#also i know i said i wanted to do something with Matt and Edgar or something with Michael from Axe but shhhhhhhhhh

[lazy-toad]

I've been thinking a lot about season 2 and Hunter today

[felixcosm]

Thought about your Edgar post for like 5 seconds too long, and I wanted to say how much I think that it seems that Mike is really judging their characters based on personality rather than actions if that makes sense?

They've both done some truly awful and heinous things - Edgar especially - but when not caught up in time travel bullshit, Edgar is a genuinely kind and compassionate person. Something that, as his boyfriend, Mike sees a lot of. Mike on the other hand, can be a bit of a bitch sometimes. (said with all the love in my heart of course)

Obviously Mike Walters is the true champion at seeing his loved ones through rose-tinted glasses with Edgar being one of the two most blatant examples (the other being Anne imo), but I do think there's something about the Mikes saying that the truth is what they feel to be emotionally true. They have flaws that they don't like about themselves, whereas Edgar is someone they love, and someone who loves them back. They see a lot of cruelty from the both of them, but they also see a lot of kindness and love from Edgar. Therefore in the Mikes' eyes, they are a worse person than Edgar.

Not sure if I quite articulated this great, but your post got me thinking!

(also when I say Mike, I mean Mike Walters as a species)

No no you're absolutely right and I am obsessed with how Mike says things that feel true in the moment even if they are blatantly wrong or impossible to prove (him telling Matt he loved him may be a bad example since later Mikey says he was only trying to be nice but I feel like there is certainly more to that whole scene than Mikey was willing to admit to Matt or his podcast listeners at the time)

And I feel like even though Edgar has obvious personality flaws as well, like he can be petty and mean (re: Rugby) he often speaks over Mike as if Mike's feelings don't matter (making decisions for him, disregarding his opinions and emotions during missions, treating him like a warm body to be sent out into the field), or manipulating him (Dylan mentioned in the commentaries how often Edgar puts Mikey in a position where he's the "adult" and Mikey's the "petulant child" re: 118) - and it seems like the Mikes do sort of know about it. Like Michael's still holding a grudge about Rugby so he's clearly not blind to Edgar's less than savory moments.

But that won't matter to them because in the end they will look past facts.

I'm also fascinated at how much of an unreliable Narrator Mike Walters is. Even when we have an episode where he's speaking to other Mikes or to himself, we can't fully trust what he says because he will apply his emotions to a situation and make decisions based on that.

We rarely do see Edgar and the others alone in scenes where they are themselves without Mikey interjecting with his own narrative. Which makes sense, as this is WOE.BEGONE and its the story of Mike Walters, so we see the world through their eyes.

I think you can probably say Edgar is a better person than Mike though and I am completely agreeing with your points. But at the same time I do think its funny how Mikey leads us to believe that Edgar is perfect and holy while his boyfriend just can't fucking wait to get his hands dirty.

WOE.BEGONE is a show about power and how it can corrupt someone and I think Edgar is just as good of an example as Mikey. Mikey might've started as someone who was very happy to get into the time-travel murder game as he accuses himself of being in Episode 21, but Edgar goes from being scared and unsure to the actual leader controlling the fates of all of Base.

[plasticfangtastic]

Cozy Corner Kinktober Day 21-- (3 for me)

Behind the Scenes

A Homelander X Tek Knight fanfic, and Maeve is here.

Cozy corner kinktober– prompts: 18. Voyeurism, 10. orgasm denial, alt. Kink of choice– Exhibitionism.

A/N: Tek is gonna be OOC a bit bcuz honestly he’s only been in 1 ep and god knows what he's gonna be like in S4, so am inspiring him heavily on Bruce Wayne just to help myself here (used to write superbat fics back in HS), so sorry ‘bout that… I also set this in s2 so I don’t think Tek Knight’s tumor would be as advanced as it is in gen V so his hole fetish has been toned down, as I imagined it would’ve been something that slowly progressed over time… from kink to straight up fetish.

TW: masturbation, whatever the fuck is up with Tek Knight Hole fetish, angst, both men are being pervs, Bisexual Homelander, cum swap.

word count: 5.2K

Nothing beats an ex-lover when you need the strongest distraction after being utterly humiliated.

Edgar said no lies as he equated him to a manchild. His verbal lashing stabbing deeply into every insecurity, even threatening with terminating his contract had barely raised his blood pressure. He hadn’t cared… ignoring him and educating him in what he really was… what Vought really was and how meaningless he was in return… more than condescending… it hurt… it made him want to fly to his apartment and burn it down.

Instead he was at Tek-Knight’s afterparty, mingling with lesser A-listers and wondering what had gone wrong in his life that he had to smell the foot fungus on people’s mouths.

He turned to look around after escaping another pitch for his next film, Homelander couldn’t think of doing another film when he was feeling so terribly down, his sinuses burning as he tried to not drown himself in self-pity and crying… wanting so dearly to speak to his brother in private, just to hear his words of affirmation and encouragement.

His sole consolation came in the shape of other members of the Seven being subjected to the same meandering– not that they seem to be suffering too much.

Homelander eyes Maeve as some above average publicist chatted her up.

“Want me to get that for you?”

Homelander turned to spot a sharply dressed man, their shoulders rubbing at the same height as he offered a glass of bubbly.

“Sparkling White Grape Juice. Had to go all the way down to the kitchen to find a single bottle for you.”

“I don’t need it.” Homelander said just as sharply as this Italian suit made him look.

“Your tongue is looking 15% paler than usual. You’re parched.” he replied pushing the glass closer to him– "She's aroused.”

“You fucke–

“The publicist. She is being extra flirty… If I had to guess, she its already planning on how to get Maeve to fuck her in the parking lot.”

Robert turned to face him as a red glove delicately ripped the glass off his hand, he gave it a sniff to make sure it was clean, pleasantly surprised that was the case– even the juice smelled clean.

“I know you think I have a death wish but please…”

“Stop analyzing me.”

“So who ticked you off? Couldn’t be Maeve because you wouldn’t leave her alone if that was the case? Was it Matt Damon over there– he’s so snobby? Or was it in the office?” He stared at him trying not to chuckle, seeing that slight squeeze of his jaw– Is it that new cute little thing? Or a wHole other thing?

“Stormfront doesn’t bother me.”

“Bzzz.” He chuckles while taking a sip of his champagne– lie to all those cocsuckers but you can’t lie to me John.”

“Don’t call me that.” The glass made a slight crack but it kept its shape.

“Thought you reinstated my privileges after so long.” He looks down at the rim of his glass, happy he took a sip, and the mark his lips left behind– have some pity on me. I'm going through some health issues.”

Homelander turns to stare at him, undressing him from toe to head, looking at the density of his bones, his heart for any blockages, abnormal palpitation or growing tissue, his lungs for unusual growths then as his sight sets on Robert’s head he freezes, squinting at the mass.

“Going to try some medications. Just a scare but the Doctors aren't sure how they are gonna crack this titanium skull of mine– oh the irony of an indestructible body being the reason behind my demise.” He chuckles dryly hiding the slight tremor on his voice expertly.

“Chemo?”

“And go bald!? Jesus John… I know you’re mad at me but don’t pray for my downfall. You think people would see my movies if I became ugly?”

“I don’t think it matters, nobody who comes to see your crap has any taste… or eyes.” 

That earned a smile on the other man, as he saw his tongue lick his lip, Homelander had finally found a distraction.

“This party it's so boring– want to play a game, Tek?”

Tek Knight blushes before a snide smile crossed his face, leaning even more closer towards Homelander knowing there was no reason to whisper into his ear, he just wanted to see the hairs of his neck raise as his silvery voice susurrated, Homelander couldn’t help but to choke back a moan, as the tip of his nose rubbed his ear.

“I’ll play anything you want, John. Just to help you smile again– so heads or tails?”

He was so smooth with his words, no wonder he was so popular, always around Homelander’s sphere when it came to those important women focused rankings.

Homelander knew the rules like the back of his hand, just as he knew how this man would never leave the house without that stupid casino chip on his breast pocket, if he knew Homelander was going to be in the vicinity… neither liked letting go.

It had been a torrid and sudden affair– the first time they’ve met had been like a smack across the face, Madelyn had wanted a team-up to help boost Homelander’s image, to have the world’s greatest detective and up and coming TV name staple teaming up with the world’s greatest superhero– It was the stuff of legends.

There was a maturity to Tek Knight that other supes didn’t have, the way he handled the masses was smooth, the way he poise himself and dressed was the definition of suave, he was born for the camera and it loved him, his little warming exercises even had a charm to them while Homelander still struggled to control his secret stutter… deep down he believed they wanted him to study the weaker supe, to copy him, to spend time with him and discover how to be better… he never expected to find himself drawn to him, Tek read him with ease learning how to handle him more than anybody else… he didn't use tricks to mess with him just used his gifts to learn how to speak to him, Tek hated deceith just as much as he did– quick to call bullshit even from Homelander.

He didn’t like the boy’s scout persona either… It was being able to speak freely to set the fire inside Homelander… There was this unspoken rule amongst all supes… Some clung to the belief they were too moral to fall trap to the factoid, while others just kept their mouth shut knowing the consequences would be too great if the lesser flock heard them… but here… Tek didn’t care, he had no desire to care.

Maybe that’s how Homelander found himself on top of him, maybe that’s why he didn’t flinch at the taste of bourbon on his lips, maybe that’s why that stupid green chip bothered him so much, he could’ve ripped it off his hand easily. Catch it mid-air as he flicked it. Turn around and ignore him for the rest of the party or simply leave.

But Tek knew he was too transfixed now watching the gold sparkle under the low light as the chip dropped back into his hand and hid under the heel of his palm.

“Heads.” Homelander said looking at the compound fracture at the base of his glass.

Robert grinned, lifting it to reveal the faceless side, Homelander groaned.

Rules were simple… 1 hour… don’t get caught… each round progressively gets more and more dangerous… they could not go where the others couldn’t see, no flying out of state or running underground, they had to stay where they could see or hear each other no matter what, or it was an instant disqualification. 

“What’s the prize this time?” Homelander began to walk towards the balcony of this venue, not wanting any of the people who caught the coin flip to pry any further– or…?”

“The usual.” He smiles as he follows him.

Close enough that he doesn’t need super senses to smell him, to feel his presence rubbing against him, hithering closer as they close glass doors behind, he can’t never fully forget the feeling, just how Tek made him feel, the way he knew how to touch him and where to touch him, how delicate his touch was for how deadly it could be, he swallowed.

Looking down and thinking of jumping into the pool several floors below, anything to maybe get away from him… feeling like a deer caught in the crosshair of a pack of wolves.

Homelander watches the heads below, minding their business knowing the party was just a couple steps behind, crossing his hands in front of him as Tek takes out his phone, leaning closer until he’s resting his entire weight against him, his thumb presses play– it didn’t matter what his screen was playing, just a decoy… for any lucky passerby to simply see two men hanging out having a laugh at some stupid video.

“Want to play for 1 hour, this time?” Tek said softly, hiding his excitement.

“Jesus, you think my time it’s worth pennies?”

“It's my party.” he laughed lightly.

“Fine. You're so gonna regret this when it’s my turn.” That was the childish glee that Tek liked so much… this softer and playful side that only he could be privileged to.

It really should’ve never happened, the mission was over and the room was covered in soot and guts, watching each other heave, sharing few words, staring at each other for too long, jumping throats before the bodies grew cold. They had no idea why… not after… only that he liked him… he liked John… he liked knowing this secret half that so few could be privy to, it was a rush to be the bearer of such secrets, to see that soft look on his face of bliss as they held each other's arms… but they could’ve never been together, even if Tek Knight’s demographic could’ve been more forgiving… nobody would allowed them to be together… so it was nothing but a fantasy– nothing but a dream within a dream.

“It’s not fun if you make it easy.”

Homelander sighs and lowered his zipper, hearing the sound of his facial muscles move as Tek looked down. 

Homelander stroke the limp member slightly, getting tutted by his friend, he groaned and stroked harder, looking at the monkeys beneath still unaware of what he was doing, low enough to make sense of what they could see, his blood pressure increase knowing how bad it would be, how bad it would fucking destroy him if they caught him stroking his cock next to a man.

Tek made the game harder, sliding his arm across Homelander’s shoulders, knowing his hand was out of frame enough that he could stroke his ear without being noticed from the party, his nails caressing his chin, he hissed wetly as his touch drew circles on his cheek leaning his head lightly into his digits– some people caught wind of them, seeing exactly nothing, just two friends laughing, something cute at most, a phone camera took a photo from behind catching all the indecency and nothing.

Homelander was so fucking hard as he heard the fan make commentary.

“No cumming, yet… you know the rules.”

“Fuck off.” Pre-cum coating his gloved fingers, he watched his cock twitch against the cold wind, wanting badly to just end it, feeling the burn building under his stomach– my turn!”

He tucked it, leaning down, hiding his face as he tried to breath himself back together, force it if he could, but he couldn’t help but laugh awkwardly, feeling the adrenaline coursing thru his veins, swallowing the intoxicating perfume, Homelander shoots a cautious look behind examining the room and the building for their next spot.

“Anywhere in the hotel grounds… we don’t leave the place…54 minutes left!” Homelander hisses.

“How many casualties allowed?”

“2 per person max.” He begrudgingly said– can’t make a scene… too many big names… journalist… photographers… we make it look like accidents.” Homelander looks him straight into his soul– already got Stan Edgar breathing down my neck.”

It hurt him to deny himself, but Robert didn’t argue, just massaging his neck to help him cool down.

Both men smiled at each other.

Counting every tick.

The game began.

It was a maze to navigate, to find blind spots, to discover empty halls and ignored crevices and staircases, Homelander and Tek Knight chasing each other from a distance, giggling like naughty school girls the closer and closer they got to being caught, watching their displays of debouchery with amusement as they grow increasingly more horny and frustrated, they couldn’t cum until the last set or until one gave up, edging until it was unbearable.

Homelander rubbed his aching hardened member against the pillow of some stranger’s suite who had foolishly left the balcony open... Robert listened to his meandering waltzing around the room, sniffing some girls lace underwear while frothing his cock, being just a pitch louder than he should for the other man’s pleasure before he had settled on the bed and now Robert could feel his own cock about to break, his balls heavy and swollen and the pre-cum stain dampening his suit as it twitched around his hand.

Homelander loudly suckled on his fingers, wetting them until they were covered in a thick layer of drool.

Letting out the most obscene moan as he slapped his own ass, earning a dirty glance from the soon to be loser-- Tek had broken into the suite below drinking in their minibar just hearing the action with eyes closed as he stained the bed with pre-mix… as he tried to calm his cock and definitely to avoid coming from the sounds of Homelander fingering his pussy, choking as the wet squelching sounds grew furiously louder.

“That couple just finished having dinner downstairs… you might want to hurry up… should be here in a couple minutes tops.” He mumbled trying to calm down as Homelander moaned louder calling his name inside desperate whispers– fuck…”

He pressed the right spots, twisting his back as he sped up his rutting, feeling sweat drops down his nose as he got closer and closer to cumming, as his fingers dug deeper enough to bring that pleasurable pressure, gasping as the pain had started to become so unbearable.

“Quit.”

“No!” He stopped throwing the pillow against the wall, turning on his back, breathing heavily.

“John… Come meet me in the bathrooms… now.”

“You giving up?”

“No.”

“Then I am getting a cold shower.”

“John if you don’t come meet me in the bathrooms I’ll go find somebody else to join me.”

He didn’t like that tone… he used it so much on Robert it was no surprise the actor had learned it worked both ways, Homelander sat on the bed, putting his suit on after dousing his groin with cold water, glad the padding hid his half-mast. 

Flying out the balcony and hopping back to their party searching for him amongst the crowd of drunks.

Maeve caught him coming back, caught the fluster in his step and the flush on his cheek under the coloured light.

Biting her lips, knowing what was happening… she should’ve known that when these two knuckleheads got together they would either try to out-bitch each other or play their stupid dirty game… 

She used to wonder if he would make her less miserable if he had been able to be with Robert, if his anger and obsession wasn’t fueled by projection… Neither man could’ve ever been together, and he had taken it out on her, obsessing on the only woman in his eyes (supposedly). 

Maeve knew just how hungry they were… touch starved… letting their hands touch just never for too long just constant light brushes… just bumping shoulders here and there for a second too long… Maeve at least found joy in seeing him suffer even if it was returned to her x10 worse.

She took a glass, a canape and followed him discreetly.

He entered the empty bathroom, tapping on each cubicle as if he was a mere human finding nothing until the last stall.

Sitting on the disabled toilet with his ankle over his knee and two glasses of champagne.

“So romantic.”

Placing the glasses on his sides, he dug into his breast pocket to pull out a flower head, extending his fingers towards him– slightly wilted and small, a once vibrant rose bud… but just as fragrant as the rest.

Showing up at his penthouse always carrying roses, making him know what those pretty women in the movies felt when their hands were filled with a bouquet… Homelander had gotten plenty in his life… given many as well… so the magic should've died out... yet here he was a twenty-two year old sheltered boy swallowing nervously as his cheeks heat up in front of the boy he liked. 

Jittery and bashful from a single rose… just small enough he could hide it in his jacket… no matter where they would go… if he could get away with it… if he knew he could… Robert would make his heart flutter.

He picked him by the collar, scrunching the fine fabric of his suit before risking it all on his lips, Tek Knight took a second to react, entertaining his hands as they leap towards the exposed flesh of his neck, digging into his scalp as their tongues twist.

Slamming themselves on the wall letting the unlocked door rock back and forth, Homelander's lips plump as he suckles and licks every ridge, alcohol and peppermint pungent on his tongue, wanting to savor him, wanting to swallow every drop of drool of Robert’s tongue, wanting so desperately to fill this anguish. 

Kissing him was the cure to a million ailments, it filled him with just as much happiness as it made him die… it was agonizing knowing how much his body wanted Tek… how much it missed him, his breath could’ve been sulfur and he would would’ve choke on it gladly… just agony… if he could be that foolish young man again to try to change time... Homelander still wouldn’t hesitate jumping back into this car wreck, he would hurt himself on this soft silky lips over and over again.

Tek pressed his knee in-between his tights, dropping his hands over his arms, ripping the gloves with force until his naked hands rubbed against each other, his left fingers latch on the zipper pulling it to feel more skin, wanting to feel the buttery feeling of Homelander’s being.

Homelander returned the favor, skillfully opening his shirt, knowing he couldn’t just rip it off– that had been hard to explain before. 

Feeling every hurried heartbeat against his hand, feeling every inch of hardened muscle on his smooth chest.

“Want to call it quits, John?” He sussurated into his neck, suckling on the crumbs of heat he could get– come on, sugar. I want you so fucking bad… I want to die inside you…” tracing his chin the tip of his tongue, Homelandeer shuddered whining as the pain in his pants grew unbearable once more, crying into his hand as Tek Knight licked his ear– I want you to fuck me so fucking hard I’ll need crutches.” 

“Robert!” he hissed, pulling his head wanting to kiss him more, quick pecks laughing quietly into him, panting constellations into his neck– give up and I’ll make you feel like fucking Madonna.”

He parted, taking a pair of steps back stopped by the toilet’s edge, close to coming undone.

“Lower your pants. Game hasn’t ended.”

He undoes his belt letting it flop on his sides, teasing him as he takes his sweet time lowering his zipper… he’s hard, twitching in the warm air. Homelander doesn’t copy him turning towards the exit, brushing close enough to tease the man, hands quickly grab him by the hip pressing himself against him, rubbing his length on America.

“I want to make this more fun, you pervert.”

He pushes the door, leaving him behind, stopping by the basin, a wide grin on his face.

“Fuck that stupid fucking glass. You and your weird hole kink… You know Knight… I find your thing funny so amuse me…why else bring those here– You know I don’t drink.”

“To celebrate my victory of course.”

It had been a gradual thing, to witness his fixation evolve, that naivety inside Homelander had wilted into bitterness and seeing Tek’s humiliating exploits almost comforted him… that he broke without him.

They would never be more than a rendezvou, they clung to each other wanting to make every second longer than before, parted by the wild current they still swummed against it, hoping to meet in the middle, content to just brush their fingertips.

Over the years as time settled on them while their hearts remained inmature, Homelander had noticed this unusual proclivity, it began as simple fascination, pensive stares, fingers caught drawing circles repeatedly, burning his finger as it follows the edge over and over… watching him fuck a tree engrossed him, cackling as he got worse and worse, he had been so good that he can’t find pleasure in people anymore– he thought.

Wishing it was him.

Homelander cocked his head watching the man spill on the floor, bucking his hips, hissing and gasping as the bubbly fizzles around his sensitive head and his hole, tickled by the fizz in a way a tongue could never, it was growing warm and sticky, as he pushed the expensive drink with his girth, the cold made him shudder now the smooth wet glass licked his cock back.

Homelander leaned down whistling to catch his attention.

Robert stops abruptly– Homelander bare it all. 

It was hard to believe there was a time where he was shy and nervous, where he had to teach him what to do, where he was too afraid to bend over for him, now he purred as his fingers teased his entrance, pushing in, stretching himself just a tad– Robert mouth watered, wanting to bury his face in there, the glass no longer as appealing.

With his belt dragging on his ankles, he quickly found himself on his knees.

Homelander gasped– guess he wasn’t the only one allowed to play dirty, he thought. One hand firmly using a glass fleshlight and the other spreading his cheek, Tek squeezed and slapped as his tongue drew circles, as it reached deeper, slobbering into his chin… the taste strong and salty.

Homelander had to hold the base of his cock, leaking pre-cum into the polished floors.

“This is the women’s bathroom.”

Both men flinched, eyes and muscles ready to neutralize the threat yet all Tek Knight could muster was a shrug before returning back to his meal.

Homelander twisted his back, careless fingers vaguely attempting to push him away, stifling a laugh as he stares back at Maeve, she looks at the exit knowing there’s a passerby in the hall cursing at the out of service sign.

“Please tell me you haven’t killed anybody tonight.”

Homelander shook his head biting his lip as Tek sped up his tongue, lowering it until he was suckling on the sensitive perineum, biting it, and kissing it, not stopping as he stared at Maeve briefly, not hiding his annoyance.

Back then she was the one next to him in the magazines… always running after her… she was the one that was the most special, she was the one that understood him the best, who suited him best… horseshit, he told himself.

“Only 1 person, my bad.” Tek Knight kisses his ass standing up, pulling his pants with one hand and carrying the glass with the other– I quit.” He grumbled.

Coming into the champagne glass, looking at his load as it mixed with some bubbly before leaving it on the sink.

He took to the basin after taking a handful of paper towels, washing his hands without care while soaking the towels.

“Hey…” Homelander took his shoulder.

“What?”

“You can’t just quit!?”

“I can’t stand her.” His smile is still so charming as he speaks, looking down as the washes off the sticky champagne stains off his groin– go! be a tattle-tell if you like Maeve… nobody its gonna fucking believe you.”

“Don’t be like that… Maeve isn’t going to do such thing… right, Maeve?”

“Don’t care. You can have him now if you want, Ms. Cockblocker.”

Before Meave could answer back, she was met with an accusatory finger on her face, Tek zipped his pants after doing half the job, just clean enough that he could survive whatever was left ot the afterparty but Homelander wouldn’t let him leave, his hand pulling on his elbow keeping him firmly in his presence.

“Ignore her… we always did love an audience.” He turned to Maeve– you stay right there and keep watch, understand?” He growled, eyes flickering red towards her direction.

“What do you want anyways?” He said still miffed but relaxing around Homelander’s grip.

“Just making sure you two weren’t going to be covered in blood… dunno if you know this Knight but there’s a lot going on right now.”

“Yeah right. You just wanted to ruin my fun… like you always do.”

“You think I want your se–

“Both of you shut up! Maeve learn to mind your own business and you don’t antagonize her… she’s here because she wants to watch that’s why! She has what three bottles in her already!”

“Two and a half… fuck you drink a lot of merlot.” He seemed disgusted at the choice– please tell me you had the moscato, it was simply refreshing!” 

“I don’t like moscato.” she chuckles– and am not drunk, I'm tipsy.” she laughs with a sleepy smile.

“You’re just another pervert who wants to see his ex get fucked in the ass by his other ex... so be quiet and enjoy the show."

She tried to wipe that shit eating grin on her face.

“Forget about her and just think of me… I want you… I won… so my price is you sucking me off…” He took his face stroking his neck, forcing him to look directly at him– Robert…”

“You didn’t win. I quit. That means the price is null…” both looked so needy, Robert's darkened eyes almost pleading him to make him stay where his lips couldn't.– suck me off first… please, baby… I’m upset.”

“No, you sore loser…”

“You’re so cruel.” He moped.

Homelander rolled his eyes taking the glass before skulking the contents, Robert got hard immediately, watching Homelander lick the rim clean before forcing him into a salty sweet kiss.

Cum frothing from the friction. 

They danced their way back into the cubicle, grinning as the toilet lid squeaked under his weight, Homelander threw his boots and his tights off with enviable effortlessness giving Mr. Vernon plenty to take a hold off, he squeezed his thin legs, savoring the velvety texture, his cock hard and leaking, Tek took it giving it a few pumps, licking his taste off lips with anticipation, his mind solely focused on John, Maeve ceased to exist even if the stench of merlot didn’t, he only wanted this.

“Thanks baby.”

“Only because you’re cute, John.”

Throwing his head back as the other man took his manhood, slurping and swallowing, each stroke followed by his mouth, Homelander placing his hand firmly on his neck pushing him further, he could feel him chuckle against his length. 

Homelander came hard and embarassingly quick, whimpering as he buckled his hips.

But Robert was glad regardless.

Tek didn’t stop moving his lips, wanting him to grind his teeth some more, he let it out with a wet pop, gasping with a satisfied smile, kissing his legs and thighs wishing to leave hickeys and burns.

“You swallowed.” He sounded so disappointed it touched the other’s heartstrings with guilt.

“My turn.”

Tek pushed him back, standing up weakly, leaning to his side to take the second glass of champagne he had left on the floor before.

“Lick it.”

Homelander obliged, licking the edge creasing his nose as the fizz got on his nostrils.

Maeve grimace was short lived, Homelander hand tugged on that pesky belt, pulling him out once more, stroking him roughly, as his tongue parted his lover’s needless toy.

Maeve sat not minding if her skirt got damp, biting her lips as she saw the blonde get on his knees.

Transfixed as she watched his head bobbed, clenching her legs as the man sung loudly, they spoke with only looks, whispering to each other, Robert encouraging him, to look past the flavor, Homelander groaned, displeased but he would cooed him, coaxed him to keep going, coaxing gently to take it deeper, playing with his hair as the man flat tongue made him see the runnign waters of the river styx, rutting his hips into his throat as he saw death welcoming him.

Maeve hand stroked her clit, taking short breath as she tried to not make a sound, her pussy soaking her fingers as she traveled a little further, wanting to fill herself with anything but not wanting to make a show for the bastards either.

Maeve had to look away, she had peeked into something forbidden. It seems for Homelander had leaped into his mouth, kissing him, burning him, Tek was seeing stars, the mixture of salt and french sweetness coating his tongue.

Craning his back as the other man’s weight pulled him down– he saw his John from all those years ago, how nervous his hand was, cupping his cheek, searching for cues to deepen their kiss, to know Robert had wanted him just as much as he had.

He always had.

Fame, fortune and the admiration of many didn’t compare to being Homelander’s.

He wished he hadn’t been greedy.

He wished he had been happy to just be the mistress.

He wished he hadn’t been the clever one that turned to that once naive boy and told him that it could never be.

He had to cut him out of him like he was cancer.

No matter how much he wanted him, no matter how much it hurt to see him running after that redhead.

He looked up to catch her, smelling her arousal and regret.

“Come to my loft… John… just for tonite…” he susurrated– I want to be yours…”

Homelander smiled, half lid eyes and bruised lips gave him a soft yes.

Maeve ran out the bathroom wanting to find something to wash away the confused feeling in her stomach, thinking of that cute publicist that had been eyeing her all night.

Robert’s ear followed her heels, as John kissed him while fixing himself doing just enough of a good job that cameras wouldn’t notice how disheveled he was, he had done a good job considering he hadn’t stopped kissing his lover for most of the ordeal.

“I’ll be a good boy and get the bath ready for when you get home, Tek.”

“I’ll get the condoms on my way home then.”

“Why? We are gonna run out of them anyhoo” he growled into him, licking Tek's lower lip, gnawing on him until a scarlet drop fell on his tongue– see ya in a jiffy, Robert.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“I’ll go first.”

Homelander rolled his eyes, kissing him goodbye for the time being.

Ignoring the crowds as they both left to attend more pressing matters.

Glad to meet again as if they were just those hopeful stupid kids yet again.

[fcdcdmcmories]

"NO! THAT'S WHERE YOU'RE WRONG! WHAT I THINK IS BASED ON MY OPINION. ON WHAT I KNOW ABOUT HIM. THE MAN WHO TRIED TO STEAL YOU FROM ME. THE MAN WHO STUCK US BOTH IN A ROOM AND TOLD US TO EITHER KILL EACH OTHER OR DIE. YOU MAY BE WILLING TO FORGET THAT? BUT I'M NOT AND SHE UNDERSTANDS THAT. HOW I'M FEELING." yes, it seemed as if she was so damn mad over lynn and yet, she did not see that what was the difference. lynn was not a bad person. kramer? the one whose side she seemed to keep wanting to take over his? he was. he was a monster and he hated him. "it was a mistake. we were drinking and she got confused and moved in and i only had time to push her away before she actually kissed me," he scoffed, shaking his head. was this truly what she thought of him? after so damn long? after he hadn't even looked at another woman during the many, many years that they had been together? "yes. maybe she would have. she certainly made clear that was what she wanted. BUT YOU KNOW WHY THAT'D NEVER HAPPEN? BECAUSE I WOULDN'T LET IT! that's the difference between us, isn't it?" he looked away, not being able to meet her eyes at that. he couldn't lie, but .. he also .. could not tell the truth. "it's nothing you need to worry about. we're handling it." he and edgar and betty and matt -- soon enough, he'd get will on board and they could actually make this happen. actually keep her safe. right? couldn't they? they had to. he watched her drinking and set his eyes on the floor, only thinking about the fact that he could not tell her the truth. he couldn't. she couldn't even know. it'd break her. "NO, I WON'T BE. HE HAD FIVE WHOLE DAYS TO KILL ME. HE DIDN'T THEN AND HE WON'T NOW. YOU DON'T FUCKING SEE IT! I'M NOT THE ONE THAT HE-" he shut himself up right away, shaking his head. fuck, fuck, fuck. he had already said too much and he had been about to say the rest and.. goddamn it. had he wondered why pederson hadn't killed him? yes. yes, he had, but .. then, it had hit him. he wanted him alive so he had something to hold over her and so.. so he could be there to watch when he finally did what he so wanted to do. THAT WAS NOT HAPPENING. EVER. "no way. you're staying right here. where it's safe. edgar and the others will make sure of it and .. SHE AND I ARE GOING TO GET THE KID. SOON." it was decided already in his head and lynn had said that she knew the way in and.. if donna died in the process? oh, well. what a shame. "ARE YOU.. ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO YOURSELF RIGHT NOW? YOU SOUND JUST LIKE HIM! CAN'T KILL SOMEONE? THROW MONEY AT THE PROBLEM AND MAKE IT GO AWAY? is that it? all because she made a mistake? if you do this? you're proving that i was wrong all these years. every single time that i defended you to the people who thought you were just like him. the joke's on me, huh?"

@xtinyslip

"I'M NOT TELLING YOU NOT TO TRUST PEOPLE. I'M… I'M FUCKING ASKING YOU TO NOT TRUST SO EASILY? WHAT YOU THINK IS BASED ON HER BIASED OPINION, THAT'S WHY!" parker hadn't had the chance to come to his own conclusion about this because someone else was breathing their own down this throat. yes, there was the highest possibility that his opinion would have been the same regardless but at least it would have been his own. she could accept that. this wasn't right and she didn't care how much she pissed him off by saying it ; she would say it all the same. "you were aware of this all along and you still have the nerve to stand in front of me and defend her OVER me?" what the actual fuck? "and i presume if you had not pushed her away she would have continued to make her advances and fuck you in this bed?" it wasn't alright and sure, perhaps she was a fine one to talk but it had been a mistake and for gods sake ; she had showed just how fucking sorry she was for ever doing that to them. "drinking is only going to worsen your condition." even a terrible doctor knew that much? "what do you want to forget?" cecilia didn't want to push him but there was something he wasn't saying. well, it wasn't just him. was it? edgar had made excuses for days now to get out of spending any time with her, as did betty and cute little blonde friend wouldn't even look her in the eye. had her father shown him the room he punished her in? had he told him everything he'd ever done. WHAT WAS IT? cecilia used her crutch to pull the cabinet closer to her, that way she didn't have to put as much pressure on her knee but could still take the bottle and have a large sip of it herself. him using that as a way to hit her where it hurt had surprised her, she hated that she hadn't even been able to hide that his low blow had gotten to her. the shock on her expression only lasted seconds, in which afterwards she took another big sip of his whiskey before responding. "hm, nicely done." and no, it was clear that wasn't a compliment but what could she even say back to it? "yes." falling quiet on him after he'd decided to use the fucking FRIEND card back in her face when it wasn't the same at all. it was fairly impossible to not notice the panic that taken over him, it even made her step back. "that will be no use in getting the boy back, my father wants us to come for him ; you will be taken and he will kill you. at least, i..." did she think her father wanted her dead? she wanted to say yes but the truth was no, she didn't think he would do that. "you go? i go." and his new friend definitely went ; willingly or cecilia would send her off in a coffin. this woman was going to help him do this? WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK? had they lost their minds? "if i was acting like my father right now, i would have already demanded she be dragged in here so i could kill her in front of you... to then proceed in telling you that it was all your fault that she was dead. hm? well, i assure you that it's not your fault, p and if you are worried for her? she can leave with a hefty donation from whatever i have remaining in my account but she doesn't stay. she doesn't stay after doing this." @fcdcdmcmories

[fireheartpages]

iii. the hatred of a minute | m.m.

matt murdock x reader

series masterlist

summary: long nights begin being crowded by things you don't want to see materialize, after your legal battle runs its course. the question stands: can you fight your way out of this one? or will you finally fall?

word count: 3.6k

rating: 18+, swf, canon typical violence with a slight trigger warning for assault/SA (latter only mentioned in a medical sense), slight she-hulk spoilers. second person pov, afab reader with she/her pronouns

a/n: this quote comes from an edgar allen poe passage, "years of love have been forgot, in the hatred of a minute." hello all! i know it's been like nine months since my last chapter and honestly i shouldn't promise any more consistent updates lmfao. i've moved twice (once cross country) since my past chapter and i'm moving out of state again in like two weeks. so life has been unreasonably crazy lately, but i watched she-hulk and when she said the accords were revoked i was like are you fr rn bc so much of this fic's plot was in fact based around the accords but also i hadn't been writing bc i didn't know what i wanted to so with it so honestly that little tweak in canon made me wanna overhaul the plot and start writing again so here i am!! this is still the bare bones of where i had planned on going with the series but with some changes so that i'll actually be invested in writing it lol and i hope y'all will be invested in reading it!! also shout out to the three people in my notes who reblogged the first two chapters like two days ago that finally made me start writing, yall are awesome. this is for u. (and she-hulk) (oh yeah also matt in she-hulk!! sexy af)

March 2024

Matt could smell your hangover.

Every inch of you was drenched in sweat and vodka and sick. You stumbled into the office of Nelson, Murdock, and Page a little after eleven, half reeling, and rendering Matt more than a little concerned. Foggy met you as you made it in the door, helping you to the small couch next to his desk.

“What the hell happened to you?” Foggy asked, tossing Matt a water bottle to hand to you.

“Have you seen, like, literally any public media source?”

Matt hummed, leaning against the desk across from you. “I did. Imagined you’d take it about this well, too.”

“Thought you couldn’t see, Murdock.”

Matt chuckled. “Good to know your humor’s still in tact.” He unscrewed the bottle an handed it to you. You took it, taking a long sip, then pressing your head to the back of the couch.

“How does, like, the law work?” you asked. “Can I sue? I wanna sue, or something. Get that asshole to put his shield down.”

Foggy laughed sympathetically, walking around to take a seat. He’d told Matt you would be coming in today only about an hour ago, detailing the phone call he’d had with Bucky Barnes. Apparently he’d fished around your purse until he found Foggy’s business card and called, asking if you could come in. Neither of them knew what the topic of your visit was, but after last night’s news spectacle, it wasn’t hard to guess. 

“That’s not how the law works, unfortunately,” Matt answered you. “Also, we’re defense lawyers.”

“Okay, and?”

“We don’t sue people.”

“We protect the people getting sued,” Foggy supplied.

“Assholes,” you mumbled, eyes sliding shut.

“So, what, did you raid a liquor store last night?” he asked, voice dancing with the odd mix of sympathy and humor.

“Tried to outdrink Bucky.”

“How well did that go?”

“Can’t remember a single thing after four p.m., but at least my hangover hurts worse than the news blasts I keep getting on my phone do.”

“You can turn those off, you know,” supplied Foggy helpfully.

“Fuck off, Nelson.” Matt laughed, suddenly acutely aware of the rip in your jeans where your skin poked through unhindered. You were crowding his senses for some reason. He pushed off the desk, walking around just to give himself something to do. He noted what was happening outside the window. Someone was walking a dog, a couple was arguing, a few honks from taxi drivers, the smell of you underneath all the liquor—

Knock it off, he thought. 

He paced back around to the opposite side of the desk, balancing himself on the edge. Your voice coated his thoughts as he tried to focus on what you and Foggy were saying. 

Foggy was explaining something about the legality of the Accords to you that Matt was struggling to catch on to. You swore at whatever he said. Matt let the conversation float over him as his senses crept out to the warmth of your skin and the softness of your voice and whatever shampoo you used that made you smell so good. He dug his nails into the wood of the desk below him, something solid to keep him from drifting into whatever made him like you so much. He knew he couldn’t, knew he shouldn’t, after the alarms went off in his mind the last time he walked you home and you’d leaned into his touch just a little too much. That bit of intimacy you’d offered him, the trust you were putting in him was misguided, unearned, and dangerous. Not with who he was. Not with who you were. 

So he denied himself, as any good Catholic would. 

He was brought back into reality when Foggy directed something at him. 

“What?” he stuttered, willing his brain to come up with something a little bit better. 

“Still with us?” Foggy laughed. 

You remarked, “I thought I was the one who was wrecked,” and he clenched his jaw. 

“My mind wandered.” He took a slow, deep breath. 

He couldn’t ignore the soft laugh you gave, or the way your pulse picked up with awareness under his focus. He could tell Foggy knew he was full of shit. "What did you say?"

"Do you think you could handle a neighborly visit?" Foggy asked.

Matt had no idea what he was talking about.

Thankfully, Foggy saved him the embarrassment of having to ask. "I'm going to do the best I can to figure out how to get around this once Bucky Barnes gets in contact with Sam Wilson. I think you should pay a visit to Mr. Walker."

Matt huffed and shifted from foot to foot. "Um, why?"

"Trying to prevent a murder," he answered dryly, then pointed a finger at you. "You are not to make contact with Walker. At all. I don't care. Relay that message to Bucky as well."

You sighed and rolled your eyes, letting your head lull back onto the couch. Your hair fell away from your neck, exposing more of your skin to the air. No more deep breaths.

"I think it can be arranged," Matt said.

He felt you tense, like you were making to get up, but you didn't move. Matt rounded the desk again, offering his arm to you. "Let's get you home."

You took it, letting him half-haul you up off the couch and into a standing position. Your skin was so soft. "Coffee?" he asked.

"You buying?"

He smirked at you, then turned his attention to Foggy. "Send any updated you find?'

Matt could tell Foggy was giving him a look that he was hoping you weren't picking up on, powers or not. You let yourself be escorted out the door, down the stairs, and out of the building, the entire time not letting go of Matt's arm.

New York liked to pretend to have spring. There was snow on the ground, and the temperature was barely breaking 65, in a way that let non-locals believe there might be some warmer weather up ahead. He knew better, though. He knew New York would stay icy for a long while longer.

He walked along the streets covered with melting snow, dodging tourists and kids checking out colleges on spring break. No one paid him a second thought. People were too busy thinking about themselves. Everyone is always only ever thinking about themselves.

Even when there was so much hurt in the world. So much that needed to be fixed and yet everyone chooses to think only about themselves. Everyone chooses to ignore the help they could give others and instead make it about them. So selfish, he thought. But he wasn't selfish. He thought about other people. He thought about the betterment of other people. Of a community.

That's why it took him so long to pick the perfect person. He didn't want to call her a victim. A pretty blonde in a pinstripe suit. She had just hung up the phone. Perfect, he thought. She wasn't a victim, no. Even as she thrashed and kicked as he came down hard with a hand over her mouth and dragged her into the alleyway just to his right. She wasn't a victim, she was the beginning to the betterment of a community. Of the world.

He pushed the needle into her skin, letting the dosage sink into the muscle of her arm. He'd had to tear her pretty blazer. He was sure she'd be fine with it if she knew. If she knew she was the beginning to a better community.

She lost her fight as the dose made its way through her system, slowly slumping in his arms as he lowered her to the ground, and he left her there to wake up later, making his way back into the sidewalk as if nothing had happened.

"Are you sure they're going to let you in in your condition?"

You laughed, still clinging to Matt's arm as you both made your way to the hospital. He'd insisted on ensuring you made it there safely, despite your protests. It's either this or the rooftops, he's said. He'd bought you coffee. You figured you could start your shift off on the right foot.

"They don't care what state I'm in as long as I can change a bedpan and start and IV," you remarked.

Mat laughed, and you liked the sound. "Let me know if you ever want to unionize."

"We're med students, Matt, I'm not even a real employee."

"That... sounds like it should break some labor laws."

You screwed up your face. "Gotta learn somehow. There could be worse ways. Than legalized slavery."

"Oh no," Matt said around another one of those pretty laughs. God. Go back to when you hated him, you thought. It was so much easier than thinking he was beautiful. And God, was he.

"I'll be fine," you stated, trying (and failing) to stop staring at him in the glistening springtime air. "Couple more cups of coffee and I'll be human-shaped again. Or, med student-shaped. How about you go out there and make sure we don't get any stabbings or GSWs? I want a quiet night."

"I'll try my best," he said, releasing your arm so he could slide his hand up and down it. What a gentleman, warming you up. So polite.

You stood there in silence, trying to come up with something to say maybe to extend the moment, or maybe a dig to make it not as incredibly obvious as it felt that you really enjoyed his company. Before you got the chance, a scrub-clad energy ball launched at you.

"You gotta come in here, we got a chick with some weird-ass symptoms, right up your alley. Come do your funky thing." He shivered. "God, it is freezing out here."

"Derek, no, that's not how this works and you know it." You sighed, closing your eyes, and digging your phone, which had begun ringing, out of your coat pocket.

"It is now," Derek said, smiling like he was sharing an inside joke with you. His smile faltered when he realized you were entirely lost. "You didn't see? I thought you would be jumpin' for joy."

"See what, Perez?" you asked, funneling every inch of exasperation into the question.

"The Accords got revoked. You get to be super doc."

"What?" you and Matt snapped in unison.

You looked down at your phone to see Foggy calling and thrust the phone up to your ear.

"Is it true?" you demanded at the same time Foggy said, "I have the best news ever!"

You heard him laugh on the other end of the line. "No more collar or leash for you, baby! The Accords were just revoked for American citizens!"

"Is he serious?" Matt asked you in a low voice.

You felt like you were going to pass out.

"I knew this had been in the works in congress but I didn't want to get my hopes up, but it's happening, baby!" Foggy was going on.

"What?" you snapped.

"Effective immediately, you are no longer required to sign the Accords. No leash, no monitoring. Go have fun."

"I would definitely still check with your higher-ups before using your abilities at work," Matt supplied.

"Is that Matt? Matt, you asshole, I've been calling you for like 10 minutes!"

"Dude," Derek said, "you've gotta come see this girl."

You were frozen in place, frozen with shock until you felt Matt's hand come to rest on the small of your back. You took a shuddering breath. "So, I'm free?"

"You're free," Foggy said gently.

You hung up the phone without saying goodbye, and turned to Matt. "I should get in there." Patients first, feelings later.

"Have a good evening," Matt said, his hand falling from your back. "Text me when you get home.

You knew damn well he would know when you got home without you texting him. But you didn't say anything. Instead, you turned back to Derek as he walked away and you forced yourself not to let your gaze follow him.

"Do I have time to get scrubs?"

"This chick is wild, okay," Derek began, ignoring your question. "I'd just gotten in when she came in. Flu-like symptoms, so the docs put her on me, right? Turns out, she was assaulted walking to work. All shaken up. I went to go get the kit, but she kept refusing, thought she'd probably feel safer with a female doc. So I offered up one of the interns, but she refused again. Said she was conscious for the entire attack, and all that happened was this guy stuck a needle in her arm and left her on the ground." He kept talking as you rounded the corner into the locker room. "Scumbag, right? I wasn't sure I believed her, but she let me do a physical exam and the only signs of struggle were on her face and neck. And her arm, where the needle went in. So she's telling the truth. And here's the catch. Tox screen is nuts."

You shrugged on your white coat. "How so?"

"Lit up like a Christmas tree," Derek said, shaking his head. "Amphetamine, opiates, benzos, tylenol, you name it."

You raised your brow at him. "Wow."

"And get this, she's bleeding from every line we give her. I tried to put in an IV, blew the vein."

"You're bad at IV's."

"Not that bad," he said indignantly. "But even Mar tried, and the line started bleeding. Mar! Best nurse in this place botched an IV. Doc Cohen tried to put in a central line, more bleeding. Her pressure was skyrocketing every time we tried too."

"That would sense," you said following him further into the ER. "Eight million drugs in someone's system ought to thin the blood."

"Yeah but we get at least a central line on druggies. Besides, she doesn't have any past drug use history. Her lines are clean, man." He led you to a private room towards the back of the ER. You pushed open the door with a sigh.

There was a young girl on the bed, two bloody bandages around her arms and a bandage across her chest. She was pretty, twenty-something with her blonde hair falling out of a ponytail at the back of her head. There was what looked like a designer bag and pinstripe pants discarded in the corner, the matching jacket in an evidence bag.

"Hannah Edwards, this is one of my colleagues, she's gonna do a much better job of figuring this out than we are," Derek supplied as you walked farther into the room.

You introduced yourself with as much smile as you could muster, sitting down next to the bed. "Don't sell her lies, Dr. Perez, please. How are you feeling?"

"Like a human pin cushion with a nasty flu," Hannah said with a weak smile.

"Can you tell me when you started getting the flu symptoms?" you asked.

"Like, fifteen minutes after the guy got me. I laid on the floor, not able to move for like ten minutes. When I got up, I started to go home, but I got, like, super dizzy and feverish five minutes later, so I came here instead."

"You were paralyzed?" you asked.

"I guess?" Hannah shrugged. "I got really groggy for a while and then when I tried to move, everything felt super heavy. It took me, like, ten minutes, like I said, to get up and move. Then I felt all dizzy and came here."

"Good thing," you said. You let your ability reach out ever so slightly, creeping out to touch whatever weird sickness surrounded her.

You jumped back.

"What, what is it?" Hannah asked.

"Dr. Perez, could I see that tox screen please?"

Derek handed you the paper. "Told you, there's almost so much on there that it's unusable."

"She shouldn't be upright with all of this in her system. Have you had any vomiting, Hannah?" You read the tox report again and again, begging the number to make sense but--Hannah Edwards should be dead right now if this were true.

"Just a little nausea," Hannah answered.

"Temp's been bouncing between 100 and 102," Derek said from behind you. "That's the third tox I ran. Same result every time."

You stood up, turning to meet his eye. "Let's get this shit out of her system, please."

You walked out of the room, almost slamming face-first into your resident as the door shut behind you.

"Did you do your thing?" Dr. Cohen asked.

"I, uh--"

"She started to, but something weird happened, huh?" Derek supplied. He'd seen you break the rules with your mutation once or twice or enough to tell when you did.

"It was weird. Like her sick pushed against me. She has so much in her system she should be dead or close to it, but there's something to keep her standing," you told them.

"Which is?" Cohen asked.

"I... don't know."

"Okay, so go find out." Cohen flashed her brown eyes between you and Hannah.

You sighed and shook your head before shutting your eyes and willing the hustle and bustle of the ER to go quiet for just a moment. You let your ability reach out once again, tendrils of invisible power creeping toward Hannah in her bed. You let it lace through every drug in her system, finding familiar things like acetaminophen and penicillin, the odd things like an antidepressant, and the less familiar things you were assuming were things like cocaine and meth, until you found... nothing.

"There's nothing there."

Derek and Cohen stared at you.

"What?" Derek asked.

"All that must be a front. She just has the flu." You looked between the puzzled expression the two shared.

"A flu that came on in less than fifteen minutes," Cohen supplied.

"I'm not saying that's all it is, or all that's gonna develop." You shoved the chart back into Derek's hands. "You should admit her for observation. I need a cup of coffee."

Your phone rang again hours later and as it flashed on the table of the breakroom, you found yourself hesitant to answer.

"Hi, Matt," you said as you brought the phone up to your ear.

"Good evening," he said, his voice silky and husky and you wanted to hang up.

"Hi."

"Are you walking home tonight?"

"Alone," you said. Not the smartest idea, all things considered, but you knew when someone was going to sneak up on you. You were an Avenger for fuck's sake. You could walk home alone tonight.

His voice dropped imperceptibly lower. "What happened?"

"Nothing," you said, carefully keeping emotion out of your voice. "Busy night. And, plus, I don't really need a lawyer anymore, since the Accords were revoked. So."

Matt laughed dryly, and you felt like you could imagine his face on the other end of the phone. He sighed. "You know I can hear your heartbeat through the phone, right?"

"You're so full of shit."

"You're lying to me. Why are you blowing me off?"

"Cause I'm a big girl, Murdock!" You dragged a hand over your face. Attachment was not your style, even Steve knew that, but this guy was making that very difficult. "I don't need you trying to sneak into my bed every night."

"You have got to stop with the lying, it's getting you nowhere with me."

You screwed up your face. "Goodbye, Matt." And you hung up the phone.

Matt was not having a good night. 

He went out on patrol like he did most nights. Like you told him to that night. That was where he'd called you from, a rooftop in Hell's kitchen. Maybe he did go seeking out trouble. Getting into fights he didn't need to be in. He wasn't unaccustomed to getting his ass kicked. No one knew more than Matt Murdock what pavement tasted like. What differed tonight from most nights, though, was the level at which he got his ass kicked. 

Whatever he was stuck with, it knocked him on his ass for a good ten minutes. Groggy and disorienting, like every cell was magnetized to the floor. His throat hurt, probably a symptom of being out in the cold all night. Even Daredevil wasn't immune to the common cold. He hauled himself off the floor with great effort, shocked his assailant left him there, and a little upset with himself he let the guy get away.

He was beaten and bruised and thoroughly feverish as he sat on the subway to Brooklyn.

He didn't want to show up on your doorstep. And you'd made it very clear you didn't want anything to do with him. But he was tired, and everything ached, and if anyone could fix his potentially broken rib, it would be you.

So, no, he didn't really blame you for the shock when you opened the door to your condo and found him slumped against the doorframe.

"Matt?" Your voice was high and indignant.

"I don't--" He fell forward, and you caught him taking off his mask.

"What the hell happened?" you demanded.

"Lost a fight," he managed, letting you guide him to the couch. He felt... some sort of tickle. Something that relaxed his muscles and felt soft, like how he imagined your skin felt.

"Matt, what the hell? Who did you get in a fight with?"

"I don't--" He grunted in pain, then relief as the pain in his ribs subsided.

He felt your face contort in pain, and your breath hitch.

"Don't--" he started.

"What happened?" you tried again.

His body started to feel light, so light, as if he were floating. Then he felt you slump against him, and suddenly, sleep was grabbing at his senses. He tried his hardest to resist it, tried to shake you awake, but he just ended up falling asleep, a hand snaking into your hair.

[heartxshaped-bruises]

Hi friend! Just wanted to ask, since you work with screenplays and filming - where do you get your inspiration from? And is there any materials (like actual documents, videos and such) you've benefitted from filming school that you would reccomend?

                                   ✧･ﾟ  𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃.

HEYHO NONNY !!

Thanks for the interest. I'd say that it entirely depends on what kind of movies you want to do or what stories you'd like to tell. I believe the worst thing you can do is working with resources and materials that you know you won't work for you, but people still recommend it.

Personally, I find MY INSPIRATION in music videos and music itself, most of the time. Like, two of my big movie projects originated from songs I heard that lead to characters who then inspired me to write their stories and make two shortfilms. And those characters are Benji and Joe from this blog here. My upcoming Bachelor's movie is also rooted in several songs and music videos that gave birth to the protagonist whom I used to write a while ago on here, too.

AS FOR WRITING, we get a lot of literature recommended when it comes to Screenplay Writing, but I find a lot of them kinda pretentious and they don't help me with my approach. What I still think should be a standard reference though is STORY by Robert McKee. It doesn't force the author's own opinion on the reader like others and gives you clear examples why some stories / movies work better than others based on techniques and facts, what could be the issue and how to fix it. It's less a book to read and more of a reference book, though. But I always found it very helpful.

Another thing I personally turn to has always been a book from Hirohisa Tanaka's HOW TO DRAW MANGA's series. It mainly focuses on teaching you some techniques and tricks how to develop interesting and surprising stories, or how you can "stay in creative shape". Technically, it doesn't have something to do with movies at first sight, but it works for me and it's fun. You should always consider material outside of your bubble.

WHEN IT COMES TO VIDEOS and such we actually do have our own huge digital encyclopedia of video tutorials made by the staff and students, courses, interviews and such that are only accessible for us. So I couldn't help you out with these, but as I said before -- turn to materials that benefit your story.

But I can warmly recommend one vid that my Screenplay teacher showed us and it was a simple but huge game changer for my stories: Writing Advice from Matt Stone & Trey Parker. I've never seen this put better into action than in Riot Games' ARCANE series, I would've never noticed if my teacher hadn't shown me this video.

Outside of my film school I watch A TON OF VIDEO ANALYSES of series and movies that I love so I can compare them with my own views and understand how they work. And they dont have to be exclusively from professionals and fellow filmmakers bc lbr, you just have to look at letterboxd reviews and you know we're a totally different kind of breed than your everyday movie-lover. It's also good to just watch reviews of regular people and see how their opinion differs from professionals.

Channels I personally enjoy are:

The Closer Look (Writing & Constructing Stories w/ examples from famous media)

The Vile Eye (Analyzing Evil // Villains)

Cinema Therapy (Psychological Aspects of Characters & Filmmaking)

Broey Deschanel (Analyses of popculture & politics)

schnee (In-Depth Analysis of ARCANE)

abitfrank (Overanalyzation of fairy tales, creepy stories & movies)

Hello Future Me (Reviews)

Friendly Space Ninja (Reviews & thoughts on recent series / remakes)

verilybitchie (LGBTQA+ analysis of movies, series and politics)

And generally, I ofc watch videos about the kind of filmmaking that I wanna do. So, in my case I watch a lot of videos about visual comedy in the style of Edgar Wright, how he uses Sound Design (a highly underappreciated department) and so on. And I also bother with materials covering these topics:

Morally Ambiguous Characters (I need writing-heavy resources)

Bizarre but endearing Dialogues (Watching movies that have this; researching in my book how to write conversations; watching vids on how to NOT write a dialogue)

How to do Music Videos (Watching music videos from the 90ies and early 2000s bc that's what I am going for; analyzing how music videos work, what it tells you about the song etc.)

Symbolysm & Color Dramaturgy (basically just research of the meaning behind each one, how to give the audience information, how to evoke emotions in the audience... and also watching movies where it's very clear to tell - like Crimson Peak and the like, if you're inexperienced)

That was a lot of text now, sorry about that. I'm not sure if you find any of this helpful, but I guess the general thing I can tell you is to directly look for materials and sources that speak to you and are specifically for you. The things that work for me might not work for you and vice versa.

I personally don't find any use in bothering with excercises and materials that only show me how much I don't want to incorporate them in my own work.

I hope this helps??

[bookoftheironfist]

hi! i finished reading immortal iron fist and there’s one thing i can’t wrap my head around. how old is wendell meant to be around the time he has danny? my math isn’t he best but do the events of the series not make him much older than danny’s mom? i’m relatively new to reading iron fist so i’m not sure if it’s answered somewhere else or if something went right over my head but i’m a bit lost by it all.

    Hi! That’s a great question, and I don’t really have an answer because 1. the sliding timescale applied to all modern comics for their long-running characters (Danny has been around for nearly 50 years now) means that dates are always shifting because the characters don’t age in real-time, and 2. Orson Randall’s backstory-- and thus, Wendell’s-- is imprecise, possibly by design.

    Ignoring any other context we have, this is Wendell’s backstory: He is an orphan who gets adopted by Orson when he’s maybe six or seven. He lives with Orson until his late teens, maybe even early 20s, at which point they part ways and Wendell travels to K’un-Lun. He lives in K’un-Lun for exactly ten years (we’re lucky, as Iron Fist fans, to have a clear method of measuring time baked right into the worldbuilding), and thus returns to Earth when he is in his late 20s/early 30s. He moves to New York, meets Heather, has Danny (right away, apparently-- Danny is nine years old on the return trip to K’un-Lun), and co-founds Rand-Meachum. Ten years later, in his late 30s/early 40s, he tries to get back to K’un-Lun and dies along the way. From what I can remember, we’ve never been told Heather’s age, but this timeline of events on its own doesn’t suggest any staggeringly huge age difference.

    HOWEVER, as you noticed, Immortal Iron Fist does give us dates. We know that Orson began forming the Confederates of the Curious in 1928, which seems to have been only shortly before encountering Wendell. Wendell is with the group when they visit a speakeasy in Green Mist of Death (Prohibition in the US ended in 1933). We’re told he is fifteen in this early 1900s-looking steampunky scene: 

Wendell: “No worries, boss! We gotcha covered!”

Immortal Iron Fist Annual #1 by Ed Brubaker, Matt Fraction, Jelena Kevic Djurdjevic, Edgar Delgado, et al. 

    And then by 1963, he is gone, maybe in K’un-Lun, maybe elsewhere. If we remove the idea of the sliding timescale and say that Danny was nineteen in 1974 (the year his debut issue was published, which gave us his age), this timeline kind of works: If Wendell was born in 1920 he would have been 35 in 1955, the year Danny would have been born if he was nineteen in 1974. But we do know the sliding timescale is in effect, if only because Danny is (probably...) not 67 years old right now. 

    I think there are two answers here: an in-universe one and a stylistic one. In-universe, if you accept the Immortal Iron Fist backstory (and Iron Fist is filled with backstory retcons and inconsistencies, so you honestly don’t have to), we can say that Wendell was born in the 1920s. However, we also know that due to the effects of the chi of Shou-Lao, Orson not only aged slowly himself, but he also granted the people close to him supernaturally prolonged lives. It’s possible that Wendell was a teenager for twenty, thirty years. We just don’t know. There’s also his ten years spent in K’un-Lun to consider. The citizens of K’un-Lun are immortal, and the passage of time there doesn’t match the passage of time on Earth. (ASIDE: Another point to be made from all of this is that Danny, for these same reasons, could be much older than he looks! No Iron Fist writer has ever said this, but hey, it’s a reasonable assumption! I want Danny to turn to Luke one day and say “I’ve done the math, and I’m actually 85.” Marvel, please...) But anyway, regardless of the details, we can assume that Wendell didn’t age normally, because at no point are we told that he was extremely old when Danny was born-- he has always, even in Immortal Iron Fist, been depicted as middle aged-ish. 

    The other answer, as I said, is stylistic. It’s the idea that the passage of time is not the point; what matters most is the aesthetic of the stories. The Immortal Iron Fist team very clearly modeled the adventures of Orson Randall and the Confederates of the Curious off of old pulp adventure stories of the early 1900s. Just look at what we have: Orson tangling with the Lightning Lords. The battle on the rooftops of steampunk Harlem. The scantily-clad cowgirls. The evil mad scientist. All of these flashbacks embody the feeling of a specific genre of story, and the fact that those types of stories came out of a time period that would make the characters weirdly old seems irrelevant. The style matters more than the dates.  

    So I think my best answer is: Wendell and Heather were probably around the same age when Danny was born. It just might have taken Wendell a little longer to get there.   

[simonsrosebud]

the one where someone doesn’t know who kevin day is, pt. 3

part one two four five

kevin has a talk with them the next morning before practice.  or more of just him storming into the lounge and going off.  the four freshman are there, too, but he doesn’t quite care.

“dalton isn’t fucked up like the rest of us!  there’s a reason i didn’t want any of you meeting or even knowing about him and it’s not because i hadn’t fucking come out yet.  he’s not a fox, and he’s not even thea.  he’s not involved with exy, he doesn’t know about riko and me and the moriyama’s and the rest!  there’s a lot of shit he doesn’t know about yet and none of you had the right throwing it all out in the air last night just to have a fucking laugh.  tell me, was it funny?  was it fucking funny getting him shitfaced just to get some answers and take the piss?!”

dan stands, and kevin holds a hand out.  she looks to andrew, but his silence sides him with kevin.  “kevin, we were just trying to-“

“you have no excuses, dan.  none of you do.  you were trying to make a fool of me and my boyfriend for nothing.  and now, i have to go cure his curiosity of the things you all said.”  and he storms out.

wymack doesn’t stop him.  if anything, he looks mad at those left.  “the fuck did you do to him to make him skip practice?!  you realize that’s never happened so long as he’s lived, right?!  we don’t have protocol for the day kevin skips exy.”

meanwhile, dalton doesn’t actually have that many questions.  the numbing of alcohol for a face tattoo is understandable, especially knowing that kevin’s sober and therefore must have had a problem.  the cracker dust he asks about just because he doesn’t know what it is- he doesn’t like it, but trusts kevin that he’s done with it.  he’s seen the scar along kevin’s hand, he already assumed it was from a surgery.  the edgar allen thing was too vague for him to be curious about, but he does ask- not about, the father comment, but if he’s okay about it.  kevin tells him this much;  that he transferred from edgar allen to palmetto because he’d known for a few years that wymack was his father, and that he didn’t have the courage to tell him until last year.

kevin thanks the gods that dalton doesn’t ask about or seem to remember any mention of the yakuza.

they’re at kevin’s suite because he knows they’ll have a few hours by themselves with everyone at the stadium, but only an hour in there’s knocking on the door.  dalton has his lips on kevin’s- he’d just said how he likes having access to his “real smile”.  “gonna get it?”  kevin shakes his head.  the knocking starts again.

“come on, kevin!  we’re sorry!  just open up for a second!”

kevin knows dalton likes when he speaks french, so he sighs and kisses him before whispering, “i hate them all.”

dan is at his door with matt and allison in tow.  “what do you want?”

“to apologize.”  kevin raises his eyebrows.  “look, we take the piss a lot and you never seemed to be visibly affected by it, so we didn’t realize that last night was upsetting you until you left.”

“you said never have i ever seen kevin have a meltdown.  why do you think you’ve seen that?  because i’m a toddler?  you know what i’ve had my reasons.”  riko.  the moriyamas.

“i know.  look, we don’t want to give you excuses.  i-i don’t have an explanation.  you’ve always kind of let us take the piss without saying anything, and we took it too far, especially last night.  andrew looked like he wanted to kill nicky for the yakuza comment, but neil talked to him about it before we went to the stadium this morning,” she whispers the last part because she’s not stupid, and kevin huffs.

matt jumps in.  “we wanna make it up to you, man.  you’ve obviously hid him from us for a reason and we proved you right.”  kevin honestly wants to get back to dalton and he wants it to just be over with.  “bring him to the winter banquet, we’ll be nice.  if anyone says anything i’ll punch em.  neil will chew em out.”

kevin grimaces.  the ravens will be at the banquet.  it’s in just over a month, the second week of december.  he’ll have to tell dalton some things by then.  and he might have to say something to the public.

he doesn’t tell him anything.  not yet, at least.  he still has three weeks until the banquet- he hasn’t even asked dalton yet.  he starts to like away games a little more than before, though.  he gets dalton a little postcard from every new state they go to.  he tapes them all to one of the walls of his room.

he’s on the phone with dalton at an airport general store, even, when he gets interrupted by two girls.  he puts on his press smile before he even notices.  “hold on, d.”

he doesn’t love fan interactions.

when they leave, dalton asks him with amusement if he’s got fans now, and kevin kind of decides he should probably tell him some more about his life because jesus, does he have fans.  he needs to tell him about he and riko.  what they were, what they were to fans of exy, what kevin was to fans of exy.  what kevin was to riko- without involving the yakuza.

but he doesn’t, because dalton never brings up the topic of “fans” again.

he doesn’t tell him until a week later, when he wakes up from a nightmare.

dalton’s leaning over him, speaking, but all kevin sees is riko riko riko.  it takes all of two seconds for dalton to back off.

“hey, hey, it’s me, it’s dalton.  you’re safe, you’re in my apartment.  no one else is here, i promise.”

kevin’s breathing so hard, dalton flicks the lamp on and he just crumbles.  he sits up and presses his hands over his eyes, “i’m sorry.”

“can i touch you?” he nods.  dalton’s sitting at his side, cross legged, and gently pulls kevin’s hands off his eyes.  “you don’t have to be sorry.  i know there’s shit in here,” he lightly lifts his hands to hold kevin’s face and taps his temple with a finger, “i don’t need to know what it is, just know you don’t have to apologize for it, and know you’re safe.”

kevin nods and twists to hug him.  and dalton wraps his arms securely around kevin’s back.  he presses a kiss to the top of his head and mumbles “c’mere” to prompt kevin into climbing into his lap.

dalton slides his fingers through kevin’s hair and it’s just so soothing, it nearly puts him to sleep.  and when dalton lays back down kevin stays wrapped around him with his cheek pressed to his chest.

when kevin wakes up it’s to find they’ve switched positions overnight.  dalton’s got his arm lazily draped over kevin’s waist, almost holding him close like a pillow.  his ankle is thrown over kevin’s, and his head is pressed into the back of kevin’s neck.

kevin doesn’t want to move.  in fact, he stays so still so as to not wake dalton, that when he stirs kevin just shushes him and pulls dalton’s arm back around him.  he holds his hand close to his chest.

dalton’s not stupid.  he knows kevin’s awake and nuzzles himself closer.  “you like being cuddled.”

“you’re the one doing it, not me.”  but he definitely tilts further into the pillow to expose his neck when dalton starts kissing up the side.

“you like being the little spoon.”  and pushes himself up over kevin.  “you like when you’re on the bottom, kev.” he kisses him deep into the mattress despite morning breath, and noses down his neck.  “i like it.”

kevin tugs at dalton’s hair.  “and what… what about it?”

ahaha.  aha.  sex.

anyway.

he tells dalton everything afterwards.  he leaves out the yakuza part, and the fact of neil’s past, because that’s another monster.  but he tells him the rest.  who his mother is and why he’s such a big deal in the exy world;  why he really left edgar allen and came to the foxes;  the tattoo that’s buried under his chess piece and what it meant.  what his relationship with riko was really like, and everything about their past and the abuse he endured.

and he fills him in on what triggers him because of that: small pitch black rooms, confined spaces without an easy way out, holding his hand too tight, the mention of riko moriyama, a lot of other things.

and dalton stays. 

so kevin asks him to the banquet.  when he says yes, he asks wymack for help arranging an interview.  there are enough people and press lingering outside the exy banquets, and he’d like to hold his boyfriend’s hand on the way in this year.

it’s scheduled to be live the morning before the banquet.  it’s with sophie silletti for espn college exy, and she posts about it as soon as it’s booked.

kevin sits with her.  it’s nothing like kathy ferdinand.  they talk strictly about exy and eventually, with his pre-approved questions, she brings up thea’s team’s most recent game.  “and forgive me if i’m wrong, but you and thea muldani split recently, yes?”

kevin nods.  “back in may, i’d say.  we’re still friendly, i have the utmost respect towards her.  in the end it just didn’t work out.”  i haven’t talked to her in months.

sophie nods.  “everything happens for a reason, i’d like to think.”

“of course.  it wouldn’t have led me elsewhere.”

“is that hinting at something?  i feel we don’t normally talk about this, but does kevin day have someone new in his love life?”  

kevin palms are sweating.  he hopes his face isn’t red with nerves.  “i do, actually.  i won’t say anything about him for his own privacy” i don’t want the public’s prying eyes “but we’ve been together for a bit, now.”

sophie is grinning, she feigns surprise.  “i heard you say him, did i not?  anything else to tell us?”

he keeps his smile easy, but he can feel the worry in the back of his head telling himself they can see right through it.  “if you’re asking, then sure.  i’m a bisexual man, so yes, my partner is also a man.  this is the first time i’ve ever announced it to the public, actually.”  as if that wasn’t the whole point of today.

“at least your fangirls can keep their hopes up, then, yeah?  still got a 50/50 shot!  and i’ve got to say, i feel honored you trusted me and my show with a milestone like this.  coming out certainly is a big deal, or at least nerve wracking!  how do you feel?” she laughs.  “is it like a weight lifted from your shoulders?”

“i was never too stressed about it.”  lies.  “some will hate, sure, but my job is the game.  if my fans are true then this won’t change that.  speaking of,” and then it’s back to exy.

wymack drives them back to palmetto, and when they’re close enough he says, “i’m proud of you for doing that.”

“thanks.”

“where am i dropping you off?”

kevin knows andrew and neil probably watched the interview, and he doesn’t feel like dealing with whatever they’ve got to say about it.  so wymack drops him at dalton’s who hugs him as soon as he opens the door.

“you watched?”

“of course.”  he kisses his cheek.

all posts/updates relating to this au can be found in the “OC: dalton miller” tag!

extra content

[whosnickydude]

A soft dusk

okay so a while ago a posted this Kandreil drabble on ao3 but never really kept writing a 2nd part? but now that’s summer i have more time on my hands and i started writing again, so i guess i’m posting the 1st part here as well?? idk enjoy

CW: panic attack, Kevin has some really sad and harmful thoughts. please take care of yourselves lovies!

Kevin was spiraling. He felt as if his chest was about to explode from the pressure of not getting air through, and he couldn’t get a hold of his feelings.

Six months had passed since Riko’s death. Since the press lurking around every corner, demanding answers, fighting for a statement. None of them were sensible about it. Kevin practically couldn’t go anywhere alone the first month, or he would probably end up being stalked. One time it actually got close to physical assault.

All the while, he was mourning Riko. And he was the only one, it seemed. He felt immensely guilty, for an overbearing amount of reasons. He felt guilty for letting his brother become the sadistic monster he turned into. He felt guilty for not being able to change him. He felt guilty for leaving him. But most of all, he felt guilty for mourning him. It wasn’t fair, not with all that he did to Kevin. The sleepless nights, the feeling of always being a prey, always the second, always with a leash around his neck. He broke his hand because he was having a fucking tantrum, for God’s sake. It was not fair that Kevin still had to feel like shit because of him dying.

He started drinking, after that. More than he did before. It was the only way he knew to numb the pain. The other foxes let him. None of them understood why he felt so sad about his abuser’s death, so none of them knew how to —or wanted to— comfort him. They would throw him a pitying glance and try to do so, but after some times he shoved them off, they started to leave him to himself. So they let him drink. It wasn’t as if they ignored him completely. When everyone went to Eden’s Matt, or Dan, or Allison asked him to go dancing with them. Sometimes he got so drunk that he actually did. Most of the time, though, he stayed on the table while everyone gradually went to the dance floor. They never left him completely alone. Almost every time, Neil and Andrew stayed on the other side of the table, speaking in languages he didn’t know. Probably flirting shamelessly right on his face. However, the only one who stopped him from getting alcohol down his throat was Andrew, and only when he saw that another one would end up with Kevin passing out.

Five months had passed since Thea left him by now. And through text, at that. Apparently, he was making a fool of himself in public every day and it was bad for both of their careers. She didn’t want anything to do with him nor with Edgar Allen. The hypocrite. Kevin was the only one that was always mindful of his surroundings. The only one that acted perfect, that pushed every feeling inside so as to not attract too much undesired attention from the public. But she had it as she wanted it, and Kevin put no resistance against it. They didn’t even see each other and barely even texted or spoke on the phone.

The drinking got worse. The mighty Queen of Exy had fallen, but the only ones who saw it happening were the Foxes. And people who knew nothing about Exy in the darkness of a nightclub in full swing.

Four months had passed since on a Wednesday at 6 A.M., in the middle of his morning run, Neil had found Kevin, alone, near to unconsciousness in the middle of the road to Fox Tower. He had his body on the street and his head on the sidewalk. His face was pressed to the pavement as he sobbed, a half-empty bottle of vodka in his right hand.

Four months had passed since the last time he drank alcohol: he was four months sober now.

It had taken fights, screams, and comforting talks with Abby, but Kevin finally accepted to go to A.A. Neither Wymack nor Andrew would let him alone enough time for him to get near any type of alcoholic beverage. It took a while, but he got to the point that he spent a whole day not thinking about it.

Right now, he would kill for a drink. His mind seemed to have caught up on everything that had happened in the past few months. It was the beginning of term, so everyone wasn’t as free anymore to look out for him. Andrew and Neil had gone out a while ago, probably to the roof, since it was almost dawn. Kevin was left alone for more time than he could manage. The prospect of having to deal with still mourning the death of his worst nightmare, his own mental health, his addiction, and the school year, was simply too much. It was looming over him. He felt as if he was dying.

Maybe it was because he found himself with so few distractions that he started overthinking. Maybe he just opened the wrong Pandora’s box from the rotten depths of his mind. Either way, he was panicking. The rush of adrenaline and utter fear he felt —he remembered— from his time in the Nest was a live wire around his throat. How could he let all those things happen to him? Riko’s abuse, Tetsuji’s beating, the terror, the exposure. Being so vulnerable and ignored while also being right in the spotlight. “Always a commodity, never a human being...”

And then, what? He went running to his father, who didn’t even know he was his father. And he didn’t say anything about it until he was forced to do so. He was a coward. He was a coward, a fucking coward.

He couldn’t breathe. His head felt heavy, his shoulders felt heavy, his whole body felt heavy. Living felt heavy. Maybe he could just lay down where he was sitting on the couch and let himself go. But he couldn’t bring himself to move. His vision started blurring and everything around him was out of focus. Suddenly, there was a warm pressure on the back of his neck, and then another on his right cheek. The world started solidifying back, spinning around him, and he was gasping for air. He was letting out ragged, desperate gasps, his neglected lungs screaming for oxygen.

A face started coming to focus in front of him, but as soon as it materialized it blurred again. Tears were running down his face and he curled his arms around him. The pressure on the back of his neck —a hand, he realized— tightened, and the one on his cheek went up to pull at his hair.

“Kevin, look at me,” he heard someone say. The voice sounded familiar. “Kevin, I need you to breathe.”

The hand behind him stretched up and tangled between his hair as well, pushing his head slightly down.

“Come down, Kevin. You’re safe.”

The voices felt oddly comforting, and his hands flew up to grasp the other two. He was still crying and gasping, but it wasn’t as desperate. Maybe he wouldn’t die today.

At some point during the episode he had shut his eyes tightly, and now he tried to blink slowly, with narrowed eyes. The first thing that he saw was red hair, scarred skin, and blue eyes. Neil was in front of him, looking worried in his own way. His brow was furrowed, and he was chewing on his lip, but his expression didn’t seem quite compassionate.

“Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth, Kevin,” he said. He showed the motion, exaggerating his breaths for Kevin to copy. And Kevin could only look him in the eyes and comply. Some time passed —maybe minutes, maybe hours— and the panic ebbed. The tears wouldn’t stop falling and his breath was shaky, but he wasn’t hyperventilating anymore.

He was still holding both hands, and he felt the one at the back of his head slip away from his grasp. He looked back and saw Andrew staring at him, sitting on the arm of the couch. Neil was sitting on the coffee table in front of it.

“I’m... I’m sorry, I just...” he started, but couldn’t finish.

Andrew didn’t look away from him. His face didn’t demonstrate any emotion, but he still wasn’t looking away. “What happened, Kevin?”

“I...” He sighed. “I started overthinking, and I really wanted a drink, and I... I guess it just went down from there.”

His voice was small and he hated it. He felt stupid, he couldn’t be left alone with his thoughts for two fucking seconds because he started falling to pieces.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Well, don’t be,” Neil said. “It’s only natural for these things to happen.”

Kevin wasn’t really sure what he meant by that, but he didn’t have much time to think about it because then Neil was standing up and going to the kitchen. Kevin looked back towards Andrew and saw him lighting up a cigarette and walking to the desk next to the window.

“Go change your clothes, Kevin,” he said, looking out towards the campus. “You’ll be itchy until you do, and you probably drenched all that in sweat anyway.”

He was probably right, Kevin thought, but still glared in his direction. Only because it was in his nature and he felt better already; Andrew wasn’t looking at him. Though he probably knew Kevin would glare at him. Giving no response to the blonde, he stood up and went to the bedroom to change into his pajamas. Andrew was right: the sweatpants felt like heaven on his skin. He closed his eyes and brought his hands up to rub them. He was feeling sleepy all of a sudden. The panic attack had drained all the energy from him, and his muscles hurt everywhere.

He went back out to the living room, yawning, and found Neil sprawled on one end of the couch with his laptop on his lap and a cup of coffee on hand. Andrew had one too where he was still sitting on the desk, and there was another one on the coffee table.

“Is that for me?” Kevin asked, sitting down on the other end of the couch. Neil looked up at him from his laptop and raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“No, Day, I felt like having two cups of coffee,” he said. They fixed their eyes on each other until Kevin decided to take the cup. Neil seemed satisfied with that and looked back to where he was browsing something. A few seconds later he clicked on something with a flourish and put his laptop on the coffee table. It was a Trojan’s game they had already seen many times.

Kevin stared at Neil, but the boy just kept watching the beginning of the game. He saw Andrew moving to stub his finished cigarette on the window sill and light up another one. The last rays of sunshine and the street lights drew shadows all over his face. He breathed out the smoke and Kevin saw it disappearing in the wind. He looked back to the game playing on the laptop and brought his knees to his chest. He sipped on his coffee, and it was sugary sweet. But he could allow himself that, at least for today.

[ultrahpfan5blog]

Rewatching the Bourne series

Just recently rewatched this series. In my opinion, one of the best action-thriller franchises around. I caught onto the Bourne movies fairly late. In fact I think Ultimatum was the first movie I saw in theaters. But I caught up with Bourne Identity and Bourne Supremacy before watching Ultimatum. The initial trilogy in particular is pretty superb trilogy of movies. While I know there are people who don’t like The Bourne Legacy and Jason Bourne, I still find them enjoyable to varying degrees. 

The Bourne Identity is my second favorite film in the franchise behind Ultimatum. In context of the series, you can tell this one is made by a different director since the action scenes look different. The film is a bit more of a mystery because we are basically finding out about what is going on as Bourne does, which can be tricky because, if not executed correctly, without knowing who the character is, you can find it hard to feel attached to the character. That’s where I think Liman did a great job in making Bourne seem like an underdog but still making him a complete badass. The relationship with Marie is key here. Unlike in many spy films where romance seems extraneous to the story, here it works to ground Bourne to some sort of normalcy which he craves and which is why he doesn’t want to continue being a killer. The CIA stuff is also compelling because actors like Cooper and Cox are able to deliver exposition in a compelling way. The pacing is key, which is key to the entire franchise. All 4 movies with Damon clock in under two hours and not a minute of the movie is wasted. The action is excellent but the highlight action piece is definitely the car chase, which is superbly coordinated. Also surprisingly affecting in a very short role is Clive Owen. His death scene is exceptionally well executed and his performance in that scene is really well done. What he says in that scenes comes back later in Ultimatum. Matt Damon was all fresh faced around the time this movie came out and it really was a casting against what he had done prior to this and that works big time. He has a casual, unassuming presence but he just turns on the badass in an epic way. The role suits him perfectly and he’s excellent in it. Franka Potente is also great as Marie. A 8.5/10

The Bourne Supremacy is my third favorite film of the series, just a smidge behind Identity. Its still excellent. Its the shortest film of the series and it does feel it at times. It just hurtles along. I was initially a little annoyed at how they killed off Marie to give Bourne a motivation, but I also understand that practically, its impossible for Marie to keep up with Bourne as he shuttles all the way across the world. The scope of this movie is significantly increased. Whereas the first movie was set in interconnected Europe, largely in Paris, this film goes from India, to Naples, to Berlin, to Moscow. The film also gradually expands Bourne’s past as we gradually start learning about the things he’s done. The film acts as part revenge thriller and part mystery as Bourne tries to figure out his memories. There is a bit of narrative convenience here, that Bourne is remembering details of that assassination just as the CIA is digging into the Neski files. But the film flows so well that you can forgive minor narrative conveniences like that. The film introduces Pam Landy and the CIA side of things is given a bit more of a stronger narrative. Whereas in Identity, the CIA guys were the clear antagonists to Bourne, here Pam Landy is also posed as a figure who is trying to do the right thing. Cox and Stiles are back as Abbott and Pasrons respectively. Julia Stiles didn’t have much to do in Identity other than follow orders but you start to see her role get expanded. Cox takes the role of the primary CIA antagonist. Karl Urban as the Russian assassin was a welcome presence, but in the end the film is carried by Damon. He’s a bit angrier and bit more emotional and he’s excellent throughout. The film introduces Greengrass’ now infamous shaky cam action. For me, while I normally don’t like it, Greengrass is one of the few directors who knows how to do it well. Admittedly, the fight scene between Bourne and Jarda is not the best filmed one, so his technique was still a work in progress, but the rest of the action is top class. Again, the car chase sequence in the finale is top notch and thrilling. Also, it has probably the coolest ending of the series. A 8/10

The Bourne Ultimatum was the first Bourne film I watched in theaters and its my favorite. I think the film is near perfect across the board. I think this film makes the best use of all the cast and Greengrass gives us some terrific action sequences throughout the movie. And because this Bourne tracing back his origin, its perhaps the most compelling mystery of the series as he tries to find out how he became who he is. Firstly, the action is the best it is in the series. The Bourne vs Desh fight is the highwater mark when it comes to individual fight scenes in the series. Its compelling, brutal, and you feel every punch. All the chase sequences, be it foot chases or car chases are incredibly intense. I think the CIA part of the movie is the most compelling it has ever been with David Strathairn is excellent as Vosen, who plays the new CIA antagonist, and Joan Allen continues to be terrific as Pam Landy. Them playing counterparts to each other makes it fascinating to watch even the non Bourne scenes. Then Julia Stiles get an even more expanded role as Nicky Parsons. The Bourne and Nicky dynamic is interestingly played with a touch history and one sided romantic tension which is never directly addressed. But it does make it compelling. Albert Finney shows up as the Dr. Frankenstein of the Treadstone/Blackbriar operation and he’s enigmatic as hell. The climax between Bourne and Hirsch is terrifically acted by both parties. We also see a mirror of the scene from Identity where Bourne repeats the same dialogue to Edgar Ramirez’s assassin that Owen’s character had said to him. Damon is superb as always. Completely natural in the action and perfectly balancing stoicism with vulnerability when required. The film ends on a note that would have been perfect if they had chosen to end the series here. A 9/10.

The Bourne Legacy is kind of the step child of this series. The only movie which doesn’t have Damon/Bourne in the series. Intended to start a spinoff series but didn’t quite have the commercial success to do so. I admit that when I first saw the film in theaters, I didn’t like it. Over time, I have grown to appreciate it more although its still well below the original trilogy of films for me. Firstly, what’s good. Jeremy Renner is an excellent protagonist. Being compared to Damon is a thankless job but he managed to forge a different character in Aaron Cross. Rachel Weisz also does a strong job as Dr. Shearing and Renner and Wesiz have decent chemistry. The film doesn’t try and ape the previous Bourne films and it goes for a different angle. Its more a survival film for the protagonists than a mystery. The characters aren’t trying to bring down the program, not trying to find out something, just trying to escape the clutches of the Defense Department. The action scenes are good. However, the film is the longest of the series and it feels like it. The film also royally wastes an actor of the caliber of Edward Norton. He does fine with what he has but he’s literally just there barking orders in front of monitors. He shares one short flashback scene with Renner, but otherwise is disconnected from the other two leads, Whereas in the previous Bourne films and even in Jason Bourne, there were always at least two main characters who had interactions with each in the rooms of the CIA, allowing for some interplay, this time Norton is all on his own which makes the search for Cross and Marta a lot less interesting. I also wasn’t a huge fan of the idea of chems, but I have grown to accept it. The film also doesn’t have any major hand to hand fighting sequences. They hype up the Larx assassin but he ends up dying because Marta pushes hum while he was riding a bike. Pretty underwhelming after all the build up. What I especially didn’t like is how the film tries to undo Ultimatum’s ending. I don’t know who thought that was a good idea but it pissed me off. In the end, its a decently entertaining movie but its disappointing within the context of the franchise. A 5.5-6/10

Jason Bourne is a bit of a polarizing movie. Everyone was really excited when this movie was coming out and a bunch of them were disappointed. While I do think this is not as good as the initial trilogy of movies, I still do enjoy it. My issue with the movie lies on two fronts. The film is essentially divided into 3 sections. The main part is Jason Bourne continuing to track into his past as he finds out that there might be more to his recruitments than he thought. That part works perfectly and its very compelling. There is the CIA backroom drama between Dewey and Lee and the Asset, which is also solid. What doesn’t work is the third angle about the new blackops program connected with Deep Dream. It feels like the writers and the director stretching to try and be very timely and addressing issues of privacy without making it fit very organically to the story. I mean, Bourne isn’t even really connected to that part of the story and whenever that portion of the movie takes focus, its less interesting. In addition, the film doesn’t make it clear exactly how Dewey is connected to Bourne’s past. The film indicates that Bourne knows Dewey but the how isn’t explained. But everything directly connected to Bourne works well and I did like that the Asset is given a more direct personal connection to Bourne, which makes their individual fight be more personal. I think Matt Damon is excellent in this movie. He plays Bourne more broken and on the edge than he’s ever been in this movie. There are several scenes, such as his climactic scene with TLJ, where you feel him teetering. Julia Stiles shows back up as Nicky who starts Bourne on her journey. Like with Marie, I was disappointed she was killed off but I also get that Bourne needs to be alone in order to be able to move as fast he does from one place to another. TLJ is an old pro at roles like these and it shows. He does it with ease. Alicia Vikander is good as Heather Lee but I feel as the role needed someone a little bit older to be believable as someone as high up as her in the agency. But I suppose her being a young ambitious upstart is part of the point. When it comes to the action, I think its all top notch. I know not everyone likes shaky cam but Greengrass uses it well. The Greece sequence, the car chase in the climax, and the hand to hand fight sequence in the end, is all well done. I am also glad thiat it does seem to indicate that not everything that Bourne exposed in Ultimatum was covered up and Blackbriar was exposed, unlike what Legacy indicated. The film doesn’t address Legacy at all apart from listing Outcome and Larx in the list of Blackops programs. Overall still a good movie. A 7/10 for me.

I do think the series should be ended. There is a feeling of the films becoming formulaic setting in at this point and Bourne has taken down everyone who had to do with him becoming who he was and has no figured how he became who he was. So I don’t think there is anything more to explore. I don’t see The Cross series continuing since it underperformed at the BO and its been a long time since that movie came out now.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Taken (Early Years)

Summery- Curtis x Y/N, five years after being put on the train. Loss of will to live, Curtis insists on keeping you alive. Angst.

Word Count- 3879

They had to make fun where they could, You would make up games with a die you still had, your younger brother, Matt sitting cross legged across from you on the bunk and a 4 year old Edgar in your lap, leaning over as much as possible without falling out of your lap. Matt just tossed the die, all three of you waiting to see where it would land.

"Okay Edgar, count the dots" you tickled him, the boy squealing before pushing your hands away. When he leaned over, his little lips counted softly, and his turned wide eyed towards you. "Three?" You nod and Matt cheers, putting up his hand to fist bump. "Boom man" Matt imitated a move you seen Curtis do a hundred times, imitating his hand blowing up on impact, Edgar falling over in a head half out of your lap giggling. 

"Alright, so when we roll a three, you got two choices." You said to the two of them. "You can either do 3 tumbles here in the bunk or 3 sprints to the gate and back."

While the boys discussed which to do, Curtis popped his head in. "3 sprints is the way to go, I mean…" he was hanging onto the bars to bring himself level to look in, hopping down and pretending to shade his eyes to see further down. "You guys will have the whole aisle to race" 

So it was decided, and you handed Edgar out to Curtis, who swung the boy down while Matt squirreled himself out right behind, jumping down. You shifted to sit on the edge, your legs dangling over the edge, enjoying watching the three of them. Curtis was squatted between the two boys, he was holding the back of there shirts to keep them from bolting. "Count of three, touch the gate and back to this spot. One…. Two…. Two and a half…" his hand had to tighten on Edgar who had anticipated three. "Okay three! Go go go!" 

Releasing them, they bolted and hands to his knees, he rose from the squat and leaned back against the bunk, tipping his head back to look up at you. "Running out of ideas of how to keep them entertained yet?" You crossed your eyes out at him and reached over to push his cap over his eyes. 

"Well you got some ideas Curtis feel free to share. Better then them trying to spy of the super secret Gilliam meetings y'all keep having." You teased him as he readjusted his cap, rolling his eyes at you. "Super secret? Anyone is free to join, I think McGregor might be onto something actually Y/N." He said with a hint of hopefulness you've haven't heard from your friend before. Twitching your nose, all this was a bit over your head. It worried you, and knowing Curtis like you did, he would be in the very front.

Your ankle started jittering nervously, picking at your shirt. "So…. Uh…. Like nothings happening right away right?" His hand lifted to still your ankle, turning to face you. "Dont worry, nothings happening right away, its all just talk." Letting out a whoosh of air, you nod and smile apologetically. "Sorry, its just we've all heard the stories and saw what happened to the seven." 

He turned to face you, shaking his head lightly. “It wont be like that, no one will be leaving the train. Not alive anyways. We already know we cant survive out of this, but we can get the perks. Getting to the engine. McGregor wants to end Wilfords reign.” His hand came up to straighten out his beanie from where you had messed with it earlier, tugging it off and about to refold it.

You take the beanie from his hands though and fold up the edges, tugging him closer so you didn't have to lean over to much and fix it on his head, crossing your eyes at him to tease. “Okay, okay. It doesn't sound like a bad idea. And it would be nice to see what else they got on here. I mean, do they have actual food in the front still? Cause I would love chocolate again.” turning your head, you squint. “boys still down there? they should have come back up by now.”

 Curtis glanced down and cupped his hand to call the boys "Hey! Thought we were racing?!" He watched a few moments to be sure they had heard him, and remarked his own desires. “Do you remember burgers? Like big juicy bacon burgers with lots of melted cheese? and fries?” He made a drooling face and you cuffed at his shoulder, groaning. “Stoooop! now I want fries with loads and loads of cheese and gravy.” He made a face of disgust. “What? You eat fries with Ketchup!”

Matt took Edgars hand and they started walking back, making you frown at the sight. Maybe the younger boy was tired out finally, when the familiar sound of the gate opened. Armed men came in, the guns sweeping over immediately towards the boys "stop right there" Matt went stiff as he stopped walking, Edgar pulled away though, racing back up the aisle with fear, and sprinting towards the two of you. "Edgar hide!" Curtis hissed as the boy clashed into his arms and Curtis swept him into the bunk. "Go Edgar, get out of here." The boy nodded as he climbed away into the other bunks making his way towards the back through peoples sleeping spaces. You slid down, and started to make your way up towards the front to reach Matt, his face twisting in fear as he was forced to sit. 

Claude stepped in, her heels clicking against the metal grate, whispering to the first guard. They stepped forward and motioned for the crowd to sit down, and the ones in front did. Your hands grasped Matts shoulders, he was shaking under your hands. Smiling you whispered to him "Hey, it's okay." And you sat down, looking over your shoulder, your parents were just coming up at the back of the crowd, your eyes also searched out Curtis, who was a few rows back, squatting as he had before. 

"Okay boys, come up. Wilford needs you." Claude crossed her arms and looked over the boys emerging from the crowd. Your hand tightened on Matt and didn't dare move should she look over the crowd. “put your head down” You whispered to your brother, hoping that he would blend in enough, she wouldnt notice him. What would Wilford want with kids? Claude grasped one boys chin and tilted his face back and forth, pushing others aside, tutting her disappointment. She looked over the crowd and then she locked eyes with you. And try as you might, you couldn't hold her gaze. It turned towards Matt and you knew she wanted him. 

Starting to scramble up, tugging on Matt's shirt, the guards pushed into the sitting people, grabbing the boy under the arms and snatching him out of your grasp. "NO, GIVE HIM BACK, MATT" Your following them through, pummeling your hands against the guards back. Claude back hands you viciously. "Teach her where she belongs." Claude snapped as she ripped Matt to her side, marching them out. Already you were pushing your way up to follow, and the guard smashed his heavy boot right into your chest, sprawling you back again. You didn't notice the air knocking out of you, just that Matt was getting further out of your reach and again you were scrambling across the floor, trying to pull yourself up. 

“Dumb bitch, they never learn back here” The man sneered as he lifted his gun to smash the butt of the rifle into your back, dropping you to flatten against the aisle floor, crying. “Now stay down or else” You were never one to listen, and you were trying to push yourself up, the guard lifting to hit you again. It was then a large pair of arms circled around your waist and yanked you back, much as you struggled against them. “Let me go!” You raged, your teeth coming down to bite whatever part was closest, getting a mouth full of dirty jacket, never would be able to sink into anything substantial. But fuck if you weren't going to try. Curtis spoke in your ear as he turned his back to the beating raining down. They were meant to hit against you, but his body now sheltered your struggling one as they beat into his back, and one clipped the back of his neck, bringing his weight down to smother you, arms tightening to keep you against him. He hissed against the back of your head, and further above you, muffled sounds and screams were issued. 

Tonya then started to rile up the crowd, knowing it was basically the only chance to draw off the mass of guards beating on the two of you, crowds of people following her lead to tackle them, and the confusion issued a few shots into the crowd, before dispersing. During this period, Curtis managed to pull you further back into the train and dump you into a bunk, pushing you back into the shadowed area. You moved to follow him back out, not caring any longer, but his hand roughly pushed you back and he growled out sharply. “Stay the fuck there Y/N” 

When he disappeared from sight, you covered your head in your arms, breaking out a sob as all of what just happened overtook your body. He was gone, they took Matt, and you had no idea why. It was just a known fact that people taken past those prison like gates, they were never returned. Would he be okay? He was 11 years old, why would they want him in the first place. Your mom came in, tears tracking down her face as her hands frantically searched you for injuries. You clung to her, sobbing into her jacket as she tried to calm you. There was no way to make it better, no way to take away that hollow sense of loss that overtook the two of you. Wilford shattered your life again. Her fingers brushed along the back of your skull, and came back sticky hot. “Y/N, your bleeding. Let me look” She crooned at you, lifting your hair and grabbing a rag to blot it.

The day passed and when it all went quiet again, people breaking off to retreat to there own little spots and groups, you moved from where you had curled up. Your parents were afraid to push you to speak, and Curtis came back, sporting bruises on his face, and haunches slightly. Quietly he let his hand trace your face, soft whispers “Y/N? Im so sorry... “ You pulled away from him, hiding your face. “Please dont Curtis” you whisper, and he pulls his hand back, his own eyes swimming, glazed blue. 

 Your eyes were red and burning, there was no more tears left, and after hours of staying still, you finally moved, it takes a bit till feeling really returns, but you work your way down out of the bunk. Clutching your tattered blanket around you, you made your way to the gate, your fingers tracing the seam. Maybe you could pry it open, maybe it wasn't properly sealed, maybe maybe maybe filled your head. Your hands scrambled, your nails breaking against the metal, and you thumped your body against it now in desperation. Again you got wrapped in a pair of arms, and away from the door to swing around, Curtis slid against the gate to sit on the floor, his chin on your shoulder and his thighs gripping around your waist, cocooning himself around you to keep your manic self from hurting yourself any further.

Words just wouldn't come, your throat closed, but inside you mentally threw questions to bounce around your skull. Why why why.... He rocked you slightly till your tension slowly started to seep from you. Blue eyes studied your profile before loosening, your body falling slack against his chest. A hiccup escaped you and he kept his arms loosely hugged around you. Giving another hiccup, you spoke barely above a whisper “What are we going to do Curtis, hes gone. And were trapped in here. Whats even the point in trying anymore?” Your voice was so full of defeat and despair, it hurt Curtis. He blinked back his own tears, still rocking the two of you slightly. “You cant give up Y/N, you never know what will happen.” You knew he was referring to the stirrings, plannings of the tail ends forces, how a riot was this close to happening. In exhaustion you didn't try to struggle anymore, your head falling back against his shoulder, and didn't say anymore. The riots right.... You didnt have faith in that the way he did. That night neither of you moved from the gate. 

Morning came and your parents insisted you return, which you didn't fight them, passively you followed your mother. Several times during the day Curtis would check on you, but you were just utterly hollow with grief. Food, water, the basic necessities were ignored, and every night Curtis would get up in the middle of the night, seeing you huddled against the door, listening for the other side and tracing the edges to find a weak spot. By morning you would be curled up between him and the gate, and he would again pick you up and carry you back to what was home for you. 

“Im worried about her Curtis” Your mother had pulled your best friend aside, her face stretched thin, and in the period of time since Matt had been taken, she aged immensely. Her lips were thin as they pressed together, the lines around them and her forehead now a permanent fixture. “I haven't been able to get her to eat, and we forced water down her the other day. But not enough. Were going to loose her if she doesn't snap out of it. Curtis, I cant loose another.” 

He had seen it to, the way you passed off your portion of protein bar to another, how your face was now pale, loosing its usual hue under the grime. And that scared him, loosing you scared the fuck out of him. You had seen him at his worst and didn't turn away, daily had made him remember what is was like to be human, to tease him, to remind him that he was here for a reason. Holding out his hand for the protein bar she had, his resolve absolute. 

“Give it to me, I will make sure she eats.” 

She didn't question what he was going to do, handing it over and going to help her husband in the wounded bay they had set up. She didn't want to see what Curtis was going to do to convince you, knowing full well how hard headed you would be, and the amount of depression you were battling, just wanting to fade away, die so you didn't have to live a life without your brother. Having already placed the blame on your shoulders for why he was taken. Why did I make them run away to the gate, so far away from where he could have hid and that bitch Claude never would have found him. 

Curtis approached cautiously, you were shivering, wrapped in your blanket. Hearing the thump of his boots you struggled to straighten up, knowing they were worrying about you. Curtis paused in front of you and moved to get level with you, you eyed the block in his hand "I know what your trying to do Curtis. And no. I dont want it." The thought of food made your stomach roll, looking away.

"Y/N, please. I promised your mother." He held the protein bar out for you, and you shake your head in refusal once again. What can't Curtis understand? You just wanted to fade into nothingness. "How about cause I'm Fucken worried Y/N? When was the last time you took care of yourself? You gonna leave me here alone?" He slammed questions, not beneath submitting you to guilt. 

Looking away, and your nostrils flared as you felt the bile rise in your chest, you swallow over and over to keep it down, taking deep breaths to control it. “Curtis go away, okay? Im fine.” His eyes darkened at your refusal, seeming to contemplate how to go about it next with you. He went to grasp your arm, make you take it when you slapped at him, not aiming but you got him right in the face. “I DONT WANT THAT GARBAGE, WHY CANT YOU JUST STOP!” He grabbed your wrists to stop your from clipping him again, you quit struggling soon, tired and weak in this state. “You will before the days over, thats a promise Y/N.” He snapped and released you, leaving you alone, for now. 

Heading straight for the wounded area, Curtis pulled Tonya aside, as she had once been a nurse and started explaining what was going on. Your mother was nearby, and wiping her hands on a rag, she paused nearby, listening. Curtis had been her last hope as your father just focused on the wounded bay to deal with grief and no amount of begging from her had brought you around. 

“What do you think Tonya, can it be done”

“Weve never tried to melt the protein bars down before, but we can try, mix them with water. You stuff any of this crap in her mouth like this, and shes gonna choke on it. You have to be careful though, cause you do not want this getting in her lungs.” Tonya said, washing her hands clear of grime in a pail. “Shes also gonna fight you, you cant loose your temper with her, not when shes like this.” Curtis arched a brow and shook his head. “Im not gonna hurt her, just tell me what to do.” 

That night, you did your trek to the gate, now you just chose to sleep there, no longer trying to pry the door open. It was fate, this was it, you accepted that you would die in this hell hole, and all the loss of those including Matt would no longer hurt your heart. Hearing Curtis footsteps echo against the metal grating lining the aisle, you chose to ignore him. In his hands he held a cup, but was sure to stay out of range of you for now. “Y/N, will you drink this without me having to force you to?” 

“No” Is all you state, tightening your blanket around you. 

“Okay then.... “ You peek and he looks like hes about to leave, but quick he grabs your coat and jerks you to fall back. Straddling your stomach, in shock you try wriggling out from underneath him. “What are you doing?! Curtis this isn't funny, get off!” He was careful to set the cup aside, and grabbing your arms, moving them to the sides of your body and wedging them under his knees to keep you from thrashing, the exertion leaving you panting and dizzy. You were in a worst state then you truly realized. 

“That should have been harder you know” He sighed as he leaned over you, worried lines creased his brow and his jaw ticked. “I told you today you would have food, please dont make me do this Y/N, you know I will” 

Remaining still for now, trying to conserve what strength you had left, you sigh “Curtis, im tired and I dont want to do this anymore, This life. Matts gone, were all just going to die on here.... Sick, wounded, hell killed cause one of us might have something valuable. I cant, dont make me.” Again his jaw clenched, and he reached for the cup. Clamping your mouth shut, you really weren't gonna budge. Pushing your face back when he went to reach for you, his fingers dug into your cheeks and jaws until the pressure became to much and you had to open for him. Tipping the cup, he attempt to pour in enough for a swallow, although it ran along the sides of your face. Releasing, his hand smothered your mouth to prevent you from spitting it out. Still struggling, you glare up at him, maybe even hated him at this moment. Finally you still, your nostrils flaring as you breathed, defying him once more. “God damn it Y/N, your really gonna make me do this arnt you.” He cussed out, clamping your nose shut. Your throat worked compulsive when your lungs burned, forcing you to swallow. 

After five tries of this, most of it had landed on the floor, but he wouldn't stop till he was sure you had something in your stomach, he released you, rolling away from each other. Trying not to cry and gagging, he rubbed your back although you hunched away from him Dont touch me! Your mind screamed as you gagged, the weight of the mixture he forced in you so heavy in your empty stomach, even his voice sounded desperate. “You cant, or I have to do that again” A wave of sickness passed, and you debate whether you should anyways. Your about to spit a venom amount of words at him when finally look at him, and you see him, for like the first time. It was like looking at that 17 year old kid you first met, scared as fuck at all of this, and doing whatever he could to stay alive. Only now he was doing that for you, even though he didnt speak it, his whole face said it. Please, I need you. 

You wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand, and crawl over to sit next to him, where he had dropped his head into his hands, giving a soft sob. “Your a real pain in my ass, you know that Y/N” He finally says as you lean your head on his shoulder. When he feels you sink in against his side, he wraps an arm around you and holds you close without saying anything more. You know no one else would have gone through all this, and sure enough he was the only one there, fighting to keep you alive. Were you fixed? Hell no, you still had that emptiness of loss that you suspected now never really would go away. But maybe you can try for him. 

“And yet you keep sticking around. I dont know what for, cause supposedly Im such a pain in the ass.” retorting back, That caused him to chuckle lightly, sniffling as he got himself under control.

“Do you promise to eat Y/N? Cause I will keep doing this if I have to.” 

Remaining silent as you let what he was asking, and simply stating as a fact, you can feel your resolve finally giving way completely. 

“For you I will. Curtis.... do you think Matt is still alive?” You feared his answer, if he said no, then it would really be true.”

“Yes Y/N, trust me. Hes alive” a man who still had faith. 

[ronnytherandom]

Media n Stuff

2/1/2021: American Psycho

Excellent, truly. Has a lot to say about those on the top of our social hierarchy, the wealthy and influential and how our modern system facilitates them at the expense of everyone else. A very stylish film, well edited and directed. Rests upon a truly magnificent performance in the case of Christian Bale’s Patrick Bateman, who does a fantastic job of playing something pretending to be human. Soundtrack is a bop.

3/1/2021: Se7en

All right, not my kind of thing ultimately. There are some thoughts about legacy and what doing good means here but I feel its slightly obscure and could be more clearly stated; perhaps I wasn’t paying close enough attention. Directing is top notch. The acting also is good but nothing truly incredible. The suspense is very effective but on occasion can be defeated by pacing, excess time creating boredom. Further it was partially predictable, which harmed the effectiveness of the piece. Though the point of the state of the victims is to inspire disgust this especially did not fit the remit of entertainment for me.

4/1/2021: The Martian

Highly Enjoyable. As usual, weaker than the novel but not to a Golden Compass level. Any work that bends heaven and earth to save a single life is good in my books. Retains the wit and the scientific backbone to good effect to offset the bleakness. Likewise, the back-and-forth structure between Mars and other locations helps to make the survival scenario less overbearing. Star-studded cast, and I think rightfully so here as the performances are generally very good. Matt Damon as Mark Watney has many moments of excellence. Mars is beautiful and I’m glad Ridley Scott captured that well, on top of doing a job that lives up to his reputation.

5/1/2021: Dredd

Good. Though I worry about the implications of a “Not All Cops Bad” message, it could be interpreted elsewise and is decidedly sympathetic to civilians which works in its favour. There is the aspect of portraying Police and Criminals as two sides of the same coin, with Dredd and Anderson existing outside of said dichotomy to some degree, but ultimately implying that the existing system just needs the right people in it without severe reform, though again that’s up for debate. Otherwise, good spectacle and very nice presentation; the film can be beautiful at times and when it isn’t it has excellent action. Something I appreciate is a clear view of the action, rather than the choppy action of modern superhero films, and an unflinching approach to the depiction of gore even if I was flinching at times. Though I’m unfamiliar with the original work I find this an interesting dystopia, even if Dredd himself can be a little cliché. Performances haven’t left much of an impression though.

6/1/2021: The Wolf of Wall Street

Meh? It’s well made don’t get me wrong, everything looks and feels high quality. Of course, Scorsese is a good director. Of course, DiCaprio’s acting is fantastic, as is the rest of the acting to be frank, but it just doesn’t come together for me. I don’t feel like there was a compelling reason to sit through that for three whole hours. I can see meaning in the depiction of excess; of Belfort’s alienation, losing everything that should be dear to him; of the animal nature of people who just want to make money. I can appreciate the powerful performances and the craftwork on display. I just didn’t enjoy it.

7/1/2021: Enola Holmes

Enjoyable. Has a more juvenile tone than I like, that’s to be expected from a coming-of-age story, but it certainly does a far better job with the gifted sister idea than the BBC Sherlock series did. At times this film was truly joyous and inspiring and I would attribute that to a cast of endearing characters and a strong thematic core which is carried throughout the story. However, from a more radical perspective I cannot endorse a seeming admonishment of direct action, as much as I appreciate the idea that getting new blood in politics is a progressive step forward. Performances are good, Millie Bobby Brown does well in the lead, though I am not so keen on her 4th wall asides, and I always appreciate the sight of Henry Cavill. Also, proud to see Burn Gorman portray the most accurate Normal Englishman I’ve ever seen. I also wanted to make note of what id consider good editing, felt very snappy and effective.

8/1/2021: Shaun of the Dead

Very good, but maybe doesn’t quite live up to its reputation. Very put off by the use of F and N slurs even if the prior is in context with English slang at the time. Id say this is the lesser of the Cornetto trilogy films but with such competition it’d be hard to come out on top. Quite dry humour, I don’t think all the jokes land, but there are a few true laugh out loud moments. Similarly, it works emotionally only some of the time but at moments, especially in Philips last words, there’s some genuine power. I do feel like the pace lulls slightly too much at moments but is generally very good and saves itself for a fun final sprint. The Zombies themselves are true to Romero’s style of zombie and though the satire is light in comparison to character-zombie parallels it is still effective. Performances are good, and serve well in demonstrating the range of Simon Pegg and Nick Frost in comparison with the later Cornetto films and Bill Nighy is always a treat. I only ever have praise for Edgar Wright as a fan of all his later works, so I’m glad to see even his first feature demonstrates his ability well, stylish young man is our Edgar.

8/1/2021: Avatar: Legend of Korra: Series 1

Not by any stretch a worthy successor but good by its own merit. Has powerful emotional moments and excellent action, I cannot get enough of any kind of bending in this universe. Some characters are likeable; Korra is a good lead, Tenzin is my personal favourite and I want to hug Naga. Bolin, however, can get shafted. his particular brand of comic relief inspires in me an absolute hatred I cannot fully fathom. I have many little gripes though. I find the love “square” (?) plot annoying and do not understand what purpose it serves. Just be honest with each other goddamn! In universe I wonder at the limits of metal bending, but the police are content simply to launch cables with it. Why are the Chi Fighters such an obstacle in the first half and yet become cannon fodder by the end? I also feel like a lot of the “powerful moments” I feel are dependent on nostalgia for The Last Airbender, such as any moment where the original theme is played, or when General Iroh appears etc. This is particularly egregious with the feature of cabbage corp. Really? It is frustrating to me that Korra spends the entire series past the second episode tell-not-showing us she can’t airbend before having it essentially gifted to her, similarly with the avatar state. As much as she does endure hardship, I feel like the series would be improved even slightly if Korra’s bending is taken away completely and she uses the avatar state to rescue Mako from Amon, when she is actually at her definitive low point. I find with most episodes there are moments which I’m absolutely invested in and really enjoying but then a gripe or two will pop up and marginally ruin the experience for me. But again, these are minor and as much as I fuss over these details the ultimate product is enjoyable and watchable. The setting is certainly interesting but (probably by design) New Republic City clashes too harshly with the magic system, and I think it harms the series. The animators and artists however should be lauded, as the spectacle here is magnificent.

9/1/2021: Ex Machina

Magnificent piece of work. This is what I imagine is actual good cinematography, rather than the usual “pretty stills equals good cinematography” take. Every frame a painting indeed, aided in that way by fantastically beautiful set work. Each actor deserves applause but I feel especially Alicia Vikander. As Ava she does brilliant work and at times uses an alien affectation which is an impressive highlight of attention to detail here. The director knows exactly what they’re doing, the whole thing has a kind of spotless professionalism. Special Effects are minimalist but used so very well, especially the work of making Ava and the other AI look so real. I love that this is a film which doesn’t stoop to explaining every little thing and treats the audience as an equal, and how the tension is reflected in all aspects of the piece and builds to such a mighty crescendo, though I was quite put off by the self-harm scene and would rather that were not a thing. Not only all of that but its deeply meaningful with a lot to say about our own minds (I don’t think Nathan passes Turing test) with a decidedly feminist angle too. It really is a treat.

10/1/2021: Sourcery (unfinished)

Even as a fan of early Pratchett, this ain’t it chief. I don’t like it. The jokes don’t land, the only character I like is The Librarian and the whole thing just kind of bores me, so I’ve stopped somewhere just past halfway as I can’t be fussed for the rest. I don’t care about Coin, or the wizards, or Rincewind, even the Luggage has lost that pariah charisma it usually has. Conina feels weird? I feel like there this constant unnecessary sexualisation of her and Rincewind’s affections seem more than mildly inappropriate. I’ve been reading it a week and I’ve barely been able to drag myself to it these past couple of days so I feel its time for something a little fresher.

10/1/2021: The Two Popes

Very good. There is excellence in all aspects of this films craft. Johnathan Pryce gives an endearing performance; Anthony Hopkins is likewise very good as you’d expect. I think this is a film to listen to through a good sound system, the sound work struck me as exceptional in its attention to detail while the soundtrack is good fun. Direction is dynamic and effective most evidently in the camera work which tends to feel Just Right. Dialogue is very well written and feels very organic. I enjoy the themes of change and reconciliation and feel contrasting the character of the two popes expresses this very effectively, however I would much rather see evidence of genuine change that surely must’ve occurred rather than a simple implication of change as we see. There is the argument to be made that fully reconciling the old and the new without altering material reality, beyond giving speeches encouraging others to do so, represents the will to change being co-opted and perverted by the conservative establishment. But its still a nice sentiment and a well made film regardless.

[galaxygolfergirl]

Things to make Attack of the Clones possibly a better movie

Stuff about Anakin

Anakin would take after Matt Lanter’s portrayal in the Clone Wars in terms of charm and personality, though not that Hayden Christensen doesn’t do a good job. Here me out; when not speaking that terrible dialogue, Haydensen brings the right amount of sensitivity, physicality, and frustration in Anakin’s evolving maturity. 

I’d like to think Anakin would be like a romantic-era poet in the body of a jedi (like a samurai John Keats?). After all, I can see some of Lucas’s intent with him spouting off that half-baked prose in the movies. When he’s Darth Vader, he does a better job with wordplay and Shakespearean themes. Anakin more likely resembles a Byronic hero, “Historian and critic Lord Macaulay described the character as ‘a man proud, moody, cynical, with defiance on his brow, and misery in his heart, a scorner of his kind, implacable in revenge, yet capable of deep and strong affection’”

In wooing Padme, Anakin has secretly been an avid scholar of galactic literature (reading stuff the Jedi order would frown upon) in hopes to try and meet her on her level and mature. He’s a fan of space fantasy novels (in the likes of Edgar Rice Burrough’s John Carter of Mars, but for Star Wars), and is a hopeful romantic. He wishes to explore more that the galaxy has to offer and feels constrained by the rigidity of the Jedi order. He and Padme connect on that level of Byronic romance.

As I said in my previous post, the age gap between Anakin and Padme is considerably smaller. (only about 3 years; he’s 23 and she’s 26)

Anakin is much less predatory around Padme than in the original film. I’d more rather have it that they’re both into one another but tragic pining ensues because they find out how much they get along after they’ve been apart.

I don’t know how to solve the mass murder of the tusked raiders scene; I wish it wasn’t there and I wish his mom didn’t get fridge as hard as she did

If there had to be a more docile option, maybe Anakin arrived on Tatooine and learned his mom died years before and he didn’t know about it until just then. It’s too literal to have him holding his dead mother in his arms, and I would think it’s much more cold and painful to learn that your loved one died years ago and you were unaware of it. 

His “early turn to the dark side” scene could involve him being more reckless and cutting down flesh and blood enemies during the arena scene, perhaps he kills Jango???

Stuff about Padme

Padme is much more proactive and #thatbitch when it comes to standing up against the rising imperial/fascist mentality within the senate, one of the reasons why some people might want her dead; make her AOC but in spaaaaaaaaaace

Darth Sidious wanted Padme killed for her opposition to the Military Creation Act which would allow the creation of an army to fight the Separatists for the Republic. Since Sidious was manipulating both the Separatists and the Republic, he put a bounty on Padme's head as Nute Gunray's grudge against her was powerful enough that he demanded her death as the condition for secession of the Trade Federation from the Republic

However, not only because of that, but also through her own investigative journalism, Padme discovers the Trade Federation’s shady business practices and ties to the growing separatist alliance and exposes this to the public, thus causing more of a demand for her death and exacerbation of tensions

She’s been having a hard time forming true relationships because of her position of power and being under public scrutiny all the time, thus after coming to respect and care for Anakin, resolves to minimize that scrutiny as much as possible

Stuff about Obi-wan

Jedi Mullet? I don’t think so. Make it more like this

(something a little less mullety, still luxurious, and he keeps the beard)

He’s not necessarily a paragon when it comes to no attachments, and he uses his attractiveness to his advantage and he knows it. 

Anakin does serve as his foil, but when he’s on his own it would be nice if he had a companion as well to mirror Anakin and Padme’s journey together. Perhaps an introduction of Satine, thus developing their relationship early on? A different female foil? Or just a buddy from work like Quinlan Vos? Idk.

He’s still in the sort of learning curve when it comes to being a master, and there can be a few times Anakin can prove him wrong. Obi-wan comes to respect his initiative by the end of the film and not be so critical of him (I mean Anakin had just lost an arm and all)

His relationship with Padme is still amicable, but meets a point of tension when discussing Anakin’s behavior and development. Their points of view differ when it comes to how Jedi can express themselves and she critiques some of the more questionable morals and practices of the Jedi

Things about the plot

Officials within the Republic government knew about the clones (and so did some Jedi). Palpatine organized a committee (engineering the pointless war behind the shadows) and they ordered the clone army after the whole Naboo crisis ten years prior to the events of Attack of the clones. Everyone knew tensions were brewing between the potential Seperatists and the Republic and the Republic wanted to beat them to the punch.

Which Jedi in particular knew? 

(Ooh! Ooh! What if some Jedi, even on the council, had already turned to the dark side and were working for Palpatine, and in the end by the time of Order 66 they help bring down the order, only to then be killed themselves by Palpatine and Vader (rule of 2)?)

The fight scene between Sidious and the jedi would have them turning against each other while Sidious finishes them off to show the ineptitude and corruption of the once pure Jedi order

Syfo Dyas was the Jedi ambassador to the senate and was convinced/manipulated to assist Palpatine; he helped order the clones and was ready to defend the republic, but when the full plot was revealed to him, he tried to make a run for it and tell the Jedi Order, only to end up assassinated. The order of the clone army a secret was kept until the Separatists fully declared war on the Republic. 

Count Dooku also knew when he was still a jedi and on the council. However, he had secretly turned to the darkside and was working for Palpatine/Sidious as a spy until he ultimately left the order to become the leader of the separatists. He had prior knowledge that Palpatine had engineered the war (note: an addition to my Phantom menace post, Syfo Dyas and Dooku would make appearances in Episode 1 to establish a precedent to the plot of this movie).

@whatlomalikes​  @cinna-wanroll​ y’all like Star Wars, right?

[ladywinchestersstudio]

From Cute to Creepy.

Probably my favorite thing to do is re purpose things I find in the store so I can make them my own style. Take these Easter signs and this guest room decoration.

Cute on their own right? However, they’re just not my style. So this is how I took them from cute to my style!

Supply List:

- Some signs. I found all three of these items at Michael’s. The Easter signs were 70% off and the cube was 50% off. You can use literally anything you see in the store, these are just a couple of examples.

- Chalk paint. I used the brand Waverly, specifically the white and the grey color called elephant (I got both from WalMart).

- Painter’s tape (or masking tape).

- Scrapbook paper/ cardstock in a print you like. I’ll have a link to where I got the patterns I picked once we get to that part.

- Mod Podge. Any finish will do, I have matte on hand.

- An electric sander or sand paper.

I started by using painter’s tape (you can also use masking tape) around the edges of the pink sign. I wanted to keep that pink color because it goes with what I’m going to use to cover up the image.

Just to make sure that the image of the chicks wouldn’t show through, I gave it 2 coats of white chalk paint. I love chalk paint because you don’t need a lot of it to cover up/ paint something plus it dries pretty quickly and matte.

Once I had my image sufficiently covered, I picked out what paper I wanted to use. I picked this one because it’s just one of the best images I’ve ever seen!

It’s perfectly dark and creepy with a dash of pretty flowers on it. I found it from THIS Etsy shop, which has been a GAME changer for me. I used to have to wait until Halloween when Michael’s gets all of their scrapbook paper in, but not anymore! I just selected the image I liked best (I found this one in the Pink Skulls Collection) and printed it out on some card stock paper I had on hand. I prefer card stock because it’s a little thicker (that’s what she said) than your regular printer paper.

To make sure the image would fit, I folded the paper to make creases where I wanted to cut. Normally, I’d trace out a pattern but this particular piece would not lay flat. Once I’d made the creases as defined as I could, I just cut along the lines and then checked it make sure it would fit, and trimmed off any excess.

Once I was happy with how it looked, I used some mod podge and a sponge brush to apply a thin layer on to the surface of the project and then placed the paper on top of it and smoothed it out to avoid bubbles.

There you have it; this is how the first one turned out! I think I turned out really cute and kinda creepy all at the same time!

For the second sign, I did the same thing I did in the first. I Taped off the edges and painted the image over with the white chalk paint to make sure it was covered up. Once the paint is dry, I peeled off the painter’s tape and then painted the edges of the project with this grey chalk paint. After 2 coats, I was pretty pleased with how it turned out! I wasn’t worried about the paint job being perfect since it would be covered up any way.

The paper I picked for this sign was from the same Etsy shop I linked above. This came from THIS collection. It’s from the Edgar Allan Poe section (I’m a NUT for all things dealing with him.)

Anyway, so I repeated the same steps as in the first project to get the paper to fit (creased and cut) and then this is how it turned out:

Can you guess which Poe tale this paper is from?

For the 3rd and final project, I wanted to recover this block I found. The first step though was to remove the rough texture from the block so that the paper would stick to the surface. 

I have an electric sander that I used, but any sand paper would do the job (I’m really impatient).

So, once I had the rough texture off, this is what I was left with.

I picked out some paper I liked to cover all of the sides of the box and, since this laid flat, I was able to trace out the size that I wanted and cut it out. I, once again, used mod podge and my sponge brush to spread a thin layer on to the side I was covering and smoothed it out as I went to avoid bubbles or wrinkling. 

I repeated this step until all of the sides were covered and this is how it turned out.

I couldn’t get enough of the Poe paper I found, so of course, I HAD to use this one one side of the project. 

Now, where you put these is completely up to you. All three of these pieces are currently on a shelf at work, and I’ve already gotten a few compliments on them!

Hope you guys enjoyed this first round of DIYs, thanks for following! If you want to be tagged in posts like this, just let me know! Thanks again for all of your support, it really means a lot to me!

DIYers:

@flamencodiva​ @sandlee44​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @algud​

[migleefulmoments]

“My Dear Friend, you realize a real wedding would have been planned a year in advance, hence giving people plenty of notice and time to plan if they indeed wanted to be present.” And she tagged it “debunking miarren lies” but I thought she didn’t read your blog lmao. She still fails to understand the people she thinks are Darren’s real friends are coworkers and 99% of pics they presented were work related. It’s so embarrassing.

Man oh man, the cup runneth over with their wedding-guest list angst. 

My Dear Friend, you realize a real wedding would have been planned a year in advance, hence giving people plenty of notice and time to plan if they indeed wanted to be present.

ajw720

How you continue to swallow dose after dose after dose of BS and lies is beyond my comprehension.

Since I have rational evidence for said dose, I’m not worried but thanks for the concern and back at ya. Although... since you have nothing but a gif and a prayer, I am actually really concerned about you.  But you do have a aggressive posse blowing lots of smoke so you’ll probably be ok. In fact, look here they are now ready to back-up the nonsense.      

cassie1022

I sent out a save the date a year in advance. Invitations went out about three months ahead of the date. People who want to share your day make sure they can do so. All of these people are wealthy enough to make that trip without feeling a pinch.

Good for you Cassie (clap clap clap). I bet everyone you know dropped everything to come to your nuptials. You were so thoughtful, scheduling your wedding on a date that everyone could come.  I cannot imagine the scheduling nightmare that was...did you send out “can you save the date” cards or did you go with “What dates are you available, we will get back to you soon” or did go with the more modern “Instastory poll?” You're so lucky that you didn’t know anyone who couldn’t make it cuz obviously you would still be holding a grudge all these years later. You are mad at PR Darren’s friends FFS and you were supposed to be proving THEY were his friends and not the people who were actually at the wedding.  Did you forget that you were claiming that Ricky Martin, Edgar Ramirez Kevin McHale , Jane Lynch, Alan Cummings, Matt Bomer, Matt Morrison, Elvis Duran, Jenna Ushkowitz, Lena Hall and Betsy Wolfe. I was arguing-with plenty of evidence- that his real friends are Ben Hudson, Pamela Aldon (she is Mia’s friend), the StarKids, Ricky Rollins, and Ashley Weston. They were all at the wedding because- as you said- if they wanted to be there they would have.  

ajw720

The wedding i was in this weekend conflicted with a major conference i was supposed to attend in Utah. I arranged for our Treasurer to attend in my place, because REAL LIFE is more important than almost anything. Again, while some people may have had opportunities they could not refuse, surely most could have arranged their schedule to be there.

Again, more evidence that your list of friends are not in fact his actual friends.  

#I hardly think a bachelor party'

#for a couple that would have known the date of the sham mockery before being engaged

#would have been scheduled to conflict

#there was not one excuse provided that to me was something that absolutely precluded the person unless they did not want to be there

#or they were univited

This is really not that complicated: the people on your friend list (Ricky Martin, Edgar Ramirez Kevin McHale , Jane Lynch, Alan Cummings, Matt Bomer, Matt Morrison, Elvis Duran, Jenna Ushkowitz, Lena Hall and Betsy Wolfe) are not his. closes friends. They were not invited to the wedding. Darren and Mia got to choose how many people they invited without fan involvement and they also got to choose WHO they invited. If they were trying to pull a scam, a sham wedding, they would have invited the very people you are claiming are their bffs- his PR friends (again for clarity, Ricky Martin, Edgar Ramirez Kevin McHale , Jane Lynch, Alan Cummings, Matt Bomer, Matt Morrison, Elvis Duran, Jenna Ushkowitz, Lena Hall and Betsy Wolfe) because those people who would garner them more wedding promotion. Clearly, Edgar Ramirez and Ricky Martin would get more media attention than Joey Richter and Ricky Rollins. They weren’t actually interested in media attention, they were interested  in celebrating with their family and close friends.

#I am sure that YOU would rather go to Darren Criss’s wedding than your actual fiancee’s bachelor party week but Elvis Duran made a different choice and you don’t actually get a say in it. For one- it’s history and two- you don't know any of the people involved and 3- he doesn’t care what you have to say.  

#being engaged for a long time doesn’t actually help people’s scheduling conflicts.  I know it is hard to imagine but Elvis and Alex also had to be sure their friends could go on the bachelors’ party week on that date...it’s is exponential. The world doesn’t revolve around Darren and Mia.  I understand that you believe this proves that those people weren’t invited but that means Darren and Mia invited their parents and siblings, Chord Overstreet, Harry Shum, Lea Michelle Max Adler, and the StarKids but protected Ricky Martin, Edgar Ramirez Kevin McHale , Jane Lynch, Alan Cummings, Matt Bomer, Matt Morrison, Elvis Duran, Jenna Ushkowitz, Lena Hall and Betsy Wolfe from the emotional upheaval of a sham wedding. That is #pathetic and #nonsense an #Desperate. 

#you might not have been impressed by the excuses but Betsy, Lena and Alan’s co-stars are very happy that they showed up to work that weekend and the people who bought tickets to the shows were even happier.  It isn’t really up to you to decide whether the excuse were important enough....they were ALL WORKING...AT THEIR JOBS and we know how much you respect hard work.    

#What is univited mean?  

[quitblow5-blog]

‘For artists, work ethic and intelligence are just as important as talent.’

Scroll through the blue-ticked Instagram accounts of most major-league US music executives, and you’ll tend to find the same old schtick: images of their artists playing career-boosting stages; flattering snaps of their newly decked-out office; a smattering of vacation/weekend shots accidentally-on-purpose showcasing that sleek second home in the Hills.

Mike Caren’s Insta feed, however, offers a little something more – a little something indicative of the inquisitive mind of the man himself. A swift perusal of Caren’s page throws up graphs, charts and textual provocations covering themes like ‘10 trends that will reshape the music industry’, how fast TV watching is declining amongst Millennials, the average ages of social media use in 2019, and the ‘share of ear’ that radio claims amongst US consumers over 13.

This all fits because Caren, as well as being obsessive about the A&R process, is also obsessive about media trends, and how consumption of everything from HBO to Fortnite and Instagram are munching into the daily music habits of today’s teenagers.

Such compulsive attention to detail is serving Caren’s businesses well. The Beverly Hills-raised exec founded Artist Publishing Group back in 2006, followed by the launch of Artist Partner Group in 2013. Warner Music Group and Atlantic Records, with whom Caren has worked for more than 20 years, injected a multi- million dollar investment into APG three years ago.

Since then, APG, which now employs more than 40 staff, has developed and broken stars including Bazzi, Charlie Puth, Kehlani, Kevin Gates and NBA Youngboy, as well as an electric array of songwriters such as Hitmaka, Yung Berg, Amy Allen and Madison Love.

Most recently, Los Angeles-based APG unleashed Ava Max, who hit No.1 in many territories this year including the UK, Sweden, and Germany with international smash “Sweet But Psycho”.

Caren began his career aged 17 with Atlantic Records, and later served as Co-President – alongside John Janick – of the relaunched Elektra Records (Bruno Mars, Ed Sheeran, Cee Lo Green) between 2009 and 2012.

MBUSA recently sat down with Caren within APG’s Fairfax studio complex to ask him all about his A&R philosophy, and where he sees the future of multimedia going in the next few years…

Tell us a truism about the music industry.

So much of what moves the needle in this business is just about listening – really listening. When a label or publishing exec has a 60 minute meeting with a producer or songwriter, once you’ve caught up with each other, you’re already 30 minutes into it, and only then do you start listening to music.

That leaves you 25 minutes to listen, and consider eight to 10 ideas. Then the meeting is over – and you haven’t even cracked the surface. If you’d allowed for 90 minutes of music, you would probably have found something really special.

So for that last 20 minutes, I might ask you to [hand over] everything you haven’t played me – whether you think I might or might not like it. Then I’m actually going to listen to it all and hear the stuff that other people don’t get to.

You employ more than 40 people at APG, and you’re expanding. Can you actively keep the roster here capped at certain size?

Yes. We started in the publishing world, where I felt that one A&R executive couldn’t really have a high impact on every one of their writers unless they were limited to approximately 10 writers.

I noticed that at most of the major publishing companies, when I talked to executives, their personal roster would be over 50 writers. I found it hard to believe that they would be able to deliver something significant for every writer with that roster size. Records is about a smaller amount of artists, but it’s also about building teams.

People with different perspectives, different skill sets all working together, learning from each other and bringing different things to the table. I work with people that have so much passion and intelligence and determination. This company is a sum of those parts. There’s 40 people here that have the impact of 150.

What would you say is the defining A&R philosophy of APG?

We believe that work ethic and intelligence are just as important as talent. A smart and hardworking creative will keep improving whereas someone without that work ethic or vision might creatively just tread water, or even decline in their quality.

“We work with [talent] for days, weeks or even months before we sign a deal.”

The biggest thing is getting to know writers and artists personally. We work with them for days, weeks or even months before we sign a deal. We will often lose a deal because somebody – after working with APG – is rushed elsewhere in the industry by a bidding war or whatever. And if that happens, it’s okay. It wasn’t meant to be.

Why is getting to know artists properly so important to you?

Ideally, you want to enter a relationship that’s a decade or decades- long. You can marry the first person you kiss, but I think it’s better to go on more dates and ask a lot of questions to see if your vision of the future is aligned. When you have tough conversations upfront, it leads to better conversations for years to come.

Give us an example of a tough conversation with an artist.

Those conversations revolve around expectations, timeline, patience, vision. I love artists that have huge goals and who know several moves they want to make to get there – who aren’t expecting to make it all in one single play. I love songwriters turning into artists too, because they’ve had this passenger seat in other artists’ careers to which they’ve contributed. The writer-turned-artist has seen other artists making tough decisions, and what the results were, which helps them avoid their own mistakes and pitfalls.

“If you just try to protect artists from making those mistakes, it doesn’t help, because when they become very successful, they will ultimately take all the big decisions; your job is to prepare them to make great ones.”

APG is the best at amplifying, investing in and turbo-charging artists who have a lot of ideas. And the best ideas always come from artists. It’s always better to let an artist make a mistake, because when a smart artist makes a mistake, they learn from it. If you just try to protect artists from making those mistakes, it doesn’t help, because when they become very successful, they will ultimately take all the big decisions; your job is to prepare them to make great ones. You can’t shelter talent early on, then expect people to act like an experienced artists when they’re successful.

How do you feel about the number of songwriters behind the majority of hits today?

The other day somebody sent me a video with Bob Marley, One Love and said, ‘What an incredible song and songwriter.’ I said, ‘Yeah, Curtis Mayfield was a fricking genius.’ They said, ‘Are you kidding? That song was written by Bob Marley!’ It’s a co-write. Curtis Mayfield and Bob Marley. And if Bob Marley can co-write, anyone can co-write.

One defining modern A&R trend is that of collaboration. Two people from largely different genres cross-pollinating fan bases. What do you make of that trend, and does it ever concern you?

I saw an exhibit of Picasso and Matisse years ago. They were friends and they did interpretive pieces of each other’s work. Their artistry was so clear when they did so. Anything that allows someone to demonstrate creativity and originality is an amazing vehicle – but the song [has to be] organic and creative.

Why did you started APG in the first place?

First, I had been working as an A&R person at Atlantic for 10 years. Having been in one company for so long, I wanted a different experience and I wanted an entrepreneurial experience.

I built a lot of trust at Atlantic, so they allowed me to create a partnership venture with them. But I operated it independently, and I love to experiment. Every session is an experiment; every marketing idea is an experiment; every day here is about experimentation.

“I had this philosophy, this is 15 years ago, that songwriters and producers are artists in their own right.”

And second, I had this philosophy, this is 15 years ago, that songwriters and producers are artists in their own right – and that a publisher could publish their songs and get them paid, but could also treat them as an artist and A&R them in that way, providing the introductions, the insights, and the resources that labels provide to artists.

It was a learning process because I didn’t know about publishing, and I didn’t have the budget to chase hits, so we had to be bold.

Why is so much A&R focused entirely on the new – the thrill of ‘breaking’ something?

Out of anything in this business, I get the most satisfaction from seeing other people with their first big successes: their first hit song; their first platinum record; their first sold out tour; their first song on the radio.

Every time a new artist, a new writer has an experience like that, it’s contagious. To me, that’s more powerful than congratulating someone on their fifth of sixth platinum album. It’s an honor to make music – it’s exciting and it’s an adventure.

I’m really proud of the artists and writers that have been successful, but I’m just as proud of the executives. That goes for the team here, but also people that have previously worked or interned here and moved on. I root for their success.

“Every time a new artist, a new writer has an experience like that, it’s contagious.”

Right now, I’m in awe of A&R moves from Miles Beard (pictured), Jeff Vaughn, Tizita Makuria, Eli Picarretta, Edgar Machuca, Matt MacFarlane, Lisa Mottahedeh, David Phung, and Dan Snyder, all of whom landed their first A&R roles here – several starting as interns or assistants – and all of whom have signed Gold or Platinum artists or writers, or had hits this year.

But I’m also thrilled to see fast career growth and broadening responsibility from vets that joined us such as Elyse Rogers, Angie Pagano, Mike Mathewson, Olly Sheppard, Jessica Kelm, and the list can go on. Fifteen years in, I look around and see our team members thriving, and people who’ve cut their teeth with us at pretty much every label, from A&R Executive to Chairman.

APG takes a white label approach with its artists – your brand is kept on the sidelines. Why?

We’re too broad to create a single, forward-facing brand. The great labels that I love had, and continue to have today, sonic consistency. They had a cultural voice and a specific niche, with a sound or a through line.

I lean in to creative people; we’re not going to not sign an artist just because they don’t fit in with other artists on our roster, or not work with an executive because they’re a certain type. There are no rules and no limitations to who APG works with. We just want to work with people for whom we can deliver more than anyone else out there.

Also, I love our entrepreneurial artists and I don’t want to take away from their opportunity to build their brand – both their artist brand and their company brand. I love it when an artist’s dreams include everything from festivals to clothing to charitable organizations. If I can help build an artist’s brand, it’s one more resource that we’re providing that I don’t think many others offer.

What makes a good artist manager?

One, they have to have enough experience to know that everything changes every year. Two, they have to listen to their artist but also speak the truth to them. And, of course, work ethic and intelligence are so important – especially the work ethic, because managers have to provide an example for their artist. Great managers are also great communicators; people who bring people together.

“there’s this ‘Napster Gap’, as I call it, 2002 to 2014, where only a few people invested into the business, and only a few people got hired – so there was not as much opportunity for mentorship for a lot of people versus what had come before.”

It’s a weird time for the music business because there’s so much opportunity now. But there’s also this ‘Napster Gap’, as I call it, 2002 to 2014, where only a few people invested into the business, and only a few people got hired – so there was not as much opportunity for mentorship for a lot of people versus what had come before. There are some incredible managers out there who are just so smart, and had to learn the game on their own.

The head of Netflix, Reed Hastings, said earlier this year that Fortnite was a bigger competitor to his company than traditional rivals like HBO. What do you make of the idea that other media is stealing attention from artists and music?

It’s something I think about a lot. I heard about something recently that said that Americans have over 11 hours a day of media consumption because of how much multitasking they do – like how they will play video games while listening to music. Their consumption is literally doubling.

I see incredible opportunity there, because if you work in the music business and you’ve never played Fortnite, you’re going to fall a few steps behind.

“If you work in the music business and you’ve never played Fortnite, you’re going to fall a few steps behind.”

How Fortnite makes its money is worth thinking about: the short windows of items being for sale; the opening for other platforms [as the game can be played across different devices]; the live events; how [Epic Games] updates and changes the game’s dynamic to keep things so exciting. There are so many amazing things to learn from it.

As far as competing in media, there’s going to be huge L.A. production competition. You have Netflix, Apple, Amazon, Hulu, Spotify and a bunch of other companies with endless amounts of money going to go into content production. It’s going to mean a whole new competition for creative talent, and it will be interesting. It could be incredible for talent – and it will definitely fortify L.A. as the creative capital of the world.

How do you counter that with the value of labels?

There’s no one-size-fits-all, right? Some people love business. Some people love managing people and administration. Some people love to be creative. Some people can do all of those things together. And there are some people who are just true artists who want to color outside the lines and break rules. They don’t want any of the administrative burden. They don’t want to reconcile tours, or deal with Social Security or 401ks, you know?

Some of that’s to do with different points in your life. You may be young; you may want to have fun and be creative and break the rules and not deal with turnover and all of these things. And later in your life, you may want to be more stationary and operate a company and a business. People just need to know what things entail.

“Staying independent is probably the right thing for a lot of artists and it’s probably the wrong thing for a lot of artists.”

There are an increasing number of artist managers who now say that running an independent operation for an artist isn’t ‘management’ – it’s a business partnership, so it shouldn’t be 15 or 20% commission, it should be 50% across everything, including touring. And that all depends on how much of an artist’s business is just music – whether they need a manager who’s just doing music, or managing several businesses.

Staying independent is probably the right thing for a lot of artists and it’s probably the wrong thing for a lot of artists. It all has to do with individual ambition, and how you actually want your 16 to 20 waking hours to be spent.

In an age awash with A&R data, how do you feel about the reduction in signings based purely on based on gut instinct?

I love data… partly because so much of the major label business is focused on it, which leaves all this open territory for us. But, also, I will say data can definitely show more than just momentum, it can reveal a pool of artists who didn’t wait for anyone to move their career forward, who got out of bed every day and worked hard to move the needle.

Somebody can tell me they’re going to work hard all day long, but an artist that had no resources that went out and built some fans? That’s someone you know wants it. I’ll never discount that, as work ethic is so essential.

Where do you get your work ethic from?

My mom’s creative. My dad’s organized. I love this job – this isn’t work, look how soft my hands are! The worst part of my job is sitting waiting for someone to show up who’s late. That’s it! And nowadays, I can always fill those hours by listening to music anyway.

I’m very sure you could have capably run an established major label group. Contemporaries like John Janick are doing it…

He’s awesome.

Why did you choose to build something from scratch, rather than run a big frontline label during this period of your career?

I don’t think anyone ever offered me a job that had the freedom that I now enjoy as an entrepreneur. As an industry, we need to empower people and trust them. There’s always a lot of oversight and structure in majors – and it’s probably needed. But now, we’re facing an ever-evolving future, we have to experiment and to do R&D.

“Change is inevitable. Change is good. But you have to try things in order to figure out what works with change.”

Change is inevitable. Change is good. But you have to try things in order to figure out what works with change. It’s inevitable that artists are going to change the way they make music and market music – and anyone who clings on to the past will get left behind. I love nostalgia like anyone else; we can still tell great stories of the good old days, but we have to be open to try new things all the time.

Let’s talk about the future, then. What are you excited about?

We are a very de-centralized company; I’m trying my absolute best to build the most entrepreneurial organization possible. I want everyone here to think like entrepreneurs, and to make decisions. I choose to run this company differently from, say, the way the legendary Clive Davis ran Arista. He’s incredible, but I hear he personally approved every piece of art and every mix.

Again, just like the artists here, everyone should be making decisions, seeing the results and learning from them. I want every executive I work with to feel that their career grew twice as fast in this organization than it did anywhere else.

What’s going to change at APG over the next five years?

We’re trying to reorganize the entire approach to being a global company. Many major labels don’t seem like singular global companies; they’re a bunch of companies, around the world, that license to each other. Spotify is a global company; they have editors in different offices, but they are a global company.

That’s something we’re a couple of steps ahead on and I don’t think it will take five years. I think it will happen way before then.

The above interview originally appeared in Music Business USA – MBW’s new annual magazine featuring some of the smartest people, with the best stories, in the Stateside music industry.

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Source: https://www.musicbusinessworldwide.com/for-artists-work-ethic-and-intelligence-are-just-as-important-as-talent/