#but i absolutely love his acting choices in this movie. his line delivery is everything. he's so unbothered

[gothicnights]

there's this 1994 movie called threesome. insane name btw. and yes it is the spiritual predecessor to the dreamers 2003 and challengers 2024. and yes it is wildly unpolitically correct with a 3 decade retrospective. and anyway i have a great fondness for it. also you can kinda tell stuff was cut out and according to the trivia section of imdb it's exactly what you would think

[p-receh]

AMAZING EPISODE EPISODNYA BEST BANGET DKJDOFJOFJFODNKFKFKFI

I am not ok, BELIUNGGGGGG

What was your fav part? Mine? ALL OF IT

3 things.

1. ALL SEVEN ELEMENTALS BEIBEEEEEEEEH!!!!!

Not one by one like the comic counterpart, but literally Boboiboy used a freaking Hepta Split!

Tbh my expectations were low cause I was skeptical that Monsta not want to bring them after that last ep (link). But HOLY SHIT WTF???!!!!

I am absolutely jumping in my seat like a football supporter, I can't--

They got short screen time--I DON'T CARE. They still got a chance to team up once again after a whole 8 years since the first movie! Besides, that movie also shortened their screen time.

Whoever decided to make Oboi's armor resemble an ant needs a raise. That's freaking clever.

Btw it seemed their hats were locked with Oboi's position. Also, Hali, and Duri were the only elements that used their sword? Interesting...

"Kembali Beraksi" rearrangge version in the background during the whole scene?? Yes please!!!

Even though it is just short, their portrayal somehow solidified my deduction about the elementals.

Anywho I am still in tears that they finally showed up on screen again. That is my personal wishlist ever since when they announced the show. I am already satisfied with that alone tbh (like really, why should Monsta need to cut that part where they were essentially the big part of the promotion during the Windara comic arc??)

2. Finally Monsta went bold.

Oh, I looooooove that moment. Monsta started to not hold back and I am captivated by every single one of it. The dying scene was well executed, all voice actors were perfect, and this scene reminds me of this.

In my opinion, this scene was also a test for their next project which honestly more dark and horror(the most horror arc throughout the galaxy series for me)

3. IT IS TIME FOR BELIUUUUUNG!!!!

Can I say Nurfathiah Diaz as Beliung here was downright phenomenal? Like holy shit, this is by far her best performance imo, yet.

Her voice acting was blown me away and I could see her improvement from Taufan's first debut to Beliung's was....I'm-I'm lost for words right now.

Look at this line delivery! (Her laugh felt diabolical and I love it.)

"Tuanku yang seksa penduduk planet ni, paksa orang tua dan budak-budak kerja di lombong, tapi saye yang biadab?!"

Edit: Turns out she was pregnant when recording Beliung??

My Respect to her went rocket. Wow.

As a person who watch her performance since the very first season of Upin&Ipin until Boboiboy... I couldn't be more proud :')

And the animation team seriously packed the action right to the tea! Reramos was absolutely blasted the whole way by Beliung. He's as ruthless as Taufan's OG era!

See? See??? Being patient is worth it guys. Therefore I was easily enjoyed the design choice of Beliung's TV ver without seeing leaks.

Taufan's upgraded board also acted as weapons and wings? Genius. And also directly parallel to the first fight with Maripos. He even said this:

The way Beliung flies on his board almost looks like this.

Now I am 100% ready for other 3rd tier designs if this is what Monsta decides to continue on.

(oh I will draw this with the cyber Sonic for sure.)

To end this, Monsta decided to some sort of "invite" Oboi and Kuputeri into a small dark room, purposely to give a more in-depth conversation between the two, linked by Kuputeri's telepath power.

In my opinion, I prefer this strategy rather than the comic counterpart. Cause in a way, Monsta wants to show the bond between Kuputeri and Oboi as same as how Tok Kasa did with him in movie 2. Symbolize by placing the hat as they entrusted their power to the very same boy.

It might be exaggerating but that jumbled corrupted effect when Beliung's struggled? Impressive. Even more impressive that Monsta knowingly used the same effect when "finally" showcasing Beliung's card.

Speaking of ads, now they released the merchandise after the debut.

Talk about self-aware :/

Everything's not perfect and I do have slight issues, but honestly? I'm pretty satisfied with this episode! They ended it nicely done!

Lastly—

Are they not use DWIFUSION as their next title? If so, Gentar arc and Baraju arc are separated! Thank god! My biggest worry apparently will not come true! Alhamdulillah!!

PS: Oh wow, would you look at those numbers! 2 million within 3 hours when I screenshot this. What an impressive improvements.

[glindaupland]

The Phantom of the Opera | Seoul, South Korea | 조팬텀 x 손크리 Review 4/6

October 13, 2023 - Matinée

The Phantom of the Opera | 조승우 Jo Seung-woo

Christine Daaé | 손지수 Sohn Ji-soo

Raoul, Vicomte de Chagny | 송원근 Song Won-geun

Carlotta Giudicelli | 이지영 Lee Ji-young

Final boss of ticketing, Jo Seung-woo! The last one I snatched out of the four in one single ticketing after an hour of suffering. He's a pretty big actor who sells out shows quickly and has also been in dramas and movies. By the time you make it into one of his schedules' seating charts, the seats are all grayed out. So I had to keep refreshing and playing fucking whack-a-mole with the single color specks for any released seats that would pop up. One time I even even made it all the way to confirming payment and it said someone else took it. I actually thought I was about to turn into the Joker. But I am stronger! I won! And after seeing his performance in person? It was worth the fight.

I'll start this off with this tweet:

Shoutout to the guy next to me that was in shambles crying through his binoculars I hope he lived. Admittedly I did get teary-eyed myself! Which is quite an accomplishment even if it wasn't full blown tears like when seeing Ju-taek because I thought I was immune to this show after so long! But this is like uber sad pathetic wet cat man. My seat was actually a great unobstructed view with lots of space in the aisle. The Charlotte is so small that absolutely any view here is a good one especially if you have a pair of opera glasses/binoculars. Also I was safe from the piercing screams of the ballet girls! Hurray!

Hannibal Rehearsal

I really thought "I'll only use my binoculars for the major scenes with the trio because it's too tiring to hold them up", but that was a lie because I loved observing the supporting cast and ensemble too much. This time I watched for the smaller details like Christine quietly singing along to herself on the side while Carlotta was singing 'Think of Me'. Both Christines do it, but I remembered to look for it this show :') Kim Ah-seon had been clearly still recovering from being sick the previous performances, but I think she finally had her strength again this show. I love how elegant and dignified she is and her strong line delivery

The Mirror

Hearing Raoul's voice made the Phantom shoot a dark glare towards the dressing room door. Then, with the slightest smirk, he invited Christine into the mirror. Is somebody proud they managed to swipe the girl from the pretty young rich boy tonight? Ha

First Lair | POTO / MOTN / STYDI

Even if he's like...the most sad sewer creature-y of the Phantoms he's still got his charm okay! His voice isn't very strong, but I think he was able to handle it well enough during my show. He sounds older than he is actually is to me. How do I elaborate without making it sound backhanded? Even though he struggles in some areas with his singing, I think his vocal color is still suited for the energy his Phantom has. I'm just going to have to hope you understand me 😭 Whatever he lacks in that department, he certainly makes up for it in acting. It seems like he never stops onstage, like he's always making so many little choices at every moment. So it was a bit hard to keep track of everything he did because he was constantly doing something and was really immersed. I liked the sort of dreamy delivery of the beginning lines like the whispered way he sings "어둠...속에 - in the darkness". Halfway through the song he seems to build a little more enthusiasm seeing how open she is to him. He used more soft hand movements to act out certain parts of the lyrics like both his ear and then his body when he sang 들어, 느껴 - hear it, feel it". It's like really wanted to paint a clear picture of his mysterious beautiful dark world of music for Christine. I liked when he did a gesture with his hands like energy bursting free when he sang his big note in “네 영혼 다시 태어날 순간 / The moment your soul will be reborn” (let your soul take you where you long to be). This version of the line is unique to his Phantom. He smiled a lot and although he had a bit of a slight odd nervous energy, he still managed to maintain eye contact with her most of the time. Once he finally held her, he rested his head on her shoulder and whispered his words into her ear. 👀 He looked really worried and tried to catch her when she fell. After putting the cloak on her, I think he went to touch her, but stopped himself feeling a bit nervous. He put his hand on his chest instead to finish his final note

"Fake it til you make it" was working so well until it wasn't. Whatever confidence he built up during MOTN...bye. He's a little scary at the end when he shrieks out the 'Curse you!' and an extra 'No!' But most of all he's just really sad. When he asked her "what did you hope to see?" while chasing her, his voice sounded hurt and there was fear in his eyes. Like why, why did you have to be curious when I actually had it under control somehow? He slid slowly to the ground in defeat halfway through the song when he began the crawl. He eventually stopped making an effort to cover his face on his way toward her. Maybe he was so destroyed he didn't have the energy to. I liked how natural his acting felt here. It was tragic without being over the top. But I felt this about a lot of his choices in general

All I Ask of You (Reprise)

What a sad little man, completely a wreck. He covered his ears pleading "그만 제발 그만 크리스틴 다에 ! - Stop, please stop, Christine Daaé!" There should be a Christine Daaé name drop counter for Jo Phantom. He loves to say her name!!

Why So Silent? / Notes II

Taking focus away from the main roles for a moment, André is sooo extra stressed by this point. He fumbled the score when the Phantom tossed it to him. He does this every show, but this time I only just noticed him quickly doing sign of the cross during Notes II when they were opening up letters. He got super jumpy Also, Firmin and André start laughing to each other and making silly gestures making fun of Piangi when the Phantom starts attacking him in his note, but as soon as he addresses them, oh it suddenly really wasn't funny anymore!

The Point of No Return

Somebody help this man he already got jumpy simply just hearing her start to sing. 🤭 JSW Phantom seemed like the weakest one here across from Christine. He’s writhing terribly and gripping himself He was startled the most when she was close behind and he began to tremble. But when Christine finally touches him he moaned a little. It wasn't very loud, but it definitely was there and he threw his head back. His hands reached up to his face as he looked up before he finally held hers. This proposal was a mess. He got down on one knee at one point, but then he got too freaked out and shot right back up again as if he realized it was too vulnerable of a position to be in. When he was unmasked, he didn't scream and it was actually really heartbreaking to me. Like I do love a good scream, but ouch. His face dropped and he froze in complete shock looking like he'd been stabbed in the heart. His eyes darted around for a moment seeing everyone watching him like a trapped animal. It took him a moment to snap out of his daze and run off with her.

Down Once More / Final Lair

After throwing Christine, he almost looked regretful like he realized he was too hard, but then tried to push forward. Because he was fueled by anger, he didn't hide his face away as much like usual. It was still clear he was very actively disgusted by it. He touched his face for a moment after he let go of her and then immediately wiped his hand on his thigh. This performance he was actually able to look into her eyes when giving her the bouquet instead of looking down in shame. When he picked up the mirror bride to toss her he sang his lines into her ear in a whisper and actually very gently just plopped her on the ground instead of throwing her. I love this weird little detail I won't lie...it was kinda cute and silly that he had to hop a little to reach Won-geun's neck with the lasso haha. It's not supposed to be cute but I find it cute okay. He covered his ears while crying when she was coming over to him before the kiss :( After the first kiss it looked like he put his face in her shoulder for a moment, but still didn't have his hands on her. He seemed to give in a little for a second, but then took her hand off his head, looked at it for a moment, and gently wiped it with his sleeve like he couldn't let her have his filth taint her... When he approached Raoul with the candle, he could almost barely be heard whispering "Raoul de Chagny..." slowly in a chilling way before releasing him and turning away. I think he harbors the most bitterness towards Raoul out of the Phantoms. He's the most insecure one, and Raoul is everything he'll never be. He fell and pressed his head into the ground roughly while shaking when he screamed for them to leave him. And his scream was so painful and raw I don't know how he lets that out. He stayed like this for a while before he crawled clumsily and quickly towards the monkey in desperate need of any kind of comfort. He put his forehead head against it, closed his eyes tightly and held it so closely while he sang Masquerade. Christine came back and he tried to fix his hair and clothes before going to her I think SJS Christine was a good match for his interpretation of the Phantom because of how unconditionally compassionate she is. He was very fragile and she's very caring and gentle. I think she really did view JSW Phantom as her guardian and guide and had a very pure deep kind of love for him. Maybe not romantic love, but it was very strong either way. She watched him closely in the boat as she left, but he was facing the other way gripping her veil, repeating her name over and over. He turned at the last moment and called out "Christine Daaé!" one more time to her running over to take in the sight of her one last time. His final lines are actually different from the other Phantoms. It only just hit me the other day that they're the same as the lines from the original production in 2001-2. No idea why it took me that long to make the connection, but I found it interesting enough to note!

I really want to do musical promo time, but I really don't think what's on youtube does him justice. So let me just say his 2019 Jekyll/Hyde + Sweeney Todd and his Hedwig? Incredible. There's a reason for that ticket selling power he has and I say that completely unbiased!

Also lol at the person in front of me on the plane to Seoul that was watching his movie 'The Classic' because I was like "oh hey it's you I'm seeing you in a few days"

[agentnico]

Renfield (2023) Review

Finally we have a sequel to the 1988 masterpiece that is Vampire’s Kiss, that spawned generations worth of meme material and then some, and gave us a Nicolas Cage so unhinged, even for Nicolas Cage! It only took them 35 years, but now we get Cage as the actual vampire. Wonderful. As for those who haven’t seen Vampire’s Kiss - seek it out. It’s an amalgamation of weird, funny, silly, creepy and bat-shit (pardon the pun) crazy, and its about Cage THINKING he’s a vampire. It’s honestly amazing! Anyway, now let’s see him play an actual vamp.

Plot: Renfield, the tortured aide to his narcissistic boss, Dracula, is forced to procure his master's prey and do his every bidding. However, after centuries of servitude, he's ready to see if there's a life outside the shadow of the Prince of Darkness.

Those who know me are probably aware that I have a particular affinity to the man, the myth, the legend that is Nicolas Cage. I truly believe the man is great. With the way he uses German expressionism to deliver performances that to the casual viewer may seem over-the-top ridiculous and unnatural, but in reality is him giving it his absolute all deliver roles that are so unique and unlike anything else one has ever seen. I’m not simply talking about Vampire’s Kiss here. I mean, pick any film from his filmography - you have Face/Off, there’s Mandy, of course Con Air, The Rock...the list goes on. Even when he’s in a blatantly terrible movie such as The Wicker Man remake, he somehow comes out on top at the end with everyone loving him and quoting his lines endlessly. I mean, everyone knows the memorable scene where Cage is being tortured with a wire mesh helmet filled with bees, prompting his oft-parodied line, "Not the bees!" The man is great! He truly cares for the acting craft and is so shamelessly willing to go above and beyond in every role. 

Now the time has come for Nicolas Cage to take on a role that was a long time coming - Count Dracula. Look, I’m not going to waste your time here, Cage is fantastic as Dracula. He obviously steals the show by truly embodying the famous Bram Stoker creation. He is indeed over-acting 100%, but for this version of the character in a horror-action-comedy he is perfect. He’s everything I wanted from Nicolas Cage playing Dracula, and look, if you like Cage’s brand you will love him in this. If you don’t, then maybe just don’t go see Renfield. Easy choice there. But the way he uses mannerisms and maniacal facial movements in this movie make you truly enamoured and entertained whenever he’s on screen. A particular highlight moment is when Dracula visits Renfield in his studio apartment having caught him out on a lie, and his sarcastic delivery of every line is truly some of the funniest stuff I’ve seen all year, and I’ve watched Cocaine Bear! Also shout-out to the make-up department too, as the way the make Cage’s Dracula look in this movie, particularly in the earlier scenes when he is recovering from the burns of sunlight and you see the skin on his face half peeled off, that’s some great practical effects. 

So yes, Nicolas Cage is obviously Renfield’s main selling point. However the titular character himself is played by Nicholas Hoult who too is actually really well realised, with Hoult giving an adorably innocent character performance in his demeanour, all the while also managing to rip people’s heads and arms off left and right, yet still somehow being adorable whilst doing so? Yep, quite the paradox. Speaking of ripping off limbs, there is a hell of a lot of gore in this. I mean proper over the top comic violence where there are literally geysers of the red stuff splattering all over the screen. It’s as if Tarantino walked on set and was like “you guys may not have any feet shots, but boy are you gonna blast some blood!“ Honestly, it’s like Django Unchained all over again. Kind of felt a bit video-game like, with some anime tendencies due to all the madness. 

As for what I didn’t like. Awkwafina - I do apologise for those who are a fan of hers, but I just cannot warm to her in any of her roles. I find her super annoying, and not simply due to her voice, and in here she does the same shtick she always does. And in reality, her entire side-plot in this movie about being a cop fighting against corruption - why was that in the movie? Goodness, I’ve just reminded myself of that Key & Peele sketch about Gremlins 2 where Jordan Peele constantly says “THAT’S BRILLIANT, THAT’S IN THE MOVIE, DONE!!” But yes, all the scenes inn the police precinct felt like they were part of a different movie that had nothing to do with what was going on. All the stuff with Dracula and Renfield’s toxic relationship is great, however all the cop stuff was unneeded. 

Overall Renfield is a silly horror comedy that doesn’t take itself seriously, and simply gives us some stupid entertainment. I had a blast - Nic Cage is great, Nic Hoult was fun, the gore was mental, there were some hilarious moments of dialogue. Ben Schwartz AKA Jean Ralphio plays a mobster/spoiler son brat in this and has some of the funniest lines. Arguably Schwartz is even more over the top than Cage in this movie, and that’s saying something! Renfield is a great time at the movies, as long as you’re willing to embrace its goofy gothic style and lack of seriousness. And Nic Cage fans will have a hoot.

Overall score: 7/10

[bukojuiice]

—the lovey-dovey things they do with you while you're both stuck at home during quarantine

ೃ chars: izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugo, shoto todoroki, eijiro kirishima and shinsou hitoshi x gn! reader

ೃ  tags: headcanons, fluff

ೃ  warnings: none!

ೃ  my nav  →  my mha writing masterlist  → my katsuki bakugo x reader smau

ೃ  please do reblog if you enjoyed!! it really helps writers and content creators on tumblr!  

ೃ  if you want to be a part of my mha taglist. send me an ask!  ♡

katsuki bakugo: cooking and baking with him! it all started on a cozy afternoon in April, you’re mindlessly scrolling through tiktok whilst cuddling with katsuki (your sparky bf practically asleep in your arms) when you stumbled upon some cute and interesting cooking videos appearing on your fyp. katsuki peers through your phone and groggily asks if you want to try out and attempt to make some of them and you immediately say yes!

the two of you start with something simple and basic, dalgona coffee! (even playfully arguing whether or not you should adding more whipped cream to your drinks or not), after that, you then take your culinary journey a bit further by making some baked sushi, cloud bread, and mini donut cereals among many other scrumptious delights! after a while, you decided to buy some matching “kiss the cook” aprons online and even started a tiktok account detailing all of the special twists katsuki made to the recipes (although he absolutely refused to make an account at first, with some probing and dozens of pouty faces and puppy eyes coming from his adorable significant other, he finally gives in) dancing and kisses in the kitchen, spreading flour on each other’s faces, leaving sneaky love notes by the fridge, and making each other coffee in the morning were just some of the little add-ons the two of you would do with each other.

izuku midoriya: online escape rooms and virtual museum tours! the national museum of japan were offering some free virtual tours around the museum and the two of you could not just pass up the opportunity to see all the intricate pieces being displayed in the museum. however, izuku wanted to experience something else that's similar to that and so, after seeing an ad on twitter for an virtual escape room experience, izuku excitedly told you about it. jumping and hopping around like a little bunny and you couldn’t help but agree as seeing him so happy and so excited for something will never fail to make your heart flutter. the two of you immediately book a reservation and even bring out your virtual reality gears for the full immersive experience. you’re clinging to his arm the whole time as you virtually traverse a horror escape game and your freckled boyfriend tries his best to be brave just for you.

with both of your intelligent and inquisitive minds combined together, with the occasional soft couple bickering, and having to listen to izuku murmur to himself for several minutes,  the two of you solved 7 escape rooms (for a week straight) in a span of three hours each. the two of you take turns in doing the tasks of the game, and whoever fails to do so, has to do the other person’s bidding for the entire day. although the two of you could never force the other to do any mean-spirited dares to each other, most of the bidding you told each other to do were peppering each other kisses on the cheek, long and warm hugs, choosing the movie for the night, cuddling in the bed and holding hands among many other things.

todoroki shoto: binging movies and tv shows on netflix with him! this was the perfect opportunity to help your icy-hot boyfriend finally indulge in everything pop culture. and what better way to do so than on netflix and other streaming sites? the two of you end up watching every romantic movie dear to your heart. mixed with bed or couch cuddles, blankets wrapped around the two of you, a lot of cheesy and loving whispers said, and paired with some comfort food you ordered online. your watching area varied. sometimes the two of you would watch in the bedroom, living room, and sometimes you would even make a pillow fort with dangling fairy lights attached to it filling the tent with fluffy stuff toys to lie on just so that the two of you can watch on the floor.

shoto cried when the two of you finished watching the notebook and the eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. and all you did the entire night was give him all the hugs and kithes you could provide him. ever since then, the two of you opt for more light-hearted movies. rom-coms, disney movies and sitcoms where he endlessly referenced iconic lines from friends, the office, how i met your mother, and brooklyn 99. the days in quarantine go by with the two of you just mindlessly singing and dancing along to disney songs, rewatching rom-coms for the umpteenth time, reenacting some scenes from iconic movies with dry yet hilarious acting, and just discussing movie theories whenever he cutely and innocently asks you about some small details he missed every time you finish watching a movie for the day

eijiro kirishima: training and exercise routines with him! your shark-toothed boyfriend is a fitness buff through and through. to the point that a room in your house dedicated to just gym and fitness equipment exists. but when quarantine struck the world and your lovely home, you slightly lost your motivation to work out. eijiro continues to encourage you to do so ofc! with the two of you occasionally going outside to jog but aside from that, nothing much else. when he catches you watching a chloe ting video on youtube, he scoops you up from the couch, and you giggle trying to tell him to put you down yet he refuses to do so, as he carries you all the way to your little gym room. you notice that there are yoga mats sprawled about and since then, the two of you would do a lot of yoga as it has been proven to decrease anxiety. sometimes the two of you would get distracted and start dancing to the exercise music, accompanied endless laughter and giggles when kirisihima would do his daily planking exercise with you sitting on top of him as he does so.

there were also times when the two of you were so tired and sore. so you would give each other loving massages, there were also times when the two of you would just sleep it out or just lounge in the bed. excercise couldn’t stop your cravings and so, and there were also times when the two of you would do some food mukbangs you’ve been craving for recently.

shinsou hitoshi: playing video games with him and taking care of your little pet kitten! right before quarantine started, shinsou surprised you with a pet little kitten that the two of you decided to name gigi, named after the cat from kiki’s delivery service. the two of you always running around the house as if you were parents to a newly-born baby, watching your cute little kitten frolicking around, touching and interacting with everything he could find. after watching some “cat parents” videos on youtube and learning some tips, you attempt to give it a bath, resulting into a very wet failure. with the only time you can feel peace and quiet was when gigi was asleep or whenever he would be drinking his vet-approved milk. your quarantine life was hectic and chaotic but taking care of a cute little bundle of joy with your equally loving and handsome boyfriend... well, life couldn’t get any better than this.

when you were finally able to get the hang of the cat parents life, you and shinsou finally found the time to rest and relax by playing video games. may it be a horror, action, adventure, rhythm, or fantasy game, you were always playing with him. maybe as a player 2 or just as the supportive significant other who helped him solve puzzles, make story game choices that could change the game, and even help him with the buttons if he was trying to fight some hard boss. whenever there are jumps cares in the game, he would hold your hand and give you reassuring pats. whenever the two of you would play against each other on the other hand, he has his arms wrapped around you, with you still being extremely focused at the game at hand, he would give you pecks on the cheek to try and make you distracted so that he can win. your little pet kitten, gigi, sleeping on the couch as the two of you play to your heart’s content.

ೃ taglist: @chibishae34​  @lovelytarou​ @ramunegoddess​, @serossimpy @laudthingcat​​

[sunflowersand-bees]

I absolutely love Heartstopper

I have a lot to say about this show. And so I wrote an essay...

Friday morning, April 22nd, I was reading the episode descriptions, because I’d already read the comics, and I saw these events and characters like Imogen and rugby matches and a field day, that had not happened in the comics, and I was apprehensive. Usually, when TV shows and movies deviate from the original plot, I dislike it. It doesn’t match with the flow of the story very well.

But Heartstopper.

Oh man.

Everything just fits so perfectly.

The little animations and the different lighting and the color schemes and the characters and the background music.

It’s wonderful.

Especially Isaac and Imogen.

Of course, I miss Aled, but Isaac just fits with the friend group so perfectly. He just clicks with them. He isn’t a replacement for Aled either. He is his own character with his own traits and such, even if he isn’t really explored and doesn’t have character development, but I absolutely love him. He is the only person in the show with a single brain cell that he uses. His wide and knowing smile makes me laugh every time.

I feel really bad for Imogen. She seems like a decent person. Her interactions with Nick remind me of interactions I have with my genuine friends. She is not a bad person. The part where she interrogated Tara about Nick was a bit awkward and she was a bit possessive, but she didn’t do anything particularly cruel. She was just clueless and a bit annoying. Later we can see that she actually cares for Nick. She simply fell for the wrong guy and I sincerely doubt Imogen is going to be jealous. Her look in episode 8 when Nick runs off with Charlie says that she’s going to be supportive. Also, her subplot didn’t feel forced which I absolutely adored. Her and Nick’s interactions were genuine and fit the vibe and feeling of the series so well.

The show is very soft, and the choice of music and the little animations fit that wonderfully. The music fit the atmosphere with amazing queer artists and perfect lyrics. The animations appeared at the perfect moments and gave more life to the show, showing things that could not be shown as clearly through film as it could through a comic format.

The actors’ characterizations of their characters were outstanding. I particularly loved Nick’s actor, Kit Connor, did a wonderful job. He personified Nick so well. From his expressions to his delivery of his lines, it’s all amazing. I literally cannot describe exactly how well he fit. He just managed to portray him wonderfully.

But I also noted that William Gao did an amazing job as his character, Tao Xu. The display of emotions you could see in his movements, expressions and tone was so natural and organic. This is partially with credit to the writers and directors, but the lines and scenes that Tao was in that were not in the comics still fit him so well. This is definitely due to William Gao’s acting expertise, as well as Alice Oseman and her coworkers’ decision making when it comes to new scenes.

Of course, all of the actors did an absolutely heartstopping job with their respective characters, and I love the casting decisions, but Kit Connor and William Gao stuck out to me.

The ending of the season was wonderful, and the little hints that have been dropped throughout the series really reinforce my belief that this will follow the graphic novels.

Even if there wasn’t more to unpack with Charlie and Nicks’ personal struggles, they cannot end the series without Tao and Elle getting together.

I really hope we get introduced to Sahar, Otis and Sai, I liked their characters in the novels.

I have high hopes for the following season, and I know that no matter the outcome, Alice Oseman will deliver. She always does an amazing job.

Everything in this season of Heartstopper was completely perfect, and I know that that is due to Alice Oseman’s direct involvement in the creation of the TV series.

Now, I am required to go reread the comics and rewatch the show. So many emotions I need to revisit. <3

Go watch and/or read Heartstopper if you haven’t already! The comics are available to buy online, at Barnes and Noble, on Tapas, and on Webtoons. Season 1 of the show is on Netflix.

[apiratewhopines]

Thanks to @teamhook for the artwork and for helping me pick a movie that wasn’t already done!

Midnight

Chapter 6 — The Mice

Summary: In which our heroine wins the battle but loses the war

Chapter 6 of 7 on AO3

“The way you changed my life

No, no, they can’t take that away from me”

-They Can’t Take That Away from Me, Fred Astaire

After the excitement of the morning passed, Sidney grumbled until they returned to the table. Still shaken by whatever Arthur said on their brief phone call, Killian declined to join them and returned to their room. No doubt to dream up a make-believe pregnancy for her. Most probably twins this time.

“I thought you told me we would have smoked salmon for our bagels,” the man complained to Guin, face upset as if the plentiful choices offered on their breakfast buffet were insufficient.

“I’m sorry, dear. I know it’s your favorite, so I made sure it was on the menu I gave to our chef,” she murmured coaxingly. Looking at the butler who was filling Arthur’s coffee cup, she asked, “What happened to the salmon?”

“There was a mistake, ma’am. It was left out of the last delivery, and since the phones have been out all morning, we couldn’t contact the market. I’ve sent one of the girls into town to buy some, so we will have it tomorrow morning. If the gentleman prefers, we can prepare a plate for him this afternoon.”

“Nonsense,” she replied. “The phones are in perfect working order. We just made a call to Europe to check on the Baron’s daughter.”

“No, ma’am, only the internal phone system is working. An accident took out the lines last night.”

Emma reached over and grabbed Arthur’s hand under the table as they shared an uneasy look when the other three people at the table all glanced at her with questions in their eyes. Lance broke the silence. “I don’t understand…”

“I’m afraid he’s right. I wasn’t on the phone with my mother-in-law. In fact, I don’t— No, I don’t want to burden you with my problems,” she said haltingly, her mind racing with ways to get out of this mess. The words tumbled from her mouth so quickly she didn’t have a chance to think through the consequences, which seemed to be the way she operated these days.

“Oh, please, you can’t stop now. This little mystery is the only thing distracting me from my lack of fish,” Sidney countered. He was studying the wide variety of fruit compotes and toppings for his pancakes and sounded desolate. “Please.”

“Well, let’s just say the Baron’s family has a touch of eccentricity,” she continued with a grimace. She had their rapt attention; even Sidney abandoned his food and gawked at her. “My first hint was at the wedding. I was opening the gifts, and his grandfather gave us a broken compass covered in Thousand Island dressing.”

“Yes,” Arthur broke in, determined to help. “Now I remember hearing there was a streak of madness in the family. His father was known as the Mad Baron of Cambridge. He liked to give people roller skates with missing laces instead of flowers.”

“The truth is…we don’t have a daughter.”

“Oh, this is much more delicious than breakfast,” Sidney gushed, pushing his plate away and moving to the seat across from her. “Tell us more.”

“I don’t want you to think bad of him. Most of the time, he’s lucid and the sweetest man in the world. That’s the man I fell in love with. But when he’s having one of his episodes, like this morning, he can get quite aggressive if confronted. It’s best to go along with whatever he’s saying. It always starts when he first wakes as if he can’t shake some odd dream in his mind,” she grabbed her napkin and dabbed at fake tears. “There was one time about six months ago he woke up convinced he was Captain Hook. He wore eyeliner for weeks and refused to use his left hand. When I tried to make him see reason, he insisted I call him Captain and tried to have me arrested as a mutineer.”

“You poor thing,” Guin said, genuine sympathy in her expression. “I wondered why you called him that. I thought perhaps he served in the Navy.”

“And you’ve stayed with him all these years?” Lance’s gaze, which was always admiring, held a new respect for her now. It didn’t make her feel any better. “You’re wonderful.”

“Hmm, yes, absolutely amazing,” Arthur murmured under his breath. The smirk was back, and she could tell he was enjoying her web of lies. At least someone was. “Is there some medication he can take? Perhaps you should have him committed.”

“No, I would never. I promised to stay with Killian in good times and bad. It will pass eventually. It always does,” she bit out, kicking him under the table. Before anything else could be said, she heard the Captain whistling as he practically skipped out of the house toward them dressed in the sky blue scrubs of a surgeon. The color made his eyes even more beautiful, and the tiniest smattering of hair visible above the v-neck of the shirt did things to her heart.

“Arthur, Guinevere, thank you for the hospitality, but we really must be going. I have to get back for my shift at the hospital.” Everyone jumped at the pronouncement, exchanging loaded glances and trying to figure out what to say or do next.

Guin smiled at him shakily and in a calm voice asked, “The hospital, Baron?”

“Not a baron, I’m afraid. And this woman isn’t a baroness. You notice I didn’t say my wife because she isn’t that either,” Killian informed them as he stopped by her chair and reached down to place a hand on her shoulder.

“Killian, you don’t mean that,” Emma responded. She would have laughed at his look of confusion at the lack of reaction to his revelation if she wasn’t so sure it would come back to bite her in the ass.

With an admonishing look, Lance said, “See here, Baron, there’s no need to insult the woman who has stayed by you through thick and thin.”

“Thick and thin? We met five nights ago, and she couldn’t wait to be rid of me. She’s an imposter. And I’m a doctor who has real things to do in the real world. Come on, Swan, let’s leave these lovely people to their breakfast.”

“Oh, I get it. You think she’s Elizabeth Swan from Pirates of the Caribbean.” Sidney snapped his fingers as if all the pieces had fallen into place.

“What? No, I think she’s a bounty hunter and the most impossible woman I’ve ever met,” Killian argued, determined to make them see the truth. The more he spoke, the more their faces cleared of all emotion like they were afraid a smile or frown would push him further into his delusions. He pulled her from the chair gently, and since she felt like pond scum for the lies she told, she let his arms circle her waist. As an added benefit she didn’t deserve, the position allowed her nose to be tickled by the chest hair so temptingly on display.

“Maybe she’s a mutineer,” Arthur offered.

Looking at the group, Killian shook his head in disbelief. “I think you’re all crazy.”

“Yes, that must be it,” Guin said soothingly. “Why don’t you have some breakfast, Baron?”

“I’m not sure how I can be more clear. I’m not a baron. We’re not married. We met in the middle of the road a few nights ago, and I pretended to be her Uber driver so I could give her a ride to a strip club. It turned into the best night of my life.”

Undeterred, Guin patted his arm, which was still wrapped tightly around her. “What a lovely courtship you’ve had. Now, let’s get you something to eat. Do you prefer coffee or tea to drink?”

“Are you not listening to a word I’m saying? We’re fakes! We haven’t known each other for more than a week. She twisted me around her little finger in two minutes. As infuriating as she is, I fell in love with her smile. The sound of her laugh makes my blood pump faster, and when she talks about not believing in love, it makes me want to prove to her that it exists every day for the rest of our lives.”

She was fading, her will to stick it out with Arthur and give him a happy ending melting in the heat of Killian’s honeyed words. His genuine concern at how nonchalantly they were accepting his confession should have been funny, but all she could think about was how he said ‘the rest of our lives.’

Like he meant it.

“Well, fakes or not, I’m still hungry,” Sidney answered, trying his best in the face of impossible odds. “Maybe your patients could wait a few hours until the salmon arrives. It’s quite good.”

“Bloody hell, this is a madhouse. Come on, Emma, enough is enough. Let’s go,” he urged her again. Taking the napkin from her hand, he threw it on the table and switched his grip to gently hold her upper arm and guide her away from the group.

They were immediately halted by Lance, thunder in his expression and lightning in his eyes. “She’s not going anywhere with you, Baron. We know all about your illness. She won’t be safe.”

“My illness?” Understanding dawned on his face and his head tilted back like he was searching the morning sky for answers. With a wry chuckle, he sighed. “Bravo, Swan. You told them I’m crazy. And I played right into it, didn’t I? Because I’ve been acting crazy, a man driven out of his mind at the sight of his most cherished dream waltzing away from him like he was nothing. Like everything he felt was nothing as far as she was concerned.”

She choked up at the bitter twist of his mouth. He was so brave, declaring his feelings in front of everyone, even convinced she would reject him again. Was it any wonder she had fallen head over heels for him?

And what did she do? She lied. She tricked. She ran. Then she rinsed and repeated.

“Captain,” she whispered, her hand moving to cradle his face when a sickening crack was heard and he crumpled at her feet.

Behind him, looking proud of himself, Sidney was still holding a pan aloft like he thought Killian might jump to his feet and demand a second round. Fear flooded her and she dropped to her knees to cradle his head in her lap. Helplessness, her hands fluttered over his body, her mind trying to sort out the impossible situation that was entirely her fault. “Why the hell did you do that?”

“He looked homicidal.”

Shaking him gently, she begged, “Killian…Killian, come back to me. Don’t leave me here alone.”

“You aren’t alone, sweetheart,” Lance promised, trying to move her away.

She swatted at his hands and refused to leave. The movement caused Killian’s head to lull to the side, and she saw a smear of red dripping from his hairline. “Someone call 911. He’s bleeding!”

Sidney glanced down at them with a mildly alarmed look and then at the weapon he still held. He ran his finger across the bottom and, with some relief, announced, “That’s not blood. It’s raspberry compote.”

—

Arthur’s personal physician made a house call to attend to the victim. Of course, the woman knew Killian Jones, MD, who was apparently the Director of Pediatric Oncology at Storybrooke General and one of the foremost experts in his field.

He was a saint in addition to being her Captain.

He deserved so much more than a lost girl who was too scared to know a good thing when it stopped on the side of the road to save her.

“This couldn’t have worked out better, my dear,” Arthur commented with an eyebrow wiggle. “Lance is beside himself. He just announced he plans to hire a divorce attorney this very afternoon. Run along. I’ll make sure the good doctor makes it back to town safely. I’ll even throw a couple thousand his way for his performance.”

“Shut up, Arthur. This is terrible. An innocent man got hurt, and it’s all our fault. My fault,” she corrected with a whisper, running her hand softly through Killian’s hair. He regained consciousness as the doctor checked him out but fell asleep while she assured them no permanent damage was done. Replacing the ice pack against the goose egg forming on the side of his head, she silently pleaded with him to wake up so she could grovel properly and beg for forgiveness.

“He seems quite taken with you.”

“Maybe he’s crazy after all,” she joked, but her heart wasn’t really in it. She doubted she would find anything funny until she saw his electric blue eyes again. “Can you leave us alone? I want to be able to explain when he comes to.”

“Of course, just call if you need anything.” He gave her a probing stare as if trying to decide whether to say something else before he left.

When she heard the door click shut, she leaned over and brushed a soft kiss across his lips. “I’m sorry. For running. For lying. For putting you in a situation where you got knocked out. I know that’s not nearly enough, but I am.”

“It’s a start,” he groaned as her hushed tone drew him from sleep, one hand moving to cover hers where it held the ice to his head and the other reaching out to play with the ends of her hair. “What happened?”

“I happened. This is why we don’t work, Captain. I’ve brought you nothing but pain and suffering since the moment we met.”

“I didn’t figure you for the melodramatic type, Swan. We had some good times before this farce began,” he reminded her as he shifted into more of a sitting position. “Are you ready to admit there’s something between us, or do I need to jump back into the fray and take a punch bowl to the face?”

“I never denied there was something between us, just that it was a good idea. I believe a raspberry-flavored concussion proves my point perfectly.”

His hand drifted to her cheek, calloused fingers glancing over soft skin. She wanted to look away from his intense gaze, but he tenderly grabbed her chin and held her in place. “Love, come away with me. It doesn’t have to be forever; we can sort that part out later. I’m simply asking for your company now, to give us a chance before you decide against it.”

“I want to, Captain. I want the carrot and everything else behind Door Number One,” she murmured with a watery chuckle. His gentle caresses grew hotter and more insistent. Finally he pulled her to him, her body half-covering his, as he claimed her mouth in the kind of scorching kiss that would burn through her memory forever.

She had nothing to offer him, and she had a long way to go before she would be worthy of this kind of love. Unconditional. All-encompassing. The kind she didn’t even know existed until he rescued her.

“I sense a but coming…”

“But—“

With a sad smile, he interrupted her. “On second thought, don’t. Please. I can’t bear to hear you say the words. To watch you run one more time. Let’s call it a day now so we can remember it fondly in the years to come.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not as sorry as I am.” He tapped her nose lightly with his fingertip, observing the tears in her eyes as she fought to keep them from falling. Giving her a bittersweet grimace, he added, “Just promise you’ll take care of yourself, Swan. No more skipping meals. No more pretending to be anyone other than the amazing woman you are.”

The tears that were a threat until then slipped past her defenses, leaving trails down her face. He swiped at them and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Then he was gone.

Arthur found her later in the exact same place, not having the energy to move. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. “This is the last time you’ll ever have to live this day, my dear.”

She knew he was trying to make her feel better, but the knowledge he was wrong caused her to feel light-headed as she turned into his embrace. She would never have to say goodbye to Killian again, but she knew she would relive it over and over until the day she died.

—

He approached her on the shoreline as she watched the blue waters of the Atlantic crash against the rocky beach forming one side of Arthur’s estate. Heat lightning flashed in the distance; the far-off storm robbed of its noise and violence when viewed from the calm of land. Emma knew it was only a matter of time until he sought her out. He was a smart man, a gambler and a rogue, so why not press his advantage?

“You disappeared on me after the baron left.” Lance never referred to him as her husband, always ‘the baron.’ She wasn’t sure if it was his way of skirting the immorality of his pursuit or simply to rob the other man of any claim on her, but it was starting to piss her off. Which was silly considering he wasn’t really her husband. Or a baron.

“He told me he was filing for divorce on his way out. That he hoped you found happiness but had come to realize it wasn’t going to be with him.”

She had yet to look at Lance, but she felt her heart break a little at the scene he painted. It was just like the Captain to try to help her all the way to the bitter end. She supposed he simply couldn’t stop himself. Breathing in the warm salty air, she wanted to let it fill her lungs and sweep out the misery that had taken hold in the core of her.

She was an idiot. She had let someone who had never loved her, never really even cared about her, twist her into someone who would do the same thing to a man who was perfect in every way. If she hadn’t already sworn to get even with Neal Cassidy, this would have driven her to it.

She was damaged now, unfit for human company, clinging to a sham because it was easier than facing the fact she made the biggest mistake of her life. Only this time, there was no boogeyman in the form of a cheating, lying ex to blame. She did this to herself.

But she didn’t have to double down on it.

With a deep sigh, Lance dropped on the sand next to her. He was more casual than she had ever seen him, and somehow it made him more approachable. Barefoot and with his pants legs were rolled up to mid-calf in a nod to the tide, he observed, “He was wrong, wasn’t he? You still love him.”

“Yes,” she admitted, staring at the horizon.

“And you aren’t a baroness…”

“No,” she confirmed, this time chancing a sidelong glance at him. “Everything he said was true. I’ve been here under false pretenses.”

“To come between Guin and me. It has the smell of an Arthur scheme all over it,” he explained with a wry grin. “Well, I can’t say I didn’t deserve it. I never intended for it to go this far, but once it started, we kept getting deeper and deeper until I couldn’t see a way out. And then I didn’t want to. I love her, I probably always will, but she’s not mine. You helped me realize that. A gorgeous wake-up call designed to turn my head and steal my heart. Losing you is my penance. One I can’t regret because I have a feeling you saved several lives by playing along.”

“You’ll be back in the saddle again soon, I’m sure, and the women of the world will be better for it. Do yourself a favor next time, though. Choose an available woman, and once you find her, don’t let her go. Don’t make the same mistake I did.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“Pick up where I left off, I suppose. I have some debts that still need to be paid and a fugitive to bring to justice. Maybe if I keep busy enough, keep moving, this will all fade and seem like some fever-induced dream.”

“I meant, what are you going to do about Jones?”

“I think I’ve done enough already. The best thing I can do for Killian now is to stay away.”

“For someone so smart about other people, you have a rather glaring blind spot when it comes to your own life. A mistake is only a mistake if you keep making it. You know where to find him, you know he wants you to, the only thing stopping you is fear.”

“Fear is enough, Lance.”

“You know what fear has gotten me: Absolutely nothing. I was afraid to put myself out there, so I only got involved with women who I knew would leave me before the whole thing even started. It’s hard to mourn the loss of a relationship that never stood a chance to begin with. It cost me my best friend and two women I care about. You’re better than that, Emma, and doesn’t he deserve the best version of you? But more importantly, don’t you?”

@teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @stahlop @motherkatereloyshipper @xarandomdreamx @xsajx @klynn-stormz

[threeminutesoflife]

Manipulation Station

Pairings: Snowpiercer Dark!Curtis x Dark!Reader

Warnings: 18+, Snowpiercer movie (movie line*) spoilers, unprotected sex, poisoning.

Summary: Curtis accepts Wilford's offer to lead the train and selects the Reader, the resident executioner for the first class criminals, as he wife.

Written for @jtargaryen18​ Dark Curtis Holiday Challenge. The way she writes is an absolute favorite. Read and enjoy her pieces- she's a gifted lady!

Prompt: “I don’t owe you patience or trust.”

Word Count: 10.5k

“Do you think you’ll be safe when I’m gone, dear girl?”

“I can take care of myself, Wilford. I have most of my life.”

“Yes, but you’ll need to sleep sometime.”

Wilford rose from the chair and made his way to the rolling drink cart along the office wall, “You’re great at what you do. You’re an investment to order.” He smiled proudly at you before turning his back to mix a dirty martini. “But when I’m gone, there may be family members looking for revenge. That worries and saddens me deeply. To think I can no longer protect you. Especially after everything you’ve done and all those times you’ve kept order on our sacred engine.”

One.

Two.

Three olives plopped into the glass.

You bit the inside of your cheek at his words, remembering how many past punishments and executions you carried out in Wilford’s name. The many times you were requested to maintain control for him and administer repercussions on the first and second-class passengers.

You were good at it. Maybe too good. Without Wilford’s protection, you’d have to be on constant watch until someone relieved you from your executing position permanently.

“This may not even come to pass, but if it does- I need to know you’ll agree. I need you. He’ll need you. Between you and me, Gilliam reassures me you’re a shoo-in. And I don’t doubt you for a moment, dear,” Wilford raised his glass to toast you before sipping the drink. “Curtis’ll want you on the spot. You’re an extremely important tool. Trust me. You’re more his type than even he realizes.”

“I do trust you,” you replied automatically. “I always have. You’ve protected me and allowed me the pleasure of administering your final word to those ungrateful, sir.”

“Exactly, dear girl. You understand my picture,” Wilford patted your shoulder as he passed by to take a seat. “Our picture. I need you to keep being that important tool. Keep the train on the right track, so to speak.”

He winked at you before biting into an olive.

Lifting a silver dome cover off the platter, Wilford offered you a warm chocolate chip cookie.

“You, my girl,” he said while waggling his selected cookie in air, “know the right kind of structure. And that kind of structure is our right kind of order. Things must remain as they are, the order must remain as it is. But most importantly, you respect it. You’ll teach Curtis to do the same. I need you at his side. Connected in all ways.”

“But marriage? I don’t understand the purpose, Wilford. It seems unnecessary, we’re forever on this train-”

“He’ll have too much power if he makes to the front. I need you to harness your husband, show him how good things are up here. Let him see what he’s been missing, let him feel like you and him are a united front. You two will be the face of what structure must be, an example and reminder of what was and should be. To keep the structure, you must be structured.”

You coughed slightly around the cookie locked between your lips. Working with someone upon Wilford’s request was one thing, but annexing yourself to another person… What was the purpose of that? But there was a small voice growing louder in your head, reminding you that you needed to be on Curtis’ side if you wanted to survive longer than Wilford’s burial rites. Still, having to give up your freedom completely…

“Why marriage when I can simply work for him- like I do for you, sir?”

“Call me old fashion or an engineer of the future,” Wilford explained further, chucking regally at his choice of words. “Either way, I want you both devoted to each other and the train. Standards and images must be upheld, dear girl. You two will be married and form a united front- for generations to come. We need a little more Norman Rockwell than Kathe Kollwitz.”

Only receiving your silence to his humor, Wilford could tell you were not entirely on board with the marriage role. Why would useless established legalities of marriage be necessary in the confines of a wayward world? It wouldn’t.

Yes, he could easily weave the loom to have you aligned with Curtis as a business partner, but Wilford always liked a bit of extra flair. One extra churn from the pepper grinder for his food. You giving in and agreeing to an unnecessary marriage to Curtis, especially forgoing all reluctance to do so, would reassure Wilford of your loyalty to the train even when he’d no longer be in charge.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

He was determined to present the marriage to you in a way you wouldn’t be able to refuse for long. And fear was always a great motivator.

Classics were classic for a reason.

Wilford needed you linked with Curtis. He needed you alive. You were the key; one easy twist in a locked situation that would open resolution. Wilford needed to reward Curtis’ efforts for his revolt and still ensure his ideal vision of the train remained steadfast. You would be the soothing balm to both their burns.

Making sure you were taken care of when Wilford retired was not an act of deep affection or fatherly love, but rather an earned promotion.

A reward for your years of service and delivery of results. Your safety and success would be ensured if you remained in a powerful position. With you safe, you would continue to reap and sow order throughout the train. Your results exponential.

Wilford knew everyone’s history aboard his train. It was his way to keep all things in place, all order- organized and properly named.

Before Wilford gave you passage on the train, you were a gifted student winning science awards and scholarships; catching Wilford’s attention with your potential by winning one of his sponsored grants. Years later when he reviewed your file, the idea of an executioner position bloomed in his brain. He knew you would do perfectly, a vixen face with a delight for mixing chemicals.

Wilford knew human nature had its moments of people falling back to their more animalistic tendencies. But he thought the front end-ers still deserved a more humane and posh way of dealing with crime. Executions did not have to be so graphically unappealing.

Imagine is everything, and who better to administer those punishments than a charming lady? Afterall, the first-class passengers did pay an absorbent amount of money for the privileged to ride his train. Fine taste should be given and enjoyed- even until the final stop.

“Dear girl, this inconvenient uprising may not even become too successful. More than likely, it will end shortly after it’s begun, or when the tallies add up to the necessary sum. However, if there’s a hail mary of achievement, I need to know you agree. When you do, I’ll tell him to allow you to keep your position as executioner. That your role is needed as a giver of dignified death. Besides, I know you, dear girl. I know how much you need that outlet. How that power sings to you and helps ease your cabin fever. That hobby allows you to slip away for a moment- I don’t want you to be denied that peace in the future. Besides, a gift like yours? A gift like you? It would hard for Curtis to deny you much.”

“Is that all though?” Frowning at your cookie and picking away at a chip, smearing and streaking the soft chocolate across the pristine plate. “To keep-”

“You’ve known about the train’s unique replacement parts and protein bars. The careful balance needed to keep the wheels running on this godforsaken frozen track. The balance needed to be kept order between the tail and front ends. You see how kronole is supplied to keep residents distracted. You’re the someone who knows what really goes on, and most importantly, you’ve always reacted positively to my orders and vision. Don’t let me lose you, I want to keep you safe. I need you to do this for me, my dear girl. Agree and marry Curtis. If he makes it- you are my backup plan, my little piece of salvation. Protect him, so I can in turn protect you when I’ve retired. Humor an old man with his old ways.”

“Why not Claude?”

“She’s not the right choice for this. He won’t choose her, especially since she’s the one who measures the parts. You’re my ace in the hole, dear girl. Gilliam and I both agree. Curtis is going to favor you out of the others.”

You took a moment to think of Wilford’s proposition. Keep the order, help steer the new conductor- do what you’re always enjoyed. After all, Wilford just wants you to remain safe. There was a part of you still unsure about the arranged marriage. The idea of it being legal or not, it was unnecessary but you knew Wilford liked to make a show of things. You were tempted to ask more questions, but then you looked Wilford in the eyes.

This was your protector.

His benevolence and care saved you. His vision kept you alive.

Wiping your hand across the linen napkin, you agreed, “I’ll do it. I owe you my life and safety. You’ve allowed me to test my poisons and feed my creativity, sir. The train will remain balanced. First-class shall remain proper, even in their deaths as you’ve always said.”

Wilford winked at you before biting into the soft treat, “Excellent. We shouldn’t be savages to our own, dear girl.”

~~~

When rumors of the impending revolt drew closer, Wilford reminded you of your role in the contingency plan.

When the revolt birthed as fact, Claude collected you with a bit of blood still on her face as she told you Wilford needed to discuss what was happening immediately.

There were no warm chocolate chip cookies offered this time as you asked what spurred the revolt on quicker than what was anticipated, “Why now?”

Claude scoffed behind you, “Idiot. As if animals need a reason.”

The two of you always were odd acquaintances; a mutual honor among thieves that was heavily seasoned with mutual dislike. Stiffening in your seat and gathering your tolerance in with a deep breath, you waited for Wilford’s answer.

“It escalated when Claude went to measure and retrieve a new part.”

“So, he claims ownership of the part?” You quickly inquired. You didn’t think to ask Wilford earlier if Curtis had family of his own before you agreed to all this.

Wilford’s smile stretched broadly at your phrasing, claiming ownership. Yes, he was very pleased you had the right mentality.

Claude’s eyes darted between you and Wilford, hating how he viewed you a blue ribbon breeding bitch for his soon-to-be prized stud.

Trying to regain ground and favor, Claude chimed in confidently, “They are nothing, they own nothing. Wilford is the sole owner.”

Intrigued to see where this potential debate may lead, Wilford picked up his spoon and returned to enjoying the decadent chocolate mousse he started before your arrival.

Dinner theatre, he mused to himself. How he missed attending those outings.

Not bothering to correct or address Claude to her face, you stared straight ahead in Wilford’s direction, “They are not nothing, Claude. They have a role and a purpose. Perhaps, they have even more importance than a glorified bed warmer? Or even a polite poisoner? Without them fucking like animals, as you said, we wouldn’t have replacement pieces. Without their role and purpose, the sacred engine would fail and we would perish.”

Her silence gave you a small satisfaction.

Turning in your seat, you looked at her now, “Tell me Claude. If the sacred engine ever stops due to lack of replacement parts and you’re frozen, when your vagina’s as cold as your heart, who’s bed could you possibly warm then?”

Claude shot out of her seat, fully intending to warm the surface of table by smashing the side of your face down onto it as she stalked over towards your direction.

“Sit down, Claude!” Wilford pulled the silver spoon of his mouth and pointed it at her.

“But she-“

Wilford steamrolled over Claude’s protest, “Better yet, make better use of yourself. Get me and my guest another serving of dessert. Wait in the kitchen until I phone for you.”

Silence hung in the air as you felt Claude’s stare burn into the back of your head.

Finishing off the last bit of dessert, Wilford gave her another pointed look as the spoon knocked against the glass bowl, “Kitchen, Claude.”

With every stomp echoing out the boxcar, you knew she was plotting your demise.

“I’m almost looking forward to retirement. Refereeing you two is a task in itself.”

“Sorry, Wilford.”

“Nevermind about that, just remember our deal.”

“Always, sir.”

“You never did ask what he looks like,” Wilford stated.

You quirked an eyebrow, “Who?”

“Curtis, Mrs. Everett.” Wilford supplied with a wink.

“Loyalty’s blind. It doesn’t matter, I’ll do what you asked.”

“Hmm, love is also blind, dear girl,” Wilford pulled a piece of paper out from his coat pocket and slid it across the table. “Had this sketched for you, but details aren’t the best with it being done over the broadcast screen. Meet your husband.”

Unfolding the paper, you held no expectations. Hope was a stranger in a make-believe land at this point. But your hands stilled at attempting to flatten the page’s creases as you looked down at a pair of fierce, cutting eyes.

So this was Curtis Everett. The artist drew him in several different poses. Some standing and talking, while in other sketches he was sitting and silently watching. Each piece displayed an attractive man with an air of determination and raw intensity. Albeit a bit broken.

Nodding a thank you to Wilford, you refolded the sketches and placed them in your lap.

~~~

As Curtis began his venture to the head of the train, you and six uniquely different women were gathered in a designated boxcar to wait and see if the Curtis Revolution proved to be successful.

“You’ll remain here until further notice,” Claude informed the women in her care. “Don’t think about leaving. If something happens to you, you’re on your own.” Claude held her gaze on you specifically with that last part. “Wilford had the seamstress supply fancier dresses, pick one from the racks to wear later if things progress. Here are your numbers, pin them on yourself when the time comes. We’ll need to differentiate you somehow.”

“Because names wouldn’t help with that?” you asked dryly.

“Be quiet,” Claude hissed back.

Number Six squeezed her paper namesake with excitement, “Oh, new clothes. Magnifique! Look at how luxurious those evening gowns are. Oh, so dreamy! It’ll be like we’re on the red carpet for an awards show.”

You looked at Six in disbelief, how were you supposed to survive being cramped in this small room with people like her?

Hurry up, Curtis. Win or lose- make it quick.

“Red carpet?” asked number Three, the only train baby of the group.

“Be quiet, I don’t have time for stupid questions and even dumber people,” said Claude.

“Always so pleasant to be around you, Claude.”

“Shut up,” she sneered back at you as the other ladies silently slipped away.

You weren’t sure if the other women ignored your exchange with Claude because everyone was familiar to the open hostility between you two, or if they simply weren’t interested in anything that didn’t concern them directly. With the upper class mentality, you assumed it was the latter.

Blowing a kiss at Claude, you picked up one of the books that were put out beside the drinks and cheese tray.

Everything you’ve known for the last seventeen years hung in the balance, and the six other ladies didn’t have a single fret line across their foreheads. Here you were, waiting to see what the train’s fate might be and the others couldn’t tear themselves away from the servings of special occasion Gouda. Perhaps you weren’t much better, you thought as you ran your hand along the book’s embossed hardcover.

Boiling at the air kiss you threw, Claude cut through the racks of delivered dresses. Kicking an extra box of high heels out of her way, she ripped the book out of your hand.

“My, my, Claude. I see you’ve been working out. Manhandling baby-sized parts really improved your strength,” you antagonized while sitting down and crossing your legs.

Openly laughing at Claude’s temper only set her anger off more as she spat out her next words, “You’re a fucking bitch. I can’t wait to see him fail. When he doesn’t make it, you’ll be left behind right where you are. A discarded napkin on top a dirty pile of dinner plates. Stuck to remain a polite poisoner until you’re ended.”

Mocking your earlier words to her, she smirked at you for what she deemed a clever line. With your nose in the air, you blatantly eyed her from head to toe without responding. You slowly uncrossed your legs and gracefully leaned forward, a look of predatory smugness to your features when you saw her tense up. Suddenly, you snatched the book back out of her hands. Keeping your eyes locked on her, you opened the book and cracked the book spine into submission. Slowly, steadily you raised the book from your lap until it fully covered your chin, then your nose, and then your eyes from her view.

Behind the book’s binding you called out, “Claude, why do you continue to test me when you’re fully aware of how potent my poisons can be- and how well I can mix them into your meals? Don’t make me poison you at your next tea party.”

Claude was about to deliver a counter-threat when the phone hidden behind the wall seal rang. You both knew Wilford was watching, he always was.

“Ah, that ringing bell would be for you, dear Claude. Try not to slip on your saliva when you run to answer your master’s call, little dog,” you teased behind a copy of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

As Claude left, you listened to the other women gossip around the snack table. Wilford enjoyed keeping certain cards to his chest and your competition was a hand he didn’t want to show entirely. He said you’d be Curtis’ pick, so why give away unimportant details?

But you liked to be more practical. Knowing details, even little ones, helped you aim for the artery when plotting.

As they conferenced around the snack platter, you overheard why they agreed to participate in Wilford’s selection game and become a tail end-er’s wife. Some needed to repay their family’s debts or their own, others wanted to climb up in rank and gain as much power as possible. A shared answered was wanting a change of scenery on this limited-option train.

They were all lovely women in their own right. If Curtis ran the gauntlet successfully, he’d be rewarded with choosing one of you seven, shiny-eyed brides-to-be.

But as you looked over the options, you couldn’t help but think that your train deserved better. Especially since their only concern at the moment was to consume more Gouda.

The sounds of guards rushing down the aisle of the waiting car snapped you out of your dairy assessment. There was a part of you hoping Curtis would be successful. A small side tempted by the curiosity of what it meant to have a new conductor responsible for the sacred engine. But you were more worried on how a new conductor might not have the same vision as Wilford.

Wilford assured you Curtis would view the world as he did. Wilford believed Curtis to be his successor. So you reminded yourself: Trust in Wilford, so you can trust in Curtis.

But with your curiosity peeked, you left the room of selected women to check-in with the closest guard post. Frowning when you found the post empty, you were about to return to the waiting room when the monitor screen caught your eye. Figures on the grainy monitors showed guards wearing tactical attire as the train barreled to the bridge and into a new year. Masks covered their faces, minimizing human features so their anonymity would be more threatening.

The broadcast feed was not the best quality but you saw a tall man in the middle of the rebel pack on the other monitor. He matched Wilford’s sketch. The size of the group by him was much larger than you expected. Knowing the outcomes of the earlier revolts and rebellions, you thought this revolution would be another failure. Even with those determined, intense eyes of his. Internally scoffing at the idea you would become a widow before you were even married.

Honestly, despite Wilford’s backup plan for Curtis, you didn’t actually think it’d be possible for a tail end-er to make it this far. But there on the screen showed a massive number of rebels. How many more backend boarders were there?

Even with soil and blood-encrusted on him, the man was an attractive leader. You couldn’t help to grin slightly at the feral look plastered across Curtis’ face. Perhaps you had more in common with the third-class revolutionist than you realized.

Leaning into the screen as the attack played out, your breath fogged the monitor as you watched Curtis decide between obtaining his goal to capture Mason or save a fellow man. At the end of the slaughtering and witnessing Curtis’ choice of fatality, you were content with your agreement to Wilford’s chess game of marriage.

Turning away from the monitors, you slipped back into the waiting room to enjoy some Gouda.

Time seemed to pass slowly until Claude dropped off another tray of fruit and ordered everyone to get ready immediately, “Don’t leave this room. It’s too late to stop what’s happened, and now it’s your turn to help the train. I’ll be back shortly to lead you to the selection.”

The sound of the door closing behind her was like a gun sounding the start of a race. Six ladies frantically ran around the room crashing into one another, ripping garments off hangers and knocking items on the ground.

Rolling your eyes at the costume change commotion, you slipped out the door in hopes to eavesdrop on Wilford. After seeing Curtis on the monitor, you fantasized how or if he would accept his new role. Would he be curious and interested in the idea of being able to select a wife, or would he decline it?

---

“’…hold a woman with both arms…*’” Wilford jested.

Curtis looked so broken, nerves and bones exposed. The look of pain filling his eyes and the wordless shock of betrayal and disbelief across his face was not how you pictured this moment for him. Well, you pictured there would be shock, but not this level of absolute destruction.

Something happened to you then as you absentmindedly rubbed your breastbone, a dull ache starting to grow. This man, who was glorious and furious only a short time ago, now looked lost and lifeless. The dull pain continued along your bone and you could almost ignore the pain until he looked over at the wall you were spying behind. It felt like he knew you were there, pinning you in place with his agony as your own discomfort bloomed in your chest. The longer his eyes were in your direction, the more your chest hurt.

But that was crazy, you thought, of course he couldn’t see you. None of them knew you were there listening. Turning away from the hiding spot, you continued to rub your sternum as you made the way back to the ladies.

Reentering the room and seeing the group of potential wives was surreal; how the state of him and his clothes compared to the state of this self-indulgent mock harem. You knew Curtis’ story from Wilford’s files and the small-time you saw his takeover on screen. But to see the vast difference and pain of someone you might align yourself with while they stood before your own eyes- that was somewhat stomach-churning. Even for you.

Normally, you would capitalize on weakness. But Curtis’ pain had the opposite effect on you. Instead of the urge to squeeze, you wanted to hold.

Sitting down before the vanity, you observed the girls behind you in the mirror. Only two looked anxious about the upcoming selection. The other numbers looked like they were having an afternoon away, a short reprieve from the pressures of planning a charity fundraiser.

Number four looked high, kronole you suspected. Thank goodness she was wearing slip-ons. The state she was in you weren’t sure if she’d able to tie her own laces.

Looking at the candidates and remembering Curtis’ grief, your chest dully ached again. For a moment, you thought perhaps the two anxious girls understood the weight of the situation. But the longer everyone stayed in the waiting room, the more you overheard that their nervous whispers were only reservations in having to be in close quarters with a tail end-er.

None of these “I’ll write you a check” girls would do. They wouldn’t last against how feral and pained Curtis seemed. The train wouldn’t benefit with any of them by his side.

You clutched the lipstick case tighter in your hands as your thoughts swirled- none of these lunching ladies could steer Curtis the way the sacred engine deserved.

Despite Wilford’s promise of the selection being in your favor, seeing what Curtis could possibly select instead filled you with enormous dread for the train’s future. These women’s lack of ability and influence over Curtis would never do. They wouldn’t be able to protect him, wouldn’t be able to keep order on the train; Wilford’s vision would flatline.

You were not going to let one of these girls take your place with Curtis and squander the responsibility to keep the train stable. If Wilford believed there was something special about Curtis- that was enough for you to believe, too.

Looking over the inadequate girls, you selected Curtis for yourself.

Wilford reassured you were already Curtis’ type through Gilliam’s late-night chats and catching Curtis’ eye would easy, but you knew holding Curtis’ attention was another matter entirely. A man covered in filth day-in and day-out with limited choices and harsh conditions. You couldn’t imagine how overwhelming everything new must be to him. How everything shiny couldn’t be trusted.

Squinting at your appearance in the mirror, you pondered and planned. Reevaluating the competition, you examined yourself- clothes pressed, hair styled, makeup freshly painted- just like them.

Dropping your lipstick, you wiped your lips harshly and removed your eye makeup. Wetting a towel you wiped your neck, freeing your skin from the perfume. Fresh and clean-faced, you were slightly different than the other artistically painted ladies. Perhaps more approachable? You changed into the most modest evening gown you could find.

Claude opened the door and called for the seven of you to line up.

Taking the fifth spot in line, you waited for her next instructions. Claude surveyed over the seven offerings she was about to bring Wilford and stopped when seeing you. Running her eyes over you, she pursed her lips together.

Spinning on her heels, she called out while leaving the room, “Follow me, hurry up.”

~~~

When you floated in single file into the boxcar and lined up before Wilford, Curtis noticed you immediately. Weak from the fight, or from seeing you- a reminder of a life before the snow and ice, he stumbled slightly when stepping forward. You embodied the type of woman he fantasized about before CW-7 wiped out the world. And he began to feel an attraction he didn’t think he’d feel again.

As he walked closer to the numbered selection, Curtis stopped in front and looked each woman in the eye to see how they’d react to a lowly, dirty, tail end-er. A tail end-er who was now demanding respect. Counting the beats, he stared them down and waited to see if their movements gave way to any hints of judgment.

Option One seemed to be uncomfortable in her own skin, nervously rubbing the long sleeves of her dress. Was she nervous about the situation or him? Regardless, she wouldn’t do.

Number two was not his type, although she did hold her head high and make eye contact with him for the full time. Perhaps she’d be a civil option.

Three’s nostrils flared as soon as Curtis leaned into her view. Eliminated.

Four, well, he wasn’t sure if Four even knew what day it was, let alone where or why she was here. Discounted.

Five, Curtis tried to remind himself not to show how he already favored you from across the boxcar. Because up close, he wasn’t sure he could remain stoic in front of you for long. An odd feeling of being lost and found was stirring around his gut at the moment.

This foreign, mixed feeling made Curtis frown slightly before he was able to school his features. Seeing Curtis’ frowned reaction to you, Wilford made a small step forward towards the lineup. His own worry slightly showing before he was able to place back his mask for benevolent indifference. Claude gripped the gun in her pocket tighter, gleeful that you might fail Wilford and not gain a higher position.

Curtis never had any use for poetry but here you were right in front of him, something so incredibly unattainable that was now so easily in his grasp. The accessibility to having you made him unsure of himself. He was drawn to you when you entered the room, but having you so close, he knew he’d choose you. Fresh-faced and different from the others, you quirked an eyebrow and tilted your head slightly at him as if you ask, “yes?”

Curtis bit the inside of his cheek, trying to ground himself and not give away his interest. As he did with the earlier numbers, he crowded into your personal space and stared, hard.

His mistake, because that was the instant a voice whispered in his head, mine.

That forgotten feeling of sexual possessiveness slowly started infecting Curtis. At least that was how he related this estranged desire, an infection. A limb waking after being denied blood flow for too long, pins and needles racing across his skin. A drop in the middle of a pond, causing ripples to fold out to opposite sides of the banks. Seeing you from afar and now smelling your light, teasing scent sent a sensation of twists and turns to his stomach making him light-headed and his cock twitch.

He became lost in the thought of you laying next to him. Your lips bruised from kissing and your scent on his clothes as he’d tell you to dip your hands inside your panties for him. He’d praise you as you’d moan next him, watching you pleasure yourself.

You were drawing Curtis in deeper into the web of the sacred, eternal engine. And Wilford looked on you both like a proud matchmaker and smug creator.

Stepping away from you reluctantly, Curtis moved to number Six and looked her in the eyes as well. From the corner of his vision, he watched your reaction as he brought his hand up to fix the strap of Six’s dress. Uninterested in Six’s hitch in breath, he concentrated on how you kept yourself facing straight ahead but narrowing your eyes in annoyance. Satisfied on seeing a reaction from you when he touched another, he moved to number Seven and repeated his action by fixing her shawl.

Turning away from Seven, Curtis never looked back at you or the other candidates. Instead, he made his way to the chair he sat in before you entered.

After Claude escorted your group back into the waiting car, Wilford sat down across from Curtis and pulled out seven numbered files, “I’ll let you review.”

“Five,” Curtis stated without touching any of the folders.

Nodding at Curtis’ choice, Wilford fixed the lapels of his robe and leaned forward to rest his clasped hands on top of the desk. “Excellent choice, dear boy. But in the sense of honor and one passing the so-called baton, you’ll need to know your soon-to-be wife’s job aboard our, well, your sacred engine.”

Wilford watched Curtis’ reactions closely as he explained how you helped maintain order and delivered a well-mannered serving of absolute punishment to any upper class rule breakers.

Wilford spoke poetically; Curtis listened intensely.

“I’ll give you a moment to think it over. But remember what I said, it is a marriage. The contract between you both will be followed because we need structure, social form. There’s an image to uphold. Once you select who you want, that’s it. They’ve all agreed to this.”

“So why did she?” Curtis asked before he could think better not to.

Wilford knew this question had been bouncing around in Curt’s busy little head for a while, “She enjoys her job and she enjoys your train. She knows how people are.”

“She likes to murder and punish.”

Wilford tsked and rolled his eyes, “Stop being dramatic, Curtis. She enjoys order and knows responsibilities. She is a good person to have on your side, especially in our high position of power.”

“So you want me to use her as protection?”

“She is structure. Besides, you can’t deny she’s more than easy on the eyes. More importantly, dear boy, she’s someone you can trust. And it’s sad to see you without anyone to trust nowadays.”

Curtis cut a sharp glare at Wilford, “And who the hell played me the whole way?!”

Sighing noisily, Wilford rose from the table and came around to Curtis’ chair.

“I understand you’re upset about Gilliam. But she didn’t have anything to do with his choices. If anything, choose something in the opposite direction of what I’m offering then. Number Four seems like an easy girl to mold,” Wilford patted Curtis’ shoulder ready to leave and allow him some time to think alone. “Is number Four the type you want to be saddled with? Do you have enough kronole?”

Curtis ignored Wilford’s baiting question as he read your file history and achievements. “Why is she the executioner?”

“'It’s easier for someone to survive on this train, if they have some level of insanity,*’” Wilford shrugged casually.

Curtis frowned slightly at that understandable line, absentmindedly rubbing the scar on his arm.

“Think it over, Curtis. You two would be amazing together. You went with your gut and made it to the front end. You went with your gut and picked the best girl out of the seven. Make the best choice for yourself and your sacred engine. Would you like some water while you decide?”

Curtis ignored Wilford’s question. He looked at your old photo from when you boarded and a more recent sketch of you now. Running a dirty finger across your detailed sketch, his cock twitched in his pants again as he traced your painted lips.

Wilford set the tall glass of water down in front of Curtis, and with a flare that only Wilford possessed, dropped a single ice cube in the drink.

“Are you fucking serious?” Curtis growled after seeing a bullet frozen in the cube.

“Take your time to think it over. Read the note. The choice is yours, my dear boy. I’ll be back after it melts.”

The door closed behind Wilford and Curtis’ breath hitched in his chest.

Alone, quiet.

Curtis tried to compose himself in the eerie solitude. When locked in the tail section, he prayed for solitary confinement. A moment of silence. Now alone, he wasn’t sure what was worse.

Curtis raised the water glass up to the light and watched the prism paint the walls, choking out an uncomfortable laugh deep within. Gulping down the water, he spat the ice cube into his palm. Dirt began to run and channel along the lines of his palm.

Having enough of Wilford’s games, Curtis threw the ice cube on the floor and stomped on it.

He twisted the bullet casing apart and stilled his hands for a moment before unrolling the note to read the message.

Blank.

Asshole.

Curtis looked over at Wilford as he came back into the room. He didn’t say anything about the blank message, determined not to give him any more entertainment.

“Number Five,” Curtis stated, pushing the closed folder back across the table. Your pictures safely tucked inside his pocket.

“Excellent! Wise choice. Wait here and I’ll call Claude to show you to your new living quarters, there’s a private bath and a large bed for the soon-to-be-married couple. You’ll find out soon enough, but your soon-to-be misses and Claude aren’t the best-,” Wilford chuckled at the memories. “-Well, you’ll find out that detail out for yourself. What’s the fun in hearing everything secondhand?”

Curtis ran his hands over his face, not sure what to make of all that’s happened within these last days aboard the eternal engine.

Wilford snapped his fingers, making a show as if he forgot something and patting the pockets of his robe, “A piece of marital advice, dear boy. Your soon-to-be wife is more clever at making you feel welcomed than you know.”

Wilford pulled a tube of lipstick out of his pocket and rolled it across the desk. Curtis eyed the cylinder, trying to understand what Wilford was hinting at.

And then he knew.

Your sketch burning a hole in his pocket with your painted lips. Tapping the end of the lipstick on the table, it was that small detail he favored about you over the others. You were the only fresh-faced lady in the bunch.

---

The soft, classical music became a white noise as you looked out the dining car window and allowed yourself to relax. White noise, whiter scenery.

Dabbing the crisp linen napkin to the corner of your soft mouth, you arched a sleek eyebrow in anticipation.

Across the table, the slumped body finally lost to gravity and fell hard against the lace tablecloth as the train jostled and creaked itself out of a turn. The heavy weight of the fresh corpse shook the table causing a melody to play out on the fine China, vibrating a song of disturbance.

Huffing softly at your former dinner companion’s poor manners for falling face-first into his plate, you placed your hands on the table to settle the dinnerware’s rattling tantrum. Taking in the accomplished sight of your fresh kill, you gracefully held the teacup and saucer and brought the warm liquid up to the cold smirk on your lips.

Before settling back into the plush chair, you grabbed a cookie and closed your eyes to enjoy a moment of unsupervised silence.

“What did I tell you the last time you asked to do this?”

Shit.

Opening your eyes, you saw Curtis slide the dining car door close behind him, locking both doors on the keypad. His boots echoing loudly with each step as his eyes pinned you in place. His barely concealed anger immediately caused irritation to run down your spine.

“I don’t recall, please be more specific,” you couldn’t help but douse your words in annoyance before taking another sip of tea.

Why did he have to visit the dining car so soon? He was supposed to be having meetings with the security and maintenance departments. Swirling the remnants of tea, you couldn’t help but feel cheated that Curtis walked in and stole a bit of your alone time away.

The more you thought about the peace and quiet now lost, you rolled your eyes in the direction of the slowly chilling body across from you. Why did he always have to ask questions to obvious answers? Anyone would have known what you were doing here, the dead body gave it away for christ's sake. There was not much to deduce. He had always known what your tastes were like when he selected you- that was part of the deal. So for him to keep stifling your gifts over the last several weeks had become unacceptable. Looking over at the dead man’s ruffled hair you couldn’t help but snicker how things finally came to a head, so to speak.

Curtis narrowed his eyes at the sound of your soft laughter, “Watch yourself.”

Keeping in a sigh of vexation, you placed down your teacup and crossed your arms over your chest. Maybe if you restrained yourself, you could keep the displeasure you felt with Curtis about his lack of action concerning the poisoned body in front of you.

And then the thought dawned on you, “Seems your meetings ended earlier than I anticipated.”

Curtis shook his head at your blasé attitude of being caught doing something he specifically told you not to do.

“So sorry to interrupt your time with such a wonderful conversationalist,” he mocked, waving a disinterested hand at the body, “Things worked out better than you anticipated?”

“No, not as well as I anticipated,” you added back, giving him a pointed look. “Obviously didn’t have enough time to move the body before you found me.”

“I’ll always find you what you’re doing, you’re mine. My responsibility,” Curtis stated seriously.

Before you had time to enjoy the way his claim warmed you, he moved on and mentioned how Claude was currently overseeing the maintenance meeting.

You realized then Claude must have known what you had planned for your dead dinner guest, Vardo, and squealed to Curtis.

Seizing a bread roll from the basket, you roughly tore off a chunk between your sharp teeth. The longer you pictured Claude’s face, the harder you chewed. Your resentment for the woman mixed itself in with the taste of butter and sesame.

Claude liked to be an accessory to anyone with power. She only remained loyal to a person with sturdy purse strings, climbing the social ladder within the front end until she was able to get close enough to catch Wilford’s eye. You remembered how Wilford’s open position for a parts measurer was between her and another woman, Livia. Claude received the promotion and Livia avoided everyone for the next two weeks.

Shy and quiet, Livia didn’t speak a lot. Which seemed like a winning trait for someone who would measure humans to fill the role of replacement parts to the grand machine. But the reality of how the train was able to still run after these long 17 years was too much for Livia.

Upon finding out, she suffered hysterics and refuse to eat; crying for hours and mumbling incoherently about locks and gears, tumblers and bolts, little bodies and broken bones. Wilford was becoming increasingly agitated that her outbursts might happen in public and upset others. He said something needed to be done to ensure the grand secret of the sacred engine would not be revealed. During all this, Claude was increasingly delighted how Livia’s breakdown worsened each day.

Before the end of the second week and with Wilford’s concerns in mind, you convinced Livia to visit the club car and have a girls night with you. In between dancing, she told you how Claude was leaving notes with measurements and little tools on the food trays she brought to Livia’s room. Becoming so upset, she wouldn’t be able to eat. Even high on kronole, she didn’t give away details of what she saw or had to do during the job interview.

But her fate was all too late.

She mumbled once too much wine, “Never sanitize soul, not clean.”

Frowning at her jumbled words, you poured her more wine, “You’ll find peace soon, dear girl.”

The poison took her mercifully quick.

The bread roll circled and wobbled around your plate after you tossed it aside. You would never allow Claude to get too close to Curtis. You did care for Curtis, probably more than you were comfortable to admit. Besides, there was limited space for suggestions in Curtis’ head. Your voice held residency along with Wilford’s, and even Gilliam’s, words. You weren’t about to give any elbow room for Claude to whisper ideas to Curtis also.

When the train first started its maiden voyage, you tried to remain civil to Claude but she always gave off an air of unearned self-righteousness. And after what Livia told you, civility was barely hanging on.

Growling at your stubbornness, Curtis came closer to your side of the table. “I told you to give me time. Trust me like you trusted in Wilford. I would have given you what wanted soon enough.”

The memory of Livia still fresh in your mind, you snapped back at him, “Loyalty is what you were promised, but I don’t owe you patience or trust.”

Curtis narrowed his eyes at your attitude. He knew he overindulged your unique desires, but disrespect was something he would not allow. “Knock it off, dear wife. Act like a loving spouse and not a mediocre black widow.”

“Mediocre,” you scoffed at his comparison, “I could knock you off, you know. But what good would that do me, Curtis? I’m not sure I have enough poison for everyone on this train. At the moment.”

“You’re acting like a damn brat,” he muttered, annoyed and bitter at the thought you were still only with him for protection.

“I’m not the one continually breaking promises and then asking for the other spouse to keep believing in them,” you countered back, stomping your feet under the table and crossing your arms over your chest again.

“What, did Claude scurry over to you and rat me out?” You slapped your hands on the table and pitched your voice nasally high to mock, “'Oh, I’ll help you great and powerful ruler. I’ll run the meetings for you.‘”

Sneering at what you imagined Claude’s words might have been to him.

“I took out the garbage for you, Curtis. Vardo’s rumors would have hurt you. You could thank me instead of reprimanding me on how you didn’t sign off on this.”

You truly were a murderous brat.

Most passengers didn’t bother to recognize or question that the shiny new conductor next to you was also the dirty blood-covered rebel monster, who smashed through their glasshouse.

Truthfully, most didn’t care as long as their food was warm and their shit was flushed. Some believed so much in Wilford’s vision, they’d never question Wilford’s prophetic news that Curtis was their new conductor.

But some others did want to question. However, they knew better than to ask; except one, your dead dinner companion, Vardo.

Most believed the revolution was squashed and the rebels snuffed out. That the rebellious end-ers were tagged and placed back in their cages.

So when your freshly deceased guest started making inappropriate advances and asking too many questions at too many tables, you invited him to sup at yours.

Because if there was something you knew how to do, it was to tie up loose ends with a soft smile and a kind offer of something to drink. Every time you asked Curtis if you could take Vardo out for dinner, he would only reply- 'Soon.’

You finally got tired of waiting for Curtis’ permission and listening to Vardo’s rumors about the lack of skills the new conductor possessed.

And Curtis’ current lack of thankfulness towards you was pissing you off, “If you want out of the marriage, let me know.”

Curtis frowned at your obscene words, “What are you fucking talking about?”

“I’m not ignorant or daydreamy, Curtis. I know everyone on this train has a purpose and when that purpose or if room runs out, so will my usefulness. Besides, I’m already a shit listener if that dead weight across the table counts for anything. Maybe what I offer isn’t purposeful enough? Maybe we run out of room on the train again and I don’t make it past the cutoff number? Sure I could be safe if the number was 73% like last time. But there’s so many hypothetical questions. Wait, what was that deduction percent again?”

“74.” Curtis answered without a thought but then immediately looked harder at you.

Smirking slightly you carried on, “Ah yes, that’s correct. 74%. See, there wouldn’t be enough room for me. And the inevitable would happen again for Wilford’s wish of order to remain.”

Curtis’ jaw shifted at your words, he knew you were damn well aware the number was 74%. You were always off to prove a fucking point, but he wasn’t about to entertain the idea of you not being by his side. The notion that you could be separated from him brought a jab to his stomach he wouldn’t ignore.

He was owed this companionship, he was owed you.

He owned you.

He knew there was more to you that day during the selection. No hesitation or disdain when he leaned into your proximity. The silent challenge you gave him. There was something behind your expression, something he was still curious about exploring.

When Wilford revealed to him what your role was on the train, Curtis knew he found the connection, a shared portion of darkness. You offered a safe harbor to him for what he had done in the past and an understanding of what he’d have to do in the future.

He swore he wouldn’t lose you to any conflict- mathematical, mechanical, or man.

Curtis called your name as he calmly stacked the dishes in front of you and moved them aside.

He looked too calm to you, especially after walking in on you with a dead body. His features were cool as he nodded for you to give him the teacup sitting out of his reach.

As he continued to pile the dishes down the table towards Vardo’s body, you remembered how well acquainted Curtis was with death. Surviving all those years in the end section and massacring his way up to the front, one mere non-bloodied body wouldn’t give him much pause. It was you not waiting for his permission concerning the execution that soured his mood.

“I want an answer. Why did you do this, when I denied you my approval?”

“There was nothing to approve, I didn’t ask for your consent… this time,” you grumbled softly with admission.

“Oh, I know that dear wife,” he clicked his tongue at your retort. “You’ve been a goddamn worm in my ear about him for weeks but suddenly go radio silent about him? I knew you were up to something.”

“How did you even know I was here working?”

“A few things. The first, Claude mentioned you were having an intimate dinner with someone who wasn’t your husband.”

“Busy-bodied bitch,” you mumbled. “Hardly intimate. As you can see, it was work.”

Leaning forward and removing a sugar cube from the bowl, you tossed it at your dead dinner guest.

Watching it land down the back of his collar, you continued, “It’s been riveting conversation, too. What were the other few things?”

“She isn’t the only busy body here. Don’t waste food,” Curtis picked the sugar cube out of the man’s collar and tossed it in the air, catching it in his mouth.

“It looks like it was plenty intimate to him,” Curtis kicked Vardo’s chair leg with his heavy boot. “Asshole’s sporting a fucking death erection.”

“What?” Sliding your gaze under the table, you saw Vardo’s pants tented. “Pft. That’s just the poison, not the conversation.”

“I still don’t fucking like it, y/n.” Curtis stated darkly.

You shifted in the chair suddenly uncomfortable on where this conversation may lead, especially with the tone he just used. Recalling what he said shortly ago, you tried to move on, “What did you mean about Claude not being the only busy body?”

“I find it surprising you have to ask that, especially when you’re so busy keeping such thorough records of everyone’s conduct.”

Surprised by his discovery, you tried to figure out when he may have found your notebooks. You knew you never mentioned the records you kept concerning the passengers to him, the scorecards on who should receive punishment when they tallied up too many transgressions.

“Wilford told me. Relax, I can hear the gears moving in your head so loudly, they’re drowning out the sound of the train’s.”

“...Why did he?”

“You already know how Wilford explained what your job was to me before I was allowed to pick you. But he told me other things I didn’t mention to you. He said you’d record events, a little homicide journaling. He described it as a dear death diary on why you wanted someone removed. But more fucking importantly, dear wife- he said you always ran punishments by him before carrying them out. But this one, you didn’t run by me.”

Not yet ready for Curtis to know how sincerely you cared for him, you opted for a vague reply, “This was because of personal reasons.”

“Yes, murders usually happen due to those.”

Huffing at his dry reply, you couldn’t help but feel exposed after hearing Curtis read your records. “When did you find them?”

“Two months ago, after Wilford’s death,” he smirked down at you. “I can keep secretes, too. Glad you finally did Vardo in. Took you long enough though.”

“What?” Your head snapped up from shock.

“I read about the inappropriate comments he made to the men and women in the working section. How he made similar comments to you. How they were increasing, making others more uncomfortable. I was pissed to read the fucking things he said to you, but even more when you didn’t come to your husband and say what was happening.”

“Nothing happened, this was work. Trash removal.”

“Oh, I know that dear wife,” Curtis ran his finger down the column of your neck and over your shoulder.

You could feel yourself respond to his touch, goosebumps and tingles.

Curtis leaned into the shell of your ear as he confessed against your skin, “I made sure to encourage him.”

Breaking out of the soft lull his touch put you in, you slapped his hand away and stood. “What are talking about, encouraging? What did you do?”

“I encouraged Vardo to pursue you. Told him to spread the rumors and concerns about me. Told him if he was able to get my wife to cheat on me and expose your lack of loyalty, I’d reward him for exposing the snake in the garden,” Curtis stepped in closer to you, moving his hand back to your neck and tracing the length of your soft throat with this thumb, “He was the snake. Not you, never you.”

You couldn’t believe what Curtis was admitting. “Why would you do that? I haven’t given you any reason to think I’d break my marital agreement to you, Curtis.”

“Not for that reason.”

“Then what reason?!”

“A wedding present.”

“What.”

“You enjoy doing what you do, so I let you, dear wife. Everything you do, I let you do. I read how little you could stand him. Anyone could tell how much you disliked Vardo, except Vardo.” Curtis watched your shock take over as you tried to process everything. “Vardo was stupid. Stupid enough to think he’d gain anything by going after us. After you. I told him to spread the rumors, prove to me how my dear wife wasn’t faithful. He objected, in the beginning, believed it was a trap. But when I offered him the chance to sleep with you- he agreed greedily.”

“…You set him up to see if he would sleep with me?”

“No, sweetheart. I set you up... to see how loyal you’d be to me.”

Snarling at his words, you smacked his hold on you, “Aren’t you just fucking splitting hairs, husband?”

Moving his hand tighter around your neck, you felt his thumb press into your windpipe. “Mind that bratty attitude. Vardo was fucking stupid, not knowing how tail end-ers are possessive. No one gets to covet my wife.”

As he pushed his thumb harder in your skin, you dipped your head back to gain a breath to speak, “You orchestrated all this?”

“You’re welcome,” Curtis lifted his thumb, relieving the pressure on your windpipe as he dropped his lips to your clavicle.

His touch and confession slammed into your core. Gasping at the feel of his lips, your hands wrapped around his wrists, squeezing them to encourage him to keep the pressure on your throat. Lowly moaning when he did.

Curtis knocked his knee between your legs and grazed your center with his thigh. Moving his thigh back and forth against your clothed clit, you bit your lip when you heard him say, “Rub.”

Rolling your hips against him, Curtis chuckled at your pleasure.

“Good girl.”

He dipped you back against the table as he sucked your neck harder between little sharp bites and kisses, “How wet are you, sweetheart? Grinding that pretty pussy against my thigh. I want to see how desperate you are.”

Your hips jolted up, lost in the smooth and steady twisting of his words.

“Fuck,” you gasped out.

Freeing a hand from your neck, Curtis ran his touch down along your body. Sliding his hand under your skirt, he bunched the material up your hips and licked his lips when he saw the large wet spot on your panties. Moving the damp material aside, he grazed his finger along your slick folds.

Your breath hitched at the contact and the darkness in his eyes.

Curtis teasingly twirled his fingers around your inner thighs, lightly circling your clit. “Can you purr?”

Not waiting for an answer, Curtis kissed you and dipped a finger into your pussy.

He bit your lip and hungrily moved to swirl his tongue over yours. Everything was vibrating in you, a fight of dominance and battle for acceptance.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let some of that tension go,” he encouraged, sliding a second finger into you.

Your resistance weakening, the grazing of his thumb circling your clit- you wanted to melt for him.

Bringing a leg up off the table, you hooked it around his waist and mewled at the sensations he was creating in you by the furious rate his fingers worked you.

Curtis began to slowly scissor you, only pausing his kisses to see your reaction better, “Fuck. You’re so beautiful. That’s it, sweetheart, squeeze my fucking fingers.”

“Please,” you whimpered, extending your other leg out as you tried to gain more friction.

He held your hips down against the table, “Look at you, so beautiful and wet. All fucking mine. My fucking reward.”

“I’m going to cum,” you squeezed the words out past your lips as your walls tightened around Curtis’ fingers.

“No, you’re not. Not yet.” Pulling his fingers away from your pussy, Curtis chuckled deeply at your forlorn expression. “I want to be inside you when you do.”

Bringing his wet fingers up to his mouth, he groaned in pleasure from the taste of you before pulling you off the table.

Kissing you possessively, Curtis’ tongue willed for access to your mouth again. You could taste yourself as you feverishly returned his kiss.

Without warning, he turned you around and bent you over the table. Your stomach seizing from the cold surface while your ass was fully on display in the air.

Yelping in surprise you felt Curtis kick your legs farther apart. Stepping between your soft thighs, Curtis grabbed your legs off the floor as your torso warmed the table underneath your skin. You heard him free himself from his pants and groan deeply.

He ran his hands up and down your legs unable to touch enough of you as he moved your knees back. Praising and kneading your ass cheeks, your heels hovered over your bottom as Curtis locked your folded legs underneath each of his arms. You felt his tip run along your slit, the head of his cock parting your wet lips. Grabbing your hips and with one strong thrust without warning, Curtis buried himself into you.

The table shook with every claiming thrust as Vardo’s body rocked against the fine china on the other side of the table. Curtis pinned his eyes on the corpse before dropping his gaze on your back.

Curtis railed into you harder, “Say you’re mine.”

Moaning at his command and losing yourself in him, you only whimpered in reply. You never felt like this before. You moved your hand behind yourself, trying to feel his hips, his hands, anything.

“No.” Curtis grabbed your blindly-reaching hand and covered his over yours, bring them down on the table. Locking you in place again, his stomach brushed against your back. The sounds of his balls slapping against you echoed throughout the dining car. Perched over you with more leverage, Curtis moved faster in and out of your tight cunt.

“Say it,” another snap of his hips, another long hard drag of his cock along your pussy. “Fucking say you’re mine!”

“Yours,” you finally panted out, your face flattened against the tablecloth that was crumpled in your fists. “Always.”

Curtis almost lost himself when he felt you squeeze your walls around his cock, throwing his hard thrusting off.

“Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum right that fuck now. Fucking milk my cock.” His soft-toned, harsh words made you close your eyes as you screamed his name out in release.

Feeling your pussy tighten and flutter around his cock made Curtis bit his lip and drop your legs. Smacking his hands down on either side of your head, he encased your body with his grunts. All you could focus on when you opened your eyes were the muscles of his forearms flexing in your view as he rutted into you.

The sounds of Curtis fucking and using you to chase his release caused your body to tighten up again. Dropping his weight on top of your back, he snapped and slammed his hips into you. His primal moans set a ripple through you, your eyes rolling back as another orgasm took over causing your tight count to flutter around him again.

Growling out your name, he coated your walls, “Mine. You’re mine.”

Opening your eyes with sigh, you laughed softly at the window you and Curtis managed to fog up next to the table.

After catching his breath, Curtis propped his weight onto his forearms and kept himself within you. He wasn’t ready to pull out and let you go just yet.

The cool air hit your skin when slightly move off your back. Bowing down gently, Curtis kissed your sweaty shoulders making you shudder when he rocked against your sensitive core.

Basking in the aftermath of Curtis slowly softening within you, you realized how much you were willing to do to protect your husband. It was no longer just about the train.

“No more secrets between us. Understood, dear wife?”

“Understood, dear husband.”

“Good. It might be time to invite Claude for dinner,” Curtis said before kissing the back of your neck.

[mor-beck-more-problems]

The Two Fingers of Death || Morgan & Gabriel

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @bugbearnecessities & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Gabriel needs a snack and tries out a new scare in the English department offices, to unexpected results.

CONTAINS: slight zombie body horror

“I can't believe that bitch flunked me!”

Gabriel was not supposed to be in the ladies room, and he honestly felt bad about it. Normally he did his best to respect people's boundaries, especially those involving very intimate ceremonies like make-up fixing, gossip sharing and any other mysterious ritual that normally went on in the ladies' bathroom. But he had no choice, really: it'd been far too long since his last feeding, and between that and his natural instinct to just nap the winter away, his energy level was dangerously low, so he needed a little pick me up, ASAP.

And the ladies' room, he'd found, was the best place to get a quick fix: Gabriel only needed to hide in one of the stalls, conjure up the illusion of a giant spider and BAM. Instant snack, with high-pitched shrills on the side. But not this time, apparently. No, this time the two girls washing their faces were too focused on their angry rant against Professor Beck to pay his fake Charlotte any mind, not even when he made the spider dance. The girls sounded so genuinely pissed that for a moment Gabe forgot all about his hunger and just listened intently. Apparently Professor Beck hadn't been particularly impressed with Jessica's essay about The Tell-tale Heart, and frankly Gabriel hated the idea that Jessica could be turned off that masterpiece forever just because of a misunderstanding with her teacher. And truth be told, he was looking for a decent meal... Professor Beck was no murderer, but ruining Poe for young minds all over campus was two steps away from a federal offense, as far as he was concerned.

With that thought in mind, Gabriel waited for the two girls to go away and then he left the bathroom. A quick internet search later, he made his way to the professor's office, knowing that she'd probably be inside. He stood in the hallway in front of her door for a few minutes, waiting for the perfect moment and then, when no one else was in sight, he bent down to spy from the keyhole and focused intently, projecting his magic inside the professor's office.

Morgan cherished her office hours no matter what: if any of her students got over their anxiety enough to come visit, she had a chance to get to know them and put in enough help and suggestions to make whatever homework they turned in after more interesting; if they didn’t, she had some time alone to get her work done,  have fewer things to take home, and listen to some her playlists that didn’t get as much airtime around the house. Today was the latter, and Morgan’s only concern was making sure she didn’t write down the lyrics to “Ivy” while she was trying to respond to her students’ questionnaires. There’s no shame in liking Twilight, she wrote, Looking forward to seeing what your thoughts will be when we get to Carmilla! She got through a few more like this, singing along under her breath since the Medievalist Bros were out doing stars only knew what. Her timer went off. Morgan jolted from the switch between Taylor Swift to the X-Files theme, hard enough that one of her earbuds fell out and rattled to the far side of her desk. Morgan chased it with her hand, only then noticing the bright, bleeding heart on her desk.

She yelped with surprise and scanned the room. “Hello? Is this, uh...for me?” Morgan hadn’t seen anyone come in with a special delivery. But then again, whoever had been tasked with it might’ve been too grossed out to ask questions or stick around. Deirdre was usually more discreet than this when she sent presents over, but sometimes she used her promise binding powers to be a little dramatic. Morgan laughed fondly, remembering a small candy box of eyeballs. “Babe, you shouldn’t have…” she sighed, and reached for the snack, which called to her the same way chocolate cake had when she was alive. Morgan reached and--nothing.

Morgan couldn’t stifle her whine of disappointment, but now there were more pressing problems. “Okay,” she called, louder this time and mildly irritated. “Now I know you’re hiding. Come on out!”

Gabriel had to stifle a villainous chuckle (or, well, the closest thing to a villainous chuckle he could muster) as he waited impatiently for the screaming and the flood of energy that'd follow. Alright, maybe a still beating heart was a bit much, but hey, she was a Lit professor, she had to appreciate the poetic justice in that, right? In any case he'd make it up to her somehow, anyone who listened to the X-Files theme couldn't be so bad after all, and...

Gabriel frowned. There was no screaming, no delicious fear. Why was there no fear, the woman had a freaking human heart on her desk! Granted, hearts were fascinating, Gabriel couldn't wait for the embalming classes to start just so he could maybe see one up close, but most people were at least a little squeamish about them. Was Professor Beck actually... Something else? Blood-thirsty murderer? No, it couldn't be: she'd also been listening to TSwift, and most comments he'd read about her on ratemyprofessors.com actually depicted her as a sweet, caring person. Then again, wasn't that what neighbors always said about serial killers? I never thought he'd be capable of something like that, he was always so nice...

The theory was starting to look more promising as Gabriel watched through the keyhole. She was trying to grab the heart, holy crap! And when her hand just passed through the illusion she looked... Disappointed? Gabriel was so confused that it took him a few moments to realize she'd called out to someone, to him. He hesitated. Should he just go away? That would be the wisest course of action, for sure. But then again, if Professor Beck was a serial killer wasn't it his duty to expose her? He, unlike most people, had the means to defend himself against a crazy murderer, after all. And also he was still so hungry. His mind made up, Gabriel took a deep breath and opened her door, his steps far more boisterous than he actually felt.

“I wasn't hiding!” Gabriel mentally slapped himself. Of all the things he could have said, that was going to be his first line to the very first potential serial killer he'd ever met? Lame. And then he added “Dude, you do realize that's a human organ, right? Like, from an actual person. With a hole in their chest. And it's bleeding all over your papers. Doesn't that... Scare you? Please be a little scared, please.” Even just slightly grossed out. And then he realized what he'd just said. “Uh, I mean... That's a human heart, professor.” Hunger was no excuse to ignore someone's academic accomplishments, not even those of a serial killer.

The door opened and Morgan reached for her bag. Salt, knife, iron, they were all still in there, even if she didn’t want to use them. A dozen different possibilities flickered past her head. Was this a trap? A hunter trap? Some magic critter she’d never heard of? Morgan was alone, and if it hadn’t been for her earbud falling out, she might not have heard anyone come in. This world was cruel and bloody and maybe she was an idiot after all for setting aside her combat training---But then the door opened a little wider and there was just a kid. A college kid, twenty-one at most. Not one of hers, although he did have that awkward intellectual vibe that her more enthusiastic boys held. But he didn’t flaunt that archetype like them, he hadn’t finished growing into himself yet. He wore his presence like a suit that hadn’t been tailored yet, a little oversized in some places and a little too tight in others. But maybe he was just flustered, and she was reading too much to give her mind something to do while she came down from the surprise. Morgan looked from him to the phony heart and back again. Scared?

“Uhhh…”

Granted, most people probably would. The Medievalist Bros absolutely would, even though they loved to posture about how ‘sick’ some of their favorite comic books were when it came to gore. But this was White Crest, people were weird, everything was weird. Please be a little scared, please. And it was only then that Morgan remembered the last time she had been startled by illusion magic: in her family’s old haunted house, the day she’d met Nora.

“It’s...so gross. Nasty, ooey, gooey, gross...thing! Aaaah!” Morgan eyed the boy as she tried to scream. But her heart wasn’t in the charade, she was too focused on the idea of there being another Nora in White Crest and what it was about her that made her seem so yummy to them. Sighing, Morgan deflated. “I’m sorry. I actually kind of…like this stuff.” Especially for dessert. “And it’s actually pretty good looking! More true to life than most movies. Actually, I was too caught up in the visual to know it was pulsing, but that is a really great touch. And um….” Oh, stars, he didn’t think she was being patronizing, did he? He was so young, and she didn’t want to crush his confidence. “Look, it’s not you. Really. Anyone more a...well, anyone different from me in this office and you would’ve really had something. And I’m not just saying that! But, if we’re going to be coming clean about our respective supernatural secrets, you should probably come inside and close the door.”

Gabriel appreciated the effort, truly, but Professor Beck's fake groans were doing nothing to quench his thirst for some genuine shivers. And in truth her act could even get him in trouble: someone might pass by, hear a teacher scream (albeit unconvincingly) and think he was attacking her or something. Which he was, technically, but not in a 'this might get you expelled' sort of way. So even though he was still more than a little disappointed his illusion hadn't sorted the desired effect, Gabe let out a sigh of relief when she apologized. And then, listening to her following words, he actually perked up, a tiny smile tentatively making its way on his face. “You really thought it was realistic? It's kinda tricky to really shape them from behind the door, and I focused really hard to get the rhythm right, but I figured it'd be like, uh... Shakespeare! Mess up the beat and the Bard is just not the same, right? Rhythm's important, so...” Gabriel's voice waned as he looked past the warm fuzzy feeling only a straight-A student could get from a teacher's praise and he finally realized exactly what she had said.

Slowly Gabriel took a couple of steps into the office and closed the door behind him, one hand awkwardly flying to rub his neck. “Wait. Respective supernatural secrets?” Wait, not the right word to stress. “Err, I mean- Supernatural secrets? I don't know what you're...” He didn't finish the sentence, he realized no one, lest of all Professor Beck, would ever buy it. Note to self: learn to come up with a decent lie when put on the spot. “Nevermind.” Gabriel blinked, once twice, three times as he felt the awkwardness of that pause weight on him like a heavy blanket. He drew little circles on the floor with the tip of his foot, unable to meet Professor Beck's gaze as he quickly added “Sorry. About the heart. I know you said you liked it -which we're totally gonna go back to eventually by the way... But, uh... Sorry about the intention behind the heart, I guess. I just...” His stomach chose right that moment to rumble loudly. “I'm really hungry.”

Morgan waited until the boy had closed the door and they were well and truly alone. She ached for her magic and good old fashioned silencing charms. Whatever confusion and discomfort she’d had around his trick was gone. He was too clumsy and good-natured for his own hunt. If she had been a hunter or some kind of heartless caster, he might be in a lot more trouble, and he put so much thought into his magic, he was so...eager. Morgan couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a young supernatural so positively engaged with their power and identity. She struggled not to smile as she said, “First of all, you really need to have your cover story in place before you do anything that might make a normie ask questions. You never know who’s going to turn out to be a hunter or an alarmist. You and I are fine, and I know you didn’t mean anything by it, but that may not always be the case.” She gestured for him to sit and reached into her bag for her pyrex, which had her brain stash, and her knife.

“Secondly, yes. The animal hearts I’ve seen are a little more purple-y, than that but not by much, and your average normie is definitely not going to notice any difference. And the texture of the blood? Amazing. We can and will circle back and it probably won’t take long because thirdly…” She eyed him warily. If anyone was going to not be terrified of what she was, it would be this kid, right? Nora hadn’t minded any, and whoever this boy was, he had her kind of fear magic. He thought bleeding hearts were cool, so maybe a whole zombie body might be something to feel excited about. Or at least...not something to flee in panic over. “Thirdly, first rule of supernatural club is you don’t talk about other people’s powers or species or whatever else without asking them. So I’m keeping this snack attack between you and me--well, I’ll tell my girlfriend, but I’ll leave anything specific to you out of it--and you’ll do the same for me. I uh, can’t help your food front, yet, but I can show you something about me that you might find….” Cool? “...Interesting.”

Morgan couldn’t help it; she smiled, she hoped. “How are you with real-life body horror? And how much would you like to see a real zombie…?”

Gabriel's fingers had a little spasm, desperate for a pen and a notepad. It was an automatic response, atavistic almost: when a teacher spoke, you took notes, and you listened and you learned. And man, was class fascinating today! Gabriel nodded, although part of him was so desperate to tell Professor Beck she didn't need to worry: he could become a 10 feet bundle of muscles and claws, he could defend himself. Then he remembered all those times his roommate had managed to draw penises on his face while he was snoring, and he realized that even an 800 lbs monster, when asleep, could easily be poisoned, suffocated, paralyzed... “Cover story is important, got it.”

As Professor Beck described the ideal heart, Gabriel tried to summon up a good image of it, but the result was somehow worse than the first one: less tangible, the heart illusion floated behind the professor, ghastly and practically see-through, such a pathetic attempt that he made it disappear without even showing the Professor. Gabriel frowned: why couldn't he do it anymore? Was it because he was running out of energy and needed a good scare? Or maybe it was because now he knew the Professor wasn't afraid of hearts, so his illusions would no longer be able to summon a heart for her? He would ask mami later, Gabe promised to himself: she was no bugbear, but with his father still doing his disappearing act she was the only one that had been able to give him any sort of info about those things. Until now.

“So basically supernatural powers or species is sort of like...” Gabriel paused, looked for the right metaphor, and then he perked up again. “S&M! Nothing inherently wrong with it, but some people don't really get or understand it so you gotta respect someone's choice to keep it on the DL.” Immediately he paled. Had he really just said that? To a professor? “Not that I know anything about S&M! I mean, that's not the point, the point is... Respect people's privacy, got it. I won't tell anyone about you, I swear.” Once again, Gabriel nodded solemnly, hoping that his awkwardness wouldn't make her doubt his sincerity as he raised his right hand up and made that promise, an oath he fully intended to keep.

Luckily for Gabriel, Professor Beck's next question brought the conversation back to a topic that was far more comfortable to him. “Body horror? Puh-lease! I'm majoring in Mortuary Science and yesterday I fell asleep watching The Hills Have Eyes... think I can handle some gor- Woah, wait, back up...” While during the rest of the conversation Gabriel's eyes had darted around the room, dancing between captive attention and awkward embarrassment , now they landed solely on the Professor, rudely staring. Normally Gabriel would have apologized about that, but all he could focus on right then was...“Did you just say... Zombie?” If the giant grin and wide-eyed excitement on his face didn't answer her doubts, the excited twitching probably would.

Morgan snorted with laughter at the boy’s comparison. More people knew about her species than the particulars of how she and her girlfriend frequently enjoyed sex together, and she didn’t know of anyone who was maimed for having a ball gag in their purse, but he was on the right track. “Oh, of course you don’t, totally just stuff you’ve heard around the dorms, strictly abstract, intellectual curiosity.” Her smile was knowing as she waved away the subject. There were a lot of things she was willing to speak to that other professors weren’t, but this wasn’t one of them.

The boy had put her so much at ease with his enthusiasm, she almost forgot to warn him. “What’s your name, by the way? This feels like a weird thing to demonstrate to just some kid in my office. But, anyway, brace yourself.” Morgan’s words were for herself too. It had been a while since she’d shown anyone this particular part of herself on purpose. She reached for the knife on her desk and raised it over her hand. She closed her eyes and imagined she was chopping carrots as she brought it down swiftly over her fingers.

There was a bite of pain, enough to make her whimper, but there were no tears, and by the time she opened her eyes and scooped up the two severed fingers to give to the boy, fresh white bone had sprouted from the sockets and red muscle and purple sinew were braiding themselves over it. The severed fingers did not bleed, per se, but dripped a few globs of black blood where they had been cut, but only when squeezed, like tube of toothpaste. “These’ll keep for about a day or two, if you want to stick them somewhere for somebody to find,” she said. “After that, they turn to goo.”

“Gabriel Rivera. Swear on mami's snake, I usually introduce myself before sharing secrets, but in my defense... Zombie.” There was still a hint of amazed incredulity in that last word, but any lingering doubt he may still have was quickly cut down with that swing of the Professor's knife. No matter how comfortable as Gabriel was watching gory movies or even studying the theory of preserving corpses, he still flinched out of concern for Professor Beck more than squeamishness. It was just a moment, and then he was back to enthusiastic curiosity. Without hesitation he grabbed the fingers and held them close to his face, squeezing a little and even sniffing them. He stopped short of tasting the dark blood and, after a few moments of enraptured studying, he looked up at the Professor again. “Did it hurt? Are you okay? Will they grow back?” She seemed pretty unfazed by the fact someone else was holding bits and pieces of her, though, so the questions continued rapidly, before she could answer. “Have you ever tried preserving them? I could stea- Borrow some embalming fluid from the lab and... Wait, is that offensive? Asking if I can keep your finger in a jar must be rude, I'm sorry. But just... Look at 'em!”

Gabriel traced the tip of her fingers with morbid fascination before closing his whole hand around them, like protecting some precious treasure. The Professor's words registered a second later. “Stick them somewhere for somebody? Wait, so you're saying you're not going to tell me I shouldn't scare people?” Not that he wanted to scare anyone, really, he just had to, as the waves of exhaustion made themselves known again. “Because I get it, it's not exactly nice. And, uh, I'd totally understand if you were upset about the heart or if, at the very least, you wanted me to just... Not scare people on campus. And I can totally do that, no feeding on school grounds is a reasonable rule! But since we're being so open I'll be honest.” Gabriel paused, a hint of guilt tinging his next words. “If you let me keep these I definitely will hide them somewhere. Pretty soon, too. And then I'll feed from whoever finds them. Kinda hoping it'll be Baker, since he's kind of an assh- A jerk. And then, after he runs away terrified and I'm no longer hungry I'll swoop in and retrieve them because I don't want the cops to close down the school to investigate your fingers. No need for a cover story if no one is the wisest, right?” Truth be told, Gabriel was proud of himself: between the pangs of hunger and the excitement of the Professor's revelations he thought it quite impressive that he'd managed to think ahead like that. Apparently moms with babies under cars had adrenaline bursts, teacher's pets trying to impress their new favorite Professor had bright ideas. “So, uh, if you want Baker to not see a severed finger maybe just...” It visibly pained him to finish that sentence and offer the fingers back, but he still did. “...Take 'em.”

“Yes, Gabriel, it hurt,” Morgan admitted, “But not to the same degree it would hurt you. And--” She waggled her hand in front of him. All the muscle had regrown on her once severed fingers and fresh skin was slowly growing from the knuckles upwards. “I’m fine. No need or interest in preservation. I can regrow anything but my head, which is great, because I can’t begin to tell you how many times my feet have been eaten by hungry critters here.” She determinedly kept up her blasé attitude, because at least this time she was in charge of what happened to her body. She didn’t need to feel like food or remember that to some creatures, even some people, she was only a thing. This was different. At least she and Gabriel were the same, and he understood the distinction between who she was and what she could do.

Satisfied, Morgan opened her pyrex and popped a brain meatball into her mouth, swirling it in some eyeball puree first. It would speed the re-growing process along and get the taste of fresh heart out of her head. “I should probably mention, the reason I wasn’t scared was because I kind of eat dead organs for dessert. Not really nutritious, but neither are candy bars, and that’s never stopped humans before. It’s like that.” She waved away Gabriel’s hand as he ate, insisting he keep the rather unconventional gift she’d handed him. “Oh, stars, what do you think I am? You’re, what, nineteen, maybe twenty? You’re a college kid, you need to eat! Granted, on campus is a big risk. But I understand that you need this.” And this gave her an idea. She scarfed down the rest of her food and ducked her head out of the office door. No one around, but there were some murmurs from the lower floors. Another class period had ended, and the Medievalist Bros’ lunch break was probably ending soon.

Morgan turned back to Gabriel, brow arched with a friendly challenge. “How do you feel about sticking a zombie finger inside a candy bar wrapper and telling a TA who still needs to respect women more that it came from a secret admirer?” She asked. “This will be easier if you have cash, but I don’t think my snack was so big that I can’t bust through some glass for a good cause. You can still save the other one for Baker. Also, side note, I really respect how fast you learn. But whatever you’re comfortable with, you should decide quickly, because my guess is we’ve got about five minutes to pull this off.”

Zombies were fascinating. Gabriel briefly wondered if there were any zombies working on movie sets, donating their limbs to get that perfect decomposing tint on the thousands of severed hands flying around during movies with a chainsaw-wielding maniac as the main character. Gabriel tried to listen to all the cool facts Professor Beck was spouting, but honestly it was hard for him not to get sidetracked by the gross, slopping noise of brains and smushed eyeballs being chewed. Not that it grossed Gabe out: he was actually memorizing it for his Scare Bank. “I'm 20,” He answered almost distractedly, with a small chuckle. “I only look younger thanks to my healthy diet.” Part of him was dying to ask about her diet: if organ snacks didn't cut it then what? Was the brain myth accurate? How come she was so present, so alert and aware? She moved like a living person, talked like one as well... Had she not claimed the title for herself Gabriel would have never guessed she was a zombie, not even after seeing her gulp down raw mashed livers. But something told him that was not a first meeting question, and the last thing he wanted was to upset the professor, so he kept those questions to himself. For now.

Gabriel's grin grew into a mischievous smirk as he listened to the Professor's plan. “Say no more, misogynistic dic- douchebags are my favorite meal! And it'll be the best two bucks I ever spent!” Acquiring the snack was easy, just a quick trip to the closest vending machine and back to her office, bless consumerism. Unwrapping the snack without tearing the plastic apart was a little bit trickier, but Gabriel was not going to ask the Professor to help, not after what she'd already done for him. Gabriel had finally managed to put one of the fingers inside the colorful wrapping. Not perfect, but hopefully the TA wouldn't notice. “Ready to go, just point me in that guy's direction and watch the magic happen.” He sounded more confident than he actually felt, but this time Gabriel's usual self-doubting and insecurities weren't enough to sully his excitement. “Also, do you want the candy? I'm not sure if you even can eat it. For all I know it's poisonous for you, like chocolate for dogs, and I definitely don't want to poison you.” The wrapped fingers almost fell as Gabe flailed and rushedly added “Not that I'm comparing you to a dog!!! And even if I did, hello, bear here! But, uh, what I mean is... You've been great, and I kinda feel like I owe you, so if you want candy it's all yours.” Another long pause. “Speaking of how great you've been, is this... Common for you? The whole reveal thing? Because it's a skill that might come in handy one day, really so I was wondering if I could maybe... Ask for your advice every now and then. Office hours only, of course!”

Morgan grinned, ducked her head out of the office door to listen. “Even better than that,” she whispered. She grabbed one of the spare chairs and tucked it near her own. “Have a seat here, and uh…” She grabbed one of the books stacked around her work and put it in front of Gabriel. “Look busy, or borrow it to read, if you want, I’ve got way more copies than I should really have.” She huddled near him. “The guy in question might be one of the people I share this office space with, so you can probably watch your handiwork play out if you really want. But, this is your scare, so you can do all the talking. Also, you can keep the candy. It’s not toxic, but it also doesn’t taste like much of anything to me.” She shrugged.

The TAs had made it to the hallway, making plans on how they were going to humiliate the competition on their next co-op game and how they were going to bribe the Anthro Babe into going out with Jeryn.

Morgan rushed herself, whispering rapid-fire, “And uh, about the reveals, I’ve only been dead nine months and I was a little depressed and graceless when I talked to my friends about it. I’ve been trying to work on it more recently, but you’re the first person I’ve told this month who didn’t feel the need to immediately run away. And I only made them check for my non-existent pulse.” She shrugged haplessly. “But, hey! Being dead is really different than eating fear. Maybe--”

Jeryn and his tweed wearing bros burst through the door.

“Maybe you should spend a little more time developing this post-colonial theory you’ve got!” Morgan turned to the TA’s, smiling sweetly. “Gentlemen. Nice to see you back.”

The shyest of the bunch flinched back, still traumatized from the time Morgan had threatened him with bloody murder. But Jeryn, the newest recruit to the program, was unphased. “Good day to you too, my lady. No girlfriend today? I came back early just to see you two.”

Morgan bit back her retort. Whatever she had to say wasn’t going to be nearly as satisfying as what Gabriel was going to do.

Gabriel sat down with his eyes glued to the book, but his mind was busy wrapping around Professor Beck's words. I've only been dead nine months. What do you say to something like that? The Grief Counseling classes included in his major often discussed how to talk to the family members of the deceased, the proper way to offer your condolences while keeping the professional detachment needed to help them through the trying process of accepting a loss, and yet Gabe had no clue regarding the proper etiquette to adress someone who had died. Luckily the door opened and spared him the awkwardness of replying.

When the TAs entered Gabriel was reminded of his high school's football team, only with tweed instead of letter jackets. Any hint of guilt he might have had at the fact he was about to scare, maybe even traumatize a young man was dissipated the moment Jeryn opened his mouth. Gabriel didn't need to look at the professor to recognize the target.

“Wait, it's you!” Gabriel did his best to sound surprised and annoyed at the same time as he stood up and approached Jaryn. “I thought Linda was making stuff up, but man you are something! Linda Blair, you know her?” Jaryn blinked. “The name sounds familiar, but I can't quite pla-” Gabe interrupted him. “She's been auditing your classes and just won't shut up about you, says her fingers literally fell off from refreshing your Facebook page.” As he spoke, Gabriel pretended to dig through his pocket for something, and after a few moments he produced the fake snack. “When I told her I had an appointment with Professor Beck she basically begged me to give you this. Think she wrote her number on it or something. Apparently the way you treated her made her feel things she just can't ignore, and she just has to meet you... Women, am I right?” The wink he offered Jaryn made him feel dirty inside, but it was for a good cause.

Everything on Jaryn's face seemed to scream 'Is she hot?' and sensing his reluctance Gabriel retreated his hand and started to tear the wrapper, raising it to his mouth as if to take a bite. It took all his effort not to gag as putrescine and cadaverine (They were decomposing already? So cool) assaulted his nose, but somehow Gabriel managed to keep his poker face on as he said “Hey, don't worry, you don't have to accept! I mean, honestly I was thinking about asking her out myself, so I was kinda hoping you wouldn't be here, I can tell her I-” Jaryn basically ripped the 'candybar' away from Gabe. “No need, kid. It'd be rude to refuse a thoughtful gift from... What was her name again?”

“Look inside...”

The female voice echoed through the office, repeating the name over and over, punctuating it with the occasional forlorn sigh. Gabriel's eyes were closed as he channeled his energy into the magic. “What the...?!” Jaryn and the other TAs looked around, tense. The more their panic grew, the easier it was for him to add whistles and bells to the trick. “Look what you did to me...” Jaryn turned to stare at the Professor, confusion and nervousness painted all over his pale face. “What's the meaning of this, Profe-” The door slammed shut. Or rather, the door sounded like it had been slammed shut, though it was all part of the illusion.

“LOOK!”

When a ghastly, disembodied voice barks an order at you, you obey. Or at least that seemed to be Jaryn's thought process. He went above and beyond the call of duty and clumsily tore the wrapper, revealing the two fingers inside. Gabriel had to hide a smirk. The smell of decomposition assaulted everyone in the room, magically enhanced by Gabe's illusions, and the sticky dark ooze coming out from the fingers added a layer of realism to the image of copious amounts of blood running down from the severed extremity. Gabe's magic couldn't give it weight or make Jaryn's hands actually wet, but Professor Beck's impeccable prop did the work for him. Jaryn's face paled and his terror... Man, his terror was prime. Gabe even let out a satisfied hum, almost a cat-like purr as he absorbed their fear, sharp and vibrant and oh-so-filling. After a few long moments Jaryn dropped the fingers inside a sizable pool of fake, intangible blood that had collected at his feet. Almost as if that were the signal they were all waiting for, the TAs snapped out of their petrified terror and trampled each other in a clumsy race to the door, their screams echoing across the hallways as they ran from the office.

With a satisfied sigh, Gabriel picked up the fingers, rubbed his belly and turned to the Professor, finally breaking down into a laughter that took a while to die down. Normally he would never be so informal around a teacher, but man he always felt ready to take on the world after an all-you-can-eat buffet like that. “So... Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

Morgan did her best to keep her face straight, even disinterested, as Gabriel summoned the disembodied voice of a young woman into the room. She opened her laptop, watching Jeryn’s reflection through the screen. When he called out to her she looked at him confused. “What?”

The voice cried for everyone in the room to look, and Morgan, her face still bland and innocent as before, did. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself steady. His scream, shrill, throaty, and desperate, must have echoed through the entire hall.

“Aw, guys! What happened?” She called. “Come back, are you okay?”

When she could only hear their footsteps thundering to the bathroom, Morgan finally let out all the laughter she’d been holding in, tipping in her seat and covering her mouth to stop from getting any louder. “Are you kidding me? Gabe! That was amazing! I mean, the way his eyes looked like they wanted to melt! He sounded like a little kid when he screamed too! I’d be surprised if one of them didn’t piss themselves! Oh, stars, I can’t wait to tell him he screamed over a plastic toy when he comes back. This is way better than anything I could’ve done on my own. Seriously, you were--” She shook her head, speechless, and offered her hand up for a high five.

“Hang onto those so you can grab dinner tonight, or dessert,” she said, pointing to the fingers. “They won’t be any good after tomorrow, and I’d rather them go to a good cause than Besides, I can trust a fellow supernatural to look after them, right?” She smiled fondly at Gabriel, already certain that she could. “And, in case it wasn’t clear, I’m really glad you showed up to my office. I think you’d also like my lit seminar, but I hope this isn’t the last time I see you either way.”

Gabriel shook his head vehemently. He wasn't going to take all the credit, he was raised better than that. “Listen, you're the only reason it worked so well, it had weight! Lots of people can take the sight of horrible stuff because, well... TV, I think. But the feel of holding a severed piece of a human bo--teacher?! CSI can't prepare you for that.” Gabe nodded solemnly at his own words, as if he was the teacher and she the student. And then he finally realized her position. Was that a... Holy crap, it was. An actual high five! From a professor! It was almost surreal, but he'd promised to himself long ago he'd never leave anyone hanging. The high-five echoed through the office, to his ears even louder than his own illusions, and his huge grin threatened to split his face in half.

“I'm glad I showed up, too! Though now I better go, I kinda don't want them to come back and find me still here...” Truth be told, part of Gabriel was dying to just stay and ask her all sort of questions about herself, but he still wasn't sure he could trust himself not to put his foot in his mouth and ruin what felt like the luckiest meal of his life. “Oh, and by all means, mail me the deets on the seminar because I am so there...” It was only then that he realized, once more, that this was not one of his peers, this was a teacher, he shouldn't be so casual with her. Yet something about her demeanor had managed to put him at ease from the first moment, to the point where it was hard not to file the Professor under the Potential Friends category in his mind. Maybe, just maybe, that's exactly where she belonged.

[hyperfixation-stations]

Beetlejuice March 8,2020 Review

So once a semester my school offers discounted tickets for students to go see a show and I finally had the weekend free and it was Beetlejuice so I had to go. So the theater itself when you walking in is one of the more decorated ones I’ve seen, the lights are off and they have these lantern looking lights that are different colors and the entire time you’re sitting waiting for the show to start they have this music playing that’s a weird combination of ominous and quirky and it works.

So I love Beetlejuice and it’s not only one of my favorite shows but also one of my favorite movies so I had high expectations going into the performance and let me just say that I was not disappointed. The set was amazing, all the tech and magic aspects were on point, all the actors played their roles perfectly. It’s easily one of the best shows that I’ve see on broadway. It also really shocks me that the production didn’t win any tony awards specifically Alex Brightman and the set. Also the performance I was at had one of the most electric crowds I’ve ever seen and I’ve been to actors final performances. Every joke, song, entrance got a huge reaction and their was standing ovation as soon as jump in the line ended.

Alright let’s review some actors now:

Alex Brightman: I’ve wanted to see Alex perform live for so long now, and I’m so glad that I got to see him in this performance. He absolutely nails the BJ voice and he really pays tribute nicely to Michael Keatons BJ while also giving his own hilarious take on the role. He absolutely nailed the jokes and he really has a great singing voice that he mixes in to the BJ voice. I’m still shocked he didn’t win the Tony award for best leading actor in a musical because so much of the show relies on Beetlejuice and his energy and his ability to keep everyone into the show.

Presley Ryan: Now I’ve seen a lot of people saying that they don’t like Presley in the role because she isn’t as anxious as Sophia and has much less of an Rock/punk edge to her voice. However I have to say that she plays Lydia perfectly. Her Lydia is much a teenager who has become consumed with the thought of death and is struggling with the loss of her mother and this is how she’s chosen to grieve rather then being a typical “goth” teen and that before the loss of her mother she was very different. We get hints of this throughout the show when Charles talks about how things were before her mom passed, this makes her sweeter and more traditional singing voice make a lot more sense because she’s more so using the goth and death facade as a shield. Her acting choices through out the show are very strong and the sweetness definitely comes through when she talks about memories she has with her mom. Her Lydia is also very connected to the other characters like you can see how she views Adam and Barbara as surruogate parents and how much she loves them, this is especially true in the first scene she has with them in the attaic, you can see how much she loves her dad and how she is struggling with feeling like she’s lost him too. Presley is also physically very small like when she was standing with some of the other actors it stood out at least to me how tiny she actually is and I’m 5’2. This might be an unpopular opinion but I actually prefer her in the role in comprison to Sophia, I feel like Presley had a much more emotion connection and delivery and it really showed. It took everything in me to not sob during home.

Kerry Butler: Kerry Butler really feels so much like Barbara and she fits the role perfectly. She balances that maturing mothering and doting vibe with having some great comedic moments. As Katherine Steele always we can always use more Kerry Butler. She just seems like such a sweet person and she just seems so pure

Leslie Kritzer: Leslie was one of my favorite performances of the afternoon. She is absolutely hysterical as Delia and she totally steals the show. I mean between the tik Tok and fortnite dances to her life coaching she quite literally has done my favorite performance by any actor ever. She is just so funny and she really makes the role her own. And the best thing is within all this humor she has some great moments where she is caring and you can see how much this family means to her. Also I died during No Reason it was just {chefs kiss}

David Josefsberg: David was a great Adam and I was pleasantly surprised by him. He also sounds so much like Rob Mclure it’s scary, there were several times were I forgot it wasn’t Rob performing. Like Kerry his Adam is the perfect balance of the stereotypical suburban dad trope soon fm with having some great comedic moments, also watching him act in response to all the advances BJ makes towards his character is hysterical. He also looked he peaked when he got to make his Dad jokes to Lydia especially after she said she liked them.

Adam Dannheiser: He was a great Charles and Charles is a character that could very easily fade into the background because of all the other eccentric characters around him and he provides a wonderful balance to all the craziness going on around him. It would be very easy portray Charles as a bad guy, but Adam does a great job at showing that Charles like Lydia is struggling with the loss of his wife and while his mourning looks different and that he’s trying to move on it still hurts him deeply. One of the most impactful Serbs was his conversation with Lydia in the underworld after Home when she realizes that she can’t find her mom. The scene was poignant and raw and you really felt like you were watching a father reconnect with his daughter and how much he cares about her.

Ensamble: The ensamble was great and their in the show a lot more than I realize. They had great tracks and I loved watching them, they really stood out in What I know now and Beautiful Sound. Also special shout out to Dana Steingold who plays the Girl Scout, she is a surprisingly believable child for someone in their 30s and I loved her scene.

If you get the chance to see the show before it closes I highly recommend it, it’s totally worth the price of admission and your guaranteed to have a great time.

[vagrantblvrd]

Leave the Lights On (1/1)

Summary: Michael’s had his share of bad luck but his crappy little car dying on him in the middle of the night with a storm about to hit is a new low.

Notes: IDK, romcom shenanigans with possible vampires???¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(Read on AO3)

Michael’s had his share of bad luck but his crappy little car dying on him in the middle of the night with a storm about to hit is a new low.

To make matters better his phone died an hour ago thanks to a faulty charging cable he hadn’t replaced yet. Thought he could get a few more hours of it, long enough to get home and jury-rig something until he could, but then his boss had thrown extra orders at him and it had slipped his mind.

His car’s been limping along on its spare tire for over a week now while he pulled extra shifts to afford a replacement, and everything is terrible.

Goddamned miserable, because on top of everything else he’s starving and his car still smells like the pizzas he delivered earlier. Shitty job he took to pay the bills until he finds something better in this shitty town and -

There’s a sudden flash of lightning tearing through the night sky followed by a bone-rattling roll of thunder somewhere ahead of him. Storm rolling in like the meteorologists forecast and goddamn does he not want to be here for it.

“Fucking hell.”

He should just stick the oncoming storm out in his car, not risk getting lost in the dark and cold like a moron, but.

There’s a creek about a hundred yards away and the news was all over flooding concerns in the area with the storm coming in. Absolutely could not shut up about it, and as much fun as being swept away in the dark sounds, Michael would like not to add that to his list of life experiences, thanks.

And...he isn’t in the boonies out here, okay. There are houses around, even if they’re a little spread out.

Big sprawling things, old money and all that. Some have fallen into disrepair and neglect over the years, but the whole reason he’s out this way is one of the pizza shop’s regulars.

Odd guy who always has Michael leave his order at the door, but he tips well enough that Michael stopped thinking about it a while back. (God knows he’d hate to see his ugly mug in the middle of the night just to get his food.)

Well.

Alright, sort of.

Look, the guy lives way out here in a house – mansion – that looks like it should be in an old Gothic noir film. And as often as Michael delivers pizzas to his house he’s never seen his face.

When Michael first started working at the pizza shop his coworkers loved to spin their little theories and share stories about whoever lived out here being fucking vampires or some other horror movie monsters. Well, that or some reclusive serial killers because why not try to freak out the new guy?

Another flash of lightning and angry rumble of thunder have Michael making what’s sure to be another terrible decision in a long line of them. Gathering what he doesn’t want to leave behind in case his car gets swept away or someone comes along and thinks it looks like a tempting target.

His phone, though fat lot of good it’ll do him. The empty delivery bags because his boss will take it out of his paycheck if he loses them. Random shit he should have taken up to his apartment a long time ago but just didn’t get around to because procrastination.

Michael locks his car up and pulls the hood of his hoodie up and starts on the half mile (give or take) walk back to his regular’s house. If he’s lucky he’ll get there before the storm hits.

========

Michael’s luck is shit.

The sky opens up when he’s long past the point of no return. No other choice but to push on until he hits the house or find a comfortable ditch to die in like the idiot he is, so he pushes on.

Soaked through in minutes and there’s no way his phone will work after this, so might as well add that to his list of reasons why being an adult sucks ass.

But hey, he’s probably going to die out here and get eaten by fucking coyotes or something, so there’s that.

========

By the time he reaches the guy’s house, Michael’s freezing.

Can barely feel his fingers and his feet went the same way a while back. Heavy and clumsy and he’s an even bigger idiot than Gavin which is saying something.

Maybe not on the edge of getting frostbite or whatever, but he’s not doing great either. Cold and wet and miserable and hating every moment. The sight of the house (mansion) looming out of the dark like something in a Gothic movie is welcoming rather than borderline unsettling.

So.

Michael's probably fried the last of his functioning brain cells in his trek of stupidity. (Frozen them? Something.)

He takes far too long to ring the fucking doorbell, with his hands being uncooperative as shit and he misses a few times.

And then it’s a waiting game. Michael eyeing the doorbell and wondering if he should follow Gavin’s example and spam the fucking thing because God knows most people are asleep by now, but -

The door is wrenched open and Michael blinks up at an annoyed looking guy.

Tall. Broad shoulders. Floppy hair – look, Michael’s brain is frozen and the guy's hair does this...thing.

Incredibly blue eyes and these lips, okay. These lips that are...moving?

Because talking, and it takes Michael a few moments to realize it through the cold and numb and the pounding rain. (Also, Michael’s dumb, dumb brain.)

“Shit, fuck,” he says, tries to wave his hands in apology because Michael's a goddamn mess. “Uh, sorry to bother you but my car died and I didn't want to drown.”

The lips stop moving, and the guy goes from being annoyed to alarmed to concerned in moments, almost too fast for Michael’s muddled mind to keep track of.

But that’s fine, because the guy’s attention drops to the delivery bags Michael shoved down the front of his hoodie when he almost dropped them some time back. Fingers too cold and stiff to hold on to them any longer.

Michael tries to explain he’s the worst kind of idiot, but the guy hisses in sudden realization – Michael must look worse off than he thought – and reaches out to drag Michael inside.

========

The guy’s got a nice voice, all rich and deep and Michael’s never thought of himself as someone who had a thing for voices, so there’s that to deal with now too.

Could be lingering effects of frozen brain syndrome, or maybe Michael’s just real dumb, whichever.

The guy bundles Michael off to this ridiculously huge bathroom, shoves a change of clothes at him -

“They’re clean, I promise, just please don’t freeze to death on me, the lawyers would have a fit.”

- and leaves him to shower and change in peace.

Tells him where the laundry room is so he can put his clothes in to wash while they wait out the storm before he fucks off to make coffee or whatever he’s babbling about.

Michael doesn’t know what the thing with the lawyers is about, but hey. Problem to puzzle out later, if he doesn’t get himself horribly murdered first.

And, okay.

The guy probably isn’t some creature of the night or serial killer, based on how awkward he is, about Michael barging in on him like this. All fluttery hands and oh shit and what do I do to not have this idiot die on me and what is going on???

The clothes he handed Michael aren’t from one of those old movies Michael’s been subjected to thanks to family members and various other assholes in his life. No unbearable amounts of lace and other finery to fit the setting. Just a pair of sweats, soft and warm and these amazing socks that make his toes super happy, but whatever.

Michael takes a long shower, lets the hot water thaw him out as much as it can, chase the chill that seems to have sunk into his bones away and leaving him feeling more like a real human boy again.

There are huge, fluffy towels set out for him and he hums a little as he dries off, taking care to get as much water out of his hair as he can.

He’s sure to get a cold out of this mess. Can feel the back of his throat acting up, body feeling tired and sluggish and just overall shittier than usual, but he’s got his mom’s lectures about that shit in the back of his head and it can’t hurt, right?

There aren’t any mirrors in the bathroom, which is a little odd but not alarmingly so. Some people just don’t like having the damn things around, nothing all that strange when it comes down to it. Michael runs his fingers through his hair and leaves it at that because fuck if it ever does what he wants anyway.

When he feels he’s somewhat presentable and mostly thawed, Michael ventures out of the bathroom and gets his first real look at the place.

Definitely perfect for some old timey movie. All antique furniture and shit, but there are modern day touches tossed in here and there. Security system of some sort, which makes sense because everything here looks expensive as shit.

No decorative mirrors or reflective surfaces he can see aside from the windows he passes, and okay, this whole vampire theory his coworkers fed him feels a bit more believable. (The tiniest shred, because vampires aren’t real and his coworkers are asshole, but yeah.)

Michael keeps his hands to himself as he follows the faint sound of noise coming from the floor below. Takes the stairs slow because it would suck to fall and break his neck after everything else that’s happened, and finds himself in the kitchen.

Big spacious thing that’s meant for a whole staff toiling away to cook meals and the like. Modern appliances here and there to take their place and a scuffed up table and a couple of chairs at one end by the pantry that doesn’t fit in with the rest of the furniture Michael’s seen.

The guy is muttering to himself as he fusses with a coffeemaker on the counter, other appliances scattered around and looking frazzled.

Michael doesn’t blame him, because complete stranger showing up in the middle of the night like Michael had and just.

Yeah.

“Hey,” Michael says, and winces when he startles the poor bastard. “Sorry to barge in on you like this.”

The guy turns around to stare at Michael.

“What?”

Michael shrugs, plucking at his borrowed clothes.

“I mean,” he says. “In hindsight I should have stuck it out in my car, but it died next to the creek down the road and I was worried about flooding, so you know. Sorry for bothering you.”

He doesn’t know if the guy is just not keen on people or what, but having the pizza guy show up like an idiot like this can’t be a fun experience for him.

“Uh,” the guy says again. “Jesus, no. The damn creek floods every time it rains. With a storm like this it would have been, uh. Bad. Real bad for you if you'd stayed with your car.”

Huh. Okay, so maybe Michael did make a good choice there.

They stare at each other for a moment longer before Michael remembers his manners, and sticks his hand out. Still cold as shit even after the hot shower, but in working order again and everything.

“I’m Michael by the way,” he says, feeling like an even bigger idiot. “Nice to meet you?”

He’s not sure about the protocol here, but figures introducing himself can’t hurt.

The guy tips his head to the side, slight frown on his face giving way to his bemused little smile as he shakes Michael's hand.

“Ryan,” he says, chuckling a little at how awkward this whole situation is. “I’m Ryan.”

========

Ryan sits Michael down with a cup of hot coffee and containers of creamer and sugar and rattles around what sounds like it’s going to be soup going from his muttering.

The nice part is that he checks with Michael first to make sure he doesn’t have any allergies or other diet restrictions before he does. Means no surprise dairy to worry about and Michael sips his coffee as he watches.

Ryan’s real comfortable with the knives and other pointy kitchen tools and gadgets he’s using. He’s more intent on killing the hell out of vegetables and a rotisserie chickens he pulls out of the fridge rather than Michael, so that’s one less thing to worry about.  (For now.)

Interestingly he puts garlic in with the onions, which is another point for him not being a vampire, or maybe the myths and legends surrounding vampires are wrong on that front.

Every so often he’ll remember he’s not alone and shoot Michael these sheepish little looks like he’s aware he looks like a lunatic, but it’s not like Michael can judge, so.

“How did you get stuck out here anyway?” Ryan asks, dropping herbs of some sort into the pot on the stove.

Michael shrugs, because the reasons are many.

“Bad luck,” he says simply. “A fuck-ton of it.”

Ryan turns to look at him, corner of his mouth pulled up into this little smile that says he knows the feeling, has had his share of it too.

“Fair enough,” he says. “The landlines are out due to the storm, but you can use my cell if you need to make calls.”

Simple little offer and Michael’s grateful for it, but Ryan’s delivery was the last one of his shift and the pizza shop has to be closed up by now. Anyone he knows in the city are long asleep and there’s no point in waking them up to remind them how dumb he is. Definitely no point in calling a tow service now, so.

“It can wait,” he says, and grins at the dubious look Ryan sends him.

Ryan’s a little odd, sure. Quirky, eccentric, but he doesn’t feel dangerous and Michael likes to think he’s a good judge of character. (Gavin’s an anomaly, outlier like that Spiders George asshole.)

“Okay,” Ryan says, just that simple

It goes on like that, the coffee Ryan gave him warming him up and helping to shake out lingering fuzziness from his mind. Kitchen warm and cozy and Ryan’s occasional muttering to the soup he’s making like a lunatic more amusing than alarming. (Quirky, even.)

Michael learns Ryan’s new to the area too. Moved out here a few years ago when a relative died and left the place to him, has a whole pack of said relative’s lawyers sorting out the rest and nitpicking everything he chooses to be for whatever reason.

“What?”

Ryan shrugs, another sheepish grin as he sets a steaming bowl of soup in front of Michael before serving himself.

“I’m the last surviving benefactor in the Will, and I guess I don’t measure up to their standards?” he shrugs like it’s not a big deal, but there’s this hard line to his mouth, tension in his shoulders that seems like it shouldn't be there.

He's got the lawyers breathing down his neck, micromanaging him and the way he lives his life because there are clauses in the Will or some shit Ryan has to adhere to before the place and the rest of his inheritance is his free of strings.

Sounds exhausting as fuck and not worth the hassle, but what the hell does Michael know?

Michael snorts, because this house – mansion – reeks of money, and he can only imagine the kind of asshole who’d looks around them at all of it and think, ah, yes, perfect without a shred of irony.

He might be wrong on this one, but Ryan doesn’t strike him as being one of them.

“Yeah, well,” Michael shrugs, and tries the soup Ryan made. Tasty as fuck and the guy made it from scratch for the little idiot who showed up at his door without warning, so it’s pretty incredible. “Holy shit, this is good.”

Ryan laughs, all stupid shy about it as he ducks his head and mumbles a thank you and Michael, alright, Michael isn’t in love, but he’s definitely something.

========

After they clear the dishes away and clean up the kitchen – Michael insisted on helping because he’s intruding on Ryan’s life enough – Michael goes through the stuff he brought with him.

Sets the delivery bags up to dry with Ryan’s help and tosses his poor abused phone on the kitchen table.

“Mind if I take a look?” Ryan asks, as Michael scowls at it and tries to find something he can cut from his budget to put towards a replacement for it.

“What?”

Ryan rolls his eyes and makes grabby hands for the glorified brick on his table, and Michael hands it over because fuck if he has a good reason no to.

It’s deader than dead, and only a miracle worker could salvage anything from it, but Ryan still tries.

Takes the battery out and grabs a can of compressed air or something to get as much of the water out of it as he can before shoving the rest in a bowl of uncooked rice.

“If we’re lucky it’ll still work after this,” he says when he looks back at Michael, like he didn’t just go into crisis mode over Michael's damn phone.

“Uh, yeah Thanks?” Michael says, and laughs at himself because what the actual hell. “You seemed to know what you were doing.”

Another awkward little shrug.

“I work in IT,” he says which explains some of the stuff Michael's seen that doesn’t fit the décor. “So, you know.”

Michael doesn’t, but he just nods along.

Ryan nods too, because awkward. Drums his fingers on the kitchen table now there's nothing for him to fiddle with and the comfortable silence between them stretches thin.

“...I can show you to one of the spare bedrooms if you’re tired?” Ryan offers, with a shrug, deprecating smile, as he goes on. “Or I could give you the grand tour of the place?”

Michael considers it for a moment.

He is tired, but the combination of a shitty night and the coffee Ryan gave him have him keyed up. Not quite jittery, but sleep is going to be long in coming.

A glance at Ryan shows the guy might be a night owl (one more tick in the vampire category) and he seems…

Lonely?

He seems lonely.

Lives in this big, sprawling mansion on his own and hasn’t mentioned any friends or coworkers. And even thought Michael’s been delivering pizzas out here for about a year, this is the first time they’ve met. (Although being in IT, it’s possible Ryan works from home and has a plethora of friends he keeps in contact with online.)

Who knows.

“I mean,” Michael says. “Who in their right mind would turn down a tour of Wayne Manor?”

That gets a startled laugh out of Ryan, this big dopey grin because of course he’s that kind of nerd.

========

The place is massive, but enough there are wings to it. Ryan chatters on about this room or that, and most of it seems to be untouched.

“It’s a little big for my tastes,” Ryan says, uncomfortable about it as they leave behind yet another library full of stuffy old books and antique furniture. “I only need a few rooms to myself, but one of the terms of my inheritance is I can’t sell it, so.”

He shrugs, like he knows its not the worst thing in the world but there’s something a lot like regret there too.

Michael gets it, though.

The place is...it’s dark and gloomy and whoever lived here before seems like the kind of asshole who looked down on the little guy. Expensive everything and Michael feels wildly out of place here and he’s just the pizza guy.

Ryan in his old faded jeans and t-shirt with some kind of nerdy computer joke and awkward smile lives here.

Maybe more luxurious than the cramped apartment he mentioned living in before this, but Michael doesn’t think it was a step up for the poor guy with all the bullshit he has to deal with.

Ryan points out the gardens and courtyards, although with the storm it’s hard to make anything out. He’ll take Ryan’s word for it they’re a sight to behold and all that, maybe steal a glance at them in the morning if the weather’s cleared by then.

There’s hesitation on Ryan’s part, like he’s not sure Michael will give a shit, but they end up in a huge garage.

Huge.

Might have been a hose stable or whatever the fuck back in the day that's been converted into a modern-ish garage at some point.

And there are a lot of cars.

Old classics that belonged to the previous owner. Pretty little sports cars a handful of less obscenely expensive cars here and there and a few limos.

As in more than one, because you can never have too many?

One that looks like it’s only a few years old and more going back decades, the kind you’d see in old movies or black and white photos.

“Jesus,” Michael says, too afraid of scathing the sleek black paint job to touch the one that looks like it’s from prohibition era.

Ryan makes a noise of agreement, hands stuffed into his pockets as he gestures to a modest little sedan parked towards the garage doors.

“I stick to driving mine,” he says, crooked smile on his face. “Less to worry about with the insurance that way.”

No shit.

Wreck that and it’ll be a pain, sure, try the same with any of the others cars here and it’d be a goddamned crime.

Ryan gives Michael that crooked grin again and they head back into the mansion through the kitchen.

Michael grabs another cup of coffee because he’s smart like that, and follows Ryan into a room he’s turning into his.

Obvious from the moment they set foot inside, and Michael smiles as he looks around.

The antique furniture has been moved somewhere else to be replaced with what must be Ryan’s own furniture. A few pieces are battered and well-used but look comfy as hell, and there’s a huge flat screen television mounted on a wall.

Computer setup and other shiny gadgets and tech scattered about that give the room a lived feel to it, like this is where Ryan spends a substantial amount of his time.

There’s a set of doors leading to a deck overlooking a garden, and it must get a decent amount of sunlight in the day. Not as gloomy or dark ad the rest of the place and he can see why Ryan likes it here.

Michael breaks into a grin when when he spots the gaming system Ryan has hooked up to the television, or rather gaming systems.

“Oh, dude, sweet,” he says, looking over the games on a nearby shelf. “You play video games?”

Ryan laughs, this delighted little smile on his face when Michael looks back at him.

“Uh, yeah,” he says. “A little.”

That’s complete bullshit because there are a shit-ton of games on the shelf and a little stack of them beside one of the consoles, but sure, sure.

Ryan opens and closes his mouth a few ties before he visibly decides fuck it.

“Do you, uh. Want to play something?”

========

“Oh, bullshit!” Michael yells, throwing his hand up as Ryan snipes his character in the head yet again from whatever hidey spot he’s in now. “Fucking, come out and fight me like a man, dipshit!”

Ryan’s side of the ouch is shaking as the man himself fucking loses it, goddamn giggles.

He's got this weird little laugh most of the time, kind of croaky and adorable as shit. But then he comes out with that damn giggle of his and Michael forgets he’s supposed to be angry at the sneaky fuck who’s one of the best video game snipers Michael’s played against.

Ray’s infuriating as fuck, sure, but goddamned Ryan is so fucking smug about it.

Breaks out of that awkward shell of his to taunt Michael, comes across as some menacing creep and laughs like a lunatic when he pops Michael’s character in the head with some impossible shot.

A far cry from the awkward bumbling guy Michael met only a few hours ago and it’s kind of amazing.

“I hate you,” Michael says with no heat behind it as he waits for his character to respawn. “So much, you don’t even know.”

Ryan’s still too busy laughing to care.

========

Michael's crazy, zany adventures catch up to him and he can’t put off his exhaustion any longer.

Ryan catches him in the middle of a jaw-cracking yawn and laughs, this little huff of breath.

“I think it’s time we called it quits,” he says, eyebrow quirking when Michael tries to reassure him no, Michael's good to keep playing and another yawn catches him off guard.

“Okay, okay,” Michael agrees, cheeks heating. “You might have a point there.”

Another quiet little laugh and Michael is kind of gone on this idiot, just the tiniest bit.

Real easy on the eyes and easier to get along with, even if he is a sneaky son of a bitch when it comes to video games. Fucking loves his loopholes and goddamned smug about how good a player he is when he’s winning.

Ryan grins at him, and waits for Michael to untangle himself from the blankets and everything else before leading him to one of the spare bedrooms.

There’s an awkward moment as they stare at one another before Ryan clears his throat and scurries away wishing Michael a good night.

Michael snorts, because talk about smooth. (Probably for the best anyway though.)

The spare room is the same ridiculous level of extravagant as the rest of the place, and Michael’s a little worried about sullying the place up with his commoner cooties, but he’s fucking tired.

Tired and sore and fuck it all anyway, because as stuffy as the room is the bed is comfortable as shit and he’s asleep before too long.

========

Morning comes too soon, Michael woken up by the literal quiet after the storm.

No rain coming down in torrents, wind battering at the mansion like a live thing. The only sounds he can hear are songbirds venturing out after the storm looking for food, and it’s weird as hell.

He’s used to the sounds of the city, always something going on. Someone making noise. Loud and obnoxious and comforting in its own way because it’s all he’s known.

This...weird as hell, sure, but not awful.

Michael stays in bed as he remembers how the hell he got here and why. Common sense comes along way too fucking late and wow.

Because all the ways he could have died horribly somehow not happening. Ryan turning out to be an awkward dork with a goofy smile and ridiculous laugh, and Michael's quick to shut down any further thoughts about Ryan because it’s smarter that way. (Safer, too.)

Michael gets up, taking the time to be a good guest and make his bed before he goes to the laundry room to collect his clothes. Takes a quick shower in the bathroom before he changes into them, and then he goes...it’s not exploring, just.

Venturing.

Ryan doesn’t seem to be up yet, or maybe he’s just in another part of the mansion, and Michael ends up in the “living room” Ryan’s cobbled together.

It's another library that’s been repurposed. Tall bookshelves lining the walls and a long table on one end close by the glass doors that open up into one of thee courtyards. Ryan’s made it fit his needs instead of the other way around.

While taking a better look at Ryan’s video game collection Michael comes across a framed photo. Ryan and another guy, both dressed like people in the Victorian era. Michael stares at it for a long, long moment, not  sure what to make of it.

A formal portrait kind of thing, both of them elegantly dressed with solemn expressions on their faces and what the actual fuck?

“Oh, uh,” Ryan says appearing from nowhere. “That’s my younger brother.”

Michael turns around to see Ryan standing beside him, and look okay, look.

Michael knows vampires aren’t real, but Ryan’s odd, eccentric. Thinking back on what he told Michael the night before, a lot of it doesn’t add up.

Ryan flips between formal turns of phrase to more modern ones, and he’s just.

Strange.

Woefully out of touch when it comes to certain things. The guy fumbles slang and shit like that, which fine. He’s also a major dork so that could be explanation enough, but.

It’s nice and bright in here now, sunlight spilling in through the windows and glass doors that lead out to what looks like a beautiful garden. And Ryan, okay. Not bursting into flames or whatever the hell it is vampires are supposed to do in this situation.

“Halloween?” Michael asks, smiling as he does because that would make the most sense, wouldn’t it? Couple of dapper assholes out for a night of Halloween fun somewhere.

There’s not that much of a family resemblance between the two of them. Ryan the broader of the two, light hair and eye color, but that doesn’t mean anything in the grander scheme and all that.

Ryan shakes his head, fond little smile on his face as he reaches past Michael to pick the frame up.

“No,” he says, and doesn’t explain why the hell he has a photo like that. “It’s one of the last ones I have of us together though.”

“Uh - “

Ryan sighs, brushing his fingers over the glass like a character in an old movie.

“There was a fire,” he says, “part of the reason I moved here.”

Michael wants to ask, he really does, but he’s not sure if it would be the right choice at the moment.

The way Ryan talks could mean there’s a horrible family tragedy in his past involving his little brother, or it’s something less devastating like a simple falling out that he’d rather not dwell on. Maybe it’s just the way life goes sometimes, people falling out of contact only to reconnect at a later date.

Whichever one it is, it doesn’t feel right for Michael to go sticking his nose into things, so.

Yeah.

“Anyway,” Ryan says, setting the frame down gently and gives Michael a bright smile. “Breakfast?”

========

Ryan cooks them some omelets and brews a pot of coffee and Michael – tired and confused and getting a little irritated over it, shoves the vampire/not vampire debate away for later, because fucking really.

They talk about the weather, seeing as it’s a significant factor in this situation and Ryan tells him the landlines are working again. (As expected, Michael’s phone is dead as shit even with Ryan’s heroic efforts.)

Once they clear the dishes away – Michael has to insist on helping with that again, fuck’s sake – he makes a few calls.

Tells his boss he won’t be in for the day because reasons, and Ryan offers to drive him out to see if his car is still there before he calls a tow service.

“Oh, fuck. Good idea, yeah.”

Ryan doesn’t laugh at him because it’s not funny, but he totally does.

The drive out to the spot Michael’s car died on him is quiet, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

Michael’s car is where he left it, but the creek did indeed flood. There’s water reaching almost to the car windows and no hope of getting a jump from Ryan and driving himself home now.

“Well, shit.”

No way to tell if it’s a lost cause from the insurance company’s view, but it’s not looking great for Michael, which is awesome.

Not like he relies on the damn thing for work or anything.

========

Michael doesn’t expect to hear from Ryan again after that, figures it was a nice - if weird - thing that happened to him thanks to his luck and life in general.

He had to quit his job at the pizza shop because his car was deemed a total loss by the insurance company and what they gave him was nowhere near enough for a decent replacement. (A pizza delivery driver without a working car is worse than useless.)

Michael's working the night shift at a distribution center for a big box store. Hard, thankless work loading trucks up all night long and shitty pay, but hey, bills to pay and all that.

And then a few weeks after he ended up at Ryan’s freaking mansion, he gets a knock on his door and this kid in an ill-fitting suit beaming up at him.

“Michael Jones?” he asks, even though it’s clear he knows who Michael is. Pushes past Michael into his crappy apartment and glances around before turning back to him to pop open the briefcase he’s carrying. “I’ve got an offer for you on behalf of my client.”

Michael stares at this idiot kid with his idiot smile and this look in his eyes that says he’s not walking out of Michael’s apartment until Michael hears him out.

“I’m sorry, what?” Michael asks, utterly bewildered. “Who the hell are you?”

========

Fucking Ryan.

========

“Jesus Christ,” Jeremy breathes, looking up at the fucking Gothic mansion Ryan calls home these days. “How the fuck didn’t I know about this place before?”

Michael doesn’t know, and he doesn’t care.

Too annoyed at Ryan and his...Ryan-ness to give much of a shit as he limbs out of Jeremy’s car. Manages not to slam the door because Jeremy is doing him a favor driving Michael out here on little notice like this.

The lawyer’s sensible hybrid car is parked under the covered awning near the garage, and Michael -

“Michael?”

Michael reins his temper in and leans in through the passenger side window to meet Jeremy’s worried gaze.

“Magic,” he spits, because for all he knows it is, and then feels guilty at the look Jeremy gives him. All woeful sad puppy dog eyes and Michael, please, because Jeremy’s a shit. “I don’t know, Jeremy. It’s not like people come out this way that often, you know?”

Jeremy cocks his head like he’s thinking about it, and okay, now is not the time.

“Thanks for driving me out here, I’ll pay you back for it later,” he promises, because they’re a long way out of town and gas is expensive these days.

Jeremy snorts, waving it off as he gestures to the mansion. “You want me to come with you?”

In case Ryan is a serial killer or something worse, and honestly, Jeremy’s a good guy. (A fucking idiot, sure, but still a good guy.)

Michael glances at the mansion. Takes in the way it’s pretty fucking intimidating against a steel gray sky, more storm clouds in the distance because the weather is miserable this time of year.

“Nah,” he says. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m good.”

Jeremy’s eyebrows shoot up, because yeah, no, this whole situation is sketchy as hell.

“Really.”

Michael shrugs. It’s hard to explain, but he’s just here to yell at Ryan. Shake some sense into him if he can, but mostly it’s the yelling thing.

Jeremy’s got work later and the lawyer can drive Michael home, no need to hang around for his ass.

“Yep,” he says, and pushes off Jeremy’s car to head inside, ignoring Jeremy as he yells after him.

========

“Michael,” Ryan says, fidgeting with the book he’s holding. Science fiction author Ryan seems to like, filling the bookshelves in the library he’s taken over. “I didn't expect to see you here again.”

Michael narrows his eyes at that, gaze flitting toward the lawyer who’s off in a corner on his phone. Big hand gestures and this note to his voice like his life is a disaster and hahaha, no, really, I need you to do this One Thing, for the love of God.

“No?” Michael asks, and holds up the folder of paperwork Ryan’s lawyer dropped off with him. “Weird.”

Ryan...winces, rubs a hand over his face.

“Ah,” he says. “That.”

Yes, Michael thinks. ’That’ indeed.

Like Ryan’s lawyer said, it’s an offer.

A job offer. Personal assistant to the human disaster that is Ryan Haywood and various perks and benefits that would go along with said job offer.

Such as ridiculous amounts of money as payment, his own room(s) at the mansion, pick of the cars in the garage – excluding Ryan’s personal one- and a whole slew of things that most people would have to sell their souls to get.

And here Ryan is offering all of that plus some to Michael after knowing him for less than a day.

It’s suspicious as hell and while part of Michael is screeching at him at to swallow his pride and agree, the rest is...annoyed.

Because Ryan – vampire or just a run of the mill serial killer – is real fucking stupid.

For all he knows Michael could be a goddamned serial killer, and here the idiot it inviting him into his home like it’s no big deal. A place in the middle of nowhere where no one would discover the body for quite some time and what the actual fuck is wrong with this idiot?

“I thought Kerry explained it to you?” Ryan says, backing up a step when Michael scowls at him. “We went over the contract several times, and while I admit he is young, he’s very thorough.”

Oh, Kerry was very clear on the terms and conditions of the contract. Bright and cheerful as he went over it in excruciating detail, yes. Answered all of Michael's questions with confidence and only faltered when Michael told him he’d need time to think it over before he’d kicked Kerry out of his apartment and stewed.

Read the damn thing over and over, going through what fine print there was with a fine-toothed comb just in case and realizing for all the legal babble there was, it was a straightforward offer.

No strings attached, and Michael was free to stay in his apartment in the city instead if he felt more comfortable with that. And he'd still have his pick of the cars and everything else. Could negotiate any terms and conditions until all parties were satisfied and honestly he shouldn’t be annoyed at how accommodating Ryan is trying to be with this, but he is.

Part of it has to do with Michael’s own stupid pride, he’s not a fucking charity case okay. More than capable of looking after himself even if it lands him in the trouble every once in a while. The rest is just.

Baffled at how stupid Ryan is.

“You don’t even know me,” Michael says, because it’s true, isn’t it? They’re virtual strangers and yet here Ryan is ready to let him into his odd little home for no reason. “Why go to so much trouble for me?”

Michael knows all about Ryan’s woes with his dead relative’s lawyers, knows Kerry works for the same legal firm. That Ryan chose him to handle his own personal legal matters and apparently that includes helping draft a job offer for Michael or whatever the hell.

Ryan fidgets, looking every which way but at Michael and otherwise stalls until he can’t any longer.

Looks awkward as hell, sheepish and worst of all, guilty.

“...I like you,” he says after a long, painful moment. “And believe it or not, I don’t get a lot of company out here.”

Well, yeah.

Creepy mansion in the middle of nowhere? No shit he doesn’t get visitors out here. Michael bets he doesn’t even get the goddamned Girl Scouts breathing down his neck when cookie season rolls around.

Ryan sighs, glancing at Kerry who is still on his phone and oblivious to the two of them.

“I know what it’s like to be in a bad place in life,” he says, makes this vague hand gesture meant to encompass that spot in his own life. “And since I have the means to help you out – or try to – I did.”

He winces again before looking up at Michael.

“I didn't think it through at the time,” he admits. “I realize it seems...sketchy.”

Among other things, yeah.

Michael sighs, because he gets it, he does.

Ryan’s a sweet guy, if a bit misguided.

“Look,” Michael says, not sure what to say next because what the hell does he say next? “I’m not mad about it - “

Ryan snorts, corners of his mouth quirking.

“Shut up, I’m not,” Michael insists. “Annoyed, sure, because you’re an idiot, but I’m not mad.”

He really isn’t.

And...that sense of wounded pride is quiet now that Ryan’s explained himself. Awkward and fumbling, but his offer seems to have come from a good place.

Michael would be a fool to turn Ryan’s offer down, let his pride get the better of him. He’s not the smartest guy out there by a long shot, might not get a better opportunity than this in his life, and -

He’s lonely too, even with people like Gavin and Jeremy and the other assholes he met since moving out here.

Ryan’s out here by himself, living somewhere he doesn’t seem all that happy to be, and here he is trying to do a good thing for some asshole he barely knows.

Michael looks at Ryan, the tired little smile on his face that looks stiff and painful, and feels guilty for being the sort of asshole he is.

The truth of the matter is Michael doesn’t want to kill himself for minimum wage working in a warehouse or whatever other shitty job he’ll land at some point.

He’s tired of barely scraping by and while Ryan’s offer was way over the top, he can work with it. Whittle it down to something more manageable, easier to live with and not feel like he’s taking advantage of Ryan’s generosity.

Ryan must realize it, because he cocks his head as Michael starts talking.

========

Kerry left hours ago and took the amended contract with him.

There are still sections that need to be gone over, finalized before anyone sets pen to paper but overall Michael's feeling more comfortable about it.

He had to argue Ryan down on a few points  because goddamn the man’s an idiot, but with Kerry on his side he got his point across. (Ryan still thinks Michael’s being the dumb one here, but honestly it’s still Ryan.)

“You’re incredibly dumb,” Michael says, listing to the storm closing in on the mansion outside, one that's bound to be another doozy. “Like. So much, it’s hard to believe anyone could be that dumb.”

Ryan sends him an annoyed look, and on that huge flat screen television of his, Michael's character goes down in a spray of blood and choked off cry.

Another goddamned headshot from fucking nowhere.

“Oh?” Ryan says, smile full of teeth. “Is that so?”

Michael snorts because yeah, yeah. The guy’s a pro with the fucking sniper rifle but the moment Michael gets in close enough to make the damn thing irrelevant, he’s pretty fucking easy to deal with.

“Yeah,” Michael answers, flashing him a grin. “It is.”

========

Look, Michael has no clue what’s going on in his life anymore, alright?

He’s got a better job lined up for himself than anything he’s had before even if he’s not sure he’s qualified for it. An idiot of a boss who may or may not be a vampire or just a run of the mill serial killer, and somehow all of this is okay with him because Michael is also an idiot.

Michael doesn’t know what he’s doing, but Ryan’s laughing at some dumb joke he just told and the storm outside seems small and inconsequential.

The company’s not half bad, so Michael will keep on keeping on for now and deal with whatever shit comes his way the way he always does.

[exsanguisdraconis]

i don’t have a blog for this so even tho i’m supposed to be fixing this blog up and getting active i’m going to use this blog to viciously complain about HBO’s His Dark Materials. the below opinions are overwhelmingly negative so if you aren’t interested in that, don’t read it.

I just... don’t understand these writers. I feel like over the course of the five episodes we’ve had that I’ve been very laid back. My expectations were high, I’ll admit that, because I needed SOMETHING to save me from the absolute shit tornado that was The Secret Commonwealth. I needed some good HDM to lift me up from that low and I was counting on the show. Maybe that was unfair. 

To start off with some good things the show, for the most part, looks really nice. Most of the actors are really good. I was pleasantly surprised about the number of POC in the cast. The daemons, though not focused on nearly enough, still look really nice. Ruth Wilson is phenomenal in her role as Mrs. Coulter and even in the couple of scenes where I was like “why did they add this to her character” Ruth acts it out so well I’m happy to just accept it. I think this show is adding in a lot of the complexity to her character that Pullman always wanted, and given she was one of my first “older villain woman I definitely shouldn’t be in love with but am” crushes in media I’m thrilled about that.

My main problem with the show is that it’s---boring. And it’s ridiculously frustrating because it feels like you have to put effort into making it so bland and dry.

The newest episode is an absolute train wreck that lumps together all the minor issues I’ve had with the show into one big pile of shit.

First off I’ve never seen Dafne Keen in anything else. I don’t know if she’s a good actress. I know that in this, she’s really really bad. Even when they put her in emotional scenes, her inability to act like she has real human emotions sucks the life out of them. When Coram was recounting the story of his lost son in the last episode I went from being a little choked up to almost laughing with how much it just didn’t seem like Lyra gave a fuck. Her delivery is so monotone that it just zaps the feeling out of everything she touches.

Secondly what the fuck happened with Billy Costa. Or more specifically what the fuck happened with how they chose to handle the scenes with Billy. The death of Billy, the reactions of people toward him, the dialogue from Iorek, these are some of the most interesting parts of the book. But rather than having Lyra ask, get denied, and then ask Iorek to take her anyway, whisking her off into the night and encountering the witches and creeping into the fishing village where they’re met with terrified villagers... they spend several scenes with Lyra just asking people if she can go. And it’s not even heated argument or charming wit. It’s just “I want to go” and “No it’s out of the way and too dangerous.” Over and over again. 

This really hits on a big problem I have with a lot of media right now where they want to tell me something rather than show it. Usually because that’s the cheaper route of doing things. I get it. The bear is probably difficult and costly to animate... however, why have him IN the show at all if he doesn’t get to be a proper character with proper emotional building scenes. I would have much rather them cut that scene where he’s just giving exposition on bears to Lyra in favor of him telling Lyra about the witches going to war and shaming the people for not having Lyra’s bravery in dealing with Billy Costa. Because those are scenes that tell us something about Iorek the character, and that’s always going to mean more than general lore about Svalbard’s bears.

You see it doesn’t mean anything to me to hear the words “it’s dangerous” or “something is really wrong here” and then not.... see it. The scene with Billy is meant to turn your stomach. You’re supposed to think “who the fuck are these people mutilating children in this way” as Billy repeatedly clings to a dead, dried fish and vacantly asks “where’s Ratta” over and over. And something that adds to that revulsion is seeing how other people treat this small, innocent, injured child. It’s not with compassion and sadness. People are AFRAID of Billy. They don’t want to look at him or touch him. The fishermen beg for Iorek and Lyra to come and relieve them of this evil being. They have no compassion for this child, no outrage for what has been done to him. All they have is fear. 

And maybe I missed Iorek’s iconic “when I’m afraid I will master my fear” but I’ve watched the episode through twice and haven’t found HIM saying it first. So Lyra not wanting to look like a coward in front of him, and Lyra mastering her fear in favor of compassion for Billy means NOTHING. Because it wasn’t in the show. There was no scene where Lyra sees that Billy’s daemon substitute has been ripped from his dead hands and she flies into a rage at the utter disrespect of the people around her. There’s no scene where she gives him the coin with Ratta’s name scratched out in an attempt to give him that dignity and respect that was ripped from him before he died. So what did we get to replace these deeply emotional and telling scenes? Two sing-a-longs from people that can’t goddamn sing.

The thing about these scenes is they’re very straight forward, and we don’t care enough about Ma Costa or John Fa to care that they’re sad. At most they tell us “the Gyptian people are united” but we’ve already seen that. It was the FIRST thing they showed us about them. What we haven’t seen yet in this show is Lyra’s character development. Where Lyra starts to go from a pigheaded, selfish child into a more mature and compassionate person. These scenes rob the situation of deeper meaning. Because we KNOW Billy’s mom is sad, we don’t necessarily need to see it. The story isn’t about her or John Fa. The story is about Lyra, and by cutting more meaningful scenes where she deals with Billy and shows him compassion, and instead just showing her be a little sad at his grave side... it feels flat and emotionless. I didn’t feel sickened or sad for Billy.

I’ve read the books over a dozen times, and out of the series I feel like The Golden Compass/Northern Lights is the most special. It is paced well and filled to the brim with interesting characters and when things happen they happen for a reason. The show is making cheap shots at my emotions by showing a crying mother and honestly it’s bouncing off the rim.

To be clear I WANT this show to work. I felt like episode 4 was perfect. I had absolutely no complaints aside from Lin-Manuel Miranda’s painful attempt at a southern accent. I LIKE that they’re showing a bit of Will’s backstory rather than try and juggle flashbacks or exposition in season 2 (if they get a s2 and I don’t think they will unfortunately). In fact, it seems like most of the scenes they add in for themselves, most of the details they insert, actually have a lot of depth and feeling. Mrs. Coulter’s relationship with her daemon and her scenes of dialogue that hint at her self loathing is brilliant. The scene where Tony and his friend break into her home in defiance of Ma Costa and the others is exciting and emotional. 

Third and finally I just feel like this show is trying too hard to say “I’m not the movie.” First off, I don’t think The Golden Compass was a terrible movie. There are a lot of things I don’t like, but when I think of a terrible remake I think of Gerard Butler playing the Phantom of the Opera and the train wreck into a flaming pile of dumpsters that entire movie was. And I think this show is trying so hard to avoid certain lines and scenes that were in the movie that it’s killing some of the best content from the book that they could pull from. The big problems with the movie didn’t have anything to do with the dialogue or source material, but rather pacing, acting, and set design choices that were made. 

Idk. I hope we get a season 2 and I also kinda don’t care. Because if this is what they’re going to do with The Golden Compass I’m a little worried about what they’ll wind up doing with the other books in the series. And I feel bad because I genuinely like His Dark Materials, I even really enjoyed La Belle Savage. Sure the newest book was.... bad. Really bad, but at the very least the first three books of His Dark Materials deserve a really good show or movie and I feel like between some of the direction choices and Dafne’s acting (which I’m not entirely certain isn’t due to choices from the directors) in some ways this show is way, way worse than the movie ever was.

[bipercabeth]

So, can we hear your thoughts on TS7? I remember your breakdown for the Ben Platt album and wanted to hear what you have to say about Lover

oh man, i already know this has to go under the cut. i have,,, so many feelings

i forgot that you existed - this song is such a good opener for the album. both the lyrics and production are so light and carefree, which makes it the perfect transition from the intensity of reputation to the softness of lover. she’s not reinventing herself, she’s growing. i love the way she plays with harmonies in the chorus! and i adore how the last line of the verses swells ominously before releasing into the playful staccato of the chorus, i think it’s really indicative of the anxiety surrounding the situation vs the simple and relative ease with which it was all forgotten

cruel summer - tbh i’m glad this wasn’t a single in the place of ME! or yntcd because listening to this was literally a full body experience. it would’ve killed as a lead single, but it definitely hit harder for me hearing for the first time in the context of the album. i read the lyrics of the first five songs when they leaked and genuinely thought i wasn’t going to like this song, but i went absolutely feral at the bridge. (also upon listening i adored the lyrics, so i will no longer be trusting my opinions based on lyrics alone.) if i wasn’t sold on the rest of it, the bridge is what solidified this as one of my favorites on the album. the way the synths build and then cut out for HE LOOKS UP GRINNIN LIKE A DEVIL,,, i lost my shit. astral projected. if this song is playing, i will not turn it off before i get to scream that line. also “i love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?” is incredible. 

lover - words cannot describe my love for this song. my friend veronica described it as the love song of our generation and honestly? she’s not wrong. lover’s lyrics are simple, but hit like a ton of bricks regardless. the key to simple lyricism is finding the words that everyone has always wanted to say (lean on me is a really good example of this but i’m not going to get into songwriting theory on this post) and lover does exactly that. simple descriptions of simple acts are her window to how all-encompassing this love is. the 6/8 timing (a fucking WALTZ y’all) gives it the 2 in the morning kitchen dance feel. it’s a love song in every aspect. i’m never gonna be over it. 

the man - a bop. the low notes in this song? incredible, especially in the bridge. those low harmonies took me OUT! the first line of the chorus is so killer as well. and she says bitch twice! taylor said i am 29 i curse and have sex, get over it. there’s less to analyze in this song, but that doesn’t mean i’m not in love with it. 

the archer - i am telling you i heard the first goddamn synth note and KNEW jack antonoff was all over this song. i really needed this song to come out when it did, because after those two singles,, i needed some hope for this album. it did not disappoint. the slow build of the synths into one massive crescendo at the bridge instead of the usual rise and fall of most pop music. every single note builds to the bridge, to the anxiety of that repeated they see right through me, to the cause all of my enemies started out friends / help me hold on to you. it swells like the slow draw of a knocked arrow, like an archer taking aim. and then all at once, it fades like the string was released. i adore every single aspect of this song. 

i think he knows - my percabeth loving ass needs to take a second to talk about the line i am an architect, i’m drawing up the plans and how it sent me to the fucking moon. but anyway. different post. it is physically impossible for me to stay still when this song plays. the harmonies on that AH in the chorus made me lose it. i want you, bless my soul is so southern and absolutely beautiful. she’s straight up pining in this song, and she knows it. that way she closes the song with that line on loop? sets the tone so well.

miss americana and the heartbreak prince - i have no idea why i didn’t like this song upon first listen, but now i like it! still not my favorite on the album, but the bar is high. 

paper rings - god i cannot believe that she said his friends were high at the met gala i’m fucking dead. this whole song is peak old taylor, just grown up. it’s got the same catchiness as stay stay stay, but with a more grown (but still fun) outlook. this one is real experience talking, and it shows. she’s got the love she always wanted to write about! i’m not okay! 

cornelia street - her delivery really makes the song for me. you can physically feel how much she loves joe and how real that fear of losing him. that stripped down chorus after the bridge where her voice breaks? she’s so in love. i’m so in love. 

death by a thousand cuts - GOD i love this song with everything in me, even more since watching Someone Great. it’s the perfect narrative song for that movie. it also contains the single most Taylor Swift^tm lyric of all time: but if the story’s over, why am i still writing pages? ALSO? WE WANNA TALK ABOUT BRIDGE CITY?? this bridge goes so hard. i can’t convey my love for it unless we’re in the car together so i can scream it properly. ultimate car song. 

london boy - so fun! people who are upset over this song gotta calm down, it’s a fun, catchy song. i don’t have much to say about it, but i enjoy it! i won’t go out of my way to queue it, but it’s cute and cheeky and i like it.

soon you’ll get better - i knew from the first goddamn guitar lick that this was going to wreck me, but once i realized what it was about,,, i didn’t stand a chance. i literally went back after my first listen through the whole album and listened to this song on loop for at least half an hour and just. sobbed. it hits home way too hard for me. again with that devastatingly simple songwriting. you’ll get better soon / cause you have to absolutely destroyed me. also, this is a really small detail, but that breath at 2:41 really does me in. it’s so defeated, i can’t. her delivery in this one is an absolute gut punch.

false god - jack antonoff is all over this one and i love it for that. taylor swift said i fuck and i respect that. the sax? get out of here. it’s so perfect. it’s horny, but like,,, emotionally horny. perfect fit for this album. i adore it.

you need to calm down - okay ngl i don’t like this song or ME!, but i’m really glad they were singles because if i heard them on this album for the first time i would’ve been :/ about it. instead we got that right out of the way and now i can appreciate the good parts of them. the oh’s in the chorus are really pretty! i don’t actively dislike this song, but i don’t actively like it either. 

afterglow - i love that taylor put a song about fighting on this album. i think this made the album feel so much more real. it’s about love, and fighting is a part of that! we break a little from the picture perfect aspect of songs like paper rings and get a little grittier. people make mistakes, but the love guides the choice to stay, to ask for forgiveness and promise to do better. this makes the entire narrative of lover so much stronger.

ME! - same sentiment as yntcd in terms of it being the lead single, except i’m really not a fan of this song. i can handle it up until the spelling is fun part. i cannot believe “can’t spell awesome without me” is so close to daylight. i appreciate the point of the song and what she sets out to do with it, but i just. can’t get over that damn bridge. 

it’s nice to have a friend - i really didn’t like this song at first and i’m still warming up to it, but i definitely am! it’s such a percabeth song. i’m not sure why i didn’t like it, probably because it doesn’t escalate or go anywhere, but i think that steadiness contributes to the meaning of it

daylight - i could literally write an entire essay on this song alone. it’s the perfect closing song for this album. i don’t want to see anything else now that i saw you / i don’t want to think of anything else now that i’ve thought of you are literally the most tender lines i have heard in my whole life. the comparison between this and her notes from red make me openly weep. the bridge of this song literally feels light daylight, it shines and feels warm and god i love love! i once believed love would be burning red, but it’s golden made me cry when i heard it. i can’t stop thinking about that quote that says “lover is the sound of a songwriter getting to write the album she’s always wanted to write”. i could literally cry just thinking about that. she got to write the album about golden love! her whole career is based around singing and writing about love, and now she has exactly what she’s been grasping at all this time. it’s downright poetic. the monologue/outro only did me in more. she’s spent so long being defined by other people, and here she makes that definition for herself on an album that she owns every part of. it’s perfect. 

[spectral-musette]

So I saw the new live-action Aladdin last night.

Like Beauty and the Beast (2017), this was a direct remake of the animated musical from the Disney Renaissance, songs and all, with a new script following the same storyline. BatB (2017) worked a little better for me, personally, I think, but that’s quite subjective, and I can definitely see people preferring Aladdin (2019).

This movie faces the similar trouble of BatB in that Aladdin (1992) is such a beautiful film that it would be very difficult to improve on it without just making a unique film rather than a remake (more in the style of Cinderella (2015), for instance). But the degree to which we follow the storyline of Aladdin (1992) and faithfully re-stage those songs makes direct comparisons inevitable, and, in terms of my own preference, Aladdin (1992) is usually coming out on top.

Visually speaking, it’s very colorful and appealing, but it doesn’t quite have the same distinctive palette that Aladdin (1992) does. A lot of the settings (while beautiful) seemed to be CG, so while having a sense of not occupying the real world wasn’t necessarily bad for this type of over the top fantasy film, I think I could’ve used a little more grounding.

The one thing that 2019 has over 1992 is casting people of color. I thought the cast was great, and any nitpicks I have with characterization come down to the script, not the performances, which were excellent.

I’ve marked any plot points that significantly differ from Aladdin (1992) as (SPOILERS) and with a strikethrough.

By musical number:

 Arabian Nights:

I actually quite liked this. The friend that I was in the theatre with said she was a bit thrown by the recognition of Will Smith’s voice, but it didn’t bother me. The new lyrics were good, and I loved the use of the verse from the old animated tv series (“take off and take flight/may shock and amaze” etc.).

One Jump Ahead:

This was the song I struggled the most with. The slow down of the tempo absolutely didn’t work. To me, this needs to be a fast-paced song to convey the adrenaline and momentum of the scene. By tying it to a slower, heavy beat, it felt positively plodding. The singing was certainly fine and I liked Aladdin’s voice a lot, but the tempo was killing me.

Jasmine’s New Song (Speechless):

Jasmine absolutely needed at least one more song. This one was fine; it sounded a bit pop, but I’m sure the original songs sounded pop at the time too. I think I’d have to give it another listen to see how it fits with the musical themes of the new score and with the other songs.

Friend Like Me:

Not much change in content from the original song, but different delivery, of course. If you are able to like Will Smith’s take on the Genie despite it not being the same as Robin Williams’, you’ll probably be okay with this.

Prince Ali:

Somehow felt very stagey, not in a bad way? Again, pretty similar to the original song, though I did note the “correction” from “brush up your Sunday salaam” to “Friday salaam”.

A Whole New World:

Pretty singing of a pretty song, no major lyric changes. The friend I was with complained about the slow tempo of this one, but it didn’t bother me the way that One Jump Ahead did.

Prince Ali (reprise): DIDN’T HAPPEN D: and I missed it a lot. Reprised “Speechless” instead, which was certainly dramatic, but the lyrics seemed lackluster here. A big feature of the classic Aladdin songs is that they tend to be wordy and eloquent (Howard Ashman’s touch, I guess, and no doubt Tim Rice too), so it felt a little out of place.

Surprisingly, we didn’t even have a pop cover of Speechless for the end credits. Maybe I was spoiled by three new songs that I liked in BatB (2017), but I felt like there was room for more additions in this film.

By major character:

Aladdin: Mena Massoud was excellent, loved the boy. Adorable as heck (the eyes and the smile), and very charming. His singing was good, though I felt like he could’ve used a little more of a chance to impress. The physicality of the role was amazing, both in his parkour scenes in Agrabah, and with the (SPOILERS) dance number in which the Genie is controlling Aladdin’s movements. The performance of doing complex dance steps while selling that he wasn’t in control of his own body was superbly done.

The thing I missed most about the animated version of the character was that this Aladdin didn’t quite seem to be quite the quick-thinking trickster that Animated Aladdin is. There’s an element there, but it didn’t come across as strongly to me. Animated Aladdin takes to the role of Prince Ali pretty handily, and his missteps are when he overacts it, being too much like how he thinks a prince should be. In contrast, New Aladdin is pretty paralyzed by nerves, which was charming in its way, just different. There’s also a change that we see New Aladdin stealing valuables to make a living, (though clearly not a great one) as a pickpocket, compared to Animated Aladdin who we only ever see steal food for himself and others (despite his klepto monkey). The dynamic with Genie is different too, less openly affectionate, but that’s also a factor of Genie’s change in characterization. I think it also is factor in inter-character dynamics that Animated Aladdin skews a bit younger, still a teenager, while New Aladdin is more grown up, a young man.

Abu: Abu’s CG face was a little uncanny valley to me. I think I would’ve preferred to see something more like the performance of Jack the Monkey in the PotC films, even if it wouldn’t have been quite as expressive and human-like as animated Abu. However, I do get that working with animals is pretty tough, and I see why the choices were made.

The Genie: Will Smith was doing his thing, and I didn’t really expect anything else. I warmed pretty well to his take on the character. He absolutely doesn’t do the quick-quippy motor-mouthed slapstick style of Robin Williams’ Genie, and it’s probably better that way. His performances of the iconic songs were solid, I think, striking a balance of nostalgia and novelty. How an individual viewer might want that balance to lean is going to vary, though.

I thought the film might’ve undersold the Genie’s longing to be free of the lamp. This was especially noticeable in the scene where Aladdin tells him that he can’t use his third wish to free him. Original Genie reacts with hurt and betrayal, New Genie redirects the conversation to be about Aladdin continuing to lie to Jasmine about his identity, buying his own con, as it were. Part of it is that New Genie is a little more emotionally reserved, plays things a bit closer to the (absent) vest. I think the case could’ve been made that Genie never really expected Aladdin to follow through on that promise, but as it was, it just didn’t quite ring true.

(SPOILERS)

I did really like the storytelling framing of the beginning of the film, but I thought it was underused! It would have been charming to Princess Bride the whole narrative, with the kids interjecting occasionally, and seeing the story through their eyes with their father playing the role of the Genie. Let the audience buy the storytelling device, and at the end when the kids are expressing their incredulity that such a story could be true, the reveal to the audience that their mother is the princess’s handmaiden would’ve been enough to leave the ambiguity – is the Mariner really truly the Genie, or is it just a story? I think that could’ve been lovely.

Princess Jasmine: Naomi Scott is beautiful, has a lovely voice, and gave a charming performance. I do wish they had cast someone who looks a little more like Animated Jasmine, but I don’t dislike New Jasmine. Giving Jasmine a strong motivation to become a leader, be her father’s successor, and make a positive difference in the lives of the people in her city was nice.

Jafar: While still menacing, Jafar lost some of the gleeful mustache twirling evil of Animated Jafar. I missed that high, cruel laughter and the disdainful aristocratic bearing. I do understand avoiding some of the iconic lines, but unfortunately the replacements weren’t… as good. New Jafar had interesting aspects, but it seemed like some of his story arc might’ve gotten left on the cutting room floor. It really seemed at first that we were implying that Jafar had actually murdered Jasmine’s late mother, but the movie just never picked up that thread. It wasn’t a bad performance, just a different character.

Iago: Iago seemed sort of in limbo between being a true magicians familiar, a fully realized character as in the animated film, and just being a parrot. I think going entirely in either direction would’ve been an improvement over what we got (mostly parrot behavior with occasional phrases that seemed to show independent thought). I think Jafar suffered a bit from this reduction of Iago’s role too– is it harder to have a dark comedy double act with an actual realistic parrot? (Parrot owners probably disagree)

Dahlia: An original character, and an interesting addition: Jasmine’s handmaiden (allowing Jasmine to pull some Padme-style who-is-the-real-princess shenanigans early in the film). She was charming, sweetly awkward at times, and (SPOILERS) though the b-plot romance between her and the Genie wasn’t quite pulled off with the panache it could’ve been (it’s no Lumiere/Plumette, okay?), it was cute and I liked it okay. Interestingly, her features were probably a closer match to animated Princess Jasmine.

Carpet: Probably the most faithful to the characterization in (1992). I have always adored Carpet, and I thought the gestures and movements of the CG version nicely captured the spirit of the original, though I think with comparatively less screentime? I genuinely reacted with anxiety every time Carpet was in danger even though I obviously knew everything was going to be all right in the end. #I can’t believe it, I’m losing (my heart) to a rug

There were definitely moments that I felt like a sequel was being set up, which is an interesting choice considering how notoriously bad The Return of Jafar is. That said, I do think you could absolutely pull some story elements from that hot mess and Aladdin and The King of Thieves (which is charming in its way but still direct to video quality) and actually make a film that would be able to flesh out this new version of the story and blossom outside the shadow of the original animated film. I’m not sure that’s going to actually happen, but it would be interesting to see.

[moviepower]

Five Feet Apart is one of the most touching films

The book Five Feet Apart, and the filmAnd the premise of this film is a pair of teenagers with life threatening illnesses, meet in a hospital.The whole world has probably already seen Five Feet Apart, which is not surprising, because the film brings tears. And of course fall in love. Now the disease showcased in this film is a disease called cystic fibrosis. And if you guys don't know what it is, just a quick summary, this is a life threatening disorder that damages the lungs and the digestive system.

It is very rare. There are fewer than 200,000 cases, U S per year. And it is something that cannot be cured at this moment. Although there is treatment available. Now, I recently met someone through Instagram who has. Cystic fibrosis. He actually reached out to me. We got in contact with each other. He is a content creator as well, although a very different style of content.

I looked into what he does and I have to give this guy a shout out because his work is incredible. Take a look at his works of art. These are all original works of art. He is, he has an Instagram page and a YouTube channel. I will link both of those below. I just found this. Yeah, incredible. And for someone who has cystic fibrosis to do what he does.

And to overcome that disease with works of art like this guys that is incredible. I hope to have some of his artwork up back here, one of these days, and the guy is just awesome. So please give him a follow on Instagram and on you. But now we have to talk about the movie five feet apart. Let's get into it.

The cast wasn't very well known, but it worked

Are I five feet apart? First off, we have to talk about this cast because if you are a fan of the Disney channel, in my opinion, when it was in its prime, you have things like Hannah Montana and a sweet life, Zack and Cody, and two of those stars are actually in this movie. You have Cole Sprouse from Zack and Cody and Moises Arias from Hannah Montana, Tana, what a cast or water crew.

And I will get into those two in just a second, but I have to start. With what I believe to be the standout of this film and that Haley Lou Richardson. She is phenomenal in this movie mind. Oh goodness guys. One of the best leading actor's performance, there's one of the best leading performances I have seen all year.

You put her in any possible role and she always killed it. I have never seen her in a movie where she films as a performer. And once again, she stood out. She stole the show in mind, my opinion. There's one other character in there that I really loved. But really she is the main focus of this film from an acting perspective.

And she nails it. Kimberly Gregory plays, nurse Barb. I also thought she nailed it. She was hilarious. She brought the perfect level of humor to a movie like this because when they tried the humor, as in the younger characters, it did not work as well. But when she brought in the humor, it was always hilarious because she was kind of the person coming in, putting them back on track, where they need to be health wise.

The book Five Feet Apart, and the film

And it was always awesome. And she also nailed the emotion. There were some very emotional moments, especially towards the end of this film, as you can probably predict. And she nails that they all nail it really especially hailing the Richardson button, nurse, Barb. She was one of the best in this film. You can't dislike Jojo Rabbit.

And many people are going to find this film sweet and touching and emotional. And I'm sure there will be tears. I guarantee there were tears tonight in the theater that I was in. I heard some sniffling towards the end, just because it is one of those stories that I think is going to be a crowd pleaser.

It is going to do it. Everything that that age range from, I would say 13 to 18, 19, maybe even early college, that group, those individuals will love this film because that's what they're going for. That's what they do. And it's exactly what you get. And my big issue with this moving, I don't hate me just because I'm giving you guys problems.

There are definitely problems with this film. And it is a movie that is exactly what you expect. It doesn't really take any chances. It doesn't do things that you would say, Oh, that's not conventional. That's not cliche. It is fall in there. This genre, there's not much more you can do to change it up. So I can't make that a debt to this film in particular, but it plays up this romance in such a sloppy way.

There was a lot of emotion in the full movie

Now a lot of people are going to like the romance because they like Cole Sprouse and they like Haley Richardson. They liked those too. Actors, but from a writing standpoint, if you really pay attention to the dialogue and the conversations, there really was not that much of a buildup in the first half of the film.

Now I know I will get arguments on that because once again, this is going to be the movie that appeals to this demographic. I am not necessarily that demographic, but I still felt the emotion from certain scenes experiences. I just can't get past the scripts. Some of the dialogue, especially towards the end.

And I've mentioned Cole Sprouse. One of the reasons that I've not really highlighted him yet. Is because he was not, and don't hurt me for this. He was not a highlight of the movie for me. I like him. I've liked what I've seen in Riverdale, but in this film he was so over the top and so cheesy and yes, the dialogue was cheesy.

So I don't know whether it's him to blame or the dialogue to blame. But he was also, his line delivery was a bit flat. There's a moment towards the end where he comes to a window and every line he delivers, I'm sitting there like, come on, you can't be buying this. This is some of the worst dial. And of course people are going to buy it because once again, it's just that kind of movie.

It's great to see on Netflix

And if you're in it, you're in, it is going to tug on those heart strings and pull on your emotion in a way. Emotionally manipulative, because you will be so sad and emotional towards the end. You may forget about the flaws. And I've done that before. I have been through movies that make me so physically upset and sad and emotional. A big applause for this great director.

I walked out going, Oh my gosh, what an experience. And then I started thinking about it and I go, huh? Well, the movie wasn't that great, but I have to give kudos to the filmmakers because it's the perfect way to do it. Leaving your audience on an emotional high will make them forget about the bad elements and the elements that struggle and the pacing problems that this movie has, because it's definitely there.

It drags this film. Felt so long for me, there are so many moments where they just expand the dialogue. I'm just like, can we move on? And I know this is based on a book and fans of the book are probably wanting to tear my head off right now. I do not know how the book compares to the movie. So I'd love to know in the comments section below is the book better? 

Is the movie better? Fight it out? And I hate to be blonde, but I don't want to tip toe around this. I think Cole Sprouse was a bad casting choice. They could have gotten someone a bit more dynamic, a bit less flat, someone with better line delivery. And I think I would have liked this movie. Quite a bit more, maybe it wasn't even Cole.

Soundtrack Five Feet apart is a strength

Maybe it was his character because I didn't feel a huge character arc. It felt like he's kind of a jerk. He's a bit of a douchebag and all of a sudden, boom, they're in love and they're all about it. They're all for it. I just did not feel the buildup to that. What happened. Out the romance. I did not get enough to believe in the relationship and if you're not in the relationship, then you will not get as emotional as everyone else watching the movie.

Now, I don't think that was the case. This movie definitely has its moments. I liked certain character interactions. There were some really funny moments, definitely the emotion, the emotion is what is going to make people walk, hanging out saying this is the best movie I've ever seen in my life. Because I feel like every time one of these teen romance movies come out in this vein, people are saying that this is the best film I've ever seen.

And I get it. Look, it's all about how movies make you feel. If they, they make you feel a certain way than do not change that perspective. If you, I love this movie, tell the world, and I want this film to make a lot of money because I love the concept. I love the idea. I have not read the book. But it seems like there's a lot of Goodwill behind it.

And because of all of those things, I really like what this is all about. It definitely did not all work for me, but it did enough for me to get this film to fresh because I do think it is what audiences want. And that is a 60%, a six out of 10. I think this film was okay. And I think a lot of people are going to like it, it is a crowd pleaser, for sure.

Tragic ending to the film Five Feet Apart

So be sure to go check it out and make up your own mind. So that's it guys. Five feet apart. Did you like it? Did you not like it? Are you in my camp? Are you completely on the other side? And you're saying, Austin, you, you hate people. Give you guys my honest opinion. That is all weekend. Do you guys are the absolute best?

Thank you so much for watching this video. I will be back very soon with another theatrical review, some more Netflix use. And of course the next episode of duty patrol, you guys are the absolute best and I will catch you. Very soon.

[iainwrites]

The Rise of Skywalker Likes and Dislikes

This is going to talk very bluntly and blatantly about things that happened in the movie.  So if you’ve been holding off on seeing it, here’s your warning.  Or if you don’t want to read someone criticizing something you enjoyed.  Skip past everything.

Likes:

-Finn at the beginning.  It’s nice to see his character growth from oblivious and try-to-hard former Stormtrooper, to still a little blundering Resistance fighter but still shows he’s capable, to a man confident in himself/in himself/in his friends and allies.

-When Chebacca learns of Leia’s death.  That’s the look of someone who has lost their oldest friends and don’t even have the strength to be angry.  There’s just loss.  THAT is one of the most powerful moments in this whole movie.

-Fine.  Ben’s “Okay bitches.  Now we can do this.” shrug before carving through the Knights is a great bit of physical acting and (I guess) comedy.

-The new main trio meet at the end and… hug.  No kissing.  No pairing off.  Three people who just survived a war and are happy that each is still alive.  Especially Finn.  This is his family and they’re okay.  Not everything has to end with hook-ups or resolved love triangles.  

Dislikes and Opinions:

-Palpatine.  Why?  He did his bit in the prequels, died in the OT, had no bearing in either TFA or TLJ.  So why bring him back now?

-What was the point of Rose in this?  She gets limited screen-time and doesn’t move the plot along.  The movie could have used this as a means to continue its slow show of representation, but apparently that’s a bridge too far.  But we did get Naomi Ackie as a supporting character of color with screentime and lines?  So we… traded?  Maintained?

-The fuck was with that Finn “I have something to tell you” line?  There was no lead in from any of the prior movies at all.  And no, it doesn’t count if it was revealed in the novelisation of either of the previous films.

-So Rey can sense Chewie is on a ship… but can’t tell that he’s on a different ship than the one she blows up?  Or that he’s not on the ship that she’s telekinetically fighting over?

-D-O is cute factor and nothing more or better.  Add onto that: Babu was there for cute factor.  And people shit on Jar Jar (me included) because he was written as something to entertain children.

-Rey is a Palpatine.  Why was that a choice that was made?  Why does she have to be related to anyone pre-existing in the Star Wars canon?  And why did things have to be explained not in the movie, but in tweets, interviews, the novelisation, etc?  Like the fact that Rey is a Palpatine.  Movie made you think that one of her parents was Sheev’s child, right?  Which one?  Sorry, didn’t tell us.  Oh, and it was her father, by the way.  Oh, and he wasn’t Palpatine’s child; he was actually a failed clone of Palpatine.  And that’s just one part.

-How does the blade work in the grand scheme of things?  Was it made after the destruction of the Death Star (because how else would it be able to line up so well with the wreckage)?  Who made it?  Why didn’t they pillage Palpatin’s hidden room of important shit?  Why didn’t they pass it on immediately to Kylo if he’s the second coming of Vader?

-Leia’s death.  Yes, all they had was archival footage.  So you mean to tell me that they couldn’t have done anything with that miraculous CGI technology to create a facial/vocal facsimile?  That they had no point of reference of ever doing that?  That there was absolutely no budget?  Or that rewrites were an impossible thing?  Because “Leia lays down, dies, and gives her son a moment to pause and get stabbed” isn’t doing right by Carrie Fisher or respecting her legacy.  That’s “Well, this is what we have.  Guess all we can do is use only what we have to make something and not put any more effort into it.”

-”We have no source material!” Except the whole “Emperor trying to find a new body” thing was done in Dark Empire.  As was the fact that the Emperor we saw was a clone that decayed rapidly without a Force-strong host.  And the fleet of ships to turn the tide of things was done with the Katana Fleet.  And Force Heal has been done in games like the GBA version of Revenge of the Sith.  And and and.

-Han Solo forgives his son!  Except it’s not Han, or a Force Ghost of Han (because Han wasn’t Force sensitive or trained to become self aware in the Cosmic Force after he died because that’s the explanation that they’ve been establishing in the Clone Wars TV series since the end of Season 6), but a figment of Ben’s imagination.  So Ben imagined that his father forgave him for murdering him.  … That’s not how it works.  If you’re imagining your murder victim forgiving you, there’s probably some deep psychological shit to deal with.

-People have talked about it, so I’ll hop on the train: how in the hell did Lando travel quickly enough to get that many ships when a distress call put out by Leia herself couldn’t shift asses?  How can he cover that much area, gather all those ships, then get through the mists or whatever the shit surround Exogal when one of those tracking beacon/map thingies have been set up as the only way a ship can travel through?

-For everything that Abrams did to negate TLJ, Palpatine’s monologue of Rey’s actions is very similar to Snoke’s monologue of Ren’s actions.  Down to the “HAHA PSYCH!” moment.

-The Knights of Ren are just a shit-show.  The name sounds cool, though, right!  Aaannnddd they’re killed off without a single line said or them proving to be any sort of threat representative of their “feared” name.

-Here’s something: when all the past Jedi are talking to Rey, you’re told who the male voices belong to (including stuff like Young Obi-Wan and Kanan).  But you only get Female Jedi 1 and Female Jedi 2.  That’s kind of fucked up and sexist, right?

-They set up Rey’s anger throughout the trilogy as being her path to the Dark Side (going as far to show what she could be like if she gives into those darker urges)... and never really do anything to resolve it.

-They REALLY lean into the idea that Finn is Force sensitive in this movie, don’t they?  Despite no evidence of it in any other movie.

-The random scene of just revived Rey grasping Ben’s hand and the frames drop (maybe that’s just my copy, but it's still a standout).  If it’s something everyone gets… then why the hell is something that glaring still in the movie.

-The kiss.  The novelisation said that the kiss was one of “gratitude,” but seriously?  Rogue One had a moment of gratitude where Jyn and Cassian are together and they… hug.  That’s it.  Piss off with your gratitude; there was a kiss because this movie substitutes sense with forced fanservice and they knew that people wanted to see Rey and Kylo together at some point.  Just like they likely kept Rose out of the movie because people gave Kelly Marie Tran shit.  Like that could have made the movie even possibly worse.

-Ben dies and fades away… and Leia’s body fades away at the same time.  Even though she’s been dead for a day+ at this point.  Because… she connected her spirit to her son?  See, that’s something I pulled completely out of thin air, but wouldn’t it be nice if that was the truth and the movie actually explained that was what happened instead of just giving random ass coincidences?

-Rey Skywalker.  Why does she have to be Rey Anybody?  There could have been such a positive spin to what she said earlier in the movie.  “Just Rey.”  Have her say it with pride and ownership now.  She’s her own person, unburdened by the names of those who have gone before.  She doesn’t have any name to live up to.

-Fuck you for your obvious, blatant and unecessary fanservice and self pleasing imagery where the twin suns are arranged to look like BB-8.  He’s not so important that one of the last lingering moments has to be of your new creation, Abrams.  You’re not so essential to Star Wars that you have to make a “HEY LOOK AT ME THE GUY WHO MADE THIS MOVIE” made-for-screenshots image.

Meh

-There’s no meh.  There are just rare moments of contentment amongst a constant feeling of disappointment and frustration.

Random Asides

-Kathleen Kennedy did an interview with Rolling Stone in November of 2019 leading up to The Rise of Skywalker.  You may have seen it float around, but she said “Every one of these movies is a particularly hard nut to crack. There’s no source material. We don’t have comic books. We don’t have 800-page novels.”  It’s in relation to how difficult it is to write and direct the movies, but come on.  There’s TONS of source material, dating as far back 1977 for the comics AND the novels.  There might not be 800 page novels, but there are trilogies, doulogies and massive story arcs that exceed those numbers (NJO and Legacy of the Force may not be your thing, but they’re there).  Rebels went and borrowed Zeb’s look from the original script AND took characters directly from Zahn’s Thrawn trilogy; Clone Wars pulled from Legends while Legends were still considered canon and afterwards.  Not all of it is good; it’d be difficult to translate a lot of it to screen without heavy edits these days.

“I love that we have these amazingly passionate fans who care so much. And I know sometimes they may think we don’t listen, but we do, and I thought it was fantastic that people got that engaged. It just showed me and everybody else how much they care. And that’s important for all of us that are doing this. We really look at them as the custodians of this story as much as [we are]. We look at it as kind of a partnership.”  Except when we’re not happy with a product that turns out to be sub-par.  Piss right off.

-Billie Dee Williams seems like he’s dropped in from a different movie entirely.  Not a bad thing; his delivery and presence is just so different from anyone else’s.

All In All

-It’s my least favorite of all the movies.  Worse than any of the prequels.  And say what you will about the prequels: at least they had a connecting story and the director didn’t try to kneecap something that happened in the middle movie before burying it in a shallow grave while taking a dump on the things left behind that didn’t fit in their vision.  It’s worse than Solo.  No amount of fanservice can fix the fact that the movie was by-and-large unenjoyable.