#and that just doesn't fly when it comes to businesses and logos

[mrpinchy]

the deviantart logo is actually clever but kinda fails as a logo because it’s too abstract to identify/understand what it’s supposed to represent at a glance, which is the whole point of logos in most cases

[carmenized-onions]

Tony, Terry, Tommy? | Walk-In Hotfix

synopsis; You get an unexpected call from an old friend in need of an emergency repair. Good thing: that's kind of your whole gig. Bad thing: You've been avoiding the Berzatto family for the past year.

tasting notes; hurt comfort? idk man, he's in a fuckin' freezer. this is gonna be a long slow-burn series. We don't use Y/N here and we've got a very preestablished storyline going on babes. Eat up.

portion; 3.1k+

possible allergies; SEASON 2 FINALE SPOILERS, I've started writing this before Season 3 comes out in June so we're going WAY off canon (unless I'm an oracle), Mikey is gonna be central baby, any tw you require for the bear-- you require for this.

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns!)

I have not written fanfiction in 5-6 years and once again some goddamn pretty boy just YOINKS me back in. I'm making up my own season three here so I'm kinda flying by the seat of my pants with this series, hopefully it turns out. If it doesn't... C'est la vie, I had fun.

The inciting incident, the thing that pulls you in, and permanently alters the trajectory of your life—                    Is honestly quite boring, because it’s just a phone call from an old friend.

You stare at your screen for what feels like eons but it’s really just a few rings. It’s enough time to frantically search through blankets on your couch for your remote to pause your show— Which might as well be like 10 years of time. You’re heavily debating not answering; what if it’s something heavy? What if a mutual childhood friend died? What if it’s a love or murder confession? What if it’s about the money you owe her? The money she owes you?

Do you really want to take that kind of call? On what’s been a peaceful Friday night? That’s a rarity in your part of Chicago, c’mon. If it’s important, she’ll leave a voicemail... Who are you kidding, she doesn’t leave voicemails— Frankly, it’s bizarre and concerning that she’s calling in the first place instead of spam texting. …Alright, she’s let it get to the fourth ring, she’s probably dead or dying. You need to pick up.

“…Syd?”

She sounds infinitely stressed, but relieved to hear your voice.“Hey, hey, uh—”

There’s a cacophony of yelling, banging, and what you imagine are kitchen noises in the background. Guess she kept to her guns after Sheridan. That’s nice. Or maybe it’s not. Hard to tell.

“Are you good?” She can’t see the concern on your face or your free arm crossing over your waist— But she can imagine it in the worried lilt of your voice.

“Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah— I-I’m good— Well actually, no, I’m not good, that’s why I’m calling. Actually. Sorry. I know it’s been a minute, it’s fucked up to call only when I need something—”

“Syd.”

“Is your dad still a handy-man?”

Ah. Goodbye peaceful Friday night. Hello emergency hotfix services.

You click your teeth, “Oh, no, he retired. Got a case of… Getting fucking old disease.” But a part of you is relieved it’s a thing that’s broken, and not her. This is at least manageable— Whatever it is.

“Fuck. Okay. Fuck. Ha, yeah, my dad’s got that too— Well, okay, then I’ll talk—”

You’re quick to jump in. “I took over the business though. So, if you’re—" “We need help so bad right now.”

You can’t help but laugh at the speed of it, but immediately feel guilty hearing the desperation in it. “Yeah? Who’s we?”

You stick the cellphone in the crux of your neck, already walking across your apartment to throw on your jumpsuit— Dark navy blue, elbow length sleeves, dad’s old logo embroidered on your right breast pocket.

CHICAGO’S KINDEST ⚒ FIXERS & CO. It’s managed to grow on you.

There’s an egregious number of patches ironed or sewn onto the back and shoulders of it. All from businesses you and your father had either worked with or done odd jobs for. A NASCAR jumpsuit, but for nostalgia and small businesses. Something something ‘it all starts with your neighbourhood’. Your dad would say.

Syd continues, she hasn’t changed much. You hear her sharp dicing in the background, the rhythm seems to calm down into an actual flow instead of erratic speed. You figure either the dinner rush is starting to slow down or she’s relieved you’re coming. Who are you being humble for, no shot it’s the former.

“So, you know how I’m like— Like a chef and shit?”

 You hum the affirmative, putting her on speakerphone so you can pull out your tool kit with both hands.

“So like, I actually co-own this restaurant opening tonight.”

“Oh nice!”

“Yeah— Yeah, yeah, it’s really nice, but actually, it’s not, because it’s bad.”

“In the way I can fix?”

“In the way you can fix, yeah. Hopefully.”

“What’s the damage?”

“So, my co-owner uh, Carmen, he got locked in the walk-in. Like trapped.”

You take a beat, a confused one. Half-stepping, almost tripping. You stare at your tools, picking out what you’ll actually need for this— How the fuck— “How is he trapped in the walk-in?”

“So, he meant to call to get it fixed—” “And he didn’t?” “And he didn’t.”

“What was broke about it in the first place?”

“The doorknob on the inside, broke off. And right now, or, more like, 5 minutes ago, the handle on the outside broke off too.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck.”

“Do you have the outside handle, still?”

“Yeah. Yeah, laying around somewhere— It snapped off though, like—”

“Clean?”

“Uh…. Y’know, I would check, but I’m actually kinda—"

“Can we run table 36, please, Chefs?!” Now that’s an uncomfortably familiar voice.

“Yes, Chef! …I’m kinda busy.”

“Right. Restaurant. Oh, what fucking restaurant? You said Carmen, that’s that fuckin’ Michelin guy, right?” Berzatto. It has to be. The smallness of this world is a personal prank on you.

“…How do you know that?” Son of a bitch.

“…I try to remember what you like.” It’s a good save, but that was too intimate for 3 years of no contact besides Happy Birthday texts, fuck fuck, recover— “Ahem, uh, Restaurant?”

“The Bear. Formerly The Beef. You do still live in Chicago, right?”

Berzatto. Confirmed. Bleh.

“Fortunate for you, I do. I know The Beef, I’m not far, I’ll be there in ten. Tell him to not have a panic attack, if you get a minute.”

“I will not get a minute. But I love the dream.”

And you’re off. Jumpsuit half zipped over what was supposed to be a sleep shirt but is now posthumously a work shirt. Nobody has to know you’re wearing pajama shorts under this. Carhartt jacket thrown over your shoulders— Your dad’s, so, a bit oversized. Toolbox in hand, utility belt on— Though you’re mildly sure if your hypothesis is right, you will only need your threateningly long sledgehammer.

Thank God for your car. CTA would not like you right now.

You pull up front. Oh boy. The sign change is making you feel a type of way that you were not expecting. Pride? Envy? All seven of the deadly sins? Maybe. No time to stew on it because there’s an older woman smoking and having an emotional spat with who you assume is her shivering son out front. So. Definitely going through the back alley instead of getting in the middle of that shit.

Alas, it’s not any better, because there’s Syd, vomiting next to a dumpster.

“Better to ignore or acknowledge you in this moment?” Is the response you decide is best, despite the question, you’re already by her side. You put your tools down (out of the splash zone) and rub her back with one hand, holding back straying braids with the other.

“I couldn’t—” More vomit. “Fuckin’ tell ya.” Syd takes a few deep breathes before standing. She considers going in for a hug, but remembers, the vomit. “Good to see you. I want to catch up, f’real, but—” “The bear in the walk-in?” “The bear in the walk-in.”

You nod, fishing through your pocket. You hand her a mini container of Tums. She waves it off, of course, and you double down, of course, “Who you acting tough for?”

“Fuckin… No one.” She grimaces, taking the box. She makes a show of taking one, like a fussy kid.

You refuse to take it back. “Keep it.”

“Never stopped being the mom friend, eh?”

You laugh, picking up your tools again. “Listen, there’s no telling what the night and your stomach holds. Lead the way?”

The Bear is pretty, or at least the kitchen of it is, so far. It’s clean. Cleaner than it used to be. The death trap walk-in is really the only eyesore for you. You stare at the broken-off handle in your hand, twisting it back and forth to look at all the angles. It’s honestly a pretty clean break.

Sydney’s left to talk to her dad, as she should, and the rest of the kitchen is either too busy to pay you mind or is just silently relieved to see you.

Tina— Who has thankfully opted to not say ‘Hey, good to see you, it’s been a year, what the fuck’—Taps the walk-in door and says to this elusive Michelin Carmen that she’ll be right back, that help’s here. He does not seem to register this at all. She gently slaps your cheek before rushing back to her station, regardless.

“Maybe I’m just not built for this, maybe, maybe that’s okay— Maybe that just is.”

You’ve never said his name to him, it feels heavy on your tongue. “Carmen.”

“Right? What the fuck was I thinking?”

Alright, he’s too far gone. You flag down one of the cooks that are just shadowing for the night. “Hey, can you hold this in place for me?”

You stick the handle into what’s left of the hinge still attached to the door, which is, not much— But hopefully, again, if your hypothesis is correct, it’ll give enough leverage. The cook holds it in place, a little terrified as your sledgehammer comes into view.

“Not gonna hit you, promise.”

“—I’m a fuckin’ psycho. That’s why. That’s why I’m good at what I do.”

You tap (bang) the hammer on the door, enough to stop his train of thought. For a second, at least. “Sweetheart, I need you to stand up for me, Carmen Chef Sir.”

“…Tony?”

“...Who the fuck is Tony?”

The meek cook beside you speaks up, “He means Tommy.”

And Tina is quick to yell from across the kitchen— hearing how? We don’t know. “It’s Terry!”

“I am none of these people.” You sigh, readying the hammer. “Carmen, can you stand up, and just tuck your fingers in the wedge of the door? If there is one?”

“Heard. Yeah.” There’s shuffling from in there, getting into position. Though the steps and the words seem dazed, as he’s forced out of a mental fog. “Here.”

“This isn’t a fix by the way. Your whole door is fucked after this. Not that it isn’t already, but, y’know.” You back up, teeing yourself up before running forward.

“Well, wait—”

You slam the mallet into the tip of the handle perfectly, forcing it way too tight into the gap of the hinge. You push the cook aside with your hip, now using the long handle of the mallet to stick between the knob and the door, using it as further leverage to pull it open. It is incredibly straining.

“Carmy!” Is it okay to say that nickname before you’ve even seen his face? Eh. You’re moving the boulder, he’ll forgive you. “You feel air?!”

“Holy shit— Yeah, yeah— Push?!” “Of course fucking push!”

And it becomes apparent in this exchange of force that this Head Chef must be significantly stronger than you, because it’s opening a lot faster now. Though, fast is a strong word for the snail pace this is happening at. But it’s more than the nothing that was happening a minute ago.

“Aye… Cousin?” Richie, in a… suit? Runs up to you, coming from front of house. He immediately grabs a free spot on the sledgehammer’s handle to help pull. He was shocked to see you doing, well, this, right now, but then upon registering, he’s just shocked to see you. Period.

You can only groan in response, sticking a leg up and putting your foot on the wall as if it’s gonna add meaningful leverage— Oh wait, it kinda is. “Y'clean up good, Rich— Opening going—Fuck— well?”

“Oh yeah, fucking peachy.” He can only manage to wheeze in reply. Investing his strength in yanking rather than reintroductions; thankfully it pays off.

The hinge shoots open, you would have absolutely fallen on your ass if Richie was not ready to stabilize you. The walk-in door cracks open. Just a bit. It’s not dramatic, it’s just a breath.

It’s so anti-climactic that Richie doesn’t mind walking off to cheer before Carmen even comes out. Clapping your back as he does. “That’s what I like to fuckin’ see, Cousin! Ingenuity!”

Though, to be fair, he’s moving to intercept a very sweet looking, worried girl. You look up at her, wheezing as you keel over slightly to catch your breath, hands on your knees. She’s saying something along the lines of ‘What’s going on?’ ‘Is he okay?’ Girlfriend? Probably. Richie seems to be coaxing her accordingly. You turn your head back to the door. Carmen hasn’t come out yet. That’s a red flag. With another wheeze, you stand up right, opening the door further, peeking in.

He's standing there, catatonic. Not looking at you, but straight forward, beyond you. He must’ve been by the door to push it open but now he’s stumbled against the back shelf. Every time his girl’s voice manages to ring into here, his eyes crinkle— Wince. His breath keeps hitching. He looks afraid. It is better to be caged right now than it is to be out there, doing whatever he could be doing, right now. Talking to anyone might be a death sentence, right now.

“I don’t need to provide amusement or enjoyment. I don’t need to receive any amusement or enjoyment. I’m completely fine with that.” He mumbles repeatedly. You can barely hear it over the buzzing of the freezer.

Whispering it just for himself, like some sort of fucked up mantra. Like it’s a state of inner peace to feel this bad. You doubt he even sees you right now.

You know you don’t know Carmy personally. Mostly just through hearsay.

He’s never met or heard of you, that’s for sure.

But you know Berzattos. Or. Knew the one.

And you know a downward spiral. Intimately.

And you know that right now, he’s fucking cold. He is shivering and making no move to leave that state. You think he thinks that’s the state he deserves to stay in.

Nothing to lose but a good first impression, right? You drop a screwdriver in the doorway as a doorstop— Because how fucking dumb would it be if you both got stuck? And. Extremely slowly, you approach him not unlike approaching an actual captive bear. In your eyes, you might as well be.

Standing right in front of him doesn’t stop his mantra. You slip your jacket off, half hugging him to drape it over his shoulders. “You’re just cold.”

“I’m a—” “You’re just. Cold.” You cut him off before he has the chance to self-deprecate again, smoothing out the sleeves on him. His eyes readjust to actually look at you rather than somewhere beyond.

You sniff. You’re already cold and it’s been 30 seconds. This poor thing. You rub your hands together, breathing hot air into them before touching them to his frigid fucking face. “Fuck you’re really cold. Like danger cold.”

Never being one for boundaries or hesitation, you hug yourself to him. It’s the fastest way to warm him up. You slip your hands under the jacket— Your jacket— And just engulf the Italian Popsicle Man before you.

Shockingly, he doesn’t push you off or suddenly reawaken to his senses and tell you to fuck off. He doesn’t flinch, if anything he leans in. His body doesn’t really have time for surprise, right now, it just takes what it needs. And what it needs is warmth and oxytocin. His breathing slowly but surely self regulates, and once you start to remember decorum you lower your arms— But. He opts to place his chin on your shoulder, like the world’s most gentle hook, and that alone is enough to keep you there.

It's a long, silent, liminal spacey moment before he speaks again. Both of you speak just above the decibel of the freezer's buzzing.

“You’re not Tony.”

“Terry.”

“You’re Terry?”

“No, Tina said Tony’s Terry. I don’t know who the fuck Terry is.”

“Terry’s the fridge guy.”

“You’re still going to need to call him; I did just make it worse.”

“That’s fine.” He swallows. “Who called you?”

“Syd.”

“Should’ve called you earlier.”

“Should’ve called the fridge guy earlier.”

“Yeah.” He sighs, but he makes no move to move, so you don’t either.

“You know Mikey too?”

Ah. The patch. The Beef. It's worn, but it sits proudly on the left shoulder of your jumpsuit. Your heart tightens and so does your posture.

“Yeah.” You sigh. It’s shakier than you’d like it to be. “Dad knew him, so then I knew him, so then I occasionally fixed shit for him. Shit that ‘Fak couldn’t?’ I think his name was?”

“Hm.” He hums. “He ever got locked in the walk-in?”

“Yeah, he really fucked it up, like waayy worse than whatever happened with you tonight. Like whatever happened. At least 10 times worse.” Your voice is coated with sarcasm, but it’s not entirely untrue.

You’re relieved, when Carmen laughs at this, a touch maniacally, but it’s something. Right now, any emotion from him besides regret and anxiety feels like a trophy. He straightens up, pushing his hair back, so you remove your arms.

“You’re fuckin’ funny, Tony.”

“Still not Tony.”

“Oh my god!” A blonde, very pregnant woman cracks the door open, relieved. “Are you okay, Bear?” You step aside so she can hug Carmen, holding his cheeks to look over him. Oh, this has to be—

“I’m good, I’m great, Sug.” He says this incredibly unconvincingly, hanging one hand on her wrist.

But what matters more in your brain right now is: That’s Sugar. Natalie.

And now you can put a face to both siblings you’ve been bitched about to.

Chain-smoker, means well, cringeworthy husband, too good for her family, incredibly judgemental, cares too much and worries more, loves to fight, her mother’s daughter, pushy, sticks her foot in her mouth, can’t take no for an answer, would lay down her life. Natalie Berzatto. Little sister.

Michelin Star retaining, big shot, sensitive, definitely a virgin, ball buster, sweats the small stuff, sweetheart, asshole, incredibly smart, flighty, coward, deeply loyal, whiny, screamer, show-off, fantastic drawer, shell, mister new york, annoyingly humble, undeniably the most talented. Carmen Berzatto. Baby brother.

Mikey’s words. Of course.

Nat turns her gaze over to you, “Thank you.” You can only bring yourself to nod in reply, a bit awkward— Lost in your rolodex of memories of the people you’ve never actually met until right now. It’s weird to feel parasocial about a normal person.   

“Our toilet, exploded.” She says.

Now that pulls out you of it, and gets a laugh out of you. You put your hand over your mouth. “Yeah?”

Sugar shakes her head, eyes widening like she’s just stepped in it, “I didn’t mean like— Like, you just did a job, right, that’s like tacking on another last-minute service—”

“That’s fine.” You put a hand up stopping her from continuing, still chuckling. “I’ll take a look at it tonight and try to fix it tomorrow?”

She nods, smiling bright, “Thank you, Tommy.”

Who needs to use Y/N when you have the fridge guy?

I so desperately hope you liked this first chapter. I've been stewing on this for like a week so I beg of you to reply/reblog/send me an ask (anon or not!!) telling me what you thought!! Unless it's mean!! In which case, do NOT!!!

And just a forewarning, as we step into uncharted territory where the walk-in meltdown was cut short, I need you to hold my hand through it bb. We're making this man's life better or we're gonna die trying.

Next Part

[archangeldyke-all]

hello sevika lovers happy saturday! here's a nasty little smutty piece for you from me.

have a lovely weekend! love,

angel :)

men and minors DNI, i'll block tf out of u

modern au

sevika's some kind of high level exec. business owner with silco. he handles the marketing and she handles the numbers.

the two of you met years ago when her business was just starting to take off. silco had hired you to help design a logo for them, and in the process you'd spent quite a bit of time getting to know the duo.

for a few months, you met with silco and sevika once or twice a week to discuss and tweak your designs. after the first few meetings, silco started sending sevika to meet with you alone, sick of feeling like a third wheel during business meetings.

you weren't subtle about your infatuation with the woman, but you kept it professional--she was your boss after all.

after three months and dozens of meetings with sevika (most of which went hours over scheduled-- both of you getting too caught up in flirting and chatting to notice the time flying) you finalized the design and got your final paycheck.

you figured that that was the end of your little flirtatious fling with sevika, until a week later she's pounding on your door with a bundle of flowers hidden behind her back.

"sevika?" you asked, surprised to see the woman standing in your doorway.

"hi. uh. silco said my brooding was ruining the atmosphere at the office. told me to suck it up and go for it so..." you had no idea what she was talking about until she revealed the flowers to you and shoved them into your chest. "i was wondering if you'd ever like to get some food with me. you know. not for work."

"like a date?" you asked. she nodded.

you kissed her in response. (and she fucked you against your front door before trimming and arranging the flowers in a vase for you.)

anyways since then you've been inseparable.

she marries you the second she has some substantial money put away in her savings.

most days she's able to keep her work away from home, but come the end of every business quarter, work gets exceptionally busy for her and she doesn't have any choice but to sprawl out in her home office, crunching numbers and reviewing accounts night after night after night.

one of these evenings, you come home and find her hunched over her desk, glasses slipping down her nose, rubbing her temples.

for a few minutes, you simply admire her as she jabs at her calculator and shuffles through her files. eventually, she notices you, the tension in her shoulders melting at the sight of you. you saunter over to her and she grins.

"hi baby" you say, pressing a kiss into her hair.

"mmmh." she says as she buries her face into your tits, her arms snaking around your waist. you scratch her scalp, and you can swear you hear her purring.

"how much longer have you got?" you ask her. she groans into you long and dramatic, and you giggle, pressing kisses on her head.

"hour and a half, two hours maybe." she says. "why? you wanna distract me?" she looks up at you with a salacious smile. you laugh, flicking her forehead.

"get your work done and i'll give you a back massage." you say, pulling away from her. you gently push her glasses up her nose for her, leaning down to kiss her forehead. she sighs.

"fine." she says, shooing you away.

you go , stripping and putting on your jammies, (one of sevika's old t shirts and a pair of panties.) sipping on a large glass of wine after a long day.

you put on some soft music in the kitchen, whipping up a quick meal for yourself and sevika.

when you wander back into her office about half an hour later, she's so focused she doesn't even notice you.

you place her food beside a tall stack of folders, then pour her a big glass of whiskey from her bar cart. you press a quick kiss in her hair.

she hums, reaching out to grab your wrist, keeping you beside her as she finishes some calculation. when shes done, she sets down her pencil and looks up at you.

you pout down at your wife, tracing the dark bags under her eyes with your thumbs. "poor baby." you whisper. "workin' so hard."

sevika hums in agreement as she nuzzles into your touch. you laugh at her. "come here." she demands, patting her lap with one hand and pulling you toward her with her other

you comply, straddling her lap. her hands find your waist, while yours snake around her shoulders. "you think this chair can hold the both of us?" you ask as the chair lets out a pathetic squeak beneath the two of you. sevika doesn't respond, too busy pressing kisses into your neck and jaw. you hum, running your fingers through her hair.

"fuckin' miss you." she mumbles into your neck.

"'m right here, honey." you say. her hands begin to massage your hips.

"yeah but i haven't gotten to fuck you in weeks." she grumbles. this makes you cackle.

"we fucked this morning!" you say. you feel her smile against your neck.

"been so busy lately, been neglecting my wifely duties." she continues. you laugh again. she begins sucking a hickey into the flesh of your neck. "been neglecting you, huh?" she asks. you laugh.

"you're not getting anything from me until you're done with your work, babe." you say to her. she nips your skin and you screech.

"why not?" she asks petulantly, grip becoming tighter on your hips. you have to pull her away from your neck by her half pony.

"because you've got important things to do. businessy things. dinner things. things for silco. and if we start now, you know we won't stop until we're both asleep."

"you're more important than any of that shit." she whispers. you smile, pushing her back in the chair, slowly unbuttoning the top few buttons of her black silk button up for her, pushing her glasses up to sit on her head. the more you undress her, the harder getting off her lap seems.

her grip on your hips is so tight now you'd struggle to leave now anyways. she's got a cocky little smile on her lips, like she knows she's won, and you can't help but huff in annoyance.

with a grin, sevika pulls down on your hips as she thrusts up against you. you gasp when you feel a hard bulge in her pants.

"fuck, sev." you whisper. she grins as she begins to grind you down on her crotch. "when did you even put that on?" you ask with a giggle.

"kept it on after i fucked you this morning. wanted to remember the noises you made all day." you groan, pulling sevika's shirt out of where it was tucked into her pants, clawing at her abs. "so...?" sevika asks.

"what?"

"you gonna distract me for a bit, sweetheart?" she asks.

you roll your eyes but nod anyways, grinding small circles into sevika's lap as she grins up at you. "you're fuckin' annoying." you whisper down at her. she chuckles.

"you're the one who married me." you roll your eyes at her, before smacking at the grip she has on your hips.

"lemme go." you whisper. she pouts. you kiss her in reassurance, whispering in her ear. "not going far." sevika's grip doesn't relent, and you roll your eyes, biting her ear lobe. "come on baby. gotta get your dick wet before you can put it in me." you say, popping the button on her pants. she moans and lets go, hands flying to help you push her pants down. you giggle as she wiggles out of her pants, sliding off her lap and onto the floor between her legs as she pulls her strap out.

"fuck." she whispers at the sight of you. you lick your lips when her strap pops out of her pants, seven thick inches of purple silicone that never fails to make you scream. you don't waste time, both of your hands coming up to grip her thighs, pressing a kiss to the tip of the strap as your eyes flick up to catch hers.

sevika always loses her mind when you suck her strap, swears she can feel it, swears it's the hottest thing in the world to watch. she's cum from it a few times when she's particularly desperate, and it never fails to get you soaking fucking wet watching her fall apart above you.

sevika snakes a hand into your hair, gripping at the roots. she guides your head down the strap, and you keep your eyes locked on hers as you relax your throat and take her to the hilt.

tears begin to well in your eyes as sevika holds you down on her cock, and she waits until they fall down your cheeks before pulling you off to let you breathe. "shit baby, you're so fuckin' good at that." she whispers as you gasp to catch your breath.

you grin and spit on her strap, giggling as her hips jolt. you jerk the silicone up and down, pressing kisses on every inch of the shaft, soaking it in your saliva, never letting your eyes leave sevika's unless it's to close your eyes as you moan.

taking the strap back into your mouth, you begin to bob your head up and down, nasty gagging and squelching sounds starting up from between your lips. "g-god fuck." sevika whines. "shit listen to you. fuckin' gaggin' on it, huh baby?" you nod up at her. she tightens her grip on your hair and you relax, allowing your wife to control your movements as she begins to throat fuck you.

"f-f-fuck honey, shit." sevika grunts as she starts thrusting her hips up into your mouth. your clit is throbbing in your panties, and you're sure you've soaked them through by now. clenching your thighs together brings you some relief, but nowhere near enough.

when you snake one of your hands away from where you were gripping her thighs to rub between your legs, sevika groans.

"fuckin' touching yourself, baby?" she asks. you whimper, two of your fingers easily sliding inside of your sopping wet hole. "fuck, you're so nasty. getting off on this. shit is that you?" sevika asks when the wet sloshing sounds of your fingers massaging your inner walls start. you whimper around her cock in response. "jesus fucking christ." sevika growls. "get the fuck up here. lemme feel how wet that pussy is for me."

before you know what's happening, she's pulling you off her cock and back up into her lap.

your chin, neck, and the front of your t-shirt are soaked in your drool, a small puddle of your saliva's grown at the base of sevika's strap, which prods deliciously against your cunt as you get comfortable in her arms again. she hugs you to her chest, pressing kisses against you everywhere she can reach, into your hair, against the tear tracks on your cheeks, down your neck. she hugs your waist with one hand, and with the other, she pulls your panties to the side and starts rubbing your wet cunt.

"need something?" she teases as you twitch against her hold. you bite her neck and reach down to grab her wrist, pushing her fingers toward your hole.

"gotta stretch me out before i can take your dick, baby." you whisper. a shiver runs down sevika's spine. "and your fingers feel so much better than mine." you say. sevika groans and she slides her pointer finger into you. your thighs quake. "m-more i can take more, 'm wet enough for more baby." you gasp when she shoves a second finger inside you.

"feel good?" she whispers against your ear as you grind down on her fingers. she starts shallow thrusts in and out of your cunt, pushing against your g spot on each thrust.

"m-m-more." you whisper, orgasm creeping up on you. "another sev, please, you're gonna make me cum." she growls as she begins fucking a third finger in your cunt. the stretch stings, sevika's thick fingers bullying their way into your pussy, and you whimper and whine until her third finger finally slides in along side her other two. your pussy clenches, and her fingers press right up against your g spot, and you see stars.

"fuckin' cum for me." sevika growls. "cum on my fingers then i'll make you cum on my cock." you gasp. "fuck, you're soaking my hand honey." she whispers, grinding her fingers inside you as her palm rubs against your clit. you bite down on her neck, your thighs shaking, your back arching. "there you go baby, there you go. so perfect for me. such a good mouth. such a good cunt, baby, shit. takin' me so perfectly, you're gonna look so good all fucked out and dumb riding my cock."

you gasp and cum, her words going straight to your cunt. "fuckin' good girl, just like that. i fuckin' love you, holy shit, look at you." sevika babbles as you tremble in her hold. "shit baby. 'm gonna knock you up." she whispers in awe as you collapse against her, the last waves of your orgasm dying down.

you chuckle at her words, kissing her neck as you try to catch your breath.

sevika rubs your back with her free hand, peppering kisses against your head.

when you pull back to look her in the eyes, you melt. she's looking at you with a lovesick expression, the same expression she wore after the first time you kissed her, the same expression she wore watching you walk down the aisle, the same expression she wears every time you cum for her. you grin and lean forward to kiss her sappy smile off her face.

as you kiss her, you grab her wrist where her fingers are still buried inside you. you whine as you help her ease her thick fingers out of your cunt, the emptiness after the lovely stretch of your wife's fingers feeling foreign.

"you okay?" sevika asks against your lips. you pull away nodding. with a gentle tug, you bring her hand up to your face. sevika looks confused until you open your mouth for her-- lust quickly overtaking her features as she shudders.

she shoves her fingers in your mouth and the two of you moan simultaneously: you at the taste of your cum on your wife's fingers, sevika at the feeling of your tongue and lips sucking on her fingers.

"you're fuckin' nasty" she whispers, impressed. you chuckle around her fingers. you've been using the same few moves on sevika since you met, and she's just as shocked and turned on each and every time.

she shoves her fingers deep as they'll go, watching as your drool starts collecting and sliding down her hand and your chin, before pulling her hand away and smashing her lips against yours, shoving her tongue in her mouth like she was trying to get just as deep as her fingers were. one of her hands reaches back to grip your ass, the other snakes up your shirt to squeeze your tits. you reach behind you to guide her strap toward your cunt, huffing in frustration as you struggle to line her up right.

sevika pulls away from your mouth with a pop, spit strings connecting the two of you as she pulls away. you gasp for air as she reaches down to help you hold the strap up. "here you go baby." she whispers.

she's so sweet it almost makes you feel bad for what you're about to do to her.

almost.

you smile up at her, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips as she guides the tip of the strap inside you. the strap and your cunt are both so slippery that even with the two of you coordinating and guiding it, it takes a few tries to get it in.

when the tip does slide in, though, you both moan simultaneously. (you laugh a bit, because sevika can't even see the strap but she somehow knows it's inside you. she always swears she can feel you through it, and you're starting to think she really can)

her hands clutch at your hips, trying to be patient, but after so long together you can see the desperation creeping up on her. it's in the way her hold on you has become bruising, in the way her pupils are blown so wide she looks fucking high, in the way she's shuffling her feet beneath the two of you, trying to keep from thrusting into you. she's so sweet to you, so good, and you're about to break her poor heart, so you lean forward and give her a nasty kiss before pulling away and ripping your shirt over your head, determined to give her a good show.

sevika's gaze snaps to your tits, a grin growing on her lips, and you arch your back as you slowly sink down on her cock, giving her a good view of her slowly disappearing inside you.

your legs are shaking by the time you're sat on her lap, her strap buried inside you. "fuck-" you whisper. sevika gulps.

"you okay?" she asks. you close your eyes and nod, biting your lip and grinding tiny little circles against her. you both shudder at the movement.

you finally compose yourself, stilling your movements, taking a deep breath, and opening your eyes. your lovely wife is studying your body with a furrow between her brows, lip between her teeth, looking at you with the same intensity she was looking at her work earlier. though she looks much less bored this time. you gulp.

"sev." you whisper. her eyes snap up to yours. a nervous flutter flashes through your stomach when your eyes meet. sevika looks like she's gonna eat you alive. shit.

in an effort to placate her before you rip the bandaid off, you start gently scratching her scalp, running your fingers through her hair like you always do at night when you're trying to lull sevika to sleep. some of the tension leaves her body, she melts into her seat, sighing and blinking slowly at you. "sevika." you say, gathering your bravery, trying not to smile with nerves and betray yourself.

"yeah baby?" she asks. fuck. her voice sounds like sex.

you lean forward, pressing your body against hers, burying your head into her neck, pressing a gentle kiss there before nuzzling in and sighing. "you better hurry up and finish your work if you wanna fuck me before i fall asleep." you say.

sevika freezes. you close your eyes and bite your lip and wait for her to speak.

you hear the sound of her mouth opening and closing. like she's trying to talk but no words are coming out. you sneak a glance at her, and grin.

sevika looks shocked. her mouth is wide open, her eyes are widened in surprise, her brows reaching for her hairline. her hands are suspended in the air like she's not sure what to do with them.

you make the mistake of giggling, and her eyes snap to yours.

"you..." she whispers, eyes flashing from your cunt to your face to your hand still running through her hair. "are you serious?" she asks, dumbfounded.

you try your best to look innocent, widening your eyes, like who me? biting your lip in an attempt to hide your guilty smile. if the incredulous smirk sevika's face morphs into at the sight of you is anything to go by-- your attempt at innocence fails.

it's a stand off for a minute, sevika waiting for you to break, you waiting for sevika to get back to work.

you lean forward and give her nose a little kiss pulling her glasses back down and straightening them on her nose, tucking her hair behind her ears. "dont forget to eat your dinner too, baby" you whisper, settling back down against her shoulder.

your heart is pounding against your chest and your cunt is pounding around sevika's strap. you close your eyes, taking a shaky breath, waiting for her to react. for a minute, she does nothing, her hands suspended in midair.

then, she scoffs, sniffs, clears her throat, and picks up her pencil. the gentle scratch of pencil against paper fills the room and you grin in victory against her throat. she must feel the curve of your smile against her neck, because sevika scoffs and shakes her head above you, then she brings her free hand down on your ass with a resounding smack.

you gasp, your hips jolting in shock, causing you both to moan. sevika swallows hard, takes a deep breath, and gets back to scratching numbers behind you.

it takes you ten solid minutes to get your heart rate under control, but eventually, you and sevika start to sag into each other more and more. you sigh into her neck as the tension in your back slowly melts away, and she presses a gentle kiss against your scalp in return.

at one point, she stops writing, and takes a couple bites of her dinner, grunting as she does. she squeezes your ass and mumbles against your head "'s really good babe. thank you." you hum a happy sound and kiss her neck.

the hand on your ass starts to gently trace little numbers in your skin, which is so fucking cute it makes you a little dizzy. you have to bite your tongue to keep from kissing her senseless and breaking her focus.

your breath catches in your throat every other minute when sevika will intermittently claw your ass like a stress toy as she mutters under her breath, cursing her calculator, or a client, and occasionally just silco himself for "talkin' me into this fucking business shit." like she hasn't been doing 'this fucking business shit' for over a decade now.

she pushes her head into your hand when your scratching stops, like a cat demanding more attention. you giggle and begin to play with her hair again. she sighs sweetly in thanks.

eventually sevika snaps one folder closed and opens another. she jostles you a bit in the process. "sorry baby." she mumbles. you hum.

"'s okay."

"you're not falling asleep are you?" she asks suddenly, panicked, her grip on your ass tightening. you laugh.

"not yet."

"you tired?" she asks. you are, but nowhere near tired enough to fall asleep with sevika's cock buried inside you. still, you decide to tease her.

"a little."

"tell me about your day." she demands. you scoff, but start talking regardless.

you mumble against sevika's neck for a while she works behind you and hums and laughs at your words. after a while you trail off and run out of things to say, so sevika starts speaking in short little bursts between tasks and problems. what she ate for breakfast. the guy she watched step in dog shit this morning, how he almost caught her laughing. that she hates the arm exercises her new physical therapist gave her.

as time goes on, sevika's mindless groping of your ass becomes a little more intentional. her hips beneath you start shifting minutely, intermittent at first, but soon she's just grinding up into you. you bite your lip, trying to ignore her, but she just takes it as a challenge.

"i'm still trying to decide if i'm impressed or betrayed by your little stunt." she grunts out. you chuckle nervously.

"fuckin' dramatic." you whisper. "'m just trying to make sure you keep your job. like a responsible wife."

"like a tease."

"that too." you giggle.

suddenly, sevika's got both her hands on your hips, grinding you down onto her strap hard. you squeal.

"fuck sev!" you curse. "you--you've gotta do your work first." you say as your hands go flying down to grip her wrists. she grins at you.

"just finished." she growls.

you gulp, your cunt clencing, your heart rate picking up. you give up on trying to control the way sevika's grinding you against her lap, instead just holding your breath in anticipation of what she's gonna do to you.

"so whaddya think?" she asks. you whimper.

"'bout what?"

"should i feel betrayed or impressed?" you smile, leaning forward to kiss sevika.

"impressed. duh." you whisper against her lips. "got you to finish your work twice as fast." you say with a waggle of your eyebrows. sevika chuckles and shakes her head in amusement. she leans forward and gives you a sweet little kiss. you hum against her lips, only to screech when in a flash, sevika shoots up with you in her arms, setting you down on the desk in front of her, pinning your legs by up under your shoulders and looming down over you. you blink.

"dont make too much of a mess, baby, i gotta give these papers to silco tomorrow." is the only warning you get before she's pistoning her hips in and out of you at a brutal pace.

you scream and sevika grins.

"what'd you think was gonna happen, babe? thought you were gonna tease me like that 'n get away with it?" your hands flail, clawing at papers, before smoothing them out, then reaching up to claw at sevika instead. "huh?" she asks. you blink, then shake your head no with a chuckle. "no?" she asks, surprised. you laugh.

"knew i wouldn't get away with it. that's half the fun, sev." you whisper. she laughs and ducks down to kiss you.

"you're an evil fuckin' genius, baby." she says against your lips between panting breaths as she fucks you at a brutal pace.

your cunt is squelching between the two of you and sevika shakes her head in admonishment. "fuck did i say honey?" she spits. you huff. "told you not to get messy and you're already laying in a puddle." she growls against you.

"c-can't help it." you whine.

"no?"

"feels- fuck- feels so good baby." you moan. sevika growls, pressing one last firm kiss onto your lips before pulling away completely.

she pulls back, pulls her strap out of you, lets go of your legs, leaves you spread out and fucked open on the middle of her desk, whining and empty.

"fuck, you're pretty." she whispers. she grins down at you for a second, reaches forward to tweak your nipples, and then she's flipping you over.

you land on your stomach with a grunt, a shiver running down your spine as sevika presses your face down against her desk with one of her hands and guides her cock inside you with the other.

"fuck!" you gasp. sevika chuckles, starts fucking you with shallow little thrusts as she gropes your ass. "sevika." you whine.

"what's wrong baby?" she asks, chuckling as she watches you twitch and writhe beneath her.

"deeper, please." you ask. she hums, hitches one of your legs up on to the desk beside you, then slides all the way inside.

you whimper. the new angle makes her cock feel two inches bigger.

"that good enough for you?" sevika spits from above you. "huh? your greedy cunt finally satisfied baby?" she asks. you nearly cum at her words.

"sevika!" you gasp out. she laughs and starts grinding deep little circles into you.

"fuck. love watching your cunt clench around me like that baby. so fuckin' pretty. you're creamin' all over me baby, shit." sevika rambles. your eyes roll back in your head and you start rambling, desprate and needy.

"sevika, sev, baby, fuck me. please honey, fuck me hard and deep and fa-- ah!" you shriek as sevika starts fucking you. "oh fuck!" you screech. "fuck! just like that!" sevika presses down against your head and leg harder, pinning you to the desk as she picks up her pace.

she's growling behind you, but it's barely audible over your wailing and the smacking sounds of her hips meeting your ass, the squelching sounds that start back up between the two of you again.

"fuck." she whispers. you giggle when you hear it.

"feel good baby?" you taunt. sevika grunts. "god you're so deep, 'm not gonna be able to walk tomorrow." you gasp out. sevika leans down to begin biting at your back and shoulders, her thrusts getting sloppier the more you talk. you smile. "gonna cum inside this pussy, baby?" you ask her as sweetly as you can while swallowing back moans and whimpers.

sevika's hips stutter and she bites your shoulder, groaning against you. "gonna get you fuckin' pregnant." she whispers. you jolt against her at the words and she chuckles. "you gotta cum for me first, though." she whispers.

"'s gonna be messy." you choke. sevika coos down at you and you bite your lip.

"that's okay baby, you can be messy. i put all the important shit away. was just teasing you earlier."

"you're so mean." you whine. sevika grins, then pinches your clit.

"yeah, but it gets you so wet." she grunts. you gasp beneath her and she chuckles. "gonna cum?" she asks. you squeak, your thighs starting to shake. "i can tell. can feel this pussy clenching around me. fuck, you're so perfect baby." you gasp, your orgasm creeping up on you.

"sev--" you scramble and claw at the papers littering the desk, looking for something to hold onto as you start to fall apart. sevika presses kisses to your shoulder, cheek and back as she fucks you impossibly faster. "sevika i'm--!" you squeak out. sevika chuckles behind you.

"do it baby." she grunts.

with one final squeak you cum, soaking your thighs. "fuuuuck." sevika curses as she continues to fucking you until you're twitching.

she moves her hand away from your clit when you start to whine, sinking it into your hip as she starts drilling into your cunt with reckless abandon, chasing her own release.

you struggle to catch your breath, still so sensitive from your own orgasm that you cant do much but lay limp on the desk. "y-you gonna..." you gasp, "gonna cum sev?" you whimper. she grunts. "gonna cum inside me?" you ask. she responds with a grunt and a hand smacking your ass.

"f-f-f--" she says, clawing your ass.

"yeah, yeah, yeah, sev, cum inside me, please, want you to feel good baby."

"fuck!" she shouts as she cums, burying her cock deep inside you and grinding against your ass as she shakes. "shit, baby, fuckin' take it, just like that." she grunts. you hum happily beneath her as she twitches against you.

its quiet for a second as she catches her breath behind you, but then she flops forward, pinning you to the desk with her full body weight.

you giggle and moan as she nuzzles into your neck, breathing you in as she comes down from her orgasm. "fuck baby." she grumbles on top of you. you giggle.

"mmm." you hum beneath her. "i want a bath." you whisper. sevika grunts on top of you. you let her rest for a minute before speaking again.

"and a snack." you say. she huffs against you.

"sevika." you say after a minute. she hums. "if you run us a bath, i'll still give you that back massage." you offer. she lifts her head up in consideration. you chuckle.

"in the bath or in bed?"

"whichever you want."

"you making the snack?"

"if you help me walk to the kitchen and back."

it's silent as she considers your terms, then finally, she groans as she lifts off of you to stand. with a gentle pat to your ass, sevika pulls the strap out. you flinch, and she kisses your back in apology.

you stay melted to the desk as sevika undresses behind you, only moving once she finally reaches down to help you up.

she gathers you in her arms, pressing kisses to your face and head. you giggle against her.

"hi." she says with a sweet smile. you grin, leaning in to brush your lips against her.

"hey, sexy."

"thanks for the motivation." she whispers against your lips. you giggle.

"anytime, baby." you promise.

she seals your promise with a kiss.

[octuscle]

Hi Chronivac or Suitcase people! I'm looking for a change in my life like working with my body rather than with my brain, living in the north rather than in the south, being poor but happy rather than wealthy and unhappy, being a player rather than the relationship-guy and so on. I hope for your help

Dude, seriously, if you're going to do it, do it! Why only half the cake? Why not work with your awesome body, live on the beach in the south, be rich and happy and take everything that comes along? Somehow that sounds much better… At least for me… I have another suitcase for you, labeled MVD. Filled with everything you need for a basic jet-set influencer beach vacation. Beachwear from Vilebrequin, sportswear from Balenciaga, a little something for the evening from Prada and co. And a hotel voucher for The Grand Hotel in Punta del Este. Just for the weekend. After that, it's off to Buenos Aires for you and then you'll have to see…

Shit, the brand new iPhone alone, which you're holding in your freshly manicured hands, costs more than you've paid in rent for your miserable apartment in six months. You don't even want to know what the entire contents of this suitcase cost. But how do you get to this Punta del Este now? And where is it anyway? You look at your new cell phone. Your tickets are in the wallet. First to Madrid, and then on to Montevideo. Premium Economy. Sounds great, you've never had that before. Should you put something on straight from your suitcase? Better not. You should take it easy on your clothes. But maybe one of those T-shirts from Balenciaga. A quick look in the mirror… Okay, better not, maybe a little tight around the hips. You're not changing.

When you check in your suitcase, the ground staff lady flirts with you. She asks why you've joined the queue with all the tourists. As an Emerald customer with oneworld, you should have been allowed to use the first class check-in. She asks if she can upgrade you to Business Class as compensation. You don't say no.

You can get used to the lounge. It's better than waiting outside in the aisles. The toilets are also better. And when you look in the mirror, you think that they must be playing tricks with the light. You look younger and more relaxed. And were you wearing that immaculate white shirt just now? Somehow the champagne seems to be going to your head. You almost missed the boarding call.

The lounge was cool, but flying in Business Class is really awesome! There aren't many passengers up here. But somehow you get the impression that everyone is just looking after you. Like a real VIP. You take a selfie of yourself and the purser. Later for Instagram. The Iberia logo well placed. You have to show your appreciation somehow. In Madrid, you send the two pictures out. The second one with the pilot. He says it was an honor to fly you. They're getting a bit carried away… They're making fun of you!

When you go through passport control at the terminal change, you first think you've put the wrong passport in your pocket. Cool picture! But it doesn't look like you. You check it out as best you can in the reflection of a window pane. Yes, the angular features, the piercing blue eyes… It all fits.

It's getting better and better. Instead of your connecting flight being called for boarding, a member of ground staff comes by in the lounge, takes your bag and accompanies you to the gate. You're already in the mood for a glass of champagne. But alcohol is only compatible with your six-pack to a limited extent. Besides, it's already late and you should get some sleep. You have more than enough room. So apply your night cream, put on your sleep pods and put on your sleeping goggles. And when you wake up rested after almost nine hours, you hear the first signs that the breakfast service is about to start. You hear the flight attendants gossiping. One of them says that you looked like Cupid while you were sleeping and that you could shoot him with your arrows. They obviously have no idea that you speak Spanish. You let them believe that you don't understand them.

Actually, you would have liked to have taken a closer look at Montevideo. But you don't have time for that. The season in Punta del Este is as good as over, so if you want to boost your mid-season business, you need a few pictures of the sunset. And you get paid quite well for boosting the mid-season business a little.

It's actually a bit too cold at the end of March for topless shots. But your nipples look even better this way. "End of a hot day, beginning of a hot night at the most beautiful end of the world" you write under the picture. 3K likes in half an hour. You are worth your money!

[frasier-crane-style]

Blue Beetle (2023)

Blue Beetle reminds me mostly of the first Amazing Spider-Man movie. It's not capital-B bad, but it could be a lot better. Part of it is that Angel Manuel Soto, like Marc Webb, simply isn't a cinematic genius like Sam Raimi.

Another is that the adaptation changes a lot of the source material, not to make it more interesting or anything, but to make it MORE generic. The plot is almost exactly like Ant-Man, for fuck's sake.

OG hero used to run a benevolent corporation, but he's been forced out by the villain, who wants to use his tech for military purposes (wait, wouldn't that mean we'd be sending all that evil military technology over to Ukraine to help fight Putin? I guess we're not supposed to think about that.) Legacy hero stumbles into the OG hero's tech and gets help from OG hero's daughter to take back the corporation. There's similar wholesale plagiarism from the Iron Man and Spider-Man movies (how many missiles are there that have manufacturer logos on them, really?).

Another weirdness is that in the comics, Jaime actually has friends. In the movie, the only people he ever talks to are his family, his love interest, and the villains (which doesn't stop the movie from doing a THE IMPORTANCE OF COMMUNITY epilogue--yeah, where were you guys when the Reyes family was getting their shit pushed in on the front lawn?). It's odd to think nerdy loser Peter Parker was at least friends with Harry and on speaking terms with MJ, while clean-cut, handsome everyman Jaime has no social skills.

It's not saying much, but the movie is a little better at tone than modern Marvel. It plays way too many pop songs during serious moments, but it can also shut up at times. It still gets cartoony as hell with Jaime's grandma turning into John Wick--yeah, she kills people with a machine gun--and his uncle knowing how to pilot a hover-ship--which doesn't mesh well with the director dropping references to social issues like they're Green Lantern story arcs. Okay, are we a wacky cartoon or are we trying to make a statement about gentrification? I guess both!

Speaking of which, the movie keeps Jaime's no-kill rule, but lets his family blow up, blast, and even fucking IMPALE henchmen like there's no tomorrow. And it makes a point of having sympathetic villains and spelling out how desperately the disadvantaged Reyes family needs jobs. I guess none of those mooks just needed to pay for their family home. They all willingly chose to do evil by... working for a legitimate military contractor and trying to recover stolen property/guard private property.

And it's another movie where they make the villains cartoonishly racist instead of faux progressive like any real evil billionaire would be. There's a bit where a receptionist is told Jaime's name when he introduces himself (pronounced Haime) and she keeps mispronouncing it Jamie because... she knows how it's spelled and she's willingly pronouncing it the Anglo way instead of how he just told her it was pronounced? Like this sort of thing wouldn't immediately get recorded, posted on Twitter, and end up costing her her job? But, you know, I guess that's a sign of how evil Victoria Kord is, that she's carefully choosing racist receptionists who assume that a Mexican in a business suit must be a deliveryman.

That whole sequence... which is how Jaime gets his powers... is kinda a mess. Okay, he texts Jenny Kord for a job interview, but she doesn't know he's coming or set an appointment, because that's when she's stealing the Scarab. So I guess this pre-law college grad just decided to show up at Kord Industries and lie about having an appointment with a member of the board... so he could get a job interview... instead of waiting for her to text him back?

I know the movie is about alien technology and flying superheroes, but can we at least have them act like real people when it comes to things like job interviews, when everyone in the audience knows how those work?

Still, the movie stays mostly on the rails until the third act, where you get a patent example of just how bad modern blockbuster making has gotten. Everywhere Raimi's Spider-Man movies were smooth, streamlined, and organic, this movie's third act is cluttered and clumsy. Jaime himself is sidelined for an unbelievable interval, while every member of his family gets a hero moment and/or a pep talk to give to Jaime. They all blend together, but I wouldn't be surprised if some of them got more than one.

And still the climax crams in more STUFF, from a last-minute redemption arc (again, more than one!) to a teachable moment between Jaime and his AI. None of this comes across as earned or stirring. And there's an unforgivable bit where Jaime's final power-up is blended with the villain going Super Saiyan and yet more side characters setting off one in a long line of explosives.

There's some many obviously cruddy writing moments like that. There's a scene where Jaime and Jenny easily escape pursuit, right next to a scene where they have their first encounter with the villainous Carapax in the exact same circumstances... couldn't some of that be merged or dumped so we had more time to spend on the development that's shoved in willy-nilly?

I'm not saying the first Spider-Man was Shakespeare, but we got a good idea of Peter, May, Mary Jane, Harry, Norman, and how they all related to each other... even foreshadowing of where their paths would continue on in future movies. In the last five minutes of Blue Beetle, they're still explaining Carapax's motivation! His last words are basically "I just remembered my backstory!" No, director-man, you gotta weave that into the narrative. We can't care about something when we heard about it for the first time ten seconds ago!

[duckapus]

So I came up with the beginnings of an idea for an SMG4 fangame that I am never ever ever going to be able to make because I have no programming skills whatsoever.

The story starts with Boopkins showing up at the castle with a new manga that he bought from Wizard Rock who claimed it was enchanted. Some of the crew is interested, but Bob, Meggy and Saiko are pretty sure he got scammed and Mario doesn't really care because he's too busy seducing a plate of spaghetti. They read through the start, which is mostly just an introduction to the setting and villain (which I haven't come up with yet), but when they get to where the main plot would start it shows...Boopkins coming to the castle with his new manga, and blank spaces where the panels past the point in time where they are now.

Then the manga glows and sucks in SMG4, Mario, Meggy, Bob and Boopkins, landing in a grassy field in chibi 2D forms, and in Boopkins' case as a round floating fish with no legs, they get their bearings and see a fancy tower nearby just past a tutorial-y platforming section, and gameplay starts.

It'd be a four player Metroidvania (this is the point where I admit that I came up with this while watching a walkthrough of Disney Illusion Island) in some kind of fantasy setting. The four playable characters are functionally identical with unique animations, so for example their basic attack involves Mario doing his standard punch-punch-kick, Bob slashing with his swords, Meggy doing kickboxing moves, and 4 wildly flailing a keyboard in front of him. Boopkins floats around with them since he's the Exposition Fairy and he holds onto whoever gets knocked out until the group reaches the next checkpoint, or takes them back to the last one if they're all knocked out.

The tower they're headed towards is owned by a local wizard who was Wizard Rock's roommate in Magic College and asked for his help in summoning a team of heroes who could save the realm. The group obviously agrees (somewhat reluctantly in Mario and Bob's case) or else we wouldn't have a story, and he kits them out with their first upgrade; Projectile weapons. Mario gets special gloves that let him shoot fireballs without a Fire Flower, Meggy gets a magic crossbow that never runs out of bolts, SMG4 gets a wand that lets him conjure small objects formed from his imagination (memes. he's yeeting memes out of a stick), and Bob gets...a small cannon that he can shoot Boopkins out of. Don't worry about Boopkins, the same spell that brought them here and turned him into a little flying fish also made him indestructible. He's still useless in a fight unless Bob is using him as a projectile though.

Also, when the characters get knocked out they turn into little tokens until they're revived at a checkpoint, which is how Boopkins is carrying them around. They look like that high quality Beeg SMG4 in the new "SMG4 Crew" logo, except Bob's is triangular instead of round to fit the poncho look of his robes.

And that's all I got so far.

[pansexualkiba]

i love how utterly fucking abysmal The Wild (2006) is. it's a horrible movie, and not even in a fun way. it's agony to watch. literally don't watch this movie. it's like. okay hold on.

so we all know how Disney's business plans worked in the late nineties to mid oughts, right? here's the big three:

appeal to the teens. because, ysee, word on the cool cat street was that disney just wasnt jivin with those rad hip youngsters, the teens. this was because then-CEO michael eisner learned his teenage son thought disney was like, soooo whatever. so in order to appeal to a wider demographic that potentially had money to spend on disney, Eisner would purposefully have things appeal to teens. or, at least, a 40-year-old's idea of what teens were like in the 1970s.

one-up Dreamworks Pictures. any disney fan will tell you that Michael Eisner and Jeffery Katzenberg were BEEFING, and this was reflected in the Disney-Dreamworks feud, not LEAST of which was that Dreamworks was created because Katzenberg was passed up for CEO in favor of Eisner.

jealousy. the most famous examples of this are Disneyland's California Adventure (a famously California-themed area in the California Disney park in the middle of the California-themed California) and Animal Kingdom (an entire third zoological park built just thirty minutes away from the famously safari-themed Busch Gardens (complete with live giraffes!) in Tampa, FL). if someone else did an idea, Eisner would try to have Disney do it better.

we caught up on that? good. most of you will be pointing something out by now: Eisner left disney in late 2005! The Wild was released in 2006! there's literally no way he could have been involved! which, ignoring how long movies take to make, COULD make this whole thing not an issue... except for one little event that happened in 2005. a little Dreamworks movie that was taking america by storm. the little-known snuff film... Madagascar (2005), released by Dreamworks to insane success. kids LOVED Madagascar, they loved King Julien, they loved the funny talking animals, they loved the use of old songs for fun interstitial plot beats, and they ESPECIALLY loved those silly little spy penguins. critics thought it was juvenile, however, so Madagascar now sits at a middling, but still positive, 55% critical reception on RT.

for a fun game, imagine for yourself what The Wild, released by Disney in 2006, could have a rating of. Go ahead, without looking it up, guess. we'll come back to that.

now, what i'm saying here isn't substantiated and the timeline doesn't exactly work, but hear me out. The Wild was often criticized for ripping off not only similar to Madagascar, but also The Lion King. Disney and Dreamworks's little pissing contest wasn't exactly subtle, and Eisner's jealousy when he saw how that stupid little animal movie was going over like gangbusters would've been enough for him to greenlight a similar idea, but with that little disney twist. and then he left, like a rat on a ship.

let's discuss the plot of The Wild.

we hear Samson the Lion start with telling someone a story about a previous fight he had had in The Wild, which is apparently just Africa. the logo is happening, yknow with the little firework line making an arc over the castle? except the much-younger teenage son then keeps interrupting by saying he's heard this story, and the firework keeps getting pulled back to the start in Comedic Fashion. the story is about how Samson, who apparently has sonic fucking roars, sent a bunch of wildebeests flying into the horizon, but then they had a big beefy furry wildebeest in the background who was like 46 feet tall. the son, Ryan the Lion, says he can feel the roar coming up, and Samson tells him to let loose, and Ryan does an alley cat soundbite because they didn't want to go to the Central Park Zoo and record actual lion cub noises.

By the way, this movie IS, in fact, opening in the Central Park Zoo. because we couldn't be more obvious. Samson the Lion is appropriately very famous, but not more famous than Nigel the Koala (voiced by Eddie Izzard), who is the basis of "the most popular doll in america", a pullstring plush koala that has two phrases: "I'm so cuddly; I like you!" and "I'm having a really nice day!". anyways, similar to madagascar, when the Central Park Zoo closes for the night, all the animals just get out and mingle. every single animal has a very distinct accent for some reason, as well??

anyways we're at this point introduced to the other main characters and their running jokes: Benny the Squirrel, whose joke is that he can't take a fucking hint; Bridgette the Giraffe, who is every sitcom woman in one and the unwilling target of Benny's affections; Nigel, who is extremely surly and the worst character in the movie; and Larry, a burmese python whose running gag is that he's stupid but sometimes he says something smart.

i'd like to just take an aside here to tell you all that Larry, despite being the idiot comic relief, ended up being my favorite character in the entire movie because the movie keeps forgetting he's supposed to be stupid?? like he'll just keep being very observant, but because every so often he'll drift into a nonsequitor all of his friends will angrily tell him to shut the fuck up, but it's like - bro he's the only one who's making sense. like at the end of the movie he puts forward an idea and before anyone can respond he goes "yeah, yeah, i know, shut up Larry :(" and it's like. bro get better friends.

anyways through a wacky series of events, Ryan's attempts to stop his friends from causing a Gazelle stampede cause the gazelles to stampede, and despite all of Ryans efforts to stop the stampede he caused, they run through the Turtle Curling competition the Samson is trying to win, costing Samson the Big Game, which means we gotta have Samson and Ryan having a big fight. i should mention that Ryan is insecure that he can't roar despite literally being prepubescent, and Samson is just like "are you acting up all because you can't roar?!" like DUDE THAT IS YOUR SON AND HE IS EIGHT. HIS VOICE HASN'T EVEN CRACKED YET.

Ryan then runs off to the green shipping crates that are being sent to New York's Harbor, and Samson and Benny go off to save Ryan after the workers somehow fucking miss the lion cub sleeping in broad fucking daylight. the dynamic duo is then joined by Bridgette (who knocks Benny off the truck), Nigel, and Larry. we then get a montage set to, and i am not fucking kidding, Clocks by Coldplay, where the animals experience the mysteriously-empty Times Square for the first time. more uhhhhh Wacky Hijinks ensue, and the rescue party are too late to get onto the cargo ship heading to africa, so they COMANDEER A PONTOON and tail the ship - after Benny rejoins them.

and here's where it gets to the point where i realized this movie was trying TOO hard to be dreamworks. if you'll recall, dreamworks likes to sneak in adult jokes, like famously Shrek looking at Duloc and going "do you think he's compensating for something". yknow, little innuendos like that.

Benny, having ridden in on a flock of Canadian Geese that mysteriously vanish after this scene after being hired as navigators, turns to Bridgette and, in an attempt to flirt with her, says that he's an expert goose rider, and that he rides bareback, and then slaps his flank.

it was becoming clear to me that every character was slowly becoming unmanageable to feel sympathy for.

after what would be, realistically, a few months - much too long for a pontoon to remain fueled, and WELL too long for a ship with passengers and sans supplies to remain populated, they reach the shores of Africa, which is... well it's not the shores of Madagascar, despite it literally being exactly like that scene in Madagascar where the animals are beholden to the rich jungles of madagascar. but for some reason this area of Africa not only has rich jungles, but ALSO an ACTIVE VOLCANO centrally located in the jungle. this is the purpose of the green transport crates: the wild animals are being rescued from an impending eruption. this is never brought up, but Ryan confuses the situation despite spending LITERAL MONTHS on that ship and potentially- actually

now that i'm writing this out, HOW DID NO ONE ON THE FUCKING SHIP. NOTICE THEY HAD AN ADOLESCENT LION CUB ON THE- THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO BE EMPTY CRATES. THEY WOULDN'T HAVE. NOTICED THE. LION CUB???? PROBABLY MEWLING FOR HELP???? IN A CONTAINER WITH OPEN-AIR WINDOWS????? BRO????

anyways Ryan runs into The Wild, and Samson and friends run after Ryan but lose him somehow. Samson, whose main character trait is that everyone else is saying that he always talks about being a real child of the Wilderness (notice that Samson himself never backs this up), eventually comes clean about his past after a scene with a hyrax that goes WAY too long in anyone's opinion - Samson was sold to the zoo after being raised in the circus. Samson was Ryan's age, as in like eight years old, when he was forced to attempt to roar in front of an audience, and when he couldn't because he was eight, he was SOLD TO THE ZOO. and his father's parting words were "if you had been born in the wild, you would have been able to roar" LIKE SIR YOUR SON IS STILL A CHILD DOMESTICATION DOESN'T MEAN YOU CAN'T FUCKING- HELLO???

anyways everyone treats this as some Big Betrayal, and Samson goes off on his own to find Ryan. meanwhile Nigel gets kidnapped by wildebeests.

yes, there are wildebeests living in this fucking jungle.

Nigel is then brought to the ACTIVE VOLCANO, where the WILDEBEESTS HAVE STARTED A DEATH CULT. they are led by William Shatner Wildebeest whose name i have forgotten because despite being the main antagonist he was revealed fifty minutes into a seventy-minute movie. turns out, one of those Nigel dolls fell off of a cropduster plane over this nondescript african jungle, interrupting a lion hunt against this wildebeest despite the fact that neither of these animals live in the jungle. the pullstring then scared the lions into fleeing, and Shatbeest took this as an OMEN FROM GOD to START A DEATH CULT where ALL WILDEBEESTS WILL BECOME CARNIVORES AND ALL LIONS WILL BECOME HERBIVORES. also he made a whole song out of the "I'm having a really nice day!" voiceline complete with choreography. this is somehow not only plot important but also instrumental in his downfall.

anyways Nigel immediately gets drunk with power because he has no morals and is the worst character in the movie.

the wildebeests kidnap Bridgette and Larry and knock Benny out. have you noticed Benny just keeps getting put offscreen so he can solve the plot later? anyways Samson hallucinates dr seuss colors because he's activating his "predator instincts" to find his cub, which - red flag - but it also works. and then the wildebeests kidnap ryan after throwing Samson off a cliff, and you would not believe how much i wanted him dead so the movie would be over.

it was around this time that i realized i would much rather watch cars 2 again. my girlfriend had long since admitted that.

Benny wakes up in the middle of a bunch of German scarabs (who are all like. yodelling milkmaid types?????) who thought he was shit, and tbh yeah good call, but anyways Benny wakes up Samson who is somehow completely unharmed from being dropped off a cliff with an entire tree on top of him. Samson then has a tangible hallucination pointing them to the volcano, which he and Benny both see.

Nigel meanwhile actually has to weigh the pros and cons of siding with the wildebeests and watching them cook and eat his friends, or saving his friends. Shatbeest meanwhile REALLY wants to eat a LITERAL COWERING CHILD.

outside the volcano, we find out that Samson's hallucinations are a LITERAL LEGION OF SECRET AGENT CHAMELEONS who are trying to get people to defeat the wildebeests - which, like, WHY DID YOU NEED THESE TWO YOKELS???? YOU'RE LIKE. THERE'S A WHOLE JUNGLE OF POORLY-PLACED ANIMALS. THERE ARE OTHER LIONS IN THE JUNGLE SURELY. WHAT HAPPENED TO THE LIONS IN THE FLASHBACK??

anyways the chameleons can make benny and samson invisible by covering them and going transparent. obviously.

the finale is incredibly like. it's such a nothing finale. the chameleons barely factor into it?? like Benny and Samson are just suddenly there, and Shatbeest keeps physically overpowering Samson and later Ryan, but Shatbeest angers the other wildebeests because one of them couldn't get the choreography right and so he's kicked towards the sacrifices as one of them. and then Ryan is like "aw dad... i wish you had the father i had. :(" which like. WHEN was it explained to you what happened with your dad. you were JUST told that your dad was born in captivity you don't know WHAT HAPPENED you just IMMEDIATELY went to being mean to him. and that inspires the wildebeests to turn on Shatbeest because this is the lion king so we gotta have that hyenas eat scar scene. but then the volcano, the LITERAL ACTUAL VOLCANO EVERYONE'S BEEN INSIDE OF THIS WHOLE TIME, starts to erupt, and Shatbeest is crushed under rocks.

everyone gets to the pontoon, and Samson, Ryan, the group, the wildebeests, and for some reason the chameleons all escape just as the island erupts, and it's like, fuck all the other bitches right? anyways then we have a heartfelt moment immediately undercut by the animated movie dance party ending where Nigel the koala just starts twerking. Benny stops being sexist out of complete nowhere despite never learning his lesson and this is completely undercut by Bridgette kissing him and revealing she was into being objectified this whole time, she just wanted Benny to be Woke about it. every single character in this movie was awful (except Larry i just feel bad for him) and in my mind the movie ends with that fucking pontoon sinking in the middle of the atlantic for exceeding its weight limit.

it's such a nothing movie. every scene feels like it's from something else. my girlfriend maintains that everyone who defends this movie is a corporate shill. my experience with this movie was i watched it multiple times as a kid, and i had somehow convinced myself this WASN'T a disney movie and was instead made by one of those low-budget studios that makes a single animated film before vanishing forever. it feels like a parody of itself, like someone had made a prior movie that doesn't exist that they then warped with ten consecutive funhouse mirrors.

it feels like michael eisner's teen son tried to make madagascar but Edgy.

and now we come back to the fun game from before the cut. what was the number you came up with on rotten tomatoes? what would rotten tomatoes rate this movie that has effectively been scrubbed from disney's records? Madagascar has 55%, what could its ugly step-reflection be?

...well that's not good.

[bravenewolympus--hq]

whooooo doesn't love a gool ol' fashioned re-vamp?!?! that's right, bay-bay! brave new olympus is back after a brief hiatus! we've moved to a new server for a fresh start and we are officially open for applications! i am in the process of queueing up all of our skeletons, but in the mean time - why not come check us out on discord?!

ʙʀᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴇᴡ ᴏʟʏᴍᴘᴜꜱ : ᴀ 21+ ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ɢʀᴇᴇᴋ ᴍʏᴛʜᴏʟᴏɢʏ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏʀᴅ ʀᴏʟᴇᴘʟᴀʏ.

𝑰 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒚, 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒎𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝝂𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒖𝒆𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒏𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏 – 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝝂𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔.

they called it an offering, and zeus had always been a glutton for those, especially when it was all wrapped up with a bow and delivered by someone devastatingly beautiful. an offering, an apology from prometheus for his misdeeds, overdue penance to the one true god of all gods. she’d memorized the script, smiled and breezed her way through the offering, and all that was left was for zeus to take the bait and open the box.nothing quite like honey, or a pretty smile, to catch the proverbial fly, after all. and in the deepest corner of hades, the shackles of cronus, the once and future king, came loose. second chances, after all, are not given to make things right, but to make things even. and what was just a little more waiting, when he had already sat chained in the pit in breathless anticipation for millenia? utterly meaningless, not unlike his promises of his progeny and their better selves. he would sit, and wait, and watch as his beloved children, for all their base selfishness, tore themselves apart in the name of ambition, pride, and greed. athens, new york: an island city, all trees and marble, glass and steel and highrises set against an ocean skyline. bustling and loud, crowded, but not without a bizarre sense that it must have sprung up overnight, somehow, when surely it must have always been here, no? on a clear night, you might even be able to see the lights of its more famous cousin, new york city, across the water…if you squint hard enough. it may not get as much attention as the shiny apple across the hudson, but those not so blinded by the lights must certainly have been coming here for years. is there something in the water here, too? no one leaves, not in any meaningful way anyway. feels like it has a special way of pulling you back in, if you try. they, that is anyone who was anyone or paid even an iota of attention to the evening news, called him the minotaur. the media does love a catchy nom de guerre, doesn’t it? sells newspapers like hotcakes in the morning. ambrosia, whether it’s the latest designer drug trend or the latest pestilence sweeping the streets of athens, just depends on how tightly you clutch your pearls on sundays. must infuriate the police, don’t it? that without fail, by the time they arrive to any crime scene at all, all that’s left is the heap of little cream-coloured business cards, the red lines of a labyrinthine logo more taunting than they are helpful. between an epidemic of pearlescent powder, neatly parceled out in small plastic baggies, a tide of crimson bull graffiti, casinos and bordellos and the nightlife (oh my!), it’s no small wonder they call this an atlantic sin city. it’s a vice eat dog world, ain’t it? and anyone who calls athens home is just living in it. powerless, with no memory of their past lives, what's a god gotta do to survive? what is brave new olympus? a crime-focused take on the greek gods, demigods and heroes we know and love, loosely inspired by once upon a time, set in the human world and modern age. we call athens, new york, home: a fictional island city across the bight from the boroughs of its more famous cousin, the big apple. look for the same active nightlife, energy, culture, and art deco-style architecture here.

[fanaticsfashion]

The Timeless Allure of the Chanel Hoodie: A Fashion Statement that Transcends Seasons

When it comes to luxury fashion, few names resonate as deeply as Chanel. An epitome of style, elegance, and timeless sophistication, Chanel has been a cornerstone in the fashion world for decades. Among the brand's groundbreaking creations is a garment that brilliantly fuses casual comfort with high fashion: the Chanel Hoodie.

A Legacy of Innovation

To understand the unparalleled allure of the Chanel hoodie, it is essential to look back at the brand's history. Founded by Coco Chanel, the brand has always been a trailblazer, smashing societal norms and liberating women from the constrictive garments of the past. Just as Coco Chanel revolutionized women's fashion by popularizing pantsuits and the iconic Little Black Dress, the Chanel hoodie defies the traditional boundaries between casual and formal attire.

Beyond Casual Comfort

While hoodies have often been associated with gym wear or casual weekend outfits, Chanel’s interpretation elevates this seemingly simple garment to a work of art. Crafted from high-quality fabrics like cashmere and embellished with intricate details such as sequins, pearls, or the brand’s signature interlocking-C logo, a Chanel hoodie is anything but ordinary. It serves as a testament to the brand’s craftsmanship, where every stitch and embellishment is meticulously considered.

Versatility Personified

The versatility of the Chanel hoodie is another attribute that sets it apart. Whether you're attending a business meeting, flying first-class, or going out for a sophisticated dinner, this piece can be styled to suit a wide range of occasions. It can be effortlessly paired with tailored trousers for a sleek, professional look or styled with a pair of jeans for an elevated casual ensemble. It’s a perfect choice for those who crave comfort without compromising on style.

The Investment Factor

Admittedly, a Chanel hoodie comes with a hefty price tag, but it’s an investment in timeless fashion. Given Chanel’s unwavering reputation for quality and style, the hoodie is more than just a garment; it’s a piece of fashion history. Its value doesn't depreciate like fast fashion; instead, it retains or even appreciates in worth over time.

The Ultimate Fashion Statement

The Chanel hoodie transcends the divide between luxury and comfort, offering a unique blend that appeals to fashion connoisseurs and comfort-seekers alike. It is not just a piece of clothing; it's a statement, a representation of a brand that has stood the test of time, continually evolving without losing its core values of quality, elegance, and innovation.

So the next time you find yourself contemplating whether to invest in this luxurious piece, remember that the Chanel hoodie isn’t just a fleeting trend. It’s a timeless classic that will undoubtedly remain a significant part of fashion’s ever-evolving narrative.

[tigerkirby215]

5e Sivir, the Battle Mistress build (League of Legends)

(Artwork made for Riot Games.)

Okay I know this is completely off topic but what the hell is Sivir's pose in her base splash art? Like oh my god doesn't that hurt your back? Jesus I know proportions are hard but wow this pose is terrible lmao.

Also it has come to my attention that I unintentionally made all the Legends of Runeterra Shuriman champions. Well I mean, Rammus isn't in LoR yet. Man we do really need more Shuriman champs.

Sorry I really don't have much of a blurb beyond that. Honestly only making Sivir for "randomly Shurima month." Like who actually plays Sivir anymore.

GOALS

Better duck! - We need to be able to throw everything at incoming danger and cut it down to size.

Here's where I get my cut - When faced with a hoard it doesn't hurt to be able to shoot everyone at once!

Nice try - Of course getting hit yourself would suck, so we're going to need ways to avoid incoming damage.

RACE

You have ascendant blood in you, which gives you just a touch of godly power. To connect to the gods look to the Aasimar. As an Aasimar you’d normally increase your Charisma by 2 but we’re instead going to invoke Tasha’s for a +2 to Dexterity. But your other abilities don’t change such as your Darkvision which I only mention because Light Bearer gives you the Light cantrip to help your friends with their dumb human eyes. You also get Celestial Resistance for a Spell Shield and Healing Hands for some potions in a pinch.

Fallen Aasimar require high Charisma and Scourge Aasimar hurt themselves as they fight, so we’ll be going for Protector Aasimar. We’re still going to get a +1 to Intelligence instead of Wisdom with Tasha’s rules, and we’ll cover more of what your subrace does for you at level 3.

ABILITY SCORES

15; INTELLIGENCE - Intelligence is tied to Investigation which makes it the tomb raiding skill. (I’d probably put Dexterity higher to be honest but I dislike uneven Ability Scores.)

14; DEXTERITY - You’re an ADC and even if you’re throwing stuff (which we won’t be in this build) Dexterity is still tied to most ranged combat abilities.

13; CONSTITUTION - While you may be squishy on the Rift we simply don’t need any other abilities for this build.

12; WISDOM - Wisdom is tied to Perception which is also useful when trying to avoid traps.

10; CHARISMA - You’re rather rough around the edges. Maybe if you were more Charismatic your fellow tomb raiders wouldn’t have double-crossed you.

8; STRENGTH - Even though you’re throwing weapons (which again: we won’t be for this build) you are very nimble and Fleet of Foot. Put simply we don’t need Strength at all for this build.

BACKGROUND

There’s no “Tomb Raider” background so we’ll fall back on Sivir’s job as a Mercenary Veteran. You get proficiency in Athletics and Persuasion as well as Land Vehicles and a gaming set of your choice (pick your poison.)

When you live the Mercenary Life you can easily identify other mercenaries by their emblems and logos. (RIP Clubs.) You know bits and pieces about their work, and can go seek them out for hints on the next ancient tomb to break into. And if all else fails you can fall back on mercenary work to maintain a comfortable lifestyle.

(Artwork made for Riot Games.)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - ROGUE 1

Starting off as a Rogue because skills to raid tombs are always helpful. Skills like Acrobatics, Perception, Investigation, and... well we may as well grab Stealth as a Rogue. You also get Expertise in two skills: Investigation is the skill to find hidden loot, and Stealth is still pretty important as a Rogue.

When you live the mercenary life you know to speak in Thieves’ Cant so no wanabee treasure hunters try for your mark. Thieves’ Cant is a secret code with regular words that mean something else.

But let’s be real: what we’re really here for is Sneak Attack. When you have advantage on an attack (such as by attacking from stealth) or if your ADC is near the target you can do an additional d6 of damage.

LEVEL 2 - ROGUE 2

Second level Rogues are Fleet of Foot, and can use Cunning Action to Dash, Disengage, or Hide as a Bonus Action. Attack-Moving as an ADC is very important!

LEVEL 3 - ROGUE 3

Third level Rogues get to choose their Roguish Archetype, and you have the blood of a long-dead civilization in your veins. You revived your phantom of a great great great great (x20 more “great”s) grandfather, so Phantom Rogue will work well. Whispers of the Dead will let you choose a skill or tool to gain proficiency in after a Short or Long Rest, so you can adapt your tools to the situation at hand.

But more importantly you get Wails from the Grave. When you hit an enemy you can have your shot Ricochet to an enemy within 30 feet to deal necrotic damage equal to half the number of Sneak Attack dice for your level (round up.) You can use this feature a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus, and regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest.

Speaking of which your Sneak Attack die increases to 2d6. And speaking of more damage as a Protector Aasimar you get Radiant Soul. Once per long rest you can activate your Ascendant blood for 1 minute or until you end it as a bonus action. During this time you have a flying speed and deal extra Radiant damage equal to your level. Look just because we don’t see Sivir fly in-game doesn’t mean she can’t.

LEVEL 4 - ROGUE 4

4th level Rogues get an Ability Score Improvement: Dexterity controls most of what you do currently. Increase it by 2 for more damage, better skill checks, and better AC.

(Artwork made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 5 - FIGHTER 1

ADCs are meant to fight, and Fighters are good at that! You get a Fighting Style to boost your right clicks and a “Marksman” needs Archery, even if they’re technically throwing weapons. (By the way by this point I’d recommend using a Longbow, for multiple reasons other than “it’s better than a Shortbow / Light Crossbow.”)

You can also pop the Heal Summoner Spell for a Second Wind, healing yourself for a d10 plus your Fighter level as a Bonus Action.

LEVEL 6 - FIGHTER 2

Second level Fighters are On the Hunt (by themselves), and can Action Surge to take an additional action! For now this just means one more attack, but your damage output will really increase at higher levels!

LEVEL 7 - FIGHTER 3

Third level Fighters get to choose their Martial Archetype, and while it’s perhaps not the most accurate or the strongest Arcane Archer is the only way to get some of Sivir’s abilities. But firstly you get Arcane Archer Lore for the Arcana skill (or Nature but Arcana is better), as well as the Prestidigitation cantrip (or Druidcraft but Prestidigitation is better.)

But your main feature is of course the Arcane Shot. Once per turn you can use one of your Arcane Shot options. You decide to use it when the arrow hits a creature, unless the option doesn’t involve an attack roll. Piercing Arrow will serve as your “Boomerang” Blade, firing a projectile in a 30 foot line that deals damage to everyone it passes through. This ability will go through cover so you can shoot past walls too!

There aren’t really many other options that fit Sivir, but Bursting Arrow will make your shot “Ricochet” on enemies within 5 feet of your initial target. And will do more damage, obviously.

You have two Arcane Shots per Short or Long Rest, but I’d really recommend discussing the subclass with your DM. Arcane Archer is known for being weak but it becomes a lot stronger if you make the Arcane Shots scale with either Intelligence modifier or your Proficiency Bonus. I don’t normally recommend homebrew changes but Arcane Archer is honestly a fun subclass hampered by how limited your Arcane Shot options are. I really recommend discussing buffs to the class if you wish to play one. 

LEVEL 8 - FIGHTER 4

4th level Fighters get another Ability Score Improvement and while tricks are useful shooting good is still your main goal. Increase your Dexterity by 2 for the deadliest shots possible.

(Artwork by Horace "Hozure" Hsu and Alex "alexplank" Flores. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 9 - FIGHTER 5

5th level Fighters get their Beserker's Greaves, granting them enough attack speed for an Extra Attack to make two attacks in a turn! "Business is good."

LEVEL 10 - FIGHTER 6

Fighters get Ability Score Improvements instead of Class Features, but that's cool because it means we can get feats! Your Constitution has been sitting at 13 for awhile now, and while I'd normally try to grab a more fun feat Resilient will increase your Constitution by 1 and also make it easier to resist spells, which is like a spell shield!

LEVEL 11- FIGHTER 7

7th level Fighters get their Mythic! Kraken Slayer will give you Magic Arrows that do... exactly what they say on the tin! Magic damage for the sake of overcoming resistance or immunity to nonmagical damage.

Additionally if you miss you can use your Bonus Action to Ricochet your shot to another enemy. Curving Shot will let you redirect a missed hit towards a different enemy within 60 feet.

You also learn another Arcane Shot option: Enfeebling Arrow is like exhaust on an arrow. The target takes an additional 2d6 Necrotic damage and has to make a Constitution saving throw. If they fail the damage of their attacks is reduced by half until the start of your next turn.

LEVEL 12 - FIGHTER 8

More Feats are fun! While I could take Resilient in every stat or perhaps Mage Slayer I think Lucky works better to simulate Sivir's spell shield. If you make a roll on a d20 that you don't like you can roll a Lucky die to change it. You can use this not just on saving throws but also attack rolls, ability checks, and even enemy rolls! (Though of course the most flavorful thing would be to only use it on your own saving throws.) You do only have 3 of these per Long Rest, so be sure to use them wisely to block deadly spells.

(Artwork made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 13 - ROGUE 5

5th level Rogues can survive a bit of harass thanks to Uncanny Dodge, letting you reduce the damage from a weapon attack you saw coming by half with your reaction. "Nice try." Your Sneak Attack also increases to 3d6, meaning that your Wails from the Grave increase to 2d6.

LEVEL 14 - ROGUE 6

6th level Rogues get Expertise in two more skills: Perception will help you see danger coming, and Acrobatics will help you avoid that danger.

LEVEL 15 - ROGUE 7

7th level Rogues can dodge skillshot with Evasion. If you succeed on a Dexterity saving throw you take no damage. If you fail on the saving throw you only take half damage, instead of the full damage! "Step light, strike hard." Your Sneak Attack also increases to 4d6.

LEVEL 16 - ROGUE 8

Another Ability Score Improvement is in order, and this will actually be your last one! More Intelligence will boost your Arcane Shots, but the Sharpshooter feat will boost your regular shots. It’s up to you what you do really; adapt your build for more Ability Power or more Attack Damage.

LEVEL 17 - ROGUE 9

9th level Phantom Rogues can loot the dead. When a creature you see dies within 30 feet you can use your reaction to grab a Tokens of the Departed. You can have a maximum number of soul trinkets equal to your proficiency bonus, and can’t create one while at your maximum. You can use soul trinkets in the following ways:

While you have at least one soul trinket you have advantage on death saving throws and Constitution saving throws.

When you deal Sneak Attack damage you can destroy one of your soul trinkets to use Wails from the Grave without expending a use of that feature.

As an action, you can destroy one of your soul trinkets to ask the spirit associated with the trinket one question. The spirit appears to you and answers in a language it knew in life. It doesn’t have to be truthful, and it answers as concisely as possible, eager to be free. The spirit knows only what it knew in life, as determined by the DM.

And to top it off your Sneak Attack increases to 5d6, which also means your Wails from the Grave increases to 3d6! “Life’s cheap. Death pays.”

(Artwork by Jean “Curing” Go. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 18 - FIGHTER 9

9th level Rogues get another Spell Shield with Indomitable. Once per Long Rest when you fail a saving throw, you can reroll it! It’s really that simple.

LEVEL 19 - FIGHTER 10

10th level Arcane Archers get another Arcane Shot Option. What? Did you want actual class features? Too bad! Regardless take whatever option you think will be useful honestly, because we got everything we wanted from the earlier levels.

LEVEL 20 - FIGHTER 11

Now that you’re finally six-slotted you can attack three times with your Extra Attack, or 6 times with Action Surge!

FINAL BUILD

PROS

I've got values; they stack up nicely - Three attacks per turn is good in its own right, but you’ve also got Arcane Shots, a Sneak Attack that can affect two targets, and Radiant Soul to add a flat +20 to your damage every turn.

I'll fight for a cause; I won't die for one - Having around 150 HP is nothing to sneeze at, but what’s really impressive is your saving throws. Proficiency in DEX, CON, and INT saves means you won’t be failing those saves anytime soon, especially since your Soul Trinkets give you advantage on CON saves!

You've got a problem, I've got a price - You’ve got plenty of utility with Expertise in the two “searching” skills, the ability to interrogate people after death, and of course good ol’ Lucky if things go south.

CONS

Make me work for it - You need a lot of actions and reactions to operate at maximum effectiveness. Soul Trinkets are tied to spending reactions and you need your Bonus Action for Curving Shot as well as your Cunning Actions.

Don't get between me, and my gold - You’re honestly not that skillful for a Rogue, with a lot of dud skills (let’s be honest you really don’t need Athletics) instead of potentially more useful things like Insight or Survival. Sure +13 to Perception is nice but that and Investigation are probably the only two skills you’re notably good at, as your took Expertise in general Rogue abilities instead of team utility.

They say the desert is a cruel mistress - Half your saving throws are very good. The other half...? +1 Wisdom saves are quite mediocre for a common save, and -1 to Strength saves certainly has the chance to hurt. Even if you can reroll them it’s still going to be hard to make those saves.

But you’re reliable which is all that can be asked for a mercenary. Your jobs are to fight and to nab treasure, both of which you’re damn good at. Go ahead and pull this build out if the party needs a reliable marksman, and if you roleplay them well they may not even realize you’re playing a character from League of Legends. Pull a little Sneaky on them.

(Artwork by Alex “alexplank” Flores. Made for Riot Games.)

[caranfindel]

Recap/review 14.01: Stranger in a Strange Land

The Road So Far: Well, this montage pales in comparison to the one at the beginning of 13.23. Conspicuously absent: Sam being killed by vampires and resurrected by Lucifer. Also, it's set to an AC/DC song, and I dislike AC/DC, so let's just skip this, shall we?

(But Caranfindel! We thought you LOVED all that crappy old 80s music!)

You kids behave or I'll turn this car around.

Anyway. We open with Sam, driving the Impala alone through the night. He feels the same way I do about AC/DC, and turns off the radio (Sidebar: Have I mentioned before that I love when the soundtrack becomes part of the actual scene? Because I do.) Let's just take a good look at Sam here, looking magnificently angry and beardy. Because of course he's been too busy/depressed/other reasons to shave. And honestly, I'm not normally into beards. I love some heavy scruff, but a heavy beard doesn't generally do things for me. But this is just, rawr. I don't want him to keep it. Mama needs to see those dimples. But for right now? Let's enjoy it.

Mmmmm yes.

We cut to a (presumably) Muslim man being awakened by a call to prayers. He puts out his rug, begins to pray, and is suddenly shocked to see The Flying Squirrel sitting in his living room. Still wearing the hat, unfortunately. Michael informs Jamil that he's read about him, and quotes what is presumably the Koran (and Jensen speaking what is presumably Arabic isn't quite as hot as Jared speaking French, but is still very, very enjoyable). I wasn't aware that Gabriel and Michael were mentioned in the Koran. (Is this not actually the Koran? I'm going to feel like an idiot if it's not.)

Yes, you are the better one, but only because of your pretty, pretty vessel.

Michael is there to ask Jamil the question he's been asking a variety of people ("holy men, leaders, killers") for weeks. "What do you want?" (Sidebar: speaking of holy men, I still wonder where Michael and Lucifer found all the ingredients for the spell to open the rift in AU Land. How did Lucifer recognize that the blood came from a Most Holy Man and wasn't just average blood?)

Jamil says he wants peace and love, and Michael snidely points out that if he'd really wanted peace, he wouldn't have left Syria and abandoned his friends to die, and that's cold, man. That's really cold. He also tells him that if he cared about love, he wouldn't have gone into that broom closet with Darlene and his wife wouldn't have left him, and I'm with you on that one, Michael. Avoid going into broom closets with chicks named Darlene. Michael then throws Jamil about the room and tells him he's lost, and not worth saving. And for his part, Michael wants what he's always wanted: a better world. Oooh, like ours, maybe? Duh duh duuuuuhhhh!

New title card! I don't really like it. The blue flames are cool but the wings are too cartoony.

Bunker. The place is bustling with activity. A poor Sam substitute with long hair and a plaid shirt is laying out different types of bullets for Mary. Maggie is tending to someone who was injured by a rawhead. Someone shows up with food. Sam comes downstairs, apparently having just returned from Atlanta, and gets a hug. Aw. I guess the silver lining to Dean being gone is that Sam gets to be Number One Son for once.

His lead in Atlanta didn't pan out, but Mary reminds him that Ketch is working on a lead in London (and just like at the end of s13, there is no evdience at all that Mary remembers or cares what Ketch did to her in s12, so... okay then) and Cas is doing something in Detroit (Sidebar: How does Sam feel about Detroit? Can he hear Castiel's in Detroit without hearing Lucifer tell him I think it's gonna happen in Detroit?) and then she thoughtfully expositions for us that it's been three weeks since Dean... and she trails off without saying whatever she was going to say. I know it's awkward to say since he agreed to be an archangel vessel in an attempt to save your life but you could just say since Dean's been gone.

She assures Sam that "something will break; it has to" (and I'm thinking yes, and it will be Sam) and he says "yeah, you keep saying that." Oh, Sam. You used to be the one assuring Dean that you'd be able to fix/find/kill/save whatever, and now you're on the other side of that conversation.

He yawns, and she tries to get him to get some rest. Poor Sam never had a mother and now he's being mothered within an inch of his life. Then Not!Sam calls him Chief \o/ and gives him some soup and some bad news about vampires on I-90. Sam gives some instructions, because he's Leader Sam now, and then he asks Maggie if she can hack into the traffic cams and she says "Um. No."

I don't know if this is just supposed to be amusing, or if it's a sign that Sam is cracking under the pressure and has forgotten that this is Maggie, not Charlie. Or if it's just a demonstration of how useless Maggie is, although she's performing first aid so it's not like all she can do is sneak out to meet the cute guy at the Gas N Sip.

Sam hands his food off to Mary, because you can't hack and eat at the same time, everyone knows that, and sits down at the laptop, pointedly ignoring some mothering from Mary. "I'm good, I am," he says.

YES YOU ARE, MY PRECIOUS LITTLE LUMBERJACK, YOU ARE SO, SO GOOD.

He asks Mary about Jack, which is our segue to Jack sparring with AU Bobby. Jack's learning how much life sucks with no angelic powers. While Sam has ignored his grooming routine, Jack has changed his hair. It's shorter, without so much swoop in the front. It's okay.

Cut to a barbeque joint in what must be Detroit. We see a pair of shoes and too-long pants walking in, and then a guy wearing a pair of Agent Smith sunglasses says "Castiel, darling" and greets Cas, who is sitting at a conspicuous table right in the middle of the dining room. The fireplace behind him looks very much like the one we saw in President Lucifer's hotel room. Coincidence? (Spoiler alert: No, I don't think it's a coincidence that there’s a Fireplace from Hell in this restaurant.)

Cas is surprised Agent Smith chose this place to meet, and Agent Smith is surprised that Cas wanted to meet at all, considering that he's (dramatically removes the sunglasses) a demon. (gasp!) Cas asks if any demons know where Dean is, and Agent Smith says he's surprised that Cas lost him, considering that they're "joined at the... you know, everything." Oh, wait. Is Andrew Dabb a Destiel shipper? Because it's getting awfully shippy in here. I feel like I should complain about him pandering to the baser desires of a certain contingency of fans, but on the other hand, he's give me Bearded Angsty Sam, so let's just agree not to discuss our various base desires, shall we?

Carrying on. Agent Smith asks the eternal question, not "what do you want" but "what's in it for me," and Cas threatens to kill him if he doesn't spill. Oddly enough, even though Cas could tell if someone was evil or if they were lying in s13, he didn't realize that everyone else in this restaurant is a demon. Your powers are oddly specific, Cas. There's a fight, in which angels and demons use fists, because that's just what you do now, and Cas is predictably beaten to a pulp. (Also of note: one of the beer signs in the restaurant is for Fast Jack's Ale.)

Cut to a church. Sister Jo? We're back to that, then? Okay. Anael walks out, counting a wad of money, and meets Michael in a dark alley. He calls her Jo because... because that's how he was introduced to her? No. Because that's her angel name? No. There is no reason for any angel to call her Jo. What the fuck ever. She recognizes that he's not Dean, and then I don't know if he reveals his wings, or if she just sees him in Angel!Vision (Angel Radio is so old fashioned), but we get a special effect and she realizes who he is.

Do I like this or is it cheesy? 🤔

She even knows he’s not from our world. But I guess the AU angels recognized that Lucifer wasn’t from their world. Just not so quickly.

Oh God.

People keep calling me that.

Hee! (Although I don't think angels would use "God" like that but whatever.) She asks why Dean would have let Michael possess him, and Michael answers "love," and YES. I am here for Michael recognizing that Dean loves Sam (and maybe Jack but we know this was about Sam) and would have only done this to save him. Michael asks her his question, what do you want, and she spouts some designer labels. (Sidebar: What is the deal with her, anyway? Why does she need money?) He doesn't believe she's telling the truth, and I hope he’s right, because Show has given me no reason to think an angel would be interested in material things, even if they're covered with big tacky double-C logos.

Michael says he knows all about her, because "the other angel" knew all about her. Lucifer? Is he talking about Lucifer? (And one of the things Lucifer knew was that her name was not Jo, but whatever!) He knows that what she really wants is love, a home, a family. "It's very, very human of you." Hmmm. Interesting that Anael kind of liked that "almost human" feeling she got when Lucifer was sucking down her grace. Michael knows there are very few angels left, and thought he might be able to help, but if they're all as lost and fallen as she is, maybe they're not worth saving. Careful, Anael. The last person who heard this speech was Jamil, and it did not end well for him.

Bunker. Jack is sitting on his bed when Sam comes in. He's heard from Bobby that Jack had a terrible no good awful day (although I thought Jack was actually okay at the end of his scene with Bobby?), and he's so kind and encouraging about how hard it must be for him to be without his powers. "I have faith in you, Jack," he says. "And I believe in you." Which is basically the same thing but daaaaaawwwww! Mary interrupts to say "Sam, um, he's awake." Sam sighs and looks distressed and I know what you were all thinking. Who is awake and why does this distress Sam so much? He tells Jack "We'll talk later, all right?" but Jack stays in Quiet Angst mode and doesn't respond as Sam sadly creeps out of his room.

In the hall, Sam and Mary are talking about him.

Did he say anything?

I didn't talk to him. I can barely look at him.

Sam is clearly fucked the hell UP over him, and Mary peels off as Sam hesitantly opens the door. The room is dark, and a figure in a white shirt is sitting on the bed. Sam sighs nervously again and turns on the light and walks into the room. The man on the bed is facing away from us, but we can see his bed is in the middle of a devil's trap. Sam comes closer, radiating fear the way he did when he was locked in the jail cell with Jack in 13.01, and the figure turns around.

Hey, Sam.

Hey. Nick.

OH GOD, GUYS, NICK IS ALIVE.

We get a flashback of Lucifer convincing Nick to be his vessel, but we don't get Lucifer promising revenge against the people who murdered his wife and baby. I think anyone who hasn't been watching long would have benefited from knowing why Nick said yes. But maybe we'll get back to that later.

Sam and Nick discuss his nightmares, and I can't help wondering how much he remembers, if he knows what his body did to Sam, if he knows how many of Sam's nightmares feature his face. Sam cleans his angel blade wound, and they speculate on why the archangel blade didn't kill him. I assume they're setting us up to accept that the archangel blade will kill Michael and not Dean. Oh, those crazy archangel blades and their bizarre rules.

(Sidebar: Why is Sam the one taking care of Nick? Because no one else will do it? Because Sam won't make anyone else do it? Discuss.)

(I'm not crying, you're crying.)

Nick is a little whiny and "poor me, I almost ended the world." Okay, that's not fair, I can see why he'd be upset. But do not whine to Sam Winchester about it. Sam is so tentative and kind. When Nick says it must be weird to look at him, Sam surprises me by saying "yeah," instead of brushing off his own trauma. He asks Nick if he remembers anything, and Nick says it's still "bits and pieces" and nothing about Dean. He does remember Michael saying he "wanted to do it right this time." Duh duh duuuuhhhhhh!

We see Sam in the hall, shutting the door with a long shaky sigh and rubbing at his face, and STOP IT I CANNOT DEAL WITH THIS I AM ONLY HUMAN.

This is the sound of my heart breaking.

I have so many feelings about this scene. First, so much love for Jared, because he shows Sam's terror of this guy SO WELL. And, like 13.01, that conflict between his fear and his need to be nice to this person, to care for him.

And I have conflicted feelings about Nick being alive and well. First, it's bizarre, because (1) why would the archangel blade not kill the vessel along with the angel, because that was definitely human blood, and (b) why is he sane? Why would Lucifer have taken better care of his vessel than Raphael did? (And does it mean Gabriel's vessel is alive over in AU Land?)

And does it mean Lucifer is coming back? Because I DO NOT WANT. Although I have one tiny speck of hopeful joy, because if this isn't really Nick, if this is, in fact, Lucifer? Or if Lucifer's grace will grow inside him (because we know a bit of grace remains inside the vessel) and he becomes Lucifer? That means Sam could still kill him. (Oh, please, baby Jesus.)

But I also have a lot of anger. Because this should have been a shocking reveal, and it wasn't, because the SHOW ITSELF SPOILED IT. I don't know if this happened to everybody, but in my time zone, we had a commercial for the movie "Halloween" that was apparently a tie-in with the show, and it showed Sam asking Nick if he remembered Michael. AND THEY SHOWED IT BEFORE THE REVEAL. WHAT THE FUCK, SHOW??? I assume it was a mistake, and judging from my Tumblr feed, it didn't happen in every time zone. So to those of you who actually got to be surprised, congratulations. I'm sure it was awesome.

Carrying on.

Sam's phone rings. It's Cas's phone, but it's not Cas talking. It's Agent Smith. The next shot is Sam loading up his weapons bag, confidently agreeing with Mary that yes, it is a trap, but of course he's going anyway. He's bringing Mary and Bobby, which makes sense, and Maggie, which doesn't. I guess all the good hunters are off looking for vampires on I-90. Jack wants to come too, which Bobby finds ridiculous, but Sam explains that Jack needs this. OH SAM.

Back at the restaurant, Agent Smith gets a coffee refill and asks Cas if he's sure he doesn't want anything hot and black. Which reminds me... what happened to Michael's previous vessel? Shouldn't he be around somewhere? Agent Smith says he's trying to be a good host, "like mother would have wanted," which makes me think we're going to find out something interesting about his mother and/or a female boss, perhaps an awesome Queen of Hell. (Spoiler alert: false alarm.)

He expositions that he needs something from Sam, because someone recently asked him what he wanted (Michael! It was Michael!) and he didn't know. So he thought about it, and he realized he wants everything. Hmmm. Would Michael have accepted that as an answer? Apparently so, because Agent Smith still walks the earth.

Impala. Sam's driving, with Mary riding shotgun, and I guess everyone else is in Bobby's truck. Mary tells Sam again that everything is going to be fine, and he shocks me by saying "Stop saying that, please." He's tired of her relentless everything will be okay and says "Dean's gone, and we have no idea where he is, or if he's even still alive, you know? Michael could have burned him out, or worse..."

Mary says she knows that, but she has to think about the good, "because if I don't, I will drown in the bad," which reminds me of Sam once saying there was so much evil that he thought he could drown in it. And I like this scene a lot. I like Sam breaking, telling Mary what he thinks instead of burying his feelings. I like the fact that Sam knows so much better than Mary ever could what can happen when you're in an archangels hands. I like that Sam knows how Raphael's vessel ended up, alive but gone. I like that Sam's voice gets shaky when he talks about what could be happening to Dean. I like this all, very much.

In the other car, Bobby tells Jack that they've got his back. Jack looks sadly out the window. I don't know why. I don't understand what's going on here. Is he concerned that he's so useless, someone has to have his back? Is he having second thoughts about coming along? Is he regretting his haircut? I just don't know.

The gang arrives at the restaurant and Sam gives Mary the demon-killing knife. "They'll search me," he says, because he's so damn smart. Then he tells the others "you know what to do," which suggests some kind of plan, and heads for the restaurant. Once inside, he is patted down as predicted, and Agent Smith fangirls all over him. "You are a damn legend, Sam. An icon! The shoulders, the hair! You are my Beyonce!" Same, Agent Smith. Same.

Sam ignores him to ask Cas if he's okay. Cas says he's more embarrassed than hurt, and, well, he should be, because this is pretty embarrassing. Agent Smith introduces himself as Kipling, Kip for short, but I'm sorry, it's too late for that. He's stuck with Agent Smith as far as I'm concerned. Sam refuses to shake his hand. Don't feel bad, Agent Smith, he refused to shake Mick Davies' hand too.

Smith points out that Sam didn't come alone, as he was supposed to, and his minions drag Jack and Maggie into the room. "Found them outside," a minion says; "they didn't even put up a fight." I assume this is part of the plan, that Jack and Maggie are a diversion or something. Agent Smith says he needs more from Sam now. He wants to make a deal.

Turns out Hell is in "a bit of a pickle." Crowley is dead and Asmodeus is "Kentucky-fried" (see, it's funny, because he looked like Colonel Sanders) and Sam interrupts him to say "I don't care" but Agent Smith thinks he does. Or he will. He wants to be the new King, and he wants Sam to work with him. "You see, I want the Crowley deal. I give you information, a spot of help every now and again, and in turn, you choose to turn a blind eye to the crossroads deals, the demon-on-demon violence, etc." Well, good for you, Crowley. Your mother thought the Winchesters were your weak spot, but Agent Smith here realizes it was a mutually beneficial relationship. Sam tells him they didn't actually have that deal with Crowley, and also that he's no Crowley, and aw. I miss the little limey bastard.

Agent Smith doesn't appreciate this, and growls that in his day he rode with Genghis Khan. He pokes Sam's chest and says "If I had my way I would eat your heart," and I feel you, Agent Smith. If I had my way, I'd also be removing that unfortunate orange jacket and that shirt and nibbling at whatever I found underneath. It's a sad day for both of us.

Agent Smith tells Sam that he's not afraid of him, but his minions are, and he should take the deal before he "stops trying to be Crowley," which I guess means stops not killing Sam's friends. So, is Agent Smith going to be the new Big Bad? The new King of Hell? I mean, he's not the most boring demon we've ever seen, but he's not really grabbing me, either. On the other hand, a King who's more of a Sam fan than a Dean fan could be fun. (Though, let us never forget that no matter how much Crowley craved a bromance with Dean, he was still Not Moose in Crowley's phone.)

Sam acts like he's considering the offer and then calmly says "no," and then Mary and Bobby burst in and there's a weirdly long, weirdly slow-motion fight. Really, it goes on way too long. There's no reason for an extended slow-motion fight when there's no suspense about who's going to come out of it alive. The only person who might conceivably die here is Maggie, and even she survives. Jack defends a fallen Bobby, Mary tells Maggie how to use a knife (seriously?), Sam gets some nice hair-in-the-face action, but really, we could have skipped 90% of this melee. And I'm still confused about why sometimes demons can pin people against walls, and sometimes they can't. Or just choose not to.

Eventually Sam kills Agent Smith and then shouts enough! and oh, you know I like that, don't you. Everyone stops fighting, because Sam Fucking Winchester said so. "There will be no new King of Hell," he announces. "Not today, not ever. Anybody wants the job, he can come through me. Understood? So, what's it gonna be?" Apparently it is understood, because the demons immediately smoke out. The humans (and Cas) look at Sam, shocked, and he pants (hubba hubba) and says "that's what I thought."

Well. What do we think about this? I mean, on the one hand, it's awesome. It's Sam Fucking Winchester taking charge. On the other hand, the only possible way it makes sense is if the demons have a reason to fear him. And that would have to be because they see him as Boy!King Sam, not as Sam Winchester the hunter, right? There's no reason for them to fear him that much as a human hunter. But there's no way he's getting his powers back, so why is Show teasing us like this?

Carrying on. Sam is back in the bunker, wearing a dark shirt with rolled up sleeves showing his big veiny arms (YAAASSSSS), holding a beer bottle against his head. He's on the phone, telling someone to keep looking. Cas comes in and Sam tells him the call was from Ketch, who's in London looking for the pulse generator they used to remove Lucifer from President Rooney. Hmmm, I'd forgotten about that thing. So, is Ketch searching in the BMoL headquarters? Is he welcome there? Or are they dead/disbanded because of what happened over here? So many questions. No answers.

Mmmmmm... ❤️

Cas asks if he's okay, and since he's on an honesty streak, Sam admits he's been better. But also that he's been worse. Oh, Sam. Cas apologizes for going to the demons, and Sam says he'd have done it himself if he'd thought of it. "If it meant finding Dean, I'd work with... I'd do anything."

Have you considered watching The Weather Channel? They’ve been tracking Michael for days.

In the kitchen, Mary and Bobby drink beer and make cute googly eyes at each other. He calls her "Sunshine." They're precious.

In his room, Jack stares angrily in the mirror and tells Cas he's fine, which is obviously a lie.

All I did was get punched in the face.

To be fair, we all got punched in the face.

Hee! But Jack misses his powers, and the ability to actually do something. Cas tells him his grace should regenerate with time, which answers THAT big question. Jack complains about being useless without his grace, and this is a good opportunity for Cas to point out that no one else in the bunker has magic nephilim powers and yet they're not useless, even Maggie, so why does he think he can't do anything? But he doesn't. He just tells him he has a family, which isn't really what Jack's complaint is right now. Jack still looks unhappy, so I guess this is setting us up for some future conflict. Yay.

Sam goes into his room, empties his pockets (he still has the money clip from Tall Tales!!!), and gets a phone call from an unknown number. It's Jo. "We have a problem,” she says. I don’t know about you, but I think she’s working for Michael!

And finally, in a dank damp basement somewhere, Michael has finally found someone who answered his question correctly and knows exactly what they want. "You don't pretend to want to help people, or save the world. Your want is pure, and simple, and clean. And that's why you are worth saving. That's why we are going to work so well together. Because you? You just want to eat." Oh, because you're a vampire. Well. That's not good.

So! I know the first ep of the season needs to set up the story arcs, so it's not necessarily going to be great. It has a lot of work to do. And I think this one did okay with that. We've got some interesting irons in the fire - Angry Chief Sam and his Beard of Despair, who has (probably temporarily) stopped telling people what they want to hear, and is telling his truth instead. The Nick situation. Whatever conflict is going to brew with Jack while his grace regenerates. Michael's hunt for the perfect thoughtless killing machine. Sam as default King of Hell. There are things brewing that I don't like. Jack turning his self-loathing against Sam or Cas. The potential return of Lucifer. There are things that make no sense. An angel who wants designer bags. Michael's hat. Hopefully they will all go away. And there were things I adored, which is basically ALL THINGS SAM. Chief Sam, patient-but-angry Sam, lord-of-all-demons Sam, terrified-but-caring Sam, hair-in-his-face Sam, BEARDY SAM, ALL THE SAM, ALL THE TIME.

But I miss Dean. What do you think about Jensen as Michael? I think he's doing a pretty good job. I don't think he plays Not!Dean as well as Jared plays Not!Sam, but I do think he's doing well. It makes me wish we'd had more of Demon!Dean.

Please help me stay unspoiled, thanks!

[serak-sarak-meta-sarahk]

Then I spend money PJ Hillel

Obvi they're not fucking broke and have a sarak case

When I have a attitude I forget where to get PJ Hillel a notification or like who has a case when I spend money

They have a sarak notification for I sarak spends money on their businesses

Then they just PJ hillel around a corner for a few weeks and then raise me like that

Or they can check their camz

Then if you want to be annoying you can consistant a PJ Hillel business with day purchases

They would come down for my camp weeks like diving camp possibly

So then fuck them for abducting

We've got like road sarak duct tape ads

Like the brand would hear I was missing then come bring one product out

And just like grab an image for the team car trip back

Whenever sarak would run with scotch ads

Scotch had just found Sarak near abductors

So they'd cowboy up the meth heads and lure em away then Rick woul get me with tone recognition

Then he would hug me and say I was his kid for the branding or throw me a tape roll alone

That's why it was scotch..Scotch... many types of businesses us office supplies so with the amount of abductions it would get annoying

Then i went Lowes as fuck and shoerd Gigi on their commercials in Limited Too for their corporate and then they'd cut the news cast of me casting Gigi to their exec team

If you're trying to fan mob her off in limited too

Then were gonna go to not fan mob America, cut price film construction commercials where only their exec to marketing team sees Gigi limited too

Then they cut the last minute and a half of me saying don't fan mob gigi help her to the lowest exec team

Then the lowest exec team is like "well before we cut this commercial we gotta call the fbi for that gigi girl" if you dub all your ads self cut then they can't cut you. At the end of your script then you just say your script and get passed a Gigi Limited too print and talk about how the girl in it and her friends get flash mobbed

So then when where pitching the ad run... the businesses fucking flip out

They'll go from the ad pitch to their sales floor and switch their whole sales floor to FBI calls for Gigi and her friends at the ad pitch

It doesn't matter if she's just a store model if you Google search a limited too logo over it and she's in Limited too

Then you just dont stop your script and funnel gigi Limited too pics and then you stop with the pics and say "and she gets flash mobbed"

Then you go pitch the ad back to back to filming or we got up to to live pitching live scripts

The script would be like "yay cocoa butter" for the script Then gigi pics while I cry that she's getting flash mobbed

Then cocoa butter shuts their factory down with whatever chain we made that day and they'll direct their opps to business calling on flash mobbing of them

It's so fucked it's like this but that's how sarak hid after the fucking crazy shit

That shit does not fly

Then you go around making ads

It not a civil anything

I just play a non fame until I started getting famed locally hiding as my non fame and then I move in the past when I hit white accent Sarah k local fame from sports or whatever

But it was just so the deals connect so they all get anti trafficking funnels up

It's that easy to not need trafficking to set your friends with non sex achieved deals

That's how much the lingo doesn't even add up and what yall say is civilian life when you get upset at their deals.

I get it you think we're all annoying

I got offered college after beat abductions from funneling them deals off a base ability to read words then say they were getting flash mobbed for Disney fame?? Idk that's a lot to do for a college degree offering...

UT was so proud of us they let Kylie start her masters or if she wanted some school. Just calling her and reaching out at my non commission inflation

That's how not taken over student loans are they announced at UT Black and Armenian and Latina Graduations

I got therapy for all those.

All thos events block therapy

Except for UT staff going to all grads for those three populations and saying that. "That's how not overthrown student loans are, we can offer Kylie jenner some school today at your Black Grad. We UT can do that. That's how not overthrown student loans are on your grad day."

That's why if they were gonna be like that, UT had to be like that with racial segregation grads back to be like "the thing we are most proud of about you Black UT, is that student loans are not over thrown at Black Grad UT Ceremony."

So white the gov if they tried class of 2017.

Now UT is just mass cutting our ad deals as student loans from our cut checks

It's so flipping cool.

I'm having like little world fan out episodes

I'll fan about like how caniving in joke ways for your besties we've all gotten as a world.

We just can't be rude to each other. But when Kylie says something rude at Sarak it's nornally funny as fuck. Idk not rude to me. It's like funny business push alongs, that's what she comedy does.

Because we couldn't be in comedy clubs as kids.

But she was a comedian so she'd instead go to sky scrapers and make them laugh at how their business was lacking from a comedy perspective, for Netflix creative psychology boost 2019 starting with LIVE CREATIVE PSYCH RECORDINGS IN 2016. It's really funny that yall just spent 20 years shit talking em.

Right because if you're gonna threat to rape kids at all. They're just gonna pre Instagram go comedy business pitch at not rape companies.

Don't you all have dads????

Thats how ours got together and business path by foot started Instagrams take off with us.

That's also why none of us say that.

Then I was not allowed to self use the internet or create profiles until 6th grade I was allowed alone internet

Then I didn't want to get raped so I got hired as Sarah K as a MySpace coding contractor for small businesses in China. You just custom layout coding bones to interests and seamless look and whatever color palettes. Then you just MySpace message then updated code and tell them how you did it in your acvent for them to record how its done. But I had already got my 8 work visa then renewed at 10 for surveys then I didn't have to ask the government they would just come in if I was under 15 working on MySpace layouts or surveys to send inflation up with my other deals as Sarah K white accent.

Then I quit doing them until I cant stand Faye again and don't tell people at school what Sarah K white accent does at home.

If that wasn't a government sighted to planned set up for abuse on your kids only makes them go harder at building the economy now before taking from it for all the Fayes... really

Idk what is. If the kids with Faye moms didn't get out during the Kendall Kylie uprise.

Then as adults they can release the Sarak Economy

Then they just release Saraks money flow now... and Sarah K still works.

Then because we did it like that WITH THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT LEADING IT CHOOSING OUR FACES BY MANDATE our economy just fame inverts those moms out...

So then those kids don't have to grow as adults now raising the person who should've raised them.

Cause those moms attach to their kids having a degree, EVEN IF THEY HAVE A JOB AS the mom.

Cause like my bio mom and dad call my degree my fun money when I ask to send like lineal bio money.