#this entire movie is a goddamned vibe

[ceruleanwhore]

I know it's been a minute since Hazbin dropped and I'm late to the hate train but I have things I want to say, so I shall.

First off, the whole thing makes absolutely no fucking sense, conceptually. There is really no good way to execute this batshit idea of Lucifer having a daughter and that daughter deciding to start a fucking hotel in Hell to redeem sinners so they can go to Heaven. Also, the culling shit with the angels showing up to just kill already dead souls for no reason also makes no sense and there really isn't any way to make it make sense.

Secondly, when making yet another piece of media inspired by Christian canon, even if it is Christianity and you hate the religion, you absolutely have to know the source material before you go fucking with it. That's why, for example, Dogma is such a good movie but this series falls flat even though both are comedic critiques of Christianity - Dogma understands the subject well enough to criticize it intelligently whereas Hazbin feels like it was conceptualized and made by someone who only watched like two episodes of Veggie Tales and otherwise knows jack shit about the religion. Throwing Lilith in there is worse because she isn't even in Christianity and it has the same vibes as when CCD classes host a Passover Seder by and for a bunch of gentiles to 'teach' about what Jesus was up to when he was around. It's just so disrespectful. Actually, that's what it is - the creators learned everything they know about Christianity, Heaven, and Hell from Tumblr posts which is definitely why she's in there.

If they knew more about the thing they're trying to make a whole ass show about, Adam and Eve wouldn't have been angels, there would be no hotel because you could just have the creation of Purgatory instead or, at the very least, some take on the harrowing of Hell and salvation of the virtuous pagans in Limbo. Also, even if you don't want to touch the Bible because it's icky (and I mean yeah), all you had to do was read like Dante's Inferno and peep the Ars Goetia and then actually make a structured Hell with a hierarchy and everything. I think kinda like what Rachel Smythe did with the worldbuilding in Lore Olympus, they wanted to modernize Hell for some reason, so the turf war/mafia type shit was supposed to replace a stronger hierarchy of Hell with princes and dukes and presidents and such, but I fucking hate it and there's no goddamn structure.

More importantly, the worldbuilding of Hell itself completely misses the fucking point of Hell as a thing. Hell is there both to contain Satan and the fallen angels who joined him in that uprising thing that one time and also to serve as a place where sinners go when they die and are punished for their sins. We never see even once any sort of actual system for sorting all these souls and punishing them for their sins. On the contrary, characters like Angel Dust appear to get to do drugs for the rest of their immortal lives and, since they're dead, it's not like those are going to kill them so it really doesn't read like a punishment. The closest we get to actual punishments are when the sinners/demons have gone and made deals that give other residents of Hell control over them, like how Husk is under Alastor's control and then Alastor apparently also has some kind of deal screwing him over, and Angel's situation with shitty boa dude is pretty similar too. It feels like they did the extermination shit to replace punishment in Hell along with these deals we see here and there, which is utterly fucking ridiculous and makes absolutely no sense.

The other thing I'd add kind of going off that is that Heaven in this series also makes literally no fucking sense. It's actually also the biggest issue I have with Good Omens that it makes NO SENSE for the angels to have no clue what God's plan is or, in this case, how souls even get into Heaven. The whole fucking point is that there's an entire, nicely structured hierarchy for exactly this. Seraphim, cherubim, and thrones are all closest to God, so they can get the info from Them and pass it to the lower ranks. Hell, this could even be how you get problems, like you make it a bit of a gimmick that Heaven runs on a massive game of telephone. It also could've been a way to have some really cool variety in character design, so maybe some of the higher ranking angels look like the weird biblical shit with all the eyes and fire and they get progressively more normal as you go down the hierarchy. Instead, they picked like three recognizable names, made them into pretty people with wings and potentially also stupid Homestuck looking masks, and threw them in our face while just refusing to actually bother with worldbuilding or character design.

That brings me to the third thing which is that, when doing a series like this based on something like Christianity, you really have to sit down and figure out what kind of God your Christian God in your series is going to be, even if They never show up on screen. Is this God distant and neglectful and that's how all this shit is happening? Or do we have the wrathful God of the Israelites who regularly exterminates Hell out of pure sadistic rage? Or do we have a weak God on the verge of death who is barely present out of necessity while the angels take advantage of that absence and run amok? And it's not even just that determining what kind of God is supposed to be the God of this series would inform why stuff happens like it does, it would also help the writers to have a sense of direction and motive for what happens.

The writing in the show is all over the fucking place and figuring out what kind of God this God is meant to be is the very first question they should've asked themselves and it would've prevented most of the problems that currently exist in the show. If we had that, then maybe we wouldn't have weird shit with Lucifer where he very much does not feel like he's the devil at all and also Charlie is supposed to have daddy issues but then he shows up and is just a really adoring and supportive dad so that doesn't make sense. If we had that, then maybe Hell would have a fucking structure because we would actually have the motive behind Hell itself and why it exists. If we had that, then maybe we could get into the nitty gritty of the ethical/theological complexities of Hell and how, no matter how you slice it, it's really God's will at the end of the day so we could get a whole debate over if Lucifer is even evil or if God is just controlling and sadistic and all that. If we had that then maybe we could even have some reveal about how sin isn't even a concrete thing and the true nature of Hell is that it's a place people choose to go when they die because they don't feel worthy of salvation and they feel in their soul that they need to be punished. Anything, really.

Fourth is that it really, really shouldn't be a musical series. The pacing fucking sucks and they overexplain everything and I just feel like if you took all the time spent on shitty musical numbers and instead put it into showing, not telling, and also developing characters and relationships, it could be a lot better. If there was more time for shit, then maybe Charlie could not be a Mary Sue and Vaggie could have a personality and Angel could be an actual fucking character that isn't just an animated twink with trauma who gets off on violating people's boundaries. Also, I just really didn't like most of the songs in the series (outside the series they're fine) and I skipped a lot of those scenes.

Fifth and final is that it really just wasn't funny. A lot of the stuff that was supposed to be funny was just excessive swearing that felt completely unnatural, like that tiktok going around of that girl saying the n word. If you're bothering to do a whole series set in Hell that's ostensibly about Christianity, then why tf aren't you leaning more into biting criticism of Christianity for your humor? If they'd just gone full Dogma with this, it would've been so much better but no.

So yeah, it fucking sucked and so did the character design.

[senditcolton]

hits different

do you think i have forgotten... about you?

series masterlist | playlist | word count: 9.3k a/n: here it is! the finale of the "we're a bad idea" series. it's crazy to think that this series started on a complete whim and turned into this. i had so much fun writing this for you all and screaming about it with you and... gosh, just, thank you for all your support! I hope you all love this conclusion as much as I do. warnings: feminine reader, teammate's sister, age gap. smut! heavy handsy make out, oral (f receiving), protected penetrative sex. Disclaimer: Reading/creating content for married players isn’t for everyone. Please don’t read if you don’t vibe with it, but don’t attack me or others!

It felt like something out of a goddamn movie.

The way your eyes locked onto each other the very moment you settled next to Shannon at the altar. How the scent of the flowers that Emily had chosen for your bouquet suddenly became overwhelming. The feeling of heat that rushed through you – a heat that had nothing to do with the warm July afternoon and everything to do with the blue eyes that had captured you under their gaze.

Not the mention the film reel flashback that replayed in your head of those months when you allowed him into your bed and into your heart. And how he broke you into a million pieces and sent you running to Los Angeles to escape his hold on you.

Almost two years and three-thousand miles between you and him. You thought that would be enough.

But, even after all of that, it seems that you still couldn’t forget Matt Martin.

And based on the beating echoing through your ribcage, it was obvious that your wretched heart failed to remember how much it hurt whenever he was around.

The string music dancing on the breeze lifts to a crescendo and you almost scoff at the irony; like the universe itself was trying to arrange a reunion worthy of an Oscar-winning romance. Then you heart stutters when you see Matt lift from his seat, his eyes still locked on your frame and you fear that a love confession was about to fall from his lips.

Thankfully, that doesn’t happen. Instead, he turns from you, directing his gaze down the aisle.

The embarrassment rushes through your body and you have to shake your head at your dramatics; at the way you made yourself the main character in a moment that was anything but yours.

This was Scotty and Emily’s moment – their wedding, for Christs sake. Your eyes divert to the end of the aisle, watching as your soon to be sister-in-law walk to your brother, her stunning white dress flowing behind her. You sneak a glance at Scotty, watching his eyes water as Emily takes those final steps towards him. This was the reason you were here. Not Matt Martin.

Somehow, you manage to make it through the entire ceremony without looking out to the audience and those ocean blue eyes. When you walk back up the aisle for the recessional, your arm linked in Sebastian’s, your gaze locks with Matt’s once again before he disappears from your sight.

It’s a moment of reprieve as you sneak back into the cabin where you and the rest of the bridesmaids had spent the night, a deep breath lifting your chest.

You should’ve known he would be here. He was your brother’s teammate, a fact that you were all too aware of when this tryst began. Still, you hoped you wouldn’t have to face him. Not because you hated him or because you had moved on. But because there was still a part of you that craved him, that couldn’t let him go.

There was an ache in you and it felt like only he could heal it.

How? The answer to that question was still uncertain. You didn’t know if you needed him to apologize, or give you closure, or tell you everything you’ve always wanted him say. But you weren’t ready for it, whatever it was.

And when you walk into the reception area where the guests waited, your heart proves how unprepared you were based its reaction when your eyes find Matt. And the gymnastic routine it does when you realize that he was seated at your table, only a few spaces away from you.

Dinner is excruciating. It feels like a choreographed routine as you stop your head from drifting too far to the right to look in Matt’s direction, pretending that you don’t feel the weight of his stare, laser-focused on the toasts and your brother’s first dance. And when the dance floor opens and the mingling begins, the reason you fly from your chair was to greet other guests, performing your duty as a bridesmaid.

Not because you were desperate to delay the inevitable conversation you knew you had to have with the one man you had been avoiding.

Blissfully, a familiar voice calls to you from across the space and your eyes lock onto Mat Barzal, frantically waving at you from one of the other tables. You smile, walking over to him as he rises from his chair and hugs you, your name falling from his lips with that bright cheerfulness that you heard so frequently over Facetime calls and nights out in LA when the Islanders came to California.

“How are you doing, Barzy?” you ask, pulling away from the hug.

“Pretty good,” he replies, his hand falling to the shoulder of the pretty brunette occupying the seat next to him. “Have I introduced you to Lyla yet?”

“Well, you’ve talked about her enough that I feel like I’ve met her before,” you laugh as you steal Mat’s seat from him, holding out your hand before formally introducing yourself. “Good to officially meet the girl that stole this idiot’s heart.”

“Nice to finally meet you too,” Lyla says, taking your hand in hers. “Although, I will be honest, when I first saw your name on Mat’s phone and how many Facetime calls the two of you shared, I was a little concerned. Thought you were a long-distance girlfriend or something.”

“Completely understandable,” you laugh, admiring her candor. “But there’s nothing to worry about. He’s a little too sweet for me.”

“I’m standing right here,” Mat huffs and you look up at him with a smirk.

“It’s nothing you haven’t heard before.”

Your relationship with Mat Barzal was the one thing that had shifted in the years you were away but it definitely changed for the better. He had turned from a potential romantic partner to a true friend. That shift – one that was brought on after a night of too many French Blonde cocktails – lifted a weight off both of your shoulders and opened the door for an even deeper connection with star winger.

“I hear that I have you to thank for him asking me on a date,” Lyla says.

“I did nothing but push Mat to ask for the number of the pretty girl at the gym that he spent almost a half-an-hour raving about,” you laugh, loving the way both Lyla and Mat’s cheeks flushed. “You had him whipped before he even knew your name.”

“Oh, trust me, I figured that out eventually,” Lyla jokes and you can’t help but scoot in, ready to hear all the embarrassing stories that Lyla was willing to share. And share she did. It seems like hours of laughter and conversation, Mat even dragging a chair over and joining in – although most of his comments are attempts to defend himself. Eventually, Lyla gets up to run to the ladies room, departing with a kiss on Mat’s cheek and you can’t stop the smile that appears when Mat’s eyes stay glued to her as she walks away.

“I like her,” you say, calling his attention back to you. “She’s way too good for the likes of you.”

“Oh, I know,” he laughs, taking your jest in stride before sipping his beer. You see his hazel eyes bounce across the room, pausing momentarily before they return to you. “Have you talked to him yet?”

A sigh rushes through you as you shake your head.

“I still can’t believe I told you about him.”

“You told me like… eight months ago. Besides, you can only blame yourself.”

“Hey, I can also blame copious amounts of alcohol.”

“Yeah, alcohol that loosened your tongue and sent his name falling out of your mouth,” Mat quips, his eyebrow raising. “Along with your dinner.”

“Please don’t remind me,” you say, your mind jumping back to the night in question.

It was November, when the Islanders played Los Angeles. You and Mat met up at a local bar – just the two of you and it was that night that your relationship changed completely. Because in your inebriated state, Matt Martin’s name slurred from your lips while Barzy was attempting to shove you into an Uber.

Despite facing the wrath of his coaches, Mat helped you back to your apartment and kept you company that night, his reasoning being that he wanted to make sure you were alright and a California road trip allowing him the time to do so. It was over greasy eggs and bacon that he asked why you said Marty’s name. And you told him.

You even told him about the night of the charity gala, emphasizing that you never meant to use him like that. And that the reason why you never took him up on his offer to be more than friends was because you didn’t want to use him more, keep giving him false hope.

The truth stung him for a few days but after giving him the time and space he needed, the honesty and clarity brought the two of you closer. Now, he was the only person in your life that knew the whole story of why you left Long Island. And, like the good friend he was, he kept your secret all that time.

“You know you’re going to have to speak to him at some point,” Mat prods.

“I know,” you quip, playfully rolling your eyes. “Doesn’t mean I can’t avoid him for a few more minutes.”

“You’ve been avoiding him for almost two years. Don’t know if a few minutes is going to help.”

“When did you get so wise?”

“You can thank Lyla for that,” he smiles and you watch his whole expression soften at the mere sound of her name.

“She makes you happy.”

The sentence is more statement than question. You were there on the other end of the line when he talked about the first time he saw her. You gave him pep-talks and advice on how to ask her out. You helped him plan dates and dinners. It was obvious that this girl was something special to him.

“Happier than I’ve been in a while.”

“Then why are you still sitting here talking to me?” you say. “Dance at a wedding with your girlfriend.”

“Alright, I will,” Mat laughs, standing. He doesn’t depart immediately, choosing instead to lean over to you with a serious look in hie eye. “But you have to promise me you’ll talk to Marty.”

Another sigh escapes you as you let your head turn to look at the reception hall, your eyes glancing off the crowd of guests before landing on Matt, leaning against the wall, talking to Cal and his wife. As if he can feel your eyes on him, his gaze drifts to you and you watch a myriad of emotions dance on his face, each so subtle and fleeting that you couldn’t even begin to decipher what he was thinking.

“He’s been asking about you, you know,” Mat’s voice sounds, pulling your attention back to him.

“He has?”

“Yeah. Asking me, Scotty, Emily, anyone really. How you’re doing, what you’re doing.”

“What have you told him?”

“Just surface level stuff: your job, your complaints about the weather and LA traffic, things like that. It seems like he wants to talk to you,” Mat says. “So, you should talk to him. If nothing else, you might at least get some closure.”

You exhale, you mid swirling with the information that Matt Martin was still thinking about you, maybe in the same way you were thinking about him. Your head was a mess of doubts and hopes and fears and longing and desires. You just breathe through it all, pulling Mat into another hug which he reciprocates.

“You’re a really good friend, you know that right?” you ask, your voice muffled by his tuxedo.

“So I’ve been told by this really cool Los Angeles girl who overthinks everything.”

You laugh as you let your arms fall, Mat shooting you that crooked smile before he is walking away. You see him intercept Lyla as she re-enters the reception area, taking her arm in his and pulling her to the dancefloor, the smile on her face brightening as Mat leans in and kisses her cheek.

There was a part of you that twinged at the sight. You knew it was jealousy – not the traditional jealousy but a different form. You weren’t angry that Mat found joy with someone that wasn’t you, but envious that he found someone, period.

Especially since you were unable to move on from the man you shared a scandalous but exhilarating few months with. The man you promised yourself you would forget.

But then you hear his voice sound from behind you and feel that exquisite ache that you had never been able to soothe throb in the center of your chest.

“Hey.”

You turn to see him standing behind you, his suit looking almost too perfect for his body, his hair tousled and falling over his forehead. You watch as his blue eyes rove over your face and you wonder what he’s thinking and if all the same emotions are flooding his system the way they were yours.

“Hi,” you whisper, cursing your voice for coming out sounding so timid, cursing yourself for still allowing Matt Martin to make you feel small. But instead of that cool smirk that used to always appear at the sound of your frailty, his face remains impassive, his eyes flicking down to the now vacant seat next to you.

“Could I sit?” he asks and your head spins, not only because of the gentleness of the question but the fact that he even asked at all. The Matt Martin you used to know would’ve sat down immediately, invading your space boldly and brazenly for no other reason than to get a rise out of you.

You nod, watching him settle down into the cushioned seat and take a sip from his whiskey glass, his eyes still on you. It takes an immense amount of effort to break your gaze as you reach for your own wine and letting the smooth oaked flavor dance over your tongue.

“How have you been?” Matt breaks the silence again and you know you hear a hesitance in his voice, like he is unsure if he should even be addressing you.

“I’ve been alright,” you reply, your own voice thick with trepidation. “You?”

“It’s been decent.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, and his eyebrows quirk up in curiosity at your words. “For your injury. The playoffs,” you elaborate. Your gaze stays locked on him, trying to understand the micro-expressions that pass over his face.

“Thank you,” he replies and you just nod, taking another sip of your wine. “Didn’t know if you were even watching.”

“Wanted to support my brother.”

“Right,” he sighs. “Of course.”

You hated this. Hated the weight that hung over the two of you like a lead curtain, making anything beyond small talk too difficult to say. You weren’t sure how to surmount this obstacle, not sure if it was even possible to overcome. But someone had to be brave and attempt that first step.

With a deep breath and another sip of liquid courage, you turn you attention back to Matt.

“Was there… something you wanted to ask me?” you question, the words as stilted and unclear as the intention behind them.

Matt looks at you, his blue eyes wide as he absorbs your words. It is a moment of stillness before he is finishing off his whiskey and setting the glass on the table, lifting himself out of his chair. Your heart flips in fear that you said the wrong thing, that you ruined the moment before it could even take shape but that concern is silenced when Matt stands in front of you, holding out his hand, his palm upturned.

“Dance with me?”

Of all the questions that you thought Matt Martin would confront you with, this was one that you were not prepared for. A sentiment that is echoed by a bewildered ‘what?’ falling from your lips.

“Will you dance with me?” Matt reiterates, the request turning into a genuine question. Would you let him take you out onto the dance floor and into his arms again?

Your eyes rove from his face to his hand, still outstretched. The hesitance lingers in you reflected by the way you lift your own hand, your fingers curling back in a moment of uncertainty before you allow them to touch his. They glide against his calloused skin, wrapping around his palm, his own fingers winding around your hand.

Another glance up at him shows you the slightest smile playing at his lips. But it isn’t twinged with the familiar undercurrent of cruelty or power. Instead, it looks like relief.

He gently tugs you upright before leading you to the dancefloor, the refrain of a slow melody encompassing you moments before Matt’s arms do the same. He adjusts the grip on your hand while the other finds a respectful place on the small of your back. You let your own free hand lift and rest delicately on his bicep as the two of you begin to sway.

The silence between you remains even as the music rises and falls. You still avoid looking in Matt’s eyes, content to stare at the hardwood floor even though you can feel the weight of his gaze. In the back of your mind, you knew that if your eyes locked with his, you wouldn’t be able to keep your composure.  That possibility was to be avoided at all costs. You couldn’t let Matt Martin regain the control over you that he used to have.

“You look beautiful.”

Those three muttered words, the compassion behind them, makes your resolve crumble, your eyes darting up to meet with his.

“Thank you,” you say, your voice breathless – the exact opposite of the curtness you wanted your tone to convey. But perhaps it wasn’t your choice to soften your words. Maybe it was subconscious, based on the way that Matt held you, the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you. It felt different.

He was different.

“I missed you,” he whispers; the first real confession of the night.

“Matt,” you sigh, the cynic jumping out to protect your heart – the one that he shattered.

“I know,” he says. “I know what you’re going to say.”

“How can you?” you challenge him, the small flame of anger that you held flickering in your chest.

“You’re right. I have no idea what you were about to say. But I can make a guess.”

His words extinguish that resentment as soon as it appears, your eyebrow raising in surprise – not only towards his words but in his concession to you, he deference of power, the pendulum swinging in your favor. Your silence allows him to continue.

“I know I haven’t given you any reason to trust me,” he begins. “For you to believe anything I say is the truth. But I guess… I’m just wondering if you would give me a chance. Let me prove it to you.”

“Prove what to me?”

“How much I missed you. How much I care about you.”

He pulls your closer to him and you allow it. You let him hold you tighter until your chests press together, the smell of his all too familiar cologne flooding your senses. You swear you forget how to breathe when you feel his hand trace up your arm before resting against your jawline. The gentle press of his fingers guides you to look up at him, his thumb caressing your cheek.

“Let me prove that I was an idiot for ever letting you go.”

You can feel the tears prick the corner of your eyes and you know Matt can see them, watching as they well up on your lower lashes. His words seemed so sweet, so genuine, and you so desperately wanted to believe them. But there was still that voice in the back of your mind screaming, ‘this is what he does; he’s an expert at speaking these saccharine words but you know they’re never fulfilling.’

But here, now, he was promising to prove it to you.

The words of acceptance are dancing up your throat, hanging on the tip of your tongue and at the edge of your lips. But before you can speak them into existence, the universe silences you once again.

“Alright everyone, please clear the dance floor and let the bride and groom have one private last dance. Make your way to the front entrance and get ready to send them off in style!”

The MC’s voice booms from the speaker, pulling your attention and your body away from the gentle hold of Matt. The uncertainty and distrust take advantage of the interruption to reassert itself in your mind.

‘This was a sign,’ it said. ‘The universe is protecting you from getting your heart broken again.’

But when you look back, your eyes connecting to Matt’s once more and you still see nothing but yearning on his face, you feel your own longing surge again.

“Meet me by the fountain when this is all over?” you ask.

“I’ll be there.”

This time, you really do believe him.

You meet with the rest of the bridesmaids and hand out the silver streamers. You are blessed with an immense amount of coordination and impeccable timing as the streamers pop right as Scotty and Emily make their way through the crowd and hop in the car, already packed with their suitcases and honeymoon plane tickets. It is another few moments of clean up and meeting with the wedding coordinator before you are able to run back to the cabin where you and the other bridesmaids stayed for the past two days. You grab your overnight duffle bag, slinging it over your shoulder before making your way through the country club and out to the garden near the front entrance.

The two aspects of your personality were still at war with each other as you entered the terrace. Part of you prayed that Matt would keep his word and be there, just like he said. The other part prepared itself for the possibility that this was all just a cruel joke, an elaborate attempt for him to keep his hooks in you.

But when you walk out and see Matt standing next to the stone fountain, his profile illuminated by the garden lights, your desire once again silences the doubt in your mind.

You wanted to trust him. Sure, you might get hurt. But you could also heal.

That hope was worth the risk.

Matt hears your heels clacking against the pavement and turns to face you, his lips curling in a gentle smile at your approach.

“You’re here,” you say, breathless, as if your brain still didn’t trust that this wasn’t all a dream.

“I told you I would be,” he replies, holding out his hand to you again, another offering for you to accept or reject. This time, your hand slides easily into his, your fingers intertwining.

There is a pause, as if neither of you expected to be in this situation. Now that you were, you were both unsure what to do next. The uncertainty sinks into you, your voice breaking the silence in an attempt to continue the moment.

“I was planning on getting a room at the hotel airport,” you explain. “If you want to join me.”

You swear you see a flash of surprise cross Matt’s face at your suggestion before softening, a look of gentle exasperation painted on his features.

“Is that how you think I’m going to make it up to you?” he asks. His tone isn’t frustrated or offended. Instead, it’s curious, like he truly wonders if that’s what you thought of him. Or if that’s what you needed from him.

The ache that rushes through your body, reminiscent of the desire you always felt towards him but multiplied tenfold, gives you your answer. The months you spent denying your hunger for him, the ways you explained away the pain of losing him as something akin to withdrawal, how you used those brief moments of happiness to justify your choice to leave, keeping you handcuffed to the idea that you would be better off without him… they all melted away.

You wanted him. You’ve always wanted him.

You step forward, pressing your body close as you look into those eyes that haunted your dreams.

“It’s how I want you to,” you whisper, the response to his question cutting through the night air.

There is no clear indication on who moved first but you find it doesn’t matter when you feel the press of Matt’s lips against yours. This kiss itself is delicate, as if he was careful not to cross any line, any boundary that you wanted to place. But you had no sense of restraint.

Your desire surged forward, free from the cage that you kept it locked in. You release your grip on his hand and your duffle bag, your free hands flying up to his hair, tangling in the silky locks as your body presses impossibly closer. Matt takes your desperation in stride, his own arms wrapping around you, holding you steady. Your tongue presses against the seam of his lips, silently begging for access which he gives. A whimper escapes your throat, the taste of him on your tongue only increasing your craving. You can feel Matt’s grip tighten in response to your sounds, his fingers crumpling the silk fabric of your dress as he swallows every desperate noise that he pulls from you.

Somehow, the kisses slow until your lips are falling away from each other. Matt keeps you near, your forehead pressed against his, the warmth of his breath fanning across your cheekbones.

“Let me take you home,” he murmurs and you don’t even think twice before your head is nodding in agreement.

The car ride back to his place feels both familiar and foreign. The air between you is still thick with need but those powerful emotions are lightened by the feeling of Matt’s fingers intertwining with yours over the center console, the way his eyes dart over to you, looking at you as if he couldn’t believe this was real. You were sure that your face conveyed the same thought.

He pulls into the driveway, the porchlight gleaming like a beacon in the darkness, calling you back to him. His grip around you is firm as he walks you to the front door, escorting you across the threshold and your eyes take in the sight of a house that you felt you knew like the back of your hand. The pillows on his couch were different as was some of the art lining the walls but besides that, it looked exactly how it did the last time you were there.

You hear Matt kick off his shoes behind you and you aren’t sure if it’s habit or muscle memory that pulls you forward, your own heels tapping against the hardwood as you wander deeper, your body guiding you to the staircase. Your hand wraps around the wooden railing as you begin your ascent to the second floor. Matt is close behind you, his own steps slow and measured as he lets you guide him up the stairs and to the first door on your right.

The master bedroom is more of the same, the smallest and subtlest of changes catching your attention as you walk into the room. You can hear the small click of the door latch finding home echo and you turn to see Matt leaning against the doorframe, his eyes observing you in the low lamplight.

Your smile is all the encouragement he needs to push himself away from the door, crossing the distance stretched between you in only a few steps. His hand lifts to cup your face, your eyes locking with his before he is capturing your lips in another kiss.

In the safety and security of his bedroom, it seems as if both of your desires were unleashed with a vengeance. His hands pull you closer and your own scramble on his body, wanting to feel every inch of him, wanting to recommit his shape to memory. You are pressed against him, pushing him deeper into the room, your feet moving across the carpeted floor. He lets you manipulate him, walking backward and holding you against him as if he wanted no space to separate the two of you ever again, be it three-thousand miles or three inches.

It isn’t long until his body is falling to sit on the edge of his mattress, his thighs spreading to pull you between them. His desire to have you close is reciprocated, your body moving on its own accord. Your hand mindlessly reaches down to grip the fabric of your dress, pulling the midi hem higher to allow you to climb into his lap without hinderance, your legs straddling his waist.

Matt’s hands grip you tighter, pulling you close, the movement of his lips against yours never ceasing. Your own hands return to tangle in his hair, the taste of him more intoxicating than all the bottles and glasses of alcohol that you drank trying to forget him.

If possible, your desire ratchets up another level and your hands fall from his hair, tugging off his suit jacket. You blindly reach for his tie, undoing the knot as Matt’s hands wander all over your body, grabbing your ass, pulling your hips down to meet his. A moan rumbles from your chest as you feel the hardness of him pressed against you, your lips falling from Matt’s. He doesn’t seem affected, his own lips moving to kiss your neck, his hands still tracing your curves.

You are blind with lust as Matt’s head dips across your collarbones and the top of your decolletage and you let your instincts guide you, your fingers finding the buttons of his dress shirt. Each clasp is unfastened deftly and as soon as the shirt falls open, your hands sneak underneath the fabric, pressing against Matt’s warm skin. You can feel the strength of his chest, the movement of his muscles, and the pounding of his heart underneath your palms as they glide up, pushing the material off his broad shoulders. Matt’s hands only depart from your body momentarily to rid the shirt from his frame completely before he is pulling your lips to his again.

Your hands drift back down to his abdomen and you can feel his muscles clench in response to your gentle touch. It’s another generous roll of your hips against his before your fingertips find the button and zipper of his slacks. You blindly undo them just enough that you can slip your hand beneath both the waistband of his pants and boxer briefs.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Matt groans against your skin as your hand wraps around his length. Another rush of heat flows through your body at hearing the familiar pet-name fall from his lips. Your own lips twist in a smile as you give him a few languid strokes, relishing in the way his moans vibrate against your skin – the way he weakens for you.

The need to make him unravel more takes over as you begin to pull away from him, your body scooting back in order to dismount and fall to your knees in front of him. But before you could even drop a single foot onto the carpeted floor, Matt’s hands hold you firm, halting your motions.

“No,” he whispers, pulling you back to him. “Not tonight.”

You stare at him, your eagerness to have him in your mouth mixing with the confusion of why he was preventing you from doing just that. The immediate response he gives you is another kiss, his hand returning to rest against your jaw. When he does pull away, you hear his sultry timbre echo around the room.

“I should be the one on my knees worshipping you, not the other way around.” 

His declaration burns through you, igniting a need that had been left untapped for years.

You were used to submitting to Matt Martin. You thought that you loved it. But now, here he was ready to bow to you and your desires and your will. That thought alone made a fire pool in your lower stomach, your lips pressing against his again.

His hands tighten against your skin, securing his grip on you as he lifts himself from the bed with you in his arms. The sensation of the smooth sheets pressing against your back is almost instantaneous, Matt’s lips falling from yours to retrace their previous pathway along your jaw, down the column of your throat and across your collarbones. You are about to lift yourself upright to pull the material of your dress away from your frame but Matt’s arms keep you pinned against the mattress. Instead, his hand simply tugs the fabric up, painstakingly exposing more of your skin to the cool air until the silk is bunched around your waist.

You feel Matt’s smile against your skin as his lips continue their descent, kisses placed against your stomach before he presses a whisper of one right above the edge of your panties.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes darting up to look at you.

The only sound that your voice can manage is a whine but it’s enough for Matt, his elegant fingers hooking and twisting around your waistband. Your head falls back as you lift your hips to help him pull the soft cotton away. He tugs the material down your legs at a painstaking pace, lifting your feet to unhook the elastic from around your ankles.

You expect – no, you need him to return to the apex of your thighs. But you soon realize how much Matt meant it when he said he planned on worshipping you.

His hands guide your feet to rest on his muscular thighs as his finger unbuckle your shoe, sliding it off before repeating the action on the other side. He lifts your leg, your bare heel now resting on the back of his shoulder and you sigh when you feel his lips press against your calf. They linger as he makes his way back up your frame, a kiss pressed on your shin, your knee, your inner thigh.

It feels like reverence. It feels like devotion – to you, to the way you make him feel.

Your hand reaches down, tangling in his hair and gently tugging him closer to the place you needed him most. Matt lets you guide him and, after he brings both of your legs to rest on his shoulders, his arm wrapping around your waist, pinning your hips to the bed, he finally – finally – presses his mouth against your core.

A relieved sigh escapes your chest as Matt’s lips move, his tongue darting out to trace your folds. Your sighs turn to whimpers to moans as he continues his ministrations, remembering all the things that make your breathing hitch, your thighs shake. Remembering all the ways you come undone.

“Still so sweet,” he murmurs. “Still so desperate for me.”

He resumes his movements, winding you up in the most deliberate way. Your free hand twists into the sheets as he drags you closer to the edge, his tongue diving into your cunt before lifting to flick against your clit, the action causing your hips to jolt from beneath his strong arm. You swear that you are about to rip his sheets based on how tight you are holding them.

You’re too strung out to see Matt’s eyes lift, him noticing the death grip you have on the soft cotton covering the mattress. In your haze, you can feel the grip he has on your thigh loosen and depart but your mind doesn’t understand the reason until you feel his hand dancing across your fingers twisted in the sheets, silently coaxing you to release the fabric. You do and as soon as there is space, his fingers filling the gaps between yours, holding your hand tightly as his mouth continues to work its sinful magic against you.

Your orgasm hits you unexpectedly, your back arching off the bed as the tidal wave of pleasure crashes through your body, radiating from your stomach down to the tips of each limb. Your hand tightens around his so firmly that you believe you must be cutting off circulation. But Matt doesn’t seem to mind, squeezing your hand tighter in response. He moans against your core in response to the taste of your release flooding his tongue, the vibration sending another round of shudders down your spine.

The feeling of Matt’s mouth and hands leaving you ignites a new wave of desperation, one that is only partially satiated when he returns to hover over you, kissing you deeply. You moan into his mouth when you taste the tang of your own essence still coating his tongue.

“I can’t believe I forgot how good you were at that,” you exhale when your lips fall from his.

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget how gorgeous you look when you cum,” he murmurs, his head dipping down to your neck, his quiet assertation making you smile.

You let him press his lips against your throat, content to lay beneath him for the moment. But when you feel his hips roll against yours, his own hunger for you and your body not yet satisfied, another ache of need hits you. You pull his head back up to your face, capturing his lips in another feverish kiss.

Matt’s body hovers mere centimeters above yours, his hips pressed against you. The position makes it easy for you to hook your leg around him. Using what strength you had, you somehow manage to flip the two of you around, Matt’s back crashing onto the bed, your body now suspended above him.

You break the kiss, lifting yourself upright with a grin on your face as your hands trace over the ridges of his chest. His own hands dance up your thighs, sneaking beneath the hem of your dress to caress the soft skin around your hipbones. In the span of a breath, your fingers bunch the silken material of your gown, gathering it in your hands before you pull the fabric over your head.

The gentle sharp inhale of Matt’s breath as your body becomes entirely exposed to him is music to your ears. There is no stopping his hands as they continue to drift up your body, gliding over the curves of your hips and waist, dancing across your ribcage before coming to cup your breasts. He caresses the sensitive skin, his thumbs reaching to brush against your nipples causing your head to fall back, a soft plea for him to continue falling from your mouth. He listens, his fingers roving across your body, as if there was not an inch of skin that he wanted to leave untouched.

“Such a gorgeous perfect body,” he mutters, making the pool of desire within you fill again.

You lift your hips up only so far as to reach behind you, tugging at the fabric of his slacks and boxer briefs; a silent request. His hands fall from your body to pull the material down his legs and you feel him kick off the only remaining barriers between your bodies. You lean forward as you kiss him again, your hips sinking back down. A simultaneous moan escapes both of you as you grind against him, your arousal coating the soft skin of his shaft.

There is want and then there is pure unadulterated need and the latter is what takes a hold of you now. Your lips fall from his as you stretch your body forward, your arm reaching for the nightstand drawer, the place he used to – and now you hope still does – keep his condoms. Your progress is halted briefly by Matt’s head lifting to wrap his lips around your nipples, the action making another gasp sound your throat. You persevere, albeit somewhat distracted because of Matt’s ministrations, pulling open the drawer, relieved to see the box in the same place, thankful that not everything had changed.

But as you reach for one of the square packets, your eyes land on a stack of envelopes pushed against the other side and you swear you see your name scrawled across the white paper. You don’t have any time to linger on them as you feel Matt’s teeth gently nip at your skin, pulling your attention back to him.

“Please, darling, hurry up,” he implores, dark blue eyes looking up to you. “Need to get inside you.”

Who were you to deny him?

Your fingers grasp the foil, your body returning to its upright position above him. You rip open the packet, pulling the rubber from the confines and preparing it before you reach behind you, taking Matt in your hand. He throws his head back, his hair haloing around his face as you give him a few languid strokes before sliding the condom on.

There is no waiting, no more hesitation as you lift your hips up. Your free hand presses against the center of his chest for balance as you guide him to your entrance. You aren’t sure if it’s him or yourself you’re teasing when you slide the tip of him against your folds once, twice before you align yourself to him.

Your mouth falls open in a silent moan as you sink down, the stretch of him entering you delectably foreign and yet comfortingly familiar. Matt has a similar reaction to the sensation of your walls wrapping around him, his hands flying up to your hips, his grip tightening around you so much so that you swear you’re going to have bruises in the shape of his fingerprints the next morning.

“Fuck, darling,” he growls as your hips meet his, him bottoming out inside of you. “Still feel like fucking heaven around me.”

Your only response is a whimper as your eyes flutter shut, both of your hands now resting on his chest, using him for leverage as you begin to move. Matt guides the motion of your hips, helping you bounce on top of him, letting you grind against him, more sharp gasps falling from your lips as your clit rubs against the taut skin of his lower stomach.

“That’s it sweetheart,” he praises, fingers brushing against your skin as you ride him. “Take what you want from me. It’s yours to have.”

You whine, grinding your hips even deeper onto him, one of your hands lifting to tease your nipples. You missed this, the feeling of Matt hitting spots so deep in you, spots that no one else had been able to find before and since.

“God, I missed this,” Matt groans, echoing your thoughts, his eyes devouring your body. “Missed you.”

His words force you to open your eyelids and when your eyes lock, you almost cum simply from the way he is staring at you: like you were the most beautiful piece of artwork, like you were sculpted from the purest marble, crafted from the finest paints. Like you deserved to be hung in the Louvre.

“Matt,” you whine, his name falling from your lips in a plea as your movements falter against him.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he asks, his own voice strained and earnest. “What do you need?”

“Need you to fuck me.”

“Yeah?” he questions. But unlike the times before, he’s not asking in order to tease you, to be cruel, or to force you to beg him for a mere sliver of his attention. He is asking because he wants to hear you say it – wants to hear you confess that you’ve missed him and that you’ve been wanting him as much as he has been wanting you.

“Please,” you reply. “Please, I need it. I need you.”

Your words aren’t twinged with contempt, nor are they wretched from your mouth unwillingly. They fall from your lips because you mean them, because you want to beg for him – not the other way around.

A gasp is torn from your chest as Matt lifts himself up, his chest pressing against yours. His hands trace your spine, one burrowing into the hair at the nape of your neck, the other resting heavy on the small of your back. He pulls you to him, kissing you again and swallowing every noise that falls from your lips as he drags your hips into his.

You weren’t sure if it was because you were wound too tight or that you truly couldn’t comprehend what was happening because before you knew it, Matt had spun you around, flipping you once again so you were the one laying against the sheets. Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips and before you can moan at the feeling of him thrusting into you, your sounds are muffled by his lips again.

Matt eventually breaks away, one arm reaching back to grip your thigh, pulling one leg higher, the new angle causing every stroke of him to brush against that damnable spot that made you see stars. You cry out, your head collapsing against the bed, Matt’s name falling from your lips.

“Fuck, I missed this,” Matt mutters, keeping his steady pace as he watches your body respond to his movements. “Missed how beautiful you look underneath me. Missed this perfect fucking pussy. Fucking taking all of me like it’s made for me.”

His possessiveness makes you whimper, the high-pitched sound catching his ear.

“That right, baby?” he asks. “This cunt still mine, even after all this time?”

“Yes,” comes your reply, wrapped in a strangled moan. “I’m all yours. I’m still yours,” you gasp out, your hips desperately chasing his.

“And I’m all yours,” Matt replies, his head dropping down to kiss you again. “Let it out, sweetheart. Let me hear you.”

He doesn’t speed up, content to keep his languid pace, steadily driving you towards that cliff. The noises that escape you are incoherent, a jumbled mess of curses and pleas as your walls flutter desperately around him. It feels like the most deliberate and exquisite torture, a pleasure that you would welcome time and time again if he would let you.

“Come on, darling,” you hear Matt’s voice whisper in your ear. “Remind me how good it feels when that beautiful cunt cums around me.”

It is the quiet demand that has you falling off the edge, your muscles stiffening as your orgasm hits you. You can hear a faint growl rumble from Matt, murmured praise being spoken into your skin like a prayer as he fucks you through it, your legs trembling as they fall from him.

Matt’s movements finally increase in speed as he chases own climax, each move of his hips making you whimper. You tug his head to you, kissing him fiercely and swallowing his groans as he stills and you bask in the sensation of his cock pulsing inside of you.

Your labored breaths mingle as you stay wrapped up together, sweat drenched foreheads pressed against each other as you both collect yourself. Matt’s hand, the one that that had been gripping your thigh, lifts to brush your hair away from your forehead as his eyes appraise you. You can’t stop the way your eyes close as he leans in, kissing you once again, his tongue dipping into your open mouth and you whine as you feel him slowly pull out of you.

He places a gentle chaste kiss against your lips before lifting himself off you, walking around the bed. Your eyes track his movements, watching as he stops at the nightstand, the top drawer still open. There is a flicker of some emotion that crosses his face before he pushes the drawer closed before disappearing into the ensuite bathroom. You hear the water running before he returns, a warm damp washcloth in one hand and a t-shirt in the other.

Matt gently presses the washcloth against your skin, starting at your forehead and temples before descending until he reached the apex of your thighs, brushing away the lingering wetness of your release from your skin. He throws the towel into the hamper and holds out his hand, which you take. You let him lift your torso off the sheets as he hands you the t-shirt. He holds you steady while you slip the soft cotton over your head, the worn Maple Leaf emblem resting on your upper chest almost completely faded.

You collapse back against the sheets as Matt pulls on a pair of boxers before climbing next to you. His arms wrap around your body as he settles behind you, pulling your back close to his chest. Your own fingers lift to absentmindedly play with his as reality crashes back over you.

You aren’t sure what to say, if there even is anything to be said. You don’t want to ruin the golden halo of peace that surrounds the two of you but you knew you couldn’t just leave it like this. There were still too many questions unanswered, still too much uncertainty.

“What are you thinking about?” you hear Matt’s husky voice whisper from behind you. You sigh, wiggling in his grasp. He loosens his hold enough for you to spin and face him, his blue eyes soft as they take in the sight of you in his bed.

“A lot of things,” you answer, the response vague enough to let him decide whether to press on or to leave it at that. He decides to do the former.

“Like what?”

Your eyes lift to think, picturing the mess of thoughts in your head as you attempt to untangle each. The loose threads seem innumerable, too many to choose which was the most important to tug and which could be saved for a later moment. So, you just latch onto the first image that appears in your mind.

“Could I ask you a question?” you say, eyes connecting back to him.

“Of course.”

“When I was in your nightstand earlier,” you begin, carefully observing even the tiniest reactions that tug at Matt’s expression. “I saw a stack of envelopes and it looked like they had my name on them. What are they?”

There is a myriad of emotions that dance across Matt’s face, each more fleeting than the last before his features settle to what looks to you to be apathy or resignation. You feel your heart panic as his body turns away from, fearing that you spoke the wrong words – said the wrong thing. But it quiets when you watch him pull open the nightstand drawer, his hand reaching in. Your eyes follow his movements as he pulls out the stack of envelopes before spinning back to you.

“They’re for you,” he says, holding them out towards you. You take them from his hands, the bundle held tight by a rubber band. Your fingers flip through each of them, finding your name written on every single one. Your eyes dart from the paper back to him and you swear you see his cheeks tinge a lightish pink.

“My therapist suggested that I write you letters.”

“Your therapist?”

“Yeah. I started seeing him shortly after you left,” he explains, his hand reaching behind to awkwardly scratch at the nape of his neck. “Realized that there was a lot I needed to work on.”

“Why didn’t you send them?”

“I didn’t know your new address,” he tells you, the candor in his voice strengthening as he continues. “And I was too proud to ask. Besides, I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to hear from me. Thought you might throw them away if I did send them.”

You don’t respond, neither confirming or denying his assumption because in that moment, you weren’t certain what you would’ve done if a letter from him had appeared in your mailbox.

“What’s in them?” you ask, choosing to revert to a safer statement.

“Things I wanted to say to you. Things I never said to you when you needed to hear them. Everything I wanted to tell you but never got the chance to.”

There is a silence as you take in his declaration, your curiosity piquing as your fingers trace the edges of the envelopes. There is a desire to read them but also a fear, unsure if the contents would contain blame or apologies or gaslighting or regret.

“You don’t have to read them now,” Matt speaks again, his voice drawing your attention back to him.  “You don’t have to read them at all if you don’t want to. They’re yours to do whatever you please.”  

Something inside you tells you that it’s dangerous; that it’s a bad idea to open them. To trace over the words and strong emotions that forced him to put pen to paper. To allow Matt Martin back into the heart that you’ve spent years repairing. But when you feel his hand trace down the side of your face, his fingers twirling a strand of your hair, you realize that that line had already been blurred beyond recognition.

You didn’t know what a bad idea was when Matt was around. You had already done so many things that you shouldn’t have with him. What was one more bad idea compared to the thousands you acted on before?

What was this bad idea in comparison to one that brought you to Matt Martin’s bed in the first place?

Your mind swirls with all the drastic changes you had experienced in such a short amount of time. How different the world felt right now versus a few hours ago. How different the man sitting next to you was from the man you left in a Long Island bar two years ago. You felt as if you lived twenty lifetimes since you woke up. The past, the present, and every possible future tangled together in your mind, an amalgamation of all that had happened and all that could happen.

But you didn’t want to think about that right now. All you wanted to do was sink into Matt Martin’s arms and hold him close.

So, that’s exactly what you did.

You gently turn away from Matt, reaching up to place the stack of envelopes on top of the neighboring nightstand. There was still uncertainty whether you would read them, but the action of keeping them meant that you would consider it. And when you face Matt again, it seems that – for him – that was enough. This time, it is you who reaches out to intertwine your hand with his, scooting closer to him. He follows your lead, his body sinking into the mattress until you are pressed together, side by side. Your head comes to rest on chest, your eyes closing, the sound of his strong heartbeat echoing in your ear.

Right before sleep overtakes you, you manage to whisper to him the truth that your heart sang out, the sentence that you realized you couldn’t deny even after months of trying to do just that.

“I missed you too.”

The last thing you register is a soft kiss pressed onto the crown of your head, and encompassed in Matt’s warm embrace, you let the feeling of peace wash over you.

… but it’s gonna be alright. I did my time…

a/n 2.0: I did decide to leave it a little open ended because i just liked the feeling of it better. but if you want to know how what i think happens after this, i will direct you to this mashup

tagging the babes who made writing this so rewarding: @texanstarslove @comphy-and-cozy @smileysvech @laurenairay @dissonannce @cowboybarzy @cellythefloshie @provokedgoalie @m00nlightdelights @tkachvkmatthew @cixrosie @alwaysclassyeagle @geospatialharmony

[keeneschoices]

I'm gonna miss one of my classes because I stayed up late to watch the finale of Grease: Rise of the Pink Ladies and couldn't sleep afterwards... WELP, ANYWAY.

what a fucking good episode.

SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 10 AHEAD!

I've seen people saying they didn't like it that much because it was more relosution of past problems than anything else, but I did love it. The race didn't get to me nearly as much as I thought it would because after being presented with Cynthia and Lydia's situation, and the whole Olivia marrying that predator, I honestly had more things to worry about than any of that, but it was sort of fun.

Anyway, the whole song in the beginning of the girls telling Olivia not to marry that creep ("he's literally just a guy, hit him with your car" vibes) was just amazing. Everyone's vocals were great but holy fucking shit, ARI?? ARE YOU FOR REAL? THE TALENT.

We got a little more of backstory for Lydia and got some sort of hint regarding Cynthia's mom (my theory is she left them when Cynthia was young and sometimes she calls If she's in need of something). I'm loving to get to know these characters better, honestly.

The whole coming out scene between Nancy and Cynthia broke me. Like, literally had me crying and pausing the episode because I couldn't see anything behind the tears! I'm so goddamn glad Nancy talked to Cynthia and accepted them as they are (not that I ever thought she wouldn't), and seeing Cynthia cry, no, sob like that in Nancy's lap was so heartbreaking because their friend accepted them but it's still the fucking 50s and it's scary as hell.

AND THE MIRROR HOUSE SCENE?? WITH CYNTHIA SEARCHING THROUGH FOR LYDIA AND BEING VERY CLOSE BUT THEN AGAIN VERY FAR, UNTIL THEY CONNECTED AT THE END AND FINALLY GET THE RESOLUTION WE'VE BEEN WAITING FOR!! MY HEART MELTED. THEY'RE ALL IN, LYDIA!

God, I just love love love the mirror house song and scene, it was so well done (I SCREAMED OKAY?? THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE THING). And Nancy not only preparing Cynthia to go in but encouraging her and even entering the house to make sure Lydia knew Cynthia was serious about their feelings? AMAZING. NANCYCYNTHIA BESTIES, YES.

I also sort of liked that Hazel is now a Pink Lady and sort of didn'? like, I love the message and I totally think If anyone else deserves a chance to be a Pink Lady, it's her... but like, the other four are so connected already because of everything that's happened between them. I'm not saying Hazel couldn't fit into that, but with a bond like theirs it's normal that she'll probably feel left out at least a little bit and that's not what I want.

OHH, AND THE LITTLE NODS TO GREASE AND GREASE 2 WERE SO GOOD. Potato's "speech" to keep things intereseting with Nancy mirroring Sandy's to Danny from the first movie made me cackle and I just looooveeee that they included the Pink Ladies' Pledge, not only the pledge in on itself but also that little part of the song from Grease 2. I loved it!!

The only thing that really bothered me from the episode was the cliffhanger in the end. Because I was expecting like, a cliffhanger and we got, well, name dropped. Which is not bad I guess, I just don't give a shit about whoever this Zuko is and what his relation to Danny is so I'm sort of hanging here for season 2 because If this is the main plot, I'm gonna be tuning in mostly for my favorite characters. Not saying the plot won't be good (because these writers are fenomenal), but it's not as interesting as of now for me personally.

WELL ANYWAY, I'M GONNA GO TO SLEEP NOW BUT I STILL WANT A SEASON 2, YOU HEAR ME PARAMOUNT?? LET'S GO.

[charmixpower]

So I've been asked what my ideal relationship timeline is winx would be like for the canon relationships (on discord), so here it is!!!

Bloom/Sky:

This fucking relationship was a mess! Not even a mess in the way Rivusa was a mess, I mean them both imagining a kiss at the end of s1 fucking mess. Help what is wrong with them

For them I would like them to get in a relationship before the Trix try and convince Bloom that she was made by the ancestral witches (Valtor foreshadowing?) and then they break up during the Diaspro event. He gets his ass DUMPED!!! Consequences for your actions you little asshole!!!

They make up during the s1 finale and Sky is like "can we start dating again 🥺" and Bloom is like "No💙". The imagined kiss can still happen, it was so insane, you can keep it

Then s2 happens and Sky is trying so hard to be a good bf "plz take me backkk" and then hes like "I hate Avalon. I'm not even like doing this bc I want you back, that man is CREEPY. Riven agrees and we had an entire civil conversation about it. Baby plz." Bloom is not listening 💙💙💙 and then the dark Bloom thing happens and Sky fights tooth and nail to save her and they make up form like everything from s1 and s2!!! Yaya

After all that they are dating now, good for them, good for them. WAIT? WHATS GOING ON?? ITS VALTOR WITH THE STEEL CHAIR!!! SKLOOM IS ON THE FUCKING FLOOR!!! God they are such a fucking mess goddamn

Riven very quickly points out that Sky was under mind control and Bloom feels bad and she goes to save him and they talk about it and they're fine mostly. They talk about it, it hurt them both but it doesn't fuck them up completely

The first movie is the same except they don't get engaged, please calm down both of you, think about this for a little longer, but they're happy and good for them

Stella/Brandon:

Literally the only thing I would change is that they are obviously in a relationship early in s1 and they DON'T break up after the reveal, even though Brandon thinks they're broken up

That's it, aside from that no notes

Musa/Riven:

The show ends after the first movie, the later seasons don't exist and can't hurt me (<- are currently hurting me)

In season one it's established that Musa and Riven met before the season and Musa remembers the interaction a better than Riven does, instead of her seeing Riven act like a dick and then suddenly liking him. She's already seen the soft side of him and she wants the "mean to everyone but me" relationship bc Musa is insane too ❤️

S1 and s2 should vibe most untouched aside from this and Riven and Musa should both acknowledge that they like each other at the beginning of s2 but don't get in a relationship bc Riven isn't emotionally ready 4 another relationship so soon after Darcy and Musa is nomral about it (she's not).

S3 except the golden Kingdom is slightly different, the worry Riven is feeling is shown over anything else. Yeah I'll keep the motorcycle thing in, Riven can't communicate and Musa has a mood disorder they're gonna get into a couple dump fights at first. That's just being mentally ill they're fine. They should like immediately make up tho, like as someone who knows people like this the apologies for being insane bc you had a mood swing or can't read social cues are like so quick

Keep the first movie but Riven doesn't have to relearn any lessons, he is simply vibing and in love with Musa and breaks out of mind control bc of his resounding guilt after being forced to hurt her

Tecna/Timmy:

TIMMY DOESN'T HAVE TO PROVE HIMSELF IN S2!!!! EVERYTHING STAYS THE SAME BUT THAT

Okay and Tecna doesn't explicitly state she doesn't want a relationship bc then it feels weird when she gets into one

But like in s2 when Tecna gets pissed at Timmy for not intentionally picking a fight he can't win that could get him killed?? She's treated as the one in the wrong and has to learn to be more chill than Timmy having to do anything, he literally wasn't in the wrong

S2 was so disrespectful to Timmy I SWEAR

Flora/Helia:

GIVE THEM MORE THAN ONE CHARACTER TRAIT!!!!!

Flora stops having a personality after this, please let her yell at people in begging you. Give Flora a character arc I'm begging you

Helia doesn't have a personality!! He has a bunch of implications and he's literally never around in s2 OR s3!! So often it's the winx and specialists except Helia!!

Let them like express different sides of their personality and give Helia more screen time, that's all I ask

I'm on my knees begging you

I can't even say anything because there's literally nothing to go off of

Take the shab stone comic and put it into the show

Aisha/Nabu:

Please imagine a world where Aisha is arranged to marry someone and that person and her love interest are two different ppl

Keep it the same except Nabu isn't her arranged partner, they meet while fighting on Andros and Nabu keeps showing up because he ran away from home and has no idea what the fuck he's doing without all his servants and he's asking Aisha for help djwbdbwjsbwnwbs

That would be MY ideal for them but if have to keep the large plot points the same I wouldn't change anything, like my problem is the inciting incident of their relationship the development itself is cute, but id want them to become official in s4 instead. Only Florelia (sane people) and Brella (soulmates) can get away with the one season romance and make it feel natural, Aisha would not get into a relationship that quickly, but that's a nitpick if anything

No other Aisha relationships exist and if they did they'd be with Roy and not Nex shut up

[randomalistic]

Ok oh my god. OH MY GOD. I just saw treasure planet for the first time and It was fucking amazing. Like yeah Duh I KNOWWW i know it’s like. “underrated Disney movie bla bla it was a commercial failure” . You know the deal.

But if there is 1 thing I want to say:

I cannot emphasize enough how meaningful and touching it is to the audience when you allow your male main characters to cry, and hug, and be emotionally vulnerable without shame. That brought this film to a whole new level 🥺

its a beautiful movie that took so many creative risks and that’s so admirable. It’s so clear they had a vision and they crafted that vision with endless amounts of love :’] I DID CRY.

More rambling below

I was CONSISTENTLY delighted by how creative the characters were and incredibly entertained throughout. So fucking fun and engaging and it feels like a 2 hour movie so much happens. How is it only 1.5 hours.

I CRIED !!!!!!!!!! John Silver and Jim’s relationship was so COMPLEX like actually amazing. The father figure dynamic is so sweet and heartwarming and so heartbreaking simultaneously like I was not expecting that AMV montage in the middle like that shit cut me so deep it was outstanding. A montage about Jim’s troubled childhood with a neglectful absent father and then DIRECTLY PARALLELING THAT WITH HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH SILVER. LIKE HES FINALLY OVERCOMING THOSE FEELINGS AND LIVING HIS LIFE. GODDAMN!!! THATS SO POWERFUL!! THATS SO INCREDIBLE!!! THATS JUST IN THE MOVIE!!!!??!

Also the character/creature designs are RELENTLESS in how good they are. And they have so much fun with it. It’s so silly.

They had an old snapping turtle pirate???? hello?? He was introduced and then he died ❤️

The animation is also MIND BLOWINF like OH MY GOD!??? the seamless integration of 2D and 3D interacting is so impressive especially for 2001 like this was a technological feat for sure . Only rarely does the CG look dated (those whales at the start <\3 poor guys) BUT JOHN SILVER’S CYBORG ARM WAS FUCKING AMAZING LIKE I COUKD STARE AT THAT THING FOR HOURS .

Can’t find a gif of it but during his introduction there was a ROTATING SHOT of him cooking (❤️) while using his arm and his arm has so many tools inside it like a cyborg Swiss Army knife it’s the coolest fucking thing ever. Just Amazing

Also the fact they introduced an entirely new character 53 minutes in when the main cast has already been established was such a risk, but it so paid off. I love B.E.N. The fact he’s fully 3D animated and he’s THAT expressive. WHILE BEING A ROBOT? adorable. He’s Adorable. He’s so mentally ill and strange.

What is wrong with him. He is. dare I say. spamtonlike. pathetic and unhinged. Houses forbidden knowledge. What a Pitiful creature 🧡his glowing CRT eyes are really cute. There was a moment when the lights went out it was only his eyes and I Liked That

I love weird little robot guys in early-late 2000s movies. I need to watch Bluesky robots. I need my fix.

Morph could’ve been a really obnoxious comedic relief animal sidekick but they somehow managed to make him really cute and likable. (Also They only used him for plot points A LITTLE. Turning into anything couldve been overpowered as fuck. But alas… he is a mindless animal...) We love Morph. His relationship with silver is so fucking cute.

Kind of a Delbert centrist honestly. I liked him but also kinda dislike him. Bro kinda gives self centered misogynist scientist vibes. But he’s also silly and self conscious though guyssss.!! I thought I would like him more than I did. BUT He’s animated SO wonderfully though I love the shape of his hands and his weird goat face. Solid 7/10 weird guy. Idk why he came with Jim on the ship though❤️

Captain Amelia was fucking awesome for the first half of the movie. One of the best characters. Yeah. ……………. They fumbled her so hard. MAYBE ITS JUST ME BUT ME AND MY FRIEND WERE NOT A FAN OF HER AND DELBERT AT ALL. Disney was like. We have a competent woman character ! Competent woman has to get injured and then the incompetent man has to take care of her and then they HAVE to fall in love. It’s actually so tragic like they did NOT deserve her.

IN FACT HERE’S MY SCORCHING HOT TAKE: Delbert should’ve been the one to get injured and Amelia nurses him back to health. Delbert might apologize profusely because of his self confidence issues and cuz he internalizes things that go wrong as his fault. Amelia reassures him, realizing that she was too harsh on him earlier. Delbert becomes less intimidated by her because she opens up to him and they grow to trust one another. Amelia stays with him while Jim goes to hide. And whapow !!!! Same relationship is built up without disempowering a female character. It doesn’t even have to be romantic they can just be friends……. 🫶 cuz it comes off as weird because since the start Delbert was like “wtf the captain is a GIRL?? Wait ooh la laaa she’s pretty” and she had 0 interest in him. so like the ONLY way they could pair them together was to get her injured and have him care for her . And she falls in love with him out of nowhere. No. Being cared for does not mean you’ll fall in love with your caretaker. She’s so ace coded to me and my friend. Until SUDDENLY. Am I crazy

Ok so like yeah the forced heterosexual love interest moment. I did not want to see their FOUR (4) hybrid babies at the end. I’m losing my mind. also did Jim become a cop? I swear to fucking god LOL

The movie was SO good that disney didn’t know how to wrap it up without ruining it ❤️ WHICH IS VERY INTERESTING I think they had to compensate for all the risks they took with a safe and weird ending where the police like him now and the police are ok guys. Disney approved

Anyways watch/rewatch the movie right now. Skip the final minute <3

One of my new favorite movies goddamn!

Edit: I would’ve forgiven them if Delbert got pregnant instead

[where-are-the-spooky-gays-2]

I talk about Virgil a lot so here are some random (some AU specific, some not, NOT ALL IN THE SAME AU) headcanons I have for Remus with mediocre elaboration:

— low empathy autistic. Has to be taught some empathy. I don't mean he's a danger, I just mean it doesn't initially occur to him that something might hurt someone emotionally. Also this usually comes with more of an explanation but I ✨don't remember the entire explanation✨

— he/they/it/various neos. I just think they'd vibe with it. I don't think he'd totally rock with she/her but y'all know headcanons are individual and I very much love seeing she/her and transfem Remus too <33

— tics. Sometimes they're worse than other times. Usually in a human au. Not with any specific disorder in mind when thought of

— this one is less mine and more my one friend's but Imma include it anyway: they wrote about him in one AU having a schizophrenia disorder. I don't remember the specifics but some of it was Remus seeing and hearing people/things that aren't there, which caused him and a lot of other people distress, and it furthered their "this is why people look at him odd but really he's not odd" agenda. He thought he was broken. Nope turns out his brain's just a bit different. Cue "ohhhhhh"

— y'know 80s/90s punk aesthetic? Yeah. Also thrifts like a bitch like they're out there all the time.

— walking calculator and can do a truly abhorrent level of math in his head. But cannot for the life of them do English. Like what the fuck is a semi colon. Ain't that the thing in your body?

— marine biologist or a mortician for his job I CANNOT decide.

— has horror movies as comfort movies <3 like "okay I'm sleeping now hmmm I'll put on the original Halloween" and then dozes off to it

— has facial hair other than the mustache. Removes the facial hair other than the mustache

— truly the most monstrous mullet you have ever seen except it's somehow hot. Like against all odds it's hot on it.

— writes down its worst intrusive thoughts in a notebook and when the notebook is full, burns it. That way it's an almost symbolic way of "FUCK these ideas"

— cusses just so goddamn much

— in some few AUs (I have to specify); smoker. Started as a teenage rebellion habit and now it's kicking their ass.

— tooth gap. I fucking love tooth gap.

— the grey streak isn't dye actually it's a birth mark. Roman has a similar one but he dyes it (neither brother is bothered by this)

— has fake blood splattered on several pairs of shoes just because it can and they think it looks cool

— reaaaaaally tries to pretend they don't care about Roman (highschool specific au) but also shows up for all of his theater shows and is always giving a standing ovation every time and has cried at a few performances (but definitely not no because they're too cool 😎.. *sobs*)

I feel like this is too many but ya get my vibes for him? :D I hope. I love them. They're so cool. It's just. AAAA

— 👑

Dude I fucking L O V E all of these S O fucking much oml!!! These really match Ree's vibes and them being a walking calculator is S O fucking underrated (Also “What the fuck is a semi colon ain't that the thing in your body?” is so R E A L XD) I really dig the notebook burning thing I think it would really help get it's thoughts out and he can find it therapeutic because F I R E <3 Also the highschool one has me cackling just

Remus: I could give less of a shit about Ro

Remus: *goes to all of his shows*

Remus: *sobbing and clapping* That's my fuckin' twin y'all!

True Punk behavior XD

[recklessfiction]

Writing Inspiration - Horror Movies -

The Thing (1982)

The Thing kills it with creature design and captures the vibe of horrors beyond our own rational understanding. I love Kurt Russell also, he's very capable and attractive and has fabulous hair.

The Wicker Man (1973)

The original Wicker Man is very much a christianity vs the "old ways" story. A fish out of water story, a warning to the christian about getting in too deep. It's really good, the kind of religious clashing I personally love to see.

The Lighthouse (2019)

What can I even say about this movie? It's weird, it folkloric, its otherwordly. It does what I love which is show a dull staple in mythology, in this case the mermaid/sea god, and made it weird again, made it strange and unsettling. It's made the sea and what is in the sea something to fear. Its my vibe but certainly not everyone's.

Pan's Labyrinth (2006)

GDT doesn't miss. I love when people make fairy tales frightening, and the creatures in them are weird and strange. I love fairy tales that are horror because that's what they've always been, warnings and something to scare children, and Pan's Labyrinth kills it!

Curse of the Demon (1957)

This is really just a comfort movie for me but it's very good and you should watch it.

Mad God (2021)

Mad God is something else. Not everyone's cup of tea, gross, horribly violent, uncomfortable, and odd. But I think it's wonderful in its wild creativity and strangeness. I like that it's more of a dream, shooting in wild directions with no real story line. It's a journey that you're just a part of and can't escape from, a nightmare.

Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust (2000)

Beautiful movie. Gorgeous. Love that the vampires are strange looking but still beautiful and dignified, it speaks to the level of artistry and creativity that Yoshitaka Amano has.

Suspiria (1977)

This movie something you need to watch to understand. It's not just images, its the soundtrack, the colours, the shots and cuts. Its an entire sensory experience with music by Goblin.

Hellraiser (1987)

A classic. Again, the designs rock and the atmosphere is wonderful. Sex and death and blood and meat, man. Lust and unfinished bodies but its still sexy even though your goddamn muscle juices are dripping onto the floor. It's great.

Evil Dead 2 (1987) & Army of Darkness (1992)

The king of horror comedy, I wish I had as much charisma and jokes as Ash Williams. A great time in general.

The Horror of Dracula (1958)

I enjoy the Hammer horror films over Universal simply because of the life that's in them. They're funny and have a lot of action and are seductive while the Universal versions, while wonderful in their own right, are more dramatic, and lowkey. I love the Horror of Dracula with all my heart, Peter Cushing is so dignified even as he's jumping onto tables and running around constantly, and it's just a lot more fun!

Annihilation (2018)

When I first saw this movie, my first thought was that the characters were entering a fairy ring. The otherworldlyness of The Shimmer, it's beauty even in the horrific parts of itself, in the alligator and the other body horror elements, is something I love. Making decay and and death and horror beautiful, so much so that you start to question whether or not you should be afraid (the answer is of course yes you should be.)

[teal-sharky]

I've finished Steven Universe Movie after watching all of the original show for the first time over the course of last three months and now you have to suffer my brain gunk release in this form of the post.

Firstly I want to be clear, I said it two episodes in and after the entire show, my stance hasn't changed; Steven Universe should die. I hate that rat bastard. Worst part of the good show. Yes it says things about me. Yes the things that it says about me are probably intense goddamn personal projection and inability to forgive myself, shut the fuck up. Didn't ask.

Lot of people really miss out on solid goddamn, highly imaginative and original sci-fi for all the touchy feely shit. I'm pretty convinced that people like F. Pohl and C.Clarke would have been stoked. They'd have loved it. This shit has some real golden era scifi vibes in it, including how aggressive it is in using sci-fi to talk about feelings and thoughts people are often not ready to digest in purely realistic context. Good shit.

Peridot is the best gem. If you disagree you're fucking stupid. Fuck you.

I was serious though, Steven really should have died. Lars should have died harder too. My wife gaslit me for like two months about how "lars is actually going to die". I was so fucking angry when he didn't die permanently. Worst thing you've ever done to me, Teagan. This is the kind of a thing that will burden our relationship for decades. It will take a lot of healing to overcome this.

Garnet should be my mom imho.

Can't believe Jasper caught syphilis from fucking a dog.

Hereby I pitch a sequel videogame to round out the future of the galaxy;

An epic RPG set post Steven's untimely death (suicide by jackhammer).

In the ensuring power vacuum the need for new fourth diamond is felt, and various parties race to shape the fate of the universe. The possible true ending options are;

Greg and Pearl succeed creating Crack Cocaine. Gem empire's ensuring frenzy proceeds to destroy all organic life in the universe.

Amethyst and Lars succeed creating Crystal Meth. Gem empire's ensuring frenzy proceeds to destroy all gem life, organic life is preserved.

Peridot and Sadie create Rock Dab, gems learn to live in harmony with organics, with organo-gemic hybrids like Steven becoming common.

Devolver Digital, email me, all I'm asking for is funds for team of 10 for 24 months with demo available in 6 after we're given an office. It'll be a rogue-lite with variable gameplay style and narrative vibe somewhere between LISA and Undertale.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 9/19/2023

unknown flu-like-symptoms-but-not-the-flu-or-COVID problems

listening

no one particular thing has been stuck in my head so here are two short little things

new release Strike by La Femme is a delightful synthy one-minute sketch of a car chase in the pouring rain. spotify

Trumpet Sketches - Remastered by Janko Nilovic is a 1:40 doodle. when the organ hits... spotify

i have been following La Femme ever since i loved their credits song for As Above So Below, and the trumpet sketches are off the spotify recommended

-

reading

actually finished this book last tuesday, still reading berserk, but i don't have coherent berserk thoughts bc im still stuffing my entire elbow into my mouth and screaming about it.

The Stolen Coast, by Dwyer Murphy, has a lot of problems. the first problem is that the publisher bills it as a "noir jewel heist" novel when it is in fact a vibes novel about being sad and trapped in massachusetts. which, mood! but very much not what i or any other goodreads reviewer signed up for.

ABOUT THE STOLEN COAST Adrift in a sleepy coastal Massachusetts town, a man who ferries fugitives by day gets twisted up in a plot to pilfer diamonds in this Casablanca-infused heist novel.

Casablanca is a real fuckin goddamn reach. this is like saying Home Alone 2 and The Taking of Pelham 123 are similar bc they both have pivotal scenes in subways. when you are expecting a cool noir jewel heist and you get a vibes book, it feels very meandering and indecisive with exceptionally poor pacing and very light on the plot. dwyer knows how to put a sentence together, and there is a high degree of aesthetic polish, but i lived in mass and found myself filling in a lot of the vibes from lived experience. this is a book that expects you to already know *extremely* minute regional accent differences.

i often found myself more interested in the antagonist lawyer and his wife (who has a standing weekly appointment to fuck her bodyguard at the region's finest wedding destination hotel, and orders champage afterwards every week) than the protagonists of our story. the femme fatale loops all the way back around to manic pixie, which i didn't know was possible for a woman to do. as an example of the aesthetic polish but editorial disarray of the book, wherein we know so much about our protagonists but so little of it is relevant, i was convinced that "our main man Jack is a Harvard lawyer" was a long running gag for most of the book (a la "our good for nothing son is actually Very Important and just slumming it here") and was actually quite anxious to see if the actual lawyer would ferret him out, but no. jack is actually a real lawyer but it simply does not fucking matter.

there are a. number of happenings that mr murphy tries to pass off as luck and just like Ha Ha Things Just Break Like That Sometimes but it really just feels like acts of god. their planned heist breaks bad for them with no consequences and then breaks very well for them with very few consequences. this is not a long book. the actual heist felt like filling time.

it's a book that's very very good at capturing the New England depression and sense of stagnancy, for want of a nail etc, the bizarre little self-important snow globe everyone lives in, but everyone has such small ambitions. this is sort of the point of noir, that the rot never actually changes no matter what you do, but the protag is the perpetrator of the rot? this is largely a personal crisis that he’s choosing not to address. perhaps most unforgivably, for such a short book it dragged a whole fuck of a lot.

i have been betrayed by whoever did this npr book review

-

watching

Forty Guns (1957, dir Fuller). this is the most movie reviewer ass section ive written in a minute. this one is for sickos only. it is not an interesting movie by itself (choppy and kind of messy) but it is an interesting movie if you know the limitations of the genre and the hays code it's slamming up against.

there is simply So Much that happens in this movie (from the very good Criterion Collection essay):

While the story sounds rather tidy in summary, the plot of Forty Guns is rife with intrigue and action—juggling political corruption, theft, betrayal, an unwanted pregnancy, a serious maiming, three romances, four murders, and a suicide. 

there's some oddly dorky but endearing straight people visual and verbal double entendre. visually unique but does not stick its landing, and i don't know that i love the original ending as opposed to the studio ending either.

it gets a solid B on the "westerns i would let other people watch" list. not one of the top three movies to convince someone that some westerns are good actually, but a fun little weird offshoot of the genre.

why did i watch this: surely by seeing a post from another cowboyblogger? it was fairly recently added to my letterboxd watchlist, but the why of it i could not tell you

-

playing

im convinced theres a bug in the Court of Fontaine region in g/enshin bc i have been stuck at 97% for several weeks now. tick over to 100% godddamnit.

-

making

acquired all the stuff to dye a couch cover, have not actually dyed the couch cover, due to being down with some sort of sickness

[crochetedblorbos]

"Closure's for movies, mate. All we get are manky holes."

Character Name: Alice Dyer

Fandom: The Magnus Protocol [Podcast]

Voiced By: Billie Hindle

Yarn Used: Sandals: CraftSmart Value - Coffee Skin: CraftSmart Value - Peach Leggings: CraftSmart Value - Ivy Tunic: CraftSmart Value - Turquoise Mint Hair: CraftSmart Value - Curry Stripe: CraftSmart Value - Purple Mouth: Loops & Threads Soft Classic - Neon Pink Glasses: Ashland 12 Gauge Decorative Wire - Gold + Aunt Lydia’s Crochet Cotton - Wasabi

Basic pattern here.

Look. You can’t NOT love Alice. It’s basically illegal. She’ll be the first to tell you so, actually. I didn’t expect to love her as much as I do, let alone for her to be the first Protocol character I crocheted, but here we are. I’m working my ass off to get her done before the next mid-season hiatus, but we’ll see; I’m writing this paragraph after having only finished the first leg. Goddamn does she need a hug, though. [Crafter’s note: Not only did I finish her in time for the public release of Episode 20, I finished her in time for Pride Night at the local ballpark, so go me.]

I wasn’t entirely sure how I was going to do her, actually; the podcast is still relatively new and we don’t know anything about her physically other than that she’s trans, so I’m still getting an idea in my head for how she looks. Or I thought I was. But as I crocheted, a design…emerged. She differs from the base pattern as follows:

Shoes: I decided to give Alice sandals. (Was I thinking of a clip I saw from an old game of Super Password where the clue someone gave was “those ugly shoes that lesbians wear” and the other person immediately got that the answer was “Birkenstocks”? Mmmmaybe.) They…didn’t turn out necessarily as well as I’d hoped, but they work. Sort of. Anyway, I stitched two stitches in the brown on either side of the toe, then at the top of the foot did an ankle strap to tie it all together. Should have given her painted toenails, in retrospect, but eh…

Leggings: Alice’s attire could go two ways, in my mind. She could wear neat, tailored, neutral-colored business attire at all opportunities, or she could be an OH THANK GOD THERE ARE ACTUAL COLOR OPTIONS IN MY CLOTHING kind of trans woman, and frankly I crochet enough neutral business suits. Besides, she very much gives off “what are you gonna do, fire me?” vibes, so she’s not going to worry about if there’s a dress code in the office. So, bright green leggings! I gave her a row of skin between the ankles and the leggings, but other than that they’re done exactly like Joseph’s pants.

Tunic: Okay, it’s somewhere between a tunic and a dress, but whatever. I did R36 in the front loops of R35, then R37 in the back loops of R36, then continued the same as normal for the upper torso. I did give her a little bit of a V-neck in the last couple rounds. The hem was done as follows: R1: Join yarn to middle back of R36, ch 1, sc in each front loop around, sl st in first sc (36 sc). R2-3: Ch 1, [sc in first 6 st, hdc in next st, dc in next st, trc in next st, dtrc in next st, trc in next st, dc in next st, hdc in next st, sc in next 5 st] 2 times, sl st in first sc (22 sc, 4 hdc, 4 dc, 4 trc, 2 dtrc). R4: Ch 1, sc in first 9 st, hdc in next st, sc in next 17 st, hdc in next st, sc in next 8 st, sl st in first sc (34 sc, 2 hdc). R5: [Sl st in first 9 st, ch 1, dc in next st, ch 1, sl st in next 7 st] 2 times. Fasten off.

Head: I caved. I didn’t want to bother with the fur stitch, so instead I just stitched her scalp on as normal and then went back and used the loop method to hook in individual colors. On the other hand, doing it that way meant I could give her some funky stripes in her hair, so I gave her a purple streak because why the fuck not. I also gave her ears so her glasses would stay on. Basically, I did two chains on either side of the head to anchor them, then did three hdcs in each ch, then sl st the outside edges and joined the lobes to the head. (Also, just as a side note - the mouth is technically the same yarn as the rest of Alice; it’s the Michaels store brand, essentially. They rebranded their yarn a couple months back.)

Arms: I was trying to give her bell sleeves, but I don’t think they turned out quite the way I had them in mind. Anyway, I worked her arms in the skin color up to R12, then switched to the tunic color and did R13 in front loops only, R14 in back loops only, and continued up the arm. Once they were done, I went back to R13, joined the yarn back onto the loop, and: R1: Ch 1, sc in front loop of each st around, sl st in first sc (12 sc). R2: Ch 1, sc in first 2 st, hdc in next 2 st, dc in next 4 st, hdc in next 2 st, sc in next 2 st, sl st in first sc (4 sc, 4 hdc, 4 dc). R3: Ch 1, sc in each st around, sl st in first sc (12 sc).

Glasses: They’re…wobblier than I would have liked, but that’s just because I was working with the wire for the first time and I kinda cut it shorter than I should have. (I wanted them to be square.) Anyway, I had skimmed a book of various doll parts that I will likely be obtaining at some point (it had a pattern for a wheelchair in it even!), and its suggestion for glasses was to make them out of wire and then wrap them in embroidery floss. I’m not sure what happened to my embroidery floss, but I have lots and lots of crochet thread handy leftover from last year’s still unfinished whoops shut up temperature blanket, so I grabbed one at random. It happened to be Wasabi, so Alice has green glasses and y’all are just going to have to live with that.

[1lovesickfangirl1]

obligatory nerdy prudes must die tier list! (explaining under the cut)

Bully The Bully- OKAY THIS IS MY FAV SONG AT THE MOMENT IT'S SO FUN!! Just some kids planning to prank the bully and no one dies :D! I will now list some of my favorite parts because I love it so much

° the entire cool beans section (i used to say cool beans so much a few years ago)

° the jAgermAn??

° "Petey gonna jump on out *he jumps* "JAGER GONNA JAGER OUUUT" (been repeating this part a lot)

° "We're gonna make a dirty movie where the losers win, and the joke is on him!" (AAAAGH I LOVE HARMONIES)

Nerdy Prudes Must Die- Will and Jon in this song?? IM EATING THIS SHIT UP!!! Jon sounds so good omg. Max's ghost form is sick as hell.

High School Is Killing Me- the opening song is a bop. THE HARMONIESSS!!

Cool As I Think I Am Reprise- AAH THIS SONG DESTROYED ME. HOW DARE THEY BE IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER

Literal Monster Reprise- DUDE I LOVE WILL'S PERFORMANCE!! really hoping to see him in more Starkid stuff. performing this song looks so fun. Max is an asshole, but so goofy.

Lords In Black- idk why The Summoning and Lords In Black are separate things, thought The Summoning was the intro to the song but whatevs. love the designs of the lords in black. such a fun song, really should listen to it more.

If I Loved You- H A R M O N I E S!!! love when Pete was talking about the football team he swung his arms like a bat.

Bury The Body- love Grace being unhinged good for her. the panic is so good in this scene. again, HARMONIESS!! and hooray for cutting off nips.

Hatchet Town- EVERYONE SOUNDS SO GOOD. all the references were fun! it's giving McCarthyism

Cool As I Think As I Am- love Pete and love this song, but there are songs that i love WAY more. this song is iconic tho, it's got the line that comes back across the musical!! build that confidence king!

Dirty Girl- a Definite Bop. and Will is RIPPED GODDAMN. but maybe just a liiiittle too long. and when she was repeating im a good girl I was kinda uncomfy lmao.

Just For Once- playing a character that's playing a character sounds difficult so props to Lauren. liked seeing more of Ruth's character in this song. feeling like her life is over even tho she's still young (oh no it's relatable)

Best Of You- THEY WENT THROUGH HELL THEY DESERVE A CHEESY ENDING SONG!!

Dirty Dudes Must Die- WOO GRACE GET THOSE DIRTY DUDES

Literal Monster- it's alright, don't have any strong feelings about it. Kim SLAYED her part tho!

The Summoning- just an intro, points for spooky vibes

Go Go Nighthawks- very unfortunate that this goes at the bottom of the list. love the football guys <3 FUCK YOU CLIVESDALE!!! it's good but just really repetitive :/

[descendantofthesparrow]

Once Upon a December - The Invitation - Walter x Reader - P13

outfit

Witch of Carfax castle/Lady Deville

=

Hahaha, this is about you

Beware, beware, be skeptical Of their smiles, their smiles of plated gold Deceit so natural But a wolf in sheep's clothing is more than a warning -

You stared at yourself in the mirror, hands in your pockets as Harrison paced behind you, adjusting his cufflinks every few moments as he muttered to himself. You took one last glance at your outfit, smirking at the elegant pattern that covered the jacket you had stolen from Harrison to really give that-witch of Carfax Castle vibe.

“Darling” you cooed, stopping him in his tracks as he turned to you, his brows furrowed in immense worry. He was scared. Not for himself, but for you-what if Viktoria got a hit in, and you got hurt? What if you were taken from him again? “I’ll be okay, we have a plan; it ends tonight, with us.”

Harrison slowly nodded, taking your outstretched hands and bringing them to his lips, lingering on your ring “As soon as I can” Harrison muttered into your skin, his ocean-blue eyes staring into yours “I’m going to marry you again, I want everyone to know you are my wife, in this life and the last.”

You felt your face flush, shaking your head as you chuckled, “Sap,” you muttered, stepping closer to him and bumping your forehead into his “you would really go through all that trouble, just for us to be legally married in this century?” Harrison smirked, his fangs out and ready.

“I would go through brimstone and fire; just to yell to the world that I’m your boyfriend, let alone your husband.” you snorted at his words, shaking your head, kissing him softly and shortly; rolling your eyes as you pulled away “And they say girls are the sentimental ones of a relationship” you teased, giggling as Harrison rolled his eyes, grabbing your cheeks and pecking your nose. “Okay okay, now go, you have an act to sell.”

Harrison groaned, not super happy to be ‘Walter’ again; having to act as if you didn’t exist and he was an emotionless monster. But he nodded, pecking your lips once more and walking out of the room.

You took a deep breath, turning to the mirror once more.

You could do this; you were going to do this.

-

She was actually doing this-she was actually going to go through with this. Yeah-there was a plan, Harrison knew she was going to say ‘I don’t’, and you were going to take care of Viktoria the moment shit started going down.

But still-the entire idea was terrifying! What if someone caught you before you could come to the rescue? what if Harrison was tricking the both of you? What if you were in on it?

The last one was just a panicked idea, and she knew you wouldn’t hurt her like that. But still-she had been shoved into a goddamn horror movie, so please forgive her mind for spiraling.

Evie swallowed harshly as a gold tiara was set into her hair, her fists clenched at her sides as several maids finished getting her ready. “There you go ma’am” one maid whispered, resting the veil over Evie’s face. “Five minutes,” another maid said, opening the door to the Alexander suite, Great uncle Alfred stepping through.

“You look wonderful my dear,” he said with a smile, but it only made Evie shiver in disgust. How could this man, her great uncle-just so easily hand her over to a vampire? Easy, he was a privileged white man. Evie kept her eyes on the floor as Alfred took her arm, slowly leading her out of the suite and down towards the chapel.

Evie glanced down the hallway towards the master-suites; yours and Harrison’s rooms. She blinked at the small flash of red within the darkness, a hand suddenly resting on her back. Evie subtly pressed back into it, feeling much better knowing you had her back; figuratively and literally.

Your hand stayed on her back as she and Alfred descended the stairs and went into the servant's tunnels that linked into the hidden chapel; Evie’s shoulders tensed and her breathing picked up as the dark room surrounded her, her vision impaired by the veil on her face. Your hand moved from her back to her shoulder “You’re not alone Eve, I’m right behind you” you whispered, so quietly Evie wasn’t sure you even talked.

As the attending crowd stood, and the very creepy music played, your hand left her-leaving her alone. But she knew you would be there, making sure she got home safe, and Harrison would too. She would be okay, she just had to sell the act.

Which wasn’t hard, her breath was nearly panicked, cheeks warm and painted with tears. Evie spotted the old couple that had ended up sending her right back into this hell hole, her cousin, the man who had basically invited her to her doom; standing behind them.

Evie wondered for a moment; if she could ask Harrison to take care of him, as an apology. He probably would. Evie heard Viktoria tell Lucy to stop smiling, and Evie swallowed harshly, Lucy had helped Harrison free you, and helped her escape-she hoped Lucy wouldn’t be hurt in what was to come.

Evie was thrown back into reality as she and Alfred came to a stop in front of the alter, Alfred tossed up her veil and planted a gross kiss on her cheek; attempting to make it seem like it was a normal wedding. But this was far from a normal wedding, she didn’t love the groom one bit, and the woman he loved was at the back; cloaked by the darkness of the chapel.

‘keep it together, you’ll be home free soon, you got this’ Evie told herself, kneeling next to Harrison, who sneakily reached out and squeezed her hand. She squeezed back. ‘you got this’

“We are gathered here this evening,” Evie finally noticed the large black-cloaked man that stood before her and Harrison, swallowing harshly as he continued to speak in a dark-low tone. This was some-fucking culty ass shit. If she was terrified now, she couldn’t imagine how she would feel if you didn’t exist and Harrison was still planning on turning her and forcing her to marry him. “To sanctify the union, between our benevolent master, and his new bride; from the Alexander bloodline.”

Evie knew she would be back in New York in only a few days, she knew about the plan, and she knew you wouldn’t let anything happen to her. But gods the panic that set in at those words, she reached up, clutching her necklace as a new flood of tears streamed down her cheeks. She could see Diya chained off to the side, marked to be Evie’s first meal as a vampire; she looked terrified. Harrison glanced at her, licking his lips almost nervously before looking back at the officiant/cult member. “Long may they flourish”

“May the bridesmaidens, rejoice,” the crowd said behind Evie, all speaking in unison. Evie swallowed, she hated this, all of it. “Master,” the man in black said, turning to Harrison “Do you take this woman to be your bride?” Harrison glanced at Evie, then subtly behind him; seeing a small red flare within the darkness. He looked back at the officiant. “I do” he said calmly, easily keeping his act of Walter up as he heard Viktoria take a sharp breath; she didn’t approve of Evie, but she didn’t approve of not being at full power even more.

Too bad her little power trip would be ended in a few minutes. Harrison smirked at the thought. “And do you,” the officiant turned to Evie, who was practically zoning out; her body practically shaking at the fear that was gripping her heart “Evelyn Alexander, take the master to love, honor, serve and obey, for all the days of your eternal life?”

Evie took a shaking breath, seeing Harrison look at her through the corner of her eye, she could feel your presence at the back of the chapel. You were there, Harrison wouldn’t hurt her; Viktoria wouldn’t get the chance.

She could do this.

She could do this.

“No.” Evie muttered, but everything was quiet enough to where it echoed through the dark chapel. Everyone gasped, and she could easily imagine Oliver’s eyes widening in fear as Viktoria got to her feet. “No?” Viktoria hissed, her eyes blazing and her fangs barred, Harrison kept his eyes on Evie; trying to tell her he wouldn’t let her get hurt-while also trying to keep up his act.

Everyone was silent, knowing not to speak when the (2nd) oldest bride of Deville was speaking “No?” Viktoria said again, as if she couldn’t believe Evie would throw away the ‘gift’ of eternal life. “How-selfish of you. Just like your great grandmother; a filthy nig-“ she didn’t get the chance to finish that sentence, a red gleam appearing from the darkness with the coldness of your voice.

“Watch your mouth” you hissed, blasting the woman back into the alter, sending the banners crashing to the floor as the crowd gasped in fear; many frozen in shock as you appeared out of the darkness, your body glowing with the red marks of your magic. “It’s the twenty-first century Viktoria, get with the times. That language ain’t in style anymore” you said calmly, standing in the middle of the aisle as Viktoria stumbled out of the rubble that was once the altar-the officiant standing off to the side.

“What is the meaning of this?” Oliver asked, getting to his feet, squeaking as you and Harrison met him with glowing red eyes. “I’ll take care of you later, rat” you muttered, making him shut up and sit down; very much realizing he was in deep shit for tricking Evie, the other families, and the guests-realized this as well.

They were fucked.

Viktoria hissed, glaring at Lucy as she started to stand-her eyes wide. “Sit back down” Lucy just stared at her, blinking; gasping as Viktoria suddenly appeared in front of you, using her inhuman speed to slash at your cheek. You yelped in pain, Harrison quickly getting to his feet and grabbing Viktoria’s arm, practically growling as he threw her back and into the alter stairs; Evie quickly got to her feet and rushed over to Diya, she did not need to be in the middle of all that. “Get the fuck away from my wife you bitch” he hissed, standing in front of you protectively, the wedding crowd began to stand and get out of the chapel; they didn’t want to be thrown in the middle of this fight.

But they were all confused about ‘Walter’s’ words.

Wife?

“Wife?” Viktoria hissed, a look of near betrayal on her face. Her fangs and claws were fully out, her eyes flaring with rage “WIFE?!” Harrison just bared his fangs right back “Yes. Wife. We’ve been married since my first year as a vampire. And I’ll be damned if I let you hurt her.” Viktoria and Harrison held a small staring contest as everyone ran out of the chapel, Lucy standing to the side-unsure of what to do; Evie was trying to free Diya.

“Oh no you don’t” Viktoria hissed as she noticed Evie, turning and reaching towards her, Diya about to scream when a red mist-like magic curled around Viktoria’s wrist, once again throwing her back into the wall. “Get Evie out of here,” you told Harrison, stepping in front of him, keeping your eyes on Viktoria; who stumbled to her feet-this being her third time being thrown into something. “I’ll handle the bitch”

Harrison looked concerned, but he knew you could handle her. So he kissed the back of your head, telling you to be careful; he rushed over to Evie and broke Diya’s chains, leading them out of the chapel. “Lucy!” Evie yelled, the youngest bride snapping back to reality and about to follow-stopping when Viktoria hissed “You fall back in line” she spat out-glaring Lucy down.

Lucy just stared, then took a step, then another. Then she ran, picking up her skirt and leaving. Viktoria screamed, enraged; all of her control was slipping through her fingers. All because of “you” she snarled, her eyes nearly black as she clenched her hand, you mirrored her movement, your magic curling in your palm; the marks on your body pulsing with a red glow. “Me” you teased, smirking.

You caught her first swing, holding her firm with your magic as she screamed. You dodged the second, releasing her other arm as she whirled around and kept trying to slash at your throat with her claws. You were silent as she screamed and growled with each swing, insults pouring from her lips like water “insolent-little witch-home wrecker-peasant-You just had to come in-and ruin-EVERYTHING!“

You caught her arms, holding her there as she panted heavily, glaring right into your eyes. You smirked “You did it first, bitch.” was all you said before you muttered the incantation under your breath. “Necronom Hezberek Mortix” you could feel the power, gifted to her by Harrison-to which was gifted from you-draining from her, flowing back into you from your grip on her wrists. She gasped in pain, her body shaking as she felt her strength leave her.

“No-No!” she screeched, planting her foot on your chest and pushing you back; holding her hands to her chest as you released her and hit the floor. you coughed a bit, shaking your head as you sat up. “How-how in the hell-“ Viktoria whispered to herself, looking down at her shortened nails, they were still sharp and black-but she could see they weren’t as long, no longer claws. Her fangs were nearly gone as well. Just her canines now.

“How-“ she whispered again, glaring as you got to your feet, smirking at her “I gave Harrison his powers,” you said with a knowing smirk, dusting off your knees and tilting your head to the side “You really thought I couldn’t take them back?” The fear that went through her entire face was all too delicious. “Now that you have something to lose, why don’t you fight me for real; that was a cute warm up but” you cracked your neck, your eyes flashing red.

“I’m hungry for a real fight. Now give me your best shot.”

She just stared at you for a moment, then bared what was left of her fangs, snarling as she ran at you-she wasn’t as fast as she was before-but she was still faster than a human, once again swinging at you with her claws. Like before, you dodged and weaved between the swings, catching a few and redirecting her attacks. Soon enough she had backed you out of the chapel and into the servant's pathways; you knew you couldn’t fight in such an enclosed space-so you rushed for the main hallway-yelping as she slashed into your back just as you reached it.

You hit the floor, turning over to avoid her downward swings, glaring up at you as she snarled and huffed like a wild animal; fighting for its survival. Which she was, you had the power to take her down too easily, she wasn’t losing it all to some-girl-from Harrison’s past.

You caught a swing aimed at your face, and pushed it to the floor, your leg pulsing with red energy as you kicked her back. She hit one of the pillars with a crash, the stone crumbling behind her weight. “Fuck” she crushed, shaking her head as she got to her feet, she wasn’t as durable as she used to be; all thanks to that draining spell.

“That all you got?” you chuckled, getting to your feet and holding your hands out, red energy gathering in your palms. She screamed, leaping at you, slamming her fists into the shield you had created, you let out a huff, feeling the strain of using your magic so much in such a little time after-practically never using it.

Her foot found your stomach, sending you to the floor. you groaned, rolling quickly to avoid her heel and getting up as quickly as you could, blocking another one of her swings as she screamed out “I’LL KILL YOU!”

“You kill me, you kill yourself!” you yelled back, blocking her hard swing with your forearm as she aimed for your head. She wouldn’t listen, completely fueled by rage and hate. You called up shields and redirected her attacks, breathing heavily as you felt that strain increase; this was going on for far too long. You needed help, you needed Harrison-besides, he deserved to get his hits in, considering Viktoria hadn't just hurt you, she had hurt him through you.

Just as that thought ran through your mind, Viktoria was struck in the face and thrown to the floor; Harrison standing above her, fangs bared and snarling, before he quickly ran to your side. He curled his arms around you; furrowing his brows at your near-exhausted state. “love?” he whispered, tensing as Viktoria hissed as she slowly got to her feet.

“Do you trust me?” you asked, looking into his eyes; glancing at the dragon statue at the bottom of the stairs, just to your left. He followed your gaze, then back at Viktoria; nodding. “Always”

“Cute” Viktoria grumbled, blood running from her nose, Harrison had broken it. “I can't wait to see the look on your face when I rip her heart out.” Harrison just smirked, curling his arms further around you, as you whispered something into his ear; almost as if it was a secret between star-crossed lovers.

“What are you two…doing” Viktoria’s words faded out as a black smoke surrounded Harrison, his eyes glowing brightly as you both disappeared within the swirling smoke. She stumbled back as it grew in size, doubling-tripling-until the ceiling crumbled; screams of terror and panic echoed from just outside the manor-the families and guests running for their lives as the walls of the manor crumbled at the force of a set of-gigantic-black wings spread; black-scaled claws hitting the marble floor-cracking it with its weight and power.

“He’s-no-that’s not” Viktoria whispered, completely enveloped by fear as the dust began to clear-two large, glowing, blue and sharpened eyes staring back down at her, a figure sitting on the arch of its spiked neck.

“HE CAN TURN INTO A FUCKING DRAGON?!” Evie screamed from outside, her and Diya holding each other as Lucy stared. Harrison had turned into a dragon, the form he rarely took-a form he only took to protect you.

The son of the dragon.

The protector of the witch of Carfax Castle.

Harrison let out a low grumble from his chest, smoke spilling from his fang-lined mouth; his eyes tracking Viktoria as she began to head for the manor doors-stopping as she saw they were completely blocked “please-mercy” she whimpered, feeling pure fear-something she hadn’t felt since she was human. She looked into your eyes, searching for something-anything-that would allow her to live.

You stared back, feeling every bit of your usual kindness…missing. “No,” you said, voice echoing across the grounds as everything went silent, Harrison waited on your words with a satisfied purr. “…Dracarys”

With that one word, Harrison released a torrent of fire directly at Viktoria, her screams echoing through the night as she was burnt to a crisp. By the time Harrison pulled off at the gentle pat of your hand, Viktoria was nothing but ashes, and fire began to spread through the manor.

You waved your hand, summoning everyone's stuff to sit in the unharmed gardens; not wanting anything important to burn. Harrison huffed, glad to leave this part of his life behind as he gave one heavy flap of his dark wings. He took to the air and landed gently next to the garden, turning to black smoke as he hit the soft grass, his arms protectively wrapped around you as he returned to human form; the two of you staring at the burning mansion.

“That was the scariest, and coolest thing I’ve ever seen!” Evie yelled as she ran up to the both of you, Diya staying back as Lucy ran after Evie, her eyes wide with a new sense of freedom. You chuckled, Harrison releasing your shoulders as Evie slammed into you, squeezing you tightly. “Is it over?” Evie asked, and you nodded, hugging her back and pushing your cheek into her head.

“yeah, it’s over” you muttered, looking at the burning manor, everything within being swallowed by the flames. “so,” Lucy said quietly, sliding off her gold ring and letting it drop to the grass, intertwining her fingers afterward-unsure of what to do with her hands “what now?”

You blinked, turning to Harrison, who just gave you a tired smile “I’ll follow you anywhere my love” he whispered, and you smiled back. You knew exactly what you were going to do now.

-end of part 13-

Well-this is the 2nd draft of p13, the first version was about-five pages shorter and paced horribly, so hopefully, this version was much better for not only my eyes, but for yalls eyes-and I hope yall liked p13!!! I think the next part is gonna be the epilogue, which probably won’t be short at all lolololol

See yall next time~!

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[hood-ex]

Finished JJK 0

I didn't know the movie was a prequel. I just wanted Yuji to show up the entire time lmao. The blorbo effect of me having a hard time focusing unless blorbo characters are involved.

No but I did manage to focus well enough, and I like that I got to know the year 2 students (or year 1 in this case) better, especially Maki. It makes things more interesting with her sister as well.

I've decided I hate the fact that Toge can only say a handful of curses before he has to tap out. I get that it's a weakness factor of his ability, buuut I still wish he could spit curses for longer than that.

Hearing "goddamn" in a Japanese accent was funny.

Oh yeah the heart nipples dude like what lmao.

I'm interested in seeing how Yuta and Yuji will interact with each other. I feel like their priorities are a bit more in sync in terms of saving/protecting people.

Todo and his Takada-chan agenda lmaooo. That's honestly such a hilarious motive to kick ass faster.

The entire time I was like is Kenjaku that forehead scar dude from season 1. I don't remember if his name was ever revealed in season 1, if so, I clearly didn't hear or memorize it. And then I always just recognized him by the forehead scar, so since he didn't have that in the movie I was like hmm is that the same guy. Are they different men entirely.

Naaaur I just wanna see Yuta and Yuji kicking ass together tbh. Not sure if Yuta returns in season 2, but I feel like he would since the movie was about him.

Ughhh I keep wanting to refer to the characters by their last names instead of their first names since in the sub they always go by their last names. Gojo feels more correct to me atm lmao so anyway I get Gojo's eyes are doing something but idk what, and I don't really care, I just know shit will rock harder when his mask comes off (*cough* Kakashi vibes *cough*) . And no yeah keep your mask on please sir bc those eyes are like elves on cocaine at the Christmas shindig.

Ummm what else... Nanami being a boss as usual. I don't usually buy geek merch, but I'm suddenly wanting a Nanami something of sort. Sticker maybe. Maybe I can slap him over the Nightwing sticker on the back of my phone case.

Kasumi is just a cutie patootie. Looks like a cinnamon roll... could actually kill you. Her hair makes me want to eat a blue Icee though.

I've been wondering who Gojo's teacher was and bam. No teacher reveal. But! Gojo and uhh what's his face... scar man. Scanning my above points quickly to try and find his name... oh Kenjaku. Yeah them being classmates wasn't necessarily surprising. Just because Kenjaku obviously knew a lot about Gojo based on season 1.

I don't remember if I was distracted or it simply wasn't mentioned, but I don't know what Yuta's skills are now. Like what's her face dead girl love monster, her curse self died, and so he shouldn't have access to her assistance now, right? But is her curse energy still embedded in the sword? So he's just a cursed sword user now? Or is he still insanely powerful?

Welp on to season 2 I suppose. I need Yuji's loud annoying ass back in front of my eyes pronto.

[lookismaddict]

Lookism Chapter 435 Memes/Thoughts I Have:

(SPOILERS !!! I don’t own any of the Lookism panels and the translations. Only the memes that I made.)

Not much happened here, so Imma keep this short and simple.

Nah mf, you lied.

Ohhhh shit, the return of Zack 2.5!!! 😳 (2.5 because Zack got a glow-up and got stronger. So that’s his 2.0. Plus, Kwak Jihan is like, HALF of Zack here. 2nd half is Gun.) The “Kya~” 💀 AND OFC DANIEL WOULD PULL IT OFF. HE ISN’T ONE OF YOUR SIDE-CHICK LACKIES BRO. 😭

Um… because he can? Why? Is Jinyoung your side hoe? Like… why are you all over his di-

Goddamn, that bite mark tho and those scars on his chest. Can I just…

“Lord” ? Oh “Lord”, I knew he had some type of praising kink- 💀💀💀💀

You already know that guys who drink makgeolli like this are actual freaks. Like… it’s obvious. 💀 Bruh I really wanna try makgeolli. I wonder if it tastes sweeter than straight soju or something…

Also, same pot? 👀

Bro... what the fu... When did this arc turn into a whole horror movie? 😭😭😭

*WARNING: IF YOU GET SCARED EASILY, THEN I SUGGEST YOU GO HOME FOR THIS ONE. SCROLL DOWN AND DON'T LOOK!!!*

OOMFASKDJFHASDKJFHASDFJHASDFIAHFIEWHFIERHQWEIFHQWEIFHQWEFIOQWHQWHQFUHQWERFUQHE4FUIQ4H DUUUUUUUUUUUUUDE, WTF?!?!!?!?!? I JUST GOT JUMPSCARED WHILE READING THIS CHAPTER. WTH MAN. I DIDN'T KNOW WE GOING BACK TO THE CULT ARC. TF???

AND BROOOO WHAT IS THIS, THE MANDELA CATALOGUE????? PTJ PUTTING ALTERNATES NOW IN HIS CHAPTER??? (I love that channel btw and I love Analog horror. 🖤) PERO HNNNNNGGGGGHHHH WTFFFFFFFFF!!!

NAH, FUCK YOU!! YOU AND THAT PET HOARDER FROM THAT ONE ARC SHOULD BE BESTIES, BC WTFFFFFF. YOU GUYS ARE SCARY AF. I'LL YEET YOU INTO THE PILE OF PSYCHOS BRUV. YOU GOING IN WITH THE WHOLE ENTIRE DOG GOD CULT, DANIEL'S STALKER, ZOE'S STALKER, AND THE REST OF THEM. ALL OF YOU, GET INTO THE PIT AND BURN IN THE FLAMES OF HELL!!!

PTJ really giving us these angles man, sheesh... Man's wearing BAPE TOO? Bape underwear bruv. I can't- 💀 These mf's flexing on us, even with expensive underwear on. I'm dying in the inside.

Bitch you thought. (Also, he's giving me Gun vibes here. Shiiiiiiiiiiiit... Calm down, my feral ass, it's NOT HIM...)

AWWWW NOT THE DOGS GIVING HIM THE SCARED SIDE-EYES. 😭😭😭 (But nah, they really were all talk, barking and shiii. ALL BARK, BUT NO BITE. SMH 😤)

Yeah, you're all going to get GOT. Say your prayers now. 🙏🏽

OK, THAT'S YOUR FAULT FOR UNDERESTIMATING HIM THO. LIKE SORRY BABE, YOU DIDN'T GET THE MEMO??? 🙄 (Also, damn. If you were planning to break your phone in the first place, you should've just given it to me. I really needed a new one... 👁👄👁)

OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO SHIIIIIIIIIIIT, WE GOT BACKUP?????? 👀

OHHHHH SHIIIIIISDFKJASHDFKJDHFHKSDHF IT'S HUDSONNNNN!!!!!!!! OMGGGGGG I NEVER EXPECTED TO FEEL HAPPINESS WHEN I JUST SAW HUDSON. LIKE BROOOOO COMING IN WITH THE CLUTCH FRFR. 💪🏽💪🏽💪🏽 PERO DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMN, HE REALLY BODYING ALL OF THEM. OMG IM FUCKING SQUEALING RN AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

OMGGGASHDFJASDHFJSDFHDSFDJKH. I... AM.... SCREAMINGGGGGGGGG!!!!!! JAAAAYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!! 😫😫😫😫💛💛💛💛💛💛

A KING FOR NONVIOLENCE, LET'S GOOOOOO!!!! 😍😍😍😍😍 (I loved how he just shows up without having to beat up anybody. Instead, he drives his motorcycle and scares people off of cliffs. God bless his pure heart.) 💀

UGHHHHHH THIS LINE UP IS SO GOOD BRO. I'M ALREADY HYYYYYYYYYYYYYPED!!!! 😆😆😆😆😆

AAAAAAAAAALRIGHTYYYYYY, SO THIS CONCLUDES CH. 435. Holy crap, I haven't finished a review THIS early in a while. BUT ANYWAYS, I really want to know why they're getting in Daniel's way of learning more about Jinyoung Park. Like, who are they? Jinyoung's bodyguards or something? 😅 They most likely might have beef with Jinyoung, but they've been hella pressed ever since Danny boy arrived. He's just trying to find this man, just leave him alone!! 😩 But what if they joined forces in trying to find Jinyoung...? Idk, just a little afterthought in the back of my mind. They might have some sort of compromise or something. Eugene style...? 😂✨ Anything is possible at this point

Also, "short and simple" my ass. I just realized that I went overboard AGAIN.

[callmearcturus]

Okay here are the Mission Impossible grades now that I've seen them all

Mission Impossible 1: A-Tier

STILL LODGED IN MY FUCKING BRAIN. I did not go into this one expecting it to be that good. I only shouted at DePalma once I think and mostly I was staring in fascinated horror at the sexually-charged manipulative thriller unfolding. I am obsessed with the dynamic between Ethan, Phelps, and Claire, there is some SHIT going on there, the queer reading of this movie is off the charts. Would rewatch any day.

Mission Impossible 2 Silent Movie Recut: C-Tier

This is a bad fucking movie but Punct and I were screaming for 90% of the film, it was so fucking fun and stupid. Granted, I don't think we would have survived if we weren't watching the recut, BUT nothing will ever be funnier than Ethan doing a backflip and then mid-air changing to a down-kick. I was so shocked at the AUDACITY and the STUPIDITY I immediately rewound the scene to watch it again. Amazing. Totally batshit. Ethan why are you kicking everything you are a punchman.

Mission Impossible 3: Trash Tier

This movie was a nightmare. I feel actively bad for Cruise and Monaghan bringing their A game to a shit-tier script. This movie has MULTIPLE PROBLEMS. There were multiple sequences that were so poorly shot that I couldn't follow what the fuck was happening. The constant unnecessary cuts and the rapid tempo gave me a headache. JJA is incapable of letting a shot breathe at all, like if he doesn't cut every three to five seconds his head will explode. Also this script was ATROCIOUS. Fucking WHAT. There is no introducton to the team, making them feel completely tertiary. That line about sleeping with your sister catapulted me out of the movie like an ejection from a jet plane. The entire anti-god speech was peak 'take the keyboard away from JJA.' And WHAT was with the random bondage mask scene??? Was JJA like "sorry i have no idea how to keep the plot moving unless Ethan literally can't speak in this scene so here's the IMF-issued Unsexy Bondage Mask."

Also this Jack Bauerification of Ethan Hunt pisses me off. Ethan Hunt should not use assault rifles, that's not who he is, JJA meet me in the pit.

Ghost Protocol: A-Tier

Stupid and delightful and finally some good fucking food. The first of the McQuarrie Trilogy. After enduring MI3 I want to kiss McQuarrie on the fucking mouth for writing this. You actually get to know the team! There is time spent establishing each of their dynamics with Ethan! Finally Ethan is doing sneaky shit instead of just shooty shit! The Burj! The comedy! This is a 2 hour episode of Leverage and I fucking love it. Thank you, zero notes.

Rogue Nation: S-Tier

Oh babygirl here we fucking go. Not only McQuarrie on script (with help from good writers) but he's in the director chair, welcome to the party, hardy. I L O V E this movie. It has supplanted GP as my comfort watch of the series. Ilsa Faust is an excellent addition to the team with a lot of edge to her and the way she drives the plot thrills me chills me and fulfills me. And while she's kind of the love interest that is not even remotely the plot of the story, the story is crunchy with Solomon Lane serving such fuckin good vibes. He has actual motivation beyond "hello i am the baddie" he has thoughts and motivations and he also is STAGGERINGLY PETTY. Also I cannot tell what's my favorite bit of this one, the part where Ethan is fucking OUT OF IT after he gets resuscitated or when Ethan goes off the deep end.

This movie really said "Benji Dunn is 90% of Ethan's impulse control" and it was RIGHT! Thank you McQuarrie, I love you.

Fallout: S-Tier

I'm fucking unhinged about this movie. The batshit motorcycle chase in Paris, the HALO jump, the helicopter hijacking. Ethan's continued moral decay as his ethical compass begins to realign, and the way it fucks him over. Solomon fucking Lane back to haunt the shit out of everyone. That FUCKING bathroom brawl jesus fuck. Everyone is on their goddamn A game, they are giving everything. Watching the final act is like a prolonged heart attack. Also the cinematography and lighting is jawdroppingly gorgeous. Also Julia is AMAZING. HER SCENE WITH LUTHER MAKES ME EMOTIONAL.

Not only do I have no notes, I want McQuarrie to give me notes. Goddamn. Ethan Hunt is babygirl and his tired eyes give me feelings.

There it is, my lukewarm takes.

[sharkneto]

i think someone’s already asked you this, but do you ever get writing inspiration from music? or have certain songs you associate with certain characters?

for me, 39 by Queen, Slipping Through my Fingers by Abba and Asleep by the Smiths are such Five songs!

also wanted to say i love your writing! i think you’re absolutely brilliant, you write in such a beautifully grounded way and i literally want your fics to be made into movies they’re so amazing! i hope your writing brings you as much joy as it does me!

Oh, I don't know if I've answered that specific question. I've talked before about how I write to music/the kind of music I write to (shoutout to my playlist oh for it's sad vibes, it does such heavy lifting). But songs that have inspired scenes...

The answer is definitely Yes, but can I remember them... For the Post-S3 Five And Allison Talk Fic haven't shared, a specific scene of that I haven't officially written vibed hard with The King by Sarah Kinsley (lyrics half fit), although I think that was more I was thinking about it and that song came on and turbo'd it. I think that's the closest one I've got off the top of my head. EDIT: Back to say how the fuck did I forget about Kokomo. Iconic. Included here for Obvious Reasons for any JT readers. The entire goddamn Amanda and Five road trip came from Kokomo coming on in my car during a commute home.

For songs that I associate with characters, absolutely. I've got a whole playlist of Number songs and songs Five likes (made with @non-plutonian-druid, linked HERE and HERE if anyone is curious). I've got my Five and Delores/Five Apocalypse Playlist HERE. You'll notice a theme, here. Gonna go do a listen for the Five Vibes of your recs, can always use more Five Songs. Do I have songs for other characters...? Not... really?

I feel like music is more fic based than character based, I've got songs I associate with fics (from listening to them while writing or vibing about them). Time Is On My Side (Irma Thomas) and Hotel California (Eagles) for Searching for Good Times. Night Shift (Lucy Dacus) for Nice Things Can't Last Forever (They Still End Too Soon) despite those lyrics not really working at all, but the Vibes. The Vibes. This section would be more fun if I could remember more of them right now, but there are three examples rip

And thank you so much for the kind words. This is a low time of the year for me, so your love was really well timed. I'm late to replying to this, but I've come back to my inbox to read them many times. I see my fics playing out in my head like a movie while I have a narration going that is what ends up getting written, so I'm so glad that translates back to you as Could Be A Movie :) My writing brings me so much joy, even when I'm in a little bit of a slump like I am now. I think my favorite thing about getting into writing and sharing is the shared enjoyment of it all - we're all just here having a great time together