#because the number of times i have written threads with people asking jack to join his crew

[trickstercaptain]

crew dynamics are always something i am sorely lacking in so if you're ever wondering whether your muse would be allowed to join Jack's crew, the answer is probably yes :' )

[hexalt]

CW for discussion of suicide

- She's the crazy ex-girlfriend - What? No, I'm not. - She's the crazy ex-girlfriend - That's a sexist term! - She's the crazy ex-girlfriend - Can you guys stop singing for just a second? - She's so broken insiiiiiide! - The situation's a lot more nuanced than that!

There’s the essay! You get it now. JK.

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend is the culmination of Rachel Bloom’s YouTube channel (and the song “Fuck Me, Ray Bradbury” in particular where she combined her lifelong obsession with musical theatre and sketch comedy and Aline Brosh McKenna stumbling onto Bloom’s channel one night while having an idea for a television show that subverted the tropes in scripts she’d been writing like The Devil Wears Prada and 27 Dresses.

The show begins with a flashback to teenage Rebecca Bunch (played by Bloom) at summer camp performing in South Pacific. She leaves summer camp gushing about the performance, holding hands with the guy she spent all summer with, Josh Chan. He says it was fun for the time, but it’s time to get back to real life. We flash forward to the present in New York, Rebecca’s world muted in greys and blues with clothing as conservative as her hair.

She’s become a top tier lawyer, a career that she doesn’t enjoy but was pushed into by her overprotective, controlling mother. She’s just found out she’s being promoted to junior partner, and that’s just objectively, on paper fantastic, right?! ...So why isn’t she happy? She goes out onto the streets in the midst of a panic attack, spilling her pills all over the ground, and suddenly sees an ad for butter asking, “When was the last time you were truly happy?” A literal arrow and beam of sunlight then point to none other than Josh Chan. She strikes up a conversation with him where he tells her he’s been trying to make it in New York but doesn’t like it, so he’s moving back to his hometown, West Covina, California, where everyone is just...happy.

The word echoes in her mind, and she absorbs it like a pill. She decides to break free of the hold others have had over her life and turns down the promotion of her mother’s dreams. I didn’t realize the show was a musical when I started it, and it’s at this point that Rebecca is breaking out into its first song, “West Covina”. It’s a parody of the extravagant, classic Broadway numbers filled with a children’s marching band whose funding gets cut, locals joining Rebecca in synchronized song and dance, and finishing with her being lifted into the sky while sitting on a giant pretzel. This was the moment I realized there was something special here.

With this introduction, the stage has been set for the premise of the show. Each season was planned with an overall theme. Season one is all about denial, season two is about being obsessed with love and losing yourself in it, season three is about the spiral and hitting rock bottom, and season four is about renewal and starting from scratch. You can see this from how the theme songs change every year, each being the musical thesis for that season.

We start the show with a bunch of cliché characters: the crazy ex-girlfriend; her quirky sidekick; the hot love interest; his bitchy girlfriend; and his sarcastic best friend who’s clearly a much better match for the heroine. The magic of Crazy Ex-Girlfriend is that no one in West Covina is the sum of their tropes. As Rachel says herself, “People aren’t badly written, people are made of specificities.”

The show is revolutionary for the authenticity with which it explores various topics but for the sake of this piece, we’ll discuss mental health, gender, Jewish identity, and sexuality. All topics that Bloom has dug into in her previous works but none better than here.

Simply from the title, many may be put off, but this is a story that has always been about deconstructing stereotypes. Rather than being called The Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, where the story would be from an outsider’s perspective, this story is from that woman’s point of view because the point isn’t to demonize Rebecca, it’s to understand her. Even if you hate her for all the awful things she’s doing.

The musical numbers are shown to be in Rebecca’s imagination, and she tells us they’re how she processes the world, but as she starts healing in the final season, she isn’t the lead singer so often anymore and other characters get to have their own problems and starring roles. When she does have a song, it’s because she’s backsliding into her former patterns.

While a lot of media will have characters that seem to have some sort of vague disorder, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend goes a step further and actually diagnoses Rebecca with Borderline Personality Disorder, while giving her an earnest, soaring anthem. She’s excited and relieved to finally have words for what’s plagued her whole life.

When diagnosing Rebecca, the show’s team consulted with doctors and psychiatrists to give her a proper diagnosis that ended up resonating with many who share it. BPD is a demonized and misunderstood disorder, and I’ve heard that for many, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend is the first honest and kind depiction they’ve seen of it in media. Where the taboo of mental illness often leads people to not get any help, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend says there is freedom and healing in identifying and sharing these parts of yourself with others.

Media often uses suicide for comedy or romanticizes it, but Crazy Ex-Girlfriend explored what’s going through someone’s mind to reach that bottomless pit. Its climactic episode is written by Jack Dolgen (Bloom’s long-time musical collaborator, co-songwriter and writer for the show) who’s dealt with suicidal ideation. Many misunderstood suicide as the person simply wanting to die for no reason, but Rebecca tells her best friend, “I didn’t even want to die. I just wanted the pain to stop. It’s like I was out of stories to tell myself that things would be okay.”

Bloom has never shied away from heavy topics. The show discusses in song the horrors of what women do to their bodies and self-esteem to conform to beauty standards, the contradiction of girl power songs that tell you to “Put Yourself First” but make sure you look good for men while doing it, and the importance of women bonding over how terrible straight men are are near and dear to her heart. This is a show that centers marginalized women, pokes fun at the misogyny they go through, and ultimately tells us the love story we thought was going to happen wasn’t between a woman and some guy but between her and her best friend.

I probably haven’t watched enough Jewish TV or film, but to me, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend is the most unapologetic and relatable Jewish portrayal I’ve seen overall. From Rebecca’s relationship with her toxic, controlling mother (if anyone ever wants to know what my mother’s like, I send them “Where’s the Bathroom”) to Patti Lupone’s Rabbi Shari answering a Rebecca that doesn’t believe in God, “Always questioning! That is the true spirit of the Jewish people,” the Jewish voices behind the show are clear.

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend continues to challenge our perceptions when a middle-aged man with an ex-wife and daughter realizes he’s bisexual and comes out in a Huey Lewis saxophone reverie. The hyper-feminine mean girl breaks up with her boyfriend and realizes the reason she was so obsessed with getting him to commit to her is the same reason she’s so scared to have female friends. She was suffering under the weight of compulsory heterosexuality, but thanks to Rebecca, she eventually finds love and friendship with women.

This thread is woven throughout the show. Many of the characters tell Rebecca when she’s at her lowest of how their lives would’ve never changed for the better if it wasn’t for her. She was a tornado that blew through West Covina, but instead of leaving destruction in her wake, she blew apart their façades, forcing true introspection into what made them happy too.

Rebecca’s story is that of a woman who felt hopeless, who felt no love or happiness in her life, when that’s all she’s ever wanted. She tried desperately to fill that void through validation from her parents and random men, things romantic comedies had taught her matter most but came up empty. She tried on a multitude of identities through the musical numbers in her mind, seeing herself as the hero and villain of the story, and eventually realized she’s neither because life doesn’t make narrative sense.

It takes her a long time but eventually she sees that all the things she thought would solve her problems can’t actually bring her happiness. What does is the real family she finds in West Covina, the town she moved to on a whim, and finally having agency over herself to use her own voice and tell her story through music.

The first words spoken by Rebecca are, “When I sang my solo, I felt, like, a really palpable connection with the audience.” Her last words are, “This is a song I wrote.” This connection with the audience that brought her such joy is something she finally gets when she gets to perform her story not to us, the TV audience, but to her loved ones in West Covina. Rebecca (and Rachel) always felt like an outcast, West Covina (and creating the show) showed her how cathartic it is to find others who understand you.

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend is the prologue to Rebecca’s life and the radical story of someone getting better. She didn’t need to change her entire being to find acceptance and happiness, she needed to embrace herself and accept love and help from others who truly cared for her. Community is what she always needed and community is what ultimately saved her.

*

P.S. If you have Spotify... I also process life through music, so I made some playlists related to the show because what better way to express my deep affection for it than through song?

CXG parodies, references, and is inspired by a lot of music from all kinds of genres, musicals, and musicians. Same goes for the videos themselves. I gathered all of them into one giant playlist along with the show’s songs.

A Rebecca Bunch mix that goes through her character arc from season 1 to 4.

I’m shamelessly a fan of Greg x Rebecca, so this is a mega mix of themselves and their relationship throughout the show.

*

I’m in a TV group where we wrote essays on our favorite shows of the 2010s, so here is mine on Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, I realized I forgot to ever post it. Also wrote one for Schitt’s Creek.

[noditchablepromdate]

A consideration of the muse via TV Tropes

//Mun comments: these are based on my interpretation of and headcanons for the muse, not just canon events.

Appearance/Physical

American Accents - though Bobby himself is from South Dakota, his accent definitely hints towards a more typically southern redneck. Badass Beard - one of his most distinctive features.  Blue Eyes - sometimes Icy Blue Eyes. Generally when he’s getting particularly enraged. Nice Hat - Bobby is almost never seen without one of his beloved trucker caps.  Older Than They Look - Bobby is in his late fifties when the Winchester boys show up asking for help, and by the Apocalypse he’s sixty. He’s grizzled and clearly not in his prime any more, but is still younger-looking, tougher and much more physically capable than a guy his age would usually be. Seriously Scruffy - Bobby’s usual outfit is heavily worn and frayed clothes - usually jeans, t-shirts and flannel - that he’s owned for a very long time.

Personality Traits

A Friend In Need / The Reliable One - One of Bobby’s defining traits is that no matter what, if someone calls on him for help, he will do whatever it takes to give that help. Even if he’s freaking DEAD. Badass Grandpa - Bobby’s out there fighting evil well into his sixties. Brutal Honesty - He doesn’t really do sugar-coating very well, so if he’s presented with something and asked his opinion he will often be very blunt about what he thinks of it. Catch Phrase - His go-to swearword is “Balls!” and he often expresses his annoyance (or affection) by calling someone an “idjit”.  Character Alignment - Chaotic Good. Bobby gives absolutely zero fucks about legal or illegal, but he’s absolutely committed to helping the fight against evil and is basically a decent and kind person. Combat Pragmatist - He doesn’t fight in a bid to impress anybody, he just aims to take his opponent down and make them stop fighting back as fast as possible, and has no qualms about fighting dirty to get the result. Crazy-Prepared / Properly Paranoid - Bobby regularly doses visitors with holy water, keeps guns to fire several different types of monster-slaying ammunition, and has built a panic room in his basement, made of solid iron coated with salt, that is demon- and spirit-proof. He has also made several copies of all his priceless books and stashed them in safehouses around the country, just in case something happens to the collection in his house. And he does it all because he knows it could happen. He’s even described himself as a “paranoid bastard”. Deadpan Snarker - A fundamental aspect of his personality. No matter what situation, he usually manages to come up with a sarcastic or snarky quip. This can lead to Snark-To-Snark Combat breaking out, especially if it’s Crowley he’s talking to. Determinator - He just will not lie down and die. Even when a bullet to the head puts him in a coma, he spends the entire time evading and holding off the Reaper coming after him so he can warn Sam and Dean about the Leviathans’ plans. Encyclopaedic Knowledge - He’s done so much studying that he’s able to reel off facts about rare monsters, cast spells and recite exorcisms, and draw a number of sigils from memory.  Forgets To Eat / Must Have Caffeine - Bobby regularly stays up pulling all-nighters in order to do research for a fellow hunter, and in such cases will often subsist on strong coffee and/or caffeine pills. This has left him with a reliance on coffee that’s almost as bad as his drinking problem. Genius Bruiser - He looks and often acts like a typical dumb redneck, but spends most of his time at home with his books, doing research for others; when called on to join the fight directly, Bobby proves himself as capable of kicking ass as hunters half his age. Good Is Not Dumb - He might be on the side of the good guys, but Bobby sure as hell is not stupid. Good Is Not Soft / Good Is Not Nice - While he has dedicated his life to helping others and saving lives, and is gentle and caring to those in need, Bobby is also a cranky, short-tempered alcoholic who lives on his own and gives everyone, including the law, angels, and Satan himself an attitude. He’s also not likely to spare enemies out of the goodness of his heart, either - the few antagonists who manage to escape his retribution are usually the ones who talk the quickest and convince him they’re worth sparing. Otherwise he’ll finish them off without blinking. Grumpy Old Man - Has definite shades of this, though often as not he’s just playing it up, for the sake of a cover or to amuse people. Gut Feeling - Bobby’s instincts are usually spot on and he’s learned to rely on them reasonably heavily, to the point where he can usually guess within seconds if someone he knows is possessed by a demon or otherwise not actually themself. Of course, being paranoid, he’ll generally follow his guess up with a test to see how right he is. Handicapped Badass - During the year he spends wheelchair-bound; although he’s no longer able to actively hunt, his mind is as quick as ever and he’s still a crack shot. Jerk with a Heart of Gold - Famously bad-tempered, antisocial, yells at people who ask him for help and calls them stupid, regularly gets arrested and has no respect for... pretty much anyone. Also one of the key players in the attempt to head off the Apocalypse, who loves the weird little family he’s got with all his heart and will do anything for them. Knight In Sour Armor - Yeah, the world sucks and pretty much everything is horrible apart from a few little warm spots... but he’ll step up to fight for its right to exist time and time again, because that’s the right thing to do. Mr. Fixit - As well as earning his living as a mechanic and salvage yard owner, Bobby is able to turn his hand to a number of other practical skills; he’s successfully modified several guns to fire specialised ammunition, and built the panic room in his basement himself, during “a weekend off”. He’s also proven to be very capable when it comes to installing booby traps and surprises around his house, including a trapdoor outside the hall closet that drops straight into the basement and a specially strengthened basement door to keep whoever got dropped in from getting back out.  Nerves Of Steel - He’s faced down dozens, maybe hundreds, of monsters over the years, armed with a few weapons and his wits and, if he was really lucky, someone competent running backup. He’s even intervened in a showdown between the archangels Michael and Lucifer, though that didn’t go terribly well for him. Not much fazes him now. Old Master - Bobby has likely fought, researched and warded off more monsters than Sam and Dean put together, and is known to be THE person to go to if you need help tackling something you don’t recognise. Omniglot - He speaks several languages, including Japanese and Latin, and is able to decipher and translate a huge number of written languages. Only Sane Man - He often feels like this, especially after dealing with hunters who have managed to completely fail at displaying common sense. Physical Scars, Psychological Scars - Bobby has picked up scars from all sorts of monster encounters over the years, many of them reminders of what went wrong on the hunt. He also still has some old scars from his childhood, as his father used to beat him with a belt. Self-Surgery - Given he prefers to avoid the authorities unless it’s really serious, Bobby will generally patch himself up with needle, thread and a bottle of Jack Daniels. Street Smart - Studious as he can be, Bobby is also a capable survivalist and very savvy at bluffing his way into situations - or out of them. Taught By Experience / Seen It All - Bobby’s one of the best in the hunting community simply because he’s made it his business to be. He’s encountered monsters very few others have, he’s studied countless texts to find weaknesses nobody else knew about... and he’s closely linked to the Winchesters, who seem to get targeted by all the weirdest things out there. Which he takes as a learning opportunity. It’s not often he actually gets startled by something. Talented But Trained - He’s a very smart man, that’s absolutely certain, but many of his skills are what he’s picked up over a long, rough life, and he’s honed them till they’re sharp as a razor. The Alcoholic / Drowning My Sorrows - He’s turned to alcohol to cope with the horrific things he’s dealt with, from an abusive childhood to killing his possessed wife to the deaths caused because he wasn’t quite quick enough to take down the monster he was hunting. The Kirk - Usually plays this role between cool, logical Sam and hot-headed emotional Dean. Undying Loyalty - Literally, in his case; he takes lethal injuries several times, at least one of which was deliberately self-inflicted, and still keeps trying to help his boys in any way he can. Workaholic - He doesn’t often take a break from working, at least not for very long. Wouldn’t Hurt A Child / Friend To All Children - One of his more likeable traits - after the horrendous upbringing he had, Bobby will go above and beyond to make sure any kids he spends time around feel as safe as possible. He’s gentle, affectionate, and respectful of their thoughts and feelings, especially if their own parents are harsh.

Personal History

Abusive Parents / Alcoholic Parent - Bobby’s father Ed was a drunk who thought nothing of being verbally and physically abusive, punching his wife and regularly taking his belt to his son. By the time Bobby hit his teens, his mother was also blaming him for his dad’s violence. Back From The Dead - Bobby was killed by Lucifer while trying to help buy time for Sam to regain control of his own body. Castiel, newly resurrected himself, brought him back minutes later after the crisis was over. Bobby will occasionally refer to it as “that time I died” or something along those lines. Calling The Old Man Out - He finally snaps and intervenes with a rifle when his father begins beating his mother, demanding Ed leave her alone. When Ed taunts him and threatens to deal with him, Bobby pulls the trigger. Later in life, trapped in a coma, Bobby sees his father again in the memory and confronts him, fiercely claiming to be far better than Ed told him he was. Dead Partner - This applies to a number of Bobby’s old hunting friends who have died over the years, most notably John Winchester, Ellen Harvelle and Rufus Turner, all of whom he had a particular bond with. Deal With The Devil - Technicaly a deal with a demon, but the same principle. When Lucifer is on the verge of triumphing in the bid to start the Apocalypse, Bobby sells - or, technically, pawns - his soul to Crowley for the final key piece of information that gives them a fighting chance. He also regains the ability to walk, though that was more of a generous freebie on Crowley’s part. (Naturally, Crowley does not keep his side of the agreement, and later has to be threatened about it.) Fighting From The Inside - When possessed by a demon trying to kill Dean, Bobby manages to put up enough of a fight to turn the blade on himself. Hero Secret Service - Technically the hunting community could count as this. Although they are not organised and have no authority figures, Bobby is a major persona within the ranks. Only Child Syndrome - With no siblings around, Bobby took the full brunt of his parents’ abuse; he never really understood why, but his mother once hinted that he was too much hard work on his own for them to handle having another kid on top. Survivor Guilt - Regarding pretty much everyone he knows who gets killed. His attitude is always I should have done better.

Romance & Family

Badass Family - Adoptive version; anyone who spends a while around Bobby will absorb some of his personal badassness, even if they are already damn awesome themselves. First Love - Karen, the first woman he ever really loved, and whom he holds a torch for long after her death. Happily Married - With Karen. Until she finds out he doesn’t want to be a father... at which point they have a fight that never gets resolved, because she’s dead three days later. Honorary Uncle - To Sam and Dean as kids, and to most other hunters’ kids he spends any real time around, he was always “Uncle Bobby”. Ho Yay / Foe Yay - He and Crowley clash repeatedly, but all that snark-laden verbal fencing, long looks, moments of real vulnerability around each other... yeah, there’s definitely something going on there. Incompatible Orientation - One of Bobby’s main attempted defences against the attentions of a certain king of Hell. Like A Son To Me / Happily Adopted - Sam and Dean, who he played a large part in raising until their teens. Also counts for any of the other younger people he takes in and becomes a father figure to. Papa Wolf - Don’t mess with his kids. Just don’t. He will hurt you. Parental Substitute - To many of the young people he takes in or keeps an eye out for, particularly those who have had poor experiences with their childhood. He absolutely relishes being able to be a positive figure for a kid who needs it. Stalker With A Crush - This is how he tends to treat Crowley a lot of the time, especially when the demon’s being particularly flirtatious or overly attentive. Team Dad - To... well, pretty much everyone with the age or life experience to be considered a kid in his eyes. This includes the Winchesters, Jo Harvelle, several other hunters around their age, a freaking Vampire Slayer, and Castiel, an actual angel with the social savvy of a very sheltered gerbil.

[aweirdlisa]

The Overnight Watch

I’ve written a first part to a fanfic I’ve been wanting to write ever since the Overnight Watch stream. I haven’t written much as I focus more on drawing, but I felt like posting anyways as some of you out there might enjoy this. This is just a first chapter and the next ones will probably be shorter and more eerie, but for now I hope you enjoy! Reading in a dark room is recommended!

I included images to add to the experience.. <3

The Overnight Watch | Chapter 1

“You have been invited to participate in an interactive event organised by Jacksepticeye, will you be there?”

The mail had been sent to everyone’s inbox, but nobody within the fandom had any idea of what was going on. There had been no video, no explanation, no posts about this mysterious event, yet there it was. The biggest problem was: that was it. Just the one sentence without further details, an address or even a date, but it was sent to over 17 million people.

It didn’t take more than ten minutes for someone within the community to post on tumblr about an anomaly in the mail:

“I assume we’re all past the point of freaking out, so let’s do what we’re best at and dismantle this thing. Has anyone else noticed something off about the mail?

Look at the corner where the time is displayed of when the mail was sent. It’s not a timestamp, the numbers don’t make sense. Does anyone have any idea what it might be?

Other than that the sender’s address is fully missing and the mail was marked important without my doing. Anyone?”

The community was set on fire as per usual, but this time an unsettling feeling spread throughout the fandom. Sure, everyone was immediately thinking “Antisepticeye appearance!”, but this just seemed impossible to pull off and way too diverging from the usual pattern. Even though many dismissed it as a prank and moved on, a few individuals kept looking and replied to the thread.

“That’s strange, my mail is different, look:

The number isn’t the same. Does anyone else have a different one?”

But as the replies came in it was made clear that about half of them had received the same mail with the positive number as the other half had received the negative number.

“Anyone who’s up for solving this, join this discord, I think it’s clear that there’s more to find here.”

People from different time zones started to join the server as the noise grew with each person connecting. Theorists like these were used to the cryptic messages, the hidden codes and the zalgo text. It was almost a hobby to figure out what hints Jack had left to indicate an Anti appearance. In situations like these they would convene on a discord server, or multiple discord servers to scan through every little hint they can find.

Almost a year ago Jack had surprised them with a special stream lasting the entire time between the two charity streams they had set up. There was even a hashtag set up, so people could post their findings, this was #overnightwatch.

Everyone who participated in the stream had started calling themselves the Overnight Watch and loved it, despite the mental torture that had deprived many from their sleep. The hashtag stuck around and so did the name.

So it’s been almost a year and Anti hadn’t made an appearance yet. There have been the occasional subtle hints, but not everyone would notice them. Jack was just poking fun. The theorists believed this was part of Jack’s plan of letting the character settle for a while to come back with something bigger and better. Was this that something? A majority of the community had almost forgotten Anti was a thing at this point, so it would be ideal.

“Hello everyone, thank you for coming” a voice said as the ongoing chaos broke apart and everyone became quiet. “As you all know we received a rather strange mail today. So far we have collected the following information:

There are two different numbers where there should be a time stamp, these numbers are 51.509865 and -0.118092. Other than that the sender’s address is completely missing and the text has a few letters that seem to be marked. What are your discoveries so far?”

Not a second of silence went by as a latecomer stumbled into the channel and screamed out two words repeatedly:

“The letters! The letters! The-“

“CALM DOWN.” Two or three people yelled at once, surprised by the overwhelming excitement of the newest addition to the group. The person who acted as moderator of the whole conversation scraped her throat and gave the latecomer a chance to explain themselves.

“Alright so, the letters that are different, they are all in italic and in a very dark green colour. When you assemble the letters you have ‘v t e w l e’ which when put in order reads “twelve”. We are looking for the key elements of an event right? I think this might be the time. I’m not sure if it’s twelve AM or twelve PM though and neither do I have a time zone.”

“Interesting theory,” a different voice spoke up. “I think we can work with that as a start. We’re with 53 people here and I’m sure some of you are in connection with other theorists on different servers as well. Let’s try to figure out what these numbers might mean.”

As everyone started to work through their research, the discord server went quiet. You could almost feel the focus everyone had as they attempted to solve the puzzle. Some left the server as they had to either go to school or sleep. A mere 20 people remained, all working in silence, but the silence didn’t last long.

“Guys..?” A nervous theorists stumbled over their words.

“Yes?” the moderator replied.

“The time stamps? They’re.. they’re coordinates.”

An image was shared, it took a while to load, but when it did different sounds of shock and frustration were heard.

“It’s London..”

“Right”, the moderator collected her thoughts. “So, this thing is taking place at either midnight or lunchtime in London, presumably the local time, but that doesn’t really help us does it?”

“We still need a day and a specific location,” added another theorist. “But I think we’ve gone over everything in the mail. Not even the missing avatar has anything hidden.”

“Hold up, has anyone tried to actually respond to the mail?”

Voices started rambling through each other, which made everyone come to the conclusion nobody had come to that point yet. After furiously debating over what they should do, they decided that everyone should send a mail of their own to see what happens. But no matter what they sent, there just wouldn’t be a response, until one theorist loudly exclaimed victory.

“I did it! I just mailed ‘London’ and then the hour, kind of like I’m replying to the riddle and I got a response!”

The moderator shifted nervously on her seat, her throat felt like sandpaper: “What does it say?”

“It was an image. Let me show you. Here you go.”

Everyone went silent once more. They all knew what this was. The footage from that damned stream.

“It’s been a year, hasn’t it?” The moderator softly whispered into her microphone. “This weekend the night from Friday to Saturday. I think we’re celebrating the overnight watch.” Her eyes closely studied the picture as she recognized the cursed font they had all been screaming about each time they saw it on one of Jack’s video’s or posts.

“Time is broken”, the latecomer read out loud. “It’s all negative aswell. Are we actually going there? Like, there?”

The question lingered. Would they actually go there? Would something happen? Maybe they were taking it too far, maybe it was all a joke. Doubt made another share of the theorists leave the discord, some because they just couldn’t continue at this point, others because they didn’t believe it was a serious matter.

“I guess that makes six of us. Do you want to go through with this?” The moderator asked the remaining few. “Are we going? This Friday?”

The other five agreed, one of them lived relatively close to London, whilst the others were prepared to even fly over for this event. All of them were old enough to travel alone so if it turned out to be nothing they could always turn it into a meetup to hang out. They had been talking for over a year with all the Anti stuff going on, so they weren’t exactly strangers anymore.

“Let’s go for it.”

Friday – 5 minutes before midnight

It had been relatively quiet the days after the mail had been sent, Jack had been his usual self, posting video’s according to his schedule and nobody had mentioned the mail again.

The six theorists met up around lunchtime to spend some time together before they had to go to what they expected to be an event. It all felt surreal, but here they were, no turning back.

They were stood in front of the building and pressed the button of the intercom near the door. Instantly static began to break through the little box, followed by an almost deafening high pitched noise. As quick as it started, it stopped. The door unlocked and opened up on its own.

Hesitantly, one by one, they went inside.

“H-hello?” the moderator stepped into the front desk and looked around, but nobody was present.

Everything went dark.

The door slammed shut and nine monitors lit up in the corner.

The six theorists walked up to the monitors, displaying the same screens they had stared at all night exactly one year ago.

Except this time, they could see themselves, standing in the front desk.

Then something moved in the loading dock.

[jadednightwing]

All About Teh Xiirah

tagged by @wildblueyoshi (senpai noticed me <3)

1) Name/nickname: Xiirah (I’ve started responding more to this name than my legal name lately)


2) Gender: Female


3) Star sign: *the nerd glasses come out* 

Sun: Aries

Moon: Cancer

Rising: Gemini


4) Height: depends on the day and my posture?


5) Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw... though, tbh I’m more of a Slytherclaw ^-^


6) Favourite animal: too many to name, but by all that’s sacred in this world, keep the majority of insectoids away from me.


7) Hours of sleep: however many i can get away with... i’m like a cat that way


8) Dogs or cats: both :3


9) Number of blankets:  usually 2 - the big fluffy comforters that are so cozy


10) Dream trip: uh.... a classic European tour of the continent...but in reverse, where I end up in either Ireland or Scotland and just stay for a long time


11) Dream job: professional Jack-of-many-trades.  part-time teacher, voice actor, twitch streamer, published author, prop/costume designer/maker


12) Time: right now?  uh.... mid evening >.>;


13) Birthday: you mean the Aries thing doesn’t narrow it down for you?


14) Favorite Bands: depends on the day and my mood.  usually Nickelback *anticipates the boo-ing*


15) Favorite Solo Artists: again, depends on the day and the mood - but mostly it’s been Lindsey Stirling.  I love me some techno-violin.


16) Song Stuck In My Head: oh god, it’s usually something random and stupid.  Ever see the movie “Ferngully”?  I’m the bat.


17) Last Movie I Watched:  uhhhh......i watch so many movies, mainly as background noise when i’m working.... the last one I intentionally watched was Thor Ragnarok <3


18) Last Show I Watched: do youtubers count?  otherwise... i think the local news?  erm.... and a smattering of Star Trek Voyager & M*A*S*H  ((again, background noise))


19) When Did I Create My Blog: i have the memory of a gold fish, so i have no idea


20) What Do I Post/Reblog: whatever makes me laugh or an excellently written discussion thread about topics i’m passionate about.... and Cullen.  Because the Commander is my husbando.


21) Last Thing I Googled: oh that’s a deep dive no one wants to go into. 


22) Other Blogs: a couple side blogs here on Tumblr (one for the DnD campaign i’m brainstorming, the other for Sims4 mods that interest me)


23) Do I Get Asks: nope, though i wish i did


24) Why I Choose My URL: I made my blog during my transition between a more “grown up” version of myself and the weeboo fangirl I’d been during most of highschool.  aside from that.... it sounded cool?


25) Following: 351, though that number fluctuates +/- 5 every month or so


26) Followers: 168 - i generally will report/block the obvious porn/spam bots, so this is pretty accurate


27) Lucky Number: pretty sure I don’t have one.  I’ve never noticed a significant reoccurring number in my life


28) Favorite Instrument: surprisingly, the hammer dulcimer/Zither - it’s beautiful and i love watching people play.  one day i’ll learn to play it myself


29) What Am I Wearing: comfy all black “I had to go out and interact with people” shirt and faux-jeans


30) Favorite Food:  probably cheese.


31) Nationality: American


32) Favorite Song: too many, so it depends on my mood or the mood i want to be in.  currently i’m semi-obsessed with Unbreakable by Fireflight


33) Last Book Read: been reading way too much fanfiction recently, so I can’t remember the last book I’ve actually read...much shame upon me


34) Top Three Fictional Universes I’d Like To Join: uuuugh....well, depending if I could become a mage, I’d totally go to Thedas.  Or Tyria from Guild Wars.  or just let me go to Pandora and let me have my Avatar - i needs mah alien dragon!

Since I don’t really get much in the way of participation from my followers, I’ll just tag @redwerecat  ^_~

[perfectlyrose]

Up In Flames (1/10)

Summary: In the year since they decided to become a team, John Smith and Rose Tyler have made quite the names for themselves as Team TARDIS, bank robbers extraordinaire. Newspapers the world over run headlines about The Doctor and the Bad Wolf and their latest heists. They’re practically unstoppable.

Then their world spins to a halt with a phone call. Jack’s in trouble again and a formidable enemy from John’s past has emerged from the shadows to try and destroy the bank robbing couple once and for all. Will they be able to survive this new threat intact or will the life they’ve been building together go up in flames? 

A sequel to Watch it Burn, a Nine/Rose bank robbers AU 

Word Count: 2656

Rating: Teen

Note: Here we go again! Team TARDIS is back in action after a longer than anticipated hiatus. I have chunks of this written but I can’t promise an update schedule. I’ll let you know if that changes. In the meantime... welcome back!

Read here: tumblr // ao3 // tsp // ff

Rose carefully twisted and flipped through the web of lasers that filled the vault’s antechamber. It was cute the way banks still thought that a few dozen moving laser tripwires would keep her away from the vault door.

After she slowly cartwheeled out of her last handstand and into the two foot space in front of the vault that was free of lasers she turned to look back towards the doorway where John was leaning against the doorway.

“Thought I felt you watching,” Rose said with a smirk.

John slowly dragged his eyes up to meet hers, lips quirking up at one corner. “Been awhile since I got to watch you go through a laser grid.”

“I know you haven’t forgotten how flexible I am, not after last night.”

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten,” he promised, voice low and dark. “But watching you demonstrate it in the catsuit is always a bonus, especially when I know I get to take it off of you later.”

Rose grinned at him. “See, if I’d had that kind of motivation to work on my gymnastics as a kid, I’d’ve gotten better than the bronze.”

She turned back to the vault and started pulling equipment out of the pockets of the utility belt strapped tightly around her waist. “Okay, are you going to walk me through how to use this stuff? You know I haven’t broken this vault model before and you packed the new equipment.”

“I’ve got it,” he said, right behind her.

Rose jumped at the proximity of his voice. She glanced behind him to see that the lasers had all disappeared. When her gaze landed back on him he was wearing a shit-eating grin and showed her a little device in his hands that apparently controlled the lasers she’d just made her way through.

“Bastard,” Rose said, hitting him in the chest. “You could’ve turned them off before I went through the trouble of getting through them!”

“Didn’t want you to waste all of your flexibility practice. Besides, I like watching you work.”

Rose huffed and bit back a smile. It was rare that he was this playful during a job and she was thoroughly enjoying his good mood.

John took the code breaker from her and swiftly hooked it up to the keypad next to the vault. He tapped an activation sequence into it and it whirred to life.

“How much time do we have?” he asked as they waited for it to pop the vault door.

“Fifteen minutes. Been in for seven,” Rose answered, checking her watch.

“Plenty of time.”

“Would have more if you’d just turned off the lasers to start with.”

John’s answer to that was cut off by the clicking of the vault door that indicated the code breaker had found the correct combination to open it.

“I love it when they only have electronic locks on things,” he said, pulling the door open and gesturing for Rose to precede him into the vault.

“They were relying on the lasers, I think.”

They rolled their eyes in unison and then the two bank robbers started loading the bank’s cash supply into the bags John had brought with him, slipping into silence as they worked. Within five minutes they were ready to leave.

John reset the lock on the vault and waited until they were both safely out of range to turn the lasers back on. Rose ran ahead to pick the lock on the bank manager’s office.

John joined her right as she pulled out their business card to set on the manager’s keyboard. He squinted as something on the card caught the light.

“Did you change the cards?” he asked.

“Not substantially,” Rose said, shooing him out the door so she could relock it. She handed him the card that they were going to leave on the front door of the bank. “I changed the color of our signatures from black to gold on the back of the card. Looks nicer.”

“You know they’re going to tie themselves in knots trying to figure out why we changed something.”

“Probably will make them inventory their entire gold stock.”

“Idiots,” he scoffed. “Not worth it to steal gold.”

Rose popped up to her feet, done with the lock, and headed towards the front door, John on her heels.

“Cameras still out?” she asked.

John dug in his pocket for his phone. He checked the camera feeds and confirmed out loud that they were still running the video loops he’d set up.

The pair slipped out the front door, pausing only to carefully tape their business card to the glass door. Then, with barely a whisper of the sound of booted feet on concrete, they disappeared into the dark San Francisco night.

It was a short  walk to the apartment they’d rented for the month made longer by the anticipation that crackled in the air between them and their efforts to avoid street cameras. As soon as the door to their place closed behind them John pounced, pinning Rose against the wall and sealing his mouth against hers.

The bags containing the money they’d just stolen fell to the floor with a couple of loud thunks. John slipped one of his newly freed hands behind Rose’s head, threading his fingers into her braided hair and using the leverage to change the angle of their kiss.

Rose’s hands were far from idle. One hand slipped up the back of his jumper, relishing how easy it was to do when he wasn’t wearing his customary leather jacket, and the other moved to his arse, splaying out and pulling him closer so his hips were pressing into her.

“Have I told you how much I love seeing you in your catsuit?” he murmured in her ear after kissing his way up her jawline. “Because it always drives me crazy.”

“Mmm, I’m always open to hearing it again,” Rose said, breathless as he bit down on her earlobe.

“I do always like it better when it’s on the floor though,” he said after a few seconds.

John laid claim to her mouth before she could tease him about being cheesy, giving every indication that he intended to be the one in control tonight and Rose couldn’t find it in her to argue this time. She surrendered. Her blood was already singing from their successful heist and John’s kisses and she let the rare thrill of relinquishing control join the heady cocktail of emotions.

It was like this every time. A year of working together, of bank heists and fights and figuring out how to be partners in every sense of the word, and he could still set her alight with a single touch. She still got a thrill from a successful job and it matched his and they always barely got back to their lodgings before they jumped each other.

They staggered a few meters closer to their bedroom, both of them losing their shirts along the way and refusing to let go of each other. John was doing his level best to make a mark on the side of Rose’s neck to celebrate their success when the shrill tone of her mobile ringing made her whip her head around to look at the object sitting on kitchen counter where she’d left it earlier that night.

“Ignore it,” John growled, not leaving the spot on her neck.

“Was plannin’ on it,” she said breathlessly, digging her short fingernails into his shoulder blades as she turned her attention back to him.

John hissed and ground his hips against her. Rose responded by hiking her leg up around his hip and rolling her own hips into his.

He was reaching for the fastening on her trousers when his phone started ringing almost immediately after Rose’s finally went silent.

John and Rose pulled apart and shared a heavy look. There were only a handful of people who had both of their personal numbers and even less who would call them both at three in the morning.

John dug his phone back out of his pocket and hit answer despite the number being blocked. He put it on speaker immediately.

“Hello?” he said gruffly, voice still rough from snogging Rose.

“It’s me.”

“Jack?” Rose exclaimed incredulously. They hadn’t heard from their friend in something like seven months.

“Good you’re both there,” the conman said. He was out of breath and the note of panic in his voice was one Rose had only heard twice before.

“You in trouble?” John asked, hearing the same thing Rose did.

“More than you can imagine. And not the fun kind.”

“What can we do?” Rose asked.

“I need you to listen and I need you to pay attention. This is serious. Someone’s - shit!” Jack cut himself off. “They saw me, hold on.”

They listened as their friend started running, both bowstring-tight as they waited for Jack to start talking again.

“Okay, no time,” he said after a minute, obviously still running. “Someone’s after you two. They figured out that I know you. I don’t know how and I don’t know how much they know already but they want more information on you and have decided that I’m the best person to give it to them.”

“Jack, where are you?” John asked. His voice went hard and cold as he thought about their friend being in danger because of them.

“Not important. You can’t come after me. You have to hide. Just get off the grid and lay low for a while. I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t know that, Jack,” Rose protested.

“Yes I do. I’m always fine, sweethea-” This time when he was cut off it was with a scream.

The line went silent and John and Rose stared at the mobile in horror. Rose’s shaking hands were covering her mouth and John had gone still as a stone as they tried to process everything that had just happened.

Before they could say anything else or decide to hang up the phone, they heard someone pick Jack’s mobile up from where it had fallen. For a few seconds, all they did was breathe into the speaker as the two thieves held their breath.

“The Doctor and the Bad Wolf, how very lovely to finally meet you,” a smooth voice with an almost sing-song quality to it said at last. “Your dear friend is mine to play with now. We’re going to have so much fun. But don’t worry about being left out of my little game, I’ll be seeing you both very soon.”

The man was laughing softly as John violently pressed the screen to hang up the call.

Rose stared at the phone for a second before looking up at John. He was unnaturally still, jaw clenched tight and eyes cold and blank.

She knew that look well. It was the one he wore when something touched on part of his past that he didn’t want to talk about or be reminded of. It didn’t appear as often as it used to but she still saw it on occasion.

Now wasn’t the time to push him about whatever he was hiding though.

“We need to get out of here,” Rose said, laying her hand over his on the phone. “We were on that call long enough for them to at least track us to the city.”

John nodded sharply. “Bring me your phone,” he said.

Once he had both phones he started working on them, wiping them of all information before removing the sim cards and batteries. While he worked, Rose retrieved her shirt from the floor and slipped it back on.

Silently, she started packing their few belongings, throwing clothes into duffel bags and erasing any trace of them having lived in this apartment. They traveled light so once John started helping, still stonefaced and stiff, they were ready to leave fifteen minutes after the phone call ended.

“What are we doing about the money?” Rose asked. She glanced at the bags of cash still by the front door. Normally they waited a week before redistributing the money but they couldn’t stick around that long this time.

“Donate the lot on the way out of town?” he suggested. “We can send the bank a note later.”

Rose nodded and walked across the room to heft one of the cash bags onto her shoulder. “You ready to go, then?”

John grabbed the last bag in response and they walked out the door, locking it behind them.

They stop at the children’s advocacy center down the street from the apartment they were staying in and leave half the cash there with a scrawled note that it’s an anonymous donation from someone who appreciates what they’re doing for the community. The rest of the cash they leave at a women’s shelter a few blocks away. That donation is left without a note as they know the shelter won’t ask questions about where the money came from.

They find a cab and take it to the airport where they buy tickets for the the first flight of the morning which happens to be going to Seattle. John and Rose are quiet as they go through security and find their gate at the other end of the terminal.

Once they were seated in the nearly empty area, Rose reached out and rested a hand on John’s thigh. “Hey,” she said quietly, waiting for him to look at her. “Are we gonna talk about any of this?”

John shook his head. “Not here. We can figure things out once we find somewhere to stay in Seattle.”

“I’m not going into hiding and leaving our friend to the mercy of that lunatic, no matter what he told us to do,” Rose warned him, wary of his tone and the way he was talking about finding somewhere to stay.

Now he met her eyes, blue ice thawing slightly as they met warm brown. “I made the mistake of questioning your loyalty to your friends once, Rose. I’m not going to do it again.”

“Working on making new mistakes then?” she quipped with a small smile.

“Seem to be. But we do need to get a temporary place in Seattle so we can regroup and come up with a plan. As soon as we have a course of action, we can go get Jack.”

Rose bit down on her bottom lip, worrying at it as she considered asking about the man who’d been on the other end of the phone call. She knew John’s tells for all that he claimed not to have any. It was obvious to her that he had recognized the voice and that it was someone from the past he tried so hard to forget about. Nowadays when she inadvertently wandered a bit too close to those shadowy bits of his life in conversation he would just press his lips together and tell her that he didn’t want to talk about it instead of just clamming up or lashing out like he had when they had first worked together.

They had been making progress. Slow, painstaking progress but progress nonetheless.

Neither one of them talked about their past much still. He had his secrets and she had hers.

Most of the time that worked.

Today was not most of the time though. No matter how much he disliked it, John was going to have to share some of his secrets if they were relevant to figuring out who had Jack and how to get their friend back.

Rose sighed and leaned her head against John’s leather-clad shoulder. Prying into his life could wait until they were not in a public location. Hopefully by the time they were somewhere secure, he would be ready to divulge the necessary information. There was no way he was planning on keeping this from her, they’d moved past that stage in their relationship.

She hoped.