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busines-as-unusual · 4 months ago

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˖ ࣪ ⭑⟡Chapter 9 - And How Do You Manage? ⟡⭑ ࣪ ˖

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Content Warning in this chapter for: sexual harrasment, unwanted touching, and bad puns

You were sick. More so than usual.

Ever since that night with Alastor, you had a knot in your stomach that refused to go away.

Thankfully there was no shortage of work to keep your mind too busy to ruminate. Work with the hotel was smooth sailing. Music was planned, auditions wrapped up— as predicted Angel got a lead role— and rehearsals were underway. Between that and running your bar, you had no time to dwell on how Alastor caught you during a horrifically vulnerable and revealing moment.

You didn’t fixate on how tipsy you got and how that made you bold enough to initiate touch with Alastor. Or how he didn’t push you away and how amazing that felt. Not a single time. Especially not at night when you tried to sleep.

You certainly didn’t think about how whenever you and Alastor met in the hotel to review event progression he treated you no differently than before. How he behaved like his usual cordial, charming, irritating self, and never mentioned what happened that night.

You absolutely did not consider how he caught you at your lowest, knew your greatest shame, how he saw you… and nothing had changed.

Did you appreciate that? Or did you resent him for crossing that boundary with you without permission? Did that change the nature of your relationship with Alastor? Or was it foolish to consider that at all? Maybe it was foolish to think any of this mattered. Would ruminating on this drive you mad? Was that what Alastor wanted? Was that his game plan?

You didn’t know because you weren't even thinking about those things. None of these thoughts crossed your mind, not once, not one time.

And you definitely weren’t looking for Alastor as you, Charlie, and Vaggie assessed the hotel’s amphitheater. Nope! You were a businesswoman doing serious business things with professional-level focus.

The hotel’s amphitheater was beautifully grand: Plush red leather chairs wrapped around in a semicircle of the large golden stage with ornate apple designs and a tall satin curtain, white instead of red. Chandeliers made of hundreds of multicolored crystals sparkled overhead.

You couldn’t have imagined a better place for the performances. A part of you worried there were too many seats, but Charlie was confident every one would be filled. For whatever reason, you trusted her gut.

Crew members scurried around, cleaning or testing equipment. A flash of red in the corner of your eye; your head swiveled so fast your neck cracked. It was Niffty, scurrying along the seats and chasing some fuzzy, bug-like vermin with a sewing needle, getting close but no cigar.

“Hey, Niffty,” you called. She eyed the critter with a murderous intent before scrambling over with her usual big, happy, smile.

You fished out one of the knives from your garter and presented it to her. Instead of taking it, she stared wide-eyed in awe at you; The Lady of the Lake handing her Excalibur.

Charlie and Vaggie frowned with concern. Vaggie waved a hand in front of Niffty’s face. “Uh… Nifft? You good?”

Finally she spoke, her voice quiet. “Am I worthy?”

You played along. “The worthiest, my dear.”

Cackling, Niffty snatched the knife and jumped back into the hunt, weaving through crew members’ legs and knocking a few of them over. She chased the varmint onto the stage.

You cupped your hands, shouting, “Save me the bones!”

“Gotcha!”

Niffty swan dived off the stage and chased the critter out of the amphitheater, laughing like a mad woman drunk on power.

Oh god, what have you done?

You turned to the girls. “I’ll take full responsibility for the damages.”

“Oh, don’t worry about her.” Charlie waved away your concern, her smile uncertain. “I’m sure it’ll be fine—”

A distant shriek of pain— that could’ve been from anyone for any reason— confirmed her sentiment.

“Anyway!” Charlie clapped her hands and spun on her heels. “Things look like they’re going well here. How about we meet with Husk and go over the refreshment situation?”

It was bound to happen sooner or later.

The wall behind your headboard was thoroughly wrecked; peeling paint and crumbling plaster revealed the ragged brick underneath. Once again, your talent for picking lovers was a blessing and a curse.

Mostly a blessing.

You called some of your employees to have it fixed, and figured you might as well have the room repainted while they were at it. The whole process would be a few days at most.

Your home was made to entertain guests, not keep them. You needed a place to stay in the meantime, so you packed some clothes and your essentials and did what you promised yourself never to do… you checked into the Hazbin Hotel.

You could’ve stayed with Mimzy, it’s been a while since you’ve seen her. Or with Rosie and caught her up to date about all those things you weren’t ruminating on. You had plenty of acquaintances who would’ve let you crash on their couch for a few nights, but in the end you succumbed to impulses you knew would bite you in the ass later. You were a child told not to touch a hot stove… in this weird metaphor where you were also the mother telling yourself not to touch the hot stove.

You were your own worst enemy. Maybe your mother was right.

An energetic Charlie greeted you at the hotel, oh-so happy you’d be staying for a few days, followed by Angel, oh-so happy to finally have a night off from dealing with Valentino’s bullshit.

A night like this couldn’t go to waste, so Angel called Cherrie, and you along with Husk hit up Consent, the nightclub you’ve heard so much about.

It was either that or stick around and risk having an awkward conversation with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Ruminated-On.

Of course, you had to change out of what Cherrie had poetically dubbed, “old granny lingerie.” You wrangled together an outfit more befitting of a modern setting. You had a short wine-colored dress you accessorized with a leather chest harness with Succubi wings (because you used every excuse to wear it in and out of the bedroom). Once Cherrie squished your cleavage and mussed up your hair, you were deemed acceptable to leave the hotel.

Modern clubs weren’t really your style, but Consent was a pretty decent joint. The place was teeming with infectious positive vibes and the music was decent. At least you had a great time shaking your ass after a couple shots.

The thumping music and flashing lights moved you, and for a while your mind was free and blissfully numb as you danced with the Cherrie and Angel (drinking was more Husk’s speed). Cherrie ribbed you for how you danced, while conversation with Husk was a welcomed reprieve from the dance floor. The entire night, Angel insisted on taking pictures with everyone between shots of tequila and shots of even more tequila.

Speaking of which, it was your turn to buy drinks for the group. You brought them over to the corner table where your friends gathered and presented them all with a flourish and a big, drunken grin. “Voila, mes amis! Afterlife-saving alcohol. Buvons!”

“Don’t spill the good shit!” Cherrie laughed, helping you set the drinks on the table.

The four of you toasted with your shot glasses before shooting them back. It burned deliciously all the way down, warming your cheeks and relaxing your muscles.

You slammed the glass on the table with a big, contented sigh. “Ah! Just what I needed.”

“You’re telling me,” Angel said. “You’ve been tense for days. Somethin’ happen, toots? Ya ain’t getting laid enough?”

“Pffft! No! To both. I’ve been… overworked, ‘sall.” A very convincing dismissive wave of your hand. “Y’know with the event and my club and… stuff.”

Husk mmm-hmmed knowingly, eying you but staying quiet. As long as you’ve known him, he could see right through anyone and everyone. His six sense was what made him such a good gambler, good enough to be quite the Overlord, once upon a time.

“Well, maybe there’s been something… but it’s whatever, y’know. Hardly interesting at all.”

Cherrie leaned in, playfully jostling your shoulder. “C’mon! Spill it, bitch. You’re drunk enough to overshare.”

You considered it for a moment. Alastor already knew about the worst thing to ever happen to you. Telling these three how you felt about him couldn’t be any worse… or if it was, your fuzzy brain couldn’t produce the reasons.

Your fingers drummed the table. “I’ve been suffering… from a certain infliction…involving Alastor.”

“Certain inflict— the fuck are you on about?”

“She means she has it bad for Alastor,” Husk said before taking another swig of his drink.

Your fists pounded the table, mortified. “Husker!”

“What? It’s the fucking truth.”

“Seriously?” Angel asked in genuine surprise. “You have a thing for Freaky Face?”

Cherrie laughed. “Well fuck me double dead!”

You covered your face with both hands. “Is it that obvious?”

“Pretty much.” Husk shrugged. “I have no reason to give a fuck and I still noticed.”

You groaned, and dropped your face flat on the table, drinks clattering from the force.

“You wanna fuck the creep?” Angel asked.

“What?!” You lifted your head, chin on the table.

“I said…” He cupped his hand to his mouth and yelled over the music, “‘You wanna the creep?!’” His outburst earned your table a few semi-interested side glances from passers’by.

“Oh!” You laughed, flopping backwards in the booth. “Abso-bloody-lutely! The moment I saw him I wanted to jump his bones.”

Actually, the thought that ran through your head the night you first laid eyes on the drop-dead gorgeous stranger with the glasses and killer smile was that he looked like danger, vice, and sin… and that he probably ate people. It’s what spurred you on to steal him away for yourself.

No one ever said you were a well woman.

“Hold on a sec.” Cherrie brow creased over her eye and looked at you skeptically. “Ya serious with me right now?”

“Of course. Have you seen him?”

“Exactly why I'm askin’.”

You scoffed. “You must have cataracts because he is so goddamn fine, a certified looker and I am always looking. Very disrespectfully, I might add.”

“Look,” Angel said. “I'm not saying he's unattractive—”

“I am.” Husk and Cherrie said in unison.

“—but he's, like, the physical embodiment of a fuckin’ nightmare.”

“He is, isn't he?” You sighed dreamily, slanted smile on your face at the thought of Alastor. “I remember the first time I saw him grow in size to eat a person whole. He unhinged his jaw like a goddamn snake. I couldn’t sleep for days! And those weird magic tendrils he has make me—”

“No!” Husk held his hand, his face awash with absolute disgust. “No. Stop, goddammit. I’m trying to keep this shit down tonight.” He took a swig of his drink, as if to wash down your train of thought like vile medicine.

“Twenty or thirty years ago, I saw him with his coat off and his sleeves rolled up. His bare arms?” You fanned yourself dramatically at the memory. “Oh! I could double die!”

Cherrie laughed, smacking the table. “Girl, come on! You’re actin’ like some Victorian prude seeing ankles for the first time.”

“Sounds about right. I was raised by two of them.”

Angel frowned. “I thought you lived around my neck of the woods?”

“Mon ami.” You put a hand on his shoulder with a cheeky grin. “They’re called boats.”

He flipped you off with three-fourths of his hands; you and Cherrie burst out laughing.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Angel waved away your jest. “So Creepy Face makes you dehydrated, huh? Why haven’t you jumped his spooky bones yet?”

I cringed like he suggested I chew on broken glass for fun. “Be serious, Angel. You live with the man. You think he’d ever be receptive to <i>anyone</i> jumping his spooky bones?”

A shrug of both sets of shoulders. “Eh, fair. I always got the feeling he didn’t play on any team.”

“And that’s fine, y’know? I don’t want to change him or anything, but when it comes to Alastor…” You grabbed another shot and swished the clear liquid around in the small glass. “I’m a dizzy yuck carrying a torch for the gigglemug and I’m going mad as a box of frogs.”

“Uh, in fucking English please?” Cherrie asked.

“She means she’s down baaa-aaad.” Angel sing-songed, waggling his brows.

Cherrie chortled, throwing you a look of mock sympathy. “Aww! You want him to be ya <i>boyfriend</i>, ya sentimental mug?”

They laughed, and Husk shook his head in pity.

Thoroughly humiliated, you finished your shot. Then two more… and then one last shot for good luck. “Thank you all for the wonderful evening. Excuse me while I go play in traffic.”

You stood, but Angel grabbed you by the arm and pulled you back down. “Relax, toots. We’re just razzing ya.”

“Yeah, chill out, ya drama queen!” Cherrie slid over one of Husk’s tall glasses of alcohol, much to his annoyance. “Here’s what you’ll do. Down some liquid courage and screw the next guy you see. Random dick best medicine for a broken heart.”

Your nervous laughter was unconvincing even to your drunken ears. “A broken whaaaaat are you talking about? You… silly little lady.”

Cherrie rolled her eye. “Uh huh. Start chugging, skank!”

Husk argued this was a terrible idea, and Angel ended up playing mediator between him and Cherrie. You heard none of it as you downed a pint of whatever in six seconds. It was sweet and terrible, like dirty sugared nail polish.

A rush of warmth rolled through you under your skin, making you shudder. You stood with the empty glass, holding it by the rim. “Mish we luck, darlings!” Purposely, you dropped the glass, and ignored the shouts of protest around you as you bantered back onto the dance floor.

It didn’t take long for an over eager demon to approach you. You’d spotted him eyeing you earlier but didn’t pay him much mind. He was some type of weasel-faced demon with jagged teeth and a jacket over a garish button up.

You stilled as unwanted hands snaked over your hips from behind, making your skin crawl. Cologne flooded your nose, making you gag.

“Hey, honey tits. You’ve been dancing all night. Why don’tcha kick up your feet and sit on my face a while?”

No fucking thanks.

You looked at him over your shoulder, red lips curled into an unamused smile. “That couldn’t have worked for you before.”

He chuckled with unwarranted smugness; rancid beer breath wafted over your cheek. “Come on, sexy.” A squeeze of your hips, an unwelcomed hump against your ass. “Bet I can show you a good time.”

“For some reason, I’m doubtful.” You wiggled from his grip and turned to face him. “I must ask you to, respectfully, piss off. But please do have a terrific night, you noisome sack of soiled taint.”

You turned to walk away, but he grabbed at you again like he had the right, tugging on your tail, hard.

The ghost of a smile lived on your face as you swallowed down a terrified yelp. “You’re gonna take your fucking hand off me.”

He scowled like you were piss on the sidewalk he stepped in. “Look at Roman’s favorite little slut thinking she’s better than she is—”

A flash around your fist; you introduced his mouth to your brass knuckles. The bones in his jaw caved before he crumbled like a ton of bricks at your feet. All at once the music cut out as dozens of eyes suddenly locked on you and the man you sucker punched.

Your friends at the table stared at you, stunned. “What the hell?” Husk shouted. “It hasn’t even been a minute!”

“Oh shit!” A group of about ten or so men ran to the passed out bastard at your feet. “Oi, what the fuck! You killed Ricky!”

The bastard in question stirred, rolled over, and spat out a few bloodied teeth.

You motioned to him like a sack of laundry. “Ricky’s right as rain, fellas. What’s the problem?”

No surprise, you were the problem, if the several guns aimed at your chest were any indication. Angel, Cherrie, and Husk rushed to your side, guns, bombs, and cards out in defense.

Fist to jaw, you cracked your neck from side to side. “So you wanna dance?” You grabbed one of your thigh knives and flicked it, the blade extending to the length of your forearm. “Let’s cut a rug!”

“Oh, hell yeah!” Cherrie whooped, tossing a bomb up and catching it with one hand. “Let’s fuckin’ go!”

And fuckin’ go you did.

You rushed the nearest goon. Ducking under his firing gun, your blade cleaved clean through his kneecaps. He howled and toppled over, severed legs left standing right, blood spurting like a busted fountain.

Soon the battle unfolded into a blur of carnage and unadulterated violence. The crowd, desperate not to get hit in the crossfire, screamed and fled out the door in droves. A flurry of bullets, blood, and explosions rocked the building. You caught glimpses of the others through the chaos and smoke: Angel gunned down the larger guys in the back. Husk, quick as a whip, threw his playing cards, slicing through torsos and necks. Cherrie threw her bombs with reckless abandon, her laughter accented with explosions. And you twirled light on your feet, slicing and dicing with experienced ease.

The smoke cleared, the fight ending faster than it started, the night capped off with the four of you surrounded by massacred bodies and rubble. You ended up cutting a juicy fat check to the extremely pissed off owner.

The four of you rode the high of victory all the way back to the hotel, laughing and talking way louder than necessary. After exchanging good nights, you shuffled to your room, singing under your breath and rummaging your purse for your room key.

“Quand il me prend dans ses bras… Il me parle tout basaaassSHIT!”

Where was your key? You dug through your purse, even dumped the contents on the floor. Lipstick, condoms, and spare tampons spilled on the floor, but not your room key.

Shit.

Shit shit shit!

Husk wouldn’t be able to get you a second key until morning, and you had no idea what room he or Angel slept in. That left…

“… shit.”

You knocked on the door three times. Thirty seconds passed, a minute, the silence painfully deafening. You contemplated sleeping in the lounge when the door to the Radio Tower eased open.

“Ah, salut!” You leaned on the door frame and nearly stumbled. Despite your nerves, you couldn’t hide your dopey happy grin. “There's the man I wanted to see!”

Alastor's permanent smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Temerity! What brings you here at this hour? And in such a state?”

Oh, right. Once again you stood before Alastor splattered in the blood of your enemies. You two had to stop meeting like this.

“Listen, my door is all—” You clicked your tongue and pantomimed turning a key in a door. “And I need you.”

“To unlock your door?”

“… yes, that.”

A look flashed across his face you had no hope of discerning while inebriated. He stepped through the door and whirled his microphone behind him.

“I see! Well, I’m more than happy to be of assistance!”

You figured he’d use his freaky voodoo/hoodoo powers to summon a key, instead he strolled down the hall. Seconds passed before your three remaining brain cells figured out you should follow him. Alastor stopped in front of your room door. This was his way of messing with you, letting you know he knew where you slept.

…or maybe you were paranoid, but what was more likely?

Once at your door, he tapped it with his cane and the door eased open with a glowing green light. “There you are, my dear!”

“Merci beaucoup, Al-a-stor~”

You blew him a kiss and spun into the room, confidently inelegant. Alastor couldn’t help his hum of amusement. Even this sloppily drunk he found you to be more amusing than unsavory.

Alastor turned to leave when a terrified “Oh, bollocks!” stopped him in his tracks. Seeing you dig through your bra was not what he expected.

“Wait! Never mind.” You pulled your hand free and dropped three small white blobs on the dresser with a clatter. Teeth, Alastor realized. Sharp and jagged canine-like teeth.

A twitch in his eye as he regarded you. “Temerity, why were there teeth in your undergarments?”

“They’re not mine.”

Speechless. He was speechless, brow furrowed, head tilted to the side. Your blasé attitude left him with more questions.

You seemed to mistake his expression for annoyance. “‘m sorry about this. I know it’s late. I bet you were sleep sleep.”

“Not at all, actually.” He and insomnia had a complex relationship, to say the very least.

“Why? Because sleep is the cousin of death, or because it’s stupid?” You struggled with the lascivious harness strapped across your chest, pulling it off with so much force you nearly fell on your back. “We’re dead! Why do we even need to sleep? Or eat? Or have sex?”

Well, he could agree with two out of three of those things.

Alastor casually dusted off an outstretched sleeve and fixed his suit. “A very astute question, my dear. I’m afraid you’d have to ask the feathered schmucks stairs,” he said, using your own words from the other night.

You snorted, laughing behind a blood-speckled hand. “Alastor! Lord, you alway make me laugh…”

You rolled on your stomach, swinging your feet in the air and beaming at him with pure admiration, expression unfiltered due to your intoxication. “Remember that time at the bar? Those clods yapped and yapped about their old ladies, going on and on, and they started needling you about ‘your gal’ and you went—” you sat and cleared your throat, pushing up imaginary glasses. “‘My gal made a great meal, but I sure do miss her!’”

Alastor’s eye twitched. Your impression of him left much to be desired.

He didn’t listen as you went on to describe the night, because he recalled it clearly. He remembered that night decades ago at the speakeasy Mimzy worked. He’d spent many a night there schmoozing, drinking, dancing, prowling for possible prey.

In particular Alastor remembered the dark-haired, bright-eyed woman with far too much confidence who spirited him away to the dance floor, proudly declaring, “You look like a fella with stamina! You’re my partner now!”

He remembered sitting at the bar with you after hours of dancing and a few drinks in, hazy with smoke and surrounded by faceless dregs who jabbered on and on about uninteresting manners. His joke— really his attempt to steer the conversation off course— was received well by you alone.

Smile lines crinkled around your eyes as you snorted. Without skipping a beat, you said, “How sweet! My man only gives me the cold shoulder.”

He grinned, hardly noticing or caring when the others retreated from the bar. “To think he’d treat a dame like you so poorly. How tasteless.”

An exaggerated head shake. “I’m thinking of throwing him out.”

“In that case, I’d love to have you for dinner sometime.”

You leaned in, your permanent self-assured grin replaced with one of girlhood giddiness, in stark contrast to the jokes about cannibalism. “As long as it doesn’t—“ you stifled a laugh, “doesn’t cost you an arm and a leg!”

“Of course not, dear! Perhaps afterwards we can have a nice chat over a cup of Joe.”

You lost it, conceding to him the win in the battle of cheesy puns as you giggled like mad and wiped away tears.

Back in the present you swiped at tears of laughter and threw yourself back on the bed. “We were so dumb! It wasn’t even funny, I just—” A deep yawn rolled through you, “…appreciated your commitment… to the bit…”

You went silent, a soft rumble as your breathing deepended, and you fell sound asleep in an instant. Alastor would almost admire the ability… if it wasn’t simply because you were drunk. He’d seen you tipsy before, from afar at functions. Even when you two met you weren’t as wasted as this.

In your inebriated state you didn’t know what you revealed. Despite your candor about discussing your life on earth, you never mentioned your shared history with Alastor before meeting again in Hell. He thought you’d forgotten, but clearly that wasn’t the case.

He had to keep that in mind.

While brief, meeting you was a splendidly memorable night. At the time, he regretted never having the chance to meet with you again, despite your insistence that the two of you should. Someone like you was a rare fine, a true gem among the clods.

Alastor sensed you held similar secrets to him. Not necessarily that you killed people, but he could tell you protected yourself with charisma, hid behind smiles, and kept your true identity hidden within the depths of your soul. Despite your charm and wit, none of the people in your entourage stayed by your side as the night progressed.

Perhaps if one had you wouldn’t have met your fate that night…

Well! Enough reminiscing for one night! It was time for him to return to his Radio Tower, but once again something stopped him.

He looked over your sleeping form. Gentle snoring rumbled in your chest like distant thunder, a soft exhale escaped your parted lips. Your blood red heels (that most likely weren’t that color when you put them on) dangled over the foot of the bed.

His smile twisted as he took in your vulnerable sleeping body. What was it you said to him the night he found you, splashed with crimson in the same manner? Only an absolute fool would trust him absolutely.

Yet here you were, willing to be vulnerable in his presence.

Alastor could only fathom falling asleep in front of Rosie, but their relationship was the exception that proved the rule. While he meant you no physical harm and knew you didn’t fear him, it was appalling to him you’d choose to put yourself in this position.

Frankly, it was pure foolishness.

Perhaps the alcohol was to blame, but he doubted it. Coming to him was one option of many and you chose him. You trusted him.

For reasons he didn’t quite understand he found himself kneeling at the foot of your bed, ready to remove your heels.

It would’ve been more interesting to do this when you were awake. After all, most of the joy of violating one’s personal space came from annoying them, drawing expressions and reactions from them by mere proximity.

Would you be appalled and act disgusted by him violating your boundaries? Perhaps given your state you’d finally give in and confess to him. That could be fun, but nowhere near as satisfying if you did it clear headed, cognisant of the consequences.

Alastor found himself doing it anyway, gently slipping off one at a time and setting them aside. He knew first hand one shouldn’t sleep with shoes on.

Your skin flecked with blood reminded him of that night he saw your mask shattered in the perfect marriage of theatrics and brutality. His eyes glance to the blood smattering the fat of your thighs. An unfamiliar pang ached in the center of his being, a feeling he could only register as hunger.

How peculiar…

The feeling caught him by utter surprise. His taste in flesh never included friends; his psyche deemed them off limits and he was unable to view them as food.

But looking at you defenseless and covered in blood— like a wounded lamb purposefully dragging itself into the lion’s den— the uncomfortable longing stirring in him had to be hunger…

Alastor stood, more quickly than necessary, forcing his eyes off you and onto your room. Then he saw something that forced that feeling to rise into his chest, a final revelation before he vanished into the shadows.

Your radio from home sat on the nightstand.

A/N: Sorry I haven’t uploaded in a while. I got really depressed, got addicted to ai chatbots, and forgot how to write…

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funhouse-mirror-barbie · 9 months ago

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Rating Hazbin + Helluva Boss Characters based on if I could tell what animal/creature they’re supposed to be:

DISCLAIMER: This is not an attack on the creators or artists/designers for either show. I already went over the purpose of this on my first post here—I just like to review stuff.

Part 2!

SIR PENTIOUS—SNAKE—5/5

Yeah that’s a snake, man.

While I find some of Pent’s design elements cluttered, he’s actually one of the stronger designs in my opinion. I think the having his cobra hood act as his hair is fun and cleaver. It’s very easy to tell he’s a snake. Not sure why he has eyes on his tail/body? I think they could have just made them red spots but eh.

QUEEN BEE—FOX (?) WITH HONEY BEE ELEMENTS (?)—3.5/5

Bee’s a weird one for me b/c while her design is super super cluttered I can SEE how it could work, and I really do like fun cute fox and wolf girls. The ONLY reason that docked points is b/c she’s supposed to be a fox/bee hybrid (I believe?) but her ��bee” elements are so minute that if I hadn’t seen her in a big beehive, I would have just assumed she was as a fox with fairy/insect elements—I wouldn’t have thought she was connected to a honey bee at all. It’s a weird case where she is VERY obviously a fox but it’s not obvious at all that she’s a bee/honey bee. I did want to give a little extra half-point tho b/c I do like her little antennae ears. They’re pretty much the only thing that screams “insect” to me.

STELLA GOETIA—SWAN (?)—3/5

I think I may be going a little easier on the Helluva cast b/c overall they’re easier to figure out what animals they are. I’ve heard that Stella is supposed to be a Swan but I’m not 100% sure. This one is def more on me, but I initially thought that she was either a secretary bird due to her long lashes and the way her hair is styled, or a peafowl (which would make sense b/c her brother is apparently a peacock?) at least I can tell that she is a bird and her colors are accurate for a swan’s. I think the reason I would never have thought of her as a swan is mostly due to her beak size and color. But yeah b/c I can at least confirm that she is in fact a bird I wanna give her a higher score.

I would rate Pilot Stella too, but I don’t think at that point she was meant to be a swan, just a vague bird demon lady. At least I hope not.

MAMMON—SPIDER (OR CENTIPEDE? MAYBE??) —0.5/5

So. Like Angel Dust. The only reason I know that Mammon is a spider is because he was shown sitting on a giant spider web.

I really didn’t think he was a spider/spider-ish looking at all and I still don’t. Even the extra eyes they add to him sometimes didn’t immediately make me think “Spider!” just that it was a demon thing. He really just looks like a jester with extra arms.

His full demon/mega form also doesn’t look very spider-ish tbh, and was what made me wonder if he was actually supposed to be a centipede? I was really disappointed by his “final form” because it’s pretty much the same as his regular form but with more eyes and what I assume is SUPPOSED to be a spider abdomen ?? But then he does kinda scuttle like a centipede at the end so maybe he is supposed to be???? But then why does he have a big spider web???

Also, and I’ll be honest, this is just me being needlessly nit-picky and it’s a small thing but it just irks me personally b/c I don’t understand the reasoning behind this but like. I HATE that his extra eyes DO NOT stay consistent.

The first time we see his extra eyes it gives him a total of 8 so I was like “oh okay yeah so maybe just his final form will be a spider/spider-like BUT THEN HIS EXTRA EYES KEEP OSCILLATING BETWEEN 3 and 4 EXTRA EYES?

These shots are only a few seconds apart like why did they give him MORE eyes when he got farther away? They’re so small that they barely seem distinct? Like if he IS supposed to be a spider you don’t have to keep giving him eyes!!! Stop, stop, he can already see!!! 😭

Maybe he IS a centipede tho? B/c he DOES seem to have the little centipede butt horns (which apparently are just their very hind legs in real life)

And he def seems to move like one in that form. Man idk. Why even HAVE him in a spider web then???

Being an arthropod lover and not being able to figure out what the fuck kinda guy that’s supposed to be is driving me wild tbh 😅

Honestly if Mammon was just supposed to be a clown/jester I would have given him 5/5 b/c yeah that was immediately obvious. But it’s him being a jester-spider-centipede-thing that muddles things for me.

I would put Loona in here but I ran out of pictures for this post talking about Mammons eyes. She gets 5/5 cause. Yeah that’s a classic wolf girl.

#funhouse convo #media criticism #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel critique #hazbin hotel criticism #helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss beelzebub #helluva boss stella #character design

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synergysilhouette · 10 months ago

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Guide to my Rewrites (and other content)

I post a lot of things, and some of those things are rewrites. As such, I thought this would be a nice guide for fans of my rewrites in particular. I'm still adding new things! Lemme know what you think.

Alternate Takes (Disney)

These are projects that have the same characters and settings (for the most part), but different plot points. These particular alternate takes suggest ideas that would've made me enjoy the movie more (or at all) and aren't a fanfic so much as bullet points with pictures.

Aida

Pocahontas

Hercules

The Princess and the Frog

Tangled

Frozen

Big Hero 6

Moana

Frozen 2

Raya and the Last Dragon

Encanto

Strange World

Wish (Note: working on a full-length rewrite unrelated to the ideas used here)

I also did rewrites for two Dreamworks movies:

The Road to El Dorado

Sinbad

Reimagining Disney Movies

These are projects that take Disney's framework (ie a fairy tale) and create my own characters, plot, setting, and song titles for it.

The Snow Queen

Kingdom of the Sun

Rapunzel

Reimagining Disney eras

These posts are designed based on what if Disney eras made different decisions (either based on my own ideas or rejected concepts) for their films. Note: I made the revival post before the renaissance and post-renaissance posts, so they kind of flow in different continuities. I also wanted to include future ideas for Disney's next era. These posts also work independent of my "Alternate Take" posts.

Reimagining the Renaissance

Reimagining the Post-renaissance

Reimagining the Revival era

Plotting out the Reinvention era

Marvel

Not quite as detailed as my other rewrites, but I thought I'd include them.

Dr. Strange: Multiverse of Madness

Thor: Love and Thunder

X-Men (Because they have more content than my other Marvel things)

This pretty much just includes my rewrites.

X-Men: Evolution--New roster, Season 1, Season 2, Season 3, Roster (Timeskip), Season 4, and Season 5 (I did a poll months ago, and maybe I'll do a post brainstorming a Marauders spinoff).

Wolverine & the X-Men--New Roster, Season 1

Fox's X-Men films (I may remake this)--Part I (First 3 films) and Part II (Phoenix, NM, and Dark Phoenix)

Extensive rewrites

TV shows that I've remade episode-for--episode, perhaps removing and adding some as I see fit.

Miraculous Ladybug--Season 1, Season 2, Season 3, Season 4 (currently working on Season 5; been dragging my feet with that!)

Anime as comic books

Yes, this is a topic. I remember when I was in this headspace, and it was really fun. I basically reimagined what if popular anime had been created as superhero comic books that golden or silver age.

Dragon Ball

Naruto

Anime rewrites

Black Butler

Naruto: Part I

High Card: Season 1

Video Game Rewrites

These aren't quite as detailed as my usual rewrites.

Bayonetta

Fire Emblem: Awakening

Fire Emblem: Fates

Fire Emblem: 3 Houses

Kingdom Hearts

Hogwarts Mystery (MAYBE; ongoing internal discussion)

My OCs

This section covers my original characters for a few fandoms. Thinking of making OCs for books/anime/comics, but I do not have the confidence that I know the universe(s) well enough.

Fictif

The Arcana

Hogwarts Legacy

Baldur's Gate 3

Mood Boards

Just something I've made for fun to inspire others! Not an expert on making them, but it was still something I wanted to do.

My Wish rewrite (temporary)

Disney's Swan Lake

Disney's Hansel & Gretel

Disney's Rumpelstiltskin

Disney's Red Riding Hood

Sub-Saharan Disney musical

Disney Superhero Film

Japanese Disney musical

Actors who could play Disney villains

Choices: Stories You Play

REALLY into this game for a period--but it started to get awful when "Witness" came into play. Here's a list of reviews (which I've stopped doing) as well as concepts for new books (originally on Reddit before I got banned).

"Before I Say I Do"

"Celebrity Status"

"Summoned to Court"

"Arkikara"

"Fairy Godparent"

"Hierarchy: Scheming University"

"Willow Falls"

"Late at Night"

"Spellcaster"

"Four"

"America's Most Eligible" (Review)

"Desire & Decorum" (Review)

"High School Story" (Review)

"Rules of Engagement" (Review)

"The Freshman" (Review)

"Queen B" (Review)

Winx Club Content

Rewriting the Winx

Rewriting the Specialists

Rewriting the Villains

Monster High Content

Plotting out Gen 4

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samepisodebracket · 2 years ago

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justice for sam

If the spnepisodebracket craze has shown us anything, it's that the supernatural fanbase is extremely divided, with the lowly sam stan seemingly at the bottom of the pile. sam is always last in polls, so this is a bracket for the 10% or so who always votes for him. because yeah, there's 327 episodes of Supernatural, but how many are popular because of a dean or destiel moment? how many good episodes are drowned out because they focus on sam?

i've chosen, with some crowdsourced peer review (special thanks to @spneveryseason, @suncaptor, and @ambersock!) 125 episodes that are Sam Relevant. Some are extremely sam-centric, some just have a shot where sam looks like he's being crucified that gives me brain worms -- i tried to be generous about it to keep a relatively even seasons distribution! matchups will be random and polls will last 24 hours each. in the tradition of @spnepisodebracket (who this is obviously inspired by and would not be possible without!) i'll try to rb a gifset for every episode in the poll!

a final note: no this is not that serious but the criteria for voting here should be how good the episode is as a SAM episode, not as anything else, so please vote accordingly! i am making this for people who actually enjoy sam and if that is not you, then this is not the poll for you!

with that out of the way, here is the compiled list of episodes! voting starts this sammy sunday, 3/26!

Season 1 Pilot (1x01) Bloody Mary (1x05) Home (1x09) Asylum (1x10) Scarecrow (1x11) Nightmare (1x14) Shadow (1x16) Provenance (1x19) Salvation (1x21) Devil's Trap (1x22) Season 2 Simon Said (2x05) Croatoan (2x09) Hunted (2x10) Playthings (2x11) Houses of the Holy (2x13) Born Under a Bad Sign (2x14) Heart (2x17) All Hell Breaks Loose Part 1 (2x21) All Hell Breaks Loose Part 2 (2x22) Season 3 Bad Day at Black Rock (3x03) A Very Supernatural Christmas (3x08) Mystery Spot (3x11) Jus In Bello (3x12) Time is On My Side (3x15) Season 4 Metamorphosis (4x04) It's the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester (4x07) I Know What You Did Last Summer (4x09) After School Special (4x13) On the Head of a Pin (4x16) It's a Terrible Life (4x17) Jump the Shark (4x19) When the Levee Breaks (4x21) Lucifer Rising (4x22) Season 5 Good God, Y'all! (5x02) Free to be You and Me (5x03) Changing Channels (5x08) Sam, Interrupted (5x11) Swap Meat (5x12) The Song Remains the Same (5x13) My Bloody Valentine (5x14) Dark Side of the Moon (5x16) 99 Problems (5x17) Two Minutes to Midnight (5x21) Swan Song (5x22) Season 6 Exile on Main St. (6x01) You Can't Handle the Truth (6x06) Family Matters (6x07) Clap Your Hands if You Believe (6x09) Caged Heat (6x10) Appointment in Samarra (6x11) Like a Virgin (6x12) Unforgiven (6x13) The French Mistake (6x15) The Man Who Knew Too Much (6x22) Season 7 Meet the New Boss (7x01) Hello, Cruel World (7x02) The Girl Next Door (7x03) Season 7, Time for a Wedding! (7x08) Plucky Pennywhistle's Magic Menagerie (7x14) Repo Man (7x15) Out with the Old (7x16) The Born-Again Identity (7x17) Season 8 We Need to Talk About Kevin (8x01) Hunteri Heroici (8x08) Trial and Error (8x14) Taxi Driver (8x19) Pac-Man Fever (8x20) The Great Escapist (8x21) Clip Show (8x21) Sacrifice (8x23) Season 9 Holy Terror (9x09) Road Trip (9x10) First Born (9x11) The Purge (9x13) Meta Fiction (9x18) Season 10 Black (10x01) Soul Survivor (10x03) Fan Fiction (10x05) Inside Man (10x17) Book of the Damned (10x18) The Werther Project (10x19) The Prisoner (10x22) Brother's Keeper (10x23) Season 11 Form and Void (11x02) Baby (11x04) Just My Imagination (11x08) Oh Brother Where Art Thou (11x09) The Devil in the Details (11x10) Into the Mystic (11x11) Ouroborus (11x14) Red Meat (11x17) Don't Call Me Shurley (11x20) Season 12 Keep Calm and Carry On (12x01) Mamma Mia (12x02) American Nightmare (12x04) Rock Never Dies (12x07) The Raid (12x14) Who We Are (12x22) Season 13 Lost and Found (13x01) Patience (13x03) The Big Empty (13x04) Various & Sundry Villains (13x12) A Most Holy Man (13x15) Funeralia (13x19) Beat the Devil (13x21) Exodus (13x22) Let the Good Times Roll (13x23) Season 14 Stranger in a Strange Land (14x01) Mint Condition (14x04) Nightmare Logic (14x05) Byzantium (14x08) Prophet and Loss (14x12) Lebanon (14x13) Peace of Mind (14x15) Game Night (14x17) Moriah (14x20) Season 15 Back and to the Future (15x01) Atomic Monsters (15x04) The Rupture (15x03) Golden Time (15x06) The Gamblers (15x11) Unity (15x17) Inherit the Earth (15x19) Finale: Carry On (15x20)

Edits: Bugs (1x08) will be added, polls will not be completely random bc im not doing this for science im doing this to see a good episode win and my randomizer pit when the levee breaks against swan song in round 1

#samepisodebracket #sam winchester #polls #spn #spn polls

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maximumwobblerbanditdonut · 6 months ago

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SAS: Red Notice’ in Development 🤔

SAS: Red Notice 2 or

SAS: Rise of the Black Swan 2

SH’s film was retitled SAS: Rise of the Black Swan on Netflix to avoid confusion with the Netflix-produced film Red Notice, which was also released in 2021.

Coincidentally Red Notice 2 with Ryan Reynolds, Dwayne Johnson, and Gal Gadot, are prepared to dive back into their roles. expected to arrive by mid-2025 or late 2025.

SAS: Red Notice is based on Andy McNab’s book, and (SAS, 2) it is SAS: Fortress, and is not SAS: Red Notice 2. it’s a trilogy.

SAS: Red Notice, also known as SAS: Rise of the Black Swan, was a thoroughly mediocre action thriller. Sam Heughan's portrayal of Tom Buckingham didn't particularly stand out. SH will stop talking about James Bond once and for all.

Posted 16th May 2024

@bestjaydee - SH fans tend to reason more on the protagonist rather than the film itself or Andy McNab's book idea. They always overvalue his mediocre performance without understanding the requirements of playing the role. His fans can buy anything he sells or spend much money to get a glimpse of him but they will never make him a good actor.

In comparison, "Red Notice," with its A-list actors, is expected to be a more enjoyable adventure than the "SAS: Rise of the Black Swan" sequel.

@fantasy-sci-fi-tv-girl - If SAS: Red Notice did well in streaming rentals, it was because it found an audience among Outlander fans, who outrageously inflated review numbers. SH doesn't have enough skill to justify her character in the film with a cast that simply doesn't have enough charisma to fully engage viewers.

The important UK Critic's Consensus was Whether it's called SAS: Red Notice or SAS: Rise of the Black Swan, this is a thoroughly mediocre action thriller, that has been done before and executed better, trying to make a weak actor in a spy. Andy McNab's books had so much potential, but they decided to ruin it.

The UK reviews are important because the film is about a British author’s books and they know how the SAS works, and SH was an unequal special forces operator. They could make a second film or three if the new director wants because the Tom Buckingham series is a trilogy. But SH will never be on par with a SAS operator. Although a sequel to Sky Cinema's 2021 original, SAS: Red Notice, is reportedly in development, it's unclear if Sam will return to the cast.

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jrob64 · 11 months ago

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Hitting a High Note - A CS Modern AU Christmas Story

Merry Christmas everyone! While looking through my library of stories, I realized I've never written a Christmas story and decided to remedy that.

Special thanks and a very Merry Christmas to my loyal beta @hookedmom who has already agreed to stick with me and my muse through the New Year.

SUMMARY: Emma Swan talks her friend Killian Jones into going Christmas caroling, but she gets more than she bargains for when she hears him sing.

Rating: G (pure Christmas fluff!)

Words: 6227 (one-shot)

Also posted to Ao3 and ffn

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Killian Jones buttoned his black pea coat, then wrapped a festive green and gold scarf around his neck. After pulling a red knit cap onto his head, he checked his reflection in the mirror above his dresser and arranged his hair so that a few strands fell artfully over his forehead.

“I can’t believe she talked me into doing this,” he grumbled under his breath, but in truth, he absolutely could believe it. Emma Swan would be able to talk him into just about anything, seeing as how he was utterly and completely in love with her.

If only he was brave enough to tell her.

It wasn’t love at first sight for him. The first time he laid eyes on her was at the end of his second week in Storybrooke. She was tucked into her boyfriend’s side at The Rabbit Hole, a local hangout. That boyfriend happened to be Walsh Osterfeld, one of the most arrogant and irritating men Killian ever had the misfortune of meeting. He made the assumption then and there that the blonde who looked happy to have Walsh’s arm wrapped around her was just as bad as him.

But you know what they say about assuming.

In the weeks following that initial introduction, Emma frequently visited the library where Killian had just begun working. It turned out she was quite the bookworm, dispelling his theory that she wasn’t very intelligent, formulated solely because of who she was dating.

Usually, Killian politely waited on her while speaking minimally, but when she checked out a book written by his favorite author, he complimented her choice. Looking up at her when he handed her the receipt, he was frozen in place by the sparkle in her emerald eyes as she gave him a rather shy smile.

“Thanks,” she replied. “My ex told me he hated this author, and since he and I ended up not having much in common, I figured it was worth giving one of these books a try.”

“Your ex, huh?” Killian couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“Yeah, we recently broke up.”

“Sorry to hear that,” he mumbled, though he was not at all sorry.

“Don’t be. We dated just long enough for me to figure out he’s very annoying.”

“So, just a few minutes, then?” Killian quipped, then realized his mistake.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why would you say that?”

He felt his face heat with embarrassment as he reached up to scratch nervously behind his ear. “Oh, um, I…I saw you at The Rabbit Hole a while back and you were, uh, pretty cozy with Walsh Osterfeld. I’m not a fan of his.”

Emma looked surprised. “How do you know him?”

“When my brother was setting up his accounting office, he and I went to Osterfeld’s store in search of furniture. He tried to sell Liam the most expensive pieces on display and when Liam said he wasn’t interested, Walsh treated him like he wasn’t worth his time. I convinced Liam to leave and we hired Marco Booth to make everything he needed for half the price of what Osterfeld was asking.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Emma responded. “He treated all of my friends pretty much the same way - like they didn’t measure up to his standards. I got tired of it rather quickly.”

Killian hummed, then leaned forward to tap his finger on the cover of the book she held. “Well, I truly think you’ll like this. Hopefully, I’ll be working when you return it and you’ll be able to give me your review.”

“Chances of that are pretty good, because you seem to be here nearly every time I come in lately. You haven’t worked here long, have you?”

“Only a few weeks. My brother and I moved here after I recuperated from surgery.” He held up the prosthetic at the end of his left arm. “Liam hated living in a big city and since I no longer had a job, I decided to make the move with him. Once tax season was over in April, he quit his job at an accounting firm in Boston because he was planning to open an office here. The bonus is that Storybrooke is a harbor town. Liam and I both like being near the water.”

“How did you find out about Storybrooke? It’s a pretty obscure place.”

“Do you know August Booth?”

“Yeah, he goes to my church. Marco’s son.”

“That’s the one. He’s my brother’s friend and former college roommate. He told Liam there weren’t any accountants in this town. ”

“I’ve seen your brother’s office. I’ll probably be requiring his services on April 14th next year.”

He chuckled. “Even though he’s very good, we hope not everyone in town waits until the last day of tax season to employ him.”

“You’re good at what you do, too,” she commented.

“Well, it doesn’t take a genius to work in a library.”

“Maybe not, but it does take someone who is helpful, knowledgeable about books, and treats people with respect. I’m Emma Swan, by the way,” she said, offering him her hand.

He shook it. “Killian Jones, at your service.”

That was the beginning of their friendship. He started to look forward to her frequent visits to the library and their impromptu discussions about books and other things. He found himself telling her about the accident that cost him his hand and job in construction. He explained that with the settlement he received from workman’s compensation, combined with his savings, he was able to afford to move and take a job that, although it paid less, was far more enjoyable.

Soon, they were meeting in the mornings for coffee before she left for her job at a flower shop, and watching movies at each other’s apartment on evenings when he didn’t work. Her friends became his as they hung out together at The Rabbit Hole on the weekends, and attended the same church.

When the announcement about Christmas caroling appeared in the church bulletin, Killian didn’t give it a second thought. Singing in the shower was one thing, singing in public was quite another. But when Emma asked him to come along, explaining how much fun it was to sing to people who were shut-ins, lonely, or just needed some Christmas spirit, he caved. Now he’s a man in love with a woman who liked him only as a friend, doing something that took him way out of his comfort zone.

He had never been Christmas caroling before, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. He did know it would only be a small group of them singing though, which made him a little nervous. He felt more comfortable fading into the background in the middle of a crowd.

When he was growing up, his vagabond father moved their family often, not staying in any one place longer than a year or two. Liam took it as a challenge, making new friends and trying to fit in at every new school and neighborhood, but Killian grew more withdrawn and quiet. Even as an adult, he avoided situations which would draw attention to himself.

His phone buzzed on the dresser. Pulling himself out of his morose thoughts, he picked it up and read the message.

E: See you in 10 if you don’t chicken out.

The gif of a squawking chicken accompanying the text made him laugh. Emma had a knack for finding funny gifs and memes, which always brought a smile to his face. His thumb hit the microphone key and he spoke into his phone to record a return message.

K: I won’t chicken out as long as there are donuts & hot chocolate afterwards, as promised.

E: There better be, or I’m gonna be one cranky caroler.

After sending a laughing emoji, he stuffed the phone into the front pocket of his jeans, checked his reflection one more time, and left the small house he shared with Liam.

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Emma fluffed out her blond hair over the collar of her red winter coat and adjusted the buffalo plaid scarf around her neck. After tugging a gray beanie onto her head, she checked her reflection in the mirror, applied some tinted lip gloss, and gave herself a small nod of approval.

She felt a little guilty being so concerned with how she looked, because the idea of Christmas caroling was to make other people feel good. Besides, she was going with a group of her best friends, so it wasn’t a matter of trying to impress anyone.

Except Killian Jones.

“You are such an idiot,” she quietly admonished herself. “He’s just a friend and you’re not supposed to be looking for someone to date. Remember the promise you made to yourself after you broke up with Walsh?” she asked her reflection.

Just thinking about her ex-boyfriend made her cringe. She kicked herself many times over agreeing to go out with him. He was pompous, domineering and snobby, all things she despised in a person. Although, to be fair, she didn’t know those things when she first started dating him. They came to light gradually as she spent more time with him, leaving her with the feeling that she wasn’t a very good judge of character.

She didn’t think she was wrong about Killian, though. He was sweet, sincere, considerate and humble; any woman would be lucky to date him. Maybe she should try setting him up with someone. He was still fairly new in town, and hadn’t met all of her friends yet. Belle had just gotten out of a bad relationship, and Mary Margaret’s teacher friends, Aurora and Jasmine, weren’t seeing anyone.

She wondered if he was even interested in dating. In all the time they’d known each other, he never mentioned a significant other. Maybe he had a girlfriend back in Boston and just didn’t talk about her. Or maybe, like her, he’d been in a bad relationship and swore off dating.

Regardless, she was going to be late if she kept musing about him. Grabbing her purse off of the bed, she dug through it for her keys, then left her apartment and hurried outside to her car parked along the curb.

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Emma and Killian pulled up to the church simultaneously and parked beside each other. After unbuckling her seatbelt, she swung her car door open, got out and slammed it shut. She might love her little yellow bug, but it had some issues, such as the door popping back open if you didn’t shut it hard enough.

“Hey, Jones,” she called, walking around the back of her car to meet him. “Went with a sock hat, I see.”

“Pardon me?” he asked, puzzlement apparent on his stupidly handsome face.

“Your hat. I thought you would wear something different.”

She watched him scratch behind his ear, a habit she found quite adorable. “What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Maybe a top hat with a sprig of holly?”

“I agreed to Christmas carol, not to look like I belong in the ‘Christmas Carol’,” he replied, rolling his eyes.

Emma giggled. It seemed nobody could make her laugh more than Killian Jones, with his dry but sharp sense of humor.

“Are you ready to do this?” she asked, beginning to walk up the sidewalk to the church.

He fell into step beside her. “Uh, I guess.”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

“I’ve never gone caroling before,” he admitted.

She threaded her arm through his left elbow. “Well, there’s a first time for everything. It’ll be fun, you’ll see.”

He hummed and patted her arm with his right hand. “If you say so, Swan.”

“I do.”

They entered the church lobby and saw that most of the other carolers were already there. Ashley and her husband, Shawn, Mary Margaret and David, Ruby, Belle, Elsa, Anna and her fiancé Kris, and a few other people from their church - around fifteen in all.

“We’ll be singing to eight elderly church members and then going over to a nursing home,” Mary Margaret informed them as soon as they joined the cluster of people. “Since they’re spread out all over town, we’ll need to drive from place to place. We’ve already determined who is driving and who will be in each car. The two of you will be with us in my car. David will drive.”

“Why can’t I drive?” Emma asked.

“Perhaps because we all value our lives,” Killian teased, tongue in cheek.

“Hey!” Emma protested. “I’m an excellent driver!”

“It’s not your driving skills we question, Swan. It’s that dodgy excuse for a car.”

She glared at him. “Insult my car at your own risk, Jones.”

“I just did,” he assured her.

They realized the rest of the group had started to file out of the church, so they followed along, still arguing about her car. In front of them, Mary Margaret and David shared amused looks.

Just as Emma and Killian were settling into the back seat, there was a knock on Emma’s window. She looked over to see August peering in at her. “Got room for one more?” he asked, loud enough to be heard through the glass.

“Uh, sure,” Emma said, opening the door, then sliding over to the middle of the seat. August squeezed in beside her and she scooted even closer to Killian.

“Thanks,” August said. “I lost track of the time and was afraid I would be left behind.”

“It’s good to have you with us,” David commented as he put the car in drive and followed Kris’s vehicle out of the parking lot.

“Hey, August,” Killian greeted, leaning forward to speak around Emma.

“Hey, yourself,” August smiled. “Is Liam in one of the other cars?”

“No, I invited him to come, but he’s an old Scrooge and said it was too cold. It’s probably for the best, though. He’s a terrible singer.”

Emma elbowed him sharply. “Be nice.”

“Ouch!” Killian exclaimed. “Are you trying to break a rib, Swan?”

“Stop being so dramatic. You probably didn’t even feel it through all your layers of clothes.”

He continued to rub his side. “Once you hear my brother sing, you’re going to realize I was right, and then you’ll owe me an apology for bruising me.”

“I hate to say it, but I agree with Killian on this one,” August piped up. “Liam and I were fraternity brothers at college, and hearing him sing the Alma Mater had me wishing I could transfer to another university.”

Everyone in the car began to laugh. “Poor Liam,” Mary Margaret said when it died down. “We shouldn’t be making fun of him when he’s not even here to defend himself.”

“Liam is plenty talented,” Killian said. “Just not in singing.”

“Oh, don’t forget to buckle your seatbelts,” Mary Margaret stated, ever the designated mom of the group.

Killian felt Emma’s hand reach down between their hips and brush against his butt as she searched for hers, and he leaned toward her to say, “Um, that’s not your seatbelt, Love.”

She jerked her hand away quickly and he chuckled when he saw color fill her cheeks. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Think nothing of it.” He reluctantly moved closer to the door and pulled the buckles between them free so they could fasten their belts. “Maybe someday I can return the favor,” he continued, flirtateously waggling his eyebrows at her.

As he expected, she rolled her eyes at him playfully, then turned to ask August a question. Killian rubbed his gloved hand and prosthesis against his jean-clad knees, and looked out his window toward the sideview mirror, only to see Mary Margaret’s face reflected in it. His eyes widened and he felt himself blush when he saw the sly smile and sparkle in her eyes as her gaze bounced between himself and Emma.

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The first stop was a learning experience for Killian. He stood in the middle of the group and sang along softly, but mostly just watched the rest of the carolers and the recipients of their songs. Observing the smiles on all of their faces, his heart filled with the joy of the season

Marco’s house was the next stop and after they piled out of their car, August went inside to get his father. While they waited for him to bundle up and make his appearance, Killian edged closer to where Emma stood chatting with Mary Margaret.

When the dark-haired woman noticed his presence, she gave him a conspiratorial smile and subtly took a step to the side, leaving a gap beside Emma, which Killian filled immediately. He always liked listening to her voice as she sang the hymns in church and wanted to hear her sing the beautiful Christmas carols.

He watched her bounce on her toes and rub her upper arms briskly, breath coming out in steamy clouds. “Cold, Swan?” he asked.

“A little, but I don’t mind. It just makes me look forward to the hot chocolate even more.”

“I’m sure Marco will appreciate our caroling,” he said, stepping closer to her, hoping to block the wind a bit.

“Yeah, he will. He appreciates everything. I love his cheery outlook on life.”

“Aye, he’s a sweet soul…”

At that moment, the front door opened and Marco stepped out, followed by August, who descended the steps to rejoin the group. Mary Margaret began singing “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing” and everyone else joined in immediately.

When the song ended, Marco applauded, a smile lighting up his weathered face. “Now don’t be afraid to sing a little louder,” he said. “These old ears don’t work so well anymore!”

They appeased him by adding more volume to “Jingle Bells” followed by “Up on the Housetop”, complete with all the hand motions.

“Let’s do one more,” David said.

“Dad’s favorite carol is ‘The First Noel’,” August shared.

Everyone nodded their agreement and once again, Mary Margaret started the song. By this time, Killian felt more comfortable and confident in his singing, his clear tenor voice gaining volume. Every now and then, he saw Emma glancing at him, giving him a somewhat quizzical look. He briefly wondered what she was thinking, but he was enjoying himself and didn’t dwell on it.

When he hit the high note on the final ‘noel’ of the song, he was watching Marco’s beaming face, so he failed to see the look of awe on Emma’s.

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After bidding Marco goodbye and returning to their cars to travel to the next place, Emma sat wedged between August and Killian, trying to evaluate the feelings washing over her. Of course she liked Killian, and of course she found him attractive. She was a heterosexual female, after all. But after months of convincing herself that he was nothing more than her friend, suddenly her eyes were opened to the truth - she had feelings for him that went much deeper than simply friendship. It was as if that high note he sang hit her right in the heart.

“Alright there, Swan?”

She startled at his question and shook herself out of her musing. “Oh, um, yeah. I’m fine, just a bit chilly,” she replied, not looking at him. She didn’t want to risk him reading her thoughts.

Killian reached over to adjust the temperature setting on the console in front of her. His arm brushed against her leg, causing a rush of warmth through her that had nothing to do with the car’s heating system.

“Thank you,” she murmured, wondering why she hadn’t thought of doing that herself, while at the same time knowing it was because her mind was elsewhere. For the rest of the ride to the next location, she engaged August in conversation.

As the evening progressed, Emma somewhat successfully redirected her thoughts to the fun and joyful activity. Whenever they gathered to sing, she intended to put some distance between herself and Killian, but was magnetically drawn to him and his melodious voice.

After caroling at all of their scheduled stops, they made their way back to the church, where volunteers had coffee, hot chocolate and donuts waiting for them in the community room. Emma picked up her warm beverage and snack, then busied herself talking to Elsa and Anna. She saw Killian sitting with David and Mary Margaret, but didn’t join them as she normally would. Once her conversation with the sisters was over, she noticed Killian heading her way and quickly tossed her trash in the bin, then ducked into the restroom.

When she emerged several minutes later, Killian was leaning against the wall beside the door. “Swan, are you avoiding me?” he asked.

“What? No!” she immediately responded. “What makes you think that?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It just seems like you’ve been talking to everyone except me this evening. Have I done something to upset you?”

Her fingers began toying with the chain around her neck, a nervous habit of hers. “No, Killian, you haven��t done anything wrong. I just…I guess I was busy catching up with some of my other friends.”

Killian scratched behind his ear, a nervous habit of his own. “Sorry, Swan. I didn’t mean to accuse you. Of course you have other friends and want to talk to them. I shouldn’t have been so sensitive.”

Emma felt bad. Here he was apologizing when she had been avoiding him most of the evening. “Don’t worry about it, Killian. Like I said, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Looking around, she realized many people were getting ready to leave. “I think I’m gonna say goodbye to Mary Margaret and David and call it a night.”

“I think I’ll do the same.”

They walked together to the table where the couple still sat. After chatting with them for a few moments, Killian helped Emma into her coat and donned his own, then they exited the building. There was an awkward silence as they walked side-by-side toward their cars and she knew it was her fault. They usually spoke so freely and easily to each other, but now, her discomfort and confusion over her newly discovered feelings was driving an invisible wedge between them.

They reached her car and Killian yanked the driver’s side door handle, but it wouldn’t budge.

“You have to have the magic touch,” Emma stated. After breathing on the side of her balled fist, she rapped it on the doorframe just above the handle, then grinned at him triumphantly when she pulled on it and it instantly opened.

He was unimpressed. “I don’t think you need the magic touch, I think you need a tow truck,” he said dryly, rolling his eyes.

Giving a little huff, she settled behind the steering wheel. “My car might not be as fancy as yours,” she said, eyeing his Chevy Chevelle parked beside hers, “but it gets me where I want to go.”

“If you say so, Love,” he sighed. “Drive home safely.”

“I will,” she promised, then closed the door and fastened her seat belt. The VW’s engine roared to life, she pushed in the clutch, then shifted into reverse. After backing out of the parking space and putting it into gear, she waved at him and pulled out of the parking lot.

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Killian watched the dilapidated bug until it turned the corner, before he got into his own vehicle. As he traveled home, he wondered about Emma’s behavior throughout the evening. Everything seemed perfectly normal for the first couple of stops, but after caroling to Marco, she hardly said another word to him.

He racked his brain to figure out what he did to upset her, but couldn’t come up with anything. When they were in the car, she was either talking to August or appeared to be lost in thought. After arriving back at the church, he thought she would join Mary Margaret, David and himself at their table. He didn’t think anything of her talking to Elsa and Anna instead of sitting with them, until he was walking over to ask if he could get her another hot cocoa. She still had a small piece of donut left, but when she saw him coming, she tossed it in the trash and hurried into the bathroom.

It was at that point that he realized she was avoiding him for some reason. Even though she walked with him to her car, she still hardly said anything to him.

The Christmas caroling was fun. He thoroughly enjoyed the fellowship with the other singers and seeing the obvious pleasure the caroling brought to the recipients, but as he drove home, he had a hollow feeling in his gut. He wished he knew why Emma suddenly seemed uncomfortable in his presence.

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Emma couldn’t sleep. Once she got home after Christmas caroling, she soaked in a hot bath for a while, then tried to read, but her thoughts kept drifting, so she finally gave up and went to bed. Now, she was lying wide awake, while memories of the last seven months ran through her mind.

When had she developed romantic feelings for Killian Jones? And more importantly, what was she going to do about it?

She never had any luck with dating. Oh, she’d been asked out plenty of times, but it usually ended up being a one time thing. The only two guys she went out with more than once were Neal and Walsh, and both turned out to be losers. Maybe the problem was that she set her standards so high, nobody could meet them.

Killian Jones might just prove her wrong…if she gave him a chance.

Rolling onto her side, she stretched to grab her phone off of the nightstand and checked the time. Seeing that it was only a few minutes after eleven, she sighed. She felt like she had been in bed for hours, tossing and turning, trying to clear her mind of the swirling thoughts.

Almost subconsciously, she tapped on her messages app and scrolled through until she reached the thread with Killian. They sometimes texted late in the evenings, so she was sure he wouldn’t mind.

E: Are you awake?

K: No. Sound asleep.

E: Liar.

K: What’s up?

Emma hesitated before answering, debating whether or not to take a risk. Killian had become a good friend and she had no idea if his feelings were anything like her own. If she admitted them, would it ruin their friendship, or lead to something wonderful?

Finally, she made a decision.

E: Can I call you?

Within seconds, his name appeared on her screen as an incoming call. Taking a deep breath, she steeled her nerves and answered, “Hey, I hope you don’t mind me texting you so late.”

“Not at all, Swan. What’s on your mind?”

“I, uh, I wanted to apologize for tonight. You were right - I was avoiding you.”

There was a long pause before he replied in a quiet voice, “May I ask why?”

It was her turn to pause as she tried to establish what she wanted to say. “I didn’t know you had such a great singing voice.”

“My voice is what caused you to avoid me?” he asked incredulously.

“No, I…it’s just that I…” She heaved a sigh. “I’m screwing this all up.”

“Screwing what up?”

“My apology and my…confession.”

“Confession?” he asked, his tone heavy with confusion. “What are you confessing?”

“I…you know what? Just forget it. This is a conversation I’d really rather have in person.”

She heard him clear his throat. When he spoke his next words, she had to strain to hear him. “I can be there in fifteen minutes, Emma.”

“Killian, I’m not asking you to come over in the middle of the…”

“I know you’re not asking, but I’m offering. Is that alright with you?”

Emma plucked at her blanket, knowing she probably wouldn’t get any sleep until she talked to him. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Positive. I’ll change clothes and be there as soon as possible.”

“Thanks, Killian. Drive carefully.”

After his assurance that he would, she hopped out of bed and tugged a hoodie over her pajama top. Then she began pacing the floor as she waited, trying to compose in her head what she was going to say.

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Killian was never so glad that Storybrooke was small, since Emma lived on the opposite side of town. It also worked in his favor that the streets were nearly deserted and the town sheriff was likely snoozing in the police station, because he couldn’t help going a little over the speed limit to try to get there quicker.

His mind was racing, replaying what Emma said over the phone. A confession. What could that mean? Was she going to confess she didn’t want to be his friend anymore, or maybe she was dating someone? Engaged? Secretly married?

Stop it, he commanded himself. Of course she wasn’t married or engaged, or surely he would have found that out in the last several months.

Still, a confession usually meant something that was hard to admit. Could she possibly have feelings for him that went beyond friendship? Dare he hope for that?

Finally arriving at her apartment, he pulled up to the curb, cut the engine, and took a couple of deep, calming breaths. In a few minutes, he would find out whatever it was Emma wanted to confess. He just hoped he could handle it.

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Emma was still trying to figure out what she was going to say, when she heard a soft knock on her door. Always the gentleman, she knew Killian wouldn’t want to wake her neighbors by knocking too loudly.

She gave herself a quick pep talk as she crossed the living room, then turned the knob and opened the door. If she hadn’t been so focused on the upcoming conversation, she would have laughed at her friend’s untidy appearance. He wore a pair of baggy gray sweatpants and a navy blue hoodie with ‘Adidas’ emblazoned on the front in white letters. His usually neatly combed hair looked like he’d run his hand through it numerous times and she saw a bit of toothpaste at the corner of his mouth.

Stepping aside, she waved him into the room. “Thanks for coming over.”

“Not a problem, Love,” he said.

She closed the door and turned to face him. It was obvious he was just as nervous as her by the way he rubbed at the nape of his neck. “Do you want to sit down?” she offered.

“Uh, sure.”

He sat on the edge of the sofa and she dropped down onto the other end of it, fidgeting with the drawstring of her hoodie. After several moments of tense silence, she said, “I guess I owe you an explanation for why I acted the way I did tonight.”

“You don’t owe me anything, but I’ll listen if you want to tell me.”

She gave him a small smile and he encouraged her with a slight nod. “I…we, um, we’ve known each other for over seven months now, right?”

“We met in May, so that sounds about right.”

“You’ve become a good friend to me, Killian. You’re easy to talk to and you always make me laugh, no matter how bad of a mood I’m in. But tonight, when I heard you sing, it was…it was like a switch flipped and suddenly I realized I feel…different towards you.”

When she paused for a few moments, he coaxed her to continue. “What do you mean by different, Swan?”

Slowly, she pulled her eyes up to meet his, and the gentleness she saw in the blue depths gave her the courage to go on. “My feelings have gone beyond friendship. I…I think I’m falling for you.”

Holding her breath, she awaited his response. The stunned expression on his face had her rethinking her decision to tell him, but the grin that slowly stretched across his handsome features soon pushed that thought away.

“I’m really happy to hear that, Emma, and I must say that it’s about bloody time!” he blurted, his eyes sparkling with happiness.

It was her turn to be stunned. “Wha-...does that mean that…that you…”

“I’m falling for you?” he said, completing her question. “I already did a long time ago.”

“Y-you did? But why didn’t you tell me?”

He nervously scratched behind his ear. “I didn’t think you were ready to hear it and I was afraid my confession would drive you away.”

“That’s why I was hesitant to tell you, too.” She paused and squinted at him. “You said a long time ago. Just how long?”

“Remember that day in August when you talked me into going to the beach with you? I was so self-conscious about taking my prosthesis off and letting you see my stump, but you grabbed me by the wrist to lead me out to the water like it didn’t bother you at all.”

“Of course it doesn’t. I’m a fan of every part of you, Killian,” she said, reaching out to take his prosthesis in her hand. “That was a long time ago. You kept your feelings hidden really well.”

“It wasn’t easy, but now,” he said, moving closer to her on the couch, “I don’t have to hide them anymore."

“No, you don’t,” she agreed, moving easily into his arms and peering up into his face; the look of pure adoration he wore melting her heart, while at the same time, making it beat faster.

Without a doubt, she knew she made the right decision.

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It has to be a dream, Killian’s mind was telling him. Emma just confessed having romantic feelings for him and now she was in his arms, looking for all the world like she wanted to kiss him. This couldn’t really be happening, could it?

There’s only one way to find out, he reasoned. Closing the distance between them, he brushed his lips against hers, then pulled back enough to see her chasing after him, clearly wanting more. Who was he to deny her?

The moment their lips connected in a deeper kiss, the sparks flew. What he had been thinking for months was confirmed; he truly was in love with Emma Swan.

He would have happily continued kissing her for the rest of the night (or of his life), but a need for oxygen superseded his plans. Slowly opening his eyes, he took in the look of complete bliss on her face. “Emma?” he whispered.

When her beautiful green eyes blinked open, he saw the same happiness he was feeling reflected in them. “Yeah?” she breathed.

“I’m way past falling for you. I’m in love with you.”

It was his turn to hold his breath as he waited for her response, but not for long. Immediately, she surged forward to kiss him again. Then, as her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck, she replied, “Good, because I love you, too.”

Another breathtaking round of making out followed their declarations. Since neither of them was ready to let go of the other yet, they stretched out side-by-side on the couch, cuddling and kissing under a fleece blanket, while listening to Christmas music set to a crackling fire video on TV.

Soon, they were asleep in the arms of the person they loved. When Killian woke up In the morning with a crick in his neck from sleeping in an awkward position, he considered it well worth the pain.

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Emma sat in the church on Christmas Eve, listening to Killian sing a solo of ‘O Holy Night’. It had been a year since she declared her love for him and a lot had happened since then, not the least of which was him asking her to marry him.

When he hit the high note towards the end of the song, Emma felt the now familiar tingle run down her spine. She was sure his smooth, mellow voice would always have that effect on her. As the final notes of the song faded away, she met his eyes and knew he would see all of the love and pride shining in her own, even in the dimly lit sanctuary.

He rejoined her in the pew and she entwined their fingers, then leaned in to whisper, “It was absolutely perfect, my love.”

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A year ago, Killian didn’t want to sing loud enough for other people to hear; he never would have been brave enough to sing a solo in front of the whole congregation. Having Emma’s love changed that, along with so many other things in his life.

One thing that hadn’t changed was the fact that Emma is his best friend and soulmate. Having so few friends growing up, he cherished having someone with whom he could share everything. She is always there for him - listening, discussing, and cheering him on. Proposing to her was the easiest decision in the world.

It was her idea for him to sing a solo for the Christmas Eve service. As he prepared for it, he once again asked himself how she talked him into it, but the answer was the same as it was last year, when he made the momentous decision to go Christmas caroling.

He was utterly and completely in love with Emma Swan.

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Wishing all of you a very Merry Christmas and a New Year that hopefully has lots of new Captain Swan content!

Tagging: @hookedmom @kmomof4 @cs-rylie @qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @wyntereyez @the-darkdragonfly @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper @julesep3026 @courtorderedcake @lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @captainswan4life85 @bluewildcatfanatic @eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426 @julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling @andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @huntressandlioness1 @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones @laschatzi @zaharadessert @jennjenn615 @yasbio2015 @lyssapup27 @nachocheese-itsmycheese @singersdd @mie779 @undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @xsajx @jackieorioncat @teamhook @bdevereaux-blanche @soniccat @searchingwardrobes @jarienn972 @apiratewhopines @softkilly @goforlaunchcee @kymbersmith-90 @captainswan217-blog

#csff #CS Christmas #CS modern AU #Hitting a High Note #jrob64 #art by jrob64 #cs fanfic #Christmas fluff #Christmas caroling #friends to lovers

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silent-sanctum · 1 year ago

Note

hi mijin!!!! i love your fics so much and i really wanted to request a childhood best friend/ballerina reader x jotaro and he shows up to her show with his new red haired friend after 50 days of absence? sorry if it doesn’t make sense my english not my first language😭🙏💕

no worries! I got you regardless anon 😉 Though I gotta admit, I'm not too well-versed with ballet terminologies so I did what I can to give your request justice. Hope you enjoy 😊💌

Swan's Dance - Jotaro x Reader

word count: 3.5k

The sun was about to set, amber light spilling through the glass pane of the windows and casting shadows into the room you occupied. Dressed in tights, a form-fitting shirt, and a pair of slightly worn ballet shoes, you set your legs atop the bars before you started practicing, stretching yourself to ensure minimal injury.

Ballet has been something you’ve learned since you were 6. It was one of those life instances where all of this was inspired by one or two showings of your current interest. Back then, your family tagged you along with them to watch a ballet show in a foreign country and when the room dimmed to leave only the stage lights on, your eyes never left the dance presented to the audience.

You were mesmerized with how elegant the ballerinas performed on stage with their shining outfits and graceful movements, syncing themselves to the melody of the orchestra with clean-cut expertise.

Sooner or later, you wanted to be like one of them and led to your parents buying you the essentials for a beginner’s first ballet practice- a pair of ballet shoes, leotards, and tights.

You’ve yet to perform in a proper show, always to preoccupied with other responsibilities, but you never ceased practicing for when the time comes for you to shine, you would debut with a memorable “bang”.

It was fortunate that your school had a club dedicated for aspiring ballet dancers. Well… it was labeled as “contemporary” but it was similar.

And so with your form well-adjusted and set, you clapped to give yourself a little self-motivating boost and went over to your duffle bag to retrieve the cassette player. Though you did find the tape that had the recording of the classical music you’ve grown accustomed to, you couldn’t find the player itself even after shuffling through your stuff multiple times.

“Aish,” you groaned, raking your fingers through your hair. “Why- Did I even remove that thing out of the bag to begin with?”

Did I though? You thought back to the places you visited prior to now starting from the school’s entry and rationalized- classroom (doubt your teacher would allow music to be played there), restroom (why would it be there?), cafeteria (you rather not blast classical music for the world to hear), rooftop-

With a flicker of realization, you let out one heavy sigh as you slowly slumped over with your face in your hands. “… Shit.” You tend to review the steps in your head all the time and to do that, you played music and recalled what movements coordinated with the accompanying tune.

What inconvenient timing it was for your beloved cassette player to be left alone in a dusty rooftop that’s situated after three flights of stairs, probably locked at this hour too.

Now I can’t be at peace with one my stuff missing. That was grandma’s gift too… You threw both fists in the air and released a whine into the void. “And I changed too damn-”

“Hey.”

You dropped your arms immediately and turned to the doorway with surprise, not expecting anyone to drop by, most especially the infamous delinquent. You had to blink hard once or twice just to make sure you weren’t imagining the local bad boy leaning against the frame, one hand in his pocket and a cigarette in between his teeth. Jojo was it? That’s what my classmates been calling him as.

“H-Hi?”

“Looking for something?”

You looked away, sighing. “Well yeah, but it isn’t anything big. It’s just a personal belonging.”

“Is it this?” The raven-haired lifted the other hand from behind him to reveal a familiar square player. You widened your eyes and stood in an instant. He stretched out the device to you. “I found it laying on top of a broken desk back at the roof.”

“That’s mine yes!” You hurried over to him only to pause at the lack of “punk-ish” attitude from him. You narrowed your eyes with suspicion. “Hmm…”

He cocked a brow at you. “What?”

“Aren’t you gonna… you know… retract your arm or raise it just to toy with me? Or is there a catch I have to consider after I get this?”

This time, the delinquent tilted his head with obvious confusion and hints of irritation from the way his brows furrowed. “Why would I do that? Do you want me to do that?”

“No! No, I actually prefer things to be simple like this.” You chuckled, nervous and slightly embarrassed at yourself. He handed over the item into your possession. “I guess I watched too many shows is all.”

He didn’t bother answering back and you didn’t expect him to. “You know, 90% of the school’s have already gone home by this point. The sun’s setting and all but you’re still here.”

“Mom’s having guests over and getting bombarded with small talk when I arrive is something I’d rather not happen.”

“So you plan to camp in school grounds ‘til night?”

No response. Brave guy.

“Why don’t you hang here instead of aimlessly wandering around like a homeless person? At the very least, you have a valid excuse you can say to your mother why you went home later than usual.”

The delinquent regarded the suggestion, turning to look at you. “Teachers allow you to stay this late?”

You smiled. “I’m part of the contemporary dance club and our moderator is pretty lenient with us as long as we use our time wisely, but alas-” I gestured to the empty dance room. “The other members are not taking this whole routinely practice as serious as I am.”

He scoffed, mumbling under his breath. “Why bother joining in the first place?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” You said. “Well whatever. There’s a fan in the corner where you can use while you wait for time to pass.”

“… Okay.”

“Hold on!” You raised an arm, stopping him. His brows furrowed once more. “You haven’t told me your name yet, Mr. Bad Boy.” You held out a hand.

“Y/N.”

The raven-haired stared at the raised hand, shifting glances back and forth from it to your face. Eventually, he brought one hand out from his pocket and took your hand to shake.

“Jotaro.”

And just like that, the remaining hours continued with a one-person audience as you let the music echo in the space while your body flowed with the melody, synchronizing the steps you played out in your head onto kinesthetic movements.

The average time it took for you to be satisfied with what you did was around 4-5 hours with a few short breaks slipped in-between.

From time to time, you couldn’t help but keep taking brief glances at the delinquent sitting in the back of the room through the mirror, and it certainly wasn’t helping that the latter was also watching you throughout. Sure he took a couple naps, but majority of his time in the room, he kept his eyes on you.

Having people watch you wasn’t new since you had your family and a couple of past friends watch you do your routines before, but there was something different when it’s someone you just met that’s of the opposite sex and is notoriously known to be a rebel heartthrob figure among students.

You tried not to think about it but even to you, you had to admit it was hard to not be even a bit self-conscious when he’s in the room.

Hours passed and you wrapped up today’s practice. On the way out, Jotaro had offered to walk you home and as much as your teenage shyness wanted to say “it’s fine”, you realized it was late and the streets were mostly dark, increasing the risk of running into… unfortunate circumstances.

You got home safely that night and you were thankful that he made sure you were fine.

Unexpectedly, this wouldn’t be the last time you’d experience his stoic kindness or his prominent presence around you.

Ever since his first visit, the delinquent would always drop by the dance studio nonchalantly and when asked whether you forgot something again, he’d respond “no” and would proceed to take a nap inside until you finished practicing.

He probably wants to walk me home for my safety. But why? You’ve walked home by yourself before at night and you’re still in one piece. The realization of having him be by your side nearly everyday…

Your chest throbbed and you felt your cheeks fume at the idea.

Through the weeks, Jotaro resting in the dance studio while you executed the steps became part of both your schedules and you weren’t complaining. You grew to appreciate his company and unlike before, you started to feel comfortable and less conscious about what you were doing.

Though the focus of his gaze still caused the butterflies to swarm in your stomach.

Figuring he'd continue visiting, you started to talk to Jotaro during your short breaks. At first, it went as rough as you’d expect- an awkward opening here, him not replying there, and dead air everywhere. However, with enough time, you figured out what topics could encourage the delinquent to talk, and to your relief, the conversation turned from one-way to two.

Your topics started from the interests you both had, which then branched of to discussions of each other’s sneak peak into how their lives went, and it had reached to the point where you were able to freely rant about anything to your new friend.

At times, you were concerned if you started to become a bit overbearing for Jotaro to handle, becoming aware of how you began rambling about the technicality, history, and examples of favorite ballet shows. You’d gauge his body language and expression if he was, but none could be seen when all he showed you was him in a relaxed posture, angled slightly to where you were to let you know he listened despite hiding his face with his hat.

You’ve reached the point where even walks home became a trip filled with casual chatter with occasional stops at open convenient stores.

More and more, it grew harder for you to not blush and deny your growing feelings towards the quiet watcher. You kept those emotions to yourself for now, not wanting to rush things with him. Besides, you didn’t know how he would even respond to that.

And you’re not ready for his answer at the moment.

With even more passage of time, Jotaro grew more open to talk to you while you practiced. He’d question your choice of music, how you kept your form stable throughout the piece, and many more out of curiosity and you happily answered each one of them.

Wanting to push things a bit further, you turned to him and asked him to help you execute a couple moves during a pas de deux. It was a classic among popular ballet shows and just the thought of dancing alongside a partner made you giddy inside.

Of course, you shouldn’t be expecting the guy to do the standard stances and movements since he knew next to nothing about ballet, let alone contemporary dance itself.

Surprisingly enough, Jotaro accepted your requests and slowly approached you in the middle of the room and waited for instructions.

You thoroughly briefed him what should be done and demonstrated to the best of your ability on how to do them just to serve as visual guidance. You guided his hands on where they should be and may it be on your hands or waist, both touches sent tiny fluttering sensations throughout your body.

Soon enough, you started to practice your arabesques, promenades, and a couple of simpler lifts. The next few days of practice were rough by your standards, but it was fun and low-key exciting for Jotaro to be assisting you with practice. Whenever he’d make an error or you’d collide with him on a wrong turn, he’d make a tiny grunt and mumble a quick and quiet “sorry” and you’d giggle.

You weren’t complaining. In fact, you liked when the oh-so-cool bad boy of the school turned to a flustered mess but was still willing to learn to provide assistance in a field he’s not good in.

With enough repetition, you’d become surprised when the delinquent would become somewhat “precise” in his movements, and soon you were able to familiarize yourself with a couple of pas de deux stances and steps. When asked about how Jotaro felt about helping you, he simply said “it’s fine” albeit with faintly red cheeks and an averted gaze.

Hours of practice would eventually come to fruition when one day, your teacher announced that you would be the main dancer of an upcoming ballet performance in 2 months, and out of sheer excitement, you immediately broke the news to Jotaro the second you stepped into the dance studio.

“That’s… good news.”

“Right?! All my efforts have finally been recognized and I get to debut on stage!” You couldn’t stop yourself from hugging him nor did you notice what you’ve done. “To show my talents to others… What a dream.” You smiled against his chest, sighing to yourself.

“Oi…” You let out a “hm?” at your friend as you stepped back a bit to look at him. “You showed that to me though… aren’t you happy?”

“Of course I am!” You said with a wide smile. “I’m very much thankful for all you’ve done to keep me company when you could’ve just gone home.”

“In fact, I’m so grateful that I want you to watch my show! You did have to endure me sweating in tights for weeks, so you deserve to see me at my best in a proper dress with all the props and dancers and lights and everything else!”

Jotaro stared at you with wide eyes, unable to get his words in due to your eager ramblings. You snapped yourself out of your little happy bubble and cleared your throat. “Ah I mean, again, you don’t have to. I know you aren’t really into ballet or just fancy-shmancy theater in general.”

“I’ll go.”

You gaped at him with rapidly heating cheeks. “R-Really?”

The delinquent rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe I’ll change my mind or not. We’ll see.”

“Well if you do, I expect a congratulatory bouquet when I’m done with my performance,” You said, cheeky. “Just a little something like that would mean a lot for me~”

Jotaro had his brows furrowed in a way that he’s confused rather than irritated. To spare him from thinking further, you landed a playful slap on his bicep. “I’m kidding. You don’t have to do that. Though I do appreciate it if you'd come to the show for me.”

Knowing him, you expected him to follow his own choices and you didn’t need to force him if his choice wasn’t to go. Regardless, you held up your pinky finger. “Promise me you’ll at least try coming.”

He glanced at your hopeful expression and sighed, hooking your small finger with his. “Don’t take it personally when I can’t.”

“No worries.” You chuckled. “Just follow your guts Jotaro-ssi. Sometimes, it does make good decisions for you.”

The day of your performance dawned and here you were- waiting backstage, occasionally peeking through the red curtain to see the growing audience occupy their seats. To see if the delinquent came or not.

You saw your parents occupy their seats, alongside a handful of friends who wanted to watch you dance, but no matter how much you scanned through the numerous heads currently inside the theater, Jotaro wasn’t here.

In fact, you haven’t seen him for 50 days ever since you’ve announced that you’d star in your debut stage. He had been absent when you began practicing for it, and you believed that it was perhaps due to the other people now involved and he didn’t want to be standing awkwardly in the corner.

But a tiny part of you hoped that maybe he could have at least dropped by a visit post-practice or see him passing by a corridor or something.

You couldn’t find him anywhere in school as if he disappeared out of the blue.

“Everyone! Show starts in a minute! Get into your positions!” A staff member cried out and everyone hurried to their respective spots, and you knew they wanted you in yours as soon as possible.

You spared one last glance out the curtain and still haven’t seen him among the audience. You ignored how your chest seemed to cave in on itself from disappointment. Did he at least try like he promised?

The distracting thoughts immediately left your mind as soon as the music blared through the speakers. The other ballerinas stepped out into the spotlight first, dancing in sync to convey the story of the show. Soon enough, it was your turn to shine as the main character.

Just as you had practiced, you entered the scene with elegance and poise, putting all your emotions into your routines alongside your fellow ballet dancers.

However, in the midst of your steps just as the music swelled, you caught a glimpse of the theater doors open to an unfamiliar red-haired student with vertical scars over his eyes enter, ushering someone inside in a hurry. You had to look away for a moment just as your male partner coordinated with your movements, initiating a pas de deux.

Though once you got the opportunity you got to see the doors again, your breath left your lungs and a wide, relieved smile broke through your face the second you spot a familiar raven-haired delinquent stepped inside with one of his arms cradled in a sling and his face partially bruised.

Once inside, he looked towards the stage and for a second, your attention wasn’t towards the watching crowd but to him alone.

Jotaro came.

He kept his promise.

The show ended with a successful bang as loud rounds of applause erupted from everyone in the room as you and the others bowed.

Normally, you’d stay for a minute to congratulate the crew and the dancers for their hard work, but the anticipation of meeting with your friend came as a priority than anything else. You dressed back into casuals, faint traces of glittery make-up still intact despite your efforts in removing them, and you hurried out back.

You were met with the unfamiliar red-head together with Jotaro who had his face hidden under his hat and his free arm kept behind him as they approached you.

“Y/N right?” The other man said.

“Yeah?”

He let out a hand with a polite smile. “Kakyoin Noriaki. Pleasure to meet you.” You smiled back and shook it.

“Likewise.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you from a friend here.” He nudged the raven-haired forward, who still had his gaze averted away from you. “Seems like he’s had a lot of fondness over you, always mentioning how he had somewhere important he has to go after dealing with some familial issues.” Maybe whatever those issues were, it caused him to have that injury.

“Kakyoin, I swear to god if you don’t stop talking…” Jotaro grumbled.

But you didn’t care when your mind blanked at the thought of the delinquent fretting over how he can fulfill his promise to you. In a second, your face fumed and you burst in a fit of flattered giggles. “That’s sweet of you. I truly appreciate it.”

“Oh, and he has something to say as well.” Kakyoin elbowed his friend.

Jotaro, still embarrassed and shy, stepped forward towards you and you stood still, expecting whatever he had planned to be delivered to you. With a clear of his throat, he brought his arm out to reveal a bouquet of roses that had a little tag with your name written on it. “Congratulations… on your debut.”

You widened your eyes and your heart raced in your chest. “Y-You remembered?”

He nodded.

You accepted the token and hugged it close to you, finding the scent of the flowers much sweeter. “You didn’t have to but…” you smiled with so much gratitude that your eyes closed from the effort. “Thank you. I love it.”

The delinquent nodded again, this time with his cheeks a bright red.

In return, you inched forward and got onto your tip-toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. This time, he did turn to you with surprise. With open arms, you asked. “Can I?”

“You already did it once and kissed my cheek… what difference does it make?”

You took that as a definitive “yes” and you wrapped your arms around him, making sure not to hurt his broken arm. Jotaro huffed and lightly placed his uninjured arm on the small of your back. “I’ll assume that this sweet gesture of yours means that you’ll be coming by to visit me more often than before, right?”

Leaning back, you looked up to find Jotaro smiling faintly at you.

He nodded once more.

“I’d like that. Very much.”

#jotaro x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #jotaro kujo

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bitterwaters · 3 months ago

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Lacquer Brands

so one day I went to a fugue and wrote a 2000 word essay on nail polish brands

We got four tiers of nail polish brands: overpriced luxury bullshit, drugstore, boutique, and indie.

Overpriced Luxury Bullshit

Don’t buy these! Just don’t! You’re paying for name, not quality. Chanel charges $32 for an 11 ml creme, the second cheapest polish type there is. That’s ludicrous. Every review I’ve seen of a “high-brand” from a real swatcher has been negative. Fuck ‘em all.

Drugstore

This is every other mainstream brand, whether it’s from CVS, Walmart, or Ulta. Wide range of price and quality. In general, you’ll probably get what you pay for. Sally Hensen Insta-Dry is classic and Acceptably Okay; if you don’t have the patience for a full manicure, just slap some of that on. Look for brands that are 3-free or 5-free--that means that won’t have a few nasty chemicals. Anything over 5 is fake and doesn’t matter.

My preferred drugstore brands:

Zoya: Jellies, glitters, shimmers. Tends to have a very thin formula--leave the cap off for a few minutes to thicken it up.

Orly: Cremes! The absolute best, well-pigmented, buttery smooth cremes. Persistent Memory is my perfect dark red. The bottles are generously sized, they have a nice paddle brush, and I love the big rubberized cap. They’re just really pleasant!

OPI: I only use their matte top coat but I use a lot of it. It’s the best! Get their matte top coat! I’ve seen recs to use their polishes over Essie’s, but I’ve never tried either.

Boutique

Now we’re getting into the Good Shit. There’s a price jump here, but there’s also a huge jump in quality. These are small- to medium-sized online-only businesses with semi-industrial production and ample stock. They’re big enough to ship within a few days. They use a LOT more pigment and glitter than drugstore brands, and have far more variety in finishes.

You might see them on Amazon or Etsy--skip it and go order from their sites instead. Shipping costs the same and you can save up reward points.

Charmed Lacquer: Brand new, recently announced, will open in a week or two. Started by a streamer named Janixa. I’m not familiar, but her followers seem excited enough to check it out.

Cirque Colors: CONTROVERSY! I like Cirque. I have a ton of their polishes. A little pricey, but they have frequent small sales and are high-quality. Best known for the jellies and some really stunning magnetics like Mood Ring and Black Swan (which have since been rampantly duped). So why the controversy?

Mystery bags: idk people get het up about ‘em. I kind of feel like if you gamble on a bunch of polishes you don’t choose, you risk pruglies.

Coronation: This is a purple polish with a red-green shift shimmer pigment called, I shit you not, Unicorn Pee. UP was made unavailable for public sale years ago (the suspicion is that it’s now used in some currency). Cirque keeps finding stashes and re-releasing Coronation. There have been complaints that it’s not the same shade as the original, that it’s over-priced ($18.50 is a LOT for a polish), and the FOMO marketing. It always sells out fast. I have a bottle. It’s okay.

Jaritos: The current teapot tempest. Cirque just put out a Jarito-themed line of jellies that’s FOURTEEN FUCKIN FIFTY a bottle. Their regular jellies are two bucks less because JELLIES ARE CHEAP. They have less pigment than other finishes. Cirque has also been caught editing pics from swatchers. Some of the Jaritos shades are outright dupes of existing Cirque colors--but when Cirque reposted swatcher pics that compared them, they changed things to make them look different. Little shady!

I still got Mxcn Cola

Holo Taco: I don’t go to this school. It seems fine. Owned by a YouTuber with a pretty big following, Simply Nailogical. The brand has devoted followers, but I’ve never been real impressed. I feel like I can get everything they do somewhere else for a buck or two cheaper. Lots of limited-time bundles.

ILNP: MY LOVE! Shimmers, glitters, holos. Their formulas are just fantastic. If you follow lacquer reddits you’ll see a TON of posts featuring Flower Child and Fairy Dust; they aren’t for me but I see why people love them. They’re really good with shimmers--Flicker glows like a candle in a dark window. I also like their flakie toppers and magnetics. You really can’t go wrong with anything from ILNP.

One of the rare lacquer companies that doesn’t do FOMO. They never remove anything from their line-up. New collections get a 10% discount for a week at release, and they have an annual Black Friday sale.

KBShimmer: They’re pretty good! They don’t get as much love as I think they deserve--probably because they aren’t quite as flashy and highly-marketed as other brands. They also aren’t as heavily pigmented/glittered. Still pretty good though! I really love All Fired Up. They have big 15 ml bottles for only $12, no matter what finish. KBShimmer is a great place to start if you’re just dipping your toe beyond drugstore brands. Pick up their polish thinner (suitable for every brand except Orly) and glitter smoothing top coat.

Lights Lacquer: Don’t. They have some nice shades, though they tend to be as subdued as drugstore polishes. I was really disappointed by their cremes--the formula isn’t at all self-leveling. That’s just weird in this day and age. And then I found out that black swatchers refuse to work with them because the owner has been openly racist. Her non-apologies did not improve relations. Skip it.

Mooncat: CONTROVERSY! I have over a dozen Mooncat polishes and do love most of them, but it's getting harder to recommend the brand. They specialize in intense shimmer/glitter/holo/flakie/magnetics--all the fancy stuff. They have a few unique polishes that I haven’t seen duped elsewhere. Their formula can be gloopy, especially their flakies; easily fixed by a few drops of thinner. Why controversy?

they’re fukkin expensive bro. Like $15 a bottle. I do feel that you get what you pay for--it’s good stuff. I’ve never been disappointed by a Mooncat. But part of what you’re paying for is brand aesthetic.

they’re fukkin annoying bro. Their site, marketing, and even customer service emails are all lower-case dramatic gothy stuff. Never “nails,” always “claws.”

Their bottles keep shattering. This has happened occasionally in the past, then become more frequent starting in April. Seems like there was some supply change that thinned the glass. Mooncat was also filling about 14 ml instead of the promised 12 ml. Temperature and air pressure changes during shipping started to cause a lot of bottles to break. One person ended up in urgent care to get her hand stitched. Mooncat has promised to make changes and has been quick to refund/replace broken bottles, but there’s still a lot of ill-will simmering in the community. I think we’re past the tipping point--I’m no longer seeing broken bottle posts, just love for their new Power Puff Girls collab--but if you like something, I would wish list and wait another month. That should be enough time to make sure the bottles are safe and the weather has cooled.

Indies

Every single indie nail polish company is one or two people working out of their basement. That is not a joke. They hand-makes every small batch, fill the bottles, pack, and ship by themselves. That’s in addition to designing and testing polishes, and just living their lives.

That means that if you order from an indie, expect to wait. Most list a turn-around time of up to a month (they usually say 7-21 business days--people read three weeks but it’s a month). That’s padded to give them safety--nearly all will ship within a week, maybe two. But if they get hit with life stuff or a ton of orders, it really can take a while. My longest order took over a month arrive. It was entirely worth it.

Indies tend to have a big focus on fancy finishes. The biggest trend right now is sheer lacquers that are loaded with aurora shimmer. They’re color-shifty and glowy, and a lot of fun. That’s starting to stagnate a bit--every base color/shimmer combination has been done, so a lot of dupes are emerging--but it’s also starting to evolve. I’m seeing more and more shimmers that also have holo, flakes, or reflective glitter. I’m betting we’ll get some thermal shimmers as fall rolls in and temperatures drop.

Indies have some phenomenal variety and creativity. They’re doing the coolest stuff with the most love. Many also rely heavily on FOMO, and some are just plain not open much of the time. Instead, they have monthly or seasonal release windows. They usually drop a new collection and may retire old ones.

How do you keep track? The Reddit Laquerists (sic) Nail Polish Release Calendar. You can also subscribe to brand newsletters--most give a small coupon on your first order. A lot are on Instagram and Facebook.

There are at least two dozen indie brands, and it’s hard to know where to start. I highly recommend Lyn B. Designs. I love her lacquers, absolutely flawless formula. She has big bottles, fast turn-around, and lots of variety. Get her top coat! It’s the best. But most importantly, she has a 50% off code for ALL products every time she launches a new collection. You can get top-quality lacquers for $6 each, and the big top coat refill for $12.50. No brand of any size can match that value. You can either follow her on Facebook for the code or check the calendar on launch day.

Others I like, in no particular order:

Bee’s Knees, Dam, Polished for Days, Great Lakes Lacquers for fantastic shimmers and reflectives. Garden Path and Rogue Lacquers have great flakies. Lurid Lacquer is pretty new, and she’s doing some really interesting things with intense shimmers and color-shifty chromes. Sassy Sauce keeps a small, tidy line-up, but it’s all quality and creative stuff. She’ll also have some nice thermals once October hits--she doesn’t ship them during summer, which I respect.

Cupcake is kind of a workhorse brand like KBShimmer: nothing too spectacular, but everything is solid and reasonably priced. Likewise, Glisten & Glow isn't too exciting but IS cheap and high-quality. Emily de Molly is Just Good. Drunk Fairy has really nice jellies and cremes. Wildflower Lacquers is closed for rebranding, back 09/06; I don’t have any from her yet but I gotta give props for big bottles, a fan brush, and surviving in Oklahoma.

Death Valley Nails is a little pricey but they’re doing the weirdest, most absolutely unique shit out there. They’re making polish out of rocks and wildflowers. One looks like the sink after your boyfriend shaves. It’s great.

Clionadh gets some hype but IMO they’re overpriced and overrated. They definitely up the saturation on swatch pics. I’m unimpressed by Femme Fatale’s formula and teeny 9 ml size. Shleee polishes don’t self level at all. Stella Chroma still sells Harry Potter themed polishes and I'm very over that.

But really, the best way to check out indie brands is…

Indie Preorders

There are two big indie collabs every month that work on a pre-order basis: Polish Pickup and Hella Handmade Creations. They open for a week each month and feature unique, one-time only products from a ton of indie brands. They can cause major FOMO. If you feel that might not be healthy for you, stay away! But if you’re okay with the possibility that you may never be able to replace a bottle you finish off, you’ll find some great stuff. They’re an excellent way to explore new brands, and creators get to be a little experimental. PPU has fun monthly themes; HHC doesn’t have a general theme, but many creators do a series of fandom-themed designed. Indie polish creators tend to be pretty nerdy.

If you want to try non-US brands, go to Color4Nails.They’re a stockist that carries several brands, drugstore, boutique, and indie. They also have monthly pre-orders for a few Brazilian brands like Phoenix Indie Polish and Penelope Luz. I find the Brazilian brands to be a little pricey, with smallish bottles and fairly thin consistency, but they’re doing some interesting stuff. I’m pretty consistently impressed with Phoenix; PL less so.

#nails #I have a few posts I'm going to schedule during the next week #they are not remotely this long

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anaxenxelxmachen · 1 year ago

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I've been getting some 4n4/3D films in so here's some reviews (so far) -

To The Bone (2017) - ⭐⭐⭐/⭐⭐⭐⭐- pretty entertaining but doesn't really feel too relatable.

Honey Sickness (2011) - ⭐⭐⭐/⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - I honestly watched this without subtitles on Tubi (it's an Italian movie) so I might have rated it higher or lower if I had context, but based on aesthetics and context clues, it was still an enjoyable and relatable (to me) movie

Thinspiration (2014) ⭐/⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - lifetime movie/after school special level of corny. Definitely a watch it once and walk away not feeling much movie

Thin (2006) ⭐⭐⭐⭐/⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - a pretty interesting documentary, I personally think the director allowed the women featured to be honest about where they are in life without a moral leaning in either direction. I think it was especially really well made for the time it was filmed in

When Friendship Kills (1996) ⭐⭐/⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - this was also a lifetime movie/after school special cheese fest BUT I'm pretty sure a young Ryan Reynolds came out in it in a minor role which earns a star in and of itself but this storyline was handled a bit better than "Thinspiration"

Black Swan (2010) ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐/⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - I saw it when it first came out but I rewatched it recently. It doesn't play big into actual 3D/4n4/M14 as a plotline, BUT it is featured and hello talk about triggers

Girl, Interrupted (1999) ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐/⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - again not an 3D/4n4/M14 plotline BUT it is featured and again Angelina Jolie and Winona Rider are walking th!n$p0s like help me

I still am adding more and more to my watch list. Here's a couple of honorable mentions for shows

Red Band Society (in progress) - I've watched only two episodes and only one character has an 3d but it's a good show

Degrassi, Season 5 episodes 15 and 16 - I rewatch this so often I'm surprised Max hasn't popped up a "are you ok?"

Degrassi Season 2 episode 9 - nice to see male representation but I only watched this episode once. Definitely a believable storyline in my opinion

Flesh and Bone (2015)- similar to "Black Swan" - featured but not revolving around it, hella triggering for 3Ds but also a lot of other intense shit so be careful with this one

That's it for now!

#tw ana diary #ana trigger #tw ana shit #st4rv3 #sk11ny #tw ed descussion #need to lose more weight #lose weight #pro for myself

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typingtess · 9 months ago

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youtube

NCIS: Los Angeles Season 14 Rewatch: “Game of Drones”

The basics: A bombing at a drone facility kills one, injures another and sets off the search for some terrorists in Los Angeles.

Written by: R. Scott Gemmill wrote/cowrote “The Only Easy Day”, “Brimstone”, “Breach”, “LD50”, “Found”, “Borderline”, “Absolution”, “Archangel”, “Tin Soldiers”, “Impostors”, “Cyberthreat”, “Honor”, “The Watchers” and both sides of the NCIS Los: Angeles/Hawaii Five-0 “Touch of Death” episodes, “Recruit”, “Free Ride”, “Wanted”, “Ravens and The Swans”, “Impact”, “War Cries”, both ends of the “Deep Trouble” season five finale/season six premiere, “Inelegant Heart”, “Praesidium”, “Traitor”, “Active Measures” (season seven premiere), “Blame It On Rio”, “Internal Affairs”, “Matryoshka” part one, "Talion" (season seven finale), “High Value Target”/”Belly of the Beast” (season eight premieres), “The Queen’s Gambit”, “Under Siege”, “Unleashed” (season eight finale), “Party Crashers” (season nine’s premiere), “This Is What We Do” (episode 200), “Các Tù Nhân”, “Goodbye Vietnam”, “Ninguna Salida” (the season nine finale), “Hit List”, “Asesinos”, “Till Death Do Us Part”, “Choke Point”, “The Guardian”, “Hail Mary”, “Kill Beale Vol. 1”, “Alsiyadun”, “Fortune Favors the Brave”, “The Bear” (season 12 premiere), “Angry Karen”, “Love Kills”, “Russia, Russia, Russia”, “The Noble Maidens”, “A Tale of Two Igors” (season 12 finale), "Subject 17" (season 13 premiere), "All The Little Things", “MWD” and “Work and Family”.

Directed by: Kevin Berlandi. Berlandi is new to NCIS: Los Angeles. He has directed episodes of Criminal Minds, Bull and Partner Track.

Guest stars of note: Kavi Ramachandran Ladnier returns as NCIS Reserve Agent Shyla Dahr from “Work and Family”. Both Natalia Del Riego as Rosa Reyes and Richard Gant as Raymond Hanna are back from “Come Together”. Jennifer Marshall as Navy Commander Neal, Jamil Zraikat as Cyrus Karimian, Jenapher Zheng as Janice Ng, Anna Rajo as Maria Estevez, Turhan Troy Caylak as Darius “Bunny” Vale and Ramona Dubarry as Monica Tavares

Our heroes: Are back at it for season 14.

What important things did we learn about:

Callen: Asks to bring Hetty’s remains home from Syria if she was the one who perished. Sam: Bringing his father to an activity center so he can swim, play pool and poker. Kensi: Sniper. Deeks: Would have been killed without Sniper Wife. Fatima: Doling out assignments. Rountree: Starts an interview with an engineer and ends up defending what he does. Kilbride: Commandeering helicopters.

What not so important things did we learn about:

Callen: Self-titled world’s coolest uncle. Sam: Not thrilled his father broke away from the activity center. Kensi: First day school drop off. Deeks: Not built for first day school drop off or public restrooms. Fatima: Old show went into syndication so Fatima has cool new wheels. Rountree: Calculus is better than is algebra. Kilbride: Betting his non-existent grandchildren.

Where in the world is Henrietta Lange? Not in a schoolhouse/safe house in Syria although some of her alias IDs were.

Who's down with OTP: Kensi and Deeks get to be anxious parents dropping Rosa off for her first day at school. They have a long and serious conversation bracketed between some Deeks jokes about how brutal their jobs can be, how awful the world is and that letting Rosa into the world to be her best self is an act of faith that the world will be kind.

Who's down with BrOTP: Not a lot of BrOTP situations. Callen works with Fatima, Rountree is mostly solo and Sam is only around at the end.

Fashion review: Callen is wearing a red, white and blue plaid button-down. Long sleeve black tee-shirt for Sam. Kensi wears a blood-red tee-shirt. Deeks starts the episode in a pale purple tee-shirt before wearing an LAFD fire inspector/marshal’s uniform undercover. White turtleneck for Fatima with a buttery looking black leather jacket (spectacular!). Rountree is wearing a blue, white and grey jacket over a pale blue tee. Dark blue three-piece suit, white dress shirt and blue and white tie for the Admiral.

Music: Not today.

Any notable cut scene: See music.

Quote: Kensi: “You know, all this is making me feel like I want to call Rosa and check in on her.” Deeks: “Okay, pull up on that stick there, helicopter mom, because she's fine. You just need to give her some space and time to find herself and-and to grow. Put the phone down.” Kensi: “Yeah, I know, but how many parents dropped their kids off at school only to never see them again because of another school shooting” Deeks: “Okay, you can't, you can't think like that.” Kensi: “How can you not think like that?” Deeks: “I mean, all right, you can consider the possibility, you can do the drills, but at some point, you just have to give in and believe in a greater good. I just feel like that's getting harder and harder to do. Yeah, well, that's why they call it faith.”

Anything else: A security guard is making his way through an engineering firm. The firm builds drones. The guard’s route is very deliberate, logging in and out of areas as he makes his way through building. As he gets near the exit, he sees a janitor’s cart just off the entrance.

Exiting the building, the guard locks up and logs out. There is a massive explosion. The guard is thrown ten feet from the door and fiery debris lands all around him.

Cue the new credits – a little red in the logo.

A really overprotective Kensi and Deeks are dropping Rosa off at school. Deeks is worried about bullying which makes Rosa nervous about bullying. Kensi and Deeks will pick her up after school but will text if there is a delay. There is a back-up plan with “Naomi’s mom”. After reviewing the alarm code for the house and the panic code, Rosa is finally on her way. Kensi and Deeks rethink their plan with home schooling a possibility. Deeks announces “I’m not built for this.”

As Sam is ready to take his father to an adult activity center, Raymond is walking around in his pajamas and slippers. Raymond is has no interest in “adult day-care”. Sam sells the place which has a gym, pool and library. Raymond is fine with Sam leaving him at a gym, a pool or a library. Sam notes this place has all three. The two bicker before Sam asks Raymond to just try the place. Since they have billiards and poker, Raymond is a little more interested but disappointed that the poker games aren’t for money. “The only fun is when you’re winning real money.” Mrs. Williams, Raymond’s caretaker, will be picking him up at the end of the day. Raymond complains about her driving. He’s also not keen on the idea of making new friends at the activity center since as soon as you get to know someone, they die. The only new things there are hips and pacemakers. Sam is patient with his father as he makes old age jokes.

Arriving through the side door, Fatima sees Callen looking at party venues. She offers some help – she’s good at planning things. Callen was looking for wedding venues. Fatima asks what does Anna want. Anna is torn between a trip to City Hall and Arkady’s dream of recreating “Doctor Zhivago”, complete with horses and snow. Fatima asks if Callen has a theme – traditional, fantasy, cosplay. Callen asks about “fantasy” and Fatima goes on including Sam as a troll, Deeks as a pixie, Kilbride as a wizard. Shaking his head, Callen tells Fatima he’s going to run these roles by them to see what they think. Fatima says no. “It doesn’t hurt to ask,” Callen replies. Fatima knows he’s kidding and asks that he not. Shyla interrupts, Kilbride needs to see Callen.

Walking to Kilbride’s office, Callen asks Shyla what’s up. She isn’t sure but there has been a communique from Syria. In his office, Kilbride tells Shyla to hold his calls and patch the Commander through to the plasma in his office. Commander Neal pops up on the screen. With the help of the Syrian Democratic Forces, Neal and her team were doing some recon work. At an abandoned school, known to be a safehouse, there was an ambush. Human remains were found, burned beyond recognition. One body had documents identifying them as Trudy Chambers, an American female. Callen looks stunned. Asking if the remains of Chambers were that of a small woman, Neal confirms they were. Dental records and DNA is still be checked. She will contact them when they have an ID. Trudy Chambers is one of Hetty’s aliases.

In Ops, Fatima arrives and asks Shyla what’s the new case. There is television coverage of the explosion and fire at Havlock/Haines Aerospace the prior night. Havlock/Haines builds remote piloted vehicles for the Navy. A janitor was killed, the security guard was badly injured. ATF said the bomb was nitroamine high explosive. The dead janitor was Luis Estevez, the guard Morgan Reynolds. Neither fits the profile of a bomber – more wrong place, wrong time. Fatima will go to the crime scene with Callen, Kensi and Deeks will look into the janitor while Rountree looks into the security guard. Shyla seems a little surprised that Fatima is doling out assignments – that is usually the job of a more senior agent. Since Shyla does not see a more senior agent in Ops, “go get ‘em girl,” is her advice.

Asking if the remains will be flown back to the US, Kilbride tells Callen they will be if they are positively identified. Callen wants to accompany them. Kilbride agrees. Callen then brings up Harris Keane, who was travelling with Hetty. Once the forensic team completes their work, the Admiral thinks they’ll know more. Knowing if she was ambushed at a safe house – even if it wasn’t Hetty – Callen believes she’s in danger. Kilbride disagrees – Hetty was in danger the minute she went back to Syria. And there are no safe houses in Syria right now. But since this is Hetty, she has more lives than a barn cat and is just as mean. Callen nods his head in agreement.

In the boatshed’s main room, Kensi and Deeks are speaking to Maria Estevez, daughter of janitor Luis Estevez. After offering condolences, they asks Maria about her father. He liked working as the night janitor – the money was good and it left him time during the day for other projects. As a skilled carpenter and mason, Estevez worked construction jobs when they came up. Kensi asks when did he sleep. Maria has an immediate answer – Sundays. During family dinners in the fall, he’d doze off watching football. Deeks asks why did Estevez work two jobs. Maria explains that years ago, her immigrant father worked two jobs to make ends meet. In recent years, especially after the death of his wife/Maria’s mother from COVID two years ago, it was to keep busy. Estevez did not work with explosives but loved fireworks. The Estevez family loved to put on a display. Asking if there were any financial issues, drugs, enemies, Maria states her father was a gentle and caring man who did anything to help others. Since Maria was told Estevez died in a factory accident, she wants to know what’s going on. Kensi and Deeks would like to see Estevez’s home.

A sullen Callen is a bit surprised by Fatima’s new Porsche. She explains her old TV show was just sold into syndication. When Callen notes the vehicle isn’t subtle, Fatima replies that in LA, subtle stands out. Callen is still distracted so Fatima asks if he is OK. He updates her about the body found in Syria. Fatima offers condolences and asks if they can do anything. They can’t so they should work the case.

Calling in to Ops from outside the hospital, Rountree has no luck with the security guard. He’s lawyered up but even if he didn’t, his doctor said he was in no condition to be questioned. Shyla notes he was healthy enough to find a lawyer. The Admiral wants the hospital staff and the lawyer to be put on notice, “as soon as he can eat his Jell-O, he better start talking.” Shyla is going to get a warrant to search Reynolds’s residence while the Admiral wants to question the staff at Havlock/Haines about Reynolds.

At the crime scene, Callen and Fatima are in the bombed out facility. The sleek, modern place is now a mass of burnt walls, cables and wires hanging from the ceiling, rubble all over. Speaking to executive Monica Tavares, she explains that the explosion is a financial hit to the company. Not only do they have to rebuild but they are not going to meet certain orders from contracts. Callen asks if she knows who would do something like this. Tavares has a list – anarchists, right-wing extremists, anti-war activists. Fatima asks about industry rivals or disgruntled employees. There are some – a few staffers left after they started working for the government – conscientious objections to making “weapons of war”. When Fatima asks for contact info, Taveras agrees to cooperate but makes it clear, none of them would blow up the building.

Callen asks if there were any other issues in recent weeks and months. Nothing as obvious as blowing up the facility but Havlock/Haines has been subject to a “relentless” series of cyber-attacks. The company is working on where they are coming from but no luck finding who is behind them. Callen gets a call from Shyla who has the terribly burned corpse of Luis Estevez on the big screen (ick, show, ick). Estevez was already dead for several hours when the explosion occurred.

Later speaking to Fatima, if Estevez was dead before the explosion, they likely used him to get into the building. Fatima agrees – the bombers killed Estevez, used his ID to get into the building, probably put his body and the bomb into something like a cleaning cart. That would be Fatima’s plan. Callen finds it scary but thinks it would be a good way to dispose of the body. Fatima agrees – it would make it look like Estevez died in the explosion.

Walking around the immaculate home of Luis Estevez, Kensi is on the phone with Callen. Thinking unless he was Jekyll and Hyde, Kensi believes Estevez was Mr. Rogers only more neat. Callen wants Kensi to check if Maria has power of attorney so they can access his phone and financials. Fatima asks about home security but Estevez barely locked is doors. Fatima wants to check the neighbors’ security systems to see if anyone was following Estevez. Kensi will ask. They also want Kensi to ask about Estevez’s daily routine. Meanwhile, Estevez’s Jeep is going to NCIS’s carport – they will check to see if he had GPS.

Moving to the kitchen, Maria is packing up the food in her father’s home. She talks about her father’s truck. Deeks assures her the truck will be released to the family when NCIS is done with it. Maria seems less worried about that, more thinking about how much her father loved the truck. It was his first ever new vehicle. Kensi asks about power-of-attorney. Maria got it after her mother passed away, her father got all his paperwork in order. Kensi tells Maria that they can take info from her father’s phone and financial records and maybe find who killed him. Maria is weeping. Deeks looks so uncomfortable. Kensi, seeing Maria’s distress, asks if she would be able to come up with her father’s daily routine, “Can you do that?” Maria says she can try.

Outside of the house, Kensi and Deeks are wrecked about the pain of the day. Deeks makes a joke about the pain being as bad as kidney stones, annoying Kensi. He extends to the joke to childbirth, leading Kensi to calling him an idiot. When Deeks says he’s joking, Kensi wants to know why. “Because if I don’t joke, this job is too sad for me to keep doing it.” Kensi understands but thinks he’s an idiot – a loveable one. All the sadness has Kensi wanting to call Rosa and see if she’s OK. Deeks stops her – this is Rosa’s time to “find herself and to grow.” Kensi brings up school shootings, something Deeks does not want to think about. It is what Kensi thinks about. Deeks tells her they can do the drills and prepare Rosa the best they can but at some point “you just have to give in and believe in a greater good.” Kensi finds that hard to do but Deeks tells her that’s what faith is. “I mean George Michael even wrote a song about it.” Deeks makes some George jokes.

Arriving at Ops, the Admiral wants a sit-rep. Shyla fills him in on the team’s status. She is also working with NCIS CYBER to find who is behind the cyber-attacks against Havlock/Haines. The Admiral figures that whoever did this was willing to kill an innocent man and used high end explosives – they are not militia “idiots”. Shyla suggests industrial espionage – a rival company that wants some of the hundreds of millions of dollars available in military contracts. The Admiral is rooting for that because the alternative is state sponsored terrorism.

As Kilbride walks back to his office, Callen calls up from the bullpen, looking for news about the remains and Trudy Chambers. Kilbride assures Callen he would have updated him if there was any news from Syria. The Admiral’s more pressing concern is whoever blew up Havlock/Haines since they like aren’t done. He wants Callen focused on the task at hand and not Hetty. “Now go catch these bastards before they strike again.”

In the carport, Fatima is working on Estevez’s truck. She tells Callen that the vehicle was wiped clean – she can still smell the bleach. Callen gets a call from Alex asking if she wants to hang out with Jake. Fatima wishes she had a niece or nephew – it seems like fun. Callen agrees it is while they are young. When they get a little older, less time for the world’s coolest uncle and more time for teenage girls. Fatima asks if Callen gave himself the designation of world’s coolest uncle. Callen wants to know who is cooler than he is? After Fatima laughs, she announces he’s cool, “like supercool.” “Let’s not oversell it.”

In the boatshed, Rountree and Shyla on the plasma are chatting. He is meeting with Janice Ng who left Havlock/Haines when they started working for the DoD. Shyla gets an alert from CYBER – the source of the attack is coming from Beirut, Lebanon.

With Fatima and Callen back in Ops with Shyla, they are discussing Lebanon being an US ally but Hezbollah, a militant group with a political arm, is not. Callen brings up two Hezbollah operatives who were arrested in the US for planning acts of terrorism. Those arrests were for fundraising and weapon buys but things may have gotten more aggressive since the US’s relationship with Iran gets worse. Iran funds a lot of Hezbollah’s actions. Asking about Estevez’s truck, Callen tells Shyla that the truck was wiped clean as was his GPS. Callen wants a list from the Office of the Director of National Intelligence of any known Hezbollah members in the US, especially anyone on the West Coast.

In the boat shed, Janice Ng explains she joined Havlock/Haines to be part of the team that put the first person on Mars. She did not sign up to build weapons of mass destruction. Rountree tells her the drones aren’t weapons of mass destruction. Ng disagrees – they could be armed with a nuclear weapon. Rountree points out they aren’t but Ng thinks he’s being naïve. But she thinks it is Rountree’s job to cover up the military’s crimes against humanity. Explaining that it isn’t his job to cover up anything, Rountree is there to find the truth about who set the bomb at Havlock/Haines. Ng is annoyed – since she quit for not wanting to be “a warmonger”, she’s being treated as a suspect. She’s waiting for Rountree to beat a confession out of her.

Deeks arrives at the boat shed with Kensi right behind him. Rountree explains that he isn’t there to beat a confession out of Ng. Pointing to his wife, Deeks tells Ng that what Kensi is there to do as he walks into the restroom. Kensi tells Ng Deeks is just kidding. Rountree updates Kensi on his questioning and Ng lawyers up. Rountree tells her she doesn’t need a lawyer. After she warns them against railroading her, Rountree just cuts Ng loose.

Sighing that it is just “one of those days”, Rountree tells Kensi he’s gotten nothing from the former Havlock/Haines staffers. Kensi explains that they got some security footage and were going to Ops when “somebody needed a potty break.” Deeks returns from the restroom where they’re out of towels so he airdries his hands all over Kensi and Rountree. He explains that he would rather use their restroom than some public restroom. Rountree is more concerned that some of Deeks’s air-drying got into his mouth.

Contacting Ops, Kensi pulls out the thumb drive with the security camera footage and sends it to Shyla. Shyla has camera footage from other places as she tries to stitch together Estevez’s day. Kensi and Deeks are on their way to Ops to help Shyla. Deeks signals to Rountree that he probably shouldn’t use the restroom.

In the bullpen, Callen is reviewing some street camera footage with Fatima. With the coroner estimating Estevez’s time of death around 4PM, Callen sees white van for Bunny Vale Laundry and Dry Cleaning outside of his house at 11AM. The branded van is still there two-hours later. While it could be a long lunch or a day off, it is just as likely a stakeout. In Ops, Shyla has info on Bunny Vale Laundry, a chain in LA. Tracing the specific van, for the last few days, it was always near Estevez, either at his home or following him around.

Bunny Vale Laundry is owned by Darius “Bunny” Vale and his wife Sara. They are first-generation Persian-Americans, born in America. No links to Hezbollah but Fatima wonders if Vale is using his business as a front. There is a laundering money suggestion from Shyla – she really does fit right in. Callen and Fatima are going to speak to Vale.

In interrogation, Darius “Bunny” Vale is on the wrong side of the table. Callen shows him a photo of the laundry truck outside of Estevez’s home. Vale claims to have over a dozen vans like it. Callen tells Vale the van was used in a crime. Vale was worried something like that would happen – the van was stolen. Callen mentions there was no police report but Vale says the truck was gone for a while and then returned. He never knew it was missing until one of his employees found it. Since there was no damage to the van, he didn’t report it, figuring it was some teenage joyriders. The van was found near one of Vale’s locations by an employee who was with Vale for years. “Anything else?”

Pulling out his phone, Callen shows Vale Estevez’s dead body. Vale expresses his disgust in Farsi. Callen explains that Estevez was a father and a grandfather who was likely murdered in Vale’s van. When the forensic team goes through the “stolen” van, if they find any evidence Vale will be connected to Estevez’s murder and the attack on Havlock/Haines. Fatima asks how long as Vale supported Hezbollah. Vale is stunned – he’s never supported Hezbollah. Callen threatens a trip to Guantanamo Bay but Vale claims he had nothing to do with what happened.

When Callen says “last chance” to Vale, he explains he can’t help, “they’ll hurt my family.” Fatima offers protection but Vale is speaking about his family in Tehran. While NCIS has agents all over the world, they are not in Iran. Fatima tells him the threat is to his family in the US as well as Iran. If he helps them, they can stop threat.

Vale explains that two men demanded a van, was told if he didn’t cooperate his family in Iran would pay the price. He was told to not ask any questions and to not tell anyone. Vale gave them the van and then the van was returned. Vale doesn’t have much information – he didn’t know the men, he didn’t know where they were staying. In Farsi, Fatima tells Vale he needs to help them. He is in danger if he doesn’t cooperate. Vale mentions a friend named Ava who was threatened as well. She had to provide a place where the men could work. Callen wants Sam called in – this is a full team operation.

Joining Callen, Fatima and Rountree at an office park, Sam and the team are all wearing their kevlar with the big guns out. He thinks this assignment is easier than getting his father to behave. When Fatima asks how Raymond is doing, Sam replies he’s doing everything possible to make him crazy. The Admiral has had enough chit-chat – and Deeks isn’t even involved. Fatima and Rountree take one entrance, Sam and Callen take another. Shyla tells the team the building is owned by Ava Safari with only a 26% occupancy rate due to COVID. The terrorists are set-up on a vacant office floor. The Admiral considers them armed and they are dangerous since they have access to high end explosives. He warns them of booby traps. That doesn’t sit well with Deeks, who is dress as a fire marshal/inspector. “I’m not the bomb disposal guy.”

Deeks walks through one of the offices. It is empty though there is a cot and a lantern flashlight in an open area. He is approached by a man asking why Deeks is there. After saying he’s happy the place is rented again, Deeks claims to be LAFD there for the building’s monthly inspection. The man wants Deeks to leave and return the following day. Deeks explains he can’t do that. Deeks is walking ahead of the man, through the office. He is rambling about the inspecting the Nakatomi Plaza – nice “Die Hard” shoutout – and puts on soundproof headphones because he’s about to set off the building’s alarms. The man behind Deeks pulls out his gun. Kensi says “weapon” and takes out the man from an office building a healthy distance away. “Tango down.” Deeks seems surprised.

Callen and Sam join Deeks – “Nice shot honey,” Deeks calls to Kensi. He starts talking about having a BB right under his scalp from being shot by Darrel Dinkins. Sam mentioned the BB migrating to Deeks’s brain. An arriving Fatima and Rountree enjoy the show. Deeks tells Sam he missed him. “I bet you did.”

While Fatima sends the dead man’s prints to Ops, Callen has the dead man’s burner phone and wants to Shyla to check the contacts and any GPS info. Sam finds a Canadian passport for the dead man issued to Cyrus Karimain from Fort Erie, Ontario. It is likely a fake. Sam has four other passports for four other men. There may be an entire cell in Los Angeles.

Deeks find a trash pail full of shredded documents. One looks like a map but he could only figure it out if he was the Amazing Kreskin. Fatima doesn’t know who the Amazing Kreskin is. “That was before Google,” Sam tells her. Callen finds something and shows it to Sam. It is a symbol of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps’s staff college. The men in the office aren’t Hezbollah, they are Iranian special operatives who usually train proxies to fight, not do the fighting themselves. The Admiral knew this was state sponsored and is willing to bet his grandchildren that the drones that took out Soleimani was manufactured by Havlock/Haines. Shyla notes the Admiral doesn’t have grandchildren. “This team America, is payback.”

Tracing the location of the cellphone numbers in the dead man’s phone, they are all traveling on the PCH, just passing Malibu. While Deeks thinks they are surfers, Sam realizes they’re going to Point Magu. Point Magu is the home of the Triton drone project. The Admiral wants the team in helicopters on their way to the base in two minutes. When Shyla asks how, the Admiral doesn’t care – Coast Guard, National Guard, borrow a TV traffic helicopter.

At Point Magu’s entrance, a Bunny Vale Landry Van shoots its way past a guard station. The sole guard tries to fire on the men but is overwhelmed by four men with military weapons. Driving the van into the base, there are two barrel in the back with explosives. The men all exit the van before it plows into a trailer with a satellite on top. Since this is NCIS: Los Angeles, there is a massive explosion.

One of the men tries to enter a structure next to the structure that just was blown up. He has a keycard to get in but the door does not open. Callen comes out from the side of the structure and tells the man “nobody’s home.” The men are surrounded by Callen and Sam on the right, Kensi, Fatima and Rountree on their left and Deeks from the top of the structure. Behind the on the ground team is more armed Navy sailors. It was set-up as a kill box. Fatima starts ordering the men to surrender in Farsi. The men surrender. Deeks wonders how he is getting off the building – he asks Rountree to catch him.

Stepping away, Sam has a call from Mrs. Williams, his father’s caretaker. Raymond left the activity center without the caretaker. He instead left with a woman named Victoria. Callen is impressed – one day at the activity center and Raymond has a girlfriend. Callen thinks Sam could learn a little something from his father.

In the armory, Kensi, Deeks, Fatima and Rountree are dropping off their gear. Fatima thinks they should go out for drinks and Rountree should pay. This surprises Rountree until Fatima says she’s buying. Deeks offers to take everyone out to dinner if Rosa could join them. Kensi steps in – not on a school night. Deeks asks how is Rountree’s calculus. It is better than his algebra but it is not very good.

Pouring two glasses of scotch, the Admiral offers an arriving Callen a glass. Callen asks if he is going to need it. The Admiral thinks the longer Callen stays in their business, he will but he won’t need it today for Hetty “Not now anyway,” he tells Callen. The remains were of a female child, not Hetty. Callen asks why were Hetty’s IDs found on a dead child. The Admiral thinks Hetty planted them. Without the forensics the US military has, anyone who saw the remains and the ID thinks Hetty is dead. Thinking Hetty is in trouble – and the Admiral saying she was in the trouble the minute she went to Syria, Callen asks for permission to look for her. That’s a no from the Admiral. If they had actionable intel, they would go. Until then, Hetty is on her own.

Saying he has a lot of personal time, Callen is thinking of going anyway. The Admiral makes it clear LA just had foreign terrorists attack a building and a Naval Station so there will be no going halfway around the world “searching for your surrogate mommy.” Telling the Admiral to enjoy his scotch, Callen storms out. The Admiral drinks his own scotch and then Callen’s untouched glass, saying he intends to.

Not enjoying his scotch is Sam, sitting with a glass at his dining room table. Raymond sneaks in almost like a teenager caught by his parents. Sam asks where his father was. Raymond said he took Sam’s advice and made some friends. Sam thinks Raymond should have called. Raymond is sure he sent a text but he didn’t. This is every parent-child discussion about being out late with friends, just with the roles reversed. When Raymond says he’s not a child, Sam tells him he's acting like one. Yep, parent-child in reverse. Sam is angry that Raymond “hooked up with a woman on your first damn day. An angry Raymond talks about Victoria, who is married to Cliff, a bedridden veteran. After his time at the activity center, Raymond went to see Cliff, providing him such much needed company. Sam is instantly remorseful until Raymond makes it clear that he also provided Victoria some much needed company. Sam isn’t sure his father is joking as Raymond says good night.

They changed the fonts on the credits too.

What head canon can be formed from here: Sort of an update to the season 13 finale – Callen is looking at wedding venues, Sam is dealing with his father, Kensi and Deeks are taking Rosa to her first day of school. Family continues to play a big part.

Shyla is great with the team. She has a different relationship with Kilbride – more casual and fun than any of the team members.

Visiting the bombed out drone place had to be pretty brutal to Callen, who less than an hour earlier learned his “surrogate mommy” may have met her end in a similar action.

The Kensi and Deeks conversation about doing their jobs in the world we live in has been going on now since season eight. This was another variation of it with Kensi sounding a little more done this time.

The program used real events – the arrest of two Hezbollah terrorists, the bombing of Soleimani- to make the story go.

Episode number: Season 14 (a healthy run for any program), episode one. Episode 303 overall. These recaps will go up every Friday (save one in mid-March) until season 14 wraps.

#NCIS: Los Angeles Rewatch #NCIS: Los Angeles #NCIS Los Angeles #NCIS: LA #ncis la

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