#also WE NOW HE'S IN SPACE- MYSTERY THERE SOLVED

[eru-iru]

i need more aus where makoto lives and he has a palace coz smth fvcked up happened when he gets brought back. ryoji also gets back too coz he's connected to makoto teehee

[soulofapatrick]

Falling Into You - Stiles Stilinski x Female Reader 

Summary: you and stiles finally give into your unknown crush on each other

Words: 2.6K

Warning: Heated makeout session; if you squint there's dry humping

Y/N’s POV

Living with Stiles has been far from boring. Ever since my dad was killed and my younger brother - Isaac - went to live with Derek, Sheriff Noah Stilinski graciously opened his home to me. That meant living with Stiles too, and let me tell you, it has been anything but dull. Stiles has this knack for turning even the most mundane day into a storytelling session filled with the antics he and Scott get up to. 

I’ve grown to love it here. The Stilinski house is like a second home, and the sheriff is like a second dad to me. He’s been incredibly supportive, especially during the tough times. And then there’s Stiles. He’s… well, he’s Stiles. Quirky, witty and always wearing that mischievous grin. 

Lately, though, something’s shifted. I’ve caught myself stealing glances at Stiles when he’s not looking. His passion for solving mysteries, his loyalty to his friends—there’s something undeniably endearing about him. Maybe it’s the way he cares for everyone around him, or the way he throws himself into every insane situation without hesitation. But it's more than that. There's a warmth in his laughter, a genuineness in his concern, that makes my heart flutter a bit faster. And as much as I try to ignore it, I can't deny that a crush has been slowly blossoming. 

Living under the same roof, it’s hard to keep these feelings under wraps. I find myself wanting to spend more time around him, hoping for moments where it’s just the two of us, away from the chaotic everyday that is Beacon Hills. Yet, I’m also terrified. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if it ruins our friendship or makes things awkward while living with him? 

Stiles is currently sat cross legged on my bed, looking so engrossed in whatever supernatural mystery he's delving into. His dedication is admirable, even if it means sacrificing proper posture for the sake of research. I can't help but steal glances at him every now and then, admiring the furrow in his brow as he concentrates. 

I wish I could tell him how I feel. But the fear of ruining what we currently have, the fear of changing the dynamic between us, it’s suffocating. So instead, I go back to focusing on my assignment, the words blurring on the page as my thought drift back to him. 

The room is quiet except for the clicking of keys and the occasional muttered comment from Stiles. As I sit at my desk, trying to concentrate on the assignment in front of me, my mind wandering again—this time an entirely different scenario and it’s one that feels both exhilarating and terrifying. 

I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to set aside the fear and uncertainty, to sit next to Stiles and lean in, closing the distance between us. What would it be like to press my lips against Stiles’? Would they be as soft as they look, as warm as his laugh? My heart races at the mere thought, a flurry of emotions dancing within me. 

I picture the moment vividly: closing the space between us, feeling the warmth of his breath mingling with mine, and the anticipation before our lips meet. I imagine his hands, tentative yet steady, finding their place on my skin, maybe on the curve of my cheek or the small of my back. How would it feel to have his touch ignite a thousand sparks, to feel the electricity between us? 

There’s a mix of longing and hesitation, the desire to experience that connection, yet the fear of disrupting the comfortable equilibrium we've found in our friendship. But in my mind's eye, it's a beautiful chaos—a leap into the unknown, a chance to explore something deeper, something that might exist beyond our late-night conversations and shared moments.

Before I can continue imagining me and Stiles the said boy breaks my thoughts, “Hey Y/N! Come here,” He speaks, excitement in his voice but his eyes never once leaving the screen. 

I force myself out of the reverie, blinking away the vivid daydreams as Stiles called out to me. His excitement is palpable, contagious even, and I push aside the rush of emotions to focus on the present. 

I rise from my chair, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and nervousness as I make my way to where Stiles is seated. He’s still hunched over the laptop, his attention entirely captured by the screen. With a careful step, I settle on the bed behind him, leaning over him enough to rest my chin on his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of what’s got him so intrigued. 

His warmth seeps through the fabric of his shirt, radiating against my chest, a sensation I try desperately to ignore. The scent that envelopes me—a blend of old books, faint traces of motor oil and a lingering hint of coffee—should be distracting, but it’s oddly comforting. It’s quintessentially Stiles, a unique combination that feels inexplicably familiar and reassuring. 

I glance at the screen, feigning interest in whatever supernatural phenomenon has grabbed his attention. But truthfully, my focus wavers between trying to understand what he’s showing me and the proximity between us. His presence feels magnetic, drawing me in, yet I fight the urge to let my thoughts drift into forbidden territory. 

“Look at this,” He exclaims, pointing to a section on the screen. His enthusiasm is infectious, and for a moment, I forget the inner turmoil, getting lost in his excitement. 

Stiles is engrossed in explaining something on the screen, his energy palpable. I try my best to keep up, nodding along as he talks, but the proximity between us amplifies every emotion within me. 

Suddenly, he turns his head, excitement lighting up his russet eyes as he tries to make a point. His words trail off mid-sentence, and in that suspended moment, our faces are unexpected close. I feel his breath, warm against my skin, a sensation that sends a shiver down my spine. 

As if in slow motion, I notice every tiny detail—the freckles scattered across his pale skin, the way his eyes dart down to my lips for the briefest moment before meeting my gaze again. My breath catches in my throat, and I’m sure he can heart the erratic beat of my heart. There's a shift in the air, an unspoken tension that crackles between us. His cheeks flush with colour, a shade of red that matches the intensity of my own emotions. I can't tear my gaze away from him, from the way his eyes flicker between mine and the way his lips part, as if searching for words that elude him. 

For a moment, time seems suspended, our silent exchange speaking volumes. I feel a surge of courage and vulnerability intertwine within me, a silent plea for something more, a leap into the unknown. 

But just as quickly as the moment arrives, it slips away. Stiles blinks, breaking the trance, and clears his throat, shifting slightly away. "Um, sorry, got carried away there," he stammers, his voice a tad higher than usual.

The air feels charged with an awkward tension, heavy with the weight of unspoken words. I try to ease the discomfort by standing up, intending to head back to my desk and salvage what’s left of our usual camaraderie. But before I can even take a step, Stiles’ hand shoots out, wrapped around my wrist in a swift motion that catches me off guard. 

Caught off guard by the sudden proximity, I stumble and practically find myself in Stiles's lap. His warmth envelopes me, and for a moment, our heartbeats synchronise in a chaotic rhythm that seems to echo the unspoken emotions between us. 

Stiles’ eyes lock onto mine, a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability swirling within their depths. His tongue darts out to wet his pretty pink lips, a nervous gesture that betrays the intensity of the moment. Before I can fully comprehend what’s happening, his hand finds the back of my neck, drawing me closer. 

In that heartbeat before our lips meet, the world around us seems to still. His touch sends a surge of electricity through me, igniting a fire that I didn’t know was simmering within. And then, finally, our lips touch in a kiss that feels both anticipated and inevitable. 

As our embrace intensifies, the laptop becomes a mere afterthought, pushed aside to make way for the burgeoning heat between us. Stiles's movements are deliberate, his hands finding my hips with a confident touch, guiding me to straddle his lap as our bodies mold together. 

The kiss deepens, the connection between us sparking a newfound intensity. Stiles’ hands, warm against my skin, slip under the fabric of my teeshirt, sending shivers cascading down my spine. His touch is electric, fingers tracing patterns along my hips, a gentle yet possessive hold that ignites a fire within me. I tangle my fingers in his messy hair, feeling the soft strands between my fingertips as I tilt his head back slightly, deepening the kiss. There’s a dominance in his action, a confidence that surprises me but also excites me in ways I hadn’t anticipated. 

His lips move with purpose, fervent and seeking, a silent demand for more as our breaths mingle in the shared space between us. Each movement, each touch, feels like an unspoken confession of desires long kept hidden. 

My heart races as I lean into him, relishing the sensation of his lips against mine, the way his body responds to my touch. And as I lose myself in the passion of the moment, it becomes clear that Stiles, despite his usual playful demeanour, possesses a commanding presence that takes my breath away. 

As the intensity of the moment heightens, Stiles’ touch remains both from and reassuring, his hands guiding me with a tenderness that contrasts his newfound dominance. With a gentle yet firm pressure, his long, nimble fingers press against my back, coaxing me to lower myself onto him. There’s an undeniable pull in his touch, drawing me closer until I’m lying atop him, our chests pressing together in a shared rhythm. Our breaths mingle in the small space between y=us, the heat of the moment making the air around us feel charged. 

His chest rises and falls with each breath, syncing with mine, creating an unspoken harmony. The sensation of our bodies pressed together sends jolt through me, an electric current that ignites every nerve ending. 

As I rest against him, feeling the steady thud of his heartbeat against mine, a rush of emotions floods over me—desire mingled with a newfound intimacy, vulnerability meshed with a sense of comfort in this uncharted territory. 

Stiles's gaze holds a mixture of passion and tenderness, a silent understanding passing between us in the shared silence. His fingers trace gentle patterns along my back, a gesture that speaks volumes, conveying a reassurance amidst the fervour of the moment. His lips part as if to speak but instead, in a very Stiles fashion, a torrent of words spill out in a hurried stream. 

“I-I've wanted to do this for so long, and I'm sorry, I should've asked, I mean, I wanted to ask, but then this moment happened, and I just... I didn't want to ruin it, but I should’ve—" He babbles, the words tumbling out faster than I can comprehend. His apology mixes with an admission that he’s wanted this as much as I have, and amidst his rambling, I can’t help but laugh softly, finding the sudden flood of words endearing. 

Before his apologies and explanations can continue, I decide to silence him the best way I know how. With a gentle yet decisive motion, I cup his face in both hands, capturing his lips in a kiss that speaks volumes, stealing away his words and replacing them with the silent language of our shared desires. 

The kiss is deliberate interruption, a way to convey everything I’ve been feeling in a single moment. It’s a tender yet firm assertion, an assurance that words are unnecessary amidst the eloquence of our connection. 

As our lips meet, I feel a shift in the air, the nervous energy dissipating into something more serene. Stiles’ initial surprise melts into a reciprocated warmth, and soon, the kiss becomes a dance of shared affection and unspoken apologies. In that suspended moment, the kiss becomes a story of its own—a narrative of unspoken emotions conveyed through the gentle meeting of our lips. Stiles's initial surprise gives way to a newfound ease, his lips molding against mine with a familiarity that feels surprisingly natural yet exhilaratingly new.

His touch, tender yet assured, ignites a cascade of sensations. His hands explore, tracing the contours of my back, sending tingles racing along my skin. There’s a delicate balance in his touch, a mix of reverence and longing that speaks volumes about the dept of his emotions. 

As our kiss deepens, I’m enveloped in a whirlwind of emotions. Stiles’ lips against mine feel like a discovery—a blend of softness and fervour, an unspoken language that surpasses any verbal communication. Each movement of our lips is a revelation, a testament to the unspoken connection between us. His closeness has a gravitational pull, drawing me in and enveloping me in a sense of security and desire. In this moment, I feel cherished, desired, and seen in a way that goes beyond mere words. 

The intensity of our kiss, a universe of emotions contained within, is abruptly interrupted by the jarring ring of Stiles’ phone. Startled, we break apart, a shared groan escaping both of us as the moment fractures, replacing by the intrusion of reality. Stiles fumbles for his phone, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. With a sigh, he answers and puts it on speaker, revealing Scott’s urgent voice on the other end, asking if Stiles had found any leads. 

As Stiles responds to Scott’s inquiries, I take the opportunity to sit back up, adjusting my position so that I’m straddling his waist. The shift seems to catch Stiles of guard, his breath hitching slightly, and I can feel the bulge pressing against my ass. I watch as Stiles bites his lip, a subtle attempt to suppress any involuntary sounds, his focus divided between the phone call and me, shifting on his lap. His eyes meet mine for a fleeting moment, and I can see a hint of frustration at the interruption, mixed with a smouldering intensity that sends a thrill through me. 

Leaning closer, I offer an apologetic smile, silently acknowledging the disruption but unable to resist teasing him but grinding my hips against his, pretending to get more comfortable on his lap. I notice the way his breath catches again and his hands dart for my hips unsure if they want to stop my hips or help me roll them against that growing bulge. 

“Sh-shit,” A moan escapes him and Scott falls silent as Stiles’ cheeks bloom a pretty shade of red, “Fuck, I gotta go, talk later.” And with that Stiles is hanging up, practically throwing his phone on the floor and in one quick moment has us flipped over so I’m laying underneath him. 

“Hi.” I breathe quietly, an ache between my legs. 

“Don’t you ‘hi’ me you little tease.” He grumbles, leaning on his elbows either side of my head. 

“What you gonna do about it?” I challenge, loving the gleam in his eyes. 

Stiles chuckles softly, his eyes dancing with mischief as he leans closer, his breath brushing against my lips. 

"Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what you've started."

Teen Wolf Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

[tikosblogg]

Watching You…18+

Summary: Your life takes an unexpected turn when you meet your new landlord, Noah. He's unlike anyone you’ve ever met..

Warning: Stalking, smut,(DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THIS TRIGGERS YOU), piv smut, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), Male masturbation, female masturbation, light choking, DomNoah, SubReader. Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: I was so excited to write this, sorry if it’s a lil sloppy, it unedited I just really wanted to get it posted. I’ll be going through and fixing things soon. Plz enjoy!❤️

I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves as I approached the modest little house for rent. The pale blue paint looked quaint in the cool morning light, a charming contrast to the whirlwind of emotions brewing within me. I had just broken up with my long-term boyfriend Ryan—something I once thought would end in happily ever after. It hadn’t. So here I was, a freshly single woman standing at the threshold of my new life.

At 8 a.m. sharp, I parked in the driveway and stepped out of my car, my heart racing with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. My first thought upon seeing Noah the landlord was that he was not what I had expected. I had envisioned some elderly, mild-mannered man in his fifties. But no, standing before me was a man maybe in his late twenties. He towered over me at no doubt 6’0+”, with dark brown hair that framed his face nicely. I noticed his tattoos, which peeked out from under his black t-shirt. His brown eyes held a mysterious glint that sent a shiver up my spine.

As we exchanged greetings, his grip was firm and confident, leaving me strangely anxious. “You must be Y/N,” he spoke, his tone low and dark. “Ready to check it out?”

I nodded, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling swirling within me. Noah led me through the front door, and I couldn’t help but notice how he moved with a certain dangerous grace. Each step echoed a sense of dominance, making my unease flare like a flame left unattended.

The interior of the house was warm and inviting, adorned with rustic charm. As he showed me around—pointing out the quaint kitchen, the airy living room, and the cozy nooks—I found myself distracted. His voice was silky smooth, his words enveloping me, and I didn’t quite understand why I was simultaneously drawn to him and frightened.

“As you can see,” he said, gesturing towards a window adorned with delicate lace curtains, “the morning light that comes through is nice. perfect place to just chill and relax.” He flashed me a grin, his eyes trailing down my body. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks.

“Um, yeah I like this. It’s nice,” I replied, trying to sound nonchalant despite the fluttering in my stomach.

He tilted his head, observing me with an intensity that made me swallow hard. “It’ll be great, then. There’s also Lots of space for whatever you decide to do with it.” His eyes traced my features, lingering just a moment too long, as if I were a puzzle he was trying to solve, casting an intriguing shadow across the enthusiasm I tried to muster for my new beginning.

By the end of the tour, I had already made up my mind. This house, with its charming imperfections and aside from the strange enigma of Noah, felt right. “I love it,” I said, my voice steady now. “I absolutely want to rent it.”

“Happy to hear,” he replied, his face lighting up with a genuine smile. He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a set of keys, handing them over with a flourish. “Welcome home, Y/N.”

In that moment, Despite the weight of my recent heartache, this house sparked a glimmer of excitement. Without hesitation, I decided to move in that very day. The few possessions I had left—all dumped in storage—were easily gathered and loaded into my truck.

After a few trips, I had unloaded my boxes into the living room, arranging them haphazardly as I took in my new environment. It felt both empowering and overwhelming, a mix of liberation and nostalgia tugging at me.

It’s been a few days since I moved into the house, it was nice but there was a weird feeling that I felt in my gut since stepping into this house. I can’t put my finger on it. Lights that I remember turning off are back on when I arrive home. Things are moved around here and there. I eventually chalk it up to me just being stressed, and not remembering.

I jumped into the shower before heading to bed steam engulfed me as I stepped in, a comforting veil that momentarily erased the uneasiness of the day. I watched the water swirl down the drain, just as my thoughts spiraled around the same few questions that clung to me since I moved into this place. Why did everything feel off? I couldn't shake this sense of being watched, even in the safety of my own home.

The house appeared quaint from the outside. Yet there was just something about this place. My belongings had found their place, but I had yet to find mine.

As I lathered shampoo into my hair, I remembered the light in the kitchen. I distinctly recalled turning it off before I left for work, but when I came back, it blazed with its usual brightness. At first, I brushed it off, but then it happened again. And again.

A chill ran down my spine as I rinsed the suds from my hair. Maybe I was just adjusting to the change maybe I can convince myself that I wasn't losing my mind. But there is a nagging thread of doubt that wormed its way into my consciousness. I could have sworn I heard soft footsteps echoing in the hallway when I was in the living room earlier, a lingering sensation that I wasn’t alone, despite the silence.

The water turned a chilling temperature, and I stepped out, wrapping a towel around myself. I glanced at the fogged mirror, My reflection stared back, still adjusting to the woman in the unfamiliar space. I tried to shake the feeling away, reminding myself that fear often manifests from the unknown. But I couldn’t ignore the shudder that rippled through me at the thought of what might be lurking in the nooks and crannies of this place.

After getting dressed, I settled down with a book in the living room, hoping the it would draw me away from the creeping dread. The pages turned, but my mind was elsewhere. I finally closed my book, the words blurring as I fought against the tightening grip of anxiety. I needed to confront this feeling, to understand what was happening. I decided to take a late-night stroll, hoping to make sense of the oddities.

No perspective

Noah sat at his desk, the late evening light struggling to penetrate the heavy curtains of his dimly lit bedroom. His fingers drummed absently on the wooden surface, creating a rhythm that mimicked the pulsing hum of the computer screen before him. The glow illuminated a stark contrast to the intricate tattoos that spiraled across his forearms, each inked line a memory etched into his skin—moments of joy, pain, liberation, and regret.

His brown eyes narrowed as he focused on the live feed that streamed from the hidden cameras he had discreetly placed around the house—a house that he allowed you to rent, to call your own. He had been hesitant about sharing his space, but the thrill of having someone new around was too enticing to resist. The first time he caught a glimpse of you, something inside him stirred—a mixture of attraction and obsession. Your soft voice echoed through the halls, bouncing off the walls so beautifully. He found himself drawn to you, even in your absence.

Tonight, however, was different. He had been roused from a hazy daydream as he realized the steady sound of rushing water had filled the silence of the house. He switched views to the bathroom feed—his heart quickening as he peered intently at the blurry figure behind the frosted glass of the shower. The rush of the water created a soothing backdrop that only deepened his focus. You were there, completely unaware of his presence.

He leaned closer to the screen, entranced by how the steam curled around your silhouette like a soft embrace. There was something intoxicating about witnessing you in such a private moment—your usual work scrubs replaced by the melodic resonance of water cascading down your skin. Part of him wrestled with the morality of his uninvited voyeurism, and yet another part was simply captivated by your essence, the way you seemed completely at ease, freeing yourself from the demands of the world beyond those four walls.

“Will she hate me if she finds out?” he mused quietly, his breath barely breaking the stillness of the room. The thoughts tumbled around in his mind, as his pants got tighter. 

As his thoughts spiraled, his gaze was fixed on the current play of her movements—rivulets of water sliding down your shoulders, glistening like diamonds. You lifted your arms to wash your hair, and his heart raced as you turned slightly, the contour of your profile framed by the curtain of steam. In that instance, he felt a surge of need that was both exhilarating and suffocating. He was an intruder in your sanctuary, savoring the glimpses of vulnerability that you unwittingly revealed to him.

He leaned back in his chair, carefully pulling his hardened cock out of his sweats, stroking softly. His eyes stayed glued to your body, as he stroked himself. Your name softly falling from his lips over and over again. He watched as you rinsed your hair, wishing it was his hands running through the long strands. 

Time slipped away unnoticed until he spilled all over his hand, with one last groan of your name, and a subtle shudder. The shower finally turned off, The abrupt silence that filled the room was unnerving, yet he never looked away as you toweled off, your soaked body. Guilt washed over him, but he brushed it aside, fixated on the routine that unfolded—a ritualistic choreography of drying off, dressing, and preparing for whatever the night would hold outside your temporary sanctuary.

Y/N’S POV

As I wander down the sidewalk, the deep hum of crickets fills the air, their rhythmic serenade providing a sort of comfort. I trace a habitual path through the neighborhood, passing houses with their dimmed windows, curtains drawn tight—everyone tucked away into the warmth of their homes. But then, as I make the turn onto Maple Lane, I see him.

Noah's house is always a little different; the illumination from his porch creates shadows that dance along the walls, a juxtaposition to the stillness of the rest of the street. He sits outside, casually leaning back against his porch railing. His silhouette cuts against the porch light. He's smoking a cigarette, the thin stream of smoke spiraling upward into the night.

He catches sight of me approaching, a smirk blooming on his lips. My heart does an awkward flip in my chest. He’s undeniably attractive, a fact I can’t deny, even if I wish I could. His skin, adorned with all those tattoos, and the way his hair falls framing his handsome face. As I close the distance, I can feel the warmth of his gaze enveloping me, making the night air feel thicker.

"What are you doing out so late?" he asks, that infuriatingly charming grin still plastered on his face. His voice is smooth, it sends a jolt of inexplicable nervousness curling through me.

“I couldn’t really sleep,” I reply, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. My cheeks heat up under his scrutiny; I can feel the color creeping up from my neck. It’s ridiculous how he makes me feel this way.

He nods in understanding, but there’s a hint of something mischief-laden in his eyes. “Insomnia? Or something on your mind?” he quips, exhaling a thin cloud of smoke.

I could tell him about the multitude of thoughts crowding my mind—the job I hate, my relationship that fizzled out, or even the creepy shit going on in my house. But the words catch in my throat, and instead, I feel my lips curve into a soft smile. “A bit of both, I guess.”

He leans forward slightly, the cigarette hanging between his fingers as he seems to evaluate me—my posture, my face, the way my hair flutters in the night breeze. It’s a gaze that feels invasive yet tender, like he’s peeling back layers I didn’t even know I wore. I fidget under the intensity of it all, the air buzzing with something electric, unfamiliar.

“You know,” he begins, his tone shifting casually, “it’s usually easier to talk things out than to keep them in your head.”

His words wrap around me, opening a door I wasn’t sure I wanted to explore. Usually, I detest conversations that delve deeper than surface-level chit-chat. I’ve been working on building walls, keeping people at bay so they don’t get too close. It’s safer that way.

A shiver travels down my spine, and I bite my lip, a whirlwind of emotions colliding inside. I glance down the street, realizing I’ve lingered a little too long; the cool breeze brushes against my skin, and I take a shaky breath.

“Maybe next time. I should probably get going,” I smile, hoping I didn’t come off rude.

His eyes linger on me, and I can read the question unspoken in the silence that stretches between us. "You sure? I was just about to pour myself a drink. You can join me."

The invitation hangs in the air, tempting me. My mind races, weighing the possibilities against the safe haven of my bed. But there’s still that strange feeling gnawing at me in the pit of my stomach—the kind that flutters when you’re teetering on the edge of something exciting and terrifying all at once.

“I wish I could, but I really should go,” I tell him, almost apologetically.

“Alright,” he replies, though his smile falters for a moment, as if disappointed. “Goodnight, y/n.”

“Goodnight,” I manage, forcing a smile before I turn on my heel and head back home, my heart a mix of exhilaration and longing, what is going on with me right now? I barely know this dude.

With every step I take, I can feel his gaze still on me, lingering like a warm touch long after it’s gone. I can’t escape the feeling that this night is significant, something that perhaps should have kept me awake. As I finally lay down in bed, the thought of Noah—his smirk, his eyes, the whispers of our words—wraps around me like a blanket, creeping into my dreams, making my heart race with possibilities I never expected.

I woke up in a panic, my heart racing as I struggled to catch my breath. My skin was hot and sticky, my shirt clinging to my body as if I had just run a marathon. I could feel the dampness between my legs and realized I had been having a wet dream about Noah. The thought of him made my cheeks flush, and I groaned as I kicked off the covers, feeling suddenly too warm.

I ran my hands through my messy hair and tried to calm my racing heart. Noah was my landlord, a man I barely knew, but I couldn’t get him out of my head. I groaned at the ache in my cunt, that’s not gonna let me sleep until I take care of it.

I slipped my hand beneath the waistband of my panties, my fingers finding my swollen clit. I was already soaking wet, and a moan escaped my lips as I began to run my fingers up my slit. I slid my them back down, dipping them inside me, Noah's name falling from my lips.

I pumped my fingers in and out, matching the rhythm from my dream, imagining it was Noah's thick cock filling me up. I needed to cum again, to feel the release that only a real orgasm could bring. My other hand rubbed my clit in tight circles, my breathing becoming ragged as I built towards another peak.

“Fuck Noah," I whispered, my eyes closed as I lost myself in the feeling. “Ohhh fuuckk.” I whined, pumping harder.

My fingers worked faster, and I bit my lip to stifle my moans as I spiraled towards my climax. I imagined Noah's tattooed body above me, his hard thrusts fucking me deep, and with a cry, I tumbled over the edge, my body shaking as waves of pleasure rippled through me.

NO PERSPECTIVE

Your soft, seductive voice called out to him, pulling Noah from his sleep. Groggy at first, he opened his eyes, his brown orbs fixing on the source of the sound—his computer screen. A sly smile formed as he recognized the sight before him. It was you. The woman he'd been longing to have, your fingers buried deep inside yourself, moaning his name. Noah's heart raced as he stood up, his bare feet padding quietly across the room. He approached his desk, his gaze fixed on the screen, and took a seat.

Noah leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, as he watched you through the hidden camera in her room. You had no idea he was witnessing your most intimate moment. Your fingers moved in rhythm with your soft, wanton moans, your eyes closed as you lost yourself in pleasure. Noah's cock twitched in his boxers as he took in the sight of you, your head thrown back, your soft hair forming a halo around your head. He could almost smell your arousal through the screen.

He loved the power he held in this moment. Knowing he could expose you, humiliate you with this very recording, made his heart pound with excitement. But he also knew that you were an innocent, naive soul, and the thought of corrupting you, making you his, was irresistible. Noah's smile turned devious as he imagined the plans he could put in motion to finally have you underneath him.

As your moans grew louder, your fingers working faster, Noah couldn't help but notice the wet, shiny evidence of your arousal. He imagined himself licking your fingers clean, tasting your sweet cum. His cock stirred, straining against the confines of his boxers, begging to be set free. He reached down, adjusting himself, as he continued to watch, his eyes glued to the screen.

Your breath quickened, your chest heaving as you built towards your climax. "Noah," you whimpered, his name dropping from your lips like a prayer. Hearing his name spoken so intimately sent a jolt through him, and he bit his lip, fighting the urge to touch himself. He wanted to save that pleasure for later, when it would be your hands on him, your mouth wrapping around his length.

With one final, desperate cry of his name, you found your release, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. His breath hitched as he watched, his own body tense with unspent desire. He longed to be the one to make you feel like that, to feel you tighten around him as you came. The thought of finally fucking you made his heart pound with anticipation…soon.

Y/N POV (next night)

It was ten at night when there was a knock at my door. The sound pulling me away from the haze of the late movie I had surrendered to. It was one of those nights where you find comfort in the dim light and predictable plots, but now an unexpected interruption threatened to unravel my cozy solitude.

I hesitated, the warm glow of the living room making me feel safe and enclosed. I wasn’t expecting anyone. As I approached slowly, an edge of anticipation tingled in my veins. I paused to glance through the peephole and my heart raced when I saw him on the other side—Noah.

His soft hair that fell effortlessly around his face and a smattering of tattoos that ran down his throat. I felt heat rush to my cheeks, a familiar tingle sparking to life. Unlocking the door, I felt as if I had unwittingly breached the barrier between dreams and reality. He grinned, that little boyish smile that could slice through my defenses. “Hey,” he said, his voice low.

“What’s up?” I asked, trying to sound more composed than I felt. I didn’t move aside; instead, I leaned against the doorframe, concocting the semblance of control. “I’m here for you,” he replied, his voice dropping to a whisper that wrapped around me like a comforting shroud. Confusion danced in my mind. “What do you mean?”

Without answering, he reached forward, cupping my cheek with his hand. His skin was warm, intoxicatingly so, and all at once my resolve weakened. He moved closer, dark eyes burning into mine. That familiar throbbing in my core ignited, feelings haunting me since my dream about him last night. That dream where I could feel his hands on me, his breath against my skin; it had felt so vivid.

“I’ve been watching you sweet girl,” he murmured, and my breath hitched. Then, he stalked forward. The way he moved bore an animalistic grace, confident, predatory. I felt the wall pressing against my back, a solid reminder of my confinement as he closed in on me.

I should have been terrified. He had just insinuated that he had been watching me, lingering just outside the threshold of my sanity. But instead, my pulse quickened, and I fought against the uninvited thrill that coursed through me. I never thought I’d find danger alluring, but here I was, breathless and drenched in curiosity.

Another chuckle escaped him, dark and almost playful. “I saw you,” he continued, leaning closer until I could feel the heat radiating from his body. My mind raced. I could smell the remnants of his cologne, something earthy and wild.

“I don’t—” I started, my throat dry as I tried to form coherent thoughts. His lips hovered just above mine, brushing ever so lightly, igniting a fire I thought I had tucked away. “I heard You whining my name.”

Despite myself, I bit down on my lip, wrestling with the conflicting emotions swirling within me. The pulse of fear intertwined with insatiable desire, and I was unable to decipher which was stronger.

“I—I don’t understand.” My voice faltered. “It’s okay baby,” he said softly, his breath warm against my mouth. “I’m here to help you.” Images from my dream flashed in my mind—no, not just images; sensations. The way his hands would glide over my skin, igniting every nerve ending. The way he’d whisper dirty words as he took me apart piece by intricate piece.

“This is insane,” I murmured, shaking my head. But Noah only smiled, stepping even closer until the space between us disappeared. My heart thundered as he reached out, fingers brushing against my collarbone, sending sparks down my spine. “Noah…” I breathed, caught between fear and longing. God, how could I resist?

“That’s it..Just say my name baby,” he urged, tilting my chin upward so his gaze was fixed on mine with an intensity that burned away my rationality. I swallowed hard, the room spinning. “Noah…” I whispered, and in return, his lips crashed against mine, and I lost all sense of structure.

The kiss was feverish, consuming. His tongue slid against mine as he pressed me deeper into the wall; I melted into him, surrendering to the tempest that was all things Noah. It was wild and electric, igniting every secret yearning I had repressed. He pulled back just enough to catch his breath, a series of heated stares exchanged between us.

He pushed me harder against the wall, his hot breath on my neck sending shivers down my spine. His hands were rough as he grabbed my ass, lifting me up and making me wrap my legs around his waist. I could feel his hard cock pressed against me, and I let out a soft moan as he carried me upstairs to my bedroom.

He tossed me onto the bed with surprising gentleness, and I looked up at him, my heart racing. His hair fell into his eyes as he leaned over me, his hands roaming over my body.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, his voice deep. "I love hearing my name come from those pretty lips."

I blushed, feeling shy and exposed under his intense gaze. He leaned down and captured my lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue invading my mouth possessively. I moaned into the kiss, my hands tangling in his hair as I pulled him closer.

Then, suddenly, he pulled away, leaving me breathless and wanting more. With a dark glint in his eye, he reached down and grabbed the hem of my shirt slowly pulling it up over my head. I lifted my arms to help him, and he threw the shirt across the room, leaving me naked except for my panties.

He took a moment to admire the view, his eyes roaming over my body hungrily. "Perfect," he breathed, reaching out to pinch my nipples gently between his thumb and forefinger. I gasped at the sensation, my breasts feeling heavy and sensitive.

He leaned down and took one nipple into his mouth, sucking and nibbling gently while his hand massaged the other. I arched my back, moaning softly as pleasure shot through me. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he was driving me crazy.

Then he stopped, leaving me cold as he pulled away. I whimpered at the loss, but then felt his hands on my thighs, pushing them apart. He hooked his fingers into the sides of my panties and slowly pulled them down, kissing and nipping at my inner thighs as they became exposed.

"Such a gorgeous pussy," he murmured, running a finger along my slit. I was already wet and aching for him, and I spread my legs wider, inviting him in.

He smiled at my eagerness, and then lowered his head, licking and sucking at my clit. I cried out, my hands tangling in his hair as he ate me out with expertise. His tongue flicked and circled my most sensitive bundle of nerves, driving me wild. He added two fingers, thrusting them in as he sucked and licked, and I bucked my hips, softly riding his face.

"You taste so fucking good baby," he groaned, pulling his face away momentarily. "I could eat you all night, but I have other plans for that tight little pussy."

Before I could respond, he flipped me over, grabbing my hips and pulling me up on all fours. I felt exposed and vulnerable in this position, but also incredibly turned on. Noah spread my ass cheeks apart, revealing my dripping wet hole to his gaze.

"So fucking beautiful," he breathed, lining his cock up with my entrance. With one smooth thrust, he slid into me, filling me up completely. I moaned loudly, the feeling of being stretched around his thick cock sending pleasure coursing through me.

Noah gripped my hips tightly as he began to fuck me, his thighs slapping against mine with each deep thrust. I cried out with each stroke, feeling his cock hitting all the right spots. He was driving me insane, and I could feel my orgasm building already.

Then, without warning, he pulled out, leaving me empty and whimpering. "Get on your back," he ordered, his voice hoarse with desire.

I did as I was told, lying on the bed and spreading my legs wide for him. Noah laid between my thighs, his eyes dark. He lined himself back up with my pussy and slowly slid into me, groaning as he buried himself to the hilt.

"Wrap your legs around me," he growled, reaching down to grip my thighs. I did as he asked, locking my ankles together behind his back and pulling him deeper into me.

Noah began to move, his hips snapping as he thrust into me. I met his movements, pushing my hips up to meet his with each stroke. We found a rhythm, our bodies moving together as he fucked me thoroughly.

He leaned down, his lips brushing mine as he whispered, "You love my cock, don't you, baby?"

"Yes," I whined, my voice hoarse with need. "I love it.."

Hearing those words seemed to push him over the edge. His eyes darkened further, and he grabbed my throat with one hand, squeezing gently as he continued to thrust into me. His other hand reached down to rub my clit in circles, his fingers slippery with my arousal.

"That's it, baby, cum for me," he growled, his voice deep and rough. "I want to feel you squeeze my cock."

His dirty words sent me spiraling over the edge, and I cried out as my orgasm ripped through me. My pussy clenched around Noah's cock, and I felt him throbbing inside me as he found his own release, his warm cum filling me up.

We lay there for a moment, catching our breath, our bodies still connected. Then, with a soft smile, Noah leaned down and kissed me gently. "I’m not done with you," he murmured against my lips. This is gonna be fun.

[robogalaxies]

☎️ - The Unneeded But Happily Researched Crumbs Of Everything We Know About The Commissioner

“If anything happens… I’ll deny I ever knew you.”

The Commissioner is, as we all know, a mystery, and I hope it stays that way, but I put it upon myself to wrangle every little tidbit of information we have on him outside of giving cases! I do this solely because of three things:

I have nothing better to do

I find myself strangely endeared to his character (i.e. I do a gay little "favorite character" clap every time I hear him mentioned)

I want to share all my random knowledge with you all because I go digging for it in every S&M media there is

I'll be dividing this up into 4 sections for ease of access: comics lore, games lore (HtR, Telltale, TTIV), cartoon lore, and misc. lore. Some things MAY be assumptions based on other characters' reactions to what he MIGHT be saying or say about him, sure, but I will source all information on where to find it & provide images when they can be easily provided!~ If anything new comes up or I have forgotten something, I'll update. Until then... hope you love both hyperlinks and "at least I laughed at it" style commentary! ☎️

Comics Lore

The introduction of The Commissioner, as with everyone else! Small tidbits of his quite understated character outside of being The Phone are here, obviously, including:

the Commissioner's one and only speech bubble! (Bad Day on The Moon)

the beginnings of the implied "I love you" statements towards Sam & Max with an "XOXO" on a postcard (Bad Day on The Moon)

he shows SOME disdain towards Sam & Max's attitudes towards achieving their goals, being the one specifically to tell them to go on a road trip (On the Road #1, "Prisoners of The Casbah")

Games Lore

Hit the Road

The Commissioner is barely a character in this game (big surprise, right?) and you do not get much information on him minus the bare minimum of "he is Sam & Max's boss," so there's not much to be said here. In fact, I don't know why I mentioned it. Great game, though, go play it! Now! I'll wait until you get back :)

Save The World

Welcome back! There're only minor silly tidbits here, but they're needed for this comprehensive list. Everything is worth mentioning about a character with nothing to his name but "The Commissioner." I mean, you're reading this post, right?

wears bifocals! 👓 ("The Mole, The Mob, and The Meatball")

was once in contact with & worked with Harry Moleman, as he sent him to be the mole for the Toy Mafia. Crossover of the century... I wonder if he knows how far poor Harry has fallen ("The Mole, The Mob, and The Meatball")

Takes Sam & Max out for dinner sometimes, apparently, if they do well enough on their cases! Squirrel Garden sounds disgusting, but I'd be jazzed too if they also had the free breadsticks ("The Mole, The Mob, and The Meatball")

likely just a quick jab, so I don't really know why I'm putting it here other than humor, but Max apparently doesn't trust him! I hope that gets solved; Commissioner is sorta signing his meager paychecks ("Bright Side of The Moon")

Beyond Time and Space

The middle child of the Telltale trilogy, this game has barely anything in terms of tidbits given that he really only assigns the beginning cases in 1 out of 5 episodes, and even then, that doesn't give a single thing away. Despite this, there's gotta be one or two tidbits we should learn, right? Sure!

is aware of Sam's insistence on answering the phone & seemingly asks straight up why he didn't answer (What's Up, Beelzebub?)

Can confirm an "I love you" towards Max... d'aww! (What's Up, Beelzebub?)

The Devil's Playhouse

The Commissioner barely shows up or is referenced in this game, mainly due to the story existing outside of the common framing of "assigning cases," but we learn two small yet revealing tidbits:

British Columbian! 🇨🇦 (The City That Dares Not Sleep)

Has provided books on cultural and racial sensitivity for Sam & Max because they kept "reducing people to obvious stereotypes." (The City That Dares Not Sleep)

This Time, It's Virtual!

The phone exists yet again... but in your VR HEADSET! Some fairly funny Commissioner lore in this one even if you, like almost everyone I've seen in this fandom, dislike or even hate this game:

His family is in hiding, and I'm assuming Witness Protection?! Must come with the territory (phone call after completing first three Freelance Training segments in-game)

Can confirm an "I love you" of some sort said to Sam ... d'aww! (phone call after completing first three Freelance Training segments in-game)

Signs off even official, legal wanted posters with "The Commissioner," asking people to seek the help of Freelance Police & associates himself as PART of the Freelance Police!

signs your certificate at the end of the game, which mentions the Illuminati in conjunction with his name for some reason! What kind of policing are we running here....??

Cartoon Lore

Truly, the 90s cartoon is where most Commissioner lore lies if we take into consideration all of these happen within the same universe, which we likely shouldn't. This being said, the cartoon provides us with the only picture we have of the guy (see post photo above the cut). Alongside this, we also get a LOT more information than any other media:

before we even start the information in the ACTUAL cartoon, Sam & Max say within the show's initial Bible believe he's out to kill them, in some way, saying they're the "troubled, ungrateful sons he never had." That's so sweet ... in a way. As well, there's a very small section dedicated to the Commissioner as a character, though not much is said that we don't already know (Sam & Max Cartoon Series Bible)

has Geek's number, or at least a number to the Sub-Basment of Solitude, as he calls it more than once over the course of the series, which makes me wonder how well he may or may not know Geek! Like a grandniece or something (episodes 1, "The Thing That Wouldn't Stop It" & 3b, "They Came from Down There")

cried over the story of Sam & Max having to get rid of John, their beloved alligator son... must be a shared parental instinct (episode 6a, "That Darn Gator")

apparently sends sticker books in case briefings on a semi-regular basis, as Sam comments that he "loves when the Commissioner does that" as if it has happened before - how whimsical! (episode 6b, "We Drop at Dawn")

confirms the Commissioner as a legitimate police commissioner alongside being Sam & Max's boss (episode 6b, "We Drop at Dawn")

seemingly very fussy if not given his private bathroom and honor bar. Fancy stuff, Commissioner, & he apparently allows Sam and Max up there! Or not, they just sorta bust in. Whatever! Sharing is caring (episode 6b, "We Drop at Dawn")

the Commissioner has a DAUGHTER! and somehow, Sam & Max got invited to her WEDDING! I think she's beautiful and I hope she doesn't resent her special day getting ruined (episode 11a, "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang")

that iconic, signed, chest only photo given with the solemn, loving, promise of "If anything ever happens, I'll deny I ever knew you," followed by Max crying that it's "It's just... so him." - what a loving, tender and slightly bordering on oddly familial relationship he has with Sam and Max... stop, I'll start crying! (episode 13, "The Final Episode")

Misc. Lore

These are lore tidbits that are present in mediums either outside of the media itself, belong in a game that is not technically part of the larger S&M canon, or has to do with out of media context, but should be included anyway because why not!

gifts Sam & Max a new floaty pen from a different United State every Christmas ... but not really anything else! (Poker Night 2)

Sam & Max discuss the Commissioner's power in response to doubt about his existence, claiming "Don’t you know he’s everywhere? He knows we’re talking about him right now!" - which is sort of scary, but I'll let it slide because it implies that the Commissioner's surveillance is of a much higher caliber than we initially thought and that is BANGER (in-character interview for Telltale, found here on Steve Purcell's Sam & Max FB page)

He's affectionate yet surly & I'm sure all those "I love you" statements contribute to that! D'aww... (Skunkape Origin Video)

Voiced by a member of Bay Area Sound, Julian Kwasneski, in the Telltale trilogy! Talked about and even has a LINE recited in this specific developer commentary! We love a mysterious boss who sounds like an adult in Peanuts.

God bless the guy, he had a rash! Does this matter? No. Will it ever matter? Likely not, as it was from the sadly cancelled Sam & Max: Freelance Police trailer. Sighs. At this point, you can tell I'm just adding whatever mentions we get of the guy. Makes me giggle, though.

Conclusion...?

In the end, the Commissioner is a mystery, and always WILL be a mystery. Hell, I sort of never want to know as it will ruin every single thing I have worked so hard to archive, but it is fun to comb through the different canons! Of course, it is likely any of this can be tossed out or considered non-canon in the blink of an eye because Sam & Max always loves to give a middle finger to character details if they don't affect the main plot & likely a lot of these are mere gags. The Commissioner is phone, and always will be only phone. However, it's always in my best interest to try to find ANYTHING to push back the curtain even the tiniest inch, and I hope my efforts were worth it. Now, to sign off, just press that phone! You got it, you got it! ☎️

[famoussharkhairdoknight]

You deserve it~ Pope Heyward

Wearning: +18, smut, english is not my first language.

While Pope was looking at the map that John B had handed him, concentrating on the mysterious lines and symbols, he couldn't notice my gaze fixed on him. I approached silently, lowering my voice.

“Aren't you tired of that map?” I whispered, almost amused, leaning close enough to hear his breathing slow for a moment.

Pope, however, tried to remain impassive, even as his gaze became more uncertain. "We have to solve this," he replied, trying to maintain his seriousness, even though his eyes shone with that little spark that betrayed a certain curiosity towards me. "It's important."

"Yes, but..." I said, reaching out to move a corner of the map and inadvertently touching his. "You don't always have to be so focused. There are other things worth distracting yourself with." I flashed him a mischievous smile, barely holding back a laugh as I saw his gaze waver again.

"But this... it's a treasure hunt!" he muttered, but the words came out as an uncertain murmur. He let his eyes slide over me for a moment.

I tilted my head, moving even closer. "You're right. Treasure hunting is exciting..." I whispered, making the meaning of the sentence deliberately ambiguous. "But don't you think it's also fun to… deviate every now and then?"

Pope tried to answer, but finally sighed, turning to me with a hint of a smile. “You… you do nothing but tempt me, you know that?"

I smiled, satisfied that I had broken his concentration. "Tempt you? Me?" I replied with an innocent expression, but moving even closer. Pope's gazes grew more intense as I leaned against the table, slowly sliding my fingers along the edge of the map.

He cleared his throat, clearly torn between wanting to continue deciphering the map and wanting to listen to what we were creating between us, which grew with every moment of silence. "Well, let's just say… distracting myself like this isn't really helping," he admitted, keeping his gaze down for a moment. But when he looked up again, there was a challenge in his, almost as if he was accepting the game.

"Then you could take a break," I whispered, lightly touching his arm. "Maybe it would help clear your head, wouldn't it?" My touch stopped just above her wrist, where I felt her pulse quicken.

Pope took a deep breath, then leaned closer. “And if I took a break,” he said, softly, with a slight smile I had never seen before, “would you be the one to keep me company?”

I tilted my face towards him, my lips inches from his. "I think you would have no doubt about that," I replied in a barely whispered voice, almost taunting him. “But the real question is… do you really want that break, Pope?”

He looked at the map again, as if trying to remember why it was so important, but when our eyes met again, the decision was clear. He took a step forward, lowering his voice, "I think I could take it…for you."

My heart beat faster as he approached, and now the map was forgotten on the table. We were silent for a moment, our looks saying more than words could. I ran a hand down his arm, feeling the tension flow through him, and his breathing became slower and deeper.

"You don't seem too focused, Pope," I teased, smiling slightly.

He smiled slightly, tilting his head. "Maybe… someone managed to make me lose my mind," he replied, and the sincerity in his voice almost caught me off guard.

I didn't want to miss even a second of that intensity, so I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him a little closer. “What if I made you lose it completely?” I whispered to him, playing with a button on his shirt. I felt him hesitate, but only for a second, before his hands rested on my hips, gently pulling me towards him.

"Looks like you have no intention of stopping," he murmured, his voice just a breath between us as the space between us grew ever smaller. There was something magnetic about that moment, an attraction impossible to ignore.

I smiled, letting myself be enveloped by his warmth. "I don't think so," I said, and finally our faces moved closer together, until there was no room left for words or doubts.

Pope joined his lips to mine and we began to kiss while he gently caressed my side. I started to move my hand down to his shorts and pull them down along with his boxers and I did the same thing to my shorts and panties as I got on top of him and Pope blocked my hips with his hands.

"What are you doing?" He asked knowing how much he wanted this moment but he had to figure out the map. I gave him a sweet smile as I caressed his hands on my hips and gave him another kiss on his lips which he happily returned.

“Don't worry baby, you'll like it, keep reading the map” I told him. Pope nodded unconvincingly knowing how much of a distraction I was but eventually did this. Meanwhile I lined up my pussy slit on his cock and suddenly went down.

Pope groaned, closing his eyes and moaning as I sighed and rested my head on his shoulder as I warmed up his cock.

the heat your wet pussy provided sent shivers through him “God, it feels good,” he groans, squeezing your hips as his concentration on the map was now gone.

Pope was going crazy feeling how your pussy was squeezing him and especially how you weren't moving but were just warming up his cock, he wanted more...he needed more.

“Mmh, love please ride me” Pope said as you pinched your hips, you smiled as you sighed and decided to tease him.

“I don't know baby, you need to focus on the map” you said as you moved just a little causing a groan from both of you. “Please y/n” Pope begged as he pushed his cock into you and you both moaned as Pope searched for more friction.

You moaned at how desperate he was for you and you started moving slowly rolling your hips on his cock and he sighed in pleasure as you whimpered and started kissing him.

Your kiss was a clash of tongues as you continued to ride him, you could feel he was close and so was he. Pope began to increase his thrusts and you moaned as you bounced on his cock.

The clash of skin and your moans could be heard in the room.

Pope stands up picking you up carrying you onto the bed while you were still inside him.

Pope ti mise sotto di lui e ti cominciò a scoparti forte mentre tu urlavi e tra poco gli strappavi la maglietta per quanto fosse bello.

“So deep” you said and he took off your shirt as he lowered the cups of your bra as you sucked on your nipples and fucked you senseless as you begged for him.

Just at the very moment jj, John b, Kiara and Sarah entered and immediately turned away while Pope sadly removed his cock from your pussy whimpering at the loss of contact and dressed you and then dressed himself too.

When you both were in prime condition jj chuckled, he was leaning against the door, arms crossed and a smirk of pure satisfaction on his face.

"So, Pope," he began in a mocking tone of voice, trying to hide his laughter. “Weren't so focused on the map, huh?” He gestured with his chin, pointing at me with a conspiratorial look. "I'd say you've found…much more interesting distractions."

Pope blushed, passing a hand behind his head, visibly embarrassed at being caught but whipped because he was almost close to cumming with you.

Pope tried to maintain a veneer of seriousness. "I studied Map a bit," he tried to explain, stuttering a bit, though it was clear he was still recovering from the moment.

JJ laughed, patting Pope on the shoulder affectionately. "Of course, of course. So you're telling me you weren't here completely lost and… taken by her?" He turned to you, smirking mischievously. "I must say, you put on quite a show to make him forget he was even Pope the Rational!"

You shrugged, smiling innocently. "What can I say? Maybe Pope just needed a distraction," you reply, amused by the way Pope kept trying to justify himself.

"Pope, my friend," JJ continued, giving him a light push, "admit it: you're lost. And you know what? You deserve it."

[heartofwritiing]

Kiss me (beneath the milky twilight)

paring: musicanbur x fem!reader

summary: you're the backup singer for lovejoy, the fans don’t know you and wilbur are together, but one duet changes that.

authors note: trying to practice dialogue, so sorry if it is a little wired and doesn’t make sense idk how to write good conversation lmao, also i thought this idea was cute hope you guys like it :)

warnings: short, a make-out on stage, fluff, unedited!

“Okay, someone ate the last poptart this morning on the bus, fess up, who was it?”

Mark, who was twirling his drum stick a few times questioned amongst the group as you and the rest of lovejoy stood in a circle backstage minus Wilbur; who was still asleep in his dressing room. Pre-show naps were a ritual for him now.

Being on tour was an experience to say the least. You never thought you’d be sharing a small space with four grown men, but here you were living on a tour bus for the next four months with them. Most days it wasn’t complete chaos, you all had your respective bunks and areas but a lot of times you thought you’d somehow died and were sent to purgatory until whoever decided to send you to actual hell.

“I don’t know but I have a stash in the bus so I know it’s not me,” you raise your hands up in innocence.

“Why do you get your own secret stash?” Mark frowns.

Wilbur liked to spoil you with snacks to hide around the bus so the other boys wouldn’t find them just to tease them, All in good fun of course.

“Perks of being the lead singer’s girlfriend,” you smirk with your chin held high.

“Im convinced now that you’re the pop tart thief,” Joe added, thumb and pointer finger fiddling with the tuning pegs on his guitar while standing off to the side. “I know all the little hiding spots on the bus and I haven’t seen any secret stash of pop tarts anywhere,”

“That was completely sus of you to say, now i think it was you!” you pointed.

Stupid moments like this made up for all the times you got annoyed with them. Though you loved them all to death they drove you absolutely insane.

“So where’s your secret stash then?”

“Ill never tell, you thief.”

A pair of arms suddenly came to snake around your waist and pull you further back until a head rest on your shoulder. A very sleepy Wilbur yawned and pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder. You smiled sinking back into your lovers arms and reached your hand up to pet his soft curls. Almost instantly he hummed and it mimicked a cats pur.

“What are you guys arguing about now?” he mumbled against your shirt.

“I wouldn’t say we’re arguing, just pointing blame for whoever stole the last pop tart this morning,” you explain.

“It was probably Ash,” Joe quips. Ash looks offended with his arms raise in confusion.

“Oh no, that was me,” Wilbur states nonchalantly.

“WHAT?!” The group erupted into protests.

“I was hungry,” Wilbur shrugs. “we can afford more guys.”

“very true,” you piped.

“well i guess this solves the great pop tart thief mystery,” Mark shrugs.

“Case closed.” you remark.

Soon the argument dissolved, and everyone spoke amongst themselves. You rocked with Wilbur side to side as you hummed no tune in particular as you leaned against him.

“How was your nap honey?” you asked.

“lonely,” he states. “I missed you,”

Your heart jumps at his sentiment. It had only been a few hours since you both woke up tangled in each other’s limbs, maneuvering out of the small bunk trying not to roll out and fall. Still, you missed him when he wasn’t around too.

“I missed you too,” you brought his hand up to your lips and gave it a kiss before placing it back down against your waist.

“you still wanna go through with tonight?”

You knew what he was referring to. Wilbur had come to you with the idea of you both singing a duet on stage at one of the gigs. At first you weren’t so sure, it was his bands time to shine and you didn’t want to take away from that. You’re the back up singer for Wilbur, you felt out of place trying to share the spotlight. After some convincing; more like brain washing you with his puppy dog eyes, you eventually caved and agreed to do it.

Now that it was so close to the performance, the nerves in your body weren’t going away. You had never really been front and center on stage before. Always in the back round hidden in the stage lights. So the thought of being in-front of a crowd of a thousand people staring at you, probably waiting for you to possibly mess up, was fucking you up in the brain just a bit.

Wilbur could practically feel how tense you suddenly got and perked his head up and looked at your face with a slightly worried expression.

“We don’t have to if you’re not ready darling,”

“No, I’ll be fine,” you shook your head. “I wanna do this with you, It’ll be fun.”

Your smile didn’t seem to convince him. He didn’t want to push you into anything but, he could sense how anxious you had seemed the past couple of days. One word from you and he would cancel the whole show if you asked. which of course was very silly of him.

You were determined to get over this fear and just go with it. With one last final hug you both pulled apart and began getting prepared for the show in an hour.

The show was so explosive. The energy of the crowed was strong tonight, it made your adrenaline buzz with excitement. You had almost completely forgotten about your nerves when you stepped onto that stage.

The band had just finished One Day and cheers and screams rang out through the venue. You watched as Wilbur reached down to grab the towel sat beside his mic stand and whip his brow clean from sweat. He threw the towel back down and leaned into the microphone.

Wilbur had told you after One Day was the time slot you had to sing the duet with him.

“Alright, so we have something special planned,” Wilbur spoke. “I wanna welcome to the front of the stage Y/N, my incredible backing vocalist!”

Cheers rang out for you as you stepped center stage into the light clutching your microphone. You smiled and wave at the crowd shakily, you could practically feel your heartbeat out of your chest.

“Were gonna play a song for you, and I need you guys to sing the lyrics if you know them, and be nice to Y/N, shes super nervous,”

A chorus of ‘awes’ rang out from the crowd and you blushed bashfully as you heard a bunch of various shouts of support.

“Thanks Will,” you playfully roll your eyes at him revealing your secret.

The song you had chosen was Kiss Me by Sixpence Non the Richer, one of your favorites. The opening chords rang out as Joe began the melody. Soon, Mark kicked in the drums and you were bobbing your head to the beat.

You glanced over at Wilbur and saw a smile on his lips as he began playing as well. He looked over at you and saw the panic glossing over your eyes in the light. Somehow it made you forget everything once you connected eyes.

Look at me. he mouthed. just keep your eyes on me.

You took a deep breath and began to sing the lyrics, keeping your eyes locked with Wilbur. Somehow it made you forget everything around you and be in the moment with him.

Kiss me out of the bearded barley

Nightly, beside the green, green grass

Wilbur saw how stiff you were, barely moving your limbs. In an attempt to get you to be more comfortable he moved towards you while continuing to play.

Swing, swing, swing the spinning step

You wear those shoes and I will wear that dress, oh

He leaned forward until he was practically kissing your mic. Shocked at the close proximity you kept your composure as you both sang the chorus of the song in harmony.

Kiss me beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out on the moonlit floor

staring deeply into each others eyes nothing else seemed to matter. The pit in your stomach making your knees weak with the look in his eyes as they flickered down to your own lips as he sang.

You rested your left hand on his bicep, the fabric of his silky black button up grounding you before you got too light headed.

Lift your open hand, strike up the band

And make the fireflies dance, silver moon's sparkling

So kiss me

You broke apart and suddenly felt weightless. You danced around the stage as Wilbur watched you with awe and adoration. Your cheeks were hot feeling his eyes on you the entire time. You sang the next line;

Kiss me down by the broken tree house

Swing me upon its hanging tire

Bring, bring, bring your flowered hat

You moved towards Wilbur and he turned to wiggle his hips to the beat. Trying so hard to hold back a laugh, you copied his movements. You couldn’t wait to see all the videos on your timeline the next day.

leaned against his side and began singing together once more;

We'll take the trail marked on your father's map

Kiss me beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out on the moonlit floor

Lift your open hand, strike up the band

And make the fireflies dance, silver moon's sparkling

So kiss me

You dance around the stage again feeling yourself in the moment as the last notes rang out. You didn’t even process the cheers and screams as you felt a pair of hands cup your cheeks and press their lips against yours.

Your eye’s opened in shock to see Wilbur was the one who pulled you into a kiss. On stage. in front of a whole crowd of his fans. Fuck it, you thought, and melted into his touch. His lips moved against yours softly and you could feel your skin set aflame.

Your arms looped around his middle and pulled him closer to you. Hours could have passed and you could’ve kept kissing him, but eventually you pulled away for the lack of oxygen in your lungs. Chocolate eyes peered down at you with such love you had ever felt. Wide smiles broke the two of you into infectious giggles you could barely hear over the whole crowd of people screaming all around you.

Wilbur took your hand and walked back over to his mic. All your friends were cheering you on as well, Causing you to blush harder at all the attention on you but it didn’t matter anymore.

“Well, that was a heat of the moment sort of thing guys, sorry about that,” his giggle echoing through the venue speakers, everyone ‘wooed’ in response. “Had to take my moment, y’know?”

Wilbur gazed at you out of the corner of his eye to see your bashful state. Squeezing your hand he said one last thing to the crowd before he had to move onto the next song on their line up.

“Everyone please give it up for my beautiful, wonderful, talented, girlfriend!”

You were most certainly redder than a cherry at this point. The crowd was loving every second of it. Hiding your face in Wilbur's shoulder from his side, he kisses your forehead before having to send you back over to your place on stage. You very certain your twitter feed will be insane the next day.

It wasn’t long before the next song started up and you were dancing along with Leandra. Wilbur gave you one final glance behind him and you blew him a kiss to which he beamed at you before he turned forward to continue on with the show.

-

taglist: @trashcanduck @merakiwi @addxms @ax-y10 @scenefaez @joviepog

let me know if you wanna be added or removed! :)

[threeeyesstudio]

Spotlight on the Murdoch House

One of the things I wish I could do on this blog is to share with you the artwork that I am making right now. But because I work on a TV show, I can’t do that, I have to keep it secret until the show airs. Now I wholeheartedly agree with this, not just because it lets me keep my job but also because I know how shitty spoilers can be. But what I can tell you about is the work I did on previous seasons. Today I want to revisit the drawing of the Murdoch House.

This project gave me the opportunity to imagine things that don't exist and fill in the gaps using problem-solving and creativity, which i love to do. And in my art, I want to include and celebrate people just as they are, in this illustration, I got to do that in a bit of a sideways way. I was able to celebrate the work of Bob Sher the production designer for Murdoch Mysteries. He had designed a really beautiful interior set for the Murdoch House and with this drawing, I could help show that off. I wasn't drawing his portrait, I was drawing his work and I think his work is an extension of himself.

I really wanted to do this justice because I wanted Bob and anyone else who had worked on this set to feel proud of what they did because it was beautiful! I also really enjoy imagining spaces that don't exist, I got to fully imagine what this fictional house is like, filling in the gaps that were left after filming.

My task was to draw the exterior view, and a plan view (the top-down architectural drawing) and highlight a few of the architectural features.

The exterior view is based on a quick establishing shot of the front door of the Murdoch house. I got to do a little bit of Architectural design as I changed the proportions of the actual house filmed in the show to match the story we were telling. There seems to only be one shot that is reused over an over again for the exterior and the shot only gives a glimpse of the front door. It was filmed on location in the outskirts of Toronto and as far as I know, we will never return to that location again. There was also an old pixelated photo of the same house. So what I had to go on was this one piece of footage, a pixelated photo, the interior set layout and the verbal description of how Bob envisioned the exterior.

Sets are not built like a house, one room doesn't logically lead to the next and could be on the opposite end of the studio. The different rooms are pieced together in how the actors move through them and the editing process. So I needed to alter the plan view of the set to match how the audience perceives the Murdoch house and not how it is actually built. I based what I drew on the actual set, but made changes to the layout, moving rooms around to make sense like a real house.

Going on the deserted set of the Murdoch House and taking reference pictures was really enjoyable. Being on that quiet and darkened set felt so peaceful and I got to see all the lovely details that the designer and build team had put in. It's wild but it feels like a real home and that isn't always the case with sets. Finding the details that would accompany the exterior view and elevations was easy. The hard part was whittling them down to just a few that would fit on the page. Showing off the doors was a specific request and those were designed by both Ryan O'Connell the set designer and Bob the production designer.

This drawing was for one of the early episodes of season 17, it was supposed to be placed above the mantle in the Murdoch living room. But I don't think it ever made it to camera! I remember there being some issues in regard to continuity from episode to episode. (We film out of order) And in a later episode, there was something scripted that had to take its place above the mantle. But I got a great deal of satisfaction from making it. I got to imagine a place that doesn't exist, helped to tell a story and I got to celebrate the hard work of creative people. And I know that it made Bob happy because it now has a lovely home in the hallway just outside the art offices.

[sensitivehandsomeactionman]

Inside ‘Supernatural’s’ Evolution From Monster-of-the-Week to Psychological Horror

by Danielle Turchiano | Oct 1, 2020 | Variety

A little boy sits alone on the floor of his bedroom. Backlit by a window, he leans over pages of construction paper on which he is obsessively drawing. A platoon of little green Army men guards the pages, and ultimately the boy. As the camera pans around him, he does not speak — in fact he has not spoken at all since his father drowned in a local lake the year before.

This is not the first time the audience, or even the main characters of “Supernatural” are introduced to this boy, as the moment comes a little less than half-way through the third episode of the series. But through the scene setup and shot style, it is the first time the audience gets a glimpse of the boy’s psyche, which will prove to be indispensable as the Winchester brothers work to solve the case of the mysterious lake deaths. It is also a turning point for a first-season show that would eventually run for 15 years.

“I watched Kim [Manners, director] set up this one shot and I thought, ‘That’s the way the show should be shot. This is the look we should be going for,'” executive producer Bob Singer tells Variety.

Creator Eric Kripke originally pitched “Supernatural” to studio Warner Bros. and eventually then-network the WB as a monster-movie-of-the-week drama about two brothers (Dean and Sam Winchester) who travel the backroads of America hunting the things the audience would remember from urban legends. But his main goal in his original pitch document was that “the weekly stories have to be SCARY AS S—.” (And yes, the all-caps was his emphasis.)

While he wanted to make “this series as scary as I can,” he wrote at the time, not all fear comes from an external source. Soon enough, it was the characters’ own trauma and internal struggles that were driving story and adding rich complications to an already well-known genre.

“We set out to make a horror show, and those were the initial stories we wrote. But you learn and adjust as you start watching the film, and a few things conspired to tell us, ‘We have to focus a lot more on the characters than we’re currently doing,’ which is we realized the actors we had,” Kripke tells Variety now. “We saw that they were just both wildly charismatic and emotional and were knocking everything we gave them out of the park. So we were like, ‘We should start giving them harder things to do because they can handle it.'”

The pilot introduced Dean (Jensen Ackles) and Sam’s (Jared Padalecki) trauma briefly, first by revealing that their mother died under mysterious circumstances in a house fire, resulting in their father devoting his life to hunting what killed her — even when it meant dragging his school-aged kids on the road and leaving them alone for days on end in rundown motels. When Sam’s girlfriend dies in a similar way in the present-day portion of the episode, a deeper, psychologically-scarring mythology is hinted at — but the focus of the first few episodes of the series is really more on the “task at hand” of taking out whatever creature is right in front of them — from a Woman in White in the pilot, to a wendigo in the second episode and a ghost in the third.

“When you get hired as staff on a first season show, you get handed the documents they used to sell the show, and that included some of the family secrets and what was going on with Sam. But it’s more like it was a headline that these children had been through a lot because of, we’ll call it, their unconventional life — and the details come when you start to have more space to tell the story,” says Sera Gamble, who penned “Dead in the Water,” the pivotal third episode of the first season with Raelle Tucker, and later went on to run the show in the sixth and seventh seasons.

When breaking the story for “Dead in the Water,” Gamble recalls a conversation with Kripke about how “most young children, especially who have been through something, [are] not just going to open up and give you all of the procedural information you need as an [exposition] dump in the scene.” In discussing how it needed to be harder to draw information out of that child, Gamble says she was inspired to “dig deeper into the psychology of the characters in that script,” which became a baseline for episodes going forward.

“Now I can’t imagine approaching anything with a fantasy element without starting from that place,” she says. “These stories were scary to us because they feel like they tap into something true. Your road as a writer to something that’s going to terrify the audience is through human psychology.”

What each audience member finds scary can vary — and often comes from factors outside a show’s control, from the person’s own upbringing and experiences to the kinds of other stories they consume. In order to to make sure to deliver unique horror elements in each episode, Singer says that from the beginning, “one thing we always said was that the shooting style should be commensurate with what the monster was or what the tone was, so we didn’t feel like we were doing a cookie-cutter horror [show].”

The characters within each of those episodes also had to be unique, even if the type of creature the Winchesters were fighting was something they’d encountered before. “Halfway through Season 1, the first run of the scripts, we realized we were going to run out of monsters in a hurry,” if we didn’t, Singer says. “So if we did a vampire story, each version would not be what you’ve seen before — each version had their own story.”

Often these characters had traumatic backstories of their own, such as Gordon (Sterling K. Brown), a hunter who was on a one-track mission to eradicate the supernatural from Earth after his sister was taken by a vampire when he was just a teenager. (In the most heart-wrenching twist, he later was turned into the thing he hated the most.) Sometimes they even brought out complicated issues for the main characters, such as when Sam fell for Madison (Emmanuelle Vaugier), a werewolf who he was going to have to kill, reigniting the fears he had about losing the women he loved.

And as time went on, those issues and fears began to pile up and often go unresolved. Dean never truly mourned his mother and Sam didn’t fully get to grieve his college girlfriend Jess (Adrianne Palicki) and both had complex feelings about their father and the way they were raised. But then Dean traded his life to save Sam’s, sending the older Winchester to Hell (literally), while the younger one had to carry on alone. Being the true vessels for Michael and Lucifer could have pitted the brothers against each other but ultimately this time it was Sam who went into the pit to Hell, leaving Dean to move on. Sam also lost his soul, got addicted to demon blood and never quite could shake his PTSD from his time with Lucifer (Mark Pellegrino); Dean ended up with PTSD after getting back from war-like Purgatory. Both brothers struggled with wanting to believe in Team Free Will, even when learning they are literally God’s (Rob Benedict) favorite television show and their lives have been manipulated for it. And of course along the way they’ve lost countless other friends and loved ones, from surrogate uncle Bobby (Jim Beaver) to Charlie (Felicia Day) and even their mother (Samantha Smith) again after she was brought back from the dead, only to eventually be killed by Lucifer’s son Jack (Alex Calvert).

“Sam and Dean both went through a ton of trauma. Sam probably had more reminders of his trauma because, obviously Pellegrino remained as Lucifer for many, many years, and Sam had to be facing his No. 1 offender in causing his PTSD,” says Padalecki. “The writers, obviously, always were aware that Sam had been through what he’d been through with Lucifer so they peppered that in [but they] allowed me to take it further if I needed to.”

While Kripke acknowledges that the broadcast format — especially back in 2005 — lent itself well to a slow burn on mythology in the beginning, he also believes characters are more interesting if you “peel back those layers one at a time” as the show goes on. But there is also a more pragmatic reason behind easing the audience into the more psychological horror of “Supernatural” according to Dr. Lynn S. Zubernis, a licensed clinical psychologist, professor and author of several “Supernatural” books, including this year’s “There’ll Be Peace When You Are Done: Actors and Fans Celebrate the Legacy of Supernatural.”

She explains: “One of the reasons that we as humans have so much trouble processing trauma is that we literally store those trauma memories in a different way to store our regular memories and then we can’t get to them and they just end up split off and unprocessed and we don’t want to go there. So we have a lot of defenses against looking at our own trauma. That’s why projecting onto fictional characters is such a great way to do it. But if it came at us all at once, our brains would be like, ‘No, no, no no; we’re not going there.’ You have to go slow in the beginning and then be hooked in and trust the storytelling, in a way, before it goes that deep.”

The same was true for the actors. “Early on, we maybe had to use some techniques or some tricks of the trade to get to a certain point emotionally, but as time went on and the seasons went on, we didn’t have to use those tricks,” says Ackles. “Living with this story — not just living with the characters but living with this story — when things happen, we’re able to really feel it from a character’s perspective because we have lived with it so long and we understand their hurt and their pain and their laughter and their joy.”

Adds Padalecki: “We lost so many characters, I feel like we had a lot of chances to deal with what Sam and Dean would go through with the loss of a character or friend, and so, after the 30th time, it was like, ‘OK I remember what Sam goes through; I remember how he feels; I remember how to be and where I want to be in the storyline as a whole.’ If God forbid there came a situation where they were like, ‘Hey we need to shoot this scene tonight, it’s two pages, it’s you and Dean and Lucifer, then I could have done it — and Mark and Jensen could have done it as well.'”

As the show evolved, the type of horror it delivered week after week would consist different ratios of a combination of jump scares and more of a “disturbing fear that doesn’t leave you — the kind of fear that gives me chills, instead of making me want to scream,” as Zubernis puts it.

“I remember getting a note from Eric that changed the way I wrote the show and kind of cracked the show open for me,” Gamble says. “It was [for] an episode where a demon in the body of a woman has, I want to say, Bobby tied up and they are snarky back and forth but he is her prisoner. And what Eric said was, ‘You’re writing these lines where the demon is very witty and funny and smart, but the thing that is so terrifying about a demon, even as you are entertained by it is that they can see straight into your soul.’ So this thing that they will say to you will be the thing that hurts the most. And so, that was the guiding principle for writing the bad guys: They had to be incredibly insightful to find these guys’ Achilles heels.

“It was also the guiding principle in writing Dean, who was very much going to say the funniest lines in episodes, but he’s never trying to crack you up — he’s actually speaking from a deep well of pain and his way of processing that is to say something hilarious like he’s tough and it doesn’t matter,” Gamble continues.

“We knew the guys had deep trauma and deep pain and were frequently struggling quietly with something, and we always held the monster peril or the danger to a high standard of, ‘We’re not going to make this a joke. This is going to really be life or death.’ So if you have those pieces of the puzzle where the life or death stakes are there, the emotional truth is there, and then you have characters who crack a joke in the face of death, then you can go a lot of places tonally.”

This included expanding the world out to get inside the heads of other core characters — from Castiel’s (Misha Collins) own struggle with how he allowed power to corrupt him, to Jack’s guilt over killing Mary, to diving into memories of Bobby losing his wife and Jody Mills (Kim Rhodes) losing her own family. In some cases, it meant quite literally spending the majority of episodes inside characters’ heads, as well — from Season 2’s “What Is and What Should Never Be,” in which Dean’s psyche is in an “apple pie” alternate reality while he is losing his life to a djnn, to Season 4’s “The Rapture” when Sam is detoxing from demon blood, to Season 7’s “Death’s Door,” which sees a dying Bobby trying to outrun his reaper.

In the latter episode, Gamble reminds, the show was “exploring his core wounds by seeing the memories that are the most important to him.”

“We observed from just watching so many shows in this genre that the Big Bad gets bigger and bigger every season and the war gets more massive and pretty soon you’re a tiny little Lego guy and you’re literally facing God,” she explains. “So part of our job from very early on was to slow down or to avoid running into plot that was so massive that you’re just little specs in a giant galaxy. The way to approach that is always to come from what is personal inside of the story to the boys.”

After all, at the core of the show was always the Winchesters — whether the danger they were in was because of a literal demon in front of them or an internal demon they had yet to conquer.

“If you put them in real jeopardy — believable jeopardy for our world — then the scares will take care of themselves,” Singer says.

(Pictured: Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki in “Supernatural,” which returns with its final seven episodes beginning Oct. 8 on the CW)

[miss-madness67]

Mistakes (Jack Kline)

The mistakes that brought you closer to him.

The first mistake you made was to accept working with the Winchester brothers. You should have never broken your habit of working alone. The second mistake you made was turning your back on that witch bitch. She sent your way a curse that was powerful enough to knock you off your feet. The third mistake you made was opening your eyes after you fainted. You should have known better than to believe the spell was purely physical. So when you stared up into the blue eyes of the Nephilim, you know you’re fucked, and you don’t care.

“God, you are beautiful.” You emphasize each word, your gaze remains locked, not caring about the rest of the world. Jack looks positively puzzled by your statement, but it is not him who speaks.

“You must’ve hit your head harder than we thought.” Dean’s voice comes from your right, and it’s only then that you realize you’re no longer in the witch’s hut where the battle went down. Instead, you’re back at the Winchesters’ motel room.

“What?” You wonder out loud, your eyes shifting to Dean for a second, before looking at Jack again. “It’s not my head hurting, but my heart.” Your following words are dramatic, “Jack, I’m sorry I didn’t notice before. You are the most beautiful Nephilim I have ever seen.” If heart eyes were a thing of reality, you’re pretty sure you would have them now.

“Thank you?” Says Jack, and although he put space between you to move further back, your grin doesn’t falter.

Sam murmurs your name softly, “are you sure you’re ok?” He inspects back and forth between you and Jack. Maybe it’s the way you’re staring at the Nephilim, or maybe the fact that a witch did throw a spell at you, realization quickly dawns on his face. “A love spell?” He chuckles, “I was worried about that bright red light she cast on you, but it’s just a love spell.”

For the first time since you woke up, you pay attention to Sam. “Love spell? What are you talking about?”

It’s the eldest brother who answers this time. “Right, the witch put a love curse on you and that’s why you’re looking at Jack as if you wanna take a bite out of him.” The smirk on his face is all too know-it-all as if he had solved the mystery by himself.

“Curse?” your voice is low, threatening, all directed at Dean. “You think my love for Jack is a curse?” You stand from the bed, being mindful of pushing Jack back gently. Fortunately for Dean, your gun is far away from your reach. “I might have met Jack just a handful of times, but my feelings for him have grown stronger by the second.” Your next words are for Jack, “There’s a part of me that has known you my whole life, Jack. Can’t you feel it too?”  Your smile is all too bright as you place a hand on the Nephilim’s chest, right above his heart.

As it turned out, your confession only further convinced the siblings that you had been hit with a love spell. They decided that the only answer was to kill the witch -who got away earlier- for the curse to lift. Of course, with your hazed thoughts, you were no use. So, to prevent you from doing anything reckless to stop them, they all agreed to leave you in the motel with Jack.

Leaving you alone with Jack was both a good and a bad idea. It prevented you from screwing up in the field, but it also gave you what -who- you desired most: Jack. “Don’t worry,” you tell him as you sit across from him on the small table. He has been tense ever since the brothers left. “Even if they kill the witch, my love for you will remain the same.” Jack smiles awkwardly across from you. “You don’t believe me?” You challenge.

“I- you don’t really know me.” He whispers softly, but still, there’s a blush on his cheeks that spurs you on.

“And I told you that doesn’t matter.” You grin at him. “I’ll prove it to you!” You stand up from your chair and walk his way with determination.

Instantly, he jumps from his chair. “Wow, what are you doing?”

You continue walking his way until his back collides with the wall. “I’m proving to you that our feelings are real.” You place your hands on his chest once again, the crazy beating of his heart brings a smile to your face. “If you didn’t feel at least something, I’m sure you would control yourself better.” Despite his lack of encouragement, Jack doesn’t push you away. “I mean, you’re Nephilim, you could overpower me easily.”

Jack seems to be considering his options, and for a moment, you believe that he might actually push you away. Instead, he grabs your hands to hold them in his. “I think you’re very attractive, and I would love to get to know you… but maybe we should wait until the witch is dead, don’t you think?”

Rationally, you should accept what Jack is suggesting. You should step away and give the boy some space. It’s safe to say that you’re not very rational right now. With an angelic grin adorning your face, you pull Jack by the hands and closer to you, your faces only inches away. He is too stunned to do anything when you close the distance between the two of you.

Your lips touch his experimentally, first. The contact is almost delicate, timid, and innocent. Nothing too passionate, unlike the words you uttered before. Perhaps you’re afraid he’ll run away. Once you’re sure that he won’t, your body relaxes. Your hands let go of his and travel all the way to the nape of his neck. The Nephilim’s hands fall by the sides of his body. He doesn’t know what to do with them. It is then that you start to move your mouth on his. Jack’s follows your rhythm insecurely, almost as if it were his first kiss. He sighs and doesn’t step away, your chests pressed together, molding perfectly. You melt into the feeling of him, but you don’t dare to push further. You want to eat him whole and more, just like Dean said. But Jack is too sweet for that, so you control yourself. What you have right now is too good to be true. It is definitely worth pretending you are hexed by a witch. The last mistake you made, was falling in love with Jack Kline for real.

[kfkr1ze]

Escape from S - Chapter 2

Characters — ✈︎ Renga, Ten, Kafka, Liguang, Yukikaze, Yachiyo

Location: HAMA House Living Room

Ten: (It may have taken until dawn, but that job was pretty good for a one time job. Aah, I’m so sleepy…)

Mm…

………

(Who’s here?)

Renga: W-Welcome back, Ten.

Ten: …Renga-san. Your face looks like you’ve been up all night. What are you doing here?

Renga: I was waiting for you…! I did fall asleep on the sofa at some point though.

……

Y’know, yesterday, your ex-girlfriends chased you out the store after you leftーー

Ten: Ah～ My bad for dragging you into my issues yesterday. Do you know what happened after they left?

Renga: No, that's…

Ten: I actually met up with them again after that〜 The 3 of us hit it off pretty well I’d say? We were up having so much fun that I ended up coming home pretty late.

Renga: ……!

Ten: (If I say that, then he can’t pry anymore, right?)

Theen, night〜. I’m gonna go to sleep since I didn’t get to last night, so don’t wake me up before afternoon hits please.

Renga: Ah…

Renga: ………

Location: HAMA House Tiger Room

Ten: (Sighs. He was waiting there for me like a earnest dog.)

(Well, it was easy for me to get around it, since he believes anything he hears…)

Ten: (My phone…? God, who’s calling at this time…?)

……Chief?

Yeah, I was sleeping just now…

Eh? The Morning Squad has to meet ASAP?

Location: HAMA House Meeting Space

Yachiyo: Hwawawawa… This is the start of a legend!

No, we already have one, but HAMA Tours is gonna make another legend!! I c-can’t help but get excitedddd!!!

Liguang: Hey, stop moving. You’re going to break something.

Kaede: If you headbang that much, you’re going to end up hurting your neck!

Yukikaze: Rather, the fact that he’s been going for 5 minutes… Yachiyo’s bones are actually pretty strong huh. That’s amazing.

Ten: Uh, I came because of the call but…　Everyone seems to be a bit excited? What happened?

Kafka: Ah, it seems everyone arrived.  Then, let’s get started with this discussion. 

Kaede: Ten-kun, you might not be surprised to hear this, but…

Morning Squad has been invited to appear on live TV!!!!

Ten: …Huh?

Yachiyo: Everyone was invited to appear on that super popular TV program, “Escape from S”ーーOr “Es・S” for short～!!

Ten: “Es・S” …It’s that thing isn’t it? That live program where you try to escape some searchers within the time limit to get some prize money, right?

Kafka: Correct. The main reason it’s so popular is because it has heated escape scenes and the mystery you get to solve is changed with each visit.

Even the “Normal Clear” is hard to achieve on its own, but there’s also a “True Clear” that you can achieve by completing a variety of missions. You already know about that too, right Ten?

Ten: Refresh my memory?

Kafka: The reward for a True Clear is the ability to produce a commercial for free and air it during the golden hour.

For HAMA’s future development, and for the sake of HAMA Tours as well, we have to do it, right? ♪

Yukikaze: Yes. I’ll do my best for both Chief, as well as Kafka and the others.

Liguang: …Sighs. I think it’s obvious that appearing on TV is a hassle, though.

Ten: (Ah, nice Ligaung-san. Keep talking about that please.)

Liguang: However, if the profit is worth that hassle, I can see why Oguro would want to go through with that plan.

Ten: (Oh my. Turns out I couldn’t rely on that. Even just being a Ward Mayor is a lot of exposure as is, so this would definitely be a pain.)

I mean, why were we even invited in the first place?

It’s not a program that’s known for being open to the public for performers, right? The rewards for the True Clear clearly aren't open for just anyone either.

Don’t tell me that the Pres has been pulling the strings for this plan?

Kafka: That’s wrong. This time, Renga was the one who suggested it.

Ten: Renga-san did?

Renga: ………

Ten: (Right right. I could see his depressing face staring at me from the corner of my eye this whole time. What’s up with that?)

Renga: Um, y’know, Ten!

I… s-saw you… last night…!

Ten: ………

(Hah?)

Previous — ✈︎ Masterlist — ✈︎ Next

[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

random Conner being a good bullshitter moment

Teacher: today class we are doing a genealogy thing, basically we are going to track your family tree. It’s an assessment of your research skills, go ham just make sure your information is correct if it isn’t you will be docked accordingly.

Later

classmate: so Conner? How are you going?

Conner: oh I realise my family history is a bit confusing but when the day comes I’ll explain it, how are you going?

classmate: oh fine, my family already had a family tree book made so I just have to present it.

Conner: cool, I have to make mine from scratch but it’s alright.

a week later after a few battles with random space pirates

teacher: well class I hope you’re ready to present your assignments, who wants to go first?

Conner: *raises his hand*

teacher: oh well, Conner go ahead.

Conner: *clears throat* okay, so my dad clark is actually my half brother *conner starts to singsong* my mother is actually some rich lady named Lex, my dad is actually this guy Elliot, my half brother is also my older brother, I know it makes no sense but keep on listening. My cousin is Kara, my family is Jonathan and Martha Kent, my stepmom is Lois lane and my nephew is Jon Kent. Yup that’s it.

the class applauds after Conner’s PowerPoint presentation

teacher: wait how is clark your half brother?

Conner: just is, my dad Elliot knocked up Lex and he left shortly afterwards. He was one of Jonathan’s distant relatives, he ended up leaving clark with the Kent’s because well easier than leaving him alone, since his mother died when he was a kid. He did die only a short while later it was only supposed to be temporary until he did die. So they ended up adopting clark, he’s still a full blooded Kent but yeah his dad is dead. And I’m his half brother because our dad had a kid with this rich lady Lex. As you can see on the chart. And Kara is our cousin who I don’t know who’s parents are.

teacher: well that’s something, I honestly was expecting something else.

Conner: I’m still in touch with rich lady Lex, since she’s a doctor and did raise me for the first years of my life, and I have family health issues. But I am the Jonathan and Martha’s kid though, Lex is just reluctant about me being with the other side of the family because she didn’t really know them well. Since dad died long after she knew she was pregnant, i was a ivf baby lol because she froze his sperm. I call clark dad because well he’s been my dad. But we are half brothers, it’s more of a “I didn’t know we were half brothers so I’m going to call you dad” thing I was 14 when I came to live with them, I had a falling out with my mother.

the class listens eagerly because this is so much Kent lore, and explains literally everything about why the fuck they look a bit different and where clark came from! the decades long mystery is solved!

Conner: so now I just alternate between the two houses, it’s not a split custody agreement or something it’s just I like living with the Kent’s. And I’m old enough to make my own decisions, so it’s just mostly living at the Kent’s and visiting mother.

teacher: well that’s something. Thank you for sharing this, you receive a B+ because I don’t have access to any of your records or know who the heck you’re talking about so B+. Whoever’s next get ready.

later

Conner sitting at the dinner table eating some roast, and slightly kicking his feet under the table asks

Conner: I did my family history thing today

Jonathan: you didn’t screw up and tell everyone something that could trace us back to superman right? *chuckles*

Conner: nope, did finally explain that clark is my half brother.

Jonathan: *fork drops* what

connner: well obviously no one believed he’s my dad, because that’d make him a teen father or something and honestly it was genuinely getting pretty weird. So I explained that Elliot, Jor el. Was my father, and that he had a kid with a rich woman named Lex because technically it’s true who can actually confirm or deny that, through ivf after Elliot died. He also had a kid with unnamed woman who is Clark’s mother, he left clark with you as he couldn’t leave him alone and he died shortly after. Isn’t that a better back story?

Jonathan super surprised by conner’s web weaving skills just nods

Conner: so now I can talk about Lex, no one thinks I’m a teen father’s child anymore, and you have some one to blame if someone does actually accidentally test Clark’s blood. I am amazing!

Jonathan: well, I guess I’ll inform everyone of the situation you just made, but I commend you for your hard work. You did a good job kid.

Prev | current | next

(yes this is a series please read the first one it's hilarious)

[iced-cofi]

I kinda just wanna write game reviews here sometimes. *Ahem*

It's pretty damn rare that you find a piece of media like this throughout the course of your life.

One that elegantly, carefully, and lovingly traverses infinite despair in an infinitely more hopeful way. One that shows you that no true problem can be solved in a single day. One that teaches of the compassion in our hearts, for those around us and the world we all live in.

And, for me, one that teaches that in the face of despair, fear, and sadness, beauty can also be found, and that no matter how pointless it can seem, fighting, trying, and persistence is how we can push through the end of the world. And now matter how all encompassing it may seem, the end is never truly the end. It's just a new beginning.

I am, of course, referring to...

Before I continue, I must clarify, as I did in my ACT review, this will feature spoilers, and moreso than almost any other game I've played, you simply must play this blind if you can.

Ok, a brief, completely spoiler free review. *Ahem again*

Outer Wilds is a beautiful, relaxing yet occasionally stressful first person space exploration game, in which the only currency you collect through the game is knowledge. The solar system is your own journey through the puzzle box the devs made. The music is beautiful and touching, the visuals are distinct yet simple, and the story is like nothing else. The only genuine 10/10 I can give. It's brilliant.

Ok, I will now put a funny picture, this is your opportunity to leave spoiler free.

3

2

1

Ok now time for the real gamers to chat.

This game. This fucking game. It reaches deep to the innermost part of my mind and soul and shows me a more accurate depiction of the human experience than any other game, and it don't even got humans.

It is the absolute definition of existential optimism, and I think it's refreshing, and borderline spiritual.

And this fact is helped because the way you get to the end is entirely up to you. Every single person who plays this game will play it differently. Everyone follows what they find amazing and interesting, and everyone finds what they think is, and they fly and crash and die and laugh and love every moment they spend in this dark, enrapturing galaxy.

The combination of nostalgic foresty landscapes, crumbling planets, shoddy craftsmanship, and banjo laden melancholy music make for a uniquely sentimental game, which allows you to connect with what theyve done.

I mean fuck some of the coolest ideas for planets and worlds I've ever seen.

Brittle Hollow and it's crumbling deadly surface, and infinitely heavy black hole at the center

Dark Bramble, always enshrouded in fog and mystery, endlessly repeating dangerous, vine coated voids filled with the most terrifying creatures in the known universe

The Hourglass Twins, the most clearly time based astral body of all, as two planets pirouette through the sky, trading impossible amounts of sand due to a shift in gravity

And of course, the Quantum Moon, a blend of all other planets with an ethereal, eternally shifting vibe layered thickly on top.

It's brilliant, and scary, and add layers and layers to your story.

And the characters and all so clearly defined, with interests and dreams and hopes. Reibeck hates space but is obsessed with the Nomai technology and history, so he can't help but explore. Feldspar and his sporadic attitude and wealth of courage allowing him to explore anywhere, as long as it's got beasties. And of course, the one, the only, the best o Outer Wilds character, Gabbro!

This chill as mother fucker got trapped in the same time loope as you, and is simply to chill and content to give a single fucking shit, while still helping where he can with advice and knowledge. It's awesome, and he also teaches you how to speed up your death with meditation, so that's... Cool.

And of fucking course I gotta talk about the music.

It's hypnotic. It permeates your body and makes you happy and sad and lonely and any other thing you can imagine, while still fitting the game, and any individual story moment. It's brilliant.

Like, listen to this shit.

And what about this???

And how about this, which is from the dlc, which i will write about in another review when I'm not exhausted!!

I gotta say, this isn't a review in the way I'd like it to be, cause I'm tired, but fuck me play this game it's amazing and the music and visuals and every piece is just... Oh my God.

I hope you enjoyed reading this delirious mish mash of words I wanted to say about a game I really love.

No joke, 10/10

Would crash into the sun again.

Thanks!!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Francis Spufford’s “Cahokia Jazz”

Tomorrow (December 5), I'm at Flyleaf Books in Chapel Hill, NC, with my new solarpunk novel The Lost Cause, which 350.org's Bill McKibben called "The first great YIMBY novel: perceptive, scientifically sound, and extraordinarily hopeful."

Francis Spufford's Cahokia Jazz is a fucking banger: it's a taut, unguessable whuddunit, painted in ultrablack noir, set in an alternate Jazz Age in a world where indigenous people never ceded most the west to the USA. It's got gorgeously described jazz music, a richly realized modern indigenous society, and a spectacular romance. It's amazing:

https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Cahokia-Jazz/Francis-Spufford/9781668025451

Cahokia is the capital city of Deseret, a majority Catholic, majority indigenous state at the western frontier of the USA. It swirls with industry, wealth, and racial politics, serving as both a refuge from Jim Crow and a hive of Klan activity. Joe Barrow is new in town, a veteran who survived the trenches of WWI and moved to Cahokia with his army buddy, Phineas Drummond, where they both quickly rose through the police ranks to become detectives.

We meet Joe and Phin on a frigid government building rooftop in the predawn night, attending a grisly murder. Someone has laid out a man across a skylight, cut his throat, split his chest open, and excised his heart. This Aztec-inspired killing points at Cahokian indigenous independence gangs, some of whom embrace an apocryphal tale of being descended from Mesoamerican conquerors in the distant past. That makes this more than a mere ugly killing – it's a political flashpoint.

The Klan insists that Cahokia's system of communal land ownership is a form of communism (Russia never ceded Alaska in this world, so the USSR is now extending tendrils across the Bering Strait). They also insist that Cahokians' reverence for the Sun and the Moon – indigenous royals who have formally ceded power to elected leaders – makes them a threat to democracy. Finally, the Cahokians' fusion of Catholocism with traditional faith makes the spritually suspect. A rooftop blood-sacrifice could cause simmering political tension to boil over, and for ever white oligarch drooling at the thought of enclosing the shared land of Deseret, there are a thousand useful idiots in white hoods.

Joe and Phin now have to solve the murder – before the city explodes. But Phin seems more interested in pinning the case on an Indian – any Indian – than he is on solving the murder. And Joe – an indigenous orphan who has neither the language nor the culture that the Cahokians expect him to have – is reappraising his long habit of deferring to Phin.

This is the setup for a delicious whodunnit with a large helping of what if…? but Spufford doesn't stop there. Joe, you see, is a jazz pianist, and his old bandmates are back in town, and one thing leads to another and before you know it he's sitting in with them at a speakeasy. This gives Spufford a chance to roll out some of the most evocative, delicious descriptions of jazz since Doctorow's Ragtime (no relation):

https://www.penguinrandomhouse.ca/books/41529/ragtime-by-e-l-doctorow/9780812978186

It's not just the jazz. This is a book that fires on every cylinder: there's brilliant melee (and a major battle set-piece that's stunning), a love storyline, gunplay, and a murder mystery that kept me guessing right to the end. There's fakeouts and comeuppances, bravery and treachery, and above all, a sense of possibility.

Most of what I know about Cahokia – and the giant mounds it left behind near St Louis – I learned from David Graeber and David Wengrow's brilliant work of heterodox history, The Dawn of Everything:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/08/three-freedoms/#anti-fatalism

Graeber and Wengrow's project is to make us reassess the blank spaces in our historical record, the ways of living that we have merely guessed at, based on fragments and suppositions. They point out that these inferences are vastly overdetermined, and that there are many other guesses that fit the facts equally well, or even better. This is a powerful message, one that insists that history – and thus the future – is contingent and up for grabs. We don't have to live the way we do, and we haven't always lived this way. We might live differently in the future.

In evoking a teeming, indigenous metropolis, conjured out of minor historical divergences, Spufford follows Graeber and Wengrow in cracking apart inevitability and letting all the captive possibility flow out. The fact that he does this in a first rate novel makes the accomplishment doubly impressive – and enjoyable.

It's EFF's Power Up Your Donation Week: this week, donations to the Electronic Frontier Foundation are matched 1:1, meaning your money goes twice as far. I've worked with EFF for 22 years now and I have always been - and remain - a major donor, because I've seen firsthand how effective, responsible and brilliant this organization is. Please join me in helping EFF continue its work!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/04/cahokia/#the-sun-and-the-moon

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #11

Starting with Weird Science.

TWO people named Grey participated in this show?

Cosmo: Ooh, what a tasty-looking dinner! I love potatoes! Me: Cosmo, aren't you allergic to potato skins? Cosmo: /eats the lightbulb. Me: ... Carry on.

Really cool hallway angle! Also:

angry.

Those dance and voting posters have been up for quite a while, which seems unusual for a school. Did we really skip several weeks forward in time with Episode 3, then everything is crammed in tight after that? Where's that dang moon? I need it.

Seriously, Sneezy Hawkins dance has been up since Hazel arrived, and it's been many weeks since then.

Cosmo and Wanda altering the laws of science in order to make her science project work is hilarious. Of course they would.

How many music rooms does 1 school need?

Hazel's class is near the entrance of school, 2nd floor. If you look at the school's front, she's on the right-hand side.

JORGEN'S BACK!! Time to wreck Hazel for altering physics.

Basically Hazel, with no sense of self-preservation: Jorgen, I tried using magic to cheat a competition. Jorgen internally: I'm very mad and also disappointed.

Dev is the grumpiest little meditator. Doesn't even chant, smh. Why does his bag say "Mediocre," are we gonna talk about that?

Hazel's parents are so caring.

Mystery She Wished

Oh, noir? I was just thinking about noir earlier toda- WANING CRESCENT!

Hazel and her dad watching movies together is cute. She likes scary movies and he likes the paranormal- They're a perfect pair.

"I have to charge my ghost crystals" okay Dad.

Cracking up at Hazel interviewing Wanda for her mystery. Big "Where's Wanda?" vibes.

I was sitting here like "Why is she asking Wanda?" and then I was like "Oh yeah, she still lives here. She lives across the hall. She pays rent." I like that Hazel thinks she's on bad terms with the landlady.

I said in Post 10 that I was sad we hadn't seen more of Cosmo and Wanda's life in the apartment because I felt like we were missing opportunities to engage with the environment (and see them struggling to be human). This is exactly what I wanted.

Cosmo: Unless... I did it and framed Wanda?

Okay, now you're just being meta. I was gonna not tell readers that you're responsible for Wanda's disappearance in "Where's Wanda?" and that's why it's funny Hazel's interviewing you two, but... that's WAY funny they put that in there.

Those are some... weird stares. Why do they look different than the other characters? Is it the eyes? Also, this guy sounds like Daran Norris.

I like how Cosmo and Wanda still have their crowns while in pencil and notepad disguise.

Hazel talking about how she had to sleep to recover from the mystery "and also because I'm 10 and can't set my own bedtime."

Hazel is being so weird to this poor kid. That's her first introduction to him; that's hilarious. He's probably a twin since he doesn't recognize her on their second conversation.

OG series Elvis? MARK CHANG??

Hazel's parents: We're going to dinner with the new family. Hazel: They're cannibals and I'm gonna die.

/staring intensely: "We always follow social norms and blend in! :)" What the heck is wrong with this guy? These two are totally aliens. Is that why Mark's picture was on the conspiracy board?

I like how Hazel's stuck in mystery mode until she solves the mystery because she wished to be like SDFKJSDFISOKJD OH NO-

Okay. She wished to be like the detectives on TV, who didn't use magic to solve their mysteries, and I should really pause before typing, but in my mind I was like "There's literally no way they're going to put an Easter egg in this pantry."

... Oh. I 100% thought I spotted the aliens from "So Totally Spaced Out" who were defeated by eating them, but upon rewinding and pausing, that looks like a regular rabbit.

Now I'm disappointed.

Twins! I was right. Also, this is a really dark episode for a show that still, this many episodes in, refuses to give me the child abuse I'm craving.

This is how normal people eat with guests.

... The twist is that they're doomsday preppers? I thought that was obvious? They said they were preparing for the end of the world and they were stockpiling supplies for that. Maybe I'm too old for this episode- I didn't know that was unclear to Hazel sdfklj. The plot twist at the end is still going to be they're aliens, I'm sure of it.

(It was not; there was no twist, although the parents did dump all their food on the ground. I fear we will never know who was there.)

Prime Meridian Love

Hazel's into both manga and anime! Nice. We might've heard about the manga earlier, but I forgot.

Jasmine: Don't tell us the whole story! I want to be surprised when I read it. Me, liveblogging: Uh-oh.

Finally a school dance after all those posters since Episode 1! ... Not the same dance! I'm dying inside.

She's totally gonna wish her manga fish crush into reality. Question is... Are we about to get a "can't wish away true love" plot, or totally different drama?

omfg, he's dying because he's a fish. That's not the direction I thought this was going. I could've sworn his wall poster depicts him on a cliff? I'll have to review when we're back in her room.

Kennueth: I will not fall for your siren song >:(

Whoops. Also, confirmation that humans can't know about magic!

Oh no, he's going to be obsessed with his own book and try to see the ending? Is that it? ...... No? Hm. I guess he's fine with it.

I don't have anything to say about this screenshot, but it should be appreciated.

FAIRY WORLD! ... I don't love that we're skipping straight to it? And now we're montaging through it? This is her second onscreen time and her first was at the dreary DMV, assuming I'm watching in the correct order. We don't get to see her being wowed? I'm kinda disappointed.

Oh, we're back in her room. That makes me sad. Also... I guess it's more common for 10-year-olds to have crushes than I thought, considering Timmy had one too. I should really look this up.

-> Oh, it is. Maybe I need to re-tune my allo characters; I always assumed crushes come with puberty, but apparently not.

Oh boy, Dev's about to be annihilated by a tall fish guy. I enjoy his expressions and tiny hands. Also, I really like how we sometimes get to see his eyes over his glasses since we didn't get that with the Pixies.

He looks like he's wearing the necklace from the manga. Is he a fan of the series and is he going to attend Hazel's book club since her friends couldn't? Finally friend?? (I doubt it).

Oh wait, maybe he will.

Hazel: ?? Are you a Super Meridian-head? :) Dev at a school dance:

"Get off my back about it!!" okay, goof.

I like how Kennueth described Dev's robotic companions as "metallic birds."

sldkfjsdljf, hang on, pause pause pause. Is Kennueth spoiling plot points Hazel doesn't know about and we're going to loop back to how her friends didn't enjoy her spoiling the manga? That's great!

Wanda dog-ears books... Good to know. I'm glad she's still implied to be a terrible librarian. Cosmo won't even share his books.

Hazel: Our friendship is more important than any book club! Me, who saw Mikey Munroe weasel a speedboat out of Bunsen with very similar words: Are we being for real right now?

sdlkfj, Hazel hitting him with the "I think we work best just as friends. I'm only 10." Okay, that's hilarious.

Hazel did not get upset about spoilers and Dev did not come to book club :(

Hey, this is related to nothing as I get my snack, but what was Poof doing during his parents' 10k-year vacation? I assume he went with them. He was in boarding school during Season 10 and maybe he still is, but... hm. Where's my boy? I know he's still canon; his picture's in Episode 1.

I'm gettin' nervous. -> Me, unfortunately didn't get more than 3 episodes into "Fairly Odder" and doesn't know if he showed up there.

Okay, but... Cosmo and Wanda wouldn't leave behind their son who's faced multiple kidnapping attempts, including from Jorgen: the man who wanted to yoink Poof and not let him visit his parents for centuries... right?

They wouldn't take their son away from Timmy, the brother he grew up with, and then ALSO ditch their son. Right?

Please tell me we're not going to get Poof with issues. I know I was confused in Liveblog 10 about the lack of child trauma in this show, but I didn't mean him.

-> Has given Aged-Up Poof more issues than literally any other character in my fanfics.

[waitmyturtles]

Turtles Catches Up With Old GMMTV: Not Me, and Negotiating the Romance Edition

[What’s going on here? After joining Tumblr and discovering Thai BLs through KinnPorsche in 2022, I began watching GMMTV’s new offerings -- and realized that I had a lot of history to catch up on, to appreciate the more recent works that I was delving into. From tropes to BL frameworks, what we’re watching now hails from somewhere, and I’m learning about Thai BL's history through what I’m calling the Old GMMTV Challenge (OGMMTVC). Starting with recommendations from @absolutebl on their post regarding how GMMTV is correcting for its mistakes with its shows today, I’ve made an expansive list to get me through a condensed history of essential/classic/significant Thai BLs produced by GMMTV and many other BL studios. My watchlist, pasted below, lists what I’ve watched and what’s upcoming, along with the reviews I’ve written so far. Today, I offer thoughts on Not Me, GMMTV's first BL that decentralized romance to share space with an issues-based storyline.]

Yes! I feel like getting to Not Me on the Old GMMTV Challenge list was a touch of a milestone, as I engaged a good number of friends (including the wonderful @wen-kexing-apologist, @ranchthoughts, and @chickenstrangers, when we're not talking about Only Friends, ha) on their love and/or appreciation for Not Me.

Not Me falls into the sub-echelon of BLs on the OGMMTVC list that navigated romance storylines with what I call either issues-based storylines (as we also see in The Eclipse), or other genre-based storylines (such as crime storylines in Manner of Death and KinnPorsche). Manner of Death was the first of this kind of BL (or maybe it wasn't a BL?) to appear on the scene, premiering on WeTV, and Not Me was GMMTV's first foray into this world.

I'm going to break down this review into a couple of potentially non-congruent parts, and I hope this all comes together. I'm going to take a look at:

1) How successful Not Me was as a holistic story, facing competing sides from its issues-based storyline and the need to incorporate a romance storyline for OffGun/SeanWhite,

2) How the in-built sponsorships of the show reflected on the issues-based storyline that Not Me was telling, and

3) In an attempt to tie these two together, whether or not the DanYok storyline specifically was helpful or detracting from the success of Not Me as a complete drama.

I admire both Nuchy Anucha and Golf Tanwarin (of Not Me and The Eclipse, respectively) for tackling BIG issues in their BL-centered shows. From a narrative infrastructural perspective, I cannot imagine the writing and directing of these shows to be easy. I've learned a TON about the Western romance genre from @lurkingshan, my drama structure guru par excellence, because honestly -- while I've watched a lot of Asian dramas in mah day, noting which dramas nail it by either being rooted in or inspired by the Western romance genre in terms of their fundamental elements is something I'm still new to. (Thanks to @lurkingshan and @neuroticbookworm for reviewing this post in advance for accuracy!)

When I was first putting together the OGMMTVC watchlist, my general assumption about Manner of Death and Not Me was that MoD was not a BL, and that Not Me was a BL, by way of pure genre definition and the marketing of OffGun as the shipped leads of Not Me.

I discussed in my MoD review the debates between whether or not the show qualifies as a BL, and honestly, I think it's up to the eye of the beholder (and I had a lot of fun debating both sides). To me, MoD is first and foremost a very good and intriguing crime story (written by the EXCELLENT screenwriter, Title Nirittisai, also of the EXCELLENT BL, He's Coming To Me), regardless of the BL label/definition. And the romance between Bun and Tan (led by the wonderful MaxTul) was, to me, the icing on the cake of the successful crime story, not central to the solving of the mystery of the plot, but certainly a driver of the dramatic lift and impact of the show (and OF COURSE, it helps that MaxTul are just chef's kiss with their chemistry).

My drama friends and followers of the OGMMTVC know from my passing notes that I had quibbles about the structure of Not Me, keeping in mind that Manner of Death was able to decentralize romance while still keeping the BunTan coupling as a driver of the drama as a whole. After the first five episodes of Not Me, I was wondering.... what exactly am I watching here?

I admit: I'm not the biggest fan of anarchy, and extreme political movements as a whole. I'm more of an advocate for long-term change, and coalition-based advocacy. (I also experienced misogyny while engaging with anarchists back in mah day, and just -- that left a bad taste in my mouth.) It didn't sit right with me that multiple men in this show -- Black, White, and Gram, specifically -- all did not engage Eugene (played by the wonderful Film Rachanun) in prior explanations to their future actions. Generally speaking, when I see male anarchists either portrayed and/or acting in real life like that, I tend to check the fuck out.

I think that Not Me spent more time than necessary demonstrating that at the start of the series, these guys were acting out of their own set of uninformed and/or ill-informed concrete beliefs. What I did appreciate was that the show, over the course of the series, had the guys experience change by way of education (especially through their conversations with their classmate, Nuchy), and by the exposure to new minds in their space, namely White's approach to anarchic tactics being different, more measured, and more thoughtful than Black's. I think all of the guys (.... maybe except for Yok, but I'll get to that in a bit) ultimately demonstrated a much deeper and more intricate understanding of the complications of their beliefs, and how power functions in capitalistic societies, by the end of the series.

I spoke with @bengiyo and @lurkingshan when I was watching the series the first time around about how I felt the romance storyline of SeanWhite was a bit too fast in its implementation -- especially because, again, the first five episodes were so issues-based, and even the majority of episode 6 was based in the attempt to raid the drinks manufacturer.

But, @ranchthoughts reminded me that the first indication of Sean recognizing that White might be a man that he could love was at the start of episode 6, at the end of Gumpa's fake kidnapping raid -- when White said that he'd sell out his friends for the sake of saving Sean's life, and implored Sean to value his own life, which is something we could not imagine Black ever doing.

Thanks to @ranchthoughts's note, and a close rewatch of episode 6, I agree with her (thank you, Ranch!), and I think the series's transition to the SeanWhite romance through episodes 6 (the raid), 7 (the protest and the equality celebration) and 8 (the sleeping face-touching and the first kiss) was not as clunky as I first had experienced. Referencing @lurkingshan and @neuroticbookworm's notes to me (thank you, ladies!), it's also important to note that in relation to Sean's huge family loss earlier in his life: his hearing from an empathic person about the value of his life may not have been a message that Sean had previously been given.

All that to be said, though -- it's clear that Not Me had issues with that transition, if I had to rewatch the episodes to catch those nuances. Especially because an indication that this show either would be a romance (which it wasn't quite, exactly) or an issues-based show (which it was and wasn't), all wasn't very clear, even to the end. @lurkingshan and @neuroticbookworm, in the course of my writing this review, noted that parkour was an important piece to the storytelling -- I agree with that, and I might even argue that the early depictions of it (along with the cute dude pile, gotta love a cute dude pile) seemed to indicate a story moving away from romance and more towards an issues-based perspective.

While I spent a lot of words on this, I do feel that this a minor quibble, especially as I rewatched some episodes and I TRULY enjoyed AND LOVED the OffGun dynamic. Y'all know that I wasn't sparing in my critique of Third in Theory of Love, and I have to say: Gun's Third did not show his range. Gun was AMAZING IN NOT ME. I now know what y'all are talking about with his acting. His White VERSUS his Black -- oh my god. Brilliant. He kicked fucking ASS, and convincingly demonstrated character differences between White and Black. (I need to see Gun in more roles like that!) And also! I am an admitted Off girlie (cc @lurkingshan). And Off totally held it down in Not Me. I thought he was FANTASTIC, and despite the storyline not holding his transition to SeanWhite as smoothly as I would have liked, I think he held it together for a convincing deep-in-love posture by the end of the series. (And I must give it to OffGun for managing a fabulous intimate scene, which I know from @bengiyo was rare -- if not the first time that GMMTV had a sex scene in a BL. OffGun were fantastic, and I'm glad they held the mantle for that moment.)

And of course, OffGun gave us one of the most iconic moments in Thai BLs, one that I have loved going back to time and time again in the course of my processing this show.

(Source: @namchyoon!)

So -- speaking of a show being issues-based, I want to take a second to talk about the in-built advertisements in Not Me, from the Suzukis (POWER YOU UP!), to the Oishiis ("it's cold and fresh"), to the soy milk, everything.

Like I said earlier: I think Not Me demonstrated the growth of the guys in their education about the efficacy of their original anarchic tactics. Sean himself states that with White by his side, he will continue to fight for what's right. Not Me doesn't mince words with the issues that it examines -- but it does so alongside these in-built advertisements.

As an #old, I gotta hand it to Nuchy and team. I appreciate that the showmakers did not flinch away from the reality in which this show was made. I'm glad it was sponsored all over the place -- of course it would be, as an OffGun vehicle. The reality of a global capitalistic society was placed starkly AGAINST a dialogue of the pitfalls of that very kind of capitalistic society. It was a WELCOME juxtaposition. We literally could not have watched this particular show if it wasn't for the sponsorships -- who knows if it would have gotten made. I appreciate that this show demonstrated the kind of slow change -- that we NEED to make change in a world that doesn't change very quickly -- up against the stark political messages of the show itself.

I think that's sophisticated commentary. It didn't shy away from reality. For me, the show was summed up beautifully by Nuchy in the finale.

If I were to translate what Nuchy is saying here by way of the nature of the society that we have: we have rules in place. It's our biological predilection to want social order. We have customs in place -- like advertisements for shows. Can we change the paradigm on a dime? Not always. I thought it was courageous of Not Me to place those advertisements next to potentially hot political commentary (especially for a Thai government and conservative society that doesn't always take well to critical commentary) and serve it up to BL fans and drama fans alike, many of whom are younger and can contemplate positions like anarchic frameworks -- and to be creative about how to make good change happen from those positions.

(With this point, I wonder if it was truly Not Me's influence that allowed GMMTV to feel comfortable in its decision to air The Eclipse the next year without sponsorship funding. I hope so, and I'll get to that more during my The Eclipse rewatch later on in the OGMMTVC project.)

To tie up what I hope I can successfully bring together by way of an examination about romance and politics in this show: I really thought the DanYok side coupling was indicative (more so than the sponsorships) of the downfall of basic social expectations on a show like this. I totally see why DanYok is beloved -- listen, the chemistry that First Kanaphan has with EVERYONE is mind-blowing, let alone Gawin Caskey, a deep fave of mine. DanYok is definitely still a popular ship -- just check the tag on this site.

Anyone who reads around here knows that I'm not a fan of the branded ship pairings. That First is paired with Khaotung Thanawat now, another extraordinary actor, is so fabulous by way of pure talent, but damn it, I want them both to act with other people, too (I mean, for heavens' sake, Khao was paired with PAWIN in 55:15 Never Too Late, and they nailed it). And the economics behind them being paired with anyone else right now do not calculate, as FirstKhao are so successful as to be GMMTV's first pair to have an international fanmeet later this year in Brazil. It's the economics, in the end, that are driving this reality.

Going back to Not Me: it seemed to me that Yok's beliefs as an anarchist were set aside not for education (unlike Gram, who grew into an expanded belief framework through Nuchy), but for exposure to a really hot and artistically talented dude in Dan, who also happened to be a cop. And DanYok certainly provided a spicy edge to this show that could be comfortably marketed next to SeanWhite.

Now. I am extremely critical of the power cops hold. I also get, as a simp for dudes, the power of hot artist dudes. I get that Yok found Dan hot and appealing. I get it. If I were Yok, I'd be like, all ogly eyes for Dan, too. My man, I get it. But. If I had committed to my friends to not fuck up our work together for the sake of a crush, then I'd have to check myself. Separate work and romance, especially in dangerous situations -- that's advice that I'd give to my kids.

Yok's trajectory was unlike Gram's, in that Yok totally fell apart for Dan, seemingly forgetting the missions and values that he had committed himself to. I am ALL for change and growth (hello, Khai). Yok didn't seem to change. Yok seemed to trade his convictions (cc @bengiyo and @lurkingshan, thank you for the convo) to simp over Dan, a dude that, holy fuck, THEN sold his Yok and his crew OUT, AFTER admitting that he had killed Sean's dad. WOW. I mean, Dan's complicated! Yok might like complicated dudes, I respect that! But Yok seemed to totally forget, in the face of attraction and love, that he really had committed himself to his group that depended on his engagement for missions, and -- if you're gonna commit to a dangerous thing, at least don't leave your friends high and dry. And putting your trust in a cop that may -- and then DID -- sell you out is only just more problematic.

Did Yok redeem himself at the end? I think so, possibly. I think he showed critical awareness for the risk of his attraction to Dan. But I do feel like GMMTV played First a bit. Yok, Akk (also a cop), and now Sand. These are characters that are kinda givin' it up for the hot dudes. I want to see more backbone in First's characters. I'm not saying that I would have liked to see Yok as a one-sided character. But I think Yok's beliefs as an anarchy-inspired character, who traded his mindset in for love for a cop, could have been explored further. It wasn't, because there was SO MUCH else going on in the show (I haven't even mentioned Gram and Eugene, and Mond was SO GOOD as Gram), and I kind of think that the show added DanYok as a spicy BL romantic edge that really needed as much intricate ethical closure as only SeanWhite ended up getting.

Not Me was not a perfect show. I offer criticism here. But: I did VERY MUCH enjoy it, because it held a LOT, and I think Nuchy Anucha, as I said earlier, was extremely courageous for tackling ALL of what she did in this show. I love @he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle's tags on this post that indicate that the show went very deep in depicting accurate protest postures in art and messaging. I will absolutely appreciate this show for showing me Gun's true range. This show makes me VERY happy for OffGun's return in Cooking Crush. Mond and Film, I loved them. I have quibbles about the way in which the show's issues-based message may have been undermined for the sake of DanYok's love story. But I love First, and I LOVE GAWIN. DanYok could have been leveraged better for something more enlightening than an attraction-based romance.

For a show that held a LOT, I think the majority of the show was successful. Not Me will be at the top of my list of shows that I'll want to rewatch, to enjoy SeanWhite's unique turn as a couple that continually, in every single episode, spent intentional time learning more about each other. The love they ended up developing, alongside the issues they believed in, ultimately came together convincingly, which was indeed a dramatically complicated and successful feat.

[Okay friends! NEXT! I have wrapped up 55:15 Never Too Late, and that review will drop next week. I added 55:15 for its rumored BL storyline and macro commentary about BL culture from a GMMTV lens. I gotta say: Khaotung Thanawat's storyline went way beyond BL. It was a gorgeous queer coming-of-age storyline that included playing against an older version of himself in Kob Songsit (Kinn's dad), and just -- it was surprisingly sophisticated and mature. I love that GMMTV het dramas do not shy away from queer storylines, and I think 55:15 provided some fantastic generational context for what it meant, and means, to be queer in Thailand over the course of decades. I can't wait to process it.

NOW! I SHOULD be starting my long-awaited Bad Buddy rewatch, for which I will need some time, and will take a brief break from writing reviews to pen Many Deep Thoughts. HOWEVER! I am also going to pause on the OGMMTVC to watch Cutie Pie and Cutie Pie 2 You, to get to know Zee x NuNew, as they seem to be the first Thai BL pairing to come to America next month. This is culturally important! I'm gonna do my ZeeNew homework.

So, after next week, I'll be on a bit of a break for a beat, but I'll be back real soon with the motherlode of honorary analyses for my fave Thai BL of all time in Bad Buddy.

Here's the status of the OGMMTVC watchlist. For a more up-to-date version, please check this link!

1) The Love of Siam (2007) (movie) (review here) 2) My Bromance (2014) (movie) (review here) 3) Love Sick and Love Sick 2 (2014 and 2015) (review here) 4) Gay OK Bangkok Season 1 (2016) (a non-BL queer series directed by Jojo Tichakorn and written by Aof Noppharnach) (review here) 5) Make It Right (2016) (review here) 6) SOTUS (2016-2017) (review here) 7) Gay OK Bangkok Season 2 (2017) (a non-BL queer series directed by Jojo Tichakorn and written by Aof Noppharnach) (review here) 8) Make It Right 2 (2017) (review here) 9) Together With Me (2017) (review here) 10) SOTUS S/Our Skyy x SOTUS (2017-2018) (review here) 11) Love By Chance (2018) (review here) 12) Kiss Me Again: PeteKao cuts (2018) (no review) 13) He’s Coming To Me (2019) (review here) 14) Dark Blue Kiss (2019) and Our Skyy x Kiss Me Again (2018) (review here) 15) TharnType (2019-2020) (review here) 16) Senior Secret Love: Puppy Honey (OffGun BL cuts) (2016 and 2017) (no review) 17) Theory of Love (2019) (review here) 18) 3 Will Be Free (2019) (a non-BL and an important harbinger of things to come in 2019 and beyond re: Jojo Tichakorn pushing queer content in non-BLs) (review here) 19) Dew the Movie (2019) (review here) 20) Until We Meet Again (2019-2020) (review here) 21) 2gether (2020) and Still 2gether (2020) (review here) 22) I Told Sunset About You (2020) (review here) 23) YYY (2020, out of chronological order) (review here) 24) Manner of Death (2020-2021) (not a true BL, but a MaxTul queer/gay romance set within a genre-based show that likely influenced Not Me and KinnPorsche) (review here) 25) A Tale of Thousand Stars (2021) (review here) 26) A Tale of Thousand Stars (2021) OGMMTVC Fastest Rewatch Known To Humankind For The Sake Of Rewatching Our Skyy 2 x BBS x ATOTS (re-review here) 27) Lovely Writer (2021) (review here) 28) Last Twilight in Phuket (2021) (the mini-special before IPYTM) (review here) 29) I Promised You the Moon (2021) (review here) 30) Not Me (2021-2022) (review coming) 31) Bad Buddy (2021-2022) (thesis here) 32) 55:15 Never Too Late (2021-2022) (not a BL, but a GMMTV drama that features a macro BL storyline about shipper culture and the BL industry) (watching) 33) Bad Buddy (2021-2022) and Our Skyy 2 x BBS x ATOTS (2023) OGMMTVC Rewatch 34) Secret Crush On You (2022) [watching for Cheewin’s trajectory of studying queer joy from Make It Right (high school), to SCOY (college), to Bed Friend (working adults)] 35) KinnPorsche (2022) (tag here) 36) KinnPorsche (2022) OGMMTVC Fastest Rewatch Known To Humankind For the Sake of Re-Analyzing the KP Cultural Zeitgeist 37) The Eclipse (2022) (tag here) 38) The Eclipse OGMMTVC Rewatch For the Sake of Re-Analyzing a Politics-Focused Show After Not Me 39) GAP (2022-2023) (Thailand’s first GL) 40) My School President (2022-2023) and Our Skyy 2 x My School President (2023) 41) Moonlight Chicken (2023) (tag here) 42) Bed Friend (2023) (tag here) (Cheewin’s latest show, depicting a queer joy journey among working adults) 43) Be My Favorite (2023) (tag here) (I’m including this for BMF’s sophisticated commentary on Krist’s career past as a BL icon) 44) Wedding Plan (2023) (Recommended as an important trajectory in the course of MAME’s work and influence from TharnType) 45) Only Friends (2023)]

[s-che]

“you are a good nurse” (knives out and great men)

***(this is extremely spoilery for both knives out and glass onion. read with caution)***

In quarantine, in a smaller apartment than you might expect, Benoit Blanc is playing Among Us. This is a game—like Clue—which the celebrity detective hates. It’s too simple, too obvious, and too easy to resolve. Although he holds himself to be better than these “stupid things,” they are also a weakness—later, we will be told that he nearly failed to solve a case because it was too simple all along. For now, the gentleman sleuth is doing poorly in isolation, suffering from an all-consuming boredom which descends between cases (a trait he shares with his literary antecedents in Hercule Poirot and Sherlock Holmes). This is, all in all, a tremendous reintroduction to Blanc, the detective who, in 2019’s Knives Out, solved the murder of James PattersoHarlan Thrombey and who—in 2022’s Glass Onion—will attend a murder-mystery themed weekend getaway of the innermost circle of tech billionaire Elon MusMiles Bron. Blanc shares DNA with the classic sleuths—but he is both more and less of a hero than they were. Much of that has to do with the communities he finds himself in. Murder mysteries have always run on high-energy casts of colorful characters—most especially in the works of Agatha Christie, whose Mousetrap, Murder on the Orient Express, and And Then There Were None feel like important steps on the road to Knives Out. Working with big tropes and cliches makes sense in a genre which is, in many ways, about developing and subverting reader expectations, and the two Knives Out films certainly build on that mold, establishing a set of stock characters drawn from the here and the now. Whether we’re dealing with a wealthy college student who sets her political beliefs aside to bow to the demands of her family (Katherine Langford as Meg Thrombey, Knives Out) or an internet micro-influencer about to explode into the mainstream screaming about the downfall of western masculinity (Dave Bautista as Duke Cody, Glass Onion), the supporting casts of both Benoit Blanc murder-flicks are fresh tropes for a fresh culture. They’re also—critically—all drawn from a particular world. Children of wealthy families, publishing executives, influencers, lifestyle models—these are people given a huge privilege, not only in the quality of their lifestyles but in the degree of their control over the direction of their lives. Although Knives Out and Glass Onion both  depict circles dependent on the charity of individual, powerful men—Harlan Thrombey and Miles Bron, respectively—they are also circles made up of people who society grants decision-making power, imbuing them with the belief that they are the protagonists of life granted the god-given right to personhood in contrast to those in sidelined roles—the help, medical staff, and “Derol.” The heroes of both films, however, are the odd ones out. They are neither the suspects (the colorful ensembles of those who “could have done it”) nor the celebrity sleuth himself (on whom everyone depends to solve the mystery and straighten things out), but rather those who are pushed to the side—assumed to be objects, not actors. Marta and Helen are the Watsons of both movies—the characters through whom we view the story, whose experiences frame and color our own (Helen takes on this role predominantly in the second half of the movie, once her true identity has been revealed to the audience). Unlike Holmes’s Watson or Poirot’s Arthur Hastings, however, these two characters are not neutral “straight characters” but individuals who suffer an active isolation, people who—however “normal” they might be in comparison to the cast—are marginalized and assumed to occupy a passive space. This positioning impacts their perspective, skewing things for viewers, reminding us that there is no apolitical way to view these events—and not to normalize the antics of the elite. In both cases—as Marta is Harlan’s long-term nurse and Helen is dedicated to seeking justice for her sister—they are presumed to, and in many cases do, act without ego, functioning solely as objects and in the ecosystem which surrounds the powerful decision makers (Harlan Thrombey and Miles Bron) and support systems on which the protagonists of life can lean. Although the films work to counteract this assumption—reminding us of the fundamental personhood of both Helen and Marta—it is also partially through their dedication to serving others that both Helen and Marta succeed. Blanc puts this clearly in Knives Out when he reveals that he knew Marta was involved in the murder from the start: “I want you to remember something very important:” he says “You won not by playing the game Harlan's way, but yours.” The heroes of these films do not succeed by using their invisible status to their advantage in playing “the game Harlan’s way,” getting one up on everybody by being the cleverest person in the room. Rather, they succeed by staying true to their values and doing what they know is right—even if that means sacrificing themself to the cause of another because it is right. For Marta this is attempting to save Fran—for Helen it is running out of clever ways to seek justice for her sister, and setting fire to theb building instead. By working against their own self-interest in the “game” or “puzzle” of a murder mystery, both Helen and Marta defeat their antagonists. In Knives Out, the Thrombey family spends much of their time bickering over who really deserves to inherit Harlan’s legacy—and the film is clear that none of them can truly claim to have built success themselves, as each was granted the privilege and security of their family’s wealth. None are truly as independent—we might say, “protagonal” —as they believe. Glass Onion takes this a step further, attacking the “source” of the cycle of  wealth. While Harlan Thrombey seems to have been a generally good man, a skilled storyteller, and a strong judge of character—it was his decision to reward Marta, and not his kin, with the inheritance—Glass Onion’s counterpart in Miles Bron is explicitly framed as lacking substance (being a “Glass Onion,” which appears deep but is in fact easy to see through) and having simply been in the right place in the right time to steal someone else’s work. There is no “self-made man” or “good billionaire” in Glass Onion—only people who were lucky enough to be given the opportunity to step on someone else on their way up the ladder. This developed critique of “great men” plays directly into the events of Glass Onion’s climax. Unlike Knives Out, where the police are presented as broadly interested in justice and glad to work alongside Blanc although their investigation has already ended, Glass Onion demonstrates explicitly how systems of power—the courts and the police, but also social dynamics and community pressures—can be bent to the defense of those assumed to be powerful decision makers (like Miles Bron or Ransom Thrombey). There were allusions to this in Knives—where Ransom claims that Benoit solving the murder means nothing, since he has good lawyers and will avoid a significant sentence—but they are eventually unsubstantial, as Marta tricks Ransom into confessing in front of two officers and he is arrested as a result. When, in Glass Onion, when the only evidence to Bron’s crime is burned, Blanc himself seems to surrender, claiming that “This is where my jurisdiction ends” before leaving the room (though not before handing Helen the physical and emotional material she needs to literally burn Miles Bron’s island home to the ground). Although Helen eventually manages to set fire to the Mona Lisa—defeating Bron by ruining his public image, not through criminal prosecution—this does not seem to be her intention when she begins destroying the mansion. In this, Glass Onion seems to develop a second critique of Knives Out—not only do we come to question the validity of the narrative of “good” billionaires, we are shown that, faced with hostile powers insulating  themselves within systems of law and order, the only path to justice may be working outside the law and our basic (i.e. carceral) assumptions of what “justice” is. As the emergency  services arrive to pick up a body, Benoit sits on the beach, smoking a cigar. His hands are clean, and he has inspired Helen to the heroic action that she must take. He is as smart as any Holmes, but he did not do his part in this adventure in the way Holmes would, by playing the game, solving the puzzle, and handing things over to the police. Rather, Benoit has himself taken on a supportive role—supportive to Helen, who has, in turn, taken action and found justice for her sister. He understands the limits of his jurisdiction—in other words, he knows when it is actually his turn to be the protagonist, and when it is his role to inspire others. In a world full of people who claim to have risen to power by their skill and focus, Blanc actually has remarkable skill—but he uses them, ultimately, to ends of uplifting the meek, not simply restoration of order.