#Beyond the Curtain of Space - Episode 1

[kwebtv]

From the Golden Age of Television

Series Premiere

Rocky Jones, Space Ranger - Beyond the Curtains of Space Part 1 - Syndicated - February 23, 1954

Science Fiction

Running Time: 30 minutes

Written by Warren Wilson

Produced by Guy V. Thayer Jr.

Directed by Hollingsworth Morse

Stars:

Richard Crane as Rocky Jones

Scotty Beckett as Winky

Sally Mansfield as Vena Ray

Robert Lyden as Bobby

Maurice Cass as Professor Newton

Leonard Penn as Ranger Griff

Charles Meredith as Secretary Drake

Guy Prescott as Darganto (as Frank Pulaski)

William Hudson as Ranger Clark (as Bill Hudson)

[lutherfordd]

Here it is finally. After some time I've finally finished the first episode of my new novel.

Bright Stars

Episode 1: First Sparks

The warm light of the morning sun peeked through the curtains, gently brushing against Finn's face. Outside, the world was alive with the sound of birds chirping, a reminder that the day had begun. Normally, Finn would’ve already been up, buzzing with energy. After all, today was supposed to be special—his first day at Lightwood University. But sleep hadn’t come easily for him. Finn had spent the entire night too excited, his mind racing with thoughts of what the day might hold. It wasn’t until after 3 a.m. that he finally drifted off.

“Finn!” A voice echoed through the walls, jolting him from his sleep. “You’re late for school! When are you planning to wake up?” His mom barged into his room, a mix of worry and impatience on her face. Finn scrambled out of bed, the panic of the moment crashing down on him.

He dressed in record time, grabbing whatever clothes were closest. There was no time for breakfast as he dashed out the door, his heart pounding as fast as his legs. A couple of near-miss accidents later, Finn found himself standing at the front of Lightwood University. He stopped for a moment, catching his breath, and let out a deep sigh. It was both a sigh of relief and one of nerves. After collecting himself, he finally stepped beyond the school gates.

Despite the chaos of his morning, Finn’s first day wasn’t that bad. He didn’t seek attention, and for the most part, he was content just observing people, watching them socialize. That was enough for him. Finn wasn’t the type to strike up conversations or put himself in the spotlight. He could only dream of having the courage to do so one day.

Before he knew it, the morning had flown by, and it was already break time. Finn spent most of his break wandering the campus, eager to explore his new surroundings. There was one place he wanted to find more than anything—the library. And without fail, he found it.

The moment he stepped inside, he felt at peace. The smell of books, the quiet atmosphere—it was perfect. Finn knew most people didn’t find a school library that exciting, but for him, it was a sanctuary. He walked along the shelves, admiring the variety of books, until one section in particular caught his eye. Space—his favorite. His hand instinctively reached for a book about the universe, but at the same time, someone else’s hand was already on it.

Competitive as always, Finn pulled with all his might, determined to claim the book. He barely noticed the soft tug from the other side. With a final yank, the book came free, but it was immediately followed by a loud thud.

“Ow,” a soft voice groaned. “That hurt.”

Finn froze, realizing what had happened. He peered around the shelf, and sure enough, there was a girl sitting on the floor, surrounded by scattered art supplies. Her sketchbooks and pencils were strewn across the aisle.

“Oh! I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean it,” Finn stammered, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him. He hurried around the shelf and offered his hand to the girl. “Are you okay?”

The girl blinked up at him, rubbing her head. "Guess I lost that one," she said with a wry smile. She took Finn’s hand and pulled herself up with a casual grace. Once she was on her feet, she brushed off her clothes, not seeming too bothered by the situation.

"I'm really sorry!" Finn repeated, quickly bending down to gather her art supplies. "I didn’t mean to pull so hard."

"Relax," she chuckled, kneeling down to help him. "It’s just a book. You looked like you were ready to wrestle for it, though."

Finn’s face turned red as he handed her the last of her sketchbooks. "I—I wasn’t trying to—" he stuttered. "I just really like space."

The girl—Ren, as Finn would later learn—stood up, tucking her supplies under her arm. She gave him an amused look. "Space, huh? That’s cool. I don’t usually see people fighting over this section."

"Yeah, not a lot of people are into it," Finn relaxed a bit, though his heart was still racing. "I didn’t mean to take it from you."

Ren shrugged, a grin playing on her lips. "Well, you won fair and square. But I’ll let you off the hook—this time."

"Thanks," Finn said with a small smile. "I’m Finn, by the way."

"Ren," she replied, her tone casual, like they had known each other for years. She glanced at the book he was holding. "So, space stuff, huh? You into all the universe, black holes, alien life kind of thing?"

Finn perked up at the question. "Yeah, all of it. I just like how huge everything is. It makes everything we deal with here seem... small, you know?"

Ren nodded, her eyes glinting with understanding. "Yeah, I get it. The stars, the galaxies... it's like anything could be out there." She balanced her sketchbooks under her arm. "I’m more into creating other worlds, though." She gestured toward her art supplies. "I draw them instead of reading about them."

Finn glanced at her open sketchbook, spotting detailed drawings of planets and strange creatures. "You’re really good."

"Thanks," Ren said, brushing off the compliment. "But next time, I’m getting the book."

Finn chuckled, a warmth spreading in his chest. For the first time that day, the nerves that had gripped him since morning began to fade. "I’ll keep that in mind."

Before Finn could say anything else, the bell rang, signaling the end of break. Ren stood up straight and gathered the last of her supplies.

"Well, see you around, Space Boy," she said with a playful grin as she headed toward the library exit.

Finn stood there, clutching the book to his chest, watching her leave. Ren was... different. And for the first time today, he didn’t feel quite as alone. Maybe this school year wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Remember Me, Special Dreams

Part III.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25

GIF: Originally posted by @ravenclairee​​​

Summary: Self-insert. You're having trouble with recurring night terrors and Morpheus pays you a visit. (Title from the lyrics of Placebo’s Special Needs)

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of night terrors.

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Hello Tumblr peeps. I’ve had another parasomnia episode since I posted last. This time I thought there was a crack in the ceiling above my bed and there were gelatinous things falling through. Such fun! Hope you enjoy this chapter, please let me know what you think, and also if you want to hear more about my night time hallucinations. Have a great day, Saskia

Sandman Masterlist

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

You resurface with a nervous energy humming in your bones. You are lying on your side, facing the curtain shrouded window. Thick crusts of sleepy dust have accumulated along your lower lash lines and in the corners of your eyes. You rub them away carefully with an index finger.

A siren wails outside. Your stomach rumbles loudly. Rhythmic ticks emanate from the wristwatch that sits on your bedside table.

There is no doubt that you are awake now.

You exhale shakily, successfully dispelling a single ounce of tension. You immediately feel less anxious, and your following inhales and exhales provide further relief.

That was some dream.

You begin to piece the sections together. Night terror into hallucination, into dream... into whatever the heck that was at the end.

It was a complex beast, but so was your life right now. You were now up to 8 days in a row of these parasomnia episodes. It was getting silly now, you knew this, and you were tired beyond measure, yet you were completely unable to get sustained rest without some kind of subconscious interruption. 

And with your emotions in constant overdrive and showing no signs of letting up, you were certain that they were going to continue for a little bit longer. 

A frustrated huff of air escapes your lips; you know your swirling mind will stop you from getting back to sleep for a while now.

Your thoughts drift back to your mind-conjured images of the beautiful Dream Man with the ethereal voice. He was a whole other breed of night terror. 

You wonder if perhaps you are losing your grip on reality and if a visit to the GP was in order. It was a task for tomorrow though, as there was no way you could make contact in the middle of the night.

You roll onto your back and realise that your lamp is on. You guess you must have fallen asleep again before getting a chance to switch it off after the hallucination part of your night.

You turn another 90 degrees, further towards the warm glow that pervades the space around you. By this point, the energy saving bulb has heated up enough, not only to successfully cast light across your whole mattress but also illuminate the face of the 'Dream Man' who is sitting on the chair across the room.

"Oh fuck!" You exclaim, recoiling away from him.

Your heart rate picks up like a sprinter off the starting blocks.

The man holds his hands up, palms facing you in a show of peace.

His voice rumbles with the same rainstorm-like quality as it did before.

"I will not hurt you. You have my word."  

You're not listening to him in the slightest though. Your chest is pounding painfully and you are worried you may vomit. A stream of consciousness falls from your lips instead.

"You're real. You're fucking real. Fuck! And I'm wearing next to nothing. Fuck!"

You're looking down at your bare legs peeking out from the tousled covers and hastily rearrange them to regain some dignity.

You look back to him and fix him with an accusatory stare.

"You have some serious explaining to do."

"I agree. Where would you like to begin?"

Your eyes drift off to the left as you try and choose.

You know that you should probably start with something like ‘why are you here?’ or ‘how did you get in?’ but all you keep coming back to is the question you utter with trepidation:

“Who are you?”

"In the folklore and legends of your world, I am known as The Sandman, The Oneiromancer. Across the other realms, I go by many names. I am Dream of the Endless, Lord Morpheus, The Shaper of Form, Keeper of the Dreaming, King of Dreams, Ruler of Nightmares and Curator of the collective unconsciousness of the universe."

"Okay, Daenerys Targaryen." You stifle a giggle in response to your joke.

He doesn't react.

"Huh, not into Game of Thrones then? You should look it up. Although I would advise sticking to the books. The series got a bit lost towards the end."

He shifts ever so slightly in the seat, the moss green velvet fabric standing out against his dark clothes. You snap back to the present.

You fidget with the seam of the duvet cover as your cheeks flush with blood. His gaze makes you feel insecure. 

"Sorry. I didn't mean to start babbling like that. I haven't been sleeping well."

“I know. That is precisely why I am here.”

His hands steeple in front of him. He leans forward, blue eyes trained on you intently.

“It has come to my attention that you have become the recipient of a plague of vicious and unrelenting nightmares. I have also seen a drastic change in your sleeping habits, with a concerning decline in the amount of time that you are spending in the Dreaming.”

This was no surprise to you in the slightest.

You had been deferring your bed time to a later and later point in the hope that you could tire yourself out enough to bypass the nightmares and night terrors. But they would always be there within an hour of your head hitting the pillow and would prevent you from getting no more than two hours of sleep at a time.

The Dream Man rises slowly and fluidly from the chair. His expression is tinged with something you cannot interpret.

“I've been observing you for a number of nights now to try and ascertain the cause of your plight. The very idea that this is happening to you as a result of a defect or weakness in the fabric of my realm truly disturbs me. As of yet, I have been unable to pinpoint the exact reason, however I will do everything in my power to ensure my success.”

He’s close to you now, his glacial scent drifts over you like mist rolling off a waterfall. 

“To be unable to sleep is to suffer. I only have to look at you to see that you are suffering and I cannot allow it to continue.”

You know all too well what he is seeing. Your bruised and swollen under-eyes have been the focus of many of the people you have come into recent contact with.

“I don’t know what to say,” you finally speak in a whisper.

“You do not need to say anything, for now you must sleep.”

He turns off your lamp and takes a single step backwards.

“Wait,” you call to him. “I don’t think I can sleep knowing what I now know.”

“You need not worry. I have already selected a dream for you. All you have to do is let it take you.”

“But-.”

“Lie down. Close your eyes.”

You visibly hesitate.

“Do as I say, Y/N.”

You reluctantly recline on your side but do not fulfill his second request.

You gaze at him with glassy, tired eyes.

"I'm afraid."

"They will not come for you, I promise. I will watch over you until morning."

You can't help but believe him.

You re-arrange your pillows and curl into a foetal position.

The Dream Man takes this as a sign that you are ready to sleep, and begins to walk away.

He is wrong.

In your tired delirium, you begin to converse chaotically to his retreating figure.

"You know, I still don’t know what to call you. You said so many names but didn’t tell me which one I was allowed to use."

He turns his head to look back at you.

His reply is a soft intonation that causes shivers to run through your entire body.

“You may call me Morpheus."

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

"These are the days. These are the strangest of all. These are the nights. These are the darkest to fall."

Taglist: @pinkcyclewitch @layla2-49 @shoidy-cat @silverhart93 @boofy1998

[elnotwoods]

On coming out: Bad Buddy edition

I bet most of us had some difficult conversations at some point in our lives. It’s just part of the human experience. But coming out is such a specific thing, something that isn’t a one time conversation for us either. It’s not an easy conversation to have and a lot of the time it IS painful to come out.

Once you come out, it’s not over with one conversation. You seem to find yourself coming out multiple times in your life to different people.

Having a supportive inner circle doesn’t cancel out the anxiety of having to share this monumental and very vulnerable part of yourself with people who are supposed to be there for you and love you unconditionally. Even this unconditional love doesn’t guarantee a smooth coming out with no hurt parties. Because the people who love us can hurt us the most. Just being asked why we never bothered to tell that person before.. it hurts. Because they inadvertently shift the focus on themselves. As if your identity is something that affects their lives more than it does yours. And I get it. We have these ideas about people in our heads and suddenly being met with the truth that you might not have considered… it can shake you. It can challenge your core beliefs and some people seem to question why they never noticed, why they never thought about this as an option. Some people really question themselves and who they are and they’re suddenly met with the thought that they might not be as open minded as they thought they were. And that’s valid. However, coming out is not the time to have this inner freakout. Yes, it can trigger an introspection but at the time someone comes out to you, you just don’t make it about yourself.

Coming out is always about the person who is coming out. No one should ever take the power from your hands. Because to find the courage to come out is difficult. It can sometimes take years just to be able to say it out loud, just to yourself. Because you know what this means for your life. And it’s scary. It’s scary because you know life will change. You might lose people close to your heart for not accepting your true self.

Yes, times are changing, but until every single person has a safe space to come out in, until society accepts us the way we are... no one should dictate what a coming out should or shouldn’t be. Or how it should happen.

Two major things to never do to someone who considers coming out or who is about to come out:

1. pressure them to do so

2. out them yourself

So with all this in mind, let’s look at Bad Buddy EP8. Throughout this whole episode we’ve seen Pran struggle with the idea of people finding out about his relationship with Pat. With good reason. Take a step back and just think about the ramifications of coming out as a gay man - what both Pran and Pat would have to live through. Sure they’d find people rooting for them, but if the society as whole is against them it’s a hard thing to do, especially so young and freshly in a relationship. A relationship that should not even be happening according to their parents.

Pran’s internal struggle doesn’t come from him not accepting himself as a gay man or being ashamed of Pat or their relationship. No, Pran is simply a traumatised young man whose parents have gone above and beyond just to make sure he doesn’t get close to Pat.

To live through such a traumatic event and yet still allow himself to chase the happiness that he finds in Pat’s presence... that’s brave. He might not be ready to tell the whole world, but by the end of the episode he sure seems like he would be okay telling his close circle - his friend. People he trust. Those he literally would do anything for. He considers the possibility, he’s warming up to the thought of people knowing. He might have even started thinking about how he would tell his friends...

... only for his best friend to betray him and out him to a theatre full of people. His peers, his friend...  his partner’s friend.

Just before the curtain falls the conversation Pran and Pat are having is echoing around, which means that someone messed with the audio and distributed it all through the theatre for everyone to hear.

As the curtain falls you can see people are shocked, some are amused, some are just surprised to see what’s happening. And then there is Wai. The look on his face is so full of malice and ill-intent, it made the hair at the back of my neck stand. It’s obviously his doing. Not just judging by the look on his face but because he is suddenly in the sound booth (when he actually dropped the play citing scheduling conflicts as a reason earlier in EP7). Even if he personally didn’t push the buttons to switch the output of the microphones, he sure was the one who told the other sound guy to do so.

Why did he do it? Did he have a reason? Saying he had a reason would give room for excusing his actions. Which frankly are...  inexcusable.

He betrayed the trust of his best friend, someone who has been helping him since the beginning of the show. He took the burden of acquiring funding for the bus stop on his shoulders, when he wasn’t even the one who helped destroy it in the first place. Pran decided to help Wai and take over his responsibilities in the production team for the play even though Pran explicitly stated at the beginning of this whole thing, back in EP7, that he does not want to get involved in any other school activities. Yet when Wai came to him, with his little sob story about losing a scholarship if he doesn’t attend rugby practices... when his participation in the play wasn’t really mandatory (if it was mandatory for other architecture students to help, Safe Louis and Pran would have been involved from the get go... but they were not) Pran never hesitated to step up and help Wai.

He found out about Pran’s relationship, listened to Pran talk about secret relationships (basically pouring his heart out and giving a vague reasoning as to why this relationship is kept a secret in the first place) and yet he still decided to act out over something that does not really concern him.

Yes, he has some beef with Pat and his friends - mainly Pat’s friends. But that should not influence his decision making when this whole stunt could hurt his best friend more than his little feud with the engineering squad hurts him. 

Yes, he might be pissed that Pran lied to him for months about his involved with Pat. I totally get being hurt that your friend has lied to you on multiple occasions. Yet Pran’s lies never put Wai in harms way.

Yes, he might have been overcome by emotions because of the whole Pa thing (I’ll get into it in another post).

But... those are still not reasons to out someone against their will.

Wai either does not understand or just doesn’t care about the fallout from outing Pran like this. Wai might not know about their families feud, might not know the complicated history between Pran and Pat and what it took to admit they had feelings for each other, what it took to overcome these obstacles and find solace, acceptance and unconditional love in each others arms. But what Wai knows is that Pran’s mother is abusive. He knows she is controlling. He knows his mother uprooted this boy’s whole life just because he was involved in music (or so he was told by Pran). Wai doesn’t know how his parents would react once they’ll find out about their son being in a relationship with a man.

Even with all this in mind, his judgement is clouded by emotions and he decides to take matters into his own hands. He seems to have planned this. He outs his best friend to a group of people. Something that would sure spread through the grapevines and could even reach Pran’s mother. He also outs another person in the process.

But frankly, it seems that Wai does not care.

Because to Wai, Pran right now is the villain in his own personal story... for lying. He prioritises his own feelings above his friends safety. Betrays his trust. 

Recovering from such a thing is hard. Being stripped of the choice and the power over how, when and to whom he comes out. It’s traumatising.

And because of that, I can never excuse, forgive or forget Wai’s actions. And neither should Pran if he decides so himself.

Sincerely,

Someone who has been outed by their close friend against their will.

[calciumcryptid]

How Accurate Are the UA Dorms?

Welcome back to Calcium Gets Fixated on Minor Things in Fiction that Doesn't Matter in the Long Run, But They Analyze it Anyways. On todays episode, I looked up Japanese dorm life because I was curious about how accurate the UA dorms were.

Disclaimer: In no way am I saying that I (an American) know more about the culture of another country, I just know that BNHA takes a lot of western (specifically American) influences so I was curious to see how that translated.

THE DORM ROOMS:

To properly convey the size of the dorms, I will be using the sims building scale to represent the sizing.

In canon, the UA dorms would translate to a 5x6 tile room.

I came to this conclusion using the back wall curtain. The curtain would translate to 1x3 tiles in the sims, and it has one blank wall on either side which would translate to a total of five tiles.

I then used the size of the bed in relation to the side wall. In the sims, a bed is 1x3 tile and in each room the bed is against the wall. From where the viewer looks in it appears there is a space before the head of the bed and a space at the end of the bed. Judging the rectangle shape of the dorms as shown on Aizawa's graph:

I can safely assume that the space at the foot at the bed is two tiles and the space before the bed is one title. This would be a total of 5x6 tile room. There are roughly four rooms on each side which would equal in a 20 tile side of the dorm building.

To put it simply, this is quite huge for a Japanese dorm room.

From the examples I have seen the average Japanese dorm room that contains a singular occupant is 3x5. I am able to judge this by the back wall and the window of a traditional Japanese dorm room. The window takes up the full back wall, and would translate to a three tile window. I am than able to calculate the side walls by the bed once again. The bed this time is shoved to the very back of the wall leaving a space for a desk in the back. The desk would take 1x2 tiles and adding that to the 1x3 tiles of the bed would equal 5 tiles.

I am also able to calculate it by the appearance of a mini fridge that appears like it is parallel to the desk and has space in front and after it meaning it would be placed in the middle of two tiles.

Typical Student Housing in Osaka ^

The Heights Alliance (the UA dorm for 1-A) was built in fucking three days after the UA faculty finally decided on building it after quote 'The establishment of the Heights Alliance was ruminated by the U.A. faculty for a considerable amount of time.'

There is no way UA would have three days to construct large dorm rooms with balconies in three days even with the assistance of quirks especially since the average amount to construct a room is four to five days. Not to mention, this was a last minute decision to save face due to the League of Villain attacks, I doubt UA would be actually invested in the quality of the dorms.

Now, how does this compare to USA dorms?

Dorm Room at UW-Madison University ^

You can probably see what the UA dorms were modeled after.

Now there are several things to note about this room. Going back to the sims measurement the side walls are roughly five tiles considering the 1x3 tiles of a bed in the sims and the 1x2 tiles of a desk in the sims. Assuming that there isn't extra space beyond the desks that makes the sides roughly 5 tiles.

The back wall would be four tiles due to the position of the window which would be 2 tiles in the sims and how it is centered in a 3 tile space which is calculated by the head of the bed and the 2 tile cubby on the floor. There is one other wall seen at the front of the other bed which would be a solo wall equaling to an additional 1 tile.

The dorm exampled above is a 4x5 tile room. As you notice that is just one down from the 5x6 tile UA dorms. You can tell it too due to the comparable squarer USA dorm room.

What this Means for the UA Dorm Design

Now Calcium, I hear you say, UA is the top hero school so why are you so interested in the size of the room?

Using the UW-Madison University which ranks at #42 in the college rankings out of the more then 5000 colleges in the USA, making it in the top fifty and in USA talk that means it is a top school. We can safely assume the dorms were constructed over the years in the University's roughly 170 year existence.

In comparison, the UA dorms were built in THREE FUCKING DAYS.

Now this is after the UA faculty finally decided on building it after quote 'The establishment of the Heights Alliance was ruminated by the U.A. faculty for a considerable amount of time.'

There is no way UA would have three days to construct large dorm rooms with balconies in three days even with the assistance of quirks especially since the average amount to construct a room is four to five days. Not to mention, this was a last minute decision to save face due to the League of Villain attacks, I doubt UA would be actually invested in the quality of the dorms.

Which means that the UA dorms are completely based on USA dorms from top schools due to the sheer size despite the small timeframe for their construction.

That is all for this episode of Calcium Gets Fixated on Minor Things in Fiction that Doesn't Matter in the Long Run, But They Analyze it Anyways.

@insomniac-jay @floof-ghostie @pizzolisnacks

[kayte-overmoon]

"Slow Cherry" Chapter 4

(cross-posted on AO3)

Tags: Mild Depressive Episode, Drinking (everyone is of age; no alcohol abuse), drunk texting, accidental face reveal

Snippet: A soft laugh drifted over the line. “Are you still drunk, Dream?”

He hummed. “Maybe a little.”

“You’re a mess, Dream.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks for putting up with me.”

“Anytime, love.”

Read Chapter 1 Here

Read Chapter 2 Here

Read Chapter 3 Here

No sexual content in this chapter.

Dream spent the next few weeks losing himself in his schoolwork.

Every time he closed his eyes, he thought of George, heard his voice, saw his smile. It was wreaking havoc on his attention span. His feelings toward the older man were confusing to say the least. It was easier to hyperfixate on school than to try and sort out why he felt this way about a man he’d never even met face-to-face.

Knowing they were only a few short weeks away from living not only in the same country, but the same city made it very, very hard to think about anything else.

Luckily, he had a hardcore coding assignment coming up, so he locked himself in his bedroom with the lights off and drowned himself in Python.

Sapnap noticed something was off and made sure to text Dream whenever he got food (conveniently always with a little more than one person could eat alone). On the rare occasions Dream emerged from his cave, Sapnap looked at him with concern written in every corner of his face, but he didn’t ask what was wrong. He just pushed a bottle of water or a granola bar across the counter to him and told him he looked like shit.

Dream was sure he was right. It was winter, so he hadn’t properly been in the sun in months—for a Florida boy, that was too long. He’d skipped a few showers, and the only time he’d eaten was when Sapnap made sure he did. He shuffled into the bathroom to scrutinize himself under the fluorescents. He squinted in the bright light, so used to the darkness of his room. His hair was a mess, several days overdue for a wash and unbrushed for longer than Dream could remember. He also needed to shave, not liking the scratchy growth around his jaw. There were dark circles around his blood-shot eyes and his skin was paler than it had been in years. He scoffed at himself before stripping and jumping in the shower.

The hot water burned his skin, but it was a religious experience. He hadn’t realized how far he’d pushed himself and how deep he’d let himself fall until it was over. His last final was the next morning, so he was almost done. Thank God.

As it usually did when he had a free moment, his mind strayed to George.

They had still been snapping back and forth, which soothed some of the ache. But it felt like he was looking down the barrel of addiction: he knew that taking one more hit, one more drink, would land him far beyond his limit, pushing him past the fabled Point of No Return. He considered ghosting George, but just thinking about that made his stomach turn. Sex workers got enough shit as it was without their clients pushing boundaries, trying to make something real out of their arrangements, or dropping them outright without warning.

Dream was so fucking pathetic.

He emerged from his shower scrubbed raw, physically and emotionally. He didn’t feel great in his head still, but at least he didn’t stink. He brushed his teeth to cover all his hygienic basics, put on a clean pair of pajamas, and went to bed.

And just like that his semester was over. He did well on his final—not as well as he’d hoped, considering how much time he’d spent studying, but well enough to stay on track to graduation.

He emerged from his final to find a snap from George waiting for him on his phone.

The older man was sitting on his bed, throwing a peace sign to the camera with a huge, cheesy grin. There were boxes stacked around the bed, the only thing left in the room being his bed.

Good luck on your final! Getting ready to put my stuff in the shipping container. Only a few more days.

Despite himself, Dream smiled at the message.

Dream and Sapnap celebrated the end of the semester that night in the only way college kids knew how: by buying as much beer as they could afford and inviting over as many people as they could fit into their apartment. Someone connected their phone to the sound system in the living room, blasting hip hop music over the subwoofer. Dream knew they were going to get a noise complaint from their neighbors, but he was too excited—and drunk—to care.

He got a few drinks in him and danced when he was pulled from the couch. Faces blurred before him, but he knew almost everybody there, so he didn’t mind whenever someone pressed up against him. Someone else pressed another beer into his hands. He was sweating, the heat in the apartment still fighting the December cold even with a few dozen people packed into the cramped space. His jacket came off at some point, so he was only in his beer-stained t-shirt and jeans.

He could happily say he had nothing on his mind. He was just happy, done with school for the next month and surrounded by his favorite people in the world.

But not his favorite person in the world.

No, that person wasn’t here.

He stumbled to the bathroom at one point to piss, wobbling a little and struggling to aim. He washed his hands and stared at himself in the mirror. He looked much different than he had the previous night: he was flushed from the alcohol and dancing, for one, but he also felt lighter. Maybe it was the beer talking, but he felt good. He always liked life better when he wasn’t in school. And that message from George made him so, so happy.

Only a few more days.

George.

Just thinking about him made Dream smile.

He pulled out his phone just to look at the photo, which he’d screenshotted. They’d agreed they could save anything they sent each other except for nudes, which they had to get permission to keep. But innocent little messages like that one were free game. Dream was thankful for that, since it let him get a fix whenever he needed it. He found himself pulling out his phone to look at pictures of his camboy whenever he had a free moment to twiddle his thumbs.

He wrote a message to George, not really paying attention to what he said. Mainly he just wanted George to think of him while Dream was thinking of George. He sent the message and pocketed his phone. The music became unmuffled as he opened the bathroom door and someone immediately grabbed him and pulled him back into the fray.

Dream had… many regrets come morning.

Before he even opened his eyes, he knew how much of a doozy this hangover was. His head was pounding with the beat of his heart, his mouth felt packed with sand, and his stomach was turning. He felt like he needed to puke, but he was too numb to get up. Besides, he had a feeling he’d only end up dry heaving.

He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, debating going back to sleep. Something on the bed shifted next to him (much bigger than Patches), alerting him to the fact that he wasn’t alone.

After some coaxing, he squinted his eyes open and blinked against the scarce light peeking around the curtains—it wasn’t much light, but it was enough to make him want to die. He turned to see someone’s back facing him in the bed, a dude. Dream sent up a silent prayer of thanks that both the dude and Dream himself were fully clothed. He levered himself onto an elbow to see who was next to him. It was Skeppy, of all people, and he wasn't alone. Puffy was there too, curled up against Skeppy’s chest at the edge of the bed. Dream had no clue how neither of them had fallen off yet, so tightly wound together on the ledge. But they were there, snoozing happily.

Someone was snoring, but it wasn’t either of them. Dream sat up further and poked his head around to find Bad sprawled on the floor beside the bed. It seemed he’d wanted to get in with Skeppy and Puffy, but there hadn’t been enough room with Dream there as well. Skeppy’s hand was dangling off the side of the bed where Bad was; they must have fallen asleep holding hands. Despite his head and his stomach trying to remove themselves from his body, Dream smiled. They were all so sweet together.

He extracted himself from the bed slowly, not wanting to disturb them, and grabbed his phone charger from the power strip at his desk. He slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind himself carefully. His phone was dead in his pocket, so he plugged it in at the bathroom counter as he set about cleaning himself up. He contemplated trying to throw up but decided against it. It might only make him even more sick. He washed his face and brushed his teeth. He definitely needed a shower and a change of clothes, but he didn’t have the energy for it yet.

A soft ding told him his phone was back on. He dried off his hands and picked it up. He had a couple of missed notifications. Karl left one saying he was taking Sapnap back to his place because someone had already taken Sapnap’s room. There was one from his next-door neighbor asking him to turn the music down or they would call the cops. Dream assumed that was a bluff, considering he didn’t remember the cops showing up at any point.

The last notification caught his eye.

It was a Snapchat message from George, received around 3 a.m.

Dream, call me when you get this. I don’t think you meant to send that. I need to talk to you.

Dream’s heart sunk.

What had he sent George? Had he drunk texted him? What had he said?

Oh God, he hadn't told him anything... incriminating, right? Had he said anything about wanting to be more than a sugar daddy, a friend with benefits, a casual observer?

There wasn’t anything saved in their chats above George’s most recent messages. The last message before that was Dream’s response to George’s “good luck with finals” message.

Wait. No it wasn’t.

The time stamp was wrong.

Dream had sent George a picture around 2:30 last night, when he was several drinks deep. He remembered going to the bathroom and texting George, but he couldn’t remember what he’d said no matter how hard he’d tried. He thought it had been a typed message in chat, not a picture.

Maybe he’d sent a dick pic? He hoped not. He had been too drunk to get it up at that point. If that’s what it was, it had to be horribly unflattering. And if not a dick pic, what had he taken a picture of?

His blood ran cold.

He was hitting the “call” button before he could overthink it.

George answered a few rings later. “Dream?”

“What did I send?” His voice was rough. He was trying to keep quiet so he didn’t bother his guests, and his mouth was dry even after brushing his teeth. He sounded like shit.

George sounded uncomfortable when he spoke. “Dream, I’m sorry. I don’t think you meant to—“

“What did I send, George?”

He knew the answer in the silence before George spoke. His stomach dropped when he said it anyway. “You—you sent me a picture of your face.”

Dream hung his head. Perfect. Of course. He’d had grand plans to pick George up from the airport and reveal his face then, or he’d at least make it sexy over their video calls or something. He wanted to make it a spectacle. Instead he’d drunk texted him a selfie.

“It wasn’t bad,” George tried to reassure him. “I couldn’t see it too clearly anyway. It was in the mirror, and you were very drunk. You were a little blurry.”

“What was I doing?”

“You were, like, leaning on the counter. You were smiling. You had a, uh…”

Dream frowned harder. “I had a what?”

“You had—have—a hickey on your neck.”

“What?” Dream stood up straight and pulled the collar of his shirt. Sure enough, there was a dark red mark on his neck, barely hidden by his shirt. “Huh. How the hell did that get there?”

George snorted. “Sounds like you had a fun night.” There was something bitter in his tone.

Dream scrambled for a response that wouldn't put him in the metaphorical dog house. “I don’t—I didn’t sleep with anyone. I would know. It just—my friends are super touchy. One of them probably did it while we were dancing.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Dream,” George said softly. “I’m a big boy. I know I’m not the only person in your life.”

“I do have to explain myself, though.” Dream ran his hand through his hair. “I care what you think about me. I don’t want you to think I sleep around. I don’t. Not really. Not anymore, at least. And I wanted to surprise you when you saw my face. I wanted it to be a thing.”

“Dream, calm down.” There was something calming about the British man’s voice, especially when he used that tone, like he was soothing a spooked animal. Which, for all intents and purposes, Dream was. “It’s okay. I’m not upset. I was just worried about you. I know it’s a thing for you, people seeing your face.”

“Oh.” Dream’s heart was thundering in his chest. It was making his head throb harder, but he didn’t particularly care at that moment. “Thank you. That’s—you’re really considerate. And did you—I mean, did…”

“You’re very handsome, Dream.”

Dream was dumbfounded. That wasn’t what he was going to ask, but he’s glad George said it. He wasn’t really concerned about that particular aspect of this whole ordeal, but it was nice to know. “Oh. Thanks. That’s… you too. I mean, I think you’re—fuck.”

George’s laugh echoed across the line, settling Dream’s frazzled nerves. “I know, honey. You’ve told me before. But let's continue this conversation when you’re not so hungover, yeah?”

Dream hummed in agreement. “You can tell?”

“You were sloshed last night. I could tell just by looking at you. Partied hard, hmm?”

Dream snorted. “Just a little. I don't even want to see the state of my living room right now. And there’s, like, two-thirds of a thruple in my bed right now.”

“Oh?” Amusement and interest tinged the older man’s voice.

“No, not like that,” Dream laughed. “They passed out in there. Their third is on the floor. They’re good friends of mine. No clue when we all fell asleep though.”

“Sounds like you need to get started making coffee for everyone, then. Be a good host.”

“Probably. I thought about ordering pizza. I have no clue how many people stayed over though.”

“Celebrating the end of term, then?”

A yawn worked its way out of Dream. “Yeah,” he said. “We all finished up yesterday so we just bought a bunch of beer and invited folks over.”

“Sounds fun.”

“We’ll invite you next time,” Dream said, his tongue loose from his hangover. Oh well. “I think you’d like my friends. They’re all… absolutely insane. But they’re the coolest, nicest people you’ll ever meet.”

A soft laugh drifted over the line. “Are you still drunk, Dream?”

He hummed. “Maybe a little.”

“You’re a mess, Dream.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks for putting up with me.”

“Anytime, love.”

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

[nightowlfandom]

Anime! Fictional! BTS x Real World! Reader- Welcome To My World~ Episode 1

HEY HEY! IM SO EXCITE! Btw who here plays BTS World? This is very loosely based off that.

I need to download it again tbh.

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

Leggo!

...

What does it mean to escape? To get away. If it means leaving behind all you know, all you’ve been raised to know, all you’ve been led to believe, with just yourself and the clothes on your back. Scary, but thrilling. Terrifying, but inviting. Unbelievable, but definitely possible....

...

On a early Tuesday morning where the sun was barely grazing the orange sky, you sat by your windowsill. You were dreamily staring out into the halo that was a mixture of red and orange. The halo of greyish clouds matched your mood to a complete tee. The aesthetic beauty of nature wasn’t enough to make you smile or even blink twice, however. It was always like this though. Yet something about this scene made you go sour.

Releasing a sigh, you stepped away from the window, shutting the curtains. Another day, the same thing. All you could do was attempt to power through.

As you lazily pulled your shirt over your head, you had managed to dodge that annoying dog. The little brat wasn’t even yours, but your oh-so loving step-sister’s. He always had a affinity for making your room a hot mess.  Only yours in particular. 

“Get out of here you little-.” you chased the dog out of your room, slamming your door as it scurried off. “What did you screw up this time?” you curiously scanned the room. Everytime that little fluffy beast rammed his little head into your personal space, something would end up broken, ripped, shattered, or completely destroyed beyond repair. 

You almost screamed when you saw a familiar book cover on the floor. You instantly dropped to your knees, praying to yourself that it wasn’t true. The cover had a pretty violent looking rip along with the first few pages. 

Your absolute reason for waking up in the morning was tarnished. A signed cover of BTS Universe Issue #1. Probably your one and only favorite series on planet Earth. You gingerly picked up the book, trying to inspect it with hopes that the damage was minimal. As little as this was, you almost felt like crying. However there was no time, you needed to tape up the pages and fast! Who cares if you missed breakfast.

...

“Morning Y/N!” Your step-dad greeted you in the kitchen. “You were upstairs an awful long time, I was about to send your mother to see if you were still up playing that game of yours!” he smiled warmly.

“Thanks Mr. Chai.” you replied politely. “I’m sorry I’m so late.”

“You know...Y/N...you could call me Dad.” he set a plate down on the table. “I know I’m not your father, but I want to be the best father-figure for you because I know...you haven’t really had that.”

You had to stop yourself from saying anything else. You haven’t had the best parental relationship, and your new step-dad really was trying. Maybe it was just his daughter that drove you nuts.

“Thank you.” you replied, smiling. “...Dad.” you winked, making finger guns. “Geez! You made a lot of food for just the four of us”

“ Well you ain’t see muffin, yet!” he winked. “You and Nari have a busy day today. She auditioning and you, my friend....well I don’t know exactly what you have planned for the day.”

“I’ll tell you if we can skip the food related puns.” you sat down at the table. It was a rule that everyone waited for everyone else. Even though you had taken the extra time to repair your copy of BTS Universe, you had seemed to be the first person down the stairs. In all honesty, you were just going to hang out at the comic store until Nari called to tell you she was done.

“Hey now, Donut kill my vibe!” he continued, laughing. “I have a million more of these, come on. Don’t go bacon my heart, Y/N.”

“Good job Y/N, you’ve gotten him started.” You mom came down the stairs in her little blazer and pencil skirt. “Whatever will we do now.”

“He did it himself, the guy’s an animal! You married a wild child, mom.” you joked. “He might just be a serial killer.”

“Don’t you mean...cereal killer?” he held up a box of Raisin Bran to make his point. You could only shake your head as your mother and step-father laughed together. Food related humor so early in the morning had to mean today wasn’t going to be a horrible as it started, at least for you.

“WHERE ARE MY THIGH HIGH BOOTS!” you heard a screech from upstairs. “THEY BETTER NOT BE IN YOUR ROOM, Y/N!”

“...WHY WOULD I WANT TO WEAR YOUR SHOES!” you yelled back after taking in a deep breath. “NARI, IF I WANTED TO BREAK MY ANKLES, I’D HAUL MYSELF DOWN THE STAIRS.”

“When will you two get along?” your mom shook her head. “It’s been three years.” 

“We don’t not get along.” You shook your head. “Not my fault she’s difficult.”

“I can think of a few times you’ve been difficult yourself, young lady.” you mother pointed a stern finger at you. “Like when you locked yourself in the room to read that silly cartoon of yours.”

“It’s not silly.” you defended yourself.

“Oh come on!” Nari’s voice voice could be heard alongside some loud footsteps. “I think it’s cute to be honest. Y/N here actually has a hobby besides stalking celebrities online.”

“Shut up, Nari.” you grumbled. “And keep your dog out of my room! He ruined my signed copy of BTS Universe!”

“Dorie got out again?” she seethed, looking annoyed. “I really have to put a bell on that dog.”

“Yeah.” you sighed, you bummed mood returning. Everyone knew just how much you loved that edition. You kept in in a super special display case, you cleaned the case every week, you kept your other issues on their own bookshelf along with your figurine and digital visual novel editions of the series. You were even on the buyer’s list for the special early anime release. You LOVED this series. Not even Nari dared to disrespect something as important as that, and she loved getting under your skin.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to find another one.” your mother set down a bowl of cereal in front of you along with a muffin. “Now eat, you have a big day today.”

“Yes mam.” you replied, helping yourself to some cereal.

“If you want, you can take a muffin or bagel with you.” your step dad said. 

“Dad! I can’t, I have to be super focused remember? Breakfast will just slow me down!” Nari scoffed.

“Not having breakfast will make it even worse, dummy. Dude, you’re gonna pass out on stage.” you threw a tiny cereal piece at her. “Eat something.”

“I’ll eat later, I just have my eye on the prize and nothing is going to stop me.” Nari stood up determined. 

“Will you at least eat some toast, crazy girl.” your mother said. “Y/N’s right, you need to at least have eaten something to calm your nerves. Y/N make sure Nari eats something before you two go your separate ways.”

“I’ll try, no promise.” you shrugged. “Nari, if you’re done, then get your stuff and let’s go.” You promptly finished your cereal and went to go back upstairs. “You got ten minutes.” 

“What’s her deal?” you could hear Nari ask, followed by an sudden whispering of your mom stating exactly what she thought was wrong with you. Your bet was on ‘everything’.

You walked back into your room, grabbing your purse from your desk. You eyed your taped up issue of BTS Universe #1. There was no way you were going to find another issue like that, and that damned dog just treated it like a loved toy. You grabbed your phone and shoved it into your purse. You went over to where the issue was and placed it on your desk. 

“NARI LET’S GO!” you shut the bedroom door behind you as you walked out the room. 

...

You sped to a stop outside the building. Nari was shaking in her shoes. She seemed hesitant to even open the door. 

“Call me when you’re finished so I can pick you up.” you said, getting ready to unlock the doors.

“You’re leaving me!?” Nari looked like she was about to explode.

“Hello?! It’s idol trainees only?” you raised an eyebrow. “I can’t go in there with you. Nari what’s the problem?”

“...Um...I’m nervous alright! I’m giving up almost everything and if I don’t get chosen...I’ll just prove my dad right. I need this.” she stared down at her hands. “I’m not used to being a reject. I don’t know how you-”

“You wanna leave here with two working legs, I suggest you don’t finished that sentence.” you cut her off. “I’m not a reject.”

“That’s not what I was gonna say. I’m saying I don’t know how you deal with nerves like this.” she looked like she was gonna pass out. 

“...You just do.” you nudged her shoulder. “You just go for it and hope. Go for it.”

“...Okay, I’ll try.” she opened the door. “...Thank you.” she stood up. “I’ll call you when I’m all set.” she shut the door. 

“I’ll literally be at the store around the corner.” you replied before driving off. You watched in the rear view as she took her sweet time going into the building. 

...(Later on)

You trudged behind Nari as she ran through the door. She seemed happy, so that must have meant the audition went well.

“I’m gonna take a nap.” you called to your mom and step-dad. “See you guys at dinner!”

You didn’t wait for them to reply before you closed the door. As you walked over to your bed, you noticed a disc laying on your bed. Just a random DVD. The closer you got, the font on the front got clearer.

“BTS World?” It didn’t look familiar in the slightest. “It’s called BTS Universe, Nice try Nari.” you wrote it off as a stupid prank by your oh-so-loving Step-Sister. It was only then you realized Nari was with you all day. 

You took another look at it, gently taking it in your hands. It looked like it was glowing. 

Call it curiosity, but you needed to know.

Your laptop was sitting at the edge of the bed, so you put the disc in. 

“State your name.” a voice came out of nowhere. 

“What?” you looked around in shock. The voice sounded like it came from right behind you.

“Please state your name.” the female robotic voice repeated. 

“Y/N.” 

“Are you sure that you want Y/N as your name?”

“Um Yes?” you raised an eyebrow. You still didn’t know what the fuck was going on.

“Would you like to start a new game? You don’t appear to have any saved filed under the name Y/N.”

Maybe you were sleepier than you thought, but you ran with it. “Yes.”

“Starting new game....now”

Your screen began glowing a bright blue, a vivid, saturated blue. It was like your screen had turned into a flashlight. 

“What the fu-” you suddenly stared at your hands, the very tips of your fingers turned pixelated. “MOM!!!” You tried to scream, only to have it come out in the form on an echo. You felt your feet leave the ground as tiny little pixels moved towards your computer. You could see the color draining from your walls, leaving everything white. It was like an earthquake ran through your room...only through your room.

Then...everything went dark.

...

(Why hello there...LET US PREPARE. I’m gonna go through with it this time, I swear on my bacon! The guys are coming next chappie!)

[fermented-writers-block]

Just recently, I stumbled across @owls-house‘s post on MSN’s article about some of the first look details of The Owl House while looking through some of the older posts about upcoming news on the show before it came out, and this particular section caught my eye in light of everything we currently know about the Boiling Isles and the cast of the show:

The Owl House:

The Owl House is a living structure that Eda has charmed so that she could live there and be safe from outside forces. Quaint and cottage-like on the outside, with a storefront facade, the inside of the Owl House is full of secret rooms, with a labyrinth for a basement. Hooty, the door knocker, serves as the home’s defense system.

Given how the Owl House is supposed to be Eda’s safe haven and how she hasn’t really shown that much of an interest in puzzle solving and mysteries, the two bolded details immediately stood out to me. 

I mean, from what we’ve seen of her, Eda has never really struck me as someone who’d construct or even want to deal with a labyrinth in the first place - particularly one that’s completely unnecessary if its supposed to be a basement to simply just store things in - and I very much doubt Eda would install a whole bunch of secret rooms into her house that presumably go unused when she likes to collect things so often, let alone go through all the trouble of making entire rooms dedicated to being secret when we’ve seen her be content with the amount of rooms she already uses.

And that’s without asking where and what the heck these secret rooms are supposed to be about specifically, as while they are secret and thus understandably not generally supposed to be easily found, they would have to be VERY small rooms to fit inside with the relative dimensions of all the rooms we’ve seen so far compared to the size of the exterior, and that’s without asking about what purpose they would even serve.

As for the apparent labyrinth, such a word tends to evoke the image of some incredibly huge and complex maze-like structure with single overall path and no dead ends - although it’s often been used interchangeably used with ‘maze,’ which is basically a labyrinth with dead ends, so who knows what it actually looks like here - and yet there is no sign of any kind of tunnel when an animated Hooty stood up in Hooty’s Moving Hassle let alone hardly any implied space for the kind of grand, sprawling structure the word ‘labyrinth’ evokes.

Now, I’ve brought this up in my last theory about the Owl House as a structure, but as a brief summary, I deduced that it is not a place that Eda had constructed completely all on her own, but rather an amalgamation of a bunch of parts of different buildings that had gotten attached to one center section: aka the middle part of the house with white brickwork - or the Owl Temple as I’ve dubbed it before.

And after looking through the flooring and walls of the rooms we’ve seen so far of the Owl House, I’ve concluded that the labyrinth at the very least is located or accessible from either underneath the carpet in the living room:

Or somewhere inside the parapet/battlement thing that serves as the floor of Eda’s balcony:

Obviously, considering the likely size of both of these rooms in relation to the dimensions of the house, they must be hidden away by magic, whether it be through magical pocket dimensions or the like, but this just raises the questions of why these rooms exist in the first place.

For me, I can see only two possible explanations for both questions, both of which I’ve outlined extensively down below:

TLDR: Either the original people who used the Owl Temple a long time ago had build those rooms into it, or they are a potentially significant part of Hooty’s biology as the house itself

Option 1: They were built by the original inhabitants of the Owl Temple

Like I’ve discussed before, I suspect that - from the owl mural and the way the curtains are arranged - the living room used to be used as an altar or ritual room for some kind of owl spirit/deity, so following off that kind of conclusion, it’s possible that the rest of the temple was designed in a similar fashion related to the Owl Deity.

Perhaps these secret rooms are only unlockable through puzzles and riddles to play into how owls are usually portrayed as wise old creatures, hiding away ‘treasures’ not of gold and wealth, but rather of information and books. Maybe these secret rooms could have been like places of study where one could peruse ancient tomes or collect knowledge without being disturbed, or they could simply be full on ordinary rooms that people lived and slept in but with doors that can only be unlocked in a particular way ala the Ravenclaw dorms in Harry Potter.

As for the labyrinth, it could have been meant as a way to test one’s mind and observation skills/as part of one’s initiation, requiring an attentive eye to detail or such to figure out the one single route in and out of it. Maybe it holds some kind of great secret of knowledge or an important ancient artifact that only those who can figure out the path can find/use.

Of course, there IS the small chance it functioned more like a quirky cult with the labyrinth posing as part of kind of bizarre ritual or being used for sacrificial duty, but I very much doubt that this would even get past the censors let alone even got implemented with how un-cult-like the glimpses of the base design of the Owl Temple has been so far.

That said, given how I’ve speculated that something happened that led to the Owl Temple being abandoned, falling into disrepair and obscurity long before Eda first discovered it, she likely has next to absolutely no idea about the existence of at least most of these rooms, so it would be interesting to see exactly how the cast will eventually and inevitably find and explore these hidden rooms and labyrinth, especially with the chance at discovering long-forgotten knowledge or even uncovering dark secrets and old truths that have been suppressed and forgetten by the present day.

However, though I think this explanation and ramifications thereof would be interesting to explore in its own right, I can’t help but think that the second, more likely explanation would easily expand upon and add quite the intrigue to a particular character I’ve had my eye on for a good while:

OPTION 2: They are a part of Hooty and are only increasing in size and number as he grows

We all know that Hooty IS the house itself as demonstrated by his manipulation of various parts of the structure and from statements by Eda, but whereas the prior explanation was based on the idea that the old inhabitants had created the secret rooms and labyrinth themselves before Hooty came into the equation, here I’d like to propose that the rooms are a side result of Hooty slowly regenerating back into a full sized Owl Temple.

With the kind of importance and likely amount of people that would be present or living in such a place, it seems rather likely that what we see of the Owl Temple in the Owl House is but a small-ish remnant of the entire thing, especially with the doorframe in Eda’s room that most likely connected to another section or large area that she either couldn’t salvage in an intact-enough state or didn’t care about to bring with her.

However, though Eda’s additions seems to have been integrated relatively neatly with what she found of the Owl Temple for Hooty to probably be able to affect them, they are likely nowhere near enough to make up for the rest of the missing Temple. 

As such, Hooty could potentially and unknowingly be growing new rooms to make up for the rest of the Temple - kind of like a yolk becoming a baby chick inside of its shell, forming organs and bones and etc until it’s big and strong enough to emerge. 

Though here, instead of breaking apart the foundations and outside of the Owl House entirely, perhaps this transformation would be more like the structure suddenly expanding outwards and quickly stretching everything about itself similar a video about plant growth on fast forward, up until the outer dimensions match the ever increasing inner dimensions. 

With this kind of analogy, it’d make sense why Eda wouldn’t know about these rooms and why Hooty wouldn’t bring them up, as to the former, they literally weren’t there when she salvaged what she could of the Temple, and for the latter, they’re just such a natural part of his body that he simply doesn’t notice.

Now, why I think that this would add an interesting layer of mystique to Hooty’s character is because of the important question of - if and when he finds out about these rooms - whether Hooty would be able to consciously control their structure and arrangement however he wants. 

After all, if the answer is YES, then we might get to begin to see the full capacity of both Hooty’s power and his patience if he gets ticked off and decides to turn the inside of the house into this:

It would not only be an amazing opportunity for some glorious mind screwy animation with the transformation of a location we’ve all become accustomed to into something straight out of M C Escher’s nightmares, but would also give an opportunity to build Hooty’s character MUCH further beyond the complete butt monkey he’s been portrayed as.

Outside of Eda calling him a “state of the art defense system” in the first episode, he has barely gotten any respect and has never been treated seriously compared to even King. And even when he seems to have temporarily died in The Intruder given the crossed-out eyes and the lights going out in the house when they’re apparently directly controlled by him, Luz and King didn’t really stay that concerned for long. Heck, King was more annoyed at hearing Hooty’s voice again rather than being happy that he was still alive.

After enduring all of that, it’s a wonder that Hooty hasn’t snapped any sooner, so how he’d react when he finally can get people to listen to him without them being able to just simply ignore him or leave would open up the gates to his inner psyche and how he really feels about everyone and the way they treat him. 

Exactly how he’d manipulate the interior dimensions would be extremely telling of what kind of character he truly is at heart, what with the sheer kind of power trip from being in complete control over such a space vs how he would be calmed down from it, AND it’d mark a major and permanent shift in how everyone treats the being they live in on a daily basis due to how much mutual trust and respect both Hooty and his inhabitants would likely have to rebuild in each other to be able to go about their day and keep their relationships intact.

That, and it’d be a REALLY interesting glimpse into the full eldritch nature of a house with many more rooms on the inside than the outside suggests, one that actually has a mind and consciousness to drive it and thus one that you don’t really want to piss off if you can. Just think of all the fun horror/mind screw that could be done with such an episode about this.

Of course, this does bring into question exactly what is the deal with the labyrinth, but running off the seemingly one-time joke from the first episode where - instead of simply opening the door like he’s done in every other episode - Hooty lets everyone in by opening his mouth and even burping, the entire living room could easily be equated as Hooty’s stomach. 

I’ve discussed this with @sepublic​ a bit, but because of how he can stretch vertically instead of just his neck as shown above, as well as the likely placement of the labyrinth underneath the living room, I suspect that the labyrinth might be doubling as Hooty’s intestines given the way real intestines fold and twist around while also having one single route through them like a labyrinth does.

That, and that Hooty may have gained Eda’s trust as a good enough defense system for her to rely on by being able to do this to whoever tries to attack the house from time to time:

I would not be surprised if Luz or Eda or whoever checks out the labyrinth later in the series might find the remains of some of Eda’s old enemies down there.

That said, considering how much bigger the original Owl Temple might possibly be than the Owl House, Hooty would likely require quite a LOT of material/energy to build back those rooms and other parts of the Temple. And given how he doesn’t exactly seem to passively be feeding off ambient magic or something alongside the comparison to intestines, well...

It just makes one wonder just what state those remains are in, let alone how recognizable they even still are in the first place.

[signor-signor]

Trending 27th (November 2020)

Could Netflix make a third season of Wander Over Yonder?

I’ve been contemplating this for about two years, right after I found that @crackmccraigen would be working on Kid Cosmic for Netflix.

Considering I can think of a number of reasons Netflix could, nay, should buy the rights to the show, I say, “YES, PLEASE.”

Reason # 1

The popularity of Disney’s other animated shows just can’t be topped. Phineas and Ferb, Gravity Falls, Star vs. the Forces of Evil, DuckTales (2017), Amphibia, The Owl House, and yes, Paul Rudish’s take on Mickey Mouse (plus The Wonderful World of Mickey Mouse on Disney+, also under Paul’s supervision), to name a few. I always thought Wander Over Yonder would be treated the same way Fish Hooks was treated - given three seasons and moved into obscurity before becoming accessible on D+. Seeing as how Disney has been ignoring WOY for a long, long time, I could see that it wasn’t the case. They’ve also been consistently leaving out anything related to the show when promoting the aforementioned shows on certain occasions, like World Kindness Day. It’s obvious to me that they still have something against WOY and no interest whatsoever in bringing it back. In fact, they’re so focused on the shows they love best, including the ones that already legitimately ended (most especially GF), that they wouldn’t give a fig if WOY was taken away right under their noses, I think.

Reason # 2

The “higher-up bosses of bosses of bosses” aren’t particularly responsive and they don’t seem to care. Sending letters and emails is the best way to reason with the executives, but in the past 4+ years, our objections have been seemingly wasted on them, which might explain why the fandom has been dwindling. Just because the higher-ups aren’t answering your letters doesn’t mean you should stop writing them, though. Still, there’s simply no denying that they screwed up big time. Craig McCracken clearly stated he pitched S3 to the bosses of DTVA and DXD back in early 2015 (around February, if I’m not mistaken), at which point writing for S2 had already wrapped up. However, when late July came, one week before S2 premiered, the higher-ups decided to cancel the show after two seasons for no good reason, leaving the plans for S3 in limbo and the space pod cliffhanger unresolved. You can’t cancel a show loved by a decent number of people without a clear and concise reason. A good executive should know better than to deny an experienced cartoonist a chance to end a cartoon his way.

Reason # 3

Craig McCracken LOVES working at Netflix. It’s there where he’s finishing up his work on Kid Cosmic, which may come out sometime in 2021 due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Supposedly, he has way more creative freedom there than he did while working at DTVA. Considering how he feels about working there, I suspect he doesn’t want to return to Disney, and given the circumstances, I don’t blame him for leaving. If I were a cartoonist who created a visually and audibly appealing cartoon that was prematurely cancelled and constantly one-upped by some other shows and I had doubts of it coming back, I’d have a good enough reason to give away all the information I had for one more season (the new main characters, the backstory, the subplots, the names of previously unnamed characters, the whole basket of fruit). Heck, I would share a PDF copy of the pitch bible for that season with those who are interested. In the case of Netflix doing better than Disney, however, I’d wait until Netflix obtains the rights to my show and gives it the final season I’ve been keeping under my proverbial hat for years.

If Netflix is going to buy the rights to WOY, they’ll have to leave out any bits of evidence of the show being Disney property. You know, omit the name from the upper left corner of the logo in the title sequence and the DTVA and DXD logos at the end. Of course, My Fair Hatey won’t be a problem, since the WOY logo on the curtains has no company name on it. Let’s not forget the cameo in Future-Worm that helpfully gave us an idea of what we’d see in S3 and the Wander plush in the claw machine in Big City Greens - if Disney doesn’t bring WOY back in the next few years, those cameos will probably have to go and so will the WOY-related images decorated on the walls of DTVA. They made their bed and they must sleep in it.

Disney may own the first two seasons right now, but I’m sure Netflix can afford to not only pick up where WOY left off, but take it all off their “stepbrother-and-platypus-spoiling, high school fish-favoring, Oregon town-obsessing, warrior princess-pampering, long-haired lady-loving, rich duck reboot-relishing, heroic sextet-savoring, country bumpkin-craving, anthropomorphic frog-adoring, witch-in-training-worshipping, Paul Rudish-praising” hands. It’s like I always used to say, “What’s the point of Disney owning the rights to the show if they won’t let Craig finish it his way?”

Imagine what would happen if Netflix does buy the rights to WOY from Disney. A massive semi truck with Netflix on either side, backs into the DTVA vault from the back breaking down the wall. The back of the truck opens up. Inside it stands Kid Cosmic himself. He steps to the edge, holds out a hand to Wander, Sylvia, and the other WOY characters, and says, “Come with me if you want to continue.” Everyone climbs aboard the truck, even that alien resembling the one from Mars and Beyond. Wander says to the characters from the other shows, “Farewell, my Mouse House friends! I’ll send each and every one of you a postcard from Netflix’s animation studio!” Lord Hater, of course, exclaims to the characters from overrated shows, “So long, you overachievers! If I never see your executive-proof faces again, it’ll be too soon! Woo! (blows raspberry)” The truck closes up and takes off. When it does, the DTVA vault promptly repairs itself. All evidence of Wander Over Yonder being Disney property vanishes.

OR...

If Disney does want to let Craig finish WOY his way but can’t afford to, Craig might have Netflix put the money made from Kid Cosmic’s performance towards that third and final season. Of course, we want to make sure he gets back to the company to oversee its production after KC is finished. We’re not asking Disney to revive GF, put SvtFoE on DVD, make a movie based on Paul Rudish’s take on Mickey Mouse, or re-release Song of the South, all we want is to see S3 become a reality, and we sure as heck don’t want Craig and the folks who worked with him to take it all to the grave.

The more we show our support for the show and its planned third season, the more likely either Disney, Netflix, or Hulu (yes, Hulu, the home of new episodes of Animaniacs) will give it to us.

@disneyanimation

@netflix

@hulu

[where-dreamers-go]

"A Good Night" Merlin x Reader

(A/N: Requested! ❤ Sorry it's been so long.

Also this takes place Season 1 episode 10.

@milleniumxhan asked: Could you do a Merlin x reader where you're all together in Ealdor and there's no bed space so you end up sharing with Merlin, and he's really shy and stutters about it and so are you but then you end up cuddling and falling asleep and it's really cute and fluffy and then Hunith's all like "they're good for each other.")

No bed space, your friends, and a village in trouble. It was nowhere near a typical night for you nor were you even home.

Ealdor, a village at the edge of Cenred's kingdom had gained help in the form of Prince Arthur, Lady Morgana, Gwen, Merlin, and yourself. Merlin's mother, Hunith, was kind enough to let all of you stay with her.

It was then that you knew where Merlin got his compassionate heart.

Hunith handed you an extra blanket.

"I'll just sleep on the floor," you said.

"Are you sure?" Hunith asked, already reading your expression.

"I'll be all right. Besides, it's better to already be asleep on the floor than to wake up dropping to the floor."

You pushed away the flashbacks of sharing a crowded bed with your family when you were younger.

Hunith shook her head with a small smile.

"Sleep well, (Y/N)."

"Goodnight." You said.

With a blanket under your arm, you walked the short distance passed the girls to where Merlin and Arthur were resting.

Both boys were on their backs, Arthur closest to the dying embers.

"No room?" Arthur asked as you quietly settled yourself between Merlin and a candle.

"No," you whispered. "It's all right."

The only source of light came from the candle, the red embers, and a small window on the opposite end of the home.

Merlin cleared his throat and laid perfectly still.

"I hope that neither of you snore." You joked, bringing your blanket up to your shoulders.

"Can't make any promises for Merlin here," Arthur whispered.

The boy beside you made no reply. In fact both boys were quiet for quite some time. Surprisingly.

The three women beyond the curtains were presumably asleep after a while. Even you had drifted off to sleep for a period of time until words -- close and whispered -- entered your ears.

Your eyes moved underneath their lids.

"I just didn't fit in anymore."

Merlin's voice.

"I wanted to find somewhere that I did."

"Had any luck?" Arthur asked.

"I'm not sure yet."

You were awake then, however you kept your eyes shut.

"Start training the men tomorrow. It's going to be a long day." Arthur shuffled under his blanket. "Get the candle."

Even with your eyes unopened, you could sense Merlin as he leaned over you.

In a soft blow of air the candle was extinguished.

You turned your face further away in reaction. Not quickly and not in a heavy manner. Just avoiding breathing smoke.

The blanket over you was pulled up to your shoulder, however not by your own hand.

Your eyes fluttered open.

"Th--," you swallowed, "thank you."

"You're welcome," Merlin whispered close to your ear. "Are you comfortable?"

"I'm fine."

"Hmm."

By his tone even in a hum of contemplation there was skepticism.

Though he might act foolish at times, Merlin knew more than he lead on. Meaning, he knew you weren't entirely comfortable while laying on the floor.

"Would it --," Merlin paused, still leaning on his elbow. "You can use my arm....to rest your head. If-- only if you want."

A warmth flooded the skin of your face to your chest.

Sleep was no longer your only concern for the moment.

"I --."

"Yes."

"What? Oh. A -- here." Merlin returned to laying down.

A fumbling of back and forth in the dark, you had your head using your friend's arm as a pillow. Though generous as the action was, it was not ideal.

"Isn't your arm going to be numb?" You asked.

"Probably," he yawned.

That wouldn't do. Not at all.

Letting out a minute huff, you rolled onto your side and delicately put your head on Merlin's shoulder. Holding your breath for a second you judged your actions.

He tensed for a moment. Then nothing else.

"Is....is this comfortable...for you?"

"Yeah." He tucked his arm around you. "It's good."

The flush on your skin faded away as you smiled. Some what.

Being curled up on the floor with Merlin wasn't so bad. Sure Arthur was probably eavesdropping and there'd be a day of training later, however you could let yourself enjoy the little moments life had.

One of your hands was found, though tentatively, by Merlin's free hand. He gave it a light squeeze before placing your hand and his over his heart.

Calluses, impending threats, direct orders, and chores no longer crossed anyone's mind as the night went on. Crickets communicated and the village slept.

As the sun rose lazily on the horizon, Hunith awoke first. From her place in her home she was able to check on her son and his friends.

All were still asleep, possibly dreaming.

She smiled as her eyes focused on her son at the opposite side of the house. There, underneath two blankets laid a peaceful pair.

They're good for each other, Hunith thought as she watched your head rising and falling with each breath Merlin took. Moving to Camelot was good for him.

[momtemplative]

MASKED.

1.

In a house with two young kids, our quickest sanity-stabilizer in this COVID era was to head outside and go for a walk, or a bike ride, or to roller skate. We’d pay close attention to the proximity of passers-by, but typically the grassy fields by the bike paths were an open canvas for the kids to blow off some steam. And we’d all return home a bit winded and slightly more stable. 

Then, a little more than two weeks ago, a strong recommendation came from Governor Polis for everyone to wear masks in public. But what, pray-tell, was “public” referring to? 

Here’s what the CDC endorsed: wearing cloth face coverings in public settings where other social distancing measures are difficult to maintain (e.g., grocery stores and pharmacies) especially in areas of significant community-based transmission.

So that’s what we assumed Polis recommended as well. That night we even had a happy hour gathering with our neighbors, all at least 6-feet-away, but without masks. We didn’t feel like we were being sneaky or non-compliant, we were simply following the guidelines as we understood them. 

But then we started seeing people in their yards wearing masks, and on walks wearing masks— in addition to 6-feet! There was an eerie infiltration of mask-wearers, and, with that, the non-verbal communication of an abrupt change of protocol. Our sacred, oft-traveled, 1,000-step bike path that loops around the block started to feel unfamiliar, as if it were a movie set peppered with strangers, wearing homemade cloth curtains over their cheeks. 

We quickly felt like a minority out there with our bare faces.

2.

An afternoon walk was once a favorite time of day—quarantine or not. Quickly though, in light of the current mask situation, and before I began to wear one, my brain started to get stuck in a grinding pattern of managing everyone else’s whereabouts in accordance with my own. I noticed that I was judging those who were masked, at least in part because I was sure they were judging me. 

Their judgment and my judgment felt cut from the same cloth: judgement as a way of controlling the uncontrollable. There is so much confusion about protocols. So much fear of the radio broadcast of white noise and speculation that is to be our future. All these feelings get lumped together into just trying to do it right. I returned from one particular walk stiff as a board and deeply grumpy.

“Jesse,” I said, “I’m not going on a walk again without a mask.”

3.

I opted out of any domestic sewing of masks at first, and started with my old-lady cardigan tied around my face like a waist. I then upgraded to a bedazzled bandana that I bought to fill Opal’s Easter basket last year. I love the happy fabric, but it wouldn’t stay up over my nose for anything beyond the liquor drive-through (my singular biweekly errand). Store-bought masks are not an option. They’ve been back-ordered for weeks and if the stock is replenished, it needs to be saved for the blessed healthcare workers.

By the next weekend, Jesse and Opal wore masks that they made from a YouTube video, using mustard-yellow t-shirts and rubber bands, while on a bike ride. That ride turned out to be very brief because, according to Opal, it was so hard to breathe. 

4.

The solidarity and confidence that come from wearing a mask are helpful and significant, sure. But the act of wearing a mask changes the experience entirely. 

On a purely physical level, it muddles your peripheral vision, steams up your glasses, makes it hot and very hard to breathe. 

On a social-emotional level, the masks create a real separation between people. It feels similar to being at a costume party—even if the invite list includes most of your friends, everyone is suddenly anonymous. 

I walked behind two people (in masks) and a dog from a block away that I thought were my beloved next door neighbors. I even hollered at them. (They didn't hear me.) Then I got closer and realized it was a different dog and very much not my neighbors. It’s all very disorienting.  

5.

One week in, and Opal has taken Polis’s suggestion as gospel. Of course, I don’t blame her. Sometimes when we are out and about, so is the rest of the neighborhood. During those times, the mask feels safe and dare-I-say comforting. (Like we are good, complaint citizens. Go us.) But other times, there is nobody outside. I tell Opal, “Sweetie, we can keep our masks around our chins until we see someone (dozens of feet away!) and then put up our masks.” 

Opal’s reply: NOT A CHANCE.

I try to imagine what it would be like to experience all this at age ten. What other such details has her system become accustomed to over the last month? Zoom call playdates, online school, little sister around all-the-effing-time. Maybe some feelings come out sideways? Maybe everything seems overwhelming and busy even though very little is happening?

In the olden days, before COVID, any sort of outdoor trek was soul-nourishing for all of us. It ticks a lot of boxes: sunshine, fresh air, exercise for me and the dog and the kids, a brain reset. Now, masked, such an activity is beyond taxing. Ruth has no desire to keep her mask on and she’s a runner. We can bribe her with a lollipop to stay in the stroller, but the girth of the BOB, along with the leashed (80-pound) dog requires skill and intentional footing on an average day. Trying to juggle it all through a face-drape is the emotional equivalent of walking through tar. A guaranteed headache.

Returning to our backyard, with its creaky swingset and patchwork yard, and removing our masks (along with the associated invisible constraints) is beyond restorative.

“That’s the best part about a mask,” Opal said. “Taking it off and having the air taste so fresh and cold again.”

6.

On Sunday morning—a few days ago and two solid weeks into the mask-in-public rules of conduct—the kids were scattered on the floor watching Frozen while I folded laundry and Jesse tinkered away at the sewing machine. Project: to sew face-masks that fit each of us properly. It was a lovely scene of the times. I would imagine Norman Rockwell painting such an episode if he were alive during COVID. A family of four (plus cat, plus dog) in their natural weekend habitat. Slow to dress, sipping juice or coffee, and, sewing face masks.

“Ruth,” Jesse said, “Come on over here and try this on to see if it fits.” Ruth scurried over to him to try on her mask like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Later that day, I walked our dog wearing the mask Jesse so lovingly crafted for me (after three fittings). It was exquisite, hands-free, spacious around the mouth. He even used the sweetest yellow-petal, summer dress fabric. When I returned, I kissed him straight through the mask.

7.

In spite of a good fit, it still takes exponentially more effort to greet someone while masked—you have to yell or over-gesture to compensate for the fact that both of your faces are completely erased. Because we wear ours primarily outside, most people are in sunglasses with their masks. But if not, they are far enough away where eye-reading is not an option. It’s all a straight-up guessing game.

More often than not, for the sake of simplicity, it’s just me and the dog these days. Typically, I have my dog’s leash in my left hand, and a steamy bag of his shit in my right that gets carried for countless unpleasant blocks. This is due to the lack of public trash facilities on the neighborhood routes I find are easier to navigate within the guidelines of 6-feet-between. Bike paths are pretty tight if there isn’t open space to veer off on either side. And now I’ve got my mask on, and fogged-up sunglasses. The uniform is similar to that of someone on Halloween in a last-minute ghost-sheet costume, with just the eyes cut out, cobbling along with both hands full. This is not a “path is the journey” sort of moment. I’m lucky if I can twitch out a head-nod or an elbow-wave to a passer-by.

It feels important to counteract the separation that has become synonymous with health and life. But I’d be lying if I said I was able to muster a greeting every time.

8.

In our culture, masks (when not worn in a medical setting) often represent sinister actions—bandits or bank robbers or the KKK who want to hide defining features.

For many Asian countries, mask-wearing was a cultural norm even before the coronavirus outbreak. In East Asia, many people are used to wearing masks when they are sick or when it's hayfever season, because it's considered impolite to sneeze or cough in public.

The 2003 Sars virus outbreak, which affected several countries in the region, also drove home the importance of wearing masks, particularly in Hong Kong, where many died as a result of the virus. Says the BBC news: “One key difference between these societies and Western ones, is that they have experienced a contagion before—and the memories are still fresh and painful.”

I recently read a story about two black men who were wearing masks at Walmart—fully in compliance and trying to keep themselves safe—when they were accosted by police. It hit me like a whip how individualized each of us are experiencing this pandemic. I skoff at my mask because it’s a pain-in-the-ass. But I’ll never be faced with also having to weigh the risks of racial profiling.

Delving further, I read that to-mask-or-not-to-mask has become a way to take a political stance. Trump supporters carrying “My body, My choice” signs, with an illustration of a crossed-out mask—this is a common image to see in the media right now.

The Washington Post said: “Even as governors, mayors and the federal government urge or require Americans to wear masks in stores, transit systems and other public spaces to contain the spread of the novel coronavirus, the nation is divided about whether to comply. And it is divided in painfully familiar ways — by politics and by attitudes about government power and individual choice.”

So, clearly, it is about so much more than just a mask.  

9.  

This just in. 

In a press conference that took place a few days ago, April 20th, Governor Jared Polis and state epidemiologist Dr. Rachel Herlihy outlined how life may change in Colorado as soon as next week, when “shelter-in-place” shifts to “safer-at-home.” They are essentially the same, just with a select few businesses opening with strict distancing rules and incremental shifts toward less physical distancing over all. Polis mentions nothing different about mask-wearing. Meaning, still wear them in public, especially if you can’t get 6-feet-between, especially if you’ve been exposed or have symptoms.

I noticed an immediate difference on my walk following his announcement. There was a family of four playing frisbee in an open space without masks! My initial feeling was wait, WTF? (And yes, I realize we are living in a strange state of affairs for my initial reaction to a beautiful family frolicking in a field to be contempt.) There was a man throwing a ball for his dog in a park that still had many visible CLOSED signs—also NO MASK. (Again, WTF??) I then gave a wide, grassy birth to a group of mask-free bike riders. 

I notice my mask feels more like a burden on my face without the unifying solidarity of everyone doing it. We all seem to be getting different memos.

There’s a huge relief that people are back to having faces, to be sure. I miss people. I love faces. But I have to admit that in spite of my hemming and hawing, I’d gotten used to feeling protected. It’s impossible to make sense of any of it. Even little Ruth came in yesterday and gave a tiny cough. “I’m sick,” she said, “Since I didn’t wear a mask today.” 

Circling back to the facts, the only thing worth grasping at right now, I am challenged to find any bit of news to suggest that our household need to be wearing masks while out on walks—under any level of regulation thus far. Neither Jesse nor myself are working outside of the house. We don’t visit with friends or family. (Big sigh.* We miss everyone terribly.) The odds of us being silent carriers are beyond slim. We are not immuno-compromised. So wearing masks these last few weeks—while still on socially distanced walks—could probably be categorized as an act of cultural alignment, an act of doing everything we can for the cause. 

As of right now, this moment, I do not see our mask-wearing as being impactful to our macro OR micro community. So, for the sake of preserving the sanity of our tiny culture for the long haul, I vote that we wear our beautifully-Jesse-crafted masks on our chins, like flattened feathers at the ready. 

“As it (the “safer-at-home” regulations) rolls off April 27, we need to figure out how to run the marathon now that we’ve run the sprint,” Governor Polis said in his most recent press conference. “I hate to break it to you, but the easy part was the sprint.”

[6ftgirlfriend]

Falling For Stars

Collaborators: @sweetdreamsjetaime 💝/ edited by @lovebird1517 💖

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Lucas Lallemant/Eliott Demaury

Summary: Rising star, Lucas Lallemant, has no clue what’s going on. For all he knows, his costar, Eliott Demaury, doesn’t give a fuck about him. He had made that pretty clear when he got all cozy with his girlfriend, Lucille, right in front of him. So can someone explain to him why the hell everyone thinks they’re dating? or Co-Stars to lovers!AU with all the angst/fluff and French shenanigans to keep me up at night!

Episode 1 - Regret.

AO3 Link

.

.

.

He was falling into oblivion, willingly with no sense of control

Falling from the heavens, they would shine so bright

Falling into the ocean of his eyes,

they would pierce through the soul

Falling into the storms of his embrace, they would unravel the heart

The collision was inevitable, the comet’s end

No shooting star should feel this, to be a burning and dying wish

It was endlessly cold, infinitely dark amongst the others

He was the fallen star, forever trying to stay ablaze…

—The Little Lone Star

.

.

.

SAMEDI 9:12

Lucas jolts awake by a sudden noise. He’s brought back to reality when he hears the roaring echoes of the shower being turned on.

He squints up at a pale ceiling that was not his own.  His was made out of glass that allowed him to gaze up at the stars whenever life got too rough. He’s always found comfort in them, but they are not here right now to calm his beating heart. Where the hell is he?  The bed sheets curled around his torso are definitely not his. They are soft and comforting yet suffocating at the same time. The tidiness and luxury of the bed are a sharp contrast to how messy and average he remembers his to be. He feels out of place. Seriously? What the hell is happening? The grey curtains hanging loosely against the glass frames barely prevent any sunlight from seeping through. Lucas almost goes blind while trying to blink his heavy eyes open.  He feels dizzy, disoriented and worst of all; like total absolute shit. Fuck! How much did he drink last night?

The hangover reduces Lucas to nothing but a living corpse. He tries his hardest to sober up, but every single one of his brain cells is screaming at him to stop overworking them.  Not only is the sun trying to blind him, but the birds outside are chirping loudly to God knows what tune. The sounds of bustling cars and productivity outside rang through his ears and intensifies his headache. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs at the absolute mess it is.  Suddenly, a cool breeze grazes his exposed skin sending a shiver through his whole body and leaving goosebumps in its wake. He curls up in the bedding once more but sits up in surprise when he notices that he was completely naked and space next to him is empty. He truly loathed his existence at the moment.

Lucas looks around the room with a big frown. The scattered clothes on the floor and the lone ripped condom packet by the trashcan don’t leave much to the imagination. Fuck, he had sex with someone yesterday in his drunken daze, didn’t he?

Lucas groans from the realization. He reaches for his clothes by the bed and tries to get dressed quickly. The sooner he gets the hell out of where ever the fuck he is, the quicker he would feel sane again.

He stops halfway through putting his shirt on when he hears the shower turn off. He turns to see an unfamiliar figure step out of the bathroom. Lucas chokes on air. The guy in front of him is half-naked, and Lucas’s brain short circuits. Droplets of water slowly drip down the man’s body, and Lucas uses his remaining self-control not to combust on the spot.

The nameless man seems unfazed by Lucas’s presence and proceeds to shake his damp chocolate curls into a small towel; his arm muscles flex with every movement. He looks unreal with a lean body that’s as tall as the door frame and broad, muscular shoulders. His skin is pale, and the yellow tint of sunlight makes him look as if he’s glowing.

Lucas snaps out of his daze and mentally scolds himself for thirsting over a stranger. The shame he was feeling a few moments ago comes back to hit him once again at full force.

Lucas doesn’t properly look at the guy’s face, but he knows.

It’s not him.

This man, as hot as he is, is not the one he wishes him to be. The one he dreams he could wake up to every morning. The one he wants is not his to take and keep. Lucas can’t even fantasize about what it would feel like to be with him. Yet, there’s an invisible pull that always leads straight to him.

Him, who, ever since the beginning, would send his heart running for the hills whenever he made eye contact with those steel blue eyes. God those eyes.

Lucas is too hungover to handle all this shit this early in the morning. He feels like an avalanche is submerging him. His whole body is frozen, and his heart is heavy. He fucked up. He really fucked up this time.

It hits him out of nowhere as the events of last night clear up in his head.

Regret.

***

YESTERDAY NIGHT, VENDREDI 21:41

The camera lights are flashing and lighting up the night. Lucas scoffs at all the people dressed in big fancy gowns and expensive suits. He wants to tell them that this is The César Awards and not a fashion show. Lucas lets it go because he won’t allow any negativity tonight.

He’s rejoicing because Je T’aime won Best Film. It’s the first movie Lucas played in that gained so much success. He even got nominated for the award of Best Actor because of it, but sadly he lost it to his costar, Eliott Demaury.

Lucas’s not even mad about it because anyone that has ever worked with Eliott knows that the man has a natural talent in acting.

Lucas remembers how shocked he was when he received the news that he would be staring along Eliott. Around that time, Lucas’s career in acting was starting to pick up after the public loved his performance in La Honte. His portrayal of a struggling teen with Tourette’s syndrome blew the masses away because it was the first time they saw mental illness depicted in a positive light. Two days after the news, he got to read over the script and instantly fell in love.

The film was based off a best-selling novel; about a Canadian teen, Hugo Babineaux, sent to study abroad in Paris, France. While there, he falls for his host family’s eldest son, Julien Favre. Julien is a devout Catholic, but couldn’t resist falling in love with the Hugo. Their forbidden love is passionate and bittersweet, as the film touches on the issues of homophobia and religion—the journey of coming to accept one’s sexuality and owning up to who you want to be.

Lucas practiced day and night to make sure he matched Eliott’s talent and did the role of Hugo justice.

But no amount of practice could have prepared him for the first time he met Eliott. Because fucking hell, the guy was beyond gorgeous in person.

Eliott’s icy gaze left Lucas breathless.

And I’m falling so hard for you.

He almost broke his neck from having to gaze up at him.

Would you be there to catch me, too?

He couldn’t be real. Those luminous caramel locks had to be made from strands of silk, entwisted, like a storm. He looked like an angel among men.

Maybe I should keep this to myself.

It was honestly intimidating to be working first time with such a renowned actor.

Waiting ‘til I know you better.

Lucas could only hope his weak, stupid heart could take it.

I don’t wanna be something you can throw away.

The film was a massive hit; the fans went crazy for the chemistry that Lucas and Eliott shared. They were the perfect duo. Lucas had come to understand everyone’s fondness towards Eliott, especially when he smiled so big that it reached his eyes. Or how his kind and bright demeanor would light up the room. But those little things shouldn’t matter. Why should he care that Eliott made his heart flip every time he enters a room? 

It’s nothing but stage fright jitters. Lucas would reassure himself. 

Eliott is an enigma. His happy-go-lucky attitude is a starch contrast to the vivid and dynamic characters he plays. His first role was that of a blind prodigal genius painter who had to adapt to life after a tragic accident flipped his whole world upside down. His performance in the movie landed him many awards, and he became one of the youngest actors to win the prestigious award in France.

Despite the unworldly harmony between Lucas and Eliott on the big screen and during interviews, it’s an entirely different story behind the scenes.

Anyone who knew these two could see the tension between them. Eliott loves to tease, calling him a hedgehog because of his wild spiky hair, and Lucas tries very hard not to blush every time he touched it.  He also tends to sneak up on him and whisper random things in his ears, and that makes Lucas lose his mind. And Eliott’s answer to his flustered face is to outright laugh at him. Why did he let this guy get to him so much? Every time they would touch even by accident, Lucas would feel breathless.

Eliott must be doing it on purpose; he must enjoy seeing Lucas reduced to a complete mess.

But Lucas is done with these little games.

He plans to confront Eliott tonight and ask him exactly what the hell they are.

Lucas tried his best to avoid doing relationships, only settling for one night stands. He’s too scared of the paparazzi invading his privacy. Besides, Lucas isn’t out to the public yet. But he feels something for Eliott and is willing to risk it all for the chance of being in a relationship with him.

Lucas makes his way backstage to Eliott’s dressing room where the talk will take place. If everything goes well, they would be boyfriends by the end of the night. He abruptly stops when he sees Eliott in front of the room arms hooked around the small waist of a brunette. Lucas has seen her before. Her name’s Lucille Dubois; a supermodel, singer, and songwriter. She’s famous and loved by everyone. Lucas swallows the lump in his throat. They look good together. Perfect.

Of course, they would be dating. Lucas turns away, and his heart clenches at the reality that nothing could ever happen between Eliott and him. All the sneaky touches and stolen looks were for nothing. He can’t believe he let himself think that there was a chance Eliott would like him back.

He needs a drink. Now.

He heads straight out for the bar.

***

After only a few shots, the world around Lucas starts to spin, and he feels the adrenaline pumping through his whole body.  

That’s when he sees it: a pair of long legs striding towards him in determination. Muscular and veiny hands pull him wrap around his waist and pull him in a tight hug. There’s barely any space between them, and Lucas shivers when a deep voice whispers in his eyes.

Lucas wishes the nameless hands buried in his hair belong to Eliott. But the reality hits when the man says in a low and raspy voice.

“I’m Étienne.”

Lucas looks away from his lips to his darkening eyes. Lucas is sure he won’t remember the name for very long, but he nods and presses his lips against his in a heated kiss.

He doesn’t know how they got to the apartment. Which wall he’s currently pressed against, but Lucas doesn’t complain. Their clothes are gone the moment they get to the bedroom.

Behind his closed lids, Lucas sees red flashes of visions. Is it another daydream? A memory? All he sees are familiar dark eyes piercing through him. Not now, please. Lucas runs his hand through Étienne’s hair in hopes of distracting himself from thinking of Eliott.

Why is he in my mind right now?

Étienne’s warm lips trace Lucas’s collarbone, and Lucas wonders what Eliott’s lips will feel like on his skin. He hates the fact that he’s so jealous of Lucille. All Lucas wanted to do when he saw Lucille wrapped in Eliott’s arms was to replace her. He wants to be the one that gets to kiss Eliott every time he wants and feel his beautiful hands on his body.

But that would never happen because Eliott doesn’t love me.

.

.

.

PRESENT, SAMEDI 9:31

A voice fades in,“…—cas, Lucas? Hello? Still with me?”

Lucas blinks at the waving hand in from his face. He cranes his neck up to look into a pair of concerned onyx eyes.

“Great, you’re back. You scared me.” Ethan? Elias? Says with a sigh.

His face immediately lights up when he locks eyes with Lucas.

“How was the view from up there? Did you catch any stars?”

His deep voice brings Lucas back to reality. Lucas must have been mentally gone for a long time because the man was now dressed in dark jeans and a black hoodie. He was also holding a coffee cup in each hand. The aroma of the drinks makes him crave the caffeine he needed to wake up.

Lucas quirks his lips because he’s suddenly feeling shy. He’s still half-naked and is in desperate need of a shower. He stares at the wall behind the boy trying to find his way out of this shitty situation.

‘I’m sorry, but it’s been fun.’ No, too passive. ‘Look, this can’t happen again.�� Too insensitive. ‘It’s not you; it’s me?’ What a fucking cliche.

“Uh, ahem—No stars, just really tired.” He settles avoiding eye contact at all cost.

“Yeah, I get that.” The pretty stranger chuckles softly with a coy smirk.

“I mean we didn’t get much sleep last night. Are you sure you are okay?”

Lucas nods shyly, cheeks heating up.  

“Good. How about some coffee? Croissants?” The guy smiles brightly and gosh, why does he have to be so lovely? It only makes him feel ten times worst for what he’s about to do.

“Coffee should do, thank you…?” Lucas dragged it out, waiting for a name as he takes the cup of coffee. The handsome stranger seems to get the memo and answers quickly. “It’s Étienne, Étienne Calvet.” Étienne’s smile grows wider when Lucas almost spills coffee on himself.

Étienne Calvet. The name rings a bell; he’s a famous model in Paris. He has soulful eyes and perfect features that are often present on brand names such as Givenchy, Lanvin, Prada, and YSL. Lucas heard a lot about him because Étienne is also a writer and openly bisexual. Lucas mentally scolds himself for not realizing who he is sooner.

“No need to thank me. Listen, last night, we didn’t have time to introduce ourselves, but I know you. Lucas Lallemant, right?”

Lucas could only nod, still in shock. Étienne squeals.

“Wow! I can’t believe it. You almost won the César Awards. Congratulations on the nomination! The movie was beautiful. That scene where he dives into the ocean when he found out—” Étienne goes onto praising Je T'aime in great detail.

Lucas wants to dig a grave and bury himself in it. Étienne sounds genuinely interested and excited like a fanboy meeting their favorite celebrity for the first time. Lucas is not sure if he should be flattered or creeped out.

He doesn’t have much time to think about it. He needs to come clean to this guy. He swallows his guilt down and proceeds to grab the sheets around his waist, giving Étienne a stern look as he gets up from the bed.

“Look, thank you, Étienne.” Étienne’s smile only gets brighter.  

“For everything but I’m sorry this…” Lucas gestures between them. “It can’t happen again…” Lucas feels like vanishing into thin air when he sees Étienne’s eyes dime slightly. He gazes downward for a few seconds before bringing his face back up with his signature smile.

“As I said before, no need to thank me. But could we at least be friends?” Étienne is now looking down at the ground again, resembling a kicked puppy. He has a way of making Lucas feel like a total dick.

Lucas knows it’s not a good idea. He should decline and spare Étienne the heartbreak, but he’s not thinking clearly right now. So he holds out his hand with a small smile.

“Okay. Just friends.”

***

***

SAMEDI 10:19

After almost an hour or so, Lucas finally steps out into the streets of Paris. After running through the shower and exchanging numbers with Étienne, they said their goodbyes. Étienne’s hopeful expression is going to haunt Lucas forever. But for now, Lucas pushes all that away and focuses on getting home.

Lucas has always loved mornings the most out of all the times of the day. Fresh air, dew on the pavement and the calming ambiance are precisely what he needs at the moment to relax.

Which is why he decides to take a short walk around the city. He still can’t believe he slept with a complete stranger. A part of him gets it; he was heartbroken and miserable. For fuck sakes, the guy he loves is dating another person. He had every right to act on his emotions. He fell for Eliott like those shooting stars he sees every night before falling asleep. Ugh.

He shakes his head to snap out of his negative thoughts. This needs to stop. Seriously. He needs to focus.

Lost in thought, Lucas doesn’t notice a group of suspicious men following him. The men were discreetly taking pictures of Lucas, trying to figure out where he was last night. According to the rumors, Lucas left with a special someone. They were vultures preying on the carcass of any previous night’s drama.

They wanted to be the first one to get the scoop, and so they hurriedly make their way to an unsuspecting Lucas.

“Lucas Lallemant! Monsieur Lallemant! Can we ask what your whereabouts were last night!?”

Fuck. My. Life.

Lucas mentally curses his luck. He knew this was going to happen eventually, but why now? Lucas knows he looks like complete crap right now, and that’s not an appropriate look for the cameras. Great fucking timing. The universe must be laughing at him.

“Monsieur Lallemant, are you aware of the rife speculations that you might be seeing someone? Can you tell us who!” One of them urges boldly. What kind of sick question is that? Lucas is shaking; not only from anger but also from fear.

His fears of being outed. He’s afraid the world would criticize him, and people would label him as just another “gay icon.” He didn’t want to be a label. He’s just a man named Lucas that happens to like other men. That should not be a reason for people to criticize him.

Did they see us? Who else saw him leave the party?

Lucas is usually really good at dealing with the mobs of paparazzi, but today, he is beyond exhausted. Not wanting to start a scene, he quickly covers his face and flees from the scene. He vaguely hears them say something about a hickey at the back of his neck followed with the sounds of cameras flashing.

His eyes widen in panic.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Lucas can’t breathe because his lungs are now filled with dread. His heart is drumming quickly in his chest.  

Flashes of this father’s disappointed scowl washed over him. He feels sick to his stomach. His dad hated his existence already, so what would he think when he founds out Lucas is gay?

He would probably say with a disgusted face that he was disappointed in Lucas.

No!

Why should he even bother if he’s going to be a disappointment anyway?

Shut up!

Why can’t he be like the others? He just had to end up being the unwanted gay son, didn’t he?

Stop it!

Lucas starts running; becoming one with the wind. He is running away from not only the paparazzi but also all his problems. His heels are clicking on the stone pavement as he zooms past pedestrians and street performers. 

Could this day get any worse?

And the universe gladly accepts the challenge. Within the next moment, his phone starts vibrating from a message. Lucas abruptly slows down and hesitantly pulls the device from his pocket, unlocking the screen.

It’s from him.

Eliott.

Eliott: “Mind telling me why people are saying we started dating?”

Eliott: “You could’ve asked me first, Lulu. ♥️”

The next text sent makes his heart drop. It’s a slightly blurry picture of himself leaving the bar. He looks extremely drunk and is holding hands with someone. Lucas is a hundred percent sure it’s Étienne dragging Lucas to his apartment. Thank fuck, the picture is so blurry no one could see anything but Lucas. However, the headline reads, “WHO WAS THIS MYSTERIOUS NEW FLAME?” And the article goes into details of webbing lies out of the photo.  

It’s like time had stopped and the world froze. Lucas’ head is pounding from everything that’s happening at once.  

This was it — the biggest mistake of his life.

He wishes for a falling star to crash upon him. He just wants it to end it all.

//

TO BE CONTINUED…

//

(A/N: Oh.My.God. This is my first time writing fanfiction, guys! I hope you guys enjoyed it!! Special thanks to @sweetdreamsjetaime and @lovebird1517 for helping me!

Additional info: I’m thinking of making this into a tv show format about these two soulmates having to work for their love (the angst, the drama!) but it’ll be worth it by the end. There’s going to be behind the scenes content too (meaning; covers, magazines, and social media content?), so watch out for those (SKAM style👀). I would also love to read your feedback and any thoughts you have on the story! ☺️ Thank you so much for reading! Best wishes!🌠)

[podcastsaliens-blog]

The 13 Best Out This World Podcasts of 2019.

As 2019 comes to a close the one thing that stands out in the Fortean world is UFOs and how they went mainstream this year. No longer relegated to blogs and the History Channel, news outlets like CNN, Fox, The Times, and so many more have placed UFO related stories on the forefront of their news. From the Navy announcing new UFO reporting processes, to storming Area 51, everyone was talking about the subject.

 One medium that was ahead of the curve and has taken the subject seriously for a long time is podcasting. There is no shortage of shows that focus on the UFO phenomenon, but some stand out above all the others. The best shows covering this topic are fun, informative, and bingeworthy. They tell you the story, lay out the facts, and have some laughs along the way.

 With that in mind, here are the 13 best “Out Of This World” podcasts that you should be listening to right now.

  1)   Hysteria 51

Hysteria 51 is a weekly podcast that takes an every-man approach to the world of the weird – aliens, mysteries, the paranormal, the unusual, and the unexplained. Hosts John Goforth, Brent Hand, and Conspiracy Bot (a cranky robot bent on world domination who also happens to be the show’s head researcher) examine a different topic each week and generally come to one conclusion…the truth is out there, but you won’t find it here.

Brent and John’s dedication as researchers specializing in UFO and Paranormal topics has helped turn Hysteria 51 into a household name in the “world of the weird”.

 Listen Here - https://open.spotify.com/show/7b2wEEXKbCdA6ziac1VlmN

   2)   Stuff They Don’t Want You To  Know

Since 2008, Stuff They Don't Want You To Know has delved into the murky world of everything from UFOs to lost cosmonauts and allegations of the paranormal, applying critical thinking to the world's most prevalent conspiracy theories and, more often than not, discovering the disturbing grains of truth hidden in the heart of paranoia. Join Ben Bowlin, Matt Fredrick, and Noel Brown as they embark on their continuing quest to fit the puzzle pieces together, to connect the dots and follow the breadcrumbs into the truth behind the curtain, from the furthest reaches of the universe to the innermost depths of the human mind.

Listen Here - https://open.spotify.com/show/5N6g8n6084T5D6Q67yGCUX

   3)   Somewhere In The Skies

Somewhere in the Skies is a weekly podcast dedicated to discussing UFOs, the paranormal, and just plain weird. Hosted by author and UFO journalist, Ryan Sprague, the show features current UFO events from around the world, audio docs, and special guests. Join Ryan as he asks new questions, and perhaps even finds some answers to the mysteries that lay somewhere in the skies.

Listen Here - https://open.spotify.com/show/1g0MSTxiHo4KvtrUxhr6II

   4)   Blurry Photos

Blurry Photos explores the unexplained, explains the unexplored, and seeks the facts behind the fiction of the world’s most fascinating, unbelievable, and chilling mysteries and legends. Focusing on lesser-known topics of Forteana, conspiracy, history, and folklore, Blurry Photos is driven by the desire for a better understanding of fringe subjects through research, storytelling, and rational thinking. Listeners have said it’s like a contemporary audio version of “In Search Of,” and it’s “like Lore with a personality and a better narrator.”

Listen Here - https://open.spotify.com/show/3H2qXkTnlrSL9l36CjGVxj

   5)   Last Podcast On The Left

Last Podcast on the Left barrels headlong into all things horror — as hosts Ben Kissel, Marcus Parks and Henry Zebrowski cover dark subjects spanning Ufology, werewolves, Jonestown, iconic hauntings, the history of war crimes, and more.

Whether it's cults, killers, or cryptid encounters, Last Podcast on the Left laughs into the abyss that is the dark side of humanity.

Listen Here - https://open.spotify.com/show/3yZg2MCkf31pPXiG4nznrg

   6)   Our Strange Skies

Our Strange Skies is a biweekly podcast that delves into the stories of ordinary people encountering the "unidentified" in their backyards and beyond. Each episode explores the UFOs and otherworldly beings that inhabit UFO subculture, and looks at what's left once you remove skepticism and belief.

Listen Here - https://open.spotify.com/show/5qF2ehEiVnQ8JCvajGZivG

   7)   Monsters Among Us

Monsters Among Us Podcast is a show about UFOs, cryptid creatures, and those lucky enough to have witnessed them. Their focus is to provide a platform for witnesses to tell their tale in a safe and encouraging environment. Their mission is to give those with a tale to tell the stage to do so. All stories presented are true to the best of their knowledge so grab a seat, turn off the lights and tune in, boy do they have a story for you!

Listen Here - https://open.spotify.com/show/6GsF43OrzLJKCIMjzFVKym

   8)     The Joe Rogan Experience

From comedian, UFC commentator and TV host, Joe Rogan. "The Joe Rogan Experience" is a long form, in-depth conversation with the best guests from the comedy world, the sports world, the science world and everything between. Joe’s celebrity has afforded him the ability to interview many important names in the UFO world that do not usually do interviews. People such as Bob Lazar, Tom Delonge, and Cmdr. David Fravor to name a few.

Listen Here - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0DQwuItv7pjVUmiuCGvqmM

   9)     The Mad Scientist Podcast

The Mad Scientist Podcast is a comedy show about the history and philosophy of science and pseudoscience. Hosted by Chris Cogswell and Marie Mayhew, they talk about all the weird stuff your science textbook left out. Because sometimes, the best way to learn how to think like a scientist is to talk about all the bad science floating around out there!

Listen Here - https://open.spotify.com/show/6W7w8EWQZbz6lXW2dKfBMX

   10)                  Alien Theorists Theorizing

A comedy/conspiracy podcast discussing all things in the world of: Conspiracy, Aliens, Science, Space and the Supernatural. Zel, Braden, Andrew, and Dan bring their unique, comedic approach aliens, space news, and the like.

Listen here - https://open.spotify.com/show/38hrYEIlNzErO7XtfdZUaS

   11)                  Unknown Podcast

This weekly podcast is a round table discussion (or is it saucer shaped?) led by a team of UFO journalists and researchers who approach the UFO subject with responsible skepticism and the scientific, journalistic attention it deserves. Each episode they discuss current UFO stories, revisit the history of the modern UFO era, and visit with special guests as they explore the mysterious and fascinating UFO subject.

 Listen Here - https://open.spotify.com/show/6qK7hpoBXceODtJ4Ua33nz

   12)                  Black Vault Radio

The Black Vault Radio with John Greenewald, Jr. dives deep into the world of secret

U.S. Government and Military History spanning more than a half century. Using an archive of 2,000,000 declassified government documents as a starting point, Greenewald speaks to some of the most brilliant minds on the planet trying to get to the truth.

Listen Here - https://open.spotify.com/show/1w1G5z9fSAWUCXRP0hc7zz

    13)                  The Cryptonaut Podcast

The Cryptonaut Podcast, hosted by Marc Storrs, Chris Carnicelli and Rob Morphy, explores everything from Aliens, Cryptozoology, Cryptids, Ghosts, Monsters, The Occult, Paranormal Phenomenon, UFOs, Ufology and Unsolved Mysteries................ all while

keeping a close eye on our reptilian overlords that dwell in the flat, hallow, robot infested Earth.

Listen Here - https://open.spotify.com/show/3QXANIcNJZGQAwiyyKRLUN

   By Raymond Walden IV

Cover Photo by Miriam Espacio on Unsplash

[skamamoroma]

You Are Not From Milan - Thoughts (Part 1)

So this one was always going to be a game changer and I’m sorry for taking a while to write my thoughts. I didn’t think people were too interested in more of my ramblings but then I got quite a few requests so here we are!

First off, I’m so grateful to those people who have helped shed light on what Nico might be experiencing and the illness he lives with. Education on this stuff is so important and I really found it so interesting to read about people’s experiences because only then can you really appreciate what the show is trying to do. Some of that information really did inform us and enabled so many of us to really understand Nico a little more and ESPECIALLY some of the moments in this clip... because yeah, Bessegato might be a bit arrogant etc (!) but nobody can deny that Skam Italia have worshipped Marti and Nico as characters (and others - especially Gio) and I feel the love for these characters in each clip and this one was absolutely no exception despite some of it being very difficult stuff.

This is long. I’m making myself clear right now because if you fall asleep mid way through or even before then, NOBODY could blame you, but some people asked for it so here it is! <3

First off, Bessegato with this cinematography. I love that we get a really poppy, upbeat song with the two of them on the train either kissing or taking selfies or both. It’s youthful and cute and fun to see them spending time together and doing pretty typical sweet stuff with one another. 

I think the main thing I felt when I watched the start of this clip was the comfort they have together. We’re straight off the back of Nico being upset, his mother behaving as she did, Marti being a little uncomfortable and Nico apologising and telling Marti he wants to sleep next to him. That broke my heart. The way he said it was so simple but said SO MUCH. When we were in his room with him and he was asking Marti to leave, you could hear two things so clearly: how much he DIDN’T want that to happen and also how much he desperately wanted comfort. I keep coming back to that because I didn’t feel that with Even. I felt different wants and desires from him but with Nico I just always get this overwhelming feeling that he needs comfort and someone to just SEE him and gather him up. When Rocco said his word was ‘vulnerability’ with Nico, it shows. A lot. 

So the fact that straight off the back of that comment from Nico, we have him being able to spend time with Marti with nobody else there is something we KNOW will be very special. 

And that’s the key thing. NOBODY ELSE THERE. This is Milan. Day and night time and the only other person we see during the entire clip, despite them being in the open, in a central location, is the lady introducing the flat. 

Now, I’ve said this before but I love Skam’s realism. It’s why I’m drawn to it so much. But I also love how Skam Italia has stuck close to realism but drawn a little more on the cinematic aspects. I’m down for that. I’ve adored it. This clip, for me, was by far the most cinematic and I’m kind of thrilled because I often feel like, to depict mental illness, things like camera angles, light, sound, shot length, cinematography tricks and metaphors are WONDERFUL. Something from the original (and the og had much less of a cinematic feel which worked perfectly for it) that I adored was the impact the scene changes were when Even was taking deep breaths and unable to sit still. Those breaths going straight into a black screen was genius and still gives me chills to this day. Those effects, you can say so so much with them and it seems they used that but in really subtle ways. It’s not really STARKLY obvious that nobody is around until you really think about it. 

We kind of have a first introduction into them being the Last Men on Earth.

The little kiss Marti gives Nico is a lovely book end moment to their scene outside the school, isn’t it? Marti feels a little more able to be open but again, THERE IS NOBODY AROUND. Not a soul. When I watched the clip again after realising nobody was visible, it changed it all for me. I actually got shivers because it was EXACTLY like Marti explained... if you’re the last person on earth - WHAT WOULD YOU DO. Possibilities are endless.

I loved the giddy teenage response to the fancy apartment. It was so sweet and that VIEW. The fact that Nico specifically asks for the skyscrapers was SO DAMN SWEET. Ah. It’s such a youthful thing to do - SHOW ME THE BIG BUILDINGS. Tbh I’m the same, I’m a sucker for a good view. 

I think it’s here we realise how expensive this must have been.... the apartment with THAT view. We know that Nico was, at this point, experiencing an episode due to his illness but what is so telling is that he chose to rent an apartment. That was his choice in that moment and he wanted a safe and quite space with Marti with pretty views. I mean. NICO. Romance runs in his veins. 

THE NOSE BOOP. So familiar, so bloody cute and so playful. This is NOTHING new to them but just confirms how they are together and they are LOVELY.

AND THEN THE CURTAINS. Now @only-in-dreamland wrote a pretty special post about the curtains that I LOVE. Go read it. When I watched this back I wondered what the point of including that was. It’s not really a throwaway comment, it’s said a couple of times and I think this wonderful post on the meaning could be pretty spot on because those curtains are so important later on. 

I loved the music in the background too. It’s whimsical, plinky plonky kind of music. It made the whole scene feel film-like, alongside that purple blue sky and the little lights from the cool buildings. Contrasted with the scene taking place, it made it a little disconcerting too because towards the end, you can see Marti’s not entirely sure how to behave because Nico is being pretty forward and a little different to how we’ve seen him before. 

AND THEN THE SCENE WHICH RENDERS ME SPEECHLESS. 

First off, that gorgeous moment of the two of them leaning on the balcony looking at their pretty view that’s all theirs.... it’s so child like with wonder but also so damn romantic. I love that Marti says they’ve been to one of the buildings opposite as it means they spent time together during the day. Knowing that is such a comfort. 

Nico looks so calm with Marti, really happy and very smiley as we know him to be so when Marti looks back and they just giggle... it’s a really beautiful moment. They are always happy to be together, always smiling. It’s like their trademark THING at this point. Marti just looks so smitten, so at ease and completely mesmerised by Nico. It’s almost dream-like again. 

And then we have the RED. Everything till this point is so BLUE. The sky, the buildings, Marti’s clothes (OF COURSE), the view.... and then there’s this BOLD RED and it’s also another of their things. This sharp change in colour which normally means a change in mood. 

This moment with the neon sign is one of my absolute favourites so far this whole season. 

First off, the music. From the RED PILL BLUES album. Come onnnnnnn! Perfect. The song is one I’d have NEVER considered but my god, it’s perfect. some of the lyrics “keep me connected to you” and “you wanna be reckless, restless right until tomorrow”.... but lastly “WHEN WE CLOSE THE CURTAINS”. God damn it. THOSE CURTAINS AGAIN.

Not to mention this song is sexy as hell. It’s just one of THOSE songs with that slow beat... amazinggggg song choice, I can’t even cope with how good it is. 

But then you have Nico asking Marti about the sign and there’s something so sweet about Marti’s “um, how?” and you can see Nico feels the same. He’s endlessly charmed by Marti but in this moment he chooses his own version. It’s like he wants the scene to be perfect, to be THEM and only them for this short period of time. It’s like a title to a tv show, like he’s making this time MARTI AND NICO and nobody else, so much so that it’s written all over the wall to make it clear. The way he does it though, the way he points and walks slowly and smiles and laughs a little at Marti’s confusion before catching him in a kiss... it’s so cinematic my heart couldn’t handle it but it’s that kind of overwhelming, bowl you over kind of sensual cinematic moment that has you swooning but the music makes it more than that, it’s actually intoxicating. I usually hate that work but god does it explain this scene. 

HOW ANYONE CAN COMPLAIN ABOUT THIS SCENE NOT BEING ENOUGH IS HONESTLY BEYOND ME. I’ve rarely seen a heterosexual love scene with intimacy like this nevermind a same sex couple. 

The slow kisses are completely perfect especially considering their happy bouncy kisses in the cabin. This is a ‘take your time’ kiss. Rocco and Fede floor me in this scene. Truly. Every moment is so full of LOVE and CONNECTION and it is almost difficult to watch because it feels very private. They’ve always had this instant easy kind of chemistry but this is a change from the cabin’s frantic kissing, this is soulful and full of touches that say so much without words....! They barely stop touching. The fact that they always touch each other’s faces is painfully sweet because it’s that awe and gentle sweetness they’ve shown time and time again. 

For Marti, it makes me so happy because this is what he deserves. He looks SO comfortable, so happy, so into every moment that it’s kind of breathtaking to see. I couldn’t help but feel so emotional for him because he’s getting the physical part of a relationship he has no doubt wanted but never known if it was possible for him... 

The “private dancer” moment is actually intimate as hell and crazy sexy with Nico helping Marti slide his clothes over his head. People cannot watch this and feel they’re being shortchanged in terms of depicting same sex love and intimacy because it is painfully intimate. 

Lets have a moment to appreciate Rocco’s insane and beautiful curly messy hair because it’s wild in this moment and such a lovely touch in comparison to Marti’s own hair. The shadow effects are absolutely stunning because you focus in on what is important and the detail is simply not necessary. 

AND THEN NICO KISSES MARTI’S HEART and my own heart hurt. We know Nico is a romantic. We know he adores Marti but god. GOD. He does it in such a way that it’s obvious he has chosen to kiss over Marti’s heart, he’s trying to say so much without saying it. 

There’s something they both have done since day one and that’s hold the other in place when they kiss and it makes me a bit emotional!!!! Marti does it quite a bit in this moment, keeps Nico close with his hands or guides him closer to him. Those details are what impress me so so much about Rocco and Fede’s acting. This is really really intense stuff to show, especially to do it well but they make it look absolutely real. I don’t question it for a second and I’m normally someone who is snapped out of scenes when acting is awry or something doesn’t sit right. Never with this season. Not once. 

Again with the smiling, the giddy blissed out smiles that are a Martino Rametta staple. His smile is so lovely and to see him happy is what we all want so all you want to do is keep that smile on his face! 

I ADORE the little moment when Marti is hovering over Nico and Nico’s finger drags along under his chin. It almost stopped my heart with how intimate a detail that was, how in love they seemed in that little moment alone. 

The last shot of this scene is so gorgeous that I KNEW, I knew watching it the first time that it was going to be the last time we saw them like that. I just had this awful sinking feeling seeing them slotted together to happy and lazy and cuddled together that it wasn’t going to last but what a truly gorgeous shot that was. Nico looked tranquil as hell and that’s why what happens afterwards is so painful for me and for us all because all of that intense comfort that Nico wanted and was seeking and that Marti loved... they didn’t get it. They didn’t get their time to sleep next to eachother. It was so SAD for me because that comfort is what I keep coming back to... life got in the way and stole that from them and I felt so unbeliavably sad. I KNOW they will get it. I am certain and I can’t wait to see that but, for now, my heart hurt so much. 

[douxreviews]

Star Trek: Discovery - ‘Brother’ Review

"Space: The Final Frontier. Above us, around us, within us. We have always looked to the stars to discover who we are."

By nature I love brevity: Star Trek: Discovery takes a long, clean breath of fresh air in this big, bold premiere that sheds the burdens of Season One and lets them roll down the hill behind.

Star Trek: Enterprise was canceled in 2005. And in the Fall of that year, as shows premiered, fans were faced with a sad reality: for the first time in 28 years, a new season of Star Trek was not among them. And for 12 years, this continued. And then we Discovered a new frontier. Breaking the silence of more than a decade, Star Trek: Discovery was a sign that Trek was not dead.

But of course, it was not without its flaws. Discovery Season One had issues with its tone and its dialogue. The crew, above and beyond their stilted, grandiose speech, rarely seemed like a family, or even a group of people who like each other. And the levels of anxiety and brooding were at dangerously high levels. We're talking Superman from Batman v. Superman levels of anxiety and brooding.

The fans pointed out these issues, though the good parts still remained (excepting the 'fans' who actively went out of their way to be openly hostile towards the series, its creators, and its viewers). And the team behind Discovery listened. 'Brother' benefits from a light and relaxed tone that feels like the lifting of a heavy curtain. The crew speaks in a generally human and natural manner, and they work together like a tight family. Brooding is nowhere to be seen, and the anxiety present is of a different sort than the cloud of deep worry that permeated Season One. Instead the viewer felt more of an empathetic concern about the characters and their lives.

The first and most immediate effect of 'Brother' is, in fact, to distance the show from its past mistakes. Associating these issues with the influence of Captain Lorca makes a lot of sense from a story perspective, even if the creators' insistence that all the darker elements were only a result of him doesn't quite sit right. From the outset, Captain Pike makes it clear that he is very different from Lorca. Everything about his manner and bearing suggests a completely different man from Jason Isaacs' power-hungry warmonger. But Pike is no Kirk, either, as one might anticipate. Anson Mount gives his Pike a humility and a grounded feel that Kirk never quite developed.

The other proverbial elephant on the starship is the presence of Spock. Though the adult version of our beloved half-Vulcan does not appear, his importance in the events of 'Brother' and the impact the mere allusion to the character has on the series is clear. We learn that he and Burnham's strained relationship is the result of her decisions, not his. It's clear she views him and his legacy as an oppressive force in her life, perhaps as a standard she could never live up to? There's a great shot that really sums this up, when young Spock makes his holo-dragon. The dragon moves toward Burnham, and roars at her, and Spock walks in through its mouth. I think that's how she sees Spock.

Sarek and Burnham's conversation about reverence also factors in. This show has decided to include a character that most fans undoubtedly have a lot of reverence for. But to make him a useful character, with an arc and a purpose, reverence is not enough. The massive weight of Spock's impact on Star Trek and the fans' adoration of him will be a problem that Discovery will have to deal with.

Moving to our regular cast, I loved how they were dealt with here. The other side of Lorca's effect on the Disco crew is that such a major and personal adversary has brought them together and made them rely on each other. All of the returning cast felt like a family around each other, and their interactions made the ship feel like a real workplace run by a real team. This is a major improvement from last season.

It looks like Burnham's journey this season will be thoroughly intertwined with Spock's. I look forward to seeing her relationship with him and how it develops, but I do hope they give her a role to play apart from and outside of the shadow of her foster brother. Likewise, Stamets seems overshadowed by the impact of someone else. Everything around him reminds him of his lost love Dr. Culber, and he's having a very hard time dealing with it. It seems like the end of this episode was enough to get him at least a little bit excited about science again, though it's unlikely that this is the end of his plotline about leaving the ship. With Wilson Cruz brought on as a full cast member for this season, it'll be interesting to see where this goes.

Tilly and Saru don't seem to have much in the way of an arc yet, but I'm sure this will change. I expect most of Tilly's story this season will have something to do with her enrollment in the Command Training Program. Saru mentioned his sister Siranna, from the Short Trek 'The Brightest Star,' and the showrunners have stated that we may see other Kelpians this season, so expect to see a visit to Saru's home planet of Kaminar sometime in the future. Maybe siblings will continue to be a theme this season.

Overall, 'Brother' was a pretty epic way to kick off the new season. It's fun and engaging, with a lot of potential. I can't wait to see where we go from here.

Strange New Worlds:

This section will record the planets the Disco visits and the places they go. Not a whole lot of that in this particular episode.

New Life and New Civilizations:

Here I'll keep track of all the new species, ideas, and cultures the crew encounters. Again, nothing in the way of that here.

Pensees (Thoughts):

-Mia Kirshner (Amanda) looks a lot like Amy Adams. She also really resembles Amanda from TOS, so that's nice.

-Stamets has a botanist friend aboard the Enterprise.

-In keeping with the Trek tradition of altering the intro, we have some brand new graphics added to the opening theme.

-Regulation 19, Section C allows a higher-ranking officer to take command of a starship in one of three contingencies: 1. An imminent threat; 2. The lives of Federation citizens are in danger; 3. There is no more qualified officer available to deal with the situation.

-I love Doug Jones' Saru walk. It's just so much fun to watch.

-That's the first shot we've gotten of a turbo lift running through a starship in all of Trek, if memory serves. Pretty cool, too.

-Another Alice in Wonderland nod. Also, holo-candles.

-Sarek mentioned that he's reached out to Klingon High Chancellor L'Rell (Mary Chieffo), and she had no explanation for the red bursts either.

-The Captain goes on the away mission, in true Trek tradition.

-There was a bit of Spock's Jellyfish ship from Star Trek (2009) in the design of the pods they flew.

-How cool was the pod sequence? Also, it was admittedly rather satisfying to see Olson Connelly get his comeuppance when he failed to pull his chute crashed and died because of the dumb risk he took.

-One of the ads loaded at the wrong time when I watched this the first time. The long ad break split a shot in half.

-I liked Reno (Tig Notaro). The idea of using an engineering approach to medicine is interesting, although I wouldn't want to be one of the first patients it was tried on.

-The Red Angel is still very much an unknown. I partially expect it will have something to do with the Klingons, if not only because they seem from the trailers to have a big role to play.

-The asteroid material wouldn't beam up. That's intriguing. It may be the key to fixing the spore drive, too, as it looks from the trailer that we'll be jumping again this season.

-'Not every cage is a prison, nor every loss eternal.' That's very interesting, and it has a lot of significance for Pike.

-It makes sense that the crew of the Enterprise would have issues with sitting out the war while on their five-year mission.

-The Disco's new Doctor is named Dr. Pollard.

-One of the names in the credits was 'Matt Decker.'

-A lot of references to faith/religion and related subjects in this episode. I don't think it's necessarily significant, but I thought it was worth noting.

-Alex Kurtzman directed this episode. I thought he did a great job; maybe he should stick to that instead of the whole coming up with ideas thing. I'm still baffled by the seriously weird and unsettling bits about Klingon anatomy from Season One.

Quotes:

Amanda: "I bless you, Michael... all my life."

Pike: "Do not covet thy neighbor's starship, Commander."

Pike: "Why didn't we think of that, Connelly? Think of all the syllables that gave their lives."

Pike: "Sometimes it's wise to keep your expectations low, Commander. That way we're never disappointed." Advice to the audience, perhaps?

Tilly: "I put her in a Utility closet, and I put you in there. I'm drunk on power."

Stamets: "Tilly, you are... incandescent. You're going to become a magnificent Captain because you do everything out of love. But I need you to repeat after me. I will say..." Tilly: "I will say..." Stamets: "Fewer things." Tilly: "Fewer thi- okay."

Sarek: "Spock has great reverence for his mother, but reverence tends to-" Burnham: "Fill up the room." It's the shot of Burnham's fairly empty quarters just as she interrupts that sells this one.

Pike: "Detmer - fly... good."

Pike: "I was expecting a red thing. Where's my damn red thing?"

Pike: "Spock asked the most amazing questions. It's completely logical, yet somehow able to make everyone see that logic was the beginning of the picture and not the end."

Burnham: "There are so many things I wish I'd said to you; so many things I want to say now. I'm too late, aren't I? I can only pray I don't lose you again... brother."

A strong, solid premiere. 5 out of 6 damn red things.

CoramDeo is interested in things.

[djinn-and-djuice]

lo for I have risen from the grave! life has been interesting and challenging as of late, but I’ll spare you the spiel. episode 26 broke my heart, and episode 27 made me cry, and I have little else to say aside from “beau is fun to write”. i am exhausted but i hope you like this fic.(also on ao3)

[contains spoilers for episodes 26 and 27 of campaign two, and alludes heavily to spoilers for the endgame of campaign 1]

vespers

~*~

It's a long walk back to The Landlocked Lady, but there are still things to be done in the wake of that thoroughly upsetting recon mission. Champ, that creep, is working the desk when they get back but thankfully keeps his comments to himself when they pay for two rooms but all file into one.

Keg is sketching out vague blueprints of the Sour Nest with Nila's help, Caleb is still recovering from talking for ten whole minutes back at the Estate Sybaritic, and Nott is naturally glued to his side while he flips vacantly through his spellbook. Aside from the occasional whispers, none of them speak. Beau, meanwhile, can barely focus on anything. The room, already cramped with the five of them packed into it, feels almost claustrophobically small. Every sound, from Keg’s whispering to the scratching of quill against paper, feels like it’s being carved into her eardrums with a chisel. So with as little movement as possible Beau stands, throws her cloak over one arm, and steps out of the room. A quick glance over her shoulder shows her that Nott is the only one to notice her departure. She watches Beau walk out, but doesn't acknowledge her with anything more than a barely-there nod of the head.

It's probably shitty of her, to be walking off alone after everything that's happened and while there’s still so much to do, but if she doesn’t get a breath of fresh air and thirty seconds of silence she is going to crawl out of her fucking skin. Hopefully the obvious presence of her pack left behind conveys that this is just a stroll; that she’ll be careful, that she fully intends to come back.

Like intent means anything these days.

She sniffs, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her cloak as she puts it on in the foyer. The cold weather has been vicious on her sinuses, used as she is to the southern climes of Kamordah and Zadash. Or at least, that's what she tells herself to keep her face stern as she walks through Shady Creek.

This place is an absolute disaster, and Beau has seen some terrible shithole towns and some seedy goddamn underbellies. There’s more than a few people passed out or straight-up dead in the gutter, garbage and food refuse is scattered everywhere, and the whole place smells vaguely of blood and dry rot. It does very little to alleviate her mood, and briefly she wonders if she’s going to feel like this - discontented, like she pulled a muscle in her soul - forever, if this is just her life now. No. That’s bullshit. She’s been through hell before and come out swinging; she can do it again this time. She doesn’t know when she’s gonna come out the other side, but she will. At least she’s not alone this go-round.

She walks a few blocks, but the sights don’t get any less depressing or disheartening. She doesn’t feel quite as penned-in as before, but now that her head is clearer the jagged, rusty edges of the town loom even sharper. With every step she’s further and further convinced that this little walk was a mistake, but something keeps her putting one foot in front of the other. It feels less like she’s running away and more like she’s walking towards something, which makes no fucking sense but feeling like she has some sort of goal is leagues better and she’ll chase that feeling anywhere.

Eventually her feet lead her to a small stone building, set apart from the others. It’s somewhere between a shed and hut in size, made of brick in places and large unworked stones in others, painted a uniform grey. Despite how ramshackle it is, it doesn’t carry the same air that the rest of the buildings in town do. There’s something about it that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

One step closer becomes two, becomes five, and she sees the metal raven skull set into the door, the bundles of dried flowers set at the doorstep and that feeling suddenly makes sense. This is a temple. The Matron of Ravens is an interesting choice to have in the middle of town, but not necessarily odd.

It takes her a second, however, to realize it's not a temple to the Matron of Ravens. Painted copper coins have been nailed around the doorframe, which Beau only notices when she gets closer, showing that this small building is dedicated to her Champion instead. The coins are precisely spaced, and not a single one is missing, surprisingly. Huh. Apparently there are some things in Shady Creek that are sacred. Or maybe it’s fear of divine reprisal, but either works. Still, that’s a motif that people only use when praying to him, rather than his queen.

Beau knows the folktales, and her connections with the Cobalt Soul means she knows which ones are true. She's heard all about the Champion of the Lost, the guardian of souls, the knight who sits at the Matron’s right hand. While she holds total dominion over death, it is his charge to see the souls of the deceased safely to her embrace. He comforts the recently dead, and prevents them from becoming restless, haunted spirits. Beyond that the information is fuzzy, protected by the higher echelons of the order. She knows how he used to be a mortal servant of the Lady of Fates a couple decades ago, but that’s about it. She doesn’t know when people started worshipping him or why, but there seems to be some substance to it, at least. If nothing answered the prayers, people probably wouldn’t pray anymore. Given who he serves, worship of him isn’t prohibited in the Empire, per se, but it’s not exactly the safest of propositions to have a temple exclusively dedicated to him like this one.

It makes sense, in a weird sort of way. Town like this, there’s probably a lot of people who want to make sure their souls aren’t left to wander.

Pushing the door open to the tinkling of chimes, Beau pokes her head in. There’s no one else in the space, so she steps in and shuts the door behind her. The temple is clean, with a couple of low benches and a small, if well appointed, altar. While there isn’t a whole lot of ambient light to come in through the windows in the first place, what does come through is filtered by gauzy curtains, creating a sense of dusk.

The temple smells of dry stone, smoke, and lavender. Off against the wall she can see a black iron censer and the low glow of the coals inside it. It’s such a small thing, but that gentle herbal scent reminds her so profoundly of Molly that she cracks for the second time in three days, stumbling before the small altar and falling to her knees to cry. The slender statue of a half-elven man with great black wings looks quietly down as the pain bleeds out of her.

Was he there, when Molly passed? The stories said he could fly faster than thought, was he quick enough that Molly didn’t wake up somewhere alone again?

She’s not exactly sure how much time passes, but it’s not too long before her tears have run their course and she pulls herself up to sit heavily on the bench nearest the altar.

“Listen up, you asshole,” she says, pointing an indignant finger at the statue. The figure of the Champion is carved from stone and painted with an almost loving amount of detail. “You look after him, alright? We’re gonna do our damndest to get him back, but you make sure to keep him company for now. He’s obnoxious, but he’s one of the good ones. One of the few really good ones.”

Praying has never been one of her strong suits-she’d never really needed it before the monastery, and the Cobalt Soul was more interested in serving Ioun in deeds than venerating her at all hours.  Maybe calling him an asshole wasn’t the greatest idea, but it’s all she has. The statue is smiling-smirking, more like-so he’s probably the sort of entity to take that kind of talk in stride.

She sets her face in her hands, sighing. “Tell him we miss him,” she says, voice muffled.

There’s no one else in the temple-she checked when she walked in, and the chimes hung from the door have stayed silent, but she feels someone sit down beside her and put an arm over her shoulders. She catches a waft of that rich incense Molly was so fond of, and hears, behind her, the faint sound of creaking leather armor.

The feeling is gone as quickly as it comes, and Beau lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Suddenly the small temple feels barren and unwelcoming. She’s had her moment of quiet, and now the thought of that cramped room is an appealing one. She doesn’t want to be alone now.

She takes some of her last pocket bacon and sets them in the offering dish at the foot of the statue for the Champion. The dead don’t need food, and the gods need it even less, but it feels right.

“Thanks,” she says, and stalls at the door for a moment or so, unsure if there’s anything she’s supposed to be doing, before simply walking away.

She makes her way back through the streets of Shady Creek Run with a keen eye on her surroundings. The only thing she misses is the large black bird that flies behind her, keeping watch the whole way.