#and they could have two solid hours of doc martin.

[david-watts]

right ok what was the abc thinking when they made that scheduling. good GRIEF

[dumdumsun]

Break and Mend

A/N: Enjoy!

Warnings: PTSD, corpses, blood, mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 4025

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Chapter Three: Trick or Treat, Freak

“Were you two friends? Was she nice to you or anything?”

The two police officers got nothing but a glare from Doc in response. It had been a solid ten minutes since they stepped into the girl’s hospital room, introducing themselves and politely asking if they could ask her a few questions. Doc had been hesitant to answer, looking to Karen with pleading eyes, but her mother only nodded at her.

The only thing the two had been able to get out of her was her legal first and last name. Every other question was met with a silent death glare. As if she were testing them, daring them to ask her the specific questions they oh-so wanted to.

“(Y/N), it would be very helpful to us if you would answer our questions as best you can,” A female officer gently spoke. The woman appeared to be the same ethnicity as Doc, no doubt an attempt to get the girl comfortable enough to answer. But she was no fool. “Now, do you know-”

“I don’t know where she is,” Doc snapped, slowly leaning forward. “You can ask me until you run out of air to breathe and I will keep saying it. I. Don’t. Know. Where. She. Is.”

“What that-”

“And even if I did, I wouldn’t ever tell you.”

The woman took a deep breath. “What that girl told you, whatever stories she told you, were lies. She is not your friend and she is to not be trusted. She is a very dangerous individual, and it would be safer for you and the people you know if we knew where to find her.”

When Doc continued to stare in silence, the male officer stepped forward with a patient look. “Please, (Y/N). We only want to help you. That girl could have easily put you in danger already. If we allow her to get back to whoever sent her, there is no telling what could happen. Was there absolutely any clue she gave you as to where she might have gone?”

“You’re better off asking me what the capital of Kentucky is.”

The officers stared at her in exasperation. “We-”

“It’s Frankfort.”

The man sighed out. “What exactly did she ever speak to you about?”

“Nothing.”

“You talked about nothing?”

“We talked about nothing.”

He tilted his head. “So, you two never got to know each other? You never found out anything you had in common? Didn’t bond over shared interests? Shared talents? She truly wasn’t your friend?”

The memories made within that week of Doc finding El, learning just how alike they were, giving her a makeover, searching the woods for her, going into the Void with her, they all sent tears to the edges of her eyes. Losing El was hard enough, but having to lie about her was worse. What was the worst for Doc was the thought that these people could snatch her away from her mother right here and right now. She had already been revealed to Dr Martin Brenner hours ago.

But she also knew that legally, these people couldn’t do anything to her. Legally, she was safer than Eleven was. She was legally someone’s child and they couldn’t touch her, not if Karen had anything to say about it. And she most certainly would. Doc knew that these police officers knew this.

Which was why she was acting so damn bold.

“Why do you keep asking me the same questions like I’m an idiot? I heard you the first six times. Why do you keep harassing me? I am in the hospital.”

Karen gently placed a hand on her daughter’s knee. “I think that’s enough questioning. She’s clearly upset,” She pointedly stared at the officers. “It’s been a very rough night for her and she needs her rest.”

The two slowly straightened their posture with nods and fake smiles. “Of course,” The woman spoke. “We’re truly sorry if we upset you. Mrs Wheeler, you let us know if (Y/N) has any information to give.”

When Karen nodded in response, the officers gave Doc a hardened look before retreating from the room. Doc’s chest fell with the deep exhale she let out, the girl reaching her fist up to wipe the tears that fell when she blinked. “Honey?” Karen quietly called. “Are you alright?”

Doc nodded, feeling her mother gently squeeze her knee. “Yeah… I just… I hate police officers.”

“I know, sweetie, and I’m sorry. You won’t have to deal with that again. I promise.”

-------------------------------------------------

Hopper had never really made breakfast for himself since he had been left alone. His morning routine consisted of showers, cigarettes and beer cans. But ever since taking Eleven into his home, he had no choice but to start living a semi-healthy lifestyle.

The only sound within his small kitchen was the hissing of the pan where two pieces of french toast were being cooked. The sweet aroma of the breakfast food sent him to a better place. Of wholesome mornings and laughs and… Feeling a presence behind him, Hopper looked over his shoulder.

“Oh, Jesus!” He flinched at the sight of El standing silently behind him, a sheet with eye holes cut out of it draped over her as a ghost costume. She must have been standing there for a long time, just waiting for him to turn around.

“Ghost.”

“Yeah, I see that.” He moved past her to get to their plates that were already filled with eggs and bacon.

“Halloween.”

“Sure is,” He transferred the french toast to their plates. “But right now, it’s breakfast, okay? Come on, let’s eat.”

El watched as he picked up their food and walked with it to the table. “They wouldn’t see me.”

“Who wouldn’t see you?”

“The bad men.”

“What are you talking about?”

Hopper placed the plates in their respective places before he sat down in front of his, El following and standing before him. “Trick or treat.”

Hopper paused. “You wanna go trick-or-treating?” When El nodded, he stood and gently moved her. “You know the rules.”

“Yes, but-”

“Yeah, so you know the answer.”

“No, but-”

“No.”

“They wouldn’t see me.”

“Hey. I don’t care,”

“But they wouldn’t see me.”

“I don’t care,” He bent down so he was eye-hole level with her. “You go out there, ghost or not, it’s a risk. We don’t take risks, alright? They’re stupid, and…”

“We’re not stupid.” El hissed, leaning forward. At her tone, Hopper leaned back, staring in shock that she had snapped at him.

“Exactly. Now you take that off, sit down and eat. Your food’s getting cold.”

As he moved back to his chair, El swiped the sheet off her head with a frown before sitting across from him. Hopper gently shook his head as he poured syrup onto their french toast. His mind swam with questions as to why she put up such a fight, but he had to remember that she was a kid. Whether or not she knew the dangers of the outside world, she still wanted to indulge in the joys of having what was left of her childhood. He’d heard as much from Doc. He couldn’t keep either of them locked up for long.

Coming up with an idea, he let out a sigh. “Alright, look… How about I get off early tonight, and I buy us a bunch of candy, and we can sit around and get fat, and we watch a scary movie together? How’s that for a compromise?”

“Com- Compromise?”

“C-O-M-promise. Compromise. How about that’s your word for the day? Yeah? It’s something that’s kinda in-between. It’s like halfway happy.”

“By… 5-1-5?”

“5:15. Yeah, sure.”

“Promise?”

Hopper leaned forward, sincerity in his eyes. “Yes. I promise.”

“Halfway happy.” El shrugged before digging into her food. The sight caused a small smile to grace his features, the man reaching out to ruffle her curls. El smiled and breathed out a quiet laugh as Hopper began to eat as well.

-------------------------------------------------

Halloween. One day out of the year that took weeks of planning and preparation. Any other year, Doc would have jumped out of bed, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, dressing herself in her chosen costume of the year. She was especially excited about this year’s, considering she had made it on her own. Any other year, this would have been an amazing day that would lead into the best night of the year for not only her, but for the Party. This year was different, though.

Doc woke up with a fogged mind and sleep heavy in her eyes. She forced herself out of bed and trudged to her closet and barely looked at the brown-and-tan-striped shirt and yellow pants she pulled out. After pulling her clothes on, she turned to her vanity and sat herself down. Still not allowed to wear makeup, Doc tried her best to make herself look less undead. She did very little to her hair and settled for a yellow headband to tame it. Once she was done, she brushed her teeth in the bathroom and headed downstairs.

“You’re up early, (Y/N).” Karen acknowledged her daughter, who had silently entered the kitchen. Indeed, Doc woke up over half an hour earlier than she usually did. This was both because she couldn’t stay asleep, and because she wanted to avoid her brother as much as possible after their argument the night before. “I haven’t even finished making breakfast.”

“It’s okay, Mom. I’ll just eat cereal.”

“You’re not going to wait for Michael?” She turned to Doc, frowning in confusion. “And where’s your costume? I wanted to take pictures of you two.”

Doc headed over to their cabinets sluggishly. “I’m not done with my costume. I’m gonna finish it after school.”

“Promise to let me take pictures before you go trick-or-treating?”

“I promise.” She gave a small smile. As Doc ate her cereal beside her father, who was silently reading his newspaper, she could hear the faint groan of the floorboards from upstairs. Mike and Nancy (most likely Nancy) had begun to wake up and get ready for the day. Not wanting to risk having to interact with her brother, Doc gulped down the last of her cereal and stood from the table. “I’m gonna go put on my skates.”

After watching her daughter leave the kitchen, Karen turned to her husband. “What is going on with her?”

“Hm?” Ted hummed, still engrossed in his reading.

“(Y/N). She’s never up this early. And she was moving slowly. She looked like she hardly slept.”

“Probably up all night on that radio, talking to that Byers boy.”

Karen twisted her pursed lips to the side in contemplation just before Doc skated back into the kitchen. She bid her parents farewell with a kiss to their cheeks (Ted instinctively leaned towards her for his kiss) before she left out of the front door. Slinging her backpack on, Doc began her way down the cul-de-sac.

The neighborhood was quieter at this time of morning. Not many children were on their way to school by now, most of them actually getting ready for the day. But Doc needed to get away. Her bedroom was a prison. Any inside area was. She needed the endless outdoors, where she could breathe fresh air and think clearly. Especially now that she was alone.

“Morning, kid.”

Or so she thought. Turning her head to the side, she saw Chief Hopper driving slowly on the road to match her pace. It wasn’t often that she had run-ins with the Chief, even after everything they had been through a year ago, but when she did, it was almost like he was completing a task. Like this was something he had to do sometimes. It was what made her realize that Hopper must have cared for her to some extent to go out of his way to check up on her every once in awhile.

“Morning, Chief.”

“Need a ride?”

“No, I have my skates.”

When he continued to stare at her with a deadpan expression, she sighed and skated over to his vehicle, climbing in once he stopped. Buckling herself in, Doc stared down at her knees nervously. Hopper was about the only cop she had grown comfortable around, and even that was a strong word to use.

“You’re out here pretty early.”

She nodded.

“Thought I told you to be outdoors with someone. Not by yourself.”

“I don’t need to be babysat like a little kid.”

Hopper raised his brows. “I know. Believe me, I know. You’re one of the most mature kids I’ve ever met. But it isn’t safe. Not even for you.”

Doc inhaled deeply. “I don’t think I’ve ever forgotten how in danger I’ve been in for the past year. But I just want to be normal sometimes. I wanna… be able to go outside alone. Without fear. I’m tired of looking over my shoulder, Hopper.”

Shaking his head, Hopper stared forward. “I’m sorry, kid. I really am. You don’t deserve any of this. Don’t deserve to be hunted, don’t deserve to keep such a big part of you a secret from people important to you. If I could take all of this away from you, I would,” At that, he received a small smile from Doc in appreciation. “So, I heard you witnessed one of Will’s episodes the other day.”

Doc hummed with a nod. “It was kinda scary. He just looked straight at me, horrified. And he was calling out to me. Asking me how we got there. He must’ve been talking about whatever nightmare he was living in.”

Hopper frowned. “Will saw you?”

“He must have. He looked straight at me.”

“And he spoke to you?”

“Yeah. Why?”

He shook his head. “He’s never done that before. Never seen anyone, never spoke to anyone. You’re the first.”

Doc swallowed and tipped her head down in shame. “Is it a good thing I’m around Will?”

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and Doc knew that Hopper was the only police she could trust when he answered, “I think it’s great for the both of you. You’re gentle with him, he opens up to you. You’re probably one of the best people he could be around.”

Pulling up to Hawkins Middle, Hopper placed a hand on the back of the girl’s seat. “You be careful, kid.”

“Thanks, Hopper.” She whispered with a smile before exiting the car. Turning around, she lifted her hand up in a short wave, Hopper sending one back as he drove away. Almost immediately, a hand had set itself upon her head.

“Why did the Chief drive you here?”

Spinning around, Doc sighed in relief to see Brenda and Sheriece staring at her in curiosity. “Oh. Um, he checks on us sometimes. My family. After everything with Will, you know?”

“Geez, so you have the Chief breathing down your neck?” Brenda cringed, Sheriece matching her expression.

“(Y/N), honey, I mean this in the most concerning way possible, but you look like shit.”

Doc’s face dropped. “Wow. Thanks, Riece.”

“You know I love you,” Sheriece shrugged as the three girls continued their way towards the school building. “But seriously. Did you stay up all night talking to your boyfriend?”

“Did you two sit and giggle all night over your walkie-talkies?” Brenda joined in the teasing, enjoying the way Doc became flustered.

“I bet you guys talked about your nerdy little board game like the two little nerdy lovebirds you are.”

Doc huffed and crossed her arms. “D&D is not a board game.”

“Oh, (Y/N)!” Brenda turned to Sheriece, gently grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her a little. “Now that we’ve got Mike off our backs, I can finally tell you how much I love you! Be mine forever?”

“Oh, Will!” Sheriece fanned herself and smiled in feigned bashfulness. “Of course, I’ll be yours! I’ve only been in love with you since the sixth grade!”

“I now pronounce us nerd and nerdy wife!”

Face on fire, Doc watched in horror as the two girls before her embraced and pretended to make out like a couple of teenagers. The poor girl could only take so much before she started to notice people oddly looking at the trio. “Okay, okay, stop!” Doc giggled, breaking the two away from each other. “You guys are so annoying!”

“Who ya gonna call?”

“Ghostbusters!”

Hearing the familiar group of voices, the three turned to where the bike rack was to see the Party all standing there, embracing each other. Doc excitedly squealed when she saw Will wearing a matching Ghostbusters jumpsuit as the rest of the boys. “Look at him! Ugh, he’s so… so…”

“So nerdy.” Sheriece finished with a shake of her head.

“So very nerdy.” Brenda added before turning to her friend with a soft look. “Go to him, (Y/N).”

Without another word to her friends, Doc pushed off and skated towards the Party. Mike and Lucas seemed to have been arguing about something as usual, so Doc didn’t find it inappropriate to intrude. “Look at this group of exterminators!” She called out. When they turned to her, Will looked the most overjoyed, while Mike looked the least. In fact, he even looked ashamed if you squinted. Boyfriend and girlfriend embraced with wide smiles. “Will, oh my gosh! You look so freakin’ cute!” Doc gushed, pulling away only to press a kiss to his cheek.

Will’s face was red as a tomato when she fully pulled away, avoiding the teasing faces Lucas and Dustin were making at the two. “(Y/N)... don’t call it cute…”

“What? You are! All of you are!” She took a second to look over the boys’ costumes. They looked really amazing, in her opinion. Especially Will’s. His was clearly made with love. It wasn’t store-bought like the other boys. Her observant eye saw that it was a jumpsuit a slightly darker color than the others with the patches sewn on, no doubt by Joyce. When her eye caught Mike and Lucas’s name tags, she frowned in confusion. “Why are there two Venkmans?”

The four threw their heads back with loud groans.

-------------------------------------------------

Doc was certain she had lost her mind a long time ago.

Skating down the hallways after breaking away from the Party, she had no one to speak to. Students passed by her either with a smile or without even a passing glance. She tried her best to smile back at her fellow peers, but it was difficult when all she could see was them covered in blood. And the walls. The floor. The ceiling. Her hands.

Her breathing shaky, Doc’s pace gradually slowed as her head whipped all around the area. Ahead of her was a corpse on the ground. She didn’t want to go any closer, but she had nowhere else to go in the empty, bloody hall, the sound of chatter fading away the closer she got to the body.

Stopping before it, her stomach churned at the headless body of the agent that had lifted her into his arms all those months ago, carrying her away to a life in the lab again. With no way out. He was going to hurt her. All of the agents were. Dr Brenner was going to hurt her. She had to. She had to.

When she blinked, the corpses of every single agent she killed surrounded her, their headless bodies covered in their own blood. Doc slowly reached her hands up and clutched at her hair, tears welling up in her eyes.

“What is the matter with you?”

She sniffled. “Everything.”

A hand clamped down on her shoulder and shook her. Blinking again, Doc was back. The hallway was once again filled with students that were now moving around her, for she was standing in the middle of the hallway. The hallway that was no longer covered in blood, no longer littered with dead bodies. Turning to the owner of the hand, she widened her eyes at Max, who stared at her with furrowed brows.

“Jesus, Wheeler, you look like you saw a ghost.”

Desperate for a save, Doc let out a weak scoff and broke out into a small half smile. “Who ya gonna call?”

Max rolled her eyes with a hint of a smile before the two began skating down the hall once again. “Yeah, I saw the stalkers.”

“Oh, have I told you their names yet? The one with black hair, that’s Mike. My brother. The little one is Will, my boyfriend. The dark-skinned boy is Lucas and the curly hair is Dustin.”

“Good to know,” Max slowly nodded, coming to a stop at a locker. Doc stopped as well and watched as she opened her locker, placing her board inside. “I thought you’d come in a costume, too.”

Doc tilted her head. “That’s pretentious of you.”

Max frowned. “I don’t think you know what that word means.”

“Oh, yes, I do.”

“Well, that’s a strong word for what I just said.”

“I like using strong words. They’re for strong claims,” Doc shrugged. “Just like how it’s pretentious of you to think my friends have bad intentions. I think they just wanna get to know you and are too awkward to normally go through with it. Moreso Dustin and Lucas. I’m sure you’ll like them. Why don’t you come trick-or-treating with us?”

“What?” Max almost laughed, but held off on it when she saw how serious the girl was. “Why would I go trick-or-treating with four stalkers?”

Doc jutted her bottom lip out in a sort of shoulderless shrug. “I’ll be there, too.”

“Is that supposed to convince me further?”

“Maybe,” Doc sped up. “If you consider it, we’re meeting at the Maple Street cul-de-sac at seven. The stalkers are very punctual this day of the year, so it’s seven exactly.”

Classrooms weren’t much better for Doc. The longer each of her teachers would drone on, the more she would zone out until she heard nothing. Blinking, she saw the tall, lanky figure of the Demogorgon with its back up against the chalkboard, opening its mouth to nash its rows of teeth at her. Gasping, Doc nearly fell out of her seat.

“Ms Wheeler?”

Shaking her head, Doc was back in the classroom filled with students now staring at her, their teacher impatiently tapping her foot as she waited for Doc to turn her attention back to her. “Are we on task again?”

“Y-Yes, ma’am.”

The remainder of the day was a very long, very difficult trek through classrooms and lunch. Her only solace was either the Party or Brenda and Sheriece. But even then, she couldn’t always focus on them. Not when she was so exhausted. She had nearly fallen asleep in all of her classes that day. Doc felt she could finally breathe when they were let out of school. Will had been picked up by Joyce, so it only left the four of them making their way to the Wheeler residence.

“Really, everyone dressed up last year.” Dustin sighed as the group biked (and skated) down the empty road. “It’s a damn conspiracy, I’m telling you.”

“Don’t worry, Dust,” Doc smiled. “I would’ve joined you had my costume been finished.”

Lucas shrugged. “Maybe we’re just getting too old.”

Ears perking, Doc turned her head to the sound of rock music in the distance. “Do you guys hear that?”

“No, Doc,” Dustin sighed. “We don’t have heightened senses like you do.”

“Sounds like a car,” She whispered. Had she looked away a second later, she wouldn’t have seen the blue Camaro zooming toward them, showing no signs of stopping. “Shit, it is!”

“Go, go, go!”

“Mike, you need to haul ass!”

At the very last second, just as the four had thrown themselves off of the street and into the dirt, the Camaro swerved out of the way, continuing its way down the road. Just before the car could get too far ahead, Doc made very brief eye contact with a familiar redhead.

“Was that…” Dustin huffed as they all stumbled to their feet.

“Mad Max.”

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[kaffeinic]

Caffeinic | Bang Chan

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | Epilogue

Pairing: Reader x Barista!Bang Chan

Genre: Fluff // Romance

Warnings: Fem!Reader // Mildly Adult Language

Preamble: You’ve been going to the same coffee shop for the past four years. You’ve ordered the same thing almost every single day, and you never, ever skip on that part of your morning. So, when Mrs. Park hired a new barista and the once serene café was suddenly flooded with people every second of the day, you were less than thrilled.

The night had finally passed, completely uneventful. The next morning, you found yourself slipping into a black button-up, black ripped jeans, and Doc Martins. Before exiting your apartment, you slipped on a black trenchcoat, grabbing your bag and running a hand through your hair. The cold December air bit your nose, causing you to sneeze. You rubbed it cautiously, praying that it wouldn’t start leaking.

The day at university passed agonizingly slowly, and you found yourself restless in your seat by the last class. You felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Hey~!” Junseok said. “How’s it going?” He asked. You smiled. You’ve both grown much closer since the failed date with Chan. He helped you get through it by remaining peachy lol throughout the process. You couldn’t help but wonder why he would still help, even after you chose Chan over him.

“I’m alright. I have a lot floating through my mind at the moment. What about you?” You asked. He frowned.

“When are you going to tell me what was bothering you?” He questioned. “If you want my help, I need to know.” He said. You hung your head and nodded.

“I’ll tell you after class.” You promised. He smiled and hummed in understanding. The professor lectured the class for another half hour before giving you all the details of your assignment. You scribbled down the information and closed your notebook, slipping out of the classroom quietly. Junseok quickly caught up with you.

“So?” He said. You sighed, feeling bad for complaining to him about what happened with Chan after what had happened between the two of you.

“Chan and I were going on a date. Seoyeon showed up.” You began. His face twisted into a grimace when you mentioned Seoyeon. He nodded, waiting for you to continue. He must not be on good terms with her, either. “She told me that Chan had been kissing other people at the party. He had told me he wasn’t going to date or do anything along those lines long before that party.” You said. Junseok began to laugh. You wore a horrified expression. “Are you laughing at me?” You asked. He composed himself, then shook his head.

“No. Meet me at the café in an hour and a half.” He said. You cocked an eyebrow.

“What does this have to do with anything?” You asked. He smiled.

“Just trust me. Have I done anything wrong to you before?” He questioned. You shook your head. He had been nothing but kind to you from the moment you both first spoke.

“Okay. I’ll see you then.” You said. After departing, you went to the library, which was a five minute walk from the café. Typically, you would have just waited inside the coffee house, but you didn’t want to have to face Chan any earlier than necessary. After spending nearly all of your time reading a fantasy book with a title you couldn’t pronounce, you left the library and walked a block and a half to the café. The tinted doors revealed very little about what was going on inside. You crossed your fingers, hoping to avoid a crisis.

“Junseok better have a good reason for this...” You muttered, entering the building. The bell chimed, and your nostrils were flooded with the amazing scent of espresso. You hummed, closing your eyes for a moment before closing the door. You made an audible ‘ah’ sound as you spotted the source of the aroma. A steaming cup of espresso sat idly on the bar counter next to Mrs. Park, who waved enthusiastically.

“Y/n! How are you, honey?” She asked. You smiled, walking over and sitting in your usual bar stool.

“I’m alright. You?” You asked. She hummed.

“I’m doing very well. We’ve been busy. Chan has been a big help.” She said. You watched as her glance found yours when she said Chan’s name. She clearly wasn’t over what had happened. You looked at your hands, which were resting in your lap, twiddling your thumbs. It was then that you heard the bell ring again, Junseok appearing in the doorway. There were two people behind him, but you couldn’t quite see who it was. He telling them to come inside. A girl walked in, waving to you. You hesitantly waved back, peering around the edge of the doorframe. A man was standing outside, apparently refusing to come in.

“Come on, this will help - I promise.” Junseok said the the mystery man. You saw a silhouette shake its head. Junseok grabbed the man’s arm, pulling him into view. It was Chan. His hair was in crazy, disheveled curls per usual, and his gaze found yours instantly. You looked at Junseok with a scowl that closely resembled Chan’s.

The three of them made their way to you, Chan trailing behind. He shoved his hands in his pockets, hiding his face. He wasn’t mad, as far as you could tell. He was just very uncomfortable. You fully understood why. He donned a plain white tee, blue jeans, and a pair of boots. A sweater was hanging over his right forearm, the soft blue colour catching your eye.

“Y/n, meet Eunji. Eunji, meet Y/n.” Eunji held out her hand hesitantly, and you shook it with a smile.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You said. She seemed immediately more relaxed when you spoke with a soft tone.

“You, too.” She said.

“Eunji has something she wants to tell you.” Junseok said. You raised a brow and looked at the girl. She nearly hid her entire face in her hair, looking away.

“Junseok told me about what happened with you and Chan.” She said. “Did he never tell you what happened?”

You looked down. “I didn’t listen when I first was told about it. He explained the last time we spoke, but he has no proof.” You said. Eunji nodded.

“At the party, - it was my first one - I was playing a game with some friends from university. It was a tweaked version of Truth or Dare.” She said. “All of us were drunk, - not Chan, he was just watching - and I was dared to kiss the hottest guy in the room.” She looked at the floor. “It was me, not Chan. I walked up and kissed him, and he pulled away really quickly.” She explained. “You can ask Junseok, too. He was watching us with Chan. They’re really good friends.” She said. “I’m so sorry for this.”

You stood up and walked closer to her. “I’m not mad at you. You didn’t know.” You said. She looked up, a small smile gracing her face. “Thank you for telling me, really. This changes everything.” Chan’s head raised and turned in your direction, eyes hopeful. Junseok smiled, walking to you. He enveloped you in a big hug, laughing.

“Treat him well. He’s head over heels for you.” He whispered in your ear. You wrapped your arms around him, too. He gave you a squeeze before pulling away, motioning for Eunji to exit with him. You bowed to her and smiled, thanking her again. Now it was just you and Chan in the café, completely ignoring the busy atmosphere around you. You moved closer to him, smiling slightly.

“You were telling the truth.” You said. “I’m sorry for doubting you.” Chan’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“I think anyone would have.” He said. “Are... we good now?” He stuttered over his last sentence, looking directly into your eyes. You giggled and nodded.

“We’re more than good.” You said. He laughed and closed the gap between the two of you, wrapping his arms around your body. He hugged you tightly - so tightly, in fact, that you couldn’t even wrap your arms around him. He chuckled as you grunted with effort. He loosened his grip and pulled away slightly, looking at you with loving eyes.

“I missed you, Babygirl.” He said. You smiled gleefully.

“I missed you, too.” You replied. He grabbed your hands and led you around the corner, just out of the line of sight of the customers in the café. He put his hand on your cheek.

“Now, since you were so bent out of shape about a illegitimate kiss, can I have a real one?” He asked. You looked down, giggling at his cheeky attitude. Nodding, you felt his other hand tilt your chin upwards. He leaned down and softly brushed his lips against yours, smiling into the kiss. You rolled your eyes.

“I thought you said you wanted a real kiss.” You said. Chan smirked at your comment, moving closer so that your body was sandwiched between his and the wall. You could feel his chest move as he exhaled and inhaled, clasping the sides of his shirt in your hands. You felt his solid body beneath the fabric as his nose brushed against yours. He closed the gap, this time kissing you deeper. He wasn’t rough, but the kiss wasn’t as ghostly soft as it had been the first time. Your heart jumped when his fingers grazed your neck. You sighed into the kiss, which was significantly longer than the previous one. When he pulled away, you let out a small whine, inducing a deep laugh to erupt from him.

“I’d kiss you more, but it’s poor work etiquette.” He said. You rolled your eyes.

“Aren’t you off the clock?”

“Yeah, but I’m sure you would never forget it if someone caught us kissing in the hall.” He informed, touching his nose against yours. You giggled again, placing a hand on his right cheek, to which he smiled, a small dimple gracing the other. He moved sideways to give you a peck as he pulled away. His hands stayed wrapped around yours, rubbing circles.

“I really am sorry for not believing you, Channie.” You said. He released his grip on one of your hands, touching your face so as to make you look at him.

“Don’t ever be sorry for that. You had every reason to think what you did.” He said. You smiled, and he rubbed his thumb over the lifted edge of your lips. “We have a lot to catch up on.” He said.

“What do you mean?” You asked. He frowned.

“I know where your phone is.” He said. You raised a brow.

“Where?”

“Seoyeon has it.” Your eyes widened.

“When did you find out?” You asked.

“This morning. When it had first gone missing, I let a friend of mine know. He works at the service company. I asked if he could be on the lookout for pings or anything that could tell us where it was.” Chan explained.

“How do you know Seoyeon has it?” You raised a brow.

“She clears out an entire section of the gym twice a week. It pinged there twice, and only on the days that she would be there.” He said. Your head hung as you rubbed the back of your neck.

“I should have known she was part of this.” You said.

“How about we go get your phone back?” He asked, grinning.

“You’re way too excited about this.” You said. He laughed.

“An opportunity to put Seoyeon in her place, and finally being able to get your number?” He said. “Hell yeah!”

~

Fanart time!

This chapter’s fanart is by @woo-for-woojin! I love this! Feel free to send in your own fanart as well!

There’s the ever-awaited fluff! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. If you did, please drop a like and reblog with your feedback for all of your friends, mutuals, and any other kpop lovers to see~ Thanks for reading, and have a nice day!

* DISCLAIMER: I do not own any gifs/photos used in this post. I do own the written content. Do NOT repost/edit. *

🏷 @punk-pan-bih-yeets-thru-life • @hoshithehamster • @woo-for-woojin • @deceased-pumpkin-babe • @ethereal-chanracha • @midnatwlp • @joohowdy • @ckyunwon • @yeollliee • @aquietkerfuffle • @royalhvangs

[rocky-maneo]

Big Girls Don’t Cry [self-para]

“Interesting that you think of it that way,” the lowlife chuckled, blood staining his teeth and seeping onto his lips.

“What the fuck are you on about?” Rocky droned in a bored tone, her hands busy with ejecting the clip out of the gun covered in his blood. As she began to empty the clip, the sharp clink of metal clashing onto the pavement below, she continued. “You talk so much, but say nothing.”

“Oh, little one, I think I’m saying quite enough.”

Her gaze fell to him before she lifted her foot, pressing the bottom of her Doc Martin’s into his forehead with some force. “Shut up.”

Another chuckle fell from his lips as he spit up more blood. “You beat the shit out of me for answers yet you haven’t gotten the answer you need.”

She rolled her eyes as she shifted her weight to her grounded foot, forcefully pushing down his face into the cement ground, his face scraping against it slightly from the impact. “Then start talking.”

“Do you trust a word I say?”

“I trust you about as much as I trust a weather report. I’m taking it with a grain of salt, dickbrain. Now what do you need to tell me? Spit it out.”

Her Korean pronunciation was starting to suffer terribly. Her anger was palpable, rolling off of her like tidal waves building just out beyond the shoreline as she stood over him pressing his face further into the cement ground beneath them. He chuckled again, sighing in what seemed to be a delighted tone. “You and me, we aren’t that much different from one another.”

“Don’t think for one second I won’t use your face to wipe birdshit off this pavement. We are nothing alike.”

“You really have no idea what happened all that time ago? You weren’t all that young then.”

“If you keep saying a bunch of shit instead of just saying what you were going to hours ago, I will literally leave you to bleed out in your car,” she said, her voice laced with every ounce of promise she could convey. When she finally worked her way to one bullet left in the clip, she inserted it and locked it.

There was a lengthy pause after the clip clicked into place as she locked it, one that almost made her wonder if the scum beneath her boot was still conscious. “Little girl--”

“I’m not little.”

“Little girl--”

Digging the heel of her boot into his cheek, she ignored the slight pop she felt. “I’m not little, piece of shit.”

“At least my mother didn’t sell me for a plot of land and a pocket full of 50 bhat.”

The world did not end with a bang, or a whisper, but rather, one silent scream at time. 

One hundred deafeningly quiet screams. Ones that kept her awake; ones that echoed through the hallway of every memory kept locked away, refusing to leave.

For Rocky, her world ended at twelve. The rest of her long life would serve as a timekeeper to that dog-eared moment in time. She would never be anything more than a kitsune who was sold to a bidder who then sold her to wealthy families who desired “pets” as another trophy in their trophy case. 

Returning to Thailand was a goal of Rocky’s. The country she hardly knew but was always reduced to while living abroad. 

It was far less beautiful than she remembered. Perhaps industrialization and the push to modernize had taken some of its charm away. Or maybe it was a romanticized land where things were ideal as a coping mechanism for how shitty everything after Thailand seemed to be. The life of complete solitude, subjugation and an anger that only seemed to worsen the longer she breathed--her home was always seen as a paradise whenever she reverted back to her life before she was trafficked.

It was a life of freedom, childish wonder, and playing along the canal. Naive to the world’s harsh realities. A paradise just based off of that.

However, as she made her way through the dirt roads outside Phuket’s city center and the rush of noisy tourists seemed to paint an entirely different picture altogether. She was nearing the stretch of lands owned by several resorts and private luxury realtors. From the information she gathered, she had important business at the Marina Cove Resort, one of the largest resorts in the area.

Rocky knew it was tricky, banking on all this intel to be accurate and correct. Deep down, she still wasn’t sure she could trust the Chinese trafficker who seemingly was still in contact with her mother. She wasn’t entirely sold. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to look into it herself. With his information and a little digital digging, she figured out a few more pieces to the puzzle that prompted her to book a flight to Thailand. Information such as her still working at a resort, changing her name to Rita and how she was now married to a realtor in Phuket.

It was amazing to her, how drastically her mother’s life had changed over the century. She went from a tin shack along the canals of Phuket, working as a housekeeper at two resorts and a woman who lost her daughter for god knows what reason to a wife who was well off and worked for one resort in their catering department. Just the thought of it made the bile bubble at the back of her throat.

Hours later, she meandered into the resort. Strolling with confidence up to the desk with a stolen credit card that she claimed was her father’s, she checked into her reserved room under a completely fake name. Weeks ago, she set this up. As soon as she learned about her mother’s new position at Marina Cove, the tech-savvy girl worked to get as much information about her normal routine as possible. There was a morbid sort of interest for the young kitsune. While she could honestly hear that same statement resonating at the back of her head, the one from the Chinese trafficker who revealed she was sold, not stolen, there was still a part of her that missed the woman. Something irrational within her brought up those nostalgic feelings and it made her feel like she couldn’t breathe.

That night brought no easy dreams. In fact, she felt sick at one point, so sick, she barely made it to the toilet in time to spew the contents of her skimpy dinner. A mere reminder that she wasn’t well off 95 years later. Even after all of these years of independence, Rocky still didn’t make a whole lot of money and ended up stealing money in order to afford the airplane ticket. The hotel room was stolen too. Meanwhile, it seemed after a day of following her mother, she was doing well for herself. She worked as a catering liaison at the resort and helped potential clients explore their options for holding weddings, birthdays, family reunions, etc. at the resort. She had a nice comfy life with her new husband and that was both comforting and sickening all at the same time.

After a night where she barely slept, she used that morning to tail her mother. In shorts, a crop top and sandals, looking foolish in her opinion, she followed at a sizable distance. She watched as she gave a site tour to a potential wedding party. The way she beamed and raved about all the great food packages that came with the event space was entrancing. 

She looked nothing like her, Rocky thought with a nauseating realization. Nose shapes, full lips, eyes--all of it looked so different when she compared herself to the older kitsune. She got almost nothing from her mother and that made her jaw flex as she watched her mother throw her head back as she laughed at the groom’s unfunny joke. She seemed so confident as she continued the tour, giving specifications on all the ballrooms and the reception area for said ballrooms. Her mother wasn’t as tall as her, she noted. Perhaps a trait passed on by her other parent--the mysterious person she never knew. Her mother’s short arms extended and it only prompted the young kitsune to look at her own long limbs.

Another thing she seemed to not pick up from her mother was the cheerful disposition. She seemed so content and happy as she walked around. And sure, that could just be her front-facing demeanor with prospective clients, but there was a gut feeling within Rocky that told her she was happy. Happier than she ever remembered her before.

In this moment, with the sun creating a perfect halo of light around her, it was easy for her to forget those words that stuck like glue in the back of her head.

“She knew what was coming and weighed out what was more important. Guess you didn’t make the cut, sweetheart.”

Those words were like a stain. The harder she scrubbed at it, to erase it from her memory and cling to a memory that she was stolen, ripped from her mother’s side, the deeper it set in. The more it set in, the less she could pretend like those words didn’t hurt. For the last twenty years, Rocky tried her hardest to understand why her mother would give her up. Sure, they were dirt poor and lived in a tin shack along the canals. They had nothing but each other. But that wasn’t so terrible, was it? Difficult, and, perhap most of the time it was trying, but that was hardly a reason to just give one’s child away. No matter how much she tried to rationalize it in her head, the kitsune came up with no justifiable reason as to what happened.

Following her mother led the raven-haired woman to a beautiful and sleek mansion just outside the resort area. Secluded, private and easy access for a girl used to breaking into any and everything. Her mother lived in a house made of stucco or similar solid material. No metal to be seen. The roof looked to be sturdy and without holes. A dream of a house and better than her sub-basement apartment back in Gwangju.

It was even harder to deny the words from the Chinese trafficker when she saw the lush and beautiful landscape surrounding the sprawling estate. The home looked gorgeous with the tropical backdrop. Modern and chic in every way. For her to have gone from rags to this, it only seemed to feed into the idea that maybe she did have to give Rocky up in order to have all of this. Another sickening turn in her stomach made her nearly spew the entire contents of her stomach, blood simmering just there beneath her skin.

The stakeout taught her a few things. She owned a vehicle. A very nice foreign brand. An Astin Martin actually. Her husband was tall and a little older with completely gray hair. He wore a bespoke suit that first time she laid eyes on him. He was somewhat handsome and pale. Almost looked foreign. He drove a Porsche. He seemed to treat her well in the few hours she could stomach observing. It must’ve been nice to find love after all these years. Probably most shocking of all was just how serene everything was. From her vantage point in a tree near the house, everything looked like it had a place and nothing was out of that designated spot. Blindingly clean, white cabinets in the kitchen, pristine dark wood floors, stainless steel counter tops that gleamed when the light hit it just right.

A perfectly secluded escape tucked away in Thai jungle.

Just as she determined she’d seen all she could take for the day, another set of headlights bobbed and flashed as the car pulled into the driveway to the house. Curiosity was getting the best of the young kitsune, and so she stayed there, perched between branches, her back uncomfortably digging into the rough bark of the tree as her eyes focused in on the final car. It came to a full stop and parked behind her mother’s Astin Martin. The last bit she saw of her mother and her new husband, they weren’t in any clothes to receive guests at this hour and it was rapidly getting darker. Her mind tried to rack over who would be arriving this late to a house they didn’t live in with people who looked like they were settling in for the evening, but she was coming up blank.

So, she just decided to watch and see what happened.

A man dressed in casual clothing hopped out of the car to open the passenger-side backseat door. Rocky was so engrossed in the mystery of who would emerge from the car, she didn’t notice how far she was leaning forward or that she was holding her breath. Her eyes narrowed as she saw a short leg peek from the bottom of the car door. Soon, it was a mess of jet black hair. With a tan leather backpack slung over his tiny shoulders, Rocky watched in silent confusion as a teenage boy emerged from the backseat. Who was this?

A shrill laugh sounded from somewhere and her head whipped around, trying to figure out where it was coming from. But by the time she turned to face the car once again, she found a second kid crawling from the backseat and pushing the older and taller boy. It was a small girl with her hair in a ponytail, her school uniform an absolute mess of wrinkles and what looked to be dirt on her skirt. Bone straight jet black hair almost identical to the bob she had when she was younger, she watched as a thin preteen arose from the car. She had to be a preteen. As they bickered among themselves, Rocky realized she didn’t know enough Thai anymore to keep up. A language she’d long forgotten to make room for the Korean language she used on a daily basis.

Who the fuck are they? 

She stayed there in that tree, watching the children bicker as they moved around the car, thanking the man for the ride and handing off an envelope to him. As they waved the car back out of the driveway and onto the private road leading back to the dirt road she walked along to make it to the estate, she watched a porch light illuminate the back deck of the house. The soft light guided the two back toward the house and as they continued to bicker lightning fast between the two of them. At the door was Rocky’s mother, smiling fondly as she scooped them both into a hug, ruffling the younger girl’s hair.

Dumbstruck and unable to process the image before her, the young kitsune straightened her rigid torso as she continued to watch the interaction. Kissing both kids at the crown of their heads, she laughed when the younger one jumped around excitedly, her backpack spilling the entire contents of the bag onto the wooden deck. 

Who the fuck are they?

Her keen hearing picked up one word in all the flurry of indecipherable Thai. It was one of the few Thai words she remembered. 

Maa.

The chill that ran through her was bewildering. It started at the top of her scalp and only descended at the slowest of paces. As if someone was pouring a bucket of ice water on her but instead of a splash, it was a steady trickle. Her eyes bore into the two children and her mother who was still helping pick up the fallen paper. She said something about dinner, but Rocky wasn’t able to pick up much else, her hearing beginning to turn fuzzy. Her vision blurred, unable to sharply focus on anything in front of her. Why would they call her mom? Why would they go up and hug her like that? Why would she be waiting for their return? Did those children live at the house?

The answer to those questions was obvious, but she couldn’t help but fight that possibility. There’s no way her mother had children. There’s no way Rocky had siblings for...at least ten years without her knowing. No. She was ripped from her mother, never reunited, despite possible efforts made on her mother’s part. No. She wouldn’t have children of her own after something so traumatic, right? 

Right.

[mugsywrites]

In the interest of staying On Brand...

Here is a bit of a self-indulgent Prodigal Son/TWD crossover. Basically non-zombie Desus AU, their backstory almost identical to the one I gave them in Ripples.

Untitled Self-Indulgent Fic

Malcolm had been in Georgia less than a week and was already itching to get back to New York. He knew it made him just another coastal liberal elite cliche, but he still hated working with rednecks. Casual racism and misogyny were problems everywhere, but something about being south of the Mason Dixon line made it all the worse.

So when he needed to make the drive to Athens to interview a potential witness he was relieved that Rick Grimes was the one to accompany him. The sheriff of King County was a pleasant surprise in the sea of good ole boys Malcolm had been dealing with. The guy was quiet, thoughtful, and steady. He reminded Malcolm a bit of Gil, actually. Serial killers were outside this guy’s wheelhouse, and he listened respectfully while Malcolm babbled, only occasionally raising his eyebrows and making a dry comment when Malcolm was being Too Much. During the two-hour drive to Athens those eyebrows got quite a workout.

Although the guy was maybe a little too sharp. Such as when Grimes asked why Malcolm was so sure the recently discovered body was the Surgeon’s work. He’d given Malcolm a piercing look at his breezy explanation of being an “expert” on the Surgeon’s crimes. “Trust me,” Malcolm said, “this was the Surgeon’s work.”

In his head Malcolm heard Gil’s voice, reminding him that right now it was possible, not definite, that Gregory Hill had been murdered by the Surgeon. Could be another copy cat, Gil said, probably another copy cat. Your old man wasn’t one for hiding bodies. He showed one copycat his methods, he could have done it before. He told you he didn’t do it, why would he risk you stopping your visits by lying about it?  

Malcolm didn’t know; and he intended to find out. The biggest deviation from the Surgeon’s method was the care that had gone into hiding the body; it’d been hidden so well that it’d taken twenty years to be found. And Malcolm had asked his father, and the Dr. Whitly had denied it.

But he was lying, and Malcolm knew he was lying. His father hadn’t given any of his usual tells; but Malcolm knew it. Had known it as soon as the words were out of his father’s mouth. He’d also known that the Surgeon very much did not want his son to look into this particular case.

Why. Malcolm turned it over in his head. There was nothing to indicate Dr. Whitly had been in Georgia when Gregory Hill was murdered, but there was also nothing that would conclusively prove that he wasn’t. There was the fact that Whitly had attended a conference in Atlanta the year before Hill’s disappearance. Too close to the time frame for comfort. Whitly could’ve done preliminary recon on the area, then returned later to deflect suspicion. It made Malcolm feel panicky, as he couldn’t stop thinking, oh god, are there others? How many? Whitly hunted close to their home in New York, and he freely admitted to his murders once he’d been caught.

There was also the other major deviation from his father’s standard M.O. Motive. The Surgeon killed because he was bored and the Surgeon killed for self-preservation. He didn’t kill out of anger—Malcolm actually thought his father might be incapable of that emotion—and he certainly didn’t kill for revenge. Except Malcolm could tell from what was left of the body that Hill’s killer had been angry. Except Malcolm knew that his father was lying about not being involved, and that he’d killed Hill in the most painful way possible.

Literally. Despite the decomposed state of the body there was enough for the coroner to recognize the “quartet method” (although Malcolm supposed it would have to be updated to the “quintet method” if Gregory indeed proved to be the final victim.) Dr Whitly went out of his way to discover the most painful method of killing a person—perfecting the technique on four innocent women before going after Gregory Hill with what he’d learned. Malcolm just couldn’t figure out why; or how Hill had even crossed paths with the Surgeon. Dr. Whitly spent less than a week in Atlanta; Hill had lived outside of Savannah and his body had been discovered near Macon.

An hour into the drive there was a lull in conversation, and Malcolm paged through his notes on Gregory Hill with these thoughts swirling through his head. It was difficult pinning down solid information on Gregory Hill; most people who knew him in life were work associates. On the outside the man had been an ‘upstanding citizen’—born in 1945, vanished in 1997. Owned a successful car dealership in Shepherd, Georgia, just outside of Savannah. Married, but his wife had died in 2007. No biological children, but fostered six children, the first coinciding neatly with Hill’s first campaign for public office. Hill served in the Georgia State Legislator from 1990 to 1994, when he lost spectacularly to Hershel Greene. Dr. Greene was deceased, but his according to his children he’d had a very low opinion of Hill. The impression Malcolm had so far of the man was a bit sleazy, but no more than your average rich asshole interested in politics. Certainly not enough to incur the wrath of Dr. Martin Whitley.

Dead end followed dead end. Right now they were trying to track down the foster kids without much luck—two were dead, two were in prison and unwilling to speak with police about anything, one was living in California, and one lived in Athens. Malcolm wasn’t hopeful about learning anything that would shed light on the Surgeon’s motivations—Paul Rovia had only lived with Hill for a few months in 1994. It was just a box to check off.

****************************************************

The address on file for Paul Rovia was a modest two story colonial style house not far from downtown Athens. Grimes parked the cruiser on the street in front, sharp blue eyes taking in everything. There was an attached garage and a short driveway; the garage door was open and Malcom could hear what he thought was Lynyrd Skynyrd drifting out. He and Grimes headed toward the garage, where they could see a figure stretched out on a creeper seat beneath a battered pickup truck.

Malcolm raised his voice to be heard over the music, “Excuse me? Mr. Rovia?”

“Fuck did I say ‘bout callin’ me that?” growled the figure beneath the truck. A grimy hand emerged, grabbed a tool laid out beside him, “You want a divorce so bad just ask.” The guy’s accent was pure Appalachia, so thick Malcolm had trouble making a few words out.

“Uh,” Malcolm said, blinking at this string of nonsense.

“Sorry, maybe we’re in the wrong place,” Rick Grimes interjected, “we’re looking for Paul Rovia, does he live here?”

The man jerked, then slid out from underneath the truck, blinking up at the two men standing in his garage. He was broad-shouldered, with cutoff sleeves that revealed muscular arms and a middle just beginning to soften. It was hard to tell beneath the grime but he looked at least ten years too old to be Paul Rovia, and Malcolm wondered again if they’d gotten the wrong house. Then his eyes focused on Malcolm’s face and his jaw dropped, “What the fuck did you do?”

“Sorry?” Malcolm said, even as the mechanic was pushing himself up off the ground, eyes wide and horrified as he stared between Malcolm and Sheriff Grimes.

“Paul, what the hell—“ the guy started to say, then froze. He had narrow blue eyes that widened in pure shock. When he spoke his voice was a rasp, “What. The. Fuck.”

Beside him Malcolm was aware of Grimes tensing. He didn’t have to look to know that the sheriff’s hand was probably closer to the grip of the big Colt that rested on his hip. Understandable, this guy’s response to them was weird as fuck.

He recognizes me, Malcolm thought, maybe from a true crime doc, but why—

He shook his head, and struggled to keep his voice even, “Let’s start over. I’m Malcolm Bright, I’m a criminal profiler on loan from the NYPD. This is Sheriff Rick Grimes. We’re looking for Paul Rovia, is this his address?”

The guy just stared, jaw still slack, “Malcolm? Malcolm Bright?” He said Malcolm’s name like they were words from a language he’d never heard. Malcolm held up his ID and gave what he hoped was a non-threatening smile. The guy who clearly wasn’t Paul Rovia just stared at it blankly.

“Listen,” Grimes said, “We just want to ask a few questions, Mr. Rovia isn’t in any trouble. You a friend of his?”

When Grimes began to speak the stranger’s eyes flicked toward the sheriff, and when he got to the ‘Mr. Rovia’ part those eyes jerked right back to Malcolm, and they didn’t leave it. Finally, the guy spoke, “I’m his husband. Daryl. Daryl Dixon.”

“Ok,” Malcolm said, blinking a little. This trip was teaching him a bit about stereotypes—he never would’ve guessed the man in front of him was gay. Still, not important. “Is he home? Can we talk to him?”

“He’s uh…he should be inside, or out back,” Dixon said. He stumbled around the truck, eyes never leaving Malcolm’s face. There was a door that connected to the main house, and Dixon opened it and shouted inside, “Paul! Paul, get yer ass out here! Now!” His voice was high-pitched and shrill. Malcolm exchanged a look with Grimes; this was looking more and more like something wasn’t right.

Malcolm heard a faint voice calling out from the house, “Daryl? Babe? Are you ok?”

Malcolm had just enough time to think that the voice sounded familiar when what he guessed was Paul Rovia emerged from the house. Malcolm had a brief impression of long hair and a beard as he went to his husband. “Fuck, what happened? Did you hurt yourself?” Dixon didn’t answer, just stared that wide-eyed, shocked look, then looked back at Malcolm.

Paul Rovia noticed Malcolm and Sheriff Grimes then, and he took a protective step in front of Dixon, “May I help you…”

Then he froze, eyebrows drawing together in confusion as he saw Malcolm’s face. Then his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Malcolm could feel blood draining from his own face as he watched Paul Rovia turn pale with shock.

Malcolm was able to keep his own jaw from dropping, but only barely.

Paul Rovia had hair the same shade of Malcolm’s own, only worn long, past his shoulders. He had a full beard, and made him look a bit like Jesus. Malcolm unconsciously raised a hand to his own bare chin. He’d never grown a beard before, but now he knew what he’d look like if he did. Because Paul Rovia’s long hair and beard weren’t enough to obscure the fact that his face was identical to Malcolm’s own. Same slightly curved nose, same arched eyebrows, same cheekbones, same wide mouth, same blue-green eyes. Although Rovia’s didn’t have the dark circles underneath.

For the second time in Malcolm’s life everything he thought he knew about his father and his family was wiped away.

As Malcolm stared at his brother, at his fucking twin, the shape of what had motivated the Surgeon to kill Gregory Hill started to form.

****************************************************

[oasispolar]

Grey anatomy season 1 1channel

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Luckily you will have enough time to binge-watch every episode in that time. Remember to cancel your subscription before the end of the 30 days so that you do not have to pay a cent. You can watch seasons 1-15 for free with a 30-day free trial from Netflix. A post shared by Grey's Anatomy Official on at 12:00pm PST

[unsettledink]

From the Ask Game Post celebrating finishing Act 1 of Gotcha:

P: Are you what George R. R. Martin would call an "architect" or a "gardener"? (How much do you plan in advance, versus letting the story unfold as you go?)

Grrrrr I have a very low opinion of him lol. But as to the actual question – with the exclusion of Gotcha, definitely a gardener. I generally get a snapshot or a scene or two, and then start working out from there. Sometimes it's just letting it sit for a while and see what starts connecting, and sometimes I'm actively going okay but what happened between? How did they get there? After I've got enough parts I have to start getting a little more specific about the daydreaming. Or, well, I don't, nothing is topping me from posting 2k of one random scene!

(And now I ramble about outlining Gotcha lord what a project:)

Gotcha is a very different experience. It started out because I wanted a lot of not that kinky sex between Quentin and Peter, way back in... ooof, Sept 2019. So I literally made a list of the things I wanted them to do, lol, and then kept thinking of more. There were so many that I wanted to be part of the same fic that I realized I'd have to have some sort of connective bits between, sigh.

And then, uh, the connective bits started getting more important and there were emotions and plot and wtf? By that time I had realized I couldn't put this all in one massive doc, but I didn't have a timeline or a real idea of what went where, just that some certain things happened and how I wanted it to end. Scenes kept popping up and it was getting more and more overwhelming. It didn't help that I was working overnights at a hotel during that time, so I literally had eight hours all alone with nothing to do but daydream and write (well it was a good thing too but).

I realized that as much as I've never been a fan of outlines, I needed something for this monster. I'd finished Better Than not that long ago and not having a structure for it was difficult.

I ended up really liking the format of the percentage outlining I found here, because I could figure out those basic points easily enough, and then start figuring out where the problems went, and then roughly how much space should be filled between them. I probably spent four or five nights messing with it, getting one for the fic as a whole and then one for each of the six acts (also basically why I did six acts vs any other number lol). And while a few things have moved around, those have stayed pretty solid throughout.

Great! But then I reached another point, where it was like... the space between 20% and 35% of one act ends up being like 20k, I need a little more structure withing THAT jfc help.

I spent a really, really long agonizing amount of time trying to map it out precisely on a calendar. Which was really frustrating when I had something pinned to a certain date – say, Halloween – but I wanted scene 1 to happen at least two weeks before that and that meant scenes 2-5 need to happen before that but scene 6 is tied to a date only a month earlier, how can I fit that many scenes in there???? But forcing myself to really work within that framework helped me make stronger connections between scenes and reasons for things to go where they do.

I've gotten away from being exact down to the day of a specific year and let most things fall 'sometime within this week', but it's still really useful. Right now I've actually got a sticky note map up on my wall that I was using to restructure Act 2 before I got really going on edits. I did that for 1-3 at one point and being able to visually see color coded clusters like that was incredibly helpful.

I kind of hope I don't ever have to get that exact or detailed for another fic because holy crap it's been a lot, but I also don't think I could have gotten far on Gotcha without it.

[bughead-fic-request]

Weird Science - Part 2 - The Date

Summary: Jughead and Betty go on their first date after their kiss in the Chemistry lab.

Words: 4,210

Warnings: Swearing, kissing, fingering. 

A/N: A/N: I edited this myself so there are probably errors. You can find the first part here. It’s also on AO3. This is the second part of a request by @gay-for-rey1999.

Jughead let out a shaky breath and smiled, touching his lips, still tingling from the kiss. He took out his phone and called Archie.

“Hey Bro, what’s up?” Archie sang.

“Dude, I’m going on a date with Betty tonight and I need you to tell me what I’m supposed to do.” Jughead asked grabbing his bag and rushing out to his car.

“Jug, what are you talking about. You’ve been on a date before.” Archie was clearly half listening. Jughead could hear the sound of a video game in the back ground and it sounded like he had a friend over.

“Yeah, but not with a girl like Betty.” He admitted as he drove out of the parking lot. “You’re friends with her. Do you have any pointers?”

“Be yourself. If she said yes to a date that means she’s interested. Don’t worry.” Archie hung up and Jughead threw his phone on the passenger seat.

Jughead got home, shaved and showered and spent way too much time picking out something to wear. He settled on a pair of dark jeans, a white short sleeved dress shirt and a pair of converse sneakers. He persuaded his dad to let him take the Volvo and showed up in front of the Cooper residence just before 8.

Betty stepped out in a sheer creme coloured blouse with a lacy black bra on underneath. Her legs were incased in skin tight leather pants and her Doc Martins adorned her feet. If she was wearing makeup it was so light he could barely notice it. She got into the car, leaned over the centre console and gave Jughead a light kiss.

“I’m starving.” She cooed, sitting back in her seat and putting her seatbelt on.

They didn’t say much on their way to Pop’s and Betty played with the radio not being able to settle on a song.

When they got their, Jughead ran around the car to get Betty’s door. “You look nice tonight.” Jughead told her trying to be a perfect gentleman.

“Thanks, you look nice too.” She commented as she headed towards the front door.

They were seated and Betty looked at the menu. “I love this place.” She commented looking at him over the menu.

“Yeah, I come here a lot. I’ve never seen you here before though.” He mentioned.

“I haunt this place when you and all your friends are fast asleep.” Betty smirked.

“Not much of a sleeper?” He asked but the waitress interrupted them.

“What can I get you guys?” She asked.

“I’ll have a cheese burger with bacon, onion rings on the side and vanilla milkshake.” She smiled at the waitress and handed her the menu.

“And you?” She looked over at Jughead.

“Um, yeah, I’ll have a cheeseburger with fries and a strawberry milkshake.” He ordered.

The waitress nodded and left.

“And to answer your question,” Betty seamlessly went right back to their conversation. “I have trouble sleeping so I come here and read, do school work, order a slice of apple pie until I feel sleepy. I’m more of a periodic napper than a solid 8-hour kinda girl.” She shrugged and flashed him a half smile.

“So you just nap all day?” He asked.

“Sure, if I’m exhausted I’ll grab 20-40 minutes in the back of the library. There are few other hiding spots in the school and I can afford to miss a class or two.” She ran her hand through her hair and expertly pulled it back into a ponytail.

“So your parents are cool with you staying out all night?” He asked.

She laughed softly and looked towards the counter, her hair swinging back and forth. She looked so different when she smiled; not a grin or a smirk, but a true smile. It made Jughead excited and nervous to see her like this because he knew this was a side rarely seen by anyone.

“I snuck out a lot when I was younger but then I got caught. I explained why I was sneaking out and my parents put me in therapy. After my therapist told them if I was safe, getting good grades and managing to get enough sleep throughout the day then they shouldn't stop me. I don’t do it much anymore though. I’m sleeping a lot better now.” She shook her head slightly and brushed a stray piece of hair away from her face.

Jughead wondered why she would need to be put into therapy. He didn't dare ask until she was ready to tell him. He hoped they eventually got to a place where she would want to tell him.

“What about you? You seem like an all-American boy. Good looking, smart, on the right sports teams. You're every cheerleaders wet dream and you're the guy everyone wants to be friends with.  You seem like nothing shakes you but when I came into that room yesterday you were a stuttering mess.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“That’s because you’re scary.” He admitted. “And you caught me doing something perverted and embarrassing. I mean until yesterday we had barely spoken to each other.”

“Yeah, why didn’t you ask me out?” She tilted her head to the side, her ponytail swinging behind her.

“I didn’t think you were interested and you’re scary.” He reiterated. “Why didn’t you ask me out if you you’re so confident?” He questioned.

“I wasn’t sure if you were interested and I don’t want to waste my time with anyone who wants to half ass anything.” She answered as their food came.

Her eyes lit up as she looked at her meal and then over at his. “What don’t you like on your burgers?”

“What?” Jughead’s eyebrows furrowed.

“We are on a first date so neither of us are going to specialize our orders because we don’t want to appear high maintenance or fussy. The reality is everyone has one burger topping they hate, so which one is yours?” She looked at him expectantly.

He tried to suppress a smirk but failed. “I hate pickles.”

Betty reached across the table and peeled the sliced pickle off his burger. “Please tell me you like onions?”

“I do.” He confirmed as she pushed her plate towards him and he gathered her onions.

“If I didn’t know any better I would say that makes us soulmates.” She smirked while picking up her burger and taking a huge bite. “So what so you want be when you grow up?” Betty asked when she swallowed, wiping her mouth.

“God…” He answered, letting out a big breath, his hair being blown out of his face. “I have no idea.” He told her honestly. “My parents want me to be a doctor.”

“What kind of doctor?” She inquired as took some of her fries and put them on her burger.

“Any kind of doctor. My mom made a line of Spanx like undergarments that made us relatively wealthy and my dad own the only two garages in town. They want to make sure the Jones last name is not only synonymous with money but also with class and respect.”

“Isn’t that something you want?” She took a big bite of her burger.

“Yeah of course but I just wish I had a clearer picture of my future.” Jughead admitted as he took another bit of his meal.

“I want to be a child psychologist.” Betty said, wiping her hands off, taking a sip of her milkshake.

“I figured you’d want to be a writer considering how much you read.”

She shook her head. “I think that children need someone to listen to them. We put children on a pedestal but we waste no time ignoring them when they have something to say. I think we could solve a lot of problems if we heard them out before things in their lives go bad. See early successes or failures.” She shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe I’ll hate it but I’ve applied to school and we’ll see how it goes.”

“Where did you apply?” He asked.

“Columbia, UCLA, BU and Seattle University. What about you?”

“All the Ivy League schools.”

“Wait,” Betty tossed her napkin on the table, “you have nothing you’re interested in? No hobbies? Nothing you might like to do?”

“Well, I like drawing, comics mostly but I don’t know how that would make me money.”

“But do you like it?” She asked. “Are you happy when you draw?”

“Yeah, I love it.”

“Then don’t give up on it yet, okay?” She raised her eyebrows.

Jughead nodded. “Yeah, alright.”

“I want to see some of this art work.” She shifted around in her seat in excitement.

“I don’t have anything on me right now.”

“Well, on the next date then.” She grinned as the waitress came to the table and took their plates.

Jughead’s heart skipped a beat when she said this. There was a part of him that thought maybe she was playing a prank on him. That she would get him naked and steal all of his clothes leaving him to be laughed at but now he wasn’t so sure anymore. The look on her face made him think she was actually interested in him and Jughead didn’t think he could handle it.

“Do you want dessert?” He asked.

Betty shook her head. “I have something else in mind.” She smiled. “Do you want to go dutch on the check?”

Jughead laughed. “No, I’ve got this one. How about you get it next time?”

“Sounds good.”

Jughead threw two twenties on the table and the both of them left the diner in a hurry.

“So what is it that you had in mind?” He asked as they got into the car.

“Let’s go to the look out on Sweetwater River, you know the one I mean?” She turned her body towards him and looked at him through her lashes.

Jughead knew the place she meant. Teenagers went there to hook up away from the prying eyes of their parents. His mouth went dry and he started to sweat. Jughead had kissed girls before. He had fooled around with girls before. He had gotten a hand job from Veronica Lodge at one of Cheryl Blossom’s parties but he had never been with a girl like Betty before. The girls he had been with were desperate for his approval, but Betty wasn't like them. She was confident, she was sure, she didn’t need anyone to tell her how amazing she was, she knew.

“Yeah, we can go there.” He agreed and drove in the direction of the woods.

They said nothing as they drove. Betty looked out the window while Jughead tried his best to focus on the road and not on the blonde beside him.

When he pulled up next the river he was relieved no one was around. He didn’t want to feel like he was a fishbowl and he didn’t want whispers at school tomorrow. Betty was looking at him when he killed the engine and turned his attention over to her.

“So what did you want to do?” He asked.

“I was thinking that we could sample the soil. Do an experiment.” She shrugged straightening out her blouse.

Jughead’s eyes shifted back and forth. “Seriously?” He said.

Betty couldn’t help but laugh. “No, I was thinking we could get in the back seat and see what happens.” She wiggled her eyebrows and got out of the car.

Jughead took in a deep breath and followed her to the backseat as he hoped and prayed he wouldn’t make a fool of himself.

When he woke up that morning he never would have imagined that he would be about to make out, among other things, with Betty Cooper. She looked at him with hooded lust filled eyes.

She leaned over, placed her lips on his and kissed him deeply. They kissed each other, cautiously placing hands on waists and on necks, weaving fingers through the others hair.

“Why do you like me?” Jughead asked as they parted, breathing heavily.

“I don’t know. I think if I knew I wouldn’t like you. You’re not a jerk, you try to pretend you’re a jock but you’re really just a flustered nerd. You’re my type.” She moved to straddle him.

“I don’t know if I’m as experienced as you.” He admitted grasping the elastic that held her hair up and pulled it out. The minty scent of her blonde locks washed over him.

“How do you know anything about my sexual experiences?” She asked.

“Archie said you fooled around a couple of times.” Jughead told her.

Betty smiled in amusement. “Archie and I made out one time but that’s it. We are just friends and you have nothing to worry about.” She ran her hands through his hair, her eyes drifting over his face. He wondered what she was thinking about as she ran her thumb over his lips.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” Jughead said running his knuckles along her jawline.

That true smile, the one that made her cheeks ample and flush pink spread across her face. “I know but it’s nice to here someone say it. Especially someone like you.”

“So you have a crush on me?” He asked cocking an eyebrows as his hands moved down to the front of her blouse. He began undoing the buttons one at a time. She didn’t stop him.

“Of course I do, Jug. I’m a moody loner but I’m not blind. I’m still of flesh and blood.” Betty reached up and pulled off her shirt that wasn’t doing much to conceal what laid beneath.

She lowered her head to kiss him. His fingers delicately explored the soft skin of her back, running them down the indentation of her spine causing her to shiver. Betty bit on his lower lip and pushed her tongue into his mouth when he gasped at the sensation. She began rolling her hips against his growing erection.

“Betty.” He whispered as his hands continued to roam, rubbing against the soft pleather that covered her ass.

“What is it?” She asked against his neck, placing soft kisses against the sensitive skin there.

“I’m a virgin.” He admitted feeling stupid for having to admit it in the first place.

Betty giggled and her head rested against his shoulder as she continued to laugh.

“It’s really unsettling that you’re laughing.” He said.

She straightened and looked down at him, her hands cupping his face. “Jug, this is our first date, I don’t want to have sex with you.” She smiled sweetly. “We have to wait until at least the third date.”

Jughead’s eyes widened.

“I’m kidding. There is no set timeline for a relationship. We’ll figure it out.”

“Are you a virgin?” He asked.

Betty looked away, bit her lips and shook her head. “I lost my virginity to Reggie in 9th grade. I hated it or at least I hated sex with him. I decided I wouldn’t do it again until I found someone I actually wanted to do it with. That person is you Jughead, whenever you’re ready.” She brushed the hair from his face.

“Reggie Mantle?” Jughead asked a slight look of disgust on his face.

“I was young and stupid and had too many wine coolers.” She shrugged. “I wanted to be popular and then I realized that no popularity was worth how shitty I felt the next day.” She told him.

His brow furrowed. “He didn’t force you into anything did he?” He inquired.

Betty shook her head. “No, no. I made a choice, it was a bad choice but I made it. Does that bother you?”

Jughead shook his head and looked up at her. “No, that’s your past and not my business, all I care about is you, right here and now.”

Betty smiled and bowed her head to kiss him, moving her hands from his jawline to his hair.

Jughead began to learn her body, letting his hands trace the lines of every muscle, every bone, every indentation from clothes that were too tight. He bucked his hips up in between her legs feeling the heat radiating from her.

Betty reached behind her back and snapped open the latches on her bra. She removed the garment and tossed it into the front seat along with her shirt.

Jughead stopped kissing to take her in. He had seen her the day before but it had been such a flash that he really hadn’t remember the specifics. He was able to take his time now, even in the darkness of the car, the moon provided enough light. He was right in his observations before that her breasts did fit her frame and they were a good size. Jughead confirmed this when he took both of them into his hands, soft and ample.

Betty shuddered at his touch, leaning into him and her back arching. “Jug.” She trembled, her hips rotating against him, rubbing his cock in a delicious way that made him want to lose control.

He lowered his head and took a pink, hardened nipple into his mouth. He sucked, tongued and teased her while her erotic moans filled the small space in the vehicle. His fingers tweaked the other nipple until her the motions of her hips were becoming erratic, her breathing short and nearly sob like.

Jughead wrapped his arms around her waist and flipped her so she was lying down on the seat. He grabbed her blouse and removed his own shirt to place behind her head. Betty raked her nails down his abdomen, her fingers tracing the defined outline of his taut muscular abs.

Jughead moved over her, there lips meeting again as his hand snaked down her body. He ran his fingers along the waistband of her pants. “Is it okay if I undo these?” He asked.

Betty nodded fervently, licking her lips as she watched him slowly unbutton her pants.

Jughead’s heart was pounding, he had done this before but not well and he wanted nothing more than to please her. “I know this isn’t the sexiest thing but you need to tell me what you want. If you need me to go faster, slower, deeper.”

She smiled at him softly. “I’ll let you know what I like.” She bit her lip as Jughead’s fingers dipped beneath her underwear.

His digits found her clit and he began to rub slow circles over her sensitive bundle of nerves. Her hips bucked as she let out a groan. She was wetter than Jughead could have imagined. Far wetter than any other girl he had been with and he felt a sense of accomplishment at her reaction. He continued applying more pressure as she eased down her pants to give him easier access.

He watched expression as he pleasured her. Her eyes closed, her face and chest flushed, her hair obscuring her features, her stomach soft and flat and contracting with his touch.  

“I want your fingers inside me.” She requested grabbing his wrist and pushing is down.

Jughead extended his index and middle finger and pushed them inside her, her wet heat cocooning his fingers. She clenched around him and his thumb worked her clit to get her there. He moved in and out of her slowly at first, picking up speed gradually, curling his fingers hoping he was hitting the spot that would make her cum. The spot that would make her say his name.

“Jug.” She said like a warning as her body started to writhe.

“Yeah, baby? What is it?” He whispered in her ear, running the tip of his nose softly along her cheek before placing a kiss on her neck.

“Keep going, I’m almost there.” She panted, gripping the handle behind her.

He moved his fingers faster, her body shaking, her legs trembling, her breathing unstable until her body stilled and a silent cry came from her lips. Jughead felt her flutter around his fingers before she collapsed, her arm draping over her eyes as she struggled to control her breaths.

Jughead sat up and watched her. He couldn’t believe it was actually happening. Something he had always fantasied about, something he desperately wanted was unfolding right in front of him. He had made Betty Cooper cum. He got to kiss Betty Cooper. He got to date Betty Cooper. He got to love Betty Cooper. He hoped she would fall for him quickly because he wasn’t sure he would be able to keep his feeling inside for much longer.

“That was amazing.” She croaked looking at him.

He smiled proudly and leaned down to kiss her. She kissed him back and he immediately felt the difference from the previous kisses. It wasn’t a kiss of excitement or first dates or sexual anticipation. There was feeling behind this kiss, from both sides. He knew in that moment that this was more than just a one date, backseat finger bang, she liked him too.

Betty pulled up her pants and finished getting dressed. She handed him his shirt. “Do you want to have lunch with me tomorrow?” She asked smoothing out her hair.

“Of course I do.” He assured, pulling her into his side, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

“And you want to go to the movies on Friday night?” She inquired.

“Absolutely, whatever you want to see.”

“We’ll get lots of candy?”

“All the candy you want, blue eyes.” He charmed.

They sat together in silence for some time, watching their fingers weave together over and over. They finally got back into the front seat and Jughead drove her home.

When they pulled up, Betty looked over at him with a content smile on her face. “Thank you for tonight. I had a really good time.”

“Me too.” He leaned over and kissed her again. The moment they parted he already missed her. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Betty repeated as she got out of the car.

Betty stood on the sidewalk and watched Jughead drive away, biting her lip to suppress the smile that threatened to come through. It would be the type of smile that would hurt her cheeks.

“How was the date?” Archie asked from the front steps on his home.

Betty could just make him out, sitting down. He was shirtless, grey sweatpants low on his hips and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. “It was really good.” She let the smile loose and walked towards him.

“Good. You both deserve it. I’ve never met two people who are so different but so much the same.” He commented as he turned to look at the front door as it opened behind him.

Betty watched a smiling Kevin Keller emerge and duck down to leave a lingering kiss on Archie’s lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby?” He asked.

“Yep.” Archie confirmed. “In our usual spot?”

“You know it.” Kevin smiled that dazzling golden boy smile he was known for.

They kissed one final time before Kevin walked down the path. He nodded at Betty. “Cooper.”

“Keller.” She responded as she held her hand up to give him a high five as he passed.

Betty waited till he was out of ear shot and took a few steps towards Archie. “He still cool with your relationship being a secret?”

“He understands that I need time to come out.”

“You mean waiting till after high school?”

“Yeah.” Archie took one last drag of his cigarette and put it out on the side of the step. “I mean I just came out to myself like seven months ago. The only people who know I’m gay are you and Kevin. I’ll eventually get there and he knows that.” He stood and walked towards her.

“Doesn’t it bother him that you still date women.” Betty hadn’t checked in with him about Kevin in a long time. She never brought it up unless he did and he had been mum on the subject for sometime. She thought they had broken up.

“He understands because I’m not really dating them. That’s why I go through girls so fast. I don’t kiss them, I don’t take them out. I just walk around school with them until they get bored. To uphold an image. I have 4 months and then I can be who I am.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a hug. “Can that be okay for right now?”

Betty nodded and hugged him back. She loved her relationship with Archie. It was easy, comforting and understanding. Archie knew when to stop pushing and was fine being quiet in her company.

“So you had a good time?” He asked again placing a kiss on her head.

“Yeah, I’ve always had a crush on him but you know, I keep all that stuff inside.” They parted and smiled at each other. “Night, Arch.” She started to walk away before she stopped and looked back at the redhead who was climbing the steps up to his porch. “Arch?”

He turned. “Yeah.”

“Did you ever have a crush on Jughead?” She asked.

He grinned. “Girl, who didn’t?” He turned and disappeared into his home.

Betty grinned and did the same.

[diinofayce]

Like A Whisper In The Night - 7

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC | Word Count: 4,904 | Warnings: Swearing, drinking, more swearing | Songs: After Midnight & Whiskey Fever by Dorothy | GIF: Dorothy Martin from Dorothy | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Layne sat next to Bucky in a black armored car in the parking lot of First Avenue in downtown Minneapolis. She looked out the window at the black painted building a let out a shaky breath, smiling softly when she felt Bucky’s metal fingers trace along the knuckles of her hand in comfort. The bricks were covered in silver painted stars, the names of performers who graced the iconic stage written in big black letters in the stars. One large golden star stood out from the rest, PRINCE written in the middle and purple flowers taped to the wall, a candle sat undisturbed on the ground below it.

It had taken Layne two days to call in all her favours and make a solid mission plan before they could come out. Clint, Natasha, and Steve were working security and bartending at The Myth fifteen minutes out of town. Wanda, Vision, and Loki were at The Pourhouse eight blocks down. Sam, Tony, and Bucky were with Layne at First Avenue. Marcus, the owner of First Avenue and Seventh Street Entrance, called for a big price when Layne called him up. They had a night with no band and a Dorothy reunion would sell out the venue. It didn’t matter that she said that her employer, Tony Stark, was the VIP; Marcus was a man who always got what he wanted. This forced Layne to bite the bullet and call up the best friend and bandmate that she abandoned without a word. Layne did a lot of apologizing, a lot of crying, and then spent a whole three extra hours catching up with her guitarist like they had been speaking every day since Layne left. The band agreed to get back together for the show and First Avenue indeed sold out, causing Marcus to close Seventh Street so that he could have enough staff on First Avenue.

And that’s what puts us in this dingy parking lot that was already housing a large beat-up red pickup truck that had the tailgate open and amps ready to be brought in. “Those idiots are going to get their shit stolen like last year,” Layne grumbled unlocking her door and stepping unceremoniously into the freezing Minnesota wind. Despite it being almost March the city was still frigid, icy, and blanketed in a thick layer of snow.

“At least it’s cleaner than New York,” Layne heard Sam say from his and Tony’s car behind her. “About as dreary, though,” Bucky replied. “Who the fuck uses the word ‘dreary’ in real life?” Sam shot back.

Their bantering was lost on Layne as she stood staring at the open doorway to the back of the club. A woman in her mid-forties came stomping outside. Bucky and Sam silenced instantly and Tony lowered his sunglasses to get a better look at her. She was all tits and ass in a tiny black tank top with a Harley Davidson leather coat, ripped up black skinny jeans and high heeled motorcycle boots. Her red hair rivaled Natasha’s and was swept back into a red bandanna. Her persona oozed power and control and dared everyone in her path to fuck with her, no seriously, please fuck with her.

“Now, I know that trash bag, Layne Hardin, did not just step out of some foreign piece of shit that costs more than my house.” The bark that came from the woman was unabashedly northern Minnesota.

“Well, I know only one gutter hoe that drives some rusted piece of shit Chevy and leaves fifteen hundred dollars worth of equipment out in the open to get stolen. Must be fucking Susanna Sweet.” Layne called back, hands on her hips, hair falling down over one shoulder.

Susanna took her aviator sunglasses off and stared Layne down sternly before her face broke into a large smile, a jovial laugh ripping out of her. “Girl, get your skinny white ass over here.” Layne ran at Susanna and jumped into her arms.

The three men just looked at each other with wide eyes full of concern and confusion. Tony stepped forward, straightening the suit jacket he was wearing over his vintage AC/DC shirt, which Layne had already threatened to steal.

“Um, yeah, hi. Excuse me? What’s happening here?” Tony asked pointing between the two ladies.

Layne giggled as Sue put her back down on the ground. “This, gentlemen, is Minnesota’s, no the entire fucking tri state area’s, best and most in-demand guitarist. Ms. Susanna Sweet. She’ll fuck you up,” Layne added, her face going very serious. “Suzu, this is Bucky, Sam, and Tony.”

“Girl, you flatter me. And still curse with such a wonderful eloquence and fluidity, only good thing to come out of you being a Navy brat. Now grab your shit and help unload the truck,” the biker babe laughed and grabbed a large Marshall stack amp.

“You’re a Navy brat?” Bucky asked, him and Sam looking at her with mild disgust. Layne sneered at the Army boys and stuck her tongue out.

“Does it make you like me less? Honestly, the Army ego coming out of the three of you could choke a horse. Can we least agree that at least I’m not Air Force and get some fucking help with heavy shit?” Layne scoffed. The boys looked at each other and shrugged in agreement before going over to the truck to help with the cabs and amps.

Layne grabbed her guitar case and a garment bag from the car and led the boys into the venue. Sue caught up to her and threaded her arm into Layne’s. Layne didn’t know if she was ready for this and she knew she had to keep herself toned down if she wanted to keep some semblance of professionalism after this was said and done, but this Minnesota air brought a lot back for her.

“So, Ms. Sweet, you were in the Army?” Sam asked sidling up to the two of them.

Sue smirked. “Mm, are you offering to buy me a drink and swap war stories?” 

~*~

There was a half an hour before doors open and the stage was all set up and sound tested. Layne had introduced her boys to Cass and Taylor, her bassist and drummer. Cass was a tiny pixie of a thing, barely scraping over five feet and had a shock of short purple hair. She was decked out a red leather dress with black knee high, fur lined Demonia’s to give herself an extra six inches. Taylor was taller and stockier, she had well defined muscles from constant drumming as she worked as studio drummer now for a living and filled in with different bands as needed. She always dressed simple for shows since it got hot and she was behind a kit, she wore one of their old band tank tops and a pair a black biker shorts under a black kilt with white Converses, her thick blond hair was up in pig tails.

Everyone was milling around the main center bar when Layne approached, wearing an ostentatious tan faux fur coat that brushed around her knees, it was clasped shut so you could only see the torn fishnet stockings and blood red Doc Martins. Her makeup was her traditional over smoked eye and bright red lips and her hair was curled and coiffed with probably an entire can of hair spray.

“Well, that’s a look, rock star,” Sam said staring down his nose at her. Layne rolled her eyes and waved at Dave, the bartender.

“We keep Layne around for the tight ass and sex hair,” Sue joked handing out shots of whiskey as Dave passed them to her.

“No drinking on the job, Hardin,” Tony started and tried to take the shot from her only to have three Minnesota ladies block his hand.

“No, no, no. You do not get to stop this train wreck, this train wreck gets us paid. It’s a sold out show and besides, we bought you one too.” Cass waved a finger at Tony before presenting him with his shot. Layne winced at the multiple accounts of being called a train wreck, but let it go. Taylor raised her shot and was met with shots from the other girls. The boys shared That Look again before shrugging and raising their glasses up as well.

“SKOL!” Taylor called slamming her shot on the bar before tilting it back down her throat. The girls mimicked followed by three very confused boys.

“What job are you working that you can’t fucking drink at? Sounds like piss,” Taylor cussed tapping the bar for a refill. Dave obliged and the girl pounded that shot as well.

“I am…working in the genetics lab for Mr. Stark,” Layne supplied carefully. Layne wasn’t ready to tell her friends that she was an Avenger. She didn’t want to let these two lives leak together, they were oil and water and they needed to always be separate.

“Fucking told you she’d lie about it. Ah, well.” The blond drummer deflated. Layne looked at her girls sadly as Cass and Susanna both frowned at Layne.

Susanna shook her head placed her elbow’s on Layne’s shoulders and her chin on top of her head. “Doors open soon. Let’s get backstage and look at that notebook of yours. Plus you need to tell me which one of these three you’re sleeping with, because I know it’s one of them.”

Bucky choked on his water and Sam and Tony gave him a reproachful look. Sue, Taylor and Cass headed towards the back snickering to themselves.

Layne sighed and dropped her elbows on the bar top. Dave handed her a 1.75 of Jack, as per normal, and Layne smiled tersely. Pulling a silver Sharpie out of the top of her boot she scrawled her name across the front and stuck the Sharpie back in place.

“Gonna stay level up there, kid?” Tony asked suddenly clapping her on the shoulder.

Layne smirked and caught Bucky’s eyes. She wanted to make sure he heard her. “Oh, this isn’t for me. You’re in for quite a show boys. And Bucky, you better be damn good on that front line because you’re going to have a rough ride.” Layne moved to head to the backstage, catching the flush on Bucky’s cheeks and smirking, but Tony kept a hold of her shoulder. He pulled a wooden box about the size of his palm out of his inner suit pocket.

“Stark, I’m flattered. But it’s not me, it’s you,” Layne joked holding her hand up in a stop motion.

“Ha. Ha. You’re adorable. Here,” he opened the box and inside were two silver bangles about an inch thick. He pulled them out and clasped them around her wrists. “So, ideally, these are grounders. They should let you half project, again ideally. We haven’t had time to test them obviously. It should be able to let you still see auras, but you wont be leaving your body. Which also means you can’t actually project into someone else, so you’ll need to hit this button to deactivate them. But you’ll still hit the dirt. I don’t know what to do about that.” Tony looked at you anxiously as you admired the simple bands on your wrists, rotating your hands so they glinted in the overhead lights.

“Thank you, Tony. They’re perfect. They’ll work perfect on the stage, too.” Layne reached over and gave Tony a peck on the cheek. She nodded to the boys and took off after her girls.

~*~

There was nothing between Bucky and 800 people except for waist high metal fence that wasn’t even latched to the floor. It was those grates and two other security guards that were separating the screaming fans and the stage. Bucky’s eyes flashed around to all the exits and doors and bars anxiously. There were too many people and he had no clue who he was looking for in the sea of bobbing heads and crashing shoulders. There weren’t enough exits to not make a dangerous situation even worse in case of a stampede. His tongue flicked out over his lips and he was slightly reassured by Redwing hovering above everyone - not that he would ever admit that to Sam. His blue eyes cast up to the balcony where Tony sat on the long leather couch with a glass of amber liquid, a few girls in tiny dresses, and one of the house security guards (purely for appearances at this point).

The two guys on either side of him had warned Bucky of Layne’s shows. They told him of the two times the show got so crazy they had to call half of the Minneapolis police department because the party spilled into the streets after the show. They warned him about how she liked to jump into the crowd. They warned him that she could drink like a fish, puke off stage during a guitar solo, then come back and keep drinking. All the bartenders called her Puke’N’Rally with a fondness and they had two cases of Jack Daniels tucked up off stage for the girls and the crowd. They warned him that Layne would probably mess with him, she messed with all the stage security, but the new guys always got it rough.

Bucky tried to reassure the men that Layne wasn’t drinking because this was for a Stark work event, but they just gave each other a look that Bucky could tell meant they didn’t believe him.

“Lesser men than Tony Stark have tried to get that girl to quit drinking,” the large black man to his left, Darren, said. “I’ve carried that girl out into a cab more times than I can count.”

“Well, she’s fucking sad and just a kid,” said the guy to his right, Mike. The man was all long grizzled silver hair and beard and sounded permanently stoned. “Like, you can hear it in her music. No one taught her how to cope. I’ve been there, man.”

Bucky looked between the two men who knew her so much better than he did, then any of the Avengers did. He felt tense in his chest, was she just placated him back in the kitchen when she promised she would moderate herself? And Bucky understood that she wanted to hit the pause button on whatever they were doing, but even with the plane ride to Minnesota and in the car to the venue she had barely said two words to him. He knew what it was like to be trapped in your own head and he probably wasn’t the shining example of healthy coping, but anything was healthier than what she was doing. He found himself extremely worried that she didn’t care enough about how much she was hurting herself.

The opening band was another local three piece girl band called Kloud. They sounded fast and angry, Sam told Bucky through the ear piece that it was called punk and that they were pretty good. He wasn’t a fan, he definitely preferred the more blusey stuff. He peeked over his left shoulder and saw Layne standing off to the side stage with the rest of her band going over something in a notebook. The last of the stage hands finished setting Dorothy’s instruments and the lights lowered in the room. The crowd started going nuts, they surged forward and Bucky placed his foot against the bottom of his rail to keep it place.

Cass, Susanna, and Taylor strutted out onto the stage, fists in the air, and took up their instruments. Cass hits the first chord on her bass and the note shakes the entire building. She picks a beat, a steady dum-dum-dum, and Taylor follows in march behind on the bass drum. Its to that beat that Bucky’s ears pick up the stomp of Layne’s gait onto the stage, he sees Sam’s eyebrow raise on the second floor and takes a peek over his shoulder. Bucky’s heart stutters in his chest as he took in the sight of Layne’s lithe form being hugged by a black silk and lace negligee under her billowing fur coat. It ended maybe inches below her ass, the small straps barely holding up the swell of her breasts. A black velvet choker wrapped around her neck, a flat black stone nestled in the soft of her throat.

Her brown eyes cast around the crowd and into the balcony - finding both Sam and Tony, a small smirk gracing her face before she punched her fist into the air. “Minne-fucking-apolis!” She called and the crowd just roared triumphantly. She poured a few shots out of her bottle of Jack into little plastic cups and carried them to the front of the stage, standing behind the security guard to Bucky’s left.

“How is everyone feeling tonight?” The crowd roared back. “Oh no, that doesn’t sound good enough. Let Momma make it better my wild ones.” Layne carefully stepped on the guard’s shoulder and he held onto her ankle as she reached forward and handed out the shots. The fans who got them cheered and slammed them down. Bucky tried to hold down the acidic taste of jealousy that burned in his stomach as he watched Darren’s large hand wrap around her shin. It was done so casually that Bucky knew that wasn’t the first time those hands had been there. “That’s better! I want you bitches clapping!” Layne pushed gracefully off of Darren’s shoulder, her fingernails dragging slowly over his cheek and made her way back to the center of the stage, sliding her microphone in it’s stand.

“Oh, Set me on fire Oh, Kerosene eyes Oh, Lookin’ right through me Sellin’ my soul for one night”

She spread her arms out to the side, baring herself wide for everyone in that venue. Every time Layne opened her mouth it was like Bucky could hear further into her soul.

~*~

Layne missed this, being surrounded by her girls and the music and the screaming crowd. She would often sit back at Avengers Tower and wonder what her life would be if she had signed that record deal instead of agreeing to keep the world safe. If she hadn’t let her parents break her spirit, she really thought she could have been something.

Layne grabbed her bottle and ripped her microphone from the stand. Walking to the front of the stage she fell to her knees behind Bucky and carded her fingers through his hair. She felt him stiffen slightly and turn his head to look back at her with a warning glare. She winked and licked her lips at him.

“Oh, Doin’ me dirty Oh, Tellin’ me lies Oh, You are not worthy Tellin’ myself it’s the last time”

Layne flung one leg over Bucky’s shoulder, hooking him at the knee and pushed her other foot off the front of the stage so he’d lean forward. He held her leg close to his chest and gave her a furious look as she held her bottle out to pour the amber liquid into the mouths of the people on the other side of the barricades.

“Cause nothing good comes after midnight Ain’t no good love come from pain Nothing good comes after midnight When you play the Devil’s game Oh, after midnight.”

Layne pulled back from the fans and Bucky took that as his sign to help her back onto the stage. Layne leaned down, her hair creating a curtain between them and the rest of the venue, and brushed her lips across his cheek. Layne straightened and pumped her fist in beat with the drums and guitar. “Hands in the fucking air!” Layne clapped along to the beat, getting the whole venue into her motions.  

“Susanna Sweet, everyone,” she called out, and the crowd cheered as Susanna stepped forward - her black Les Paul with lime green cobwebs shining in the stage lights. Layne stepped back and sat down on the drum stand, setting down her bottle of Jack and grabbing a bottle of water. Sweat was running in rivulets down her neck and into her cleavage already. She looked down at the bangles on her wrists and made sure they were turned on before taking a deep breath and feeling herself start to float.

It felt like there were chains binding her consciousness to her body, but she could see everyone’s auras like if she was separated. She could feel her head turn as she scanned the crowd, counting the yellow auras of enhanced individuals. There were more than she expected, at least forty that she could see on the main floor and about twenty up on the balconies. Layne settled back into herself, blinking slowly as her vision readjusted just in time for the guitar solo to end. She strutted back across the stage finishing the song and sending hand signals to Tony and Sam about her count.

The song ended and the crowd cheered. Layne gave a brilliant smile and motioned up at RedWing hovering above everyone. “Everyone smile for the cute drone. You can buy the DVD of this performance next month on our Facebook page.” Layne winked up at Sam as he sent RedWing down around the crowd taking facial scans of everyone that looked into it’s camera. All the intel was being sent direction to Agent Hill back at the compound.

The next song started and Layne switched back from undercover agent to performer. Halfway through the show she shed her coat entirely, she definitely noticed Bucky keeping a sharper eye on her when she got close to the other security or stretched over to the crowd. At one point she got tired of his side looks and poured half a bottle of Jack over his front, making the ladies in the audience hoot and holler as his black shirt stuck to his chiseled form. He growled at her angrily and snatched the bottle from her hand, lobbing it into the crowd who cheered and the other security guards looked at him with “I told you so” stares. Layne had simply cracked a new one from the box next to the drum stand. It was common for them to go through at least ten bottles a show.

During the solos Layne would take the opportunity to recount auras. She had noticed a definite five were missing, but at a whiskey peddling rock show that could be for any reason. It wasn’t until towards the end of the night that she noticed a yellow aura and a blue aura towards the back in the shadows pull another yellow aura towards them and fight them towards the front door. Layne sent a quick signal to Tony and Sam, who immediately went on the move. Layne moved to Susanna and whispered in her ear that she had to go do work. Susanna looked into Layne’s eyes for a moment before nodding and starting the opening to their traditional show ender.

The crowd started to dance and clap to the beat. “Whiskey in the air, Minnesota. You know how we end this shit!” Layne nodded at Bucky who looked back at her with steely blue eyes. She knew that either Tony or Sam informed him of the problem over the comlink, but he didn’t know how he was going to get Layne off stage to go after them. Layne gritted her teeth, having left that part out of debriefing Bucky because she knew he would argue her on it.  

Cracking a new bottle of whiskey, she signaled for the security guard to Bucky’s left. Darren had been stage security at all of their shows, he knew what was about to happen. He held his hands palms up for her as she carefully stepped onto his shoulders, holding one of his hands gently as she stepped down onto the barrier. Bucky was about ready to rip her back towards the stage but she just signaled him with her chin to meet her on the other side of the main floor. He glared at her and licked his lips before darting out to the side stage.

“Oh, mama, don’t you leave me alone No tellin’ what I’ll do on my own Oh, mama, there’s a pit in my soul So deep I gotta fill it up now, fill it up now FILL IT UP NOW!”

Layne stepped carefully onto the shoulders of the man on the other side of the barrier, she poured a shot from her bottle into his mouth as she stepped to the man behind him.

“Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey fever You’re my evil, you’re my evil Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey fever You’re my evil, you’re my evil love”

Layne made her way across the room on the shoulders of the crowd, pouring shots down their throats as she went. The crowd crammed together on her path, she could see Bucky’s frustrated blue eyes at the end. His gloved fingers were twitched for the weapons he kept hidden on his person, ready to give chase with the rest of them.

“Whoah, mama, can’t you say that I’m wrong Bad habits been bustin’ my bones Hell, mama’s gonna swallow me whole God knows I gotta fill it up now, fill it up now FILL IT UP NOW!”

Layne made it to the end and hopped down into Bucky’s arms, smiling as his whiskey damp shirt smacked into her sweat drenched face. “Up,” she whispered to Bucky who rolled his eyes and lifted her up. “Thank you Minnesota. I love you so much! Make sure you all get a beer and put it on Tony Stark’s tab!” Bucky set her down and Layne left her microphone with Dave behind the bar. She grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him out to the door with the crowd chanting ‘Dorothy’ as they ran out into the cold Minneapolis air.

Bucky handed Layne her com and she placed it in her ear. “Whisper online,” she said, her eyes darting around the dark night looking for a sign of Stark or Wilson flying around.

“Hey, rock star! That was quite a show. We’ve got tail on a white laundromat delivery van. We watched two males shove a woman inside. They’re approaching Hennepin Street,” Wilson said and Layne turned in the direction of the corresponding street.

“This way,” Layne said breathlessly and took off at a run, Bucky close on her heels. “Get team Pourhouse out here. They’re on Hennepin, might catch them faster.”

“Layne, you have no weapons or armor. You should go back to the venue,” Bucky yelled, watching as her slip slid up to just underneath her butt. He flushed crimson and tried not to focus on where he was running.

“Maybe don’t stare at my ass, Barnes, and it wouldn’t be a problem,” Layne looked at him over her shoulder briefly with a wicked look in her eyes. She reached up to the choker on her neck and pressed the black gem, a ripple passed over her body as her black cat suit spread out down her arms, torso, and legs.

“Loki already hooked me up,” Layne laughed as she took a sharp turn into an alley and hopped onto the grating of a parking garage, pulling herself up to the third level and running to the side that faced Hennepin. Bucky came to pause next to her and looked down the road, ignoring the fact that she was panting heavily next to him clearly out of breath from sprinting. 

“Hey, thanks for keeping your word on the whole drinking thing. Granted, you could have not poured it all out over me,” Bucky said softly, pulling his Glock out of it’s holster. 

Layne looked at him sideways for a minute while pulling her long dark hair up in a ponytail. “Um, well, I told you I don’t drink on missions. I mean, that one shot excluded. Did you think I was lying to you?” 

Bucky shook his head, his brown hair tied into a loose knot on the back of his neck. “No. I mean, I had heard you’ve tried to stop in the past and it not working out but, I mean, I…don’t…know” Bucky’s words died in his throat as he watched realization dawn on Layne’s face. She clicked her tongue and nodded, a smile of disbelief on her face.

“Here I was thinking you were going to be something different,” Layne said harshly, more to herself than to Bucky. The white van came into view, stopping at a red light below them. Without giving Bucky a heads up she pushed from the shadows of the parking ramp and landed on the roof of the van, rolling to lessen the impact and hopping off just as she felt the van lurch with a crash signaling Bucky’s landing on the hood. 

Layne wrenched the back doors open and eight sobbing girls came into view. They were all wearing bar clothes, makeup smeared across their faces from their tears. Their hands and feet were bound and a cloth was tied in their mouths. She could hear the sounds of running footsteps behind her and the jets from Tony and Sam.   

A man was in the back with the girls, his brown hair shaved short on the sides contrasting with long thick curls on the top, his brown eyes the same shade as Layne’s. He stood quickly and rushed at Layne, shoving her back into the ground. He smirked at her as she stared up at him with shock. 

“Danny?” she whispered before her youngest brother vaulted off of her and took off into the alleys. 

NEXT CHAPTER

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[weekendwarriorblog]

The Weekend Warrior Home and Quibi Edition July 17, 2020: WE ARE FREESTYLE LOVE SUPREME, DIRT MUSIC, THE PAINTED BIRD and More!

Apologies for being a day late with this week’s column... things came up. 

Since this is a relatively quieter week, at least compared to last week,  I want to talk about something that’s been getting a lot of ridicule and unwarranted hatred in recent months, and that is something called Quibi, and so…

IN PRAISE OF QUIBI

You know, I’ve heard a lot of shit-talking about Quibi for one reason or another.  I think it’s mostly the “too cool for school” #FilmTwitter kids, who haven’t even bothered to watch half the programming and content on the streaming platform – which has absolutely nothing to do with movies, mind you -- so they honestly have no fucking idea what they’re talking about. Sure, I understand the trepidation… short programs that you watch on your phone? Why would anyone get behind that? I mean, everything needs to be a 3 ½ hour Martin Scorsese movie that needs to be seen on the biggest screen possible, right?

Well, no. You see, CEO Jeffrey Katzenberg saw how successful YouTube was with their model – maybe not necessarily their original programming – and he figured he could do them one better. Instead of following the normal TV model of 22 to 60 minutes episodes, he decided to make every episode under 10 minutes. Maybe this seems weird to many people but if you watch any commercial network television, that’s actually the norm. All programs are broken up into smaller increments to allow for the commercials, and the smart shows time those breaks with mini-cliffhangers that makes the viewer want to return after the commercial break rather than switching the station. For the comedies and dramas, it just means you can watch as many episodes as you want without investing the hours involved with binging most shows. You can watch a lot of a series in an hour or more, and you’ll know right away if it’s for you. (There are some I really didn’t like at all such as Dummy and a few others.)

The big problem is that we really shouldn’t be looking at Quibi as an attempted competitor to Netflix, Hulu or any of the other streaming services. Quibi isn’t meant to be for watching movies or to be watched on the biggest screen possible. It’s quick, short bytes of entertainment similar to what you might normally watch on YouTube, but with actual programming. It’s a service geared towards people who don’t have 8 hours a day to binge-watch shows and maybe just want something to watch on a 5 or 10-minute break from sitting at their computers working. (That’s another good reason why having to be viewed on a phone/tablet makes it a good way to take a break from the computer.)

I totally understand some of the trepidation based on the early programming, because I haven’t found much in the narrative realm that has jumped out at me. I like Will Forge and Caitlyn Olsen’s Flipped, since it stars two of the funniest people on television, and the second story on Sam Raimi’s United States of Horror was far better than the first one. I also found a great guilty pleasure in shows like Chrissy’s Court and Dishmantled, each which put a spin on favorite TV genres, the court and cooking shows, both which are hilarious. I binged both of those series, which are about 10 to 12 episodes in a little over an hour, and Reno 911 and Jason Reitman’s The Princess Bride adaptation have been some great recent additions to the service.

The reason why you should be watching Quibi is for the daily programming, which is every bit on par with anything currently on television, mainly because Quibi has joined forces with some of the best news sources and content creators. For instance, the BBC show, Around the World with host Ben Bland, takes all of the great news from the BBC and puts together a daily six-minute “montage” of the most important news from outside the United States. There’s also NBC’s The Report, which offers two episodes on weekdays – the Morning and Evening Report – and two Weekend Reports, and it’s solid news reporting but also nothing that outlasts its welcome like the normal 24-hour news.

Then there’s so much other great programming, including Answered by Vox with host Cleo Abram, where you can learn about so many relevant and timely topics, and it’s become a particularly beneficial during the COVID pandemic. I have to admit that when I first started watching this, I was kind of amused by Abram’s twitchy interviews where she seemed unsure of herself, but over the course of the last couple months, her bubbly personality has really come out, as she’s tackled topics of special interest to herself. Quibi has rightfully been promoting the heck out of the show by advertising it on other shows. I also am impressed by the topics Shan Boodram covers on Sexology, an extremely candid and honest discussion of what some might consider taboo topics.

Similarly wonderful to watch every day is EW’s Last Night Late Night with Heather Gardner, which sums up the previous night’s late night shows – the best jokes, the best bits from the interviews, performances etc. – and there’s also Rotten Tomatoes’ Fresh Daily with Maude Garrett, which gives you a look at the best things to watch on streaming and digital on a day-to-day basis. (For full transparency, a person I greatly respect and one of the few I genuinely like in the industry, Mr. Simon Thompson, writes and produces the show.)  Video game fans may enjoy Polygon’s Speed Run, although it recently changed format and is now three days a week, rather than five, and each episode is now on one subject rather than the segment format previously used. I hope this isn’t a sign of Quibi or these companies trying to save costs because there’s some nervous about the platform lasting.  

Personally, I love Quibi, and I didn’t even hesitate for a second to shell out the $5.30 a month (including tax), mainly for the daily programming. Honestly, I really hope that we’ll get more of Chrissy’s Court and Dishmantled, and I hope to eventually get to some of the shows I haven’t watched, as well. (I’ve had a few issues with streaming and buffering in the last week, which I hope Quibi will resolve, because it’s very frustrating to sit down for my daily watches and just get the spinning ball repeatedly.)

Anyway, let’s get to the movies… and is it possible that Hulu may be receiving the coveted “Featured Flick” two weeks in a row? Certainly looks like it. If you’re trying to figure out what to watch after watching Hamilton on Disney+ for the 20th time, how about going back to the very beginning?

Andrew Fried’s doc WE ARE FREESTYLE LOVE SUPREME (Hulu) looks back at how Wesleyan alum Thomas Kail and Anthony Veneziale put together the group of improvisational performers that would include one Lin-Manuel Miranda. I was lucky enough to know about Freestyle Love Supreme way back when they were starting out, since a good friend of mine managed the East Village club, Mo Pitkins, where the group frequently performed. I knew pretty early on how much talent Miranda had from seeing him perform. Make no mistake that this is not a movie only about Miranda, as it’s as much or more about Kail and Venziale’s efforts to keep the group’s shows happening while Miranda is pulled away to do In the Heights on Broadway, and then ultimately doing his magnum opus, Hamilton.  

For some reason, I thought this doc would mainly be about the idea of bringing Freestyle Love Supreme back for its limited stint on Broadway, but it goes all the way back to the beginning and how they met and came together, plus how they found new members to fill in for Miranda and Christopher Jackson when they went to Broadway.  Freestyle Love Supreme is a pretty amazing group because as the name implies, they’re a bunch of freestyle rappers who improvise every show based on things they get from the audience, but it also allows them to explore their own personal lives and histories and incorporate them into each show. I’m actually a little bummed I never got a chance to see it even though I’ve known about them since the early ‘00s. This doc might feel a little long even at under 90 minutes, but it’s worth sticking with since they’re such an interesting group and the combination of performances and interviews makes it a fine doc about these amazingly talented individuals and how the sum is bigger than the whole of the parts.

Another long-gestating project that has finally seen the light of day is the romantic drama DIRT MUSIC (Samuel Goldwyn), based on Tim Winton’s popular Australian novel that people have been trying to adapt since back when Heath Ledger was still alive. I believe Russell Crowe had been trying to adapt it, too. It stars Kelly Macdonald, who I’ve loved since her first appearance in Trainspotting and who I’m always hoping will find some of those great roles we see other actors her age getting. (Sorry, but Puzzle just wasn’t one of them.)  In Dirt Music, she plays Georgie, a woman living with fisherman Jim Buckridge (David Wenham), a widowed father with two sons, although they’re not married. When Georgie begins a relationship with troubled local musician Lu Fox (Garrett Hedlund), it causes problems within the tight-knit community, but instead of getting into a confrontation with Jim, Lu runs off.

I actually quite enjoyed this drama, partially because it marks the return of Gregor Jordan, an Australian filmmaker who has quite a few decent movies under his belt, including an earlier Ned Kelly movie. It is a little hard to figure out what is happening, partially from the accents but also from the decision to tell the story in a non-linear fashion that isn’t always apparent where each of the characters are in the story. Obviously, a major thing to pay attention to is how great Macdonald and Hedlund are in their roles in this possibly unlikely romance. You can totally see Ledger in the role of Lu, and the fact that Hedlund is so good should help you appreciate him more as an actor. Macdonald also still has this youthful energy despite being in her ‘40s, and that gives their relationship something akin to her relationship with McGregor in Trainspotting.

What really captured my attention was the gorgeous music by the Fox family, and I was even more  impressed to learn that the actors – Julia Stone, George Mason, Neill Maccoll, and yes, Garrett Hedlund – all performed their own vocals in the songs, which includes a gorgeous version of Tim Buckley’s “Song of the Siren” (famously covered by This Mortal Coil). Frankly, I’m most surprised by the fact that Hedlund had musical talent I never knew about, and you can combine that with the emotion he brings to Lu with very few words, and you have another example of why Hedlund just isn’t getting the credit as an actor he deserves. I really liked the way this story was unfolded and where it ended, and I hope we’ll see more great work like this from Jordan.

I was a little more tentative about Wetlands director David Wnendt’s THE SUNLIT NIGHT (Quiver Distribution), which was adapted by Rebecca Dinerstein from her own novel, but not only because it premiered at Sundance way back in early 2019. If you’ve been reading the past few months of columns, you’ll know that there are a lot of recurring themes of movies that play at Sundance, and this one stars Jenny Slate, who had such an impact at Sundance with the movie Obvious Child, which I really didn’t like.  Yeah, I’m not really a fan, even though I like her in smaller roles like her role in Gifted a few years back. In this one, Slate plays Frances, a New York artist, whose parents are about to break up and looking for a change, she accepts an internship with an artist in Northern Norway where the day lasts for months.  It’s a pretty obvious “fish-out-of-water” comedy premise like one we may normally see at Sundance, but it never really delivers on  

Probably my favorite part of the movie was seeing David Paymer as France’s father, mainly because we just don’t see Paymer in many movies these days, but Zack Galifianakis’ character, one of the Norwegians who has an affinity for Vikings, just doesn’t add very much to the story. While I liked the set-up for the movie and Slate is generally likeable in the lead role, the movie just isn’t funny enough to be deemed a comedy nor enough drama to have much of an emotional impact, and the romance between Slate and a local didn’t do much for me either. By the end of the movie, Sunlit Night had veered too far into the most obvious indie territory, so it ultimately fell short for me. I just wish Dinerstein had more (or anything) to say with this story, and I feel like Wnendt and his cast probably did the best they could with what they had to work with.

A movie that’s finally being released after playing a number of festivals last year is the Czech Republic’s 2019 Oscar selection, Václav Marhoul’s THE PAINTED BIRD (IFC Films), based on Jerzy Kosinski’s novel about a young Jewish boy navigating the landscape of WWII-era Eastern Europe all on his own, ending up in one horrifying situation after another.

While this is a beautifully-told story featuring equally beautiful and quite stark black and white cinematography, I can’t wholly recommend it to everyone, because that beautiful camerawork is used to depict some of the most horrible depravity and violence, all experienced by this young boy who just can’t seem to catch a break.

There is very little dialogue in a film that takes an episodic approach to following this young boy’s journey as he either watches horrifying things or is put through grueling torture and even rape as he’s handed and bartered from one adult to another. The “painted bird” of the title is a literal bird that’s painted to attract other birds that attack it, and it’s clearly meant as an analogy for the boy.

If you’ve watched any Czech films over the years, you’ll know that they’re generally pretty grim (they’re a grim people), and you’ll probably know fairly soon whether you want to sit through the entire 2 ¾ running time to see how this boy fares with everything he faces. (Note: A big deal has been made about some of the more horrifying violence in the movie, but honestly? Being in black and white, it isn’t that gory, and I’ve seen far, far worse. A lot of the worst of it is off-screen and your mind tends to fill in the blanks much like last year’s The Nightingale.)

Barely saying a single word, Petr Kotlár is able to carry the film, and it’s interesting when more familiar actors like Udo Kier, Harvey Keitel, Stellan Skarsgaard, and Barry Pepper are brought into this world Marhoul has created from Kosinski’s book. Like so many other movies right now, it’s a shame this won’t be seen on the big screen where you’re forced to really focus on what you’re watching without distractions.  

The Butterfly Effect writer/director Eric Bress’s latest horror film is GHOSTS OF WAR (Vertical) about a group of American soldiers -- including Brenton Thwaites, Sklar Astin and Theo Rossi -- who travelling across France during WWII when they come upon a French Chateau where they decide to hole up. That is, until they learn there’s a supernatural enemy that may be worse than the Nazis they’re hiding from.  

The premise for Bress’ latest venture into the supernatural is a fairly simple one, and it’s hard not to watch this movie and not think of the far superior Overlord from a few years back. As soon as the soldiers get to the estate, it’s pretty obvious (mainly from the title) where things are going to go from there, and unfortunately, the bland casting doesn’t do very much to elevate that simple premise, the weak writing, and none of it feels particularly scary.  If that general premise doesn’t seem very interesting to you, then Ghosts of War introduces a pretty out-there last act twist that’s either gonna be praised for changing things up or it will be condemned for being so out there. The problem is that the movie just hasn’t built enough good will to earn its twist, and viewers will probably just be even more annoyed by it.

Ghosts of War will be available On Demand, via Virtual Cinema Screenings and digitally after being on DirecTV for the past few weeks.

Down at New York’s Film Forum, you can rent Elizabeth Coffman and Mark doc Flannery (Film Forum), winner of the Library of Congress Lavine/Ken Burns Prize with its look at author Flannery O’Connor. The repertoryVirtual Cinema adds Jean-Luc Godard’s Made in the U.S.A. (1966) and Carl Theodor Dreyer’s Michael (1924), the latter part of the Forum’s “Pioneers of Queer Cinema” program.

Starting on Film at Lincoln Center’s Virtual Cinema this Friday is Koji Fukada’s Mayak (Andreevsky Flah Film Company/Anniko Films), while FilmLinc is also starting its annual Dance on Camera Festival, the 48th edition, although this time virtually.

Available via Film Movement’s Virtual Cinema is Emily Harris’ adaption of Joseph Sheridan le Fanu’s Gothic vampire novella, Carmilla, starring Hannah Rae as 15-year-old Lara who lives in isolation on her family’s country estate with her strict governess Miss Fontaine (Jessica Raine) until a carriage crash brings a mysterious girl into their lives.

Now we’re getting to more movies that I just didn’t find the time to see even though I had screeners for a couple of them, like the latest in Hulu’s popular monthly horror series, INTO THE DARK:  THE CURRENT OCCUPANT, which will hit the streamer this Friday. It’s directed by Julius Ramsay and written by D.C. speech writer Alston Ramsay, taking place in a psychiatric ward where a man trapped with no memory, played by Barry Watson, believes that he’s the President of the United States and the subject of a political conspiracy. No, it’s not a documentary.

Over on Netflix, there’s Catrin Einhorn and Leslye Davis’ doc Father Soldier Son, which follows a former platoon sergeant and his two sons over a decade after his return home from a serious injury in Afghanistan, showing the long-term effects of military service on a family.

Dan Wingate’s doc Kaye Ballard - The Show Goes On (Abramorama) will get a Virtual Cinema release this Friday. I actually am not familiar with the actress, singer and comedian but apparently, she’s had a career that has spanned eight decades, starting in the 40s, and her friends include Ann-Margret, Carol Burtnett, Carol Channing, my good pal Red Reed and more, all of whom are interviewed, along with Ballard.

Also out on Digital this week is Steve Ohi’s sci-fi horror comedy Useless Humans (Quiver Distribution) about a ruthless alien who crashes a 30th birthday party causing four friends to team up to save the world. Will Addison’s Easy Does It (Gravitas Ventures), stars Linda Hamilton, as well as Ben Matheny and Martin Martinez, the latter two as friends who want to escape their Mississippi hometown when they learn there’s a cache of hidden loot in California. Hamilton plays their hometown criminal matriarch “King George” who learns of the money and has her bounty hunter daughter (Susan Gordon) chase the friends down.

On Friday, New York’s Japan Society will kick off its annual “Japan Cuts” program of new and repertory Japanese cinema, and like most other festivals and series this year, it’s going on line, beginning with Shinichiro Ueda’s Special Actors (the Opening Night film), Fukushima 50 (the Centerpiece) and Labyrinth of Cinema, for $7.00 each, which is a pretty good deal. (There’s also a new competitive section called “Next Generation” which focuses on new Japanese talent.) And then for $99, you can get an all access pass to watch all 42 films in the festival, which includes a lot of movies you may never have a chance to see in the States otherwise. You can watch a playlist of trailers from the movies here. All 42 films will be available starting this Friday, so make sure to include this in your weekend plans.

In related news, the New York Asian Film Festival (which cancelled this year altogether) and the Korean Culture Center of New York are teaming once again for Korean Movie Night, this year doing them virtually with a new program called “A League Of Its Own,” which focuse on Hit Korean Baseball Movies, plus there’s a bunch of other Korean films you can watch (FOR FREE!) here until July 25.

Also, if you’re anywhere near some of the drive-ins taking part in Amazon’s summer movie program, you can catch “Movies To Make You Proud” Black Panther and Creed on Wednesday night.

Next week, more movies mostly not in theaters!

By the way, if you read this week’s column and have bothered to read this far down, feel free to drop me some thoughts at Edward dot Douglas at Gmail dot Com or drop me a note or tweet on Twitter. I love hearing from readers … honest!

[crypticcravings]

Memories Remain, Chapter 5

Prev Chapter << >> Next Chapter

Also on Ao3

Another day, another four emails from Nathalie about Gabriel HQ meetings.

Adrien was positive he'd made his stance clear, but that never stopped Nathalie from keeping him in the loop. Adrien set aside the catalogue she'd mailed him and skimmed her emails with little interest. Nothing new. Things were running fine. That’s all that mattered.

Adrien shut down his work email without checking the rest of the meeting minutes or bank statements that were cluttering his inbox. He wasn't about to deal with all of that.

This was supposed to be a good day for him. He was determined to keep it that way, and a good day did not involve looking over his father's assets.

Instead, he fed Plagg another round of cheese before approaching his closet.

He had just a few hours left before he went to meet Ladybug. He needed to get dressed. Adrien pushed his pair of thick rimmed glasses up his nose, forgoing contacts for the day. Typically, he didn't worry about his appearance, especially when meeting Ladybug. There was no point brushing his hair and wearing his best shirt when he'd just transform and be covered from head to toe in a magical leather cat suit. Besides, ever since he'd quit modeling, he hadn’t been as concerned with how well his shoes matched his belt.

This was different.

He was about to meet Ladybug.

Honest to god, real life Ladybug.

And on his life, he was not going to meet her in his coffee stained work shirt and a pair of loose fitting jeans. He was going to call back to the 18 year old Adrien Agreste who sold cologne on billboards wearing only the highest quality designer clothing.

He was going to have to go into his closet.

"It's been a while since I've seen you wear something that comes off a hanger," Plagg said as Adrien opened the double door walk in. "Getting all dressed up to see your love bug?" The kwami made a kissy face.

"She's not my love bug," Adrien quipped.

He flipped through the hangers, shifting through the pairs of designer jeans and pressed slacks. He laid out no less than five outfits, shuffled shirts around, considered his socks, then began pacing, much to Plagg's chagrin. The tiny pest flitted around complaining loudly the entire time.

Finally, Adrien settled on something to wear.

He donned a pair of tight fitting navy slacks, a soft, dark blue t-shirt, and a grey sports jacket.  Not too dressed up, but not too casual either. He shoved his feet into a pair of Doc Martins and pushed up the sleeves of his sports jacket. Of course, his father hadn't raised a slob. Adrien folded a handkerchief and placed it neatly into his breast pocket.

After spending a half hour ensuring his hair was absolutely perfect, it was just about time. He wound a large, heavy knit scarf around his neck and shoved his keys, phone, and wallet.

"Are you ready?" Adrien ran his fingers through his hair and shut the curtains.

"Are you asking me or yourself," Plagg asked.

He rolled his eyes. "Plagg, transform me."

Once he was officially Cat Noir, he snuck out the back window of his apartment. It was finally time.

Marinette was ready. At least, she kept telling herself she was.

She was glad, at least, that Cat Noir suggested meeting today instead. It gave her time to style her hair--curse her heavy Chinese locks that couldn't hold a curl to save her life--and do her makeup. She had been too nervous yesterday to take care of any of that. She'd gotten dressed in a daze, and had spent more time tearing her hair out with nervousness than she had considering what would happen when she actually had to drop the mask and face the actual boy she'd had feelings for for her entire young adult life.

But this morning, she'd woken up with a strange sense of clarity. She wasn't nervous any more. She wasn't worried. Everything was just…serene. Because she was meeting Cat Noir today.

So she put on a brightly colored outfit to contrast the dreary February weather. A navy blue skirt with pink butterflies, a pink, long sleeved shirt, a pair of yellow tights with polka dotted heels and a red knitted scarf. Once her hair was pulled back into twin buns, she checked her appearance in the mirror one last time before turning to Tikki.

"Are you ready for this," She asked her kwami, who was sitting on Marinette's chaise lounge.

"I'm ready if you are," the tiny red bug said.

"I'm definitely ready."

"You seem way more confident today."

Marinette smiled and looped her purse over her shoulder. "I feel better. I mean, no matter what happens, Cat Noir is my friend. He still wants to meet me, so that's a good thing, right? Whoever he is under the mask, we're still going to be friends."

"Do you think he's someone you know already?"

"I mean, a while ago I wondered if maybe he was someone in my class. After Chloe repeatedly got everyone in school akumatized, and he was always on the scene so quickly, I had to wonder. I doubt it, though."

"Well, I guess you're about to find out."

Marinette grinned the type of sappy grin of a school girl in love. "I guess you're right."

She put on her coat and a pair of earmuffs, then let Tikki fly into her purse. She stopped into the bakery downstairs for some macarons, because bringing cookies along almost always led to a good first impression--as long as she didn’t drop them all.

Once she was out of the bakery, she slipped the cookies into her purse and let Tikki out of her hiding place.

"Ok, Tikki, the coast is clear."

"Just say the word, Marinette."

It was finally time.

Thank goodness the school was empty. Marinette had to double check the principal's office, but thankfully Principal Damocles never outgrew his habit of taking Saturdays as a personal day. As long as there were no students on campus for activities--and Marinette hadn't noticed any--the coast was totally clear.

Now all that was left was to wait.

She wasn't sure which direction Cat Noir would be coming from. Would he walk through the front doors? Unlikely, since they were locked for the weekend. Which meant he was probably going to drop into the courtyard from the roof. So Ladybug picked a nice spot on the overhang above the library to sit and wait.

She looked down on the basketball court and wondered what life would have been like if she and Cat Noir actually had gone to college here together. Would they have had classes together? Would they have recognized each other? Marinette liked to think she wasn't so dense she wouldn't see her partner right in front of her. Then again, she could be totally wrong. It was completely possible that she did know him in her everyday life.

She would find out soon enough.

She wasn't waiting long before the cat dropped in. Always the show off, he flipped over the rooftop of the side corridor, caught himself on the second floor railing, then landed at the center of the basketball court below.

"You can't do anything normally, can you?" Ladybug stood on the overhang and tossed out her yoyo. It wrapped around a railing, and she swung herself down to the courtyard to stand before Cat Noir. "You're always doing something to show off."

"What can I say," the stupid tom cat smirked, "I needed one last chance to show you just how purrfect I am before my true identity sweeps you off your feet."

"Somehow I doubt that," Ladybug lied. She knew he was right. Just the thought of seeing him without his mask had her heart nearly pounding out of her chest.

"I guess we're about to see, aren't we?"

Cat Noir stood to his full height, a solid nine inches taller than she was. She was a little bit salty she hadn't actually opted for the small heel in her boots when she'd redesigned her suit last year. At least then he only would have had eight and a half inches on her.

Maybe it was the strange silence between them, but Ladybug noticed that Cat seemed almost nervous. It was a rare occurrence to see him like this, but she understood how he was feeling. If she hadn't used all of her nerves up yesterday, she'd probably be on edge too.

"I guess it's time, then," Ladybug suggested.

"Wait." Cat Noir held up a hand. "Can I have, like, one minute?"

"What, are you a scaredy cat?"

"No! Yes? Look, this is…it's a big deal, alright?"

Ladybug looked down at her hands clasped in front of her. "I know. It is. You're right."

"It's just--I've been wanting to know you for, like, ten years now. And now it's about to happen. And this is just a big deal, you know?" He covered his mouth with his hand.

"I've wanted to know, too," she murmured. "I mean, it's not like I never wanted to know."

"I know," he said. "It wasn't safe. But I'm glad it's happening now."

"Me, too."

Cat Noir took another deep breath before finally meeting her eyes. "Okay. Are you ready?"

"Are you asking me or yourself?"

He scowled. "My kwami asked me the same thing this morning."

Ladybug giggled. "Well, I'm ready when you are. How do you want to do this?"

"How about this," he put a hand on her shoulder, "You turn that way," he turned her to face the basketball hoop by the library. "And I'll face the other way. Then when we've detransformed, we can turn back around and see each other."

"So complicated," she teased.

Adrien turned to face the opposite basketball hoop. "Okay. I'm ready."

"Me, too."

Unable to help himself, and in need of some grounding, Cat Noir grabbed Ladybug's hand. She squeezed his in return. He gulped. "On three?"

He felt rather than saw her nod. "One," she counted.

"Two."

He squeezed her hand, and together they said, "three."

Each of them called off their transformation, and two bright lights shone in the college courtyard, one a brilliant pink, and the other electric green.

The lights faded, and suddenly Adrien was holding Ladybug's hand.

Barely a few seconds had passed, and Marinette was touching Cat Noir's skin with her skin.

In a few more seconds, they would be looking at each other's faces, unobstructed.

And suddenly it was all too much.

All of the anxiety Marinette hadn't felt the entire day slammed into her at once.

A fine sheen of sweat appeared across Adrien's brow.

Both of them considered running.

But neither of them moved. They stayed rooted in one spot, too terrified of seeing, and too afraid to leave.

It was a good fear, though, Marinette rationalized. It was excitement, anticipation, and the unknown. It wasn't a bad fear.

So she took another breath to steady herself. She should really start doing those deep breathing exercises her father pushed her to do so that she wasn't always gasping like a fish every time she got nervous. But that wasn't relevant right then.

"Should we turn around?" His voice sounded higher with nerves.

"Yeah, that would make sense, wouldn't it, kid?" The response definitely did not come from Marinette. Instead, she turned her head slightly to the right to see a floating, black, cat-like creature that must be Cat Noir's kwami.

"Plagg, if you don’t…"

"Oh, stop it with your empty threats, and just turn around already!"

"He's right, you know," Marinette said, "we should just do it. Like ripping off a bandaid. Get it over with. Not that there's anything to get over, but just…get it done."

"Yeah. Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool cool. Let's do this."

They squeezed each other's hand one last time. Marinette squeezed her eyes shut. She had no way of knowing, but behind her Adrien did the same. In sync, they released their hands and spun around towards each other.

"Oh would you open your eyes," Plagg complained.

"Give them some space, you pest," a small, high voice chided.

Marinette giggled. Leave it to her kwami to take control and try to deescalate the situation.

Feeling at ease after hearing her kwami's voice, Marinette felt brave. She squinted one of her eyes open, reminding herself that it was the same old Cat Noir, just without a mask. A glint of blonde caught her eye, giving her the courage to open her eyes fully.

Her breath caught in her throat. "Hey, I know you!"

The boy in front of her winced, and his eyes didn't open. "Yeah, I, um, thought you might…"

Of course she recognized him, Adrien thought, he was a model for most of his life. Why hadn't he thought to warn her about that?

"You're from the coffee shop!"

Huh?

"From the…coffee shop?" Adrien's muscles relaxed a bit.

"Yeah, you're my barista!"

"That's how you recognize me?" His voice was full of disbelief. "From the coffee shop?"

"Open your eyes, you silly cat!"

So he did. Slowly, and cautiously, but he opened his eyes.

What he saw nearly knocked him off his feet. He'd been right.

"You're the baker's daughter," he said, his voice filled with awe. "And I was right!"

Ladybug had a look of confusion on her face. "You were right?"

"I was right!" Adrien threw his arms around her waist and picked her up. He swung a very shocked Ladybug around in a circle, laughing all the while. "I was right!"

Marinette's hands went to Cat Noir's shoulders as she braced herself against the motion. "What do you mean, you were right?"

He finally stopped spinning, but he didn't put her down. "I was right! I've known since I was fourteen that if I ever met you in real life, I would recognize you, and I was right!" He finally placed her gently on the ground, hands resting gently at her waist. "That night you came into the coffee shop to work on your project, I knew you looked familiar. Everything about you was familiar, and I just, I had this feeling. And every time I saw you I kept feeling it, and here you are!"

Marinette's cheeks hurt from smiling so much, but she wasn't about to stop any time soon. "I guess you were right, then! And what do you mean, you thought I might recognize you? Conceited much?"

He groaned and bowed his head. "I'm not being conceited, I'm just used to being recognized. I, aha, I used to be a model."

"A model?" She deadpanned.

He took one hand off of her waist, just to rub the back of his neck. "Yeah…"

"Wait a minute," she said, taking a step back, "hold on, you were a model, weren't you? I recognize you now! I knew you looked familiar, but it's hard to tell when you wear those glasses, and your hair is so much shorter now! I used to see you in magazines all the time!"

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Maybe I shouldn't have pointed it out…"

She laughed. "No, no! It’s fine! Everything's fine."

"Are you sure you won't go all fan girl on me," he teased.

"Dude," she said, putting a hand on her hip, "I'm literally Ladybug. Not to brag, but I'm pretty used to the celebrity life by now." She flipped a strand of hair over her shoulder and struck a pose, earning her a hearty laugh from her partner.

"Well that's good to know." A glint of mischief flashed in his eyes, and Marinette marveled at the familiarity of the look, even without the mask. He bowed at the waist, taking her hand. "It's nice to formally meet you, my lady. Adrien Agreste, at your service."

Marinette tried to quell the butterflies in her stomach, but to no avail. "Pleasure to meet you, good sir. Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

Adrien righted himself. "I don't know about you, but I'm getting hungry. Would you care to join me for lunch, my lady?"

"That sounds lovely, chaton." She looped her arm in his. "And lucky for you, I used to go to this school. I know the back way out so that no one sees us sneaking out."

"You never cease to amaze with your impurressive tricks, Bug."

She began to lead him to the back of the school "What can I say, I've always told you I'm a genius."

"And so humble." He assessed her outfit. "And what are you, a fashion student? You're wearing, like, a hundred colors!"

"As a matter of fact, I am. Working towards a masters in design."

"Don't get me wrong, I love it. It reminds me of summer."

"Who dressed you today, Cat," she shot back, "you have on a big scarf like that, but no jacket? What happened to you, Monsieur Agreste?"

"It's almost 10C out. It's not even that cold!"

They bantered back and forth like that the entire way out, leaving their kwami to trail behind them, forgotten in the excitement.

They had a feeling that would become the norm from then on.

[cameronwjones]

20 Outstanding Examples of Experiential Marketing

When people think of event marketing, they think of one or two things. There are the conferences, tradeshows and sponsored exhibitions that call to mind people in business casual attire mingling around a showroom floor in-between sessions and networking breaks. And then there is something entirely different. Then there is driving an Aston Martin across a frozen in a way that would make James Bond blush. Then there’s escaping a cold dungeon in Castle Black to promote the next season of Game of Thrones. Then there’s experiential marketing.

So, what is experiential marketing?

Experiential marketing is all about direct engagement with consumers and creatively interacting with them in a memorable way. It’s also known as engagement marketing, live marketing or participation marketing, and is often lumped into event marketing—even if it’s a far-cry away from traditional conferences.

Though some experiential strategies involve live events as we typically think of them, others can be one-off installations that only last for a few hours. Whatever the format may be, experiential marketing has proven to boost event ROI and is a crucial strategy for marketing executives. To offer a better sense of how this tactic can make an impact, check out this list of 20 outstanding examples of experiential marketing.

Table of Contents

Volkswagen - Piano Staircase

LeanCuisine - #WeighThis

3D Oreos

Smirnoff Comic Book Party 

HBO Escape Rooms

Gatorade Combine

VICE + Delta Launchpad Events

Jet Blue - The Ultimate Icebreaker

Zappos: Google Cupcake Ambush

Stratos - Red Bull

Aston Martin On Ice

Sensodyne's Great Sensitivity Test

Doc McStuffin's Check Up

Google Impact Challenge: Bay Area

Delta - Stillness In Motion

Coca Cola - Small World Machines

Budweiser Beer Garage

American Express - 2014 US Open 

Misereor - Social Swipe

Gilmore Girls - Luke's Diner Pop-ups

  1) Volkswagen - Piano Staircase

Photo Source: KJ Vogelius

Though known for being a car company, Volkswagen has been known for extending their brand beyond the automotive industry. One way they were able to do so was by creating a concept called “the fun theory” in which they attempt to pivot people’s behavior by adding an element of fun. For this experiential marketing example, the Volkswagen team cleverly created “piano” stairs in a subway stop in Germany, right next to the escalator. This led commuters to choose the stairs, playing their own tunes as they went up and down each step. As a result, 66% more people chose the stairs as opposed to the escalator.

On the surface, it may seem very odd for a car company to use musical steps as a marketing tactic. However, the reason this experiential strategy worked so well was because it resonated with a simple human emotion: having fun. When a company is able to associate their brand with an emotion as pure as fun, they’ve already won over the customer.

Main takeaway: The experiential strategy does not always have to involve the product. As long as the result is a powerfully positive brand association, the strategy is worth it every time.

back to top 2) Lean Cuisine: #WeighThis  

Photo source: EventMarketer.com

“If you’re going to weigh something, weigh what matters.” With this tagline, Lean Cuisine launched a heartwarming experiential event right in the middle of Grand Central Station in New York City. As a company that makes frozen dinners, Lean Cuisine’s messaging focuses mostly on weight loss. And although health is very important, consumers can easily feel overwhelmed with messaging that solely measures a person based on their outward appearance. Lean Cuisine was acutely aware of this and for this experiential campaign, chose to focus on a different type of “weight.”

For this campaign, the company set up an installation in the middle of Grand Central where a professional sign-painter would write down the way in which people wanted to “weigh” themselves. In other words, passersby were asked how they wanted to weigh themselves, separate from their physical weight. One woman wanted to be weighed by the amount of love she gave to her children. Another wanted her weight to be the work ethic she showed by returning to college. This feel-good campaign quickly went viral, garnering over 204 million impressions.

Main takeaway: Take your product out of the spotlight and put your customers front and center. A campaign focusing on the customer is always a win.

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3) 3D Oreos at SXSW

Photo source: Kalahari Meetings

As one of the most recognizable cookies in the world, Oreos carry much tradition in its brand. Thus, some people may have been hesitant to combine Oreos with cutting edge technology to create an experiential marketing experience. The clash between the classic Oreo and the unexplored capabilities of the 3D printer may not have made sense to some. But in the end, the combination worked beautifully.

During SXSW festival in 2014, Oreos’ parent company, Mondelez International, came up with the idea of combining Twitter, 3D printing, and the classic Oreo cookie all into one experiential strategy. People would be able to receive a uniquely flavored Oreo cookie (made by the 3D printer) that would be determined by which flavors were trending on Twitter during that very moment. Mondelez International described the experience as “deliciously hyper-personalized and customized snacks based on real-time data collection.” Putting a modern tech twist to a classic cookie was a great way to capture the attention of SXSW attendees.

Main Takeaway: Consider industries that your brand/product would normally be unassociated with and think of creative ways to join forces.  

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4) Smirnoff Comic Book Party 

Photo source: BizBash

Nothing is more experiential than a fully immersive entertainment experience. In other words, an awesome party. Smirnoff decided to create a comic book-themed industry party, inviting guests to entire a whole different world. The venue was decorated with full-sized graphic comic illustrations that stayed consistent with the overarching story. All brand ambassadors were dressed as characters from the illustrations, maintaining the fantasy throughout the night.

From beginning to end, the theme of the party stayed consistent and all attendees were immersed in a comic book universe. By keeping a red color scheme and having bartenders dress like fictional characters, Smirnoff created a rather memorable experience that really showed off their creativity as well as their brand.

Main Takeaway: Fully commit to the experiential strategy and make sure all other stakeholders have bought in as well. This ensures an immersive and memorable experience for consumers.

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5) HBO Escape Rooms at SXSW  

Photo source: The Verge

Escape The Room is a popular game in which a group of people are locked inside a particular room and must solve a set of clues in order to escape. Escape The Room has become incredibly popular over the last few years with different versions of itself spawning all across the United States. Riding this momentum, HBO created a mega Escape The Room experience at SXSW 2017, combining three separate rooms into one huge mystery. Each room was a recreated set of a popular HBO show. The three shows were Veep, Silicon Valley, and of course, Game of Thrones.

This experiential marketing tactic proved to be very successful because it forced attendees to be fully engaged. Given that HBO is known for its incredible shows, recreating the sets of these shows for fans to literally be a part of was an ingenious way of bringing these fictional narratives to life.

Main Takeaway: Be mindful of popular trends and think of ways to incorporate them into your experiential marketing strategy. Think about what’s resonating with your audience.

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6) Gatorade Combine  

Photo Source: Mountain Trout Photography

Gatorade is a brand that is closely associated with athletes. So, why not create an experience where consumers are transformed into athletes? At SXSW 2017, Gatorade offered a complete athletic experience in the form of a combine. A combine is an athletic examination that rookie athletes must go through before entering the professional league. Gatorade had the brilliant idea of creating a combine for consumers and testing their overall athletic abilities.

From Xbox Kinect to Sparta Science, Gatorade worked with with a number of other companies to make this possible. The combine consisted of several stations that tested various abilities such as reflexes, jumping ability, and flexibility. The results of each test were accurate and data-rich so that participants could actually take this knowledge and incorporate it into their lives, whether it be their workout routines our diets. This made consumers feel like true professional athletes which is what the Gatorade brand is all about.

Main Takeaway: In addition to being entertaining, experiential marketing is all the more impactful when it offers something of actual value to the consumer, whether it be a free product or newfound knowledge.

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7) VICE + Delta Launchpad Events

Photo source: Ad Age

Sometimes, there’s no need for fancy setups or high-tech machines to create a memorable experiential marketing event. Sometimes, a good partner and a solid vision is all you need. In need of tapping into the younger demographic of travelers, Delta Airlines partnered up with Vice media to create a series of entrepreneurial events on the topics of film, music, and food. These events took place in Los Angeles, New York City, and Seattle.

Each event was meant to teach aspiring entrepreneurs the ways they can find success in the fields of film, music, and food. Each city had its own focal topic and created events around that topic. By partnering with Vice, Delta was able to put together authentic events that resonated with their target demographic, thus bringing in a younger customer base.

Main Takeaway: Partnerships can be very impactful as long as they are strategic. Keep in mind your target audience and if applicable, brainstorm different event marketing partnerships that can help you bring in that demographic.

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8) JetBlue - The Ultimate Icebreaker

Photo source: Eventmarketer.com

In the dead of winter, there’s nothing more enticing than a trip to a warm and sunny destination. JetBlue knew this all too well and devised a clever way of promoting their new direct flights from New York to Palm Springs. They placed a number of summer accessories inside a six-foot by six-foot ice block and told New Yorkers that anything was up for grabs. People had to use whatever they had on their person to chip away at the ice to claim their prize. Prizes included summer accessories such beach attire, golf clubs, and, of course, free tickets to Palm Springs.

This activation was done in partnership with the Greater Palm Springs Convention & Visitors Bureau, helping to bring more tourism to the beautiful California city. A full social media campaign was executed in tandem with the experiential strategy and the result was great online buzz for JetBlue.

Main Takeaway: Consumers always love free things. Add another layer by gamifying the experience and creating a vibrant social media campaign around the experiential strategy.

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9) Zappos: Google Cupcake Ambush

Photo source: EMS Magazine

As shown by the above examples, partnerships can play a significant role in successful experiential campaigns. In some cases, even unintentional partnerships can have a meaningful impact. In 2015, Zappos thought of an extremely clever way to capitalize on a Google’s own experiential campaign. Google was giving out cupcakes to anyone who shared a picture using their photo app. Zappos brilliantly took advantage of the opportunity by setting up their own “free stuff” giveaway that required simple one-time donation—a cupcake. Zappos set up a mysterious cardboard box right next to Google’s cupcake truck and each time someone would offer their cupcake to the box, the box would return cool gear such as a watch, gloves, and of course, shoes.

Main Takeaway: As long as it is in good taste, think of ways to capitalize on other companies’ experiential campaigns to amplify the effects of your own campaign.

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10) “Stratos” - Red Bull

Photo source: Inquisitr

The Red Bull brand has long been associated with risk-taking and bold actions. Nothing could be riskier and bolder than setting the world record for the highest parachute jump. In 2012, Red Bull set to take this world record along with professional skydiver Felix Baumgartner. This stunt was a widely anticipated event that resulted in a resounding success. Felix broke the world record, dropping from an altitude of 128,000 feet.

This event was a prime example of how a brand not only fully embraced its identity but pushed it to its most extreme limits. The video of this record-breaking stunt has garnered over 3 million views and has been recognized as one of the greatest stunts in freefall history. There is a lot that can be learned from Red Bull’s bold endeavors.

Main Takeaway: Never be afraid to think big and push the boundaries. Experiential marketing is meant to leave an impression so constantly push yourself and test the limits of your creativity.

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11) Aston Martin On Ice

Photo Source: Autoweb.com

The Aston Martin has long been an iconic car, largely in part due to the legendary car chase scenes that in many James Bond movie. And if one had the chance to drive this luxury vehicle like a secret agent, why wouldn’t they?  In 2014, up in the Colorado Rockies, a handful of lucky Aston Martin owners were given the opportunity to drive different Aston atop of slick winter ice, skidding and sliding like Agent 007.

This test drive experience included a braking loop, a slalom course, skid pad, and a full race circuit. All parts of the course were supervised by professional drivers in an enclosed yet amply spacious setting. Although only a handful of Aston Martin owners were able to drive on the ice, the experience was shared across multiple social media channels and lifted Aston Martin’s brand visibility. The campaign proved so successful that they’ve continued to execute this experiential strategy every subsequent year.

Main Takeaway: By creating an exclusive experiential experience and following up with a strong social media campaign, the strategy can still reach a wide audience and achieve the lift in brand equity that you are aiming for.

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12) Sensodyne’s Great Sensitivity Test

Photo source: marketingbynaomi.blogspot.com

Sensodyne was looking to launch one of its newest products, the Sensodyne Complete Protection, in a way that was memorably delightful. Working together with the UK-based marketing agency Hotcow, Sensodyne decided to create an all-day experience in Potters Field Park in London that involved games, samples, and a public class on oral hygiene.

The setup in Potters Field consisted of three separate zones in which Londoners could engage in multiple experiences. Zone 1, The Sensitivity Zone, offered a ten minute dental sensitivity check-up by professional dentists. Participants could also win prizes by playing the “How Sensitive Are You?” buzzer game which consisted of guiding a metal ring through winding metal wires without having the two touch. Zone 2 was set up with a 13-foot tall molar, providing a great opportunity for attendees to take photos and share them on social media. And finally, Zone 3 was an attempt to break the Guinness world record for the world’s largest oral hygiene lesson. 232 people partook in the public lesson and everyone walked away with more knowledge on the subject of dental hygiene.

This extensive experiential strategy achieved 150 media mentions which resulted in a reach of over 4 million. Over 6,000 Sensodyne samples were distributed and 200 dental sensitivity checks were conducted. The strategy proved to be successful campaign that significantly increased brand awareness.

Main Takeaway: Remember that an experiential campaign can consist of multiple forms of engagement. Don’t restrict yourself to only one channel of interaction with consumers.

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13) Doc McStuffin’s Check Up

Photo source: Kelseyads.com

Doc McStuffin is a popular Disney Jr. television show that is geared towards children, ages 2-10. The show revolves around a 6 year old girl named Doc who heals toys from her own backyard clinic. The team at Disney Jr. decided to recreate this same scenario of healing toys for the millions of fans who watch the show every day, giving them the chance to be in Doc’s shoes.

This experiential campaign consisted of a nationwide tour of Doc McStuffin check-up clinics, travelling to 20 cities and setting up in retail stores such as Tesco’s, Smyths, and Toys R Us. Children were invited to conduct 10 minute check-ups on larger-than-life sized teddy bears who were in need of a diagnosis. While waiting their turn to play doctor, children were given Doc McStuffin toys to play with along with coloring books and puzzles. After each child completed their diagnosis, they were awarded a Doc McStuffins certificate and given a free “Doc Is In The House” door hanger. This creative campaign resulted in a 5.3% increase in propensity to purchase, interacting with over 7,700 children in the process. 87% said they would recommend Doc McStuffin to other parents.

Main Takeaway: For experiential campaigns that are targeting children, make sure you include as many opportunities to “play” as possible while also keeping in mind the parents’ experience as well. The goal should be to make both of them happy.

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14) Google Impact Challenge: Bay Area

Photo Source: Trisparker

Not all experiential campaigns are meant to sell something. In 2015, Google awarded $5.5 million dollars to 10 nonprofits that were dedicated to building a better community for the San Francisco Bay area. But before awarding the grants, Google decided to let the Bay area citizens have a say in which cause should be placed at the forefront of this campaign. After all, the ones who live in the community should have the loudest voice.

In order to have Bay Area members participate in the process, Google set up interactive posters all over San Francisco which served as public voting booths. Each poster displayed all 10 nonprofits and the main cause each was trying to address. Bay area community members simply had to press the one they thought was most important and the poster would record their vote.

In the end, the top six nonprofits each received a $500,000 grant and the remaining four were awarded $250,000 each. This campaign proved to be widely successful in not only driving financial support, but more importantly, driving awareness towards the local issues of the Bay Area community.

Main Takeaway: When applicable, try to include the voice and opinions of the audience you are trying to target. This creates a feeling of shared ownership and mutual engagement that results in a much more memorable experience.

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15) Delta’s Stillness In Motion

Photo Source: Travel Weekly

It is oftentimes too easy to be caught up in the hustle and bustle of the daily schedule, especially if you’re someone who travels often. Delta knew that many of their flyers frequently operated out of a hurried mindset and thus wanted to emphasize the importance of slowing down. This was a brilliant way for Delta to starkly contrast the hectic busyness that airlines are often associated with.

At the 2015 TED Conference, Delta created an incredibly intricate and immersive experience that encouraged individuals to actively practice stillness. Attendees were given an orb and upon entering a glass room, placed the orb on top of a small pedestal in front of their seat. They would then sit down and place their hands on top of biometric sensors that would sync the lights with the individual’s heart rate. The orb on the pedestal would then capture the lowest recorded heart rate, pulsing as a calming light.

After the soothing experience, attendees would be given the orb as a gift which served them as a reminder to slow down when they felt in a hurry. Attendees were encouraged to share their experience on social media and were provided photos to do so. The Stillness In Motion campaign resulted in 9.3 million Twitter impressions for Delta.

Main Takeaway: Be incredibly intentional with the emotion you want your consumers to walk away with after the experience.

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16) Coca-Cola: Small World Machines

Photo source: Design Taxi

Sometimes, experiential marketing can go way beyond the product. When executed thoughtfully, experiential campaigns can directly address and make an impact on global issues that have ongoing for years. In 2013, Coca-Cola set out to do just that by creating “small world machines” in both India and Pakistan. The hope was that through virtual interaction, the fractured relationship between the two countries could be set aside for a moment and genuine human connection can take place.

These high-tech vending machines were placed in two locations: Lahore, Pakistan and New Delhi, India. They were each set up inside bustling shopping malls where shoppers could pass by and partake in the experience. The vending machines had built-in cameras that allowed for face-to-face live interactions. The objective would be to work together with the person on the screen to achieve cooperative tasks such as mirroring each other’s movements and tracing images on the screen.

The campaign was incredibly successful and received many positive reactions from the press. But more importantly, it proved that even a soda company can make bold attempts in bringing about positive change through their marketing strategies.

Main Takeaway: Don’t be afraid to tackle larger issues through the campaign. Beyond elevating brand awareness, this will be a public affirmation of your company’s values, which is just as important.

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17) Anheuser Busch: Budweiser Beer Garage 

Photo source: Anheuser-busch

During 2016 SXSW, Anheuser Busch’s experiential campaign consisted of a full-on beer garage that involved all things Budweiser. From a comfortable lounge to a bar with Budweiser beer on tap, the garage was full of multiple sections that created an entertaining atmosphere. The most popular part of the beer garage was the 4-D immersive virtual experience that put participants through a tour of the Budweiser brewing plants.

Using Oculus VR headsets, participants were given a full tour of the brewing plant, engaging all five of their senses. When entering the refrigerator, cold air was blown into the room for a realistic effect. When the virtual tour took them to the hops room, Budweiser employees would hold a jar of hops under the participant’s nose so they could understand what the room actually smells like. This entire experience helped participants become more aware of the Budweiser brew process, developing a deeper connection with the product than simply a choice of beer at their local bar.

Main Takeaway: When you can, engage as many of the senses as possible for a thoroughly immersive experience.

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18) American Express: 2014 US Open

Photo Source: BizBash

In an attempt to become more digital and social savvy, American Express created a complete digital experience at the 2014 U.S. Open that allowed fans to engage in multiple ways. The U.S. Open American Express Fan Experience was filled with numerous activities that kept participants entertained in more way than one.

All attendees who entered the AmEx experience were given RFID-enabled wristbands that captured fans’ on-site experiences into a personalized email. One part of the onsite experience included a 180-degree rally cam which featured a video camera and backdrop of Arthur Ashe stadium, allowing fans to take pictures and upload them to social media. Additionally, there was a life size hologram of tennis champion Sloane Stephen with whom AmEx card member could pose for pictures with. Finally, the on-site setup included a text cafe that served as a digital hub of sorts, allowing attendees to charge their phones while watching a live newsfeed aggregator of US Open fan buzz from all over the world.

Director of sports marketing at American Express, Michele Carr, was particularly proud of the company’s complete embrace of the mobile and digital spaces, which is crucial for AmEx’s future success. “We had to raise the bar on how we adapted our consumer engagement opportunities, “ she stated. “We really gave [digital and mobile] a facelift this year.” Campaigns like these are why American Express continue to be one of the leading credit card brands.

Main Takeaway: Experiential campaigns should always be easily shareable to magnify the potential of brand visibility.

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19) Misereor: Social Swipe

Photo Source: Kolle-Rebbe

One of the many obstacles for charitable organizations who are trying to collect donations for their cause is that their target audience frequently does not understand how their dollar makes a difference. The lack of transparency with the donation process oftentimes causes people to hesitate before offering their money. Misereor, the German international development charity, very much understood this problem and thought of a brilliant way to address it.

Teaming up with German ad agency Kolle-Rebbe, Misereor created the world’s first interactive display that was able to accept credit card donations. The screen, which had a credit card swipe down the middle, displayed one of two images: a loaf of bread and a child’s hands that were tied up. When donors ran their card through the swipe, they would either be “slicing” a piece of bread of “untying” a child’s hands. The slicing of the bread signified a daily meal for a family in Peru. The cutting of the ropes meant that imprisoned children in the Philippines would be that much closer to freedom.

This highly interactive design was effective because it literally showed how the donor’s dollar was making an impact, directly addressing the lack of transparency that many charities struggle to solve.

Main Takeaway: If your campaign involves asking something from participants, make sure they know exactly why and how their contribution will make an impact on your objective.

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20) Gilmore Girls: Luke’s Diner Pop Ups

Photo source: Las Vegas-Review Journal

As HBO demonstrated above, there are few things more exciting than entering the world of your favorite television show. But it’s especially exciting your favorite show has been on a 9-year hiatus. The team behind the comeback season of the Gilmore Girls had this in mind when they decided to recreate over 200 “Luke’s Diners” all across the United States.

Luke’s Diner was one of the main settings on the show where the main characters often met with one another. At each Luke’s Diner pop-up, customers had the chance to receive a free cup of coffee as well as a “fun surprise under their custom Gilmore Girls coffee sleeve.” The event lasted from from 7am - 12pm on October 5th, 2016. On that particular fall day, Luke’s Diner was an actual real place in over 200 different locations and in all 50 states. The campaign also included an authentic website for the town of Stars Hollow, Connecticut, which was the fictional town in which the show was based in.

Making a fictional town into a real place was a surely a memorable experience for longtime Gilmore Girls fans, bringing back waves of nostalgia that only further persuaded them to tune in on Netflix for the comeback season release.

Main Takeaway: Bringing back feelings of nostalgia is a strong way to emotionally connect with your audience. As long as it is relevant with the product/service you are promoting, try adding a pinch of nostalgia in the experiential recipe.

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Key Takeaways As a quick recap, here a look at some of the main lessons we learned from these stunning experiential marketing examples.

The experiential strategy does not always have to involve the product. As long as the result is a powerfully positive brand association, the strategy is worth it every time.

Be mindful of the pop culture trends and think of ways to incorporate them into your experiential strategy.

Experiential marketing is all the more impactful when it offers something of actual value to the consumer, whether it be a free product or newfound knowledge.

Never be afraid to think big and push the boundaries. Experiential marketing is meant to leave an impression so constantly push yourself and test the limits of your creativity.

Remember that an experiential campaign can consist of multiple forms of engagement. Don’t restrict yourself to only one channel of interaction with consumers. 

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from Cameron Jones Updates https://blog.bizzabo.com/experiential-marketing-examples