#*cue life changing montage*

[thejadecount]

Shoutout to all the other autistics like me who didn’t actually realize they were autistic until Rise Donnie showed up like the absolute king he is

[gabessquishytum]

So I just had a cursed dream (stress (?) Nightmare) that will probably haunt me for days to come and though it would make an excellent Dreamling prompt. (And no, I don't even have a crush on this coworker that featured in my dream. It was wild.)

Dream and Hob work on the same team. They've been slowly growing closer, chatting outside of work, ect. Dream mentions something off-hand in their messages during the work day, like telling Hob some facts about a piece of music or whatever (for me in my dream it had been a workout routine).

Hob types up some long message, confessing his feelings for Dream but doesn't plan on sending it. He scrolls up through the chat and in the process, accidentally hits send.

He's mortified. But then Dream starts typing. And then his message comes through, and it's Dream saying he would be lying if he said he didn't share the sentiment. And they talk in the chat, exchanging some more messages when suddenly there are people replying to the messages that aren't just Dream and Hob.

Well, whoopsies! Turns out what they thought was their normal DM chat with each other was actually a team group chat! So everyone's seen it. Everyone. Including their boss.

Dream's a ball of anxiety about it, worrying about being fired over the non-professionalism of it all. Meanwhile, Hob is just ecstatic that Dream likes him back.

(As some optional Angst/drama, the coworker I apparently confessed to in my dream was married, so maybe in the Dreamling version of this, Dream's married/dating someone (Thessaly? Just because I'd feel bad for Cali) and in his own confession mentions how he is married, he shouldn't feel this way, and yet the prospect of being with Hob has brought him more joy than his current relationship has, possibly ever.)

This is absolutely hilarious omg. If it happened to me in real life I would simply pass away though.

Dream is actively DYING of embarrassment. I like to imagine in this au that both he and Hob are a little older and they are now immediately being bullied by their gen-z colleagues for not realising they were in the group chat. Ha ha, very funny, Dream is totally not having a meltdown and considering quitting his job, changing his name and leaving the country forever. Meanwhile Hob is having a montage from a romcom in which he skips around the house in his pyjamas and flowers bloom wherever he steps.

For the angst factor either Dream IS in a relationship OR he goes into damage control mode and starts saying that it was all a prank and he doesn't like Hob at all, he assumed it would be obvious that someone like him would never lower his standards so far. Cue utter devastation for Hob as all his dreams collapse. He calls in sick to work, locks himself in his house and refuses to take any calls. Dream starts to think that he may have made a terrible mistake as he is shunned in the office and Hob won't even talk to him so he can't explain himself.

FINALLY Death drags Dream’s sorry ass over to Hob’s place and makes him stay there banging on the door until Hob finally answers, bleary eyed, bottom lip quivering. Dream’s carefully curated apology flies out of his brain and he's just clinging to Hob’s sweaty old t-shirt and begging for forgiveness. He's practically sobbing that he does like Hob, he's just stupid and scared and he's not used to things being good. He doesn't expect to get a second chance but he can't bear the idea of Hob being sad.

Fortunately, Hob is a great believer in the healing power of kisses. So he invites Dream inside. And a few hours later, the office groupchat gets a single picture of Hob being cuddled and snuggled by Dream as he deserves. All is right with the world <3

[sweetpastillas]

tom & elliot's role swap video is interesting to me because . what if luther and viktor Did switch some places in s4?

this would likely include [this is an au idea]:

a down-on his-luck luther, shifting through various jobs

in hindsight i just want more depth back for him

in this au, sloane is fully dead via reginald incompletely programming the universe & allison pressing the button early. let's visualize all the flashback montages we should have gotten over their 6 years, and insert in one where he finds her grave.

(this would cut to ben finding this out in a phone call, scowling with a hint of mourning, before turning away to greet more of his crypto buddies)

it says something like "sacrificed her life saving people from the fire of the hotel obsidian [or something heroic]."

he has no picture of her

it's not a timeline where he's fucked up, like the unshaven floorcrying on the moon or s1's furry rave breakdown. he's numb. happy to go to family events, not as stoic as s1, but numb every once in a while

he still picks up ben from prison. hugs him too tight – ben complains once.

he actually squeezes more often in his hugs. death is too real. klaus gets it but still panics for closeness and germs as they meet at the party

viktor, on the other hand, is as neutral as he's always been. happy without his powers, able to take deep breaths dealing with annoying regulars at the bar without rattling all the bottles on his shelves

he's happy to be part of the family – it's not like he has sissy or harlan left. so he answers his calls, sends the niblings pictures of canada wildlife, and is happy to go to every meetup. he's missed only a couple, because distance.

viktor's still the one most pissed about his powers coming back, at least. "i could put us at risk and the end the world again."

it's luther who's even more visibly awkward when allison shows up to grace's 6th. everyone can assume it's because of oblivion, but we the audience can guess it could be about the rumor SA and their complex history

we can take it to the town with keepers and evil santa – viktor and allison could have a different scene, one that acknowledges where they are now

("we've killed each other's children, we've hurt each other, but you asked me to trust you and i did." "i guess i can't ask you to be in my corner then." "show me a good reason to; i know you can" *cue proper alli redemption arc*)

but alli/luther... there's more hurt there because really the show broke their closeness and put a transparent bandaid to pretend it's still there despite s3. they used to be besties with a childhood that turned them into exes and circumstances have changed that into worse

so it's luther who tells her that "we can't be anything else, right now.. i don't think we can even be friends. i'm sorry"

allison and that brilliant thing where emmy raver lampman acts out trying not to cry

take your pick of reasoning – the SA, or he blames her in part along with reg for not programming sloane into the timeline. either because she went with it, or because she pressed the button early

in my au we settle loose ends btw. they talk it out or help each other in battle, as long as they make truce at the end.

we keep the exact scene as from the roleswap video. we also keep the deleted conversation with diego later on.

if we have to actually integrate the cia in any way (bc in this world, five works at an actual deli and spies on the keepers at night) one of them finds various files on them, and sloane too. takes the picture of her to keep it.

i say one of them because a viktor-diego arc would be cool and luther travelling with reg, actually calling the shots better would be interesting.

viktor's the one who both gets an insight into diego's vigilante fighter style, and is also there to let him figure out that change is ok. "the civilian life isnt so bad, here's an anecdote from something i actually liked about being ordinary back in the original s1 timeline."

(have i also said this au is just lila and diego missing the action in their lives but without cheating. they both work 9-5s and are tiredly trying to keep up and this is settled later)

no matter what the picture ends up in luther's hands by the end

it's what luther clutches amidst a proper final battle and ending, hoping to find sloane in the next life

[princessamericachavez]

My thoughts about the Ted Lasso finale (no particular order)

The end montage was obviously Ted’s dream for the future and not even subtly so jot that down

Actually just gonna add that this is the show’s way of telling us the potential these characters have and what Ted wishes for them but without his presence it’s up to them now

Roy mouthing alone to Goodbye, Farewell broke me because he’s clearly the one who put together the choreography

Also Dani singing? My most beloved

Jaime and Roy clashing one last time might have pissed some people off but this was always a rock in their shoe that they needed to address and we see that their relationship can and will survive it

I like Rebecca’s romcom ending even if I wanted her to end with Ted.

Ted going back to his son was necessary and the whole point. He always blamed his father for abandoning them. When he came to Richmond he was all but running away from his family in hopes things would magically fix themselves. Instead, he put in the work and healed. But his biggest triggers were always connected to him missing his son’s life. In the end, Ted’s growth was the point so he could go back to them and be the best version of himself for them and for himself.

Ted not talking while Rebecca rambles was actually perfect. Old bitter Rebecca would’ve never opened up like that. But old Ted would’ve also rushed to reassure her or try to make a joke or cheer her up. This time, Ted lets her speak and then sticks to his guns, even if the truth is uncomfortable for others. He allows himself to do this for himself and not to please others.

Beard staying for Jane was foreseeable given the toxic codependent nature of their relationship. Happy perfect endings don’t exist. His story is still developing.

Furthermore, the real growth came from Beard letting himself choose something regardless of what Ted is doing and breaking himself free from a cycle of guilt and feeling in debt.

I know it was in the dream but god I hope Roy gets therapy. We did see the roots of him wanting to change and be better and accept the help he needs so he’s in the right path.

Keeley/Roy/Jamie is still endgame in my heart. Eventually. Once all three are in the right place.

The himbos singing made me cry. A lot.

Even if it was in the dream, if Jamie actually chose to reconnect to his dad somehow I think it wouldn’t be the end of the world. He would get to do it on his terms and only because he chose to have him in his life to some degree. Which might simply be being civil and talking from time to time, so long as his father keeps putting in the work to better himself and takes steps to make amends and apologize and acknowledge all his wrongs. Who knows. It’s an open ending.

Loved everything about the match.

Glad Van Damme got closure from Rani Dojas and that Dani acknowledged his part in what happened and tried to make amends.

CANT believe they made me feel sorry for George.

The cold open was a tease but I loved to see what could’ve been (and who says Ted and Rebecca didn’t find each other while running away from all that noise and one thing less t another…)

I wish we’d seen Sam’s restaurant and his cute chef one last time.

Actually wish we’d had a little bit of all the other himbos.

And finally

Finally

I… don’t think it was the series’s finale. I don’t know. I might be wrong but lately all interviews from the cast suggest deep down they hope something else will come and maybe they’ll be like “you know what, this story isn’t over” or something.

That last scene and the musical cue with Ted’s final shot felt so dissonant to me. Like there’s something still unfinished there.

I, like Roy Kent, have all my fingers crossed.

[jaketsparrow]

Tending Part 3!!

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f! Reader

Word Count: 11.4K

Preview: What happened between Jake and Mariella? What’s happening to you? 

A/N: Y’all wanted the angst, so I present to you ANGST... Please don’t be mad at me. 

MINORS DNI

MENTIONS OF/ TW: Oh boy get ready… dirty talk, name-calling, unprotected p in v sex (don’t do this!), explicit sexual content, impact play, hate fucking (oops), dom/sub, mature themes, brief mentions of body dysmorphia, language, choking, safe words, public activities… fluff (hehe)…  But as always, it's filthy (IMO). Sorry if I missed anything! 

Tending Part 1!

Tending Part 2!

It’s been almost a week since you’ve spoken to Jake. 

Who knew so much could happen in a short amount of time? Dreams came true, and in one swift kick were knocked down. Your life was starting to feel like a movie. Like a meet cute, romantic, and sexy movie. But now, you were just becoming a sad Lifetime movie that your grandma would watch.

You were the sad woman alone in her apartment whose dream boy let her down. It felt pathetic to be this cliche, to be this hurt by a man who didn’t even seem to feel the same way.  Cue the sad montage of memories, and bring on the melancholy music; because this scene was never-ending. 

Saturday night ended in a catastrophic way. You finally had all the control and you still let it- well him, go. The feelings have been burning deep inside you. Your heart feels heavy thinking about it all; how you reacted, how he reacted. 

“Jake…” You coo, ���What was going on with you and Mariella?” 

He pulls his head away from your hand and looks at you with a disgusted expression.

“Nothing.” He replies, still in his dominant form. “You have to get over this.”

Was there anything that could’ve changed the outcome? Yes.

The heat of the moment boiled over you and you exploded. You were in no place to be jealous; he wasn’t yours to claim. Still, the anger sat inside you, brewing, accumulating. There was no letting go of that. It was hard to feel like there wasn’t more going on between you two. He cared for you, he protected you in ways you hadn’t seen before. He made you feel like you were actually important to him in some way. 

You’ve run through the scenario countless times, thinking of what would have been better, how you could’ve cut deeper, how you could have forgiven. You’ve learned from your past. Learning that secrets might have been hidden from you, not only from Jake but from Mariella, was painful. You weren’t sure whether to believe what he was saying. There was no emotion, only facts. You felt crazy snapping at him as he remained there perfectly calm.

The worst part of it all was that he didn’t even seem sorry about it. 

You try your best to remain cool, calm, and unknowing in front of him, “Hi Jake,” 

He smiles at you. He holds his gaze for a moment trying to read you, but like every typical man, only sees the surface. He pats your head one last time and walks off to clock in. Fuck. Why is he choosing today of all days to actually be soft with you? He’s never been this comfortable in your presence, giving you pets, actually excited for a shift. You want so badly to feel normal for this moment; to be thankful that he’s trying. But every nice gesture feels like it's souring.

You move your hair back to its rightful place and walk down to the new set of customers that just arrived. 

“Hey, what can I get for you?” You ask. 

The couple doesn’t know, but inform you that they’ll call you over when they’re ready. You move on to the next gentleman, who before you can even ask, informs you that he’ll take the cheapest beer we have. How charming! 

You walk over to the tap and begin to pour him a glass. Jake is heading towards you and you try to be in deep focus on your pour. He turns parallel to you, sliding the front of his jeans over your ass; scooching past you to exit the bar. Purposefully. Not an accident. On purpose in an attempt to mark his territory here. 

He’s stuck his flag on the moon! He’s painting JAKE in big red letters across my ass. He’s trying to remind me that I belong to his cock. You want to belong to him. The butterflies in your stomach are fluttering for him, pleading for you to get over this jealousy and take him right here on the dank bar floor. You think back to the times this exact situation has happened before; maybe those other times weren’t accidental rubs. You want him amidst all your feelings, you want him to take you into his hands and fuck the anger out of you. Really prove to you that you're his and he's yours… But he wouldn’t.

Twenty minutes ago this sentiment would have been great. But now? You feel nauseous. Desperately waiting for a clue of what happened in Mariella’s house. He probably would touch her the same as you, taking control of her body… Commanding her to his will. Touching her in all her favorite spots, which of course would probably be the same as yours. It would be easy for him to do the same things, just interchanging the women. 

You bring the snippy gentleman his beer and take his credit card from the counter. Hardly looking at him. Men. Gross. 

What really could have happened last night? Why did Jake go to Mariella’s house? It had to be for some sinister reason. The smidge of doubt you had saved for him was starting to shrink the longer you waited for the truth. 

Mariella was a beautiful girl. She had this amazing long black hair that she would always style in cute ways for her shifts. Her face was soft, but she had these gorgeous piercing blue eyes. She also had the body of a fucking model. Not those skinny tiny runway models, but those Instagram models with hourglass figures. The ones who make you feel jealous that your ass isn’t that round, or that your body didn’t fit that way into a dress. You always felt a little intimidated by her beauty, surprised that she would want to work in a bar and not run off to Paris Fashion Week. 

After one night of seeing her tips though, you understood exactly why she stayed at this job. Everyone loved her. She barely had to show up for work to make crazy amounts of money. When you both would work Saturday nights before Jake came along, you were thankful that you split tips. She was beautiful, had a bubbly personality, and always convinced everyone that they should have just one. more. round. 

The insecurities are building inside of you as you compare yourself to her. You try to shake the feeling. You still have no idea what happened, you remind yourself. Dwelling on each negative thought that sat in your head wasn’t fair to Jake. You were only allowing the devil’s advocate to speak, instead of remembering that there are two sides to this story and you’ve only heard one. 

You were on a bender of sorts. The mania of the past week left you so high and now you were really feeling the low. Your bed had become a nest of random objects: chip bags, the book you tried to read, the clothes from Saturday night you still refused to move since you took them off, and your childhood stuffed animal you had pulled from your closet to comfort you. You were neglecting your body, neglecting your mind. 

Your room had an aura of depression. You didn’t think this collapse would hurt you so badly, but you felt so low. All that build-up and anticipation for Jake was lost by a dumb mistake. Or was it a mistake? You still didn’t know. Was it easier to preserve your feelings for him rather than trust him? Was it easier to end now instead of waiting months to find more secrets? Were you wrong to be so distrusting? These thoughts plagued you, shocked you… Hit you like lightning; thunder shaking everything you wanted around you. 

You only cried on Saturday night after it was over. The whole ride home you were struggling to see through the tears. Your breath was heavy, staggering, trying to stay alive. Panic was surging through you. Anger, fear, and sadness were attacking you from all angles. You felt even worse knowing you had no right to feel this way about a man who didn’t belong to you. He could have done whatever he wanted and you should have let him. But the way he touched you, the way he made you feel special… It made you feel like you had a fair fight. 

You even cried the whole way into your apartment, to your bed, and really, until you fell asleep from the exhaustion. You had been dreaming about building something with Jake, and you made a very serious decision to cut that dream short. You finally let yourself take control over him, and cut the chase off for both of you. The heat of the moment, the insecurity, the jealousy, exploded in a fiery argument. You felt played, you felt angry, you felt… misled. 

You woke up Sunday morning feeling empty. Your heart raced waiting to see if Jake would text you, would say something about how sorry he felt, or that he didn’t mean to hurt you. You were rotting in bed, smothered in blankets and grime. You feel empty. Your brain cycles over everything. You wish it was Friday night again and he was here, showing you brief moments of weakness…

Stroking his hair as he smiles at you. Caressing your thigh as a means to say thank you. Kissing you softly, holding you close. Finally giving you the form of aftercare he showed you Wednesday night. Staying the night with you. Playing with your hair to wake you up…

But that didn’t happen. And it wouldn’t now.

A message never came on Sunday, so you sat and rotted in bed. 

A message never came on Monday, or Tuesday, or Wednesday, or Thursday… 

And nothing today. 

Around nine, people started showing up to really drink. Each seat at the bar was full, and the tables were even starting to fill up too. The servers had tons of orders; large party groups treating themselves to more drinks than they should. Jake and you were jumping around the bar, trying to clear the orders. He brushed up on you a few more times, but you didn’t even have time to process or be angry at it with the amount of people that needed their precious alcohol. It's surprising to see how frustrated people get when they have to wait longer than five seconds for a drink to appear in their hands.

When you finally had a moment, you stepped off to the corner of the bar to make yourself your own drink. You couldn’t do this completely sober. You filled the glass with whiskey and put some cola in it, as secretly as you could. This was dangerous considering Chris would probably be checking your favorite whiskey during inventory, but you needed it. You took a few big sips, the dark liquor burning through the bubbles. The invigorating fire burns down your throat, forming a pit in your stomach. 

You were savoring this moment, drinking tonight was a means of self-care. You knew to be careful, not take too much at once, not to take too much at all. You just wanted a distraction, but it wasn’t really helping. You just wanted to convince yourself that numbing the feelings was better than feeling them all. You couldn’t numb everything though.

Seeing him jump around you in this new energy… It was hard to watch. Jake always looked so sexy behind the bar. He wore these tight dark wash jeans, black vans, and a black button-up that really showed off his tan. It made you mad how much you wanted him, how much you were thinking about your nights together. Thinking about how he corrected your behavior the first time you were petty with him. You felt better in his presence. Even though he never claimed any wrongdoing, you felt like his touch was his way of apologizing. 

You need to stay focused at the bar, but it was proving harder and harder to do. Every time you saw him, you thought of what Mariella said. You were creating scenarios in your head, convincing yourself that you weren’t the only one Jake was seducing. 

Why else would he go to Mariella’s? Why else would she be so upset? Wait, why was she upset about it? 

Maybe she had the same situation as him and you, and she was the lucky one who found out about the other woman. 

Is she why Jake wanted to take it slow? Is she the reason why he didn’t stay over that first night? 

She wouldn’t even look at him the night after he played, well actually, she wouldn’t look at either of us. She only brought us drinks, she wouldn’t talk or engage with us. She too was trying to focus on something other than him that night. Did she know he was playing that night? Is that why she agreed to cover his shift? Did he ask her to cover for him so that she could be the one there to support him from the sidelines? 

Why didn’t she tell you if anything was going on? After your first shift with Jake, you ran to her to tell her how sexy you thought he was. You even laughed about it together! She said you were crazy to go after a coworker, and that things would get messy. Was she trying to warn you then? 

When you came into the bar Wednesday night she wasn’t necessarily happy to see you there either. You specifically asked for a drink that wouldn’t get either of you in trouble, but somehow you did end up in trouble the next day. Did she tell Chris that you were asking for free drinks? How else would he know? We’re usually pretty good at hiding it or we always cover for each other. Was she upset at what happened that night? Knowing Jake had to drive you home?...

Could she sense something happened?

These thoughts are engrossing you. Breaking you down bit by bit. A lump starts forming in your throat. Your hands are getting clammy and you can feel the warmth taking you over. Picturing a teakettle, slowly starting to whistle and shake with the fire. Every time you turn down the stove, you pump it back up to high, screaming with the heat. You know you want to cry, but standing in the middle of a bar crying wouldn’t exactly solve anything. 

You swallow hard. Forcing the tears to pull back from your eyes. There would be no crying now. There’s a bar full of people and you have your job to focus on. You’re making it impossible for yourself by lingering on every little thought that pops through your mind. Each passing by like a highway billboard, advertising your mistrust and envy.

You rush back over to your drink and chug as much as you can. Your judgment is severely clouded, not from the liquor, but from the emotions. You feel the tension growing in you, tearing you apart limb by limb, nerve by nerve.

You swear that if you were lifted out of this bed, there would be a you-sized indent in the mattress from how you’ve sat there for so long. The bed became a hiding hole. You were sitting at the bottom in the dirt, trying to climb and find any way out. You put yourself in this hole to try and protect your feelings further, but it just made you feel worse. He was standing at the top of this hole, waving down to you; telling you to get out. 

You couldn’t trust Jake and that made you heartbroken. 

11:30 hits and you’d swear this bar became a fucking nightclub. College season is both the worst and the best time for Fleets. We have too much business coming in. 

Jake and you were handling it the best you could. You started pre-preparing the beer buckets; throwing 5 bottles in the tubs, and filling them with ice to pass along when they were ordered. Jake was taking his usual commanding role, telling people off, passing orders off to you, and-

“Back the fuck up!” Jake yells at the man reaching over the counter to touch your ass. You turn to look at the guy. He is quite literally standing over the bar, reaching his hand out, his finger inches from your ass. He’s stuck in a moment of shock, arm extended, completely caught. “Chris!” 

Chris is occupied at the table of regulars, but still, fortunately, hears Jake yell. Chris runs over from the table and removes the gentleman from his overhang on the counter. He yanks him off the bar stool, and escorts him not so gently out of the bar, with his friends in tow. The man is screaming at you, at Chris, and at Jake. 

“Fuck you! Fucking prude! Good thing your boyfriend’s there to save you!” His voice echoes into the night as Chris pushes him past the doors. 

You break your pause and continue making the vodka sodas in front of you. Trying your best to ignore what the man just said. Working in a bar like this means things like that will happen. It's not the first time someone has been caught trying to grab you, and you’re trying not to let it bother you. You didn’t want to feel protected by your ‘boyfriend’, because he wasn’t your boyfriend; you were alone. 

 Jake walks up behind you, resting his arm on your hip, checking on you. 

“I’m fine,” You bark. Trying to prove you’re not a damsel in distress. 

“Hey,” Jake nudges at you to turn to him, and you look back, scowling, “You sure?”

You close your eyes and breathe for a moment. You feel the heat building, growing, trying to come out of you. Your whole body is sweating, clamming up at the overwhelmed state you’re in. Trying to hold back your confusion, trying to hold back your anger at the man, trying to hold back the praise you desperately want to give to Jake. You wipe your hands on the front of your shirt and ball your fists up beside you. “Yes, Jake. I’m fine. He didn’t actually touch me.”

He looks at you with a sad gaze… Maybe he can see below the surface. He rubs your side briefly and gives you a firm squeeze before heading back over to the customers. You exhale slowly, trying to collect yourself. Why did he have to be so protective over you when you were so clearly trying not to be happy with him right now? He clearly wants something; wants you to feel trusted by him. You want to trust him, but it felt so hard to in this moment. 

If he didn’t tell you he was going to Mariella’s, then it obviously was something he didn’t want you to know about. He clearly was being secretive, hiding. You also realize, he probably knows that you know something. How could he not? If Mariella had that big of a reaction with you, then she probably had that big of a reaction with Jake. So here he was, being all calm, cool, and collected, meanwhile knowing that you know what he didn’t want you to know! 

You’re spiraling. 

You reach over and finish the rest of your cocktails. You grab the three vodka sodas in front of you and balance them between your fingers, gingerly carrying them over to the blonde party girls in the corner. 

“About time!” One of them snickers. 

“Next time, you can make them,” You snap back. The shocked look on their faces was priceless. That line would probably get you in trouble if anyone heard, but these girls are already too plastered to even form full cohesive sentences. “Also girls, the other bartender and I are a little concerned. We’re going to bring you some water and cut you off for now. Okay?”

They were understandably not happy about that. Your frustration was mixing with the liquid courage and taking you to an unhappy, and honestly, quite rude place. You tried not to care so much about it, but your heart was growing heavier with each interaction you were having. 

You wave over to Chris, who jumps and scurries to your side. Damage control. 

“Hey Chris, you see those girls behind me?” Chris turns to peer at the girls, quite obviously.

“Yeah?”

“Well, I think they’re probably done for now. They were being pretty snarky. Can you bring them some water?”

“Fine.” He grumbles. 

You sigh. Chris would probably ignore whatever those girls had to say about you since you forewarned him about their behavior first. It wasn’t your first time throwing the customers under the bus, but you didn't enjoy doing it. 

You woke up from your second nap of the day around four. It was still light outside, but just barely. The clouds were making the sky a dull blue. Your hair is a mess, tangled around you. Just by the way it feels against your face, you can tell it probably looks like you accidentally left your windows down at the carwash. Your body is achy and tired. These naps are not exactly refreshing; more depressing than anything else. 

It takes you a moment to realize that your phone has been buzzing. You look at the screen through sleepy eyes. 

No... Jake. 

He’s calling you. The buzz buzz buzz continues as you stare blankly at the screen. Pick. me. up! Answer. The. phone! You tap the screen, sending him to voicemail. That lumpy feeling is happening in your throat again. You feel the sting of emotions wanting to bubble out. Everything you have ignored since Sunday wants to be thrown out. You take your palms and hold them over your eyes, pressing hard; trying to physically repress your tears. 

Buzz buzz buzz. Buzz buzz buzz. 

His name is flashing again over your phone. No! You grab your phone and tap voicemail again. The tears are coming now. They burn going down the sides of your face. The skin is still raw from Saturday night’s blubbering. You use your arms to wipe the tears as fast as they are coming. Your breath is shaky, uncontrolled. You breathe in deeply and try to hold everything in for another moment; trying to collect yourself. 

Buzz buzz buzz… Buzz buzz buzz. 

“No!” You yell. You grab your phone and throw it into the pile of laundry on the other side of the bed. The faint buzzing continues, only now muffled on the clothes. The burn of feelings is crushing you. Rising again, forcing the heaving and uneasiness to return. You collapse into your hands, holding your face and allowing the tears to fall around you. You lower your head into your lap, folded and compressed in your distress. 

Beep! Beep!

Can you get one fucking second? Some idiot out in the parking lot is deciding now is the perfect time to be honking their horn. Do they not realize this is an apartment complex? It's not your friend’s house, it’s a fucking community of people who don’t want to hear that you’re impatient.

Beeeeep! Beeeeep!

You grunt, exhaling as much negativity into your groan as humanly possible. You remove your hands from your tear-soaked eyes and sit up from your stupor. The sadness inside of you is quickly forming into an aggressive mood, overwhelmed by all the excitement. You swing your legs over the bed and angrily stomp over to the window, forcing the glass up to give this asshole a piece of your mind. 

“Shut the fuck up!” You yell. 

A familiar voice shouts back up to you, “Maybe if you answer your fucking phone!”

You look down to the parking lot to find him there. Jake. In the same spot as he was Friday night. His arm is reached over to the horn, temping another honk. In his other hand, he’s waving his phone at you. He’s wearing black linen pants, a distressed t-shirt, and wearing sunglasses to block any emotions from his eyes. He looks so good.

Seeing him after all of this is painful. You want to jump out of the window and let him take you. The sneaky twinge of jealousy and frustration consumes any feelings of absolving him. You made your decision for a reason. 

“No!” You yell back to Jake and slam the window shut. 

You return to the bar, and Jake is clearly behind on orders. Breathe. Walk over to him. 

“Give me something,” You say, watching him line up the tickets. 

He hands you three orders. Beer, beer, and oh more beer. Easy. You slide over to the tap again and start pouring. 

“Hey!” Jake yells to you over the crowd and music, “Last time, you sure you’re good?”

You fill the glass and place it down in front of you. Freezing again, trying to collect yourself. Whenever someone asks if you’re good, they clearly know that you are not. That question pushes even a person who is good to a breaking point. But it was especially pushing you, someone who wasn’t good. No, you were not good. No. Not at all. He is the perfect specimen. The perfect gentleman. The perfect lover. Except, he wasn’t perfect. He was hiding. Lying. Holding back from you. 

You were also probably being delusional and tipsy at this point which didn’t help your feelings towards him. You wanted to still give your heart away to him, even if he stabbed it, broke it, and kicked it around. 

“Not right now,” You look at him, seeing genuine concern in his eyes, “Not now Jake, okay?”

He swallows and nods. 

Maybe he did know that you knew. 

Shut up. You’re spiraling. 

Why the fuck is he here? What is he doing?! What are you doing? You walk over to the bed and fold in half over the mattress. Screaming softly into the comforter. The sheets and mattress vibrate your aggression. You weren’t ready for another confrontation. It was easier to try and ignore everything and let the world slowly collapse in on you. What the fuck?!

Buzz buzz buzz... Buzz buzz buzz. 

Ignore it. You’re still upset. You don’t have anything to say to him, and if you tried to now, you’re not entirely sure what would come out of you. 

Beep! Beep!

Dont. Don’t engage. Remember, don’t give into his control.

Buzz buzz buzz... Buzz buzz buzz. 

Fuck! 

You clamor over the bed to reach for your phone, sprawling out in despair. His name is flashing across your screen, you try to use all of your willpower to not answer. But you cave, sliding to answer. 

“What?!” You snap into the phone.

“Come outside,” He commands.

“You know Jake,” You try not to sound choked up, “I’m really not in the mood.”

“Just come outside.” His voice sounds sincere, “Please?”

Your heart drops upon hearing his tone. Maybe he’s going to apologize. Maybe he’s going to make it alright. 

“Fine.” You reply through grated teeth. 

You don’t even bother to dress yourself. Some might consider this look cozy fashion. Grey sweats, band T-shirt, messy hair. You’re practically dressed for a night out! Anger really brings out a moody sarcastic version of you.  

You begrudgingly head out into the hallway, each step forceful trying to extinguish the anger. You push past the glass doors and head down the steps into the parking lot. You walk over to him, head hanging low, trying to avoid his eyes. You take your last step in his direction, stopping and planting yourself a few feet away from him. You cross your arms, trying to physically exude your uncomfortable feelings. You look up at Jake. 

He’s matching you, standing with his arms crossed. Waiting for you. He seems disappointed in your attitude and probably also your attire.

“Get in the car.” He points to the open passenger-side door. 

“Why?” You grill. 

He walks over to the driver’s side and opens his door to get in. 

“C’mon,” He presses, “Just get in the car.” 

You drop your arms and give in to Jake. You resent how easily you cave into him, especially after everything that’s happened. Everything you’ve been mulling over. 

The last call finally happens around one. For the most part, the bar is emptying, the music has stopped and only the hushed voices of dates & friends remain. Jake hasn’t checked in on you since you kind of told him to back off. You felt bad for being mean to him when he was trying to be nice to you, but you didn’t want anything else to come out accidentally. 

You start to wipe down the counters and collect the empty glasses. Jake finishes closing out tabs and trying to rush people out. 

Chris walks over to Jake and whispers something to him. Jake is visibly disappointed in what Chris is telling him. You listen closely, trying not to be obvious. 

“Not tonight Chris.” Jake pleads. 

“C’mon bud,” Chris begs, “Last time. It’s an emergency.”

“Fine. Fine.” Jake points his finger to Chris, “Last time I’m saving your ass.”

Chris passes over the keys to the bar and Jake snatches them from his hand; shoving them in his pocket and walks over to you.

“I gotta close up. Can you stay?” He asks. 

I guess staying would provide the perfect opportunity for alone time with Jake. “Yeah,” you respond.

The car ride has been completely silent. You didn’t dare to break the tension. You didn’t have anything left to say to him unless he had something to say to you. 

You catch a glance of yourself in the sideview mirror. Yikes. You don’t look so good. Your eyes are red and puffy, your hair is clearly unbrushed, and you look miserable. Fair, considering how you’ve spent the last few days, but still not your usual polished self. You turn to look at Jake. His hair is doing that stupid perfect windswept thing again. Fuck. You look away and watch the road. 

You have no idea where he’s taking you and you’re starting to get concerned about that… The usual houses & buildings on each side have started to stagger, each mile becoming more remote. 

You walk back to the office to put the cash register drawers in the safe. Chris left it open for you so he wouldn’t have to give out the passcode. You drop them in the safe, and each box clamors down into the metal box. You push the door shut and lock the electronic safe. 

You walk back out into the hallway, trying to prepare yourself for your next move. You know the bar is empty now, the tasks are done. Jake is finishing returning the stools underneath the bar. Instead of immediately pouncing at him, you walk over to the bar and take two clean rocks glasses out. You pull a bourbon off the shelf and pour each of you a drink. He looks at you, confused for a moment. 

“Jake… Please sit,” You ask. The tones of disappointment are hard to shake now that the right time has come. 

You put down his drink and pass it towards him across the bar. He sits down on the stool and accepts the glass from you. 

“What?-” He begins to ask. 

“Jake.” You cut him off, “Mariella said something to me.”

The words are out. The anxiety is consuming you. The rage, the confusion, the insecurities, the frustration, all of it taking you entirely. Your arms are shaking. Your legs feel wobbly and unsure if they can hold you. A pit drops in your stomach. It feels like you’re the first car on a rollercoaster, heading straight down, closing your eyes, hoping you don’t fly off the tracks. You try your best to maintain eye contact with Jake, analyzing every facial muscle, and trying to read him. 

He takes a sip of the bourbon, holding it in his mouth a moment, before taking one big gulp. “What did she say?”

He’s too calm for your liking. He doesn’t even seem to be bothered at the thought of Mariella talking to you. Are you overreacting? You don’t like the way this situation is making you feel. 

“She said,” You take a deep breath, trying to not sound shaky or upset, “Well, she said you were at her house last night.”

You wash down the words with a swig of alcohol, trying to mellow yourself out. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t be-” Jake reaches for your glass, and you snap your hand back, clutching the drink to your chest. 

“Jake.” You scold. Reminding him he should be responding to your statement, not trying to baby you. 

He sighs and covers his mouth, rubbing his face. His expression gives away signs of guilt. He looks down at the counter, taps a few fingers, and looks back up to you, “Yes. I was at her house last night.”

Fuck. 

A flurry of raw emotion floods you. You grip the edges of the counter, holding on for dear life. You bite your lip to try and keep it from trembling. Your eyes are welling up and you feel stupid standing like an idiot in front of him. You were an idiot to think that he was yours. You were an idiot to think that someone like him could want just you. You were an idiot to think that he wasn’t trying to seduce any other coworkers. You were an idiot for not getting to him sooner. And you were an idiot for letting him have you. 

“After you saw me?” You croak. Your voice is unfortunately shaking, unable to prevent the upset tone from presenting itself. 

“Yes.” His answers are cold, stripped of any warmth.

Shit. You idiot. You’re so stupid. Of course, he went to her after you. That’s why he rushed out in a panic, scared to disappoint her. You choke down the remainder of your bourbon. 

“Why?” 

“I had to.” He states. 

“What the fuck does that mean?” Your answers are starting to be harsher, the alcohol pushing you into a mean-spirited tone. You’re frustrated and angry that he’s not comforting you, that he’s only doing the bare minimum. 

“Hey,” He snaps. “Nothing happened.”

“Oh really?” You snap back, “You want me to believe after seeing how she reacted, and how quick you were to rush out last night that nothing happened?...” Jake sits there for a moment, taking in your punches. Not fighting back, not saying anything, “I believe it was you who once said nothing doesn’t mean nothing, Jake.”

Jake exhales, trying to keep his cool exterior, which is pissing you off even more, “If I say nothing happened, I mean it.” 

You grab your face in your hands. Trying to hold yourself together a little longer. The echoes of his words and Mariellas echo in your head. You feel ashamed, you feel alone. You want him to reach across the bar and tell you everything is all right and that you’re his, and you don’t have to worry about her. That he wants you to be his, that he needs it. That no one else in the world has compared to you, that he’s been waiting for the right time to tell you. 

But now this complicates everything. Your head is spinning. Gauging whether to trust him or to push him away. Your insecurities flood through you, reminding you that he wasn’t ready for this. He didn’t want the drama. He didn’t want the insecurity: he wanted easy, he wanted the chase, he wanted the fun. You couldn’t be easy when you knew all you could think about was him. And here you were now, thinking about him with someone else. 

The road ends in a small cul-de-sac by a nature trail. He shuts the car off and walks over to your door to open it. You sit further back into the seat, scared of the situation. Scared of his silence. 

“C’mon.” He reaches his hand out to you. 

You hesitate for a moment, meeting his eyes, showing your distaste. You grab his arm and let him lift you out of the seat. 

“What is going on?” Jake finally breaks your silence. 

You pull your head away from your dripping hands. You wipe them on the front of your jeans. 

“Jake I can’t do this.” You look dead into his eyes. 

“What are you talking about?” He asks. 

This feminine rage urges through you. You’ve been in his control for too long. You’ve let him call the shots, you’ve waited for him to make you his prey. You waited for him to text you first. You waited for him to make the first moves. You let him tell you what he wanted, and he let you forget what you needed. 

“Jake I don’t believe you!” You snap. Every inch of your heart is fracturing. You think about all the conversations you’ve had at the bar, every night you’ve worked together in harmony. Every moment where you’ve been close to him. Every moment you’ve been his. Only to be shot back down to one of his. “I have so many feelings about you, too many. I am jealous. I am upset that you didn’t stay the night still. I thought we were starting, I thought everything that I had hoped for was finally coming true. I have been waiting months for you to notice me. Every Saturday hoping you’d look at me a little longer than the last. I’ve lived the chase that you want so badly. I lived it every weekend, trying to play at every angle. I’ve been waiting for you, and you don’t even seem like you want me!”

Jake reaches to grab your arm, “Hey, why don’t you-”

“No! No Jake. I don’t want to calm down. I’m frustrated. I’m confused. I’m confused especially as to why you went to see Mariella last night. I’m confused as to why one of my friends is mad at me now. I’m confused as to why the boy I like was so worried about disappointing her and had to rush away from me to go see her. Something had to happen, and if it didn’t last night, it had before. And I am so hoping I’m not right. Because that would mean, you went behind her back to see me, and she went behind my back knowing I wanted you.”

You take a deep breath. Everything is on the table. Your poker face is gone. Your cool, chill, fun side is gone. You are upset. You’ve revealed yourself too early on. The liquid courage has taken its hold on you, becoming a truth serum. You feel so stupid for it all. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jake scoffs. He takes a swig from the bourbon. 

“That’s it?” You say through tears, “That’s all you can say to that?”

“What do you want me to say? You want me to be perfect?” He leans into you, “I am not going to be who you want me to be, ever.”

His tone is serious, and cold, and makes you want to crawl up and lay on the floor. You wipe the tears from your eyes, and walk around the bar to him, standing at his eye level. You put your finger on his chest, pinning him, “I don’t need you to be perfect, I just wanted you. And you fucking ruin it every time. No matter how well you ‘take care of me��� you only come around when you get something from it.”

“Don’t forget who started those games,” He pulls your finger off of his chest, “You think I didn’t see the way you looked at me? You’re telling me you weren’t in it for the sex either? You seemed to also really enjoy those moments.”

His digs hurt. He makes you feel small in this moment. You know he’s right. But that doesn’t excuse how hurt you still are. You do want him. You did need him. Sexually. The tension that has been fabricated in your chest was imploding. You take your hand back from Jake and stare at him for a moment. Both of you are full of rage… And lust. 

He grabs your waist firmly and pulls you into him. Your hair hangs over the edge of his face; you’re so close… You look down in his lap to see how restricted he is against his jeans. 

“Look at me.” He instructs. 

You lift your eyes to meet his. An insatiable look of malice and desire brews behind the brown. An intensity that you haven’t seen has grown inside of him. Every time he’s played this dominant role, you’ve known that he wasn’t actually angry or upset with you, but this time… This time it was different. You loved it. You loved how you could actually see something behind his eyes, see the passion; he felt something because of what you said. This moment of deep, intense passion is almost enough to make you forgive him, but you still aren’t ready to let go. 

“Jake,” You whine. 

He pulls you further into him, taking his hand to the back of your head, and pulling you into his lips; your faces mashing together. The anger is like an aphrodisiac, making his taste insatiable. He stands, kicking the stool back behind him. It clatters to the floor, sending echoes through the bar. He shifts his arm around from your head to your neck and holds it tightly between his grip. You pull away from him, trying to choke at the air. You reach up and grab out to his stomach, trying to paw at him. 

“You’re not going to do this to me,” He says through grated teeth. He relieves his hand from your neck and pushes you over the counter, your gut wedged into the counter. 

“Jake!” You exclaim. 

He brushes himself across your jeans, letting you know he’s taking control. He takes his hands and runs them across your thighs, up your legs, and across your stomach. He runs his fingers towards the button on your jeans, quick to undo it along with the zipper. 

“Not my name,” He barks to you. 

You feel burdened by the weight of the situation, but you can’t deny feeling his touch is softening the blow. He reaches down the front of your pants, his hands just barely meeting your warming clit. He uses his force to pull you back towards him. Allowing you to better feel his cock pressed against your ass.  

“Sir!” You yell. 

He backs himself away from you, and a quick pained smack raps across your ass. Tears start forming in your eyes. You close them, trying to hide the glossiness. 

“This is what my slut gets when she talks like that to me.” 

“Please!” You yell, through gasps. 

“Color.”

You know you can take it, and you know you want to take it. Feeling him want you is the only thing holding you. “Green!” You cry. 

Another quick hand marks your ass. You hold onto the counter for dear life. 

“Do you like feeling this way?” He asks, “Do you like being punished?”

You want to scream ‘no’. You don’t like making him angry, you want him to be happy with you. But secretly you both know that his dark side is more enticing. It's addicting. Having him act this way is the only way you know he wants you. He’s right you won’t get a soft Jake, you won’t get the perfect boyfriend. But that’s not what you want right now. You want this frustration to be taken from you; taken from him too. Most importantly you know having him this way is the reason you’re starting to get wet. “Yes!” You squeal. You prepare yourself for another hit, but nothing comes. 

You start to lift yourself back up, easing your gut away from the rounded counter. Before you can even get inches off the surface, a hand comes down on your head, pressing your face into the cold wooden bar. The smell of cleanser is burning your nose. You feel everything in that moment. The counter that’s pressing into you, the stickiness of it attaching to the side of your face, the strong hand holding you down, and your body collapsing over his will. Jake assumes his mounting position behind you again, leaning into your ear. 

“When will you ever learn?” He asks. 

“Never sir,” You spit back between pressed lips. 

Jake scoffs and releases his hand from your head, moving it down to the small of your back. He takes his hand and yanks your pants down to your ankles. Your ass is bare and red, presenting itself to him. 

He takes his free hand to bring it back to your front, dancing his fingers over your tender clit. You can feel the warmth, the wetness, growing. Your brain is telling you that this is what you need, “This,” He says, applying pressure, reaching further down your pussy, “Is mine.”

“Sir-”

“No.” He barks back, “Color.”

“Green…” You whine. You know you want this. You want him. You need his touch, need to feel secure in this moment. The thoughts of him you’ve been having are consuming you, you want your jealousy to be fucked out of you entirely. 

You hear the jingle of his belt as he takes off his own pants. You dare not move or open your eyes to see. He’s groaning softly, you can hear him start to take himself into his hand. You listen to him lubricate himself, the wet sloshing sounds filling your ears, hearing each pump of his cock in his hands. He presses himself against you again, meeting the threshold of your needy heat. He takes his hands and rubs them over your hips, making large slow movements over your body. He’s teasing you entirely. 

He knows what he wants to do to you, but he has to make it as painfully slow as possible. He rolls his hand over your hips and begins directing towards your cunt. Each second that passes is getting slower, and slower until he slips his middle and ring finger inside of you. 

You gasp, not expecting his fingers to breach you so soon. He takes his other hand to grab your face, his fingers sprawled out on either side of your jaw. “See?” He asks. He slides his fingers out from you, and you open your eyes, “You want this…” He lifts his fingers to show you the dripping wet digits, “You’re already wet for this.”

He’s right, you are. You knew it all night, every glance at him made you want him more. When he saved you from that asshole you wanted him right then. You had been fighting your need for him to touch you. Each moment that he wasn’t touching you, you wanted him more. 

“I know sir,” You reply. 

He takes the fingers and puts them in your mouth. You take them in, suckling up to the knuckles. His rough fingers linger in your mouth for a moment, making sure that you take everything in. He slides them out of your mouth and proceeds to move them back between your shaking legs. He doesn’t insert them, but rather teases your clit, touching just lightly enough to drive you mad. 

“This is what you get,” He snaps. 

Without warning his cock breaches you, and he is by no means gentle with you. Pushing himself in, the hilt of his shaft meeting your body. He grunts aggressively feeling you envelop him completely. A sharp breath escapes you, feeling completely unprepared for his size. He’s stronger, rougher than he had been with you before. A new energy has taken him.

He grabs hard onto your hips, taking a hold you know will leave marks worse than before. He’s using your body as leverage to rock himself in and out of you. Each stroke comes at you harder, pushing your body further into the counter. He’s fucking you into oblivion. 

“Please!” You moan. 

He starts to pick up his motion, pounding you harder against him. Your groans are loud, echoing through the empty bar. Your unprepared pussy is aching, feeling yourself stretch over him, trying to adapt to his size. With minimal warm-up, he’s testing your body's limits. Your knuckles are red and tight squeezing on the edges of the counter. Your breath is sustained to limited gasps, unable to take in too much with the counter being wedged underneath you. Bouncing forward, face gripping to the bar, knowing there would be no way to make yourself more comfortable. 

Jake reaches up and grabs a chunk of your hair, pulling it back from your scalp. You’re arched completely, stomach tightened against the edge of the bar. You adjust your hands to try and hold yourself from completely cutting your stomach off. He reaches his other hand under your stomach, finding a new way to leverage himself further in you. 

“Fuck!” You gasp. 

“Color!” He demands. 

“Green!” Your whole body is in blissful agony. Not feeling any pain, but pure raw pleasure. He’s swiveling his hips, moving his cock inside of you. Each stroke forcefully passes over your g-spot, sending signals of complete dopamine to your brain. 

His soft deep grunts are signaling he’s close, and you are too. The pounding is becoming overstimulating; needing a release. You moan with each pump, letting him know you're on the brink of boiling over. He releases your hair and scoops you up by your neck, not grabbing it but holding it upwards to maintain his positioning. 

Through ragged breaths, he still tries to control you, “You don’t cum… until I do.” 

“Please, sir!” You protest. You can feel the heat and building happening within you. Your legs grow weaker, shaking against his body. You squeeze onto anything your hands can reach, his arm, the counter… You almost can’t hang on. You tighten yourself and try to hold back any orgasm. The night has been needing a release like this, a moment of selfish pleasure. You wanted him to use you like this, to remind you that he still wanted you. 

“Fuck!” He wails. In a few last pumps, he spills into you, and you let yourself go. Completely. A loud pleasured moan escapes from your lips. Your body convulses at the final feeling. A warm hot burn caressing you, sending tingles through your muscles. Your body collapses in his arms as the two of you mix together. 

He places you on the counter gently, careful to not let your head completely smack against the surface. He slowly pulls out of you, both of you gasping at the over-stimulating sensation. You watch him from the corner of your eye, trying to regain your breath. 

He carefully tucks himself back into his jeans and falls back onto the stool. You pry yourself from the counter and slowly pull your jeans back on. The feeling of denim pressing against your aching pussy doesn’t feel great, but you’d rather not be the only one still showing off. 

The release you had been wishing for finally came, but you didn’t feel the sour memory of dishonesty leave with the pleasure. The feelings of euphoria start to pass. Washing away from you like a tide being pulled in. The satisfaction swooshes away from you, leaving behind the mess that it had tried to cover. 

The clarity of the situation clouds back over you, still wondering about the unanswered questions. Feeling him take you was exactly what you wanted, but it still didn’t give you everything you needed. He did want your body, but it wasn’t clear whether he wanted you. He didn’t tell you the full truth or really answer anything. All he did was attempt to distract you so you’d shut up and forget the whole thing. 

The lust has quickly left your body and mistrust begins to consume you again. You try to engage with him after this moment, hoping that maybe the sex will have loosened him up. You walk over to him; he’s nursing a few sips of the remaining bourbon, trying to calm himself. His breathing is deep, exhausted. You reach out to him, and he grabs your hand to pull you towards him, wedging your legs between his. 

You reach out to move the hair out of his face, lightly brushing your fingers across his forehead, moving the airborne pieces back to their rightful place. A ritual of sorts for you two. You pat down his head, matting his hair back into shape. Trying to find the courage to speak again.  

“Jake…” You coo, “What was going on with you and Mariella?” 

He pulls his head away from your hand and looks at you with a disgusted expression.

“Nothing.” He replies, still in his dominant form. “You have to get over this.”

He had you where he wanted you. But you also had him cornered in a lie. You know if he can’t even tell you what happened, then he was hiding behind an excuse. The rage is starting to fill you again. Any progress that was made from your earlier fulfillment was gone, the envy was in full effect. You deserved the truth. Considering how much of yourself you’ve given to him; your body, your control, your thoughts… All of it belonged to him, and he couldn’t even amuse you with the truth. 

You pull away from his legs, scoffing, brewing with irritation. You wrap your hands around your face, trying to clasp onto the last bits of sanity that remained

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You throw your hands in the air towards him, “You can’t even answer that question? After I just did all of that for you?” 

“For me?” He scoffs, “You were the one getting worked up so I would do that to you!”

“No Jake, I wasn’t getting worked up so you would fuck me!”

Jake stands to assert himself again, “Sure seemed like it…”

“No, that’s not what that was. I didn’t want this to be the outcome, but after the fact, I was hoping that one little moment of intimacy would maybe compel you to tell me the fucking truth.”

“I don’t even know what else to tell you.” He sits back down on the stool, dismissing your worries, voiding his emotions. 

“Fuck this.” Tears stream down your eyes. “Fuck you, Jake! You lead me on, you make me feel important, and you can’t even do me the justice of telling me the fucking truth! I’m just an easy fuck for you huh? One of your little sluts you can toy and play with!” The anger is crescendoing, “Fuck you for making me feel this way!”

You swivel and turn to leave the bar. The tears stream over your eyes and your breath becomes ragged. Each step away from him feels like it takes forever. It feels like you’re walking away from the most important thing that’s happened to you. You’re walking away from the passion, from the beauty, from the sincerity. In just a few days Jake had made you feel like no other man had, he meant more to you than he probably even realized. He couldn’t even see how much of an impact he’s made on you, and judging by his reaction, maybe you’ve done nothing to him. Each step is a soft goodbye from a future with Jake, but it's also a goodbye to pure trouble. 

A loud shattering sound pops up behind you. You snap your neck to see the cause. Jake had smashed his drink; the amber liquid mixing in with the shards on the bar floor. Jake doesn't linger to see the mess he made, instead already heading out to the front door. The trail of glass stays put behind him. 

His anger pains you. His upset pains you even more. His reaction means that there was more to say, but you wouldn’t listen and he wouldn’t tell you. 

You run out the back door into the cold fall night. The breeze frosting the wet edges of your eyes. You feel so stupid, so dramatic. The whole world is imploding on your heart. 

He pulls you through the trail, practically tugging your wrist the whole way through. At this point, you’d wished that you put on better shoes, or maybe brought bug spray. Each step brings a crunch of fresh fallen leaves underneath your feet, clinging onto your fuzzy slippers. 

“Jake-” 

“Wait,” He says, pulling you harder through the brush. 

The trees get scarce, opening up to more sky. Before long, a field appears in front of you. The grass is tall, crisp, and dying, brushing past the legs of your sweats. The wind is blowing a soft chill breeze; the same autumn air that woke you on that Thursday morning and the same air that touched you Saturday night. 

He yanks you through, creating a path through the green. The ground is soft beneath your slippers; the damp dirt creates a light brown halo around the edges of your soles. Still being pulled by your wrist you try your best to keep up with his large strides through the grass. It feels like you are being waded through a pool of brush, slowly drowning through the field. He grabs at you harder and pulls you nearly off of your feet. 

“Jake!” You protest, yanking your arm back from his grip.

He turns to look at you. You grab your wrist and massage it, trying to ease the light red marks on your wrist. He looks bashful for a moment, seeing the dull pain he caused. He takes a deep breath and paces closer to you. 

“Yell.” He commands. 

You look up from your wrists a shoot him a confused look.

“What?!”

“What are you upset about?” 

“Jake,” You challenge, “I don’t want to do this right now, take me home.”

“I’m not taking you home yet. I asked what you’re upset about.”

You sigh and throw your hands down. You feel like a child whose parents just asked them to tell them about their feelings. This whole situation feels childish. “Jake I’m upset because I feel like I’m not the only one you're sleeping with and that makes me jealous.”

“Okay, and?”

You growl. Seeing him so calm again presents flashbacks to Saturday night. Tossing your stomach around like a punching bag. A welling of tears starts to present behind your eyes, but you try to breathe through it, “And!” You try to hold back the choking, but it's becoming visibly more noticeable, “And I’m mad about that because if something did happen, then you weren’t honest with me, and my friend wasn’t honest with me.”

He crosses his arms for a moment, watching you. It makes you feel uneasy when he does this, you feel insane; like he’s judging you for having real emotions. He gestures out into the field, “You’re mad at me, so yell.”

“Jake, I’m done yelling.” You admit defeat. “Can I go home now?”

“No.”

“Jake.” 

“If you’re done, then is it my turn to yell?” He asks. 

You fear for what he has to say. He could very easily make you look like an overdramatic woman, putting thoughts into your head, and making it all up. In some ways maybe you were, but you always knew when your gut was right and something was going on. If that’s really why he brought you here, then you definitely made the right decision to get out. 

You try to soften your tone and prevent any backlash from him, “Jake…”  

He takes in a deep breath and turns away from you to scream into the distance. His anger trailing with the wind, being carried away in a gust. It's a long and painful yell. Deep, full of frustration, and tension. He trails off, breaking his voice. The long note extinguishes with a sweep of the calling air.

He clears his throat and turns to you. 

“It's your turn now.”

“No!” You exclaim. 

You stand clenching your fists. You want to yell. You really do. You’re so angry about everything too. Angry for letting your lust get in the way of a real conversation. Angry that Mariella is somehow holding one over you. Angry that Jake couldn’t admit anything. Angry for telling yourself to stay away. Angry that you feel alone. Angry…

You rotate away from Jake and let out a gut-wrenching wail. Saturday night bubbles through you. 

“Fuck this.” Tears stream down your eyes. “Fuck you, Jake! You lead me on, you make me feel important, and you can’t even do me the justice of telling me the fucking truth! I’m just an easy fuck for you huh? One of your little sluts you can toy and play with!” The anger is crescendoing, “Fuck you for making me feel this way!”

Friday night surges through. 

“Yes,” He answers. He beams at you, letting you soak in his happiness, “Be good for me until then, okay?” He pulls you in for one last kiss. When he breaks away, he looks at you another moment before rubbing your cheek and turning away. 

Watching him leave is always depressing. This night confirms your feelings for Jake are far past just sexual. The promise of seeing him tomorrow is the only thing keeping you together. 

Thursday morning’s pain seeps out last. 

“Jake, stop!” you yell to him, scared he might actually leave. His hand is on the knob but he's not turning it. “Why didn’t you stay?” You finally asked it. 

Your anger for being alone is releasing itself. Your anger at Jake is releasing. He’s brought you here, he came for you. 

You let the cry echo through the field. The wind taking your sorrows away, cleaning your spirit with a bitter touch. You drop to your knees; just barely catching yourself with your hands. Jake walks over to you and puts his hand on your shoulder. He uses you as a crutch to lower himself next to you. 

“This is where I come when my bandmates piss me off,” He explains. You turn to look at him. Your head is clear, but your eyes are glossing over. “This is where I came Saturday night.”

You rest your hand on his knee, “I just wanted you to tell me the truth,” You cry. 

“I know,” He turns to meet your eyes, “You were right. It wasn’t nothing.” You pull your hand from his lap and turn further towards him to engage in his honesty. “Mariella and I did sleep together… Once….” He seems ashamed to admit the truth, “It was after my first week at the bar before I met you.”

“Oh.” You’re disappointed to hear the truth finally come out. You hoped deep down that something really never happened. You hoped that Jake hadn’t given into Mariella’s vixen-like nature. Jake looks down, embarrassed. 

“She wouldn’t leave me alone after that. She kept calling me and texting me. I played along for a little, trying to prevent things from being awkward... But then I met you,” He reaches for your hand, “And I knew I wasn’t ready for anything so I didn’t know what to do.” He passes his fingers over your hand. It's undeniable that he’s not used to being this vulnerable. His hands are warm and shaking slightly, “So I waited, and tried to keep Mariella quiet.”

He finally looks back up to you, an awkward and unsettled look flashing across his face. “Then the band really started to play more, and I knew the bar had their live music on Wednesdays… and I knew you always went. I asked Chris to let us play since he owed me anyway. He told me we could have that Wednesday and he let us take the time.

“When the night finally came, I hoped that you would still show up. I selfishly thought that maybe you only came in on Wednesdays to hang out with me, but I was proven wrong.” You laugh, knowing that he was far from the truth on that, “When I saw you at the bar, ugh. I finally had to take you home that night. I could see the way you were looking at me and I just knew I had to do something about it. I’m not the kind of guy who likes waiting.”

 “For someone who doesn’t like waiting, you sure seem to drag a lot of unwanted stuff out,” You blurt.

He sits there for a moment gritting his teeth through an embarrassed expression. “Fair point… You really knocked me off my game. As soon as I figured out you had a thing for me, I got all weird.”

You blush, hearing him talk about you like this is new and different; the kind of Jake you can trust. You play with him a little to lighten the mood, “How could you possibly figure out that I liked you?”

“It was quite obvious. Do you realize how bad of a staring problem you have?” He jokes.

You gawk at him, stunned by the truth, and push his arm. “Shut up!” You feel the color rising in your cheeks. 

He laughs and his usual Jake smirk splays across his face. It felt good to see him smile like that again. 

“I just knew that night, things would be different. I didn’t want to stay because I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it all at once- I’m still not sure if I am. But I felt even more guilty laying in your bed that night because I knew Mariella still wanted something from me too. I didn’t want to give you too much before closing that off completely. I didn’t want her to get any ideas. She already knew we went home together that night and was pissed.”

“She should be fucking jealous,” You joke, nudging him.

He laughs, and smiles smugly, “She was, trust me…” He looks up to the sky, “I told her I would talk to her Friday night,” He looks back at you, “Before you got all horny and texted me.”

“Oh my god!” You playfully push him again. 

He laughs again, squeezing your hand harder, “Trust me if I didn’t have to go tell her off, I would’ve been there with you all night… I saw that puzzle in your kitchen and it was killing me to not finish it.” 

You smile at him. Thinking about a domesticated form of Jake makes your heart warm. A possibility. “That puzzle still isn’t done.”

“Perfect.” He pulls you into his lap. Holding you softly, resting his arms over the tops of your thighs, “But before we do that puzzle, I have to tell you the rest of my story, okay?”

“Okay.”

He holds the side of your face to turn it to his. “I told her that I wanted you. Okay? She’s jealous that I chose you… Did you hear that? I chose you, okay?”

Your heart is finally lifting out of the hole. The dirt that you once sat in was growing fields of flowers, healing you. He’s lifting you out of the hole, stretching out his hand to grab you, closing the gap. “Okay…”

“I’m not saying I’m ready to be your perfect happy sweet boyfriend or whatever, okay? But there is no one else, and I’m sorry if you thought that.”

I’m sorry. The words you had been craving. He was owning up. It felt like a massive bandage across your heart. He might not be able to give you everything you needed, but this was becoming a fairytale. Sitting in this field with him was serene, healing, natural… 

It was your turn to apologize next. 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you. I should have trusted you.” You melt into his shoulder. 

“I shouldn’t have been such an asshole… Oh, and don’t worry, I’ll get you back for the yelling.” 

The sun is starting to set around you. This moment is pure bliss. It's soul-cleansing. He’s brought you to a space of his own, cleared his mind with you, cleared his conscience. It felt good to forgive him. 

“Do you want to come over to my place?” He asks, rubbing your shoulder. 

➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-

Taglist!: (I love and appreciate all of you for wanting to be on this)

@jakekiszkasbuttsweat @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @gretavansara @sanguinebats @awkwardlyamazing2000

[anonymoushouseplantfan]

Episode 4

Royal wedding montage. No, Samantha Cohen didn’t tell you some weird Rainbow Fish story. That did not happen. 

Voices of journalists talking about how amazing she is and how she is going to change the family for the better. I guess the royal coverage is good…as long as they say nice things.

“I don’t know how I was so calm.” Drugs, Meghan. It was drugs. 

Wedding crowds montage. Same song as Four Weddings and a Funeral because these two think they are living a rom com. Celebrities attending the wedding. International coverage. Amal and George and the Beckhams. Will and Harry. No one mentions that it was Wallis Simpson’s car. She didn’t talk about the “real” wedding three days before.

There was no expectation, Harry. You were supposed to get married in Craithie Kirk because you were a man of the people. That was the first story that came out.

CWK talks about the dress. Doesn’t mention the Commonwealth flowers in the veil. No mention of the tiara drama or the egg debacle either. 

Bold choice going with the vampire bride shot. Yes, KC was important to you Meg. He single-handedly saved your train wreck wedding. Lots of discussion about the Kingdom Choir and no one mentions that they perform at all the Commonwealth events. 

They sold their wedding pics, just like Peter. They are soooooo tacky. They laugh about cutting the cake with the sword. That wedding cake was truly symbolic, a priceless collection of gold pedestals propping up a mediocre confection. Her mom ditched her for the celebs. That is hilarious. Of course she did.

Interesting that Meghan hasn’t looked happy once during this whole documentary, but she sounds truly joyful when talking about the wedding. That was the highlight of her life. 

Kate’s face in the wedding pictures is everything. Says it all. I wonder if Meghan sold a Kate pic. I haven’t seen one yet. Never mind, I just rewound and, sure enough, she did.

Interesting how they are appropriating narratives—she’s a hugger, writing in a new character, modernizing—that were created by the tabloids. Every single word this Archewell guy is saying was written by Camilla Tominey, Andrew Morton, or Valentine Low. He is parroting the royal experts Harry was mocking last episode.

Train trip with the Queen. Why does she wear a necklace in some shots, but not in others? They are splicing different interviews and using filters to make it look line one interview. This section was edited into incomprehensibility after the death of the Queen.

Grenfell. LOL, she makes it sound like she was in the UK when the tragedy happened. Wild. I like the Grenfell ladies but why are they spending time on this and not covering her current charities? 

Bitching about Nott Cott, which actually looks super cute. “I don’t know who lived here before.” Your brother, the heir, lived there before, Harry. You know that.

 That’s how she decorated it? Pottery Barn circa 2001? No wonder her domestic goddess career never took off. All of this just to upgrade from 2000s Pottery Barn to 2014 Restoration Hardware? But….they weren’t living in Nott Cott. They rented a Cotswolds farmhouse before the wedding and lived there until moving to Frog Cott. That’s why all these pics are of them getting dressed. They were just using Nott Cott to prep for London events. 

Wait, did they just bitch about their multi-million cottage in Kensington Palace being too small right after the Grenfell segment? Yes, they did. Wow.

Pregnancy. She sold her sonogram pictures. Australia. You weren’t showing already, Megs. There was no bump. Cue shots with no bump. This is epic gaslight. We can clearly see she’s not showing, but they flat out say she was.

Lol, she wasn’t that popular. Her polls peaked at 41% net approval after the wedding and dropped like rocks. And Australia wasn’t the turning point, Lucy. It was her dad talking to the media all summer long. Isn’t Lucy Harper a pr person? Shouldn’t she be able to interpret polling data? Headlines about how popular she was…including the 2018 Time’s Most Influential List, which is hilarious because they were sandwiched between Donald Trump and Saudi Arabia’s MSB. Yeah, the royals were really jealous of that. OMG, they show Meghan’s covers and its…Woman’s Day and Hello! Canada. One of the headlines is “Freddy Mercury’s Secret Wife.” 

Wait, now he’s happy because the media put Meghan on the front pages? They have a very strange relationship with the media. Hold on, he thinks Meghan outshone The Queen? Seriously?????? He thinks the frumpy brocade dress outshone The Queen? I remember calling that a hater cover because Meghan looked so terrible in it. No one thought she overshadowed The Queen. Literally, no one. 

Archewell guy speaking again.  He seems to think that the royals, who were desperately trying to cover up the epic disaster of the Australian tour—which included insulting the Australian government house, exaggerating an incident with a faulty heater, assaulting an embassy employee, walking out of a United Nations event, making a staffer cry in front of a reporter, wearing jewelry gifted by an allegedly murderous despot, and trolling her father by saying he hadn’t paid for her college—were jealous of how “well” she did in Australia. This is delusional.

Lol, now they are bitching about avocados. It wasn’t the avocados. It was her dad. They just jumped from blaming the royals for the bad press to blaming racism. First The Queen was jealous, then the staff were scared, then the media was racist and giving Kate better press…I’m getting whiplash. Pick a villain, guys! I can’t follow this argument at all. The Queen was upset because Meghan stole her Woman’s Day cover with Freddie Mercury’s secret wife so she leaked stories about Meghan’s favorite perishable fruit and the evil tabloids turned that into the racialized avocados of death? Whaaaaaat????? I love how Harry throws up his hands and says “well, if you can’t see it, I can’t do anything for you.” See what? None of this makes any sense.

BTW, they used the “Hurricane Meghan” headlines even though Meghan told Oprah she hadn’t heard about that. The Oprah interview also implied she never knew about the bump-holding headlines and they used those in the documentary too. Oprah read them to her and Meghan acted as if it was the first time she was hearing about it. The only headlines Meghan, according to their statements during the Oprah interview, was supposedly aware of were the “made Kate cry story” and the avocado story, and she laughed at the avocado story.

Walkabout in Liverpool. A member of the public scolded her about her dad. See? The problem was her dad. Harry and Meghan, however, blame family lies and the tabloids. Her dad was giving interviews right and left, and people were watching him in real time, complaining about how he was treated.  No one in the palace was leaking this. No one was lying about it. He was out there, giving interviews to anyone with a couple of bucks because he wanted to explain that he did actually pay for her school. Her sister was doing the same thing.

And here’s the Diana 2.0 stuff. Wait, she was going to kill herself…over the racialized avocados of death? I paused to re-read the transcript of the Oprah interview because I remembered the suicidal ideation story as being a lot more sympathetic than “the Kate story and the avocados made me want to end it all.” In that interview, they start with the tabloid stories, but then Oprah asks her whether she felt lonely and she talks about Harry working all the time and being all alone. She talks about not being able to leave the house and see her friends and also about the tours being exhausting and having to smile through it all. She also claims there were talks about Archie not being a prince and not getting security and how that was stressing her out. Then she talks about people being concerned about Archie’s skin color and then she talks about her suicidal ideation. That kind of emotional build-up is what Oprah brings to the table. That’s why she gets the big bucks. Here, they just jump from “our Australian tour was super successful” to “mean tabloid stories about Kate and avocados” to “I just didn’t want to live anymore,” and it’s not as powerful, particularly since the behind-the-scenes pictures they keep showing us are all happy pictures. 

Also, we skipped over the big show of support at Sandringham.  And Doria can also do the “one tear, left eye” trick. It must be genetic.

She wasn’t allowed to get help? Girl, they knew you were nuttier than a fruitcake. They would have sent you to a shrink in a hot minute. And they weren’t afraid about how it would make the institution look. Harry admitted to going to therapy and it went fantastic. James Middleton went to therapy too. They put up pics of Megs looking sad…and they are all from events that happened afterwards.

The households separated because of leaks? Bullying isn’t even going to get mentioned? No, it isn’t, and neither is the big social media campaign KP did to support Meghan.

I’m blown away by the fact that all this drama is about a story about bridesmaids’ dresses. The Oprah Winfrey interview was motivated by this one story about making Kate cry. The Archetypes podcast was about the story about making Kate cry. They made a six-hour Netflix documentary about a story about making Kate cry. There is now an entire subgenre of royal coverage based on Princess Charlotte’s bridesmaid attire. This one story has been living rent-free in Harry and Meghan’s heads since Fall 2018.

Harry keeps talking about trading stories and not playing the game. He totally planted the Rose Hanbury affair story as revenge for the “made Kate cry” story. Absolutely,

Happy Nott Cott Christmas.  She wasn’t allowed to text photos? Lol, you weren’t texting photos bc you were saving them for Netflix.

People Magazine article. I guess these were the friends working with the magazines. Wasn’t their privacy super important? Weren’t they in danger if their identities were revealed? That was the argument that was presented under oath to the court. Now it turns out she was just saving the reveal for the Netflix special. Baby shower. OMG, Amal Clooney making floral arrangements, wtf? Backlash because of course. 

They are gifted Frogmore Cottage. Archie’s birth. Vintage footage about royal births. She had a long-standing relationship with her UK doctor? How? Seriously, how? They couldn’t do the photocell at Portland Hospital? Didn’t Fergie do it at Portland? Twice?

Birth announcement drama. The problem wasn’t that you broke protocol, Meghan. The problem was that CBS got the exclusive and you lied to the press about the birth. They bring in academics to say it was about racism because of course.

Archie. They took a picture of the nanny with the baby in a mud cloth carrier, lol.

South Africa with Archie. They couldn’t do a hospital photocall with the baby, but now they are taking him on tour. Doria just said “it’s not the institution’s baby, it’s her baby,” but they are taking him on an official tour. They can’t be expected to serve their child on a silver platter for literally two minutes, but they can take him on a week-long tour. I had to double-back and check the dates because I felt this wasn’t nearly as jarring and contradictory when it happened, and it wasn’t. The tour was several months after the birth and they had already taken the baby (who was supposedly too young to fly to Balmoral for the summer) to Ibiza. They way they presented it in the documentary, however, sounded ridiculous.

BTW, no coverage of the Vogue magazine, Smartworks capsule collection, the summer vacations at Elton’s house, the private planes, etc…. All of these were roundly criticized (well, not the Smartworks capsule) and yet the only story that matters is the Kate story.

Lol, the Archewell guy just admitted the royals were afraid Meghan would cause an international row during this tour. Not afraid that she would embarrass the royal family with her activism, noooooo. Afraid she would cause an international row.

Tutu. Wasn’t this footage intrusive two episodes ago? Make up your minds, guys! Tom Bradby. Is she trying to spin the interview as an oopsie due to exhaustion? Is she saying Tom tricked her? She really thinks people are stupid. Also, she takes no responsibility for anything, not even the Uber-narcissistic “I trusted too much.” She’s not even capable of that.

{Edited: Apparently Harry is doing another interview with Bradby. Guess he didn’t really trick them then.]

Astroturfed supportive hashtag. Guess her huge investment in Twitter bots paid off. LOL, my kid squints at the screen and says “all the tweets have the same timestamp.” Yes, they do.

Oh, the Diana footage is a bad idea. You can tell she was trying to act like Diana during the Africa interview (so much eyeliner). They really do think she’s Diana though, and they planned their tours (Australia, Africa, big meeting with African leader, big tour with baby) to bolster that impression. It’s interesting that worthy projects (Smartworks capsule collection, Vogue, Morocco girls’ meetings Ireland tour, dog shelter) that would make Meghan look good, but don’t support the Diana narrative are simply not mentioned. The India hygiene project is not featured in the documentary, but the Diana-like pictures in traditional dress are. 

You Don’t Own Me for closing credits. Hahaha. Harley Quinn music. So appropriate. The music in the last three documentaries is better than the music in the first three. 

Husband and group chat both discuss the Diana 2.0 stuff. She really thinks she is Diana and the documentary is trying to present her as Diana. Everyone agrees that she is no Diana. The psychologist thinks she should have worn more eyeliner. The lawyer tells her that eyeliner wasn’t the problem. There isn’t enough eyeliner in the world to turn her into Diana. Everyone thinks the music is good. Much texting about how much the tiny cottage cost. Someone looks it up on Zillow and it’s an insane number. Many “but my palace was sooooo small” jokes. Many comments about a KP cottage, no matter how small, being much classier than a California McMansion. Many comments about the Archewell guy sounding slimy. 

On to the next episode.

[theunvanquishedzims]

@batneko​ wrote a sugar daddy AU so I had to write one back.

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Bowser's longtime flame has officially tied the knot, she's shooting off fireworks to celebrate, she's leaving the country on a world tour honeymoon, she's taken out an actual literal billboard on the road between their cities to showcase the wedding photos

So Bowser's like hey, I'm not stupid, I can see you're over it, you don't have to rub it in my face, but he can't even say that because she's blocked him on everything

And he was GOING to hire a skywriter to spell it out over the wedding, but the skywriting company said there was a conflict with the fireworks company and they couldn't get clearance, and Bowser is halfway through checking his own plane to see if he can rig something up when he realizes hey, this is kinda pathetic

They are both extremely over-the-top people and it's hard not to escalate when you're both filthy rich.

--------

So Peach and Mario are off on a year-long world tour honeymoon, and Mario privately offered to let Luigi tag along, so he's feeling pretty pathetic himself.

And Mario SAYS they'll still run the business together, but Luigi has seen Peach's schedule as...governor? President? Monarch? And it's pretty packed, and Mario already has his own dedicated bodyguard from her retinue, and Luigi is picking up a lot more clearly than his brother how things are gonna change

For the better! Mario's gonna love the parties and meeting people and playing sports with actual athletes and driving sports cars on closed professional tracks against real racers, and he can fix a sink but he's got the brains to fix a city's infrastructure too. He's gonna do great.

And Luigi...Luigi will be fine. Really! One-man plumbing business. He can do this. Except other businesses are already poaching their customers on the premise that Mario is retired and the Mario Brothers will be shutting down, and the only way Luigi can counter that is by cashing in on his brother's fame to get people's attention. Which, no thanks.

So he's just come out of the tropical storm of wedding prep and parties exhausted and ready to take a break, but he needs to scramble as the business dissolves under his feet, and their house is paid off and bills should be fine but it's such a gut punch to see how easily his life crumbles without his brother, and Luigi is TIRED. Luigi wants a BREAK. Luigi wants someone rich and fun and good-looking to swoop in and take HIM on a vacation.

"Maybe I should get a rich husband to take care of me," he mumbles into the newspaper draped over his face, covered in ads for rival businesses and Peach's honeymoon tour.

And you know...that's an idea. That's a real idea. He's already been on blind dates, there's always somebody who has a gay nephew or cousin or coworker who would LOVE a tall strong man like Luigi, they're sure~! So what if he picks out his own guy? And if they don't click, he can just shrug it off as them not being rich enough for him. That's believable, there's enough photos of him at the palace and Mushroom-Wimbledon and Mushroom-Kentucky Derby to say he's developed a taste for the good life.

In all honesty, he HAS developed a taste for the good life. Not high teas and little cucumber sandwiches, but being able to drop everything and go to an island, or play a round of golf, or picnic in the countryside, or play Indiana Jones in desert ruins while Peach is off hobnobbing with local rulers. He had fun. And it would be even more fun if he wasn't tagging along after his brother, if it was someone doing those things for HIM, because they liked him and wanted to impress him and--and spoil him, he makes himself acknowledge. He wants to be spoiled. He wants to be...a sugar baby.

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

Cue montage! Luigi is a good looking fella, but he's also visually Green Mario, and the idea is to NOT leech off his brother's rep. The mustache goes. The overalls have already been retired. No more baseball cap keeping his thick wavy hair out of his face, no more sturdy waterproof work boots. He regrets getting rid of the mustache, and starts growing a five-o-clock shadow. Maybe he'll grow a beard, those are trendy.

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

That's the picture that pops up in Bowser's inbox as he sorts through correspondence.

 He's pulling back and being really honest with himself about what he actually wants. And honestly? Peach isn't it. Not anymore. It was a painful revelation, but a necessary one. She's not the same hyper-giggly cheerleader type he met in university, and he's not the party boy rugby jock he was back then either. He doesn't need a hot blonde girl on his arm to impress his teammates and stop any ugly rumors in their tracks. He doesn't need to beat anybody up for saying he's gay. And honestly, it was freaking exhausting trying to keep up with Peach's schedule when he was a young adult with just classes and games to worry about, now that's he's mumble-something years old and has his own country to run, he couldn't imagine trying to do half of the things she has packed into her schedule.

So...good for her. She got that guy who loves being social and making a bajillion new friends without being rude to them and can probably stay in the background and let her shine without it chafing, either. Good for her. He is genuinely happy for her.

He has a hard time conveying that to the cowering housekeepers as he finishes smashing the last of her portraits into bits, but he doesn't pay them to understand him, just obey him, so he tells them to sweep it up and stomps back to his office.

He needs more people like that in his life, he thinks, if he's being honest. He needs someone who won't argue him in circles or make him feel stupid debating political policy or hint that his family are tyrants. His family gets stuff DONE, okay, no need to go through six layers of wishy-washy old toads and delicately manage public image in the process. Say it and it is so, and the people will see that their needs are met and be grateful. That's the Bowser way.

 Romantically, what does he need? He makes a little list.

1. Hot.

2. No arguing.

3. No criticizing or trying to change him.

4. No pink or girly.

5. Just...hot okay? A hot dude. There, he said it. A hot dude he can take on dates who won't try to fix him, who won't think there's anything WRONG with him that needs fixing, somebody who can just be hot and pretty and hang around making him look good without getting in his way or trying to take over.

Ugh. He needs a Mario, that's what he needs, somebody to quietly stand around and smile at him and feed him cake. But way hotter. Way, WAY hotter.

 He quits glaring at Peach's wedding ads long enough to type out a basic list of demands and send it to a matchmaking service. (It's a sugar baby service, but he'll be damned if he calls it that.) He's not doing ANY work for this relationship. He's rich, he's powerful, he's reasonably attractive, he thinks? Got a bit of a gut since college but he's still got muscle. Whatever, he's got a castle and a fleet of cool cars and enough money to spoil the hell out of TEN thirsty twinks, whoever he picks can keep their mouth shut about his beer belly. No, he's going full Lizzo, he's not considering anyone unless they LOVE his body. He's rich enough to afford that.

He's all set to send that pic to his potential matches, but then Luigi's pic pops into his inbox, and he panics and switches. He's not trying to scare matches off, that would be self-sabotaging. And he's a fun guy, not some bum who gets drunk and passes out on a deck chair, that was ONE TIME and he was recovering from sunburn, you didn't need to snap a picture of it, guys. Whatever. Fun in the sun dad bod pic, that should be enough to reel in a boyfriend.

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

So. Bowser is a smart man, and the ruler of a kingdom. He does have bodyguards, and he designs most of his own security systems. The service will weed out the scammers, but he's investigating his matches himself, and Luigi is...not unknown to him. He's probably wildly unrecognizable to most people post-makeover, but Bowser was stalking Peach's wedding and has dossiers on everyone in the wedding party. He KNOWS what his ex-rival's brother looks like without a hat.

The only question is WHY. Is this a game? A joke? A sick trap? Why is he doing this?

"Why are you doing this?" is the first message he sends through the service.

And boy oh boy is that the question of the hour, Luigi thinks, staring at it. He has no idea who's he writing to, the...DADDIES are wealthy and important enough to warrant a bit of identity protection. He'll get a picture in advance of any meetings, but for now he's flying blind.

He's not gonna dump his whole life's story on a stranger, and he doesn't need to justify his decisions to anybody. He's not hurting for company, or money, so why is he doing this?

"I want to take a break and have fun with someone who can afford to take me nice places and do cool things" is what he decides on. It's true.

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

The rest is just them going nice places and doing cool things together. No drama, no schemes, no misunderstandings or second-guessing about why they’re there. Bowser pays for everything, and gives Luigi some spending money besides. Luigi works hard to relax and be sexy and flirty and fun. It helps that Bowser is so comfy to cuddle with, and actually taller than him, which is impressive.

He is vaguely aware that he is dating Peach's ex, he figures that out around the third date or so, but the guy is remarkably chill compared to how she described him, (and in this world Peach's security detail handled any incidents, there was no kidnapping (recently,) and the Mario brothers weren't heroes who needed to curb-stomp anyone, so Luigi has never met Bowser directly.)

Bowser is keenly aware that he is dating Peach's brother-in-law, but he works hard to relax, not obsess over anything, and just be cool and fun to hang out with. It helps that Luigi is super hot, a little goofy when he relaxes, and enjoys draping himself over Bowser while they lounge on the beach, or on a train ride through the mountains, or a tour of wine country. Lots of hot guy draped all over him while people stare enviously.

It's definitely envy, nothing to do with how Bowser just chugged half a bottle of merlot. He needed to wash the taste of that horrible rosé out of his mouth, okay? Who bottled that, a skunk? Horrible bouquet. Horrible. Luigi, buzzed and giggly and tucked up against Bowser's side staring at him adoringly, thinks Bowser is the funniest, wittiest guy in the world. They should definitely get out of there. The proprietors sell them a case of the merlot and gently suggest that the gentlemen switch to cheese tasting now, so they do.

Bowser's driver takes them on a long ride up the coast, and they have dinner at a beach chateau at sunset and listen to the cresting waves as the stars come out, and Luigi thinks this is exactly what he needed.

And Bowser just spent a long weekend out of his workshop and not buried in paperwork, and he's got some nice wine and stories to charm some diplomat who's visiting next week, and hey maybe Luigi can handle the charming and let Bowser do the diplomacy, or maybe he'll just sit at the dinner table eating fancy food and looking pretty while Bowser takes care of everything.

Man, it's good to be the king. Especially when you've got a doll like this by your side, cheering you on, waiting to see what you’ll do next. He needed this, this ego stroking and taking care of someone, showing off for them. Not running after a pink velvet track suit who's got a million clubs and committees and parties to coordinate. And wow, he hasn't thought about her in a while. A few days, at least. And he doesn't want to think of her now, under the stars, with a fuzzy face nuzzling his neck and strong hands slowly petting down his chest hair and over his belly. He's good. He’s good.

[i-mean-technically]

@tosho89 i got somethin' for ya

All the other kaiju are heading towards refuge for xyz reason while Goji is going the opposite direction to deal with the problem/be ornery? Anguirus overslept and was left behind by the herds when he comes across Godzilla and decides to just. Not leave him alone. Rodan is under the thrall of Ghidorah and is attacking an Iwi settlement with the other daiju. Jia’s mother jumps off a waterfall and plunges into the depths before any of the flying daiju can catch her.

(Meanwhile, Kong is traveling to look for his people, having been raised by the Iwi after his parents’ passing. When he returns he finds his old home destroyed and no survivors. He goes on a quest for vengeance against the kaiju who slaughtered his second family. He thinks it's Godzilla because those are the tracks he finds.)

Goji wants to leave the human child, humans are nothing but trouble and he can create enough of that on his own while Anguirus wants to return it to the nearby human settlement. When they arrive they find it freshly burned down. That’s when they encounter Rodan, who was tasked by Ghidorah to find the child and bring it to him, alive.

(Rodan: *skreeeeeeeeeek*

Godzilla: -glowing blue- *skreeeeeeeeoooooooooonk*

Rodan: -rethinking his life choices- um. That pink thing belongs to me

Anguirus: actually that pink thing belongs to us!

Rodan: i see! Can’t have children of your own so you decided to adopt)

Cue Epic Roadtrip Montage as they travel across the world to reunite the human baby with other humans, not realizing that Ghidorah is systematically destroying them so that humans can’t come to the aid of whichever kaiju is king. (wow much worldbuilding) ((the King is ofc Goji who doesn’t want to be king and is avoiding his responsibilities)).

Rodan is ofc leading them to Ghidorah and his merry band of psychopaths while Anguirus is having fun playing with Jia. (i want to say that Goji names her and i want to make it angsty hmmm) Along the way they run into another human child, this one older and mostly able to fend for herself. (Maddie ran away from her mother bc she’s helping Ghidorah and Maddie needs to find the King of the Monsters in order to save the world. Goji is very vehement that there is no King) Want to say shortly after this Kong shows up?????

Massive fight between him and Goji (both are the last of their kind, Goji being old enough to remember the Titan war while Kong was told about it by the Iwi), but eventually the others manage to break it up and the truth comes out that Goji Didn’t Do It. Kong learns that one survived (maybe change it a bit so that Kong was the one that hid her? He was there during the fight and was lured away/knocked out for a while and woke up to everyone slaughtered and his favorite missing).

Kong backs Rodan up about there being another human settlement through the mountains, Maddie claims to have been there (this girl will get someone to fight Ghidorah, and she’s now seen Goji go at it. If she has to trick them into it she will.)

btw the kaiju are still like. what they look like in the monsterverse but are closer to human sized. average human is around 6ft/2 meters tall so Goji is more like 13 ft/4 meters tall (i know that's not a perfect convertion i'm rounding ok)

and i'm seeing this as kinda a mix between like. feudal japan/europe for the humans timeframe wise, but kinda steam/solarpunk-y. maybe some minor magic?????? anyways there are titans and humans but it's not set in our world

[gond-wanaland]

its cophine brainrot hours

heres my cophine playlist. i cant stop thinking about them. so ill list all the songs and a very brief reason why the song was chosen

lovefool -- it's them it's in the show

just like heaven -- evelyne's favorite song...and also vibes...promise that i'll run away w you

i wanna be yours -- classic "secrets i have held in my heart" situation

lovers rock -- and if she grabs for your hand and drags you along. cue the lovefool scene.

always forever -- this is how i feel about them actually. delphine and cosima always forever.

heaven knows im miserable now -- they're so on/off..this song is for when they are off....

pink in the night!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! -- i know i've kissed you before but i didn't do it right can i try again &again&again etc oh my goddddd insert montage of them kissing

there is a light that never goes out -- to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die obviously of course

nostalgia -- delphine when she is trying to work on the inside and cosima is icing her out...ocean between us...

but not kiss -- to be honest their relationship is quite fraught so this is again when they are /off but still holding the love

all out of love -- they miss each other :(

baby can i hold you -- sometimes they just needed to talk..

head over heels -- theyyyy both fell fast as fuck

here comes your man -- this one is for aldous leekie

my love mine all mine -- screaming actually because of the scene where cosima finds out that she is dyad property + "nothing in this world belongs to me but my love" :sob:

fade into you -- <3 soft...they love each other....

be my angel -- this is cosima's angst

sunday -- they mystify each other fr fr

halah -- this is the scene when delphine sees cosima in season 3 outside of felix's apartment...maybe i hold you to blame for all the reasons you left..baby won't you change your mind...she doesnt wanna goooo

heaven -- delphine canonically heaven in cosima's mind

un autre vie -- had to include one of evelyne's own. but man! in another life!!

i miss you im sorry -- "i miss fighting in your old apartment" i always picture their first fight s1

wicked game -- oh nooo they can't fall in love it's too dangerous...i didn't think i would fall for my monitor/monitee.....

francis forever -- screaming. SCREAMING! "i dont need the world to see/that ive been the best i can be/but i dont think i can stand to be/where you dont see me" delphine esp s3 working behind the scenes at dyad to try and save them SCREAM

andromeda -- IF YOU THINK YOU CAN SAVE ME I'D DARE YOU TO TRYYYY

linger............. -- they're obsesssseeedddd with each other

take care -- cut to the million care taking scenes

good looking -- good looking boy = delphine. i thought i'd uncovered your secrets but turns out theres more....

i bet on losing dogs -- delphine fighting a losing battle for cosima :sobbing hard:

first love/late spring -- "please dont say you love me" it's painful

ok thats it. thanks. i'd love an edit of them to every single one of these songs if possible.

[emmatiedemann]

Gypsy(1962) Panel Presentation

How is the film related to the social context of the country during the film’s production?  

This film was released January first of 1962 at the start of the second wave feminist movement. Some of the second wave feminist movement’s concerns were unequal pay, employment discrimination, and issues of rape and domestic violence. It also urged a more general break from suburban life and rejection of the idea that women belong solely in the home. These ideas are evident in the film which places women at the heart of its story. More specifically, an extremely determined, complicated, authoritative, decisive, and passionate, unmarried woman. Her two daughters also display a sense of autonomy and conviction, aware of the role they play in providing their family with income by working at a very young age.

1962 was also in the midst of the civil rights movement, counterculture movement, and the Vietnam war. The film casts almost no people of color except for minor, tokenized roles. The musical itself is set in the early 1920s and documents the popularity and eventual death of vaudeville by the great depression. This musical’s depiction of the depression seems to call for national solidarity while its 1960s audience is spearheading the tumultuous and divisive counterculture movement.

In what ways are the performance spaces separated from the narrative spaces in the film?

Performance spaces are separated from narrative spaces with set design. Performance spaces are designated to a stage and take on the “performance within a performance” format where an implied audience is present and sets are colorful and extravagant. Narrative spaces are often more realistic looking in the film. Dreary, worn, and polluted. These narrative spaces are highly contrasted by the vibrant and showy sets, stages and costumes. These differences play a key role in the film's plot and tone. They show that the life Mama Rose creates for herself, her children, and Herbie is exhausting and difficult. Everything seems to be used up to fuel Rose's fantasy of fame and performance.

Narrative Space

Performance Space (00:38)

How is spectacle integrated into the film’s narrative? 

Spectacle is the film’s narrative. The plot depicts a pursuit of spectacle, through spectacle. Whoever dictates performance–who gets to perform, when and how– has the power. Louise and June are forced into performance by their mother and she determines who becomes a spectacle and how–forcing June to act young, forcing Louise to dress like a boy. Big producers and higher-ups in the industry however hold power over Mama Rose. This is seen in the musical number “Mr Goldstone” for example. At the end of the film, when Louise becomes Gypsy Rose Lee, she makes her own costumes and decides her own numbers. This transfer in “control over spectacle” is made evident by Rose’s frightened, angry, and heartbroken reaction to her daughter’s control and autonomy.

What is the role of dance and movement in relation to the film’s narrative and spectacle?

Repeated choreography helps to emphasize the overworked, overplayed nature of Mama Rose’s productions. The same choreography plays over the same musical cues over and over which helps the energetic numbers to read as sad and desperate rather than entertaining and lighthearted. Choreography also shifts to show the passage of time and changes in the character’s aspirations. For example, when Gypsy Rose Lee performs at the end of the film, her choreography references the type of spectacle she used to perform with her sister when they were young. This reference now that Gypsy Rose Lee performs at a burlesque club emphasizes the complicated and initially depressing trajectory of her career.

In what ways does impossibility within the film ensure the audience escapes from reality?

Time jumps and montages help the audience to escape from reality into Gypsy Rose Lee’s success. In the film, her slow rise to fame seems more immediate and satisfying. Similar to the structure of Show Boat, Gypsy shows most of the characters’ lives, from childhood to adulthood. The narrative’s treatment of time allows for impossible jumps that cut right to action and conflict and eventually success. This allows the audience to escape from reality and be “told a story”. Rose’s voiceover narration is another impossible element that contributes to this storybook escape for the audience. 

Bonus Video :)

Questions

Do you notice shifts in color palate in your film or other elements related to spectacle? What do these changes tell the audience about the narrative?

Is dance and choreography gendered within the film? If so, how?

How are power dynamics explored through spectacle? What’s the relationship and hierarchy between performer and audience, on-stage and off stage?

[azfellandco]

Actually here is my wish for s3

opening montage. it’s [however many years it takes for s3 to be released] years later. “I Want To Break Free” is playing over a camera shot over Whickber Street. Muriel in the bookshop. Nina and Maggie in their shops. The other humans in their shops. Life moves on as normal. As lyrics come in we cut to Aziraphale in Heaven absolutely fucking miserable doing something boring and tedious and necessary to a high up leadership position, like trying to schedule a meeting for ten people who have wildly conflicting schedules. Visible cues that nothing in Heaven has changed, if anything they’ve changed Aziraphale— he’s dressed like any other angel now. Cut to Crowley driving around in the Bentley. Plants conspicuously absent from the backseat. He looks unhappy in the same worn down way Aziraphale does. Cut to Tadfield and The Them, where Adam is getting ready to go off to university. Montage ends abruptly on Crowley switching off the radio and getting out of the Bentley somewhere new (don’t ask me where, I have no idea. Maybe he just took a roadtrip to go to the cliffs and stare out at the sea, idk).

[sizzleissues]

I liked the movie - it was enjoyable, I like seeing cinematic fanfiction of my favourite guys. The animation was gorgeous, the songs were bops, the lighting was a stand out and it had subtleties to the story and art that can be analysed. Saying that, was it great? No.

The plot was a bit jumbled so now allow me to fix it in some small ways because I don’t know how to shut up.

The Opening of the movie works well. It establishes Marinette as far too anxious to stand up for herself. She is a character who at this point doesn’t see herself as worthy of anything more. She sings her song about ‘what if I was confident, what would I do’ but she doesn’t make a move to be confident after it, she doesn’t believe she can be at the moment.

I’d have Alya already be her friend but Marinette doesn’t realise it (Again she’s anxious and feels worthless). Maybe a line like ‘You don’t have to stick up for me anymore, Alya, we’re no longer project partners.’ And Alya rebuffs her saying ‘Girl, you’re my full time project. I’m sticking with you.”

(This goes on - continues below cut to save your dash)

She bumps in Chloé again and runs away, like in the movie, and finds Adrien in the library. The only thing I’d change in that interaction is Adrien pulls her away from some falling books rather than helps her stand afterward. Adrien is then demonstrating his kindness and his heroic qualities. Marinette develops her crush. I like the fact the book that Marinette holds in the movie has a cat on it, foreshadowing as you call it, Adrien’s role, so a fallen book would be shown to have cat on it as Adrien puts them away. He asks offhandly is she’s alright, Marinette buffers, getting out word soup and he leaves. Noting her strangeness like in the movie.

Marinette getting her miraculous works already so it’s just Adrien’s I’d change. I’d have him be at the theatre still, notice the strange light and a cat stuck in a bucket. Once he helps it out, he see’s the ring. Again, he’s kind and curious so he helps the cat. He’s already got his saviour moment earlier but this helps further it.

Ladynoir’s first fight works already and the denial stuff later so our next change comes at the fair. Instead of deciding to be Ladybug again, Marinette runs at first from danger but see’s her father in trouble (or Alya and Nino) has her song and saves him. He’s like ‘You are so brave - like my daughter. Is she alright?’ Ladybug’s like ‘Anyone is brave with a mask, random citizen I do not know. Your daughter is safe, trust me’ and leaves him somewhere safely. Cue second Ladynoir fight which again works.

We montage and I’m not smart enough to figure out an alternative to it that isn’t just more movie run time. I’d have moments of Marinette helping her friends like when she talks to Adrien about his mom interspersed through the Ladynoir bonding. Her succeeding at gymnastics and her classes is one way the movie demonstrates how she’s growing in confidence but I think just one moment of her with Alya, talking like friends at a crossing and she saves her from oncoming traffic or something like that. She’s more than just more confident as Marinette now, she’s heroic and capable in her everyday life.

Pretty much everything up to the final battle works for me, that’s where I’d make some bigger changes while keeping the ending. Theme and character arc talk first though.

Our running themes at the moment are still ‘stronger together’ from the unchanged Ladynoir bits and ‘don’t let fear stop you’ as Marinette’s lesson to learn. There’s also the other message I see the movie attempted with Marinette still not feeling as confident without the mask. That’s why I have the line above, to try to strengthen it before it’s brought up in the finale. Also maybe add in something after Adrien rejects her that ‘No one would reject Ladybug but everyone rejects Marinette’ as she mopes about it. Adrien and Gabriel’s lessons are a lot to do with love. Adrien opens up through loving Ladybug and Gabriel succumbs to a toxic love to his wife at the cost of his son. His resolution would still be realising in a physical way, not just mentally, he’s hurting Adrien with his fruitless pursuit.

We have our third act break up kinda with the finale fight. They aren't working together to be stronger together. Chat Noir goes off to fight Hawkmoth, leaving behind Ladybug. The fight results in the Eiffel's Towers destruction - but from something Hawkmoth does, not Chat Noir. Ladybug is trapped by debris, Hawkmoth approaching and Chat realises the error of his way. He saves her by discovering his cataclysm to free her and they have an exchange like this while it happens. Ladybug, "You came back, I thought you were mad at me?" And Chat Noir "I can never be mad at you. It's like what you said, were stronger together. Even if we can't be together together. I will always save you. Cataclysm" or something like that.

They fight together against Hawkmoth but he's stronger. She fails and her miraculous is stolen. With that added power Chat Noir doesn't stand a chance. It's looking like they'll lose, Chat Noir near unconsciousness in Hawkmoth's grasp and Marinette tossed to the side. Marinette is defeated as she believes she’s nothing without the mask and she doesn’t even have the security of the earrings anymore. She looks around at a destroyed Paris, seeing what it used to be and the people she knows are possibly hurt or gone.

At the point Marinette as herself has saved Master Fu’s life, bettered her friends lives and demostrated courage as her civilian form, she just hasn’t realised it yet. I think the film attempted this parallel as her saving of Chat Noir by grabbing him mirrored her saving of Master Fu. But I think more can be done to hammer it home.

She turns from seeing the destroyed Paris to seeing Chat Noir in trouble, his transformation deteriorating. Like how she as to act as Ladybug to save her father (or Alya and Nino.) and act as Marinette to save Master Fu, she acts as someone between both her timid old self and her confident alter ego to save Chat Noir. She drags him away, getting the ‘don’t touch him’ line there instead.

Hawkmoth has no reason to recognise Marinette but as she drags Chat Noir away, his transformation fails. Hawkmoth sees its his son lying there unconscious and realises the error of his ways. Seeing this as a private moment, Marinette scuttles away with the discarded butterfly. Adrien completes his arc by opening his heart back up to his father who’d pulled away, forgiving him for the harm he’s done. Something in their exchange that Marinette can still hear sparks an idea in her. Love.

As she hands back the butterfly miraculous to Master Fu, she asks if he’d known who Hawkmoth was when choosing Adrien. Master Fu says somethings can never be known, that the miraculous work in mysterious ways and maybe that’s why Adrien was the perfect candidate. Their familial love was what was needed, that more than just Hawkmoth was defeated today. A broken family was healed. She then asks what about Paris and Master Fu reminds her of her miraculous’s main power. Creation.

Putting this together with her realisation that love heals, she discovers the cure.

The ending would go the same except I WOULDN’T CUT BEFORE THE KISS. I’d also add as Marinette pulls up to the ball she’s watching a video press conference and while we can’t hear what’s being said, it’s Gabriel speaking with ‘public apology for wrongdoings, fines to go to charity as a tagline’. Realistically since Marinette had fixed the damage to Paris and Gabriel is rich, a slap on the wrist is all he’d get.

There are issues with my take most likely but writing this has also helped me better understand the movie and appreciate it more. You could also completely rework the movie from the ground up but I wanted to make it stick to what they were going for with things I’d think would held the messages of love, stronger together and conquering fear being more clear.

Anything I didn’t mention that happens in the film is something to keep so read this with the understand those scenes still happen. These are just changes to certain bits. Also I’d take out Plagg farting and use that time to further Adrien’s loneliness, detachment for his father and also how he starts to move past his pain and open up to Ladybug, Marinette and even Nino. (That’s something I forgot to mention.) He’d talk to Plagg about this stuff and Plagg would act similarly to his show counterpart, being aloof and cheese obsessed but giving Adrien the ear to finally vent things to and a way to show he is feeling more open.

Anyways I want to say again I love the movie as a fan, but I can see its issues. The show has the advantage of being able to run for long enough that its patches of confusing writing can be corrected later. The movie had to get it right first try. I do like what they did with the character’s, but again I said it somewhere else; They’re different interpretations of the base concept of Parisian heroes that both the show and movie stem from. One isn’t necessarily better than the other or render the other pointless. And I’m not here to discuss that debate.

[lazlolullaby]

wish rewrite but Queen Amaya has a minor influence on the plot, aka: Divorce arc! + Bonus song context changes

(it sucks that a person with so much potential was put in the story but just utilized as the Villain's sounding board. You could have replaced her with an animal sidekick! She could have been a classic evil cat! Anyway.)

Tl:Dr: Amaya and Magnifico's relationship is utilized more in the movie for both plot and character development.

Plot: the same but Amaya is having a mid life crisis and relationship issues with Magnifico, giving them both more depth than "childhood trauma made me a control freak + evil book possession" and "I'm the indicator that something is going wrong with my husband".

(tw: verbal and emotional abuse tactics.)

Movie opens on a book. It's not adorned or flashy, just a simple journal. Amaya is writing in it, narrating.

Teen Amaya arriving on a boat with a small group of people. She looks up, enraptured by the stars but no one else does and she's left alone. There's no voice, but you can see that she says "I wish". Then someone calls for her and she leaves. The next night Magnifico appears from the forest, performing magic.

Then we get "City of Rosas" montage going through years. Amaya as the singer, giving the tour. You see the 7 friends interact with her as quick help, then Asha pops up, first next to Amaya then taking over the tour guide spot.

There's a quick establishing walk around the Castle. Amaya checking in on the 7, the servants and people. Everything is going well! The Castle is humming along perfectly! Amaya doesn't need to lend a hand, or explain what's needed. She's a bit of a workaholic and doesn't know what to do with herself.

She ends up in the kitchen with the 7 and Asha. Dahlia gets a check in, her new medication is working well so she's just got her crutch today instead of a full wheelchair. Asha is told "you care plenty, but don't let it blind you." Asha is the one who says that her grandpa Sabino is having his 100th birthday. And wants his wish granted.

Simon is sleepy, everyone is concerned. Amaya excuses herself.

She goes to Magnifico. "Mi rey. You need to give Simon's wish back. He's not well."

"You mean grant it? what do we need Knights for? We're perfectly safe!"

And with Sabino - "there's nothing that needs changing! I'm all the inspiration the Kingdom needs!"

There's hints that Magnifico doesn't like people too much. "we have to keep these safe. They are the best parts of our people." Implying that he just likes what he can choose and control out of people.

And cue "At all costs" as a duet between Magnifico and Amaya. Starting as a love song addressed to Amaya, but then his focus shifts to the Wishes. Her face falls as she realizes that he won't do what she asks. And she leaves.

(what happens when your picture perfect life falls apart? When the job you have chosen, put your whole body and soul into, doesn't need as much time or effort? When the person you love, that you have partnered with for over several decades, doesn't have the same goals you do anymore? Doesn't value you like they used to?)

Only to find Asha was eavesdropping the whole time. "Wait. Are you. Having an argument? I thought you were happy?"

"we are. It's just difficult right now. It's a disagreement. We're fine."

Cut to Asha in the kitchen gathered with the 7. "They are not fine." So. Lighthearted scheme to get the Queen and King back in love by setting up a romantic date.

The lunch date fails. Amaya asks questions, probing more into Magnifico's self serving logic. He launches into "This is the Thanks I get?" (Less of a solo tantrum, more of a mocking dialogue between them.) And shuts her down. Amaya is stricken.

"if they break up, who gets the Wishes? Who's in charge? I don't think divorce is a thing that Royalty goes through!"

They retreat - Magnifico to a wish granting and Amaya to the kitchen. Asha wants to convince Amaya to keep going, keep pushing for the wishes.

"Has he always been like that?"

"Magnifico - oh he always wanted an audience. He hasn't changed since the day we met. He was fun. We needed that support, people who believe in him, in our rule. back then, when there were so many unknowns."

"But it's not back then anymore. We deserve our wishes. Maybe if we can show him that a dangerous wish won't be so bad, he'll come around!"

"Asha, don't tell me-"

"my Grandfather Sabino! He just said wanted to play the lute, right?"

"not exactly..." Amaya felt the true nature of the wish, to inspire.

"what more time does he have! My father already lost out on his wish! I'm not letting anyone else lose!"

"this is what I can do. For now. Go home."

"I can't wait for this change. Until I'm 18? Then what? I'm just supposed to give up my wish like everyone has? Be like Simon?"

Amaya doesn't have an answer to that. Asha goes home. She talks to her family and has her solo "This Wish" song.

The Star shows up. But as in the concept art, it's a mute boy! He starts the animals singing "You're a Star" - and eventually joins in once he gets the hang of talking. "Here I are!" Is his first line.

Once that's over, Star explains. "The Stars grant Wishes. Sometimes they come down to help out personally. But that was a while ago. I want to find them, but you're the first person in a long time to make a wish on a star." They make a plan to release the Wishes themselves.

Meanwhile, Magnifico and Amaya see the light show from Star coming to the Kingdom. Amaya has vague recognition, Magnifico is mad. "Absolutely not. No one is stealing my Wishes from me."

Amaya takes this time that he's distracted to find Simon and Sabino's wishes. She sings a solo version of "Knowing what I know now" with more personal touches and she sends the wishes down the dumbwaiter.

Asha sneaks Starboy into the Castle. Gets her friends to help. They open up the dumbwaiter and find the wishes. Simon gets his back, starts to feel better. Asha grabs Sabino's and runs.

Magnifico starts to build up power. He gathers the town and tells them that there's a rogue magic user on the loose.

Asha brings the wish to Sabino. And he immediately starts to inspire people to question Magnifico. (Seriously. That was the easiest thread to follow through. And it didn't happen!!! What- who dropped the ball?)

Asha regroups with her friends. Does the full "knowing what I know now" song. Runs away to distract Magnifico while her friends release the wishes.

Star looks at Amaya - "your wish wasn't granted. There's a trick to it, if you want to hear." Amaya looks sad again.

Big courtyard confrontation. Magnifico has been absorbing Wishes to get more power.

"I haven't granted my first wish. A lot of them, actually. I won't leave." Magnifico stands his ground.

"unless I retract it."

"you won't." Magnifico laughs. "Who would love you? You're past your prime, far too bossy-"

"You. Wanted love?" Asha asks.

"I was younger than you are. I had lost everything. When I came here and looked at the stars, I thought I could have anything I wanted. And I wanted love. After everything that happened, I wanted love. That was only mine. But not like this."

"we love you. We see you. Even if you can't do magic or fix everything. We love you." Asha and the 7 say to Amaya.

So she reaches into Magnifico, pulling out her wish herself. Everyone sees that and starts to pull theirs from Magnifico.

And it leaves him as a slip of a silvery man. Star taps on him and Magnifico turns completely into his silver white star form. "That's where you've been!"

"so Stars can't stay on earth for too long or they'll go mad?"

"pfft. No. It's just this guy. C'mon let's get you some perspective." And Star takes him away into the sky.

It fades into a picture that Asha is drawing. Her and Amaya are making a book to explain what happened.

Amaya narrates the ending, telling us that it doesn't really end.

The 7 friends and Asha are made apprentices to Queen Amaya. Amaya starts to give the Wishes back, setting people up to achieve their dreams. Star pops back to say hi and go and grant more Wishes.

The handwritten book closes and Amaya stamps "Wish" on the cover with leather tools.

The end

[happy-lemon]

Cue "Eye of the Tiger" and a learning montage!

Mason took a leave of absence from his job so he and Mara could devote all their time to teaching the babies to walk, talk, and use the potty. Sometimes it felt more like they were running a daycare, and many days they passed each other like ships in the night. Fortunately, Erika and Dylan had already mastered everything before the triplets arrived, so Mason and Mara worked with Noah first, then teamed up to teach the triplets.

Tips for multiple toddlers:

1. Around the Sims 3 toddler beds will save your life. They can be assigned, so each baby knows where to go when they're sleepy. Cheaty, but it gets the job done.

2. Skip the high chair. Those kids will have a whole lifetime eating solid food. Feed the babies a bottle on the floor.

3. A morning routine of snuggle, change diaper, change clothes, and feed on floor will keep their meters in the green long enough for Mom and Dad to eat and get showered.

4. The learn to walk alone mod is super useful. Walkers are cute, but who has time to get the babies in and out? Also kind of cheaty, but letting them learn to walk on their own frees up Mom and Dad to work on potty training and learning to talk.

5. Have a lot of skill building toys on hand so any babies who aren't being actively taught to walk or use the potty will gravitate toward learning something.

[tragicolada]

Sometimes i get these random au ideas that make no sense and yall have to bear with me.

Shapeshifting Fragmentum Monster Sampo

What if Sampo is a fragmentum creature that learned how to shapeshift? (cause i find the idea of him actually shapeshifting instead of doing a constume change interesting, and lets be real, nothing about that man is normal.)

and his fragmentum form is a giant snake (you cant comvince me that his clothes does not scream snake somehow)

cause heres the thing, we got the daily that tells us to put fragmentum echos to rest. what if sampo is actual a fragmentum echo that manifested and escaped to belobog (i like to think he ended up somewhere around robot settlement) and somehow learned how to be human and shapeshifting into something resemplimg a human? but not quite there. (Cue him getting into questionable situations like any child would be.) And i like to think he somehow gets adopted by a masked fool that was on belobog cause why not? It sounds hilarious to them.

After on training montage and teaching a giant snake man who figure out how human limbs worked and how to count, they let him go ham while reminding him that people dont like monsters (they didn’t teach him stealing is bad, but worded it as playing a game. baby needs his enrichment.) So he steals, causes chaos, doesn’t kill cause he doesn’t have an instict to hunt (somewhere a man thanks the aeons that sampo doesnt know how to maim people) And generally becomes the local nuisance, and it drives the silvermanguards and everyone else insane.

Although eventually he lands with Natasha and wildfire, and he may or maynot instictually think of them as a family. (he has one of the meanest glare possible but nobody needs to know that) so he like to help them out with everything. And the children teach him how to play actual games like hide and seek. (cue him figuring out stealing is not a game when hook started scolding him about that.) He changes to stealing from bad people and selling people what they want. (everyone thinks he’s scamming but in reality he’s somehow truthful, it’s the people who asked are the liars.)

Then he meets gepard and they play tag! And this goes on for a long time until trailblazer thing happens and belobog is now free from the stellaron.

So everything looks normal until then. but what if someday the was a fragmentum breach and there were monsters going on a rampage attacking the robot settlement, everyone is panicking and screaming. There’s an elite fragmentum boss running amok, and since it’s a formidable foe, everyone is struggling to survive. And suddenly they hear a roar out of nowhere, making everyone and thing pause for a moment before a giant snake starts thrashing these monsters to who knows what version of the afterlife. And when it’s all over, the man goes and hide as to not to expose his identity of being a fragmentum monster.

Cue lynx finding out about this mysterious caveman and monster roaming around. And cue gepard going on a wild chicken chase trying to catch this monster, he fully knows that the caveman is sampo, but the monster is a threat to belobogs safety. Somehow along the way clara finds a cave where sampo rests in, at first she’s scared but sampo is like a scared puppy which kinda ends up with clara conforting sampo and naming him ‘mr scaly’. Gepard on a whim hears clara talk about ‘mr scaly’ and kinda leads him to sampo in his snake form chilling in his cave. At first he’s like afraid that this big monster sanke was going to kill them, but then he sees that the snake has some of sampo stuff and thinks the worse. (aww, gepard loves him and worries dpfor him) So sampo is forced to shift and tell the truth. Mixed feeling but eventually comes to an exceptance and new shenanigans happen.

A bunch of things happen cause nothing is normal with sampo, but life is still the same.

The end.

[curioussubjects]

Ok so I have some spnwin-spn connection spec I wanna share with y'all from back when @alwaysanoriginal were spiraling over some interview about The Winchesters (as we do). The second to last question is about John's journal being created, which of course made me think of plot hole vampmimes. Of course.

Or maybe not so plothole-y?

That was mostly a joke, though I did hope tonight was going to maybe for the lolz address that. Well, little did I know because that old convo continued with this:

DOES THIS REMIND YOU OF ANYTHING YOU WATCHED TONIGHT

DOES IT

Char, then, decided to come for me in the night and point out that the Running on Empty montage in 19 has some pretty choice scenes featuring Changing Channels, Wayward Sisters and the AU rift, Dean time traveling, and The Heroes' Journey (which I always argued was essentially the intended finale metaphorically).

Side note: sorry to expose y'all to my private ravings lol

A lot of this actually comes back to a point Billie made in s15 about Chuck building reality with himself at the center to keep it ticking. So how can you possibly beat him? By letting him think he won. I can't help but remember that delightful line from Dean in s12: "‘Cause we’re not trapped out here with you. You’re trapped out here with us." You know, that one time Dean and Sam pulled a death gambit to escape a black ops site.

But back to The Winchesters: last week we had Carlos refusing to play Loki's game (a god who can affect reality, or one's perception thereof) and winning. But to do so, he had to put his life on the line. He had to be willing to lose everything. By the way, I am once again feeling very emotional about Carlos saying he sacrificed everything for hunting, but he gained so much more because that's it! That's the thing! So yeah...cue Carlos singing Hard Times Come Again No More to his family.

This week John is the one with the seemingly inescapable fate of death (courtesy of vampires because of course), and while he doesn't tap out of the game, he realizes he knows nothing about the context of what he saw. He only got half the story, and the rest was up to him. It's appropriate, too, that this week we get another Supernatural classic with Mary reassuring John that they will find another way. And yeah, John does and wins.

And, I mean, if we're talking fate and god and gambles, why not remember a nifty piece of advice Sam and Dean received from Fortuna in The Gamblers: “Don’t play his game. Make him play yours.”

My point is if we look at 19 and 20 much like we would a vision from an amulet, none of the plot of Supernatural needs to change. It's fated. But as Millie says, and John says, and Dean say: fate is what you make it. And if The Winchesters is about how Sam and Dean became the Winchesters, then what else is this show but the context we've been missing all along.

(send this man to stan jail tbh)

[also what is more Winchester stupid than the cosmic consequences of saving your family...like...say...releasing the Darkness or...causing an Akrida infestation...though who knows that could've been on purpose for reasons. I'm putting nothing past spnwin.]

Don't ask me how Dean goes from pulling a death gambit to get into heaven to time travelling to tweak with his parents' past. We're through the looking glass here people and we'll simply have to wait and see -- but the puzzle is for sure getting less mysterious. Something free will, knowledge, family, and Growth, something. Therapy. You know, The Winchesters.

Or I'm totally off the mark and I'll have egg for face who's to say, but for now, as a treat, I'm feeling very