” portia fixes her wig, fake red ringlets spilling behind her in graceful arcs. “you don’t have to call me that.”

kate shrugs, ignoring the protest of her bruised shoulder. “regardless, darling, you have to admit that i saved your sorry ass. that’s....what, twenty to nineteen?”

“no, you--” portia’s round face changes, frowns slightly. she’s such a sore fucking loser. “next time, you’re the one who’s going to need saving--”

“ladies,” horatio snaps into their earpieces. “we are on a schedule here. i can’t break into their databases if i don’t know what i’m looking for. you have the intel, you get out and get to the safe-house. now.” 

“of course,” portia says, slipping into her real voice, new yorker drawl back in place. “we’ll be perfectly punctual. won’t we, mrs. pauline goldfeather?” 

kate raises an eyebrow. “yes,” she says, and refuses to break eye contact. it’s been a long two weeks of pretending to sip wine, of getting government gossip out of marcellus’s cousin, of showing off her stolen diamond ring, of holding hands and linking arms and selling every last piece of it. stuff like that was portia’s thing, usually. kate’s never been any good at it. she had really tried, once, to be what her father wanted her to be, to be what her husband wanted her to be. still. she had smiled when their bodies were lowered into the ground. car accident on the way to a men’s rights protest. in the end, she’d had the last fucking laugh.  

it’s been good to finally break some knee caps.  

kate glances at portia’s lipstick, bright red, designed to attract attention, to distract form the cold and merciless glint in her eyes. 

every last piece. kate shakes her head. it’s strange to know what your co-worker tastes like. “let’s go.”

2. “animal mask”

it’s 11:30am in the 24-hour diner on a friday. traffic had been shit, as usual. the service is slow, as usual. the music is too loud, as usual. nerissa is late, as usual.

“sorry,” she says, not sounding very sorry at all. as usual. “work ran later than i thought.”

“it always does.”

“yeah, yeah. you order for me?”

portia raises an eyebrow. “turkey BLT on rye, no mayo, extra bacon.”

nerissa nearly cackles. “i’ve got you trained.”

“you wish.”

they get their coffees. there’s a couple of families seated near them--a baby’s giggles pierce through the top 40, an old woman chides a kid who must be her grandson about the way he holds his fork. there’s a lot of chatter about work, the kids, the new apartment, the news. 

portia stirs in cream. “can you help us?” 

nerissa grabs another sugar packet. “with what? espionage? smuggling drugs? identity theft? murder? world domination?”

“world domination, definitely,” portia says, smiling despite herself. 

“excellent. you’ll pay me my fee, right?”

“of course.”

“good.” nerissa sips her coffee, sweetened to her liking. “but seriously, what do you need?”

“i need you to look into cases involving nathaniel fortinbras and claudius hansen.”

“those guys? aren’t they the ones who--?”

the waiter brings them their food, uncommonly on time. nerissa immediately starts eating the fries that come with her sandwich, and portia’s glad that her eggs benedict has enough sauce. 

after a while-- “yeah, but i gotta watch the game tonight,” a woman tells her husband, jabbing a finger at her yankees hat-- portia asks, “you know who they are, right? there was that big scandal and everything?”

“yeah,” nerissa says with her mouth full. “yeah, i remember our office had bets going on whether or not they could all get away with it. huge legal fallout. i got fifty bucks out of it though.”

“mhm.” portia wipes her mouth with the cheap napkin. “look into him, bother your lawyer coworkers about it, dig up whatever you can. i’ll let you know specifics over email.”

“right, yeah. the super secret one.”

“yes, that.”

“god, you were always a bit shady--don’t give me that look, you know it’s true--but this is next-level.” nerissa laughs incredulously. “portia the vigilante. never thought i’d see the day.”

portia sighs. she can’t believe it either, on most days. every morning, she looks at herself in the mirror, and every morning she can never quite recognize the face that stares back at her. she picks at her eggs. “i can’t--after what happened...you know i had to start over.”

nerissa nods. she stops bouncing her leg. “yeah,” she says, brown eyes softening. “yeah, i get it. well, i don’t get it, i have no idea what you’re up to half the time, but. you know what i mean.”

portia smiles. “i know.”

after a moment, nerissa takes a bite out of her BLT and smirks in that terribly smug, familiar way of hers. portia braces herself as she asks, “so what’s up with you and minola?”

portia chews on her ham before saying flatly, “haven’t been in touch with her recently. last i knew she was visiting her sister. so i suppose...nothing much. it’s the same as it’s been.”

nerissa laughs hard enough that lettuce flies out of her mouth. portia tries very hard not to notice. her father had always demanded perfect manners. 

“bullshit,” nerissa all but commands. “you guys have hooked up at least, right? like, i’m not crazy about this, am i?”

portia carefully swallows her piece of egg. “...there was this one job last month--infiltration at a number of high-profile galas and fundraisers, we needed some intel--and we....minola and i were undercover as an influential married couple, and--”

“you’re shitting me.”

“no, i’m not joking. we needed to do that in order to get closer to fortinbras’s people. he’s looking to widen his donor base for corporate funds, wants to pretend to be more inclusive--”

“yeah, but you’ve been friends with benefits before that. why haven’t you just asked her out already?”

portia gives her a look, and barely stops a smile from creeping across her mouth. it’s a relief, in the end, to shed masks, to talk as herself. or, at least, it’s nice to pretend to be normal. she’s been doing that her whole life. “minola’s my coworker, rissa. and she’s a disaster. she is! she gets into cage fights for fun!” 

“sounds pretty hot to me--”

“oh my god. we are not talking about this anymore. it’s completely casual, not like...never mind. what about you, hm? what about you and celia? don’t think i haven’t seen those instagram photos--”

her phone buzzes.

portia holds up a finger to nerissa’s spluttering and reads: she wants you at the office in 20.

“what?” nerissa asks, eager to change subjects. “what is it?”

“i have to leave.”

“seriously?”

“yes. i’m...i’m sorry.”

portia doesn’t apologize often. 

nerissa nods, because she knows this. “it’s ok, i have to get back to work soon anyway. i’ll look into the stuff you want me to.”

“thank you.”

nerissa shrugs. “what are friends for?”

“yeah, yeah.”

portia promises to pay her back later, slides out of the booth, and glances at the text again: she wants you at the office in 20. 

horatio didn’t need to clarify who she was talking about. with her, everything is always about one person and one person only. 

portia floors the gas in her mercedes. the traffic had better not be shit. “duty calls,” she mutters to herself, and she hopes the boss won’t be too pissed if she’s late.