#carmen gets expelled

[loveaetingkids]

Book of Life or the secret behind Joaquin’s color palette 

Recently me and my friend @skimpilydressedwithanaxe were talking about how each reincarnation of Maria and Manolo have the same color present in their designs,for example Maria has red clothes in each of her life:

While Manolo has black inclusions either in clothes or hair:

But then we noticed how we can’t say the same about Joaquin:

Out of all Mondragons reincarnations,his outfit stands out like a sore thumb,considering that he doesn’t wear anything dark/purple.

Knowing how important the color palette is in Jorgverse (term made by @phoenixlionme ,not me) we decided to analyze and come with different conclusions as to why Joaquin looks so different from Acat or Zoe.

1.The artists simply forgot

This one is self explanatory:the film crew were too busy with the plot then easter eggs.Some could’ve been unaware of the “reincarnation law” going on.

2.The change was put there to visually indicate the dichotomy with Manolo

During many instances in film Manolo is shown as the black sheep in his family,which is reinforced by the fact that his matador clothes are mostly dark.Meanwhile Mondragon’s bright uniform is another indicator of his status as a beloved hero of San Angel.Knowing the proximity of purple to black, the designers decided to change Joaquim's key color to something lighter.

3.Joaquin will embrace the purple in (hopefully upcoming???) sequel

It was said in one of Jorge Gutierrez tweets(or in Wiki if you’re too lazy to search for it)that the Book of Life 2 will revolve around Joaquin looking for his father in the Land of Unknown.That can also be interpreted as Joaquin digging up his past and rethinking his actions,which may lead to the palette change.

4.A symbol of breaking the cycle

The fans of Jorgverse may have noticed how almost all reincarnations of Joaquin  are given the role of a “jealous third weel” ,trying to ruin or get between two lovebirds in order to have their crush all to themselves.But at the end of the movie,Joaquin comes off this path,deciding that the well being of his friends is more important that his ambition.So the blue in his outfit was given as the hint that he would feel different about Maria and Manolo’s union than his past lives,therefore the color change.

[r0tt3n-p1ckles]

[myths-of-fantasy]

I should be working on my other days

I am actually integrating magic more into The Black Wolf Capers.

Anyway VILE was now founded by a cult that worshipped a god, Greed who would offer his followers endless and eternal riches and is in constant conflict with the followers of Envy. Carmen was meant to be a vessel for Greed, merging with her soul to grant him physical form so he could better influence the world, but Dexter Wolfe tried to run off with her. It didn't work obviously, but eventually Carmen escaped before the transfer could happen.

Now VILE is chasing her around the world, both bc she's destroying their organization and also is preventing them from releasing Greed.

[cat-of-starlight]

I'd never think I'd see the day where I'd vote against a Projmoon character but yea

hate that wwoman so muchhhh

[savingcrxws]

EYES ON FIRE | maybe someday

[ prev chap ] [ next chap ]

synopsis. you and carmen just keep bumping into each other.

word count. 4.3k (gah damn)

warnings. language, hardly proofread again i'm sorry its an addiction

authors note. thank u guys so much for the support in these previous chapters! it’s really amazing to me that u guys enjoyed it so much! i would recommend listening to maybe someday by the cure for this chapter!

“Yeah, Sugar. The appointment is booked for Thursday, the reps will probably be coming in at like…three o’clock,” you mutter, flipping through the manila folder absolutely stuffed with documents and sticky notes. 

You pursue your lips at all you had to get done within this week alone–sign installation permit, permit to replace the hot water heater, permit to fix the ventilation systems, reapply for occupancy capacity signs because of the restaurants lack of other permits, and holy shit…

You completely forgot to schedule the follow-up appointment with the BACP consultant. 

You groan, slamming the thick folder into your forehead, the papers thwacking against your skull. Natalie sounds startled on the other end of the phone, no doubt hearing the sound on her end of the call. She questions if you’re okay, and you only respond with a gentle hum before tossing the folder back down on the office table. 

“Hey, Suge, do you think I can call you back later? I need to schedule a follow-up consultation with Raquel before another rep hops on my ass about the boiler replacement.” 

“Of course, hun, call me back whenever you can,” Sugar starts and you can hear some papers flicking in her side of the call as well.

You had managed to convince her to work from home more often, worried that all the stress from the demolition inside would affect her pregnancy and her overall wellbeing. After some back and forth, she had begrudgingly agreed to spend two days working on the project from the comfort of her own couch. 

And even though she complains still, you know she appreciates she has a little bit more time off of her feet. 

“Don’t work yourself too hard, okay, Bug?” 

You nod, even though you know she can’t see you. “Same for you, Bear.” Sugar hums once again before you both give your goodbyes and end the call. 

You expel all of the air out of your chest in a large puff as you slide down the office chair.

After signing onto Team Bear, your new home-away-from-home had been this tiny office in the back of the restaurant. For the most part, no one came in and disrupted your work, which allowed you to have your head shoved into piles of paperwork, be stuck on phone calls, and be forced to reread legal jargon for hours on end with little interruption. 

Well, as little interruption as there could be with the restaurant quite literally falling apart around you. 

Thankfully, everyone was very respectful of your work in helping the developing business. You were practically putting every ounce of knowledge that you learned from both college and the real-world experience (including connections within the industry) to help push the restaurant closer to the deadline. All the while still dealing with your other commitments to other businesses that you had prior to signing on to this project.

Staying at The Bear for eight hours a day had its benefits, though.

For example, there was always something entertaining going on in the background. Like last Tuesday, when Fak had decided to send a sledgehammer directly into the only remaining wall of the office–sending bits and pieces of drywall onto your clothes.

Another benefit of being stuck in that office chair is that you had an excuse to ignore everyone around you. And by everyone, you really mean Carmen.

After the awkward office run-in last week, the two of you hardly spoke to each other. Sure, there was the ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’ that you threw to each other and the words you exchanged when you caught him up on the status of licensing, but you two had yet to have an actual conversation.

It was clear that the both of you were still walking on eggshells around each other—and everyone could see it. But you had an inkling feeling that Carmen had been wanting to say something, judging by the short glances you sometimes catch him throwing in your direction.

Kinda similar to the one that he’s giving you right now.

You feel the heat of his stare on your face before you see it. He’d been staring at you for a couple moments now, long enough for you to no longer consider it an inquisitive glance.

You peek up from the folder and make solid eye contact with Carmen through the hole in the wall. The man flushes almost immediately, the red color sinking past his collar. You purse your lips and give a small nod of acknowledgment and he stutters in his spot.

And then he’s turning away.

Like he wasn’t the one just staring at you a moment ago.

You roll your eyes and turn back to your original position in the seat. Picking the folder up again, you flick to the papers listing the requirements for the next fire suppression test.

“Men,” you mutter, before picking up your phone and making a phone call.

Three days later, the office is completely demolished and your work revolving around The Bear has been moved to a family-owned coffee shop two blocks over.

In the short span of time, all of the walls in the store had been busted down and the restaurant had practically turned into a hazardous wasteland. And since construction was too far out of your pay grade, you decided to leave the heavy lifting up to everyone else.

“Alright, permit done!” You throw your hands up in the air, your theatrics catching the attention of a couple next to you. You could hardly care for the stares, though, you had been working on getting that permit for the past four days straight. Slamming your laptop shut, you pack up your bags and head off to the cash register to buy another coffee before you go.

While you wait for your drink, you decide to scroll aimlessly through your phone to kill some time.

“Oh shit,” you hear a voice utter behind you, and you barely have time to process the word before something ice cold is running down your back. “Fuck, I’m fucking sorry, I didn’t even see you—“

You gasp on reflex, taking a step forward and shivering. The person who spilled their drink on you is stuttering out apologies. The liquid seeps into the jacket you were wearing and you pull it off immediately.

“Yo, what the fuck, dude,” you curse, watching the large stain of coffee spread even farther across your jacket. “Watch where the hell you’re walking—”

In the middle of trying to give the perpetrator a piece of your mind, you failed to recognize the familiar sound of the voice that was spewing apology out of apology. But in a second, your eyes met a recognizable set of blue and you halted your words.

In front of you stands Carmen Berzatto. In his signature colored sweater and a half-spilled cup of coffee in his hand.

And he looks petrified.

It seems he didn’t realize just who was the unlucky victim to his americano attack either until you turned around. His mouth agape, he utters out a jumbled apology, glancing back at you, your stained jacket, and the cup in his hand like his brain was still trying to understand what just happened.

“Uh-uh, fuck, sorry, I swear this wasn’t on purpose,” he rambles, placing his cup on the counter behind you and grabbing some napkins right after. He steps back towards you and shoves his hand of napkins to you. “Here, shit, I’m so sorry.”

You sigh, taking the napkins from him, noting the slight tremor that persisted in his hands as you did so. Taking in a slow breath, you close your eyes and count to ten before responding. “It’s okay, Carmen. Don’t worry about it.”

And even though you tried to maintain your peace, you can hear the annoyance seeping out of your words. Carmen glances around the counter before looking back at you and your soaked jacket. You know he probably wants to apologize some more, but honestly, one more apology might land him with a punch to the gut. 

Just as he opens his mouth, you raise your free hand, silencing him immediately. You shake your head in dismissal before taking the napkins offered to you and blotting the coffee out of the fabric of your jacket. Carmen simply stood in his place, watching you, seeing if he could do anything to redeem himself in this situation. 

However, after they called your name for your drink order, you dumped the used napkins in the trash, took your drink and hightailed it out of the café without one more word to the man. 

After the coffee shop incident, you swear that you started to see Carmen everywhere. 

You needed a quiet place to plan outside of your house so you went to one of the local libraries. Guess who’s walking outside the building?

You need a late night snack and decide to hit up the corner store. Guess who’s in the refrigerated section?

Hell, you decide to stay late at The Bear for some last minute checkups? Guess who forgot to grab a few things before leaving that night?

You swear that before you hopped on The Bear train, you never even saw a glimpse of the man. Sure, you lived relatively near the restaurant, but Chicago is fucking huge, there’s no way you would run into one of the few people that you’re trying to avoid. 

Absolutely not, apparently. 

Finally finishing up the weekly budget report and estimate for the following weeks till open, you decide to take a step away from work for a second and give your brain some time to breath. 

“Hey, Syd, if anyone needs me, I’m outside taking a smoke break, ‘kay,” you yell across the restaurant, receiving a thumbs up from her from the other side of the room. “Be back in 15!”

Reaching into your bag, you pull out a pack of cigs and a lighter before heading to the back entrance of the restaurant. You place the cigarette between your lips and head to the backdoor. Stepping out and around the alley to the designated smoke corner, you fiddle with the lighter switch, hearing the light sizzle but seeing no flames emerge. 

You groan, flicking the lighter again and again and still no lig–

“Umm, uh, you need a light?”

You scream, your heart almost skipping a beat and falling out on the concrete below you. In your alarm, both your cigarette and the lighter drop on to the ground. "Shit," you mutter and throw a glance over at whoever had scared the living shit out of you and, surprise suprise . . .

There was Carmen, standing in the alley a few feet away from the door. One leg was kicked up to rest his foot against the wall behind him and a cigarette hung loosely between his fingers. His eyes trailed across you for a second, then he glanced at the cigarette on the ground before taking another draw from his own and staring out the wall in front of him.

If you had half of the energy, you would tell him off for scaring the shit out of you and book it out of the enclosed space.

Lucky for Carmen, however, you really needed that cigarette.

Reaching back into your bag once more, you pull out another cig and walk slowly over to the man. Your steps gain his attention once again and when your eyes met you gestured to the lighter hanging out of his cooking apron.

He grabs the lighter and hands it to you. As you reach out to grab it, your fingers brush against his knuckles. Some quick thought in the back of your head wishes that that physical interaction lasted a little longer, but you're quick to shoo that away into the deep recesses of your mind.

Lighting your cigarette, you hand the lighter back to him before taking a drag. Blowing the smoke out, you slid down the wall until you could lean back into a squat against it.

The two of you just stand there, in complete silence aside from the occasional cough from an improper pull. This quiet isn't nearly as awkward as the first run-in the two of you had. Maybe it's because of the nicotine or maybe it's because continuously running into Carmen over these past days had subconsciously made you a little more comfortable with his presence.

. . .

Nah, it definitely had to be the nicotine.

You glance up at Carmen, who continues to smoke even though his stick had turned into a bud a while ago. You make note of the new tattoos that run down his arms and hands, eyes stopping at the rose flower tattoo on his left hand.

You remember when he got that one done with you at the parlor for his eighteenth birthday.

Subconsciously, you rub at the matching rose on your thigh before sighing and focusing back on your cigarette. Young, dumb decisions, you think.

Above you, Carmen watches your focus retreat back and purses his lips. In all honesty, Carmen usually never finishes a whole cigarette, but he really needed an excuse to stay out here longer with you.

These past couple of days had been tormenting him just as much as it had been you, albeit for different reasons. Everytime Carmen ran into you, whether it be in that cafe or that random grocery store that one early morning, he was plagued with memories of everything that he had fucked up.

Not just the relationship that he had fucked, but the happiness that he had stolen from the both of you.

And he had so desperately been trying to apologize, but every time you saw his face, you would get that look on your own. That dread, the anxiousness, that annoyance. That anger.

Whenever he saw that expression on your face, he would get too choked up to say anything of significance. A simple 'hey" would be all that would leave his mouth. Either that or he would stutter like he was a fucking kid again and embarrass himself in front of you like he seems to be doing constantly lately.

Carmen sighs, taking a final hit from his cigarette before stomping it out on the ground. By all previous experience, Carmen would book it out of the area by now, but something in his gut was telling him to stay this time.

Glancing down at you once more, he sees that you have taken to scrolling through your phone to kill the time. He bites the corner of his lip and decides to sit against the wall like you.

Instinctively, you toss him a questioning glance but when he didn't make any move to speak or gesture towards you, you shook your head and went back to whatever video had popped up on your feed.

Fuck it, he thought.

"I'm sorry."

You halt in the middle of your smoke, nearly coughing on the fumes but managing to swallow it. You look over at Carmen inquisitively, wondering where the hell that apology came from. The dirty blonde was wringing his hands, mouth opening and shutting as if he was trying to get the words out.

"Sorry for the, uh," he mutters, casting a quick glance in your direction to assure himself that you were listening. "Sorry for the, for uh-You know I didn't-I don't know how-"

"Yo, Carmen," you interrupt the world vomit that he was spewing, tossing your cigarette down before snuffing out the light with your shoe. You center your focus back on the man next to you, who seemed to only have you in his attention. "Just say what you want to say. No bullshit."

Your blunt words seem to ground Carmen long enough for him to gather his thoughts. He nods his head rapidly in that way he does when he's clearly overwhelmed before he clears his throat. He takes in a large inhale and clears his throat, ready to speak again.

"I want to apologize. For everything. For how much of an jackoff I was back then, and for how much I am right now," Carmen stars, eyes staring solidly into yours to show just how serious he is. "I didn't deserve you, and you did nothing to deserve the way that we ended."

You feel something burn the back of your throat at the mention of the end of your relationship. The total radio silence from him for the days prior, and just when you had managed to gather the courage to ask the question of just what the hell are we doing, Carmy, you were cast aside like nothing.

He was right, you didn’t deserve that.

Pushing back the feelings bubbling up in your chest, you nod your head to signal that you were listening.

"I-I, it's no excuse, but I was really going through some serious shit. And I really felt that if I cut everyone out of my life, I could actually get a second to breathe you know," Carmen pauses and you open your mouth to speak, but he continues. "I-I just know you deserved-you deserve better. But seeing you in this restaurant day-in and day-out, working away to help my sister, my crew--help me? I just felt even more like a piece of shit."

He turns fully towards you now and you can see his eyes turning red from the emotion he was clearly holding behind his words. "You didn't deserve what I did, and you definitely don't deserve to be cleaning up my messes now."

"You deserved the world, and I'm sorry I couldn't give it to you."

His last words send a sharp pang into your chest. Here you two sat, sitting next to each other, the distance between you two seemed to be filled with words unsaid. You stare into his eyes a little longer, at a loss for what to say completely.

On one hand, you wanted to reject his apology, tell him to fuck off and leave him alone in this alleyway. He would deserve it after everything.

But he has that familiar kicked puppy-dog look in his eyes and he's chewed his lip red, and he's actually sorry.

You sigh, leaning your head back to rest against the wall behind you. Staring up at the sky, you trace the shapes of the clouds above as you collect your thoughts.

"Yeah," you start, nodding your head to yourself. Carmen tenses up at the ambiguity behind both your words and your tone. He would have to have his own head shoved up his ass if he didn't realize that you had every right to refuse his plea for forgiveness. Frankly, that's exactly what he was expecting you to do.

"Yeah, okay. I can forgive you, Berzatto."

Carmen's heart sinks into his guts, mouth slightly agape in pure shock. "You-you can?"

You give a small smile, turning your head to face the man. "Yeah, Carmen, I accept your apology."

The dirty blonde opens his mouth again but you put a hand up in the space between you, effectively shutting him up for a second.

"But," you trail, "I'm gonna forward you that dry cleaning bill from that cafe, asshat. I've been trying to get that shit out for days now."

Carmen flushes a bright red at the mention of the coffee shop run-in you two had, a broken chuckle leaving his mouth at the obvious teasing tone in your voice. You were joking with him, for the first time in years, you two had managed to glimpse at the level of comfortability that you once shared.

Carmen chuckles again, running a hand through his curls. "Yeah, well, can I raincheck that until after the restaurant starts making money? I'm kinda flat fucking broke right now."

You giggle at the honesty behind his words. "Yeah, I ran those calculations by the way. Have fun being flat broke for at least three months after The Bear opens."

"Shit," Carmen mutters, a grin still on his face.

"Yeah, shit." You nod in his direction before pushing yourself off your crouched position on the ground. "Anyway, I'm gonna head inside to get back on that shit. Fak's fucking electric guy keeps flaking on us."

Carmen's eyes follow your form as you stand, holding eye contact with you when you glance back down at him. "Yeah, yeah, I should probably meet up with Syd for the chaos menu anyway."

He hurriedly stands up, wiping his hands on his work pants. After he finishes, he looks at you once again, noting the small smile on your face. For a second, he swears his heart skips a beat.

"For the record, Carmy," you play with the nickname on your tongue, having not said it in quite some time. Carmen flushes before nodding for you to continue. The small on your face falls for a second as you look at him. "You pull that shit with me again, I'm sicking the dogs on your ass. Seriously."

Carmen clears his throat, straightening up at the more serious tone of your voice. Although you were not nearly as angry looking at him as before, he knew that you were serious. There were no more apologies after this, no more fuckups.

You look at him expectantly, waiting for some form of acknowledgment.

He nods. "Yes, chef."

After the conversation outside The Bear, you and Carmen seemed to flow together much easier than before. Granted there was the occasional stray glance casted in your direction from the man, but overall, the two of you were on much more agreeable terms.

The rest of the crew seemed to notice the absence of uncertain tension between the two of you. You explained to Tina, Richie, and Sugar that you two had simply talked it out and were no longer on "spiteful ex" terms.

Richie, being the annoying man that he is, insisted that something else must've happened--to which you responded with a firm shoulder check and yet another middle finger.

Overall, the two of you seemed to only talk about business stuff, which made it easier for conversations to flow. Less personal, more concrete talks.

"Alright, Carmy, we got that certificate of occupancy, right?" You question, running down the legal checklist once again. When you heard no response, you asked again, only to be ignored again. Finally looking up from your screen, you glance up at the man, trying to figure out what could have possibly distracted him this time.

He's glancing, moreso glaring, down at his phone, watching it ring but making no moves to pick it up. He's spaced out almost, like he's lost in his thoughts.

You clear your throat and decide to try his name again. "Carmen!"

He shoots up a little and looks at you, muttering an apology out as he clicks his phone off and slides it into his back pocket. "What were you asking?"

"Umm, I was trying to see if you got that certificate of occupancy from Cicero mailed in," you raise an eyebrow at him. "You know, the one we need to get that other big, shiny certificate that shows that we can legal conduct business in the state of Illinois? That certificate?"

"Uhh, yeah, yeah. Mailed it in the other day, yeah."

You squint at his weird responses before shaking your head and diving back into your work. "Well, on another note, I've been speaking with a liason down at the office and he said we can have our second fire suppression test in two weeks instead of the project four."

Carmen walks up to the foldable chair you were sitting in, peering over your shoulder to look at your screen. He rests his hand against the back of your chair unconsciously and you can feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. You clear your throat and lean forward a little to get some distance between the two of you.

"Who's that going to?" The man points to an email that you are in the middle of drafting. Your eyes follow and land on the email you were writing to one of your school buddies. "Oh that? I'm just messaging one of my old classmates from college about an idea I had about our issues with that retail food license thing."

Carmen humms, peeking down at you as you explained the process you were thinking of going through. Though your eyes were stuck on the screen, clicking through different documents as you continued your explanation, Carmen's eyes were glued to your face.

To him, this all felt like some weird dream that he was having. His former high school sweetheart, sitting in his restaurant, talking all kinds of smart talk that he could barely understand, practically pressed against him. Although he didn't move over to your chair with the intent to press against you, he definitely noticed the proximity that you two shared.

Life had been a whirlwind these past weeks, but he felt that when he was near you that a lot of those anxieties he often has screaming in his head quieted down a little. He tried to chalk it up to the confidence that he had in your skills, but even though you are incredibly talented in your work, he knew that it was something more than that.

Something that he had to swallow down.

"Carmy, you motherfucker, are you even listening to me?" You call out, turning more in your chair and fixing him with an annoyed glare. Carmen swallows before nodding his head. "Ye-yeah, you have a plan to get that retail food license and alcohol seller's license at once right?"

You hum, giving him a once over again before turning in your seat. "Exactly. I think that my buddy Stephen can help us with that fire suppression test, he knows a thing or two--"

Carmen's eyes trace down your eyes, nose, and lips, noting the signature bite marks you left on your bottom one. He runs a tongue across his own before carding a hand through his hair to collect himself.

He was so fucked.

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[juuuulez]

🎧 | heartbeat, richie jerimovich.

so we're done? this the real shit? / we used to hold hands like field trips / i’m a jerk, but your dude is a real dick / i read his posts on your wall and i feel sick.

making out/mild groping, references to sex, cheating, richie is petty.

request a playlist roulette here!

“I’m working, Richie.”

“Then fuckin’ stop. Tryn’a have a conversation here.”

You simply huff and continue to ignore him, though the small space of the office feels impossibly closed off. It’s like all the air has been sucked out, filled with a sticky warmth that settles in your veins, where you can’t possibly ignore his presence behind you.

It’s been years. Whatever happened between you and Richie was over, it ended right before you went off to college. So, yeah, fucking ages ago. What gave him the right to whine about it now? You were knee-deep in paperwork, having been called up by Carmen to help balance some accounts for the restaurant renovations. With a business degree under your belt, you’d happily taken the offer. It helped that you were in Chicago anyway.

“There isn’t a conversation to be had, asshole.” You quipped back, standing at the desk and flipping through contract after contract. They’re scattered around, and quite frankly, a mess. You make a mental note to ask Carmy if he ever got his pen license: because his handwriting is atrocious.

The silences stretches on for another few seconds. Sweet, soundless seconds, where you can summon an inkling of focus, before it’s brutally ripped away from you again.

“Missing my baby. #LongDistanceWarrior.”

It’s said in a delicate, mocking tone, that had you whipping around to face him. Richie has his phone in hand, scrolling through your Facebook wall and finding comments from your boyfriend.

“Do you mind?” You snap.

“Nah, babe. It’s fuckin’ pathetic, this shit,” He’s begun again, all wound up and pissed. “I mean— jesus, what a jagoff. Trust me, I know you, and I know you’re not into this garbage.”

You expel a harsh breath through your nose, turning your back to him once more. “It’s sweet.”

“No it fuckin’ isn’t. It’s disgusting.”

The hypocrisy of it all is astounding, it twists harsh in your gut, churning a dangerous mix of irritation and, maybe, a little bit of guilt. “Y’know, last time I checked, we broke up ‘cus of you, genius.”

“That’s not what happened,” Richie is quick to assert, dropping his phone in favour of waving his hands wildly, as if it would help his point. “Hey! That’s not what fuckin’ happened! You decided to go to New York, like a pretentious—

“No! No, fuck you!” You’re yelling back at him now, albeit still looking down at the desk. “I wanted to do long distance, asshole, and you threw a goddamn fit. So tough fucking luck, you missed your chance.”

It shuts him up for a moment, because it’s true: Richie didn’t want to do long distance, and you wanted to go to college in New York. Neither of you would budge, and so you broke up. But now, you’re dating some rich asshole, who apparently, has no goddamn problem with long distance. Making Richie the cuck.

“Is it his dick, or somethin?” Richie is speaking again in a lower tone, an almost playful twinge to it. “Cus it’s definitely not his face.”

He’s approached you, chest pressed firm against your face, as he drops the phone over your paperwork. It’s still open on your facebook wall, an image of you and this new boyfriend, posing for a photo: you’re kissing his cheek.

You shake your head, giving Richie a sharp nudge with your elbow. It’s supposed to get his ribs, but he catches it in his palm, warm and big over your skin. “Don’t be rude.” You scold.

“So it’s not?” He continues to pry. “It’s the money, then? Bet he’s fuckin’ loaded. Goddamn trust fund.”

“That’s none of your business.” You tell him.

The contact feels foreign and familiar all at the same time. It’s like coming home to a warm bed, still all mussed from the night before, and crawling right back between the covers. But it’s laced with something new, an intoxicating sense of temptation, because you know how wrong this is. How wrong it is to lean back against him, to not shoo him away.

Richie knows this, he knows the hold he has on you, knows that he’s getting what he wants. Because you’re not as uptight as you pretend to be: you’re that same scrappy kid who’d fuck around with him in high school: A younger girl, and her stupid older boyfriend, working weekends in a shitty restaurant and blowing the paychecks on dumb stuff like fireworks and beer.

So his hands find your waist, fingers wrapped around the meat of your body, tugging you back into him. You spare a glance downwards, past the paperwork, watching the way he grips you tight and possessive.

“Aren’t you married?” You ask, pushing through the breathless feeling in your lungs.

“Not anymore,” Richie supplies. “But you already knew that, didn’t ‘ya?”

You hum, rolling the idea around in your head for a moment. Any sense of rationale dissipated the second his breath hit your ear, so close, too close, and yet you still wanted him closer. Deeper. All around you.

So you turn around, wedged between the desk and him, Richie’s firm torso pinning you in place. His self control dwindles, taking the chance to skate his hands over your body, rough palms finding your ass and squeezing.

“Shouldn’t be doing this,” You remind him, the words whispered into hot air, a moment of consciousness that preens its way into your mind. “I have a boyfriend. He loves me.”

“Oh, yeah?” Richie will contest, voice rough and molten right near your ear. “The fuck ‘s he doin’ in New York, then?”

And it’s true. Fuck, it’s so true. Because he’s there and Richie is right here, hot and hard against you, smelling so familiar and before you can even think his mouth is on yours. It feels perfect, your hands skimming up his chest, finding his face to pull him in closer. Teeth clash and noses bump, his thigh pushing between your legs, pulling you down against him.

The paperwork is forgotten as you feverishly make out on the desk, groping and grinding like teenagers. It’s only interrupted by Carmen, who eventually comes knocking with another handful of receipts. His face twists in disgust at the sight, making a disgruntled noise before turning on his heels. Your face is red at this point, forehead making contact with Richie’s shoulder as you huff in a mix of embarrassment and guilt.

Not guilty enough, though, to stop Richie from coming back to your hotel. Not guilty enough to not sleep with him one, two… three more times. Certainly not guilty enough to not call him whenever you’re in Chicago.

[aeriscallanga]

Hey lovelies and my moots! Could you spare a time reading this? Your voice matters right now in these trying times...

The Chinese Coast Guards (CCG) have been roaming around the economic zones of my country [the Philippines], particularly the West Philippine Sea. It's been our problem for so many years and yet we haven't been heard yet, and now the tension is rising as they use physical force to expel the Philippine navy by the marines by rummaging the boats and using lasers and tear gas resulting to injuries.

This is very alarming, as our natural resources have been exploited by them, believing it's theirs although the international law beg to differ, so as the records and the maps.

IT BELONGS TO THE PHILIPPINES AND ONLY OURS, WHAT'S OURS IS OURS. IT'S CALLED WEST PHILIPPINE SEA FOR A REASON 🇵🇭🌊

P.S.: Get ready for possible boycotting Chinese products so they couldn't get through.

Source: Philippine Daily Inquirer

𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗺𝗼𝗼𝘁𝘀 (reblog and signal boost asap!): || @foxesandmagic || @arrthurpendragon || @jemmalynette || @deliahscrush2003 || @carmens-garden || @megandaisy9 || @multifandomfix || @impales || @fiction-is-life || @moonrainbowfish || @needsmth || @stingrayextraordinaire || @oceanblueeyesoul || @literaturewithliz || @diorgirl444 || @gayandfairycore || @ourbonesmccoy || @virginia-peters || @fuckitup-in-style || @mysticmeadows || @howlruto || @moonlight-yuyu || @ppoppokari || @x0x0josephinex0x0 || @ihavenothingtodo10220 || @disneymbti ||

[which-star]

💜 for redtiger😌

💜 surprise kiss / impulsive kiss

Sheena takes a step back, keeping an eye on Carmen as she does. Blood pounds in her ears. She doesn't like the glint in her gaze, the predatory smile. There's only been one other time Sheena has been subjected to that look and that was back when Carmen was VILE.

She's not VILE anymore. The night Graham betrayed them made that clear. Carmen came back right, fixed and apologetic like any spotless, horrified hero. She didn't come back wrong, not like Sheena did--messy and screaming and clawing. Sometimes Sheena barely believes she came back at all, still stuck in the dank prison cell jumbled in with the rest of the Faculty.

Carmen is talking. If Sheena concentrates enough, she would be able to hear her, but she can't. Not when the playing field is so uneven and it feels like Carmen is up on a pedestal so high that Sheena can't even consider the thought of reaching her. Sheena plunging into the bottomless pit; Carmen watching from above.

"--been a long time... you been... up?"

Why isn't she trying to capture her? Sheena's eyes flit around, marking her escape. If Carmen is here, that must mean her red-headed goons are nearby. And those agents she hired the night VILE burned. They must be back to put her behind bars again.

Carmen's hands raise in a calming motion, palm reaching out and pulling downwards. Sheena searches for a hidden weapon under those sleeves. Her expression morphs into something like worry as Sheena takes another step back.

Playing field. She needs to even the playing field. Blood rushing into a roar, Sheena takes a running leap forward, charging at Carmen with the pent up ferocity of a trapped tiger. Carmen's eyes widen, instinctively going on the defensive. But instead of pushing her away or throwing a punch, her hand grips Sheena's shirt and pulls her closer. Sheena stumbles at the force, arms wrapping around Carmen's shoulders.

And Carmen kisses her.

Her lips are chapped, rough and soft at the same time. Sheena gasps a heaving breath into them, mouth curled into a snarl that relaxes the next second. Then, Sheena's kissing back.

If this is a diversion for those agents to sneak up on her, it's a damn good one. At the thought, Sheena pushes Carmen away and whips her head around. Nothing's behind them.

"What is it?" Carmen asks, as if she doesn't know. As if she hadn't planned for every wrong move.

Sheena stares back into those warm brown eyes with so much distrust it makes Carmen frown.

"Where's the part where they shoot me?" Sheena asks. Her arms come down to her sides so Carmen's grip on her shirt grows tighter.

"What?"

"The part where I'm dead," Sheena demands, louder. "Where's the part where I'm locked away for another three years? Carmen, I'm not dumb. I know you wouldn't be here otherwise."

"No-- that's not happening. I'm here to check up on you, not because I want to you imprisoned. God, Sheena. What the fuck? Did you not hear what I was saying earlier?"

She didn't. Sheena is very good at not listening. She rolls her eyes anyways, just to be difficult. "What about what you said earlier? You were lying."

Carmen expels a long breath. Her brows furrow and she grits her teeth, clearly signs that she's getting annoyed. Her mouth opens to reply, but Sheena impulsively covers it with her own. It's a quick kiss, barely more than a peck, but it gets the job done. It shuts her up.

A bandaid over a wound. Those are all Sheena deals with.

[sircarebearalot]

pretty lines i compiled (from my own work) for a friend and decided i might as well post here

As embarrassment made room for indignation, when Marco looked at him again, it was with a scorching fire that burned hotter, much more destructive than anything Tom could ever hope to muster.

- laugh at the pain (it'll hurt the same) -- Star Vs The Forces Of Evil

And I know I'm chaining you to the ground

But you being gone is the loneliest sound

- Ducky, I'm so Lucky! -- Odd Girl Out

Her head is bent and her soft hair is falling around her face. Evie has the physical urge to tuck it back and tilt Mal's chin up. Make Mal want her again. It was a terrible possessive thing that was created on the Isle as a means to survive. Choose to love one thing, one person, and never let it go. Your only guilty pleasure, your chosen strand of Good.

- and nothing can stay the same (it's growing pains) --- Descendants

Minthe hated Hades.

She hated the way he would watch her shower, eyes burning with an intensity that made her claustrophobic. She hated the way he sometimes wouldn't even be looking at her body, he was just looking through her. She hated how pathetic and ugly that made her feel, so much that she would give him a 'come hither' look, only feeling relief when he starts to strip.

- give me back my girlhood (it was mine first) --- Lore Olympus

They never protect the face,' she had said, easily separating him from her, classifying him as the rest. As the weak. He remembered when she would take note of others, setting them both apart loyally.

-- in a league of her own -- Carmen Sandiego

The party was several steps removed, loud and dazzling but also so far away. It was not tempting when the alternative was a rendezvous with Carmen

-- set every part aflame/this is not a game --- Carmen Sandiego

Then Julia begins to cry (and Carmen has never seen her cry before. Her eyes and nose are an angry red, and her face is contorted. Carmen loves her and she made her cry. Julia covers her face and breathes harshly. She doesn't look like a woman who was just proposed to. She looks like she had been slapped across the face.) Julia says, "We can't do this. You know we can't. Think about it ."

--- now i've read all the books besides your bed --- Carmen Sandiego

The words fall out like he has been sick for weeks, and it's only now that he can expel all the toxins in his body. He remembers when he was younger and would get sick a bit more often, how Mama would give him water and encourage him as he emptied himself into a toilet, assuring him that the toxins and germs would leave his body this way. This was before they got their gifts before Julieta could heal, and before Bruno became stigmatized.

--- i need to go (i don't know why) --- Encanto

She knew she was also beautiful and talented, just in a different way. (Jade was a roaring inferno, pretty like hellfire was pretty. Art incarnate. Tori was far off sunset, picturesque and easy to appreciate.)

--- unthought, unsaid, a fire burning red --- Victorious

And Beck just grinned up at him softly, soft like his hair was soft, and his voice when he spoke to André in a low tone. Soft in a way that made you ache and no more. He was a vision with the lights playing across him, all handsome face and soft-to-the-touch hair.

-- want you all to myself --- Victorious

It almost felt like peeling off a bandaid, as if the gravity between them had made itself tangible and possible through skin.

-- imagine being loved by me -- harry potter

It was crushing the way freeing things were crushing. The squeezing your hands out of cuffs, the soaring through cold water, taking a crown off your head. Killing your tyrannical father

-- Let's Not Fight Fate This Time --- DC Super Hero Girls (2019)

All at once, the conquest seemed all the more dangerous. Much more at risk but also — he never wanted it more. Is this how pirates go mad and senile? Overwhelmed and consumed by all this want? Constantly reaching for what is so close and so obviously there for the taking but still so incredibly far.

That makes more sense.

People judge them too harshly. They don’t understand what it’s like to be consumed.

-- you can't live a lie (after you've tasted the truth)--- DC Super Hero Girls (2019)

She's beautiful, Agatha said, but it sounded nearly like an insult.

-- Trapped In A Bottle -- The School for Good And Evil

That's why Alberto got his own category.

With a billion little subcategories and post-its, and side notes because- like the sky- Alberto Scorfano is limitless and infinite. From his eyes to his habits to his preferences to his fears to his passions to his talents to his hair to his attitude to his smile he is something that Luca has studied and admired to an almost painful extent.

-- All The Stars We Steal From The Nigh Sky (will never be enough)

Right ," and there's definitely an odd note in Tamaki's voice then.

Kyoya can imagine why. He knows why. It's odd for them to speak as strangers, bound by laws of civility and utterly unfamiliar. Everything they knew about each other was assumed or heard, and nothing was told or shared.

--blessed by the mystery of love -- Ouran High School Host Club

If Tamaki had entertained jealousy, it was always under a rose-tinted light. Jealousy was abstract to him in the way that poverty was. He understood that, fundamentally, it was not a good thing, but he also knew there was beauty in the moment that stemmed from it, and that’s what he liked to focus on.

--- put a little love on me--- Ouran High School Host Club

[randompersonunderyourbed]

Giving the treehouse girls some angst because I can

Okay this is actually because some of the people in the treehouse girls had almost no personality or backstory,

so I will give them one

let’s start with Teri. Although her headcannons I made of her gave her some personality, I’d like to give her a slight bit of angst to see how she is the way she is.

now I think that the reason why Teri is incredibly hypochondriatic, is not because of her mom and her career as a doctor. It’s because I personally think that she had to go through her biological father dying of a medical issue or sickness. Her mother was the doctor that could help him but she couldn’t and there was nothing to do. As Teri didn’t have reason to blame her mother, she began blaming the diseases, to the point of going mad from a cold or a fever. As this had happened years ago, her mother married another.

Okay now time for our favorite cactus gal, Carmen. They would lash out at other at their old school but why? Do they just hate that school? Let me make a backstory here.

Their parents were completely unaware of Carmen. They were too busy fight to notice their own child. They became enraged at each other and ended up throwing bottles and books, to Carmen’s expense, which landed into court. One of their parents weren’t going to jail, (it doesn’t really matter which, both are equally bad at parenting.) and turns out this parent wasn’t as good as teaching their child right and wrong. This parent taught Carmen to fight and insult. The reason why they were such a tough, rebellious child, they rough and stole and ended up getting expelled. They did separate themself as much from their parent guardian as they could, reversing the lessons that they taught them. Which is what inspired them to become a better person

[historyhermann]

The Indie Animation Boom and Crowdfunded Animation Part 2: Notes

Reprinted from Pop Culture Maniacs, my History Hermann WordPress blog on Jan. 7, 2023, and Wayback Machine. This was the fourth article I wrote for Pop Culture Maniacs. This post was originally published on August 28, 2021.

© 2021-2023 Burkely Hermann. All rights reserved.

Notes

[1] Examples of pilots for shows that were rejected include: Constant Payne, The Modifyers, Diggs Tailwagger, Lehold, Carmen Got Expelled, Jo Minkus, Monsters Abroad, Thom Cat, Werebeast, Magic Children Doing Things, Dungeon Crawlers, IRL Squad, Camp W, and Trick Moon. Pilots of Adventure Bodies (2012), Vileville (2013), Audience! (2014), C Students (2014) (as it was discontinued in 2015 and he discontinued the channel in 2018), Showside (2015), Urbance (2016), Obituary (2016) (after this, all other stories continued in webcomic form), Becky Prim (2016), Film Quest (2016), Rock and Riot (2016) (student film based on webcomic of same name), Bamboo Garden (2017), Salt Kidz (2018), Cliffside (2018) (announced in 2020 it will not be continued), Starship Goldfish (2018) (very slim chance), Bird Town News (2018), SpaceWorld (2019), and Wings of Fire (2020) (cancelled for unstated reasons) will likely not be turned into animated series.

Belle & Tina are Time Travelers had a pilot in 2016, but it may be coming back as hinted in a video clip in April 2020. The same may be the case with Impotents as the pilot premiered in 2016, but the official website lists six episodes, although none are online. On the other hand, the company producing the series last posted tweets in 2016 and the Kickstarter ended the same year. Song of the Sky, the pilot of which premiered in 2018, may be turning into an animated series, according to posts on Patreon.

[2] It is likely that Sechrist’s “How to School,” for those interested in animation, drawing, and the like, will undoubtedly help animators either pitch their own shows, or move into the indie animation space.

[3] In Helluva Boss, Blitzo is pansexual, Moxxie is bisexual, Stolas is gay or bisexual, and Sallie May is a trans woman, while in Hazbin Hotel, Alastor is asexual, Angel Dust is gay, Charlie Magne is bisexual, and Vaggie is a lesbian. In S.A.L.E.M., Salem is a non-binary and pansexual character, Oliver is gay, and Petra is asexual. In Rain, Rain Flaherty is a trans girl, Fara Bryer is bisexual, Maria Stongwell is lesbian, Rudy Strongwell is gay, Emily Caston is pansexual, Vincent Valverde is a trans man, and Jessica Li is a trans woman. In Dirt: The Series, Claire and Ally are a lesbian couple.

In September 2020, Medrano supported two male characters in the animated ZooPhobia short, “Bad Luck Jack,” being shipped together. Other examples include Gadzooks and the Cryptoid Kids (a series by two gay men with LGBTQ themes), Astur’s Rebellion (said to have various LGBTQ characters), C Students (a lesbian, Nicole, who has a crush on the new female student, Penny, jerks off to a woman’s body, and a male student, Drew, is gay), Finding Alyx! (it will feature a non-binary artist), Rock and Riot (a girl, Penny, tries to get another girl, Carla, to like her), Roads to Rome (a supporting character, Mira, has two annoying dads), Cirque Du Monstro (has an asexual main character), Succubus Cop (has an asexual cop), Starmakers (has a bisexual character), Cabiria Intermezzo (one character has a crush on the protagonist), and Long Way From Del’Arte (has bi and gay characters).

There may be LGBTQ characters in the following upcoming series: The Journey for Our Lives, Warlocks of Wrath High, and Tallyho!.

[4] The Indigo pilot was proposed in December 2019 by an animator named Moon. The show’s account was suspended (and soon to be deleted) in preparation for a possible pitching of a short from the series to Cartoon Cartoons, a program restarted in April 2021.

According to a now-deleted tweet, the series' main account was suspended for reasons of personal safety and due to the animation pitching process. Before the account was suspended, the show was going to be open to crowdfunding.

[5] Other series with a pilot include: Bunker City, Bussin, Painquin, and Project Tideaway. Others in development, and without a pilot, include: Crescent Fire, Stellapie, Squabs, Bloop and Friends, Harri’s World, Monkey Wrench, Band of Mythix, The Alyssian, Second Light, Don’t Touch the Props!, Espionage Actors, Dark Pages, Stick-Ers, Crash in the System, Here We Are, Quest Infinite, Harvey Beaks (fan reboot), Foreign Contact, Transformers Alliance (fan animation), Arbor Square, The Crystal Eden, and Aleph Stars.

Sunset Paradise is another example of an indie animated series which ended, is with the finale in July 2021.

[disastrvs]

MARCUS FLINT ✶ oliver stark, 26, cismman, he/him, pureblood, seventh year, auror training. member of the slytherin quidditch team. can be described as arrogant, audacious, domineering, ruthless.

STATISTICS.

full name: marcus anders flint

gender && pronouns: cis man && he/him/his

dob && age: april 15th, 1996 && 26

place of birth: london, england

zodiac sign: aries (leo moon, aries rising)

ethnicity: english

sexual orientation: heterosexual

blood status: pureblood

house: slytherin

former education: thiudreik

other: quidditch league ( chaser )

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

face claim: oliver stark

height: 6′2′’ / 188cm

eye colour: blonde

hair colour: blue

FAMILY:

father: amadeus flint

mother: tba

siblings, if any: carmen flint ( 41, older sister ), lucia flint ( 38, older sister ), diana flint ( 34, older sister ), moira flint ( 29, older sister ), stella flint ( 27, older sister )

extended relations: tba

significant other(s): n/a

FAVOURITES.

colour: black

weather: spring

food item: he does love a good steak

beverage: whisky

time of day: early morning

PERSONALITY.

mbti type: estp

enneagram type: type 8, the challenger

positive traits: audacious, resourceful, headstrong, humorous

negative traits: arrogant, domineering, ruthless, blunt

the youngest out of amadeus flint’s six children and the only son, marcus is everything his father had ever wanted and waited so long for. perhaps the flints weren’t what they used to be once upon a time; far less influential and rich nowadays, but amadeus carried himself just as his ancestors did. he was incredibly old fashioned and considered his daughters mostly as means for business deals and arrangements through marriage. of course, he only proposed the idea, it was their choice at the end. but truly, who dared deny amadeus?

marcus was quite obviously his parents’ favourite. his head is filled with praises - he’s the strongest, he’s better than everybody else, he’s the golden boy. and marcus believes it. he does love his sisters, though and is incredibly protective over them. he’s just too egotistical to notice they’re getting the short end of the stick over there.

at thiudreiks, marcus flint was known as a bully and few people dared cross him. he did eventually mellow out with time, as he grew and matured, but marcus is still very much easy to set off. he’s domineering, confrontational and blunt. his mouth, and sometimes his fists, certainly work faster than his brain. he is a gentleman to the ladies, though - if anything, his sisters taught him at least that. or rather, beat it into twelve year old marcus.

quidditch is one of his biggest passions. he’s not afraid to play dirty which is evident in his aggressive, sometimes ruthless playstyle. during a match at his first year in aurelius, marcus badly injured a player from the opposing team, which almost got him expelled.

[neo-contemporaryfailure]

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Every few seconds Jack had to remind himself to push through the increasing pain and breathe. In and out. It’s like trying to pull a chain, every second. He couldn’t just focus on breathing, though, he needed to keep balanced, he needed to keep a smile, and bright eyes. Focus on a million things at once: feet, arms, legs, neck, shoulders, stance, breathe, you’re falling behind, feet, arms, hands, knees, BREATHE, keep the face, balance, ignore whatever is happening in your knee, BREATHE, you’re fucking it up, smile, BREATHE.

Every now and then there will be a sharp, shooting pain somewhere: his knees or his stomach or his feet. It almost knocks him off, but he pushes through it. He can handle it, even as it seems to strike him over and over again, as his chest squeezes, like his entire body is trying to expel his lungs through his throat. As if he's drowning, the bottom of his lungs filling up until he can only breathe out of the very tip top, he can feel it creep up.

His mind focusing on that takes him away from the movement. Fuck. Goddammit. Feet, arms, legs, neck, shoulders, stance, CAN'T BREATHE, you’re falling behind, feet, arms, hands, knees, STILL CAN'T BREATHE, keep the face, balance, ignore whatever is happening in your knee, HALF A BREATH, you’re fucking it up, smile- He fucks up. He tries to get back into it. He can't reach another breath, it's like his lungs are squeezed up against his ribs, trying to rip themselves out. He feels himself starting to cough. He feels himself starting to die.

The chorus is still singing around him, it's just noise, loud noise from every direction, the audience is clapping, they're cheering, they're dark. They're out there. He can't see them. They're just out there. He can hear them but he can't see them. They go on forever. He realizes that he's just standing there. He hasn't breathed at all in God knows how long. He's just standing there. Why are you standing there? Why aren't you moving? Why aren't you breathing? Why?

He needs to move. He can't. The entire world is frozen. No one is singing, no one is moving, there's no sound. There is no air.  There's just Jack, the only person on the stage. Alone. Not breathing.

He is down, on the ground. Sandy is grabbing onto his shoulder. He still can't breathe, there's no air left around them. William is helping. They're dragging him off, pulling him by his shoulders, gripped around him with strength and weight. His legs are like sticks dragging in mud, his shoes screech against the floor. Mary rushes past, brushing up against them, she squeezes his hand and then takes his place under the lights, getting smaller and smaller.

Sandy and William are propping him up, he's leaned up against her. He can feel Sandy’s knees pressing into his back. William is next to him, holding one of his arms. His hands are sweaty and warm. Jack tries to jerk away, he needs air, where did all the air go? Sandy stands, and William and her sorta pull him up with them. There are more people now, standhands and Carmen the stage manager, they're all around him. But they don't understand, he doesn't need them there, he just needs to be able to breathe. He's like a clogged drain. He's dying.

He stumbles again, there's no weight in his legs because there's no air in his body. There might not be any air in the entire building. He's trying to pull a piece of cotton yarn through the eye of a needle.  He's on the ground again. He's somewhere else, but he's on the ground. There are so many people nearby. Someone's unbuttoned his shirt, they're pressing something cold and metal into his chest. They've got a mask over his mouth and nose. He keeps trying to take it off, but they keep pushing it back on. He wants to tell them that he can't breathe but they won't let him talk.

There's a sharp pinch in his arm. He can't turn to look t it. It feels like a needle. No one will tell him what they're doing. Or maybe they are telling him he just can't understand them.

He doesn't know who it is that is trying to keep this stupid mask on, he can't hardly put together a face from the blurry features in front of him. He isn't even sure they're real. Why would they be? Who could be real without air? There are other people in the room. There are too many people in the room. Bert is kneeling nearby, he's got an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips, he's watching with big eyes and a furrowed brow. Mary pushes her way in, she still has her shimmery red costume on, she stands above everyone, she's looking down. He's dying.

People are saying things, but no one is using words. Jack finally forces the mask off his face. He needs to explain what's going  on, no one gets it. But he can't. He tries and he can't, and soon Mary is down to his level, pushing the stupid mask back on his face. She brushes a finger along his temple, she's gritting her teeth. She turns and says something to one of the faceless men. She gets up, Bert grabbing onto her, he holds her hand.

More people grab onto him, they move him, they adjust him, they hoist him around like a heavy, awkward, object. He doesn't have much choice in the matter.

Jack's arms are either non-existent or completely restrained. The flickering of lights, of people touching him, beeping and clicking, talking, the hard object ripping its way through his throat directly into his airway. He can't swallow, or cough, or talk, and he can't breathe, because he's being forced to. He can't see anything, it's too bright and too busy and above there is only a white tiled ceiling miles above him. His chest is still spasming, trying everything it can to push his lungs up and out, squeeze any air that might be hiding within them.

People talk, hovering around on the sidelines, he cannot see them but he can feel their presence. They say things and Jack tries to focus on what they're saying so hard that by the end of their sentences he's already forgotten the beginning. He wants to talk back to them, he wants to understand where he is and why, he wants to hear them clearly, but he can't.

Then the tube is out. His throat can feel it, still, like it pulled something out when they pulled it out. He can vaguely remember that, the nurses giving him loud, one word instructions, which he followed as they pulled it out. He can mostly breathe. It hurts. It's a fight and it hurts. He's not dying. Maybe he should be.

He can adjust though. He can sit up just a bit, though it hurts and his body feels like it was pulled through a wringer, and finally he can see the hospital room that he's in. Everything about his body feels off, like it's no longer his. Maybe this is hell. The room is so bright it's like staring at the sun.

They're asking him questions, this time he can hear them from beginning to end, and as he tries to answer he realizes that his voice has been stolen from him, his voice comes out quiet and distant, and it hurts.

“Do you know what year it is?”

1963.

“What's your name?”

Jackson Ainsworth.

“How old are you?”

18.

“Do you know why you're here?”

No.

They keep asking him questions but he doesn't want to answer them. He doesn't want to talk. He doesn't want to be awake. He doesn't want to be alive.

Mary is here now. She is standing over him, she is touching his hair. She squeezes his shoulder. She leans closer. She's looking right in his eyes. She puts a hand on his face, brushing her thumb up and down on his cheek. She doesn't stop touching him, but she does turn away. Bert is in the room too, right towards the entrance, standing and watching, looking tense and put together.

“Maybe we should get his parents here.” Mary says, she sounds afraid, her voice is shaking.

“They said he'll be ok to leave in a couple of days.” Bert replies. He catches Jack's eye and comes over, standing right by Mary.

“Hey, buddy.” Bert says. What bullshit. “You're looking better than yesterday.”

Mary nods. She stops touching his face. She grabs his arm instead, sinking her fingers into his flesh.

Jack wants to understand, he focuses on his words despite the pain that talking brings him, “They had a tube down my throat.”

“For 3 days.” Mary says.

Bert steps away again. Mary watches him. She lets go of his hand. She turns to face Bert.

“We gotta bite the bullet.” Bert says.

“I know.” Mary says, “It's just… I want to believe there's going to be a miracle.” She turns back to Jack, “The whole cast signed a card for you, kid,” back to Bert, “It's late. I can come back tomorrow, let me do it.”

Bert nods, “If you think that's the right idea.”

Mary looks at Jack, she leans in close and kisses his forehead, the pulls away and puts a hand on his face.

“I'll be back tomorrow.” She says, “You're looking better every time we stop by.”

He doesn't want them to leave, but he resigns himself. It hurts too much to ask them to stay. His mind is vivid, the pain cannot distract him from it, it seems to rip through him: He just wants to die.

[strangefellows]

Demian also mentions he is yet to be touched by the light. Could Carmen be intentionally withholding it until Demian returns Ayin/X/Dante to her?. Also….Mark of Cain…..Carmen…..Cain being believed to be the first ever murderer by killing his brother Abel……Carmen turning people into Distortions and figuratively killing Ayin by trapping him in an endless cycle of fulfilling her work. Abel being the part of Ayin based around his thoughts of giving up/giving in. holy shit.

I AM SO GLAD YOU RESPONDED because I am going slightly crazy, I went back to look at the previous Demian scenes (and Rim's scene in Canto 5) for clues and oh my god.

First of all: yeah, that is extremely fucking possible. And the Cain - Carmen C names parallel when compared to Ayin - Adam A names parallel holy shit. Holy shit! You're onto something, ESPECIALLY with that point about Abel being Ayin's apathy and sense of giving up!

But okay onto what I discovered:

Canto 3: Demian says "This world is about to head to a new birth. And only certain people can get there." Clearly he means the people with the mark of Cain (Carmen's mark...?) and the bit about a 'new world' kinda sounds a little like the stuff Adam said. Am now extremely worried about Sinclair due to him having the ID of someone who explicitly Distorted, as Demian also says something about when Sinclair takes flight with "faith in the power of the heart" and "becomes one with beautiful stars"....haha....

Canto 4: The Demian bit where he goes on that little bit about countless stars, and that "someone who found [the stars] staggeringly charming" took one from the sky and hung it for people to see and "[expel] the dark" and all the people would "rejoice" -- sounds like the Light to be quite honest. He also goes on to add "what becomes of the me who has been robbed by me, and the star that's now forced to illuminate the dark forevermore?" That bit about the star ALWAYS struck me as being about Carmen. And perhaps that first bit about Demian himself implies something to do with Enoch? Not sure.

Canto 5: And then we have the Rim scene. Rim, who also has the mark of Cain (mark of C, hah) and who is DISTORTED, THIS IS IMPORTANT, HE IS ACTIVELY DISTORTED A LA THE ENSEMBLE (who also had contact/a rapport with Carmen, remember). Rim has a shitload to say that pinged me. One of the first things he says is "under the night sky where the stars have gone out, I await the coming dawn" -- and proceeds to describe the Boughs with sun metaphors, so. He then implies their group doesn't care who gets the Boughs, they just want to steer things in a certain direction, which tracks with the Carmen theory. And then when asked about the group, he goes "we are those who watch all, those who bide the time; those who will be Sovereigns of a Star, yet we are those who cannot all embody the same Star". First off, those who 'watch all' and 'bide the time'...sounds like Ayin to me, holy shit. And second, I wonder what Carmen promised them. Third...embody the star, I wonder if that's tied to engraving the Aspect?

Lastly, Rim goes on to say that his eyes were open to "the stem of this world, the singular yet all important stem" and that once your eyes are opened to it, everything else becomes hollow like "the fall of wilted petals". Stem? Petals? Is that a rose metaphor I see? Like the rose metaphor Demian uses in Canto 6?

And it also feels pertinent to note that the symbol for Lunacy is both a stylized brain-and-nervous-system like Carmen....and a fucking rose.

[master-dellamorte]

Carmen Kingston background story remake Number ?? :

Carmen wasn't accepted into the best college of her region bc her mum (drow) was a professor there, but She did illegal experiments and was expelled from the college and prohibited teaching in general (bandita e cancellata dall'albo). The head-teacher found excuses for Carmen's rejection but She and her family think that was the real reason.

So Carmen leaves to go fare away, to a college even more prestigious than the one which rejected her. On the road She needs money and art pays, but not enough. So, She also kind of acts like a private detective and bc of that She has good or very bad relationship with various local Police. She got inspired from her most interesting cases and wrote short novels (una raccolta di racconti brevi, gialli e thriller). It sells some copies, enough to ger her by, and She thinks It could help get admitted into the college.

[coolchevistianofficialsite]

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