#I LOVE IT (also I took a ‘film as art’ class and in that there’s a term called ‘willfullness of disbelief’ where you as the viewer know

[mouse-fantoms]

On top of being robbed of so much Juke content we’ll never get, what I think about alot is how Juke would have been approached more if it went further.

One of the (many) reasons I love jatp so much is it makes me believe their characters are real, that they have background, they have their own goals and ambitions to them, they’re fleshed out.

That moment of Flynn going “my girls got a crush and his name is Luke” and Julie going “what no?! Luke’s a ghost😳.” And Flynn saying “a cute ghost” and Julie giving in and saying “…with a perfect smile☺️” and adding that Luke is “cute air” which implies she has indeed given this Luke crush idea some thought.

That moment of just two best friends talking about the others potential crush like that’s such a good moment bc I genuinely believe that I am watching these two genuine besties just have that kind of talk with one another bc that happens!

Like that moment we have with our friends when they’re like “hey I got something to tell you 👀” or they approach you like “so… umm… I’ve been kind of noticing your behavior lately around this person.” It’s the realistic little things like that which is why I appreciate this show so much.

Julie having the line of “what no! Luke’s a ghost!” Means so much that, on top of acknowledging “hey he’s got a cute smile, and he himself is cute” she also acknowledged “…he is a ghost though…” but then our Julie being who she is (we love her for it) went “but he still do be cute though 🥰” like this is a genuine teen girl in high school having a crush

And then later on when Reggie and Alex bring up how Luke and Julie ooze chemistry (and the way that throughout the show when Julie and Luke are being cute and them, the looks that we see Reggie and Alex give like Juke and then each other is so good bc I genuinely believe like “yeah these boys are all friends with one another so of course they’d react that way to their other friend showing an interest in their fellow friend”) Luke’s like “no come on I have chemistry with everyone I sing with” HE DOES THE SAME THING JULIE DID WHEN THE EXACT SAME TOPIC EAS BROUGHT UP TO HER! (Soulmates your honor!)

Him denying it, like Julie did, implies too that he also had the thinking of “…she is alive though and I’m not” (I mean me personally I feel like Luke didn’t truly realize he liked her until later on even if there were signs earlier, just bc he seems like the kind of person where like music was his absolute everything like even if the Sunset Curve fangirls were always like ‘omg Luke is amazing 😍’, I just get the vibe that he would never really notice the advances towards him bc he is just so consumed in music and that is his whole existence, so when Reggie and Alex see that Luke appears to be falling for Julie it’s a big deal bc they’re probably like “Luke has NEVER shown any interest ever so the fact that a girl has replaced music in his life THIS IS A MASSIVE DEAL”)

And then the moment when they’re on Julie’s porch and she tries to hold his hand but ya know CANT (huge what a gut punched) and then she awkwardly looks away and he’s like “…this is an interesting little relationship you and I have” and they’re just there for a moment just looking and smiling at each other (THEY’RE FLIRTING SO MUCH WITHOUT SAYING ANY WORDS UGH TAKE ME 😩)

I am sat there genuinely believing that these are two teenagers who even though they know they’re not *supposed* to feel a way about each other, they still do. Like that scene is their confession to one another and it’s so sweet and genuine bc in that moment where Julie tries to hold his hand, they’re brought back to reality as to what they are and yet, they can’t help but still like one another and appreciate each other bc of what the other person has changed so much in their life.

AND THEN, that scene in the beginning of the last episode how Julie asks to talk to Luke (and Reggie and Alex immediately are like “oop leave them be 👀 they’re having a moment” being the greatest friends that they are) and they’re both standing there, in each others presence, it takes a moment for Julie to say what she wants to but they’re just two kids who ended up in each others lives and they know they like each other but they know they can’t act on those feelings yet they still just have this love for each other is so enduring and charming. The way Luke tells her “anything Julie you know that” MAKES ME MELT like ugh 😩 their dynamic and friendship has grown so much with each other from episode 1 to like now and it’s so just ugh it gets me

When I think how Juke could have been approached if we had gotten a chance, I would have loved to see the new like “glowing touch” development and how that would impact their dynamic. (I just imagine Reggie just hugs Julie all the time bc he can (he just seems like such a hugger and I feel like he’d give good ones🥺) and Alex also will gives her side hugs (they just take advantage of being able to physically touch her bc they don’t know how long they’re able to do it for with their new ghost development)) I feel like Luke and Julie would just be a bit apprehensive since the hand holding thing on the porch, and maybe their hug was just a one time thing.

Would have loved to see Carlos referring to Luke as “Julie’s boyfriend” (he was there for edge of great and stand tall THERES NO WAY he’s thinking anything of than “the sleeveless one is indeed my sisters boyfriend”) would be extra great too with like Luke being in the room and Carlos just says that and Julie quickly trying to make him not talk about it bc it’s embarrassing 💀 her just being like “Carlos, he’s a ghost” and him being like “…hey with you having a boyfriend are you going to have less time with Dad and I bc you’ll be busy kissing him?” And Julie’s face just goes pale as Luke takes the time to take himself out of room meanwhile his face his like bright red

Would have loved to see when Carrie’s redemption is happening and it’s Julie and Carrie and Carrie’s like “sooooo 👀 I’ve seen how you look at your guitarist” and she immediately tries to shut it down but Carrie is like “Jules, we may not have been that close in the past year and some but we’ve known each other for how long? I can see your tells!”

I just think a lot about how this ship, even though they’re not meant to like each other yet they do and still care about each other, would have been approached more if we got the chance

[ghostgirl-22]

I know a little bit ago u said you'd be open to trying x reader so here's a prompt i randomly thought of! But ignore it if it's not ur vibe

Patrick sets art up w a girl (reader) who's like quiet and pretty normal, someone who wouldn't be too much for little artie to get out of his shell... and then when they start dating Patrick is in arts dorm snoopinh and finds a punch pf freaky polaroids of art being put in like full nelson or something LOL

Idk i need Patrick to make fun of him but be lowkey turned on and asking if his gf is up for a threesum n art gets all defensive but also very turned on

Thanks for the prompt, lovely!! I took a few liberties and changed it from Polaroids to video lol. Hope that’s okay <3

CW: 18+ !NSFW! Explicit

—-

Patrick doesn’t think anything of it. You’re pretty and shy and you seem like a good girl. Probably exactly what Art needs. Someone sweet to break him in. The last thing he wants is Art to leave high school without ever having had a girlfriend. Patrick’s proud of himself for the way that he gets you two together . It’s easy enough. At homecoming he pulls you away from the wall for a dance and when the song is over he leaves you with Art, convincing him to dance with you as he disappears to go flirt with one of the more popular girls.

You are a little shy. Most guys tend to overlook you because of your shyness, they think you’re a saint. But honestly you had been crushing on Art Donaldson since puberty and even though you were too nervous to approach him you’re not too nervous to take advantage of the opportunity.

Art is as sweet and adorable as everyone says and by the end of the night you lead him to an empty classroom… kiss him slowly and somehow convince him that it’s okay if he just slips one or two fingers inside you.

”Are you sure?” He whispers anxiously.

You giggle and kiss him. “Yes, please.”

Patrick doesn’t know any of that. He thinks the two of you are just so cute. “Two pretty little virgins,” He teases Art, when you guys start dating. He imagines you two going on walks, holding hands, cuddling, sitting quietly in the park or something like that. Sometimes he wonders if Art will be brave enough to take your virginity or if he’ll have to coax Art into doing that too.

Patrick is borrowing Art’s laptop late one night in a hectic attempt to review the slides for the history exam tomorrow because his computer is acting up. He clicks on a window accidentally and a video pops up. From the still he can see your face. He glances over at Art, snoring lightly in his bed while the tv plays quietly in the background.

He can’t help his curiosity so he presses play. “Please, lemme film it baby,” your voice sounds from the video.

Art appears then, half naked, only his boxers on. They’re in this bedroom. Patrick must’ve been in class or out at practice or something. “Okay, but just for me and you right?” He says, he’s grabbing at your waist.

“Yeah I want to watch it later,” you say grinning. Patrick swallows as he watches you preening for the camera in your panties, your bra is white lace and see through, your dark curls are falling messy into your eyes, it’s clear you and Art have been messing around before you started the video. Patrick can’t believe he didn’t realize how fucking hot you were.

Art pulls you closer. “Mm you’re so beautiful.”

“I am?” you wrap your arms around him and he lifts you up and gently tosses you on the bed. Patricks bed.

”Yeah,” Art smirks, “mm getting hard.” Patrick watches as Art tugs your bra straps down and starts licking at your tits. Pretty pink, lips and tongue sucking at them like he’s never been more hungry. It’s doing something to Patrick to watch Art and you like this. He’s so hard he feels dizzy.

“All yours baby, you’re such a good boy,” You moan, teasing your fingers through his golden hair.

Patrick’s forgotten completely about his history exam. He glances up from the computer again. Art is still fast asleep so Patrick eases his hand down his pajama pants, touching his aching cock while he watches the video of Art bending you in half, gripping your thighs and pumping his swollen dick inside you. Watching you squirm and moan as your pussy opens up for him again and again. The sound of your desperate moans mixed with his, the way you start squirting all over the sheets, giggling, as Art gasps out, “oh fuck baby oh fuck it’s so messy, gonna come inside baby, need to come inside you. I’m so sorry baby, oh fuck—” And then he’s spilling.

Sliding his dick out when he’s done and watching as the cum leaks slowly from your twitching cunt. “Sorry baby,” he whispers, flushed all over, hypnotized by your cunt as more semen spills out.

“Mm it’s okay, Artie. I know you couldn’t help it.” Your voice is pitched all high and soft.

”Yeah,” Art agrees, licking his lips. “You’re just so pretty. You drive me crazy.” Then he starts using his spend to finger your pussy till you come, squirting wet again all over Patricks sheets. Watching you shiver and moan, sucking on his fingers when he’s done.

Fuck.

Patrick’s coming hard in his hand. He didn’t know Art had that in him, had no idea that you were such a freaky little girl. He wants to get his own dick inside of you. Let you squirt all over it. Maybe get it inside of Art too while he’s at it.

The next day Patrick’s looking at his sheets and realizes Art must’ve changed them but the mattress is definitely stained with you. He can’t get it out of his head. Suddenly he’s asking Art about you everyday and Art realizes when he’s messing with his laptop, that Patrick’s seen the video.

“I didn’t mean to watch it. But holy shit, Art. You guys act so fucking innocent and the whole time you’re doing that… on my bed.”

“I’m sorry I used your bed but mine was already a—a mess and—and we cleaned up after… besides you're the one who acts like we’re so innocent,” Art says and that’s fair.

“Your bed was a mess? So she’s just….” Patrick takes a breath. “You can have her over when I’m here if you want.”

“Shut up man.”

“No seriously, I mean you think she’d be into a threesome?”

“Come on, Patrick,” Art says irritated.

“Im serious… I mean, imagine if we… you know… took turns or whatever. Imagine if me and you… kinda…if me and you fucked… or whatever.”

“God, you’re fucking crazy,” Art says, but he’s flushing even more than when he first confronted Patrick, fidgeting with his hands in his lap.

And when Art tells you about it a few days later you’re both giggling about how crazy it sounds. But then he accidentally says Patrick’s name while you’re fucking and you both come almost immediately after that…both lost in individual fantasies about his best friend. And two weeks later Art invites you over with your camera and when both him and Patrick greet you. You can’t help but to smile.

[m1guelsgf]

Hi I have request for axel. I was wondering what if axel and reader already has a pre-established relationship. The reader is sam sister which she was bitter that she took the spot for female captain for miyagi-do but leading up to the sekai Taikai it revealed that she was the new captain for the iron Dragons also can you make her and axel an unbeatable team. Thank you so so much i appreciate you

jealousy, jealousy

axel kovacevic x larusso!reader

this is such a fun concept, i hope u like it!! kind of rushed it bc i took too long on it and i wanted it finished but if this does well, i'll write a pt.2!

send more reqs! i love working on the ideas you guys have. my other axel req will be out probably after christmas (also working on my short film so i'm very busy lately) but i have an idea for a miguel fic and a kwon fic so lmk what u wanna see!! enjoy the fic!! also no sam hate pls thats my bbg.

being the eldest larusso daughter came with a lot of privilege and a lot of expectations. you and your father were close because you took after his love for martial arts. you had your mothers beauty and sense of humor. you were the envy of encino, riding around in a nice car while spending your daddy's money. you were spoiled, of course, but that didn't mean you hadn't earned everything that came your way. you lived up to the expectations your parents set for you, which is probably why your siblings so often threw your name around in vain. you were at the top of your class. you were a 2 time all valley champ just like your dad, until miguel and cobra kai came back to town. you had even competed internationally, winning silver and gold in different tournaments, which is where you met your boyfriend.

axel kovacevic.

the two of you met in italy, where you competed in the same tournament. your dad was oblivious to the relationship because your mom, amanda, was on the trip as well and the two of them can get distracted with each other. especially in a foreign country.

ever since then, you had a long distance relationship with axel. you spent hours on the phone, running up the bill with international calls until one day your mom asked you about it and you confessed. you were dating the croatian gold medal martial artist, and you maybe even loved him.

your dad freaked out, obviously, taking away your phone for days until finally giving in and letting you be with him (not that it would have stopped you anyways). you two were long distance for a year before both being informed of the opportunity to compete in the sekai tekai. it never bothered you that you were in different dojos, and axel never seemed to mind either. your relationship worked well but you often wished to be closer to him. which is why when the sekai tekai came around, you were giving it your all.

you dominated all the challenges and lessons you were put through and it all came down to the match against either your sister or tory for the captain spot. you were anxious to get it over with. they were skilled, but you knew you were better. you had been at it for longer, you had competed and won against tougher opponents. they didn't want this as bad as you. there was only one thing you really wanted at the end of the day and that was to be able to call axel and tell him you were going to be the captain of your team too.

after robby had won his match against miguel and secured his spot as captain, it was time for tory and sam to fight. the winner would fight you for the captain spot. sam had been on her game recently. she had been training hard and getting prepared for the match. tory, on the other hand, was nearly jumping out of her skin. her eyes were swollen and puffy like she had been crying and she was bouncing on her toes. electric energy sparked when they both got on the sparring deck.

it was intense. tory was fighting ferociously, in a way you hadn't seen since she switched sides. it was almost no surprise to you when your dad stopped the match. the surprise came in it being revealed that tory's mother had just died. both you and johnny rushed to tory's defense.

"well if sam doesn't want to fight her, i will." you weren't afraid of the challenge and you knew what it would mean to tory to be able to finish the fight. you didn't know the type of grief she was going through but you could tell that it wasn't going to be worked through by doing nothing.

"y/n, listen to dad." sam, ever the teacher's pet, shook her head. "it's not right."

"what's not right is us not listening to what she needs." you shot back. "we can hug and kiss later, right now she needs to let it all out."

"i understand sweetheart, but this isn't the right way." your dad shook his head at you.

"you don't understand! none of you understand! you just don't want me to beat your daughters." tory shouted at your dad and sam. "she would have wanted me to fight, i have to do this for her. just let us fight."

"tory..." robby approached her and she immediately softened.

"robby, no..." she tried to pull her hands away from his but he held onto her.

"we'll decide who's captain another way. i can't let this fight continue."

"you want this fight to be over. fine. it's over." tory stormed off.

"where are you going?" robby called out after her.

"i'm done!" she shouted before leaving.

"what was that?" your dad looked at you, disappointment all over his face. "we don't teach violence as a solution. that's not the miyagi do way."

you sighed, still angry that they wouldn't let tory finish the fight. "how are you going to decide on a captain, dad? if you're not gonna let us fight? are you just going to choose your favorite, because we all know it's going to be sam."

"y/n, that's not fair." daniel shook his head.

"what's not fair is you and sam not letting tory fight." you shook your head and walked off.

"where are you going?" sam called out after you.

"i'm done too. congratulations sam." you got in your car and drove home, sending tory a text that never got a response.

by the time your parents got home, you had finished showering off the day. you were sitting in your room, drying your hair when your dad knocked.

"hey, sweetie." he started.

"is this about the tournament?"

"yes." he was honest. "i think you're making a mistake by dropping out just because you're mad at me. i know tory is your friend and she's grieving right now but you have worked your whole life this. don't throw away your opportunity."

"are you going to give me a fair shot at captain?" you asked.

"it's not that simple. you're one of the best in the class. you're the only one who has fought on the level we are going to. this may be their only and last opportunity to go this far. we need to give them a chance to win."

you laughed bitterly. "so because i'm the best, you're keeping me on the sidelines for the biggest opportunity of my life. how does that make sense?"

"i'm not keeping you on the sidelines, i'm just giving the others a chance to prove themselves."

"well, now theres a spot open so someone else can prove themselves." you and your dad stared at each other for a moment before he left your room. he knew you shared his temper so he understood it would be a while before you forgave him.

"hey- are you crying?" axel's expression quickly changed. he had answered your facetime while on a break from practice.

"no... yeah..." you sighed. "i'm not competing in the sekai tekai."

"what happened?"

"my dad. he said i've already won tournaments, so i need to give others the chance to win." you rolled your eyes, still upset at your dad for not giving you and tory a fair shot at competition.

"that's stupid." he furrowed his brows. "they're going to lose without you."

"i know." you frowned. "and i told him that but he doesn't want to listen and i don't want to compete if i'm not captain."

it was silent for a moment before axel had a realization. "you should be our captain."

you laughed a little, not thinking he was serious until you looked at his face on the screen of your phone. "you don't mean it."

"i do. zara is training with a master in japan so we have the open spot. sensei wolf was just going to borrow from another dojo but i'll tell him about you."

your heart skipped a beat. were you really willing to switch teams and turn your back on not only your friends but your family as well? "i'm in. i can talk to him too if that will help."

"let me talk to him first."

"thank you axel." you smiled at him. "how's training?"

"intense."

"is your sensei being the worst again?" you asked, knowing what sensei wolf could be like based on what axel told you.

"yeah. our team has a new sponsor so we've been learning new techniques. sensei wolf doesn't want us to lose a single point." axel sighed out.

"well if anyone can handle it, it's you." you responded. "plus, i can't wait to say that my boyfriend won the sekai tekai."

"i can't wait to say that my girlfriend won the sekai tekai." axel flashed his million dollar smile at you. "i have to go but i'll call you tomorrow okay?"

"okay. bye axel."

"bye."

you set your phone down and looked in the mirror. you couldn't believe you were ready to betray your friends and family to compete in the world championship of karate. you could feel the guilt creeping up but you pushed it down with your anger, remembering that your dad and sister took away the one thing you cared about. they knew this was your life. they didn't care about trophies or medals but you did.

three days before the competition, your dad was still trying to talk to you. "i understand if you're still mad at me but don't be mad at sam. she needs your support. we all do." daniel spoke from across the kitchen table.

you bit your tongue, still bitter and upset at the both of them for the way things turned out. you needed them to think you weren't still upset. "i'm not mad. anymore, at least."

"so you'll coach us?" sam asked from her spot at the table.

"on one condition." you looked at your dad. "i want to go to barcelona a day early."

"what? why?"

"to see axel. he's competing. this is the first time i get to see him in months." you explained, hoping they would leave it at that.

the second you mentioned your boyfriends name, daniel stiffened up. "i don't know..."

"come on, dad. its not like anything can happen. we're just gonna get dinner together. he has to train all day anyways, i just want a normal date with my boyfriend before all the karate drama." you pleaded and daniel was never able to say no to you, especially when you gave him the puppy dog eyes that he used to use on his mom.

daniel looked between you and sam. you were looking at him expectantly and sam was nodding, encouraging him to give you what you wanted so they could have your support.

"i want you back in your hotel room no later than 11. you stay safe, keep your location on, text me every couple of hours." daniel spoke his list of conditions. "okay?"

"okay." you nodded.

"okay." sam repeated, smile on her face.

"i love you, honey." your dad kissed the side of your head. "the both of you. i'm gonna go make all the arrangements for you to leave tomorrow."

"thanks dad." you smiled at him and you were starting to feel bad for lying to them but you had committed to your decision already and that was final.

"do you... want to spar with me?" sam asked. "so we can work some of this stuff between us out. you're my sister and i hate us being mad at each other."

you took a deep breath. "i'm not mad at you. i have to start packing anyways. maybe later." you said, knowing later would never come.

when you got off the plane, your heart started racing when it finally hit you that you were seeing axel. you were getting to see your boyfriend after months of long distance. you were also joining his dojo. you had always envied sam a little bit for how perfect her social life was. all her friends trained at her dojo and her boyfriend was arguably the top fighter of the dojo. sam's friends automatically became your friends and you didn't mind because of how great they were, but you also felt like you weren't an individual. you were sam's sister and daniel's daughter and all you wanted to be was yourself. the female champion whose boyfriend is the male champion.

catching a glimpse of axel, your mind immediately went blank. you hadn't seen him in person since the tournament last year in new york where the both of you took gold, and now he was right in front of you. you both started walking to close the distance and once he was within arms length of you, he pulled you into a deep kiss.

axel had been waiting for this, just like you. it killed him that he didn't have you within close reach at all times and now he never wanted to let you go. he kissed you like it was his air. his frame completely shadowed yours as he pulled you closer to him.

"axel!"

the both of you turned in the direction of the voice, axel still holding you close to himself protectively. it was sensei wolf, standing a few feet away with his arms crossed and an amused smirk on his face.

"you'll have time for that later." he spoke and waved you two to follow him through the crowd of people in the airport. axel snaked his arm around your waist and led the way as he followed his sensei.

the car ride was silent. you didn't know what to say or if saying nothing would be better so you stayed silent and held onto axel's hand.

"you're not going to be a distraction for my champion, are you?" sensei wolf asked once you were in one of the gym spaces of the hotel.

you shook your head no. "i came to win."

"and what makes you think that you can?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at you. "you may be a champion, but what makes you good enough to be my champion?" you didn't know what to say. of course you had dealt with sensei lawrence's constant questioning and pushing. he always refused to treat you any differently than your teammates just because you're a world champion and a larusso. this was different. it felt like sensei wolf was trying to humble you- no, humiliate you. "i'll tell you what, if you can land a point on me then i won't get in between you and axel. how 'bout that?" he offered, outstretching his hands like he was offering himself up.

you shook your head and turned around like you were about to walk away before doubling back with a hook kick that he narrowly dodged.

"there it is." sensei wolf laughed and took a fighting position. "come on." he beckoned you closer before performing a complex kick that you blocked and countered with your own. he grabbed onto your leg mid air and pushed it away, effectively dropping you to the mat. you grunted, feeling your anger start to rise. he was playing with you.

you stood back up and took your stance again. "hai!" you shouted and began attacking, using a combination of everything you learned from chozen and johnny to attack him tactically but aggressively. you threw multiple combinations of strikes, making wolf keep up his defense. his defense was as good as chozen's and you were struggling to break it.

"enough!" he was starting to get annoyed with how long the fight was going on for. before you could throw another punch, he kicked you. you blocked it with your forearms but he then dropped you to the floor with another kick to the face. "okay, i can admit that you're good."

"i'm not done." you blinked away the tears in your eyes from the forceful kick and quickly hopped back to your feet. you held your hands out in front of you and began performing a kata. it caught him off guard but he laughed you off.

"fine. have it your way." he threw a punch which you blocked with the drum technique. he threw another and another and another and then shouted in frustration when none of them landed. you noticed how you were managing to get him off his balance as his breathing was starting to become more erratic and rushed as he tried to break your defense. in a quick movement, you snaked your way around his body, arm wrapped around his torso, and took him to the floor with you. it was a struggle, as he had a tight grip on one of your arms but you managed to roll over him and strike him in the face.

"point." you panted, standing up and walking away as fast as you could. your heart was racing. you were actually doing this. it wasn't anything like you thought it'd be. you were honestly a little scared. "axel and i are going out tonight." you said when you reached the door, turning around to see sensei wolf staring at you with a curious gaze.

"i can't believe you actually got a point on sensei wolf." you and axel were sitting at a bar near the beach. it was a perfect night. you were under axel's arm, head resting on his shoulder.

"yeah, after he got like 3 on me." you muttered, swirling the mai tai around in its glass. you both had already had a pleasant dinner and now were sharing drinks.

"still. i'm sure he's impressed. i'm impressed." he kissed the side of your head. you only smiled and leaned closer into his side. you definitely were enjoying the normal evening you got to spend with your boyfriend. your love life had been intertwined with karate and while it still was, it was like you could forget all of that and you and axel could just be a couple with no other worries. "are you ready for tomorrow?"

"yes." you answered quickly. he looked down at you with a questioning look, already knowing your tendency to talk fast when you're nervous. "i mean, yeah. i'm ready to fight and i'm ready for the challenges that are coming..."

"but...?" axel asked, knowing you were holding something back.

"but i'm nervous to face everyone. you know, my family. i lied to them." you were feeling guilty, which was a big part of why you couldn't completely enjoy yourself with axel. you felt evil, letting them believe that you came to help them.

"they'll understand. eventually." axel took a sip of your shared drink.

"i hope so." you were already imagining the betrayal on everyone's faces when they finally saw you in the iron dragons gi. "i know sam is gonna be pissed. and my dad is gonna have that disappointed look on his face. and sensei lawrence is gonna-"

"hey. i know it's hard, but don't worry about them. it's you and me now." axel had a soft look in his eyes. "just us."

you nodded. "just us." a soft song started playing ans you immediately stood up and held your hand out. "wanna dance?"

"of course." he took it and the two of you walked onto the dance floor. in the middle of all the people, you still only had your focus on axel. it was just the two of you as you swayed to the music.

axels hands were resting on your hips and yours were on his arms. he twirled you around and pulled you close, to where your back was pressed against his chest. "i missed you." he whispered in your ear, pressing an open mouthed kiss against your cheek. your face turned red and you tilted your head to the side to allow him more access.

"i missed you too." you looked at him over your shoulder and he captured your lips in a kiss. it was full of want- the both of you wanting each other so bad for so long and finally being able to have each other. it felt like a dream. the warm, dim bar lights were making everything fuzzy around you and you could only feel the heat of axels palms through your clothes as he all but pried your mouth open with the kiss.

when he pulled away, the both of you had matching glossy lips and dazed expressions. you were both buzzed from the drinks you had and it was making you two all smiley and giggly as you fell into movement with the crowd.

the night ended in a long detour on the way back to the hotel as the both of you wanted to walk on the beach. you both made it back to your rooms with swollen lips, little love bites on your skin, and sand in your shoes.

morning training was no joke. axel had told you about sensei wolfs intense regimen but you didn't expect to have to participate. "if you wanna be an iron dragon, you have to train like an iron dragon." he had told you before the 3 mile run in the morning. you held your tounge when you really wanted to tell him that you didn't want to be an iron dragon at all. you had also heard from axel that his temper was quick and you didn't want to be on the receiving end of that.

'hey sweetheart, we just landed. be at the hotel soon.'

your dad texted you and you typed out a white lie.

'okay, me and axel are getting lunch. will see you in the arena tonight.'

'be safe. tell axel i said hi. love you."

'okay dad, love u 2'

you turned to axel. you were at the end of your training session and it was almost time to head into the arena. "my dad said hi." axel smiled and nodded in acknowledgment. he had only ever met your dad in passing. your dad found out you were dating axel after the last time you had seen him in person. you didn't mind it, considering your dad always got involved in all your relationships. it was nice to know axel recognized you as an individual and not the daughter of daniel larusso. it dawned on you that sensei wolf probably had no idea who you were or anything about miyagi do karate and that made it a little sweeter.

"are you ready?" he stood up and held his hand out to you. you took it and let him pull you up.

"yes." you nodded after taking a deep breath. "are you ready?"

"i can do anything with you by my side." he leaned down and kissed you softly. "let's go."

inside the arena, you felt a strange mix of confidence and anxiety. you were prepared for this tournament. you had earned your right to be there and you were ready to fight until you were the last one standing. you couldn't help feeling anxious over having to see the miyagi do's. it was sinking in that you weren't wearing a bonsai on your back and fighting on the same team as your sister.

then you saw them. they were taking their place at the edge of the mat. miguel was the first to notice you. he didn't look away from your eyes as he tugged on the sleeve of sam's gi to get her attention. he nodded in your direction and it was almost like she was looking through you, the way she didn't immediately spot you. eventually she did though, and her face fell.

it was a chain reaction, miguel told sam, sam told robby, robby told his dad, his dad told your dad, and then your dad was finally looking at you with betrayal and disappointment all over his face.

you could only stand there, one piece of your heart on the other side of the mat. at least you knew axel was on your side, with the other half of your heart.

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Lens Flare

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: Over the past three months, your career has grown by leaps and bounds. Yet at the same time, you can't help feeling dissatisfied. A lot of your feelings stem from what you did the last time you saw him. Jake Seresin. Lieutenant Jake Seresin. It had been fun, in the hangar, under the dead of night - passionate and hot. So too had been the video you filmed and the pictures you'd snapped. But hindsight, well, maybe there is a reason why they say "Hindsight is Twenty-Twenty". Because Jake hasn't called, despite how badly you want him to. A new assignment in North Island might have the potential to change everything for Jake and our Shutterbug, including how they approach everything they hold dear.

Warnings: Once again, this is just some porn with plot. The feral plot bunnies ran away with me, I fear.

Word Count: 8502

A/N: Hiya everyone! I'm baaack! Enjoy this sequel to my fic Photo Finish. It's just as smutty and gorgeous as the last one!

This fic is brought to you all by the constant support of @horseshoegirl, @sarahsmi13s and @desert-fern. You're all my heroes and I love you to bits for keeping me from ditching this story before it even started! I couldn't have written it without you!

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

An old photography teacher of yours once told you never to submit photos with lens flares to any publication, magazine or contest. He considered lens flares the biggest mistake for a rookie photographer. He’d declared, quite adamantly in front of your entire class, using your pictures as examples, how lens flares made photos look cheap and low quality. Given his dislike of the trick of light, he’s also taught you a plethora of tricks to prevent them. Over the many, many years since you left his class, you’ve started to relax and deviate from the rigid rules of photography he once taught you. For a large portion of your career, you've been photographing subjects which cannot be posed in a studio, which helps. Every snick and whir of your camera feels like you are letting go of rules and embracing your art.

You’ve always heard wildlife photography has a tendency to relax photographers' attitudes. It’s a truth you’re very thankful you had the chance to experience. After all, there are no rules when it’s just you, your camera and what feels like the entire world a hair's-breadth away from your camera lens. It’s hard to be frustrated with the sun glancing across your camera lens when it highlights fox kits gamboling in dewy spring grass. Or elk on a frost-bitten winter morning with clouds of their breath dissipating into the clear air. Those pictures were once-in-a-lifetime shots, perfect in their imperfection and richer with the sparkling halos of light.

Being back in New York after years of traveling has made you appreciate the photographs you took even more. Now you feel like you can fully appreciate the wilderness in them. New York is wild in an entirely different way. It’s louder, greyer, more populous, yet just as vibrant. In New York, you’ve been able to capture human nature, snapping minuscule interactions between people who are always in a hurry and always moving. But you also have to work to make enough money to fund your passions. Not having to travel helped bring some stability to your passions. But of all of the things you thought you'd be photographing, fashion models and clothes were never an option. In a way, photographing fashion and fashion models is capturing another kind of wild animal in your lens sights. Models and designers are wholly proprietary and protective over what they consider theirs, whether their clothing or their aesthetic appearance. You’ve had to shoot and reshoot, as well as touch up your photos more than you've ever had to before. Of course, in this case, your primary objective is to make the models and the clothes they are wearing look otherworldly and incredible. 

At first, the thrill of doing something new was alluring and exciting. But after a year, trapped in New York City, doing the same thing and working with the same people day in and day out, you can’t help but miss wildlife photography. It's like a persistent ache below your breast bone, something calling you back to the life you lived before. You're missing traveling in arid deserts and verdant forests even more now. And then the US Navy came calling. Now, while you miss the wilderness, you think you might just miss something else, more.

It’s late, half-past three in the early hours of the morning, and you’re sitting out on the balcony attached to your overpriced shoebox of an apartment. You’ve found yourself sitting out here more and more as the summer heat turns into the cool of fall. Your balcony is so small there’s only room for a single chair, and your feet are propped up on the wrought iron railing. New York’s the city which never sleeps and the crackle and groan of the city resonates around you. Your oldest camera, a Canon you bought in college with the pennies and dollars you’d saved from tips earned from waitressing, sits on your lap. All night, you’ve been trying and failing to chase away how unsettled you’ve been feeling by peering through the viewfinder and trying to see things from a different perspective. 

But it hasn’t worked. You've been feeling discomfited of late, unsettled and restless. Maybe your listlessness has something to do with your next assignment. You can’t lie, not even to yourself no matter how hard you try. It has everything to do with your next assignment. You should be excited. You should be asleep, because at least if you were asleep, the time would pass sooner. For once, you will not be photographing a new designer collection. In the morning, you're flying to San Diego to take pictures at North Island Naval Base for a follow-up piece sanctioned by the US Navy. Your team is joining you, which should be a comfort, albeit slight and slim. There will be more planes to photograph and possibly shots you can take from within the cockpit or from up in the air.

It took three months to publish the article on the US Navy’s newest hotshot aviation squadron. There had been countless revisions and rounds of approval with the US Navy's Office of Public Relations to greenlight the endeavor. It's been exactly the same amount of time since you met the Dagger Squadron, too - only three months after you edited the photographs, focusing maybe a little too much on one face in particular. Three months after you took the biggest risk of your life, professionally and personally. Three months after you made a sex tape with a client. It doesn’t help that he was a memorable client, too - and how you haven’t been able to forget him.

It's only been two weeks since the magazine hit newsstands with your picture of the Daggers in all their finery near one of the jets on the front cover. Everywhere you go, it seems you see their faces - his face. Your phone has been ringing off the hook ever since. Everyone wants you to take professional portraits of their clients. But your phone has never had the voice you so desperately want to hear on the other end of the line. It's a nationally distributed magazine, after all, and like everything nowadays, published both physically and digitally. The magazine had also mailed special copies to each member of the squadron which was your subject. So he has to have seen it. So why hasn't he called? It's the one question on your mind. It may be the only question on your mind, but it's far from the only thought in your mind. 

Chances are, he doesn’t want to talk to you at all. After all, why would he want to?

You couldn't silence the thoughts if you tried - and you have tried, repeatedly. Getting drunk made you maudlin, going out had you seeing his face in every stranger’s and getting laid had made you wish you were with him rather than anyone else. Over and over again you’ve found yourself thinking about those last few moments with him, agonizing over every detail, from the kisses and touches to the last time you saw him. Maybe you hadn’t been entirely clear in your note to him. You can recall the note as if you wrote it yesterday, the note you'd affixed to the flash drive you handed him.

Sure, you told him to call you when he was in New York next. But really, you wanted him to call you, period. Or text you. Something, anything to show you’re lingering in his memory in the same way he lingers in yours. You thought your dalliance had been memorable enough. You hoped you were memorable enough. After all, it's not every day you let a man fuck you up against his jet and record it, forget a man you’ve known only for a few days. Maybe it’s a little silly how attached you’ve gotten to him, given the short time frame, after what should have been completely meaningless sex. 

But it’s not meaningless anymore, at least not to you, after how many times you've seen the video since you last saw him. Your camera hadn’t hidden a single thing when you made your little home movie all those nights ago. You’ve seen how his hands had been gentle, his eyes soft. Your entire countenance had been beckoning, beguiling in the throes of passion, needy in a way you’ve never let yourself be before with anyone else. He’s also spoiled you for any other man on the planet - or at least in New York. You haven’t hit the same heights since him, and a part of you is sure you never will again. And now you have to enter the lion’s den, venture right into enemy territory with your head held high and only a camera to shield your too-hungry gaze.

A thump on the railing drags you out of your reverie. Your neighbor’s escape-artist black cat makes himself at home on the railing, paws flexing as his tail lashes through the humid night air. Like you’re in a dream, you lift up the camera and peer through the viewfinder. Tonight, everything seems to be coming back to lens flares. The neon lights fracture in your camera lens, softening the visage of the cat on the railing, green eyes luminescent. With reflexes born of years of wildlife photography, partially stunted after nearly a year of fashion photography, you depress the shutter with a soft snick and a near-silent whir. What you’re left with is a long exposed image - neon lights blurring in the background as one shines behind the cat’s head. Even his fur is blurred, only green eyes in focus, piercing into your soul. It’s perfect, as expected, and you hope it’s an omen for the days to come while you’re in San Diego.

Green eyes, different from those of your neighbor’s cat, haunt you, even more, the following day as you pile out of one of the minivans the studio rented for you and your team, as well as all of your equipment, on the tarmac at North Island. The humid, sticky air stinks of jet fuel and salt water. The wind brushes past you, snatching at your hair and ripping your sun hat right off your head. It's hot as it brushes by, providing no relief to the insistent heat.

Your team just laughs as you chase, bedraggled and exhausted, after your hat. The wind pushes you towards the hangars at the end of the tarmac, colossal doors thrown open while rows of jets stand gleaming. For the first time, you think you understand why Jake is so in love with being up in the air in his jet, how close to the elements he must be with adrenaline coursing through his system. You raise the camera resting against your chest, leaving your hat to fly where it wants, because you have to capture this.

When your camera focuses, you start snapping with abandon, capturing the sun-drenched metal and heat waves rising off of the pavement.  You’re not sure what pictures the editors will select to go with the article the journalist is going to write. Regardless, you’re stealing the time to take some filler shots now, when it’s bright out still, and blindingly golden outside. Your team is far behind you, still clustered by the cars, as you trail between the shining metal hawks, cockpits closed and emblazoned with names and callsigns. Your heart stutters in your chest when you see his jet, the text dark and fresh, announcing he’s been promoted. So, he's still operating out of Naval Air Station North Island. 

Faintly, you can hear voices emanating from one of the open hangars, so you creep closer, your old Canon camera clutched to your chest like it can protect you. Twenty-four of the US Navy's best aviators are saturated in gold, settled in creaking plastic chairs. Jake’s at the podium, laser pointer in hand, completely relaxed as he talks about things you couldn’t understand if you tried. The light glints across his face, catching angelically on the burnished strands of his hair. A singular fluffy lock has broken free of his hair gel’s hold, trailing softly across his forehead. It makes your fingers ache to push it back into place. But you can’t, because you won’t interrupt or embarrass him. So you take pictures instead, breathlessly, silently, framing the aviators limned in gold like they’re deities waiting to go to war.

You’re not sure when it happens, but he sees you - bright green eyes colliding with yours, a nearly imperceptible frown creasing his brow before the skin smooths. He doesn’t look happy to see you. In a way, it makes sense. You were just a one-night stand, something sexy to indulge in - not someone he'd want to keep forever. The look lances through you, skewering you in place as the wind and sun stick your blouse to your back. He doesn’t acknowledge you but for one curiously blank look, and you’re mortified as you walk silently back to your crew, who are now grouped around the jets in awe.

As expected, Adam and Lea, your stylists extraordinaire, are already scribbling away. Lea's flicking through the tablet in her hands. If you were a betting woman, you'd bet good money they are already planning outfits to take advantage of the blue, gold and white theme of North Island.

“Hey, Boss!” Amy, your assistant, is nearly bouncing in place with her excitement. You're not sure how she's so energetic despite the heat and the hours of travel. “Our liaison should be joining us soon. They'll give us a tour of the base and then show us where we'll be setting up shop this week.”

She doesn’t notice how frozen your smile feels and how mechanic your nods are. All you can think about is Jake. He must have known, right? What are the chances he didn’t know you were coming to North Island to take more pictures? There must have been some briefing or notice informing the aviators why you're here. After all, you’re here to photograph the Dagger Squadron. Then why was his face so blank when he saw you earlier? Thinking about him is driving you crazy, but you're not sure you can stop. All you want is to know whether he could ever feel as strongly for you as you do for him.

When your liaison walks up ten minutes later, you’re pleasantly surprised to see you have not one liaison, but two. Neither of your Navy appointed liaisons is Jake, something which you should have expected, but you were still hoping for regardless. Lieutenant Commanders Trace and Floyd are smiling from ear-to-ear as they greet your team by name. Lea and Katie seem especially enthused at seeing the soft-spoken bespectacled WSO again. Lieutenant Commander Trace is her same unflappable, cool, collected self. Her presence and dry sense of humor has you in stitches as you and your team follow behind her like a herd of ducklings. There are familiar faces around what seems like every corner of the base. But none of the faces are the face you still want to see so desperately.

Jake Seresin shows up again as you’re oooh-ing and ahh-ing over the big hanger, burnished yellow, orange, red and pink in the light of the sun. You’ve got your camera up to your face, lips pursed in concentration, eyes squinting as you peer myopically through the viewfinder. It's his voice you hear first. Just hearing it, with the same rough timber, makes you remember what he told you, before you fell into his arms and headfirst into this situation with Jake Seresin.

God, baby. You killed me this morning. Wearing that pretty little skirt and those high heels. I wanted to bend you over and fuck you until you were leaking my cum.

It’s not a good sign, is it? How you’re unable to even look at his face without giving yourself away. The evidence of your feelings must be on your face, which feels uncomfortably hot. The heat is completely unrelated to San Diego's sky-high temperature and you shy away from eye-contact when you pivot and face the rest of your team, and the trio of Lieutenant Commanders. The sight of him hits you in your solar plexus, robbing your breath and leaving your palms uncomfortably clammy.

“Hi.” 

It’s a quiet greeting, your voice swallowed by the sight of him. It feels like your tongue is two times bigger than it should be in your mouth, unwieldy as you force it to move like you want it to. He doesn’t hear you, or even acknowledge you standing there waiting for him to notice you. Standing there, you finally realize how big a gulf there is between you and Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin.

It's a sharp contrast. He's standing there in his khaki uniform crisp and new, blond hair dark at his temples from the shower he must have taken. In contrast, your shirt is covered in wrinkles, your hair is frizzy with flyaways escaping your braid and your worn jeans are butter soft but have definitely seen better days. He ignores you for the rest of the afternoon. It hurts, of course it does, when he doesn’t notice you in the same way you notice him. But you have a job to do. You can’t - you won’t - jeopardize your career for a man, not even a man as beautiful as he is.

The now-trio of Lieutenant Commanders shows you the Officer’s ready room, where you'll be setting up for the interviews. Each member of your team is also given a badge on a lanyard allowing you limited access to certain areas of base. Soon enough, you're left to survey the ready room and prepare your team for the days ahead.

“I know it's been a long day already for you all.” Your smile is a little wry as you continue, “It's been a long day for me too. All I want is to unwind and get out of these heels!”

You let the scattered chuckles from your team peter out before continuing.

“Before I can do so, we need to sync up on what we're going to be focusing on over the next few days.”

“First and foremost on our list? Getting pictures of the Daggers while they are being interviewed. The interviewer is an old friend of Admiral Kazansky's and will be spotlighting each of the Daggers. As a part of the interview, we will be expected to get photos of each member of the squadron in their flight suits, their khaki uniforms and their dress uniforms.”

You raise your hands up to stall any questions. “I'm aware this isn't exactly the type of photo shoot we're used to. Katie, you’ll be on hand to help with their make-up during the interview. We're keeping it light and subtle. For the interview photos, we want the aviator's uniforms and medals to shine.” 

“Seb and Kris - the two of you will be measuring the light levels in this room during various times of day and setting up artificial studio lights as necessary. I'll also need you both to check on the lighting situation in the big hangar we were in with the desks and the United States flag on the wall.”

“Adam and Lea, it may not sound like it yet, but I will need you both on your A-games. By special request of Admiral Mitchell, we've been asked to stage a beach bonfire. He wants this interview to echo the beginnings of this squadron. They became a team on the beach and now they are a family. I'm thinking we need cozy textiles and bright winter-toned colors. I'll leave the color palette to you both. All I ask is we have a cohesive palette for the squadron as a whole. As always, measurements for the aviators are included in this dossier. One of the minivans is yours. Our office in San Diego knows to expect you both.”

It doesn’t surprise you at all when Adam and Lea make a beeline for the doors as soon as you’re done with them. You’ve worked with them both long enough to know how they operate. They’ll be downtown and looking through the clothing on display before you can blink.

“Ames, while I run point with the admirals,  you'll be sourcing the beachfront we can use for the bonfire. I'm not sure who you'll need permission from, but there might be a bar owner who can give us permission.”

Before long, it feels like you're the only island of calm in the entirety of base. Seb and Kris wander in and out of the room, measuring the light and carting in and out lighting equipment. Even the teleconference you have with the Admirals, both of whom are in Hawaii, due to fly back in a couple of days, goes smoothly.

Over the next few days, you find yourself building on the rapport you created with 6 of the aviators in the Dagger squad in the following days. You also meet the other half of the Dagger Squad. But at the same time you are building a relationship with the other Daggers, it feels like you're losing the relationship you once had with Jake.

The only time you see him during the four days of interviews and pictures is when he is being interviewed. Even then, he spends more time chatting with Amy and Katie than you. Even when you address him directly, he's silent, content to play puppet to your puppet master and then disappearing to an area off base you don't have access to. It hurts, and you’re starting to get weird looks from the other Daggers. They’re all too polite, or too cognizant of their positions in the Navy to ask you any prying questions. At least, until the bonfire.

It hadn’t been difficult to organize at all, in the end. All Amy needed to do was speak to the proprietress of The Hard Deck, a little bar a few miles off base. Penny had been more than happy to hand over the usage of the beach outside her bar for the night. The combination of good food, even better alcohol, and of course, no interviews relaxed the Daggers enough for you to get the candid shots the magazine was looking for. Halos of light spark across your screen with each snap you take - lens flares sparking to life, again and again.

“Why aren’t you hanging out with Jake?”

The question makes you jump and nearly chuck your lens cap into the bonfire. You fumble awkwardly as you try to collect your composure.

“Lieutenant Commander Trace. What can I do for you?”

Your voice is a little shaky as you wheel around and face her.

“You don’t have to do anything for me!” She’s smiling at your discomfort, something wicked curling her lips. “And anyways, didn’t I tell you to call me Natasha three months ago?”

 You’re smiling despite yourself at her antics.

“It’s good to see you again, Natasha.”

“Forget about me. Why aren’t you talking to Jake?” 

You should have known she wouldn’t be able to let it go.

“Three months ago, you could barely keep your eyes off of him and the same was true of him. He went out of his way to chat you up every chance he got. And now? Something happened between the two of you after we all left the hangar, and now neither of you is talking. You were fine when you showed us the pictures the next day. But now?”

You shrug, lifting your camera up to snap another couple of pictures of the squadron having fun.

“Oh my god. I can’t with the two of you. Either you walk over there and talk to him, or I’m going to get him to talk to you!”

You grab her arm before she can march away.

“I can’t, Natasha.”

You try grabbing for her, but before you can, she’s already gone. His eyes cut over to yours the more she speaks, and you’re not sure you like the way he’s glancing over at you. Your heart is in your throat as he skirts around the bonfire and sidles up to you.

“What are you doing here? Natasha has this crazy idea you’re heads over heels for me, but the way you’ve been acting says differently. So what are you doing here?”

His voice is so quiet you can barely hear it over the crackling bonfire. His face doesn’t change its expression once the entire time he’s speaking to you, barring one tiny, blink-and-you-miss-it smirk. Once again, you have to thank Adam and Lea for their work because the Lieutenant Commander looks good enough to eat in his sweater and butter-soft jeans. But you know he's not happy to see you. The disappearing act he's been pulling ever since he saw you outside the hangar four days ago is proof.

“You know what I’m doing here, Jake.” 

“You're taking photos for another article. I know, I know.”

His smirk deepens, eyes twinkling maddeningly as he prowls closer to you.

“But between you and me, it’s just the official excuse, isn't it?” He tugs at a strand of your hair, reeling you closer to him. “But unofficially, I bet you want more of me. Maybe you want to make yourself another home movie? See my handprint on your ass cheeks again?”

His words have heat rising to your face, never mind how your skin already feels too toasty from how you've been huddling near the bonfire all night to keep yourself warm. Form-fitting dresses are not beachwear, especially not in late November. But you’re dressing to impress, wearing sharp blazers and business frocks. Add to the dress the camera and purse you’ve got over your shoulder, and you’re definitely not equipped for the beach.

“How do you know what I want?”

Your voice is thready and light, and your head spins the closer he gets to you. It's weird. You've been aching to have him this close to you all week, but now, when he is actually close to you again, you feel like it's too much, like he's too much. Every night in your hotel room, you've been coaching yourself to ignore him. You’ve had to in order to compartmentalize and be professional while on base. Yet, after only a few minutes in his presence, all your defenses are shredded like tissue paper.

“Because you're looking at me like this.”

Wafts of fragrant wood smoke drift by you and him as you stand mere inches away from each other. You can’t refute his statement. Not even a little bit, not even at all. You've never been able to mask your emotions, wearing your heart on your sleeve and your feelings in the pursed set of your mouth and the raise of your eyebrows. But you’re still not sure what you can say. If he’d propositioned you with the same vulnerable look in his eyes the first day you were in North Island, when he first saw you again, you would have folded like a cheap lawn chair. Then, you probably would have been more than content to pass on your expensive hotel room and make his lonely base apartment a little warmer. But he didn’t, and you’re not sure you can take the risk anymore.

Jake’s shoulders hunch, sinking into the impossibly soft cashmere of the sweater at your lack of response.

“I…” His smirk flattens, something like his Hangman mask taking its place. His shoulders never drop past his ears the longer you stand there with him at arm’s reach and pretend like you’re having a blast at this beach photoshoot turned bonfire party.

“I’ve read this all wrong, haven’t I?”

His sigh is gusty and almost too loud. “I was waiting for you to say something, because I’ve been dying to see you again. But then you ran away when you were taking pictures of the Top Gun class. Afterward, I - I didn’t know how to say I missed you, which is weird, I know. We only knew each other for a singular night.”

If your jaw isn’t on the floor already, you know it will be soon. Already, you’ve been getting too many questioning glances from your team and the Dagger Squadron. Then there is Natasha’s well-meaning meddling from a few minutes ago. Even the admirals have glanced over every once in a while at you and the normally cocky Lieutenant Commander standing in near silence. It’s not a conscious thought which has you whirling around in the silky sand and snagging a hand into his sleeve. You’re not sure why you’re doing it. All you know is if you’re having this out now, you need to have it out in private where it will not be injurious to your career or his.

Thankfully, Jake doesn't fight you as you pull him towards a corner of the parking lot. Your face feels flushed, and your chest heaves with panic at the thought someone could know what you and Jake did.

“I…” 

You cover his mouth with your hand, pretending the feeling of his skin on your hands doesn't burn, like you’re not completely aware of the masculine heat emanating from his skin. For several long moments, you stand in the shadows between two pick-up trucks in the parking lot. Each of your muscles is tense, waiting for someone to realize you've disappeared with Jake Seresin, of all people. You don’t want to think about the possibilities they were assuming. The prickling, uneasy sensation doesn't pass with the moments but does fade a little.

“What was that about, huh?”

You just glare in response.

“I thought it was better to have this conversation where we were less likely to be overheard, is all.” 

Your voice is prim, and your nose is tipped upward. It's obvious Jake doesn't feel the same way you do about this conversation, if he’s asking you questions like this.

“C'mon, sugar. If you wanted to let me down, you could have just said it by the bonfire. I promise I won't harass you.” His brow is furrowed as he thinks through all the implications of your statement. “Then or now.”

“I…” You fling your hands upwards, feeling this sudden urge to rage at the stars above you. How have things gotten so twisted? In your head and between you and Jake? 

“I don't want to let you down, Jake.”

You growl, then, because you know what you feel, but the words aren't coming out of your mouth the right way. He's patiently waiting for you to figure it out, lips pressed into a thin line, and green eyes scorching through you.

“I’m not rejecting you, Jake. When I came to North Island Naval Base and saw you standing in front of the lectern, I wanted you to smile when you saw me. I wanted some indication you felt the same way I did. I also wanted to kiss you, but it wouldn’t have helped then.”

You're smiling again, just a slight curve to your lips, a smile Jake is mirroring.

“Then you pretended I didn't exist. You pretended I was just someone you worked with before. Not someone who you were intimate with. Not someone whose life you changed with your stupid smile and your piercing eyes and your big, gentle hands. I…” 

To your embarrassment, you're sniffling and fighting back tears. “I didn't know why, or how to deal with it, so I just pushed back all my feelings. I pretended the same thing you did, and tried to ignore how much it hurt.”

“Fuck.” The quiet expletive echoes around you. “I messed this up, didn't I?”

He's pacing now, back and forth in front of you, shoes sliding through the gravel as he marches. He's ruffling his hair, face scrunched up in anguish at your words.

“I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I've watched our video so many times, I know my favorite parts. Fuck, sweetheart, I even took the picture of your ass with my handprints on it with me when we were deployed a month ago. I was nearly given so many demerits because of how hot that picture is.”

Your heart seems like it’s going to burst out of your chest, beating as hard as it is. 

“So why didn’t you call?” The same plaintive, sad tone is in your voice again.

“What could I have said?” He’s finally stopped pacing back and forth at least. He flings his hands out from his hips “Sweetheart, I want you, I need you. I wish I could fly to New York right now to taste you again?”

You have to snicker at the sarcastic, sardonic note in his voice. 

“It’s a little melodramatic, but I would have taken it.” 

Just as quickly as you snicker, the laugh peters away into a gentle sigh. “All you had to do was tell me you missed me, Jake. All I wanted was for you to tell me you wanted to see me again.”

“Would it have mattered if I did?” 

He’s stepped closer again, close enough you can feel the heat of his skin against yours. One of his big hands cradles your jaw as he looms over you.

“I asked you a question, pretty girl.” There’s a smirk on his face as he ghosts his lips over yours.

“Why would my answer matter then?” You’re not sure where the sass is coming from, but it’s making Jake smirk even more. “Knowing the decision you made?”

Thankfully, you don’t have to think of a response with a brain wholly occupied by the man drawing you into his arms. You melt into the kiss like it's something visceral you've been missing. His hair still feels the same against the pads of your fingers, golden silk, as you wrap your arms around his neck. He still tastes like you remember, too, cinnamon and smoky spice intermingling on your tongue as he licks into your mouth. Your heart sings when he gently positions your camera so it isn’t crushed between the two of you.

You whimper when he pulls away, chasing after his mouth like you're addicted to it. He still kisses like he flies, you note dimly, thoughts far away. The car at your back is cool, the metal searing into your skin as the sun has long since set. But the cold temperature of the car has nothing on the man crowding you up against it. His eyes are lidded, gaze hot as he takes in the sight of you. The dual temperatures are enough to make you shudder.

“Look at you, darling.” His hands are just as hot as his gaze as he trails his hands down your sides. “A single kiss, and you’re aching for me.”

You can’t deny the effects this man has on you. In truth, the time for denial would have been some time before you made the movie at the hangar. You’re so far down this path there isn’t a way to turn back. 

“You want me just as much.” 

Your voice is quieter than the rush of the waves, yet loud enough you can see the impact as they hit his ears. He’s still just as fit as he was three months ago, all hard, hot muscle as he presses up against you, cedar and plum wafting through the air off his skin. You can feel the jut of him against your hip as he muscles you even further against the car, spreading you out like a meal he wants to eat. He transfixes you with a glare when he pulls away, even as he smirks at your breathy moan. You watch, eyes lidded, as he opens the truck door and sets your things on the broad seat. You’re panting with need when he comes back to you, body shivering as he leans into you again. His hands find their home against the curve of your waist, fingers still nimble as they focus on tracing your curves in a way which might be driving you just a little mad. You almost wish you were wearing a blouse and skirt again like last time, because at least then you could feel his hands spread across your ribcage, searing their heat into your bones.

You’re lost in him, utterly captivated by the way his tongue tangles with yours, the way he makes you moan. Unlike the rough, claiming kisses of your first sexual encounter with Jake Seresin, these kisses are tender and sweet. They’re searching and tasting, like he’s trying to learn what makes you tick and what makes you moan. In truth, it feels like he’s trying to take you apart only to put you together again. This time, you’re not sure you’ll ever be the same, forever changed by the man in your arms. 

“Fuck…” The word is an exhale pressed to your pulse-point, sticky, sweet, and blindingly hot. “Baby, let me take you somewhere other than this dusty, dirty parking lot. I think I really need to see you spread out on my bed this time.”

“Yes, please.” The words leave you in a strung out moan as you tug him closer, fisting your hands in his hair and sweater as you see fit. You’re past caring so long as he’s pressed so perfectly against you.

When he finally steps back from you, you’re gratified to see he looks just as rumpled and debauched as you feel. For a few moments, you stand there, drinking him in, hands aching to draw him close again, to touch him again. He takes your hand, entwining his fingers and yours. His hand dwarfs yours, skin slightly rough as his hand cradles yours. You let him lead you to the truck and help you in, because a part of you isn’t sure you’re going to be able to let him go even when you have to.

It’s silent, but for the sounds of the road as he starts his pickup, one hand never leaving its spot on your thigh. Your hands find the camera again, snapping with abandon the vista blurring past the windows and the man driving you. The streetlights halo through the lens view, speckling the pictures with circles of golden-butter light. It seems like time slips past in a slow trickle. You’re still looking through the camera when the engine cuts off, the sounds of the night trickling slowly back into your ears.

Jake’s eyes sear through you when you carefully gather your camera and bag up, legs shaky from that look alone as you step onto the pavement. His hand finds yours again, as you follow his broad back up a flight of stairs and through an unassuming white paneled front door. You’re surrounded by the cedar and plum of his cologne as you step in, the scent lightly drifting through the air. Jake crowds you against the door as soon as it closes, hands divesting you of your things even as his mouth slants over yours again. The heat sparking between you ignites again, a flame bursting to life in your chest, fed by the soft moans leaving his lips as you kiss him with wild abandon.

For much of the way to his bed, your eyes are closed. You trust Jake to lead you the right way, not to hurt you as you stumble and shudder your way through the apartment in his arms. His lips don’t leave yours once, moans ripping out of your mouth as he leaves you breathless. He’s far from quiet too, softly grunting when you tug on the hair at the nape of his neck, gasping open mouthed into yours as you rub at his bulge. Arousal bubbles in your veins, crashing over and through you. You squeal when he pushes you onto his bed, the mattress so firm it's almost hard as you bounce against it. Your hands shake as you fight with your clothes. Adrenalin makes you clumsy as you nudge your shoes off and fight futilely with the zipper at your back. Eventually you give up, choosing to lean back on your palms. When you look up, Jake’s staring down at you, eyes trailing from the curve of your mostly exposed legs up to your chest and back down again. He’s got his lower lips between his teeth, brow furrowed as he shrugs the sweater off.

Once again, you remind yourself to thank Lea for her work, because if you thought the shirt looked good buttoned up, it looks even better as it slips off his arms. He’s still wearing his dog tags, the silver chain glinting in the moonlight through the windows as he prowls over you.

“You’re still prettier than the pictures you take, baby.”

You feel like you are barely breathing as Jake licks into your mouth. The heat of his body grounds you, the points of contact just enough to tell you this is real.

“Breathe, beautiful.” His hands draw you up until you’re kneeling on the bed, your hands on his shoulders as you peer up into his eyes. Your resulting exhale is shaky as you drag in breaths with just enough oxygen to keep your head from spinning.

“Let’s get you out of this pretty dress, huh?”

“Jake.” His name falls out of your mouth like a prayer. His hands are practiced, sure as they drag the zipper down from the nape of your neck to the base of your spine. The fabric of your dress gapes forward until it’s around your waist.

Jake's eyes seem to glow in the moonlight as he takes in the simple black bra you're wearing, hands tender and hot as they drag over your bare skin, mouth wet and sharp as he drags his teeth across your collar bones.

“Mmm, baby.” His moan has you gasping, your body listing into his as he purrs the words into your skin. “I'm going to make you feel so good.”

When he lets go of you, your nipples are firm peaks in the cool air. When he removed your bra, you're not sure. All you know is you want him, desperately, urgently. Your panties feel like too much material as they cling to you, the gusset damp. Your hands are clumsy as you wrench the dress off, shaking as you peel your panties away from your skin, you flush as Jake's chuckles echo in your ears.

Divested of your clothes, you're faced with one of the prettiest sights of your life. Because, Jake’s standing there, with his belt unbuckled, and the jeans unbuttoned. His cock bulges out through the v-shaped opening, and your mouth waters as you look him over.

“God, Jake, please.” Your voice is a whine as you reach for him, fingers resting against his taut abdomen, back arched as you wait on all fours.

“I’ve got you baby.” 

His promises drip over your bare skin like hot and gentle summer rain. Your eyes close as he cups your jaw, the rustle of fabric foretelling his bare skin joining yours on the bed. You let him position you where he wants, drugged by the sensations of his big hands. You steal the opportunity to kiss him again, palms splayed over his pecs, and the cool chain of his dog tags brushing against your fingers. Falling into him is too easy. It’s just a series of kisses, a sweet tangle of tongues as you let him cradle you in his arms. Sparks of need, of want traverse your moon-stained skin, hips canting against his thigh in need.

“How long has it been since you’ve cum, sweetheart?” 

There’s amusement in his tone as you wrap your arms around his neck, breasts pillowed against his chest as you nudge his nose with your own.

“Just a couple of days ago.”

His chuckle makes you pout. 

“And how did you cum?”

He rolls you over, ghosting a kiss over your lips as he peers down at you. “Was it some guy you brought home? Who didn’t know how to make these pretty moans spill out of your mouth? Did he make you think of me the whole time?”

When you moan, it’s because he’s pressing into you, the stretch of him making your toes curl.

“N-no.” You screw your eyes up, trying to string the words together. “It was just me. With a vibrator, watching our video.”

“Fuck, there’s my good girl. Waiting for your Lieutenant Commander to make you scream, right?”

You’re so far beyond words all you can do is tug him down, fisting your hand in his hair until you can kiss him again. He’s just as eager to pull you in, hitching your legs up until they’re propped over his arms, keeping you spread open as he pistons his hips until you see stars. 

“Please, please, please.” 

You’re babbling, your orgasm crashing over you with each sharp thrust. Your moans intertwine with Jake’s guttural grunts as his hips stutter at their steady pace. It feels like you’ve been set on fire when you cum, pulsing waves of heat washing over your body. Jake’s shivering as he slumps over you, blanketing your body with his. His hair is sweat-damp as you card your fingers through the fluffy strands.

“Missed you, Jay.” 

“Missed you too, sweetheart.” The words are languid and soft, syrupy and sweet. 

It feels like you could fall in love with Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin as he gathers you in his arms for what must be the hundredth time tonight to clean you up. Every glimpse of the man you see when he's not putting on his Hangman mask intrigues you more. There's a gentleness to him when he's like this, a secret softness shining past his imposing exterior. You want to know more. You have to know more. 

The realization of how little time you have left with Jake eviscerates you. Only two days left. Two days to love this man as much as you can. You can’t tell him how close you are to falling for him. Looking at his apartment, you have a feeling it would just scare him away. His apartment is almost austere, the off-white walls blending into the pale cream carpet on the floor. Everything is bare, with no pictures on the walls and no personality. It’s a trend throughout the entire space, everywhere but the bedroom. There's a cheery quilt at the foot of the bed. It's the only vibrant color in the apartment, the one thing which screams home.

“It's pathetic, isn't it?”  You jump at his words, gripping at the footboard of the bed in an effort to keep from falling.

“It's not pathetic, Jay. Just…” You turn, clad in the soft tee he'd pulled over you after the shower. “Just different than I expected.”

“I know what it looks like, sweetheart.” The same sad soft tone is in his voice again. “It looks like I don’t have any roots. Like I’m scared to let people in.”

He slides his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss on your shoulder, his golden hair dripping as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. “Maybe that is the truth.” 

Your heart breaks a little at the soft surety in his voice, even as he does his best impression of a koala around you.

“Because like it or not, I’m going to leave one day. I’ll have to leave one day. Another deployment. Another mission. And chances are, I may not be coming home.”

You clutch at him tighter, because right now, you’re not sure you can think about him not being in San Diego the next time you’re here.

“I was okay with my reality.”

When you wrestle your way out of his grip, you’re maybe a little too rough, evidenced by the grimace on his face as you walk away. You’re not sure where you’re going but away has to be enough. You’re not sure you can face him after he’s said something like this. After all, here you are, ready to risk it all in a sultry cross-country romance, ready to give your heart to him, possibly years of your life to him. Then there he is, admitting so callously he might not be coming home one day.

You’re staring unseeingly at the stars when he slides his arms around you again.

“Are you okay, Shutterbug?” 

You lean back into him, because he feels perfect against you still.

“Shutterbug is new.” You’re trying to change the subject, because if he’s insistent about it, you’re going to explode.

“Nuh-uh.” His hands turn you around until you’re looking at him again. “Tell me what’s bothering you, pretty girl.”

“You’re so callous about how you’re ready to never come home again! Why would you say that to me, Jake? I’m ready to risk everything for you. A cross-country relationship, half here, half in New York or really, wherever it’s convenient for us to meet. If you’re not willing to do the same, then what is the point of what we just did?”

You’re choking back a sob as you stand in front of him. Your eyes are screwed closed, hands wringing the hem of the t-shirt clothing you. 

“Why does it matter that you missed me, and that I missed you?”

“It matters, because, sweetheart, you didn’t let me finish what I was going to say.”

Your arms wrap around his waist easily as he tugs you closer.

“I was going to say, I was okay never coming home before you. You’ve been running around in my head, the center of every thought, the subject of my every dream for three months. You kept me going when we were deployed, too. All I wanted was to come home safe so I could fly out to New York and see you again.”

“Now, at least I know I’ll be welcome when I come by.”

You’re smiling from ear to ear as you kiss the underside of his jaw.

“Yeah, you will be.”

You're still smiling as you walk into the Officer's Ready Room at North Island the next morning. You've got the same swagger you had in your step the first time you and Jake crashed together. Only this time, you have his phone number on your phone and the promise of a romantic dinner for two tonight. You'd be lying if you said you weren't still worried about the long distance relationship, spending half your life in New York and half here. But more than anything, you're ready for the challenge and excited to. At least you know who you're going home to - and, he knows who he is coming home to, as well.

Taglist:

@desert-fern @horseshoegirl @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @dakotakazansky @roosterforme @beyondthesefourwalls @cherrycola27 @thedroneranger @a-reader-and-a-writer @hookslove1592 @mshistorylover @hangmanssunnies @kmc1989 @chaoticassidy

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

[justafellr]

Now let's talk about the limp drama queen themself, Ennui

My version of Ennui is a lil bit different from the Ennui in film. They are still very much deadpan, listless, lethargic and very very lazy. But I put heavy emphasis on the royalty/privileged aspect of their personality All of their basic need is met daily and have grown too comfortable with what they have, leaving everything outside of that failing to satisfy them. They are indifferent and at times a little contemptuous, not wanting to deal with or associate with most people/things out of apathy for those kinds of things and that smug sense of "I'm too good for this" or "This is not worth my time", representing my artsy fartsy side and my overall laid back indifference to most things in the world that aren't my business or don't affect me Tho they seem like they don't care about anything or anyone, they really do care a LOT, specifically of where they should focus their energy on and what to associate with. They regulate the other emotions often and is extremely level headed and down to earth as a result of their laid back nature, often being the one to point out the obvious solution majority of the time. Because of this, they are prolly the MOST intelligent emotion next to Sadness, Disgust, Fear and Anxiety Their design is heavily based on the concept art of Ennui when they had a lot of royalty motifs. I wanted to give Ennui a nose but I could never find a position that I was satisfied with so I just got rid of it, and I also realized that I'm literally redesigning them and I can make them look however I want lmaooo. Wanted to make them pink with my version as well but thought they might look too similar to Embarrassment in colors so I went back to a more violet indigo

I also took inspiration from Picasso paintings for their face since they are considered a high art that only the rich and privileged can afford. Really wanted them to feel high class in their appearance and I genuinely love the abstract look for their face and overall look. They almost like like a rich painting come to life lol

[rebecca-arielle]

hello have not been on here in literal years and reactivated simply to post my modern bridgerton hcs that came to me as i was falling asleep would not let me go until i wrote them down! enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~

the entire family is still very much british upper class - they regularly interact with the royals and attend all the family event like wimbledon and ascot. they are regularly featured in the pages of the tabloids much to their annoyance. they also went to either oxford, cambridge, or st. andrew’s (franny)

- anthony - still who he is, took over edmund’s position in the family business. huge company either a law firm, business like real estate or holdings. he’s ceo and damn good at his job. still viscount but it is really in name only.

- kate - still very much who she is, i can see her either going very much a lawyer or the artist route but i like to think of her as leaving her art as a hobby that she does simply for the pleasure of it.

- benedict - artist can do either painting or photography but has become very famous for it, initially it was because of the family name but then people started seeing his talent for what it is. his photos have been featured a bunch of times in british vogue and he is one of their go to photographers.

- sophie - very much a primary school teacher because of her experience with araminta as a child she was determined to not let that happen for other children so she makes damn sure that while they are at school in her class they know some one is looking out for them.

- colin - travel writer. he works for some magazine and has his own column. the magazine is owned by like some big media company that has their own building.

- penelope - pen works for a different magazine that is owned by the same parent company as colin’s so they work in the same building when colin is not on assignment. she secretly still runs lady whistledown that is like deux moi and once she gets outed she starts her own mini media empire. still besties with eloise.

- daphne - she is very much the perfect socialite philanthropist that is so perfect she seems like she would be a bitch but truly is that nice. is still married to simon after they fake dated due to some media scandal. lives her absolute best WAG life and has the season down to a science.

- simon - is a huge sports star, think david beckham. technically was still the duke but officially gave up the title to piss off his father. this man was born to be girl dad.

- eloise - once she realized just how much privilege she has, she put her money where her mouth is and is constantly going to protests much to anthony’s annoyance (not because he doesn’t agree with the cause just because she is giving the family a bad name in the press, he actually super proud of her.) el went to school for a degree in women and gender studies and is super involved in academia when not getting arrested.

- phillip/a - a botany professor at the university where el is based out of. still has the kids from their previous relationship with marina but they were able to get a divorce because it is the 21st century and co parent the twins quite well. their gender honestly doesn’t matter for this, they love plants and eloise - the order of that is not important.

- francesca - autistic, it is important to me that you know that. she is a film composer, she loves getting to create the score for movies and that it doesn’t require that much human interaction.

- john - still unfortunately passes away, but prior to that was some kind of finance guy. was generally the nicest guy and loved fran with his entire heart.

- michael/michaela - hot. like the most beautiful human being you have ever laid eyes on. they work as an actor because it’s fun but secretly are insanely smart and like build computers for fun.

- gregory - anthony’s mini me and he wouldn’t have it any other way. he works for the family company and loves it. generally small bean like but is insanely tall, like taller than benedict much to everyone’s annoyance but no one more than hyacinth. he worships the ground lucy walks on but they only have three or four kids because they have access to birth control.

- lucy - a mini kate. also a lawyer who’s family firm got bought by kate’s and then started working under her where she eventually met greg when he was visiting his favorite sister kate for their monthly lunch date. has ocd.

- hyacinth - a child prodigy, started university at like 15 (which she never lets greg forget) works as a ta (or whatever the uk equivalent is) for agatha who is an old family friend through whom she meets gareth. her field is like archeology or some other super niche thing. (agatha does not have to teach, she does it because if she doesn’t how else will the new generation ever be taught the right way to do things)

- gareth - is so fucking chill but absolutely matches hyacinths freak. no one is quite sure what he does, he has explained it many times but no one truly knows even hyacinth.

- violet - was besties with princess diana (old money england) she unfortunately passes around the same time as edmund and she just loses it. luckily it is the modern days was able to get help but it took a little while. though once she is back on her feet she is a force to be reckoned with. she runs the family foundation which focuses on mental health and allergy awareness.

thank you for reading this! i will take no criticism at this time but welcome any addition thoughts!

[whenmemorydies]

Another Storer/Calo musical deep cut:

Eddie Vedder, lead singer of Pearl Jam and the focus of so much of my adolescent thirst whose voice is featured all over The Bear’s soundtrack -

See: Vedder’s rapid-fire, gutteral one-two-three-four-five against one […] torture from you to me of PJ’s "Animal" over the end credits of 1x01 System or propelling the energy in Richie and Syd’s last ditch effort to save Friends and Family in 2x10 The Bear. See: Eddie (and Neil Finn) wailing And though we try to forget it, you will make me call your name, as I shout it to the blue, summer sky in "Throw Your Arms Around Me" over shots of Carmy making Syd's lamb ragu for Cl@ire while Syd undresses at home (this fucking show lmao) (also shout out to Melbourne/Naarm rock group Hunters & Collectors whose song Vedder and Finn covered). See: Eddie's yearning as he croons I've been planning out all that I'd say to you in PJ's "Come Back", as Carmy and Syd have metaphorical sex under a perfectly level table (shout out to @sydcarmyfan for that brilliant meta). See also: Vedder covering The English Beat's "Save It For Later" and singing, Save it for later, don't run away and let me down, you let me down in 3x02 Next while we see a litany of working class and racialised hospitality and food service workers gearing up for another work day in Chicago, just as Carmy is about to commence fucking over his working class and racialised crew at The Bear for the remainder of season 3 (this fucking show, gah) -

that Eddie Vedder, who is more commonly associated with Seattle and the grunge movement that was birthed there, was actually born in Evanston, Illinois: the same suburb of Chicago that its implied the Berzattos lived in (I say implied because its never explicitly stated on the show but we know that 2x06 Fishes was shot in Evanston). I always get a little chill up my spine when I come across connections like this on the show.

The Bear is such a love letter: to the food services industry, to film, to romance itself and almost certainly, to Chicago.

Author's note:

Enjoy this video of Eddie Vedder continuing to be a man after my own heart, talking about visiting his grandmother's old home in Evanston - a home he describes as the Sun that the rest of his family orbited around - which made me tear up because that's exactly how us grandkids felt about our Ammamma's apartment in Canada. Eddie talks about his grandmother having 6 kids and wishing he had bought the apartment to keep it like a time capsule, only to meet the current residents and changing his mind because it was a place full of "love and power and good vibes" that they took and also raised their 6 kids in. And all of this before launching into "Throw Your Arms Around Me" *sigh*

Its no secret that I love The Bear, but what I might love even more than the show itself are all the tangents, winding paths and deep cuts that it takes me to and which pull at my own memories and history. This art is so cathartic for so many reasons. And I doubt I'm the only one on here feeling that way.

[aliusfrater]

stanford era headcanons (for any winchester) please and thank you

instead of getting a new phone, sam used the one he had when he'd been kicked out til he could save up for another, then he kept the phone and phone number just in case dean or john called. neither of them ever did and he didn't try either, he'd even stopped himself from trying on several occasions and it'd ended with him crying in bed or at his desk with the phone in hand lots of those times. jessica was the one who'd eventually gotten him to part with the phone (the december of his third year, about seven months into dating) and the only reason he did was cause he figured john and dean had changed phones so many times at that point that they'd probably lost his number anyway. what he doesn't know and never will: they actually remembered his number but they'd never saved it on any of their new phones

john bought the truck a couple months after he kicked sam out and the fact that it didn't take as long to come up with the money as it would've with another son tagging along is what solidified the reality of what john had said to sam and what that meant for he and dean

i like to think that after the grief and within the perpetual blaming of sam for leaving, dean started resenting john really badly for not leaving the door open for sam and it's actually why dean started hunting on his own—dean timed it just right and found a small salt and burn job at the same time that john'd also found a smaller, more manageable job that he could do alone and he suggested splitting up it snowballed from there and they eventually started working separate jobs enough to develop a shorthand about communicating where they were and if they were okay

cassie really really liked dean's taste in film and would write mini-essays about them that dean liked to read. it reminded him of when sam would get sidetracked in research and tell him all about it

sam didn't celebrate the last birthday he spent with john and dean for a variety of reasons: a) he had still yet to tell them/they had still yet to find out about him going to college and he was too nervous about it, b) john was on a hunt and had explicitly told them he wouldn't make it back in time and that it was fine since he'd come home for his birthday last year (because he turned eighteen the year before (i like to think that sam was a year behind)), c) dean wanted to go out drinking with him and his fake id but sam really hated that he had a fake id and hated using it, d) ever since he was fifteen, he didn't actually like celebrating his birthday because it was just a reminder of the fact that he didn't want this to be his life. he was looking forward to celebrating his 20th at stanford

dean took a lot of jobs in arizona. he hates how hot it gets in arizona. john took a lot of jobs in the pnw

sam stopped drinking entirely for a few months after brady got fucked up that one spring break. it'd brought up everything about john's drinking habits

dean had a love-hate relationship with hanging out on cassie's campus because it reminded him that This was the life sam was living without him :( but it was also the life sam was living without him !!!!

sam's taste in fantasy films became a guilty pleasure for a little bit, especially when it came to the fact that he'd be in philosophy classes all day then get home and turn on what was basically abc ethics in a fictional setting

the reason sam had taken that class about native americans was because of the art history class he'd taken to meet girls. he'd read a lot of native american mythology throughout his childhood and he thought it was incredulous that the art history class didn't cover native american art

[magnifythesun]

Hiii so mexican salsa YES this post is a prompt! Feel free to change it to whatever you like, but I'd love a lil' story like this:

Ian and anthony are both very obviously in love and the whole smoffice knows it, but them lmao! I'd love this fic to be just text messages or slack posts or sth, where the cast and crew report of sightings of Ian and anthony doing very ianthony stuff and not realize it themselves. Maybe they come up w a way to show or nudge them in the right direction? But Ian and Anthony will still make it a bro moment (broment) bc they think the other one just wants to be bros LMAO ~ Japhan2024 💖

@japhan2024 FANTASTIC IDEA I have to believe that the Smosh cast legit has a secret group chat for stuff like this hahaha the looks on their faces whenever Ian and Anthony do something shippy is priceless

im going to wrack my brain for my favorite moments lolol I hope you enjoy!

(mid writing note: i first wrote basically all texts but it wasn't quite flowing the way i wanted it to so now there's a little more prose lol. this also taught me i do NOT know enough crew members' names)

read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56346769

---

It took Erin less than ten minutes to create The Group Chat following the slapping video caress incident.

Erin: "okay so what the fuck"

Tommy: "i'm beside myself."

Angela: "SO WE'RE FINALLY TALKING ABOUT IT"

It began, and all hell broke loose from there.

Most of the cast and crew didn't know Anthony too well when he first returned, but everyone could tell Ian began to positively glow once he came back. It had started mostly with little under-the-breath comments about how big Ian had smiled at something Anthony did, or shared glances after they looked lost in each other's worlds. It's not that everyone wanted to speculate about their bosses, but rather that their bosses were practically giving them no choice.

The real watershed moment was the birth of The Group Chat, which finally provided an outlet for all ianthony incidents witnessed by the cast and crew.

---

Shayne: "Please tell me how Anthony managed to turn his smosh cast interview into an hour of us complimenting Ian."

Tommy: "i swear he practices in his car on the way to work"

---

Erin: "not them discussing deepthroating injuries for like three whole minutes..."

Erin: "while Anthony sucks on his rainbow lollipop......"

Chanse: "they are not beating the allegations"

---

Josh: "So this is I think the fourth video I've edited where Anthony has called Ian daddy??"

Josh: "WHAT is the thought process. I just can't put it together. is Anthony just like yeah I'm going to call my bro daddy about seventeen separate times with varying levels of seriousness and that's good and het and normal."

Erin: "Josh, istg you don't see the half of it. Come watch them film and pay special attention when the cameras are OFF."

---

Erin: "im losing it"

Arasha: "oh god. what happened"

Erin: "i am not fucking kidding right now anthony just called him submissive and breedable."

Keith: "WHAT"

Erin: "he said what he said."

Angela: "BREEDABLE????????????"

Erin: "in front of god and everyone."

Angela: "BREEDABLE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!"

---

Tommy: "catching up on the main channel sketches and i just have to ask"

Tommy: "How many men can Ian date in his sketches until he realizes he'd like to date one in real life?"

Chanse: "don't SPEAK to me about it"

---

Tommy: "bicurious, hmm? Ian would you like to share something with the class???"

Chanse: "hes so deep in the mental closet his art is trying to scream it at him through his subconscious."

Chanse: "ive been there 😞"

Josh: "I've never been more prepared to edit a video in my whole life"

---

Angela: "Erinnnn not u directing them to stand closer together 😭😭"

Erin: "look I'm at my wits end. I'm thinking forced proximity might do it"

Keith: "if that could work they would have gotten it during kissing currency 😙💸"

Shayne: "@ courtney is this your thought process behind wanting a kissing video"

Courtney: "HA"

Courtney: "yes."

---

Courtney: "okay so if our plan at this point is just to make them read so many fanfics about themselves out loud that they spontaneously realize they're in love, we've got to find some fics that don't contain the word 'cummies'"

Angela: "what are cummies?? 😇"

Shayne: "ANGELA I SWEAR TO GOD"

---

As the incidents kept piling up, a plot began to form. Maybe Anthony and Ian were just so oblivious that they all needed to adopt a certain 'push-comes-to-shove' mentality, and do what had to be done. Everyone agreed, they had to find a way to put them in such a charged situation that this would all finally boil over, and the astounding tension that had plagued the office would be resolved. The ultimate achievement of this long-weary Group Chat.

Erin: "okay so one more time. everyone has talked with HR, yes? and everyone slated for the vid is comfortable with the concept of spin the bottle"

Angela: "what's spin the bottle? 😇"

Tommy: "STOP"

Shayne "1) Yes for the thousandth time, we promise. 2) What the FUCK are we going to do if this bottle never lands on Anthony and Ian"

Erin: "I will keep this shoot going as long as necessary."

Shayne: "That sounds like a threat?"

Chanse: "I'm suddenly regretting my decision. May I take my week's vacation right now?"

---

Erin: "how..."

Courtney: "did you see the look in their eyes????? :O"

Angela: "FATE WAS ON OUR SIDE. IT LANDED ON THEM THREE WHOLE TIMES"

Erin: "yes but,,,,,"

Tommy: "don't speak to me I'm still reeling"

Keith: "oh please don't tell me it didn't work."

Chanse: "i just have one question. how did they kiss THREE TIMES and still not realize."

Courtney: "they were both practically levitating from giddiness"

Arasha: "they just kept looking away from each other and laughing it off... they didn't see each other's expressions 😭😭"

Angela: "guys. guys"

Erin: "what"

Angela: "do u know what this means"

Angela: "now that we've pushed them over this hurdle... They're going to start bro kissing in their sketches"

Chanse: "oh my god"

Josh: "oh fuck you're right"

Erin: "that's it."

Erin: "im quitting smosh"

Amanda: "Oh hey guys! We have a group chat?"

Shayne:

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Lately, I’ve been thinking about Leon, Ada, and Claire. Especially on their relationships because I think they’re pretty interrelating so here’s another analysis made by yours truly <3

TW: mentions of mental illnesses, MY OPINION! + observations. This is strictly based on my knowledge. I’m majoring in English- doesn’t mean I’m 100% correct, it just means I’m pointing out some things that I thought were pretty cool. Take this with a grain of salt.

So I actually propose that we bring the color theory into play, mainly between Leon, Claire, and Ada.

In RE2R and in Infinite Darkness (death island too but I’ve yet to watch it), Leon is portrayed as blue. (His RPD uniform and his suit/jacket) back in my English class (film vs book) we talked about the different types of people and how the author/creator purposefully assigns a character a specific color.

By majority belief, the color blue represents sadness and often times calmness as well. However, I have a different view on why CAPCOM seems to love Leon in winter colors (blue/green/purple)

Leon is the definition of the Blue Character Theory- these types of characters are compassionate, loyal, confident, and can manage their emotions (keep it cool in other words) but sometimes these characters are prone to become over emotional (depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, etc.) and I actually wrote a small paragraph on Leon in infinite darkness about this because I found it so interesting that Leon- a cool and reserved guy, has these complicated emotions welled up inside him and one of the only ways we can tell is by the color of his representation. (Think of Euphoria and how colors really affected the way the characters act, especially Maddy and Cassie and how different they are.)

I’m also going to be hella bold and say that his eyes are a CLEAR representation on his character by color analysis. His eyes are blue, not only because he’s a white man- but because the “eyes are the windows to the soul” thing really does help us understand him better. They clearly did this on purpose to let the viewer catch a glimpse at Leon’s raw personality. His eyes are very expressive if you really REALLY analyze them.

And when you bring someone who is represented by the color red (Claire and Ada) there’s already an established connection between the two. Although Claire and Ada are way too different in personalities, I like to believe that they both have at least the same level of ambition, stubbornness and leadership. Red characters are known to lead or take matters into their own hands when the world is against them. If no one is going to help them then they’ll do it themselves.

In ID, Claire did her own investigation. She took charge and decided to that if no one would help her, including Leon, then she’ll just do whatever she can with the power she has. Ada is similar in that aspect. Ada has a way of getting things done her way, just like Claire. She uses the art of manipulation to make sure her plans are fulfilled, even if it means at the cost of others. She’s ambitious and goal-driven, much like Claire.

CAPCOM represents the two women in explicitly red or at least with red items (hair, dress, shoes, etc.) it makes me believe that they know what they’re doing when it comes to giving characters their own individuality.

Now, we know that blue and red are complementary colors based on the color wheel.

But we also know that Leon and Ada don’t really have a healthy relationship (I’ll get to this in another post near the future once I’ve got evidence) which is contrasting to Leon and Claire’s relationship. Which prompted the question: Why?

I mean, yeah Claire is Chris’s sister and by affiliation Leon enjoys her company. But it is also clear that the two of them worked very well back in RE2R (the fence scene) their chemistry and tension was high but when he’s with Ada, it seems different.

It is no doubt that Leon had/has (? I’m just as confused as bro tbh) a crush on Ada. I read somewhere from the notes on Leon that he was actually glad to have seen Ada in RE4R (not too sure for RE4OG since almost everything is about the remake)

CAPCOM purposefully follows the Red Oni/Blue Oni trope (a Japanese folk tale, shout-out to my professor for putting me on that) but what why are there two red ones and one blue one? Is CAPCOM keeping their choices open for Leon’s potential love life? I can’t say for sure what’ll happen or what everything means because this is something I over analyzed.

Remember, I’m only an English major student, I still believe my observations are pretty vague or at least a little bit underdeveloped. Hopefully sometime near the future I can make better analysis 🙏🏼

Also, tysm for all the amazing comments and reblogs 🥹🙏🏼 idk how to reply to reblogs but I really do appreciate the fact that you guys like my fics. I promise I have more to write (I have a list in my notes app lmao)

[ghostieyanyan]

~Fox and their love-sick hound~

Yan!Dog!Rook x Fox!Mc

Warning: yandere, hunting (its rook...), stalking, drugs??,

I really wanted to write something for this. like I said in the mainly art version of this. I 100% think Rook as a Dog is a Golden retriever. they're hunting dogs but also little ray of sunshine. i know there is a movie about the fox and the hound but in the movie the dog is a blood hound. but rook... as a golden retriever.. i had to qwq

~~You found the fanfic! There’s an art piece that goes with this, here you go! Enjoy ^^~~

~~~~~

Surprise! surprise! the classes were over and everyone were doing their club activity. You were just stopping by each club to see how everyone was doing. a friendly visit, you can say.

You stopped by the music club and saw that their 3 members were playing a new rhythm game on cater's phone.

You stopped by the Basketball club. you quickly left when you say Floyd throwing the balls like they were dodgeballs...

you stopped by the board game club. Azul and Idia were playing a card game that you couldn't understand with Azul honey laced words trying to explain it to you.

you see the film club in the hallway for a film shot. vil seems to be lecturing a freshmen... fun.

you see malleus on the roof looking at gargoyles, you wave to him and he waves back.

you watched Riddle ride his horse, flawlessly. Silver was sleeping on a horse and Sebek was screaming at him to wake up.. fun.

the magical shift club were playing their game

you see Jack and Deuce running around the school and you quickly yelled at them to not to drink water.

now the science club, you were honestly on the fence on even entering. its nothing about the club that made you uncomfortable. it was a certain hunter that did.

when you first meet him, he went on and on with compliments about your beauty. at first it was nice and quite flattering but it started to make you feel uncomfortable and you started to feel a little self-conscious. did everyone notice that you misplace your buttons? or did everyone notice the way you part your hair? all this "positive" attention was too much for you to handle and when you confront him about it.... it was like he was holding back before cause now he just wont stop! You started to avoid him every chance you got. the spotlight was just too much for you to take and you didn't have the heart to tell anyone about how you felt about this. it was too embarrassing and frankly silly to not like all the "praise".

you were still at the door to the science club... and you really didn't want to leave this club with say hi or checking in like the others... plus! Trey will be there! he might help if Rook does... a Rook.

You took a deep breathe for courage and open the door. you were introduced to a cloud of purple mist that smelled floral but sour? with the force of the mist, you were knocked down on the floor. you immediately braced yourself on the floor. the mist took a good minute for it clear out.

"Little pup! Are you okay?"

towering over you stood Divus Crewel, you couldn't see his face but you did see his coat which helped you to identify him. his hand was extended to you.

"im okay.. what happened here??"

you took his hand and stood. with your other hand, you waved off the remaining mist.

"tsk.. it seems a pup mixed the wrong herbs to the base making the reactions to be more... monstrous than it was intended. we normally have good ventilation here but.. frankly, if you haven't open the doors, we'd likely suffocated by the fumes, so thank you pup."

he starts to walk away to check his students, leaving you standing there process what he said... good thing you went into the science club then huh.. you thought. you make your way in the class room and helped some of the students clear out the rest of the mist, it was still kinda hard to see everyone but with a little wave of a notebook as a makeshift fan, it cleared up quickly.

you noticed that there is a lot of beastmen in here? weird but you didnt seem to mind too much. the kicker is when you recognize a non-beastmen beastmen.

"trey? aww you have cute little doggy ears!"

Trey has cute dog ears on his head! one of the ear's is up and the other is flopped down. They were just the cutest! As you were distacted by his ears, he laughs and turns to show off his tail. he knew what he was doing.

"heh.. we were making transformation potions kinda like the sea Witch but instead of turning merfolk into human, we tried humans into beastmen."

"ah.. that makes sense but... umm... may i..?"

you motion to his tail and ears. he lets out a charming laugh and nods. your face beamed as he bends down to you so you can pet his ears. they were so soft and when you brushed your finger on the bottom edge of his ears, they twitched. you tried to hold your joyish squeal and just hugged trey.

"hehe... im guessing you like my ears and tail?"

"mhmm..." you said in his shoulder

"you dont look half bad yourself, perfect"

you felt a flitch on your... head, no... ears? you immediately push yourself off trey and ran to the nearest glass shelf to look at yourself in the reflection. you had big long ears standing on your head. they looked a lot bigger than trey's ears but not like bunny ears. you looked at your behind and saw you had a big long tail. it was flowy and the fur looked coarse but soft too.

"but how-?"

"it was likely when you opened the door, and the mist hit you. any ways, i need to check with Professor Crewel and see when an antidote can be made. if you don't mind perfect, can you help out the other freshmen to clean up? we should get this place clear out of the mist or any hidden residue. there's extra lab coats and gloves over here."

"o-oh! ya sure. i dont mind."

you ran to slip on a lab coat and... felt someone's eyes on you. you looked around and everyone seemed to do their own thing. maybe your just not used to the extra sensations with your ears and tail?

you shrugged it off and hurried to check on everyone and clean up.

"..."

~~~~~

3 days...

3 days until you ears and tail were gone. Trey said since they were mimicking the sea witch's merfolk to human potion. they estimate they potion will last for 3 days. anyone with ears and tail (that aren't suppose to) are suppose to check with professor crewel immediately.

Frankly ace and epel are not helping! they keep laughing and messing with you. blowing wind in your direction to watch you ears and tail twitch. if you're nice they use magic, if not, they get close and blow in your ear.

"my gosh! quit it!"

the only time they actually stopped (until next time) is when deuce and jack are protecting you from them. such sweet hearts. they compliment it and Deuce actually ask to feel them, he's just curious!

Sebek isn't much help either. he doesn't play jokes on you but his yelling is 10x worst now. you were half tempted to go straight to malleus or lilia and ask if they can talk to sebek about his volume.

other than that everything has gone quiet... its just smooth sailing. until 3 days is up, you continued your day like normal. you get comments here and there but everyone (except ace and epel) has been main respectful. bet the science club are getting lots of questions. maybe some went to azul for a temp cure, i mean, scarabia can be really loud with all the parties. what about Trey? cater is probably all over him with request for pictures or maybe he should get ears and a tail.

you laughed to yourself as you make it back to the Ramshackle dorm. Grim is with ace and deuce right now, after they were caught messing with the desserts. so you have alone time for a while, yippy!

your ear twitched and you quickly turned around to find... no one there.. maybe.. an animal? with too many strange feelings, the ears and tail sensing things, you just haven't been able to feel alone recently.. you quicken your steps and rushed inside your dorm. you quickly locked the doors and check the rest of house. locking doors and windows. you did a quick clean of the place, no hanging jackets or clothes that can be mistaken as figures in the house. you're suppose to just enjoy alone time... which you don't feel alone.. which is concerning.. you run to your room and try to get comfortable. new clothes, and your phone with ace and deuce's number on standby.

you lay down on your bed and took a deep breathe.. then you were out like a light.

~~~~~

running.

how and why were you running? it was the third day, you were suppose to say good bye to the ears and tails, plus the strange feelings those ears and tail senses you couldn't shake off. you were tired of it, the first day, they were really cool to have and the senses were really neat but the strange feeling of just something, or someone, just made the whole experience sour for you. even when you were in the ramshackle dorm with grim, grim had to contently be your voice of reason, which is new but not unwelcomed. you could tell that grim was starting to worry for you, which made you feel a little guilty.

that night, you needed some fresh air. once you were out of the dorm, you sat on the pouch. the cold winds felt nice on your ears. you took a deep breathe and looked at the stars to calm your nerves. you just had to wait a few more hours... until midnight, right? you took a few minutes to just relax in the stars until you felt like you had enough and started to make you way inside.

when you stepped inside, you were greeted with a shadowy figure in your way. you froze, all you can see from his figure were their sharp eyes. no one moved for a moment...

....

..

the figured jumped at your direction! the ears and tail wasn't just for show, the potion gave you beastmen abilities too, like speed and strength. but mainly the speed part is important right now.

you swiftly jumped out of the way and ran.

you didn't know where to go. if you try to run to the other dorms, it'll take you some time just to get into the hall of mirrors. but if you head to the forest by ramshackle, there's a tiny chance you lose this creep but if they catch you, its all over for you.

you had to pick no chance or a tiny chance!

but you have beastmen senses, if you go into the forest. maybe they'll aid you away from this creep!!

who cares, just run!!

~~~~~

...

..

you were hiding now...

you do have beastmen abilities now but doesn't mean you still wont get tired. you were hiding in a little hole, two fallen trees made this small hole in the ground and you were so grateful that you noticed it. maybe you could run out of the forest now and hide in another building? maybe you successfully made the creep lost? hopefully..

you tired your luck, your chest felt so heavy but you had to get help.

you tired to be slow and quiet as you crawled out of the hole. an arrow was shot right in front of you, in the ground. you let out a quick scream and ran.

your running was short lived when heard a whistle in the wind and a sharp pain in your leg, you were shot. you fell and rolled into the dirt.

this is it. you couldn't make it home and now no one will hear from you again. you felt like your life was flashing before your eyes. regrets... guilts... what was the last thing you said to everyone..? would they be okay without you..? would you be okay without them...?! you feel hot tears falling from your eyes. you didn't want to go like this! there was so much you wanted to experience in twisted wonderland! please someone, hel-

"Aww~ Trickster, no need for these tears. shh... i was only playing~"

your heart downed, you slowly turned your head around to see him, Rook Hunt.. he stepped closer to you so you can see him better. he had floppy golden ears on his head and a wagging tail to follow...

"Aw~ My Trickster~ i see I've stolen your breathe away so let me explain. the day where you heroically saved everyone in the science club from our demise, we, including yourself, were gifted beastmen abilities. id admit, it took every fiber of my being to not just jump you when you were all over Chevalier des Roses. but.. i decided, since we were gifted these abilities, i should test them out. to understand your creations, you must test them. so i selfishly took on the hunt for my mon cher renarde~~"

he took off his hat and bowed, taking one of your hand and gently kissing your knuckles. you were too shocked to even respond. you were feeling too many emotions at once. does this mean you'll live? Rook was the strange figure that you sensed... that's why you haven't seen him in days. he did all of this to test the potion...? he shot you in the leg!!

you started to feel little headed and just collapsed on the floor. as you were falling in and out of conciseness, rook picked you up bridle style and started to talk some more.

"Ahh~ Mon cher Renarde~ watching you deny your instincts only to let them take over was truly an honor. Vraiment magnifique~ your cute little twitches, ahh~ i couldn't get enough. i might force you to take the potion again.."

he stops and smiles at you. a smile that made you feel sick.

"hehe~ just kidding~"

...

..

"unless..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

French words!! i used google translate so sorry for the people who knows french.

Mon cher Renarde = my dear fox

Vraiment magnifique = truly beautiful

[nyoaeuikhoudu]

Elite Force highschool hc's

stealing this idea from @texanmarcusdavenport because I too have headcannons that I must scream into the void.

Centium city is located close enough to Logan High that the kids all go there. Bree and Chase changed their last names so they can go to Logan without being recognized. Their alias last name is "Douglas" because they're not creative and it's hilarious to see their teachers meet Douglas Douglas during conferences.

While the bionic teens are well known around the world, there wasn't quite as much coverage of them in the Philly area because it wasn't super local, so Bree and Chase are able to fly under the radar easier since they're not household names around here.

Idk if yall know what this is, but I feel like it would be fun to have their school structured under the academy system. In short, along with required core classes like math and english, you have to pick an area of interest or career for your other classes. You get cords for completing courses in your academy and most of your electives will be centered around that area of study, plus it helps with college applications.

As always, we'll do this in alphabetic order

Bree:

After much deliberation, she decided on the Natural Resources and Agriculture academy (green). She originally wanted to do Human Services and join ROTC for drill, but Chase wouldn't let her because that would draw too much attention to them.

- her adhd makes it difficult to retain information, so she struggles with classwork, especially lectures.

- in the gifted program w/ Oliver (Chase is jealous lol) no, the gifted program is not based on grades, it's IQ based.

- not super interested in her academy, mostly just in it for the field trips.

- thrives in English classes, can whip out a grade A essay in 20 minutes.

- expert procrastinator, usually doing her homework the morning it's due or in between classes

Chase:

Part of the Business and Computer Technology academy (blue). Though he'd probably thrive more in Engineering, he mostly just joined to work towards inheriting Davenport Industries like Donald wants him to.

- very booksmart

- sacrificed his perfect GPA for maintaining cover. (He's sitting at 3.5, though he's definitely capable of 4.0)

- not the most social, trying his best to lay low.

- started working the schools coffee shop and snack hut for the finance side of things

- refused to test for the gifted program, pissed that Bree did behind his back despite his insistence that they don't draw attention to themselves.

Connie/Skylar:

Part of the Arts and Communications academy (purple). While she's not particularly skilled in the arts, she does enjoy marching band and likes spending time with Jordan and Gus (who are also both in AnC, art and film respectively.)

- gets decent grades. B average

- took an interest in theatre after Gus's Skylar Storm movie, and now helps out on tech.

- works the booth for shows, light design and helps out with mic checks

- surprisingly good at history for an alien- she convinced Chase to join her at history bowl and their team obliterated the other schools.

- involved in multiple sports, namely wrestling and dance team, but colour guard is still her favourite.

- so used to the name Connie that she doesn't even realise when people call her that outside of school, though the twins still slip up and call her Skylar in class.

Kaz:

Part of Health Sciences academy (red) to help with work, though he's less serious about it. If given a choice, he'd choose not to belong to any academy and just go home. He focuses more on the sports injury side of things, learning how to prevent injury rather than treat it for the most part.

- his grades don't reflect his intelligence

- struggles in class due to his adhd

- the only reason he's not failing his medical courses is because Oliver helps keep him on task

- tried three other academies before MM, none seemed to fit him best.

- the only elective he takes outside of HnS is shop, he especially loves welding and blacksmithing.

Oliver:

Also in the Health Sciences academy (red). Though he originally joined because of Mighty Med, he actually found a love for field, focusing on the Medical side. He's been taking extra science classes for fun along with academy courses.

- gets good grades, but definately not perfect.

- terrible at anything that requires math

- builds study dates into his schedule to spend time with Kaz and help him learn the material.- has been in the gifted program since elementary school.

- was originally part of AnC with the rest of his friend group, but switched early his sophomore year when he started working at MM

- still participates in band, playing the oboe for concert and marimba for marching season.

Ages:

Skylar is a senior, everyone else is a junior.

[benwalkerupdates]

(hopefully tumblr doesn't kill the quality LOL)

an interview that ben did with brandon voss for a january 2012 edition of playbill while promoting his run in cat on a hot tin roof!

also, full interview transcribed under the cut for anyone who needs it!

Benjamin Walker: A Walk on the Dark Side

After several presidential detours, Benjamin Walker comes back to the classics in Broadway’s Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.

By Brandon Voss

He’s played presidents in the popcorn flick Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter and the Broadway rock musical Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson, but Benjamin Walker now faces one of his greatest challenges in leading a classic Tennessee Williams family drama. Walker, whose previous Broadway credits include revivals of Inherit the Wind and Les Liaisons Dangereuses, stars as tormented alcoholic Brick Pollitt opposite Tony winner Scarlett Johansson's Maggie in the latest revival of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, which officially opens January 17 at Broadway's Richard Rodgers Theatre. The 30-year-old actor-comedian discusses the perils of onstage drinking and how he's found the funny in the dysfunction.

Playbill: You became an action star in Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter, and you’ll next appear onscreen in the HBO film Muhammad Ali’s Greatest Fight. As you branch out into TV and movies, how important is it for you to stay connected to the theatre?

Benjamin Walker: I started out in the theatre, and I'm never going to not be doing theatre. I love that the best literature is in the theatre, and I love the people in the theatre. I love that the theatre community is a real community, whereas the movie business is a business. I like working in that business too, and I'm inspired by people in that field, but it's the legacy of the theatre that keeps drawing me to it.

You showed tremendous loyalty to the theatre when you turned down the role of the Beast in the film X-Men: First Class in order to transfer with Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson from the Public Theater to Broadway.

That was a complicated decision, but it boiled down to the fact that I was going to regret not being a part of that show on Broadway. When you're lying there dying, those are the things you think about, and I didn't want that particular regret. I try to keep my regrets counted on one hand.

Realistically, that production may not have moved to Broadway without your involvement.

And those are my friends, man. We'd all grown with the show for so long. I was broke anyway, so I figured I could be broke a while longer. No big deal.

Unfortunately, Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson closed on Broadway after only 120 performances. Any regrets there?

Absolutely not. We took that show as far as it could possibly go. For that, I could not be more proud of the cast and everyone involved. I had dinner with [composer-lyricist] Michael Friedman a few weeks ago, and he was saying that Andrew Jackson is one of the top 10 most produced shows across the country. There are, like, four productions in Texas alone. That's remarkable. That's where the show should live and probably will for a long time.

What attracted you to Cat on a Hot Tin Roof?

Our director, Rob Ashford, was one of the first guys to give me a shot. We were going to do Brigadoon together a few years ago, but it fell apart. We've since worked together on a number of things, like opening the Smith Center for the Performing Arts in Las Vegas. I adore his work. He inspires me, and I knew that I could learn a lot from him. And Scarlett's not bad either! Based on those two components alone, I'd be interested in doing the play even if it were toilet paper.

Rob Ashford is an inspired choice for this revival, which marks his directorial debut of a non-musical Broadway production. He's a director-choreographer best known for his work on shows like Evita, How to Succeed, and Throughly Modern Millie.

Well, the play's very musical. It is music. It is poetry. It is dance. A trap of the play is to let the movement be worn down slow by the Southern heat, but these people really are like a cat on a hot tin roof — screaming, bouncing, constantly jumping in pain. The need for that physicality is something Rob really understands and is brilliant at pulling out of us.

One sometimes wonders why a particular play gets revived time and time again.

Oh, yeah. It's like, "Leave it alone! They got it right last time."

What is it about Cat on a Hot Tin Roof that people continually want to revisit?

It's about something that's truly timeless and that, because of the human condition, we will struggle with until we're extinct: The need to communicate and our inability to do so. It's also about the need to express love and feel love and how difficult that is. It's about the complexities of sexuality and how that's perceived. And it's about the idea of legacy and the future. A lot of plays only exist in a certain time, and when you watch them you're looking back on that time as if you're going to the Museum of Natural History. But when you read this play, the play's written so well that the poetry of the writing illuminates something about your own time. It's not a pageant of another era. It sheds a new light on your own issues with love and family.

What do you think separates this revival of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof from others before it?

We're certainly bringing a sexuality and a vitality to the play in a way that I don't think has been done before. We're approaching it in a way that there's real potential for calamity. It's going to be a mess in the way that real life is. These people say what they mean and mean what they say with all their heart, so it's very passionate in the Shakespearean sense. There's nothing casual or lackadaisically Southern about it. These people could pop at any second. But I don't really find it productive to compare productions. I find that dangerous. It's been a long time since I've seen the 1958 movie, and I didn't see the Ashley Judd version on Broadway in 2003, so I don't really know what's different about our production. You'll have to tell me after you've seen it.

Did you not see the 2008 African-American revival with Terrence Howard either?

No, I didn't. I wish I had seen that.

Tell me something interesting that you discovered about Brick during the rehearsal process.

There are definitely some traps for Brick, particularly in the early few pages of the play when he doesn't say very much and he's drinking a lot. So much of his life is about trying to avoid issues, avoid feelings, avoid memories. That can be a trap for an actor, because you're not engaged with anyone, so it comes off as blasé, one-note and boring. It's like watching a boiling pot: You don't know what's going on inside if there's a lid on it, but if you know that it's boiling, you know it can blow at any second. Visually, both pots are almost the same, so you have to have that internal turmoil.

Much of your audience will likely be familiar with Cat on a Hot Tin Roof from the film or from recent revivals. The great Paul Newman famously played Brick onscreen. Do audience preconceptions put any additional pressure on you?

Nah. Screw ‘em. [Laughs] I don’t understand how that's helpful to anybody. Those expectations certainly aren't helpful for the audience. If you're expecting something, looking forward to something, you're going to miss something. It seems detrimental to your experience, and it's also detrimental to our work. But I don't think as many people do that as we think. At least I hope not.

You married actress Mamie Gummer last year. Are you drawing on the new marriage, with all its ups and downs, to enrich Brick and Maggie's relationship?

Luckily, my wife and I don't have that much in common with Maggie and Brick. [Laughs] But yeah, I draw from every relationship. And Scarlett also brings so much from her own life that really creates a lovely chemistry.

Although she's primarily a film actress, Johansson won a Tony for her Broadway debut in the 2010 revival of A View From a Bridge. What’s it been like to work with her?

Oh, she's great. She's classy, she's well prepared, and she's well suited for the part. She's the whole package and the real deal for sure.

What's the greatest challenge in playing your iconic role?

Finding a pee break. I have to keep drinking, refilling my glass, and I'm onstage the whole time! I might need to hide a spittoon in the corner. Other than that, where to begin? Tennessee Williams is the best, but he's certainly the most challenging writer that I've worked on in a long time.

As far as Brick's heavy drinking goes, how method have you been in your research?

Oh, my research on that has been well done for years. I'm typecast, if nothing else.

Brick is leaning hard on the bottle following the suicide of his close friend Skipper, who had confessed his romantic feelings for Brick. There has also been much debate about Brick's sexuality. Do you see him as gay?

Oh, I can't tell you that.

Is that mystery important for the audience?

It's a strength of the play that it talks about something bigger than that question. If you're asking that question on the way out, either I've done my job really well or I haven't done my job at all — I don't know. Human connection is so much bigger than the categories we like to put it in, which almost ruins it. But I can already hear my mom — "So was he gay?"

I assume that you know Brick's sexuality one way or the other when you step onto that stage.

Of course. I can't show up if I don't know that. I can't say Tennessee Williams' words if I haven't done that work. That would be a lazy actor right there. [Laughs] Yeah, maybe I'll just figure it out as I go. Maybe Brick's really in love with Big Mama!

You're also a stand-up comic and host of a variety series called Find the Funny. Are you finding the humor in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof?

The more time I spend with my comedian friends, the more I realize that truly funny people are ones with a really deep inner darkness. Brick is definitely stewing over some painful stuff, and oftentimes people can only release that through humor, sarcasm, or being cutting in a way that causes nervous laughter. Tennessee Williams is a funny writer in the same way as Chekhov; if the audience isn't laughing, you've probably missed the point. There's a fine line between drama and comedy that we walk, and life is like that too.

Some theatregoers may compare your performance as Brick with your performance as Andrew Jackson. It's easy to dismiss those characters as having nothing in common, but have you noticed any similarities?

Yeah, actually. They're both very conflicted men at crossroads in their lives, and they have to make huge decisions that will affect the legacy of their families. Of course, the shows are very different. When a cell phone rang during Andrew Jackson, I could just yell, "Shut off your phone, you prick!" I have to get out of that habit.

You were born and raised in Georgia. Did that come in handy when working on your Southern accent for Brick?

My Southern accent's a little different than Brick's. The Pollitts are very high class and old money, but my accent is more country than Scarlett O'Hara. Working with the wonderful Deborah Hecht as our dialect coach, we actually looked at politicians like Jimmy Carter — people who needed this grandness to their language but also had a Southern thing going.

You seem to have lost your Southern accent altogether.

I have to fight it. They beat it out of me at Juilliard. My accent only comes out if I get angry, have a couple drinks, or talk to my mother on the phone. Then you can't understand a word I say.

[pomegranate]

THANK YOU to both @amrv-5 and @hawkesque for tagging me to ask for my list of

9 of my favourite films that I watched for the first time this year!

I’ve seen 49 new (to me) movies this year - and I will be watching at least one more new one before tomorrow at midnight to cap it off at 50 - and there were a lot of really great ones overall, but these ones get the honour of being named my favourites.

(after making this list I realized 4 of them take place during periods of sweltering heat lmao. INTERESTING)

- Past Lives (2023, dir. Celine Song): I talked about this one a bit in that end of the year ask meme but I really didn’t know what to expect going into this one and came out deeply affected in a way I’ve not been able to put into words. I can’t believe this is Celine Song’s directorial and screenwriting debut?!?! It feels so well-crafted and extremely deserving of the praise it’s received. I think this description from a Looper listicle sums it up beautifully: "a master class in the art of subtlety while evoking complex human emotions. The minimalist love story is like no other in how it expertly captures the slow-burn nature of fate. It's a bittersweet experience that'll leave you aching for all of life's "what-ifs.""

- Asteroid City (2023, dir. Wes Anderson): I really enjoy some Wes Anderson films but a few of his more recent ones missed the mark for me, so I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about this one. Happily, I had an absolutely fantastic time watching this with friends - it’s funny and inventive in a way that really tickled me, and the heartbreaking romance woven into the “background” of the story (quotation marks bc it’s not really the background) really stuck with me.

- High and Low (1963, dir. Akira Kurosawa): I’ll admit I wanted to see this after Ayo Edebiri included it in her Criterion Closet video bc I have a massive crush on her and I admire her taste, and BOY it did not disappoint! It’s just under 2 and a half hours long but I was so wrapped up in the tension and drama that the time absolutely flew by. My first Kurosawa film but definitely not my last!

- Nine To Five (1980, dir. Colin Higgins): I did not expect to have so much fun watching this but I should’ve known a movie starring Jane Fonda, Lily Tomlin and Dolly Parton would have me clapping my hands and stomping my feet with delight. Dabney Coleman is also SO great as their disgusting boss and a special shout out to him for how funny he was in each of their little fantasy sequences. God, if only real life was as satisfying as the ending of this film.

- Roman Holiday (1953, dir. William Wyler): I’ve had this on DVD for years but only got around to watching it this past August and OH what a beautiful movie! It’s wild to me that this was Audrey Hepburn’s first film; she’s totally captivating and I can’t take my eyes off her the entire time. Definitely one I’ll be returning to again and again.

- Moonlight (2016, dir. Barry Jenkins): I’m embarrassed it took me this long to watch this film but unsurprisingly, it’s as magnificent as everyone has always said. Chiron’s story is told so beautifully and the way it all comes together in the end is simply perfect. Every performance felt vivid and authentic and each actor who played Chiron made him feel like a real person I was watching grow up on my screen. Quite possibly one of the best movies of all time.

- Dog Day Afternoon (1975, dir. Sidney Lumet): I challenged myself to only include one Al Pacino movie on this list and since this is the one that kicked off my Pacino era (despite me having watched Cruising earlier this year), it’s gotta be here. Watching it a second time also highlighted how well made it is as a film - Al is magnetic in his performance as a desperate man pushed to the brink to take care of the person he loves. The rest of the cast is fantastic as well, especially the tellers, led by Penelope Allen. And now that I’ve seen the 2nd Godfather installment, my love for John Cazale has blossomed fully. I love the deeply disturbed Sal sooooo much. GOD I haven’t even touched on Lumet’s insanely masterful direction and the fact that this movie swings from unbearable tension to being hysterically funny within moments is BEYOND incredible. MOVIE OF ALL TIME!!!!!!!!

- Rear Window (1954, dir. Alfred Hitchcock): Another one that I’m embarrassed I hadn’t seen until this year, despite recognizing many references to it through pop culture (most notably the Simpsons ep where Bart thinks Flanders has murdered his wife). It lives up to the hype, with a murder mystery so well-crafted that even if you KNOW where the story is going, you’re still not entirely sure what’s going to happen next. I’m also so fascinated by Hitchcock’s use of cameras (both Jeff’s and the actual camera filming the movie) to show us the range of humanity on display within a fairly confined area and how Jeff’s voyeurism is contrasted with our voyeurism as the audience. I need to watch this again bc I know I wasn’t fully appreciating that storytelling device the first time.

- Do The Right Thing (1989, dir. Spike Lee): I said this in my other post from the end of the year meme, but I had absolutely no idea what to expect going into this movie and it floored me. I was immediately drawn into the vibrant community where I’d be spending the next couple of hours, with Lee’s distinctive directing style making me feel like I was right there in Brooklyn with the characters as the heat and tension simultaneously reached a boiling point. The explosion that we see kick off with about half an hour left to go in the runtime is inevitable but still felt like a punch in the stomach. God. I think my heart rate is climbing just thinking about it. One of the most powerful cinematic experiences I’ve had in a long time.

Honourable mentions that didn’t make this list include Bottoms (2023), Charade (1963), Some Like It Hot (1959), Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953), Hundreds Of Beavers (2022), Scream (1996), …And Justice For All (1979), The Godfather Part II (1974), Fancy Dance (2023), and The Holdovers (2023).

As for tagging other people, I’m going to leave it blank for now bc I’ve been sitting in a chilly vehicle writing this but I may come back later, not sure! I don’t want to pressure anyone who doesn’t feel like doing it but PLEASE do it if you want to & tag me in your lists bc I would love to read them!!!

[moregraceful]

Decided I needed an attitude adjustment and a stupid project to subsume my identity in so I made a paper bag book which I have wanted to do for a while and decided for Lent I'm gonna be nicer to my hockey teams and also myself. This will go fine after Friday 👍

Tutorial here for anyone who is curious.

[Video ID: a hand flips through a book made of different colored paper bags. The person filming laughs and says "yay".]

Process pics and blathering under the cut.

Last year I was talking to my church kids about the concept of "love your neighbor as yourself" because I was trying to convince them that the inverse had to be true too, like if you don't love yourself, you can't love your neighbor too...like you can't love your neighbor more than you love yourself, love starts with you. And that's why it's important to drink water and be nice to yourself. And they said whatever Mr. Goose you're so cringe. Can we do a BeReal in class. And I said fine but you have to help me clean up after class (they did not.) But I was thinking about that this morning because I was like, I don't like how I am behaving about my hockey team. This is not the thought pattern of someone filled with love for the people around him. Which is maybe regular brand depression but I spent too many years dragging myself out of being a huge hater to really love how being terminally mad and unhappy makes me feel. So I was like ok, for Lent I am going to be nice to my hockey team. But also that has to be true of myself and this has historically not been true of myself, as literally anyone who has interacted with me for an extended period of time can attest 😎 But ok, for Lent I embrace 1. being nice to my hockey teams, 2. being nice to myself.

But a key part of Lent is the practice and I was like there's no way I magically don't want to immolate myself and others at the end of a game and it's not like CBT has worked on me ever at all, so we're gonna make an art practice of it. I don't know what that looks at all but I'm gonna do it. And one of my goals this year was to use more of my art supplies and I'd wanted to make a paper bag book for a while and I was too lazy to go find and designate a sketchbook for this project -- and also imho sometimes it's good to get a little weird with it. So I grabbed a bunch of gift bags and we are going to see how this goes 😤 Some of the gift bags are really dark and I'm sensing an impending chalk pastels situation but it is what it is.

NOW progress pics

Took off the handles and then glued the edges of the bags and then had to fold them in half. Thank you to the whale who provided that bone folder. I did Elmer's glue for gluing the edges.

Glued the pages together with PVA glue because I remembered I had it lol and realised that it might be sturdier than washable kid's glue. And then realized it was going to take one million years to dry so stacked two 5lb weights on it. After it medium dried I glued a gift bag I got at a holiday shop which I'm lowkey mad about because I don't really want a Lent book with winter holiday imagery on it...but that is what markers, paint, washi tape, etc is for.

Shrove Tuesday is not really something Methodists celebrate because we have never had rizz and we never will but it was nice to do something today anyway.

[sopranoentravesti]

Not directly inspired by anything except for *gestures vaguely at the surrounding shitshow* but I do think more people could stand to read this article by Dara Horn about Roald Dahl from 2021.

I’ve included text of the article as well, under the cut. And to head off the whining of those who will perceive this as an attack on their favorite children’s book writer or whatever: read the damn article. This isn’t about “cancelling,” someone for being bigoted (hell, if I boycotted books or plays because the author was virulently antisemitic, there would be precious little to read). It is about understanding a really dark part of human psychology that is at play in conspiratorial thinking— which of course is at the heart of antisemitism— that Roald Dahl capitalized on. Developing a more mature sense of morality, rather than indulging in the bloody politics of blame and vengeance is crucial.

There’s nothing quite like the realization that what you thought was an empowering work of art is actually a 200-page exercise in trolling. It took me more than 30 years to figure out that I’d been trolled by Roald Dahl.

Dahl, who dominated juvenile publishing when I was growing up, revealed himself late in his career to be a vicious antisemite, who thought “powerful American Jewish bankers” ran the US government. He told the New Statesman that “there is a trait in the Jewish character that does provoke animosity, maybe it’s a kind of lack of generosity towards non-Jews. I mean, there is always a reason why anti-anything crops up anywhere; even a stinker like Hitler didn’t just pick on them for no reason.” This was in 1983, the year in which Dahl published The Witches, his 13th novel for children.

Apparently, Dahl had been an antisemite his entire life, but it didn’t prevent him from being essentially canonized after his death in 1990, and it didn’t much affect my thoughts about him either. I had adored his books as a child, and I’ve never taken much interest in the now-obligatory grunt work of connecting artists’ personalities (often horrible) with their works (sometimes great). And although Dahl was not only an antisemite but also (and even more damningly these days) a misogynist and a racist, he hasn’t been canceled yet. Who doesn’t love Roald Dahl, or at least his stories?

Hollywood certainly does. The most recent Dahl adaptation, which began streaming on HBO Max this Halloween season, is called Roald Dahl’s The Witches (note the value of the authorial brand), directed and written by Robert Zemeckis, with the help of two younger Hollywood powerhouses, Kenya Barris and Guillermo del Toro. It stars the high wattage Octavia Spencer, perhaps best known for her Oscar-winning role in The Help, and A-lister Anne Hathaway, not to mention the voice of the comedian Chris Rock. In fact, this is the second big-budget version of The Witches, the first having been a 1990 film starring Anjelica Huston.

But The Witches was on my mind long before I’d heard about the new movie. It was one of my favorite books when I was a child, one I read repeatedly and pressed into the hands of friends. I was eager to share it with my own children and hesitated only because, as a child, I’d also found it somewhat terrifying. But when I read it aloud to my eight-year-old son last month, I discovered that it was far more terrifying than I remembered, and for entirely different reasons.

The key to Dahl’s success as a children’s author lay in how he pitted children against adults, making children into a beloved underdog class whose moral victory lay in vanquishing their powerful exploiters. His heroes are blameless boys and girls tortured by diabolically abusive adults, whom they destroy in outrageous revenge sequences of the sort even the most fortunate child occasionally fantasizes about. In James and the Giant Peach, for instance, the orphaned James, enslaved by his villainous aunts, squashes them to death with the titular fruit. In Matilda, a kindergartener uses magic powers to terrorize a school principal who routinely locks children in a nail-studded closet. In Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, the starving Charlie, living in the sort of poverty that would make Oliver Twist qualify as a one-percenter, inherits a fantastical candy factory—but only after a book-length morality play in which wealthy children and their entitled parents are absurdly tortured and maimed. In George’s Marvelous Medicine, a boy forced to care for his heartless grandmother concocts a potion that makes her shrink and disappear.

In short, Dahl is like a modern Charles Dickens, except instead of social justice and spiritual redemption, Dahl’s books offer only revenge. Kids, like all emotionally and morally stunted people, eat this stuff up. Dahl tapped into something primal and hideous in the human psyche: the desire of disenfranchised people to feel righteous precisely by demonizing others. As a kid, I bought this too. The sheer sadism of it went right over my head until I shared these books with my children and saw how I’d been punked. And The Witches was the worst.

The Witches is about a boy who is orphaned in the opening chapter—pity points are always crucial for Dahl—and then adopted by his loving Grandmamma, a kindly old lady who fills him in on a little-known scourge. Witches, she explains, are real. They are demons disguised as women, and their sole purpose is to entrap and destroy innocent children through their diabolical magic. One unfortunate boy, for example, went off with a witch and returned unharmed—but later hardened into a stone statue. After vanishing with a witch, a girl reappeared only in a landscape painting in her family’s home, changing positions whenever the family wasn’t watching and even aging as years passed. (That one haunted me for decades.) Other children are “disappeared” in ways worthy of an Argentine junta. Kids better watch out.

One summer on a beach vacation with Grandmamma, our hero wanders into a hotel conference room occupied by a group calling itself the “Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children.” In fact, it is a coven of witches discussing their latest plan, a potion designed to turn children into mice. They discover the boy and immediately mouse-ify him, but now that our talking mouse hero knows where they keep their potions, he and Grandmamma hatch a clever plot to administer them to the witches themselves. Hijinks ensue, evil is vanquished, and although the narrator remains a mouse, he doesn’t mind. He and Grandmamma embark on a crusade to take out the witches of the world, and he never has to go to school again.

The book chimed perfectly with the stories of “stranger danger” that other 1980s children and I were constantly fed in state-mandated school curricula, but it made that threat delightfully preposterous—and manageable since all one had to do was believe that certain adults were actually demons with recognizable tells. It was a highly rewarding fantasy. After all, it was clear to me, as it was to every young reader, that even adults who didn’t molest children in shopping malls were nonetheless conspiring against us, making us do dehumanizing tasks like making beds and taking tests. The book was empowering. With its frisson of secret knowledge, it made us feel righteous and invincible. Unfortunately, revisiting it as an adult revealed that the book was cribbed from the Protocols of the Elders of Zion—and helped me understand, for perhaps the first time, antisemitism’s seductive appeal.

“Witches,” Grandmamma explains, “are not actually women at all . . . They are demons in human shape.” How do you spot one? Well, since they’re demons, they have toeless hooves instead of feet and claws instead of fingers, disguised by fashionable shoes and gloves. You can’t spot those, but you can spot their “larger nose-holes than ordinary people” (the better to smell you with, my dear). But the real tell, of course, is that witches are bald—which is why a witch always wears “a first-class wig,” which she puts “straight on her naked scalp.”

As I read this aloud to my enthralled son, it was hard to miss how much these witches resembled women in, say, Stamford Hill (the London version of Borough Park). It was also hard to miss how much they resembled caricatures from Der Stürmer or a medieval blood libel. Was I overinterpreting?

You be the judge: “Wherever you find people, you find witches,” Grandmamma tells her innocent grandchild. “There is a Secret Society of Witches in every country. . . . An English witch, for example, will know all the other witches in England.” If this was too subtle, Grandmamma clarifies: “Once a year, the witches of each separate country hold their own secret meeting. They all get together in one place to receive a lecture from The Grand High Witch of All the World.” The boy’s question about this fun fact is, at this point, predictable: “Is she rich?”

Grandmamma replies, “She’s rolling. Simply rolling in money. Rumour has it that there is a machine in her headquarters which is exactly like the machine the government uses to print the bank-notes you and I use.” The boy then asks, as any normal child would, “What about foreign money?” You already know the answer: “Those machines can make Chinese money if you want them to.” Here, the boy turns skeptical: “If nobody has ever seen the Grand High Witch, how can you be so sure she exists?” Grandmamma counters, “Nobody has seen the Devil, but we know he exists.” All of this isn’t merely true, we are told, but “the gospel truth” (the italics are Dahl’s). After all, Grandmamma “went to church every morning of the week and she said grace before every meal, and somebody who did that would never tell lies.” As Grandmamma warns her dear boy, “All you can do is cross your heart and pray to heaven.”

Alas, crossing his heart and praying to heaven doesn’t protect our hero from his encounter with the Elders of Witchdom, at which point Dahl drops all pretense. The Grand High Witch, we learn, “had a peculiar way of speaking. There was some sort of a foreign accent there, something harsh and guttural, and she seemed to have trouble pronouncing the letter w. As well as that, she did something funny with the letter r. She would roll it round and round her mouth.” The Grand High Witch, in her Yiddish accent, explains to her secret society how they will lure England’s children by buying high-end sweet shops and poisoning the candy, since “Money is not a prrroblem to us vitches as you know very well. I have brrrought with me six trrrunks stuffed full of Inklish bank-notes, all new and crrrisp” (italics mine).

Few children can resist the lure of witches. My son loved the book so much that he wanted to see the movie. Perhaps you are wondering: is the 2020 Hollywood version, whose creators unsurprisingly included plenty of Jews, antisemitic? The short answer is no, or not exactly, but that’s also the wrong question.

Adapting from a source this hideous was never going to be easy or entirely uncontroversial, and the new film has already been slammed for portraying limb differences as evil (instead of the claws mentioned in the book, the film’s witches are depicted with missing fingers). Despite that tone-deaf choice, it’s clear that the filmmakers were aware of the book’s larger problems. To their credit, they knew they had to fix something, and they went big: instead of contemporary England, Roald Dahl’s The Witches takes place in 1968 Alabama, and the protagonist and his grandmother are Black (Octavia Spencer’s Grandmamma is even a voodoo healer). Unlike the 1990 movie, the witches no longer have big noses and are, in fact, racially diverse. At first, this does seem poised to dilute some of the book’s inherent awfulness: when a Black witch attacked the protagonist in an early scene, I had high hopes for a story where “evil” was depicted solely through Marvel Universe methods of pancake makeup and special effects. But that scene proved to be half-hearted tokenism, since the rest of the film focuses almost entirely on, to use the current term, white-presenting witches—and most tellingly, what really distinguishes witches in this film is that they are rich. As we watch a flashback of the lily-white and fabulously dressed Anne Hathaway as the Grand High Witch attacking an impoverished Black child in a 1920s Alabama shantytown, Grandmamma tells us that “witches always prey on the poor.”

This class warfare idea is utterly absent from Dahl’s book, but it perhaps unintentionally provides a trendy update to his rather old-school racial antisemitism: the idea that a secret society of fantastically wealthy “global elites”—often, but not inevitably, Jews—prey on the poor. This means that bigotry against them, rather than being retrograde, is, in fact, a fresh and righteous way of “punching up.” Instead of just protecting innocent children, this new Grandmamma now also shares her truth to defend the downtrodden, like every righteous nutjob tweeting about the Rothschilds or George Soros. In the book, nothing much happens with the Grand High Witch’s counterfeit cash. But here Grandmamma commandeers it at the film’s triumphant end and hands out hundred-dollar bills to the hotel’s exploited Black employees.

If this sounds tedious, it is. Roald Dahl’s The Witches is wretched less because of the book’s wretched premise than because it is a conventionally lousy children’s movie, full of Hollywood pieties (in the climactic scene, Grandmamma actually lectures the Grand High Witch about the Power of Love), canned stereotypes and recycled animation. That doesn’t mean kids won’t love it, of course. As Hollywood knows well, everyone loves a good conspiracy theory—and that’s the problem.

My kids laughed their way through the movie’s animated mice and cookie-cutter triumphs, enjoying everything that conventional children’s stories do best—reinforce their audience’s expectations, vanquish villains, and make powerless people feel superior. Conspiracy theories make for great stories, but in an era when a nontrivial proportion of the American electorate apparently believes in the QAnon conspiracy theory that a secret cabal of satanic pedophiles preys on American children and the country, I couldn’t help feeling that this film was, at the very least, ill-timed.

It is so easy, after all, to believe in a conspiracy, so self-indulgent, so appealing—and, as I now finally understood, so much fun. Watching this mediocre and unremarkable movie left me shockingly ill at ease, precisely because it was so mediocre and unremarkable. My discomfort was compounded by the knowledge that the eight-year-old me would have loved it too, not knowing any better. Few children do. In the elaborate, magical long game of luring innocents into handing over their hearts, it turns out that the Grand High Witch was actually Roald Dahl.