#(just in case! wicked is so good if you watch it without being spoiled)

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

Titanic Mothers (Mother’s Day 2021 Drabbles)

 Dedicated to all Mothers in the world, whether by birth, adoption or otherwise. Take the time to wish the woman who helped you become the person you are a very blessed Mother’s Day.

Of course I cannot have done this without thanking my pen pals @lightdusk96 @mothnem @wisegirlandseaweedbrainforever @fireflyxrebel-writes @tarisilmarwen @bluerene and many others 

So without further ado....

Arella Roth

 The peaceful, serene and calming orange tinted skies of Azarath are in many ways are therapeutic sort to admire under. For Arella, they are a perfect sort of skies to step outside for a nice and simple meditation. The Monks’ efforts in freeing her mind and grief in light of the numerous....series of events surrounding her entire life, whether being her harsh childhood and especially her unfortunate encounter with that bastard of a devil known as Trigon the Terrible, all of it had truly done some wonders in giving her a chance to appreciate life though clearly that grief runs deep, requiring an additional amount of effort on her end to counter it. 

 As Arella assumes lotus position on the balcony and lights two candles to her sides, she closes her eyes. She begins steadying her breathing and clears her mind...no easy feat though sine almost about a few seconds into clearing it, the scepter of Trigon and her tyrant of mother start coming in. The harsh words of shame, the demonic laughter, those taunts, the curses, they all start piling onto her mind, no her soul all at once. Her breathing starts picking up speed. She must remember what the Monks taught her....peace...find her inner peace...find what makes her find said peace...then within the blackened and harsh void of darkness clouding her mind...Arella sees it. That peace, a tiny stream of white light...a small bird. The bird starts getting closer, it’s wings start opening, dispelling the black void surrounding her...

  As her mind starts feeling the calming light clear it out, Arella peeks open her right eye very slightly, sure enough there she was. Her light, her inner peace, her white bird, her very daughter. 

 Little Rachel Roth, barely eight years of age as of now, was also in lotus position, practicing the very same meditation her mother was doing right now. She too looked at her meditating partner to her side and sure enough, both realize...’why stop now’ and both wordlessly give each other a small smile, a nod and both continue mediating. 

Arella, upon closing her eye back, says, “Okay, Rachel, now repeat after me...”

“Yes, Mom”

“Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos....”

Marie Logan

  “Garfield” Maire called out for maybe the fifth time, passing by the tall tree next their camper yet again.

  Her six year old little explorer of a boy had a tendency to run off whenever he was bored. Thankfully, he’d never venture into the nearby jungles or savannas the Logans visit too far, he always keep relatively close to make sure he knows his way back safely. Still, as a mother, Marie has her fair share of concerns for his well being since who knows what kind of animals he can run into this time. 

  However, the fifth time calling for him appears being the charm as sure enough, she can hear the branches creaking and the leaves rustling above her. Looking upward, sure enough, there he was, climbing down the gigantic branches with such agility before finally landing safely right next to her. His blond hair and crisp green eyes shone brightly as Garfield beams to his equally smiling mother. 

 “Found anything up there my explorer?” Marie asked while picking her son into her arms.

 “Nah”, Garfield replied, “plenty of birds like the manual said would ‘round here but they flew away”

 “Well, must be cause they didn’t want to hear about Wicked Scary just yet”, Marie says lightly giggling while ruffling her son’s hair, “maybe they just didn’t wanna get it spoiled you know?”

 Garfield sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, “Yeah, guess so.”

Dr. Elinore Stone

  Fixing her goggles, Dr. Stone narrowed her eyes within them ever so slightly. Next to her, ten year old Victor was equally wearing goggles but also adorably having oven mittens on his hands while holding on tightly to the beaker of green fluid over the larger one with orange fluid. 

 It was ‘Take Your Kids to Work Day’ at STAR Labs and both Elinore and her husband Silas had taken their son over to both explore where his parents’ worked at and even take part in a family friendly activity like this one. 

  Lightly guiding her gloved hands over Vic’s, the two together start pouring the green fluid from the beaker the latter was carrying very slowly into the one with the orange substance. The chemical reaction from the larger beaker was almost immediate since it started changing into a multitude of bright colors and bubbling. 

 “Alright son”, Elinore exclaimed proudly as her son beamed to her happily, “I think you’d just be quite the perfect chemi...” 

  KA-BOOM! 

  The lab immediately filled with a light with still irradiating cloud of smoke so rapidly that Silas immediately opened the windows to let the air clear. 

 As the smoke cleared out safely, both Elinore and Victor were thankfully completely fine aside the black soot covering their faces, their hair standing up embarrassingly, all the while Vic still holding onto that plastic beaker in his hands, muttering with a chuckle, “or not.” 

Empress Luand’r of Planet Tamaran 

  The royal gardens within the palace walls have always been a true sanctuary in many ways. In contrast to the barren and strip-mined prefectures right outside said palace walls, ravaged by years of constant fighting and war, the gardens housed a peaceful and tranquil environment that not provides the many fauna a suitable home, but also anyone who ventures within a calming place to contemplate and even find joy in spite of such harsh times befalling the planet.

 That’s very much the case for the very Empress of the Tamaraneans as she cannot help but find her smiling at not just the beautiful varying colors, pleasant aromas and lively calmness of the garden the bench she sits upon at this moment but also of the other resident currently enjoying herself alongside her. 

 Hearing a small voice giggle above her head, Luand’r beams proudly at the sight she sees: her seven planetary cycles of age old little Princess Koriand’r was floating in the air joyously and with such excitement, flying around the numerous branches and leaves of the fauna surrounding her, only stopping every now and then to have her brilliant green eyes observe closely of the leaves she floats right next to. 

 It was moments of pure innocence like this that always bring the purest joy within the usually lowkey Luand’r since through her, her husband Myand’r and especially their beloved ally and servant Galfore, Koriand’r and her siblings are actually given even int he smallest of doses a life outside of the constant bombardment and sirens their enemies bring on a consistent basis. If only there were some way, some means of escaping this perpetual worry and state of fear this war for their kind’s very sovereignty. If one such means exists, Luand’r here will ensure she and her people, especially her children, can take it. 

  A hug snaps the Empress out of her thoughts. Looking to her side, she sees Koriand’r wrapping her arms around her. No other options are needed since all the black-haired Tamaranean woman does is simply yet all too lovingly hug her red-haired daughter back.

   And so, Empress and Princess sit peacefully underneath the blossoming flowers and leaves of the royal garden, a truly fond way of doing the ‘spending quality time’ as a certain other species called Earthlings call it.

  Mary Elizabeth Lloyd Grayson 

 Gripping the bar tightly, Mary pulls it back while bending her legs starting with tipping her toes over the edge of the platform. Now int position, she looks down from her post and  can clearly see the nets are firmly in place and secured well enough. In the very few instances they engage in practice sessions without the nets, as per their acts, it would be just John and her doing such since by now, years of practice and experience worldwide have taught them a thing or few about making sure not a single fall happens on their watch, lest it cause certain disaster. 

  However, this it wasn’t John that was up here with her for today but, looking to her side and giving him a proud thumbs up, instead was her eight year old son who also gives her a thumbs up. Just two months ago was his birthday on the first day of spring and since then, no ever since he first took to the trapeze ropes when he was four, Mary watched her Little Robin improve and grow with each session, each show and every single time he stands on that platform, taking a leap of faith with his hands on the bars, letting loose to perform a spin or flip in the air before once more stretching his arms to safety of both John and/or her. Today proves not too different, hopefully. Worst case for this, Dick or her fall to nets below instead of the hard sandy floor. 

  Leaping off the platform with bar in hand, Mary flew the calm free-of-audience noise air with perfect easy, before hearing that trademark crack of the ropes, signal her to let it loose and with a flip in the air transferred successfully to the second bar across from where her son and the platform are, the first bar she gripped on still in hand.  

 Returning the first bar back to where son is at, now it was on her to ensure he reached her after his turn to swing. As such, Mary began swing the bar she was on back and forth, gaining momentum with each addition swing, only increasing such until it was deemed ready. Sure enough, the bar was swinging at a good pace and now, being the naturally skill contortionist she is, Mary easily positioned the back of knees so that her calves were holding her on the swinging bar, she was hanging upside down if not for the swinging of said bar and most importantly her arms are firmly in a position to stretch as far as they can for a catch. Her part in the act was good to go, now it truly was her son’s turn to fly.

  With a nod, his own hands firmly on the bar, in position for the leap and now his mother across ready to catch him, Dick with a wide grin on his face takes the leap of the platform and swings on his bar across the air. This was it, this was the time he gets it right. The creaking of the ropes he waits for is heard, it was time to let the bar loose. Sure enough as he does so, tucking in his legs to his chest tightly, Dick has nothing to hold him but gravity itself. 

One....Here’s hoping Raymond and Calvin are seeing this 

Two....He can already hear the crowd gasping 

Three....Keep it tight and remember make sure you let arms stretch at the right moment Dad says. 

And......Four! Dick straightens out his body and stretches his arms as far as he can. 

 For the briefest of all moments, he was actually flying. Nothing carrying him, no sense of his own weight dragging him down. He was Superman at that moment. 

 Then he starts loosing his flight, gravity had set in. He stretches his arms just to tiniest bit hoping before air rushes he can....just a little bit....

 Sire enough, all too familiar hands clasps onto his own hand. That familiar calloused texture of the palms, the chalky powdery feeling...Dick looks up to all too familiar face, a very beaming and proud one on top of that 

 “I’ve got you” Mary says lovingly as she can while using her arms to carry her son safely, “Momma’s here, Little Robin.” 

  The two smile at each other with all too familiar love and happiness in their distinct pairs of blue eyes while Mary’s bar starts slowing down its momentum. Finally as it comes to near complete stop, it was time to safely descend to the safety net below. 

 Before letting her son’s grips slips from her hands, Mary pulls him up to where she can deliver a small kiss on his forehead.

 “You did great!” she exclaims happily. Just then, finally the bar’s swinging comes to stop, allowing Mary to finally lossen her grip on her son, allowing him to safely land on the net below, giggling lightly as he initially bounced on it. Just then, Dick rolled out of the way to give his mother enough space for own safe landing as she unhooks her legs from the trapeze bar and land on the net right next to him.

 Mother and son simply lay there on their sides of the net, panting after such an effort before Mary threw her arms around her little boy, hugging him close to her. “You’re learning so fast”, she says panting yet all to happily.

  Dick simply lays his head close to her, feeling her all too calming and steady heartbeat, relaxing the both of them. 

 “Happy Mother’s Day. Momma, Love you”, he whispers to her happily, as he wraps his own around her tightly 

 Mary can’t help but smile and even have tears of joy glisten her eyes. Pressing a few kisses on her son’s forehead, she whispers in turn, “And I Love you, so, so much, My Little Robin” 

[creepyalienghost]

Reunited

Deep down in the studio the ink creatures know only pain and struggle. The dreaded Alice Angel sacrifices all who she could get her hands on to fix her scars and her former beauty. The poor prophet sacrificed anyone he could find to please his lord. The projectionist struggled to remember anything other then his loop. Many lost souls struggle to even remember who they were anymore. All they could do is hear the voices swirling in there heads. With others not in the hive mind they either fight to keep themselves alive or hide in their spots, hoping to never run into the ink demon or the Angel.

The prophet was wondering the halls looking for my soup cans when suddenly it dawn on him that creatures were few and far between. Unlike before when you can’t turn the corner without running into one of the Butcher Gangs or seeing a Boris hiding. He found that strange and decided to take a look around though the walls.

He looked through holes, peaked in rooms and even going deep down below and sure enough so maybe we’re missing. All the butcher gang seen to have disappeared. The projectionist was no where to be found and even that new comer Sammy almost sacrificed wasn’t seen. Something was going on. Could this have been his lords doing? Or worst, that wicked angel’s? Sammy wanted to find out but he was also wondering of angering his lord. If it was his doing then maybe his lord would do the same to him...

He was caught up in his thoughts while walking that he didn’t notice the footsteps rushing up behind him until it was to late. The prophet was bagged over the head and tripped. He struggled and yelled for his lord for help as several creatures held him down or sat on top of him. They managed to tie his hands behind his back right before he felt a sharp pain in his neck. He screamed and cursed them out until the drug they infected him with started to work. His body went heavy. His hearing muffled. His sight started to fade. The prophet feared he was dying and had failed his lord. Hell, maybe this was his lords doing. Maybe this was what happened to the rest of them. He thought of this until his mind was even talking from him and soon after that the darkness of ink took over everything.

——-

It all felt like a dream. The sacrifices. The ink. Bendy and Alice. Everything for the pass so many years felt like a long band dream. But Sammy new it wasn’t a dream when his eyes flickered open and vision cleared. The first thing he noticed was that he was laying in hospital bed, hooked up to many Wires going to many different machines. There was one for his heartbeat. Another for monitoring his brain waves. A Machine pumping in blood inside him and the casual iv needle.

Sammy slowly sat up on the bed with Extreme exhaustion to looked around the room he was in. The walls were painted a pale blue and the floors were your typical white polished floor. It looked like any hospital but one from a sci fi movie. There was Technology Sammy has never seen before and has no idea what it is or how it’s use. Ones with big screens and buttons.

Just then a knock came from the door, making Sammy jump a bit and a nurse opened the door with a small smile, walking in. “Hello Mr. Lawrence. I’m glad to see your awake.” She held out hand as she introduced herself. “I’m nurse Beth. I’ll be taking care of you in here.”

Sammy took hold of her hand and shook it. “Thank you.” He replied. “I uh...I’m confused...what happened? How did we get out?...what ...what year is it” he asked as more and more questions start to form.

The nurse sat beside him and sat her clipboard next to her. “We’re not supposed to tell you guys everything right when you come to. It’s going to be broken in parts but I promise you. All your questions will be answered.” She relieved him. “But I am allowed to say you and your friends our at a government base and you guys are all free. Your old coworker Henry Stein came to us and told what Joey drew was doing. You are all safe now.”

Henry stein? Joey drew? His friends. Sammy hadn’t thought about them in so long and now his heart acted. He remembers Norman and the amazing guy he was. But he also remembered Joey. Joey was also a great guy before he lost his mind to the darkness. He missed both of them and badly wants to see them. “Can I see m-my friends?” He asked the nurse.

Nurse Beth nodded her head. “Yes. You may in a bit. I need to give you your daily check up first.”

Through out his check up, nurse Ann explained they would be here for a few weeks to watch and see how they would respond after being ink creatures for so long

and will be helped getting back into civilization with a new job and a home. She told him there be daily health checks in the morning and classes to understand the would now days.

After the check up, nurse Beth lead Sammy down the hallway to the wing where he and his friends would be staying at. “There’s access to a cafeteria for y’all and a tv room with games and books so y’all don’t get bored.” She informed him as she punches the code in for the wing.” Your room is Numble 20.”

“Thank you.” Sammy replied as he walked in. She nodded and closed it behind him. Sammy was on his own know.

There was chatter from down the hall. Some of the voices he recognized. Like Susie’s Jack’s and Norman’s he couldn’t wait to meet them again. He hoped they didn’t have no hard feelings from his role he unwillingly played in all this. However when he rounded the corner they all went silent pretty fast when they one by one noticed him. Sammy could see ether hatred or disappointment in each of their eyes. Norman’s hurt the worst. Sammy quickly got the hint we wasn’t welcome and left to find his room.

He sat in his bed staring at the green wall for some hours before a few security guards came to checked their wing. Sammy overheard one of them talking about Joey to his partner as they passed his room. “The psycho was placed in wing E.” Sammy Heard.

It got Sammy thinking again of their good times before. Joey was such a funny and sweet guy back then, handsome too. He spoiled Sammy with fancy dinners and parties as well as taught Sammy the wonders of magic and occult. It was fun and safe at first, but once Joey got the taste of the darkness is when everything changed. The abuse started, madness and control took over his mind and by then it was far to late to leave everything.

He wondered if Joey was still like that or like the way he use to be. He wanted to take the chance and see him. He stopped the security guard before they left the wing. “Can I see Joey Drew. Just once.” The guard didn’t laugh but looked at him like he was insane. “I know it’s crazy. But please just one time.”

The guard signed in hopelessness for the lost man. “I’ll ask and see if you two can meet.” With that the guard left though the wing doors.

———-

After receiving his check up the next morning, the same guard as before meet him out in the hallway. “Come with me.” He said right as Sammy stepped out. Sammy did so. They walked out the doors to the wing and down hallways, went further down an elevator and came to a new wing. The E wing.

This one was more Secure. The door here was metal and had an automatic lock that would lock it self if an alarm went off.

There was two guards station at the door to in case something went wrong. His guard had his ID checked and a minute later they both were though and heading down that hallway. The guard stopped at one of the meetings rooms and unlocked it. “You two have an hour.” Sammy nodded stepping though. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Joey sitting at one of the tables. One where their breakfast sat waiting.

He was much older unlike them. Of course he was he had been out in the real world growing older. Sammy could see the exhaustion in his face when he looked up at him. He was old and tired. Hair turned gray and wrinkly skin. Sammy realizes he doesn’t have much time left on this earth and this was likely the last time he would see him.

“It’s uh..nice to see you again.” Joey said to fill the silence between them. “ please...have a seat.” He offered and Sammy took it.

“Why?” Sammy ask, ignoring joeys attempt at welcoming. “Why did you ever let yourself get this mad? To start abusing me? To force me to hurt the others and putting us all in that hell?” He ask.

Joeys face turned to guilt and shame then. “I...I had a dream.” He answered Sammy’s question and continued. “That dream lead to magic so I could bring that dream to life which that lead to dark magic which corrupted me.” He sighed, disappointing in himself. “I shouldn’t had let it took me to a dark path, Sammy I am so sorry. If I could go back and changed everything I would.” He buried his head in his hands. “None of y’all deserved that. And you didn’t deserve the abuse I did. I’m really an sorry and I hope you can forgive me enough to enjoy one meal together?”

Sammy thought of this for a moment. He does seem genuine sorry and Is in his last days. He also missed these things they did together as well. Sammy nodded and smiled at Joey. “Let’s share one last meal together.” He replied and switched seats next to Joey. “And. It’s good to see you to”

[softboywriting]

It’s You | Shawn Mendes

Summary: You and Shawn have been friends since you were children. Years have gone by, lives changed. He's a rockstar and you're a part time nurse. You keep in contact but lately you've begun to realize life isn't the same without him there and the hole in your heart gets bigger everyday. When he comes home from tour, it's time for you to make your move and confess your feelings. That is...if he doesn't beat you to it. [established friendship] [non au] [friends to lovers]

Word Count: 5k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Vanilla and cinnamon, two of the best scents in the world, in your opinion anyway. Basic, but so comforting. They are the smells of home, your real home back in Pickering. Your family home always smelled like sweet vanilla cookies and Shawn's house, your other home growing up, always smelled like warm cinnamon. It wasn't until Shawn left for his current world tour that you realized you had been subconsciously trying to fill the void of his absence by buying candles in those scents.

Three years and five months to date since his initial departure from Pickering and you wake up to realize you feel empty and it was then you realized that you love him. Of course you have talked to him, phone calls, text, video messages and brief visits. Things didn't end badly and he hasn't cut you out of his life by any means. There are things a long distance friendship can't fulfill, and things you aren't sure you can tell him over the phone, let alone tell him at all.

So for the dozenth time in probably the last three months you find yourself in the bath and body works at the mall. It's buy one get one for the three wick candles and you're sticking your nose in every single one there. Most of them are pretty good, it's the end of the autumn collection and there are displays of the Christmas and winter lines being set up, but nothing is really piquing your interest. Until you find the candle called Black Tie. A very casual little thing, black with gold stripes and it's name in gilded lettering across the side. It's definitely not one you might pick up and smell normally because the color alone indicates it's probably going to be a heavy scent that's far different from your usual vanilla and cinnamon favourites.

The moment you get the lid off you are hit with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. Your heart swells and you can't help the tears that form instantaneously. It smells like Shawn, like his cologne that he got for Christmas a few years back. The one you could smell on your jacket after he hugged you goodbye at the airport right before this tour. It takes all of your willpower not to fall to your knees then and there in that shop. It is as if in that moment everything you've felt, repressed and ignored, is coming bubbling up to drown you.

"Are you finding everything okay?"

Suddenly you're snapped back to reality and you look over to the blonde girl on your left. She's smiling, eagerly awaiting your reply.

"Yeah...yeah I just spaced off. Thanks."

"Alright, no problem. I'm Jess if you need any help I'll be around."

You nod and clutch the candle to your chest. Is it weird? You look down at the gold lid of the candle and turn it upwards so you can see it better. Is it strange to want a candle that smells like your best friend's cologne? No. You won't talk yourself out of it. You grab a vanilla cookie dough candle and head for the register with your purchases before you can change your mind again.

_____________________

"You got another candle?" Shawn laughs through the phone in your lap. "How many is that now?"

"Probably like three dozen."

"You're gonna be on that show, my strange addiction. True story, addicted to candles."

You lift the phone and narrow your eyes at him. "Listen here jewelry boy. You're one to talk, I've seen your ridiculous collection of rings, bracelets, watches and crap. I don't make fun of you."

"Yeah but I can actually wear mine. What do you do with candles? Burn them?"

You scoff. "I don't make fun of your coping mechanisms."

"Coping? Whoa what? Are you okay?"

Shit. You set the phone down and lean your head on your knees. How could you let that slip out like that? He didn't need to know you're missing him, and what life used to be.

"Hey, talk to me. What's going on?"

You sigh softly. "Nothing is going on. I'm just really lonely and most of my friends have moved away. I guess the candles remind me of home, back in Pickering when things were simpler. I've been thinking of moving back in with mom and dad. My place here in Toronto is getting too expensive."

Shawn is quiet for a moment. You worry he's hung up but the screen is still lit up. "I miss home too. I'll be back in a few weeks, it won't be for long but it's something. If you don't want to move in with your parents you can stay at my place. It's empty."

"What if you have company?"

"I never have anyone at the apartment besides the guys."

You shake your head and roll your eyes. "I don’t know...anyway, when will you be home again?"

"Few weeks."

"You're gonna be working when you're here, you always are."

"No, I'm gonna take some time off. I want to see Mom and Dad and Aaliyah. I want to see you."

You wrap your arms around your knees and close your eyes. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"You can tell me anything."

"I think I fell in love."

Silence. Why did you even say something? He’s going to figure out it’s him. He’s not that dense, is he?

"Shawn?"

"Yeah?" He’s quiet and you can't read his emotions through the phone. You hate this. Maybe he doesn’t know it’s him. He can’t know. Why did you even say anything? So stupid. "Go on."

"It's a friend, someone from back in Pickering."

"Oh. So like...are you dating?" He has no idea.

"No."

Shawn sighs and it sounds almost relieved. "How are you in love then? Usually people need to be together to be in love."

"It's complicated."

"It's Matt isn't it?"

"What? No!"

"Oh, well, love is complicated, so y'know...just don't rush into it."

"I'm stupid and too emotional about it." You pick up the phone and look at him. "Forget I said anything. It's nothing."

"You're not stupid or emotional, feelings are valid. Maybe you are in love, maybe it's infatuation. You'll have to take a chance on this person to find out okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

Shawn looks back as someone opens a door in the room he's in. "I have to go, I'll text you?"

"For sure. Bye." You set the phone aside and flop backwards. He seemed put off, jealous almost. No. That can't be right. He's just worried about you. Yeah. That's it.

___________________

Two weeks later you find yourself hauling boxes out of the elevator on the twelfth floor of an apartment building to Shawn's place. Your rent went up a hundred dollars due to alleged renovations and that was not happening in your budget. Initially you tried going back home to Pickering, knowing it'd be a long drive to work in Toronto but it would be fine. Your parents however didn't have space for you. They are amid a remodel that you completely forgot about so your bedroom is no more. Shawn is your last choice but you know it's not going to work out when he's home, but it's temporary, you'll find another place.

The first thing you notice is that Shawn's apartment is less of a two bedroom and more of a one and a half. The second room he uses as guitar storage and a makeshift studio is the size of a large walk in closet. If you're lucky you'll get your bed in there and maybe your dresser but not much else. Shawn said to move whatever you needed into the living room. Somehow it feels wrong to impede on his space.

After a long three days of moving and setting up you're finally moved in. You stacked his guitars in their cases by the couch and boxed up all his recording gear and put it in his room. Your bed, dresser and a shelving unit all fit in the small bedroom and that's it. The rest of your furniture you took to your parents house and stored in the garage.

It's Sunday, the fourth day after the move and you are unpacking your candles, setting them out on your dresser and the shelving you set up. It's funny, Shawn's place smells like cinnamon just like his parents house did back home. You don't even need to burn any candles to be reminded of back then, Shawn's place somehow perfectly encapsulates it.

The sound of the front door opening sends your pulse skyrocketing. Shawn wasn't due home for another week. You grab your keys from your purse and ready the pepper spray you have dangling from them.

"Hello?"

Karen pops her head around the corner to the kitchen. "Hey! I was hoping you would be here. I brought some stuff for Shawn, and you too since you're here."

"Oh." You pocket your keys and walk into the kitchen to see bags of groceries on the counter. "What's all this?"

"Food, supplies." Karen begins unpacking and placing things in the fridge. "I always do this before Shawn gets home so he doesn't have to order take out."

"You're the best Karen." You hand her a carton of milk. "Do you still make the crock pot chicken soup for him?"

"Every time." She smiles. "I won't make it until Friday since he'll be here Saturday morning."

You grab a bottle of water and lean against the counter. Karen spoils Shawn rotten but you get it, you'd do the same for him. "Do you think it's weird?"

"What's that?"

"Hmm? Oh. Did I say that out loud?"

Karen closes the fridge and goes to the cabinet. "You did. What’s weird?"

"That I'm staying with Shawn."

"No, not in the least." She motions for you to pass her dry goods from the bags and you do. "You and Shawn have been thick as thieves since you were eight years old. There is something special about your friendship."

"Yeah, he's the best friend I've ever had. I'm glad he hasn't changed much since he got famous."

"Manny and I raised him right, put a good head on his shoulders. He's got common sense and a strong moral compass." She smiles and pauses to look back at you. "Friends like you keep him grounded as well."

"I do my best."

"He listens to you, values your opinion. Believe it or not he listens to you more than me sometimes."

You roll your eyes and scoff. "I doubt that."

"Oh he does. I can't tell you how many times he's called me for an opinion just to completely change his mind after I give it." Karen chuckles. "It's probably because I'm his Mom."

"But I'm just his friend."

"You're his best friend. Brian and Matt and the guys are all very good friends but you're at the top of the list you guys have been together since you learned to walk. Shawn loves you."

Your heart stops. "Shawn loves everyone."

"True, but he loves you differently. He hasn't said it I'm sure, but the way he looks at you is special. The two of you were meant to be in each other's lives." Karen wads up the plastic bags and stuffs them under the sink cabinet. "Chat with him about it. I'm sure he'll come clean."

Your hands feel sweaty and you fold your arms over your chest tightly. "Do you think he's in love with me?"

"Ah, that I'm not sure of. He's never mentioned that to me but I'm his Mom, boys don't always tell their Mom's their feelings towards their interests. He may have told Manny though, if that's the case." She lays her hand on your shoulder and you look her in the eye. "Shawn is particular, always has been, and now with everything that's happened in his life he is going to be even more particular who he has a relationship with. All I am going to say is that you shouldn't dwell on it. If there is more to your relationship with Shawn then let it happen naturally."

"Thanks." You chew on your lower lip anxiously. "Can I ask you one more thing though?"

"Sure."

"Do you think Shawn and I would be a good match?"

"Yes, without a doubt."

You nod and she kisses your cheek before saying goodbye and heading out. You stay in the kitchen a while, taking in the whole apartment, contemplating ever telling Shawn you love him, and mulling over the fact that his mom can see there is more to the two of you than just friends.

____________________

Monday you decide to snoop around the house. It's your place too after all, you should familiarize yourself. Maybe it's not snooping if you just open every cupboard in the kitchen and rifle through the bathroom drawers because you definitely live here now. You do find a couple of foregien face creams and washes that you can't read anything about on the bottle. You open and sniff them, nothing special smelling. Though you're sure they're probably some super expensive Korean beauty brand that is the secret to Shawn's flawless skin. He never would tell you what he uses and you know that just soap and water is a damn lie.

There is a box of tampons in the cupboard under the bathroom sink when you open it to see what space you're working with for your hair dryer and bath salts. It's surprising because it's definitely not yours and Shawn is definitely a guy. Probably his sisters? Weird.

You dismiss the tampons and wander out of the bathroom after putting away your bathroom supplies. You pause, looking into Shawn's bedroom before readying to turn into your own. It's so empty and way too clean. The Shawn you know never has his shit this in order. You decide to step in, boldly crossing the threshold between exploring your new home to officially snooping.

Shawn's bedroom is almost depressing. You walk along the far right wall where his dresser is. It's empty on top, not even a hairbrush or anything laying in front of the big attached mirror. The room doesn't even look lived in. It looks like a hotel. You go to the bed and sit down on the perfectly tucked blankets. Karen made it no doubt, she cleaned his place every few weeks when he went out of town to keep the dust and stuffiness at a minimum.

You flop back on the bed and close your eyes. It smells like him, like fresh laundry and the expensive cologne he wears on special occasions. The good one that you wish you could find but you know he buys somewhere overseas. You wonder if he wore it the last time he slept in this bed. Honestly you wonder if he ever feels at home here, a place he barely lives in. You open your eyes and look to the doorway, across the hall is your bedroom, already filled with personal things and decoration. Your heart sinks. Maybe he wants you to live with him so this place doesn't feel like a hotel and with you there it will feel more like a home. Yeah. You're going to make this apartment feel like home.

_____________________

Saturday arrives at an agonizingly snail's pace. Karen stopped by on Friday evening to make soup and you were still out by the time she left. You got to experience first hand what it is like for Shawn to arrive home and have warm chicken soup waiting. It's a heavenly smell after a long day and you were tempted to have some, but you know it wouldn't be fully ready until the morning.

You wake up early, planning on getting a shower and making breakfast and setting up the TV to play Harry Potter before Shawn got home. You were going to clean up the living room, bring out blankets and make sure everything was picked up and ready for Shawn to walk in. All that goes out the window when you walk out of your bedroom and see Shawn's bedroom door open with suitcases piled at the end of the bed.

You walk to the kitchen and round the corner to find Shawn sitting at the island eating a bowl of soup. He looks up and smiles so big that broth literally falls out of his mouth.

"You're so gross." You chuckle and he moves around the island to scoop you into a crushing hug.

"I missed you." He says and grips at your back. "It's been forever."

"Six months is a long while." You press your face into his shoulder and take a deep breath. Nothing is more relaxing. "Welcome home."

Shawn squeezes you tighter and you just hold onto him as if it were the last time you are going to get to do it. You stand in silence, just hugging one another and just existing together for a moment, unbroken by the outside world. Two heartbeats becoming one as the seconds tick by.

"Let's make breakfast."

"Just a little longer." He mumbles, face against your head.

You run your hand up his back, across the thrift store vintage tee from some band you've never heard of. It's soft, worn from years of wear and tear. His breathing slows down and he begins to sway in your arms. "Talk to me?"

"Miss this."

"Hugging me?"

"Being home, getting to see you and hug you. I can't wait to see my family too. It's been forever, I've never been away this long without a break. It feels good to hold someone that feels like home."

You fight the tears that well up in your eyes. He thinks of you as home. Your fingers clench instinctively and he lets out a soft groan of pain at your nails digging into his back.

"Sorry, sorry." You apologize profusely and drop your hands to step away and break the bond you've created. "My bad."

Shawn stretches and chuckles. "No worries. You mentioned breakfast?"

"Mmm." You pat his stomach and he reels forward from his stretch. "I see your appetite hasn't changed. One day your metabolism is going to slow down y'know."

"Not today." He loops his arm around your shoulders and pulls you against him as you walk toward the fridge. "Can I have the pre-hockey practice special?"

"That's so much food! You already had soup!"

"I'm starving!" He whines and you elbow him.

"Alright, I'll make it but you had better eat every last bite."

Shawn pulls away and sinks onto the island stool. "You can hold me to it."

You cut him and glare and he grins. Your heart stutters. That smile, it's been so long since you've seen it in person. You wish you could take a photo of this moment, to relive it forever and ever.

______________________

Three days into Shawn being home you come to find two hoodies left laying about the living room. They're ones he hasn't worn as far as you know, so it's a little odd. They never get moved, they just sit there draped across the couch and the lounge chair by the window. As far as you're concerned they're fair game for wearing and you do as such on the third day because you're tired from work and it's chilly in the apartment. You definitely didn't put one on just because it's his and you miss wearing his clothes.

"Hey, what're you doing tonight?" Shawn asks when he gets up around noon and wanders out of his bedroom. He seems to sleep all the time. You wonder just how much rest he gets on tour and while traveling. He claims he passes out as soon as he gets on a plane but you have your doubts.

You look over from where you have been curled up on the couch watching trash TV all morning since you're not tired yet. How, you have no idea. Night shifts at the hospital are exhausting. You're not particularly up for a wild night out so you hope he hadn't made plans to rope you into anything.

"Nothing. Just got home a few hours ago and I've been watching movies and channel surfing."

"Do you want to go out?"

Of course. Sleepy rockstar wants to go out. Part of you wants to be annoyed, jealous that he can just sleep all day and go do whatever he feels like whenever. But you aren't either of those things. In fact, his simple question makes your heart skip, your brain reading it as an inquiry for a date. You know fill well he means going out as friends and your foolish heart instantly settles down.

"It depends, I'm not up for anything too crazy. I just worked a ten hour shift overnight."

"Oh right, I forgot. Wednesday is your night shift. I was just thinking something easy, dinner and drinks?"

"Just us?"

"Yeah, like we used to. The diner on Bedford is still open I think."

You chew your lip. It sounds so tempting. Burgers and shakes, just like the old days. But you need to sleep, and going out with him just seems like a recipe for disaster with your feelings right now.

"I don't think I'm up for it."

Shawn sinks into the cushions beside you. He steals the corner of your blanket and leans his head against your shoulder. He smells like a sleepy boy and minty shampoo. It's hard not to turn your face into his hair and take it all in.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Wh- huh? There isn't anything to talk about?"

"Are you sure? You've got on my hoodie and you're watching ex on the beach. If I know one thing it's that you're caught up in your feelings right now. Is it that guy you're in love with?"

You pause. He hasn't brought up the whole being in love conversation since you initially had it about a month ago now. Not that you expected him to and it definitely didn't come up naturally. You figured he had forgotten what you said. So now that he is mentioning it unprompted is odd.

"No, he's not...it's not that."

"You never said who it was."

"It's no one. It was a fleeting dream and an emotional couple days. I was mistaken, you know, obsession not affection." Such a liar.

Shawn looks up at you from your shoulder and you can tell he is not buying it. You're not one to be infatuated with someone over nothing. "Right, well I'm up for staying in tonight too."

"No, it's only noon, go out with the guys or something. Go visit Aaliyah and your parents. It's boring here and you've only got a few weeks until you have to go back on tour."

"I'm staying here. I'm not up for the guys and my parents are out of town at my aunt's place today." Shawn pulls his phone out and opens a site on his browser. "I'll get us some lunch, we can play some Mario kart, watch some movies, get drunk together and just do whatever."

"I am not getting drunk. I actually have to work tomorrow morning."

Shawn chuckles and puts his phone away. "I've got rumchata. I know you love that."

You roll your eyes. He truly knows how to get to you. Maybe a few shots wouldn't hurt, they could help you sleep. Maybe.

____________________

One shot turns into three and then three turns into five. After that you get a little wobbly and call it quits. Shawn however downs his sixth one and his six turns into wrestling.

You were cleaning the coffee table off, stacking paper plates from the pizza Shawn ordered and gathering up abandoned napkins. You were ready to call it quits for the day, turn in and sleep until nine tomorrow morning. You were truly ready to just be done but Shawn was not.  

Just as you get the last napkin with cheese residue stuck to the center stacked on top of the pizza box with the paper plates you feel arms around your waist and the next thing you know you're being tossed into the back of the couch cushions.

"Shawn you dick!" You yell and he cackles from nearby. You regain your bearings and instinct kicks in. Having grown up with Shawn and your older brother, wrestling was nothing new. You had your fair share of throw downs with the big boys but it has been ages since it's happened. The instinct to fight back hasn't dwindled though and as soon as your feet hit the floor you're lunging at Shawn.

The two of you end up locked in a grappling match. He should have the upper hand, he's easily bigger than you and far more in shape than you ever dreamed to be. This should be a cakewalk for him but he's just on the more drunk side of tipsy and he's not focused. It's to your advantage because you drop your hands from his arms quick enough that he stumbles into you grabbing his waist and driving him back into the couch.

"You think you got me?" He laughs, arms curling around your chest as he lifts you up and over beside him.

Before you know it the two of you are on the floor, kicking the table askew, knocking over his stack of guitar cases. You're making a terrible mess and all because neither of you will submit.

Shawn rolls you over and pins you down by your forearms, legs hooked around yours. He has managed quite the effective pinning maneuver. You're impressed. "I win."

"You cheated."

"Did not!"

"Yes, you did."

He scowls and you laugh. He's so easy to rile up when he is a little drunk and riling him up means he loses focus. "You're just-"

You pull your arms away from his hold and push him up, making him fall back on his ass against the edge of the couch. He's quick to react to your little escape move. He snatches your shirt, pulling you into his lap and you collapse, chest in his face, legs straddling his thighs.

Silence befalls the apartment. Neither of you move. His warm breath ghosts through your hoodie, across your chest and his hands cup your ass from where he had attempted to stop you from getting away from again. The tension is palpable, suffocating even. Undoubtedly he can hear your heart, pounding rapidly in your chest. You're not sure what to do, how to make this feel normal.

Slowly you sink down, sitting on his lap and pulling yourself away from his face. He's red, flushed from forehead to neck. It's not from the alcohol. Your hands come to rest on his shoulders and he moves his hands from your butt, opting to hold your hips instead.

His lips are hot pink, mouth open just a bit as he stares at you, eyes darting between your eyes and lips. He's thinking the same thing, feeling the same way. Somehow you've both landed on the same page in this very moment.

"It's you." You mutter, saying the first thing that comes to mind. It doesn't make sense, really it shouldn't because you've said nothing about what he is.

He nods and leans in ever so slightly, soft smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He understands. "I know."

You slide your hands up the back of his neck, fingers twisting into his hair and he leans all the way in, lips connecting with yours. Blood rushes to your brain and you bring him closer, euphoria overtaking your body. The relief you feel is unlike anything else, like the weight of the world has been lifted off your shoulders.

"How long have you known?" You ask, pulling away just enough to press your head against his.

"Years, but the call, when you said you fell in love. I knew you were talking about me, I knew you were hiding it." He bumps his nose against yours. "I'm sorry I took so long to say anything."

You smile, letting out a little laugh as you do. "It's a two way street though. I never said anything either."

"Yeah." He slides his hands up your back. "Will you say it?"

"Say what?"

"You know what."

You duck your head and capture his lips for a moment. "I love you." He grins at the sound. "I love you Shawn Mendes."

Shawn squeezes you tight and kisses you hard and unabashedly. "I love you." He kisses your nose. "I love you from now until forever."

"Say swear to God."

He laughs and leans his head back on the couch, knowing you're teasing him. "I swear to God. Every God there is. I love you."

You sink down and lean your head on his chest, arms around his back. He raises his arms to hold you and you close your eyes. "I think I've always loved you," you say softly into his shoulder.

"Me too." He whispers back, body relaxing under yours. "Me too."

End

----------------------

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you read, want to save for later, or enjoyed! - A

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

[carmichealroyals]

CHARACTER INSPIRATION // C H A L L E N G E

Rules: Write up a blurb or make a visual collage of the people or characters (from books, TV shows, movies, etc.) that inspired your OC, either visually, personality wise, or just a general vibe.

I was tagged by this by so many lovely pals -- @thelockwoodroyals, @wa-royal-tea AND @ourwillowcreekroyals !!! I only feel bad that it took me so long but I wanted it to be as perfect as it could be while taking time to fiddle with Photoshop more (thank you @royaldevilliers for answering my silly questions). Below the cut are the descriptions for the personality types and tropes for each of the main three kids of this next generation! 

Not sure who’s done this yet, so if you see this and you want to do it, this is me telling you to do it!

CHARLOTTE:

The Protagonist:  Protagonists are natural-born leaders, full of passion and charisma. Forming around two percent of the population, they are oftentimes our politicians, our coaches and our teachers, reaching out and inspiring others to achieve and to do good in the world. With a natural confidence that begets influence, Protagonists take a great deal of pride and joy in guiding others to work together to improve themselves and their community.

Spirited Young Lady:  She is the girl who bends the rules just a little. Oh, she can dance a country dance or pour tea with the best of them, but she may also be a good walker or horseback rider. She may be the most intelligent girl in the story, and she is almost certainly the wittiest and the most outspoken, sometimes earning her the title of spitfire. She may be talented in more practical ways, as well: if given the opportunity, she may turn out to be a wise investor, and she may harbor talent for music, writing, or art that goes beyond drawing room entertainment and might become a means of financial independence if necessary. In rare cases, she may even solve a murder. Though she occasionally runs into some trouble, especially if she fails to obey the powers that be, she usually comes through in the end.

Deadpan Snarker: A character prone to gnomic, sarcastic, sometimes bitter, occasionally whimsical asides.The Deadpan Snarker exists to deflate pomposity, point out the unlikelihood of certain plans, and deliver funny lines. Typically the most cynical supporting character. In most cases, it is implied that the snarker would make a good leader, strategist, or consultant given their ability to instantly see the flaws in a constructed plan. More often than not, their innate snarkiness is the only thing preventing the other characters from comprehending this for themselves.

Politically Active Princess:  The Politically Active Princess is a princess that takes active interest in and plays an active role in politics. Naive courtiers and commoners alike might view her only as a figurehead, but in truth, she discreetly uses her position and guile in order to achieve her ends. Skilled in diplomacy, she will usually attempt to solve conflicts via conversation or bargaining, rather than combat. Her defining trait is her involvement in politics or diplomatic matters, without letting herself serve only as a bargaining chip.

Inspired by: Mia Thermopolis (The Princess Diaries); Lorelai Gilmore (Gilmore Girls); Vex’ahlia (Critical Role); Jenny Lee (Call the Midwife)

PETER: 

The Architect:  It can be lonely at the top. As one of the rarest personality types – and one of the most capable – Architects (INTJs) know this all too well. Rational and quick-witted, Architects may struggle to find people who can keep up with their nonstop analysis of everything around them.

The Dog Bites Back:  Unlike the Bastard Understudy and The Starscream, this character attacks as a crime of opportunity. There is no danger that he will take over the villain's place in the grand scheme of things. There is, however, a possibility that he will menace the others as a True Final Boss. The backstabber often ends up dead, but this is usually not Redemption Equals Death because their motive is not noble. Innocent victims who turn on the villain typically do it only for revenge, while evil victims prove that they were fine with all of the Big Bad's crimes except the one committed against them.

Middle Child Syndrome: Everyone loves the oldest child because the parents can rely on them, they watch out for their siblings, and they're so confidently attractive. The Youngest Child Wins because they're the "baby". But what does that leave the one in the middle? That's essentially the definition of Middle Child Syndrome, in which a child automatically may become The Unfavorite or the rebellious Black Sheep, specifically because they are the easiest child to overlook. They're not old enough to be given the responsibilities and privileges of the oldest, and the youngest child took their spot as the spoiled and doted-on "baby" of the family. This tends to be more of an issue when there are three children rather than four or more. Oftentimes in media, the middle child ends up becoming more of the Deadpan Snarker or the quirky one for this reason.

The Un-Favorite: Where there's an Alpha wolf, there's got to be a Beta. When there is a first banana, there is a second banana. This is the person in the family who can't get a break. For example, this is the child who's the big let-down to their parents, the daughter that was supposed to be a son (or vice-versa), the child the parents had by accident when they'd already decided they didn't need another mouth to feed, the adoptive, foster, or stepchild that came before the parents had a biological child, the illegitimate child conceived by infidelity on the part of one of the parents (if not even worse). But all in all, this is basically the kid who is always getting the short-end of the stick. In some extreme cases, this may cause Rich Sibling, Poor Sibling, especially if one sibling is forced into service to the other. A regular line that may be entailed with this is a variant of, "Honestly, [name], why can't you be more like [favorite's name]?"

Inspired by: Edith Crawley (Downton Abbey); Fiyero (Wicked: The Musical); Logan Huntzberger (Gilmore Girls); Rafael Solano (Jane the Virgin)

PEGGY: 

The Mediator:  Idealistic and empathetic, Mediators long for deep, soulful relationships, and they feel called to help others. But because this personality type makes up such a small portion of the population, Mediators may sometimes feel lonely or invisible, adrift in a world that doesn’t seem to appreciate the traits that make them unique.

The Baby of the Bunch: Being the youngest of your group typically comes with some perks and challenges. On one side you're probably the cutest, have a pass to act immature, people like taking care of you, and you can embrace your fun side, knowing that the elders are there to handle the serious stuff. And if there's anything you're naïve about, you have plenty of others to give you the realest unfiltered advice without the generational gap and detachment that your parents or the Old Master have. On the other end, sometimes people don't take you seriously. There you're kinda stuck because no matter how old you get, you'll always be "the baby" in their eyes.

Indifferent Beauty: A character who is attractive, aware of their effect on other people, but doesn't care or at least doesn't value their physical attractiveness over their other traits. Often, this character is a consummate professional who is well aware of the fact that they could use their "assets" to get what they want by other means, but feels that it would be unprofessional or beneath their dignity, and is instead focused on proving that they can compete purely on skill, often to the exclusion of romantic opportunities. While such characters are not averse to dressing in sexy outfits, they don't plan on relying on or even exploiting their sex appeal - but the camera will often do that for them. Other characters' indifference is not due to regarding relying on appearance to be beneath their dignity, but rather that they consider it to be unimportant.

Spoiled Sweet:  The Spoiled Sweet character is a naive, spoiled, rich or comfortably upper-class or upper-middle-class girl, who has everything they could ever want, but instead of being mean, she is as nice as can be to everyone. While still spoiled, slightly naive, perhaps shallow, maybe even a bit selfish at times, when it comes right down to it, she is a loyal friend and doesn't use her money or popularity as an excuse to treat everyone like garbage — though the trope Rich in Dollars, Poor in Sense is in play, especially since a particularly common sticking point is that characters of this type often believe their friends and other loved ones deserve to live just as well as they do.

Inspired by: Rory Gilmore (Gilmore Girls); Beth March (Little Women); Pike Trickfoot (Critical Role); Peggy Schuyler (Hamilton: An American Musical)

[mulderist]

Wicked Game

Chapter 1  // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3  // Read on A03

Washington, D.C - 1948. Fox Mulder is a detective on the top vice unit; scandal, corruption, and lies come with the territory. He is forced to investigate a fellow officer and finds the lies go much deeper than the truth.

tagging @today-in-fic​

CHAPTER 4

3rd District Precinct Washington, DC

The modest forensics lab was situated in the basement of the precinct building. A fitting location. It was always a strange trip downstairs, almost like walking into a spook house at an amusement park. You’d notice every creak from the antiquated filing cabinets, there were shelves of textbooks, yellowing medical journals, rows of glass jars containing shriveled specimens. The morgue was tucked away in a corner with a series of metal doors on the tiled wall and a surprisingly shiny slab resting comfortably over a drain in the floor. No more room at the inn by the look of it. Autopsy tools hung neatly on the wall like a butcher’s knife set; at least in this corner the boys kept things tidy. I walked a little deeper into the lab and saw Byers flipping through an issue of National Geographic. I cleared my throat as I approached.

“Mulder. What brings you to our neck of the woods?” Byers asked, dropping the magazine in his lap. The 3rd was fortunate enough to have three pillars of forensic science in Melvin Frohike, Richard Langley, and John Byers. They had their finger on the pulse of crime investigation techniques and were eager to share their findings with practically anyone who would listen. A good deal of the jargon went over my head but it enhanced my vocabulary to say the least. 

“Frohike called me regarding Spender’s case,” I replied, “We might have a golden ticket on our hands.” 

“He and Langley have been upstairs for a while but they should return soon. Have a seat.” He motioned to a wooden stool near a cluttered lab counter. I obliged. Byers was not much of a talker when he was by himself so his attention shifted back to busywork. I picked at the rough edge of my thumb watching Byers place a metal canister on the end of the counter. He opened it then took a sample of a dark substance, added it to the boiling water, and adjusted the flame on the Bunsen burner changing the intensity. He looked up at the wall clock and turned back to his experiment. The color change in the beaker shifted to a dark brown. Byers gave it a stir and covered the top. He sensed my curiosity.

“Coffee will be ready in a few minutes if you’d like some.”

I laughed and politely declined.

“Don’t you have a percolator?”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” Just then Frohike and Langley entered the lab.

“Oh good. You’re here,” said Frohike as he reached for a nearby lab coat, slipped into the sleeves and flipped it up onto his shoulders.

“We had a whale of a meeting upstairs,” Langley added, shoving a worn out briefcase across the counter making an open space, “Looks like Spender’s dirty little secret is out.”

“Krycek, my informant, pegged him as a hop head. I knew Spender could be a little on edge but I thought he was too straight-laced to use heroin.” I folded my arms. “What did Skinner have to say?” 

“The boss was none too pleased to find out that one of their top boys was on the horse.” Langley stated.

“And a thoroughbred at that. He was probably dipping into Vincenti’s supply.” Frohike remarked as he adjusted his glasses.

I sighed and shook my head. Byers poured his scientific brew into a small mug for himself and took a sip before saying, “Well there’s your motive.”

His colleagues shrugged in agreement as they each grabbed a cup of coffee.

“Makes you wonder if he was just starting out and got careless,” Langley said.

“Or he had been knee deep in the shit since making a deal, overconfidence took over, he couldn’t pay up and then blammo,” I said as I stood and leaned against the lab counter. Something about this seemed too easy. We had the gunman, we had a relatively clear motive, and we had the Captain scrambling to stuff this whole matter back under the rug. I needed to track down The Titan and put the squeeze on him for some information. Though with a newly buried partner I would need a second set of eyes on my surveillance job.

“Well boys, it’s been a treat but I have to make some telephone calls.”

“Hey Mulder,” Frohike called, “you should take some time for yourself; slow down for a day maybe.”

“That’s what whiskey is for.” I replied as I left the lab and took the stairs, not knowing what I’d walk into when I hit the bullpen.

Several officers didn’t bat an eye as I passed by their desks and I continued to avoid any eye contact as I glanced at my wristwatch. I reached my desk and pulled the phone closer as I took a seat, picking up the receiver. My index finger hovered over the rotary and just as I started to pull the number I heard the distinct baritone of Captain Skinner calling my name. It wasn’t bellowed so I knew I wasn’t being called in to serve detention for misconduct. I placed both hands on my desk and stood then met him at his office door. He blocked the threshold.

“Have you heard?” he asked.

“Yes. I was just down in forensics. I came up here to get started on what I presume is a surveillance assignment.”

Skinner thought for a moment.

“I want you to get a hold of Krycek. He’s going to accompany you on this detail.”

“Oh he’ll be thrilled.”

“Go on then,” Skinner said as he tensed his jaw, “And get me some goddamn answers.”

------

Georgetown Waterfront 1:05 p.m.

  Rain tapped angrily against the roof of the unmarked cruiser as I sat parked down the block from the Piccola Italia restaurant. It was a hole in the wall but a well known haunt for some of Vincenti’s crew. I hoped Carlo Lodi would be tempted by a lunch special of pasta arrabiata and cheap wine. My deli sandwich and soda I grabbed before the cloudburst paled in comparison, but I needed something in my stomach. I took another bite and watched a series of passersby through the streaks of rain on the window. I was early. I adjusted the radio dial and finished my lunch. With a swipe of the wiper blade I noticed a black coupe pull up in front of the restaurant. The door popped open and a hulking figure exited the passenger side, adjusted his jacket, and stepped under the awning out of the rain. He waited for his driver to join him before opening the front door. Just then there was a knock on my window. Krycek had his collar pulled up and drips of water cascaded off the brim of his hat. I rolled the window down to get a better look.

“You gonna let me in?”

“I don’t know if I can afford it.”

“Damnit Mulder...”

“It’s unlocked, Krycek.” I said as I looked at the empty passenger seat then rolled up the window, catching a splash of rain. He crossed in front of the car and waited for traffic to clear before opening the door. He sighed as he removed his hat and brushed off the rainwater. 

“Alright fill me in,” Krycek said. I turned down the radio and had the last swig of soda. 

“Recognize the car down there?” I began. He leaned forward and caught a glimpse as the wiper blade swiped the windshield.

“That looks like Carlo Lodi’s coupe.”

“He’s not alone. His lunch date is a suit that’s either a driver or a business partner, if you get my meaning. They’ve been in there for maybe ten minutes so if I move I can get what I need before his main course arrives.”

“Okay then,” Krycek said as he put his hat back on. 

“I’m just going to have a nice conversation. I need to get him talking. If I get him back to the precinct I can be more heavy-handed.” I adjusted my fedora and touched my weapon for reassurance. 

“You’re not saying “we” a whole lot. What the hell did you need me for?”

“At first I had you joining me on spoiling Lodi’s lunch but then I thought he might recognize you as a mole so you get to stay put. Keep the car running. If things take a turn I want you to head to the 3rd; with or without me. Ask for Captain Skinner.”

“Aw shucks this feels just like old times,” Krycek replied as he fished out a beat-up pack of Morleys shaking a stick loose. He pulled it out with his teeth then tipped his head down as he flipped his lighter, marrying flame to paper, blessing the squad car with a halo of smoke. Car tires splashed through wet pavement and I took that as my cue to get this show on the road. I opened the door and stepped onto the curb. The rain had slacked up as I walked. I narrowly avoided an umbrella being opened by an old man exiting a taxi. He continued on like I wasn’t even there.

Piccola Italia’s brick facade with its windows dressed in red and white gingham curtains fit the stereotype, as much as I hate to admit. But none of that mattered when I stepped inside and was hit with the aroma of bread, oil, and garlic. If I didn’t have a more pressing obligation I would have claimed a table and ordered a plate. I flashed my badge to the young woman at the cashier’s counter and she quickly nodded then went back to straightening menus. I moved past dark wood tables with diners enjoying an array of pastas and soups. My instinct led me through the dining room and I happened upon a curved booth tucked in a back corner near the kitchen. Lodi was there with his driver, luckily still just the two of them. He was reading the sports page from the newspaper and folded it in half then tapped a finger against it.

“That fuckin’ horse is gonna make me a stack of green, I’m telling ya.” He boasted with a laugh.

“Excuse me, Mr. Lodi?” I asked as I approached his table. He put down the paper and took a sip from his glass of wine and gave me a quizzical look.

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah I believe you can.” I carefully reached for my badge and flipped it open. “Detective Fox Mulder. I just want to chat.”

“And what makes you think I want to listen, detective?”

“I see you got the sports section there. What’s your game? Baseball, football?”

Lodi shot a look at his driver and gestured towards my direction. 

“This guy...if you must know Mr Mulder, I like the races.”

I took a seat across from him and folded my arms. Then I truly realized how much of a mountain this man was. His square jawline met a thick neck that was being held together by a stiff shirt collar and silk tie. I was waiting for it to burst open with each swallow. Broad shoulders and a barrel chest led to limbs that were solid muscle. The ring on his left pinky finger was about the size of a doorknob and had an insignia in the center. His pin-striped suit looked custom given his proportions. I got a little too comfortable and leaned forward in my chair, threading my fingers together.

“About a week ago, did you talk to a Jeffrey Spender about a horse race. Maybe come to collect a bet?” The mention of the name caught Lodi’s attention and he picked up on my code. Before he could respond, a waiter saddled up to the table and delivered a plate of pasta with a fiery red sauce. Lodi took another sip of wine.

“If I had to come collect you know there was a good reason for it,” he said as he twisted pasta on his fork then took a bite. The other man at the table started to undo his cuffs and slowly roll up his shirt sleeves.

“Well on behalf of the 3rd District precinct, I’d like to invite you over for a little heart to heart.,” I maintained a relaxed facade even though I knew what was coming, “We’ve got evidence placing you at a bar in Adams Morgan the same night as Spender.” Lodi ate another bite and closed his eyes savoring the spice. As he took his wine glass he raised his pinky finger which was the signal. I blinked and then I swear to God I saw enough stars to grace the American flag. A meaty Italian right hook slammed into my cheek like a sledgehammer. Glad he wasn’t wearing a ring. I was knocked sideways to the floor and I tried to catch the nearby table but instead let a dining chair unceremoniously break my fall. I never could take a hit. The few patrons in the restaurant barely took notice at the commotion. Carlo dabbed at the corner of his mouth and rose from his seat.

“Thank you, Theo,” he said as he moved over to pat my assailant’s shoulder. The enforcer’s goon cracked his knuckles and stood looking very pleased with himself. I moved my tongue to the inside of my cheek tasting fresh blood. I adjusted myself to sit upright, though not ready to stand just yet. I snatched a neatly folded napkin from one of the empty place settings and tried to dam the small crimson river from my mouth. Carlo crouched down next to me.

“So, you thought you could just walk into this fine establishment, disrupt my meal, and arrest me?”

“Until now it hasn’t stopped me,” I mumbled against the napkin. 

“Unless you got a warrant in hand, I’m not going anywhere. And this business with who was it...Spender? That’s done and so are you.”

“Why don’t you just bump me off like you did him?” I asked as I tossed the bloody napkin aside. Carlo thought for a moment and leaned in closer.

“I like seeing you get knocked around every once in a while, Detective Mulder.  Puts a smile on my face.” He blessed me with two exaggerated slaps on the cheek then got to his feet. “I think we’re finished here. Theo, show this son of a bitch the way out.” Carlo returned to his meal and raised a glass in my direction. I was still on my ass. I reached for my fedora and Theo took the liberty of hoisting me to my feet. The gorilla hands that left a new beauty mark gripped my upper arms and shoved me towards the kitchen.

“Easy there junior, my dance card is full.” I said as we moved through a swinging door. I was briefly distracted by the aroma of simmering marinara, stewing beef, and an array of spices.  The sous chef and line cooks unphased by the disturbance continued prepping as I was hustled towards the back door and pushed out into the alley.  I stumbled into the brick wall across the way and before I could turn around to get the final say, the goon slammed the metal door shut.  My head tilted back and I gingerly rolled it from side to side. I adjusted the brim on my hat and shuffled down the alley towards the street.

The rain had passed and I found Krycek parked where I left him. He had a fresh cigarette in his lips and was reclined against the car seat.  I tapped on the window and he unrolled it letting the rhythm of Count Bassie and his orchestra glide onto the sidewalk. 

“Looks like negotiations went well,” he said with a chuckle.

“Yeah you could say that,” I replied. My cheek felt like someone was inflating a balloon under the surface. I needed a drink. A wisp of smoke swirled out of the window and Krycek flicked the butt into a puddle. 

“Take the car back to the precinct.”

“What?”

“You can leave it running with the doors open if you want.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Take some advice I was given earlier today and get some rest. This case isn’t going cold anytime soon.” I watched as Krycek shifted gears and pulled away from the curb. There was a pang of mistrust thinking that the unmarked squad car would end up somewhere along the Potomac; but I also got the suspicion that Alex liked playing detective. Also long as I kept him on a short leash I could use him to my advantage. I crossed the street and walked the block until I found a phone booth. Before I slid open the door I had to spit out the stale blood that was collecting in my mouth. My cheek burned like fire. I picked up the receiver and dialed the operator.

“Yes I’m looking for a Dana Scully. Georgetown address.”

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

Grisly, Grim and a Fucking Delight: Feedback Review

TRIGGER WARNING: Torture, rape, daytime radio DJs. Don’t blame me, that’s just what’s in the movie.

Wow. Wow and a half. Wow and a half between two slices of thick white whoa. What a fucking movie. I’d say something like ‘they don’t make ‘em like that any more’, but they clearly do, because Feedback only came out a few years ago. I am astonished that I didn’t hear about it until tonight. You see, I was looking for an epic, slow-burn thriller to watch with my girlfriend and glamorous assistant, and I came across this little British movie about a radio talk-show host getting trapped in his studio when a bunch of masked psychos invade the premises. “Neat!” I thought upon reading the synopsis and watching the advert. “It’s Diehard but without schlubby, sarcastic Brits instead of overblown yanks.” As it turns out, I was wrong. Feedback is not an enjoyable but ultimately inconsequential gas pocket of a movie: it’s actually one of the most tense, conceptually horrifying and incendiary pieces of cinema- nay, Cinema with a capital C- that I’ve ever had the good fortune to witness. The more I think about it, the more impressed and enamoured I become. Unfortunately, in order to explain why, I’m going to have to spoil the whole freaking thing. For those of you who actually watch movies based on my recommendations (which would be, maybe, like two of you?) I’ll give you a nice non-spoilery recommendation right now: the acting is on-point, the plot is serpentine but not in a pretentious way, every prop and narrative element is used to maximum effect, the atmosphere gets tenser and tenser without ever letting you catch your breath and it’s exactly as long as it needs to be: there’s nothing missing and not an ounce of spare meat on it. It’s a lean, nasty predator of a movie and, if you let it, it will pin you down and rip out your jugular. I’ve only ever described one other movie as ‘transcendent’- a little psychological horror called The Perfection. Well, Feedback gets that exact same sticker but for completely different reasons. If you’re going to watch it- and you should- stop reading this review right now and go do it. It’s amazing.

And now for the spoilers. Consider this more of an analysis than a review. You see, the film reveals early on that the masked psychos invading the studio aren’t just randos with a political or philosophical axe to grind. They have beef with the radio host (whose name is Jarvis, incidentally. You don’t see enough Jarvises, either in real life or in movies. It’s a fun name and grossly underused, but I digress). You see, they think Jarvis’s friend raped a woman, killed another woman and beat the shit out of her boyfriend… and they think Jarvis knows all about it and may even have been involved. They force Jarvis to extract a confession from his friend early on and then kill him live on air, meaning that the rest of the film is devoted to a battle of wills between them and Jarvis as they try to force him to admit complicity, again live on air. Along the way, it’s also revealed that they aren’t just crusaders: they’re survivors of the incident and relatives thereof. Now, from the moment all these pieces were in place, I watched with an expectation of being disappointed. You see, I thought I knew what I was watching: Jarvis is visually and linguistically coded as am older slightly privileged but spiky elitist, so in most movies made after 2010 he’d automatically have been the bad guy (fuck me but do ageing white movie directors love to pretend they’re ‘woke’), while the people attacking him are visually and linguistically coded as youngish (except in one case) and victims, meaning that, in most movies, they would automatically be the good guys (hey, everyone loves an underdog, right?). I assumed I was watching one of those films. You know the ones I mean. One of those oh-so-clever ones that gets you to connect with and root for a character then reveals that he’s a shit-bag and punishes him and- by extension- you the viewer for taking his side. That was clever once, but I’ve now seen it on at least eight separate occasions, and it’s become trite. It’s particularly irksome because the victim-coded characters always get a free pass for their own shenanigans: they can murder, torture, brutalise and dehumanise but it’s always okay because something bad once happened to them. Frankly, I thought that’s what I was in for. Luckily. I was super wrong. That’s like regular wrong, only sexier and with sharper graphics.

You see, Feedback is way too smart to go for a black-and-white good-victims-versus-evil-central-character narrative. Instead, it’s a film about dehumanisation… or is it? You’ll see what I mean. In order to force Jarvis to admit complicity, his assailants don’t just fuck with him and his friend: they straight-up murder an innocent bystander and threaten to murder someone close to the protagonist. They hurt and do terrible things to Jarvis and the people around him, using torture methods that would make fucking ISIS throw up its hands and go ‘steady on, bruv’. They have a version of events that they’re convinced of but have only one unreliable character’s word for and Jarvis has a version of events that they refuse, point-blank, to believe. Jarvis’s story does begin to alter, but it’s never really apparent if he’s actually done something or if he’s just saying he has in order to keep the people around him (and himself) alive. Meanwhile, the ringleader of the little troop trying to extract a confession from Jarvis might be victim, but it also becomes apparent that she’s an unhinged psychopath intent on spilling as much blood as possible for her own personal sense of satisfaction and has as much interest in justice as a black hole has in the history of the stars it swallows up. Hooray! Some fucking moral ambiguity in a movie! I thought the entire industry had just forgotten how to fucking do that!

Much to my delight, Feedback doesn’t stop there. Merely by forcing the audience to make up their own minds about what they think happened and who’s actions are most justified, Feedback is already introducing a level of sophistication alien to modern cinema. But then it goes one step further by also subverting narrative expectations. You see, in a bleak, introspective, what-monsters-are-we-all flick like this, you expect the antagonists’ plan to succeed: you expect the last shot to be of the protagonist broken by the moral blankness of his reality, sitting in the wreckage of his life, unsure of whether he deserves what has happened to him or not. And that would have been a perfectly acceptable way to end this movie. But it doesn’t end like that. Because Jarvis is that rarest of things: a competent and determined dude. He’s not a superhuman. He doesn’t have special training. The flick doesn’t turn into an action movie or anything ridiculous. Jarvis just refuses to accept the bullshit happening to him and systematically works through every possible strategy to extricate himself without caving and admitting culpability that he doesn’t feel. He tries reasoned negotiation. He tries subduing one of the assailants temporarily and using them as a bargaining chip (the minimum necessary force approach), he tries escape and, finally, when all else fails, he uses a combination of psychology, surprise and familiarity with his environment to fight back with lethal force. It’s a considered, intelligent approach and, because his assailants aren’t organised terrorists just ordinary people who may (or may not) have a legit grievance with him, it succeeds and- to cut a long story short- he kills all of them in incredibly satisfying ways. There’s a bit involving a smug, I-can-be-as-evil-as-I-like-because-I’m-a-victim character getting skewered with a pair of scissors that instantly outranks anything in the Saw or Friday the 13th franchises as one of my all-time favourite movie kills (outright all-time favourite still goes to that bit in John Wick 3 with the really creative use of a library book, but that’s off topic).

During the climatic scenes of the movie, Jarvis screams his confession, but- as I said- it might only be a tool to distract his attackers and gain the upper hand while preserving the lives of the people he cares about. Equally, though, it might not. There’s a coldness to the character at the end of the film that wasn’t there at the beginning. Has he just been changed by the trauma of recent events, or are we seeing the facade drop away to reveal the true face of ruthless monster? And here lies the film’s final genius: not only doesn’t it answer this question (ambiguity for the win!) it also seems to suggest that the answer might not matter. Jarvis didn’t prevail because he was innocent- though he might be. His attackers didn’t fail because they became as bad as the thing they sought to fight (though they did). Victory and defeat aren’t defined by moral superiority. The film doesn’t assign winners and loser based on ethical or philosophical standpoint. Jarvis wins because he knows what the fuck he’s doing and his attackers are a bunch of overemotional quarter-wits with a half-baked plan that they can’t even stick to because they get too worked up. Survival, Feedback reminds us, has everything to do with being good at things, and fuck all to do with just being good. At every turn, the film tries to convince us that it has a moral point to make. Characters talk endlessly about truth and lies, justice and injustice… but in the end, it’s all smoke and mirrors. The film doesn’t have a central moral thesis (or, if it does, it’s a profoundly nihilistic one). Its real subjects are survival and will. It’s a study of what happens when two packets of brutal, remorseless determination meet eachother coming in opposite directions. It’s a dissection of the self-preservation instinct and its only real moral is ‘don’t fuck with a smart, grimly determined guy on his home turf if all you have to bring to the table is a short fuse and a big hammer’. Maybe that shouldn’t be refreshing, but in a cinematic landscape where every movie is determined to plant its flag on one side or the other of the political or ethical spectrum, it really fucking is. The fact that it gets you to think about ethical issues and who you believe on route elevates it, but the core of the film- the thing that makes it solid- is that refreshing element of nihilism. Breathe it in, folks: we don’t get many movies like this very often.

[unwiltingblossom]

Mine, Mine, Mine (JuminxMC, Mysme)

Summary: Jumin Han indulges her every urge. Sometimes, that makes her terribly spoiled.

This is heckin explicit. You’ve been warned.

were you ever like “gee there’s a lot of unreasonably possessive sexytime Jumin getting jealous over the MC but there’s nothing in the reverse?”

say no more, fam

Mine, Mine, Mine    

Jumin Han is the last man that she should even possibly worry about straying from her.

There’s no reason for her to be jealous of anyone when he looked at the other women in his life - barring Assistant Kang - with barely concealed disdain. He's also simply too socially awkward to manage an affair even if he hit his head or gets drunk and suddenly decides he wanted to.

More than that, he gives her everything she can possibly want. Whenever she voices even a passing whim, whether or not she voices it intentionally, he immediately stops everything he's doing to try to please her.

Probably...it’s made her a bit spoiled.

It doesn’t bother him at all, and that doesn’t help her wicked indulgences and spoiled behavior. She never takes advantage of him, never asks for what she knows is too much from him, but she’d be lying if she claimed she's not still a bit spoiled, by his own design.

And so, when she sees a beautiful, glamorous woman standing too near to her husband, she can’t help the way jealousy flares up even despite all reason.

The woman is beautiful. Immaculate. Tarted up, an uncharitable part of her mind supplies. He is utterly unaffected, eyes devoid of any spark of even passing interest as she plastered herself all over him, arms gripping his, brazenly pressing his arm between prominently displayed breasts. She may well have not even been standing there for all he notices her. It's a credit to her determination that she forges onward despite that. He politely ignores her advances, instead talking animatedly about the business proposition that she’d approached him with in the first place. The woman is the daughter of some company head, and that company must be terribly sure they can get a better deal if they seduce the son of a noted womanizer. She must be so very secure in her wiles, thinking she can pry a married man out of his wife’s clutches in broad daylight.

It's all she can do not to leap at the woman from the doorway where she observes and just claw the woman’s face like some teenage girl in a comedy flick.

She doesn’t do it. But it's close.

Eventually, they come to some kind of agreement, and the woman reaches down to sign the paperwork in an awkward way designed to try to keep her cleavage plastered to his arm. When the woman throws a salacious wink at the director, she strikes. Not at the woman, fortunately. But it's close.

Instead, she pounces her husband, wrapping her arms around his other arm and tugging him firmly away from the harlot--woman. From the woman. She speaks in a voice that's too sweet as she drags her husband away (with a noted lack of resistance). “Oh, My Love~! There you are. Come with me now~”

Her husband stumbles over his words for a moment, and it's rather adorable. She lifts her chin, giving a little huff of pride, and makes sure to give the woman a look. A 'this is mine' look. If there's an unspoken 'bitch' punctuating that look, that just can't be helped.

She leads her husband out of the room by the hand, head held high. “Assistant Kang, won’t you finish up the paperwork with that lovely woman in there? My husband just had something important come up.”

Jaehee’s gaze flickers between their joined hands, their expressions, and then the woman in the room, before giving a soft sigh. “...I’ll shuffle around the meetings.”

Her husband’s voice is against her ear as they walked, deep and unfairly amused. “Are you jealous, my love?”

She glanced up at him over his shoulder, summoning a look that’s much too cute for her clearly unacceptable behavior. “Can’t I be?”

A smile altogether too sweet and loving for her being so inappropriate spreads across his lips, and his free hand reaches up to gently run along her jaw. “Please do. My wife should indulge herself completely.”

Oh, he spoils her too much.

Just, entirely too much.

It makes it that much harder to keep her cool and control on the impromptu ride home. That, and the fact that her dear husband has settled in close to her, arms curling around her, face in her neck. She'd feel guilty being even briefly jealous over a man so obviously devoted to her if she could think straight. If a woman exists who could think straight with Jumin Han kissing her neck, well...she wouldn't. She just wouldn't exist. She refuses to accept such a person can exist. The exotic and beautiful smell of his ludicrously expensive cologne fills her nose, the warmth of his lips and tongue spreads through her body to her heart, and that prickling, too-sweet, chemical smell of the other woman's perfume turns the warmth into a jealous burn that blooms violently in her chest. Her fingers card through his hair just roughly enough to earn the soft purrs from his throat that always result in answering gasps from her.

The ride to their house passes in a blur, with a mutual pawing at each other in the seat that's completely unbecoming of a couple their age. When they stumble out of the car, their clothes are more than disheveled, and her husband can't quite stand up straight. The sight of his blush and shortened pace cause a fresh blush to rush across her face and her heartbeat to speed up once more. His half-lidded gaze meets hers just outside the door, and for a moment she wonders if they'll even make it inside.

They do.

But it's only because she's so very determined to have her way - and he is, also, very determined to have her way.

He spoils her too much, but maybe in this case it's a good thing, as otherwise there'd undoubtedly be stories of the rich CEO in line having sex with his wife outside the door of their extravagant mansion.

She leads him by the hand through the house with a firm grip. As if he'll pull away otherwise. For the most part, from when they left the building to now he's been quiet, hardly passive, but more than willing to allow her to take control of the situation without question.

Once they get to the bed, he finally speaks once more, hand going to loosen his tie. "My love, what is it? Were you so perturbed by her? If you wish-"

"You're mine, aren't you?" She speaks over him, because if he finishes that question when she's feeling this selfish, she knows she'll ask for something that she doesn't mean, something that will interfere with his work, and he'll agree without a moment of hesitation. She knows herself, and more importantly she knows him. Her sweet, beloved, terribly devoted husband, who wishes only for her to put herself before everything else in life, even him. One of her hands place over his heart - racing as quickly as hers, despite his gentle expression - and the other presses to his cheek, a gesture he immediately responds to by nuzzling much like their cat would.

"Completely. Not an ounce of me is anything less than yours."

The honey in his voice, that unfiltered love and devotion, it can make her melt completely. It has in the past. It might do it again. She might physically just turn into a puddle. And...damn it, she wants to do something else first! No melting yet, no swooning from the wonderfully deep and sensual voice of her husband! Not this time! She's set her heels in to be selfish and stubborn, and if she's dragged him from work she's going to go through with it!

"Lay on the bed." Her commanding tone is ruined by the compulsive, softer "Please." that follows it.

The smile that unfurled on his face is like the breaking dawn, beautiful enough to take her breath away just looking at it, and when he leans down to scoop her up into another kiss, she loses complete track of what day, planet, or plane of existence she still occupies. Who knows if she's even still existing at all? She doesn't. It might last forever, that kiss, one of his arms wrapping around her to pull her close, the other gently cradling her head through her hair. It is a kiss they've both learned for each other. Their earliest kisses had been just a touch awkward, uncertain and inexperienced on both of their ends, and it had been practice with each other that perfected it, exactly to the way that drove the both of them the most crazy.

She might be swept away and satisfied by the hotness of his mouth on hers, the way she can feel him tremble with the very same love and desire that she feels coursing through her own veins. Any doubt she could have washes away in nothing more than a kiss. He needn't have answered her before, because the kiss tells her 'I am yours', as much as she tells him she is his with it, as much as any words could have.

But she is selfish.

She feels greedy.

Today she wants more.

So, she pries herself out of the wonderful kiss and pushes her lanky husband into the king sized bed they share. It takes him no time at all to move and make himself comfortable, laying on his back, dress shirt half unbuttoned, hair disheveled and lips shining, just slightly swollen from their kisses. He is a work of art that puts old masterpieces to shame. Something beautiful she never wants to share with the world. This side of him. The burning love and lust in his eyes as he watches her expectantly, the entirely human Juman Han she knows, without a trace of the cold and reserved 'robot' that people who know nothing about him accuse him of being. Only she ever wants to be able to see it.

She straddles him on the bed, still clothed, and gently pulls his arms up to the head of the bed. He calls her name gently, questioning, as she ties one wrist deftly with his tie and the other with a long and sturdy kerchief. There. He absolutely can break free if he wants to, but...the image of her dear husband tied to her bed, her prisoner for the moment, is good enough. And her dear husband is as quick to indulge her desires as ever.

She leans down to kiss his forehead, his nose, his lips. He chases after her futilely when she pulls away from him, and her finger trails along his jaw and throat, admiring the sensation of him swallowing under her fingertip. She speaks quietly, with a sultry tone that surprises even herself. "I need to leave more marks on you, so that no one will try to touch what's mine."

He groans her name as she leans down to kiss and bite down his exposed neck, and she can't help but enjoy the sight of his adam's apple bob before her eyes. Her lips encircle over it as it moves, and he twists bodily under her. Underneath her hands, she can feel the groan that ripples through his chest. it makes her purr and shiver in response. They've not really experimented that much, honestly. Most of their lovemaking is straightforward, falling into each other's embrace, loving every part of each other, every moment they can spend together.

But...

The sensation of her husband twisting beneath her, the labored breaths of his restraint, it does something that leaves her dizzy and feeling powerful.

Her fingers reach down to undo his buttons while she kisses down heated skin, murmurs out words against his racing heart. "After all...you're mine, aren't you? All of you. Your heart. Your body." Her tongue traces along the dips and curves of his chest, as her hands splay out to tug soft silk away from his form. A cry that's almost shrill tears from his throat as her teeth loosely encircle one dusky nipple, the tip of her tongue swirling along it. Ah, if only she'd done some studying before this. If she'd looked up some techniques, rather than impulsively decided to do this without warning, she's sure she could be much better at this. Leaving her darling the kind of whimpering mess she feels like he leaves her as would be a wonderful turn, wouldn't it?

Yet, this is all about herself for now. Just this time.

She can hear his voice rasp from above her, an affirmative that isn't truly necessary. "My heart..."

She wants to press herself into him. To mark him somehow, so that women who look at him know to stay back, that he's hers even when she's not standing nearby. Something more than just a physical mark like a ring, but an aura that simply pushes them all away.

"My soul-" or so he tries to say. She's bolder after the first, lips and teeth biting down teasingly, even tugging at the other nipple while he's speaking. It's a rather pleasant sound he makes, the way his low and rumbling voice melts into incoherence, a needy, almost confused sound she hasn't often heard from him.

Her teeth graze his belly button as her gaze turns up to look at him. Sweat beads across his forehead, face reddened, gaze fixated on her as his hands flex into fists. His lips part just slightly, as if he wishes to say something more, but has forgotten the words. It's a sight that sends a surge of want through her, and forces her to swallow down an undignified sound. "Even when you're away....I'm the only thing on your mind, isn't that right? You're all mine."

His voice is strained. "My love..." her hand palms over the painfully obvious erection still trapped by his perfectly tailored suit pants, and his words trail off into a tormented groan, head falling back into the pillow, veins in his neck bulging as he twists his whole body once more.

It only takes a moment more to undo those expensive pants and tug down his boxers, silk already stained with the beading pre at his tip. Even if she hadn't been able to tell through his pants, it's really no surprise to see just how stiffly her husband is already at attention. He's always extremely responsive to her, always seeking more from any of her loving touches the same as she seeks more from his. But from the current angle, him just barely managing to turn a hungry gaze back down to her, his face now obscured in her vision by his shaft, she can't help another little surge of power. Making her husband so undone so easily...he gives her too much power over him, honestly. She could abuse it at any time. Doesn't he realize she could be a beast, too, just as much as Zen claims her husband could be?

Slim fingers encircle the base of his length, slowly moving just to draw out that honey-thick moan, extracting it as slowly as her hand moves, filling her ears with the sound of his voice. "This, too." She presses her lips to the very tip of his manhood, pulling away teasingly the moment his hips jerk up to pursue her. He's spoken bashfully from time to time about 'unfair' thoughts he's had about her lips. She wonders, idly, if perhaps this is one of those scenarios or not. It goes without question that she'll indulge him in his fantasies as much as he indulges her, but he's never elaborated beyond the vague references when he's hot and bothered but can't do anything about it. Her hand grips him harder, pumping along hot flesh with determination, relishing in the groans, those desperate almost squeaking gasps as he struggles to form words of either protest or encouragement - she can't tell, because he never gets far enough along.

She bites her lip, drawing in a shaky breath. "I'm the only one that gets to see...to touch, and to use this." -other than him, her mind helpfully supplies, and she quickly tosses that thought aside - Not now, dammit! - Her lips encircle him, tongue curling along that hot flesh - smooth and soft skin thinly stretched over hard steel. His hips buck up against her with unusual urgency, and that pained cry that rips from her throat sounds anything but pleasurable. The bed creaks as his wrists strain automatically, and he gasps her name in such a strangled voice she can barely recognize it.

She hums around him as she moves, listening to that faintly wet sound pair with the panting, needy gasps of her husband. The springs on the bed squeak lightly with every urging buck of his hips into her mouth, and she firmly places her hands on that rather lovely pelvis of his, keeping them still. As if she's punishing him for something. As if to drive the point home that he's hers, that his body is hers, and that no other woman is allowed to touch him but her. The taste of him on her tongue causes a heady rush that makes her eyes flutter shut briefly, the short and choked moans punctuate faintly wet sounds as he lips and tongue glide with determined purpose.

It never takes particularly long for her lover to climax - something mutual between them, fortunately - but it's even more brief this time, comparatively. She can feel the way he tenses underneath her, the way his voice turns pleading, desperate and shrill - a lovely crack in his voice she likes to believe no one else knows is even possible from him. He's so hot in her mouth it almost burns. The head of the bed creaks dangerously, as if wood could splinter at any moment. His stomach twitches and flexes as he crunches and writhes, jerking hard enough to bounce lightly on their plush bed, her name is so tormented and sweet in her ear. He pulses inside her mouth, up against the flat of her tongue, hard enough to make his length flex and bounce against the roof of her tongue.

It's the only warning she gets before he bursts in her mouth, hot and salty, flooding her cheeks, making her struggle to swallow him down as ragged sobs wrench from his throat.

He's a panting and wheezing mess, her dear husband, face turned to partly bury himself in their pillow, what's still visible red and beaded with perspiration.

Has she seen him so completely wrecked before? It's hard to say, but it makes her heart clench and her thighs squeeze together at the same time.

Feeling rather like...a panther, a dangerous and powerful cat who's cornered her prey and has him right where she wants him, she slips back up along his body. Her fingers trail along his skin and she enjoys the twitching and flexing of his muscles wherever her nails lightly run.

When she leans down to capture his lips in a possessive kiss, she very nearly dies.

She's never felt him so needy, so urgent, so determined to pour his feelings into a kiss like he's simply put all of the authority and demand that he uses as 'director of C&R' into burning her lips and mouth with the love and dedication filling his body. He still doesn't break away from those hastily tied knots, he makes no requests of her to release him, he simply kisses her - biting and nibbling and suckling at her lip and tongue in ways they've done before but never quite this way - in a way that reaches deep into her body and physically yanks at her stomach. She can barely breathe, even when they pull apart again, eyes nearly the same color now with their matching pupils, cheeks red and hot enough to radiate heat between them.

"I love you." She breathes it out without even really meaning to, barely even conscious that it's what she's speaking and not simply what she's loudly thinking.

The look on his face is so full of adoration that for a terrible moment she's almost sure he might cry instead. "There is nothing I could ever love so much as you."

He's so eloquent when she's just had him a mewling mess on the bed that it's hardly fair. She's supposed to be the one taking control and being a selfish brat, but he's sweeping her away and leaving her swooning instead. She draws in a sharp breath before her throat can seize up or the prickling in her eyes can become worse, and she quickly looks away from him at a wall. She draws herself up, then, still straddling him, sitting lightly atop his abdomen.

Somewhat composed once more, she summons the strength to turn her gaze back down to the entirely smitten look of her husband.

"Then, my darling...." She touches his chest with a finger, and her lips curl up into a smirk, as she feels perhaps a touch too proud of herself. "You won't mind if I ride you until you can't remember anything else but me."

[micamicster]

this post is for @tovezza ! I’m ur vergil here to guide you through the 9 circles of cw hell lmao

Ok so I am going to make a list of episodes that I think will serve your purposes (family dynamics, american experience). I will be bolding episodes that I think are particularly “good” (good being a subjective term at all times but particularly in the case of cw’s longest running hate crime, supernatural) Episodes that are not bolded you can assume are on here for being a pretty good monster episode and worth watching, but not specifically your interests (unless otherwise explained).

Ok warnings for early season supernatural. Dean is at least passively suicidal as early as season 1, so if that is a trigger for you message me and I will give you more specific warnings! Other than that, Racism, sexism, you know the drill.

ONE MORE THING! Don't watch season 1 on netflix. (Watch it on p*tlock*r or something) Netflix didn't shell out for the music rights for the first season and the music is all wrong! This wouldn't be such a big deal for most shows, but the music is AMAZING in supernatural it’s one of the only things they get right and a lot of the scenes just don’t hit as hard without it

ok SO: buckle up there are 15 seasons and ive watched at least 8 of them so there is a lot of Content for us to sift through!

Seasons 1-3

Idk how much you know about this show but there is Dean (my fave) and his younger brother Sam and for the first 3 seasons the two of them mostly drive around hunting monsters and grappling with the effects that their abusive dad and childhood trauma had on them. Overarching plot is that they are looking for their father, who is hunting the demon who killed their mother and sam’s girlfriend (TWO fridgings in episode one! a record!)

They have really mastered the art of the procedural: almost any episode in those seasons is going to be both a fun 40 minute horror movie and have some good character stuff. 

Pilot: like it’s fine. Not a standout episode and the exposition is a little clumsy but if you really have no clue who tf these people all are it’s probably good to start here.

Dead in the Water: great Dean episode

Phantom Traveler: good because it introduces how demons work. Otherwise pretty run of the mill

Bloody Mary: here we got american urban legend that I played in elementary school, dean looking hot, fall out boy on the soundtrack... what more can a girl ask for?

Skin: like not to spoil the punchline but dean shoots himself in this one.

Hook Man

Bugs: This one is racist and Bad but it also contains some of the early arguments between sam and dean over their dad, and the implication (through jensen’s jacting joices) that their dad was physically abusive to him, if not to sam. Or you could just take that as established fact and not subject yourself to this monstrosity.

Home: something is haunting their childhood home. Sam is having visions. I hate John Winchester.

Scarecrow: Great episode that validates my deep-rooted fear of small towns

Faith: FAITH! Like this is the first episode that came to mind when you asked for fucked up family dynamics and america. Also crucial to the Dean/Cas dynamic in the future. I am in love with dean and i hate John what more is there to say. If you are ignoring my advice and watching on netflix do me a favor and at least watch this one elsewhere. 

Route 666: racist car ep. yeah. but it does contain Cassie, who is great and is dean’s ex. If you would rather skip (it is not a good ep) I think the important information to have is that dean told his girlfriend the truth about what he does, as opposed to sam, who intended to lie to Jess indefinitely.

Shadow: John Winchester makes his first real appearance! Necessary bc you see the family dynamic on full display for the first time. I hate him

Something Wicked: ELDEST DAUGHTER CODED

Provenance

Dead Man’s Blood, Salvation, Devil’s Trap: the plot of the season concludes in some RANK family dynamics seriously fucked up

Moving on to season 2! You can go back to netflix for the rest of the show it will have the correct music from now on

Season 2 ep 1 In My Time of Dying: FUCK YES

Everybody Loves a Clown: I guess we’ll have to deal with All That... gestures vaguely at the previous few episodes. Introduces Jo and Ellen who I love.

Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things: FELLAS ARE YOU EVER VICIOUS ARE YOU VIOLENT DO YOU ROT THE GROUND YOU WALK ON

No Exit: Jo is in this which is fun. Honestly most of the generic motw episodes this season are solid

The Usual Suspects: introduces Victor Henrickson! I love him! (yeah hes a cop... but)

Crossroad Blues: speaking of american folklore....

Croatoan: a lot going on in this ep. contains one of my favorite lines of dialogue in this whole show alskg;gjsdg like sometimes it is Self Aware. Dean reveals the last thing his dad asked him to do before he died. I hate John Winchester.

Night Shifter: oh fuck yeah victor henrickson. This is a great episode.

Houses of the Holy: can you believe they didn’t plan to have angels in the show CAN U BELIEEEEEVE ...god everything good about this show was an accident

Born Under A Bad Sign: good if you think Sam is the main character

Tall Tales: this ep is just really fucking funny

Hollywood Babylon: this is just really funny what can I say!

Folsom Prison Blues: dean said acab!

What Is and What Should Never Be: oh. speaking of fucked up family dynamics. This one is like a kick in the teeth

All Hell Breaks Loose: season finale and very important both for the plot and for the characters!

Season 3! One of the best seasons, and (due to the writers strike) one of the shortest! Dean is.. so fucking good this season.

The Magnificent Seven: plot mostly. Introduces Ruby who is very important

The Kids Are Alright: introduces Lisa! I have mixed feelings about where her story goes but that doesn’t mean I don’t like her. Dean interacts with kids idk how much of a selling point that is for you but it sure is for me!

Bad Day at Black Rock: sooo fucking funny also introduces Bela I love Bela Justice 4 Bela

Sin City: really good Dean content, the plot of the ep is weak tho

Red Sky at Morning: not everyone likes this episode but Bela is in it so EYE love it

A Very Supernatural Christmas: family traumaaaaa and... a christmas monster plot? ok?

Dream a Little Dream: DEAAAAAN I LOVE YOUUUUUU

Mystery Spot: really funny until it. isn’t.

Jus in Bello: REALLY good episode. I love Victor. Justice 4 Victor

Ghostfacers: ok this is a spectacular episode it is deeply chaotic tho so. brace yourself.

No Rest for the Wicked: Listen to Johnny THEE Cash’s 25 Minutes To Go before watching. Cannot BELIEEEVE they ended the season like that genuinely... Back when this show had cojones

I will update this post with season 4 and 5 if you actually get that far. I think that since you’re interested in the family dynamics and the american roadtrip feeling then seasons 1-3 are really a good place to dig into that, and that allows the show to explore john winchester/God parallels in seasons 4-5 without it feeling unearned.

[welcometothebookreport]

Weekly Wrap up: 12/20/2020 - 12/27/2020

It’s the end of the first week here at this blog, though technically it’s only the second day that we’ve been live. On Sundays, I’ll be posting weekly wrap-ups with what I’ve been reading all week, my thoughts, and hopefully a graphic that I’ve spent too much time on. At least that’s the idea. School may not allow for blogging much, but I’ll wing it when I get there. 

In case the graphic doesn’t load, everything is mentioned down here again so there’s nothing to miss! Keep in mind, there will be spoilers for titles mentioned below the line, and also please do not spoil me if I’ve mentioned that I’ve not finished it yet. :) 

This week I read... 

In A Holidaze by Christina Lauren

This Time Next Year by Sophie Cousens

Serpent & Dove by Shelby Mahurin

Red Queen by Victoria Aveyard (in progress)

In A Holidaze by Christina Lauren

Rating: 5/5

Warnings: no hard warnings. This is a very light read. 

Thoughts about this book

I picked this book as part of my December box for Book of the Month Club and I almost didn’t read it this month at all. After finishing Serpent & Dove though, I decided that I really wanted some holiday cheer since I didn’t have any. It’s a good thing I did because this ended up being my favorite read of the year, and right at the final buzzer too. 

Our protagonist, Mae, ends up in a time loop when she makes a stray wish to the universe: Show me what will make me happy. I had my doubts about whether I would like the plot since it seems a little silly, and I wanted something with some substance. Pleased to admit that I was wrong about all of my thoughts at the beginning. Thing is, this book is silly. In fact, it’s downright hilarious and I laughed out loud so many times I lost track. It’s also serious in the right spots, but really it’s a tender story about getting your one true love. However, it’s not only a love story. 

It takes a while for Mae to throw caution to the wind. Approximately two return trips to the plane (with a courtesy whack to her brother’s face, actually) in, Maelyn Jones decides that none of this matters because she’s just going to start over anyway. In a fantastic outburst, she barks at her dad not to eat the cookie (he’s going to break his tooth on it), and a slew of other orders because she’s so fed up with it all. Then we see this woman start living when she hasn’t been, and to be completely honest, you don’t even realize it’s happening at first. 

She doesn’t realize it either. 

Andrew Hollis is the older brother of Theo (and Theo’s been carrying a torch for Mae, it seems) and also the brother Mae has spent years of her life pining after. They’re wicked close, wondrously hilarious together, and by the end of the book - No. By the time I was a quarter of the way through, I was pretty sure I was going to be in love with him too. Half-way in, I knew I was. 

I could go on and on about this book, but I’m going to spare you because a) I need to learn to be more concise with reviews and b) I really want you to read it and see if you love it as much as I did. 

The Funniest Moment for Me: 

I simply cannot pick one moment, but if I have to, I plucked the one out of my head that I thought of first. 

When they were kids, Mae painted their initials on the bottom of a mug. The full thing of MJ + AH and it’s adorable. Later, Mae admits it to Andrew, and he holds it up to the light in an equally adorable way and realizes that he can still see it, even though it’s been painted over. 

Favorite Scenes

I’d like to say the entire book, just for the record, but I can’t. Or can I? I kind of make the rules for my own posts, don’t I? 

Every single moment spent in the boathouse, even the ones that made my eyes water. They’re so perfect together, and I just love this couple, and this story so much I can hardly begin to explain it. 

What I learned from this story: 

Mae is stuck in a rut. In a job she doesn’t love, living with her parents, and without the love life that she wants. The shift in her is a dramatic one, and you have to root for her. I know I did because I saw too much of my own traits in her. A job I don’t love anymore, a position in life I don’t want anymore, the list goes on. 

Mae didn’t need the great love of her life to change everything, but she starts knocking down walls, and starts taking everything she wants. She tells the truth (that she has feelings for this man, that she hates her job,) and she tells Andrew. She quits her job in the twenty seconds of bravery that she’s always had, but has just unlocked. 

So, if there is something to take away from this, it’s that you’ve just gotta go for it. 

This Time Next Year by Sophie Cousens

Rating: 3/5

Warnings: Therapist Sessions, Mention of Miscarriage, A Garbage Parent, Depression, and Anxiety. Please mind that these warnings are for mentions inside the novel as well, and not necessarily something that happens to either of the leads.

Thoughts: 

This one was part of my November box for Book of the Month Club! I decided to read this since NYE is right around the corner, and bam, this one happens to open on NYE. 

I enjoyed this book. It was a fun romance, but it was more than that too. Minnie Cooper believes in a New Years jinx that started the night she was born, when her mother helps another woman through labor and delivery, and this woman wins a prize for the first baby born. Not only that, this woman takes what was meant to be Minnie’s name: Quinn. 

Listen, the joke Minnie Cooper was funny for about twenty pages before I really began to hate it. The book is over 300 pages. It’s one of those things I could deal with, but never really got past because it annoyed me so much. Moving on! 

A chance encounter leads to the meeting of Quinn and Minnie at a birthday party on NYE. As you can guess, it’s a party for Quinn. There are several encounters between these two through the book, and each one of them left me wanting to get to the next one. 

The main storyline is told in a linear fashion, but there are flashbacks from both characters too. At first, you may not realize that these two have met before. Or maybe you do realize it and I’m just so oblivious it hurts. Probably that one. 

I liked the romance, but what really caught my eye was the issues raised within the book. One character regularly attends therapist sessions in an effort to help themselves, in an effort to get better. The terrible issue of miscarriage is brought up (but this does not happen to either of our leads, but is still important!) and then we are living through a year in the life of these characters as they try to find what makes them happy. 

I liked this book, but I didn’t love it. It ranked as a ⅗ for me for a few reasons. I wanted more development. The romance felt a little lacking in some spaces, and I’m not sure if that’s because I had just finished In A Holidaze the day before, but it felt lukewarm to me. 

I appreciated the issues raised, and mostly enjoyed the way they were handled, but I wish some of them had been expanded on. I wasn’t a fan of brief time skips (where they could be a few months at a time) because it felt like a hole in the plot. 

Minnie Cooper. It’s hard to get into a story where I dislike the name so much. 

I just did not enjoy a part of the book that involved Minnie, her best friend Leila, and the proposal for Leila from her boyfriend that Minnie helped plan. It was meant to be funny, but it was more cheesy and it fell flat for me.

Serpent & Dove by Shelby Mahurin

Rating: 5/5

Warnings: Misogyny, violence in parts, religious zealots (in case that’s something that makes you uncomfortable like it did me), derogatory slurs toward women.    

This one has been on my TBR for a long time, and I finally dug into it. From the first day of reading, I was not sure I was going to finish it. Religion plays a central focal point to the plot of the first book, and one of my friends told me to press on, because it’s not as prevalent in book two. I don’t know about that yet, because I haven’t read it. 

I have so many pages marked in this book for how much I loved it. Truly. Lou is witty, quick to snap, and Reid’s character development is something I’ve marveled at. Going in, I knew there would be a forced marriage, but I wasn’t at all sure how it would come into play. I have to admit, it was a pretty creative way to go about it. 

Watching these two characters orbit each other, with each of their harsher exteriors beginning to come down has to be my favorite part, and the main reason I pressed through the parts that creeped me out. 

Reading Reid say the word fuck was a highlight for me. I have so much to say about this one, but I’m planning to write a proper review, and to show my annotations, so I’ll save that for another day!

Red Queen (Red Queen #1) by Victoria Aveyard

Warnings: None that I’ve seen yet. 

Rating: too soon to tell 

This is a book club read for my friends and I. It’s taken a bit for me to get into, but these are some of my notes up to where I was last night at page 93. 

It’s quite interesting, and books set in a dystopian world have never held my attention well. So, I’ve been struggling to really sink into it versus how well I fell into Caraval. 

The main character is beginning to grow on me more, and I’m curious to learn more about Cal and Maven. I’m certain that Cal is going to break my heart (don’t tell me if he’s going to) and also what will happen with Kilorn now that Mare will no longer be living in Stilts. 

I’ll finish it in the next couple of days, so hopefully I’ll have really grown to like it by next week’s post. 

What about you? What have you been reading this week? Sorry this is so long too. Eventually I’ll learn how to be more the point because nearly two thousand words is kind of embarrassing. 

[allyvampirelass29]

The Besiege of Bruce Wayne McQueen

A NOS4A2 Review By: Allyssa J. Watkins

I didn't say you could get up I'll swing the hammer back Until you've had enough Your armor cracking, amidst your son's frantic call Tell me, Victoria Who's the Strongest Creative of them all? Bones breaking You cower before me shaking As I wield my blunt instrument without relent You've had your fun, Bad Mother I hope you've gallivanted to your heart's content I am the magic your beautiful boy has so long lacked Bruce Wayne best behave Or I'll break his mother's back Lost Boys belong in Neverland Consider me, his Peter Pan You don't care for him like I can Neglect and endangerment is the McQueen way, isn't it? You selfish fake C'mon Vic He's safer with his Uncle Manx You ungrateful Brat....... Just say THANKS!!!!

Three words. PULSE. POUNDING. PHENOMENAL!!!!!!! I write this wide-eyed and shell-shocked, a trembling wreck of electric emotion, the prevalent being pure, paralyzing BLISS!!!! DAMN, NOS4A2 you are SPOILING us!!!! Is it Christmas!? Last week I watched the glowing potential of the ascending firework disappear, and just as I lamented its predicted fizzle out, it SHATTERED the skies around me with an explosion of colours brighter and more vivid than anything I've ever seen, in a deafening ROAR!!!! HOLY SMASH!!! I LOVED THIS EPISODE, so much so, that I feel like I lived it, every death defying second, so ALIVE with the rawest emotion, the most terrifyingly beautiful villainy, my every sense heightened, and in this bloody besiege for one, Bruce Wayne McQueen, our spectacular cast shines BLINDING, giving their best, and most authentic performances of the series. Prepare yourselves for a Lake House excursion, you will NEVER forget!!!!

I LOVED how this episode sent us sprawling right into the action, and I was so so so wrong about the fantastic build-up of the suspense from last week going to waste, because it lit the fuse for one HELL of a firework display. Where last week didn't hit me quite hard enough, this episode STRUCK like LIGHTNING, electrifying every vein, and barely taken breath. The fight scene....... yes, you know the one, the all out, claws drawn, hammer wielding, haughty taunting, smoulder and slashing duel to the death was pure, screaming, POETRY!!! It's ART, the most electric, ENTHRALLING, aria of wit and savagery, it's the single most INTOXICATING scene, not just in an episode full of instant iconic images, but of the ENTIRE series.

Vic VS Manx, a faceoff fraught with revenge and raw energy, no special powers, no knives even, just hurling razor-edged words, fighting, grappling, scraping, nothing but an autopsy hammer between the two of them, was MESMERIZING!!! Charlie is a black, roiling wave of breathtaking rage, coming down on his worst enemy like hurricane thunder, with a ruthless, ferocity, such as we have never before seen. I loved every second, even as I fell apart at the seams, hand clasped over my mouth, trying not to scream. While some might say this head on collision lacked his usual finesse and refined showmanship, I must vehemently disagree. How clever of the writers to give us a Charlie driven to the verge, snapping, shaking off his gentleman's cape, to reveal his sharpest edge, and rawest fury, not to mention darkest intent. Charlie's done playing the game....... he's ready to win, to take the queen. Or in this case, the prince.

The juxtaposition of his elegantly brandished wit, and the brutality of his swiftly dealt blows, is pure, and utter genius, not to mention one hundred percent CHARLIE!!! I grinned like a lovesick schoolgirl when he told Vic, "I hope you have galivanted to your heart's content." I'm swooning, even as I write that, his dialogue was on point, as the kids say, as perfectly tailored to his elegant malevolence, his beautiful wickedness, as that magnificent chauffer's coat!!! Also, forgive me my shameless fawning, but can we TALK about his shiny, raven especially gorgeous HAIR during this episode!? Whether it's falling wild in his eyes, as he draws back his blood-thirsty hammer, or hanging in dark, feathery waves, as he smirks, leaning over his seemingly vanquished nemesis, Charlie's iconic silken strands were as deadly as his backswing, drawing my eye, and stoking my passion something fierce!

I loved how he laid it all out for her in his Malicious Manx Rhetoric, and one of the things I desperately love about Charlie, is how he can speak such vulnerable truth, even in the midst, of a rasping seethe. He explains it all, passes his sentence, this is why you don't deserve him, this is what I'm going to do, and why you can't stop me, even as he pounds the hammer against her back, oblivious to the protective armor, cleverly concealed in her biker jacket, due to some quick thinking, and a fun, surprising telepathic assist from the miniature McQueen. "No Mom, just play dead......" I loved all the nerves Charlie touched on, not just physical nerves, but the exposed, emotional ones as well. He knows how insecure Vic has felt, about the kind of mother she's been, her shortcomings, her fear about not being good for him, not able to love him like she should, provide for him, and Charlie exploits that to profound perfection. "You won't be able to ride away from your Beautiful Boy. He'll call you, sometimes, from Christmasland, and you will see...... He's BETTER with me!!!"

But the thing that shook me the most, was the bleeding truth of his words as he told her, "That's what you do, Victoria, you run. Even from the things that you LOVE!" WOW Charlie....... the depth, the piercing insight in that quote still gives me chills like mad, and it's a searing revelation. I also marveled at Charlie's outright admission of having been in love with Vic, which I'd always suspected, especially after Parnassus, but he's never just come out and said it, and definitely not to her face. "It's a dangerous game...... endeavoring to love Vic McQueen, I found that out myself with Craig, after you set us both on FIRE." I love how he snuck that in there, how he makes Craig and himself out to be HER victims, and I think Charlie's relationship status with Vic will always be, "It's Complicated," because while she holds a special fascination for him, most of her allure lies in the challenge. What he loves is the most about Vic is hating her. Hell hath no fury like Charlie Manx scorned.

You know what else, was just....... a THRILLING chill!? After giving her a good and proper thrashing, and tongue-lashing, Charlie's voice is a spiteful growl as he rasps furious, "Just say THANKS!!!" I could NOT breathe!! WOW........ What SPLENDID writing!!! It's not enough for Vic to lie there, and take her punishment, the punishment that in Charlie's eyes she so obviously deserves, but he demands her thanks as well, for taking her only child, reprimanding her wicked, wanton ways, sparing her from having to be a bad mother. "If you had a grateful bone in your body, you'd thank me......" Charlie has always seen himself as the hero of NOS4A2, saving children from their broken homes, and lonely lives, and if you told him point blank he was actually the villain, the antagonist, he'd scoff in your face. This idea that he's being generous, actually helping Vic, even as he enacts his ultimate revenge speaks volumes to that, and I loved it. He even tells her young son, with such soothe, "Don't worry........ She can never hurt you again."

That being said, I also loved how Vic fearlessly turned the tables on our handsome phantom, dropping the pretense of excruciating pain to strike hard, breaking Charlie's leg, and leaving a nasty gash across his lovely cheek, before reigning down hell on the Wraith. This was especially jaw-dropping for me, since I had written a scene eerily similar, over a YEAR ago, in my NOS4A2 Series, and it was such a giddy, breathless joy, to see it all play out, exactly as I had imagined it!!! I loved how Vic gives Charlie his insisted upon thank you, after making her move, even though, yes, I was a little heartsick, seeing that impossibly perfect face so drastically marred. The warm, happy, fuzzy feel of Wayne's childhood memories, interspersed with the impassioned violence was yet another INSPIRED, and poignant stroke of brilliance, and in my opinion made the scene even more powerful and intense. It also inspired a fascinating theory....... That Wayne is a Strong Creative, that can speak through his memories telepathically to his mother. There are several instances in, "Bruce Wayne McQueen," where our adorable title character floods his mother's mind with happier times, and words of wisdom. Yes, Vic is a powerful Creative, and this could very well be her own doing, but as she's never been one for sentiment before, something tells me Wayne is speaking to her, calming her down, keeping her safe.

This episode is a masterwork of action and suspense, a transformative audience EXPERIENCE. You're in the Wraith with Charlie and Wayne, sitting on the edge of the backseat, you're treading water, traumatized with Vic, as the bullets whizz past you under the surface, flinching with every shot Bing fires, and you're pressed up against the window with Wayne, hands on the glass, as his mother sobs her devastated goodbye, promising to find him, her stricken eyes so full of love, knowing she has to leave him, if ever she'll have the chance to fight again. It's so beautifully executed, every shot, drawing us into our creative heroes' journey with immersive cinematography. It's unique to any other episode that has come before, and stands out as a groundbreaking method of emotional storytelling.

I must say this though....... This episode was as close to achingly perfect as you can get, right up there with Sleigh House, a MAGIC that I never EVER thought anything in my natural life could touch, but as much enamour as I feel, there were a few slightly detracting flaws. I absolutely LOVED the shifts between different points of view, it may be an unpopular opinion, but I thought that was another daring risk, that definitely paid off. My issue however, lies in the repeated events from one person's point of view to the next. I felt that the needless repetition slowed down the breakneck action, throwing a kink in the timeline. There were more than a few times where I was like WAIT, did that happen before or after what we've just seen!? I appreciate that they were trying to give us a new vantage point to what we'd just witnessed, maybe even belabor the moment for dramatic effect, but it ate up valuable runtime, and undercut the flow in my opinion, as well as shortchanged the suspense, knowing full well what was going to happen, because we'd already seen it from another character's point of view! How much better to show a scene from one perspective, and then jump right into the consequent action with the change to the next? How much MORE would we have gotten to see!?!? Had they done that, then this episode would have surpassed even Sleigh House, my ultimate ideal.

Don't get me wrong, I did enjoy getting to see what happened in the car with the boys, during Vic's ride through the woods. I LOVED how Charlie, ever the paternal guardian, was so taxed by Wayne's vehement cries, and frantic banging on the windows, that he says, in true exhausted parent fashion, "Please Wayne, just a small nap......" There were times that the rewind worked, but most times, I just wanted to get on with the story. Another grievance....... What the HELL are the Wraith's windows made of!? Yes, I understand that this is a supernatural, sentient car, but SERIOUSLY!!!! No amount of force, be it from a swung wrench, or slammed autopsy hammer, or SPEEDING bullet, could shatter even one of the Wraith's windows. Yes, I know it added to the suspense, watching both parents try desperately, and still fail to free their son, but it detracted from the reality, suspending my suspension of disbelief. They should have been able to at least break ONE!!!

I was also a tad bit disappointed with The Hour Glass Man, how about you guys? The way Abe set him up to be this heavy hitter, this "Fixer," in the Dark Creative World, I was so excited to see his knife and how it worked!!! At the beginning of the episode, our calm, sharply-dressed secondary villain, uses an hour glass, not to stop time, not to rewind time, not to alter time, but....... to hypnotize the two feds long enough to assault the lake house, SHOOTING Chris McQueen in the leg, before turning the gun on themselves. Yes, it was only our first look, and I'm sure our man of unsolved mystery has more than a few tricks up his ironed sleeves, he isn't in high demand for nothing, but....... as he was supposed to be Charlie's ace in the hole, I had prepared myself for something truly mind-boggling, something more than just compulsion, an everyday occurrence on The Vampire Diaries. Even in his second go at Vic, he pulls a Manx, and just hits her with his far less supernatural SUV. I knew something was up, the way Charlie didn't veer, and try to run Vic off the road as she pursued him on her new motorcycle, firing shots into the driver side window. He let her ride alongside him, so calm, and I KNEW he was leading her into a trap, and leading me straight into my second disappointment with The Hour Glass Man. I don't know, even though it got the job done, and landed her in the hospital, him hitting her with the SUV just felt....... underwhelming, which this episode is definitely NOT.

The hidden hero of "Bruce Wayne McQueen," is by far Chris Freaking McQueen, who has redeemed himself in my eyes through his fearless fight, both to stay sober for his daughter, and to keep her from losing her son. Not gonna lie guys, I was HORRIFIED, when I thought the Feds killed him at the beginning of the episode, and for the longest time after he got shot I was like DON'T you dare FREAKING kill Chris, oh god, is Chris dead!? A question to which there is no answer until nearly the end of the episode. Vic, still treading water underneath the dock, shakes violently as she hears the gunshots go off a little too close, and I, myself, was scared as HELL, thinking Bing was firing straight down, having discovered her. A horrible moment, as the blood falls thick from between the wooden slats of the dock, directly onto Vic's forehead. And then....... Chris Freaking McQueen, like a gun wielding white knight charges the sick BASTARD, Bing Partridge, shooting him repeatedly, although, to our collective chagrin, does not kill him!!! Seriously. Somebody gut that Creepster Pervert like a fish!!! Chris even takes on Charlie all by himself, firing at the Wraith, as it speeds off to my complete and utter delight WITHOUT Bing Partridge leaving him behind, FINALLY!!! You GO, Charlie, time to sever ties with that obnoxious deadweight.

Where this episode uncovers Charlie in his most heightened, dangerous state, raw and intense, Bing is portrayed at his detestable WORST, and my hatred for this hulking henchman was infinite. I HATE the way he is with Wayne, it literally made me sick to my stomach. Charlie is so sweet and gentle, paternal, and patient with our dear little Bats, doting upon him, and you can tell how excited he is to be his father, how this particular child, Vic's only son, is the second most important entry into Christmasland, after his own daughter. I'm still dyyyying from the way he said, "You and I have been dreaming about each other, haven't we?" How PRECIOUS!!! In counterpart, Bing is disgustingly abusive, grabbing him up off the ground, dangling him by his arm, threatening to shoot him, bite him, calling Wayne a, "pretty girl," (GOD, YOU SICKO!!!!) and I just couldn't stand it, I was so damn furious, I couldn't see straight, and I'm DONE with Bing, I want to put a hit out on that lewd, child abusing, BASTARD!!! It would seem Charlie is done with him too, leaving him behind to die, and I especially enjoyed that cleverly veiled threat in the car, Bing droning on and on about what he wants to do when he gets to Christmasland, and Charlie smirking with a coy mention of a special feast. Yeah...... I see what you did there, Babe. It's time to hang a Partridge, swinging from a pear tree.

Another thing I particularly loved about this episode, was that it had the unique symmetry of beginning and ending in the hospital, and in both instances, Wayne's birth, and the aftermath of his abduction, Vic loses him. Even as a newborn, after a harrowing C-section, Vic knows something is wrong, crying out to the nurses, as they do CPR on the tender little babe, and after only just bringing him into the world, Vic already has to face the threat of one without him. That was beautifully mirrored in the final, heartbreaking scene, when Vic, seeing her boyfriend, and father in hospital beds from her own, but no Wayne, realizes, with abject terror, her son is gone. Her worst fear, the ONE man she'd fought for eight years to protect him from, has taken him. BEAUTIFUL, heart-wrenching, devastatingly good acting from Ashleigh, the desolate sobs, as her mother holds her in her arms, the hopelessness, and fear in her eyes. It shattered me.

An all time high for NOS4A2, "Bruce Wayne McQueen," holds all the emotional drama, and high risk of a proper Season Finale, and we're only FIVE episodes in!!!! If it's THIS good, this early in the story, I can't even imagine what lays in wait, as the Wraith races away with a very special boy in tow. Hold on, Strong Creatives....... Our WILDEST dreams are about to come true.........

[agentnico]

Top 10 Best Movies of 2019

Disclaimer: I have not seen the films 1917 and Bombshell upon releasing this list, so they have missed out on this list due to that factor. Otherwise, there’s a chance both of them would have been on here.

It’s that time of year again when I decide what were some of the greatest films that graced us on the big screen (or small screen in light of Netflix’s ever-growing presence). 2019 was not a bad year for movies, though it’s interesting to note that the highest score I gave to a film this year is an 8/10, not higher. Maybe that’s a detriment to 2019′s film quality, or more so to me becoming more stricter with my opinion. The latter is more likely to be honest since I had problems with Detective Pikachu. I know, how dare I judge that little cute yellow furry Deadpool-sounding Pokemon! Though I am proud to note that this is the most international Top 10 list I’ve ever done, managing to sneak in film picks that weren’t just made in Britain or America. I really branched out this year. Does that make me a professional critic? Probably not, but in feeling I am, and that is what counts. Anyway, without much further ado, here are my favourite films in 2019...

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

Glass

Joker

One Cut of the Dead

The Lighthouse

Zombieland: Double Tap

Burning

Always Be My Maybe

The Peanut Butter Falcon

10) JOHN WICK: CHAPTER 3 - PARABELLUM - 2019 was arguably the year of Keanu Reeves. From his self parodying roles in Toy Story 4 and Always Be My Maybe (easily the best cameo of the year) to announcements of his participation in the upcoming video game Cyberpunk 2077 as well as returning for a third Bill & Ted film, and of course, there’s John Wick 3, a non-stop action romp that gives the Raid movies and Mad Max: Fury Road a run for their money. The weak ending does cause the film to fall short from perfection, but it still makes my Top 10, and deservedly so.

9) AVENGERS: ENDGAME - I hated Infinity War. I said it once and I’ll say it again. So it was much to my dismay that I really enjoyed Endgame. It’s a culmination and celebration of the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe, and though I may have problems with the franchise as a whole, I do respect them for how far they have managed to come.

8) KLAUS - Netflix’s first animated movie is an absolute delight. A callback to a time when films were much simpler, with a truly good message, beautiful animation that blends 3D computer animation with old-school 2D animation and some great humour. A very sincere and well-paced production with an engaging story (for the whole family!) that doesn’t rely upon ironic jokes to tie in the adults, or on the integration of modern technology to hold the kids’ interest (like so many modern animated features do). It just tells a story. Klaus is destined to become a Christmas classic.

7) DEERSKIN - Leave it to the French to provide us with one of the weirdest motion pictures on this list. A tale of a man’s obsession with his coat (a good looking coat no less!) that leads him to some hilariously dark places. In style and theme Deerskin reminds me of another film I really love, The Voices starring Ryan Reynolds, in that it is strange, horrifying, awkwardly funny and overall weird. You’ll either love it or hate it, but Deerskin is certainly worth seeking out.

6) UNION OF SALVATION - Having been displeased with modern Russian cinema as of late, Union of Salvation surprised me to a major extent. A large scale historical study that describes some of the more difficult pages of the history of the Russian Empire. The revolt of the Decembrists in 1825 had to show the emperor that the old rules and laws were no longer able to restrain the empire from collapse, and although the rebellion was suppressed, it became a special precedent that brought the country under global historical changes. Crisply filmed, and directed in a way that leaves it to the audience to interpret who was right and who was wrong, this is a historical epic that leaves an impact.

5) KNIVES OUT - “I suspect foul play.” I will forever be grateful to Knives Out for gifting us Daniel Craig with a Southern accent, something I never thought I wanted but now that we have it, I would not want it any other way. Director Rian Johnson has crafted a truly original whodunnit, that mixes classic elements of the murder mystery genre whilst adding an interesting modern spin to it. Also, talk about a star-studded cast (with a stand out performance from Ana de Armas)! I hear a sequel is already in the works, and I say bring it on!

4) ONCE UPON A TIME IN HOLLYWOOD - Quentin Tarantino’s love letter to old school Hollywood is a visual and narrative feast, pairing Hollywood legends Leonardo DiCaprio and Brad Pitt as they traverse the colorful streets of Los Angeles in 1969. Tarantino was already one of my favourite film directors, and here he fully displays why he’s a true artist of his genre (that’s right, the man has his own genre!). I might disagree with the movie’s ending, but the rest of the film is such a fascinating experience and easily one of the most memorable films to come out of 2019.

3) MARRIAGE STORY - Such a depressing movie. Yet such a great depressing movie. Adam Driver and Scarlett Johansson give career-best performances as a couple going through a divorce, and the way the movie is grounded in realism makes the whole thing a painful experience to go through, however one worth taking. Marriage Story is depressing, yes, but also truly incredible.

2) PAIN AND GLORY - The French give us the weirdest film of the year and leave it to the Spanish to give us the most personal one. Director Pedro Almodovar semi-autobiographical film takes a close look at how one deals with acceptance, being forgotten, symptoms of depression and generally all fairly negative attributes, but delivered in such an honest and profound way that there is a strange lightness that emerges from it all. Antonio Banderas is uncannily vulnerable in the lead role, delivering such an earnest performance that shows a man that is filled with melancholic regret who seeks his own form of redemption.

1) PARASITE - The winner of the Palme d’Or (the main prize at the 2019 Cannes Film Festival) is also the winner amongst my favourite films of the year, not that those two are comparable. In any case, Parasite is easily the most original and surprising piece of film-making that I discovered this year, managing to subvert expectations and blend together so many different genres so naturally. To spoil any narrative element of this movie would be a sin, like this one in particular works best when not knowing anything about it. That’s how I watched it, and now it’s my number 1 film of 2019. 

And now also for my No 1 WORST film of the year, which goes to...

WORST FILM OF 2019 - CATS. Obviously. What else did you think I was going to say? When I saw it I thought it was poop, and to this moment all I see is poop. Cats is poop. The end.

[marshmallowprotection]

Hi! So, I’m gonna answer this under a Read More due to the content. Don’t click this if you’re not 18+, okay? This is NSFW. 18+ only. Thanks! 

I’ll do a Lila and Sae separately if you want. 

Poly Trio! 

Their dynamic is a lot more fluid than it is strictly-group based. 

Now, the first time, and quite possibly the second and third times were very much an involved situation that involved Saeyoung, Minji, and Judas.. It just didn’t feel right for one to have intercourse with another, without their other partner there with them at the time. So much of their feelings were so intertwined so tightly, and it’s important for them as a throuple to be together. That isn’t always the case, though. 

With those circumstances, it was always escalating, so to speak. Judas was the one to make the first move back then. He can read people very easily. So, when during that first night that they’re together in the cabin, he and Saeyoung were talking and they just kept getting closer and closer until there was no space left between them. Judas yanked him into a kiss and it got rather heated fast, but Saeyoung was nervous about taking things too far with one of them, without the other. 

Judas gave him some space, but whispered some rather… juicy and tempting comments about what he should do to Minji if he was concerned about leaving her out of the fun. That got the steam going in the redhead’s mind, and he wound up acting on those impulses and getting pretty deep into the second base with her in a matter of minutes. 

Judas doesn’t let them know he’s watching until they briefly separate, but boy, when Saeyoung tells him to hop right in, he throws himself on that bed. He is very much a catalyst. Out of all of them, he has the most natural experience. Saeyoung has some but most of that isn’t stuff that he’s done, just things he’s come across online. 

He’s the one whispering into Saeyoung’s ear what they should do to Minji, what he should do to Judas, and what Judas can do for the both of them. Saeyoung is sadistic and masochistic, quite honestly, so he takes some of those ideas to heart, along with those ideas that he’s been unable to stop thinking about since he kissed them. 

Minji isn’t very experienced. She’s comfortable with her body and knows what she likes but she’s never really had a lot of chances to be with others. So, she shyly allows Judas and Saeyoung to set the pace those first few times. Her cheeks were flush, her golden eyes bright with need, all the while Judas tells Saeyoung what to do. 

“Touch her there… touch her here… that’s it… look at her beautiful face, can’t you see the way that you make her come undone? Oh, darling, you’re gorgeous… and look at you, Saeyoung… don’t think I can’t see you. You’re straining against your pants. Does this excitement? Seeing Minji come undone?” 

Saeyoung, who normally gets flustered over compliments, finds a unbridled sense of pride and confidence at times like this. He agrees with Judas, “He’s right, Minji. You’re beautiful… don’t hide your voice, please…” 

It’s a relentless barrage. 

Judas is content to let his partners pleasure each other before anyone attends to him. He coaxes and praises as the both of them rut against each other. He’s a heavy praise talker. He knows how to take the lead when he needs to, and with Saeyoung and Minji, he relishes the chance to tell them how beautiful he thinks they are. 

He’s kindly rewarded for his “kindness”, he’s treated to his own pampering. When Saeyoung flips the switch on him, Judas feeds into his own masochism since Saeyoung wants to treat him special too, so, he gets to watch the way that Judas’ cheeks turn flush and how demure he can become when Minji rides his face and he’s filled to the brim with Saeyoung’s cock.

These three are pretty guilty of pampering each other when they’re all together. They cycle through the motions. It's kind of sweet, honestly. Nobody is left out. 

Judas is a power bottom, though, you’re not entirely wrong. He likes to have control of the situation but at the same time, he doesn’t want to expend too much of his own energy. He can be a bit of a tyrant, ordering people around with a wicked sense of glee. It’s just a game that he plays and he feeds off the affection that is given to him. He likes to push people’s buttons but with the right sadist, he can be driven into the corner. 

He’s a people pleaser and he’ll do anything you ask of him. He likes the pain. So, Saeyoung gets to tell him what to do and he’ll do it, be it sucking cock, or eating Minji out. I say he and Saeyoung have the star for being kinkiest. Minji is rather vanilla. But, she’s been dancing outside of her comfort zone more and more with these two boys. 

When it’s just her and Saeyoung, it can either be really gentle and romantic, or it can burn into something a lot more pointed. It just depends. He likes to see her limits and she’s a big fan of biting. He likes to mark her up and she likes the feeling of how pleased he looks when Judas whistles and praises him for doing a good job. He does what she wants. 

Once Minji and Judas get into a comfortable rhythm, she tends to push him around more. She takes cues from Saeyoung as she’s been learning. She’s normally on top of him, riding him, watching him come undone while he praises her like the goddess she is. It’s amazing once Minji gets confident, but before that, he smothers her in kisses much like Saeyoung does. 

Judas and Saeyoung can be really... intense. Judas is a bratty boy when Saeyoung gets into a sadistic spot. He’ll taunt him if he can’t get him off fast enough and he’ll tease him if he loses focus. Saeyoung likes to push him to his limits with what he can handle. Judas likes to mouth off so he gets more punishments in the process. There’s a lot of hair pulling, spanking, you name it, my dude. 

I’d say that they have a healthy sex life but nobody is having more or less sex, honestly. I think Minji and Judas are both guilty of trying to spoil Saeyoung though, because when they team up to put him on the bottom, oh boy, that redhead is a puddle and a mess. Minji covers him in kisses. Judas praises his body. They uses action and word to destroy him. 

They have a rotating system, honestly. My brain is a little scattered right now but these are some of the notes that I’ve put together when I’ve started writing about them. I might make a NSFW fic for them, and I haven’t even finished the one that I was writing for Saeran and Lila. 

[coldflasher]

Part of Femslash Week, organised by @flarrowverse-shipyard​ :D Femslash Week Day One: College AU Pairing: Nora West-Allen/Joslyn Jackam Rating: General Audiences TWs: Mentions of sex and alcohol

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22978678

Life of The Party by coldflasher (capriciouslouis on ao3)

“Is this really all that you’re afraid of?” Joss said. “You’re scared to go to a college party because you’ve never been kissed?”

Nora nodded.

“I can fix that,” Joss said. “If you want.”

It’s Nora’s first day of college and her new roommate wants her to come to a party. Unfortunately, there are a lot of things standing in her way, and the biggest one? She’s never been kissed.

Nora sat on the bed in her new dorm room, boxes still strewn across the floor from where she hadn’t finished unpacking, and messed with the gold chain on her watch as her new roommate put the finishing touches to her make-up. She’d already done Nora’s, taking over immediately when she saw the sorry state of Nora’s make-up bag with its single tube of mascara, solitary eyeshadow palette and three neutral lip colours, turning her head this way and that with light touches to her chin as she turned her into a stranger. Looking at her new face, Nora saw someone almost unrecognisable looking back at her and wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” she said.

“Of course it’s a good idea,” said Joss. “I came up with it.”

She went back to blending out her contour. Nora watched their reflections in the mirror at the dresser, chewing on her lower lip.

Before leaving home, she’d asked everyone she knew for their advice about surviving the college experience. The responses she’d gotten varied in usefulness. Caitlin told her to eat well and study hard. Cisco told her to always keep Advil for hangovers. Papa Joe told her to be good and stay off the booze. Ralph gave her a knowing look and a huge heap of loose papers labelled ‘The Book of Ralph Mark 2: Ralphie’s Guide to Kicking College’s Ass. (She’d thrown that one in the trash before she left; she didn’t like the look of the stains on it.)

The best advice she’d gotten, as always, was from her parents.

“Make the most of it,” her mom told her while her dad nodded sagely from the doorway. “You only go to college once. Try new experiences – and don’t think too hard.” She tapped playfully on Nora’s forehead. “You think too much, XS. Just go with the flow.”

So that’s what she’d decided to do. Go with the flow. And apparently the flow wanted her to go to a frat party with her super-cool new roommate, a budding meteorologist with eyeliner sharp as a knife and a wicked smile that made Nora’s heart flutter. Nope. No crushing on the roommate. They would be living together for the rest of the year and she didn’t need that kind of stress in her life.

Unfortunately, her heart didn’t seem to have gotten the memo.

“It’ll be fun,” Joss said. “This is what college is all about.”

“It’s supposed to be about learning.”

Joss rolled her eyes. “Then maybe you should be learning how to have a good time.”

Nora looked down at her feet. She’d tried, but when your brain moved as fast as hers did it was hard to stop yourself from envisioning the worst-case scenario.

“Anyone would think you’d never been to a party before,” Joss said, laying down her brush and turning her face this way and that to check if the contour was even.

“Of course I’ve been to a party before,” Nora said. “I just haven’t been to a college party before.”

She’d been to a few high school parties with her best friend Lia, but they’d all been sort of lame. They’d hovered in the background clutching red solo cups and watching everyone else get progressively drunker while music thudded in the background and Nora felt herself fading away. Parties had never been fun for her – they’d just made her feel invisible, like a chameleon standing there under the strobe lights.

“A party’s a party,” Joss said, standing up and tugging her dress down. It was black and sequined, the light shining off it every time she moved. Tousling her hair, she gave herself a satisfied smile in the mirror before turning her back on herself and perching on the edge of the dresser.

“Maybe you should go without me,” said Nora. She’d stay safely tucked up in bed with her Nintendo Switch while everyone else drank cheap vodka out of Listerine bottles or whatever other tricks the internet had taught them to avoid the intervention of the RAs, and when Joss tumbled in at four in the morning she’d pretend she was asleep and not lying awake thinking of what kind of college experience she could’ve had if she was someone – anyone – else.

“Not a chance,” said Joss. “Come on, what are you so afraid of?”

Nora folded her arms. “I’m not afraid,” she said defensively. “I’m just not a party person.”

“That’s the best part,” Joss said, sliding off the desk and heading over to her. “You are now. This is college; nobody knows you. You can be whoever you want.”

They both looked at their reflections: Joss, all lithe limbs and sharp smiles, confident and dazzling in her black dress; Nora beside her feeling like the ugly duckling. She’d done her make-up and put on a playsuit and still felt like a fraud – and a head shorter than Joss even in wedges.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” asked Joss.

“A whole bunch of things. I could get drunk and end up in the hospital.”

“So don’t drink,” Joss shrugged. “Or do. I’ll take care of you.”

Nora’s heart gave another little squeeze at that. “I could do something embarrassing and get caught on camera so that the whole university finds out.”

“Deeply unlikely.”

She reached into the bottomless pit of her fears and threw out another. “Some stranger could come over and hit on me.”

Joss threw back her head and laughed, silver bangles clinking on her wrists with a sound like handcuffs. “You’re scared of someone flirting with you? What’s so bad about that? If you don’t like them, you say no. If they won’t take no for an answer… pepper-spray.”

“I’m not worried about what happens if I don’t like them,” said Nora. “I’m worried about what happens if I do.”

Joss’ forehead wrinkled in confusion.

Twisting her fingers together, Nora said, “What if they try to kiss me?”

“I feel like I’m missing something here.”

“I’ve never been kissed before, okay?”

It was one of her most private secrets, one she’d only ever talked to her mom about. A few weeks before leaving for college she’d ended up with her head in her mom’s lap, crying, because what kind of loser went to college without being kissed? Her classmates were afraid to show up on campus with their virginities still intact whilst Nora hadn’t even made it to first base. Iris stroked her hair and said all the right things, told her that everyone moved at their own pace and she wouldn’t be the only one, and recounted the story of her own terrible first kiss to make Nora laugh, and she’d felt better at the time – but now she felt ashamed all over again. There was no way Joss hadn’t been kissed; she oozed charisma. Every move was so confident and self-assured. She probably wasn’t a virgin either, though Nora blushed even thinking about that.

She had half expected Joss to make fun of her, but instead her expression softened. Sitting on her bed with a creak, she reached for Nora’s hand and pulled her down to sit beside her.

“It’s so embarrassing,” Nora said.

“It’s not embarrassing.”

“It’s not like I never wanted to kiss anyone,” she said, frustrated. “I’d like to kiss lots of people. It’s just that no one’s ever wanted to kiss me back. And I’m scared that when someone does try to kiss me, I’ll be bad at it. Or I’ll freak out and spoil everything.”

“You’re a worrier, huh?” said Joss. She reached out and tucked a loose lock of hair behind Nora’s ear.

“I’m sorry. I’m being ridiculous. You should go to the party and have fun; you don’t have to sit here and listen to my problems.”

“True, but I’m a good listener. Besides, I want you to come with me.”

Joss looked serious all of a sudden, her eyes locked on Nora’s. It made her feel strange and fluttery inside. No one had ever looked at her like that before.

“Is this really all that you’re afraid of?” she said quietly. “You’re scared to go to a college party because you’ve never been kissed?”

Nora nodded.

“I can fix that,” Joss said. “If you want.”

Her gaze flicked down to Nora’s mouth.

Nora’s brain, usually so quick to jump to conclusions, didn’t quite catch on until Joss leaned in. Glacier slow, giving her plenty of opportunities to back off or turn away – but she didn’t want to turn away. Her heart was pounding again, her eyes wide – and as Joss tilted her head, Nora instinctively closed her eyes. She felt the tip of Joss’ cold nose press against her cheek, and then her soft mouth brush against Nora’s. Just the lightest brush of lips together – and then her hand rested on the curve of Nora’s waist and she deepened the kiss, still gentle, coaxing Nora’s mouth to move with hers.

She couldn’t believe it was happening. Her head was spinning like its own solar system, but her mind had gone blank. All she could feel was Joss’ lips against hers, the hand resting on her hip and the other reaching for her hand, threading their fingers together.

It was sweet and soft and romantic. Gentle, a guiding influence that managed not to make her feel overwhelmed or embarrassed by her inexperience. A kiss that lingered.

When they parted, Nora instinctively reached up to touch her lips. They tingled underneath her touch.

Leaning back, Joss said, “Congratulations, Nora West-Allen. You’ve had your first kiss.” A moment’s hesitation. Her confidence slipped just for a second, giving her a glimpse of nervousness as she looked down for a moment and tucked her hair behind her ear. “…Was it okay?”

Nora couldn’t keep the smile off her face. It must have been infectious, because seconds later Joss had a matching grin.

“It was perfect,” she said.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: The Sanderson Sisters

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

Ah, Hocus Pocus, everyone’s favorite campy Halloween cult classic. Objectively speaking, the movie is probably no better than a made-for-TV cheesy 90s Disney movie – and funnily enough, this film’s director would go on to make plenty more of those, seeing as he would do the High School Musical movies and The Descendants – as it has all the hokey writing, late 80s/early 90s cliches you’d expect, and some truly boring main characters.

But, thankfully, it has three of the most charismatic women you could imagine camping it up and firmly cementing their status as Halloween icons for all time: The Sanderson sisters, Winifred, Sarah, and Mary. These three are the reason this movie is held so near and dear to people’s hearts, and frankly, without them this movie would just plain suck. With them, it still sucks, but in a fun way, elevating it beyond “so bad it’s good” and into the realm of endearing camp alongside such masterpieces as Venom.

But enough of all this; just like when you’re watching the movie, you’re here for the girls, so let’s talk about them.

Actor: The leader of the bunch is Winifred, and she is played by Bette Midler. Bette Midler has called this her favorite role ever, and seeing how she acts in this, it really shows. A running theme with these three is that they just absolutely ham it up, and Bette Midler goes above and beyond with Winifred – she’s not just a ham, she’s the whole damn hog. In fact, in a lot of ways, she hogs the spotlight, what with her hamminess being so magnetic and the fact that she is clearly the brains of the operation. But that’s not to say the others are bad.

Sarah Jessica Parker plays… Sarah. Funny how that worked out. She is the hot and dumb one, and boy oh boy does she play that role to perfection, though of course she does manage to be creepy and sinister when the scene calls for it – that song of hers has become iconic for a reason.

Finally we come to Mary, played by none other than Peggy Hill herself, Kathy Najimy. Najimy does a great job, she plays her role well, but out of the three I feel like she has the most trouble standing out. Which isn’t to say she’s bad, far from it – she doesn’t have the bombastic personality of Winifred nor the complete ditziness of Sarah.

Here’s the thing, though: if any of these three weren’t here, or weren’t portrayed by these specific actresses, they’d fall apart, the movie would fall apart, game over man, game over! The film only works because these three have such great chemistry, such great interactions, and such great weirdness to them that if even one of them were gone or they just weren’t in synch, things would be a lot less fun.

Motivation/Goals: Like most evil witches in fiction, these three want children, specifically so that they can drain their vitality with a magic potion so that they can be young and powerful forever. This gets them hanged 300 years before the main story starts, and when they come back, they reuse this goal with a bit more urgency: they now need to drain the vitality from children before the sun rises and turns them to dust, as their resurrection is set to only last a single night otherwise. Frankly, the fact that their goal is killing and sucking the life out of children is the only thing that’s keeping the audience from rooting for them, because the actual protagonists of this film are so unremarkable and cliché that it’s pretty hard to want to see them stop the funny and charismatic witches,

Personality: Winifred is clearly the one who got all the brains, which makes sense as she is the leader. She’s a lot quicker on the uptake and realizes things more quickly than her ditzier sisters, as well as a lot more proactive and pragmatic in general. She does the spellcasting, she brews the potions, she just inhabits the role of leader naturally. It helps that of the three she has the most outwardly intimidating presence.

Mary is the middle child, and her personality is somewhere between the two sisters: she’s ditzy, but not to Sarah’s level, and she’s got some common sense and wits, but definitely not on Winifred’s level. This is kind of why I said she has a hard time sticking out personality-wise before, as she’s the epitome of the awkward middle child. However, she does excel at her role as a predatory child tracker, able to sniff out their victims with ease. It’s also implied, but not outright stated, that she’s a much bigger eater than her sisters; she is noticeably chunkier than the others, after all. And considering their diet… it’s definitely not a good idea to undersell that Mary is definitely a wicked witch.

Then we come to Sarah, who is an absolute ditz and the epitome of a dumb blonde… and yet, she is also one of the most dangerous, as she has a sort of siren-like power to draw children to her with her singing. In fact, while she does come off as a ditzy goofball for the most part, her interactions with children paint a rather… uncomfortable picture, one that reveals her true nature.

I think it’s worth noting that despite how ditzy both Mary and Sarah are, both of them also have the common sense to point out to Winifred that, when Sarah has called numerous children to their house, they really don’t need to bother with the protagonists anymore. In this moment, Winifred decides to reject common sense and go after them because one of the heroes called her ugly. It sort of highlights just how petty and irrational Winifred can be, and how despite her disdain for her sisters, she’s really not so different from them in the end. It’s also worth noting that Mary and Sarah, while clearly evil due to their association with Winifred, are actually pretty nice and mostly harmless otherwise, to the point where you could make a case that without Winifred around, they’d probably not be villains at all.

But if that were the case, we wouldn’t have a movie, and then we wouldn’t be here, huh?

Final Fate: Of course these three fail to suck out any vitality by sunrise, with Winifred’s stupid little vendetta damning her and her sisters. The rays of the sun turn Winifred to a statue and cause Sarah and Mary to explode, with Mary even getting a moment to wave goodbye in resigned sadness as she bursts into a dust cloud. After her sisters are gone, Winifred’s statue explodes spectacularly.

Best Scene: I don’t think there’s really anything that comes close to the sister’s spellbinding performance of “I Put a Spell On You,” at least in regards to all three of them together. I mean, if you get a singer like Bette Midler to star as a villain in your movie, why would you not have her sing? Only a complete hack who doesn’t know how to properly utilize actors would waste a singer in a role where they don’t sing.

The thing is, these three are together all the time, so there’s not much room for individual moments for them to shine otherwise… or there wouldn’t be, if they didn’t showcase Sarah’s absolutely terrifying power, leading her number “Come Little Children” to being her standout moment, and the moment that really drives home the incredibly uncomfortable undertones she exudes.

Best Quote: I think Winifred gets the best quote in the whole movie, which occurs when her zombified ex Billy Butcherson (played by Doug Jones, who you may remember for his critically acclaimed role as Mac Tonight in the McDonald’s ads). Billy tells her to go to hell, and she retorts with: “Oh! I've been there, thank you. I found it quite lovely.”

Sarah, of course, has her villain song: “Come little children, I'll take thee away / Into a land of enchantment / Come little children, the times come to play / Here in my garden of magic.”

And, unfortunately, in this regard I think Mary gets the shaft. Despite her definitely being funny and entertaining, she just doesn’t have the same level of standout quotes as her sisters.

Final Thoughts & Score: So as I was writing this, I was thinking of what their score could possibly be. I thought I’d probably have to lower their score, because aside from them, this movie is just corny early 90s cheese… but then I thought, what’s wrong with that? And why should these three suffer a lower score due to the rest of the movie’s failings? That isn’t their fault. Hell, these three are the reason to watch the movie. If anything, the movie’s failings are drowned out by just how charismatic and enjoyable they are to watch.

Much like their fellow child-hating hag the Grand High Witch, the Sanderson sisters are blessed with fun, funny, charismatic actors who aren’t afraid to ham things up and know just what kind of move they’re in and absolutely revel in it. They saw they were playing three stereotypical fairy tale witches and decided to have a blast with it, and in doing so they managed to transform an otherwise corny Disney film into the Halloween legend that this film is. I wouldn’t say these three are particularly deep or complex, but they have a very fun dynamic and add a lot of spice to an otherwise bland plot. Between them and Doug Jones, they give you a lot of reasons to come back and watch this film over and over.

Obviously, these three are getting a 9/10, only held back from a perfect score because yes, sometimes the camp can be a bit much, even for me. But I’m just not heterosexual enough to give these three ladies anything lower. I still have to unfortunately say Mary is the weak link here, but it’s only comparatively speaking, and I’d probably bump these three down to a 7 if she wasn’t here. I really can’t stress enough that there dynamic is so utterly important that even one of them not being there would spoil things. They just don’t make evil trios like this anymore.

[inthepantheon]

The Plot Thickens, Part I

I awoke slowly to the smell of fresh coffee brewing in my kitchen and the sound of someone cooking. It smelled delicious, but who the hell was in my house? I really didn’t want to shoot someone before getting my morning mug of coffee. Perhaps I could multitask and do both? I wouldn’t want to spill my coffee...or clean up a body. A goddess must have priorities. The morning light was bright and cheerful. Why hadn’t I closed my blackout curtains?  I went for my .45mm Taurus that I kept behind my headboard. Why the hell am I naked? Memories of the night before came flooding in and caused an involuntary smile. I released my gun and let it remain in its holster. It would probably be rude to shoot the man that I had thoroughly enjoyed a night of passion with. Besides, I am hoping to repeat the experience.  I stretched and let out a yawn. I was very well satisfied, but after a night like that, I needed a shower. The sheet fell to the floor as I stood, and I walked naked to the master bath. The morning light illuminated both my bedroom and the bathroom. For the first time in a very long time, I did not loathe the morning for being so…well...morning. I let out a small laugh, and turned on the shower, waiting for the water to warm up. Honestly, grinning like an idiot, standing naked in my bathroom, all I could think was that I could get used to this. Strong arms wrapped around my waist as I was about to step beneath the water. “Mind if I join you?” He was already naked, and I liked that he wasn’t ashamed of last night. The knowledge of his vulnerability made the memories even better. He trailed kisses along my neck. “Only if you keep doing that,” I murmured, closing my eyes and enjoying the sensation. Small chills of anticipation ran down my spine. I led him into my oversized shower, and I turned towards him to meet his kiss.. The throes of passion swept over us, carrying us along until we were both sated.   I leaned against the tiled wall, languid and boneless in the glow of satisfaction. Renard picked up my body wash, lathering it in my loofa. Gently, he turned me around and gathered my hair over my shoulder to wash my back. He took his time before he turned me back around and started washing the front of me.  “I can bathe myself, you know,” I said breathlessly. “Hush, woman, and let me touch you,” he said with a wicked smirk. I did as he said, convinced this was the cleanest a goddess had ever been. The thought made me smile. Seeing it, he leaned in and kissed me, and I took the loofa, returning the favor. It was soft, thorough, and sensual as we explored each other’s bodies.  “We’re going to run out of hot water if you keep kissing me like that,” he said with his lips still pressed to mine. I agreed, half protesting.  “I could use some food. You have worked up quite an appetite in me,” I teased as we exited the shower. “I guess it’s a good thing that I made you breakfast. I put it in the warmer when I heard you turn on the shower.”  We dried off and went into my kitchen, our modesty only covered by our towels.  “Why don’t you sit. I’ll get you coffee and breakfast. How do you take your coffee?” he asked. “Are you trying to spoil me?” I asked, teasing him. “As long as you will let me,” he replied with his dazzling smile. That smile could melt an iceberg.   “Cream and sugar.”  “Coming right up, my lady.” He gave a little bow, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Damn right and don’t you ever forget it,” I said with a grin. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He made us coffee and filled our plates with omelets, bacon, sausage, and toast. All he was missing were the pancakes, and we would have a buffet.  “Thank you,” I said as he set the coffee and food before me. “Anytime.” We ate our breakfast and made small talk. For the first time in a long time, I enjoyed a mortal’s company without care. How did he make me feel so relaxed and at ease? The ringing of his phone broke my thoughts. Renard picked it up and grimaced. Great. Watch him be married, and it’s the wife calling. Honestly, that’s my luck with relationships. There is a reason that I was still single after all these millennia.  “Renard,” he answered. The greeting was short and told me it wasn’t a spouse calling. “Okay, text me the address, and I’ll be right there. No, I’ll let Athena know.” He disconnected and put the phone aside. “Leave it to the criminals to put a damper on a perfect morning. We have a case.” “Well, shit. I guess we need to get dressed then. Probably shouldn’t show up to a crime scene in just our towels.” We shared naughty grins. “I’ll leave the address and meet you there. I need to run home and change.” He got up and walked over to the clothes we’d discarded last night. I knew that I should get moving too, but right then, I was enjoying the view. I watched him get dressed, and when he turned around, he caught me staring. He gave me his dazzling smile as he walked over and kissed me. It was a sweet but short kiss. I was thankful because if it were anything more, we would both be terribly late for work. He wrote the address down on the notepad on my table. “I’ll see you there.” “Yes, you will.” We said our goodbyes, and he left. I finished my coffee and went back to my bedroom. The sight of my messy bed brought another smile. After a moment of standing there like an idiot, I went to my closet. Choosing a jet-black pants suit with thin pink pinstripes and a matching pink button-up shirt, I dressed quickly. I put my shoulder rig on and put my gun in its holster. I finished with my hair, makeup, and shoes, and exited with my matching suit jacket in hand. I needed to get my coffee and get going. I grabbed my favorite travel mug that says Rock, Paper, Scissors, Throat Punch, I Win on it and left. Nothing was going to ruin my day, not even a crime scene. *** I pulled up to the address that Renard left me. It’s not the usual house, abandoned building, or area that I had come to expect for a crime scene. I parked my car. The Police Department, Forensics team, Detectives, EMT’s and the basic cavalry that you would expect were already there. Of course, this morning’s activities had me late to the scene. Having to go back home after realizing that I would need a coat over my suit jacket hadn’t helped my tardiness. It’s the middle of May and a chilly 41 degrees out. I would have to have a talk with Boreas or his daughter Khione about this cold. The winter is their domain, and I was not happy that they were overstaying their welcome. Perhaps Persephone and I would pay them a visit. This was her time to shine, quite literally. I didn’t care for the extended cold or the fact that they were infringing on Seph’s time.  I walked over to the Veteran’s Memorial Bridge, connecting Wrightsville to Columbia. Once upon a time, the bridge was burned down. Of course, that was during the Civil War, one of the many wars that the mortals rage. The bridge was rebuilt and is usually filled with traffic. I’m sure the local population was not happy about having to reroute their travels to the bridge in Harrisburg. It’s going to add a good chunk of time to their commutes. “About time you got here.” I heard the familiar voice of Captain Renard tease me. His dazzling smile was out of place at the crime scene, but I knew why he was so chipper. A good time can do that to you, and we had a great time last night and again this morning.  “Yes, I was detained. Someone decided to give me a late start. Maybe we should talk to him about doing that.” We both laughed. It’s inappropriate, I knew, but we couldn’t help it. It’s the giddy afterglow when nothing could touch you.  “This way.” He motioned for me to follow. I half expected him to lead me onto the bridge since the emergency personnel had it completely barricaded and closed off. I was surprised when he turned and led me below the bridge.  “Going for a secret rendezvous?” I asked jokingly. “I wish. Unfortunately, this is where the body was dumped. I warn you; it is water-logged and looks like it has been here a while.”  Okay, I thought nothing was going to damper my mood. The smell hit me before we got to the body. Renard was right. He had been here at least two weeks. The cold had slowed the decomp time down, but not stopped it.  We walked over to the body and crouched down to take a closer look. I’m going to need to invest in some fashionable work boots that I could easily clean all the blood and muck from crime scenes. Something that would be easier to run in would be nice too. Perhaps a spit-shined form of combat boot? I could make that work.  “Anything?” Renard’s voice brought me back to the matter at hand. I assumed my staring at the body indicated a clue rather than a spaced-out thought.  “Most of the skin is missing, presumably from the fish and birds. He has been here a little while, at least a couple of weeks. The decomp has been slowed down due to the cold, that will help in identifying him. If it were warmer out, the decomp would make that harder. From what is left, I can tell you he is a Caucasian male of a large build.” I put on my rubber gloves and examined the body. “His teeth are intact, so you should be able to get a dental identification on him.” I moved my examination to his body. “Any evidence or indicators of death have been eaten away. You might be able to have forensics clean the bones and look for striations or weapon marks. But…” I noticed something… “I think I know who our vic is, at least I know his connection. Do you remember the case a little while back, with all the blood but no bodies? Only the severed hand in the tub? It was in Harrisburg.”  His face paled. The story had been all over the news. Gruesome stories have a way of sticking with you. No one remembered the little old lady that was mugged or the poor kitty that was lost, but everyone remembered the bloody murder scene. We had found so few clues, and even fewer leads, that everyone started speculating about what had really happened. Then the rumor mill began to circulate, and the stories ran wild. The truth was, this was the first real piece of evidence that we had found. The fingerprints at the scene were not in the database, any of them. All we had was a ton of blood samples from multiple unidentified victims and a severed hand. The case had become cold, and we were forced to move on to more solvable cases. It’s an unfortunate part of the job, but it’s our reality.  “The area around where the hand was severed shows signs of various stages of healing. This suggests that the hand was severed pre-mortem. Has forensics processed the scene?” I knew they had, but it’s polite to ask before disturbing the body...well, what’s left of it.  “Yes, you have the all-clear to examine the body.” Which was his way of saying I could touch.. Since I had the Boss’ approval, I rolled the body on its side. It made a wet, sucking sound as the remaining water-logged skin peeled away from the mud..  “There are no obvious signs of cause of death on the back either. I would say that the body will need to be transported to a lab for further testing.” I grimaced because I didn’t have any real answers for him. I felt like I had wasted their time. The body could have been moved and processed by now, but they were all waiting for me to give them some Godly direction on the scene. I wished I had some for them. “I’m sorry I don’t have more answers.” “It’s okay. We are always thankful that you are willing to lend your expertise in these cases. More often than not, you can catch things way before any of our techs do, and time is often of the essence.” He tried to manage a smile to make me feel better. “Thank you. If you find anything out, I would love to be kept in the loop. Maybe I can be of further assistance.” It was mostly true. I really wanted to be in the loop because kids could be involved, and I had a genuine hatred for those who hurt the innocent. If I couldn’t find the kids and bring them to safety, I at least wanted to make the bastards who hurt them pay. “We will.” “Thank you.” I removed my surgical gloves as I stood to leave.  “Athena…” the Captain said from behind me. I turned to face him. “Athena, would you be available later?”  “Of course. Do you need to go over another case? I can make time…” “Oh, no…. Um…” he interrupted me, so I waited for him to finish. He looked so nervous. It’s cute. Normally he was so confident and authoritative that the vulnerability was endearing as hells. “Would you be available later… for dinner? I...uh...I would like to take you out to dinner.” “Are you always this…adorable when you are asking someone out?” I couldn’t help but smile. I didn’t get asked out as often as you would think. I intimidated most people or they are on the wrong end of my wrath. Either way, I don’t get many invitations to be courted.  “No, but it’s not every day that I ask out a Goddess.” He looked nervous that his honesty would earn him a no on the date. “Yes, dinner sounds nice. Pick me up at 7 and expect to be teased if you bring your big truck.” I winked at him and turned to leave. We both knew that he only drove the huge truck because he liked it and not for compensation reasons. Men and their big toys. I couldn’t stifle my chuckle as I left the scene. I felt like I needed another shower. Read the full article

[windseized]

i’m  feeding  u  this  trash  10  years  late  and  you’re  gonna  appreciate  it  goddamnit.  also  i  don’t  have  photoshop  so  no  cool  graphic  sry

𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞  𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧  𝐚  𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞  …  dorothy  gale  was  known  as  the  resilient  &  inquisitive  farmer  with  a  reputation  for  being  a  natalia  dyer  doppelganger  .   but  now  ,  under  the  stress  of  the  war  on  the  horizon  ,  the  natural  born  hero  human  has  become  widely  known  for  being  rather  wilful  &  restless  .   let’s  see  how  long  the  oz  native  will  last  during  this  war  .   after  all  they’re  only  twenty  years  old  .   +  she/her  &  cis  female  ,  wizard  of  oz  .

hi  i’m  bee  &  i’m  here  to  talk  to  you  about  prairie  gothic

our  story  starts  with  two  sisters,  as  different  as  the  night  and  day.  the  elder,  em,  short  for  emma,  a  plain  name  for  a  plain  girl.  no  frills,  just  the  way  she  liked  it.  and  the  younger,  elizabeth,  beth  for  short.  a  name  sweet  on  the  tongue  and  a  girl  sweet  on  the  eyes.  

when  em  was  working,  beth  was  playing.  when  em  was  getting  married  to  a  respectable  local  farmer,  beth  was  joining  the  travelling  circus.  she  was  prone  to  brief  passions  and  flights  of  fancy,  one  of  whom  had  a  bit  more  of  a  lasting  effect  than  others.

em  had  always  put  up  with  beth’s  wild  ways;  as  solemn  and  cross  as  she  appeared  to  be,  she  still  loved  her  sister.  but  pregnancy  out  of  wedlock  was  not  something  she  condoned  as  an  upright  christian  woman.  

that  was  one  of  the  worst  fights  the  sisters  ever  had.  em  coldly  informed  her  sister  she  was  free  to  ruin  her  life  as  much  as  she  liked,  just  not  to  come  crying  to  her  when  it  all  came  crashing  down.  beth,  three  months  pregnant,  wept  and  furiously  declared  that  she  was  sick  and  tired  of  her  sister’s  judgement;  that  this  was  her  life  and  she’d  do  what  she  liked  with  it.

and  so  the  two  sisters  parted,  and  so  too  did  beth  and  her  unborn  child’s  father.  when  little  dorothy  was  born,  into  a  tiny  house  on  the  kansas  prairie,  she  was  greeted  only  by  her  mother  and  the  town  midwife.

it  was  a  lonely  and  tumultuous  existence,  with  her  mother  finding  odd  jobs  where  she  could  as  a  maid  or  nanny.  beth  made  the  best  of  it  when  she  could,  but  being  a  single  mother  wasn’t  easy,  and  there  were  times  when  her  nerves  (  and  the  kitchen  cupboard  )  wore  bare.

she  could’ve  asked  for  help  from  her  sister,  but  beth  was  proud  through  and  through.  even  when  she  fell  seriously  sick  with  influenza  when  dorothy  was  eight,  she  didn’t  send  a  letter  to  em  until  it  was  too  late.

em  arrived  just  in  time  to  nurse  her  sister  for  a  week,  and  then  she  was  left  with  a  funeral  to  arrange  and  an  eight  year  old  girl  to  raise.

dorothy’s  short  time  with  her  mother  wasn’t  all  hardship  and  heartbreak,  though.  beth  was  flighty,  headstrong,  hopeful;  she  could  make  anything  magic,  turning  the  most  mundane  task  into  an  adventure.  she  filled  dorothy’s  young  mind  with  fancy  and  fairy  stories.

although,  the  one  thing  beth  didn’t  spin  into  a  make  believe  was  dorothy’s  father.  whenever  dorothy  asked  about  her  father,  it  was  always  the  same  old  story:  when  he’d  found  out  beth  was  pregnant,  he’d  up  and  left  them.  aunt  em  told  much  the  same  story,  only  adding  contemptuously  that  she’d  never  liked  him  much  in  the  first  place.  the  only  clue  dorothy  has  to  his  identity  is  a  half-faded  photo  of  her  mother  laughing  with  a  man  atop  a  ramshackle  caravan,  his  face  obscured  in  shadow.

after  beth  died,  aunt  em  took  dorothy  in  and  loved  her  as  if  she  were  her  own  child.  make  no  mistake,  though,  em’s  definition  of  motherly  love  was  vastly  different  than  her  sister’s.  aunt  em  did  not  believe  in  outward  displays  of  affection,  choosing  instead  to  abide  by  the  age  old  adage  spare  the  rod,  spoil  the  child.  she  often  worried  privately  to  uncle  henry  that  the  few  years  dorothy  had  spent  under  the  care  of  beth  may  have  damaged  the  child’s  senses  irretrievably.  

twelve  years  under  aunt  em’s  eagle  eye  hasn’t  cured  dorothy  of  the  imagination  she  inherited  from  her  mother,  but  it  has  instilled  in  her  the  value  of  good  hard  work.  they  have  enough  to  hire  a  handful  of  farmhands,  but  dorothy’s  still  expected  to  help  out  more  often  than  not.  she  tends  the  garden,  milks  the  cows  and  churns  their  milk  into  butter  for  their  bread  with  supper.

most  of  the  time,  dorothy  completes  her  chores  dutifully  and  without  complaint,  if  chattering  excessively  while  doing  so,  but  every  so  often,  she’ll  get  an  idea  in  her  head  that  she  clings  to  with  a  stubbornness  that  rivals  a  mountain’s.  visiting  the  travelling  circus,  for  instance.  or  adopting  toto  –  when  they  discovered  the  scruffy  stray  hiding  out  in  the  barn  with  the  goats,  aunt  em  was  ready  to  drown  the  little  black  dog.  he  was  clearly  the  runt  of  his  litter,  and  would  be  far  too  weak  to  be  of  any  use  around  the  farm.  but  dorothy  furiously  protected  the  pup  until  aunt  em  finally  relented.

she  grows  more  like  her  mother  each  day,  aunt  em  fusses  to  uncle  henry  as  she  watches  dorothy  throw  a  stick  for  toto  to  fetch.  in  looks  and  in  spirit.

dorothy’s  had  the  base  level  of  schooling,  learning  her  letters  and  basic  arithmetic  before  leaving  to  work  on  the  farm.  she  knows  her  aunt  em  would  have  preferred  to  see  her  married  off  and  bearing  children  years  ago,  but  dorothy  is  naturally  independent  and  inquisitive.  she  can’t  help  but  yearn  for  other  worlds,  for  a  future  outside  of  what’s  already  planned  for  her.

appearance:  her  hands  are  calloused  and  her  slim  frame  is  wiry  and  muscled  from  years  of  hard  work,  but  she  still  has  colour  in  her  cheeks  that  the  kansas  plains  haven’t  yet  managed  to  steal.  her  braids  are  constantly  messy  from  the  wind,  and  her  freckled  cheeks  are  more  often  than  not  crinkled  in  laughter.

but  dorothy’s  whole  life  was  turned  upside  down  (  literally  !  )  when  a  twister  ripping  through  the  kansas  plains  wrenched  their  one-room  farmhouse  from  the  ground.  dorothy  was  certain  she  and  toto  would  be  killed,  but  instead,  they  landed  in  a  place  with  more  colour  than  dorothy  had  ever  seen  in  her  life.  oz.

(  for  the  sake  of  this  rp,  dorothy  hasn’t  landed  on  the  wicked  witch  of  the  east  in  case  someone  else  wants  to  play  her  skdlf  )

dorothy  has  never  seen  this  place  in  her  life  —  in  fact,  she’s  still  not  sure  she  isn’t  dreaming  —  but  there’s  something  all  too  familiar  about  it  …

and  anyways  yeah  !  i’d  love  some  plots  for  her  so  hmu  !