#also whoo a lot of word dump

[signed-sapphire]

I would love to see you draw a scene from my rewrite!

Any scene that makes you feel inspired to draw it at all, can be between Asha and Aster or between Asha and the royals or Aster with the royals, whatever you feel more inclined to

(I’m kinda bad at being specific with art requests because I wanna make sure the artist is drawing something they wanna do lmao)

Hehe I had fun with this

This is a scene from “Kingdom of Wishes” Chapter 12– Magic Pencil btw 👍

Notes under the cut

So I was reviewing the official designs for Asha and Aster and realized I was drawing Asha’s hair wrong. Oops. So I drew her “correct” hair in her past version. Amazigh girls usually get their first tattoos during puberty, that’s why I didn’t draw Asha with hers yet.

Also I know Aster didn’t conjure up a little Asha in the story, but I wanted to draw past Asha. Got any guesses from where I got little Asha’s outfit from?

The glowing eyes of Aster’s… yeah they look a bit creepy. Idk. It’s a cop-out for drawing hands bc they are the worst Disney villain ever, so this way I don’t have to draw hands

[toomuchponytail]

Poisoned Hero #5

Here, as promised like a week ago (Sorry, I’m a bad goblin) part five of poisoned hero!

Continued from part one here (hero drugged at the club), part two here (The antagonist beats up some guys in an alley), part three here (The antagonist takes some risks to save hero’s life), and part four here (Where the hero wakes up and the antagonist is kidnapped). 

It really means the world to me that you guys are getting enjoyment out of my little labors of self-indulgent fantasy, and I’m feeling one more in this series(?!) if someone wants it? 

Whoo! 

I’ll admit I’m mad at this, I tried to make the words come out, but, ya’know...the words do what they want sometimes. Also, so long, I’m sorry! I’ve got a lot of words, they’re just not good ones...

Anyhoo, enjoy! I love you all so much. :,) 

Hero drummed his fingers anxiously on the van’s steering wheel, eyes trained to the entrance of the large abandon looking warehouse that the crime boss had told them to come to. Sidekick was seated in the back of the van, fiddling with the crime boss’s ring, out of sight so that no one would get suspicious. 

“They’re late,” hero grumbled, “I think we need to go in.” 

Sidekick hissed when they pinched their finger in the pliers for the fourth time, they looked up at hero sharply, “It’s only been twenty minutes, he’s making us stew on purpose.” 

Hero nodded but didn’t look convinced, stopping their incessant drumming to take a sip out of their water bottle, “I don’t like it though,” they muttered softly, “What do you think he’s doing to the antagonist in there huh?” 

Sidekick set the ring aside and took a deep breath, momentarily defeated by the odd locking mechanism, “We can’t know that, we only have what they sent you, don’t get bent out of shape before we know how bad it is okay?” 

Hero sighed, “You’re right,” they relented, “I’m just worried because if it’s some poison or something that was affecting them like that….Like pulsing with electricity or something, I won’t know what to do to help them,” hero threw up their hand helplessly, “I’m not a fucking chemist or whatever like them, I barely passed my chem labs.” 

Sidekick snorted, “If I hadn’t helped you you wouldn't have passed them at all,” then their expression sobered, they picked the ring back up, “We’ll figure out some way of helping them hero, okay? We can’t worry about things before they happen.” 

Hero nodded and went back to drumming and watching, a sick feeling growing in their stomach as the minutes ticked by with no appearance or message from the crime boss. 

No news is good news right? Hero uselessly tried to rationalize to themselves. 

“Got it.” Sidekick proclaimed, jolting hero out of their thoughts, they looked back to see Sidekick with the ring open in the palm of their gloved hand, a fine off-white powder spilling onto their palm. 

“What is it?--Damn it sidekick don’t breathe it in!” Hero exclaimed as sidekick took an exploratory sniff, “What if it’s poison?! Or cocaine?!” 

Sidekick shook their head, carefully taking an empty pill bottle and dumping the powder inside, “When you were out of it, The antagonist was doing all these tests to try and determine what you were dosed with, they told me it was very likely a new form of chemical weapon someone was interested in buying.” 

Realization washed over hero, “And the crime boss was here in town on business, he was supposed to meet with that CEO guy, the one who might be the Villain.” 

Sidekick didn’t say anything, their wide terrified eyes said all that they needed. 

“And..” Hero started again, his voice taking on a slightly haunted tone, “What are the odds that that is all he’s got of it?” Hero’s voice had dropped to a fearful whisper.

“I mean,” sidekick rationalized, “If you were selling something to a criminal you wouldn’t want to travel with your whole supply right? It would just get stolen, that’s why doing business with criminals is a hopeless venture,” they smiled in an almost self-satisfied kind of way, leaning back in the seat. 

“Yeah, well,” hero replied tersely, “Tell that to all of the hundreds of thousands of arms dealers and drug pushers huh? The criminal kingpins and gang leaders? Maybe they’ll buy your do-good-cause-crime-doesn’t-pay bullshit, because I won’t.” 

“Is it ‘cause you don’t have the money?” Sidekick smirked, winking at hero when he gaped for a moment at his partner. 

Hero huffed, they were on edge, it made them fidgety and irritable, they didn’t dignify sidekick’s comment with an answer, “We can’t afford to be wrong sidekick,” their voice approaching a whine, “what if the deal is going down right now? What if that’s why the crime boss isn’t here to make good on our deal?” 

Sidekick sat up, their eyes widening in worry, “That wouldn't be a bad idea hero, or, actually,  it would be a bad idea, a very bad idea.” 

Hero went back to watching the warehouse, resuming his tapping on the steering wheel in his I’m-working-out-a-problem pattern, sidekick recognized it from the nights of patrol when they’d gone over the chem lab homework. 

“We’ve got to do a sweep of the city hero,” Sidekick stated, their voice taking on a frantic edge, “If we’re right…” 

“If we’re  right we go in and free the antagonist before we do anything else,” hero said flatly, his fingers still working out his problem as well as the plastic-leather covering on the steering wheel, “They’ll get lost in the chaos, die before we can get back here, plus, we might need their help.” 

“But if we miss the trade off...you know how impulsive Villain is!” Sidekick squeaked, “If we’re right and the CEO is Villain, or even if he works for him, that means that he’s going to do whatever he’s planning to do in a matter of hours, remember the weaponized hornets?!” 

Hero shuddered at the memory, hand going unbidden to his left shoulder as if covering the ghost of a hurt there. 

The drumming stopped abruptly, hero turned to them and smiled brightly, a determination gleaming in their eyes, “We may already be too late,” hero was already pulling on his mask, readying himself to enter the warehouse, “Ready?” 

Sidekick sighed, “Sometimes I really regret signing my name next to yours on that blood pact we made as kids.” 

“Pretty sure that’s not a legally binding contract sidekick,” hero quipped, throwing open the door of the van and climbing out. 

“Whatever,” sidekick replied, following them, “My word is my bond.” 

“You sound like your dad,” hero responded knowingly, as they made their way to the rust colored door. 

Sidekick shrugged, “He had his moments…”

Hero scanned the building for cameras, finding none he put an ear to the door, “I don’t hear anything inside…” he muttered. 

Sidekick made quick work of the padlock, picking it effortlessly, hero shouldered the door open, glanced around quickly and nodded to sidekick, the duo entered the warehouse and let the door close behind them. 

It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the darkness. The main room was huge, like a hanger for a plane, completely empty, there was a staircase leading to an upstairs area and a rusty looking catwalk, a few doors lead off to what looked to be offices. 

“You take the left and I’ll start on the right,” hero offered, sidekick nodded and was off, flashlight already in hand. 

Hero didn’t risk the catwalk, the thick layer of dust over the rusted metal told them that the crime boss and his guys hadn’t either. 

Smart man. 

Hero opened the first door easily, but didn’t find anything except a folding card table and a single computer monitor and keyboard, if they thought they’d have the time hero would have liked to have broken into it, he was pretty handy with computers, but that was the rub wasn’t it? Being a hero seemed to mean always running out of time. They pulled the door shut behind them, shaking their head. 

“Hero?” Sidekick’s voice cut across the hallway, “I think you should see this.” 

Hero followed their partner’s voice to the first room on the left, another office, except this one’s contents were much more revealing, it was full of tables covered in a fine layer of an off-white powder, a mound of silvery bags of raw chemicals in the corner, hero didn’t need to know what they were, he recognized the skull and crossbones as a universal bad sign. 

“Shit,” he breathed, looking wide-eyed at the chemicals, covering his mouth and nose uselessly with his sleeve. 

Sidekick who was mirroring his reaction almost exactly did the same, “you see the blue prints?” 

Hero hadn’t, their own flashlight zeroing in on what sidekick was talking about, tacked up on a tattered cork board were the blueprints to the city’s water system. 

Hero sucked in a breath, “shit,” they said again, staggered by what this meant for the city his mouth suddenly dry as sand. 

“Remember the report we got last week?” Sidekick prompted, “About the odd activity at the water treatment plant? We ignored it because testing came back normal and that guy is always a little...off.” 

Hero nodded absently, studying the blueprints, there were a few black marks in a few alarmingly key spots, “He’s going to dose the whole city….Maybe he already has,” Hero murmured, horrified. 

“This was never about the ring was it?” Sidekick’s voice rang with desperation, “It was something to keep us busy so that the deal could go down without an issue.” 

Hero turned, “we’ve got to find the antagonist now.” 

“You think he’d help us?” 

Hero shook their head dismissively, “Even if he won’t, he’ll be able to tell us what we’re up against, if we can find him that is,” hero felt like he couldn’t look away from the blue prints, the city, his city, his chest felt tight, for a long moment he wanted to just close his eyes and unsee it, just climb into the back of the van and have sidekick push it into the river, he’d already failed, what if people got hurt? The police would never listen to him in time, they thought he was just a manic who ran around the city in a mask making trouble for them, maybe I am, he thought to himself. Is this my fault? Did I invite more crime into town by busting up smaller operations? Hero felt sick. 

“Three more doors to go hero,” Sidekick put his hand on hero’s shoulder comfortingly, “We’ll find him, even if we don’t, I’m here with you.” 

Hero let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, now was not the time for spiraling, he managed a wan smile that didn’t reach his eyes, his partner always knew what was going on inside of his head, “Let’s go.” 

Hero and sidekick split up again, hero’s heart filled with hope when he saw that the door he went to was locked, “Hey sidekick! Come help me with this!” 

Sidekick was at the door in record time, this lock was dealt with even easier than the padlock on the front door, and it swung open into a pitch black room. 

Hero shone his flashlight into the darkness, it looked bare, just an empty concrete room...then. 

“Pl-please...” A raspy voice begged from the darkness, “...T-turn the light off.” 

A chill prickled down hero’s arms, “Antagonist? Is that you?” Hero couldn’t be sure, the voice was more of a weak croak than anything...

“H-hero?” The voice wavered filling with desperate hope. 

 Hero turned off his light and stepped into the gloom, sidekick followed, shutting the door behind them, the dark was all encompassing, and in stepping from relative light to complete darkness hero and sidekick were immediately lost in it. 

“I’m here,”Hero answered,”where are you?  he found himself whispering, it felt more natural in the darkness. 

“The...vial,” The antagonist started in bitter desperation, “There’s a vial,” he groaned, “On the desk, it’s the...It’s the antidote,” there was a sound like metal scraping concrete, chains? Hero thought it was chains, sounding like the worst sort of bells he’d had ever heard. 

Hero swallowed, no time to panic, feeling his way across the room he stumbled once, loosing his balance in the dark, but sidekick was right by his side, grabbing him and keeping him from falling. 

After a few moments of blind groping hero found the desk, another moment after that his hand closed over a syringe. 

“Got it,” hero affirmed, somewhere the antagonist made a soft choked sound in the dark. 

Hero crouched to the floor and felt along the concrete until he found the chain, using his fingers to ‘see’ he followed the chain to the person at the other end, he realized as he got closer to the antagonist that he could have skipped feeling along the chain and just followed the sound of the antagonist’s labored breathing. 

The antagonist gasped when hero’s fingers brushed the back of his hand, “s-sorry, jumpy.” 

The antagonist seemed to be on the concrete, curled in on himself, hero could feel the heat radiating off of him from where he was crouched next to him. 

“I-inject me…” the antagonist commanded weakly, “Please, I-I can’t last much longer li-like this…” 

Hero frowned in the dark, “What if this is some poison instead of the antidote? What if it kills you?” 

Hero felt the antagonist’s hand close in a vice-like grip on his wrist, “Then we hope it’s faster than this,” their voice was hollow, full of bitterness, “Quick hero, I can’t stand it.” 

“What if I kill you?” hero insisted, already readying the syringe. 

“I’ll get over it,” the antagonist promised. 

Hero took a deep breath and injected the solution into the antagonist’s arm, sight unseen, the antagonist let out a tremulous breath when it was over. 

“What now?” Hero asked. 

“Just..just wait a minute,” The antagonist didn’t explain anymore, he sounded exhausted and in pain, hero wanted to be able to get a better look at him, in the dark like this it was impossible. 

A few long minutes passed, hero realized he was still holding the antagonist’s hand, he thought about pulling away, but the antagonist hadn’t pulled their hand away either, so they figured that it was alright. The antagonist's breathing slowed and evened out eventually, hero could almost feel him relax, all the pain fueled tension dissolving.  

“Hero? Still alive over there?” Sidekick’s worried voice cut across the gloom, hero thought that they had a right to be worried. 

“Yep,” hero replied, “if this is what passes for life nowadays.” 

“You two are adorable,” The antagonist noted, his voice was still weak and raspy, “Although I can’t help but wonder if I would have been rescued ages ago if the daring duo were a little more focused on heroism and less on poorly timed comedy.” 

“And he’s back,” hero noted dryly, then he sobered, “Can we turn our lights on now do you think?” 

“I think I can handle it,” The antagonist answered, abeight, a little hesitantly. 

Hero flicked on his flashlight, turning to the antagonist to see his reaction, while he squinted sensitivised eyes against the light he didn’t look like it was affecting him too badly, hero nodded at sidekick who turned his light back on as well and made his way over to join hero on the floor. 

Hero glanced the antagonist over in the light of sidekick’s flashlight beam, he was leaned up against the wall, chained to the floor by his left wrist, it was bloody and bruised, like he’d tried to yank it out of the shackle, but, other than that he didn’t look physically injured, he just looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in weeks. His normally sharp bright eyes dull and bloodshot, dark circles that looked more like bruises underneath them, he was shivering, even in the heat of the room, hero wondered if it was a result of whatever he’d been poisoned with. 

The unlikely trio looked at each other for a long moment. 

“So…” Antagonist started, his teeth chattering, “He’s got access to something that interferes with a body's electrical impulses, it makes all stimuli extremely painful, pretty sure it’s mixed with a lot of stimulants, I don’t know if that’s necessary to the mix or was to keep me awake.” 

“But you’re alright?” Hero asked concernedly searching the antagonist's face, “The antidote worked?” 

“I think so, the pain is gone, but, who cares about that? In high enough doses I think it would overload pain receptors, maybe even kill someone,” they sighed shakily, “I would have thought it was pretty cool except--” 

Sidekick interrupted them with a hug, the antagonist stiffened, their brain seemingly fried by the ambush, “we’re glad you’re okay, we were worried,” sidekick’s voice was too close to their ear, the antagonist knew he should have pushed sidekick away, said something sarcastic, but their eyes found hero instead, they were suddenly aware that hero was still holding their hand, it was warm and solid, real, hero’s was smiling, they were relieved, it was as plain on their face as the streaks of dust. 

The antagonist didn’t understand, but their available arm slowly wrapped around sidekick, hugging them back, when sidekick let go, the antagonist noticed that their chest burned, but they dismissed it as a possible side effect. 

“Let’s get you out of here,” Sidekick went to work on picking the lock that was keeping the antagonist chained to the floor, gentle where the antagonist’s wrist had met the unforgiving metal. 

“What happened?” Hero asked quietly. 

The antagonist looked away, “I was jumped, common criminal move, they got my watch off of me too fast for me to use it.” 

“The crime boss?” 

“His “people” sure,” the antagonist rolled his neck, spell seemingly broken, he pushed himself off of the wall and sat up, the trembling was easing, but it was leaving behind an unnerving weakness, “they got me here, laughed at me when I told them you and I were enemies, and then he injected me with something….It wasn’t fun.” 

“Were you in that white room?” Hero asked, unable to help himself, “everything just sort of melt around you?” 

The antagonist shook his head, “No,  it was like I was on fire. All of my nerves sizzling under my skin,” The antagonist shrugged, “Later he gave me something else, paired with an electrical current to exacerbate it, but no white rooms.” 

Sidekick gently pulled the shackle open, the antagonist cradled his injured wrist against his chest. 

“Can you stand?” Hero asked. 

The antagonist looked at him sheepishly “I can try,” hero helped him to his feet, he managed to stand for a moment before his knees buckled, the muscles in his legs trembling and aching like he’d been running for days. Hero caught him easily, looping the antagonist’s arm around his shoulders, “Whoa! Got you,” he smiled without even a hint of mockery, “Sidekick, can you get his other side?” 

Sidekick obliged, taking the antagonist’s other arm, together the three of them walked out of the dark room where the antagonist had been kept prisoner. 

They started for the stairs, “Wait,” the antagonist interjected, “Aren’t you going to show me the room with the pounds of drugs?” 

Hero and sidekick exchanged a look. 

“What?” The antagonist was getting tired of not being in the loop.

“The room’s empty, all we found were the packaging materials,” hero admitted, shifting to get a better hold on the antagonist, impatient to get going. 

“We have a sample, but otherwise it’s just the bags like the ones in your lab,” sidekick added. 

“Wait,” the antagonist started, “The drugs are gone? Like ‘in the wind’ gone” Their voice had risen in panic, “Like the crime boss has taken them to sell gone?” 

“Yeah,” sidekick swallowed, “about that.” 

“I hate to ask this considering your state but we think that the Villain is planning on dosing the city by dropping the drugs in the water, and if you feel up to it we’d like your help...again,” hero added uneasily. 

The antagonist looked from hero to sidekick and back again, he took a measured breath, hero couldn’t help feeling concern wash over him, the antagonist looked worse out here in the light, his skin had taken on a grayish tone, and he seemed to be fading by the minute now that the stimulant’s properties were wearing off, “Alright,” he agreed, “But if we’re going to make a difference at all, we’ve got to hurry, I’m crashing, after I pass out I’ll be no use to anyone for hours.” 

“By then it’ll be too late,” hero whispered, already starting to move again. 

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” the antagonist agreed.

[virtual-toast]

Scream Queens VH1 recap - Season 1 Episode 2

Michelle, Sarah, Kylah, and Jessica come back from the grand ballroom and the rest of the girls are shocked and/or pissed that Jo-Anne went home instead of Kylah. Lindsay says “This house will mourn the loss of Jo-Anne” and Sarah, in tears, calls her “such a sensational actress”, which are both super melodramatic reactions, you knew Jo-Anne for three days, but okay. Meanwhile Kylah has no idea why everyone is upset that she’s still there haha.

The following day sees Kylah declaring the house has been divided into the “queen bitches” (herself, Michelle, Lina, and Angela) and the “more homely girls” (Marissa, Lindsay, and Sarah). I’m assuming she’s put Tanedra and Jessica in the latter category too but she doesn’t mention them specifically. The bitchy girls talk shit about the other girls behind their backs, specifically about how they think Sarah didn’t deserve to win the previous episode, that she’s ugly and annoying, etc.

The girls meet up with Shawnee who tells them they have 15 minutes to dress themselves up and impress a casting director (Kelly Wagner, who seems pretty cool tbh) with the winner getting a guaranteed callback. While getting ready, Michelle and Angela mention that if the winner is not one of the bitchy girls, the competition must be rigged. An awful lot of confidence for week 2, lol.

The girls go back into the room with Shawnee and meet Kelly. They take turns doing a sort of one on one interview / audition, which I’m gonna summarise in dot points because they each get a small amount of screen time:

Lindsay talks about being a child actor and Kelly says that means she probably actually has a harder job than someone just starting out. Lindsay is wearing a weird sort of frilly top and skirt with polka dots but it somehow doesn’t really work for her shape, and Kelly mentions it as well as Shawnee straight up calling her frumpy. True, but also, rude.

Lina goes up and immediately shakes Kelly’s hand. She doesn’t even get a word out before Kelly is like “yeah no, don’t shake casting directors’ hands, personal space / germs” etc.

Kylah talks about playing Price is Right with her brother which Kelly says is a bad choice because she’s automatically associating herself with being a model rather than an actress. Kylah proceeds to mention that she wants to “get ugly, get dirty, like Halle Berry did in Monster.” cringe

Marissa gets up and starts off on this huge spiel about how horror films are like modern Greek tragedies and everyone is just staring at her like GIRL WHAT.

Michelle introduces herself and Kelly asks if she primarily does theatre because of her big personality. Michelle proceeds to brag about being Miss Teen Texas.

Jessica is wearing a smart-casual outfit of jeans and a simple white top with her trademark giant hoop earrings. Kelly comments on her look being unique. Jessica is kinda speaking like a cute little girl who doesn’t want to let the evil out??

Angela mentions how she thinks she has the stereotypical horror “look”. Her outfit isn’t relevant but I have to mention it anyway - it honestly looks like she cut the top off a blue evening gown to wear as a shirt?? and then just jeans. Like idk.

Sarah introduces herself and Kelly immediately comments on her unique nasally voice.

Tanedra tells Kelly that she has no formal training. Kelly says “And you think you can beat out all these girls?” and Tanedra’s like YES. Fuck yeah get it girl.

So Kelly goes ahead and gives her overall impressions - Kylah has no personality, Angela has the best horror look, Lindsay looks like the best friend rather than the leading lady, Marissa is the one she didn’t remember, and she liked Jessica’s personal style. Ultimately she gives Jessica the guaranteed callback, and also sends Lindsay and Marissa for makeovers which Michelle finds hilarious.

The girls go back into the house and Kylah proceeds to have a tantrum about not winning, stating that if the casting director was a man the results would have been different. But get this, she DOES NOT CHANGE EXPRESSION THE ENTIRE TIME. Even when she’s yelling “I’M ABOUT TO CRY” she literally just has this blank look on her face like is she actually made of wax?? Meanwhile Lindsay and Marissa have their makeovers, Lindsay gets a cool short reverse A-line bob cut and looks really badass, while Marissa gets her hair dyed jet black and cut in choppy layers. It looks fine but you can tell by her face Marissa is not happy.

The girls go to Homa’s class and since the week is all about first impressions, they have to do freeze frame shots of particular expressions, I guess so they can see what they actually look like vs. what they think they look like or something. Most of the girls do pretty well, Tanedra kills it again, Marissa bombs, and Kylah once again LITERALLY DOES NOT CHANGE EXPRESSION. What the fuck.

Back at the house the girls are all gushing over Lindsay and Marissa’s makeovers, Michelle voices her jealousy despite earlier thinking it was hilarious, and Angela is mad that she’s no longer the only one with her “look”, even though she and Marissa don’t look the same at all, the only similarity is the colour of their hair?? Marissa goes and has a cry about her hair because she’s now lost all her confidence and honestly it’s actually kinda sad / hard to watch.

The next day they find one of the rooms in the house has been filled with creepy dolls and of course one of them is actually a person that jumps out and scares them because omg what a funny prank haha. The “doll” tells them their director’s challenge is a photoshoot which many of the girls are stoked about. They’re basically given generic horror themes and have to shoot the poster. Dot points again!

Lina gets “Tie Die” and her costume is literally a length of rope that’s wrapped around her. She immediately cracks the shits and goes into full blown diva mode, complaining about her costume, how apparently difficult her theme is compared to other girls, telling the makeup and hair people how to do their jobs, etc. Whaaaaat, Lina is a bitch?? This is brand new information!! Unfortunately she still does a really good job with the photoshoot.

Lindsay gets “Blinded By the Fright” and her costume is a hospital gown and white contact lenses, which she has difficulty putting in but is EXTREMELY polite about it with the makeup lady (a nice juxtaposition to Lina’s bitch fest). Lindsay also does really well in the photoshoot.

Kylah gets “Thin Skin” which she comments sounds like a porno, lmao. Her costume is literally just black liquid latex painted all over her body and the other girls are fucking FROTHING with jealously. Kylah proceeds to completely bomb the challenge, giving absolutely no emotion and James literally has no idea how to direct her.

Michelle gets “Don’t Go in the Water” and is basically just wearing a bikini, but then James dumps a bottle of cold water all over her. She does really well in the photoshoot.

Sarah gets “Blood Skate”, her costume is just a bloody ice skating outfit, and she does okay.

Tanedra gets “Prom Scream”, she is wearing a bloody prom dress, and she does really well.

Jessica gets “The Butcher’s Girl” and she’s literally wearing a hat, gloves, no shirt, just an apron and shorts? And there’s blood? This one confuses me. She does okay.

Angela gets “Monster’s Wedding” which some of the other girls (correctly) complain is SUPER easy - she’s literally in a wedding dress posing with a bloody hand prop. She does fine but I mean all she has to do is stand there and smile??

Marissa gets “Mummy Maker” and she’s wrapped in what I assume are bandages but it looks like toilet paper? She’s pretty covered, including the bottom half of her face, and she’s supposed to be seductive but honestly it kinda just feels like an awkward interpretive dance??

The next day back at the house, Marissa vents to the other girls about her insecurity with her new hair. Like I know it’s just hair but it’s kinda sad, they completely changed her look which obviously fucks with her confidence. The girls get their photoshoot posters and everyone is stoked except Marissa (rightfully) and Lindsay, who basically has an anxiety attack and hates hers even though everyone is telling her how great it is. Whoo boy I relate to Lindsay so hard. Jessica reads the list which summons Marissa, Kylah, Lindsay, and Lina to the grand ballroom. They all think they’re at the bottom except Lina, who of course thinks she’s top shit.

In the grand ballroom, Lina gets pulled forward and despite doing well in the challenge, the judges straight up read her for being a bitch, which is hella satisfying let me tell you. Lindsay gets pulled forward and the judges tell her that she did an awesome job and that she needs to go easier on herself, before awarding her the week’s leading lady. Marissa and Kylah are predictably the bottom two, Marissa gets told she’s overthinking everything and Kylah just that she’s completely emotionless. Kylah gets the axe and Marissa lives another week.

Stay tuned for Season 1 Episode 3!

[nerianasims]

Billboards #1 1965

Under the cut.

Petula Clark – “Downtown” -- January 23, 1965

I love this song to bits. I don't entirely know why. Petula Clark obviously sings it wonderfully. There's that little bell that sometimes chimes in. There's a pattern to the song that makes it feel like Broadway, which is, of course, downtown. It's a fantasy version of a downtown in a big city. One thing I love about fantasy is a sense of place, and that's what this entire song is dedicated to. It's an unusual subject for pop music, and it's great.

The Righteous Brothers – “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling” -- February 6, 1965

How does one even talk about this song? It feels somehow eternal. This is Phil Spector's production at its best. But Bill Medley's singing is the point. This song is one of the greats.

Gary Lewis And The Playboys – “This Diamond Ring” -- February 20, 1965

Gary Lewis is Jerry Lewis' son. Unlike his father, he does not consist entirely of annoyance-producing molecules, but the song's not good either. In it, the guy's fiancee dumped him and he's selling the diamond ring. A boring, bland heartbreak song that belongs three years or so back.

The Temptations – “My Girl” -- March 6, 1965

My mom used to sing this song to me when I was a little kid. I think a lot of parents sing this song to their little girls; it's that kind of love song. Yet it's not irritatingly antiseptic. It's about true love. True love can be a lot of things. This song is every superlative you can think of. Brilliant in every aspect.

The Beatles – “Eight Days A Week” -- March 13, 1965 

It's a good, but not great, Beatles song. Very fun, with a lot of interesting things musically, like the bassline (as usual) and whatever George Harrison does with his guitar.

The Supremes – “Stop! In The Name Of Love” -- March 27, 1965

Finally, Diana Ross actually sounds kinda pissed off. It's also got more of a rock edge. She's still begging, and not threatening to leave the guy's cheating ass. Yet, though there is no explicit threat, I feel like there is an implied ultimatum here.

Freddie And The Dreamers – “I’m Telling You Now” -- April 10, 1965

It sounds like this guy is exaggerating his English accent. Considering the British Invasion, probably. He cackles like a monkey on acid, which is the only interesting thing about the song, which is otherwise a bland love song. Though the cackle is interesting, that doesn't make it good. It's creepy. I don't like this one.

Wayne Fontana & The Mindbenders – “The Game Of Love” -- April 24, 1965

"The purpose of a man is to love a woman, and the purpose of a woman is to love a man." Whoo boy. Dated. But the song is 55 years old. Attempting to put that aside, the music is good. The lyrics sound pushy, though. Also it gets terribly repetitive at the end. Meh.

Herman’s Hermits – “Mrs. Brown, You’ve Got A Lovely Daughter” -- May 1, 1965

Was it once usual for guys to go to their ex-girlfriends' mothers to talk of their heartbreak after the girlfriend dumped them? This song is painfully "look how English I am! You Americans like to throw money at English pop singers, right?" It wears out its welcome quickly.

The Beatles – “Ticket To Ride” -- May 22, 1965

It's interesting how the Beatles seem to have matured five years in one. I can't imagine this group having performed "I Want to Hold Your Hand." The harmonies and rhythms in "Ticket to Ride" are far more complex, the sounds are more varied, and the lyrics are much more mature. His wife/girlfriend is absolutely determined to leave him, and he seems taken by surprise. Yet there are hints he shouldn't have been: "She would never be free when I was around." He goes on, "My baby don't care." Yet underneath there's the suggestion that she simply hasn't got it in her to care any more, because he's exhausted her. Layers of harmony and layers of meaning. It's an intelligent heartbreak song, and those are rare.

The Beach Boys – “Help Me, Rhonda” -- May 29, 1965

I know Brian Wilson was a musical genius but I usually don't like the Beach Boys. It's the lyrics. The narrator was dumped, now he's begging Rhonda to be his rebound. Lucky Rhonda. Then they sing "Help me Rhonda/ Help, help me Rhonda" about five dozen times. Not for me.

The Supremes – “Back In My Arms Again” -- June 12, 1965

Urgh. Don't listen to the Supremes' #1 hits close together. She's got her man back because she stopped listening to her friends' advice. In isolation, there's nothing wrong with that. After all the songs about rotten cheating assholes whom the narrator is desperate to keep, though, it's super uncomfortable. Also using the names of the two backup singers as the friends who give bad advice is in poor taste. And "Flo, she don't know, cuz the boy she loves is a Romeo"? You solely date Romeos! Taken alone, without the context of the other songs, it's good, though I still don't like the strange insult toward the backup singers. Taken with the rest of the Supremes' hits, though, I'm not happy. Especially considering these were all written by men.

The Four Tops – “I Can’t Help Myself (Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch)” -- June 19, 1965

The Supremes weren't the only people in Motown singing about being hopelessly in love with someone who treated them badly. That's what this song is about. I like it, though the line "I'm weaker than a man should be" is a bit wince-inducing these days. But it's an honest sentiment about how men often feel they're not allowed to be idiots over love, though that's a near-universal human experience. Anyway, good song.

The Byrds – Mr. Tambourine Man -- June 26, 1965

The original version of this song was by Bob Dylan, but the Byrds didn't like it, so they changed the sound and ditched a bunch of the lyrics. The lyrics they were left with don't matter at all. This is all about the music, especially the guitar. It's mellow without being soporific, groovy without requiring drugs to understand. It's nice.

The Rolling Stones – “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” -- July 10, 1965

The Rolling Stones were almost never nice. They went straight for the gut -- or gonads -- found all the nastiest things that people are afraid to say and embarrassed to feel, and hung them up on the front porch. "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" sounds kind of silly today, since it's been played and overplayed so much. But that beginning riff still goes straight to the back-brain.

Two years before, pap like "Hey Paula" was clogging the airwaves. Funnily enough, it's the same subject matter: Goddamn I want to get laid. (The idea that Mick Jagger had trouble getting laid is pretty ridiculous, but anyway.) And then there's the critical bit about hating advertisements. They managed to stick a cultural criticism into a song that's about wanting sex. When you can't get no satisfaction, everything is annoying, and things that were already annoying to begin with start to feel unbearable. The Stones go harder in every way than any #1 before them.

Herman’s Hermits – “I’m Henry VIII, I Am” -- August 7, 1965

And here's the opposite. This song must be meant to be annoying, right? One of my friends and I used to sing it at our parents to drive them nuts, and that was before Ghost. It was their fault for exposing us to it in the first place.

Sonny And Cher – “I Got You Babe” -- August 14, 1965

Cher with Sonny is eternally confusing. Though their marriage didn't last, their love was real, and Cher was heartbroken when Sonny died. But anyway, the song. Sonny saying Cher has a "little hand" is goofy. Actually the whole song is kinda goofy, especially the beat that seems to be made of kazoos. Cher's got this powerful, deep voice, while Sonny has a squeaky little thing, but somehow they mesh. The sentiment is sincere, and a good picture of what it's like to be in a happy relationship. It's good.

The Beatles – “Help!” -- September 4, 1965

John Lennon was only 25 when he sang about being "younger, so much younger than today." But for the Beatles, that could have been two years before. They got so famous so fast and so young, I don't know how any of them lived through it. And that is what this song's about; Lennon called it a "public freak-out." But it's still universal. I love this song, and it helped carry me through some tough times.

Barry McGuire – “Eve Of Destruction” -- September 25, 1965

I remember when I first heard this song on the radio in the car with my mother, I asked her what "Old enough to kill/ But not for voting" meant. That's when I learned people used to not be able to vote until they were 21, though young men could be drafted at 18. I was absolutely stunned, and obviously it stuck with me. When you're a little kid, you tend to think the people in charge are generally fair. Then you find out that's not true at all. That's what this song is about, to me.

The McCoys – “Hang On Sloopy” -- October 2, 1965

Speaking of fair, I'm about to be totally unfair. I hate this fucking song. I had to play it endlessly in middle school band, and then I had to play it AGAIN in high school marching band. And the flute part in the arrangements was the most boring thing that has ever been conceived. I hate this song and I will not be listening to it or thinking about it more than this.

The Beatles – “Yesterday” -- October 9, 1965

Why do people in songs lose their significant others so often because they said something wrong and they don't know what it was? That can't be common. Anyway, this song is beautiful and sad. I'm kind of tired of all the covers of it though.

The Rolling Stones – “Get Off Of My Cloud” -- November 6, 1965

I'm listening to the original mono version of this, and mono sounds very strange these days. I keep wanting to check that my speakers are plugged in. Anyway, thanks to Jagger's marbles-in-mouth singing, I can't understand a word of this song except "Hey! you! get off of my cloud!" and I've never known the lyrics until now. And they're not important. Even the chorus isn't that important. This is all about the beat and the music, neither of which I find interesting for the entire length of the song. Not for me.

The Supremes – “I Hear A Symphony” -- November 20, 1965

A thoroughly happy Supremes song! I think Diana Ross is more suited to happy lovesongs than what she had been singing. She has a lot more emotion in her voice than she has before. The violins are lovely. I love this song.

The Byrds – “Turn! Turn! Turn!” -- December 4, 1965

I have always found this song slightly annoying. The Bible verse set to light pop thing doesn't do it for me. The music isn't anywhere near dramatic enough. This should be operatic, or heavy metal, or something else with serious weight. This is thin.

The Dave Clark Five – “Over And Over” -- December 25, 1965

This song is a bit of a throwback to three or four whole years before. It would have been good then. At this point, it's pretty boring. It's about going to a party he didn't want to go to, hitting on a girl, and getting turned down. The snare drum beat is very repetitive, and so is the melody. A big meh.

BEST OF 1965: "My Girl", with stiff competition.   WORST OF 1965: "I'm Telling You Now"

[even-love-unreturned]

Ok I’m going to word vomit for a bit cause I haven’t slept in over a day lol and I’ve thought about this a lot, and recently after the LBotW cover+synopsis came out it’s been back on my mind.

So I’d always just accepted without question that yeah Jem grew up in China and speaks Mandarin Chinese, and his dialogue in Mandarin is always spelled out in standard pinyin ok ok not much to question there. But the last time I reread TID it finally came to me that, wait a second, Jem grew up in Shanghai.

In the 1860s.

Someone from a Shanghainese family in the 1860s would not grow up speaking speaking Mandarin, they would be speaking Shanghainese. This means Jem’s mother was originally from another city? In fact, I’d really like to ask Cassie which regional variant of Mandarin does Jem speak, and how is he finding speaking the language in modern day China? I’m intrigued!! What is it going to be like in LBotW, seeing him in his hometown where he grew up not speaking the local language?? Aaaaah

More linguistic and historical pedantry and word vomiting under the cut sdjfkjd:

Obviously, for modern readability, none of TID/TLH era characters are going to speak in exactly the way they used to in their historical time periods. However, the point remains that there’s been far fewer changes in regional speech in England than there’s been in China in the last 150 years. And there’s far less regional difference of language/dialect in England than in China, too.

Modern Mandarin didn’t come into widespread usage in Shanghai until the mid 20th century, when the Beijing variant of Mandarin was voted to become the new standard language, and the government instructed schools to start teaching in Mandarin rather than the local regional dialects.

There were other regional dialects of Mandarin that were in wide usage at canon’s time period, too, particularly the Southwestern variant. (In fact, outside of standard Mandarin, Southwestern Mandarin remains the regional dialect with most speakers to this day.)

However, few people in Shanghai in the 1860s would know how to speak Mandarin, any variant of it. To be able to communicate with those from other areas, businessmen and government officials, perhaps, would learn the Beijing guan hua (官话, literally translating to “official-speak”) that would become standard Mandarin. The average person though, would speak only the regional Wu language, more commonly referred to as Shanghainese. Others who spoke Mandarin had to have moved to Shanghai from elsewhere.

The difference between Mandarin and Shanghainese is not like just, say, Yorkshire English compared with American West Coast English. As Jem himself says in CP, Shanghainese is practically unintelligible to someone who speaks Mandarin (which is to be expected, cause it’s literally a different language). And even the difference between Standard Mandarin and Southwestern Mandarin is pretty huge - it would also be hard for speakers to understand each other. (My dad’s side of the family speaks Southwestern Mandarin in the Chongqing dialect, and whoo boy it’s so different I still have a hard time understanding them when they talk)

The Mandarin Jem speaks is essentially just the standard Mandarin nowadays. I’m assuming Cassie just defaulted to the standard Mandarin, because 1) there isn’t really any standardized romanizations of the regional dialects or languages so it’d be harder for the wider audience to understand if she tried to regionalize Jem’s speech and 2) I honestly just don’t think she wanted to put in that much effort lol and her translators seem to just know Mandarin (though perhaps not that well, considering the mistakes and anachronisms and just like, the overall weirdness of Jem’s Mandarin in the books to me, but I digress).

What that means for me - in terms of understanding Jem as a character and headcanons and what-if’s for AUs even:

So we know Jem’s family moved to Shanghai (from London implied) because Jonah was offered the job as head of institute (and btw what’re his qualifications, why this random white Englishman for the Shanghai institute???) Jem learned Mandarin from his mother, which means his mother is likely originally from somewhere that spoke Mandarin. Maybe Beijing? (I remember Jia Penhallow nee Ke is from Beijing, right?)

Because if Wen Yu did speak Shanghainese, why wouldn’t she teach her son, when they had no reason to believe they would ever move away from Shanghai? Was Beijing Mandarin then already the shadowhunter standard in China long before the mundane government standard? If it gets clarified in LBotW that Wen Yu is from Shanghai but somehow she doesn’t speak Shanghainese then Cassie better give me a good explanation lol

But what of Jem’s tutors when he was growing up? Did they know how to speak Shanghainese? Did Jem pick up bits and pieces of the language, did he eventually gain a passing understanding of it despite not being able to speak it?

What would it mean for Jem if he actually full on cannot speak or understand Shanghainese, growing up in a city that spoke pretty much only that language? He wouldn’t be able to roam the city or visit markets or converse with local mundanes. He wouldn’t be able to connect. It would make for an even more isolated childhood, on top of being the only child around.  There’d be a huge disconnect there, even more than him in London with British mundanes. It would also add different meaning to when he thinks about missing his hometown. What does he miss? The buildings, the scenery, the food. But not the people then. And it would mean more shadowhunter aloofness toward mundanes. What would that say about Jem’s upraising and personality development?

Other option: What if Jem is able to understand Shanghainese though can’t speak it? Who would he have learnt it from - a tutor, local Shanghainese shadowhunters, local mundanes?

Jem learned many languages while he was a Silent Brother (I think is what’s implied). What if he took this time to finally learn Shanghainese, to reconnect with his roots?

Jem’s Mandarin is understood to be the Beijing dialect for more meta reasons, but what if he actually speaks the Southwestern dialect?? Wen Yu killed a bunch of Yanluo’s demon kids lol in Lijiang, a city in Southwest China. What would it mean if his mom was actually originally from Southwest China and spoke that dialect, and passed it on to his son? Would Jem have learned and adapted to current standard Mandarin during his years as Silent Brother? There’s a crackfic here somewhere in which Malec and co. get to Shanghai and expect Jem to act as guide and translator BUT NO ONE IN SHANGHAI CAN EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT HE’S SAYING -

Final note on Shanghainese and the current Shanghai:

After Mandarin was established as the standard national language and the Beijing dialect the standard pronunciation in the 1930s or 50s, there was a huge push for getting people to speak (only) standard Mandarin. There was a period of time in 70s/80s when schools would be overzealous, and teachers would even ban the speaking of Shanghainese in classrooms. A lot of people from the last generation would grow up not knowing how to speak their parents’ language, or they would neglect to teach their children the language in favor of teaching only Mandarin. This caused the current generation - including me :( - to be mostly unable to speak the language. Most everywhere in Shanghai will speak standard Mandarin, though cab drivers, streetside food vendors, etc, might still be more comfortable speaking Shanghainese. There’s a push now for reeducation, because they fear the language will start to die out at this rate. My grandparents and my mother are all Shanghainese, and they can all speak the language. I can understand Shanghainese fully, but I can barely speak it. It makes me quite sad tbh.

Final final note lol: all this is just me, word-dumping from memory. This is what I remember of the language history of Shanghai, from what I learned and what I’ve heard from my family. This is not academically researched, nor have I fact-checked every single thing, so please don’t take anything I’ve said as absolute!!

[darks-ink]

What A Nice Surprise CH.8

When will my linebreaks return from the war? Also more Valerie, whoo hoo, and a short appearance by Technus.

First Chapter - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter AO3 - FFnet

---

The Ghost Zone was dreary as always. Thick green ectoplasm coiled and misted, forming nebulous clouds that Danny easily passed through. His destination was a lair he’d never visited; he only knew where it was by chance. He’d seen the ghost exit it once before, while he had been fighting Skulker, and evidence suggested that it really was that ghosts lair.

And if not… well, it wouldn’t be the first time that he’d made a fool out of himself.

The door, exceedingly simple for the ghost it supposedly belonged to, appeared in front of Danny. He paused for a moment, hesitant. Then he braced himself. It had to happen. Jazz had really hit it off with Dora, but he couldn’t have her go into the Zone so often to visit her. And Sidney, too, would likely get along well with the two of them. The phones needed to be made, needed to work.

He knocked.

The door opened, a green-skinned ghost with a white mullet appearing in the opening.

“Ghost-Child?” Technus asked, frowning behind his glasses. “What are you doing here? How did you even find me?”

“I saw you leave here once, while fighting Skulker.” He shrugged, fidgeting with the edge of his glove. “I, um. Heard that you were working on getting phones working here? And I wanted to help, if I could.”

Technus eyed him, probably trying to determine his genuineness. Then he floated aside, gesturing for Danny to enter. “Very well! But, Ghost-Child, do you know anything about tech besides how to destroy it?”

“Eh, not really.” Danny grimaced. No, unless fixing the Ghost Portal per accident counted, he didn’t have much experience with it. “But I have some earphones my parents invented. When we tested them recently they worked across dimensions, so I thought they might be useful to you.”

Then Danny shrugged. “Plus I might be able to get you material by buying it or taking it from my parents, so you don’t have to come and steal it.”

The full ghost barked out a laugh. “Very well! I will gladly take a look at this tech of yours.”

Nodding, Danny dug out the extra pair of Fenton Phones from his pockets. He had originally taken an extra pair to give to Valerie, but after their recent confrontation she hadn’t exactly warmed up to him. Since no further truces had formed, he might as well sacrifice them for this.

Technus took them from his hand, turning them this way and that. “And they worked across dimensions? These don’t look like anything special.”

“Uh, yeah. We tested them, my parents on one side and me on the other, and they worked just as well as when we were all in the Zone. And that was with three of them in the Human World and me in the Zone.”

Nodding, Technus floated over to the closest desk. “Well, let’s see how your parents managed it, then. And I assume you’ll want access to the tech too, in return for helping?”

“I mean, ideally I would offer this tech in return for you no longer attacking Amity, but I don’t think that that’s gonna happen.” Danny floated closer as well, keeping an eye on Technus as he disassembled one of the earpieces. “So yeah, I’ll settle for some of the tech so I can stay in touch with the Zone-bound ghosts.”

“What, your human family and friends not good enough for you?” Technus didn’t look up at Danny, but his tone seemed light and joking. Oh, if only Danny was better at reading people he wasn’t as familiar with. “You need to have ghostly allies too?”

“Well, I am half ghost and not just human,” he joked back, hoping he was reading the atmosphere right. “And I’ve had my current allies for a while, you know? Wulf and Dora and Frostbite, among others.”

Technus stilled for a moment. Then he jolted back into action. “You know Frostbite of the Far Frozen? And Queen Dorathea of Aragon?”

“Uh, yeah.” Danny floated to the other side of the desk so he could watch Technus and the earphones simultaneously. “Dora is a close friend of mine, and Frostbite and his people worship me for defeating Pariah Dark. Why? Are they that well known in the Zone?”

The other ghost looked up from the gadgets to stare Danny in the eye. “Ghost-Child, your ignorance never fails to impress me.” Then his head turned down again as he continued working.

“What, you’re just gonna say that and not explain?” Danny’s spectral tail twitched in irritation, aura brightening slightly. “Should I have mentioned Pandora as well? I mean, it’s not like any of them are like Clockwork, right?”

Snorting, Technus shook his head. “Clockwork is just a legend, child.”

“Legendarily annoying, you mean.” Danny rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his elbow which rested on nothing. “But I was serious about those guys being my allies, you know? Frostbite taught me how to use my ice powers, even.”

“Yes yes, of course he did.” Technus glanced between some of the parts he had just pried loose. “Between their tech and these gadgets of your parents, I could’ve made functioning phones ages ago.”

“Really?” Danny blinked, eyeing the ghost suspiciously. “If it’s just that easy, we can go to the Far Frozen right now. They’ll want to keep a close eye on you to make sure you don’t steal anything else, but otherwise it’ll be fine.”

The tech ghost looked up, eye-lenses wide. “You were serious? Yes, yes, let us go immediately.” He dumped the partially-deconstructed Fenton Phone on his worktable, pushing himself up into the air.

“I don’t joke about these things,” Danny said, half-offended. “I really am allied with these ghosts, and friends with most of them as well.”

Technus nodded along as they exited the lair. Then he paused, frowning. “Wait. So what about Clockwork? He’s just a Ghost Zone legend, right? How did you even hear about him?”

“He kept sending ghosts from the future to fight me,” Danny explained with a lopsided grin. “Eventually I followed one of those to Clockwork’s lair, got into a bit of a fight with him, and fell through one of his viewing screens into the future. Found my way back, took out the bad future me that came along, and apparently that was Clockwork’s plan all along.”

Huffing out a breath, Technus shook his head. “Jeez, child. That sounds too crazy to be true, but even crazier to have made up.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Danny laughed. “Try living it.”

“Not exactly alive anymore.” Technus slowed, letting Danny take the lead. “How far is the Far Frozen anyway?”

“Well…” Danny rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, it’s quite a ways, actually. When I visited with my parents last week, it took over an hour at the Specter Speeder’s highest speed.”

Technus glanced over at Danny, narrowing his eyes. Then he sighed. “And you are, once again, serious. You’re lucky that the Far Frozen has such attractive technology and that I’ve wanted to take a look at it for decades.”

Danny’s grin crept back onto his face. “Gotta get some good luck to balance out all the bad, sometimes.”

“That’s depressing, Phantom.”

---

“Alright,” Technus mumbled as a bit of tech clicked into place. “This should’ve done the trick.”

Danny looked up from his book – English homework for Lancer – and at his fellow ghost. “So how did it work, again?”

“It’s a chip. It needs to be installed in a phone for it to be able to connect to any other phone carrying the chip.” He held it out to Danny, demonstratively. “I’ve got two of these so we can test them. After that I can easily replicate it to make more.”

“So I’ll still need to equip everyone with phones.” Danny took the small device from Technus, turning it around in his hand. It was small. Smaller than his fingernail, even. He glanced away from it, back at Technus. “Do you have a phone to test this with?”

The ghost scoffed. “Who do you take me for, Ghost-Child? Of course I have a mobile phone!”

“Right, of course, I should’ve known.” Danny shook his head, using his free hand to pull out his phone. “So where should I plug this thing in?”

“Just phase it in. It’ll work even while intangible.” Technus shrugged at Danny’s incredulous look. “Listen, most phones don’t have a whole lot of free space, yeah? Easiest way to make it as compatible as possible is to make it work while intangible.”

Danny paused, thinking that over for a moment. Then he sighed, phasing the chip into his phone. “Yeah, alright, I guess that that’s fair.”

Just then his phone beeped, and he looked down at the screen. A new text message from an unknown number, simply reading ‘hello world’. He glanced over to Technus, who was now holding a phone as well.

“Really?” he asked, unamused. “Was that really the most creative thing you could think of?”

Technus clicked his tongue. “You disappoint me, Phantom. Your little tech-buddy would’ve gotten the joke, I’m sure.”

Rolling his eyes, Danny stuck his phone back into his pocket. “Yeah, sure, whatever makes you feel better. I’ll send you a text when I make it back to the Human World, and then we can try calling after that?”

“Of course, Ghost-Child.” Technus sat down on the edge of his worktable. “But go and hurry, yes? I get bored waiting.”

“I’m not even gone yet!” Danny protested, floating over to the door. “But, just for you, I’ll fly at my top speed, alright?”

He didn’t hear whether Technus replied or not, as he’d already left the lair. True to word, he zipped to his parents’ Portal at top speed. He really hoped it had worked. Convincing Frostbite to let Technus access the Far Frozen tech hadn’t been as easy as he’d thought.

At least Technus himself seemed to have warmed up to Danny, now. Apparently his various Ghost Zone allies were too threatening for Technus to risk opposing. Well, if it worked, it worked.

Turning invisible just before he left the Zone, and intangible immediately after, Danny passed through his house unnoticed. He and Technus had decided beforehand that it would be best for him to put some distance between the phone and the Portal, as that might influence the reach as well.

He paused high above Amity Park, looking over the city. His city. With a grin, he pulled his phone from his pocket. First registering Technus in his contacts, he send a text back.

‘made it to amity,’ he simply said.

After a few long moments, his phone rang. Grinning wider, he answered it.

“Ghost-Child!” Technus said, his voice crackling like static – even worse so over the phone than in real life, but that might not be a side-effect from the chip but from Technus himself. “It worked, just like I said, didn’t it!”

“Uh, yeah. Your voice is kinda static-y, but you tend to sound like that while possessing technology as well so I don’t think that the chip is to blame for that.”

“Ha! No, it is not. My technology is flawless, Phantom! I, unfortunately, am not. But I will be, eventually!” Technus paused for a moment, a heavy rustling of his clothes filling the line instead. “I will have as many chips as you want for you tomorrow. Bring me a laptop like promised and I’ll leave your town alone.”

“And the rest of the Human World as well?” Danny’s grin fell a little as his eyes narrowed. Count on Technus to try for a loophole.

“Yes yes, of course. I might come visit Amity, but I will let you know beforehand and I will behave well,” the ghost promised.

“Alright. I’ll come by tomorrow, then.” Danny’s ears picked up an unfortunately familiar hum in the distance. “Anyway, I gotta go, Technus. I’ll get you that laptop, yeah?”

He hung up before the other could reply, just as Valerie entered his view.

“Phantom,” she growled, a gun forming in her hands. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Convincing Technus to stop attacking Amity Park,” Danny said casually as he pocketed his phone again. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I’m not falling for your charade, Phantom.” The pink elements of her gun started glowing, clearly preparing a shot. Danny got the feeling that she was glaring at him from behind her helmet. “Now release your hold on the Fentons and leave.”

“I’m not doing anything to the Fentons!” he protested, throwing his hands up. “Just because they’ve realized that I’m not the bad guy doesn’t mean that I did anything!”

“You’re just leading them to their deaths!” Valerie tensed, her fingers visibly clenching around the gun despite the thick armor around them. “And then before we know it, they’ll be gone or dead and you will be to blame!”

“If I wanted them dead I would’ve done it already!” Danny snapped before he could really think about it. Knowing he couldn’t take back his words, he continued at a quieter tone. “I’ve been in the Ghost Zone with them twice already. If I really did want them dead, wouldn’t that have been the perfect moment for it?”

Valerie snorted. “Like you ghosts are logical in any way. You’re not fooling me, Phantom.”

“I think that you said ‘I absolutely refuse you ever believe you,’ wrong.” He lowered his arms, crossing them instead. “But I’ve got better things to do. See you hopefully never, Val.”

Turning himself invisible, he dodged to the side in case she reflexively pulled the trigger. Sometimes it was hard to believe that the two of them had ever worked together. Multiple times, even!

He shook his head, flying away from her before she could get out her ghost scanner. Buying the laptop for Technus – and phones for his allies – would cost most of his saved money, but it would be worth it.

Now he just had to convince Jazz to let him phase the chip into her phone.

---

Danny left Sidney’s new phone in their shared locker at the start of the day. He had already added his own phone number, but otherwise the contact list was saddeningly empty. Soon, hopefully, Jazz’s number would join as well.

During lunch, his phone buzzed with a new text. Tucker and Sam looked confused, but didn’t say anything. Most of their lunches were spent in silence nowadays, anyway.

He supposed that they’d grown apart. One day, maybe, he could mend this relationship, too.

The text was, of course, from Sidney. ‘you really got me a phone?’

‘of course I did!’ he texted back. ‘has that new chip as well, so it works in both dimensions.’

‘holy moley!’ Sidney answered. ‘thank you! it is much appreciated!’

‘thank me when I convince jazz to get hers chipped as well.’

Sidney’s answer was a happy-faced emoticon. Danny felt his lip quirk into a smile, but caught Sam’s deepening frown from the corner of his eye and felt the happiness disappear again. Why couldn’t things just be easy for once?

Instead of explaining himself he took a big bite of his lunch. He had no excuses. None that wouldn’t involve a lot of lies, that wouldn’t just hurt them more.

When had his life gotten so complicated?

---

“Phantom,” Valerie said, sounding more resigned than angry. “What are you doing now?”

“Making imaginary friends,” he replied, dryly. He hadn’t looked away from the phones in his hands. There were several more lying scattered around him.

“Why.”

“Well, in actuality I’m working on being able to communicate with my friends and allies without having to travel between dimensions.” He confirmed the contact on the new phone, then looked at Valerie. “This way my friends can contact me without having to come to Amity if there’s trouble. Unless you prefer it when they come here?”

“So one of these,” she gestured at the wide spread of cheap cellphones, “is yours?”

“Uh, yeah.” Danny flipped the phone in his left hand closed, laying it down on the rooftop he was sitting on. “But don’t worry, these are all totally legit. I bought them with actual legal money.”

She snorted. “Yeah, uh huh. Like I would believe that.”

“If I was stealing them, would I really have gone for the cheapest phones I could get?” He raised a brow at her, wishing he could see her face to read her expression. “Come on. Do you really think that badly of me, Red?”

“Worse, actually, but good try.” She shifted, one hand resting on her hip and the other hanging loosely. It would look like a relaxed position if it wasn’t for the gun holsters attached to her hips. “Give me your number.”

“Wow, I thought you weren’t into me?” He wiggled his eyebrows. Hearing her growl, he raised his hands placatingly. “Yeesh, calm down, just joking. But, uh, no can do.”

“Why not?” she asked, voice still a low growl.

“Well, um.” Come on Fenton, think! You can’t give her your number, she’ll recognize it as Danny Fenton’s. Shoot, he really should’ve bought a phone just for Phantom. “Well, it’s… You see…”

An idea wormed its way into his brain, then, and he smiled. “The problem is that these don’t actually work with normal phones. They use a special chip, so they can only connect with phones that also have that chip. Not with actual mobile providers. Sorry, Red.”

She stood, unmoving, staring at him. Then she relaxed a smidgen. “Alright, fine. I’m willing to believe that, for now. But if I found out you lied to me…” she let the threat hang.

“I gotcha, I gotcha!” He glanced down at the phones. Only one more needed setting up, but that was Wulf’s and he had no way to reach the ghost anyway. Looking back at Valerie, he said, “I’m about done here, anyway. I’ll go and get out of your hair, deliver these to the Ghost Zone. If you run into Wulf, can you let me know or send him to me?”

“Who the hell is Wulf?” She crossed her arms, unimpressed. “Please tell me that you didn’t name your dog Wulf.”

“Nah.” Danny flapped a hand, using his telekinesis to gather the phones again. “Wulf named himself. He’s more werewolf-y. Big, with black fur and green eyes. Huge claws. Can rip holes into reality to create portals between this world and the Ghost Zone.” He shot her a lopsided grin. “Nothing special. You probably won’t run into him, but you never know with that guy.”

“There are ghosts that can create their own portals?” Valerie asked, apparently focusing on that specific bit. Danny hoped that she had heard the rest, too. “That’s not a common ability, right?”

“Nah, no worries.” He pocketed all the phones, thanking his parents for the many surprisingly roomy pockets on his belt. “Wulf is one of the few ghosts I know who can do it. And they’re usually not malevolent – they have no reason to cause trouble since they can avoid unwanted contact much more easily.”

Valerie shook her head. “Somehow, Phantom, every thing I learn about your kind just makes me more worried instead of less.”

“It’s a familiar feeling,” he assured her with a grin. “Trust me, I’m still learning more and more myself. Anyway, thanks for not shooting me, Red. See you around.”

“I hope not,” Valerie muttered as he flew off.

---

It was, once again, the weekend. Danny rung the doorbell, then phased into his own house, dropping his invisibility.

“Oh, Phantom!” Jazz looked up from where she was sitting in the living room, reading a book. “Come to kidnap my parents again?”

“Eh, not really.” He shrugged, floating closer. “A while ago we did some tests with my abilities, but we never did all of them, so I thought we could finish them today.” Then he curled his hand around his chin, in a thoughtful look. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you as well.”

“Me?” Jazz asked, intrigued. She put down her book, turning to face him fully. “What about?”

“As you might’ve heard, we’ve been working on getting phones to work in the Ghost Zone.” He sat down on the arm of the couch, his boots resting on the seat. “And, in part thanks to your parents, we did it! Dora really enjoyed your talk, so she was hoping to share phone numbers so you could talk more.”

“Oh! Yes, sure.” Jazz fished her phone out, flipping it open. “What’s her number?”

Danny made a face. “Well, it’s not quite that easy.” He pulled out a chip from his pocket – the last one that hadn’t been connected to a phone. “See, the phones can only connect with each other if they all have this special chip in them. It needs to be phased into a phone – your phone.”

“Alright.” She held out her phone. “If it won’t do any damage, go and phase it into my phone, then.”

“You sure?” he asked, taking the phone from her hand already.

“I trust you, Phantom.” She sat back. “If you say it won’t do any harm, it won’t.”

His lip quirked into a smile. “Thanks.” The chip was phased into her phone, and he handed it back. “I… I really appreciate that. Your trust, I mean.”

“Of course.” She glanced down at her phone, then back up at him. “Say, does Sidney have a phone as well? Since he spends most of his time around here?”

“I got him one too, yeah.” He smiled knowingly. “Let me guess, you want his number as well?”

“Definitely.” She nodded. “Say, have they ever met?”

“No, not yet. I’ve been planning to introduce them, but I haven’t had a chance to, yet.” He leaned back, his weight resting on his hands. “Why? You hoping to introduce them, too?”

“I think they would get along well,” she admitted, a somewhat hesitant grin on her face.

“And being a group of friends will be better for everyone involved as well?” Danny suggested, knowing that that was what she was planning for. Or so he hoped. It was definitely what he wanted to happen.

“Uh… yeah. Absolutely.” She nodded a little too enthusiastically. “And, um, Phantom?”

“Yeah?” He stopped digging through his pockets for the sheet of paper he’d used to write down the numbers for Sidney and Dora.

“If I give you my number, can you spread it among the ghosts?” She fidgeted with her hands, as if she’d suddenly gotten shy over asking. “When I met Sidney, he said something that really hit me. That happy people don’t become ghosts, that most ghosts have trauma regarding their life – or death.”

“I mean, I guess so…” Danny said, uncertainly. “But how does that relate to…?”

“Well… these ghosts don’t seem to have any psychiatrists or anything,” she started to explain, haltingly. “So I thought… I can help Sidney, and I can help Dora. But there are so many more ghosts that could use my help, too. And if phones become more widespread, they could text or call me for advice, or ask to drop by. And then I can do my best for them, too.”

Danny blinked, surprised. He wasn’t sure why this had caught him off-guard so badly; Jazz had certainly seemed intent on doing this for every ghost she’d encountered so far. “Um, sure, I guess? But you might want to tell your parents as well, if you plan on having ghosts come by.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess you’re right.” She stood up suddenly. “Come on, they’re in the lab. They might not have heard the doorbell, otherwise they would’ve come up already.”

Floating up from the couch, Danny trailed after his sister. “Say, not that I don’t appreciate you wanting to help ghosts, but… Are you sure you’re ready to deal with them? Especially ones that might’ve attacked Amity Park before?”

“Maybe not.” She shrugged, not looking at him. “But if I don’t try, who will?”

[katsukifatale]

hey guys, i’m hoping aboard the 2017 ao3 stats train like a ton of other people stealing this from @extranikiforov and @n3rdlif343va mwahaha because why not!

but first, i just want to say that while 2017 has kicked my ass in a lot of ways, it also brought me further into a fandom that i’ve totally fallen in love with, and closer to people who are truly an incredible bunch, and for that i am very thankful. writing for yuri on ice has brought me a unique kind of joy i’ve never experienced in a fandom simply because yuri on ice has given us so much in the way of canon content (canon queers! canon queer engagement! characters who are my age! canon gender fuckery!). how blessed are we.

in any case, im choosing to post this on my main blog instead of my writing blog @trumpet-geek because i think a lot of my meaningful interactions have happened here as opposed to the writing blog which is just where i dump my updates. i hope no one minds!

anyway -

let me just say this is significantly more than the last couple of years and i’m both shocked and thankful to everyone who has ever touched one of my works, whether it’s on ao3 or on tumblr or both. <3

now for a short list of the things i’ve written this year, in the hopes that it will remind me to write even more in 2018 (and because self-promotion lol WHOO HOO):

ace of diamond

you are unstoppable - miyusawa yoi au, wip, for @rynyn He hears Wakana gasp -the noise echoes through the rink, silent but for the scrape of his blades against the ice and the sound of his measured breaths. She recognizes the routine.

yuri on ice

an ever-fixed mark - viktuuri wedding fic, nsfw Yuuri is absolutely gorgeous. Viktor could write poems about the soft pink that paints his cheeks and nose. He could pen lyrics about the slope of Yuuri’s smile and the way he bites his lip to try to keep the laughter inside. The sparkle in Yuuri’s eyes would be enough to give hope to even the most lovelorn soul. The warmth of Yuuri’s body pressed against his and the bubbling heat of the feelings he induces in Viktor would be more than enough protection from even the harshest of Russian winters. Yuuri laughs again and ducks his head, embarrassed, and Viktor covers his mouth with his hand because he thinks he may have said some of that out loud. Oops.

the stars are fire - viktuuri 5+1 fic, nsfw His coach uses his grip on Yuuri’s hips to twist him just so, gracefully manhandling him into the correct position – and Yuuri shivers, and it’s not the fingers on his skin or the heat in Viktor’s gaze that has him worked up – and then he’s in the air, blades almost a meter off the surface of the ice like it’s nothing. Like there’s no mass to Yuuri at all. Like Viktor could do this all day and not get tired of holding Yuuri up. And then it’s over. And then Viktor is slowly, slowly lowering him back down – and Yuuri can feel him all the way down his body, can feel the shake in his arms and the press of his thighs as he goes, and his head is so full of Viktor he feels fit to burst – and – he – Yuuko walks in and shrieks at the sight of them pressed so intimately against each other, and before Yuuri knows it they’re meters apart and he can’t meet Viktor’s eyes for hours afterward.

i was yours before i knew (and you have always been mine too) - viktuuri florist au, wip, written for @yurionicebigbang in partnership with @rynyn (her art is here), nsfw “Ah, I’m sorry, let me –” Viktor looks up.Viktor stares. “Oh, wow,” he breathes. He’s wearing an ugly green apron with smears of dirt and wet patches, a pair of dirty jeans, and a very alluring light pink blush. His black hair sticks up on the side and his glasses sit askew on his face, probably a result of Makkachin’s exuberant kisses. He looks about as dazed as Viktor feels.

the fire that purifies the metals - viktuuri clothing kink fic, for @rynyn, nsfw “Really? You really couldn’t stop yourself from laughing about the word ‘hard’? Are you twelve?” “I really hope not,” Viktor responds, “considering the things I want to do to you later tonight.” His husband sends him a pointed look, mouth turned down in a frown but eyes sparkling and playful. He reaches out to tangle his fingers into the lapels of Viktor’s exhibition costume, his hands warm through the layers, and then he yanks, and Viktor goes stumbling into him with a gasp. “I think you meant what I want to do to you later tonight,” Yuuri says softly. He presses their foreheads together for a moment and then turns around and starts walking, leaving Viktor to stare after him. “Wow,” he breathes, and then scrambles to catch up.

to be with those i like is enough - phichit & yuuri friendship with background viktuuri, written for @yoiholidaysonice for my giftee estelraca He’s seen pictures, of course, thanks to having been Yuuri’s roommate and therefore having been subjected to Yuuri’s near-obsession with Viktor. He thought he was intimately familiar with how looming and industrial and spartan the architecture feels, and how prettily the early morning sun filters through the expanse of windows and lights the ice with cotton candy colors from the photo shoots for Viktor’s interviews and Team Russia’s promo for the Olympics. It’s nothing compared to seeing it in real life.

and an unrevealed mystery work for @victurigiftexchange which will inevitably count toward 2018′s stats because we can’t post it yet lol

yuri on ice drabbles/requests

we were together; i forget the rest - viktuuri drabble collection It’s in the moments between sleeping and waking, when he becomes conscious of Yuuri in his bed and in his arms -soft moments just before sunrise when he can hold out his hand and admire the way the gold creates shadows on his skin.

bug bites and sky lanterns - viktuuri with phichit & yuuri friendship festival drabble 

yoi request/ficlet tag for more yoi goodness

yuri on ice zines

preview for @yuurizine, which is still in preorders!

i’m also involved in @yoi-yuuri-zine, @phichitzine, @eatskatelovezine, @yoichasinggoldzine, and @heartbeatszine so please keep an eye out!

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR A GREAT 2017!!!

[shadowscrybe]

Metamorphosis- Chapter 1

Requested: no

Summary: You’re Melissa’s “adopted” daughter after her best friend died and left you to her. Scott pretty much ignores you until one day he randomly starts hovering over you. Then this new kid Isaac comes along and Scott takes him in so quickly. You resent them both until...

(I love ambiguous summaries, can you tell?)

Word Count: 949

A/N: So this begins before Scott is turned and it’ll escalate quickly to (my version of) the present. I like to follow the story for the most part and just go on little tangents. So it’s a bit of a canon divergence I guess. Anyway, I’m super excited; this is my first multi-chapter fic EEEEP!!!

Also disclaimer: I know I tagged this as an Isaac fic. I swear it is, he’s just not in this chapter. If I made it long enough to put him in there, it’d be twice as long. I promise he’ll be in the next chapter. Bc this really is an Isaac Lahey fic. Have patience my children. We’re developing a story here. Sorry if it seems a bit rushed or sloppy. Im just so excited to get to the Isaac chapters. I already have the fourth chapter written. I was procrastinating the first one. Anyway, I hope you guys like it! Tell me what you think and what you want to see in the next chapters! 

I hate the way he looks at me. Which is not at all. I live in a house with people that ignore me. I can’t blame Melissa, though, she has her reasons. She’s always at the hospital. But Scott. He has no excuse. We’re in the same class for god’s sake. I’m the older sibling, I should be the one he looks up to. Isn’t that how it's supposed to go? The younger sibling aspires to be the older one and bothers them to death? I guess not.

I’m standing at the door waiting for him to finish scarfing down his second bowl of cereal. Melissa gave me the car because I wasn’t the one who crashed hers into the garage door when we were learning to drive. He grabs his backpack and walks right past me blowing hairs in my face.

“Good morning.” I say to the empty foyer.

We usually don’t talk in the car. Whenever I’d try he’d have something more important to do on his phone then say “Huh?” a few seconds after I’d fall silent. After a few attempts I just gave up. I just drive him to and from school and repeat. Sometimes he’ll ask to copy my math homework. Stiles will ask for me to sit with them but I usually pass. I did join them once and it was more awkward than just ignoring the offer.

Something today has him nervous. He’s sitting in the passenger seat fidgeting with his hoodie strings.

“Are you okay?” I ask as he taps on his knees to a song that's not playing.

“What? Oh, yeah. I’m great. How are you?”

I give him a quizzical look. He smiles and turns back to center. He’s on drugs. When Melissa finds out she’s going to knock his head into the wall. I laugh at the thought. I haven’t seen that since he dumped paint on Lydia Martin in the third grade.

The second we get out of the car Scott smiles and says, “Thanks, Y/N, see you after tryouts?”

Oh, that’s why he was being weird. “Yeah.” I reply curtly.   

“Scotty!” The bubbling Stilinski boy screams from across the yard. He threw a quick, “Hey, Y/N,” at me as they walked off to class like I don't sit in front of them in homeroom.  

After school I sat on the bleachers to watch the boys practice. Mostly to just laugh at Stiles and Scott attempting to not get ran over. But that doesn’t happen today. For some reason, Scott does pretty well. Great even. He’s not good at lacrosse. He’s clumsy and runs out of breath after running down the field once. Coach Finstock grabs Scott by the back of the neck and smacks his helmet.

“You’ve been holding back on me, McCall!” He booms to the whole stadium.

Scott braces himself for his position to be called. Every year it's the same benchwarmer spot right next to Stiles. So, when coach yells, “First line!” Scott hangs his mouth wide open.

Stiles jumps up and exclaims, “Whoo! That's my baby!” and starts doing the running man dance with his lacrosse stick. He’s such an idiot I feel embarrassed for him, but I can't help and laugh.

“Y/N,” Scott runs up to me after practice. “I got first line.”

“I heard, congrats. How’d you get so good anyway?” I inquire.

“Uh, just practiced with Stiles a lot.”

“It doesn’t seem like Stiles took much away from it.” He laughs. He never laughs at what I say. Maybe him getting first line is better than I thought...

Not long after tryouts, Scott started dating Allison, and we were back to square one. He must have forgotten every name he knows besides ‘Allison’. She was nice, from what I could gather from our thirty second conversations.

“So you’ve known Scott since...?” She asks.

“Since I was seven and he was six.” I should’ve lied.

“Wait you’re a year older than us?” And that’s why.

“Yeah. I was held back in second grade.”

“Oh? We’re you just one of those kids who were born a little too late for the next grade?”

“No, I mentally checked out after my mom died. I guess my seven-year-old brain couldn't  handle seeing a dead body. So I fell back on my AP classes and it all went downhill from there. ” I say more casually than I probably should've for someone meeting me for the first time. I was trying to be funny, but that backfired.

She looks at her hands uncomfortably. “I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“Oh, it's all good. I don’t remember her much. She was a good mom from what I remember and what Melissa tells me, but other than that I don’t think about it much.” She gives me a sad smile.

“I was held back too,” she says finally.

“Really?” I feel my lips pull into a smile. Finally someone who gets it.

“Yeah. My family moves around a lot, so I couldn't keep up. What class did you in? Mine was AP alphabetics.” She laughs. I notice her cheeks get a little red when she laughs.

“Coloring. There’s more to it than you’d think.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” We laugh together on the couch.

“Allison,” Scott says halfway down the stairs cutting off our levity. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Yeah I was just saying hi to your sister.”

“She’s technically not my sister.” He says with a hint of indignation. “Let’s go,” he nods his head towards the door.

“See ya later, Y/N.” She calls as he shuffles her out of the door.

“Glad you made that clear.” I say to our empty living room.

[enlit12ww]

August 27, 2017

Rick and I really need a break, naturally we went to a spa, not an earth spa but an alien spa. [1] Rick’s small treat to avoid suffering a mental breakdown. We had almost died for the eighth time this month and the last time we survived only through sheer luck. Thinking about it now, probably running through the scenario again I would doubt we would live through it a second time, it was that close. Like I love Rick but sometimes f*ck that old geezer…I mean I wouldn’t have survived that situation if not for him, or many situations in general but I wouldn’t be in mortal peril as much I guess. Sometimes I wanna just be my own man I guess and make it big on my own in the normal world, I doubt I could but I’d at least like the opportunity…anyway our next therapy session is coming up, a “detoxifying” whatever that means, I hope it goes well.

August 29, 2017

Wooo! That detoxifier machine really fixed me up I feel waaaay great. All my insecurities, self-loathing and doubts just whoosh, wee-woo-wee-woo gone in a flurry of blinking lights. I don’t know how it did it but I can’t complain with the results, golly! To prove it today I just walked up to Jessica, my flower, my ray of sunshine, the girl I’ve crushed on since entering high school, and asked her on a date. Glad I finally did because she said yes! She said she noticed a positive shift in my character. To be honest I don’t know why I haven’t done this before, I think I’ve had it in me all this time. Probably limitations! We are addicted to our own limitations, to realize and free myself from my limitations just feels so liberating. I really think I’m starting to become healthier ever since that spa visit, I’ve been eating organic, talking to Rick more about positive things such as music, making more friends around school…gosh life is great. Life is a highway! I wanna ride it all night longggg!

November 18, 2017

Okay it’s been a long while since my last entry since a lot happened. Apparently how the detoxifier worked was that it literally separated our definitions of toxicity from our bodies and stored them in a toxic world within a tanker so that they could never plague us again. Neato. That should have been the end of the story.

Rick took the detoxifier tank back to the lab to re-merge with his toxic self, also encouraging me to re-merge with my own toxic self. I love that silly old man but he’s honestly a little over his head on this one, claiming that he’s responsible for his toxic self and that it’s his moral obligation to care for it. I can appreciate that his heart is in the right place, but that just doesn’t seem healthy to me. Toxic Rick is everything Rick hates about himself, crude, egotistic, controlling, and too attached to his family. Toxic Morty—he’s like the embodiment of self-hatred, uncertainty, doubt and weakness. [2]

I’m better and happier the way I am now versus what I was before, taking that away from me wouldn’t be healthy either. Rick managed to re-merge with his toxic self with little difficulty, when he turned to me though I did the only logical thing to do which was freeze Rick with his freeze ray before he could initiate the procedure and run away from my family. I thought it would be hard but hey easiest thing I’ve ever done. My healthy self is worth any means to protect. I took the tanker with me too just in case Rick should genius his way into a new means to re-merge me. He should defrost in about a month’s time, he really makes his inventions too good to be true.

Looking past that, I’m finally doing it though, making my own way in the world as I know it on my own. Jessica dumped me on our first date but that’s what dating’s about! No spark, no problem. I’ve recently begun working as a stock broker and business has been booming. Recently landed my biggest sale yet a week ago and that propelled me to be able to purchase this beautiful penthouse apartment in New York. Things are really looking up. [3]

December 2, 2017

Okay…no big deal but for the past week I seem to have misplaced the tanker. [4] My girlfriend Jacqueline who’s just recently moved in admits she fiddled around with it a bit out of curiosity but left it. She can’t find it either. Whoo okay no reason to panic. I’m still atop of my game. Calm, cool, capable confident Morty, that’s what I’ve been for the past 5 months and that’s how I plan to stay for the rest of my life. Any setbacks that come my way can be dealt with, even Rick. At this point the only person who could hold me back from achieving any more is myself which I find unlikely given the state of me right n---- (the paragraph ends here, blood staining the page blotching some other words)

December 3, 2017

Uhm hey, I guess I’m Morty now [5], even though I don’t wanna be…I’m more like a piece of sh*t…. The real Rick finally found me, guess it’s was pretty easy because like, I’m just too weak and incapable to do anything against anyone, much less a god like Rick. He saw what I did to the other Morty, and he wasn’t happy at all--- not that I expect anyone to be happy with me. Says he doesn’t have enough f*cks to give anymore. I think he moved to another reality to find another Morty ---I guess it serves me right, no one should have to suffer to put up with me. I guess I’m stuck as Morty till I die now though, which I hope is really soon.

1 POV is told through the lens of Morty Smith, the grandson of Rick and the protagonist of the show Rick and Morty, he represents the character of Filiberto in Chac-Mool

2 Toxic Morty represents the Chac-Mool following the “gay story” interpretation of Chac-Mool; Toxic Morty is Morty’s literal shadow made flesh, just as the Chac-Mool represented Filiberto’s shadow of homosexuality. The Chac-Mool in the original text is an ancient Mexican statue made by the local tribes.

3 A small reference in the episode to Wolf of Wall Street and later on American Psycho.

4 The tanker represents Chac-Mool in its statue form, Toxic Morty being the embodiment of the Chac-Mool.

5 Reference to the gay interpretation of Chac-Mool where in the end the Indian the narrator meets at the door is a “new-self” of Filiberto.

[monster-mum]

Wee-ha Azz-ole.

The realities of parenting are somewhat different to the preconceptions many of us had BM (Before Monsters). I had this image of a 1950’s ‘ideal family.’ The house would be immaculate, the children well dressed, well-mannered and definitely not fighting. The children would regularly entertain themselves by reading quietly while the man of the house would be sat in his reading chair, with his newspaper, sipping his martini after a hard day’s work. Then there would be the mum/wife. With a beautifully laid table and home cooked dinner ready, the house would look like something out of Ideal Home magazine. She would be crazy slim with a 24” waist. She would have poise, be calm and with every single hair in place and her make-up flawless she would be the glue of the home and family. The reality is more like a rollercoaster ride without a support harness. My hair is rarely in any place other than all over the place. Calm is something of myths and legends and don’t get me started on slim or poise! My two biggen’s will sit and quietly read to themselves, well Lyla looks at the pictures, but you’re more likely to see them doing Tarzan impressions while channelling their inner Tasmanian Devil. I’m not saying they are feral but…

 With our kids rampaging through the house and destroying everything, it is unlikely that Chris would ever come in, sit down and read the newspaper with a martini. Though I am sure he would love to do this. I think the combination of the child induced chaos and the very real threat of having whatever dinner I had burnt thrown at him stops him from even entertaining the idea of it. Ah, the pre-mentioned “burnt dinner.” Cooking is definitely something I do not enjoy and rarely do. I cook for the children but Chris does pretty much all of the cooking for us grown-ups, unless he is particularly craving something burnt and half arsed then I cook. We also can’t lay our table out nicely as our dumping ground is the dining room. I think most families with young children have a room or large cupboard where they dump all of their crap that they cannot be bothered to put away properly.

 Suffice to say the 1950’s poster family is not my family. I think if they did a poster of our reality people would think we were smack damn in the middle of a game of Jumanji.

 Speaking of Jumanji, myself and Chris have made it one of our parenting missions to raise our little monsters on some of the awesome films and cartoons that we grew up watching. Things like Jumanji, Big, The Sandlot Kids, The Racoons, Trapdoor, She-rah and many many more. The kids love them and it stirs up a lot of nostalgia for me and Chris too. They are great for all of us, well except Lachlan. He is more interested on chewing anything and everything and being sick all over his own head.

 One thing I have learnt from these walks down movie/tv show memory lane is that we don’t always remember these films correctly. Something I realised when I put Ren and Stimpy on for Steven one time. Suffice to say he hasn’t watched it since.

 Set scene: Me, Steven and Lyla are watching ‘Big’ starring Tom Hanks (legend). It is one of the films that are hugely associated with the 1980’s. The biggen’s are glued to the screen. I take this opportunity to do some writing and I’m not paying attention to the film. Why do I need to? I’ve seen it loads of times. About halfway through the film…

 Steven: “Mummy.”

 I look up from my laptop

 Me: “Sup little man?”

 Steven: “What’s a azz-ole?”

 Me: Confused “Azz-ole?”

 Steven: “Yeh. What’s an azz ole?”

 Me: “Umm…I’ve got no idea what an azz-ole is Steven.”

 Steven: He points at the screen “Well, that man said it.”

 Me: “Did he?”

 Steven: “Yeh, he said ‘he’s an azz ole’”

 Uh oh! As soon as he uses the word in context I suddenly realise what word he is asking about. Oh Chris is not going to be amused if he hears that coming out of Stevens mouth. Okay time to parent. Urgh!

 Me: thinking fast “Umm… that’s not a nice word Steven. I would prefer it if you didn’t say that okay?”

 Steven: “Yeh. Okay. But what does it mean?”

 Urgh!

 Me: “It’s a rude way of saying bum hole Steven. Don’t say it.”

 Steven: “Okay Mummy.”

 Me: “Thanks wee man.”

 Yes! Well-handled Nicola. I am a parenting rock star. I turn away from the screen and continue writing.

 Two days later.

 I am sat in the living room. The biggen’s are upstairs playing a pirate game where they are chasing each other back and forth when…

 Steven: Chasing after Lyla and pointing a sword at her shouts “I am going to stab you in the arse!”

 Dammit Steven!!

 Me: At the bottom of the stairs “Steven!”

 Steven: “Yes Mummy?”

 As if butter wouldn’t melt.

 Me: “What did you say to Lyla?”

 Steven: “I wasn’t really going to stab her Mummy.”

 Me: Trying not to laugh at his complete obliviousness “Not that Steven. What else did you say?”

 Steven: “I said I was going to stab her in the arse.”

 It’s becoming difficult not to laugh.

 Me: “Steven can you please not say that word please. It’s not a nice word to say.”

 Steven: Looking apologetic “Okay, sorry Mummy. I won’t say it anymore.”

 His innocence and earnestness are the limit and I try to quickly cover my face as I burst out laughing. Steven smiles and laughs.

 Uh oh.

 Me: thinking quickly “Steven please don’t say it again. Daddy will be so mad with me if he hears you saying that word.”

 Steven looks sympathetically at me.

 Steven: “Okay Mummy.”

 Phew!

 Yeh, that didn’t go to plan eh.

 Many parents can probably relate when I say that when you have young kids a lot of conversations with them are spent trying to translate what they are saying into actual words.

 We had this with Lyla yesterday in the car.

 Set scene: We had just been to our friend’s house and were just driving down a hill out of their village when…

 Lyla: “What’s that word when you go down a hill? It’s not wee it’s another word.”

 We live in Scotland so when you hear the word “wee” you think small. This is how it is most commonly used up here, so me and Chris start trying to work it out.

 Me: “Do you mean little Lyla?”

 Lyla: “No. I don’t mean little. Like wee but not wee.”

 Me and Chris look at each other.

 Me: “Umm…what about steep? Do you mean steep?”

 Lyla: “Nope. Not steep. I mean like you go down a big hill and you say wee but it’s not wee it’s different word.”

 I look at Chris. It’s his turn to guess.

 Chris: “Do you mean high Lyla? Like a big tall mountain?”

 Lyla is starting to get exasperated with her somewhat slow parents.

 Lyla: “No. I don’t mean that!”

 Chris: “Try and explain what it means Lyla?”

 Me: “What does the word mean Lyla?”

 Lyla: “It means the same as wee but it’s not the same word it’s a different kind of wee.”

 Steven by now is clutching his side in hysterics at the amount of times we have all said the word ‘wee’. Struggling to breath he says…

 Steven: “Do you mean pee-pee Lyla?”

 Lyla is now laughing at the direction the conversation is going.

 Lyla: “No! I don’t mean pee-pee. It’s like wee!”

 We all sit trying to think of another word for wee when..

 Steven: “Lyla do mean like wee?”

 Lyla: “Yes! Like wee but not wee.”

 Steven has tears streaming down his face and looks as though he can’t quite believe his luck. Sitting in the car with his madcap family, who by now have said wee and pee a total of ten times, is probably in his top ten of funniest possible scenarios.

 Suddenly I realise what she means.

 Me: “Lyla do you mean WEE instead of wee?”

 Lyla looks at me as if I have gone mad, she is joined by Chris who shockingly doesn’t look surprised that I have lost it and has more of a look of acceptance on his face. Steven is falling all over the place in total hysterics.

 Me: “Like weeeeeeee not wee as in small?”

 Lyla looks at me trying to work out what is going on.

 I decide actions are required so I throw my hands in the air and shout

 Me: “WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

 Lyla: Deadpan “no Mummy that is not what I mean.”

 By now Chris has realised that I haven’t lost it and I am actually making sense in my own unique way.

 Chris: “Lyla is it Whoo-hoo?”

 Lyla: “Yes! That’s it! That’s the word. Whoo-hoo! Aww I knew you could do it guys. Well done.”

 I’m pretty sure we’ve swapped roles here. Lyla is parenting us instead of the other way round. That is definitely not how it is supposed to go.

 Me and Chris: Amused “thanks Lyla.”

 We sit quietly and after a few minutes Steven is able to breathe again.

 Lyla: “WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-HAAAAAA!”

 Steven immediately bursts into hysterics again.

 Glad we were able to help Lyla.

[stargleeksil-blog]

Criminal Minds S06E15 “Today I Do” review - or more aptly named, SOMEBODY NEEDS TO TELL ME WHAT IS GOING ON! Also, Derek and Reid are still hot XD

Episode 15 – Today I Do

Heyo!

What’s up guys? So I’m seriously worried about where this season is going with Emily and everything, but – positive thinking.

Let’s see what happens.

Okay, so until this is resolved we’re going to have flashbacks to those conversations about what’s going on with Emily. Fuck.

“Tsia, it’s Emily. Where are you?”

Who the fuck is Tsia?

“Well, that’s a significant change of address.”

Okay …

“Have you heard from Sean?”

So Tsia knows about Sean. Oh boy.

“But you haven’t talked to him?”

So she’s out.

“So’s Doyle.”

“Sean thinks we’re all in danger. But I was the only one who had any personal connection to him.”

Who the fuck is Lauren Reynolds?

“Lauren Reynolds is dead.”

Wait. Emily was Lauren Reynolds? WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?

“Who’s Lauren Reynolds?”

Thank you.

“She was a friend of mine.”

“How did she die?”

“A car accident.”

“I’m really sorry.”

I love my poodle so fucking much, and I have a horrible feeling that Emily is lying to my poodle and I’m not happy.

“Good morning.”

And to you, honey.

“Hey. Thank you all for coming, as time is of the essence.”

“Okay. Molly Grandin, 25 years old, she’s been missing approximately 24 hours. Her car was found abandoned in a strip mall parking lot.”

“Syracuse police chief just called me to tell me that four months ago another woman, Gail Langston, also 25, went missing.”

Ruh-roh.

“Other than abandoned car, what makes them think it’s the same offender?”

“Both women packed a bag with enough clothes and toiletries to last them for the weekend, and in both cases, the bags were found in the car along with their purses and cell phones.”

Oh dear. One sick asshole.

“If the unsub is sticking to the same MO, then Molly only has 36 hours left.”

“Let’s go.”

Let’s, gang.

“The plane awaits.”

Oh god, I need my little ray of sunshine in this horrible episode.

Sally Kempton: “It’s hard to fight an enemy who has outposts in your head.”

Oh fuck, that Sally was SMART.

“All right, baby girl. Keep looking.”

Wait, she didn’t find something?

“Garcia still hasn’t found any overlap between Molly Grandin and Gail Langston’s lives.”

But she will, don’t fret your pretty head.

“For two girls that didn’t know each other they had a lot in common.”

Did they, blondie? Do elaborate.

“What’s the first thing that jumps out at you?”

“Their body types are both small, but it’s not just physical. They both shy away from the camera and clearly don’t enjoy being photographed.”

“Both easily overpowered and controlled.”

Oish.

“Well, at 25 they’d be much older than most undergrads at SU.”

True, especially when they don’t have to attend the army like Israelis.

“You know, their college transcripts are littered with incompletes and missed semesters.”

“Both from blue-collar backgrounds with no scholarship. Must be hard to keep up while working a full-time job.”

Damn.

“So going to private school would have been worth it for appearances’ sake.”

“If the unsub met them on campus, he could be another student.”

Wow, you’re seriously in the box, blondie.

“He may not be a student. He might be an employee. Janitorial staff, security.”

See?

“Uses a similar background to bond with the victims?”

“They both packed bags to go away with him for the weekend. That trip’s romantic.”

“Yeah, he’s not just getting to know them, he’s dating them.”

Yeesh. Talk about creepy weirdos.

“Prentiss, go to Molly’s apartment. If she knew the abductor, there might be evidence there.”

Word.

“Reid and Morgan, go to the dumpsite.”

But Gail’s body was found almost four months ago. Won’t all the evidence be gone by now?”

*facepalm*

Yo, newbie, shut up.

“You can actually find a lot about an unsub by where they choose to leave their victims.”

Exactly. So please, let the old pros show you how it’s done.

“Yeah, Garcia, what do you got?”

Whoo!

Only a voice-over. I’m not happy.

“Molly’s ex-boyfriend.”

Who’s been brought in for questioning.

Uh-oh. I have a feeling it might not be him if they’re bringing him in this early in the show. We haven’t even reached 10 minutes yet.

Oh god, I’m actually predictive of the unsub now. Someone make me stop (seriously, don’t, I might bite your hands off)

“And he’s got an anger problem. Three arrests for assault.”

Whew. And two of them because he beat his girlfriend who is now missing. Fuck.

“It’s unusual for serial killers to go after someone so easily linked to them, but we’ll see if he fits the profile.”

Thank you!

My faith in my knowledge of this show is restored XD

Oh my god, Rossi is just sitting there, shutting up and letting him run his mouth. I love it.

“Lyle, do you know anyone with a cabin? A fishing buddy? Someplace private to keep Molly tied up until you get back?”

Um, really? That guy looks like the world’s biggest idiot. I wouldn’t put my money on him, honestly.

And speaking of which, this could be an excellent betting game. Guess who the unsub is, 10 bucks says it’s blah blah blah, then the newbie to the show is like, fuck that, and you get paid XD seriously, try it with someone who hasn’t seen the show yet! Guaranteed income XD

So, the lawyer is like letting him just yap on endlessly and suddenly he’s like “that’s enough” what the fuck do they pay you for?

“The last time you beat her up, did she dump you?”

I would. But apparently he was arrested but never formally charged.

I hate the police.

“Okay, fine. After you broke Molly’s jaw (WHAT!), did she still want to date you?” I’d have kicked him in the balls.

So he thought she was seeing someone else?

“Who?”

He doesn’t know. Fuck you, idiot.

“When you two were together, did you control what she wore, where she went?” Let met at this asshole.

“This guy’s into controlling her, too.”

Oh god, that is seriously gross.

“You know, a body would be found here rather quickly, especially if it wasn’t weight down.”

“There was no postmortem damage from being tied to the weights. Everything else about Gail’s capture was carefully planned. It seems unlikely this guy would just suddenly panic and lose control.”

Word.

“This guy prioritizes control. I mean, Gail’s body was beaten in a very specific way – a mallet to the hand and feet.”

Someone stop these images.

“They look more like puncture wounds.”

Ew.

“The ME thinks it’s a Phillips Head screwdriver. Which means he uses tools instead of traditional weapons.”

Oh god.

“The wounds definitely have a purpose.”

Which is? Care to elaborate, gorgeous?

“Did you visit Molly in the emergency room about five months ago?”

He did. And he bought her a car.

What?

What the fuck?

Oh, he didn’t want her to continue using her bike and using a car would be safer … cuz she told him she was in a bike accident.

“Molly told you she was in a bike accident?”

Oh boy.

“You knew she was in an abusive relationship.”

And he didn’t do anything? I’m going to kill that dude.

“Was she always attracted to men who hit her?” Oh fuck!

He didn’t hit her? Okay.

“‘Today I do, tomorrow I will’?”

Sounds like some Zen crap.

“Maybe this guy thought he was sinking the body by filling it with water.”

Ew.

“Well, I mean, at first he’d be right, but after a few hours, the decaying tissues would create gas and the body would become buoyant.”

Oh god, this is gross.

“So this guy wanted to watch her die, then sink beneath the surface.”

“That sounds like classic water burial, right?”

Oh fuck. That’s sick.

“Well, everything points that way except for one thing. Most water burials are exclusively done by females.”

Wait. So the unsub is a lady? Oh boy.

“Until now, victimology, MO, and physical abuse indicated a male offender.”

“Until now.”

Oh my smart gorgeous men.

“Prentiss.”

“Morgan and I think we might be looking for a female offender.”

“That explains why there was no sign of sexual assault. With an unsub this obsessed with control and power, it’s usually part of the territory.”

“It looks like there was a female living in the other bedroom in Molly’s apartment.”

A roommate? I wasn’t told anything about a roommate.

“We’d have been told if she had a roommate.”

“Yeah, so Molly must have wanted to keep it secret for a reason. Whoever she was, she left recently and in a hurry. I’ll put a canvass out now. Thanks, Reid.”

Woooo. Genius people being genius.

“So, neighbors did see a woman coming and going from Molly’s apartment over the last few months, but nobody saw her close enough to get a sketch.”

“And no one met her?”

“No. The best description we got was white female, mid-twenties, light-brown hair, plain.”

That’s not very helpful.

“Molly never mentioned a roommate to her father or her coworkers.”

“Lyle didn’t know, either.”

Eesh.

“Is he still here?”

“We couldn’t charge him, so his lawyer walked him out.”

Ah, shit.

“All right, so we need to start over, go back over both Gail and Molly’s cases and look at everything from the perspective of a female unsub.”

ROLE PLAY!

“I’ll bring in Gail’s family and ask about the women in her life.”

Smart grandpa.

“Prentiss, you and Seaver go back over to Molly’s apartment. Find out what else she’s hiding.”

Please, get her out of there.

So the unsub’s name is Jane.

Ugh.

I really don’t like her.

Oh god, she’s just the craziest bitch ever.

Did she just fucking break Molly’s kneecaps? Fuck.

“She was overdosing on daily affirmations.”

Oh dear.

“Yeah, saying you’re happy isn’t the same as being happy.”

Yup.

“Oh. I think I found her dark secret.”

Pills? For what?

“And this … is a diet journal.”

Oh boy.

“Check with Garcia. See if her spending reflects a disorder.”

“Thirty bucks a week at the grocery store.”

“Thai food every Friday.”

“Yikes, she is worse than me. $8 a day for coffee.”

Wow, that’s a lot on coffee.

Back up a few months, gorgeous.

“Yeah. Oh, my. Back then the spending tells an entirely different story of the unhealthy sort. Lots of drugstore purchases, fast food places. Only a few dollars a week at the grocery. And then $17 at McDonald’s.”

“Binge night. Anything in the journal?” What is she onto?

“It’s intense. She recorded not only what she put into her body but what came out. Calories expended during exercises, and she weighed her bowel movements.”

“Anorexia/bulimia.”

Oh shit.

“The last entry is ten weeks before she disappeared. When did her spending change?”

“About three months ago. She got a membership at a yoga studio and started paying for cooking classes.”

Oh wow.

“We need to find out if Gail Langston had a similar pattern before she was killed.”

“Rossi’s speaking with her family right now.”

Let’s head over to my Italian stallion.

“Did Gail have many friends?”

I don’t like this mom at all.

“Was she staying with anyone? Photos of her apartment show a roll-out sofa made up as a bed.”

Oh god, that mom is delusional as fuck.

“Were you close to your sister?”

He’s so cute and subdued.

“How else had she changed?”

Shut up, mom. Let the kid speak.

“Why did she take time off from school?”

So Gail was depressed. Shit.

I’m going to sock that mom in the face.

“Was she ever treated for depression?”

When she showed extreme signs he took her to the hospital. I like that dude.

“Was she seeing a therapist or attending a support group?”

Um, nope. She was seriously on self-affirmation. Yeesh.

“What about the phrase ‘today I do, tomorrow I will’?”

Yup.

Fuck.

“You know, this phrase doesn’t seem to have a particular source or author. It’s found in pretty much everyday self-help book … I read 22 of them today – all touting the same basic three-part plan.”

‘I read twenty two of them today’. This should be a catchphrase.

“Let me guess … phase one is positive thinking, visualizing goals.”

“That’s to work up the courage to get to phase two – taking real steps to achieve said goal.”

“Gail committed to school, got grades like never before.”

“Molly gave up her obsessive food journal and started eating better.”

“It’s hard to believe motivational sayings alone would allow her to make these type of strides.’

Word.

“Maybe that’s why the unsub moved in with them. She could offer support and encouragement day and night.”

“She’d be around to watch Molly’s diet or Gail’s study habits.”

Oh jeez, this is getting weirder by the minute.

“At first her methods worked. She gets to be the hero, the savior.”

“She’s a pure narcissist, so helping her victims is only about gaining their appreciation and dependence.”

“The more her victims gain confidence, the less they need a full-time cheerleader.”

So that’s why she breaks them. Fuck.

“And that’s when her motivational plan goes completely off the rails. Phase three is normally about maintaining the tenets of the program independently.”

“But her program doesn’t end. She holds them captive, destroys them physically.”

“She’s the motivational speaker from hell.”

Damn right.

“We’re looking for a white woman in her mid-twenties, most likely blue collar and local to the Syracuse area.”

“She probably has a job that puts her in the role of caretaker, such as a masseuse, a nail or hair stylist, personal trainer.”

Oh my god, hearing him say hair stylist is the funniest thing ever, and there’s no reason for it.

“Women feel comfortable opening up to her about their personal lives, revealing details about their insecurities that she later uses to manipulate them.”

So is she a wannabe therapist?

“That’s doubtful. Her narcissistic personality wouldn’t allow her to listen to anything that didn’t revolve around her for more than a few minutes at time.”

“It’s hard to learn anything when you always want to be the expert. We don’t think she’s capable of getting a degree of any kind.”

I love you, my smart lovely.

But don’t you need one to give advice?

“She would, but she’s a master manipulator. She probably talked her way into many jobs before they realized her credentials were fake.”

Oh snap.

“So check gyms and spas, salons, yoga studios for employees fired in the last two years.”

“We need to ID this woman as fast as possible if we want any chance of finding Molly Grandin alive.”

“Why didn’t you tell us Molly battled with severe anorexia?”

So he didn’t know? Fuck you. No way he didn’t know.

I really hate this dad.

“Did she get treatment?”

You don’t believe in treatment? Fuck you.

“It’s urgent that you tell me everything that you know.”

“Mr. Grandin, I’m having difficulty understanding why keeping Molly’s secrets is more important than finding her alive.”

I’m going to sock this asshole in the face.

“Your daughter is specifically vulnerable to this suspect because of her private emotional issues.”

“Now, we need to know as much about Molly as does the person who’s holding her captive.”

“So I’m going to ask you again, are there any other secrets you’re not sharing with me?”

Oh fuck. Malnutrition. Anemia. Fuck. The poor girl.

“Did she get treatment?”

She did. Fuck you, asshole, try and save your daughter.

“At Syracuse General.”

Oh snap.

“Gail Langston was treated there for depression.”

Yup.

“I should have told you.”

“Yeah.”

No shit.

Oh god, this woman is seriously goading her and fucking with her brain and I love Molly and someone should find her soon and get her locked up.

“Garcia, both families released their daughters’ medical records. have you gotten access to those yet?”

“Yes. Both women went to the same hospital but for different programs and at different times.”

“Maybe the unsub works at the hospital?”

“Even if she conned her way into a job, I doubt she’d last enough to get close to patient files.”

“We were off on our profile. She doesn’t find her victims by chance like we thought. She hunts them.”

Shit.

“Garcia, does Syracuse General keep their surveillance footage of the entrances and exits?”

“Oh, in this age of black market pharmaceutical drug trade, you betcha. I can get you that.”

XD I love my goddess.

“Excuse me.”

“Tsia?”

What’s going on? Who’s gone?

“Who? What’s going on?”

Oh shit. Her fiancé is dead.

Shit.

“What?”

Oh shit.

“He’s not even forty. How could --?” A clot? Are you serious???

He was out on a run and then came back.

“Was it his usual path?”

Yup.

Shit.

“Did he fall down on the path? Did anyone run into him?”

Yup.

“How long have we been talking? You’ve got to get out of there.”

Oh shit.

“Get a flight. Leave France, get back to America. Cash transactions only from here on out. Am I clear?”

Shit.

It’s Doyle.

“Toss that cell phone and get home safely.”

Dang.

And of course, my cute poodle notices something’s up.

Oh shit. That fucker Jane is doting on Lyle? Oh shit, she’s insane.

“Now, Molly and Gail had different doctors, but both went to Syracuse General Pharmacy.”

“Assuming they were stalked, you know, 10-14 weeks before their disappearance, I went ahead and started with footage from when they went to get refills which falls right into that time window.”

Shit.

“Behold – Gail Langston, July 3rd. See that woman a few steps behind her with the large cup of coffee?”

Ha. They got Jane.

“Check this out. A few weeks later, there she is again. The same woman is following her. Creepy.”

“She’s wearing the same scarf as Gail.”

Fuck.

That’s sick.

“Garcia, did this woman follow a similar pattern when she was stalking Molly?”

“Emily, shh, you’re totally ruining the ending.”

I love this woman.

“They’re carrying identical purses.”

Shit.

“So she stalks them, copies them, and uses it to stripe up a conversation.”

Oh that woman is way beyond sick. Shit.

I really don’t like Lyle anymore.

“Here is a nice clean one of our stalker lady person.”

Jane’s seriously creeping me out.

“Gail Langston’s family says they’ve never seen her before.”

“Molly’s father said the same thing.”

Damn.

“I sent the picture to Lyle’s lawyer, but he says he can’t find him.”

Yeah, cuz Jane has him.

“Put out an APB on Lyle Donaldson and the vehicle.”

Oh boy.

God Lyle is dumb, and that chick is bonkers.

“Barrows found Lyle’s car in the same parking lot where Molly and Gail’s cars were found.”

“She’s got him, too.”

Yup.

“She’s too obsessed with power and control to work with anyone, especially somebody like Lyle.”

“He’s dominating and violent, just like her. If anything, she sees him as a threat.”

“But why take him now, with all this heat?”

“She’s not done with Molly yet.”

Oh damn.

Oh god, that Jane is one sick fucker. I want to kill her.

“Garcia, Dr. Weingold at Syracuse General sent us an extensive list of female patients in their mid-twenties that match our profile.”

“She’s most likely local, raised by a single parent or in foster care.”

“Okay, narrowing it down.”

“This unsub likes familiar places. Look for extended family or previous addresses. Did any of them grow up near Onondaga Lake?”

How do they say that word so fast without fumbling? I want to see the bloopers for this episode.

“Okay. Wait, wait. Here’s one that might fit. Jane Gould. Her grandparents had a house near Maple Bay, which is where Gail’s body was found.”

Boom.

“Are they still alive?”

“No. They died when Jane was in middle school.”

“Is the grandparents’ house currently occupied?”

“Yeah. Water and power all paid up.”

“That’s the one place she got attention from a parental figure. She feels at home and in charge there.”

Go get her, then.

Oh shit. That Jane is one crazy bitch. Come on, Molly, get away.

“Okay, thanks, Garcia.”

“So Dr. Weingold opened Jane’s files. She can’t release details, but she said there honestly aren’t many. Jane never admitted to being a cutter, let alone what triggered it.”

“She started acting out after she lost her grandparents.”

“Arrested for vandalism, removed from two foster homes for destruction of property. Desperate attempts to get attention.”

“Is that why she started cutting, another cry for help?”

“Cutting is about control, similar to anorexia. It’s common in teenage girls who feel they have no control over their lives.”

Wait, how does she know about that?

“Her grandparents’ deaths were probably the trigger.”

“The loss of parental figures at such a young age turns your world upside down. There’s a lot of pain, but no outlet. No one’s in charge.”

“Both Molly and Gail can relate to that. Jane used them to convince herself she’s important.”

Someone help her.

Fuck, she’s re-captured.

Dang.

Come on, get her already.

I’m still laughing about seeing my poodle holding a gun.

I know he’s a badass, but come on! That’s like giving a baby a gun.

“Clear.”

Lyle’s dead.

“Well, he’s not cold yet, so we may have just missed her.”

I hope so.

“After a confrontation like that, she’ll want to go someplace familiar, someplace she feels in control. I’ll let Hotch know we’re headed to the lake.”

My smart poodle using his neurons.

“How far is Onondaga Lake from Jane’s house?”

“We’re two minutes away.”

Get her.

“Send the nearest patrol car.”

“FBI! Let her go!”

“Move away from the girl and get your hands above your head.”

Come on, Molly, you’re awake, get outta there.

She won’t drown, you idiot.

“No, she won’t. Move away, now!”

“Jane! Put it down!”

Yes, she got away.

Come on, get the fucker.

Yes.

Oh thank god.

“She’s in bad shape, but she’s stable.”

So now he’s worried about her? God, that dude is an idiot father.

But I’m glad they’re all okay.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox: “There is no chance, no destiny, no fate that can hinder the firm resolve of a determined soul.”

Wow.

That is seriously powerful, dude.

Also, why is Prentiss walking through the offices alone?

I don’t like this.

Oh shit. She’s freaked out.

Well, I’d be too if that text from an unknown caller was sent to me.

Shit.

Why am I seeing a plane?

That’s not the BAU jet?

Hey! That’s the guy from the flashback! So it was Doyle? Fuck, he’s hot.

And he’s onto Prentiss. Shit.

Okay, so I’m slightly annoyed at this episode. Only slightly! Don’t  come at me with a gun! Just because they didn’t elaborate on the anorexia/bullimia insights of Seaver. That’s it. other than that, always enjoyable, always fiun, and I WANT TO KNOW HOW PRENTISS KNEW IAN DOYLE AND WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN!

I’m anxiously awaiting to review the next episode, ta!

[shadeterminus]

Yay! I am officially back from vacation!

It was fun, but I’m so glad to be back home with my cat and my own bed and everything. Whew.

I read a solid 4 books over the week, too. Alice Through the Looking Glass, Nothing Like Paris (Amy Jo Cousins), and Reawakening (Amy Rae Durreson), and The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. And, amazingly, they were  almost all enjoyable. Here’s a couple of reviews:

Nothing Like Paris was the second book in a series of M/M contemporary, new adult, romance novels. (So many sub-genres...) I didn’t enjoy it nearly as much as the first book, Off Campus, though. One of the protags was an antagonist in the previous book who harassed that books protagonist. So I was already predisposed to dislike him. He did get character development, but he still felt like a selfish brat to me. Still, he was the more likable one by the end because he was trying to make amends for his previous selfishness (which included not just the aforementioned harassment, but also skipping town to leave for college early without letting his boyfriend (the other protag) he was leaving.) We also get a lot more info on his personal history, which makes him more relatable. 

The other protag started off more likable, but got less so as the book wore on. He was a bit self-righteous and I didn’t really buy that he grew out of it. Also he had a subplot with him and has dad not talking because the dad was giving a different relative the farm, rather than passing it to his son like everyone expected. I called the resolution pretty much when it was introduced. (Spoiler: The dad wasn’t giving his son the farm because it wouldn’t make his son happy. His son was trying to be a martyr and take on all the family responsibility without anyone actually asking him to, giving up all his personal dreams. They spend months on this dumbass miscommunication, refusing to talk, with the son assuming he’s not getting the farm because he’s gay and probably won’t have kids. Because the dad was stupidly unclear in his wording when he made the announcement.)

Reawakening, on the other hand was far more enjoyable. It’s a fantasy romance starring a dragon, Tarn, and the god of a desert, Gard. Unfortunately, it still relies too much on dumbass miscommunication for it’s drama.

The world-building’s pretty strong. I loved the details about the relationships between spirits/gods/dragons and their followers. We also get a semi-good reason for some of the earlier info-dumps in that the book starts with Tarn, the dragon, waking up from a one thousand year sleep following a climactic battle with The Shadow (The resident ancient and nigh unkillable evil Thing. whoo~). So he has to learn how the world has changed during his nap. Also while he was still half-asleep and waking up he flew to a desert, annoyed the resident spirit/god, got kicked out of the desert, and decided that the desert and said spirit should totes be part of his new hoard.

Unfortunatelty, a lot of the conflict for romantic plot comes from Tarn not explaining what that means very well.

Gard, the desert, assumes it means being Tarns possession. understandable, as that’s what it sounds like when Tarn explains it.

So, despite their mutual attraction, they fight over this point for most of the book, until after the final battle when Tarn is at risk of sleeping for another millenium.

Then someone explains it in an understandable way.

Dragons in this verse gain strength and nourishment from love. That’s what being part of a dragon’s hoard means. You allow them to protect you and love you, you return that love and loyalty, the bond gives you both strength (Dragons can send magical strength to their followers through the bond, too. It also protects from demonic possession.). It’s mutual and benefits both parties.

Tarn, apparently, just can’t explain things worth shit. Partly because he’s notoriously very overprotective, anyway. And partly because he uses archaic language to describe the bond. Tarn’s a dork.

There’s also a fairly classic fantasy save the world plot. It actually has some decent twists, too! I really liked how it built the need for spirits and humans to coexist, and the synergy of it. It helped things hang together.

Also, I love the ‘God in Human Form’ trope. It’s really fun for me.

So yeah, this book was generally solid and entertaining, except for the rampant miscommunication.