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sweatpeeee · 4 years

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Love potion AU

Part 1

Peter Parker x Reader

Words: 2k

Summary: Peter Parker, infatuated with an uninterested MJ, creates a liquid potion to have her fall in love with him, but what if the wrong person drinks it???

Warnings: lowkey angst, Peter is a desperate fool, Ned is a supportive friend and MJ is an absolute queen.

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“Hey Pete-” You blush, books clutched between your arms.

“Hey.” You notice Peter glancing behind you constantly, barely acknowledging your greeting. A forced thin tight smile replaces your shy smile, but soon recovers when you see Ned beside you, you give him a grin, readjusting your backpack strap,

“Hey Ned, new hat?” You chuckle lightly at the boy with a red fedora sitting on top of his hair.

“Why Hello, m’Lady, and yes- I do have a new hat in the collection.” He beamed, you laugh at his response,

“Well it looks great on you-”

“Hey, have you guys seen MJ? I haven’t seen her enter the school yet-” Peter interrupted your conversation with Ned, His eyes scanning the hallways and the entrance doors.

“Peter, give it a rest- MJ made it quite obvious that she’s not interested in a relationship right now-” Ned seemed tired of constantly lecturing his friend about his crush on the girl, but that didn’t seem to stop him from ogling her from afar.

“Yeah- I know Ned, but maybe I can convince her to-” Ned was quick to shut that down,

“Absolutely not- Peter, do you realize how insane that sounds?!” It sounded like Ned was about to patronize the boy some more before you decided you heard enough and walk away, sad and in a way- feeling a bit rejected. Although you did nothing that would cause you to become rejected, you felt like Peter rejected your presence in general. It’s not anything new, it’s not like it’s the first time either. You fell for Peter when you first met him, the boy was an absolute sweetheart, you had no idea why every girl wasn’t head over heels like you were. The kindest and most genuine smile you’ve ever seen resting upon his face with adoring puppy brown eyes. With a heavy heart you went to your first period class 10 minutes early.

Ned finished his lesson with his friend, Peter grumbling under his breath- Ned spun around in your direction just to find that you weren't there, even glancing around hoping you haven’t left… again. Again and again, every day- you always left early and Ned noticed, he also noticed when Peter didn’t. Dejected, Ned sighs loudly before glaring at his best friend,

“Well, are you happy?” He huffs

Peter cocks his head to the side, brows furrow, clearly puzzled, “About…?”

Ned was getting frustrated, “Oh, you know- the fact that you’ve technically been a horrible friend and blatantly ignored Y/n’s existence.”

“Y/n was here?” Ned reached over and slapped the back of Peter’s head.

“Ow! What the hell Ned!” Peter rubbed the back of his head realising a groan.

“You deserve that, and more-” Ned then turned on his heels and walked to his first period as soon as the bell rang, a slightly disoriented Peter ran after him, his curls bouncing along with his small jog,

“What? Why? Ned!... Wait- god, Ned! What does that mean?!”

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*y/n*

“God, I don’t even know what to do anymore! It’s like- It’s like I don’t even exist! Not even as friends! He couldn’t even look me in the eyes! I’m not that ugly… am I? Maybe-” You lay on your bed with your legs up against the wall while a bit of your head peeks off the side.

“Alright let me stop you right there.” Michelle interjected, looking up from her book and placing her book mark before shutting it closed, “You are not ugly- don’t ever second guess that, plus the fact that you question your value because of some boy is just plain stupid, I mean like, women have been subjected to a society where our beauty and our worth is determined by men, and that’s honestly disgusting, like who the hell do they think they are-”

“MJ~” you grumble, plopping a pillow on your face.

“Right right, my bad- point is, you’re a bad bitch- and no boy should make you feel like you’re less, I mean this is Peter we’re talking about right?” MJ reaches and nudges the pillow away from your grasp, hitting the ground with a soft thud, you nod in agreement,

“That’s the thing MJ, like I understand I’m not supposed to let a boy make me feel less but when I look at him, it’s like the whole room lights up,” your hands flailing above you, occasionally tangling your fingers through your h/c hair, “and he has the most beaming smile and it just melts my heart, and I just can't keep that ‘I don’t give a fuck what you say’ attitude with him.” A smile creeps on your face a tthe thought of the adorable boy with the brown locks and puppy dog eyes, “I just wanna tell him that he’s the sweetest and he makes my knees go weak and my heart swoons and wants to jump out of my chest at the sight of his beautiful fucking face.” you finish with a sigh, as if you’d been holding that in all day, and you kind of were.

“First of all, give me a second to hold back the urge to projectile vomit all over your room-”

You let out a chuckle as you cover your face with your hands, your ears burning in embarrassment, “MJ, stoooop” Your hand’s muffling your words

“No seriously, that was the cheesiest thing I've ever heard in my life- did you rehearse that?” She laughs. You don’t reply to her question.

“Y/n, tell me you don’t rehearse that in the mirror-” She gasps with a smile

“I mean sometimes-” Before you can finish, Michelle is bursting with laughter, your laugh shortly joins along.

You adored these moments with your best friend, and you appreciated how forward and comfortable she got with you after a bit in your friendship, you guys were such great friends, anyone could see it. Not a lot of people saw this side of Michelle, the funny, goofy, and loving person you know now. You could understand why Peter fell in love with her, I mean not only does she have a great personality, but she is absolutely stunning as well without even trying, wearing no makeup and a simple jogger and t-shirt and she could be on the cover of Vogue.

Michelle’s laughter died down, wiping her tears that were at the edge of her eyes, coughing a bit from the force her lungs gave out, “god, who is this girl Peter is so ‘In Love’ with, as you put it, anyways?”

Your laughter died down, clearing your throat a bit, you sat up, your legs crossed beneath you, “um, well- it’s kinda hard to explain-” your eyes drop to your fingers that tug on your cuticles, a habit you had if you were nervous or anxious, Michelle notices, “Stop picking at your fingers, you know that they’ll bleed,” you jerk your fingers away and instead start playing with the loose strings from your socks, “and what's complicated about Peters crush?” her eyes squint as if she’s trying to get into your head.

“Well, i-it’s not that it’s complicated- it’s just, i dunno… I- “ your eyes are on your shirt, your teeth nibbling on your lower lip.

“Y/n, would you quit stalling and just tell me?” MJ stands up and sits on the bed, shifting to lay her head on your lap, you softly chuckle at her antics and lightly slap her forehead, “God bless that forehead” you giggle as Michelle groans.

“So?” her finger reaches up and boops your nose. Dejected you sigh.

Might as well tell the truth, lying will just get me into more shit anyways. Besides, MJ’s my best friend, she deserves the truth.

“Liz.” god, you felt like a dumbass.

“Liz?” MJ cringes

Alright, now’s your chance to come clean-

“Yup! I know right.” Your voice definitely went up a couple octaves, your palms instantly clamming up.

“Huh, I guess that makes sense-” She shrugs

“Y-yeah, I definitely think so too... “

Makes sense?? What is that supposed to mean??

“No you don’t, listen- don’t stress about it. Liz has nothing on you, “ MJ smirks up at you, sitting up and placing her hands on her shoulders making you face her, “ You are stunning y/n, like genuinely- I’m not saying this because you’re my best friend- because you know that i’m brutally honest 24/7, i’m saying this because it’s true.” Your ears burn pink and you cast your gaze to the side, “Hey, look at me- I mean it. You are so beautiful, no matter what- all those imperfections? All those flaws? They are beautiful and they are real. They prove that you aren’t a fake ass bitch who replaced everything with plastic surgery, it means that you have flaws and that you love your own flaws. Ok? And if Peter can’t see your beauty while accepting your imperfections, then he's absolutely not worth your time.” Hearing MJ talk so highly of you made your eyes brim with tears, MJ smiles in adoration.

You let out a choked up laugh “Thanks MJ” you sniffle

“Of course, y/n. And remember what I said about boys?”

“Boys aint shit” You burst into giggles

“That’s right queen, and don’t you forget it-” She stands up and holds your hands in hers, dragging you to your feet, “Now let’s go get pizza or something- I’m starving.” she begins pulling you towards the door, You laugh once again and follow her out.

*Peter*

“It’s honestly incredible how he just suddenly comes back to life, I mean what a plot twist-” Ned was ranting about the End of Skywalker, Peter couldn’t bring himself to care honestly so focused on finding a way to make the girl of his dreams fall for him. Was he looking it up? Yes. Every wikipedia article, witchy craft site, fuckboy sites, everything.

“Peter, are you even listening to me?” Ned sighs and puts on the spiderman mask.

“Sounds fantastic, ned.” a mumble leaves Peters lips as his fingers mindlessly tap at the keyboard for more results to his search.

“See, that response right there doesn’t make sense. I mean I asked a yes or no question and you replied with ‘fantastic’-”

“Woah. no way” Peter once again mindlessly interrupted his friend.

“Oh for the love of god, Peter! Give it a rest bro! This is deadass everyday, like all you talk about is having her fall for you! Besides all those sites won't help, to make MJ fall for you would take some magical miracle!” Ned burst, feeling lightheaded.

Finally Peter stops his rapid typing and spins to look at Ned, eye’s wide and his jaw to the floor, “Ned! You absolute genius!” Peter shoots up from his seat, grasping his coat and wallet as well as his house keys.

“I’m- what is going on-” Ned removes the mask, confusion written all over his face.

“Magic, Ned! Magic! I’ll be right back, dude- Bye!” and with that Peter left in search of a magical wizard.

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“No absolutely not.” Dr. Strange muttered as he read his book, probably a spiritual thing.

“Oh come on, Mr. Strange-” Peter pleaded, nearly pouting.

“It’s Doctor Strange, and my answer is still no.” Dr. Strange stood up, his eyes glued to the book as he swirled his hands in a graceful motion to create a small table with more books and a glass of tea of which Dr. Strange takes a sip of before walking around some more. Peter right on his heels.

“Look, all I’m asking is to have a small enchanting spell of some kind, or even a potion-”

Finally Dr.Strange finally looks up from his book and turns towards the young spiderboy, “Peter, you do realize that you are asking me to enchant a human-”

“Of course I know-”

“No you don’t, you are tampering with the emotions of a human being. This could cause some real trauma to the one being enchanted. Are you aware of that?” Strange seemed to become frustrated with Peter’s persistence.

“Well… I am now-” Peter’s gaze fell at his feet, fidgeting with his fingers, a habit he had when he was nervous, “Listen- I understand if you don’t want to help me, but all I want is some time. Just.. I dunno, a week- to prove that I can be the perfect boyfriend for her. I just want time to show her, and when the time runs out, if she’s still not interested, then I won’t insist. Please.” Peter’s soft brown eyes gazed up at the wizard, his pout showing itself.

“Oh no… not the pout.” Dr.Strange groans, he rubs his eyes in frustration, inhaling deeply before muttering, “One week. No more than one week.”

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And that concludes part one of my Love Potion AU series! thanks so much for reading- and i’m so sorry it took so long, like I said, I’m a HUGE procrastinator. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or have any suggestions on how to improve my writing! Thanks Again and I hope you enjoy!

@puremusicbeat-blog @halparkebitch @missmulti @everyoneyoulovedies @le-yona @universeoffandoms1 @writeroutoftime @bluelida

Ok just an FYI I tagged people who asked to be tagged AND people who voted on it, if you don’t want to be tagged, message me and I will remove you from the list!

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evening-starlight · 3 years

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Chances {Chapter Ten}

I think this is my longest Chapter so far lmao

Master List

Tainted

Word Count: 1867

I'll be honest with you guys, our first kiss is tainted. This chapter will explain it. I will also mention that this might be hard for some readers to read, so reader discretion is advised.

I pray for the world to open and swallow me whole right then and there. Of course, he would show up. He has to insert himself into every wonderful thing in my life. He has to plaster his face in every corner of my mind. Tom looks over my head at the man I used to be married to. This is not how I wanted to tell Tom about who it was. I slip my hands out of Tom's and turn around to Jared.

He smiles wickedly like I've fallen into his trap. The smile sends waves of nausea and anxiety coursing through every vein in my body. "What do you want, Jared?" He hands me a bouquet of flowers. Purple and green daisies. I cross my arms to avoid taking them. "I was thinking of you, so I bought you some flowers." Jared's attention shifts his attention to Tom behind me. "Thank you for dropping my wife off. I really appreciate it." Oh, absolutely the fuck not.

"Jared," I snap, pushing him away from Tom so we can speak semi-privately. "Why in God's name are you here? I am not your fucking wife. I don't want your damn flowers, which you never bought me when we were together anyways. I don't want you near me." My voice rising with the anger I feel boiling inside me. "You are nothing but a horrible stain on my history that I wish I could erase. You have ruined my life from the moment you walked in with that stupid book. You are the most possessive prick I have met in my life, and I regret every minute I spent with you." Jared continues to smile down at me. He has me right where he wanted me, yelling and spewing venom.

"I just wanted to show Tom what kind of girl you really are," He says, looking at Tom behind me. "A venomous bitch." My jaw drops to the floor when I realize I walked right into his trap. He pushes the flowers into my chest and grabs my face roughly in his hands. The kiss is forceful and possessive. I feel the bile rising in my throat the longer he keeps his lips pressed to mine.

Jared finally pulls away, wiping his lips. "I'll see you later, Jules." He walks off like nothing volatile just happened. I have approximately five seconds before I spew popcorn all over the steps. I drop the flowers on the ground and rush to the door, slamming my keys against the sensor pad and hoping it works. The door clicks like a heavenly sign. The gold trash can next to Will's desk is the closest and safest spot for the vomit.

"Holy shit, Stella. Are you okay?" Will asks, standing up from his desk as I empty my guts into his freshly cleaned bin after falling to my knees. Someone rests their hand on my back before pulling my hair out of my face. I wave them off.

"Fuck off, Jared." I manage between heaves.

"It's not Jared." Tom answers. "I want to make sure you're okay, and then I'll leave if you'd prefer." I have no energy to fight as I continue to dry heave, nothing but saliva and air coming out. Will hands me a handful of tissues as I sit back on my heels. I manage a small smile in return as I wipe my mouth.

"Sorry, Will." I apologize.

"Don't be. I'd rather it the trashcan than across the floor," Will jokes back. "Let me get you a water from the back." I look at Tom when Will leaves.

"I'm sorry. Theater popcorn doesn't taste good coming back up." He shakes his head with a small laugh.

"Don't apologize, Love. He seems like a cock." I chuckle with a nod. "I'm not going to force you to talk about it now, but I would like to understand more about that relationship." I nod. It's a fair request.

"If you grab those stupid flowers for me, we can head up to my apartment and talk. If you want," I suggest. Tom gets up to grab the flowers as Will comes back with a cold water bottle. I trade Tom the bottle for the flowers, pushing them bud first into the bin I just hurled in. I give Will another apology and tell him I'll get him his favorite bistro next time I'm at the studio.

Tom follows me back to the elevator silently. I have no idea what to say to him, especially after something like that. What are you supposed to say when you kiss the guy of your dreams, and your abusive ex comes by and forces one on you? Sorry I have a fucked up past I've been conveniently avoiding? I unlock my apartment door and walk in first. "You can sit anywhere. I have to go bleach my mouth." I mumble, making my way to the bathroom.

I avoid looking at myself as I gargle mouthwash, turning my back to the mirror. I can't believe I let that happen. I should have done something other than stand there like a statue. Why couldn't I do anything other than stand there and let Jared do that? Tom must think I'm a whore.

The mouthwash is traded out for my toothbrush and toothpaste as I continue replaying what the hell just happened. Jared showing up out of nowhere with flowers after years of saying they're meaningless because they'll just die. And of course, they were purple and green; self-centered prick was probably thinking of himself as he bought the Joker colors. I meet my own eyes in the mirror as I stand straight after spitting the toothpaste out. I have mascara tear streaks running down my cheeks. I've paled considerably enough to enhance the dark circles under my eyes. I look terminally ill.

I fix my makeup steaks quickly before walking out to the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink?" I ask Tom. "I have beer, Capri Sun, and water, but you'll have to drink out of a shot glass because the two cups I have are dirty." Tom opts for a CapriSun. I hand it to him as I sit on the opposite end of my couch. We sit in silence for a few minutes while I think of how to start talking and how much I want to tell him.

"Your apartment is quite nice," Tom starts, looking around at all the frames I have of the band and I. "Do you play all those?" He asks, gesturing to my elevated music area by my balcony door. On it is a bass guitar, acoustic and electric guitar, along with a keyboard and violin.

"Yeah, when my parents heard I wanted to make music because Jared was, they paid for multiple lessons. I fell in love with singing, but I can definitely shred it on bass." I joke. Tom laughs with a slight nod.

"How old were you when you met Jared again?" Tom asks in such a casual tone it calms me down slightly. Maybe he's just worried about me. Or maybe he just wants to know where Jared went wrong so he won't make the same mistakes, good or bad.

"I was introduced to him at fourteen." I avoid Tom's sudden worried look by looking at the floor beneath my sneakers. I should get a carpet in here. "My parents wanted to be millionaires, so they moved us all to LA when I was, like, three, I think. I don't know how they met Jared's family. They never told me, and neither did Jared.

"Everything was really innocent at first. He was my closest friend for years. He helped me with homework and practicing my music. I wanted to be just like him." I let out a bitter laugh. "I was sixteen when I realized I like him as more than a friend. We had to share a bed in a hotel on tour, and I remember not sleeping because he was right there, and he was cuddling me. He asked me out the day of my eighteenth and proposed two months later, married two more after that. We got divorced when I was twenty when I realized how much I really did miss out on life, and he was so possessive he stopped letting me go to band practice without him.

"The band started pointing it out too. Robbie was the one who literally slapped sense into me. Because why would I hit Robbie back and tell him off, but not Jared? So, yeah. Jared's super possessive and still is." I finish quickly, realizing I was going on a tangent.

"And he called you Jules?" I almost wished Tom would have forgotten about that. I know it's somewhere on my Wikipedia page, but would Tom have gone that far in learning about me?

"I've had three legal names in my life," I say, finally bringing myself to look at Tom. He seems concerned, and his eyes are so soft and welcoming I could curl up into his chest right this second. "Juliet Davis is my birth name, and I took Jared's last name when we got married. Then, about a year after our divorce, I decided to rebrand myself and use a new name entirely. Don't ask me why I chose Thompson; I googled it when I was drunk, and it just stuck. Stella is from this one kids' book I was obsessed with for years, Stellaluna. I don't know why, but I carried it everywhere with me until about junior high."

I guess I didn't notice the tears falling or that my voice was faltering. However, Tom did. Without hesitation, he pulls me into his arms, resting his head on mine. "I'm so sorry you had to go through all that, Love," He says in a soft voice. "You didn't deserve any of that. Thank you for sharing with me." I let him hold me for a while longer. I enjoy his touch, but I really just want to be alone to cry and break shit.

I don't know when I fell asleep; I just know when I woke up on the couch with a blanket on top of me and water on the coffee table in front of me, that Tom had taken care of me. He left a handwritten note as well, which I still have in my house. It said, 'I didn't want to leave you alone after something like tonight, but I felt it weird to stay the night uninvited. I truly appreciate you sharing something hard with me. I hope it's alright I washed a cup for you, and found some medicine as well, in case the crying caused a headache. Text me when you wake up. Much love, Tom.' Yes, I did run through the house like a crazy lady trying to find the letter so I could write it down verbatim.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #i got 99 problems and tom hiddleston could fix everyone of them #jared leto #Jared Leto imagine #jared leto fanfic #jared leto fanfiction #love #romance #fanfic #fanfiction #fiction #Original content #Oriiginal character #og #oc #Chances

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mst3kproject · 4 years

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Light Blast

What’s this? A death ray movie in which we actually see stuff get death rayed? Aw, man, that might disqualify it for MST3K right there! Fortunately for us, however, Light Blast was directed by Enzo Castellari, who brought us Escape 2000, and it stars Erik Estrada. Estrada was never on MST3K but he was on pretty much all the 70’s cop shows they kept referencing, including Mannix and Police Woman, and Mike and the bots would never have let him forget it.

So what do we want out of a death ray movie? I dunno, some faces melting like the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark would be cool, and Light Blast apparently read my mind on that count because we get the first melting face action before the ten minute mark! A couple of young people go to have sex in a boxcar (this scene includes a real classy upskirt shot, just three minutes in) while the bad guy tests his death ray, and in the fine tradition of kids just trying to bone at the beginning of movies, they get zapped. Meanwhile, somewhere else, Erik Estrada in a speedo takes down a couple of bank robbers by hiding a gun inside a roast turkey.

This is gonna be a weird movie, isn’t it?

Sadly, Light Blast never again rises to that height of absurdity. Evil Professor Yuri Svoboda has a death ray, and has decided to hold the city of San Francisco hostage for the princely sum of:

Was that even a lot of money in 1985? According to dollartimes the conversion rate is about 2.5, so that would be $12.5 million today... still seems a little low for a major city. Anyway.

To show he means business, Svoboda death rays the announcer’s box at a demolition derby. Thence ensues a series of extremely uninspired car chases and a scene in which Estrada is repeatedly kicked in the avocados by a woman dressed as a nurse (I liked that bit). Eventually he puts the pieces of the puzzle together, and never even bothers to tell us what the finished picture looks like before running off to what looks like it’ll be the final Power Plant Confrontation. No such luck. Svoboda escapes again, and Estrada has to chase him down to the final final confrontation.

There are two things here Castellari seems to really like. One is digital clocks, which are frequently the focus of the death ray for some reason. The other is men staggering around on fire, filmed in the type of loving slow motion that turns this agonizing death into a moment of over-dramatic hilarity. Remember in the Making Of Documentary for Return of the King, when Peter Jackson acknowledges that Denethor falling off the top of Minas Tirith while on fire is ridiculous? Enzo Castellari is definitely not that self-aware.

He is also fond of car chases. There are three or four of them in Light Blast and they’re competent, I guess. They’re definitely better than the budget version you sometimes see in really cheap movies, in which the camera turns to watch one vehicle pass by, then repeats the shot with another. There was probably a storyboard and so forth. But they’re still pretty monotonous and mostly just look like people driving around with no sense of a destination or a narrative. Instead, the movie tries to add interest by giving them ‘gimmicks’.

In one of the chases, Estrada doesn’t want the villain to know he’s being followed, so rather than using his own vehicle, he just hops into random people’s cars and makes them do the following. In one he shows his badge and tells the driver he’s a cop. In another he tells the woman driving that he’s playing a practical joke on a friend from college. Astonishingly, he never gets slapped or shot.

In another, he steals a race car in order to chase down Svoboda, who is fleeing to a boat from which he plans to death ray the entire city or something. This chase includes two separate shots in which Estrada jumps the race car over some obstacle in his way, again filmed in slow motion. In neither was there any sort of ramp to get the car off the ground. It’s like that scene in Speed where the fucking bus somehow jumps over a gap in the highway except they did it twice and slowly to give the audience time to think about how stupid it is. Then Estrada jumps the car again onto Svoboda’s boat, which has already left the dock, and somehow manages to stop on a dime rather than falling into the water.

I recognize that movies are not bound by the laws of physics, but those that get away with breaking them do so by walking a fine line. Things have to look possible. People running away from explosions looks like it should work, and very few of us have ever been in a position to find out what it’s actually like first-hand (partly because those of us who have probably didn’t live to tell about it). The car jumps? Nah.

Wikipedia includes a couple of reviews of this film that have been translated, not very well, from Italian. They’re kind of hard to understand but they do seem to fixate on the preponderance of car chases. They also reference another staple of 80’s action movies, which is excessive police brutality. Estrada shoots a whole bunch of people, breaks into a power plant and a funeral home, steals cars, causes a dozen accidents and untold property damage, and bullies his girlfriend into risking her job in order to get him the information he needs. Our hero, ladies and gentlemen.

Other clichés drift by. The villain gives a pretty classic monologue all about how he Showed Those Fools At The Academy and how his death ray will make him supreme ruler of the world and he’ll bring about a new age of peace. There’s a bit where Estrada and his partner, the Tall Guy (these characters do have names, I just don’t care) sit down at the kitchen table and put together what they’ve learned… but instead of some exposition to tell us, the audience, what that is, we get a Ryan And Shane Look For Forrest Fenn’s Treasure montage but without the irony. We can just barely hear fragments of voices through this, as the characters talk about it… enough to tease us with what they know and we don’t.

I dunno, it’s possible the audience is supposed to have already figured this stuff out and I just wasn’t paying attention. I was pretty bored during most of this movie.

During the montage, the bad guys sneak up outside Estrada’s house (which is on a boat? I think?) and open fire, basically shooting everybody but Estrada himself, who escapes completely unharmed. His personality-deficient girlfriend isn’t so lucky… but she was only in this movie so it would have a part for Estrada’s real-life girlfriend Peggy Rowe. This bit is right up there with The Phantom Creeps as a perfect example of why Women In Fridges is screenwriting for hacks. Estrada is already determined to get these guys. He already cares about the people they’ve killed in the past and the ones they plan to kill in the future! He is already frustrated by his failures to catch them! ‘Making it personal’ is completely unnecessary! Did the writers really think her death would add anything, or were they just trying to fill up their Action Movie Cliché Bingo card?

In the villain’s evil monologue, Svoboda reveals that apparently Estrada killed his wife? I guess she was the mortician? This doesn’t help, because I don’t think Svoboda actually knows that Estrada’s girlfriend is dead and even if he does, she wasn’t his target. His henchmen were after Estrada and Tall Guy.

Then there’s the ending, which is in no way a ‘climax’ and barely even counts as an ‘end’. Remember I said Estrada jumps his racecar onto Svoboda’s boat? This knocks the death ray over and it melts Svoboda himself. Estrada watches this, then basically just shrugs and walks the fuck away. So… that was it? No confrontation? No fight? Just a failure to properly secure the superweapon?

Isn’t the rest of the boat gonna melt now, too? In previous uses the death ray seemed to melt things over a fairly wide area. Isn’t anyone worried about that? No, we’re just rolling the credits? Okay, fine. At least the movie’s over.

Is there anything nice I can say about Light Blast? Well… I guess it passes the Bechdel Test. There’s a bit, completely irrelevant to the plot, where two women who work at the police station discuss perfume. It’s as if one of the writers had read about the Bechdel Test and shoved that in there just to pass it, without bothering to think about what the point of the ‘test’ is.

For all I’ve bitched about it, Light Blast isn’t a full on disaster. It’s merely a mediocre 80’s action movie. What makes it so damn disappointing is the wackiness of that early scene with Estrada in his underwear and the gun in the turkey. That bit has the same effect as naming your movie Hercules Against the Moon Men – it gives the audience the impression that you have a sense of humour, and then the rest of the film can be nothing but the slow downward spiral of realizing that you were, in fact, serious. Even then, it still could have been fun if the writers and director had kept up that kind of cheese throughout but no… Light Blast couldn’t even be bad enough to be good.

If any of you MSTies reading this are aspiring film-makers, let this be the lesson for you: the introduction of your main character sets the tone. Do that wrong, or in a way that doesn’t match the rest of your movie, and you’re sunk. And if you only have one interesting or funny idea, for love of Apearlo put that at the end of the movie, not the beginning!

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #light blast #women in fridges #80s

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twiddlebirdlet · 5 years

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https://www.wired.com/story/chris-evans-starting-point-politics/

Chris Evans Goes to Washington

The actor's new project, A Starting Point, aims to give all Americans the TL;DR on WTF is going on in politics. It's harder than punching Nazis on the big screen.

It’s a languid October afternoon in Los Angeles, sunny and clear.

Chris Evans, back home after a grueling production schedule, relaxes into his couch, feet propped up on the coffee table. Over the past year and a half, the actor has tried on one identity after another: the shaggy-haired Israeli spy, the clean-shaven playboy, and, in his Broadway debut, the Manhattan beat cop with a Burt Reynolds ’stache. Now, though, he just looks like Chris Evans—trim beard, monster biceps, angelic complexion. So it’s a surprise when he brings up the nightmares. “I sleep, like, an hour a night,” he says. “I’m in a panic.”

The panic began, as panics so often do these days, in Washington, DC. Early last February, Evans visited the capital to pitch lawmakers on a new civic engagement project. He arrived just hours before Donald Trump would deliver his second State of the Union address, in which he called on Congress to “bridge old divisions” and “reject the politics of revenge, resistance, and retribution.” (Earlier, at a private luncheon, Trump referred to Chuck Schumer, the Senate’s top Democrat, as a “nasty son of a bitch.”) Evans is no fan of the president, whom he has publicly called a “moron,” a “dunce,” and a “meatball.” But bridging divisions? Putting an end to the American body politic’s clammy night sweats? These were goals he could get behind.

Evans’ pitch went like this: He would build an online platform organized into tidy sections—immigration, health care, education, the economy—each with a series of questions of the kind most Americans can’t succinctly answer themselves. What, exactly, is a tariff? What’s the difference between Medicare and Medicaid? Evans would invite politicians to answer the questions in minute-long videos. He’d conduct the interviews himself, but always from behind the camera. The site would be a place to hear both sides of an issue, to get the TL;DR on WTF was happening in American politics. He called it A Starting Point—a name that sometimes rang with enthusiasm and sometimes sounded like an apology.

Evans doesn’t have much in the way of political capital, but he does have a reputation, perhaps unearned, for patriotism. Since 2011 he has appeared in no fewer than 10 Marvel movies as Captain America, the Nazi-slaying, homeland-defending superhero wrapped in bipartisan red, white, and blue. It’s hard to imagine a better time to cash in on the character’s symbolism. Partisan animosity is at an all-time high; a recent survey by the Public Religion Research Institute and The Atlantic found that 35 percent of Republicans and 45 percent of Democrats would oppose their child marrying someone from the other party. (In 1960, only 4 percent of respondents felt this way.) At the same time, there’s a real crisis of faith in the country’s leaders. According to the Pew Research Center, 81 percent of Americans believe that members of Congress behave unethically at least some of the time. In Pew’s estimation, that makes them even less trusted than journalists and tech CEOs.

If Evans got it right, he believed, this wouldn’t be some small-fry website. He’d be helping “create informed, responsible, and empathetic citizens.” He would “reduce partisanship and promote respectful discourse.” At the very least, he would “get more people involved” in politics. And if the site stank like a rotten tomato? If Evans became a national laughingstock? Well, that’s where the nightmares began.

It took a special serum and a flash broil in a Vita-Ray chamber to transform Steve Rogers, a sickly kid from Brooklyn, into Captain America. For Chris Evans, savior of American democracy, the origin story is rather less Marvelous.

One day a few years ago, around the time he was filming Avengers: Infinity War, Evans was watching the news. The on-air discussion turned to an unfamiliar acronym—it might have been NAFTA, he says, but he thinks it was DACA, or Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals, an Obama-era immigration policy that granted amnesty to people who had been brought into the United States illegally as children. The Trump administration had just announced plans to phase out DACA, leaving more than half a million young immigrants in the lurch. (The Supreme Court will likely rule this year on whether terminating the program was lawful.)

On the other side of the television, Evans squinted. Wait a minute, he thought. What did that acronym stand for again? And was it a good thing or a bad thing? “It was just something I didn’t understand,” he says.

Evans considers himself a politico. Now 38, he grew up in a civic-minded family, the kind that revels in shouting about the news over dinner. His uncle Michael Capuano served 10 terms in Congress as a Democrat from Massachusetts, beginning right around the time Evans graduated from high school and moved to New York to pursue acting. During the 2016 presidential election, Evans campaigned for Hillary Clinton. In 2017 he became an outspoken critic of Trump—even after he was advised to zip it, for risk of alienating moviegoers. Evans could be a truck driver, Capuano says, and he’d still be involved in politics.

But watching TV that day, Evans was totally lost. He Googled the acronym and tripped over all the warring headlines. Then he tried Wikipedia, but, well, the entry was thousands of words long. “It’s this never-ending thing, and you’re just like, who is going to read 12 pages on something?” Evans says. “I just wanted a basic understanding, a basic history, and a basic grasp on what the two parties think.” He decided to build the resource he wanted for himself.

Evans brought the idea to his close friend Mark Kassen, an actor and director he’d met working on the 2011 indie film Puncture. Kassen signed on and recruited a third partner, Joe Kiani, the founder and CEO of a medical technology company called Masimo. The three met for lobster rolls in Boston. What the country needed, they decided, was a kind of Schoolhouse Rock for adults—a simple, memorable way to learn the ins and outs of civic life. Evans suggested working with politicians directly. Kiani, who had made some friends on Capitol Hill over the years, thought they’d go for it. Each partner agreed to put up money to get the thing off the ground. (They wouldn’t say how much.) They spent some time Googling similar outlets and figuring out where they fit in, Kassen says.

They began by establishing a few rules. First, A Starting Point would give politicians free rein to answer questions as they pleased—no editing, no moderation, no interjections. Second, they would hire fact-checkers to make sure they weren’t promoting misinformation. Third, they would design a site that privileged diversity of opinion, where you could watch a dozen different people answering the same question in different ways. Here, though, imbibing the information would feel more like watching YouTube than skimming Wikipedia—more like entertainment than homework.

The trio mocked up a list of questions to bring to Capitol Hill, starting with the ones that most baffled them. (Is the electoral college still necessary?) They talked, admiringly, about the way presidential debate moderators manage to make their language sound neutral. (Should the questions refer to a “climate crisis” or a “climate situation,” “illegal immigrants” or “undocumented immigrants”?) Then Evans recorded a video on his couch in LA. “Hi, I’m Chris Evans,” he began. “If you’re watching this, I hope you’ll consider contributing to my new civics engagement project called A Starting Point.” He emailed the file to every senator and representative in Congress.

Only a few replied.

In hindsight, Evans realizes, the video “looked so cheap” and either got caught in spam filters or was consciously deleted by congressional staffers. “The majority of people, on both sides of the aisle, dismissed it,” Evans says. Many “thought it was a joke.” Yet there are few doors in American life that a square jaw can’t open, particularly when it belongs to a man with many millions of dollars and nearly as many swooning Twitter fans. Soon enough, a handful of politicians had agreed to meet with the group.

On the morning of his first visit to Capitol Hill, as he donned a slick gray windowpane suit and a black polka-dot tie and combed his perfect hair back from his perfect forehead, Evans felt a wave of doubt. “This isn’t my lane,” he recalls thinking as he walked through the maze of the Russell Senate Office Building. Here, people were making real change, affecting the lives of millions of Americans. “And shit,” Evans said to himself, “I didn’t even go to college.”

“This isn’t my lane,” Evans thought as he walked through the maze of the Russell Senate Office Building.

The trio’s first stop was the office of Chris Coons, a Democrat from Delaware. “Which one is the senator?” Evans asked.

Coons, having never watched any of the Avengers movies, didn’t know who Evans was, either. But in short order, he says, he was won over by the actor’s charm and “very slight but still noticeable” Boston accent. The thing that got Coons the most, though—the thing that would lead him to pass out pocket cards on the Senate floor to recruit others, especially Republicans, to take part in the project—was how refreshing it was to be asked simple questions: Why should we support the United Nations? Why does foreign aid matter? Coons saw real value in trying to explain these things, simply and plainly, to his constituents.

“Look, I’m not naive,” Coons says. He is the first to admit that one-minute videos won’t fix what’s wrong with American politics. “But it’s important for there to be attempts at civic education and outreach,” he adds. “And, you know, his fictional character fought for our nation in a time of great difficulty.”

Evans stiffens slightly when people mention Captain America. The superhero comparison is, admittedly, a little obvious. But again and again on Capitol Hill, the shtick proved useful: Sometimes it’s better to be Captain America than a Hollywood liberal elite who defends Roe v. Wade and wants to ban assault weapons. When Evans met Jim Risch, the Republican senator from Idaho joked about catching him up on NATO, “since he missed the 70 years after World War II.” When he met Representative Dan Crenshaw, a hard-line Texas Republican and former Navy SEAL who lost his right eye in Afghanistan, Crenshaw lifted up his eye patch to reveal a glass prosthetic painted to look like Captain America’s shield.

Eventually, Evans loosened up—at least he lost the tie. Since that first round of visits, he and Kassen have returned to Washington every six weeks or so, collecting more than 1,000 videos from more than 100 members of Congress, along with about half of the 2020 Democratic hopefuls. Evans has conducted every interview himself. Kassen, meanwhile, managed the acquisition of a video compression startup in Montreal. About a dozen of the company’s engineers are building a custom content management system for A Starting Point, which is slated to go live in February. They’re running bandwidth tests too—just in case, as Kassen worries, “everyone in Chris’ audience logs on that first day.”

“We have to do this now,” Evans says. “It’s out there. We have to finish this. Shit.”

Back in LA, Evans pulls up the site on his iPhone. He hesitates for a moment and covers the screen with his hand. It’s still a demo, he explains, in the same bashful tone he uses to tell me the guest bathroom is out of toilet paper.

On the homepage, there’s a clip of Evans explaining how to use the site and a carousel of “trending topics” (energy, charter schools, Hong Kong). You can enter your address to call up a list of your representatives and find their videos; you can also contact them directly through the site. The rest is organized by topic and question, with a matrix of one-minute videos for each—Democrats in the left-hand column, Republicans on the right.

Early on in the development of the site, Evans and Kassen fought over fact-checking. Kassen, arguing against, was concerned about the optics: Who were they to arbitrate truth? Evans insisted that A Starting Point would only seem objective if visitors knew the answers had been vetted somehow. Ultimately he prevailed, and they agreed to hire a third-party fact-checker. They have yet to put their thousand-plus videos through the wringer, so for now I’m seeing first drafts. If they’re found to contain falsehoods, Evans says, they won’t appear on the site at all.

Kassen showed me a sampling of some of this raw material. Under “What is DACA?” I found dozens of videos, offering dozens of different starting points.

One representative, a Republican whose district lies near the Mexican border, describes the program’s recipients as “1.2 million men and women who have only known the United States as their home.” They go to school, he explains; they serve in the military; they’ve all passed background checks.

Sometimes it’s better to be Captain America than a Hollywood liberal elite who defends Roe v. Wade and wants to ban assault weapons.

Another Republican representative says, “So, DACA is a result of a really bad immigration system … We’re seeing record numbers of families crossing the border because a kid equals a token for presence in the US. All right? We have all of these people come over, we can’t process them, they’re claiming asylum. I just heard from the secretary of Homeland Security this week, about nine in 10 don’t have valid claims of asylum. Meaning they’re not political—there’s no political persecution going on. OK?”

These two responses (from politicians on the same side of the aisle, no less) illustrate some of the quandaries that Evans, Kassen, and their fact-checkers are likely to encounter. The first representative, for instance, says there are 1.2 million DACA recipients, when in fact only 660,000 immigrants are currently enrolled in the program. The higher number is based on an estimate of those who could be eligible published by the Migration Policy Institute, a Washington think tank. The “nine in 10” statistic, meanwhile, is a loose interpretation of data from 2018, which shows that only about 16 percent of immigrants who filed a “credible fear” claim were granted asylum. But this does not mean, as the representative implies, that the other claims weren’t “valid”—merely that they weren’t successful. Nearly half of all asylum claims from this time were dismissed for undisclosed reasons. These are fairly hair-splitting examples, but even the basic, definitional questions are drenched in opinion. What is Citizens United? “Horrible decision,” says a Democratic senator in his video response.

Evans doesn’t want to spend time refereeing politicians. To him, A Starting Point should act more like a database than a platform—rhetoric that rhymes with that of Facebook and Twitter, which have mostly sidestepped responsibility for their content. He’s just hosting the videos, he says; it’s up to politicians to decide how they answer the questions. There’s no comment section and no algorithmically generated list of recommended videos. “You need to decide what you need to watch next,” Kassen says.

One of the assumptions underlying Evans’ project—and it’s a very big assumption—is that the force of his fame will be enough to attract people who otherwise would have zero interest in watching a carousel of videos from their elected officials. This, by all accounts, is most people: Only a third of Americans can name their representatives in Congress, and those who can aren’t binge-watching C-Span. “Celebrities bring an extraordinary ability to get attention,” says Lauren Wright, a political researcher at Princeton and author of Star Power: American Democracy in the Age of the Celebrity Candidate. But Evans, she says, is “not taking the route that a lot of celebrities have, which is: The solution to American politics is me.” It would be one thing if Evans were guiding you through the inner workings of Congress like a chiseled Virgil. But why would someone watch a senator dryly explain NAFTA when they could watch, say, a YouTube video of Chris Evans on Jimmy Kimmel?

Without its leading man in the frame, A Starting Point begins to look uncomfortably similar to the many other platforms that have sought to fight partisanship online. A site called AllSides labels news sources as left, center, or right and encourages readers to create a balanced media diet with a little from each. A browser plug-in called Read Across the Aisle (“A Fitbit for your filter bubble”) measures the amount of time you spend on left-leaning, right-leaning, or centrist websites. The Flip Side bills itself as a “one-stop shop for smart, concise summaries of political analysis from both conservative and liberal media.”

The underlying idea—that there would be a new birth of civic engagement if only we could wrest control of the information economy from the hands of self-serving ideologues and deliver the news to citizens unbiased and uncut—is an old one. In 1993, when the modern internet was just a gleam in Al Gore’s eye, Michael Crichton wrote in this magazine’s pages that he was sick and tired of the “polarized, junk-food journalism” propagated by traditional media outlets. (This was three years before Fox News and MSNBC came into being; he was talking about The New York Times.) What society needed, he argued, was something more like C-Span, something that encouraged people to draw their own conclusions.

But does any of it work? Not according to Wright. “We have many years of research on these questions, and the consensus among scholars is that the proliferation of media choices—including sites like Evans’—has not increased political knowledge or participation,” she says. “The problem isn’t the lack of information. It’s the lack of interest.” Jonathan Albright, director of the Digital Forensics Initiative at Columbia’s Tow Center for Digital Journalism, agrees. “All of these fact-checking initiatives, all of this work that goes into trying to disambiguate issues or trying to reduce noise—people have no time,” he says. “Some people care about politics, but those are not the people you need to reach.”

Naturally, this sort of talk makes Evans a little nervous. But he takes refuge in what he sees as the core strengths of the concept. For one thing, he argues, snack-size videos are more accessible than text. Also, those other sites rely on a translator to interpret the issues, while A Starting Point goes straight to the source. It’s not for policy wonks. It’s for average Americans, centrists, extremists, swing voters—everyone!—who want to hear about policy straight from the horse’s mouth. (Never mind that most people hold horses in higher regard.)

Evans has all kinds of ideas for how to keep people coming back. He might add a section of the website where representatives can upload weekly videos for their constituents, or a place where policymakers from different parties can discuss bipartisan compromise. He talks about these ideas with an enthusiasm so pure and so believable that you almost forget he’s an actor. The whole point, he says, is giving Americans a cheap seat on the kinds of conversations that are happening on Capitol Hill. That’s a show that Evans is betting people actually want to see.

The worst thing that could happen isn’t that nobody watches the videos. That would suck, but Evans could deal with it. What gets him riled up most is thinking about what he might have failed to consider. What if the site ends up promoting some bizarre agenda that he never intended? What if people use the videos for some kind of twisted purpose? “One miscalculation,” he says, “and you may not get back on track.” (See: Facebook.)

Evans knows his idea to save democracy can come off a little Pollyannaish, and if it flops, it’ll be his reputation on the line. But he really, really believes in it. OK, so maybe it won’t save America, but it might piece together some of what’s been broken. A fresh start. A starting point.

“This does feel to me like everybody wins here. I don’t see how this becomes a problem,” he says, before a look of panic crosses his face, the anxiety setting in again.

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dcmidivine · 4 years

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play dead || devin

Terence was nowhere in sight, Eli was speared like a kebab, and Gene’s unconscious body was being taunted by floating grain. That left Devin, alone, facing off against an angry snake lady and her pet dog from hell. What a surprise! Not.

Alone was an exaggeration, but not by much. Eli turned away from her when he screeched, saving Devin from the same embarrassing fate as Gene, but her ears were still ringing as she helped him sit down. His lips were moving but the sound didn’t reach her and when she tried to tell him that, he shook his head and pointed to his own ear, the one he could usually hear out of. Quickly, she signed stay here and turned her back to him before she could see his protests, scooping her field hockey stick back up from where it had hit the dust when Eli was stabbed. The best (and worst) part of learning sign language for her boyfriend was how easy it made ignoring what the other was saying.

“Play dead,” Devin muttered to herself when she saw the hellhound had been knocked out by the screech alongside Gene. God, that would have been such a cool line to say before it went unconscious. Devin put two fingers to her mouth to whistle, the sound barely audible through the echo in her ears, and pointed to the hellhound’s sleeping form as her dog released his jaw from around one of the dracaena’s arms and bounded back towards her. “Kill,” she ordered. Her voice sounded like it was seeping through ten layers of bubble wrap.

Koa whimpered and tilted his head to the side.

Devin sighed, unsure if the confusion was because she had never trained her dog to murder before or because he was still recovering his hearing. She tucked her field hockey stick under one arm. “Ugh. Fine.” Attack, she signed to Koa and pointed to the hellhound’s body. She repeated the sign as her dog’s ears pricked up, eyes following the movements of her hands. Attack.

Koa padded off towards the larger canine. Devin gripped her makeshift weapon and focused on the dracaena.

Between Koa’s attacks and Eli’s vocal assault, the monster’s attempt to stalk towards Devin ended up more of a weird, slimy stagger. The snake lady (or snady, her brain helpfully supplied) had a steady stream of blood running down her serpentine legs from a deep bite in her hip. Devin snorted. “It looks like you’re pissing blood,” she called out to the dracaena, lifting her field hockey stick. She had less than zero clue if the monster could hear her but it felt good to say. This snake bitch (or snitch) had shanked her boyfriend. “You should get that checked out!”

Even if the dracaena’s ears were still recovering, it was obvious that Devin was taunting her. The monster growled, and Devin bared her teeth in a frenzied grin. This was exhilarating. Bone-shakingly terrifying, no doubt, but thrilling nonetheless. If Gene woke up, Eli stopped bleeding out and Devin didn’t get her ass handed to her by a Greek myth, she was going to have the time of her life editing the dracanae Wikipedia page.

The dracaena was three metres away, two metres away, one metre– that’s snake busting range, baby. Devin grit her teeth and spun, swinging her stick in a tight arc towards the monster’s head.

Afterwards, coated head to toe in monster dust and dripping in sweat, Devin could not tell how long the fight had lasted. She felt like a barbarian in D&D entering a rage– her memory was a blur of anger, energy, and hit, smash, stab. Stab? Gene’s sword was in her hand, but she didn’t remember picking it up. Her arms felt like cooked spaghetti. She dropped the sword. A second later, she joined it on the ground, exhaustion only now seeping into her limbs as the adrenaline faded.

Terence had returned and was pouring something down Eli’s throat. The liquid must work like a healing potion, as Eli began to stir back to consciousness. Devin turned her head.

The wheat over Gene had dissipated, but now he was floating. Devin rubbed monster ash from her eyes– nope, still in the air, and starting to move. It was far from the weirdest thing that had happened that day, so Devin just hoped he was drifting in the right direction.

“I’m gonna just... take a nap right here,” she offered to no one, tipping backwards to lie on her back. Koa padded over and licked her face, and Devin wrapped her arms around her dog like an oversized stuffed animal, pressing her face into his fur. “Good dog. Best friend.” She wheezed out a laugh. “I’m quoting Homestuck in the year of our lord 2020. Don’t hold that against me, boy, today’s been fucked.”

When she next opened her eyes five minutes later, it was to a face only a few inches from her own. Devin yelped and swung, but her hand bounced off an invisible shield before it made contact. “What the fuck?”

Startlingly pale eyes stared down at her. Devin thought the girl was missing part of her head until her eyes focused and she realized her hair was the same shade of blue as the sky behind her. Devin watched as the girl lifted her hands towards the clouds, and the ground disappeared beneath her body as Devin floated into the air like her brother had before. Terence was still nearby helping Eli, so it seemed a fair assumption that she wasn’t being carted off to her death. Even if she was, Devin didn’t know if she could lift her head, let alone a sword. “Um. Who are you?”

The girl started to walk, fingers pinching the corner of Devin’s sleeve to pull her along with her. “Alice.” Her stare forward was unblinking. “I was chasing a rabbit and heard a loud sound. It made my rabbit run away.” The corners of her mouth tugged down. “I came to give help. Terence could not lift the large handsome man alone.”

“First of all, gross. Second, uh. Thanks? Is your dad the god of helium or something?”

Alice giggled at that and shook her head, pressing her lips together. Devin found it in herself to smile.

“So where are you taking me? You’re my Uber to summer camp?”

“Camp Half-Blood,” Alice agreed, gaze shifting back to Devin as they came to a halt at the top of a hill. Before them stretched a valley, buildings dotting the grass all the way out to where land met water. It was impossible to all take in at once. “You are lucky you did not die. Now you can live here. Welcome.”

#devinsp2 #devin #aaaaand that's all folks

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spnjediavenger · 5 years

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Feel My Dreams Part 4

Title: Feel My Dreams Part 4 (boys x sister figure!reader)

Type: sequel

Warnings: general SPN violence, injury description, blood, mild torture description, angst AF

Spoilers: none

Disclaimers: I don’t own supernatural or its characters

Flower info: wikipedia

Latin translation: google translate

Notes: We get a bit crazy after the first 1/4th of the fit; incase you can't follow: italicized is ellie’s dream state, bold is following sam, dean, and rowena

Finally done! This was a fun one to write and i loved it. Should i write a short epilogue?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

“That’s a black magic spell circle,” Rowena said as she looked at the symbol Y/n had drawn from her last nightmare. “It must be how Arcadia summons Y/n when she falls asleep. When she wakes up in it, she isn’t able to leave it.”

“And Y/n, you say you couldn’t talk this time?” Sam asked, brow furrowed.

She nodded. “She cast some kind of spell to make it that way so you wouldn’t be able to hear me again. She said again how each time I dreamed, the stronger our bond was and the more magic she’s able to use on me.”

“Awesome. So what are we supposed to do until we track Arcadia? We can’t let Y/n sleep again until we’re at least close, right? How long will it take to track her?” Dean asked.

“Y/n, were you able to notice anything about where you were in the dream? You said before that it’s always the same place,” Cas pointed out. “Have you seen anything that could help indicate where it was?”

Y/n thought for a moment before shooting her head up and running (as fast as her injuries would allow her) to grab her laptop. She opened the browser and began searching.

“What are you looking for?” Sam asked, approaching her from behind.

“Calochortus cernuus,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Cal-what?” Dean now hovered over her as well.

“It’s a flower. In the dream, I was able to look around quickly before Arcadia came out. I was in a basement but there was a window. Outside I could see mountains and this flower. I’ve seen it before but only in pictures; it’s not native anywhere around here,” the girl explained.

“Where is it native to, then?”

Y/n smiled when she found it. “Only one place in the world. Morelos, Mexico.”

“Wait, I’m sorry - Mexico? As in, the country Mexico?” Dean asked incredulously.

“Y/n, you’re sure about what you saw in the dream?” Sam asked. He was more than willing to make the drive, but wanted to be sure before having to go across the border.

Y/n nodded.

“Ok, so we’re going to need a plan,” Sam said, addressing the whole group. “That’s going to be over a day’s drive and we don’t want Y/n falling asleep until we need to use the tracking spell otherwise Arcadia might-...she might get the chance she needs. And we need to try and figure out a way Y/n might be able to fight back because she can’t leave the dream until we find her.”

“What about the baku?” Cas asked.

Y/n shook her head. “The baku will just pull me out of the dream. Ro, how long will the spell take to track Arcadia? If I wait for that amount of time in the dream, I could summon the baku to pull me out then.”

Rowena frowned and shrugged. “It all depends on how strong Arcadia’s bond is to you and how large the town is. If there’s traffic it’ll take longer.” This earned Rowena a quadruple Winchester bitch face. “What? We need to get to her quickly and there’s going to be crowds!”

The group rolled their eyes.

“Ok, we can’t have Y/n summon the baku, so we need to figure out something to keep her from getting strapped down in the dream.”

“What about a sigil?” Y/n suggested. She picked up her journal and flipped through the pages until she reached the right one. She pointed to a geometric symbol and pointed to it. Rowena looked at it and squinted a bit in curiosity.

“It’s supposed to protect against psychic attack and guard against black magic,” Y/n said.

“Ay, I’ve seen it before,” Rowena said, still gazing at it in thought. “Like the other things you suggested, it won’t stop Arcadia but it will be a wee bit stronger than those. It might be able to impede her magic a little bit. But we’ll have to use something more than chalk or paint.”

“Like what?”

“Blood,” she answered regrettably. “Y/n’s to be exact. If we want it to truly make a difference to protect her, it will have to be a piece of her.”

“How much would we need?” Sam asked, concern lacing his features.

“We shouldn’t need much.”

“Alright, great,” Dean said, clapping once in satisfaction. “Who’s going and who’s staying behind?”

Rowena spoke up before the others could get the chance. “I’m going with you to kill Arcadia. And we should bring as many as we can.”

“Sam, Dean, why don’t you two go with Rowena and I’ll stay here with Y/n? I can use what grace I have to heal any injuries Arcadia might inflict.”

“Is that alright, Y/n?” Sam asked.

“Best plan we’ve got,” she shrugged. She more than trusted Cas to take care of her and the others to take on Arcadia.

“Break out the coffee then,” Dean said to Y/n. “We’re gonna need to keep you up until we get to Morelos.”

~ ~ ~

The boys and Rowena made it across the border and only had a few hours left to go. Y/n and Cas were in Y/n’s room, waiting for the OK for her to sleep.

Said girl paced back and forth in her room, holding her arms in anxiety.

“Y/n, everything will be fine,” Cas assured her, though he knew that probably wouldn’t be enough.

“You don’t know that, Cas,” she said, turning to face the angel. “What if the spell doesn’t work? What if they can’t beat Arcadia? What if the sigil doesn’t work and she kills me before Ro and the guys find her?” Y/n said, gazing blankly down at the floor as her eyes stung a bit with coming tears.

“Hey.” Cas stepped up and put his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them a bit to make her look up at him. “Nothing will happen to you, alright? Sam, Dean, and Rowena are more than capable of taking care of themselves. And I believe they have the skills to kill Arcadia. And if you need to exit the dream, call the baku and it will get you out like it did last time and we can try to figure out an alternative method. But you have to believe we’re going to fix this. We won’t let Arcadia kill you. Alright?”

When Cas finished, Y/n gave him a slightly teary smile and nodded. “Thank you, Cas.”

Cas smiled back and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “Always.”

The trio in Mexico arrived to the outskirts of Morelos. It was time.

When Cas received a call from Dean, Y/n walked over to the mirror in her room, made a small cut on her hand, and drew the protection sigil on her forehead from the blood. Cas wrapped her hand in a bandana and led her over to the bed. She recited the palindrome three times, noting the orange glow from under her pillow again. She let out a shaky breath and Cas grabbed her good hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Everything will be alright,” he promised again.

Y/n nodded, the kind look in his eyes putting her a little at ease.

She laid down and closed her eyes.

The table. Again.

Y/n’s heart dropped to her stomach but stopped for a moment when she realized she was able to move. Confused, she slowly sat up and noticed her body seemed to phase through the straps on the table.

Y/n quickly looked around and noticed Arcadia wasn’t there yet. She quietly hopped off the table and looked for anything she could use to defend herself. She spotted a shelf to her right, next to the staircase; on the shelf was an arrangement of tools and ingredients. And a knife.

Looking around once more to be sure she was alone, Y/n tip-toed towards the shelf only to feel a shock run through her body. She fell onto the floor and saw the spell circle. Rowena was right - she couldn’t leave it. Y/n ran a hand over it and realized it was carved into the ground; so she wouldn’t be able to alter it without some kind of tool.

A creak was heard and Y/n looked up in just enough time to dodge a knife from lodging itself into her chest. After staring at it for a moment, shocked, she looked over to see Arcadia standing at the bottom of the steps with a fuming expression on her face.

“This is the last time I play this game with you. No holding back this time,” she said, advancing quickly to Y/n. Y/n discretely grabbed the knife but slid it into her boot, not wanting to use it until she needed to. Arcadia twisted her hands and Y/n closed her eyes, preparing for her insides to twist. But it didn’t come like she expected. There was a dull pain but nothing that she couldn’t handle.

She looked up in confusion and saw Arcadia looking back at her the same.

“What did-” the witch stopped cold when she looked at the mark on Y/n’s head. Arcadia scowled. “Well done,” she sneered. “But it still won’t keep me from driving my blade through your heart.” A long, jagged blade fell from her sleeve and into her hand. Y/n gulped but pushed her fear aside and stood up, putting her shoulders back to face Arcadia.

Sam, Dean, and Rowena drove through the quiet streets of Morelos, Mexico. It was nighttime so the crowds had died down a considerable amount. Rowena held a special pendant in her hands, specific for use in tracking spells. She altered it a little for their use, a strand of Y/n’s hair in the center with a small amount of other ingredients.

The pendent began moving, pulling at the chain through the air, its only restraint being Rowena’s hand. Concluding that Y/n must have entered her dream state, the group began driving in the directions the pendent pulled towards.

Arcadia lunged towards Y/n, bringing her blade down through the air. It was easily deflected by Y/n, pushing her arm away and landing a punch to the witch’s face. Arcadia stumbled back a few steps, holding a hand up to her nose, and removing it to see crimson streaming across it. She scowled and lunged again, tackling Y/n’s middle to drop her onto the ground. She quickly raised her hand again and drove her knife towards Y/n’s chest; but Y/n pushed her hand away at the last minute and the knife, instead, landed in her shoulder, eliciting an ear-piercing scream.

Cas had been sitting by Y/n’s side, feeling helpless as she jerked about in her sleep. But all he could do is wait. And as he did, Y/n suddenly shouted next to him and he looked down to see blood seeping from her shoulder. He quickly ripped the sleeve of her shirt away and hovered his hand over the wound. A golden glow emitted from his hand as he scrunched his face in concentration. Cas’ breathing quickened a bit as using his grace took a lot of energy from him since he didn’t have much left. Once he saw the wound stitched in the deeper parts, he let go with a gasp, wanting to save the rest of his grace if Y/n got hurt again.

Y/n sighed in relief as some of the pain in her shoulder eased up. She took the relief and used her strength to kick her legs up and throw Arcadia off of herself. Arcadia landed hard on the floor and Y/n took the opportunity to slide her own knife out of her boot.

The trio stopped the impala when they reached the end of the roads; only the mountains lay before them. They got out of the car and began jogging wherever the necklace moved.

Dean felt a buzz in his pocket and picked up a call from Cas.

“Cas, what’s going on?” he answered gruffly while running.

“Dean, you need to hurry if possible. I believe Y/n and Arcadia are fighting and Y/n has already sustained a stab wound in the shoulder. I’m only hoping she can regain the upper hand until you get there.”

Dean cursed under his breath as he hung up. “We need to hurry,” he addressed Sam and Rowena. “Arcadia’s kicking her ass; we need to get there and kill the bitch.”

Arcadia tried with all her might to use her spells against Y/n, but none of them worked to their full power.

Y/n used this to her full advantage since she relied on combat skills and Arcadia had relied on magic up to this point. This was a fight Y/n could win. Or so she thought.

Rowena stopped in her tracks when the necklace gave a particularly hard tug to her right. She snapped her head to the side to see a small house built into the side of the mountain, partially hidden by some trees.

“There!” she exclaimed, pointing to the house.

She, Sam, and Dean wasted no more time in sprinting as fast as they could, determined to end this here and now.

Arcadia had Y/n pinned again and used the moment to smear the protection symbol off Y/n’s head. Y/n’s eyes widened and she struggled extra hard to release herself from the witch’s grip. She was able to push her off but Arcadia uttered some words and Y/n was frozen to the floor.

“Baku-san, help me. Baku-san, help me. Baku-san, help me!” Y/n cried out.

Arcadia yelled out a ‘no!’ but it was too late. An orange light materialized into the creature in front of Y/n, snarling at Arcadia when it fully appeared. It quickly pounced to knock her away, then ran back to Y/n, who held out a hand to pause the creature.

“I can’t leave yet,” she told it. “My friends need me to stay in the dream until they track Arcadia.”

Y/n felt a force of sorts in her mind, then heard the baku speak to her: Since she has a hold on you, I cannot fully interfere with her actions, but I will do my best to hold her back and I will do what I can until your friends arrive. This should help as well.

Y/n looked as the baku looked down and swiped one of its big paws at the ground, digging lines through the black magic circle that kept Y/n in. She nodded her thanks and stood up to face Arcadia again.

The boys and Rowena finally got to the house and went to burst through the door but Rowena stopped them.

“It’s guarded with magic,” she said. “We’ll need a counter-spell to get through.”

“Like what?! Can’t we just break the door down?!” Dean yelled.

“Try it and you’ll be killed. Call your angel; have him look in the notebook I left behind. It should have a counter-spell in there that requires few ingredients.”

Sam took out his phone to call Cas.

Cas jerked his head to Y/n’s bedside table when his phone rang. He quickly answered and put the phone to his ear.

“Sam, what is it?”

“We need you to get Rowena’s notebook and tell us what we need for a counter-spell, Arcadia’s place is warded by magic and we can’t get in,” Sam’s rushed voice came from the other end.

“Sam, the fight is escalating. If Arcadia strikes and I’m not in the room, Y/n could die.”

“If we don’t get this spell to get in, she’ll die! At least this gives us a chance. Just go! What could happen in a minute?!”

Cas let out an impatient sigh, gave one last glance to Y/n, then shot up and bolted down the halway of the bunker. He desperately grabbed Rowena’s book from the table in the library and furiously flipped through the pages when he heard Y/n scream again.

Y/n fell to the floor again, spitting out blood from taking a blow to the face. The baku was quick to stop Arcadia from getting too close, but she became quick. And once Y/n fell, the baku ran to lift her back up but Y/n fell through its tusks; its form began to waver and dematerialize. Y/n jerked her head up to see Arcadia blow some kind of dust from her hand towards the baku.

Upon seeing Y/n’s shocked and confused glance, Arcadia smirked. “You may have picked up a few new tricks but so did I. Say good-bye to your protection.”

The creature vanished in a burst of light, the force pushing Y/n to the ground once again.

She didn’t get a second to process anything when a sharp current of electricity shot throughout her body. Y/n screamed as much as she could, body beginning to convulse on the floor. Arcadia stood over her, muttering a chant of sorts under her breath and smirking with pleasure.

“Sam, hurry!” Cas yelled into the phone. He had read the instructions from the book as he ran back into Y/n’s room. When he entered, he saw the girl writhing in her bed, a look of pure agony twisted on her face.

The angel looked helplessly at her, knowing there wasn’t anything he could do.

“Frange ait, ista maledictio, et exaltare in hoc magicae. Huic loco lucem custodiatur.” Rowena chanted these words as she held a hand out towards the house while Sam ground up the ingredients the spell required and packed them into a glass bottle Dean retrieved from the impala. Rowena yelled the chant one last time and nodded to the older Winchester; Dean lit a match and dropped it into the bottle, lighting the contents on fire. Sam closed it and promptly threw the container at the door, causing a small explosion upon impact.

Y/n’s body screamed for relief, unable to take anymore pain. It seemed her plea was heard when the electric currents suddenly ceased. The girl let out a shuttered sigh, turning over on the cool pavement under her body and relishing in the cold feel of it. She didn’t hear the sound of an explosion but she felt the end of the rumbling under her body.

The trio entered the house and saw a few women laying on the floor; they suspected the blast knocked them unconscious. Rowena muttered a spell as they passed each one to guarantee they wouldn’t wake for awhile.

They continued on quickly through the house until they found a secret opening behind one of the bookcases in the small library of the home. They began descending the steps so Rowena spoke to the boys quickly.

“It’s likely Arcadia is aware of us entering so she’s going to try and kill Y/n quickly to get the job done so hurry and kill her before she gets the chance!”

Sam and Dean had both loaded their guns with witch-killing bullets; they each raised their firearm, quietly rounded the corner to the last set of stairs, and froze at what they saw before them.

Two ghost-like figures tumbled on the ground in front of them in a brawl.

“What am I looking at right now?” Dean whispered.

“Their dream forms. Arcadia’s body must be somewhere else,” Rowena replied, shock evident in her voice.

“Where?!” Sam whisper-yelled. “We looked through the whole house!”

“There!” Dean said, pointing to another door on the opposite side of the room. “Rowena, can they see us in this form?”

The witch shrugged. “Only one way to find out, I’m afraid.”

“If we shoot her...ghost...form or whatever, will it do anything?”

She shrugged again, making the boys sigh in frustration.

“Alright, Sammy, you go for the door, I’ll stay here and shoot the ghost if she sees you; see if it does anything,” Dean instructed.

“I’ll go with you,” Rowena said. “I have something that will make sure she doesn’t resurrect herself again.”

Dean’s brother took a deep breath and cautiously walked the remaining steps to the basement floor. Sam held his breath as he took quiet steps, thanking Chuck nothing seemed to happen yet. Y/n and Arcadia were still fighting by the time Sam reached the door. He opened it to find Arcadia’s body lying unconscious on a chair in the middle of the room.

He raised his gun again and fired, landing one bullet in her head and one in her chest.

Y/n’s eyes shot open and she took an ugly-sounding gasp for air, only to hunch over the side of her bed and cough up blood onto the floor.

“Y/n! Y/n, what’s wrong?” Cas yelled, holding onto her shoulder.

She just shook her head and clutched her stomach. She tried pushing herself off the bed but couldn’t seem to hold her own weight as she collapsed onto the floor.

Cas panicked and dialed Dean’s number as fast as he could.

“Dean! Something is wrong! Y/n woke up but she’s coughing up blood on the floor! What happened?!”

“Samuel, look for hex bags, bottles, anything that looks out of the ordinary,” Rowena commanded, running into the room with Dean.

“We’re looking, Cas!” Dean yelled into the phone as he dug around the room.

“Arcadia must have put something in place in case she was indisposed before she could kill Y/n; to make sure the job was done,” Rowena said.

The three frantically searched the room until Sam found and pulled out a hex bag from Arcadia’s jacket pocket. “Here!” he yelled. He lit his lighter, set the bag on fire, and dropped it to the floor.

Y/n stopped writhing on the floor and turned over onto her side, closing her eyes in relief.

“Y/n?” Cas, who had knelt by her side, placed a hand on her shoulder.

The girl opened her eyes, releasing tears, and looked up at him. The convulsing and the worst of the pain was gone but her body ached all over. And the horrors of what had occurred finally caught up to her and a sob escaped her lips.

Cas carefully lifted her up and pulled her into a hug, resting a hand on the back of her head. “It’s alright,” he soothed. “Everything is ok now. You’re safe.”

Y/n let out shuttery breaths and held onto Cas for dear life, ignoring the stinging of her wounds. The angel whispered soothing reassurances as she cried into his shoulder. He rubbed calming circles over her back and rested his head against hers. “It’s alright now,” he whispered to her; though he also did it for himself, glad the situation was finally over with.

It was done.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #SPN #SPN FANDOM #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #Sam Winchester #sam and dean #Sam and Dean Winchester #castiel #cas #winchester brothers #spn x sister figure!reader

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wetalkinboutbooks · 5 years

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The Bird King by G. Willow Wilson

Summary

The Bird King is a 2019 fantasy novel set in 1491, the novel takes place in the Emirate of Granada during the territory’s final days. The story concerns the flight of Fatima and Hassan, a concubine and mapmaker, respectively, from service to the Emirate’s last sultan. (Taken from Wikipedia)

We follow Fatima and Hassan on their search for the Bird King as they avoid soldiers of the Spanish inquisition, and meet a variety of characters along the way.

Our Ratings:

→ Geena: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

→ Kae: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Overall: The Bird King is an amazing book that manages to be complex yet light-hearted. It touches on subjects like faith, love, and friendship. The characters are engaging (and absolute drama queens) and the plot is fast-paced so there’s never a dull moment. The dynamic between the characters leads to the funniest situations that will have you dying. In summary, reasons to read this book if you haven’t already:

A- ONE SUPER FUNNY BOOK PLZ READ IT

B - THE DRAMAAA OF FATIMA AND HASAAN

C - Vikram

D - Stupid

~ Spoiler-full discussion below ~

The Good:

→ Hassan and Fatima’s Relationship

Geena: The best thing about the bird king (aside from the horse named Stupid) was Hassan and Fatima’s friendship. IMO it was so wholesome and they were so in love (PLATONICALLY!!!!). When Hassan said seeing Fatima walking around was like seeing his heart outside his body…… a BITCH DIED!!! Also, the fact they would take shots at each other constantly? Loved it. HOW COULD I FORGET… HASSAN CONSTANTLY BEING HORNY AND FATIMA BEING LIKE “CAN U CHILL!”

Kae: OKAY MOOD LMAOOO. So boom. Geena covered it. We love this book! Hassan and Fatima are the definition of the 💯 emoji. But these bestie-bitches are DRAMATIC af. I’ve never seen two best friends who love each other as much as they do. They’re hugging and crying one moment, then the next they’re jealous that one of them is talking to someone else. DRAMATIC. I love it. Have we talked about Gwenny and Stupid yet?

Geena: WE HAVEN’T TALKED ABOUT THEM, the perfect accessories to the Hassan-Fatima duo. Gwen is the token white boi, there for Hassan to thirst over and Fatima to learn how to sail a ship. Stupid on the other hand…. God bless that horse all it did was drown and then LIVE!!!! The absolute legend. BUT Kae HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE GWEN AND STUPID? HMMM

Gwen: I only love God

Also Gwen: *sleeps with Fatima on the deck of the ship while Hassan is 3 feet away*

Kae: Well... Gwennec. Ol’ Gwenny Gwen Gwen. Gwen, the Monk who FUCKS. PAHAAHA. Gwen was a new Monk who was at first, totally against helping our favorite bestie-bitches. But Fatima was all “Don’t test me white boi I will kick ya ass.” And Gwen lowkey thought it was hot so he let them slide. He taught Fatima and Hassan how to sail while Hassan made googly eyes at him and definitely wanted to tap that. But, as previously stated, Fatima and Gwen got it ooonnn. Hassan found out and as like “Fa, I can’t believe you slept with my husband who doesn’t know we’re married yet!”, and that was basically that.. Then we have Stupid. The horse who was just as damn stupid as his name. The horse lived to spite the Grim Reaper just to prove it would breathe another day. We also haven’t mentioned our Jinn friend and their literal lifesaver/guardian angel, Vikram.

Geena: VIKRAM, aka another dude/djinn/dog man that Hassan wanted to fuck but couldn’t :( Vikram was essentially the only one in the group that had a substantial amount of brain cells, and spent most of the time trying to make sure Fatima didn’t accidentally kill herself. The fact that he saw his death and it was in the arms of a “beautiful woman” should sum up his character really well.

Kae: Geena is sooo right. Vikram was the only one with brain cells because Fatima and Hassan both shared two. Our loveable, dramatic, but also a little dimwitted faves wouldn’t have survived any of their adventure without Vikram. He lead them through a Jinn filled tunnel that Hassan made. Escorted them across the land with the Inquisition right on their asses, and fought off whoever tried to hurt them. Initially, he agreed to save them because of a debt he owed to Fatima’s Sultana. But in the end, Vikram helped them because he wanted to. He was a weirddog/man/Jinn who just wanted Fatima and Hassan to stop being dumbasses for five seconds. But they couldn’t so he was constantly annoyed and probs wanted to eat them to shut them up. BUT WE STAN THAT FURRY LEGEND BECAUSE WITHOUT HIM, OUR ESCAPEES WOULD BE DEAD-EEE. Also he was one suave, smooth talking mofo and I feel like if he walked up to you and said “You’re lovely, but you’re an idiot. It’s okay, because you’re pretty tho.” that compliment sandwich would go right over your head and you’d thank him.

Geena: ok FIRST OFF I would be like “why do you have a tail” but god Kae you hit all the points.

The Bad AND The Ugly

→ The Sultan and His Mom Being Pedos

Geena: Ok so, Fatima is 17 and I’m assuming the Sultan was in his mid-thirties, because he has kids Fatima’s age 👀. So I am sure it was historically accurate, the fact that the old ass man had a 17 year old concubine, but that doesn’t make it any less gross!!!! What’s worse is that Fatima’s mom was originally a slave for the sultan, so when she was born the sultan’s mom raised her and had her instated as a concubine when she was 15!!!!!! Scuse me while I 🤮.

Kae: Yea, Geena said it all. The Sultan was ewww. Fatima was his favorite and I guess he talked to her like she wasn’t a concubine? She was treated very well. For a concubine. Probably better than any concubine I’ve read about Like, she had rights and could talk shit without punishment. But still, DISGUSTEEENNNG. Our girl was groomed so we do NOT stan the Sultan.

→ Luz

Kae: we also have our main villain, Luz. She arrived at their palace to play peaceful, but she had ulterior motives that involved her spreading the word of the LORDT and taking Hassan in to be tried for Witchcraft and all that magic shit. Because if we didn’t say it before, Hassan can draw anything on a map and make that place a reality. Luz has this little worm in her eye that basically makes her super weirdly strong and badass. But fuck Luz. When Fatima finds out that Hassan is to be tried for witchcraft, she goes to him so they can both escape. Fatima wants to be free and she doesn’t want to see her bestie die. So what do they do? They dip. And now our friends are on the run.

Geena: UGH Yes, can I just say the moment that Fatima realized that Hassan would get canned she was like “fuck all these people” and peaced out with Hassan? Friendship goals… But yes LUZ!! I enjoyed reading her as a villain because she genuinely thinks she’s a good person and that her life’s mission is to “Save” people like Fatima from people like Hassan. You really end up liking her in the beginning, and then she turns around and murders a few people and you’re like…. Ah…… i see….. aND THEN it turns out she was being controlled by some brainworm that was also trying to get to the Bird King and you kind of wonder…. How much of what Luz did was her being a violent inquisitor and how much was the worm controlling her… you kno? She redeems herself by dying, so I guess she gets…. Like one (1) right.

Kae: Damn girl! Well said!!! LITCHERALY that is a perfect summary of Luz’s character. I can’t say anything else because it’s been SAID. Villains are always interesting when they don’t see themselves as the bad guy. They’re righteous and unforgiving because they believe they are doing the right thing. That’s what scary about them.

Conclusion

Kae: Okay, so in conclusion. This is an amazing book and in all honesty, I enjoyed the hell out of it. I was never bored reading it. Hassan, Fatima, and Vikram had quite the adventure and all the dramatics of made it that much more enjoyable. They left the palace in hopes of freedom. Hassan and Fatima got the idea of The Bird King from a story they liked to read, but never knew the ending. So they continued the story on their own, making it up along the way. In hopes of escaping their new fate to Luz and the Inquisition, Hassan drew up a map to the Bird King in hopes to find it. Their journey took them to meet Gwennec who sailed them to said island, where they discovered used to be inhabited long, long ago. Soon, others began to show up on the island. Hassan even got him a MANS. A DOCTOR. Whew. He’s got taste. The island is also forever changing and some of the remaining inhabitants are Jinn.

Geena: Kae summarized the story really well!!! The journey to the end was an absolute trip, but G. Willow Wilson tied up the story neatly. We get to see Fatima become less dependent on Hassan (thanks to his doctor bf who told her to chill out) and Hassan finally find the happiness he deserves. Gwen, unfortunately, doesn’t make it to the end (press F to pay respect). Luz essentially sacrifices herself by taking the map Hassan drew, getting off the island, and ripping it up. Why does she do this? Because to make a place or passage Hassan drew disappear the map has to be ripped. And leaving the map to the island wasn’t an option because the Spanish inquisition never stops!!

Kae: And if they ripped the map on the island, the island would cease to exist! Upon arrival to the island, everyone had their ships wrecked. Luz got fucked up on the shipwreck and that worm thing got ripped out of her eyes and then it became a monster on the island that was NOT to be trifled with. Since Luz got all jacked up, she was gonna die anyway and no one wanted her to stay--

Geena: Everyone said “u cant sit with us” to luz. OKAY DISCUSSING THIS BOOK MADE ME REMEMBER HOW MUCH IT MADE ME LAUGH, GENUINELY ONE OF THE FUNNIEST BOOKS I’VE READ. 10/10 FOR ME!!

Kae: LMAOOO HONESTLY. XPECIALLY FATIMA NEVER HAVING WALKED SO FAR BEFORE AND BEING A BIG OL BABY. but she DIIIID have messed up shoes that blistered so I’ll give her that BUT YES HASSAN WAS A DRAMA QUEEN “waaah, I have red hair and im pale BUT I'M STILL HOT AND I LIKE TO F U C K” But yeah, Luz got voted off the island and voted herself off the island, ripped up the map, and then they were safe and lived happily ever after. Vikram even made his final appearance to say his goodbyes to Fatima, even though he hates goodbyes. I give this book a 10/10. It was funny, the characters were likeable and relatable, and it was just a good adventure read.

#the bird king #G. Willow Wilson #diverse books #book review #the bird king review #book blogging #booklr

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ladynonsense · 6 years

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A Royal Disgrace: Part 1 (TRR/PM Crossover)

OK guys! Let’s do this! This is part 1 of what I expect to be a pretty short little series about King Liam, Riley, and Damien Nazario. Will be NSFW in future chapters but this one is mainly place-setting tbh. I just want you to know that this is not going to be good clean family fun moving forward 😅

Main pairing (for now): Liam x Riley

Rating: PG-13? Nothing too crazy here, just some flirting with sexy older women

Summary: Damien is hired to keep an eye on a visiting royal whose fidelity is in question, and is stunned to see a familiar face.

Tagging @brightpinkpeppercorn @annekebbphotography @choiceslife aaaand wishing I had sorted out a proper tag list at some point but I HAVEN’T. So if anyone else wants to be tagged moving forward let me know!

The duchess looked remarkably relaxed and at home in Damien’s office, despite the stark contrast of her beautiful, designer clothing and the cheap decor. He watched her anxiously, not sure what to make of her. He had expected someone stuffy and snobby, and thought she must have made a terrible mistake by reaching out to him rather than one of the fancy firms who usually took on this kind of work. But she looked perfectly happy with her selection, lounging in the cheap upholstered chair across from him with a warm grin on her face.

“Everything OK, Mr. Nazario?” She fiddled with her long blond waves, and he fought back a smile. Get it together, Damien. She’s almost old enough to be your mother.

“Of course, Duchess Krona. Just gathering my thoughts before we begin.”

She leaned in conspiratorily. “Please, call me Adelaide. We’re friends now, right?”

He resisted the urge to loosen his collar under her gaze. “Of course, Adelaide. Do you mind if I ask who referred you to me?”

“A friend,” she answered cryptically. “I’m told you’re both gifted and discreet. Is that correct, Mr. Nazario?”

“Of course,” he answered confidently. “I’m very discreet.” Why did that sound like an innuendo all of the sudden? Seriously, pull it together.

Adelaide let out a small, sharp laugh. “If only my daughter’s fiancé could say the same! This should be an easy task for you, I’m afraid. The poor dear never expected fidelity from him, but his boldness and complete lack of discretion is proving to be quite embarrassing.”

Damien tapped his pen against his teeth, nodding. Royal intrigue had never been his thing, but at its core this was just one more infidelity case. “What do you hope to accomplish from hiring me, Adelaide?”

She sighed, looking down at her hands in her lap. “I haven’t entirely figured that out yet. What I know for sure is that this must be handled quietly, out of the eyes of the press and the court, so as to spare my own family from embarrassment.”

“Is it your intention to blackmail the king?” Damien asked plainly, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“Oh, heavens no! Despite everything, he’s a fine man and I wouldn’t want to undermine him as a ruler or make an enemy of him. But perhaps if I’m the one to present him with evidence of his inappropriate relationship, he’ll see how easily he could be put in a compromising position and end it.”

Damien nodded, satisfied. “OK. I’ll take your case. But I’d like to keep this arrangement private, and I have some papers for you to sign to that effect.” Making enemies of a powerful royal family was not something he was comfortable with.

“Of course.”

“Did you bring the photographs I requested?”

“Yes, of course.” She pulled a small stack of photos out of her handbag. “This is King Liam,” she said, placing a photograph of a handsome man in regal attire on his desk. Damien was surprised at his appearance; he wasn’t expecting an actual king to be younger than himself. Adelaide laid another photograph down on top of it, showing a beautiful young blond. “This is my daughter, Madeleine. And this...” she added one more photograph to the small pile, “...is Lady Riley, whose company the king is rather...fond of.”

Damien’s breath caught in the back of his throat. Riley. No fucking way. “I’m sorry...Lady Riley?” He tried to cover his own disbelief. “That’s an unusual name for a Cordonian noble, isn’t it?”

Adelaide rolled her eyes and nodded. “Yes, it would be. Lady Riley is an American commoner, but she was sponsored by a prominent noble family to win the king’s hand. It seems she was...partially successful.” Adelaide frowned, her face marked by worry. “She was expected to be chosen before a scandal arose. I was thrilled when Madeleine was chosen in her place, but I suspect there is much more to this story.”

Damien gave her a sad smile. “There usually is.”

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

Once he’d seen the duchess back to her car, Damien sank into his worn office chair with a sigh, lifting a photograph off his desk. Fucking Riley.

He supposed he shouldn’t even be surprised. She had always been destined to woo her way into fame and fortune. He figured he’d been a practice run for her.

He’d been obsessed with her when he met her. As much as he tried to be a gentleman and not a creep, there was no denying the nature of his feelings: pure obsession. She’d been the only person to take his mind off of Kai in years, and while they were together, he’d practically forgotten Kai’s name. From the night she flirted with him as she waited his table, he was hopelessly hooked.

He’d tried to fight his own feelings. But she was dogged and persistent in a way that made him think she could’ve been a great cop. She’d attached herself to him and refused to listen to his doubts and objections. When Riley declared you as hers, there was nothing to do but try your best to please her.

The doubts only got worse during the time they spent together. He wasn’t stupid; he knew he was attractive and could keep her satisfied in bed. She was so young, though. 22-year-old Riley might be OK with a low-rent P.I. who made her laugh and made her scream when it counted, but he knew that eventually she’d realize she was slumming it.

And so he left her before it could come to that.

Her fury was a force of nature. They’d screamed at each other until they were both hoarse. He’d had to change his phone number to stop her from sending him bitter tirades and, worse, heartbroken pleas for him to reconsider. He resisted the urge to look her up for the next year and a half, but he thought about doing it at least once a week, still.

Now, it was time to do it.

Almost. After exercising restraint for so long, it felt wrong to dive in. So he started with the king. Never hurts detective work when your subject has a Wikipedia page...

He wanted to hate King Liam, but it was hard not to root for him as he read about his life. His face didn’t match Damien’s idea of a European royal, for starters. He wanted him to be a doughy balding middle-aged white guy, not a younger Daniel Henney. He didn’t want to get sucked in to the tale of his mother’s tragic and mysterious death, or his older brother’s surprise abdication that led to him unexpectedly being handed the crown only a couple of years later. Or the fact that his people adored and respected him. He just wanted him to be another rich prick, but in reality he was either perfect or extraordinarily skilled at PR. Or both.

Except for this one thing.

Riley Brooks.

He hadn’t expected her to have her own entry. But she did, although the translation into English was spotty in places. Clearly she’d made an impact on Cordonia, becoming a popular public figure with her Cinderella love story, until she’d been publicly exposed and humiliated for an affair with a lesser nobleman.

Damien winced as he pulled up the news story from just six weeks prior. The photos were intrusive and cruel. Riley may have been a bit wild, and it was entirely possible that she did indeed get involved with two men at once, but she didn’t deserve this, regardless. His heart ached for her with an unexpected intensity.

He had to dig deeper for the conspiracy theories. And there were plenty of them.

For instance, that Madeleine, Adelaide’s daughter, had orchestrated the whole thing in order to claim the king for herself.

Or that the King Father had set it up, in order to control his son’s choice of queen.

And an overwhelming number of sources were certain that the king and the mysterious American were still romantically entangled. There were dozens of dark, blurry cell phone photos, not clear or convincing enough to hit major publications, claiming to show King Liam and Riley together in compromising situations. If they were genuine, then the king was shockingly indiscreet and borderline fetishistic about hooking up outdoors, in public.

Damien glanced at his camera. This might be too easy. But he would never forgive himself if he was the photographer behind the next round of humiliating photos to damage Riley’s reputation.

He picked up the phone and dialed the number of the hotel that Adelaide had told him about. She hadn’t even bothered to give the front desk a fake name.

“Hello?” Her voice was chipper but somewhat confused when she answered the call. His mouth suddenly went dry when he heard her voice on the other end of the line.

“Riley,” he croaked awkwardly, “It’s uh...it’s Damien...Nazario. Can we meet?”

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

Riley kept to the sidelines at the UN ball, praying for the night to end already. Her friends were off dancing...well, except for Drake, who was just off drinking. But Liam was still busy circulating the room, charming everyone he came across in that easy manner he had. She tried not to be too obvious about staring at him, but he just kept drawing her eye. He was irresistible.

She pulled herself away with a sigh, realizing she was staring again, and snuck up to the roof to pull out her phone. Damien had texted her his new number -- I can’t believe that son of a bitch actually changed his number to escape me in the first place -- and she was itching to find out what was so important that he had tracked her down after all this time. She wanted so badly to say something, anything, but couldn’t come up with any words that didn’t seem desperate and depressing.

“Ah, I’d hoped I would find you out here.” She jumped at the voice behind her, but grinned as she turned to see Liam, suddenly right behind her with a huge grin on his face.

“You snuck up on me,” she scolded, turning around and wrapping her arms loosely over his shoulders. “I thought you were busy.”

“Never too busy for you,” he said softly, kissing her forehead. She pulled away and shot him a glare that made him wince. “OK, sometimes too busy for you, but I always make time eventually. Right?”

“That’s true,” she sighed, rising to her toes to kiss him properly on the lips.

“You said earlier that we needed to talk...is everything OK?”

“I’m not sure,” she answered, frowning and biting her lip. “An old boyfriend reached out to me today.”

“Oh? Should I be worried?” Liam smirked, a little bit of genuine nervousness showing through his confident facade.

“Well...maybe? He said he had to talk to me...about you.”

Liam frowned. “Why would a stranger know anything about me that you don’t already know?”

She hugged him then, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m sure it’s not like that, OK? But he’s a detective, and a pretty good one. He might have important information. Or it might be something he thinks is important that we already know...I have no idea. But he wants to meet me later tonight.”

“OK,” Liam said, pulling away and nodding thoughtfully. “OK, that’s good. I’m coming with you.”

“You can’t do that. You’re busy with the court. Plus Bastien would never let you go out alone, and I don’t know if I trust him yet.”

“I’m sorry Riley but I have to insist. I can lose Bastien. How can we be sure this man doesn’t pose a threat to you?”

“I trust him,” she insisted. “Things got bad between us, but he’s a good person.”

“I trusted my father,” Liam stated simply, a slight edge of bitterness to his voice. “I trusted Bastien. You trusted Penelope. Even good people can be turned against you.”

Riley pondered that for a moment, unable to give a good response. He was right. Damien was a good person, but that didn’t mean he was on her side. Especially after everything they’d been through.

“OK. He’s going to be pissed when I don’t show up alone, though.”

Liam smiled, giving her one last quick kiss before heading back inside. “Let him be.”

#choices fan fic #king liam #liam x mc #damien x mc #damien nazario #perfect match #trr

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wilderflcwers · 5 years

Note

Eugene Onegin!

@someoldghost & @reydiogaga have both asked for our boi Onegin!!

(Just so we’re all clear, my reference for this is the musical, which I think I mostly understood, and also some of the Wikipedia page for the book)

First impression: (Old Onegin) Raoul le Vicomte de Chagny? (Young Onegin) Ok he’s kissing every woman’s hand to signify that he’s banged all of themwjhjhfjwfwwhWKJHWLKRHWKLW IVAN,,,,,!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Impression now: Biggest edgiest dumbass thot in St. Petersburg, maybe in all of Russia. Yeah he’s a fuckboy but like,,,, you’d still fuck him lbr. Tight pants king. V good at taking off his coat. V bad at most social interactions (or maybe……too good at some of them and consequently worse at others, like for example the time he shoots his friend for something that was his own fault RIP). He thinks he’s smart but is stupid. In terms of the musical, it’s fascinating how different actors portray the same character in distinct ways that emphasize different traits??? Ivan’s Onegin has the composed, refined, yet roguish demeanor of a gentleman cad, whereas Kirill’s Onegin somewhat gives the impression of a dumbass horny trickster god inhabiting a human man’s body, and Denis’s Onegin comes across as an elegant creep. Overall I have not decided yet if I feel sympathetic for him. But he sure is fun!!!!

Favorite moment: The scarf scene™…….so passionate……so moving……..so powerful. Also the library scene™!! so cute!!! so softe!!!!

Idea for a story: Onegin/TdV AU (blatantly and entirely stolen from my dear friend @reydiogaga). LISTEN. HEAR ME OUT. In the early 1820s, Krolock and Herbert decide they need a godtdamn vacation from rural Transylvania. They go to St. Petersburg. They meet Onegin. They spend the time broing and hoeing around. Soon the von Krolocks have to return to the castle to feed their graveyard vampires, and they invite Onegin to join them and maybe also become a vampire himself, someday. (This is a unique situation ofc but Krolock has spotted another potential son and, to quote @reydiogaga, wants to adopt this entire man-child.) Onegin refuses bc he has Commitment Issues (same tbh). They stay in contact until Onegin inherits the country estate, at which point (with no Krolocks to babysit him) the Tatyana shit™ goes down. Onegin kills Lensky in the duel, says “oh god oh fuck what do I do,” and flees to the von Krolocks. Together they have more von Krolock family fun times™™ terrorizing peasants and throwing opulent balls but in time Onegin realizes he has to go back for Tatyana. So he does, only to find that she’s married and won’t leave her husband for him. Onegin returns in shame to the von Krolocks yet again and then it’s VAMPIRE TIME BABEY!!!!!!!!

Unpopular opinion: I don’t know enough popular opinions about this musical to have an unpopular one tbh. I guess hot take more people should watch it

Favorite relationship: Onegin/Tatyana once he stops being a bitch & her husband dies

Favorite headcanon: Eventually Onegin stops being a bitch and Tatyana’s husband dies and they live happily ever after together uwu

Send Me a Character

#i feel that this rly reflects my lack of understanding of the text #sorry this took 2984724 years but here it is!!!!!!!#onegin

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kateanddevinreview · 6 years

Text

London Has Fallen

In which Kate and Devin write a porno

Devin: Okay, so this movie is just Gerard Butler being a badass right? Is this the one with Denzel Washington? Or are neither of those things right.

Kate: It’s something like that.

Devin: Well, Butler showed up in the credits, but so did morgan freeman?

Kate: It’s a trifecta!!

Devin: Or maybe I'm just racist and mixed them up.

Kate: Or maybe it’s the two of them being badass together.

Devin: I made some comment the other day about minorities being underrepresented at the oscars or something and they asked what actors I think should win instead and I blanked on literally every minority actor I knew.

Kate: Hahahah. It’s still true though. And to be fair, could you name any white actors?

Devin: My brain got stuck on Tom Hardy and forgot literally every other actor on earth

Kate:I think he’s on tv now anyway. So far this movie is starting a bit slow. Do you think someone is going to be shot soon?

Devin: I find it weird that we are in....India?

Kate: I think we’re at an Indian wedding. Terrorist’s daughter is getting married

Devin: This is set up for motive?

Kate: Probs

Devin: The Phantom of the Opera and Harvey Dent go for a jog

Kate: Why are politicians always running? I don’t think they do that much

Devin: I think cause DC? it's an easy excuse to pan around the lawn

Kate: Ok well fine, coming at me with movie reasons. Wait, is this a sequel?

Devin: Is it? Was the last one just called "London"?

Kate: I was thinking Gerald saved a president in the last one?

Devin: She has crazy eyes

Kate: She does but she’s pregnant

Devin: I'll forgive it if we get through this movie without her vomiting.

Kate: She’s in like her third tri already so she really shouldn’t

Devin: Google says this is a sequel, to Olympus Has Fallen. Lots of stuff falling apparently

Kate: Knew it!!! I’ve seen that one too

Devin: Really? I'm guessing last time he saved President Harvey Dent from terrorists, wooed or impregnated his wife, and got hired for secret service or unfired from secret service

Kate: Unfired, if it’s what I’m thinking of

Devin: This time he'll save the Prime Minister from terrorists, see his kid born, and...uh. Be knighted? That's my guess

Kate: Seems like a totally logical guess to me. I’m betting he discovers the Prime Minister was murdered. I don’t think people are expected to attend state funerals?

Devin: I think it's cause his vice isn't available? I think normally this is the kind of thing they send him for. But I am basing that on episodes of Madam Secretary so who knows

Kate: New guess!! President is killed and Butler has to protect Freeman

Devin: Hmmm. Maybe. Is Freeman the Vice?

Kate: Yes. He said “Hello, Mr VP”

Devin: I'm missing like half of this dialogue, idk how

Kate: Cause it’s boring

Devin: I want splosions!

Kate: This baby melodrama music is not my favorite. Once again I feel like writing is letting us down?

Devin: Yeah. Be better hollywood!

Kate: Also important people shouldn’t just sign shit without looking at it

Devin: is this the fringe guy? No. Who is he? He's someone

Kate: I think? No?

Devin: Fringe guy is similar but different. Oh! The Magicians? Magicians teacher guy?

Kate: No, definitely not him

Devin: IMDBing....

Kate: “Most protected event on earth”= everyone will die

Devin: Yup. This cast listing order is stupid. Do we know British Gerard Butler's name?

Kate: You mean the head of the British security? Also no. Also I think they’re going to use kids?

Devin: Yes, British guy. Mr. Sands! From Limitless. Thanks wikipedia, for your superior cast list

Kate: Limitless. That’s right, I never watched much of that

Devin: I really liked the main guy and all the arts and crafts in that show. I'm sad it was cancelled. Also we should add the movie to our review list

Kate: Yes!

Devin: Splosion! I didn't think those guards were supposed to have real guns? Then again EMTs should definitely not have rocket launchers

Kate: Hahaha, yeah, those cops are definitely plants. It’s clearly a very well orchestrated attack

Devin: Pretty sure only america gives their cops guns. Also, rocket launcher

Kate: Wow I don’t care how this movie ends the world would not recover from this

Devin: Yeah Kate, it's fallen. Show. Us. The. Egg. It's not London unless I see the big glass egg and the ferris wheel

Kate: How did they know that one president wouldn’t leave on time?

Devin: Trackers? Or they caused the traffic?

Kate: No, he decided?

Devin: Motorcycles, a car's only weakness

Kate: Nice driving!

Devin: Don't injure civilians!

Kate: Ummmm, Devin. I think that ship has sailed.

Devin: He rammed the bad guy into a non bad guy car!

Kate: Oh fuck. Ok so who is the black lady? Is she the First Lady?

Devin: Voight buddy, you could have moved. He's the driver, she's the head of secret service

Kate: He was driving! It was a bullet! Give him some credit. Is she?

Devin: Yes. According to wikipedia

Kate: She’s not doing much. And she hunkered with the president?

Devin: Right? Stop flailing. Where is your gun, woman?

Kate: Oh god. That was brutal

Devin: That was very brutal

Kate: Why didn’t they park closer to the chopper?

Devin: Crashing in 3...2...oh ok nvm

Kate: Hahaha

Devin: He's got a cane so you know he's evil

Kate: So true

Devin: Moral of this movie: don't trust the handicapped

Kate: And yet, they didn’t detect a plan of this magnitude

Devin: Uh, did those people just have labels?

Kate: Yes. NSA and something else

Devin: Like, movie? Movie. We do not care

Kate: I’m assuming it will be important later?

Devin: Why is the lady not doing anything?

Kate: Nice, flares! I like flares. Why are they flying so low anyway?

Devin: I got distracted googling the secret service

Kate: Anything pertinent to share?

Devin: Apparently the director just does the boring shit, so idk why she's even here

Kate: Ummmm, I think the movie should end here?

Devin: Yes they all died. The End

Kate: No way anyone survived that. I call bullshit

Devin: Also, I assumed presidents would have like one guy their whole time in office? But apparently they hire someone new a lot. Oh she dead.

Kate: For the secret service?

Devin: As director. Like Obama had 2

Kate: I mean, that’s four years for each

Devin: Trump has already had 2. The first guy for like 2 months? 1 month?

Kate: Well, Trump does that a lot. He’s had like 8 communication directors

Devin: I just wonder if they choose to leave or if the president purposefully swaps them out

Kate: Also working for the president is really intense, so maybe you just burn out and have to leave

Devin: Makes sense. The local biker gang is here

Kate: I don’t think bikes make that noise. That is dumb

Devin: Yes. Also no one checked the wreck

Kate: At least we know from earlier scenes they are fast runners!

Devin: This looks like he put his manifesto on youtube

Kate: What point is there in entertaining this phone call? Also why does he care about one president?

Devin: Imagine if he called before they watched the video! Like 5 minutes earlier

Kate: Right? He should take the uniform too

Devin:

"Who is this?"

"It's...seriously? You didn't see my video?"

"h/o googling it"

"It's on youtube"

"yeah one sec, gotta sit through this 50 shade of grey trailer"

Kate: Ahhhhhhh Being hunted by motorbikes!! Oh no

Devin: Sure, that's subtle. Also this is a regular subway

Kate: I like that he was able to loot the body for weapons. Very practical

Devin: Jesus Gerard Butler. WTF? You went from zero to torture in no time

Kate: I know, little intense. Definitely running on adrenaline

Devin: This is the most 'murrican fucking movie. You cannot convince me that huge squads of racists didn't come out of this movie going "rah rah ‘murrica"

Kate: Oh god. Unfortunately yes

Devin: Although these talky bits suck. I'd rather have more fighting. Oh, thanks label, I really cared what time it was

Kate: Everyone is dead, that’s what this discussion is. I mean surrender and then ambush. How many people do they think there are? You’re not going to be professional right now? Weird

Devin: Blah blah blah. Bitch it was a wedding. Of course his family was there

Kate: How did you not know his family was there? It was a wedding. So dumb

Devin: What even is the point of that dialogue? There better be drugs in his water or something

Kate: What kind of shoddy intel are you all operating on? This is dumb. Do criticize if necessary. You have to teach them. Also off color jokes?

Devin: "You know what's most important Mike? Children. That's why we are never going to spend time with ours in any subsequent movie."

Kate: Of course it’s not your delta team.

Devin: Yeah why was that message not in code?

Kate: Zoom in!

Devin: Enhance! Your safe house has a fucking skylight!?

Kate: Seems like a pretty lame safe house. Oh this is gross

Devin: This movie is very gratuitous with its gore

Kate: It really is. And president you should not have done that. You are not almost out of this by any long shot

Devin: There must be a porno of this where they fuck right then

Kate: Did all of MI6 just die?

Devin: I'm not going to lie, that weird pirate porno you made us watch that one time is better than this movie

Kate: Haha! Oh pirates. Also my taste is terrible because I still enjoy this

Devin: I don't believe the hackers would make this basic of a mistake

Kate: No, me neither

Devin: Also driving seems like the quickest way to be spotted?

Kate: They kept everything under the radar but you didn’t notice this earlier?

Devin: Ok I guess at least the car is bulletproofed

Kate: How many of these terrorists are there supposed to be?

Devin: It's just the same 4 guys, they're really fast. They keep healing when they're off screen

Kate: Seems like an infinite supply. Mutants!! Also Mike is still somehow always faster

Devin: Now I want an action movie where 3/4 of the way through you realize he's been re-killing the same 5 guys over and over and surprise! it's really a fantasy/horror movie!

Kate: That would be so good. Change the whole game. I do oddly think this would make a good porno with very very little change

Devin: It's cause there's so much standing really close while breathing heavily and the plot is basically just as thin

Kate: Yeah pretty much. It’s a male romance novel

Devin: Also there have been.....5 women? in this entire movie. 6, I guess. Wife, mother, secret service director, beehive, assistant cop, MI6

Kate: Assistant cop?

Devin: Black lady?

Kate: I don’t remember her

Devin: She was in the bullpen with not!Fringe guy

Kate: Ok sure

Devin: Oh, ok, and random lady who had a text label I didn't read

Kate: There was the turning 30 woman and one lady head of state.

Devin: Still, none of these people shooting right now? There's like 20 guys in this scene!

Kate: Nope. Can’t have women in harm’s way unless they don’t have a choice. Also no lady terrorists

Devin: Only lady terrorists allowed are dead motivation ones

Kate: Also I’m subbing lady because it’s faster to type than woman

Devin: Agreed

Kate: Omg. Whispered “Mike.” Straight out of a romance novel

Devin: What? Are you ahead of me or did I miss it?

Kate: Maybe? The president whispered it

Devin: No! I must have missed the Mike whisper

Kate: He should be really tired by now. He didn’t have dinner!

Devin: "Hear that? My boyfriend is coming"

Kate: He really should just kill the president. It doesn’t make sense not to

Devin: There is so much manly eye contact and face holding

Kate: So much

Devin: Like I'm pretty sure almost this exact sequence happened in Outlander

Kate: In the porn there would be a scene where the president seduced him, Mike walked in on it, and then they have a threesome

Devin: With the bad guy?

Kate: Yup

Devin: That seems like it would be out of place plot wise. Would the bad guy turn himself in or something?

Kate: No. Just random sex that doesn’t make sense

Devin: Weird. The sex should make sense!

Kate: It’s for real a thing that happens in porn, you get whiplash. Oh god. This is lame. Really?

Devin: One punch where he runs all the way across the screen. So stupid

Kate: Did we learn who the brit mole was?

Devin: Nope. They hacked the police station I think? Damn! Wheelchair guy didn't even get to make a speech about how bad America is. This movie is not even pretending to care about America's mistakes

Kate: Why didn’t he just shoot everyone?

Devin: Out of bullets?

Kate: He hasn’t run out of guns until now

Devin: What even is this dialogue right now?

Kate: Really dumb

Devin: "You fuck with America? OH HELL NO. WE BAT SHIT. WE WILL FUCKING MURDER ALL Y'ALL."

Kate: America’s not even 500. Witty banter!

Devin: "EVEN OUR PRESIDENT WILL PICK UP A GUN FOR MURDER TIME"

Kate: Also he’s not dead because you haven’t killed him?

Devin: Yeah you just punched him a bit and talked nonsense

Kate: Once again, another thing they wouldn’t have survived.

Devin: I feel like the porno version of this has them go back to their wives at the end with lots of meaningful looks and sly smiles between the two main dudes. Like "yeah, we'll do this again next mission"

Kate: Oh no! But yes probably. Why was there a lock in an elevator?

Devin: Is the president the only one alive from this whole thing? They would definitely make out in this elevator

Kate: I think one other world leader survived? There was a missing link to the terrorist?

Devin: I guess?

Kate: Who sent a fucking video?

Devin: Honestly this plot is stupid Yeah he's def the mole. Also he's running away? Like he obviously did it

Kate: Are we supposed to care about him or her? Because I do not

Devin: They would have had sex earlier in the porno

Kate: Yeah. It would have made more sense. Just kill him already

Devin: Also she would have just arrested him. I feel like the porno would have less murder

Kate: It’s weird that normally I complain about too much sex? But this would just be better as a porn

Devin: Yeah our review is basically "this would have made a better porno"

Kate: How would you have found him?

Devin: Who hears "look out your window" and looks up at the ceiling? Oh maybe that's what the missing link was?

Kate: Also the VP does not have the authority to call that type of strike

Devin: What is this 10 angled shot explosion? Ok, we've got a baby

Kate: So it’s been at least a few weeks

Devin: No prime minister but I didn't realize it was his funeral so I feel like the president is close enough. Now knighthood

Kate: Sure. They don’t know how emails work? Re: is for replies

Devin: "Many people would say this is our fault, but we're america so fuck those people. we'll kill those people."

Kate: “Commence spending no time with my kid”

Devin: In the porno version we end instead with a mirror of the earlier DC lawn scene, with them sitting on a bench watching their wives/kids, and the pres saying something like "still want to quit?" and Butler saying "and leave you, sir? Never." And then meaningful eye contact. Roll credits.

Kate: Hahahah

Devin: Okay, so scores

Kate: Yes. Scores.

Devin: 3/10 for the movie, 6/10 for the porno

Kate: I go a little higher movie? Like 4.5 for the movie. 6 for porno though. I think we can agree that no porn should ever rank higher than 7

Devin: Yeah. Like, even amazing porn is still porn

Kate: Ummmm tropes? So many, “family as our motivation”

Devin: “America is terrible and we never learn anything”?

Kate: Which is so hypocritical

Devin: “One man assumes command of literally every other character without argument”

Kate: Hahahaha. So like 7 on the tropes? They all fit the plot really well

Devin: Yeah, I mean it had a very particular niche and it played to it

Kate: Exactly

Devin: I'm going to give the title an 8/10. Catchy and accurate

Kate: I can agree. Thematic

Devin: London did pretty much fall. Like an old lady in a Life Alert commercial

Kate: Better than Olympus has fallen

Devin: Yeah, plus how fucking pretentious is it to call the white house "olympus"?

Kate: Exactly

Devin: What would the porn title be? I feel like they're usually puns?

Kate: Pun for sure. London may fall but our guys stay up

Devin: kind of long

Kate: It could be the tagline?

Devin: Oh yeah, good tagline. My brain gave me "Banging Private Ryan" which does not fit but is almost certainly a movie that exists

Kate: Hahahahaha. Banging president something? Whatever his name was

Devin: No idea, I called him Harvey Dent the whole movie. London Goes Down?

Kate: London laid down? Cause laid. Get it?

Devin: H/o I have to see if there is a real porn title for this. NSA people monitoring my internet searches, I'm really sorry

Kate: Gives them some spice! A story to take home

Devin: Top result for "London Has Fallen Porn Title" is:

"London Has Fallen movie condemned as racist 'terrorsploitation' "

"London Has Fallen is gun-barrel porn"

Kate: Whelp. Yep. I feel bad for enjoying it?

Devin: "London Has Fallen Is The Worst Film About Our City Ever"

Kate: Oh no it was a piece of shit for sure. Super fucking racist

Devin: “Blowing London.” That's my official submission

Kate: Nice! “Blowing London” is great. I thought you’d actually found it.

Devin: Ok, any parting words?

Kate: It was a dumb racist movie that I feel guilty for enjoying anyway? Which means we should have more action movies made with better plots and motivation. And female representation!

Devin: Or more action movies that are just porn

Kate: Or that. What about you? Parting words?

Devin: If you want to see a movie where Gerard Butler brutally murders everyone, this is it. Or, you know, go watch 300, it is less awful.

Kate: So true.

#kate and devin review #london has fallen #murrica

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cillaivory · 6 years

Text

I decided to take a break from packing and do something historical, based on @aph-fanficchallenges writing meme and the #6 one, “a historical piece.”

I feel like there isn’t much in terms of the actual history, but from a character introspection or whatever. The backdrop to this is the Slovak National Uprising, which took place from August 29 to October 28 in 1944.

I’m not going to take up all the pre-story notes so I’m going to drop a few links to read up on it, because a few key events are mentioned or alluded to:

Wikipedia | WWII Database | European Network Remembrance and Solidarity

Uuuuhmmmmm a lot of things are said in this story that idk would ever be said by a nation to their leader, but I like to think nations probably have snapped on a leader before, because they also represent the people and also, they too have emotions and morals and opinions.

Ondrej (Slo) just is also so very tired of the bullshit.

There are mentions of Velvet Pair (because this garbage trash writer likes them too much). You should all know Ivan, and Tereza is Cze.

August 30th, 1944

Smoking had been a nasty habit that he knew she never would’ve approved of, even in the times they were not together.

The cigarette hung from his lips as he watched the buzz around him, catching a few words of conversation here and there. The words “Fascists” and “German” were tossed around a few times, but currently, they were riding the high having taken Banská Bystrica. As a man, he felt proud of these brave souls, fighting for the rights they deserved.

But as a country, he felt useless.

The Lieutenant Colonel approached him, saluting him as he held his gaze. “Pozdravy,” he welcomed. “It is nice to see you out with the true people of the nation.”

And ouch, that hurt pretty bad.

He kept an icy exterior, trying to let the comment roll off his back. “I have been feeling a bit of tension, I figured I should see what exactly is going on.” The man sneered, as his eyes darted around the headquarters. “Are you prepared for a counteroffensive strike against your efforts, Lieutenant?”

“I have the spirit to fight for the land I long for, Sir.”

He smiled. “Then that’s all I can truly ask from you.”

September 1st, 1944

The Lieutenant Colonel had become a general the day before, after having been disarmed on August 31st.

He had heard the news before he went and sat in the office of a man he could honestly say he did not care for - even if he was a man of God.

The cross against his skin ever so slightly burned. He thought about the man before him, how much tension he had caused. Many people - good people; good husbands and wives and mothers and children and brothers - had been sent to their death by this man’s hand.

If he squinted, he could faintly see the strings on his hands that once upon a time, Tereza had pointed out. He smiled, remembering her sweet, elegant voice as she pointed.

Ondra, look. The puppet strings are moving, ever so slightly. Must be hard, when the master is all the way in Germany.

“I received word you went to Banská Bystrica prior to our disarming of it.”

He blinked, nodding his head gently. “Áno, sir. I felt the tension and they are my people.”

His president scoffed. “Well, those people are trying to destroy the sanctity of the state you and I are working hard to create. No matter, those who were caught, were shipped off to Germany.”

He did not need to be a rocket scientist to figure out what that meant. He clenched the arms of his chair, realizing this man, the man that was dubbed Vodca, was sinister, in this regard. People were caught and with no regards to any family or friends they may have had, were sent to be killed.

Well, if he were completely honest, he knew the man before him was just there in his fancy office with his fancy titled for formalities sake. He was just there because he could be, because it made it look like Slovakia was actually in control of his own land and actions.

"Vodca, sir...?”

“I have no time for idle chat, please. If you must say something important, say it now.”

He bit his lip and shook his head. He rose from his seat, leaving the room without a second word.

October 5th, 1944

His body was tired. His body was weak. His heart was heavy and he realized that deep down, everything was falling apart.

Ivan was a terrible man - or to him, he was, in this very moment. He had no regards for the fact that his own people were trying to do what they could to resist this occupation. Ivan had no compassion.

There was a promise, and prior to this, Ivan had apparently always been a man of his word, until the support never came on time. He kept asking the man what was going on.

September 8th came and the next thing he knew, the Dukla Pass Offensive had started. He was furious the offensive came too late, in his opinion. Ivan had said it was foolproof and that it wouldn’t take long to get to Slovakia.

The next thing he knew, it was October, and the Soviet forces had yet to reach him.

He assumed it was not all on Ivan’s shoulders. The 1st Czechoslovak Army in Slovakia (also known as the former rebel forces), without a doubt, had began to split and fracture. Nobody could seem to agree. He could feel as if his limbs were being ripped apart.

He rolled over onto his stomach and reached under his pillow, examining each and every envelope he had saved during the last few years. The neat handwriting formed poetry on the page, trying to play it off as if everything were better than it would be.

And soon, my love, you’ll be by my side again.

He knew she was currently trying to secure more support. He knew that when all was said and done, he’d be with her again, under the same roof. That was the plan of the Army. That was the plan of the Allies.

But this plan seemed more like a dream. He crumpled the letter, biting his lip.

“Please,” he choked out, “don’t let this be a dream.”

October 26th, 1944

“I did what I could, Ondrej.”

Ondrej knew that seeing her was dangerous, even though he still loves her, but right now, he is Slovakia. He is a state, protected by German forces, who have viciously taken down the people who created the 1st Czechoslovakia Army in Slovakia.

“It’s hard being Czechoslovakia without my Slovakia,” she whispered, leaning closer to him. He frowned.

“Terezie, my love, what happened?”

“Ivan’s boss focused his energies on Hungary and Poland. The other Allies... there was no support. I couldn’t...” Her voice cracked. “Your people are so brave, Ondra. So very, very brave. I wish I could have done more.”

“So many of my people are dead, and nobody will have closure.”

Tereza’s eyes widened as she stepped away from him, looking up. He probably looked a bit of a mess, with his hair wild and tangled, dark circles under his eyes, and his uniform unkept and messy. He wished he could’ve cleaned up a bit, for her sake.

But, he knows he’s too tired, and to be fair, she looked like she had also seen better days.

“It hurts to see you like this, lover,” she muttered, taking his hands in hers

“The resistance is done for,” he told her. “Or, for the most part. But I think my people have fight left in them still.” She laughed as he brought her tiny hands to his mouth. She flushed.

“I feel that soon enough, this war will be done for.”

He hopes, for his sake, she is right. Because he didn’t think any more people needed to die.

October 30th, 1944

He stands next to his president as he holds the celebration in the city it all began in. Two months ago, he walked the streets to see the leader of the resistance, to see what the people felt.

Now, he stands before the people, as the Vodca rambles about the German soldiers who bravely stopped the uprising, and how he, as a great leader, will make sure the lives of the Slovak soldiers are spared.

Ondrej looks on into the crowds, his heart empty. From his lips hangs a cigarette (a nasty habit, really) as he tries to fill the hole with something. Some people are proud and celebrating, but he can’t figure it out.

Somewhere, his people are sad.

When the celebration ends, he’s on his third cigarette and he turns to his president. He claims he had saved Slovakia from a bombardment, that he was able to save lives. Standing on the streets of Banská Bystrica, he feels nostalgia wash over him.

“I was here when it started,” he whispers. The president gives him an odd look. “I was here and saw the soldiers that were deported. The ones you knew about. Now, you want to save them?”

“With that rebellion ended, I can safely say I will try,” the president replies.

“The main part is over, but my people keep fighting.” He looks up to the sky. “The Germans will kill collaborators. And you know they won’t be the only casualties that will occur.”

“We do what we need to do.” The president eyes him, dangerously. “As a nation, I thought you understood.”

“Nation or not, I have feelings and morals.”

“As a nation, you are to sit down and do as your told.”

That is the straw that breaks the camel’s back. The president is glaring, but Ondrej - no, Slovakia, shakes his head. He cackles, sending chills down his own spine when he realizes how cold he sounds. The president steps back as he crosses his arm.

“How many more people have to die in order to appease your puppet master?” he snarls under his breath. “You immoral, son-of-a-bitch. You broke up Czechoslovakia, you participate in the murder - genocide - of my people, and you expect me to sit and be quiet? You may be the president, the Vodca, but you are nothing more than a placeholder until the Germans take over.”

The president sputters, as if trying to control the nation. He grins, eyes dark with hate. He feels the spirit of those who keep fighting surging through him. He thinks of Tereza, of Czechoslovakia, of himself, of the people, of the God he prays to every night to make it through to the next day.

He knows that Tereza is right. There is no denying that what happened with him is part of the larger scale, that Slovakia has also made a mark on the war. A war, he can feel, is coming to a close very soon.

“The end is near, and when it comes, I’ll be back on the streets, holding a celebration.” He declares this boldly, pointing to his president. “And when I hold this celebration, I will present the people with your fucking head on a stick.”

#aph fanficchallenges #cc's fanfiction #aph #hetalia #aph slovakia #mention of velvet pair #mention of aph czechia #also mentions of aph russia.

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mst3kproject · 5 years

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Cat-Women of the Moon

That doesn’t sound like a real title, does it? It sounds like something somebody made up to make fun of dumb old science fiction movies, or at best like it should belong to a parody of such. And yet, despite the snarky tone of its Wikipedia article (which reads like I could have written it), as far as I can tell Cat-Women of the Moon is totally in earnest. It was produced by Al Zimbalist and scored by Elmer Bernstein, both of whom did the same jobs on Robot Monster.

A cartoon rocket blasts off for the moon, carrying – as per 50’s Movie Regulations – three or four lumpy middle-aged men and one pretty girl. After a couple of the obligatory narrow escapes on the way, they manage to land successfully, and a mysterious cave leads them into an underground city where they are taken prisoner by telepathic cat-women! The cat-women have trapped them by controlling the mind of Helen the navigator, and plan to steal the rocket ship and conquer the Earth. Our manly heroes are immune to the mind control, but not to feminine wiles or the promise of caves full of gold. The world’s only hope is that at least one of them can keep his head about him and save the day.

Cat-Women of the Moon is one of the movies that I suspect was considered for MST3K but ultimately rejected because it was too similar to another feature – in this case, to Fire Maidens of Outer Space. Besides having similarly ridiculous titles, both movies are about astronauts encountering the last survivors of an all-female advanced civilization, who want to use them as breeding stock. In both, the evil plan is undone when one of the alien women falls in love with one of the oafish Earthlings, and both contain a gratuitous dance sequence that does nothing but fill time. Cat-Women of the Moon is actually slightly more interesting than Fire Maidens of Outer Space, mostly on account of an absolutely hilarious giant spider puppet, but it’s still two thirds over before we ever see a Cat-Woman.

It is impossible to overstate how cheap and shoddy this movie is. There are moments when the sets almost fall apart as people move around on them – one astronaut almost knocks a piece of equipment over and just leaves it sitting there at an odd angle. The rocket has roomy high ceilings and corrugated metal walls, with ham radio equipment sitting around on wooden tables and canvas space suits (with helmets that don’t match) stored in lockers that appear to have been stolen from a high school hallway. The city of the Cat-Women appears to be made of bits and pieces stolen from five different Maciste movies, and a couple of those ‘Family Tree’ decorations you used to be able to buy at Hallmark.

And oh, man, that spider puppet. My favourite thing is that it’s full-sized so that it can drop on Helen from above with all its totally limp limbs flailing. I love it so much. We never even find out what it’s doing there, either – it’s just a giant moon spider, because why the hell not?

About the only visual that works in the movie is the matte paintings, which are very nice, even when they don’t look very real. Some of the lunar landscapes are very realistic and the black and white photography adds to the verisimilitude. Sadly, that’s about the only thing Cat-Women of the Moon gets right scientifically. There’s a weird moment where one guy uses a cigarette (yes, they brought cigarettes to the moon) to demonstrate… something. Possibly the temperature difference between the day and night side of the moon. When placed in the light, it bursts into flame, which is obviously impossible in a vacuum. As if to drive the point home, not five minutes later they light a match (if you’re bringing cigarettes to the moon you obviously have to bring matches) to check if there’s oxygen!

The characters also note that there’s a difference in gravity between the surface of the moon, where they have to wear weighted boots, and the Cat-Women habitat. But why would Lunar Cat-Women, who have supposedly lived on the Moon for two million years, want artificial Earth gravity? What makes even less sense is that the Cat-Women, who have telepathic powers, resort to slap-fighting each other when they’re mad! These women can teleport… surely if they want to kill somebody they can just make their heads explode by thinking at them too hard, no slapping or stabbing needed.

That brings us to the biggest and most obvious thing going on in this movie. I’m sure you’ve guessed it by now – Cat-Women of the Moon absolutely despises women and it’s not even shy about it.

We’ve got Helen, who brushes her hair and does her makeup in orbit, and stands there screaming while the men beat the shit out of the giant spider with their fists. She’s supposed to be a brilliant navigator but it turns out that was just the Cat-Women working through her. The Cat-Women’s mind control powers work on women but not on men, and when Helen is in the arms of a man she truly loves, they lose control of her, too – as in The She-Creature, it is his male mine rather than her female one that is able to resist.

The man in question is of course not the Captain, who actually respects Helen, but the gun-toting jerk Kip. There’s a bit where he manhandles her and tells her to stop complaining because “I’m not hurting you that much.” The others aren’t much better, as one of them tells a Cat-Women, “you’re too smart for me, Baby – I like ‘em stupid.” At least that guy dies.

The Cat-Women themselves are scheming bitches, except for sweet, innocent little Lambda, who decides to betray her entire civilization because she’s got a crush on Doug the radio operator. This has been happening in stories since the Greek myth about Scylla, who betrayed her city after falling in love with the commander of an attacking army, and it’s been stupid for at least that long. The men aren’t any better, either. Kip and the Captain are fighting over Helen when the fate of the world is at stake. When they manage to interrogate her while she’s not under Cat-Woman control, one of the first things they want to know is which of them she’s in love with!

The movie hates cats, too. The inhabitants of the moon are Cat-Women not because they have tails and whiskers, but because they are cunning and underhanded, purring in your lap one moment and scratching your face off the next. They say they want to be friends, but really they just want to use and discard you.

I guess stories like this represent men being afraid that women will realize they can do without them, and like Horrors of Spider-Island, it perhaps inadvertently implies that this is true. The Cat-Women were doing just fine at maintaining a peaceful civilization before these jerks from Earth showed up. Maybe we’re meant to think this is because the men can resist their telepathy – which is built on another nasty stereotype about women, the idea that they’re some kind of hive mind. How many times have you heard somebody say ‘Women Think X’ or ‘Girls Like Y’, as if it’s genetic? The Cat-Women, all in telepathic communication with each other, cannot help but agree about everything – and one she’s made contact with them, Helen becomes part of this collective mind whether she likes it or not.

Cat-Queen Alpha’s control over Helen is probably the most effective part of the story. We know we can’t trust anything Helen says or even anything she thinks, and once the men realize this Alpha is able to use even their mistrust to her advantage. Helen cannot even trust herself, as she observes when she realizes she should care if her crew-mates live or die, but does not. Not that it wouldn’t work way better if the cure for it weren’t twu wuv, but it’s a good idea as far as it goes.

Up to the last few minutes of the movie we’ve been building suspense, sometimes in fits and starts, but we do feel like something’s going to happen. Alpha, Beta, and Helen have run off with the group’s space-suits, and the men are trying to catch up with them. We’re expecting a fight for control of the rocket ship – and then Kip just pulls his gun and shoots Alpha and Beta off-screen, while Lambda dies tragically and Doug cradles her body. It’s an anticlimax that just leaves the audience sitting there going, “that’s it?” And yeah, the next thing that happens is the remaining guys and Helen get back on their rocket and head home, so that is it.

Cat-Women of the Moon is sort of lukewarm entertaining. The shitty sets and stupid spider puppet are good for some laughs, but the movie’s sexual politics are obnoxious and its ending a huge disappointment. I can’t recommend it to watch on its own, but it makes for good DIY riff material. I’m sure Mike and the bots could have had great fun with it.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #cat-women of the moon #50s

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vrenaewrites · 4 years

Text

CRAVE by Tracy Wolff thoughts: Chapter 0 - 21

Full video here.

In which a mortal girls goes to her uncle’s boarding school after the death of her parents, and finds it full of creatures.

CH 0 for some reason: if you’re not living on the edge, you’re taking up too much space

“Try my hardest not to freak the eff out” - if you’re gonna use expletives, use them

Immediate info dump of “if you’d told me two months ago i was gonna be in fairbanks alaska to get a puddle jumper to denali, the highest mountain point in north america”

CH 1: landing is just throwing yourself to the ground and hoping you don’t miss

I thought these quotes were weird self help quotes but then i realized they were probably the chapter titles

The fog is referred to as “civil twilight” - this weirded me out because civil blood and twilight, idk if this is a real thing? Will look it up if i remember: it is the brightest of the 3 twilight phases and it is ABUNDANTLY clear that she added the civil part to not make it straight up twilight because this book is unwitting twilight satire

He tells her it’s a short runway “because it’s hard to keep a long one clear of snow or ice for any amount of time” HE’S IN THE MIDDLE OF LANDING A PLANE ATM BRO WE DON’T NEED ALL OF THAT INFO ATM

Grace is kind of funny if not a little cheesy

“Textbook landing” - maybe if that textbook is a horror novel he’s reading upside down and backwards - i don’t know if by listening to this i’m missing the line breaks and short sentences that would make this funny, so if i am lemme know but if she didn’t break this up it’s clunky

Her uncle is headmaster of the boarding school she’s being sent to

“Despite being a year younger than my own 17 years” - did you not read this out loud? Did no one hear how redundant that was?

“According to wikipedia, heeley - hailey? - has only one major road” she’s mentioned google and wikipedia at this point and idk if i’m the only one who finds that type of thing annoying af

“In weather that’s 20 degrees below freezing, if the app on my phone can be believed” THIS IS SO ANNOYING

“The insulated helmet will keep you warm as well as protect your head if we crash” yes macy we know what helmets are and also insulation, again the redundancy

CH 2: Just because you live in a tower doesn’t make you a prince

“Is that kadmere academy?” i shout - not, is that it? They’re on a snowmobile, with helmets on, and macy understood her...and she understood macy saying they’d be there in five minutes

She couldn’t google the academy

“I half expected quasimodo to be waiting for us when we got there”

It may be a castle but at least there’s no moat or dragon

Macy has short rainbow-colored hair

She’s wikipedia’d and googled her life away but didn’t expect to not be able to breathe since she’s coming from sea level and is now up in the mountains - i’m from florida and even i know what altitude sickness is

She sees a flash of red in the window “i don’t know who it is or why they even matter” ...what does that mean?

But she doesn’t see them when she looks back and she’s disappointed, which she acknowledges makes no sense…

“I should be bowing and scraping right about now”

It’s a castle with an xbox and giant flat screen, and they have wifi AND cell service up in the desolate mountains. I went to cossayuna - 476 feet above sea level, 7 miles from a town - and NONE of us had cell service the entire time

She picks up a chess piece and it’s a carved vampire, then a dragon

Then she comes face to face with the most intimidating guy i’ve ever seen, not just because he’s hot, there’s something different and powerful though i don’t have a clue what it is”

Face too intense to be beautiful, skyscraper cheekbones????, red lips, stone-cutting jaw, bottomless obsidian eyes, obscene lashes

Trapped by his stare, hypnotized by the sheer magnetism rolling off him in waves

“Annoyance flashes through me”

He’s blocking her view of anything else - did he step between her and the chess board?? Confusion, but because of this she has to look at his long lean body

“Double-wide shoulders” gross

“Nothing to do but admit that this boy is sexy AF - a little wicked, a lot wild, and all dangerous”

“Seriously, when exactly did i become the heroine of some YA romance? The new girl swooning over the hottest, most unattainable boy in school?”

CH 3: vampire queens aren’t the only ones with a nasty bite

He quotes hamlet to her, and she corrects him for fucks sake

“I warned your uncle you wouldn’t be safe here, but he obviously doesn’t like you much”

“Welcome to alaska?” “more like welcome to hell, now get the fuck out”

“Ignoring the pterodactyls flying around in my stomach” - this is a great line if it didn’t take you completely out of the action, which it does

This whole exchange about big bad monsters is soooooo fucking cliche

And he’s talking about the chess pieces the whole time????? Am confusion.

She’s so horny for this insane man screaming at her and cornering her

She says she’s lost everything that matters and he changes, his agony visible behind “layers and layers of defenses he’s erected”

It’s calling to her own agony

They're soooo connected and staring at each other

He pulls on one of her curls and it makes her super horny

“Five minutes ago he was being a total douche to me”

Pushing him is like pushing a wall of granite

He’s got a scar down half his face that she didn’t notice until now????

“A fallen angel with a bad boy vibe for miles”

She’s touching his scar…

“I don’t understand you”

AND SHE QUOTES HIM QUOTING HAMLET IN RESPONSE

CH 4: shining armor is so last century

“Mr. tall dark and surly” would be more snarky and cute if she didn’t just have an ~earth-shattering moment of connection~ with him over their agony or w/e

Some weird instinct i don’t understand tells me not to mention that guy - the amount of times this girl has acknowledged something she doesn’t understand is so redundant and weird.

She keeps referring to the guy she spent half the last chapter basically falling in insta-love with as “tall dark and surly” as if that didn’t happen, as if he was just a dick and then he left without all the insta-love shit

Uncle finn and flint is a student...couldn’t pick any other name?

“A smile in his eyes that’s as different from the other guy’s iciness as the stars just outside the windows are from the endless midnight blue of the sky” and i’ve fallen asleep while she was spinning this long unending heavy-handed metaphor

His eyes blaze with sympathy

He offers to give her a piggyback up the stairs…

“You’re so little i won’t even notice” not lyk other girls guyz

Four guys open the door and they’re all sexy AF, tall dark and surly is among them ofc

“I couldn’t help but wonder why the icy guy made me hot and the one lending me his warmth left me cold” WE GET IT WE FUCKING GET IT WE DIDN’T NEED YOU TO SPELL OUT THE ALLUSION

“I want a name to go with his insane body and even more insane face”

CH 5: things hot pink and harry styles have in common

Macy is a cinnamon roll i love her

His name is JAXON VEGA...JAXON. G2G

Macy was so nice to her that she finally starts crying because macy is the BEST

Grace puts on a harry styles t-shirt and macy is dancing around to watermelon sugar when she comes back. This book already feels dated and it came out last month

CH 6: no i don’t really want to build a snowman

She wakes up in the middle of the night thinking about jaxon and almost has a panic attack

I hope in the actual book there is a tw for panic attacks because when i see / read about the symptoms of one or a description of one it triggers one for me

She goes exploring the castle in the dark to avoid the attack

Some guys come in wearing like concert tees and ripped jeans and she wonders if they’re ghosts, like how hogwarts has ghosts

I could swear he was sniffing me which was totally bizarre and not ghostlike behavior at all - this was cringe except i was listening to it at like 2x speed so when you hear it fast it’s actually funny

The guys corner her

They say something like “show us what you can do” and they seem to smell something about her…? They’re werewolves maybe??

CH 7: Something really freaking wicked this way comes

Hate these titles sfm

“With my thin california blood, i won’t last in the snow”

Jaxon saved her ofc and makes the guys apologize

“The moon is doing its thing” they’re totally werewolves

She thanks him and he’s like “i just made you a pawn in a game” and she’s like dude what but he’s staring at her and it’s making her hot and bothered

He wipes blood of her bottom lip and sucks it off and she finds it SUPER sexy

“This isn’t like your old high school”

He whispers in her ear “you have no idea what i know” and i’m like..okay dis kinda hot or whatever

She wonders when she’ll see him again and why it matters so much to her - bitch because he makes you horny!!!! Just say that!!!!!!

CH 8: Live and let die

It’s at this point that i stopped for the first round, and i had to ask: why the FUCK didn’t macy or the headmaster tell grace that this was a school for - obviously - vampires and werewolves? Is macy one? Is it genetic? Grace is a mortal according to the back of the book.

Grace tells macy what happened minus jax

She mentions to macy the boys didn’t have cold weather gear on and macy’s like hmmm weird idk anything about that

And they’re going to a party tonight and grace is like i don’t wear makeup i only own makeup and lip gloss and i’m like...did i accidentally re-download AFTER because here we go with the NLOG syndrome

The party is a welcome party for grace - and it’s actually a high tea??? Tf?

“I’d die without netflix”

“Have you seen this show legacies? It’s about a bunch of supernatural creatures that go to a boarding school! Isn’t that silly??!”

And then macy says, “who can resist a hot vampire?”

Guys….are we SURE this isn’t satire?

“I can’t help remembering what those guys said about the moon doing its thing when i see the werewolf on the show…”

CH 9: Even hell has its factions

Omg her dress is showing off too much of her big boobs, maybe the jeans she originally wanted to wear will be better

Macy calls her beautiful and then we get a full “with my curly hair and freckles and this color eyes i’m so not beautiful, i’m wallpaper next to macy”

“We could be fashionably absent” lol

The beads on the door don’t shock grace but they shock everyone because she is NOT LIKE OTHER GIIIIIIIIRLS

This castle is goth chic baybeeeeee the light fixtures are downturned thorny black roses where can i cop these

“The pterodactyls in my stomach are now butterflies”

She says FML. did a 50 year old woman write this. Edit: i looked, i cannot find how old this author is

Velvet wallpaper, wall sconces shaped like dragons, LET ME IN

“Self-imposed isolation” lol little did she know what a phrase in the lexicon this would become in 2020

Cliques include muscular people near the windows, soft flowery delicate people in the back of the room which are macy’s friends, super-tall literally hot people in the middle, and the black-or-white money people that seem to be more formal

She says “basketball anyone??” re the tall people lol

I am going to guess: werewolves, witches, dragons??, and vampires

Macy keeps having coughing fits?

Hot redhead - simone, hot dark girl - lily, hot asian girl - gwen

“Simone’s just bitter all the guys are looking at you”

Grace loves dr. pepper so i fuck with her

Macy’s boyfriend is cam and his friend is james, who looks at her like she is food?

“I’m just not that interesting”

CH 10: turns out, the devil wears gucci

Would i have probably picked this title as well? Yes. did it make me cringe nonetheless? Fer shure.

“Do i need some jerk trying to make me his afternoon snack?” huh???? As far as you know these are normal boys...make it make sense

Jaxon makes his ENTRAAAANCE BABY

Dressed all in gucci black - she can tell from across the goddamn room

“Jaxon is anything but regular, anything but ordinary, even here among the blatantly extraordinary”

Icy blank stare soooooo much

She calls his voice low wicked and wild

She can’t stop thinking about “running my tongue over the perfect bow of his upper lip, dragging is lower lip between my teeth”

Idk where these thoughts are coming from!!!! Baby you 17 c’mon now

I try to think of anything else, snow!

She takes a drink and it goes down the wrong pipe lmaoooo

“At least if i find a bathroom i can die in peace” lol

But he touches her and she stops choking and she’s like “he couldn’t have stopped that, i know, but…”

He stares at her as he bites the strawberry and she takes it as a threat

CH 11: in the library, no one can hear you scream

“His moods change more quickly than my bffs instafeed” I -

Oh so NOW she’ll say “the fuck you in his eyes” but she was saying freaking and eff before...did her publisher tell her only x amount of fucks per book?

She goes into the library and her body is like RUN, but she ignores it…

There are beautiful gargoyles and ornate shelves and...stickers fucking everywhere?

The gargoyle is pointing to an secret room that says students needs permission, but she hears chanting and decides to check it out since it might be one of the native languages spoken in alaskaaaaaaaaaa

“Especially because some of them only have less than 4,000 speakers left in the world” okay gracie-pedia tf?

CH 12: it’s all fun and games until someone loses their life

She meets a girl named Leah - who was the one chanting

Okay but i do fuck with the horror movie quote pillows…

Damn leah’s boyfriend died…

“Tea from homemade leaves” again...read this out loud before you put it in a published novel...do you mean loose leaves? Do you mean homegrown leaves?

Is she gonna poison her????

“What do you guys have to lie about that’s so important?” “Everything”

CH 13: just bite me

“Lol jk”

“Finish your drink” BITCH IT’S POISON

Macy and leah are being soooo weird about what could have happened to grace on her own

Apparently leah is super popular and secretive so it’s weird she took to grace so fast - is this a NLOG sitch or a “come into my web little fly” sitch?

She pukes because of “altitude sickness” aka poisoning i bet

CH 14: knock knock knocking on death’s door

This theme of bastardization of guns and roses songs is really....something.

Grace takes a mental health day because she’s still feeling weird

Flint comes to check on her and invite her to a snowball fight…?

If your character’s name is grace, i feel like you can’t use gracefully as an adjective, the same way you wouldn’t say Rue said something ruefully.

Flint kisses her cheek and i’m already waiting for this Great Value Edward/Jacob triangle

But he makes her feel ~nothing~ compared to jaxon

CH 15: so hell actually can freeze over

Macy likes flint, uh-oh

But the different groups don’t mix

“What is this, mean girls alaska edition?” - stfu

Omg her uncle checks on her and he reminds her of her dad and :(

We get sooooooo much detail about how to dress to go out into the wilderness...here is one thing i was able to find out: tracy wolff lives in texas. So i feel like she did ALL this research and then was like y’all gonna LEARN ABOUT THIS I SPENT TOO MUCH TIME!

As a girl who has never ever seen snow, i felt this fascination

She finds a gnarled up weird tree guarding a trail

“A weird sense that i should turn around - like the feeling in the library - came over me but i knew i was just being silly”

The lack of survival instinct henny

She comes across a gazebo where leah and jaxon are sitting

CH 16: sometimes keeping your enemies close is the only thing that prevents hypothermia

That’s not a chapter title, it’s an entire sentence…

Ooh they’re having an angry, intimate convo

And leah slaps him!!

“They’re looking at me like they’re the predators and i’m the prey they can’t wait to sink their teeth into” we get it, first of all. Second of all, what is with the long-winded metaphors

“Every time i catch sight of him i feel something tug at me i can’t identify, something i have no ability to explain” it’s horniness.

Then she just leaves but he catches up to her

With his sexy af hair blowing

“Trying to run away from all the thing he makes me feel when really i just want to grab on to him and hold on tight” - so what is the truth?! You keep acting like you don’t know what the feeling is but clearly, YOU DO.

“Everyone answers to me, eventually.” - we found the line used in the adverts guys!

Oh my god, what an asshat. Asshole, i would have laughed. Asshat is stupid.

It’s annoying af

Doing my best dory impression: just keep walking

“Making friends with a dr - a guy like flint” CALLED IT, he’s a dragon

Leah’s boyfriend was jaxon’s brother

Neither leah nor jaxon was wearing a jacket. BOOM

CH 17: it’s discretion, not diamonds, that’s a girl’s best friend

Not only cringe but grammatically incorrect…she coulda just said “discretion is a girl’s best friend” and we woulda got the reference….

Grace mentions jaxon in front of macy and she’s supes weird and grace is FINALLY like wtf is the secret you’re hiding from me

“She looks at me like i’m a few snowflakes short of a snowball” SOMEONE. READ THIS OUT LOUD. WHERE IS HER EDITOR I JUST WANNA TALK.

The order?! “Just a nickname for the popular boys” bullSHIT

Macy FREAKS OUT when she realizes grace has been alone with jaxon

She says he was interesting and “macy looks at me like i said i wanted to bodysurf the alaskan tundra”

Macy “We’re talking about jaxon right? Arrogance of a rock star?”

She didn’t mention “the scar that turns him from to pretty sexy af, and scary af”

“He’s not the one who tried to kill me” “you’ve only been here a few days, give it time” get her MACY!

HE WAS LISTENING!!!!

CH 18: how many hot guys does it take to win a snowball fight?

Ooh jaxon mad that grace is going to flint’s snowball fight

“His breath is so warm and soft that i can feel it everywhere, even deep inside” okay you horny bitch!!!!! Was this cringe or did i like it or both?

“The orange and dark water scent of him” ...what? Dark water is a cologne? Or does she literally mean like the dark water of the ocean? What in confusion

Her throat is always tight and dry around him, all the time, every day

Flint pops up and he is wearing a dragon beanie…

The rest of the order shows up and “For the first time the phrase got your back makes sense” to grace...are you kidding me? You never understood a very simple common phrase til now? Sure jan

SEXUAL TRIANGLE TENSIOOOOOOOOON

But she only has eyes for Jaxon...they both reach to touch each other.

“Grace” it’s barely a whisper but i feel it all the way inside myself BITCH

“Something tells me this boy and his world famous disappearing act is going to be the death of me”

CH 19: we came, we fought, i froze

Civil twilight AGAIN.

“I didn’t think screwed up and obnoxious was your type” me-OW

The snowball fight happens

Sounds like fun, the designer faction isn’t there

“Did she just do parkour against that tree?” re: Macy so close to being funny. I did exhale through my nose. Then “did you just parkour that tree?” i DID laugh

Flint climbs the tree with grace over his shoulder ‘like spider man’ and all i can think is “you better hold on tight spider monkey”

The wind is so strong it knocks her out of the tree…

CH 20: there’s never a parachute around when you need one

Flint catches her in mid-air...this man… #teamflint2020

“You’re heavier than you look” dead

He has shame in his eyes? Why?

Because JAXON IS THERE AND HE IS MAD!

And flint is SUPER MAD!!!!!!!

Jaxon puts himself between grace and flint so grace can’t touch flint

“Can i just say i’m feeling a lot like alice in wonderland here? Things get curiouser and curiouser.” stfu

I was laughing because she was like “so much for fitting in, now i might as well be painted biohazard orange” but then she said fml. Stfu

Jaxon picks her up

CH 21: I like standing on my own two feet, but getting swept off them feels surprisingly good, too

If it takes up more than one line of a google docs page IT’S NOT A FUCKING CHAPTER TITLE!!!!!

Ooh and his arms feel really good around her, REALLY good

Now he smells like orange and snow and it’s making her crazy

Macy looks at them like she’s getting punk’d

“Grace.” “what?” “shut up.” i’m dead

“I sprained my ankle, i’m not dying of consumption” “yeah well, the night is young” this made me lol despite it being more of macy’s voice than jaxon’s

Jaxon is blaming grace for falling? “You don’t see macy falling out of her tree” is he negging her rn?

She’s called him super-sexy twice in a paragraph

Macy goes to get ice bc she’s scared of Jaxon and grace says, “Et tu, brute?” lmaooo

“I can do it myself” “maybe i wanna do it for you” and macy squeaks LMAO

His scar makes his smile a crooked little smirk...who else had a crooked smirk...the vampire this is 1000% based on, maybe?

“I find myself relaxing despite myself” guys. Reading is power. Read your work out loud so you can hear when you use the same word twice in a sentence, like this.

“My whole body lights up like the aurora borealis i’m still dying to see”

They almost kiss but don’t bc macy comes back

~~~

#crave #tracy wolff #jaxon vega #katmere #cringe books #book review #reading #fiction #negative review #booktube

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thecupcakeconsumer · 7 years

Text

Playing Ball pt. 2 - Fielding and Shielding

A/N: This series is getting i n s a n e and you'll never guess what I was up last night at midnight talking about? More ideas for this! So guess what there's more to come.

Part One | Part Two (You are here!) | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Navigation: Masterlist is here.

Taglist: @imaginesbyemma, @writers-block0o0

Summary: After you win your first game of the season, you learn there was someone in the audience you weren't expecting. Chaos ensues.

Warnings: A couple of sexual references, language, and punssss. The reader also considers the prospect of sex in this, I even used the word. Dick jokes.

Word Count: 3,027

Other Notes: Female reader, as per usual, and this is post-Spike. Reader is in senior year, about a month after pt. 1.

Softball was a great stress reliever, you would give it that.

And being forced to do the extra curricular on top of your workload had forced you to manage your time better, something that (though not your favorite thing in the world) had helped a lot when it came to your assignments.

However, that was all practice.

This? Your first actual game of the season?

More stressful than anything.

Pacing back and forth, you struggled to keep yourself in check and not allow the anxiety to overwhelm you, the line you walked slowly wearing a path in the grass.

“Loosen up, Y/N,” advised Sarah, her character bubble gum still being chewed as the first pitch became ever nearer. “You can't go in your first time dry.”

“What?”

“All I'm saying is, relax and you'll enjoy it. It's not all about winning, God knows we ain't won in ages. Good news is, our pitcher hasn't been suspended yet for the mysteriously recurring spitballs that nobody ever finds 'er doing.”

You tilted your head to the side a moment while attempting to comprehend what she had just said. “Spitballs?”

“Listen, dovey. You didn't hear it here, but there's sabotage that goes on with this team.” Pausing, her gum popped dramatically and she didn't even blink. “Watch your back. You're on outfield today. Whatever you do, don't throw for short stop.”

She looked up as a whistle blew loudly. “Time to go.”

Even more uncomfortable than you had been before, you reluctantly followed her to the huddle.

“It's our first game of the season, eighth inning, and our Griffins are down three to six, not that anyone is surprised at this point,” narrated Sarah sarcastically from behind you as the pitcher nervously experimented with the ball. “Ready to bat, Claybourne?”

“As I'll ever be,” you answered nervously.

“Remember. We got a lady on second and one on third. Heads up.”

She signalled the pitcher, whose pitch landed right where you needed it – you hit, and quickly dropped the bat and started running.

Without fully comprehending, you managed to just barely slide onto third base, your two runners safe.

Sarah flashed you a thumbs up from where she was crouched behind the next batter.

5-6.

You could do this.

The next girl – number 48, whose name you couldn't quite remember – stepped up, rotating the bat over her shoulder confidently, before hitting it low, giving you just enough time to run home as she stepped onto first base.

“That's what I'm talking about!” Sarah clapped. “Tied. One inning left. Let's see if we can win this shindig.”

You frowned at her sudden turn around from the earlier pessimism. “But I thought you said-”

“Shhhh. Don't sour this rare moment.”

Taking a seat on the bench, your eyes searched out a familiar face in the crowd, landing on Hi.

When he realized you had seen him, your boyfriend held up a hand and waved eagerly, the other offering a thumbs-up.

Idiot. You'd told him not to come – that it was only your first game of the season, that you probably wouldn't even be playing that much, and that there was a good chance that you would lose – but you should have known he'd come anyway.

Smiling even as the next batter struck out and the inning ended, you set out with a new sense of hope.

You wouldn't let Hi down.

“Aaaaand she's in!” Number 30, whose last name you were about certain was Young, barely managed to get the last point you needed, finishing up the game during the bottom of the ninth at 7-6. “And there we have it! Our fabulous Griffins pull out victorious! It's all Claybourne's fault!”

You blushed at Sarah's praise. “No it's not.”

“Fine. Half of our points are Claybourne's fault!” She ruffled your hair, easily falling into step with you as the team made for the change rooms. “Not bad out there, especially not for your first game. Your running? God speed. Not to mention that fly ball you managed to catch to get Dearborn out on what otherwise would've been a home run. Amazing, even if now she'll bitch about it on Friday.”

“Friday?” you repeated.

“Yep. She doesn't know it yet, but we're going out again. Two months running.” She grinned, before casting you a stern look. “I may like you so far but I will shove that bat so far down your throat if you have a problem.”

“No, no, I'm good with it.”

“There's my pro!” exclaimed Hi, hugging you tightly as you walked out of the change room.

“Even athletes need to breathe.”

“Right, sorry.” He released you with a wide smile. “I don't know too much about softball but based on Wikipedia and my rich history in childhood Wii Sports I'd say your triple saved the game.”

You rolled your eyes. “I told you not to come.”

“Since when do I listen? No regrets. You were awesome out there. You got a ride home?”

“Yeah, Chance will be waiting.”

“Ahh, wouldn't want to keep him waiting. I'll text you. Love you!” He kissed your cheek with a loud, wet smack before jogging off as you repeated the last words back to him.

You walked slowly back to where you Chance had said he'd wait for you in the parking lot.

Curiously enough, he was nowhere to be found when you arrived – only a tall girl leaning against one of the columns, texting.

“Well, I've no clue where you got it from, but you're pretty damn good, kiddo.”

It took you a moment to place the voice.

“Mom.”

The same woman who'd raised you, sent you out to Charleston to stay with your father when she started going through college, and you hadn't seen since.

The same woman who'd had you young because of a drunken one night stand but still raised you, working several jobs and never accepting the help that Hollis Claybourne had offered until you insisted that you wouldn't think any less of her if she finally got her college education and had you stay with your half-brother and father.

The same woman you hadn't seen in almost four years.

Here.

You ran into her arms, feeling yourself begin to tear up. “How did you-?”

“You're so tall. Is that makeup I see? Honey, you've changed so much.”

“You're still taller than me,” you retorted, crossing your arms for just a moment before throwing them around her again. “Why didn't you tell me you were coming out here? I would've, I dunno, made plans?”

“Oh, come on. I wasn't about to miss my favorite daughter's first softball game.”

“I'm your only daughter.”

She pulled you tighter into her chest. “And thank Jesus for that. What's new, honey? We haven't talked in so long. How's the infamous boyfriend? That still going on? Any hormonal changes?” You felt her chest rise in a small gasp. “You hadn't even had your period yet when I sent you out here. Oh, no, you had your first period with nobody but your father and your brother, you poor thing-”

“Mom.”

“Right, right.” Your mom pulled back, holding you at arm's length and looking you over. “I've got my car, I'm driving you home. Don't worry, Chance knows, it's not like I'm abducting you or anything. We'll spend so much time together you'll grow sick of me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Please. As if that's going to happen.”

Holding up a list you had just printed, you carefully stuck wink-eyed stickers onto the calendar in the hallway just outside the kitchen.

“What are you doing?”

Without turning, you answered, “Softball practice schedule for the month of April.”

“Seems busy. What do all the other stickers mean?”

You took a step back. “Let's see. We have the little ones with the crossed out eyes and tongue out – the dead ones – for nights on which Chance is supposed to cook. The heart eyed faces are for date nights, happy faces for study sessions.”

“Happy faces?”

“I only have so many emoji stickers!” you huffed in mock exasperation.

“So, you already have dates planned. When do I get to meet this boyfriend of yours?”

You stopped, almost dropping the sticker roll. “You... want to meet him?”

“Honey, how long have you been dating? Since, what, sophomore year? It's been two years and I have no clue what your boyfriend even looks like. Invite him to dinner. Chance knows him, why don't I get to?”

You nodded slowly. “I mean. I guess I have met his parents.” And that was... interesting.

But it would be different if it was with your mother.

Namely because they both love me and they both seem inclined to embarrass me no matter the circumstances.

“I'll cook,” she offered.

“Okay. Fine.”

Grinning, your mom hugged you tight. “Love you, honey. He's Jewish, right?”

“How do you know?”

“I know these things.”

She drifted past, plucking the sticker roll from your hand despite your protests. “What're you doing?”

“Me? I'm taking these away until you, young missy, call up that Hi of yours and invite him to dinner Thursday night.”

“Thursday? That's tomorrow.”

“Want these stickers back?”

You sighed, grabbing your phone off the counter and flipping through your contacts, hesitating over Hi's contact name.

“Don't you dare try and get out of this by calling someone else. Don't make me look over your shoulder.”

Laughing, you finally dialled the number, feeling your heart race as you heard the ringing. “Put it on speaker,” your mother asked, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Do I have to?”

“I don't ask so much, now, do I?” You relented, wincing as Hi's voice came on the phone.

“What's up, daddy?”

“Hi!” Cheeks flushing red, you hissed, “You're on speaker!”

“So? Chance won't kinkshame me.”

“Hi, my mother's in the room.”

The line went silent for a moment.

Then, “I'm sorry, I must have heard you wrong. You mean to say your brother is in the room, right?”

“No, Hi. My mother.”

“Since when is your mother in town?”

“Since yesterday.”

“Cool! Hi Y/N's mom! I'm sure you're a lovely person with a bad taste in men!”

Alarmed, you glanced up to see your mom laughing. “I mean, he's not wrong. Go on, ask him.”

“Hi, do you wanna come to dinner tomorrow?”

“Dinner? You know the way to my heart, babe. And the artist who created my masterpiece will be there?”

Rolling your eyes, you answered, “Yes, my mom will be there. She wants to meet you.”

“Oh.”

You frowned, leaning your head to the side. “You still there, Hi?”

“Yeah, still here, still here. Always here. Always watching, always waiting. You know, we haven't gone to the park in a while. Wanna walk with me tomorrow?”

“Sure,” you answered.

“Great. I'll see you then. Love, you babe!”

“Love you,” you responded almost instinctively, confused. “Wait, are you going to-?”

The call ended.

“Ooooooh, trouble in paradise?”

Taking the sticker roll back, you didn't answer, confused.

What's up with him?

“Hey, babe, how's it going?” asked Hi, kissing you on the cheek as he met with you at your locker.

“Good,” you answered, grabbing your bag and stuffing your textbooks in. “How about you?”

“To be quite honest, I'm rather scared.”

You whipped around so fast that your bag swung and nearly hit him in the face. “You? Scared? And admitting it? What's wrong? Are you okay? Are you running a fever? Where was our first date?”

He laughed. “I'm fine, on our first date you broke up with me, and I'm nervous, really.”

“About what? Something happen?”

“About meeting your mother.”

You surveyed him for a moment. “You're serious.”

“Actually, I'm Hi.”

“You're nervous about meeting my mom.” You almost laughed at the thought. “Why?”

“Why?” Holding open the door to the school, your boyfriend cast you a bewildered look. “Because the girl whom I love and have been dating for over two years just invited me to dinner with the woman who raised her, who I know essentially nothing about.”

“What, and you think meeting your mother wasn't worse?”

“You'd met her before, though!”

“Yeah, once or twice,” you scoffed, glancing around as you crossed the parking lot. “She's really a lot to get used to. My mom, on the other hand, will do whatever it takes to embarrass me. The two of you will get along just fine. She already loves you.”

Hi shook his head. “Okay, look, Y/N, consider it this way. This-” he held his hands about a foot apart “-represents the spectrum of awesome. Let's say this is 1-” he waved his right hand “-and this is 10. Now, Chance lies about here. I'm not giving negative numbers out, but if I was, he'd have earned one. Ben's probably around the middle, Tory a little higher. I give Shelton a solid seven. Coop's probably an eight.”

“Wow. Coop ranks higher than your closest friends. He must be a good boy.”

“He is definitely a good boy.” Hi nodded, before shaking himself to refocus. “Anyway, you sit at a solid ten, only because there's no higher number. Now, I'm probably about a nine. Your mom? Raised you up to a ten, therefore she must also be a ten. Do you see where I'm going with this?”

“No, not at all. Unless you're saying my mom is too awesome for you.”

“That's exactly what I'm saying!” exclaimed Hi, almost walking into a stop sign. “She intimidates me. I made a joke about her taste in men. She's gonna hate me.”

“Hi, my dad was a one night stand. She laughed at your joke, and she's gonna love you, okay? You two have a... similar sense of humor. Do it? For me?”

He grinned reluctantly. “Anything for you, Y/N.”

“Y/N, honey, what took you so long?”

“It's the same walk home as always, mom,” you answered with a laugh. “Mom. This is Hiram Stolowitski.”

“Hi,” he interjected, sticking out a hand. “I go by Hi, that is. And the greeting too, I guess. Hi, Y/N's mom.”

She smiled. “I've heard a lot about you. I'd say 'come in' but you're already inside and this isn't even my house. Y/N, take over the pasta, stir occasionally. I'm going to talk to your first crush-”

“Mom, shut up!” you interrupted, flushing red as she continued to talk.

Let's hope she doesn't irreversibly ruin me in his eyes.

“Your mom is so tall,” commented Hi, the three of you sat around a table that you hadn't even known existed.

Apparently, your mother knew this house pretty well, even if its owner was only a one night stand.

“And you're so short... do you get it from your dad's side? Did he have a short-”

“Hi! You're in front of my mother!” you hissed, feeling your face heat up.

She only laughed, which made the situation worse. “I won't say, but he sure didn't know how to use-”

“Mom,” you whispered, putting your head in your hands. “My ears are bleeding.”

Your mother leaned over to stage-whisper to Hi. “It's no wonder the condom broke.”

Covering your eyes, between the gaps of your fingers you saw him look to you. “Ah, well, happy accident.”

“You two combined,” you murmured, “are less mature than I am.”

“Oh, honey, if I'm even remotely insane it's your fault,” argued your mother, ruffling your hair.

Hi snickered behind his hand as you groaned.

“I can't believe you were worried about this, Hi. I'm obviously the only one who's being embarrassed here.”

He shook his head. “Nah, you take after her.”

“Oh no. Such an insult, I am wounded in my heart.”

“You don't have one,” quipped your mom.

“Nah, you really do,” insisted Hi. “You're both super nice.”

You didn't have to look at your mom to know she was flattered.

“I see why my daughter here likes you.”

“Please. Who couldn't like me?”

“Stop making my mom like you more than me.”

“That was so fun,” gushed Hi with a smile as you drove him home. “I can totally see the resemblance, aside from your height and your eyes and your facial structure and-.”

“I thought she was too awesome for you?” you teased, amused.

“Oh, she is. But in a good way. Like you. I love you even though I don't deserve you.”

Thrumming your fingers on the steering wheel, you fought the urge to roll your eyes at his cheesiness, adding, “I'm glad you got to meet her. And you didn't mess up as badly as you thought you would, so that's a plus, isn’t it?”

“For sure.” He gazed out the window, watching the river as you crossed it, the calm waters only lit by the moon. “You'd be good at it, you know.”

“At what? Meeting my mom?”

“No, no! At being a mom.” You turned to him, and almost immediately, your boyfriend blushed. “N-not to say that we should have one – I mean, like, we're still in high school – I mean, we could always do the – not to pressure you, I mean – why did I even start talking? Oh, look, it's my stop.”

You laughed. “Dork. I'll see you tomorrow?”

“If I haven't died yet of embarrassment,” he answered, pointing finger guns at you before unbuckling his seatbelt. “Thanks for driving me home, Y/N. I love you.”

“Love you too,” you responded, smiling as he cupped your cheek and quickly pressed his lips to yours.

He got out, and you watched his figure retreat, a hand resting over the gear shift but not changing it just yet, musing to yourself.

Would we be good parents?

There was absolutely no denying that you had considered, well, sex – after all, the two of you had been in a relationship for longer than two years, and had already dropped the 'l' bomb.

But actually going through with it? Another story entirely.

Not to mention, what if Chance heard us or something happened?

You were an accident, and you didn't want to be stuck with one, either.

Finally, you shifted into drive, letting the moonlit road take over your thoughts.

A/N: Thanks for reading. Hit me up with your thoughts! Part three is here!

#virals series #hi x reader #hiram stolowitski x reader #hi stolowitski x reader #hiram stolowitski #hi stolowitski #chance claybourne #reader insert #female reader insert #okay this was a lot of dialogue #the next one is gonna be fun though!#thanks for reading #shut up addi

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putittosleep-blog · 8 years

Text

Black and White.

Flick.

The click and immediate heat of my lighter has somehow become therapeutic for me over the years.

Through the ups and downs of attempting to quit this nasty habit since the day I graduated high school plagued me. What started as a bout of teenage rebellion began something I, almost ten years later, could not seem to break.

I’d never get addicted to this shit. I got this.

Ha. Yeah, right.

My New Year’s resolution has been somewhat successful. Drinking and smoking have certainly coddled me through a lot of stress and celebration during college and beyond, but I guess this year I just got tired of the bullshit. I’ve only slipped up a couple of times, I swear. Okay. Maybe that’s not true either. The drinking cessation is easy as hell, but smoking...well, that’s another story.

Hiding my sneak smokes from my girlfriend the last two months hasn’t been too hard considering she lives 30 minutes away and I can go long enough without nicotine for 48 hours without becoming a raging, anxiety-ridden bitch. When we started dating last July, she expressed her disgust in a polite way, but I knew she hated that I smoked. She was the biggest reason, well, the reason I decided to try quitting again.

I pass the same Powerball billboard everyday on my way home from work. I began taking this way shortly into my stint at my current job; a 40 hour a week excuse to lose myself in music and audiobooks. The work was pretty easy, although it proved to be monotonous more than anything. Several times a day, I daydream. My mind flies along a journey of my band reaching stardom, my girlfriend someday telling me she wanted to get married even though in real life she abhors the idea the marriage, and winning the lottery. I pass by this same billboard at least five days a week and never bring myself to some shithole gas station to try my luck.

This seemed to be the pattern of everything else in my life for the last few years. Ideas of grandeur swirl in my head. When they hit, I’m ready to put in work. Ask me again in a few hours, though. Basically, I’m clueless and wonder why I ever thought I could bring success into my life somehow.

It’s like I’m stuck in this perpetual idea circle of death. I could be anything: a famous musician, a writer, a producer, an actor...the list goes on and on. Most days I wish I was really good at one thing so I knew what the fuck my life’s purpose was. This shitstorm has been a recurring issue since I can remember.

Ninth grade me was so certain of what she wanted: A doctorate from a cool liberal arts college with a small private practice counseling people who suffered from ailments she never knew she’d suffer from as she got older. Hm. That’s another thing. I need to see a psychologist. Another thing to put on the list that will never get done.

How did I even get here? What the hell is “here”, anyway? Here I am at 26 and I’m...normal. I’m fucking normal. I live a 9-5 life, tell everyone I’m in a band (a really good band that seems to lack any organization or motivation as of late), and someone who just flies under the radar pretending to know how to adult. Ninth grade me would fucking laugh so hard. Ninth grade me would be so pissed. Fuck that: I’m pissed now.

I take another secret drag off a cigarette from a fresh pack I bought today that I told myself I wouldn’t buy for the sixth time this year. Yes, I’ve counted. I’m going through these things like crazy for someone who claims to have stopped smoking. I’m just a fuck up these days, it seems.

God. If someone read this right now, they’d think I was writing some sort of suicide note. I digress.

Anxiety’s been high today. The often described “impending sense of doom” when speaking of anxiety sufferers is fucking real, y’all. So real. The pit in my stomach was huge last night. Not sure if it was my typical anxiety surrounding the very strange (to me, at least) relationship I have with my girlfriend that often gives me “she loves me, she loves me not” vibes on the daily, or if it was the text that one of my bandmates sent last night saying he “wasn’t prepared to practice”. That was strange of him. He’s the one always lecturing the bassist and me about not being prepared. For once, it was him and for once, it was weird. I resorted to meditation last night to calm the swarm of hornets in head. That seemed to help.

I’m always in my fucking head. It’s all I can remember. I’m never able to enjoy anything because I’m thinking about the future and the consequences of everything I do. I’m thinking of what other people are thinking.

How do I look? Did I just say something really stupid? Are they gonna talk about me as soon as I walk away to go to the bathroom?

I could go on, but this is just a preview of what’s going on in my head. I acknowledge this isn’t uncommon at all, but I feel like it is for me because I was so happy growing up. An empath for sure, but I was truly happy.

That fuck almost hit me. Watch the road, asshole.

At this point, I’m about five minutes away from home. I’ve done so much thinking that I feel like I haven’t even looked at the Interstate since I was deep in thought.

Maybe I should stop and get that Powerball ticket. I’m tired, though.

Literally lol’ing at me saying I’m tired. I do nothing all day. I sit in a chair, put myself through mental agony with my own insecurities, and get my job done. How could that possibly take anything out of me? Lately I’ve begun to see the toll of my stress and anxiety on my body. I don’t want to do anything except retreat to my computer or bed, whether that is to FaceTime my girlfriend and watch Buffy (what an amazing series) or just listen to music and lose myself in Wikipedia articles. The older I get, the more I hate being around most people. If you took a peek at my very public and busy Facebook page, you’d think differently. I’ve got 1100 “friends” and try to stay engaged, although my new-ish job has luckily taken me away from posting so much since I actually enjoy being so busy that I can’t rely on social media for entertainment most of my day. Seriously though, I’m so over people. Maybe with the election of an Oompa Loompa, I’ve started to see how ugly people can be. People I once called “friends”. Either way, I enjoy my retreats. My retreats have affected my desire to create. Most of the time, save for times like these where I need to write just about everything out to make sense of it, I just have no motivation. I could practice that new drum lick I saw on Instagram, but I’d rather watch Netflix. Like...what the fuck is that? That is so not me. I hardly recognize myself anymore. It’s like that stupid meme, “Why are you like this”?

Seriously, though...Why ARE you like this?

I roll into my neighborhood and am welcomed back into reality again noticing a nicely dressed guy with hair like my brother’s walking.

Clearly that guys isn’t a Jehovah’s witness. He ain’t got no Watchtowers or nothin’. Shit, I need to do something physical. I’m really tired, though and I need to write. I’m really in my thoughts today. Maybe I should work on writing a song. Maybe look at buying new gear. I need drum heads anyway.

The rocks crunch against my tires as I enthusiastically pull into the driveway, get out of the car, and walk in. I grab a pack of Gushers and almost immediately head to my computer to sit here and write this.

Today, I realized that I literally have no idea what the fuck I’m doing but I get up everyday and do what needs to be done to survive. That is living. Well, that’s what living is for me right now, on this day, at this time. However, life is cyclical. We are all evidence of that. Life isn’t always supposed to be about having the best day everyday. It’s about just doing the shit you need to do to get by sometimes. Sometimes we just don’t have the daily dose of high energy to make everyday awesome. That’s what makes our memories, though. Those days were things just happened to turn out. While I’m not happy that it seems like I’ve been living this black and white lifestyle forever, I remember a time where it wasn’t like that.

I don’t know who the hell this writing is going to reach, but to the few people who may find it: I hope you find some solace in this. Life is fucking mundane as shit sometimes. You may pass that billboard for a whole year, but your life could change the one day your brain finally convinces you to buy the Powerball ticket. You life could change that one day you decide to write. Or hell, it may not. That was cheesy as fuck. What I’m trying to say is we’re all due to run through these cycles where the world feels like it’s black and white all year round. You can’t force your way through it.

I am allowing myself to feel what I need to feel. It’s hard, but I’m learning so much about myself by welcoming these feelings of sadness. That acknowledgement of those feelings has helped me to realize what things hold importance in my life.

It is okay for your priorities to change.

I’ll write that again.

It is okay for your priorities to change.

As I’ve written all of this, that thought dawned on me and I think I may have finally understood the root of a lot of my problems.

I should do this more often.

#i wrote a thing #just getting thoughts out #writing #personal #life #cycle #priorities #change #mundane #black and white

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