#I think I got all her art but they cycled through the pictures too fast

[artistantlers]

She’s. So. Cool.

[whump-town]

In With The New, Out With The Old

Hotch packing Jack up for college

None of it feels real.

For two years after he and Haley divorced he lived in an apartment of boxes. It was some sort of punishment he created for himself while also creating a dissonance he could be lost in -- that he didn’t need to unpack just in case. He had his suits in the closet, his work would not take the fall for his personal life’s failings. The coffee maker sat on the counter, one of the only appliances hooked into a light socket. The necessities followed -- two mugs for coffee, a glass tumbler for the whiskey sitting on the counter, and one plate for when he ordered take-out he couldn’t just eat out of the box.

It had taken him months to buy a mattress, he was perfectly miserable sleeping on the couch. He had only taken Jack to the apartment once, needing to switch into more park-appropriate clothing. Between them, he and Haley agreed that the best thing for Jack was consistency so he would spend all day with Hotch but he would always go home to Haley. He knew this could be used against him in court, Haley could take Jack from his so easily it terrified him but he also knew he’d let her. He was more powerful, he had more strings to pull and more people on his side but the thought of getting on the stand and having his friends call her a bad mother made him feel even worse. So he knew that if it came down to it, he would let Haley have Jack rather put either of them that sort of grueling case.

This was a shared thought between them. Both are aware of the other’s power over the other. Neither will act on their own.

He had only bought a mattress because of New York. Limping home he’d sunk down into his old faithful couch only to wake up the next morning with achingly stiff sutures in his leg and his face stuck to a throw pillow, the blood drying like glue. He had to call Emily and Derek that afternoon. Unable to drive himself with his concussion and consequential blurred vision Emily had come over to pick him up, never said a word about what he’d been sleeping on in the months before. Neither did Derek when Hotch got too dizzy coming up the stairs, the stitches in his leg bleeding through his jeans and so pale Emily had to hold him upright to get him to the bench in the lobby. He was left there, listening to Derek and Emily bicker their way into forcing the mattress into the apartment through the pounding sound of blood rushing in his ears.

That was years ago and yet they’ve created its mirror image once again in his living room.

All of Jack’s belongings in boxes spread out in every room of the house. Packing up to leave.

“Art?” Emily mumbles disapprovingly. She’s knelt down in front of Jack’s bookshelf, dismantling the organized shelves to pack them into boxes. It’s a different method than the one that Hotch uses. Jack has them categorized by author and general theme and as Emily takes down all the books she’s gotten him about cults and psychology and crime she can’t help but feel a little cheated. Jack knows all about crime. He’s had Macdonald’s Triad memorized since he was five -- could give that method of thought its critical analysis as not a precursor to antisocial or serial killer behavior but more as a demonstration of a child’s poor coping skills or as the indicator of a dysfunctional home environment. He’s a well of information about cults, knows the “B.I.T.E.” system.

And he’s throwing all that away because Hotch took him to too many museums as a child?

Jack doesn’t say anything when he hears her grumble about art again, he’s had this conversation so many times. He knows she’s not really mad and she’s not even that irked but she needs to do something with the feelings she has about him leaving and this is just the best way she’s come up with. Better than crying -- which she’s also done far too much of.

“I think art is a great idea, kid.” Derek teases his hair as he passes, sweaty and hot from dragging Jack’s belongings around the place.

Hotch works slowly where he’s been assigned. They all work around him. He’s more freelance than the others. His job is to do what he can and leave the rest for someone else. Today his physical capabilities are not in the way. Derek does all the heavy lifting that Hotch knows is supposed to be assigned to him, it’s his duty as the father of the freshman moving away. He finds himself in the living room, one of Haley’s old photo albums on his lap. Thumbing pictures he can remember going with Haley to print. Pictures he can remember being in. Ones that he took.

He’s crying again.

Emily comes out with a box of books on her hip, having figured out the perfect ratio of books to box to prevent them from falling out the bottom. She sees Hotch wiping his face with a tissue, hiding away but unable to fully pull away right now. The hurt raw. The fear is too much.

The second that Hotch got the chance he left home and never came back. Over the years he returned to his hometown only when he had to -- when Haley’s parents couldn’t be convinced to come to see them. It didn’t matter how down bad he was, Hotch did it on his own. When his mother died when he was thirty he’d talked to her only once since moving out. Then it had only been for the benefit of Sean, who he had driven all the back to Virginia to collect and drove to college.

He fears Jack will do the same and it terrifies him in so many ways.

His own death will come quickly, he knows he’s only made it this long because he’s not alone. Without Jack, there’s no reason to keep going on, not with the way his body aches from years of abuse and neglect. More than that, he knows what growing up that fast did to him. As a child, the things that happen to you are out of your control. Children are sponges, not yet able to take control and mold themselves. So their reactions to abuse and neglect and even just trivial everyday things are but a reaction they are taught to form or never corrected on. But Hotch never corrected his behaviors as a young adult. He couldn’t bring himself to trust anyone, not at twenty, or thirty, and still at forty.

He spent his twentieth birthday on the side of the highway in a broken down car freezing his ass off with negative twenty-three cents in his bank account. No one to call because he couldn’t bring himself to believe anyone would come -- but Haley would have, or Jessica, or the sociology professor who gave him his number for emergencies or “just anything you can think of, just in case you need me”.

He doesn’t wish anything like that on Jack.

The cycle of self-destruction and fear and loathing.

But Jack knows how to form healthy relationships with people. He’s more worried about Hotch.

The car ride is nearly silent.

Jack cranks his window down and lays his head on the seal, lets the wind blow his hair back from his skin, and closes his eyes. There’s no air conditioning but it’s not that bad. The air has cooled off, the thunderstorms taking over the area sucking the humidity from the air as the wind picks up. It’ll get bad again in a day or so but today is nice and Jack wants to enjoy it. To sit contently with his dad and just try to soak it in before he’s thrown into the world of college.

Emily had promised him several times she’d make sure that Hotch didn’t turn himself into a hermit. Jack has grown up watching those two spar off so he knows she’s perfectly capable of getting Hotch out of the house. More than that, Jack knows he’s just going to miss his dad.

“Please--” Jack’s in the middle of trying to reorganize his stuff when he sees Hotch come in with one of the big boxes, one of the heavy ones. “Dad!” Jack takes it from him, not listening to Hotch’s complaint about being able to carry a few boxes. That he won’t break that easily. “Please, just leave the heavy stuff to Emily and Derek. Help me put my clothes away? Please?”

He nearly cries again folding Jack’s t-shirts away. Once upon a time, Jack’s shirts were about the size of his hand. Tiny delicate little things about the size of rags. Now he’s wearing the same size as Hotch, a grown man standing there racing to beat Emily to the heavy stuff because he doesn’t want her lifting it all either.

“Well,” Derek announces, setting the minifridge down, “that’s the last of it.”

Emily offers Hotch her hand and he takes it, grunting as he moves his body back upright.

“Well,” he declares, looking around the room. “We’ll leave you to it. Let you get everything sorted out how you like.” Hotch smiles and Emily and Derek step in to take their hugs, imparting half-wise ideas and a no-questions-asked ride home from anywhere.

“I love you,” Hotch says, he’s quick because he knows he can’t keep his composure if he stays here for too much longer. “I’ll send you care packages, you’ll just have to text me if you think of something I don’t send.”

Jack nods, pretending to make himself busy putting away the rest of his clothes. Trying to downplay his own feelings.

“Ok.”

Hotch nods and they leave, he doesn’t want to make a scene. They’ve hugged and Jack needs to unpack. He’s done. He’s only two doors away when he hears Jack’s door gets thrown open.

“Dad!” Hotch turns and stumbles, an armful of the little boy who was once the size of his forearm. He squeezes Jack tight, laughing through his tears when Jack holds on. “I love you too.”

Hotch holds him for a solid minute, just balanced there with his hand on the back of Jack’s head. “Alright,” he whispers. He sniffles a little, smiling as he cups Jack’s cheek wiping away a tear with his thumb. “I’m just a phone call away, okay? Any time of the night, you know where I am. You’ll be fine. You’re going to make mistakes and you’re going to fail tests and cry over boys and drink too much but you’ll be okay. And-- And if you’re not…”

Jack nods, smiling as he says, “I’ll call Emily.”

Hotch smirks, “well.. After a certain hour, yeah I suppose you’ll have to but yeah. Just call, okay?”

“I’ll call.”

Hotch nods and he has to force himself to let go and walk away. To let Jack do this.

They’re halfway down the hall, far enough away now that Jack won’t see or hear when Hotch starts to cry. He forces himself to keep going. Not to look back. Emily takes his hand, squeezes his fingers and he looks over at her tears in his eyes, and tries to smile.

Emily drives his truck home, she plans on feeding him chocolate and ice cream, and wine this afternoon to improve his mood. He gets a text and he smirks, he actually laughs.

“Let me know when you get home, old man. Tell Emily not to keep you out too late.”

[scenarioslovers]

Our Sin >> Jungkook, You (Part 4)

PLEASE READ ME FIRST : PART 1| PART 2 |PART 3 

Once upon a time, three friends loved each other very much, people thought they could pass as siblings. They promised to always stay loyal and never hurt each other no matter what. They promised to stay friends and never let anything ruin what they had for each other. Jungkook, Minju, and Y/N.

Two girls and one boy.

They swore that they wouldn’t fight over love because being together the three of them was the perfect calculation to have existed. Y/N fought her demons and hide her feelings for the boy who brightened up her life and gave her hope to keep going and face life. She couldn’t betray her friend’s trust and let such unwanted feelings to ruin everything.

That was until the last year of high school. When Jungkook and Minju came while holding hands.

Y/N tried so hard to deny all the signs. They could never betray her like this. They all swore on their friendship. However, Minju was blushing and wouldn’t meet her friend’s eyes. Jungkook was braver but he was shy to admit the truth. That they were already in love, leaving her alone, and totally ignoring her feelings.

Their hands will not break free.

Jungkook stuttering trying to form words. It was Minju who broke the silence and awkward moment. “Y/N, sorry. we can’t keep that from you for so long... we are dating.”

Y/N smiled faintly, trying so hard to hide the pain and tears from her eyes. Her efforts to keep the promised gone to air but she had to work harder for the friendship to never go away.

She couldn’t lose two of her friends, just because she is foolishly in love with someone who was in love with someone else.

“I knew it.” A forced chuckle skipped her mouth. “I already knew you would do that eventually. Congratulations, my friends.”

“Aren’t you mad?” Jungkook asked. A hint of surprise rose in his voice.

“I am happy for you.” Y/N nodded at her friends. “Our friendship is stronger than this. I know it is.”

At that time, the three friends didn’t know that their trip of sins would start.

They didn’t know that breaking that promise back then when they were just young and wild would bring them all the unfortunate events and bad feelings. Lies and breaking promised were a cycle that the three friends didn’t stop doing.

_____________

Two weeks after Y/N left.

 Jungkook couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened.

Minju wouldn’t answer his calls and Y/N left for a new start even though he wondered if you would be able to get it. He couldn’t stop thinking about you ever since you Left. He wished he could turn back time and make different decisions.

Like how he shouldn’t have hide after hearing about your pregnancy. He shouldn’t have asked for time to think about it. He knew that he loved you and he was so ready to have a life with you. However, Minju always appeared in his mind like a haunting ghost. Blaming him for stopping loving her when she was ready to fully love him. He thought he loved Minju too.

God, he loved Minju but when he saw your tears his heart ached as if thousands of knives decided to stab him in the heart at the same time with no mercy.

His heart ached for you and only you.

He was just too stupid to realize how important you were in his life before. He thought Minju was the answer.  

When he first asked Minju out, Y/N popped in his mind smiling brightly at his silly jokes. He pushed that memory away, back in the days he thought he felt sorry for you, for breaking that silly promise they made for each other. He didn’t want to hurt his childhood friend because he fell in love with her best friend.

Your reaction at that time surprised him, yet put him at ease. Maybe he shouldn’t have thought about it too much. That’s what friends are for.

Nevertheless, he was wrong.

You indeed were hurt considering that now he knew how you felt about him. He hated himself more than anything.

Looking at the ceiling of his room, his eyes fell on the stars you had helped him in decorating his room with before. A small smile formed on his lips as tears blurring his vision. He couldn’t believe he let himself be a coward and lose you in the thin air like this.

A vibration coming from his phone made him threw his body in a sitting position. He caught himself hoping it was from you. However, disappointment yet fear washed over him when he saw the name in capital letters and a heart beside it. MINJU.

--Let’s talk! I don’t like to leave things unfinished.

He knew what she meant from her text. She was breaking up with him. However, the Minju he knows wouldn’t let be unless she heard it from him.

-Meet you in 20 minutes. Our regular place.

Jungkook texted back

--Tsk, I wish you didn’t reply so fast. See you there.

First thing, first, Jungkook was determined to confess all of his sins, but he wasn’t going to ask for forgiveness. As the person who should hear it could no longer receive it.

__________________

Everyone deserves a chance to start a new life that was meant to change from them. And that was your decision when you left your best friend; who now hate to hear your name and the one whom you truly love.

They say if you have a guy friend you should never ever fall in love with them. Now, you knew why. Simply you didn’t just lose your long time crush, you lost your secret keeper and the one who tried his best to be a good friend.

A part of you didn’t want to take the whole blame, however you decided to be the bad one when you decided to get rid of the baby.

You wanted to erase everything. It pained you so much to look in the mirror and think of the possibility that you could have been a mother.

You wrote the bad things you did for the past year in a white thin paper. Wanting to let them go and you wrote each one of them, thinking of the mess you cause because of it.

You looked at the list one more time:

1-  Slept with my best friend’s ex who is my close friend

2-  lied to Minju

3-  lied to jungkook

4- got pregnant

5- Took advantage of Jungkook in the loneliest moment in his life.

6- truly loved Jungkook knowing he didn’t love me and cared for Minju

7- I killed the baby

Whipping away the tears that started running down your cheeks, you crumbled the paper with your fist and threw it into the sea.

Today, after this moment, you will live only for yourself. You didn’t deserve to be a girlfriend to anyone or even a mom ever again.

You looked at the paper as it sank slowly into the deep blue water and disappeared. As you no longer could see it, you took a deep breath and promised yourself never to cry again or think about your sins ever. You were going to start a life that was only for yourself.

___________________

Three years later

“Teacher! Can you help me?”

One of your students approached you with a notebook as you were looking through the windows to the sea view beside the school. The cute little girl was more than four years old. You couldn’t help but think that your baby would have been as old as she was or a little younger. The girl was wearing a yellow dress that was filled with flowers everywhere. It made her look like an angel with her hair tied up into two ponies on each side. She was smiling at you excitedly as she pushed her notebook toward you. She was only four years old yet she cared so much about her art and classwork.

“Let me see, Hana.” You kneeled beside her as you opened her notebook. Her handwriting was huge and messy. You found them cute. Sometimes you secretly took pictures of your students' handwriting as a memory for you to keep. However, what Hana showed you, wasn’t an art or classwork. You looked at her handwriting in awe as you smiled so widely from ear to ear. She wrote you a letter.

I love you, teacher Y/N. You are the best teacher and I want to be like you when I grow up. You are cool and pretty. You are the best.

“Are you crying, Teacher?” Hana looked concerned as tears started to form in her eyes too.

You whipped the tears with the back of your hands so quickly as you shook your head, and laughed so that Hana stop making that sad face. “I am happy. Very happy, thank you, Hana.”

“You can take the paper. It is yours.” Hana said as she ripped the paper with the letter out of her notebook before running back to her class.

Working with kids, changed you a lot. After you decided to start all over again a new life, you moved to Jeju island and applied to be a kindergarten teacher. Fortunately, you got the job and you have been living a calm life ever since.

You folded the letter and put it in your bag. You had a box filled with love letters from your students. They were all so cute and loved to show love everywhere they go. These small letters like a cheer up treat to your lonely nights. Whenever thoughts and bad memories haunt your dreams, you would wake up to read all of them without getting tired.

When all the kids went home, you decided to go to the market instead of going home right away. You needed to shop for groceries as your fridge started to be empty.

Since Jeju island is so small, people knew each other. And living for three years in this small island made it easier for people to know you. Every shop vendor greeted you happily as the offered to show you their new products and goods. Everyone was kind to you and made you feel welcomed.

“Good afternoon, Y/N.” The fruit shop grandpa greeted you as you approached his shop.

“Grandpa, do you have apples?” You asked as you looked around for it. “I can’t see them.”

“They are inside, I changed their place as they keeping falling around everywhere.” He laughed as he explained how old he was for him to run after a rolling apple.

“You are still young, grandpa.” You complimented him and he cheered in confidence.

“You, young children, know what to say.” He handed you your apples and you paid him before turning around.

At that moment, the world started to tie up around you. Your lungs forgot how to breathe as you caught sight of the thing you wanted to avoid for as long as you were alive. Why are they here? Questions filled your mind and only one answered popped in your head.

RUN.

You turned so fast the other way around. It was so fast that you didn’t notice someone was behind you. You bumped into the fruit shop grandson, who had a crush on you. However, his strong arms held you in place, protecting you for accidents. “Y/N!” He exclaimed happily. He was so loud that blood went cold into your veins. When he noticed the horror in your eyes he looked at you worriedly. “Is something wrong?”

“I have to go. Talk to you later, Dojoon-shi” and started to walk as fast as you could. Dojoon called after you as you fastened your pace and started to run.

Why are they here out of all the places? What are they doing? They seemed like they are still together. Your chest tightened and your vision blurred as your legs wouldn’t stop.

Jungkook and Minju were in Jeju island. Minju was holding into Jungkook’s arm as he was looking at a necklace from the accessory lady.

The burning in your chest wouldn’t stop. When you reached home, you kicked your shoes away and walked straight to your room. Hands in hair, you pulled into it as you couldn’t stop thinking. Finally, after three years you learned how to move on. Did they come here looking for you? Is it coincident? How did they make up?

A part of you was happy that they could manage to stay together. Another part of you was broken over the fact that you had become the one who couldn’t be forgiven.

“Good for them.” You murmured to yourself. “At least now you can live without feeling guilty. You didn’t ruin their relationship at least.”

__________

“Jungkook, look at this beautiful necklace,” Minju said as she grabbed Jungkook’s arm as she stopped by a lady who was selling jewelry. The necklace charm took a heart shape with a moon and a star inside of it. Jungkook looked at it and couldn’t help but think of Y/N. A moon and a star. Two things that matched well with Y/N’s personality. She was the moon and the star that guided him during his darkest days. He felt her absence when she was gone. Technically she was around him as long as he could ever remember.

“It would look good on, Y/N,” Minju said, reading Jungkook’s expression.

Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise. Was he thinking out loud?

“It would look good on you too.”

“Eh, stop lying. It also reminded me of her the moment I saw it.” Minju sighed as she looked away from Jungkook. “Did you use to have the same expression while thinking of me?”

Jungkook groaned and Minju laughed. “Minju!”

“You didn’t have to protest like this. I am hurt.”

“Do you think we will find her?” Jungkook’s eyes were full of worry and anxiety.

“Emma said she saw her multiple times while she was on vacation here,” Minju said, shaking her head. “That only means one thing. She moved in her and lied to you.”

“Would she be happy to see me?”

“I—”

“Y/N!!!”

Before Minju could answer, a man shouted a name too familiar and unique to ignore. Minju and Jungkook snapped their head towards the voice. Only to find a man standing in the middle of the street, looking annoyed and sad and no one was in front of him.

Jungkook looked at Minju whose eyes grew in excitement. At least this could be the confirmation they need to know that their search wasn't a waste of time.

Jungkook walked over to the man, he looked around the same age as him. A small burn feeling rose in his chest. “Excuse me, do you know Y/N?”

“Teacher Y/N?” He looked behind him then back at Jungkook. “Yes, and who are you?”

“Her best friend,” Minju answered instead as she reached out for a handshake. “We are looking for Y/N. Can you help us?”

_____________

You couldn’t sleep last night, those dark circles were more visible than ever. Your skin was pale and dehydrated. You reached for a bottle of water as you gulped it down in one sip. You no longer wanted to go out of your house. Jeju Island was so small that there was a huge chance to run into them again. However, you still had a job and a life to live. Until when were you going to keep running away?

With a determined mind, you walked into your bedroom to get ready for a new day. It didn’t matter if you run into them. If that happened you would greet them with a smile, congrats them for being together again, and go on with your life that you choose to live. Or maybe...

Keep avoiding them.

The school you worked in was a few minutes away from your house. You liked to walk there every day as a form of daily exercise. People greeted you as you walked the streets. Elders, children, and young people, everyone was smiling at you, throwing random questions in your direction.

“How is your day, Teacher Y/N?”

“Have a nice day, Y/N”

“You will visit our shop today right?”

After a few seconds, the school gate started to appear. Two figures were standing by the gate. As you walked closer, the figures started to come clearer, colors became more vibrant, and the facial feature was stronger. You stopped in your place as you looked at your old friends. Jungkook was leaning on the wall, he seemed to be in deep thoughts while Minju stood in front of him, talking nonstop. They were standing in front of your school, probably waiting for you. Or why would they be here out of all places?

“Teacher. Y/N, why are you hiding behind a tree?” You looked down at the voice, to find Hana. Her small hands holding the strips of her back bag tightly as she looked at you with curious eyes.

“SHUSH!” You put an index to your mouth as you gestured for her to leave.

“Aren’t you going inside, Teacher Y/N?” She was unnecessarily too loud.

Glancing at Jungkook and Minju’s direction, your breath caught in your chest. They were looking at your direction. You took a deep breath before sighing slowly.

“Hana, darling, go inside or you will miss school.” You said to Hana as Jungkook and Minju walked towards you. “Please, Hana. I will follow you shortly.”

Hana huffed before walking to the school gate. Minju waved to her but Hana ignored her and kept walking to her destination.

“Are all your student brats?” Minju exclaimed as she stopped in front of you, beside her was jungkook who wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“Why are you here?” You asked and it sounded like you were annoyed.

“Someone kept crying every night missing you. It started to annoy me.” Minju sighed as she glanced at Jungkook at thew corner of her eyes. "Plus, that should be our question. What about the UK?"

“Look! I do not know why you are here guys. But I am trying to move on with my life here. Can you please just---?” You sounded harsher than you meant as you gestured for them to leave.

As you started to walk away, a hand reached for your wrist stopping you. You glanced up, to find Jungkook in front of you. Electric waves ran through your arms, reviving all your sensations. That what Jungkook’s touch could always do to you.

“Can we talk?” It was Jungkook’s first words to you. “Please.” The pleading voice and eyes filled with something glittering made you sigh deeply.

“After work. Okay? Wait for me by the cafe around the corner of this street.” You said as you pulled away from his grip. The sensation of his warm hand, still there. Reminding you that this is more real than you thought. “Can you leave now?”

“Let’s go,” Minju said as she locked Jungkook’s arms with hers. You watched as they walked away, bit your lower lip. Why did they come all the way here just to show me how good your relationship became?

This was your chance for a real goodbye. A chance to forgive the sins you all did.  A real closure to a friendship that was left hanging on bad terms.

to be continued...

___________________________

IT’S BEEN A WHILE! Hope you liked this part. 

[whoslaurapalmer]

utena manga AND adolescence manga!!!! the longest of any of my utena posts why did i have so much to say. 

-i do have to say that the box set is amazing. i’ve never owned hardcover manga before!! and the art is really beautiful and i love all the color illustrations....... -also came with a poster!! but i, don’t particularly want naked utena and anthy on my wall. 

-i always love utena, so much  -“it’s not shocking pink, it’s rose! it’s a nice color. i picked it out, after all.” babygirl  (-omg the explanation that there is a list of stylists that she could get uniforms from and at least she picked one on the list) -poor kaido.......he’s the true Pre-Series Friend Who Shows Up In The First Episode And Is Never Heard From Again Once The Plot Kicks In 

-i like that the manga has an explanation of how utena found ohtori academy because, you do wonder -- but i also like how she’s just There in the anime, with absolutely no explanation of how she got There, she’s just There and maybe she’s always been there!, re: time, it ultimately doesn’t matter, it’s where she wound up regardless  -the.......floaty dreaminess of it......... -uggg wait especially because even though it has been akio manipulating her around all this time she still doesn’t truly go to ohtori because of akio she goes because of anthy 

-i’m. look i don’t even want to say it cause this is a straight-up terrible nickname and i am in pain over it but i have to say something  -mr -mr l  -mr  -licky -lick  -i have to wonder how other people have translated that 

-me: hey that looks like he licked the tears off her face??? utena: i named him --  the narrator living inside my brain: and at that moment lulu vandelay considered launching a book across the room for the first time in her twenty-six years of life

-you know utena if your aunt got transfered to amsterdam, you still would’ve wound up at an ohtori academy  -what even happens at the ohtori in amsterdam??????????????  -what  -do they do an exchange program?? do they ever get anyone back??? is amsterdam also creating a world?????? or are they fine over there??? -is it alt universe ohtori???? 

-chu-chu is so fluffy!!!! so soft.......big squish........huggable............ -anthy making him a tie because she felt bad about him not wearing anything!!!! 

-THE MANGA MOVES VERY FAST HONESTLY -especially because i hit a point where i too was reading as fast as possible to get through it but there was still SO MUCH 

-no nanami????? no nanami at all??????? except for that one picture of her???????  -no???????  -look. i really love nanami and i didn’t realize how much i really liked her until she wasn’t there :( cause i liked her in the first place but i miss all her antics :( and i liked where her character arc went a lot :(  -she’s very loud about this but she’s really just that tumblr post that’s like ‘i put ‘i love salsa’ in the chat and no one said anything and i wondered if salsa had killed a parent or if salsa ever really existed’ and that’s relatable  -and the second-guessing embarrassment of every single thing in your life and yet the commitment to radical high-and-mighty confidence about the same exact things to compensate??? good for her!!!! 

-utena, with the power of dios: i can see every move! me: wow didn’t know dios had the sharingan 

-INTRIGUED actually by touga having. a secret room with a big fucking calendar with zodiac symbols and all the fights predetermined  -like there’s something super interesting about that  -like...... -on one hand a physical representation of The Plot Being Controlled. The Plot Has A Map Now. on the other hand, touga has to write it all down like a nerd bc he’s not akio and has no sway himself over the narrative and he needs a reference 

-i’m absolutely fascinated by how a group of people can come together and create The Same Story that is so different in the manga and the anime.....  -just. how  -in a good way and a bad way. in the good way, how do you collaborate with people like that????? in the bad way, how do you create two completely separate thematic takes on the same story  -with so many of the same base scenes!!!! they go completely different ways!!!!! i’m!!!!!!!!!!!! 

-oh i do love the character profiles. i like knowing birthdays!! 

-akio grabbing utena because he thought she was anthy

-it fucking goes from. ‘everyone in this manga wants to fuck touga’ to ‘everyone in this manga will support utena, EVEN TOUGA?????’ like wow  -he’s just.........living with them..................................... -like a creep  -AND HE JUST GIVES UP THE STUDENT COUNCIL PRESIDENCY THAT’S THE FUNNIEST FUCKING THING  -doesn’t take much to get them to break the system down here but they’re still not breaking the system down here  -oh my god it’s like the sad lemon man movie speedrunning the first 3 books and hitting the plot notes with none of the substantial theme  -it’s just, i don’t think the manga is completely terrible, like i think there are some interesting moments but i also know the common perception is The Manga Is Terrible? so i’m like. do i pick out the interesting things and try and give them meaning? or do i just. wholesale agree that this is, on a whole other thematic plane and terrible  (-my whole life is ‘i should be able to make my own opinion on something!’ vs ‘but i like to read other people’s opinions to make sure i don’t miss anything but that should not replace my own capacity for critical thought which i am clearly capable of and did a great deal of work on as a lit major!!’) (oh this is anxiety.) (it’s a lot of ‘i don’t want to misinterpret this in any way because that is a failure on my part so i’m digging around for explanations’ oh that’s still anxiety.) 

-i mean. the emphasis on ‘friendship’ more than anything with anthy is, disappointing, but i DO also like utena trying to get anthy to make friends and that anthy’s first instinct is to take after wakaba because that’s super cute 

-chu-chu narrating the curry story!!  -he’s just such a sweet bean. 

-utena: akio? the devil, lucifer? me, reigning my brain back in as it shoots into hyperdrive: okay lulu you’re right about the tarot symbolism but now is not the time, bring it back, girl  (......utena’s the fool nemuro hall is the tower the car at the end of the movie is the world anthy stabbing utena is the ten of swords (not in the sense of betrayal but in the end of the cycle/story portrayed in the swords suit)) (ANYWAY) 

-and then touga still somehow stays at the center of the story and utena relies on him....... -there’s a bigger reliance on men in the manga that is not, challenged at all, re: touga and dios -but at least akio’s still a full-on creep  -actually i think he unsettled me just a smidge more which was a big accomplishment, considering the time i almost fell over furniture 

-me: oh my god are utena and anthy gonna switch places???  me: NOOOOOOO -anthy’s coffin breaking because utena puts the ring back on....... -but, like........dios is completely incapable of action as well and utena doesn’t need him to rescue anthy  -dios is more some ethereal grand thing here instead of an idealized past self that akio has lost access to and can never regain and was never truly good in the first place  -although utena and anthy switching is, interesting. reinforces akio making utena a princess when again she’s neither and it’s.......a little “in the end, girls are all like rose brides” and women are manipulated around by men, but also, kind of loses what anthy holding the swords meant in the first place? 

-touga: you have to do it, utena me: touga stop trying to steal the scene. get out. get out now 

-THE CASTLE IS REAL????????????????????????? 

-okay the absolute roller coaster between ‘he’s gonna kill dios????’ ‘that’s the manga backstory?????’ ‘DIOS IS JUST DEAD NOW????’ ‘NO HE WAS STILL DIOS THE WHOLE TIME!!!!!!’  -oh but you know you could read it as a, killing your past self sort of thing -...........although that doesn’t really vibe here, does it 

-i think them being specifically ‘gods’ takes away from just the, cycle of humanity kind of thing........ -it’s so pleasantly vague in the anime because how dios came to be Dios and why anthy had to put a stop to it just doesn’t matter. it’s not what matters. it’s not what’s important. the fact that it happened at all is what matters.  -and somehow he still wasn’t dios the whole time!!!!!  -“she kept his sword in her bosom, one last token of her love!” that’s an.........interesting way to put it -i mean, yeah maybe?? but also, no?????????????????????????????? 

-anthy’s kind of, watered down a little in the manga too, in a way?  -STABBING UTENA WAS SO IMPORTANT TOO 

-noooooo where are my girls learning that it’s not about being a prince and that it’s just genuine love and being there for someone  -i mean i guess the love is here but. “i must be the prince myself” no!!!! noooooooooo  -you know what i don’t even want to THINK about akio and utena..........like that 

-AND THERE’S STILL TOUGA!!! IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ALL!!!!!!!!!! TOUGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA  -anthy: /wearing utena’s uniform me: /staring into the camera like i’m on the office 

-like...............well that just continues the cycle then, doesn’t it, in a way  -which, is its own kind of story.............. -and i guess you could also make a case for ‘well no one’s immediately recovered right after a story that takes time and it’s not always perfect and that could involve anthy emulating utena’ -BUT NO!!!! NO??????? NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  -i think that’s giving the manga too much credit considering how much it forced ‘the prince’ at the end!!!!!!!!  -i get it. i get the ‘the manga is terrible.’ i see you.  -it wasn’t, completely terrible, but, wow. i get it. 

-okay hold on i still have two side stories before adolescence

-OH ARE YOU KIDDING ME????? ONCE AGAIN I HAVE TO DEAL WITH RUKA  -WAS IT NOT ENOUGH THAT I HAVE ALREADY SUFFERED  -ruka i still hate you. that’s all i have to say on that 

-and black rose arc condensed to thirty pages????  -the way mikage acts towards mamiya is like. blatantly creepy in the anime but i didn’t think it was here???? rude.  -anthy and utena holding hands after it, though....... 

-OKAY, adolescence  -i feel like, i was unduly harsh on the movie...... -mostly because i was reading the youtube comments on the dub before i watched and people were talking about how terrible the dub was (i did not watch the dub)  -and i knew about the car and i was just really thrown by the car. the cars. just. unexpected  -but if the manga speedruns in a bad way the movie speedruns in a way that not only hit the plot elements but picked up a lot of the thematic elements as well!!  -i mean every arc was touched upon in some way! even the black rose arc! -which haunts me, regularly.  -also i am forever going to be thinking about the fwwm parallel like damn  -it really was a good time....... -oh! this in particular was why i was a little concerned about missing anything in thinking about the manga   -like...is this a bad character choice in good writing, or is this a bad character choice in bad writing? sometimes i’m not always great at that 

-anyway.  -the manga was really mostly the same except somehow touga was more uncomfortable, there were no cars, and utena and touga had sex uggg  -god i SWEAR when i was flipping through last week i saw a car though. i swear???? i thought i did?????  -guess i didn’t!! 

-touga: as long as you keep me there in your heart, i can continue to exist like this. i can stay at this school for all eternity.  me: The Grief™ vs ohtori academy doing its thing vs I HATE THIS AAAAAAAAA 

-anthy, to akio: be gone! you’re only in my mind! me: oh that’s a powerful statement though. re: like, how akio keeps anthy 

-what i DID really really love was the little scene at the end with anthy and utena out of ohtori and older in a planetarium theater after everything and being cute on a date (with chu-chu!) and that that’s how it ends (even if utena was still thinking about touga) with them holding hands walking out............... -the softness!!!! 💖💖 

[devinsfm]

joe keery. cis male. he/him.  ／  jack devin just pulled up blasting video killed the radio star by the buggles — that song is so them ! you know, for a twenty - four year old radio show host, i’ve heard they’re really impulsive, but that they make up for it by being so captivating. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say obscure vintage horror comics, blurry photographs of mysterious figures in the woods, and vivid descriptions of spine - chilling tales  . here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble ! ( sam, 23, est, she/her )

hey there, demons ! *ba tum tss* i’m sam and i never do this, but i really felt like it was time for a change, so i drew lots of inspiration from some of my favorite ocs and i love what i’ve come up with ! character info is under the cut and please feel free to message me if you would like to plot !

i. stats

𝔣𝔲𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢: jackson willard devin

𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰: jack, spooky guy, the night watchman 

𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫: salem, massachusetts

𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔥: ocotber 31st, 1995

𝔷𝔬𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔠: scorpio

𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: demisexual

𝔬𝔠𝔠𝔲𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: host of the graveyard shift, a radio program airing every weeknight from 12am to 5am

𝔭𝔬𝔰. 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔰: captivating, witty, resolute. 

𝔫𝔢𝔤. 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔰: impulsive, gauche, naive.

ii. history

jackson willard “jack” devin was born on halloween day ( yes, really ) in salem massachusetts ( yes, really ). his mother stayed home with him as he was growing up while his father is a boston cop turned sheriff of the county and he’s an only child.

outside of the popular tourist spots, his hometown has a very close - knit, stuck in the 80s vibe. it’s the sort of place where everyone knows everyone for their entire lives because no one ever leaves and no one new ever moves in. phone and internet signals are nearly impossible to come by, so the local arcade and the video store still have quite a booming business in the year 2020. jack grew up in a not - so - typical small town suburban gothic environment, his dad’s income being just enough for them to get by every month.

he was an energetic kid who cycled through all sorts of interests, trying out everything from little league ( disaster ) to music lessons ( not as much of a disaster, but he wound up getting bored of it ). nothing seemed to really stick until he got his first horror comic : a vintage issue of tales from the crypt with tattered, yellowing pages. he was five years old and paid five cents for it at an elderly neighbor’s yard sale and from that moment on he was hooked. it started with the comics, but he quickly expanded his horizons to movies, books, and television in the genre of horror.

he got intro drawing and that was the only thing besides his newfound interest in horror that he could sit still for. at first he would just try to re - draw the panels in his comic books, but soon he was drawing anything and everything that caught his interest and he was getting good. he was being homeschooled by his mother at the time, but once friends and family and, well, everyone took notice of his skill, they were encouraging his parents to nurture his talent.

his parents fought about it. his dad didn’t see the value in his skill and wanted him to instead focus on academics, aspiring towards his son one day becoming a lawyer or a businessman or even following in his footsteps. jack never wanted that for himself. he was homeschooled by his mom up until then and she believed in him. it was with her blessing that he would go to a real school for the first time at the age of fourteen, starting off his freshman year at a high school that was a thirty minute train ride away in boston and catered exclusively to youth who demonstrated an exceptional talent in some area of the fine arts.

jack did well in school, but his grades probably would have been a lot better still if he didn’t start purposely acting out as his relationship with his dad got worse and worse. he started skipping classes, getting caught trespassing in cemeteries at 2am, and smoking a lot of weed. 

when it came time for college, jack planned to attend art school. he swears he did. he looked a few schools on the west coast to get away from his dad for a few years yikes and planned to apply, but on the deadline date he got so high that he forgot to submit his portfolios. yes, really.

he loaded up his van ( a turquiose monstrosity he painted to look like the mystery machine ) and headed out to california anyway after telling his parents that he would be attending UCLA. of course, they quickly found it that it was a lie and his dad was furious. the two got into a huge fight over the phone and things were said. the result is that jack and his father haven’t spoken to each other ever since. 

he did lots of odd jobs while he was on the road and basically lived in his van, which didn’t change right away when he decided to settle in LA, but he eventually got a job fetching coffee for the late night employees at a local radio station.

it was the typical, cliché story : the regular late night host called out of work at the last minute, there was no one else around and they were going to be on air in ten seconds. jack was thrown in front of the microphone and told to think fast !

he did, and the listeners loved him for it. whether it was his ramblings about horror movies or his thick boston accent or his reckless use of swear words on live radio, he turned out to be a massive hit. the successful night earned him a gig as an occasional substitute deejay, and with each broadcast he grew more and more popular, and about two years ago he was finally given his own program.

the graveyard shift is a radio program that airs every weeknight from 12am - 5am in the los angeles area and on apps such as iheartradio. jack hosts the show as his ( thinly veiled ) alter ego the night watchmen and discusses topics such as the paranormal, conspiracy theories, and all things horror. it’s one of the most popular programs of the time slot in the country.

it’s something that he never expected or picturing himself doing, but now he can’t imagine doing anything else. he’s become really passionate about revitalizing the field and bringing radio into the 21st century. he signed a HUGE contract with the studio when his show first started and now he’s a quite well known radio personality in the area and across the country.

iii. extras

huge stoner. high as fuck 90% of the time, and the other 10% of the time he’s probably still high, just not as fuck. 

well known for his on air antics. he’ll light a joint in the middle of his radio show, he’ll prank call a friend and broadcast it to the entire city, he’ll curse in every single sentence and skate by on the after hours excuse when he’s reprimanded for it. he’s so outlandish and bizarre and like nothing that’s ever been heard on the radio before, and it just draws people in.

he often seems shy in person, but it’s more like he’s just a little socially awkward, something which also shines through in occasional non - malicious but blunt remarks and general lack of regard for what people think of him. he really just...doesn’t care.

genuinely seems to believe it’s either halloween day and / or the year 1986 at any given moment as that’s about as recent as his pop culture references get. he’s never heard of the k*rdashians, he doesn’t know what the mcu is, and the phrase yeet means absolutely nothing to him. mention any of it to him and he’ll just stare blankly bc he honestly doesn’t have a clue.

HOWEVER, he did start the area 51 meme from last summer.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

still draws. especially if he has to still for a stretch of time, then he’ll take out his latest sketchbook ( he goes through a lot of them ) and start doodling. he’s still quite good, mostly in his favored comic - esque style.

BIG CHAOTIC ENERGY and ZERO IMPULSE CONTROL

a chatterbox with friends but don’t be fooled...he’s been giving his own dad the silent treatment for almost seven ( 7 ) years now. it’s his preferred method of expressing anger towards someone because he isn’t really a fan of confrontation, but he’s maybe a liiiittle bit stubborn.

most of the time he’s a really easygoing person, a good friend and very loyal to the people he cares about. well - meaning, not the best at advice but he’s more likely to try and cheer a person up anyway. 

he has a pet pied ball python named the crypt keeper ( tkc for short ) who he sometimes just carries with him because he likes to just chill wrapped around jack’s hand and arm. 

iv. wanted connections

maternal or paternal cousins ( their grandparents probably live in boston or new england but otherwise anything goes for this )

close friends

friends

guests on his radio show 

fans / haters of his radio show

people who don’t like him / find him annoying

exes ( 1 - 2, can be on good or bad terms )

“casually dating” but it might get real complicated soon - allie james

( these are just ideas and i’m trash at coming up with stuff, so please don’t feel limited by what’s listed here. )

[dvrcas]

               * ╰    KATHRYN  NEWTON  ;  TWENTY  ;  SHE / HER  ——  wow,  DORCAS  MEADOWES  sure  has  grown  !  it’s  almost  hard  to  believe  they  actually  passed  recruitment…  i  still  remember  them  being  so  INTUITIVE  &�� OPTIMISTIC  now  they  just  seem  MATERIALISTIC  &  CAPRICIOUS.  guess  they’re  special  if  they  made  it  this  far.  word  in  the  halls  is  they’re  training  to  be  a  HIT  WITCH  but  i  don’t  think  they’ll  make  it  out  alive.  after  all,  they’ve  shown  signs  of  being  NEUTRAL  in  the  war.

PINTEREST

character  inspo:  amy  march  (  little  women  ),  shelby  wyatt  (  quantico  ),  glinda  upland  (  wicked  ),  rachel  green  (  friends  )

dorcas  louisa  ruth  meadowes  hails  from  old  money,  sweltering  summer  heat,  peaches,  spanish  moss,  and  crickets  at  dusk.  she  grew  up  in  the  american  deep  south,  the  baby  of  a  well-established  pureblood  family.  

with  four  older  siblings,  two  doting  parents,  and  a  fleet  of  nannies,  dorcas  was  never  in  want  of  attention.  basil  &  myra  meadowes  married  and  had  children  young  and  fast;  her  mother  had  dorcas’s  eldest  brother  when  she  was  only  twenty  one,  and  had  dorcas  (  the  youngest  )  five  years  later.  

(  her  siblings,  in  order:  montgomery,  or  monty.  the  only  boy,  aged  25.  clementine,  23.  the  twins,  willow  &  winona,  22.  and  last  comes  dorcas,  20.  )

their  parents  loved  them,  to  be  sure,  but  basil  &  myra  were  never  much  for  hard  work;  the  nannies  dealt  with  diaper  changes  and  crying  toddlers  and  scraped  knees.  

but  when  the  sun  was  shining,  the  meadowes  would  gather  their  offspring  and  spoil  them  rotten  with  picnics,  and  weekends  at  their  beach  home,  and  banquets  with  all  basil  &  myra’s  friends.  and  so  all  dorcas’s  childhood  memories  of  her  parents  are  of  laughter  and  golden  days  and  bliss.

basil  &  myra  held  frequent  catered  banquets,  the  adults  getting  flushed  and  tipsy  off  rot-your-teeth  sugary  drinks,  cooing  over  the  dolled-up  children.  dorcas  adored  the  attention.  she  loved  dressing  up  in  her  best  clothes  and  showing  off  the  meagre  magic  she  could  do  (  though  she  still  had  impressive  control  over  wandless  magic  for  a  child  )  and  being  patted  on  the  head  and  called  darling.

i’m  pretty  sure  jkr  has  said  that  ilvermorny  is  the  only  north  american  wizarding  school  but  i’m  gonna  go  ahead  and  say  fuck  that  cause  i  can’t  see  dorcas  and  her  siblings  going  to  ilvermorny,  since  1)  it’s  in  massachusetts  and  2)  it  “  has  the reputation  of  being  one  of  the  most  democratic,  least  elitist  of  all  the  great  wizarding  schools  ”  and  i  think  dorcas  would’ve  gone  to  a  preppier  school

also,  one  school  for  all  of  north  america  ?  yeah  ok,  sure

so  we’ll  say  she  went  to  a  smaller,  more  prestigious  wizarding  school  in  virginia,  the  wizarding  equivalent  of  a  private  school.  aglionby  academy  vibes  from  the  raven  cycle.  

it  wouldn’t  be  quite  fair  to  say  dorcas  excelled  in  school.  she  did  quite  well,  but  she  wasn’t  top  of  her  class.  more  like  …  fourth  in  her  class.  

she  wasn’t  even  top  in  her  siblings.  they  all  had  their  unofficial  roles  to  play.  monty  was  the  athletic  one,  clementine  was  the  brainy  one,  the  twins  were  charming  and  mischievous,  and  dorcas  …  dorcas  was  the  pretty  one.

but  that  doesn’t  bother  dorcas.  she  loves  her  siblings,  and  she  loves  her  parents.  everyone  knows  how  close  the  meadowes  family  is.

the  thing  about  dorcas  is  that  she  never  seems  bothered.  she  floats  through  life  with  a  carefree,  laissez-faire  attitude,  apple-cheeked  and  dimpled,  laughing  off  any  failure  that  comes  her  way,  because  hey,  no  big  deal,  it  wasn’t  that  important  anyway.  

(  if  you  asked  dorcas  what  is  important  to  her,  what  matters  to  her,  she  would  have  trouble  giving  you  an  answer.  )

dorcas  flits  from  short-lived  interest  to  short-lived  interest.  when  she  was  thirteen,  it  was  horseback  riding.  when  she  was  fourteen,  it  was  wandlore.  when  she  was  fifteen,  it  was  poetry.  but  none  of  them  lasted  very  long,  conquered  by  that  old  familiar  restless  boredom.

dorcas  is  the  quintessential  baby  sister  (  think  amy  march  )  which  is  why,  when  monty  enrolled  in  a  martial  arts  course,  dorcas  insisted  on  enrolling  as  well.  (  i  feel  like  wizards  probably  have  their  own  unique  styles  of  martial  arts,  but  i’m  gonna  say  it  was  something  like  jiu  jitsu  where  you  use  the  opponent’s  strength  against  them,  since  dorcas  is  fairly  small  )

soon  after,  monty  was  recruited  by  the  american  quodpot  team  and  had  to  leave.  but  dorcas  stayed  on.  something  about  the  thrill  of  it,  the  foreignness  and  the  physicality,  kept  her  hooked.  when  she  was  on  the  mat,  there  was  no  past  or  future,  just  in  the  moment.

not  that  she  vocalized  any  of  that.  if  you  asked  her,  it  was  just  a  fun  way  to  stay  in  shape.  

dorcas’s  parents  found  their  daughter’s  new  ‘  hobby  ’  strange,  but  delightful  and  cute,  trotting  it  out  as  a  fun  tidbit  at  parties  when  they  showed  dorcas  off.  did  you  know,  dorcas  reckons  she’s  a  wrestler  now  –  bless  her  !  watch  out,  she’s  dangerous  !  followed  by  a  round  of  laughter.

as  a  child,  dorcas  would’ve  loved  the  attention,  but  now,  it  was  starting  to  grate.  not  that  she  would’ve  ever  dreamed  of  protesting  —  she  loved  her  parents,  and  they  meant  well.  there  was  no  sense  in  making  a  big  deal  over  a  silly  hobby.  it  wasn’t  that  important  anyway.

the  only  person  who  took  her  seriously  was  her  coach,  a  fearsome,  grizzled  wizard  with  an  amusing  name.  in  fact,  robert  robertson  took  her  more  seriously  than  she  took  herself.  he  wouldn’t  let  her  quit  when  things  got  tough,  and  under  his  tutelage  she  branched  out,  explored  other  fighting  styles,  met  other  experts.  

her  parents’  interest  in  her  martial  training  waned  quickly,  especially  when  a  new  hobby  came  along,  one  with  well-defined  cheekbones  and  striking  grey  eyes.  seymour  darville  was  the  nephew  of  a  family  friend.  also  pureblood,  of  course.  he  and  dorcas  hit  it  off  right  away,  and  it  wasn’t  long  before  they  were  an  item  and  their  gossipy  relatives  finally  had  something  to  gossip  about.

years  went  by.  dorcas  grew  from  a  teenager  to  a  young  adult.  she  continued  her  training.  meanwhile,  her  relationship  with  seymour  solidified.  her  older  siblings  all  found  partners  and  wed  young,  just  like  their  parents.  dorcas  became  an  aunt  four  times  over.  their  gossipy  relatives  began  dropping  not-so-subtle  hints,  wondering  when  it  would  be  dorcas’s  turn  to  take  the  veil.  the  cement  of  dorcas’s  future  life  was  hardening.

seymour  proposed  over  a  candlelight  dinner  with  roses  and  a  ring,  violins  enchanted  to  serenade  them.  it  was  picture-perfect,  something  straight  out  of  a  romance  novel.

dorcas  didn’t  answer.  she  told  him  she  needed  time  to  think  about  it.  for  a  girl  unable  to  commit  to  most  things,  a  husband  was  an  awfully  big  commitment.  especially  one  she  feared  she’d  fallen  out  of  love  with.  but  her  family  was  expecting  it,  and  his  family  was  expecting  it,  and  besides,  there  was  nothing  that  made  a  girl  half  so  interesting  as  a  diamond  on  her  finger.  right  ?

and  that  was  when  dorcas  was  recruited  for  edin,  by  robert  robertson  personally.  dorcas  had  never  been  overseas  before.  she’d  always  stayed  home,  comfortable  with  the  spanish  moss,  the  peach  trees,  and  american  pureblood  tradition.  going  to  edin  would  be  …  insane.  training  to  be  a  hit  witch  ?  dorcas  wasn’t  a  hit  witch.  she’d  get  one  month  in  before  she  got  bored  and  wanted  to  leave.  not  to  mention  how  far  it  was.  and  she  had  family  in  georgia,  a  loving  boyfriend,  a  future.  

these  were  all  things  dorcas’s  family  said  when  she  told  them  she  would  be  going  to  the  united  kingdom  for  a  year.

i’m  just  worried  about  my  little  girl,  darlin’,  her  mother  said.  you’ve  never  been  so  far  from  home  before.  what  if  something  happens  ?  what  if  you  don’t  come  back  ?

to  which  dorcas  replied,  well,  of  course  i’m  coming  back.  i  can’t  miss  my  own  wedding.  

and  of  course,  that  derailed  their  protests  completely,  as  dorcas  knew  it  would.  dorcas  would  go  to  edin  and  play  hit  witch,  have  her  fun  for  a  year,  and  then  she  would  come  back  to  her  family  and  her  fiancé.  shackled  to  home  for  life.  and  edin,  and  dorcas’s  martial  training,  and  the  one  thing  she’d  committed  to  in  her  life,  would  stay  an  ocean  away.

some  other  things:

even  though  rappaport’s  law  forbidding  muggle  and  magic  interaction  was  lifted  in  1965,  when  dorcas  was  five  years  old,  the  segregation  between  muggle  and  magic  was  too  deeply  ingrained  to  fade  that  easily.  as  such,  dorcas  is  HELLA  clueless  about  the  muggle  world  !  her  private  school  had  very  few  muggleborns,  and  the  muggleborns  that  did  attend  kept  quiet  about  their  heritage.  there  was  no  muggle  studies  or  anything  of  the  sort.

she’s  also  used  to  being  rich  af  lol

other  than  on  the  mat,  dorcas  tends  to  avoid  conflict.  she’s  genuine,  kindhearted  and  optimistic,  and  remarkably  in  tune  with  others’  emotions,  though  her  pureblood  naïveté  might  rub  some  the  wrong  way.  

she’s  like  …  fucking  good  at  fighting.  she’s  nimble  and  surprisingly  strong,  and  people  tend  to  underestimate  her.  she  works  hard  to  keep  herself  in  top  physical  health.  she  eats  healthy  and  exercises  regularly.

this  was  a  fucking  NOVEL  i  am  so  sorry

[revisionaryhistory]

It’s All Art ~ 99

The littles came through the door and ran for the couch. Nick was in the lead, and despite his mother's words, had his eyes on Charlotte. They were coming around on Oscar's side. He moved fast and threw out his arm, "Woah, guys. You have to be easy with your sister. Her ribs hurt so you can't jump on her or hug too tight." He put his arm down.

Nick crept closer, "Can I sit on your lap, sissy?"

"Of course."She patted her thigh and put her arm around him. The girls stood close and Charlotte wrapped around all three. "I love you all and am glad to see you."

Bella reached out gingerly touching Charlotte's bruised cheek, "This looks like it hurts."

Charlotte nodded, "Horribly, but you three are making it feel so much better."

Toni kissed Charlotte's non-bruised cheek," Better?"

"Absolutely."

The siblings laughed and caught up while their parents watched proudly. Oscar tried to move, to let the kids have his place. Bella stopped him, moving to his other side and squishing him closer to Charlotte. He put his arm around the young girl, kissing her temple, and keeping her close to the group.

Oscar was keeping an eye on the clock, so he wasn't surprised by the knock on the door. He meet Micah's eyes, "That will be the police." He headed to let them in, hearing Micah gather up the family.

The officers saw Charlotte in a group hug, "Is this a bad time?"

"Nope. That's her family. They're going to chill in the apartment downstairs. Come on in." He collected hugs as the family left. Alexis held on a bit longer. Oscar moved back enough to see her face, "Don't worry too much. I've got her."

Alexis patted his chest, "She couldn't be in better hands."

Oscar had a loose plan. He would show them the card and flowers, leading into the story. However, when he turned from closing the door they were sitting with Charlotte and one had just asked how she was feeling.

"Getting there. Finding a way to sleep comfortably is the biggest hurdle." She kept her attention on the two officers, but reached to Oscar as he sat down beside her. "A lot has happened in the last twenty four hours."

The older of the pair, DI Marcum raised his eyebrows, "Do you remember the attack?"

Charlotte shook her head, "No, but Oscar has filled in the missing bits. We think the attacker sent me flowers." She pointed to the table.

Oscar walked with them to the table and explained how he'd read the card, but no one else had touched. They would take the card and vase, but who knew how many people had touched them. Oscar glanced at Charlotte before going on. "We know who sent them."

Marcum looked between the couple, "I think we should sit down."

Charlotte told the story. Marcum asked questions as DI Carlton took notes. They recorded the conversation as well. Oscar held her hand, and although he'd heard,  even told, the story several times he still cycled through a range of emotions. Most prominent was awe at her strength and pride. Proud of how she was managing this now. Proud of how she'd managed back then. And overwhelming pride that he got to call her his.

When she'd finished talking and they'd finished asking questions Oscar breathed again.  He felt like the book on this was starting to close. He hoped Charlotte did too.

Marcum nodded to Carlton then looked at Charlotte, “A'right if we show you a picture of your attacker?”

Charlotte felt Oscar's fingers tighten in hers. She was fine and with a gentle squeeze tried to convey that to him.  “Yes.”  A few clicks later and she was looking at a dark and grainy picture. She squinted her eyes a little and cocked her head to the side. The others thought she was struggling to recognize the face. She wasn't. She'd immediately recognized Jasper. What she was doing was trying to see the man she'd known in the picture. Not the one who'd lied and betrayed her, but the one she'd been so very attracted too. She didn't see that person in the picture. Looking away with a shudder, she looked at Marcum. “That's Jasper.”

“Are you certain?”

“One hundred percent.” Something occurred to her, “Look up his staff photo on the school website.”  

Malcom did as she asked and brought up a picture that, despite the difference in quality and age, was definitely the same man. He raised his eyebrows, “Good idea, Charlotte.”

Charlotte wasn't paying attention anymore. Her eyes were closed tight.

Oscar was instantly concerned by the look on her face, “Sweetheart?” He reached over and laid his hand on her cheek.

Charlotte's eyes opened and met his, “I remember everything.” She shifted her attention to Marcum, “Do you have the video? I can tell you what he said to me.”

Marcum brought up the video and started a new recording of the interview.

Oscar couldn't watch the video again. He watched Charlotte. He knew from her face what was going on.

Charlotte was amazed at the ease she remembered what was a complete blank even ten minutes ago. She winced when he slammed her against the wall. “That's where my arm broke.” She moved her casted arm closer to her body. “He said something like, “You were young, and beautiful, and looked up to me. But a piece of ass is still a piece of ass." Then I heard those boys yell. Ask him what he was doing and he took off.”  She looked at Oscar then back to the officers, “I remember bumping into him outside the parking garage and him dragging me in there.”

This part of the story was new and Oscar felt his blood boil. Jasper had no right. No right to talk to her.  Touch her. Nothing. Jasper had to have been following her. Running into her was no accident. His stomach seized and tried to hide taking a few deep  breaths. Charlotte had been afraid her attacker was following her and could come back after her. Everyone, himself included, had ensured her it was just here being in the wrong place at the wrong time. They were wrong. He knew that from the flowers, but hearing what she remembered. Who knew how long he'd been watching her. He was glad he'd made the call this morning to get her security. Oscar didn't think she'd fight him on this, but he wasn't giving her a choice. Until Jasper was put away Charlotte would have security with her.

While the officers and Charlotte kept talking, Oscar entertained all sorts of revenge fantasies. None of them ended well for Jasper. Charlotte saying his name brought him back to the room. “Sorry.”

Marcum spoke, “We'll get an address and bring him in. We'll let you know when we have him. Until then we'll have officers watching the building. Don't go out alone.”

Oscar snickered, “Not a chance.” Since they'd mentioned safety concerns, he spoke up. “I've got security coming tonight. She'll have someone around the clock as long as this fucker is wandering around. Will you let us know when he . . . I don't know what it's called here . . . posts bail in America.”

Marcum nodded, “A victim liaison will be in touch and keep you updated on everything.”

“Perfect.”

When the conversation wrapped up Oscar walked the men out. He took a detour through the kitchen area and grabbed a couple of beers before heading back to the couch.

Charlotte laughed, “You know I can't drink and take pain pills at the same time.”

He took a long draw as he sat down, “These are mine.”

She smiled, kissed his cheek, and laid down with her head on his lap. Oscar drew his fingers through her long, soft hair. Over and over. Soothing both of them. He noticed the tense line of her body, “Are you comfortable?”

Charlotte didn't move, “No.” They both laughed. “But I'm not in pain. The way you're running your fingers through my hair and your thigh as a pillow is making me ignore the discomfort.” She turned her head to look up at him, “How are you?”

“Enjoying my beer and my girl's head in my lap.” He took another long drink. “How are you?”

“You know how I am.” She turned her head back, “I want to hear about you.”

He breathed out loudly, “Knowing for sure that he was following you. Seeing what he really looks like. Knowing you remember it all. I don't care for any of that.”

“Me either.”

Oscar's text notification went off. “It's your parents. They saw the officers leave.”

Charlotte sat up, “Would you take care of them for me. I need a little time. Tell them . . .”

“I'll take care of it.” He leaned in and kissed her. “I got it.”

“I'm going to go lay down. Join me when your done?”

He nodded, kissed her again, and watched her walk toward the bedroom. Oscar texted them that she'd remembered everything and needed some time. They understood and asked for him to keep them updated. He thought it would be an hour or two and he'd keep in contact.

Oscar drained the second beer before heading into the bedroom. He smiled, “You're naked.”

“You need to be too.” She watched him immediately start striping off his clothes. “I need your skin.” She waited until he crawled into bed, tucking himself tight against her back. “I feel like it's over. I know there's more to come, but it's the end of the story. I know what happened and everyone knows my secrets. It's over.” She turned her head to find his eyes, “Go ahead and say it.”

Oscar kissed her slowly, letting his tongue move slowly over hers, “I told you so.”

Charlotte bit his lip, “I'm glad you knew.”  She turned her head back and pulled his arm tight over her. “I want to lay here in your warmth and let it all go away. I want to let go of the memories and let everything really start to heal. I imagine there will be more nightmares now that I remember.” She cringed.

Oscar kissed the back of her neck, “I don't think so. I think the nightmares were your brain trying to put it back together. It doesn't need to do that anymore. And if you have another nightmare. We know what to do to make them go away.”

“Thank you.” Charlotte wanted to say something about how he always knew what to do, but that was wrong.

They always knew. They knew the other, they talked to each other, and they figured it out. They made everything alright.

[devinfm]

joe keery. cis male. he/him.  ／  jack devin just pulled up blasting video killed the radio star by the buggles — that song is so them ! you know, for a twenty - four year old radio show host, i’ve heard they’re really impulsive, but that they make up for it by being so captivating. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say obscure vintage horror comics, blurry photographs of mysterious figures in the woods, and vivid descriptions of spine - chilling tales  . here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble ! ( sam, 23, est, she/her )

hey there, demons! *ba tum tss* i’m sam and i also write parker ( @prkrfm​​ ) which is the best place to contact me for plotting!

i. stats

𝔣𝔲𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢: jackson willard devin

𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰: jack, spooky guy, the night watchman

𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫: salem, massachusetts

𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔥: ocotber 31st, 1995

𝔷𝔬𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔠: scorpio

𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: demisexual

𝔬𝔠𝔠𝔲𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: host of the graveyard shift, a radio program airing every weeknight from 12am to 5am

𝔭𝔬𝔰. 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔰: captivating, witty, resolute.

𝔫𝔢𝔤. 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔰: impulsive, gauche, naive.

ii. history

jackson willard “jack” devin was born on halloween day ( yes, really ) in salem massachusetts ( yes, really ). his mother stayed home with him as he was growing up while his father is a boston cop turned sheriff of the county and he has one sibling, a younger sister.

outside of the popular tourist spots, his hometown has a very close - knit, stuck in the 80s vibe. it’s the sort of place where everyone knows everyone for their entire lives because no one ever leaves and no one new ever moves in. phone and internet signals are nearly impossible to come by, so the local arcade and the video store still have quite a booming business in the year 2020. jack grew up in a not - so - typical small town suburban gothic environment, his dad’s income being just enough for them to get by every month.

he was an energetic kid who cycled through all sorts of interests, trying out everything from little league ( disaster ) to music lessons ( not as much of a disaster, but he wound up getting bored of it ). nothing seemed to really stick until he got his first horror comic : a vintage issue of tales from the crypt with tattered, yellowing pages. he was five years old and paid five cents for it at an elderly neighbor’s yard sale and from that moment on he was hooked. it started with the comics, but he quickly expanded his horizons to movies, books, and television in the genre of horror.

he got intro drawing and that was the only thing besides his newfound interest in horror that he could sit still for. at first he would just try to re - draw the panels in his comic books, but soon he was drawing anything and everything that caught his interest and he was getting good. he was being homeschooled by his mother at the time, but once friends and family and, well, everyone took notice of his skill, they were encouraging his parents to nurture his talent.

his parents fought about it. his dad didn’t see the value in his skill and wanted him to instead focus on academics, aspiring towards his son one day becoming a lawyer or a businessman or even following in his footsteps. jack never wanted that for himself. he was homeschooled by his mom up until then and she believed in him. it was with her blessing that he would go to a real school for the first time at the age of fourteen, starting off his freshman year at a high school that was a thirty minute train ride away in boston and catered exclusively to youth who demonstrated an exceptional talent in some area of the fine arts.

jack did well in school, but his grades probably would have been a lot better still if he didn’t start purposely acting out as his relationship with his dad got worse and worse. he started skipping classes, getting caught trespassing in cemeteries at 2am, and smoking a lot of weed.

when it came time for college, jack planned to attend art school. he swears he did. he looked a few schools on the west coast to get away from his dad for a few years yikes and planned to apply, but on the deadline date he got so high that he forgot to submit his portfolios. yes, really.

he loaded up his van ( a turquiose monstrosity he painted to look like the mystery machine ) and headed out to california anyway after telling his parents that he would be attending UCLA. of course, they quickly found it that it was a lie and his dad was furious. the two got into a huge fight over the phone and things were said. the result is that jack and his father haven’t spoken to each other ever since.

he did lots of odd jobs while he was on the road and basically lived in his van, which didn’t change right away when he decided to settle in LA, but he eventually got a job fetching coffee for the late night employees at a local radio station.

it was the typical, cliché story : the regular late night host called out of work at the last minute, there was no one else around and they were going to be on air in ten seconds. jack was thrown in front of the microphone and told to think fast !

he did, and the listeners loved him for it. whether it was his ramblings about horror movies or his thick boston accent or his reckless use of swear words on live radio, he turned out to be a massive hit. the successful night earned him a gig as an occasional substitute deejay, and with each broadcast he grew more and more popular, and about two years ago he was finally given his own program.

the graveyard shift is a radio program that airs every weeknight from 12am - 5am in the los angeles area and on apps such as iheartradio. jack hosts the show as his ( thinly veiled ) alter ego the night watchman and discusses topics such as the paranormal, conspiracy theories, and all things horror. it’s one of the most popular programs of the time slot in the country.

it’s something that he never expected or picturing himself doing, but now he can’t imagine doing anything else. he’s become really passionate about revitalizing the field and bringing radio into the 21st century. he signed a HUGE contract with the studio when his show first started and now he’s a quite well known radio personality in the area and across the country.

iii. extras

huge stoner. high as fuck 90% of the time, and the other 10% of the time he’s probably still high, just not as fuck.

well known for his on air antics. he’ll light a joint in the middle of his radio show, he’ll prank call a friend and broadcast it to the entire city, he’ll curse in every single sentence and skate by on the after hours excuse when he’s reprimanded for it. he’s so outlandish and bizarre and like nothing that’s ever been heard on the radio before, and it just draws people in.

he often seems shy in person, but it’s more like he’s just a little socially awkward, something which also shines through in occasional non - malicious but blunt remarks and general lack of regard for what people think of him. he really just…doesn’t care.

genuinely seems to believe it’s either halloween day and / or the year 1986 at any given moment as that’s about as recent as his pop culture references get. he’s never heard of the k*rdashians, he doesn’t know what the mcu is, and the phrase yeet means absolutely nothing to him. mention any of it to him and he’ll just stare blankly bc he honestly doesn’t have a clue.

HOWEVER, he did start the area 51 meme from last summer.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

still draws. especially if he has to still for a stretch of time, then he’ll take out his latest sketchbook ( he goes through a lot of them ) and start doodling. he’s still quite good, mostly in his favored comic - esque style.

BIG CHAOTIC ENERGY and ZERO IMPULSE CONTROL

a chatterbox with friends but don’t be fooled…he’s been giving his own dad the silent treatment for almost seven ( 7 ) years now. it’s his preferred method of expressing anger towards someone because he isn’t really a fan of confrontation, but he’s maybe a liiiittle bit stubborn.

most of the time he’s a really easygoing person, a good friend and very loyal to the people he cares about. well - meaning, not the best at advice but he’s more likely to try and cheer a person up anyway.

he has a pet pied ball python named the crypt keeper ( tkc for short ) who he sometimes just carries with him because he likes to just chill wrapped around jack’s hand and arm.

iv. wanted connections

maternal or paternal cousins ( their grandparents probably live in boston or new england but otherwise anything goes for this )

close friends

friends

guests on his radio show

fans / haters of his radio show

people who don’t like him / find him annoying

exes ( 1 - 2, can be on good or bad terms )

“casually dating” but it might get real complicated soon - allie james

( these are just ideas and i’m trash at coming up with stuff, so please don’t feel limited by what’s listed here. )

[kalluun-patangaroa]

An Audience With… Brett Anderson

UNCUT Magazine

December 2010

Interview: John Lewis

Brett Anderson has some fans in odd places. This month, Uncut’s email boxes are positively heaving with questions from adoring fans in Peru, Serbia, Japan, New Zealand, Belgium, South Africa, Slovenia and Russia. “I’m quite popular in odd places,” he says. “Suede had No 1s in Chile and Finland. We were massive in Denmark. If asked why Denmark, my stock answer was that, well, I’m a depressed sex maniac and so are most Scandinavians. We toured China long before most Western pop groups. I remember playing Beijing, to a crowd divided by armed soldiers facing the audience. That was pretty scary.” Anderson is currently back in the Far East, speaking to Uncut as he overlooks Kowloon Harbour, preparing for solo dates. Later in the year he’ll be in London for a big O2 show with Suede (sans original guitarist Bernard Butler, although the two remain good friends). “I wanted to check out what the stage was like at the O2 Arena,” he says. “So I went to see The Moody Blues with my father-in-law. Come on, you can’t argue with ‘Nights In White Satin’. What a tune!”

I presume you’re aware of the ‘reallybanderson’ Twitter account purporting to be by you. Amused or offended? Helen, Birmingham

Twitter is one of those strange things, like Facebook, that I don’t have anything to do with. But I have to grudgingly admit that the reallybanderson Twitter updates are rather funny [starts giggling]. And the guy doing it is obviously a bit of a Suede fan, because there are some very detailed references to b-sides and bla-di-blah. I can’t exactly complain about it without coming across as a real tit. It’s just fun and no-one really thinks it’s me, it’s a cartoon version of me reflected through some fairground mirror. I don’t think anyone reads it and thinks, ‘Oh, Brett Anderson has Jas Mann from Babylon Zoo doing his washing up, or Brett punched Damon in the street.’ It is, ha ha ha, quite witty. Having shown them the picture inside the Best Of Suede CD, my kids would like to know why you refused to feed me for five years? Also – can my mum have her top back? And are you around for a trip to the Imperial War Museum? Bernard Butler

Yes, what most fans don’t realise is that we kept Bernard in a cage for five years, and fed him edamame beans and tap water. Regarding his mum’s top – he should know that it’s long been ripped up and destroyed by the front row of the Southampton Joiners, or somesuch venue. Now, the Imperial War Museum – me and Bernard were talking about getting older the other day and he said: “Are you finding yourself increasingly interested in British military history?” And I have become oddly fascinated with watching WWI docs on YouTube. It’s not just the personal tragedies, but the sense of it being a shocking transition point between the Victorian world and modernity. The idea that they were going into war on horseback, and by the end of it they were in tanks. Blimey. So tell Bernard I will be going to the museum, soon… What’s your favourite Duffy song? Kris Smith, Wembley

I thought “Rockferry” was a very beautiful, stirring track. So that’s the only one I know well, but I’m really pleased for Bernard that that was a big success [Butler co-wrote and produced much of the album]. He’s an incredibly talented person and works incredibly hard, and he’s one of those people who is just obsessed with music. People like that deserve success. Did I ask him to join the Suede show at the O2? No. I told him about it, but he’s moved on so far from Suede that it would have been odd, and we’ve had a completely different lineup since he left. I don’t think he’d want to be jumping around a stage again! He’s much happier doing what he does now, I think he’s really found his calling. Do you still have your cat, Fluffington? Claire Vanderhoven, Holland

Unfortunately, he’s ascended to cat heaven. He had 15 long years of adoration. Am I getting another cat? Well, I recently got married, and my wife brought two Italian greyhounds with her. I don’t know if anyone is aware of them, but Italian greyhounds are like little cats. Ours are eight years old but look like miniature foxes, bonsai greyhounds. But incredibly fast, like little bullets. When they’re not running they spend their whole life under the duvet. Someone once told me they were bred by the Pharaohs as bedwarmers! Brett, do you have a copy of the single I recorded with Suede: “Art” b/w “Be My God”? If so, could I have one? Mike Joyce

Mike, I think I destroyed my copy years ago. I’m not one to keep memorabilia. They’re about 100 quid on eBay. Mike was an early member of Suede. We were advertising for a drummer and listed The Smiths as an influence. Then at an audition, their drummer pokes his head through the door and says, “Hello, lads!” Ha! It was a bit Jim’ll Fix It. I don’t think anyone thought it was going to last, Mike was far too big a name for us. But he just took us under his wing, guided us through the industry, and was so charming. I still keep in contact with him. What’s the weirdest story you’ve heard about yourself? Badabingbadaboom

Someone once told me that they’d heard a story about me wanting to shit in someone’s mouth. But I also heard the same story about David Byrne, so I think it’s one of those urban myths that gets transferred from one slightly kooky pop star to another. That’s probably the most unsavoury thing I’ve heard about myself. Maybe I should give it a go. Which actors would you like to play the lead members of Suede in a biopic? James Kumar, Manchester

This is the kind of thing we talk about on tour. Matt Osman is convinced I should be played by Peter Egan, who was in Ever Decreasing Circles. I think Nic Cage should play Matt. Arsène Wenger reminds me of Bernard. That’s what Bernard will look like when he’s 60. Billy Idol could play Simon Gilbert, couldn’t he? Would you ever consider working in musical theatre? Neil Tennant

It’s funny he should ask that, because only the other day, I was listening to the album Neil and Chris did with Liza Minnelli in the late ’80s. Results, I think it’s called, with “Losing My Mind”. That sounded great, so emotive, and real. I’m a big fan of the Pet Shop Boys, they’re one of those amazing bands that almost created their own genre. But anyway, musical theatre. Yeah, I think I would. Sondheim? Rodgers and Hart? Definitely. I’m always open to new ideas. Musical theatre sounds like it’s going to have camp undertones, but I’d love to do it in an interesting way. What’s the worst song you’ve ever written? Mark Catley, Christchurch, NZ

That’s a good question. I wrote lots of terrible songs that were never recorded in the early days. But there’s a song called “Duchess” – a B-side to something from the Head Music era [actually to 1997 single “Filmstar”] – which is pretty rubbish. I’ve often regretted the production on certain songs, like “Trash” and “Animal Nitrate”, even though they’ve been pretty good songs. But you can’t go messing around with things like that. You start to interfere with what people originally liked about it. I also think people like your mistakes, as they give your work humanity. I quite like that about Prince. He seems to throw stuff out – some of it genius, some unlistenable – but all quite honest. I respect that. Do you enjoy art? Excited about Gauguin at the Tate? Katarina Janoskova, London

Absolutely. I’m a big fan of Gauguin and the post-impressionists. My favourite visual artist, if I had to narrow it down to one, would be Manet, the pre-impressionist. Not Monet, who doesn’t do it for me. But Manet had this revolutionary technique of painting on black, which gives his pictures a real depth, there’s something very sumptuous about his paintings. And further back, the kind of medieval-style stuff like Holbein and Brueghel – they’re so well observed and so real. You look at these pictures of people who lived 500, 600 years ago, you can imagine them walking down Tottenham Court Road now, the same face, they’re so real. It’s a little window into the past. I’ve quite got into art recently. It’s all part of expanding yourself and your education, appreciation of beauty in life, innit? Now that you’re no longer coming to work in Bow, how are you coping without the salad pitta? Leo Abrahams, musician and producer

Ha ha! I’ve been working on an album with Leo, in his studio, and I have an unhealthy obsession with East London’s kebab shops. You don’t get many good kebab shops in west London. It reminds me of being a student. I’m surprised Leo’s got the time to email you questions! He’s far too busy producing Eno or Grace Jones or Florence & The Machine. He also does these bizarre things where he plays entirely improvised gigs, no rehearsals. And that inspired the latest solo LP I’ve done with him. It was based on improvs. Me, Leo, Seb Rochford on drums, and Leopold Ross on bass just jammed for days, cut up them up and improvised, and did overdubs. It’s a full-on rock record. I love Leo, he’s great. He never takes the easy option. He pushes you a bit, which can be terrifying. Can you give us not-so-slim-in-2010 Suede fans some health tips? Simon Quinton, Oxford

My wife is a naturopath – she’s conscious of what she eats, so we eat a lot of sushi and seeds. I’ve got into cycling recently, particularly living in London, through the parks and the backstreets. It makes you fall back in love with the city. I cycled to Bow the other day from my house in Notting Hill. So that’s staving off the fortysomething belly. I’m sure I’ll get it when I’m fiftysomething. I’m looking forward to that. What do you think of Gorillaz? Ruiz, São Paulo, Brazil

To be honest, I don’t know much about them. I like the drawings. I guess that’s a veiled question about my relationship with Damon? Well, we don’t have a relationship to talk about. We all have things that happened years ago, rivalries and so on, and people assume that they’re still on your radar and part of your life. It’s like some musical soap opera, often one that’s been fabricated, without much substance. I have different issues in my life now. Is the art of songwriting dead? If it isn’t, who is flying the torch? Paloma Faith

Oh, it’s not dead at all. I’m constantly inspired by new music. If you look on YouTube, there’s a clip of me singing Christina Aguilera’s “Beautiful”. When you’re covering stuff it’s interesting to try things that are out of your genre, which gives it a frisson. So I always try songs that aren’t, you know, British indie, stuff like Blondie, or The Pretenders. That Christina Aguilera song is amazing. I try not to look at songs as the finished product, I look at it as the chords and the melody and the words, like sheet music to be interpreted. You’ve got to keep moving with your musical appreciation. I loved the last Horrors record, I liked The National, The Drums, These New Puritans, lots of stuff. I never listen to the records I grew up with. Why bother? It’s all in my head! Brett, you’re from Haywards Heath. What’s the deal with the swimming pool there? It’s deep in the middle, not at one end. What’s your take on that? And were you ever caught out by it? P Newman, Brighton

I don’t know what they’re referring to at all, but funnily enough my dad used to work there as a swimming pool attendant. And I don’t really know how he got the job because he couldn’t swim. It’s lucky there weren’t any accidents. Every Tuesday, we had to troop down to the local pool, and everybody would be pointing at my dad saying, “Oh look there’s your dad, he’s working as a pool attendant.” And I was hoping none of them would start drowning, ’cos my dad wouldn’t be much use. Still, this was the early ’80s, and I guess we all thought the world was going to end any second with a nuclear bomb. Ha ha.

[sweet-popplio]

I don’t know what to do recovery wise.

————————-

I know that being independent and moving out would most likely help me mentally because being 27 and still living with my parents makes me feel... like I’m a failure.

I know people tried to make me feel better about it in the past, but even if I got word confirmation from my parents that they AREN’T disappointed in me, I’d still be disappointed in me. I’d also not believe them.

The closest to recovery I ever felt was when I had that full time job at the graphic design place as an assistant graphic designer. Because A) I FINALLY had an art related job, so when people asked what I was doing, I could proudly say I had an art job. B) I was full time so my paychecks were pretty nice. It was only $9 an hour but that was the most money I had ever made at any point in my life. And having the heath benefits made me feel more secure. And finally C) Because I still went to my therapist and finally had a decent income, for once in probably... eh 5 years? I could actually imagine a future for myself.

Despite that, the job still sucked. I didn’t really feel like I was encouraged to use my artistic potential. Instead I was told to be faster by copying and pasting stuff from the internet and it rubbed me wrong from the beginning and so art-wise, it was a very unfulfilling job. But the financial stability made me push those feelings to the side. I still had problems, but financial stability and title made me feel more like an adult which alleviated my constant voice in my head telling me I was a failure. Because I failure wouldn’t have a full time job as an assistant graphic designer.

I feel like moving out and having a better paying job with health benefits would help, but I know I also have some deep set problems within myself that I never got to work out with my therapist. I only now realize the depth of it thanks to weed. It has allowed me to think about things in a safe environment in my head rather than avoiding thinking all together. For the last 5-ish years I’ve done everything I could to NOT think. I’ve tried to distract myself with literally everything and anything just so I wouldn’t have to think about anything. It was one thing when I saw my therapist and I HAD to stop and think about things, but since I could no longer see her I have regressed to trying to run away from my thoughts.

Because if I have time to think, then the things I think about are always the worst. It only flings me down a deeper emotional hole. I distracted myself with video games, the gym, work, literally anything that would take up every minute of my time so my mind wouldn’t wander to the dark area of my head that wants me to kill myself.

I’m partially afraid that’s what I am using weed for. To distract myself... to run away from my own head. And in some instances, it does. When I get too high just so I don’t have to think. So I can just be happy.

But in most cases, it makes me feel happy and comfortable enough that I know I can finally think about things and try to delve deeper into my problems so I can dissect them and fix them, and NOT instantly go into an emotional crying fit and dream of self harm.

I can only dissect some stuff on my own. I really need to see a therapist again so I can have another viewpoint... a more educated viewpoint into why, how and what I can do to fix it.

I still have problems enjoying art. I thought maybe I was just going through a phase and I was just no longer interested in art and was forcing myself to do it because it’s what I got a degree in. But I love art, and the feeling of creating is amazing. But for whatever reason there is just a mental roadblock. I only rarely feel like making art now because of weed helping me, but I don’t understand why I feel like I’ve run into a brick wall. I thought maybe if I took a few months off from making art, that I’d regain my love for it and start churning out art again. But I’m not. I somehow am worse. I am sketching MAYBE once a month now. I haven’t had a finished piece in ages.

I’m cycling between never wanting to be at home, so I try to schedule all of my days off with my friends or I am being a complete hermit and not leaving home even when I kinda want to go out and do things. It’s so confusing. I want to understand myself better but feel like I won’t really get there unless I can get with a good therapist. But I can’t do that because I don’t have the finances or the health insurance to do so, and I can’t have good finances without a well paying full time job and that’s where I end up getting stuck.

Because my fear of failure keeps me from applying or brushing it off because I won’t get it anyway, so why try?

I try to practice positivity. I tell myself “I won’t know until I try. I 100% won’t get it if I don’t try” but it only helps me so much. The fear of failure is just that bad that even positive logic like that can’t dissolve it. I realize it’s ridiculous but I’m serious when I say that this fear of failure runs back so long and I have no idea where it even came from. I remember wanting to put a knife in my gut in 3rd grade just because I was making poor grades in math. I would try to have my mom help me but I just couldn’t wrap my head around it or it sounded like trying to listen to someone talk to you through several walls. I remember her leaving for a sec and looking around her room and fixating on a knife that she had in there because she was doing some craft project, and all I could think about unblinkingly with tears in my eyes was picking it up and stabbing it into my stomach because the self loathing I felt over my grades was so strong, it almost felt like the right course of action. I didn’t want to be perceived as stupid so badly. And since then it just been a course of self loathing that I guess built up into depression? But I’ve had thoughts of harming myself so much as a kid that it confuses me as to whether that was all depression too? Something else entirely? I never did really harm myself though, it was mostly thinking about doing it but it would be very intense. Like I could solve my problems if I just drowned myself stabbed myself,etc. Didn’t do well in school? I’d think about self harm. Felt lonely because I had a hard time making friends? Hardly anyone wanted to associate with me? Man, sounds like if I died then my problems would be over. Felt like I was unlovable because everyone around me was dating and all I would get is being asked out as a joke? .... you get the picture.

This turned into a venting thing really fast, but I end up using this blog to get stuff out and it makes me feel better temporarily. I know it’s probably annoying to most people who started following my blog (and why you did, I’ll never know). It’s to be expected these days and if I could actually use a read more option on mobile then I’d totally clean my blog up and it would keep you from having to look at my paragraphs long post and going “oh shit, not this bitch again” and it just be a neat little thing tucked under a read more that you could skip entirely and not have to endlessly scroll down.

[crashdevlin]

Good Things: Part Three

Part One

Part Two

That day in Manitoba started a three week-long texting relationship with the eldest Winchester, which began with a simple 'How's your hunt going?' and slowly evolved to sexts and pictures... and then just stopped. You called and it went to voicemail every time. As the days of silence went by, you went through a cycle of angry, betrayed and worried.

"I know you're retired, Garth. I'm not calling you into a hunt!" You were in the worried part of the cycle and you had started calling every hunter you knew that knew the Winchesters. "I need to know if you've heard from Dean."

"I didn't know you even knew Sam and Dean." Garth mused on the other end of the phone.

"Yeah, for a little while now, okay, and I've been trying to get a hold of either of them for weeks and neither are answering their phones."

"Oh, that happens sometimes. They get into-"

"So, that's a 'no', Garth?"

"No. Sorry, y/n. I haven't heard from them in a while."

"Great. Do you have, uh, Jody Mills' number?"

"Yeah. You got a pen?"

Your conversation with Sheriff Mills had gone the same way, but ended with you being given Mary Winchester's number. "Hello?"

"Hi, uh, Mary? It's y/n."

"Oh. Hey."

"I'm trying to get in contact with Dean. Have you heard from him?"

There was a moment of silence followed by, "Castiel didn't call you?"

You swallowed, nervously. "Call me about what?"

She sighed, sending static through the phone. "I think it'd be better coming from Castiel."

"Mary, please. I have spent the last month thinking I did something wrong or Dean was killed or that he just decided he didn't want to waste his time with me! Don't make me wait for the fucking angel!" You exclaimed.

"Y/n... you didn't do anything wrong and they aren't dead... but they are in trouble and we... Castiel and I haven't been able to help them."

"What trouble?" Your voice barely came out.

"You remember how Lucifer was in Vince Vincente?"

"Yes."

"He ended up in President Rooney."

"What?"

"They were arrested after getting Lucifer out of him and black-bagged, sent to some... off-books black site that we can't find. That was... five weeks ago."

Her words hit you with enough force to knock the wind out of you. "How do you know they're still alive? Assault on the president, that's gotta be-"

"Castiel says they are, so I have to believe him."

You swallowed, fighting back tears. "Okay. Thank you... for telling me... Mary."

"The boys will be okay. I know they will."

"Sure." You lost the fight with the tears as you hung up. You went to sleep that night thinking you might have just lost the most amazing man in the world and you never gave him the fair shake he deserved, that you'd been so wrapped in your self-deprecating bullshit that you had lost the opportunity of a lifetime.

You threw yourself into a hunt, immediately. It didn't matter that it might be an entire nest of vampires and you were but a single hunter, you went to Lancaster, Missouri, anyway. You were met with confusion and a bit of anger from the townsfolk. Another 'agent' had been through the town, asking questions, before disappearing on the heels of the the fifth body drop. You easily found the bar that was the overlap between the victims and went to work tracking the monster from a bar stool, which is where you were when Mary Winchester walked in.

"Hey." You started. "Buy you a beer?"

"Sure." She sat down next to you and you nodded at the bartender to get another round of beers. "You here for the hunt?"

"Beats sitting around the house, wallowing."

She nodded. "I've always been a 'kill things instead of cry' kinda woman, too."

"That's what happens when you grow up in the Life. You learn to dissociate from pain... all pain."

"Yeah, Dean told me you were a 'born-and-raised' hunter, like me."

"He told me that you got out... supposedly." You took a drink of your beer. "Tried to do the normal-boring, raise a litter... but this isn't something you can just turn off, not when it's how you were raised, when it's who you are."

"True. Even when I was..." She shook her head and raised her bottle to her lips. "You can take a break but you can never stop. Like you said, it's who we are."

"Wanna work this together?"

"You've already done the legwork, I assume."

"Yes, ma'am. Beardy dude in the corner is our guy. Was gonna let him lead me back to the nest. Always good to have another machete at the party."

"Sounds good to me."

The nest was four vampires strong, but you and Mary took them out in a span of about fifteen minutes, heads rolling off your machete and across the floor like misshapen bowling balls. "Not bad." She said as the two of you walked out of the old shop they'd settled in. Her phone started ringing as the two of you moved to get into her car. "Castiel? Slow... slow down. What?" Her eyes widened as she sat in the driver's seat. "Oh, God. I'll be there."

She hung up and turned to you, looking through the open window. "Get in. The Boys have escaped. They're in Colorado. I'm meeting Castiel in Lebanon. Let's go."

Mary drove like a bat out of Hell. It was nauseating around the curves, how your insides pulled with the force, but you didn't mention it. You were glad for her fast driving, it just meant you'd get to see Dean again sooner. It cut a six hour trip from Missouri to Kansas down to two and a half and it was no time before she was pulling into a parking lot in Lebanon and Castiel was walking up to the passenger window.

"You got here quickly."

"Yep." Mary responded as Castiel got into the backseat. "What do you think we're walking into?" Mary asked.

"I don't know." Castiel answered, honestly. "We may want more backup. Crowley and Rowena?"

"The King of Hell and his mother: the witch?" Mary scoffed.

"Hope we can do better than that." You insisted as Mary buckled her seat belt.

"I may have an idea." Castiel said.

"Good. Seat belt on. I drive fast."

"She's not lying." You confirmed.

~~~~

Mary parked her car on Colorado State Route 34 in front of a black luxury car. You recognized the shorter man in the tan coat before you even got out of the car: Mick Davies, British Men of Letters. He'd been trying to get you to talk to him for months. "Miss y/l/n, a pleasure as always."

"Mr. Davies."

"This is my associate, Mr. Ketch. I don't think you've met." He gestured to his companion, a taller man with tattoos on his hands.

"No. Definitely would've remembered meeting this one." Ketch looked you up and down as Mary stomped around the front of the car to glare at Castiel.

"This is your idea? The people that almost killed my boys, they're gonna be our backup? Suddenly, the demon and his mommy don't look so bad." Mary said, snarkily.

"They helped us with Lucifer." Castiel defended.

"Lucifer? The Lucifer?" Mick asked.

"Yes."

"Wait, so, you're tellin' me what happened in Indianapolis was you took on the bleedin' Devil, himself?" Mick asked.

"Yes." Castiel answered.

"Did you win?" Ketch asked.

Castiel looked from the Brits to you and Mary. "Yes."

The Brits looked at each other, obviously impressed. "Bravo."

"But Sam and Dean were taken. We think we can get them back, but we need... help." Mary said.

"So, we'll help." Mick said.

"Really?" Mary asked.

"Just like that?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Mrs. Winchester... y/n..." Mick stepped forward. "I came to this country to do one thing: Make friends. But you American hunters, you're... you're a different breed than our sort. You're surly, suspicious. You don't play well with others." Mick started.

"Well, that is accurate." Castiel commented. You and Mary gave the angel almost identical bitch faces.

"You don't trust people you don't know, even when they come bearing gifts. Now, I can't help that, but I can help you. And if word were to get out that we did our part to save Same and Dean Winchester, well, that's just good business, innit? And who knows? When all this is over, we might even be friends." Mick turned his gaze to you. "Maybe you'll let me buy you that dinner, finally."

"What's the saying about Brits bearing gifts?" You responded, with a sarcastic smile.

"That's Greeks bearing gifts." Ketch corrected.

"Yeah, but the Greeks left the gift for the gods and the Trojans stole it, whereas the British Empire had a habit of rolling across nations like they were God's gift, stealing resources and killing people. My way makes more sense."

The two men blinked at you as Mary leaned against the hood of her car. "We think Sam and Dean were being held somewhere in the Rocky Mountain National Forest."

"Site 94? It's a government facility, off-books. Shadow ops. One of those places that officially doesn't exist." Ketch said.

"Then how do you know about it?" Mary asked.

"We gather information. It's our job." Mick said.

"They told us to meet them off State Route 34." Cas tried to help.

"Which is a fairly long stretch of road and we don't know where, exactly, they're comin' up for air." You said.

"I'll get our techs to put a satellite over the area." Mick offered.

"You can do that?" You and Mary asked.

"And so much more."

"Do you have any idea what sort of trouble we're walking into?" Ketch asked Castiel.

"No."

Ketch smiled. "Oh, good. I do like a surprise."

It didn't take long for Mick to tell you that the satellite had picked up the brothers in a gunfight with some paramilitary guys in a small cabin and the five of you figured out the best area between the cabin and Route 34 to wait for them as the sun dipped lower and lower. The sound of them stomping through the underbrush turned your attention as they came crashing into the small clearing.

"Sam, Dean." Cas said, relieved.

Both brothers breathed the angel's name and Sam wrapped Cas in a hug. "Mom." Sam breathed as his eyes fell on Mary. He broke away from Castiel and enveloped his mother in a hug.

Dean hugged the angel, next, watching as his brother attacked their mom with love. "Hey, buddy." Dean patted his shoulder and moved to hug Mary.

You tucked your hair behind your ears as they greeted each other with love. You almost felt like you didn't need to be there, that you shouldn't be there, like this was a moment for family and you should've stayed at the car with the British Men of Letters. You were contemplating sinking backward into the trees, circling back around to the Brits' Bentley and Mary's car, when Dean pulled away from Mary and pulled you to him.

He was clearly exhausted, and he smelled like sweat, gunpowder and mud, but he held you to his chest like he never wanted to let you go and it was everything your heart needed in that moment. "I'm so happy you're here, y/n. So glad Cas called you."

"Actually, Dean, I didn't have y/n's number."

"I happened to be with y/n when Castiel called me." Mary said, gesturing through the woods toward where the car was parked. Dean didn't want to let you go, you could tell, but he pulled out of the embrace and took your hand in his as you started toward the road. "This girl can hunt."

"Mom, how did y'all even find us?" Sam asked, as the group emerged from the wood line.

"They helped." She nodded at Mick and Ketch, leaning against the hood of their car.

"Hello, lads." Mick greeted.

"They have a thermal imaging satellite that saw you... from space." Cas' words were stilted, like he wasn't sure he was saying the right thing, and Sam and Dean both looked confused.

"Well, we don't have one, just borrowed it for a bit. Friends in all the right places." Mick corrected.

"Well, I guess this is where we're supposed to say 'thank you'." Dean stiffened and you squeezed his hand.

"No need. Happy to be of service." Mick said.

"Again." Ketch stressed.

"Okay, then. We should get." Sam said, gesturing at the trees. "The people we left, they'll call for backup any second."

"Uh, you left survivors?" Ketch asked.

"Of course they did." You answered, immediately, as Sam squinted at Ketch and nodded.

"They were soldiers, just doin' what they were told." Dean responded, like he was talking to a child.

"Still... a bit unprofessional." Ketch continued.

"What profession do you think you're in, Mr. Ketch?" You asked, pulling away from Dean's side and stepping closer to the Bentley. "We're good people. Good people don't kill unless they have to. Especially other people."

"We'll handle it. Let's get." Sam said as Dean pulled your arm until you were back to his side and the two of you headed for the back seat of the car.

Dean pulled you into his lap as Mary pulled off and headed North. "Shoulda called you before we went up against Lucifer... how long were you in the dark?" He whispered. He hugged you to him, running one of his hands down your back and sweeping the other up and down your thigh.

"I got a hold of Mary a week ago."

"Shit, y/n. I'm sorry. I didn't tell you because I knew you'd want to help if you knew we were going up against-"

"Satan? Of course I would've." You turned to look at him better. "You offer me a chance at epic status and then you go against Lucifer and you freeze me out?"

"I couldn't even imagine sending you into a room with Lucifer. The thought of what he could have done to you... I tried to call, but I couldn't." He shook his head.

"Well, I suppose not hearing from you, not knowing what the hell happened..." You smiled softly and ran your thumb across his cheek to rub away a smudge of dirt. "That's not nearly as bad as being murdered by Lucifer or locked up in Site 94."

"God, you're understanding." He said under his breath, before twisting your body on his lap so that you were straddling him, facing him. He cupped your chin between his hands and looked deeply into your eyes. "I hope you're still this understanding at midnight."

"What does that mean?" You and Castiel asked, instantly worried.

Dean shook his head, looking from your face to the clock on the GPS and back. "Look, what I need you to know right now, y/n, is that I thought about you every day I was in there. I dreamed of your face, your smile. Those pictures you sent me by your pool..." He smiled, softly, tears brimming around his lashes. "I need you to know that... you're my good thing, too."

"Dean, what-"

He didn't answer, pulling your head forward to lock his lips against yours. There was no tongue, no heat, in the kiss. It was every bit of sweetness and care that you'd imagined your first kiss with him might carry, but there was an undercurrent of loss and sadness, like it might be the last kiss, as well. He didn't pull away until the radio spontaneously turned on, sending static through the car as the engine died. "It's time." Sam said from the front seat as the car rolled to a stop on a small bridge over Timber Creek.

You all got out of the car and stepped around the car. "What's happening?" Mary asked. Your eyes were stuck on Dean's face.

"Yeah, Dean." A voice called from the middle of the bridge. You turned to see a beautiful woman, wearing a brown leather jacket and a black t-shirt, arms crossed over her chest. "Sup?"

"Billie?" Mary asked.

"Who?" You immediately snapped.

"The reaper?" Cas' question answered your own.

"I don't understand." Mary turned to look at her boys.

"Mom... that place... there was only one way we were getting out of there, and that wasn't breathing." Dean responded. You shook your head. You didn't understand. Well, you did, but you didn't want to. "So I made a call."

"Dean talked with her and then Billie came to see me. And we made a deal. We'd get to die and come back one more time, but in exchange..." Sam started. He was having a hard time looking at Mary and Castiel.

"Come midnight, a Winchester goes bye-bye. Like, permanently." The reaper said, smugly, as Mary stepped right in front of her sons. You sat against the hood of the car, hand over your mouth. No wonder Dean had kissed you like that. "And that is something I've been looking forward to for a long time."

"Why would you-"

Dean cut his mother off. "We were already dead. Being locked in that cell with nothing... I've been to Hell. This was worse."

"At least this way, one of us gets to keep fighting." Sam reasoned.

"You don't have to do this." You flinched at the harshness of the angel's voice.

"Yeah, they do. We made a pact, bound in blood. You break that, there's consequences on a cosmic scale. So, who's it gonna be?"

Dean was about to volunteer. If the kiss hadn't tipped you off, the way he looked at Sam would have, but before he could do what he was planning, Mary turned to face the reaper, pulling her gun from her waistband. "Me."

"Mom." Dean said. "Mom."

"No." Sam said. "No."

Billie flung the brothers backward. "You said, come midnight a Winchester dies? I'm a Winchester." Mary explained.

"Works for me." Billie responded.

Mary cocked her gun and pressed the barrel to her temple as you squeezed your eyes shut and the brothers shouted at her to stop. "I love you." She sniffled.

The sound of piercing flesh drove you to open your eyes to the vision of Billie with an angel blade through her chest, just in time for the blinding light of her dying to make you squeeze them shut again. Castiel looked fairly shocked that he'd killed Billie, too, as Sam and Dean got to their feet. "Cas, what have you done?" Dean asked, looking at the body.

"What had to be done. You know this world, this sad, doomed little world, it needs you. It needs every last Winchester it can get, and I will not let you die. I won't let any of you die. And I won't let you sacrifice yourselves. You mean too much to me, to everything." You were certain you'd never seen an angel cry, but Castiel was right there on the edge of it. "Yeah, you made a deal. You made a stupid deal and I broke it. You're welcome."

There was a long moment of silence before you pushed away from the car and launched yourself at Dean. The slap you administered to his dirty cheek made your right hand hurt. "You absolute-" You let your left hand swing. "-idiot! We could have found you! You didn't have to do this!" You went for another slap with your right hand, but Dean caught it.

"Ow." Dean said, pointedly, moving his jaw. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?! You were gonna kill yourself!"

"We hadn't decided which of us-" Sam started.

"Dean had! Dean knew exactly which one of you was gonna bite that bullet." Dean looked down, a confirmation of your theory. "You were going to have us watch you die!"

"Because I had to! And it's not like it'd be a first, y/n. Everyone here, except you, has died. Most of us in triplicate." He dropped your wrist and stepped back. "And when I made that decision, I didn't know you and Mom were gonna be here. I thought it was just gonna be Cas."

"And that's better? That you thought only your best friend was gonna have to see it, that's better?!" You were screeching.

"Yes! I thought Cas would take it better than either of the women in my life! Obviously I was wrong." Dean argued.

"Don't say it like that, like he made some hysterical decision based in emotion. He made the rational decision. He was cool as a cucumber when he decided to save your mom from having to clean up your fucking mess! She was also super calm in her decision. The only one acting like a woman here is me and that's because I'm so pissed off I can't-" You cut yourself off and turned to Mary. "Just drop me in Loveland. I'll find my own way back to my car."

"Oh, come on, y/n! You shouldn't-" Dean started, stepping forward.

"Look, I need a fair amount of time and several bottles of wine to process what just happened, so you're gonna get in the back seat with brother and the angel and you're gonna keep your mouth shut." You demanded.

Dean sneered as he got in the back seat, allowing the smaller-framed Castiel take the middle as you got into the front seat. You'd been driving in silence a few minutes when Mary looked at you. "You know, I could get you back to Missouri, y/n. It wouldn't be-"

"Loveland's fine." You said, biting your thumbnail.

Dean made a huffy, displeased sound, but you ignored it. You recognized that sacrifice wasn't a question for the Winchesters. If it saved the other, or saved the world, the brothers would die for it. Seems they got that from Mary.

You knew sacrifice was a Winchester staple, but you hadn't expected to have to deal with it, yet. To have to confront the reality that Dean was always going to throw himself on a sword at a moment's notice to save Sam or the world... you weren't sure you were okay with that.

[uomo-accattivante]

A long time ago, a grade-schooler got his hands on a spaceship. He followed the assembly instructions as best he could, snapping on the cannons, the landing gear, the tiny interstellar-chess table. Soon enough, Rian Johnson was holding his very own Millennium Falcon. “The first thing I did,” he recalls, “was throw it across the room, to see how it would look flying.” He grins. “And it broke.”

Johnson grew up, went to film school, made some good stuff, including the entertainingly twisted 2012 sci-fi drama Looper. He’s nearly 44 now, though his cherub cheeks and gentle manner make it easy to picture the kid he was (too easy, maybe – he’s trying to grow back a goatee he shaved); even his neatly pressed short-sleeve button-down has a picture-day feel. In late October, he’s sitting in an office suite inside Disney’s Burbank studios that he’s called home for many months, where a whiteboard declares, “We’re working on Star Wars: The Last Jedi (in case you forgot).” Johnson is the film’s writer-director, which means he ended up with the world’s finest collection of replacement toys, including a life-size Falcon set that nearly brought him to tears when he stepped onto it. He treated it all with what sounds like an intriguing mix of reverence and mischief – cast members keep saying nothing was quite what they expected. “I shook up the box a little bit,” he says, with that same grin.

Meanwhile, back in the real world, everything is broken. In the months since the franchise stirred back to life in 2015’s The Force Awakens, it has felt rather like some incautious child grabbed civilization itself and threw it across the room – and, midflight, many of us realized we were the evil Empire all along, complete with a new ruler that even latter-day George Lucas at his most CGI-addled would reject as too grotesque and implausible a character.

Weirdly, the saga saw it all coming – or maybe it’s not so weird when you consider the Vietnam War commentary embedded in Lucas’ original trilogy, or the warnings about democracy’s fragility in his prequels. In the J.J. Abrams-directed The Force Awakens, a revanchist movement calling itself the First Order assembles in Triumph of the Will-style marches, showing the shocking strength of an ideology that was supposed to have been thoroughly defeated long ago. What’s left of the government is collapsing and feckless, so the only hope in sight is a band of good guys known as the Resistance. Familiar, this all sounds.

“It’s somewhat a reflection of society,” acknowledges the saga’s new star, Daisy Ridley, who plays Rey, and who has gone from unknown London actress to full-blown movie star nearly as fast as her character went from desert scavenger to budding Jedi. “But also it is escapism, because there are creatures and there are people running around with fucking lasers and shit. So, I think, a wonderful mix of both.”

And the worse the world gets, the more we need that far-off galaxy, says Gwendoline Christie, who plays stormtrooper honcho Captain Phasma (as well as Game of Thrones’ Brienne of Tarth): “During testing times, there’s nothing wrong with being transported by art. I think we all need it. Many of us are united in our love for this one thing.”

The Last Jedi, due December 15th, is the second episode of the current trilogy, and advance word has suggested that, as in the original middle film, The Empire Strikes Back, things get darker this time. But Johnson pushes back on that, though he does admit some influence from the morally ambiguous 2000s reboot of Battlestar Galactica (which is funny, because Lucas considered the Seventies TV show a rip-off and urged a lawsuit – long since settled – against it). “That’s one thing I hope people will be surprised about with the movie,” Johnson says. “I think it’s very funny. The trailers have been kind of dark – the movie has that, but I also made a real conscious effort for it to be a riot. I want it to have all the things tonally that I associate with Star Wars, which is not just the Wagner of it. It’s also the Flash Gordon.”

As of late October, almost no one has seen it yet, but Johnson seems eerily free of apprehension about its prospects. He exuded a similar calm on set, according to Adam Driver, who plays Han and Leia’s Darth Vader-worshipping prodigal son, Kylo Ren. “If I had that job, I would be stressed out,” he says. “To pick up where someone left off and carry it forward, but also introduce a vocabulary that hasn’t been seen in a Star Wars movie before, is a tall order and really hard to get right. He’s incredibly smart and doesn’t feel the need to let everyone know it.” (“It felt like we were playing the whole time,” says Kelly Marie Tran, cast as the biggest new character, Rose Tico.) A few weeks after we talk, Lucasfilm announces that Johnson signed on to make three more Star Wars films in the coming decade, the first that step outside of the prevailing Skywalker saga, indicating that Disney and Lucasfilm matriarch Kathleen Kennedy are more than delighted with Last Jedi. And Kennedy’s not easily delighted, having recently replaced the directors of a Han Solo spinoff midshoot and removed original Episode 9 director Colin Trevorrow in favor of Abrams’ return.

The Force Awakens’ biggest triumph was the introduction of new characters worth caring about, led by Rey and Kylo Ren, plus the likes of John Boyega’s stormtrooper-defector Finn, Oscar Isaac’s Poe Dameron and more. Kylo Ren (born Ben Solo) lightsaber-shanked Harrison Ford’s Han, depriving Johnson of one coveted action figure – but the film left us with Carrie Fisher’s Princess Leia, now the general who leads the Resistance, and the climactic reveal of Mark Hamill’s now-grizzled Luke Skywalker.

The Last Jedi will be Fisher’s last Star Wars movie. In the waning days of the cruel year of 2016, she went into cardiac arrest on an airplane, dying four days later. Less than a month afterward, 500,000 or so people assembled in Washington, D.C., for that city’s Women’s March, and Leia was everywhere, in posters bearing her doughnut-haired image circa 1977, with accompanying slogans (“A Woman’s Place Is in the Resistance” was, perhaps, the best).

Johnson had grown close with Fisher, and is glad to hear that I visited her psychedelically decorated Beverly Hills house a couple of years back, where she did almost an entire hilarious interview prone in bed. Afterward, she cheerily cracked jokes about drugs and mental illness in front of a visiting Disney publicist. “You got to experience a little bit of that magical sphere that she created,” says Johnson, who went over the script with her in that same bedroom. “I’m happy I got to poke my head into that, briefly, and know her even a little bit.”

He left her part in the film untouched. “We didn’t end up changing a thing,” says Johnson. “Luckily, we had a totally complete performance from her.” So it is now Abrams who has to figure out how to grapple with Fisher and Leia’s sudden absence. (He is characteristically gnomic on the matter: “It’s a sad reality,” he says. “In terms of going forward … time will tell what ends up getting done.”)

Overall, Johnson enjoyed what seems like an almost unfathomable level of autonomy in shaping The Last Jedi’s story. He says no one dictated a single plot point, that he simply decided what happens next. And he’s baffled by fans who are concerned by the idea that they’re “making it up as we go along”: “The truth is, stories are made up! Whether somebody made this whole thing up 10 years ago and put it on a whiteboard and we all have to stick to that, or whether we’re organically finding it as we move forward, it doesn’t mean that any less thought is being put into it.”

Mark Hamill’s single scene in The Force Awakens lasts all of one minute, and he doesn’t say a thing. But it’s an indelible piece of screen acting with real gravitas, from an underrated performer who had become better known for Broadway and voice-over work – he’s been the definitive animated Joker since the early Nineties. (“With voice-over,” Hamill says, “I thought, ‘This is great! I can let myself go to hell physically! I don’t have to memorize lines!’”) As Rey approaches him on the lonely mountaintop where’s he’s presumably spent years studying the Jedi equivalent of the Talmud, Luke Skywalker’s bearded face cycles through grief, terror and longing.

“I didn’t look at that as ‘Oh, this is going to be my big chance,’” says Hamill, who has just shown up at Johnson’s offices and plopped down next to him, carrying a large thermos of coffee in the right hand that Darth Vader once chopped off. He has a trimmed-down version of his elder-Jedi beard, which he’s grown to appreciate: “I shaved, and I thought, ‘You know what, the beard does cover up the jowl.’”

Hamill is a charming, jittery chatterbox – turns out that even at his youngest and prettiest, he was a geek trapped in the body of a golden boy. He is excitable and wild-eyed enough to give the vague sense that, like Luke, he actually might have spent a few solitary years on a distant planet, and is still readjusting to Earth life, or at least movie stardom.

He admits to having had “frustrations over being over-associated” with Star Wars over the years – his Skywalking cost him a chance at even auditioning to reprise his stage role as Mozart in the film of Amadeus – “but nothing that caused me any deep anguish.” He still spent the decades since Return of the Jedi acting and raising a family with Marilou, his wife of 39 years. And as for his current return to the role of Luke? “It’s a culmination of my career,” he says. “If I focused on how enormous it really is, I don’t think I could function. I told Rian that. I said, as absurd as it sounds, ‘I’m going to have to pretend this is an art-house film that no one is going to see.’ ”

For his Force Awakens scene, he says, “I didn’t know – and I don’t think J.J. really knew – specifically what had happened in those 30 years. Honestly, what I did was try and give J.J. a range of options. Neutral, suspicion, doubt … taking advantage of the fact that it’s all thoughts. I love watching silent films. Think of how effective they could be without dialogue.”

Abrams had some trepidation over the idea of handing Hamill a script with such a tiny role. “The last thing I wanted to do was insult a childhood hero,” he says, “but I also knew it was potentially one of the great drumrolls of all time.” In fact, Hamill’s first reaction was, “What a rip-off, I don’t get to run around the Death Star bumping heads with Carrie and Harrison anymore!”

But he came to agree with Abrams, especially after he counted the number of times Luke was mentioned in the screenplay – he thinks it was more than 50: “I don’t want to say, ‘That’s the greatest entrance in cinematic history’ … but certainly the greatest entrance of my career.”

Johnson turns to Hamill. “Did I ever tell you that early on when I was trying to figure out the story for this,” he says, “I had a brief idea I was chasing where I was like, ‘What if Luke is blind? What if he’s, like, the blind samurai?’ But we didn’t do it. You’re welcome. Didn’t stick.” (He adds that this was before a blind Force-using character showed up in 2016’s side film Rogue One.)

Hamill laughs, briefly contemplating how tough that twist would’ve been: “Luke, not too close to the cliff!”

He had a hard enough time with the storyline Johnson actually created for Luke, who is now what the actor calls a “disillusioned” Jedi. “This is not a joyful story to tell,” Hamill says, “my portion of it.” Johnson confirms that Hamill flat-out told him at the start that he disagreed with the direction Luke’s character was taking. “We then started a conversation,” says Johnson. “We went back and forth, and after having to explain my version, I adjusted it. And I had to justify it to myself, and that ended up being incredibly useful. I felt very close to Mark by the end. Those early days of butting heads and then coming together, that process always brings you closer.”

Hamill pushed himself to imagine how Luke could’ve gotten to his place of alienation. A rock fan who’s buddies with the Kinks’ Dave Davies, Hamill started thinking about shattered hippie dreams as he watched a Beatles documentary. “I was hearing Ringo talk about ‘Well, in those days, it was peace and love.’ And how it was a movement that largely didn’t work. I thought about that. Back in the day, I thought, by the time we get into power, there will be no more wars. Pot will be legal.” He smiles at that part. “I believed all that. I had to use that feeling of failure to relate to it.” (We do already know that Luke was training a bunch of Jedi, and Kylo Ren turned on him.)

Hamill’s grief over the loss of Fisher is still fresh, especially since the two of them got to renew their bond, and their space-sibling squabbling, after fallow decades that had given them far fewer reasons to get together. “There was now a comfort level that she had with me,” he says, “that I wasn’t out to get anything or trying to hustle her in any way. I was the same person that I was when she knew me. … I was sort of the square, stick-in-the-mud brother, and she was the wild, madcap Auntie Mame.” Promoting the movie is bringing it all back for him. “I just can’t stand it,” he says. “She’s wonderful in the movie. But it adds a layer of melancholy we don’t deserve. I’d love the emotions to come from the story, not from real life.”

I mention how hard Luke seems to have had it: never meeting his mom; finding the burnt corpses of the aunt and uncle who raised him; those well-known daddy issues; the later years of isolation. “It’s the life of a hero, man,” says Johnson. “That’s what you’ve gotta do to be a hero. You’ve gotta watch people that you love burn to death!”

Hamill notes that reality is not so great either. “Sometimes,” he says, softer than usual, “you think, ‘I’d rather have Luke’s life than mine.’”

Adam Driver has a question for me. “What,” he asks, “is emo?”

Between training for the Marines and training at Juilliard to become one of his generation’s most extraordinary actors, Driver missed some stuff, including entire music genres. But the rest of the world (including an amusing parody Twitter account) decided there’s something distinctly emo about his character, with his luxuriant hair, black outfits and periodic temper tantrums. “You have someone who’s being told that he’s special his whole life,” Driver says of his character, “and he can feel it. And he feels everything probably more intensely than the people around him, you know?”

As anyone who’s seen Driver in practically anything, even Girls, could tell you, the actor himself seems to feel things more strongly than most. “I don’t think of myself as a particularly intense person,” he says, possibly not unaware that he is making intense eye contact, and that his right knee is bouncing up and down with excess energy. “I get obsessive about certain things and, like, enjoy the process of working on something.” He’s in a Brooklyn cafe, on a tree-lined street, that seems to be his go-to spot for interviews. He arrived early, fresh from shooting the new Spike Lee movie, wearing a dark-blue sweater over black jeans and high-top Adidas. Driver has a certainty to him, a steel core, that’s a little intimidating, despite his obvious affability and big, near-constant laugh. It’s not unlike talking to Harrison Ford, who played his dad. Until Driver’s character murdered him.

Driver, raised by his mom and preacher stepdad after his parents divorced when he was seven, doesn’t flinch when I suggest his own father issues might be at work. “I don’t know that it’s always that literal,” he says. He mentions that Kylo Ren also murders Max Van Sydow’s character, who was sort of a “distant uncle” to him. “No one asks me, ‘So you have a distant-uncle problem?’ ”

John Boyega told me in 2015 that Driver stayed in character on set, but that seems to be not quite true. Driver just tries to keep focused on his character’s emotions in the face of an environment he can’t help but find ridiculous. “Watching Star Wars, it’s an action-adventure,” he says. “But shooting it, it’s a straight comedy. Stormtroopers trying to find a bathroom. People dressed as trolls, like, running into doorways. It’s hilarious.” And when he wears his helmet, he can’t see very well. “You’re supposed to be very stealth, and a tree root takes you down.”

He refuses to see his character as bratty. “There is a little bit of an elitist, royalty thing going on,” he says, reminding us that the character’s estranged mom is “the princess. I think he’s aware of maybe the privilege.” He does acknowledge playing Kylo Ren younger than his own age of 34: “I don’t want to say how much younger, 'cause people will read into it… .” He flushes, and later says he regrets mentioning it at all. If it’s a plot spoiler, it’s unclear exactly how, unless it’s related to his unexplained connection to Rey. The two apparently spend serious time together in this film. “The relationship between Kylo and Rey is awesome,” says Ridley, whom Driver calls a “great scene partner,” apparently one of his highest compliments.

At first, Driver wasn’t totally sure he wanted to be in a Star Wars movie. I’m always skeptical of Hollywood movies because they’re mostly just too broad,“ he says. But Abrams’ pitch, emphasizing the uniqueness of Kylo Ren’s character as a conflicted villain, made the sale. “Everything about him from the outside is designed to project the image that he’s assured,” he says. Only in private can he acknowledge “how un-figured-out he is … how weak.”

Driver can make a passionate case for why Kylo Ren isn’t actually a villain at all.

“It’s not like people weren’t living on the Death Star,” he says, his brown eyes shifting from puppyish to fierce without warning. He seems almost in character now. “Isn’t that also an act of terrorism against the hundreds of thousands of people who died there? Did they not have families? I see how people can point to examples that make themselves feel they’re right. And when you feel in your bones that you’re supported by a higher power on top of that, and you’re morally right, there’s no limit to what you’ll do to make sure that you win. Both sides feel this way.”

You’re starting to talk me into joining the Empire, I say. He laughs and shifts his delivery one degree over the top. “So, the rebels are bad,” he says, connecting his fist with the table. “I strongly believe this!”

On an extravagantly rainy Thursday evening in Montreal, I’m sitting at crowded, noisy Le Vin Papillon, a wine bar ranked as Canada’s fourth-best restaurant, holding a seat for a Jedi. Ridley arrives right on time, in a fuzzy faux-fur coat and a jumper dress – “the dregs of my wardrobe,” she says. Her shortish hair is in a Rey-ish topknot that makes her way too recognizable, but she doesn’t care. “This is how I have always had my hair,” says Ridley. “I am not going to change it.” She’s been in Montreal for three months, shooting a Doug Liman-directed sci-fi movie called Chaos Walking – which “is a little bit chaotic, in that we’re writing as we go and everything,” she says. “I’ve realized I don’t work well with that.”

She’s on the second of two unexpected days off thanks to co-star Tom Holland (a.k.a the latest Spider-Man) suffering an impacted wisdom tooth, but she’s still deeply exhausted. 

“I need a [vitamin] B shot in my ass,” she muses, in the kind of upscale British accent that makes curses sound elegant. It seems already clear that typecasting won’t pose the kind of problem for her that it did for the likes of Hamill and Fisher. Instead, she’s just busy in a way that only a freshly minted 25-year-old movie star could be – and she still managed to fulfill a pre-fame plan to go back to college for a semester last year. “I have no control in my life at all,” she says. She has four movies on the way, not even counting the Liman one. “So there is a lot going on, and I have never had to deal with that before. I don’t think my brain can really keep up with what is going on.” She has full-blown night terrors: “I wake up and scream.”

Rey had an epochal moment in the last movie, claiming her lightsaber from the snowy ground, and with it, her power, her destiny, her place at the center of the narrative. Her turn. Ridley is still absorbing what that moment, and that character, mean to women and little girls. But she definitely felt more pressure this time around, especially because last time, “it was all so insane, it felt like a dream,” she says. “I remember saying to Rian, 'I am so fucking neurotic on this one.’ I was like, 'I am going to fuck this up. All these people think this thing. How do I do that thing?’ ”

Part of the problem may have been Ridley’s tendency to downplay what she pulled off in the first movie. Her heart-tugging solo scenes in the first act, especially the moment where she eats her sad little “one half portion” of green space bread, created enormous goodwill, in seconds, for a character no one had seen before. She mentions Harrison Ford’s effusive praise for that eating scene, to the point where he was “getting emotional.” “I don’t know,” she says with a shrug, ultimately giving credit for the impact to Abrams and the movie’s cinematographer, Dan Mindel. “I was just eating!”

But in other ways, Rey has given her confidence. On her current film, she says, she was offered a stunt double for a scene where a door would swing open and knock her back. She took Liman aside and said, “'Doug, I don’t need a stunt double to do that.’ And I thought, 'I don’t know if this would’ve happened if it was Tom Holland.’”

Unlike almost everyone else in the world, Ridley has known for years who Rey’s parents are, since Abrams told her on the set of The Force Awakens. Ridley believes that nothing ever changed: “I thought what I was told in the beginning is what it is.” Which is odd, because Johnson insists he had free rein to come up with any answer he wanted to the question. “I wasn’t given any directive as to what that had to be,” he says. “I was never given the information that she is this or she is that.” 

The idea that Johnson and Abrams somehow landed on the same answer does seem to suggest that Rey’s parents aren’t some random, never-before-seen characters. All that said, Abrams cryptically hints there may have been more coordination between him and Johnson than the latter director has let on, so who knows what’s going on here – they may be messing with us to preserve one of Abrams’ precious mystery boxes. In any case, Ridley loves the speculation: Her favorite fan theories involve immaculate conception and time travel. It seems more likely that she’s either Luke’s daughter or his niece, but again, who knows.

Back in 2015, Ridley told me she was fine with the idea of being seen as Rey forever, the way Fisher was always Leia. Now she’s changed her mind. “There are literally no similarities with Carrie’s story and mine,” she says, adding that while Fisher ultimately embraced writing over acting, she plans on continuing to “inhabit” as many characters as possible. On the other hand, “a lot of Rey is me,” she says, “but that is not me being Rey. That is parts of me being a character as Rey, because how could it not? So in that sense, I understand it, because so much of Leia is Carrie.”

This trilogy will end with Abrams’ Last Jedi sequel, and after that, it sounds like the main thrust of the franchise will move into Johnson’s mysterious new movies, which look to be unconnected to the previous saga. As far as Abrams is concerned, that will be the end of the Skywalker story. “I do see it that way,” he says. “But the future is in flux.”

As far as Ridley is concerned, the future of Rey is pretty much set. She doesn’t want to play the character after the next movie. “No,” she says flatly. “For me, I didn’t really know what I was signing on to. I hadn’t read the script, but from what I could tell, it was really nice people involved, so I was just like, 'Awesome.’ Now I think I am even luckier than I knew then, to be part of something that feels so like coming home now.”

But, um, doesn’t that sort of sound like a yes? “No,” she says again, smiling a little. “No, no, no. I am really, really excited to do the third thing and round it out, because ultimately, what I was signing on to was three films. So in my head, it’s three films. I think it will feel like the right time to round it out.”

And how about coming back in 30 years, as her predecessors did? She considers this soberly, between bites of Brussels sprouts roasted on the stalk. (We split the dish, which means she got … one half portion.) “Who knows? I honestly feel like the world may end in the next 30 years, so, if in 30 years we are not living underground in a series of interconnected cells … then sure. Maybe. But again, it’s like, who knows. Because the thing I thought was so amazing, was people really wanted it. And it was done by people who really love it.”

She thinks even harder about it, this new Star Wars trilogy that we’ve made up on the spot. “How old will I be?” she asks, before doing the math. “55.” She looks very young for a moment, as she tries to picture herself as a middle-aged Jedi. Then she gives up. It’s time to go, anyway; she has a 5:25 a.m. pickup tomorrow for her new movie. “Fuck,” Ridley says. “I can’t think that far ahead.”  

###

[carrotcouple]

WIP tag

List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or as little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on. This can be writing, art, vids, gifsets, fanwork, or original work!

I was tagged by the wonderful @peachchanvidel​

1) Haruka/Seiko ‘Lovely Complex’ Fanfiction.

“I’m sorry to cut this short, but I have to go somewhere.” Seiko smiled.

“Of course! Don’t let us keep you!” The first girl nodded.

“Ah, Seiko, wait!” Haruka said loudly all of a sudden. Seiko blinked at him in surprise and didn’t miss the way he easily pulled out of the first girl’s grip and also didn’t miss the way her heart warmed at that harmless action. “It’s already late and if you’re going to Risa’s place you’ll have to go across that street where the streetlights are being fixed, I’ll go with you. It’s too dangerous for you to go alone.”

2) Murtagh/Nasuada ‘Inheritance Cycle Fanfiction

“Will you allow me to heal you?”

“Yes…”

“Where are they going?!”

“Away.”

A sob made its way out of her throat. Her heart hurt.

“Try not to burn down Aroughs, would you? Cities are rather hard to replace.”

Everything around her was on fire. People who meant the world to her were burning. Tears were streaming down her face. The air was vibrating around her in a way that made her teeth jar. It was as if the wind was beating down on them in punishment and yet the fire did not cease. She fell to her knees, screaming, screaming, screaming someone’s name. To save her, to save the people around her, to see her one last time. She was dying, her body was on fire, her blood burned like oil. It hurt, it burned, it was the most agonizing thing she had felt in her life and through the fear and pain devouring her mind, she heard someone scream her name.

3) Jaeki Assasin AU.

“You look adorable.” Jaeha chuckled.

“Hah?” Kija made a noise of confused outrage.

“So this is what an artist’s workshop is like.” Jaeha moved on and looked around, still holding Kija’s face in his hands.

“It’s a mess,” Kija blurted. Jaeha looked back down at Kija.

“I was about to say it looked artistic.” Jaeha shrugged, that playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

4) Little Miracles (Teen Dad!Kagutsuchi AU)

“He’s coming this way!” Kagutsuchi shot to his feet and dived behind the sofa. He watched with narrowed eyes as the baby crawled over to Yata and the duffel bag.

“Kagu, can you stop being terrified of your own kid?” Yata asked, watching as the baby rubbed his face experimentally against Yata’s school uniform pants.

“Maybe he’s scared cause Take’s really small?” Sakuya suggested, crawling closer to the baby.

“I-I’m not scared!” Kagutsuchi hissed like a cornered cat. “Also, what the hell is that smell?”

5) Hanakotoba Gone Wrong (based off a conversation I had with @mokomokuren)

“I will inform her at once.” Kunimi turned and walked out. Ebisu sighed and sank back into his chair. It was exhausting, all this thinking of gifts and what someone would like most. If it had just been some random normal gift, he would have sent an envelope of cash or some check. But this wasn’t the kind if situation in which he could do that. It was a time that required ‘delicacy and sharp thinking’ as one of his female shinki had told him once when he was a child.

Ebisu grumbled under his breath and bent down to pick up all of the books. As he straightened up to put the last book on his desk, he slammed his head into the table. Letting out a muffled howl, Ebisu curled up on the ground and rubbed the back on his head. It was then he noticed the open magazine near his face. It was a section for women and it talked about western flower meanings. Ebisu sat up, crouched underneath his desk and grabbed the magazine.

6) Shin Soukoku Fanfiction

There was a sudden crackle in the air and then Rashoumon went right past his face and hit something behind Atsushi. Atsushi felt blood splatter against him and he fell to his knees, suddenly able to breathe. He looked up and saw Akutagawa walking towards him, his face contorted with pure rage. Atsushi ignored the cries of pain and terror behind him and leaned heavily on Akutagawa’s legs when he came and stood next to him. Rashoumon was doing all the work. Atsushi felt exhausted. He was tired and he wanted to both laugh and cry.

How ironic did they look? Special Task Force Detective leaning for support on The Black Beast? How did Atsushi’s face look, torn between sobbing his eyes out at the amount of fear that had hit him and laughing because he felt so relieved that Akutagawa had come to save him? Atsushi squeezed his eyes shut. A tendril of Rashoumon slowly curled around Atsushi, warm and pulsing with life and comfort.

7) Through Your Eyes (Blind!Kiun Takiun Fanfiction)

“Daddy! Look! Isn’t that man running there from Mom’s picture frame? Look at him dad-”

“Kiun! Get down!”

Kiun only briefly saw a truck run into the man he had been looking at a moment ago and his father swerved violently to the right to avoid crashing into the truck. Someone smashed into their car and for a moment Kiun saw the shards of glass from his window hang motionlessly in the air and then they rained down on him.

“DADDY!”

8) Zoe and Zander Universe (Original Story)

“Don’t I?” Zander grinned. “Anyway, now that we��re done with breakfast, we should get moving, Princess. We need to outrun our pursuers and find you new clothes.” Zander got to his feet and threw the apple core somewhere behind him. She got to her feet too and Zander barely had enough time to draw his dagger and block her. She growled in frustration as she tried to overpower him and stab him. “I thought we weren’t going to do this so early in the morning?” Zander asked. She glared up at him.

“You said you didn’t have breakfast, so I let you have breakfast,” was her answer. Zander wanted to slam his forehead into the nearest tree. Why was he stuck escorting this wild creature?

9) Lawlu (Vampire!Luffy Fanfiction)

Law stared, and the boy stared back. It took two seconds for the boy to recognize him.

“Geh,” The boy made a noise in between a gasp and a sound of disgust. “Got to run!” Law was ready this time. The boy had obviously been born with fast reflexes, but he wasn’t escaping from him this time. Law grabbed the back of the boy’s shirt.

“Oh no, little heartless boy, you’re not running anywhere.” Law said in his darkest voice.

“Why can’t I? I can do what I want! I have my rights!” The boy flailed his legs around wildly as Law held him up by the back of his glaringly red shirt.

“Little heartless boys are dead. And dead walking people don’t have rights.” Law replied. He allowed a manic glint to grace his eyes as he ran his tongue across his bottom lip. “You’re going to become my research subject, Mugiwara-ya.”

“EH?!”

Lesson of the day? I have too many WIPs.

Anyway, I tag @sapphiredragonprincess @rest-in-bees, @scarfblogs, @themusicalbookworm, @vida-connor and @pocketflutter

[tumblunni]

OH MAN I HAD SUCH A BAD SLEEP I took too many headache pills and forgot they contain caffeine and i was up all night Dying Of Tired and then when i finally passed out i had like five damn nightmares at once?? Its hard to even remember most of them but I just know I was really inexplicably legitimately panicked about a bunch of super arbitrary nonsense. Like.. brain so shot that I couldnt even compose a decent narrative for why the thing is scary. WTF...

Like at one point I was just reenacting the final boss fight from Deadly Premonition?? And like there’s a bunch of actual reasons why that thing pisses me off, like how cliche it was to make the One Fat Man In The Town the villain, and how suddenly we’re adding a really crass rape plot and LOL isn’t it even more gross cos he’s overweight. Right after a big ol ‘demon trans person’ fight and one of the most sympathetic characters getting dragged through the mud and discarded. Like seriously fuckin EVERYONE betrays you and then your love interest dies from monster rape while crying ‘don’t look at me I’m soiled’ and fucking PUNS cos evil fatman is some sort of plant monster. God I stopped caring about that game immediately, it went from zany weird to just horrible. ...but in the dream it wasn’t any of that sort of nuance, it was just me for some reason being legit terrified of evil fatman’s comedy boss fight. Seriously, after how detestable he is, they give you a stupid fatness stereotype joke fight where he bounces around like a terrible 60s b-list superhero. Why was dream me legitimately terrified of friggin yoshi ground pound man?! I think the real terror here was just that I was reminded this damn game exists.

And then also for some reason another part of the nightmare was Supreme Anxiety over designing a fan character for sonic the hedgehog?? Somehow I’d won the awesome right to add a character to the series and I was like BUT I HAVE NO IDEAS EXCEPT *points at literally the exact same sprite of my terrible super sonic recolour monkey oc from age 12, somehow blown up to the size of a building* And like I needed to demolish that but it was made of lego bricks, and I was all ‘aaa but i don’t even know if the character would be put in the games or the sonic boom tv show, they have very different sense of humour. do i have to make a playable character or just a comedy npc like the Meh Burger guy?’ incidentally sonic boom the show is awesome and reminds me of my childhood cos lol we got AoStH in britain instead of that grimdark future freedom fighters thing. That was our comic instead! its funny how similar the british and american comics are and yet how insanely different! but i still love a zany fourth wall breaking trash show and im so fucking happy we now have a way more well animated one! Anyway this was SO SUPER STRESSFUL cos I havent even been very involved in sonic fandom since I was a lil kid, but it was a thing I did with my now deceased grandma so its Kinda A Big Deal. I think dream me even considered making a character based on her, but I decided it was too close to eggman. She was such a supervillain of hugs! So yah it just ended with me at Green Hill Zone and then i fuckin run off into the distance and never come back. DONT GIVE BUNNI RESPONSIBILITIiiiiiies...!!

Also there was something about some sort of.. ghost phone app dating game? It was so weird cos I was a person sitting on a bus playing the app and then the love interest from the app actually got on the bus and I guess we were actually just texting? And for some reason I had to take pictures of the moon, which looked like a tiny head of eggman’s voiceactor with little stick limbs attatched. And a day and night cycle kept going super fast so i was like ‘ehh only ten minutes til another good shot’. And I guess the eggmoon got bigger to show your progress thru the plot...?? ‘That’s my favourite star’ says anime schoolgirl, romantically... So yeah all I knew was that this was somehow a horror game and supposed to have jumpscares, but I was like HELL YEAH DATING A GHOST! And then the plot twist was something like the bus was the bus to the afterlife and we were both ghosts. So like you’d get the bad ending for running away from ghost girlfriend and then find out the only thing outside the bus door is infinate blackness and You Was The Zombie Too But the bigger scary twist for me was that in this universe I’d died from being strangled by my abusive dad and then suddenly everyone was super unsympathetic to me and telling me I’d deserved it and oh man poor dad having to deal with a lil shit like me Zombie dating? perfectly fine! zombie dating an abuse apologist? NOPE.

And then i also dreamed about a neat game that I’m sad doesn’t actually exist. I was desperately trying to remember the name of it as if it did exist?? i feel betrayed?? XD It was something where there were four nature spirit boys and I had to help them regain their power and potentially have dating sim shenanigans I guess?? I just recall that they all started as a tiny mascot creature and it was that dumb cliche of ‘actually my true form was specifically an attractive person of the designated gender you prefer, at the exact same age as you! what are the odds!’ But they still looked pretty neat in their more humanoid form, they were still monster boys rather than the super superest of cliche dating sim characters. And I recall there was an interesting thing of every route being a wildly different genre? like they’d all start the same with me suddenly getting this weird mascot critter, but then the answer as to what exactly the spirits were and what his amnesiac memory was was always different. Like in one of them (fire, I think?) it turned out to be a post apocolyptic sci fi where the earth was running out of resources and children with psychic potential were kidnapped and turned into genetic experiments to create these ‘spirits’. They were more like humanized terraforming machines?? It was really kind of a neat plot twist?? And I recall that fire guy was a sad shy dood kinda like nageki from hatoful boyfriend, and his monster boy traits were interesting cos he had dusty grey hair with only a few scattered red strands, and it would blaze up into a burning white flame whenever he lost control of his emotions. (similarly with just a tiny red flame cowlick in the middle) And I think the water spirit was a very pompous kingly type whos mascot form looked like a slime from dragon quest. He was my favourite, he was good comic relief and very huggable! I think his plot got all twisty and sad tho, like it turns out he wasn’t the real king but just a clone duplicate made to use as a body double. And it was depressing that he was so convinced his memories were real and so utterly oblivious to the fact he was like.. melting, a lot, often. Thats normal rite? U just cant do it cos you’re a commoner! These magic powers are totally a thing of the royal lineage and not proof that I actually really am a dragon quest slime with a bad case of identity issues! Anyway we punched the jerkass king and rescued the real prince and they lived happily ever after as if they were just a regular set of twins. And human prince was all ‘I’mma be the best wingman!’ and kept teasing you about ending the story on a kiss. It was cute! I dunno about the other two love interests tho, I just definately know there were four of them for some reason. Also for some reason dream!me was constantly criticising the game’s art style, that was a little annoying XD

[queenisobelle]

48-Hour Tinder Journey

Modern dating is a very complicated thing as an in denial adult these days. If you are one of those singles among their group of happily married, engaged, or officially/unofficially committed group of friends, maybe you will wonder where you shall be seeing yourself years from now when you have set upon yourself the time or age of which you want to get married, have kids and start a messy but happy family. Pressures come everywhere ranging from social media memes to that aunt who keeps asking you about your plan on getting married. Why do they even do that? Will they pay for the wedding? Will they change those dirty diapers of your future little humans? The point is that those unnecessary single-shaming and social pressures come from everywhere and for someone who’s happy with his life, those things shouldn’t have mattered. Or if indeed they mattered, it wouldn’t have been such a big deal to stay as a lone wolf among the pack of hyenas which are high on endorphins.

Meeting in person comfortably is not for everyone so most people opt to use online dating. On a normal way of starting a face-to-face conversation with a complete stranger, it would’ve been awkward. I mean, how do you start a conversation from scratches? How do you approach a person without looking like a disoriented potato who forgot how to talk to humans? May it be on dating sites or social networks, the most common is through dating apps. One of the most popular apps is Tinder. Such app had existed for quite a while now that I even heard about it since I was in my junior years in college. Back then, I thought it was just a puzzle game app so I had to uninstall it out of disappointment when I found out that it was a dating app.

Fast forward. It’s 2020 and my bisexual male friend told me about how he met a decent guy from the app and how their first date went absolutely well so they eventually enjoyed the night that he ended up ditching our plans to catch up over a bottle of my favorite Mojitos tequila. He told me to try using the app coz you bet my magnetic bookmarks from Big Bad Wolf that I’m single AF. So I gave the app a chance and installed it and set a 48-hour countdown timer because the least thing that I want over my uncommitted hypothalamus is to be dependent on the app for social encounters. I’m an introvert and it could be a wicked thing to be stuck in a virtual dating app.

*I got mistaken as a trans quite a few times. LOL. Not offended, though.

Over the course of 48 hours, after countless “swipe lefts” and “swipe rights”, my profile had a few matches which means you both swiped right on each other’s profile signifying a mutual interest based on the displayed pictures and other details such as but not limited to age, sexual orientation and preference, hobbies, anthem, and a short bio of what you want the other person to notice about your profile. Out of those matches, not everyone is going to chat first so I did the first chat on some guys that I matched with. Out of those few chats, I have categorized the different types of guys that you can meet in Tinder into three categories: friendly, naughty, and boring. I can’t speak for the other guys that I didn’t match with or those guys that I matched with but didn’t chat either. The three classifications of the guys I chatted in Tinder are merely based on how they responded to my decent and friendly chats.

I figured out that most guys in that platform are not so bad at all. Most of whom I had encountered were friendly guys who share at least one same interest with me – books, TV series, travels, etc., etc. Some of them ended up being my friends or on mutual following in the other social media platforms. Those types of guys are usually easy going in chats and they actually keep the conversation alive and flowing. If given the chance to meet one of them in the future, I’m totally up for it and I'm sure it’s going to expand my friendship circle.

*I unmatched already so I cannot retrieve the convo from Tinder. We followed each other in Instagram so I had it, instead.

While most guys are friendly and decent, there are those assholes who want nothing but to hook up with girls. I know it’s the modern world where love is scarce and lust is rampant so having awesome sex is like the driving force for some people to date even without the mental and emotional connection to someone. Yes, this generation has gone so low to that level. So yeah, there are those who chat and specifically ask if I’m into hook ups or casual sex or FUBU but the thing is I am not. I know it would make me sound like a boring conservative but I still believe in love and the pure intentions of the soul. I dearly hope that those type of guys will realize that, too instead of just having the cliché mindset that “Boys will be boys.” The thing I hate about these fuckboys is that their hobbies of just fucking anyone available has been becoming a social disease which affects every life that they recklessly touch. I call it the “fuckboy chain reaction theory” which as I see is like a domino effect from engaging in casual sexual exploits. See for example, a fuckboy fucks a random girl and leaves her since it’s rare for that type of social engagement to be emotionally mutual. Then, the girl feels abandoned and desperately starts looking for something that she thinks is lacking in her life just because a random asshole made her feel that way. Next is that she eventually finds a guy that will satisfy what she thinks is lacking in her. Again, it’s rare for that type of social engagement to be mutual so either of them will feel abandoned and start looking again and so on. It becomes a recurring cycle of wrecking different lives in search for that emotional fulfillment from sexual feats. I do hope they find the one already so that the chain link will break. It’s not that I am against premarital sex. Just do it as long as you feel connected – not just physically. Again, some of these horny predators are in Tinder. Swiper, beware.

Most guys in Tinder are friendly and some are just horny assholes. Unfortunately, a few of them are just plainly boring. Late and thoughtless replies. Lame topics. Complete utter nonsense. I know, it’s completely normal to not know what to chat about but isn’t it just about the art of asking questions? Then again, we can’t force them to be someone that they are not so we are just going to leave them as they are. At least they are not those sexual predators, right?

I deleted my account as well as the app at the end of the 48-hour involvement, and left a message to all of those whom I chatted with because I wanted to be courteous and polite and also because I wanted to let them know. The message went like this:

“Hello! I’m uninstalling the app because my 48-hour personal trial is gonna end. Thank you for the time here. I’m gonna write a Tumblr post about 48-hour Tinder journey. Good luck!”

Tinder is not a bad place to be when you want to virtually meet people nearby. You just have to have the ability to discern people in swiping without initially meeting them. Also, be careful of catfishers and posers. If you get lucky, maybe you’ll find your one true match in this app. Some people actually got married after finding someone in Tinder. How cool is that? I’d rate the app 3 out of 5 stars since it has its pros and cons in terms of connecting with people. I wouldn’t recommend it as the main tool that you have to use for meeting people but it will certainly help you feel less lonely on your days of solitude. Happy swiping!