#chills and dough spoilers

[shouldprobablybereading]

Orbs.

[yumnasfunblog]

Contains Spoilers for Chapter 5

Marjan: Should we tell him?

Dr. Keh: Yes.

Cicero, Praline, and Octavia, who went through a lot during Chapter 5: No. Ignorance is bliss.

Nasir + Flash just being happy because Alicante doesn't have to know what happened behind the scenes.

Peppertiti and Buddy in the background just chilling.

The bears (who did not steal the dough) laughing.

[vainvenus]

⌲;꒰ Baking 101 ꒱

Pairing(s): Jane "El" Hopper + Byers!Reader

12 Days Of Christmas Prompt: Cookies

Summary: Reader helps El bake cookies for the first time since she had no clue what she's doing.

Includings: Platonic (Reader's like a sibling to El), takes place during S4 but no spoilers, featuring will byers and jonathan byers, Jim and Joyce are married, tooth rotting fluff

An: I love writing sibling bonding fics, it's like a reward fr

@nzlikestea @go-on-and-kiss-the-girl @thelorewitch

"El... what're you doing up this late?"

You were rubbing you eyes and trying to get them to adjust to the dimly lit kitchen, you wouldn't have been able to tell it was El if it weren't for her hair and how it was up in a messy ponytail.

She was wiping something from her hands as she gestured to the bowl and your eyes glanced around the kitchen which was a mess.

There was flour almost everywhere including the girl's pajamas, hands and face. There was split milk on the counter and your eyes had widened a bit when you saw the amount of sugar that had been spilled everywhere.

"I was trying to make cookies for everyone..so we could eat them in the morning..." She had said, her eyes gazing around the mess she had made.

"It didn't go well.."

You had giggled, grabbing the broom "I can tell. How about this, I'll help you bake it but we'll still tell them it was your idea."

She had nodded at this, grabbing the other broom to help you clean up the mess she had made.

It took the two of you a good ten minutes to clean up all the flour that was everywhere along with the sugar, salt and egg yolks. You weren't even sure how she managed to get half of the ingredients on the flour and not the bowl but you knew she was still new at a few things.

You had decided to start all over, placing the ingredients that you were going to need to make the cookies and the icing on the now clean counter.

"Okay so first put the butter and sugar into the bowl and put it in the mixer, let it mix until it's all creamy." You had said and El had grabbed one of the bowls, putting the soft butter into it and the sugar as well.

She let the ingredients mix as you were mixing the flour, baking powder and salt together in a slightly bigger bowl. El waited until it looked nice enough and she leaned the bowl you to affirm that it was good.

You glanced over and nodded "Good job! Now can you add one egg and two teaspoons of vanilla extract?"

"Two teaspoons?" She had repeated in a confused tone and you put your bowl down, searching for the clatter of spoons and showing it to her, pointing at the smallest one.

"Pour the vanilla extract into this two times and put it in the bowl after you crack the egg. Make sure not to get any eggshells in there and then stir it really good." You had said and she nodded, smiling softly as she took the spoons from you.

You watched as she careful cracked the egg on the side of the bowl and let the yolk fall into the bowl before she placed the eggshells aside. You almost wanted to giggle when she started pouring the vanilla extract into the tablespoon, trying to be as precise and careful as she could doing both pours.

El grabbed one of the whisks and started stirring it together and looking at you as if she were doing it wrong but you gave her a thumbs up which made her face ease up.

"All done." She said as she gave the bowl to you and you had thanked her, pouring it in with the dry ingredients and stirring it together. "Now we'll let it chill in the fridge for a bit so it won't be all sticky when we use the cookie cutters." You explained, putting plastic wrap over the bowl and putting it in the fridge.

You had grabbed a sheet of parchment paper, placing it on the table and putting a bit of flour on it, not minding that El was following you around like a baby duck.

"What's that for?" She asked while you were grabbing the cookie cutters that came in the shapes of Christmas trees, snowmen, reindeers, snowflakes, candy canes and stars.

"In case the dough is still a little sticky." You responded, putting the cookie cutters on the table and taking a seat.

"Is there anything you're hoping to get for Christmas?" You asked her, deciding you didn't want to sit in silence while waking for the dough to chill.

El had tilted her head, brows knitting together as she thought for a second before a smile grew on her face and she started nodding. "Yes! A paint set so I can paint with Will. He's very good!"

You had nodded "He is really good! Do you think you'll be as good as him someday?"

She shook her head, a bright smile still on her face "No...Will's really good and I still can only draw stick figures."

"You and me both! God, even when I was younger and will was like a baby he was still better than me somehow." You had giggled and El had looked at you in disbelief.

"You weren't even a little better than him?"

You shook her head "I could barley draw a stick figure then and I'm still not that good now. We had a draw off yesterday and I got my ass handed to me." You giggled, getting up from your chair and going to the fridge so you could get the dough out.

You placed the bowl on the table and told El to take off the plastic wrap and throw it away as you had grabbed a pan, putting it on the counter a bit away from the bowl and parchment paper.

You then looked for the rolling pin, smiling triumphantly as you had found it and you handed it to El.

As you grabbed half of the dough, flattening it out a bit you had started explaining to El what to do. "You'll just press it against the dough, back and forth and just roll it out." She followed your instructions, rolling the pin back and forth against the dough until it was stretched out enough.

"Awesome! Now here comes the fun part!"

"What's the fun part?" A soft voice had questioned from the stairs and you had both turned your heads to see Will who looked like he was half awake by the way he was squinting and yawning.

"What're you doing up?" You questioned.

"Heard some noise and I was thirsty. What're you two doing up?"

"Making cookies." El responded and that seemed to wake up Will as his face started to light up. "Can I help?"

"Fine, only because we woke you up." You said and he had came down the rest of the stairs and stood next to El as he looked at the dough spread out.

You told El that there was really no way to mess up this part, you just place the cookie cutter on the dough, press down, pull the cookie cutter off and presto! You've got yourself a cute little Christmas themed cookie.

Will's favorite seemed to be the Christmas tree since you had seen him pick it up about ten times already and El showed much favor to the star shaped ones so it was up to you to make sure there was a mixed amount of each shape.

As you finished cutting them out you had made sure to spray the pan before placing the cookies on it and placed them into the oven. You grabbed the cute little timer and set it to the amount of time that the cookies needed to stay in the oven. Now all that was left was to put the icing on them, clean up the mess you made and hopefully get a few more hours of sleep in.

As you were cleaning up the things you weren't going to need anymore, Will deciding that he would help too just to make the process a little easier and quicker he had voiced a question he forgot about earlier.

"Why are you two up this late making cookies anyway?"

While you were washing your bowl you had answered "Well, Santa said he was just craving some homemade sugar cookies, so here we are. Maybe you could deliver them? I'm sure he's missing his favourite elf anyway."

"Hardy har har. That's so funny I almost forgot to laugh." He rolled his eyes and you had let out a laugh, finding your own joke very funny and you even heard El giggling as she was wiping down the counter.

"I don't know, Will. It was a little funny." She said, looking over her shoulder to look back the boy.

Will fake gasped, placing his hand over his heart "The betrayal! I can't believe you right now."

"Think about the betrayal Santa feels. One of his elves not wanting to send him cookies. I would be hurt." El said and you couldn't help but laugh as she pushed on your joke.

"I'm literally taller than you! Stop it!"

♡

With the cookies being set out to cool all that was left was to make the icing and start decorating the cookies then you could peacefully go back to sleep, thank god.

You put the powdered sugar, two tablespoons of milk, corn syrup and vanilla extract in a medium sized bowl then turned your head to Will, pointing at the cabinets.

"Will can you get the food dye while El mixes this?" You asked, passing the bowl to the girl who had already got the hang of everything by now and Will went to grab the food coloring.

But as he grabbed the food coloring his hands had brushed against the plastic bottles of spices, causing a few to drop with the sound of plastic clatter and you winced.

"Are you trying to wake up the whole house?!" You chuckled.

"Well, looks like you're almost there." A groggy voice said from the stairs and you sighed, knowing that you had woken up your other younger brother.

"Hii.." El whispered as he rounded the corner into the kitchen and he gave a small yet tired smile, waving to her. "Hey. Why are we up making cookies this late?"

"Will has us helping him make his cookies for Santa. Y'know, Elf work." You said as he had shot you a glare as he placed the small bottles of food coloring down.

"That wasn't funny earlier and it's still not funny."

"It's a little funny." Jonathan stifled a chuckle as he leaned against the table causing Will to huff.

"I'm done, [Y/n]." El said, showing you the fully mixed bowl and you clapped your hands together as quietly as you could not wanting to wake up either of your parents next.

"Nice, now we'll put put some into the bowls, mix the food coloring in them and put them in the piping bags." You said, pouring the white icing into different bowl and then handing them to El and Will.

Jonathan decided that if he was gonna be awake now he might as well help you guys so he started mixing the green icing.

Once all of you were finished you were the one to put them in the piping bags since you were the only one who knew how to do it the fastest and without creating a mess.

El grabbed a star shaped cookie and started to decorate it with the blue icing, all of you grabbed your own cookies of choice and started to ice them.

"Hey, can you pass the white icing?" Jonathan asked, holding out his hand for it and you had grinned smugly up at him.

"Yeah..of course." You said, putting some of the icing on your fingers and putting the piping bag into his hand.

"Thanks-" But he was cut off as you smudged the icing across his lips and face, giggling as you stepped back.

"[Y/n]! C'mon!" He groaned, wiping as much as the icing from his face as he could, lunging to wipe it all over yours and you moved out of the way causing Jonathan to get icing on Will instead.

"Jonathan!"

"[Y/n] started it! Get her back!" He said, grabbing you by your shoulders to use you as a shield and Will had grabbed the yellow icing smudging it on his hands and pressing them on your face as you squirmed and laughed.

You noticed El giggling while watching the situation go down and you held out your hand "El! Help me out here I'm being double attacked!"

She grabbed the blue icing, putting it on her hands and reaching to put them on Will's face leaving her blue handprints and he wiped them off, immediately wiping them back her.

Giggles and laughs fueled the once whisper quiet kitchen, all of you forgetting about how quiet you were supposed to be as you attacked each other with the icing.

"Will! You got it in my hair!"

"Because [Y/n] got it in mine!"

"Then get it in hers!"

It seemed like there as more icing in your hair and on your faces than the actually cookies.

"El! Get him! We're on the same team here!" You had exclaimed, giggling as you wiped the yellow icing from your nose and she blinked.

"There's teams?"

"Obviously! And we're winning!"

"What's with all the noise?"

All of you froze and stopped all the laughing and giggling, staring to look up at the stars where you both of parents stood, crossing their arms and looking down at you all.

It was quiet as you all looked at each other and you opened your mouth to tell them what had happened but El had spoke up.

"So...Will needed help making cookies to deliver to Santa because he's one of his Elfs-"

But before she could even finish the whole thing she was muffled as Will had pressed his icing based hand over her mouth.

"Enough with that story!" He shouted as El had started laughing again since you and Jonathan were loosing it.

"But it's true?"

"No, El it's the full truth, he's just in denial." You giggled, noticing that both of your parents were still standing on the stairs looking for an explanation to the mess and noise.

"Cookies?" You offered two to your parents that El decorated with a nervous smile.

"We made them ourselves!" The girl had chimed in beside you.

Will smiled, coming near the two of you. "Yeah and the icings really good!"

"Trust me, we know." Jonathan added some half of the icing was on your faces.

Your parents only sighed, and of course they couldn't be upset about the mess for long because how could they with such sweet kids like you all, smiling up at them with multiple colors of icing on your face.

"What are we gonna do with you all?" Joyce sighed, taking a bite from the cookie and letting out a sound of delight.

"Love, cherish and and spoil all of us?" You offered, bringing all of them into a tight hug as you all smiled like those cheesy family pictures up at them.

"And not punish us for the mess and noise because you love us all?"

[shewasverynice]

Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga) WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS

Rating: Explicit 

Major Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Non-Consensual Drug Use

Additional Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Use

Relationships: Takami Keigo | Hawks/Original Female Character(s), Original Character/Other(s) 

Categories: F/M, Multi 

Major Characters: Original Characters, Takami Keigo | Hawks, Hero Public Safety Commission, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead

. . . . . ╰──╮꒰ Halcyon - Part 4 ꒱ ╭──╯ . . . . .

The hero agency was buzzing with excitement. The visiting heroes from the HPSC were coming and going, and Chickadee had taken it upon herself to make a batch of sweets to thank them. In the agency's cozy kitchen, she stood by the counter, her brow furrowed in concentration as she carefully measured out ingredients. Her apron was already dusted with flour, and the sweet smell of baking filled the air.

Hawks walked in, drawn by the aroma. His red wings folded neatly behind him, he leaned against the doorway for a moment, watching Chickadee work. There was something endearing about her focus, the way she bit her lip as she mixed the batter.

"Need a hand?" he asked, stepping into the kitchen.

Chickadee jumped a little, not having noticed him there. "Oh! Hawks, you scared me." She laughed, her cheeks turning a slight shade of pink. "Sure, I could use some help. I'm making cookies, but they keep coming out a little too crispy."

Hawks smiled and rolled up his sleeves. "Let's see what we can do." He joined her at the counter, and they worked side by side, the awkwardness of their situation softened by the simple task at hand.

As they worked, Chickadee glanced up at him, her eyes curious. "Hawks, I've always wondered... what's it like having such a cool quirk? Your wings, I mean. It must be incredible to fly."

Hawks paused, his expression thoughtful. "It has its perks," he said, keeping his tone light. "But it wasn't always easy. Growing up with them, it was... challenging."

Chickadee nodded, "I can imagine. Kids can be pretty harsh." She hesitated, then added, "It's so weird sometimes, you know. Not having a quirk? Sometimes I feel like I don’t really belong here."

Hawks looked at her, his eyes softening. "You belong here, Chickadee. Quirk or not, you bring something unique to the team. Your kindness, your dedication... that’s what makes you special."

She blushed again, focusing on the dough she was rolling out. "Thanks, Hawks. That means a lot."

For a moment, they worked in silence, a comfortable quiet settling between them. Hawks glanced at her, feeling a rare sense of ease. "You know," he began, "Seeing those people in the slums really reminded me of how hard I used to have it. I felt so... I dunno apathetic. For a long time I was just so blank... But it made me stronger in the long run, I guess."

Chickadee looked up at him, her eyes wide with empathy. "It must have been really tough. But you turned out amazing, Hawks. You're a great leader and an even better friend."

Hawks smiled, touched by her words. "I'm not really that great of a leader but... Thanks, Chickadee."

Just then, the timer went off, signaling that the first batch of cookies was ready. Chickadee hurried to the oven, pulling out the tray with a flourish. "Let’s see how these turned out!"

The cookies were perfect this time, golden brown and smelling divine. Chickadee beamed, and Hawks couldn’t help but smile back. "You did it," he said, giving her a light nudge with his elbow.

"We did it," she corrected, her smile radiant. "Thanks for helping, Hawks."

As they arranged the cookies on a plate, ready for the visiting heroes, Hawks felt a warmth spread through him. Chickadee glanced up at him, her eyes bright with gratitude and he felt his wings puff up as the chill of excitement ran down his spine. There was something so thrilling and innocent about this little work crush. He wanted to hold onto the feeling as long as he could, at least until he'd have to let it go.

"How's it going with that lady, by the way?" Hawks asked, helping pick up some of the bowls while Chickadee wiped down the counters, "She seems like a hard-ass."

"She absolutely is!" Chickadee laughed, "I've never seen a tighter bun in my life!"

Hawks snickered, "She's got four arms too! D'you think that's like her destiny or something? To be a secretary?"

"I have no idea, but she's so uptight!" Chickadee laughed, "I'm sorry, but she's super rude. She doesn't have to point out every single dang mistake, right?"

"She probably thinks she's perfect." Hawks smirked, "She probably has never made a mistake in her life."

"Sometimes she gets confused about which hand she's using." Chickadee said dryly, "She has to just stand there like a busted robot at a theme park until she figures it out."

They locked eyes in the silence after her statement while the image hit them both, causing a burst of uncontrollable laughter. The tension that had been lingering over the last few days vanished in an instant, replaced by fits of giggles and tears. Chickadee found herself leaning on his shoulder, struggling to catch her breath amidst the laughter while Hawks was nearly doubled over.

"D'ya think she- she-!!" Hawks tried to keep the joke going, but he couldn't speak as he gasped for air. The situation escalated quickly, with both of them struggling to contribute to the joke amidst their laughter. They ended up wheezing and wiping tears from their eyes, trying to compose themselves.

"Holy shit," Chickadee sniffled, "Ohhh man I haven't laughed that hard in ages."

"I don't think I've ever heard you swear before." Hawks said, cocking his head playfully, "Sounds weird."

"Well, there's a lot of things about me that are weird." Chickadee teased, picking up a few stray spoons and taking them to the sink, "But I try not to swear too much on the job."

"Well, maybe we should spend some more time together off the clock?"

Hawks had the thought in an instant, but the words were chased away before he could speak them. He instinctively realized that he was treading on dangerous ground yet again. Not only was she his coworker, but she was a potential suspect. It would be unwise to pursue her, especially given his position within the HPSC. He had already faced enough reprimands for flirting and trying to engage in relationships during his training. Even if he desired it, asking Chickadee out was definitely not the wisest choice.

"That's probably for the best." He answered, both to his own racing thoughts and to her. Yeah, he thought to himself, it's better not to get too close.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

In the heart of the bustling city, Hawks stood on the rooftop overlooking a busy intersection. The afternoon light glinted off his blonde hair and his wings shifted as he surveyed the sidewalks. It had been almost a week since they'd called in backup and the rebuilding effort was going surprisingly well. Yet, the nagging suspicion had taken root in his mind: someone within the agency was leaking information to Halcyon.

It totally made sense. Halcyon always managed to intercept their calls flawlessly, and it was always quite a spectacle. Not only did they humiliate the heroes they had no regard for, but they also took care of what they considered their own problem. It was their typical modus operandi, and what could be a more effective approach than using insider information?

Determined to unmask the traitor, Hawks devised a plan. He had put in a false call for hero assistance through the police and only into the channels that the members of Nest would hear, something that would undoubtedly attract Halcyon's attention. If they showed up, it would confirm his suspicions.

Late the night before, Hawks submitted a report through the agency's secure system, detailing a supposed emergency in a remote part of the slums: a gang war about to erupt, civilians in danger. He sent the message, then waited, perched on the rooftop with a clear view of the area. As the minutes ticked by, Hawks watched the streets below. His heart pounded with anticipation and anxiety. Then, from the shadows, he saw them: Halcyon. They were here.

Hawks’ suspicions were confirmed. There was a mole in the agency.

He launched himself into the air, swooping down to confront the vigilante. With his wings flaring and an easy smirk on his face, he landed in front of Tiger. "What are you doing here, Halcyon?" He asked playfully, raising an eyebrow.

Tiger, startled by his question and sudden arrival stared at Hawks. "Well, I thought I was here to help with an emergency," he growled.

"Funny, because I created this 'emergency.' You're here because someone told you to be." Hawks said, striding closer, "Isn't that right?"

A tense silence fell between them. Tiger tilted his head back and crossed his arms over his chest, "You’re playing a dangerous game, Hawks."

Hawks narrowed his eyes. "I know it's one of them at Nest that's helping you, and now I know how you keep staying one step ahead of us."

"I thought you wanted to help me?" Tiger huffed, "Weren't we allies now?"

"Yeah, well, in regards to the slums of course. And for now I'm ignoring your vigilante shenanigans." Hawks chuckled, "But I can't allow you to continue to act above the law forever. What you're doing is still illegal and one of them at Nest is helping you do it. I'm going to find out who and why. It's only a matter of time."

"I thought you were different." Tiger growled, uncrossing his arms and flexing his claws, "You seemed like you understood better than the others. I won't let you ruin what I have."

Hawks twisted just as a bolt of lightning streaked past, narrowly missing him. With a powerful beat of his wings, Hawks dove towards the Halcyon, launching a volley of feathers as he closed the distance. The feathers sliced through the air with deadly precision, but Halcyon roared, releasing a shockwave of electricity that incinerated the projectiles mid-flight. The air crackled with residual energy, but Hawks was undeterred.

He maneuvered with agility, weaving through the maze of buildings to avoid the continuous lightning strikes. Each bolt left scorch marks on the concrete, evidence of the power behind them. Hawks knew he couldn't afford a direct hit.

In a flash, Tiger leapt across rooftops, closing the distance between them. His claws, charged with electricity, swiped at Hawks. But Hawks was faster, using gusts from his wings to disrupt Tiger's balance. Feathers struck in rapid succession, but Tiger's thick fur absorbed much of the impact, acting as a natural insulator.

Realizing a change in tactics was needed, Hawks quickly surveyed the environment. Power lines crisscrossed the rooftops, and an idea sparked in his mind. Using his feathers, he sliced through several lines, causing a cascade of electrical surges. The surrounding area became a chaotic tangle of live wires and sparks, a dangerous maze even for someone wielding lightning.

Tiger growled in frustration, momentarily distracted by the electrified environment. This was the opportunity Hawks had been waiting for. He soared high, then dove with breathtaking speed, focusing his remaining feathers into a concentrated burst aimed at the back of Tiger's neck – where the fur was thinner and less protected.

The feathers hit their mark with pinpoint accuracy. Tiger staggered, momentarily stunned by the precise attack. Hawks didn’t waste a second. With a powerful kick, he sent Tiger crashing into an exposed power grid. The resulting electrical discharge was immense, overwhelming even for the lightning-wielding Tiger.

As the sparks died down, Tiger groaned as he got back up to his feet. Hawks landed gracefully, folding his wings back as he surveyed the scene. With a final glare shared between the two of them, Hawks nodded as Tiger morphed into Phoenix and quickly flew away.

"Weird..." He muttered to himself. Tiger was typically way more impressive than that. No doubt, Hawks had shown progress as they had clashed a couple of times in the past few months in the same city. However, Tiger appeared to be off his game somehow. There wasn't any time to ponder on it at the moment, but he stored that thought for later.

Returning to the agency, Hawks began his investigation, aware that each member of his team probably had their own reasons for potentially betraying the group. Hummingbird was certainly innocent, that was much true. He wasn't exactly sure who it could be yet, but his first action was going to be to talk to them all individually.

First up: Owl. He was the most experienced and esteemed hero remaining at Nest. With his unique abilities and extensive network, he possessed advantages that the rest lacked. Considering Hummingbird's recent and dark decision, it seemed plausible that Owl's motive would be connected to that somehow. Although Hawks couldn't be certain, he believed that Owl was the most likely candidate, if he was being honest with himself.

He approached the older man that evening, already dressed and ready in his Hero costume.

"Well, this is a surprise!" Owl said with a warm smile, "You want to go on the evening patrol with me?"

Hawks returned the smile, "Yeah! I figured it's as good of a time as any to get to know one of my teammates, right?"

Owl nodded approvingly, "Very true. We certainly have the time these days with all this help." He waved his hand as they headed towards the front door, "Come fly with me."

In the bustling metropolis where the two heroes soared, Hawks found a moment of reprieve atop the highest skyscraper during their patrol. The moon was full, painting the sky in hues of white and navy, as the city below hummed with life. Beside him stood Owl with his calm and solemn demeanor.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" Hawks began, his tone light and inviting.

Owl nodded, but his eyes remained distant. "Yeah, it is. Makes you wonder how many more of these we'll get to see."

Hawks tilted his head, studying Owl's profile. "You've been quieter than usual. Something on your mind? I'm sure you're still shaken about Hummingbird."

For a moment, Owl hesitated, his wings ruffling slightly in the evening breeze. Then, with a deep breath, he turned to face Hawks fully. "Hawks, can I trust you with something personal?"

"Sure, of course," Hawks replied without hesitation.

Owl looked down, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I'm sure that Iroha is in a similar situation, but I've never really felt in control. Not during my entire time at this agency."

Hawks' eyes widened slightly, but he remained silent, allowing Owl to continue.

"Kingfisher... he was hyper-controlling. Every decision, every move, he dictated it all. I felt like a pawn on his chessboard, always a follower, never a leader." Owl's voice grew more intense, his frustration evident. "He never let me take charge or make any decisions even though I was supposed to be his protege. I felt caged, Hawks. And even though Kingfisher is gone, the shadows of his control still linger."

Hawks frowned, understanding the gravity of Owl's confession.

"It's been on my mind since all of our failures have been coming to light. I didn't step up when I should have and I'll always regret that." Owl sighed, shaking his head. "This deep-seated frustration... it eats at me. Sometimes, I wonder if I'll ever truly be free from it. I love this team. But I also think that perhaps Kingfisher was right. Maybe I never was meant to be a leader."

Hawks placed a reassuring hand on Owl's shoulder. It felt similar to his own situation, trapped under the heel of the HSPC. He too had never had a chance to do what he wanted. "Yeah, I get that." Hawks said, "It's difficult to know what the right thing is in the moment, especially when you've never been able to find out for yourself."

Hawks smiled, then continued, "But, hey. I don't think we really need a specific solo leader anyway. I prefer we work as a team. As equals. There's no reason why we can't be." He chuckled, "Easier for all of us in the long run, yeah? No one should shoulder the burden alone."

Owl looked at Hawks, gratitude and determination shining in his eyes. "Thank you, Hawks. It means a lot to hear you say that."

"We're a team, Owl. We'll lift each other up." Hawks said with a grin, then spread his wings wide. "Let's get back to it."

The next afternoon, Hawks chose to meet up with Heron while the white-winged man was out on his own. His sharp eyes caught sight of Heron, standing on a light pole, gazing out over the city sidewalks. With his striking hair and broad white wings, Heron was hard to miss.

"Hey, Heron," Hawks called out, gliding over effortlessly. Heron turned, a small, tight smile on his face.

"Hey, Hawks." Heron answered as Hawks landed on the adjacent pole.

The two heroes stood nearly side by side, the silence stretching awkwardly between them. Hawks knew Heron had something on his mind—he could see it in the tension in his shoulders and the way his eyes kept darting away.

"So," Hawks began casually, "How are you holding up?"

Heron sighed, his wings shifting restlessly. "I'm... alright. I'm just glad to be able to fix what we fucked up so bad... And I... I guess..."

"And?" Hawks prompted, sensing the hesitation.

Heron's yellow eyes flicked over to Hawks for a brief moment, "I feel guilty. I feel like I should have seen it and because I didn't see it people don't take me seriously. Especially Hummingbird and Owl. It's like they see me as a kid, not a professional hero."

Hawks nodded thoughtfully. "Why do you think that is?"

Heron hesitated, then blurted out, "Because I'm younger and I don't know shit. And they're right! Maybe I haven't proven myself yet. Maybe I didn't notice such a huge thing. But I want to get better. I need to."

Hawks placed a hand on Heron's shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. "Look, Heron, everyone starts somewhere. It's not about how old you are or how others see you. It's about what you do. Prove them wrong if you have to."

Heron looked up, meeting Hawks' gaze. "That's what I want. I want to move to a bigger city, where my talents can shine on a larger stage. Here, I feel... confined."

Hawks smiled, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Well, ambition is good. But remember, it's not just about the size of the stage. It's about the impact you make. Show them what you're capable of, and they'll have no choice but to take you seriously."

Heron nodded, a new resolve hardening in his eyes. "You're right. Thanks, Hawks."

"Anytime," Hawks replied, stepping back. "And hey, if you ever need backup or just someone to talk to, I'm here. We're a team, after all."

As they parted ways, Hawks watched Heron take to the skies, his white wings catching the sunlight. He had a feeling Heron would do just fine. Ambition and the desire for respect were powerful motivators. All Heron needed was a chance to prove himself—and Hawks knew that chance would come sooner rather than later.

Owl and Heron didn't seem to have the kind of motivation to do something like leaking calls to Halcyon. Owl seemed loyal and Heron likely was too just because his father was at the Agency. Heron wouldn't want to destroy his father's legacy, at least Hawks didn't think so. He wouldn't rule either of them out completely, but they seemed genuine.

His next person would be Kiwi. Kiwi had a loose friendship with Phoenix which made her a prime suspect for sure. Still, he wasn't completely sure. Kiwi was the most charismatic of the heroes at Nest as well, so if anyone was hiding something it could easily be her.

Hawks soared through the twilight sky. His sharp eyes scanned the streets below, ever vigilant. Beside him, Kiwi ran across the rooftops, her powerful legs effortlessly clearing the gaps between buildings. Kiwi's wings fluttered slightly in the evening breeze with every jump.

"Where to, Hawks?" Kiwi called out, her voice steady and focused.

Hawks narrowed his eyes, his feathers twitching. "There's a disturbance near the old warehouse district. A group of thugs is causing trouble. Let’s check it out."

Kiwi nodded, her eyes sparking with determination. "Lead the way."

Hawks dove towards the source of the commotion, with Kiwi leaping from building to building, keeping pace below. They arrived at the warehouse district, where a group of thugs, their faces obscured by hoods, were wreaking havoc. They smashed crates, spray-painted walls, and intimidated the few remaining workers.

One of the thugs, a burly man with tattoos snaking up his arms, barked orders to the others. "Spread out! Make sure no one's left to report this!"

Hawks and Kiwi exchanged a glance. Without a word, they moved into action.

Hawks swooped down first, his feathers sharp and precise as he launched them like darts, disarming the thugs. They stumbled back, caught off guard by the sudden attack from above. As they tried to regroup, Kiwi landed in their midst, her presence commanding and fierce.

"Time to clean up this mess," she declared with a wide grin, her voice echoing in the alley.

One thug lunged at her, but Kiwi sidestepped, her movements fluid and graceful. With a powerful spin, she delivered a high kick that sent him crashing into a stack of crates. Another thug charged, swinging a metal pipe, but Kiwi ducked and retaliated with a swift kick to his midsection, doubling him over in pain.

Hawks continued to rain down precision strikes from above, his feathers immobilizing the thugs one by one. "Kiwi, watch your left!" he called out, spotting a thug trying to sneak up on her.

Kiwi reacted instantly, turning and launching a sidekick that sent the would-be attacker sprawling. "Thanks, Hawks!"

With their combined efforts, the thugs were quickly overwhelmed. The leader, realizing their predicament, tried to make a run for it. But Hawks wasn't about to let him escape. He shot forward, his wings propelling him with incredible speed, and tackled the thug to the ground, pinning him down with his sharp feathers.

Kiwi approached, her stance relaxed but ready for any surprises. "Guess you picked the wrong place to cause trouble," she said, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.

The thug leader glared up at them, his bravado fading. "You heroes... always ruining the fun!"

"It's our job," Hawks replied, his tone calm and confident. "And we're pretty good at it."

With the thugs subdued, Hawks contacted the authorities to take them into custody. As the police arrived, Hawks and Kiwi shared a satisfied nod.

"Nice work out there," Hawks said, his eyes twinkling with admiration. "You really kicked ass."

Kiwi chuckled, her wings fluttering slightly. "Couldn't have done it without your backup. We make a pretty good team, Hawks."

"That we do, Kiwi. That we do." He smirked at her, patting her shoulder.

With the thugs secured and the authorities handling the aftermath, Hawks and Kiwi stepped away from the bustling scene. They found a quiet spot on the rooftop of a nearby building, the cityscape spread out before them in a mosaic of twinkling lights and shadows.

Hawks perched on the edge, his wings half-furled as he watched Kiwi with keen interest. She stood nearby, her silhouette strong against the evening sky, dark curly hair framing her determined face. Her tiny brown wings fluttered slightly, catching the light from the city below.

"Kiwi, you did great out there," Hawks began, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. "It's not often I see someone take down a group like that so efficiently."

Kiwi smiled, a touch of pride lighting up her eyes. "Thanks, Hawks. I've had to learn to fight hard and fast. People don't always see me coming, with these lil wings and all."

Hawks nodded, understanding the deeper layers behind her words. "Must've been tough growing up."

Kiwi's expression softened, a mixture of pain and resilience flashing across her face. "Yeah, it was. Being half Japanese and having these useless wings... people were quick to judge, to write me off. But it's made me stronger, more determined to prove myself."

Hawks studied her for a moment, weighing his next words carefully. "You've definitely proven yourself. But in our line of work, trust is everything. You know that, right?"

Kiwi met his gaze, her eyes steady and unwavering. "I do. I know what you're getting at, Hawks. There's someone helping Halcyon, and you're trying to figure out if it's me."

Hawks raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "You're perceptive. I'll give you that."

Kiwi took a deep breath, her wings fluttering slightly. "Look, I get it. I've had to deal with suspicion my whole life. But let me be clear—I have no ill intentions. I became a hero to fight for justice, to protect those who can't protect themselves. I know what it's like to be seen as less than, and I want to change that. Not just for me, but for everyone who's ever felt the same way."

Hawks could sense the sincerity in her words, the fire of her convictions burning brightly. He leaned back, relaxing his stance. "I believe you, Kiwi. But you understand why I had to ask. We can't afford to let our guard down."

Kiwi nodded, her expression resolute. "Of course. I’d expect nothing less. But if we're going to work together, you need to know you can count on me. I'll prove my loyalty through my actions, not just my words."

Hawks smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "Fair enough. You've already made a good impression tonight. Let's keep this momentum going."

They stood there for a moment longer, the silence between them filled with mutual respect. Hawks knew that Kiwi's journey had forged her into a formidable hero, one who could be a valuable ally in the battles to come.

"One last thing," Hawks said, breaking the silence. "Why the name Kiwi?"

Kiwi chuckled, a lightness returning to her voice. "It's a reminder of my roots. Kiwis are small, flightless birds, but they're resilient and unique... Aaaaand my mom is from New Zealand."

Hawks laughed, a sound that echoed across the rooftop. "I like it. Fits you perfectly."

As the night deepened, they continued their conversation, sharing stories of their pasts, their struggles, and their hopes for the future. Hawks felt a growing sense of camaraderie with Kiwi, recognizing in her the same fierce determination that drove him. In a world filled with uncertainty and danger, finding a kindred spirit was a rare and precious thing.

As the night wore on and the city's hum softened into the quiet of late evening, Hawks and Kiwi wrapped up their conversation and parted ways. Hawks soared through the sky, his mind still buzzing with thoughts. He felt more assured about Kiwi's loyalty, but his mission was far from over.

Landing on the roof of his agency's headquarters, Hawks allowed himself a moment to reflect. There was one more member of his team he needed to investigate—Chickadee.

Chickadee, with her bright, eager demeanor and unwavering willingness to help, seemed like the epitome of innocence. She was quirkless, yet she compensated for it with her dedication. She handled communications and calls, ensuring everything ran smoothly. But it was precisely this role that gnawed at Hawks' instincts. In a job where trust was paramount, even the most innocent facade could be a cover for something more sinister.

Hawks thought back to his interactions with Chickadee. She was always cheerful, always eager to assist in any way she could. She had a knack for making everyone feel at ease, a skill that was invaluable in the high-stress world of hero work. But Hawks couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to her than met the eye.

"Quirkless doesn't mean harmless," he muttered to himself, pacing the rooftop.

It would be easy for someone in Chickadee's position to leak calls, alter records, or hide critical information. Everything was recorded, of course, but recordings could be faked, and data could be manipulated. Hawks needed to be sure.

The room was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of computer screens. Chickadee was at her station, headphones on, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she managed the night's communications. She looked up and smiled as Hawks entered.

"Hey, Hawks! What brings you here this late?" she asked, her tone light and friendly.

Hawks smiled back, masking his intent with his usual charm. "Just doing a routine check-in. You know how it is—can't be too careful these days."

Chickadee nodded, her expression earnest. "Absolutely. Is there something specific you need help with?"

Hawks walked over to her station, his eyes scanning the array of monitors. "Actually, I was hoping to review some of the call logs from tonight. Thought I might spot something the automated systems missed."

Chickadee's face lit up with enthusiasm. "Of course! Let me pull those up for you."

As she worked, Hawks observed her closely, looking for any signs of deception or hesitation. But Chickadee's movements were smooth, her demeanor relaxed and confident. She brought up the logs and handed over the headset.

"Here you go, Hawks. If you need anything else, just let me know."

Hawks listened to the recordings, his sharp mind analyzing every detail. Everything seemed in order, but his instincts kept him on edge. He thanked Chickadee and left the room, his mind racing with possibilities. It wasn't impossible that she'd set something up for just such an occasion. If she was cunning enough, she'd know how. He wasn't a computer wiz by any means, but he knew enough from his training that there were many ways to fake logs and alter things that were supposedly unchanging.

Back up to his room for the night, Hawks pondered his next move as he hung up his flight jacket by the door. Chickadee's innocence might be genuine, but he couldn't dismiss the nagging doubts. He decided to set up a subtle test, something that would reveal any hidden agendas without tipping his hand.

⤶ Prev Main Next ↪

[project1939]

100+ Films of 1952

Now I’ve made it to 120 films, which was my original estimate... but I keep discovering more things to watch! Hollywood was regularly cranking out around 400 movies a year at its height in the late 1940s, so there is no shortage of candidates. Most are not especially remembered today, which means they are easily found online for free. So... I think the new number will be 150 films. Crazy? Absolutely! But a highly interesting experiment, nonetheless.  

Film number 121: Anything Can Happen  

Release date: April 3rd, 1952 

Studio: Paramount 

Genre: comedy/drama

Director: George Seaton 

Producer: William Perlberg 

Actors: Jose Ferrer, Kim Hunter, Kurt Kaszner 

Plot Summary: Giorgi arrives in the United States as an immigrant from Georgia, overcoming the hurdles of learning English and settling into a new country. Thankfully he has lots of help from fellow Georgian immigrants and a young American stenographer who records traditional folk music in her spare time. 

My Rating (out of five stars): ***½  

I really enjoyed this, even if it isn’t a perfect film. It was so cool to get to see Eastern European immigrants as the protagonists in a film from this era. (Some spoilers)

The Good: 

Jose Ferrer. He was Puerto Rican in real life, but he played an Eastern European surprisingly well. I’d need a Georgian to tell me if his accent is truly on point, but it certainly worked for me. He was extremely likeable and moving in the role, and it was especially interesting to see how incredibly different his performance here was to his Toulouse Lautrec in Moulin Rouge. 

Kim Hunter. I loved her! She was perfect as a sort of intellectual leading lady, and her whole presence was warm and empathetic.  

The heroine was a folk music collector! She found and recorded traditional songs performed by authentic singers, and I wanted to jump through the screen and be her friend! Interestingly, The Anthology of American Folk Music was released in 1952- it was a mammoth collection of field recordings of traditional folk music, and it became the basis of the folk revival movement in the 1950s and 60s... 

I was excited to learn that this was based on a book written by Giorgi Papashvily himself about his experiences immigrating from Georgia and marrying his wife, Helen. 

It was nice to get a positive portrayal of Eastern European immigration to the U.S., especially given that Georgia was part of the Soviet Union at the time. The characters were treated with empathy and respect, reminding Americans that almost all of us were immigrants once. 

Most of the other Georgian side characters were colorful and entertaining, although sometimes their cutesiness was a tad too exaggerated. 

The little bits of folk music throughout. Ferrer was wonderful to listen to. 

The hilariously true problems of English spelling and pronunciation! A longer segment had characters arguing about the pronunciation of “dough.” One guy convinced another it was “duff,” because that’s how “rough,” “tough,” and “enough” are pronounced! 

The Bad: 

Hunter and Ferrer didn’t have a ton of chemistry, unfortunately. I liked them both a lot, but there wasn’t any sexual tension. (That was supposed to be the case for Helen and Giorgi within the film, so maybe it was a specific direction? I don’t know.) 

Another Hollywood warning to young women about the horrors of becoming an old maid! “You become like furniture!” The way Helen’s grandmother pushed her to marry Giorgi, even if she didn’t feel any sparks, was upsetting. “You can get chills down your spine from a cold shower. Fred gave you that, and it was the two coldest years you’ve ever known! He didn’t need you, and that’s the only basis for a marriage- to be needed and wanted.”  

Sometimes the film was too sentimental and light-hearted. It definitely only showed the positive aspects of immigrating. 

The plot got overly episodic at times as well, jumping from one adventure to another. 

More blacklisting again! Kim Hunter was blacklisted in Hollywood after this film until the late 1950s for the “crime” of being a progressive Democrat.  

[wickedsniffles]

I've Built My Dreams Around You

Thanks again to my lovely commissioner for requesting that this idea be brought to light! 🎄 I really enjoyed writing this. Reposted from my main account, wickedscribbles.

(Just wanted to add that there *are* spoilers for the Hallmark movie One December Night in this fic, so if you're not interested in being spoiled for that, click away!) Summary: Padme and Obi-Wan spend a quiet evening together during the holiday season. Their choice of movie brings some unexpected emotions to the surface. Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padme Amidala (Third Person Perspective)

Rating: Mature

Tags: modern AU, Christmas fic, married couple, domestic fluff, teasing/banter, sexual tension, pet names, allergies, sneezing, handkerchiefs, emotional hurt/comfort, nose-blowing, dry humping, making out

Word Count: 6.1K

Their entire home is filled with the sweet smell of sugar cookies, and Padmé licks the edge of her thumb with a smile. Any other time of year she might consider pulling out this recipe to be more trouble than it's worth; rolling the dough, letting it chill, and making homemade frosting on top of it all. But there's no denying the delicious results, and the holiday season is as good a time as ever to put in the extra work.

Of course, that doesn't stop Obi-Wan from begging for them whenever the craving hits – Padmé feels like it's thrice a year at least – and she demurely replies that he can make them himself if he wants them so badly. And he does, shooting her teasing glances as he ties on her frilly apron. His handiwork might not be as pretty as Padmé's: each cut-out shape carefully frosted and sprinkled. But they taste just as good, and she'll be the first to admit that the impromptu July sugar cookies always hit the spot.

Now that it's the season for them, though, Padmé is in her realm. Each ingredient is set out on the counter in the order she'll be using it. The cookie cutters are cleaned and shining on a dish towel next to the sink. Her beloved standing mixer, mint green, is propped back and ready to beat the frosting to life. The cookie dough is in the stage where it's all sugar and butter, an irresistible crunch against her teeth when she licks at her thumb again.

There's a chuckle from across the room, and Padmé looks to see her husband shaking his head in amusement.

"Keep that up and we won't have cookies left to frost," he remarks.

Her face heats with a blush. "And how many times have I caught you in the same situation, sir?"

He folds his arms, knowing she's right.

The gentle grin aimed her way never fails to make Padmé melt. Coupled with seeing him dressed for the weather in his light blue cardigan, she's again struck by her life partner's good looks. Even though the two of them are often praised as an attractive couple, secretly she believes that Obi-Wan outshines her. Because unlike some men she's known and dated in the past, Obi-Wan would never think to preen or boast over his own physical features. He's humble and funny and sweet, and she loves him more and more as time passes.

"I suppose you're not wrong," he relents, and Padmé giggles. "Though it's not my fault you're making the best cookies I've ever tasted."

"Keep flattering me," Padmé answers, her tone light. "It will get you everywhere."

Playfully, she turns back to the task at hand, knowing he'll cross the threshold into the kitchen to continue their little game.

She's cracking an egg into the mixing bowl when she feels Obi-Wan press against her back. His clever fingers tiptoe against the frills of her favorite apron, tugging a little as if to take it off her, but Padmé knows he won't. The line of his nose nudges against her neck before he presses his lips there, leaving the tantalizing brush of beard, and Padmé shivers. All at once it seems rather difficult to focus on getting that egg mixed into the dough.

Obi-Wan's hard – she can feel it, though he isn't actively trying to rub against her.

He's right, she realizes with a grin she keeps all to herself. At this rate, we'll never get the cookies done. She thought that this long into their relationship, some of the passion would have died down. That has not been the case. But they have cookies to bake and Christmas decorations to put out today – so for the time being, one of them is going to have to keep their plans on track.

Clearing her throat, Padmé straightens a little, turning to look at him over her shoulder.

"Didn't you say you were going to get the tree out of the attic?" She asks.

For a moment, the kisses continue, and if Padmé were a weaker woman she would go ahead and let them. His strong arms are wrapped around her waist, keeping her flush against the counter. A split second fantasy passes through Padmé's mind where she imagines them putting the half-finished dough in the refrigerator, Obi-Wan pulling down her sweatpants and bending her over right there –

It fades as Obi-Wan stops, running a gentle hand up her forearm to show her he understands the time for intimacy has passed. Yet another thing she appreciates about having him as a partner; after so long knowing one another, he can read her, in small unspoken cues. She's never once felt uncomfortable around him, when sex is either something she wants or isn't in the mood for. He's endlessly gracious.

"I believe I was," Obi-Wan says, giving her one last quick peck. "We'll decorate the tree, then watch your movie?"

A low thrum of happiness wells in Padmé's chest. "Mmhm. Cookies should be done by then."

"Alright, love. Back in a minute."

Padmé watches Obi-Wan descend their narrow hallway, pulling the latch in the ceiling that brings the attic ladder sliding down. After she's certain he's making his way up safely, her attention goes back to finally finishing the dough. It'll need to chill for a while before any actual baking can be done, after all, and then cut into shapes once that part of the process is finished.

Just as she's sliding the sugar cookie dough into the refrigerator, Obi-Wan's creaking footsteps from above signal that he's on his way down with the tree.

"Need a hand, babe?" She calls, dusting her hands off on the front of her apron.

"I've got it, thank you!"

Seconds later, his feet emerge, then his torso, and finally Obi-Wan as a whole, awkwardly carrying the storage container that holds their Christmas tree. His copper hair is tousled, the edge of his cardigan riding up to reveal a few inches of pale tummy.

"Careful," Padmé says anxiously, walking forward.

She never likes the idea of him on a ladder – her friend works in a hospital, and insists that many of the accidents they see are ladder falls. Bad enough that he's on one at all, let alone carrying something as bulky as their Christmas tree.

With Padmé practically biting her nails, Obi-Wan makes it back to the ground. He places the tree down with a thud, and a cloud of dust dances off the lid of the thick plastic storage container. It puffs around their feet, a heavy culmination from the past year. Of course, they try not to go up there for anything they don’t explicitly need – there’s an issue with the old insulation, and everything and anything not tucked away in boxes soon falls victim to the stuff.

Obi-Wan’s no exception. He sniffs thickly as the dust rises into the air around them, his nose already twitching. He’s terribly allergic to dust. If Padmé had been thinking, she would have washed her hands and gotten the tree down herself. The silly man had just gotten her so hot and bothered by pressing her up against the counter that it had taken most of her focus to finish what she was doing at all. It takes mere seconds for him to stifle a harsh sneeze into the sleeve of his cardigan, blinking back irritated tears.

“Oh, bless you, love.”

“Thanks,” he says, sniffling again. “I forgot about all the blasted dust.”

“But the dust didn’t forget about you.” Padmé has to laugh as he sneezes again, looking irritated. “Bless you. Oh – bless you.”

Annoyed with his predicament, Obi-Wan fumbles for the handkerchief he always keeps close at hand; he’s sensitive to so many things. Padmé thinks it’s cute that he keeps one on his person. A somewhat antiquated habit, but one she’s never had an issue with. Obi-Wan is, at his core, far more old-fashioned than he is modern.

She leans against the wall, content to wait as he pulls the thing free and blows his nose in an attempt to shake the irritation loose. Poor thing, she thinks in sympathy as he emerges, flushed.

“I’m so sorry,” he says several moments later, when he seems to feel he has a good grip on the situation. “We’re supposed to be getting the tree decorated, not standing here in the hall.”

“Aw, you know I don’t mind. You can’t help it.” Padmé leans in to kiss the tip of his irritated nose, and Obi-Wan rolls his eyes at her playfully. “Are you alright now?”

Obi-Wan nods, replacing the handkerchief in his pocket.

“For the time being,” he admits.

She’s sure he’ll sneeze again here and there as they get the Christmas tree out of its storage container, but that’s alright. As long as he isn’t made overly uncomfortable by his allergies, she isn’t bothered by it.

Together they drag the tree into the living room and get to work. With soft Christmas music playing from their Bluetooth speaker and the two of them working in tandem to get everything set up in the corner reserved just for their beloved tree, time passes seamlessly.

Obi-Wan gets the three tree segments placed together and screws the tree stand in place. Padmé comes over to help “fill out” the branches from where they were flattened in storage, making sure the tree looks its best and fullest before they place the lights and ornaments. Padmé is downright meticulous about how she strings the lights – making sure that every section of strand is even. Obi-Wan pokes fun at her for standing on her toes, for moving back to get the entire tree in her line of sight before she can declare it looks good enough to be considered done.

They put the ornaments on together, and each one is a special piece of their relationship’s history. There are the typical baubles, too, of course – heavy hand-blown glass ornaments from the local shops that Padmé couldn’t resist, and real wooden carved snowflakes that Qui-Gon gave them several years back. But the unique ones are acquired every year they’re together – going on six years total – and the newest ornament is a little piece they brought back from their trip to Scotland to visit Obi-Wan’s extended family. That had been a marvelous time.

Padmé’s the one to place it, arranging it toward the center of the tree, at eye level. When all the ornaments are on, they both stand back to admire their work, knowing that only one item remains to place, waiting patiently in the box.

Catching Obi-Wan’s eye, Padmé bends down to grab the angel. It’d been her grandmother’s, a gorgeous thing dressed in antique lace. Her delicate porcelain face, eyes closed, is one of the first things Padmé could remember from Christmas as a child. The fact that she gets to keep it for her own tree means more to her than she thinks her grandmother understands.

“Ready?” Obi-Wan looks to her, and she nods.

Two strong hands grip her at the waist, and Padmé feels herself lifted, squealing with surprise at the suddenness of it. It takes only seconds, and she’s at the right height to place the dainty angel on her spot at the top of the tree. Then she’s down, on the ground again, her cheeks pink from the rush.

It’s become a tradition to place their angel this way. Their first year of marriage, Padmé had looked around for a stepstool to do it herself, and realized they didn’t own one yet. Obi-Wan didn’t see that as a problem, and they’ve been doing it this way ever since. Padmé can’t say she minds – at all. Being lifted up to the top of the tree feels like the perfect end to their decorating, and as they plug in the lights to see their work, she couldn’t be happier with the finished results.

“You did an excellent job, sweetheart,” says Obi-Wan, putting his arm around her waist with an affectionate squeeze. “It looks perfect.”

“You helped, you know,” she snorts.

“Yes, but you’re the one who puts your heart into it.” He smiles, and his glance is so fond that Padmé feels herself returning the look before she can think. “I love how much you love Christmas. You’re adorable, do you know that?”

Obi-Wan draws her into his arms until they’re nose-to-nose, brushing Padmé’s against his own. It’s a gesture they used to do when they were first dating and too shy to actually initiate kisses with one another as often as they would’ve liked. Over the years they’ve started calling it rabbit smooch. (Anakin and Ahsoka will each pretend to vomit whenever they see it done in front of them.)

But now that they’re older, braver with one another, rabbit smooches often become much more than a simple brush of noses. Again Padmé finds herself driven to distraction at her husband's mere touch, at his warmth and scent and closeness. Now she can't help but twine herself around him, the two of them soft in the glow of Christmas lights. Her plans for the evening fade to the back of her mind as Obi-Wan's mouth moves against her own, clever, the tip of his tongue asking permission to move past her lips.

And then the timer beeps from the kitchen, reminding her that she needs to finish what she's started there.

"Do you want those sugar cookies or not?" She teases, catching the look of mild exasperation on his face.

It doesn't take long to cut shapes out of the chilled dough, an array of snowflakes and stars and circles. Once the oven is heated, in they go, while Padmé makes sure the frosting tastes the way she wants it.

In the meantime, Obi-Wan gets the movie pulled up. Though he'll never admit it, he's just as big of a fan of these holiday films as she is, and this latest stars one of their favorite actors. They've been waiting for a day off together to decorate the tree and watch it, and judging from the synopsis, it'll be one they both enjoy.

From her station in the kitchen, she can still hear him sniffling a little as she frosts. Padmé laughs through her nose, concentrating on the task at hand. The cookies are right on the edge of cool – not as cool as they should be, perhaps, but neither of them could wait any longer to eat them. The icing melts slightly at the edges as the butter knife dances its way across the surface of each cookie, leaving a hearty spread behind before Padmé dusts red or green sanding sugar atop them.

The holiday dessert melts in her mouth at the first bite, and she closes her eyes in pure enjoyment. She can't help her little moan of delight, savoring as she chews.

Maybe Obi-Wan is right, she thinks. We should be making these year-round.

"Movie's up, sweetheart," Obi-Wan calls from the living room.

"Alright! Give me a minute with these."

A full plate of sugar cookies later, Padmé settles down on the couch with him. They're each aware that they're getting crumbs on the blanket they're cozied under, but right now neither cares. Because Obi-Wan's spooning Padmé from behind, his body flush against her back. The bristle of his beard lies against the line of her cheek. She loves being close to him like this, knowing that it's almost impossible to get any closer.

Almost.

She's glad that Obi-Wan can't see the furious blush on her face as the movie begins. If he knew just how many times her mind has drifted to his body today, then doubtless he'd spent equal amounts of time teasing her and taking her apart. There'll be time for that later. Right now the movie is starting, and she's intent on actually watching it.

"Comfortable?" He asks, and Padmé grows warmer at the low purr of his voice right against the shell of her ear.

"Mmhm." Her voice is breathy, embarrassed.

A quick kiss to her heated cheek.

"Good."

The movie centers around a woman named Quinn, who's trying to get the young up and coming musical talent she represents the recognition she deserves. Quinn is frustrated by the fact that her client isn't achieving her dreams, and it's made more complicated by the fact that the would-be star is facing significant debt.

"But there's more to it," Padmé had insisted earlier that week, reading off that first little snippet of plot to her less-than-interested husband. "Quinn's father is half of a rock duo that split over a decade earlier, and her love interest is the other man's son! They're both back in their hometown trying to get their fathers to perform one last concert."

"So they grew up together, and now they're falling in love?" Obi-Wan asks as they watch the first twenty minutes play out.

"They have to be," she says. "Look at the way they act around one another."

It's clear to Padmé that love is going to blossom between Quinn and the leading man, Jason. Because not only did they grow up together, establishing that much-needed friendship, but both of them working towards a mutual goal during the Christmas season is a given for romance in these sorts of films. And the little childhood nicknames? Padmé can feel her heart melting in her chest.

Actually, it reminds her a lot of how she and Obi-Wan got together. They had been introduced through mutual friends all the way back in college – when she was in her first year and he was pursuing his Bachelor's – and the attraction between them was instantaneous.

Both of them were too shy to make a move for long, torturous months, though in the end that turned out to be a good thing.

She’d first spotted him outside her Intro to Political Theory course, almost ten years ago. There were spectacles balanced on his nose, all his attention focused on the short, irritated blonde in front of him – a woman Padmé had seen around campus. Her mother had always reprimanded her for staring, so Padmé didn’t; especially when the two seemed to be having a hushed argument. But the quick, fleeting glances she caught of the man with the posh accent were more than enough to keep her interested.

After that first day, she’d spot him alone, sitting in the library or sipping coffee in the cafeteria. Once he’d caught her attention, it was hard to stop thinking about him. Few of the other students had his distinguished appearance, and for a while she wondered if he was an especially young looking professor. Some asking around painted a clearer picture of him; he was Obi-Wan Kenobi, history major.

Minoring in philosophy, her friend Dormé had added. So do with that what you will.

Padmé herself had just ended a rocky relationship with Anakin, and Obi-Wan was getting over a tumultuous breakup with his long-term girlfriend, Satine. Starting off as friends gave them the time they needed to nurse their broken hearts and get to know one another. She knows it's not the same as growing up together, but having plenty of time to build any foundation makes her feel more comfortable than just rushing in, as she had in the past.

"She loves Christmas just as much as you do," Obi-Wan says brightly, and Padmé can tell without looking that he's smiling at the little similarity. "Drowning in decorations…that sounds right."

"Oh, stop."

The movie is full of plenty of soft moments, but for every cute scene, there's one equally filled with sadness. For instance – Quinn's father Mike struggled heavily with alcoholism throughout his career, and she's still having a difficult time forgiving him for all the pain it caused her. Padmé can almost feel the coldness between the two characters towards the beginning of the film as they stand in her father's home, affectionately called Big Red, several feet apart.

On top of that, Padmé doesn't have a good feeling about why Jason's father, Steve, keeps forgetting things throughout scenes. Something tells her that that sort of detail isn't just a throwaway, and eventually it'll lead up to something big in the final act.

Even as the romance between Quinn and Jason builds and they eventually get their fathers to cooperate for the final show, the devastating news is at last delivered. The reason Jason's father has been struggling is because he's been diagnosed with Alzheimer's, and for him, this means the end of his career. No more touring, as he'd planned to do after this Christmas concert. This reunion with his old friend will be his final show. Everything he's done for years upon years, brought to a devastatingly early finish.

"Oh no," Obi-Wan whispers from behind her as the news is confessed. "Oh, that's terrible."

Padmé says nothing as she watches the scene play out, feeling mixed emotions. Over the course of the next few minutes, each of the main characters gets their quiet moment to learn about Jason's father and his condition. Jason himself is devastated. When he tells Quinn, the two share a private moment of grief.

The worst, however, is when their two fathers are alone together to share the news. Steve is doing his best to downplay what is obviously a gut-wrenching thing for him to admit, especially to the man whose friendship and trust he's only just regained. They're alone together in Big Red, cold moonlight shining in on them, sitting close on the sofa.

"We'll have to give them one last good show to remember," says Mike, the cheer in his voice sounding forced.

Steve scoffs at that, with a grin that doesn't reach his eyes. "You'll have to remember it for the both of us."

Mike claps a comforting hand on Steve's thigh.

"I got you." He looks warmly at his longtime friend, his companion and performance partner, and Padmé can feel her throat tighten with tears. "I got you."

There's an indistinguishable wet sound from behind her, followed by a sniff. It takes Padmé too long to realize Obi-Wan's crying, his body shaking silently against hers, and she fumbles for the remote to hit pause. She can feel the heat of his tears against her cheek when she presses closer, turning back to see him, and it makes her ache to find him red-faced, his eyes bloodshot from soundless weeping.

She sits up at once, angling back so she can rest her palm on his face. His eyes dart down, fingers coming up to wipe the moisture away, clearly embarrassed at having been caught in such a vulnerable state.

"Oh, babe, what's the matter?" Padmé asks softly.

"What's the –?" Obi-Wan sucks in a deep, shuddering breath. "This is a Christmas movie, for goodness' sake!"

His bottom lip trembles, and Padmé brings a comforting hand to his shoulder as another soft sob leaves him. Of course she knows that Obi-Wan has a tendency to be softhearted, but she didn't know that the movie would have this sort of effect on him. If she’d known he would be this upset, she might not have suggested watching it together.

"Obi," she says, her voice low. "It's alright. Hey, come here."

It's clear that he's too upset to answer her question properly, so Padmé settles for pulling him close. Obi-Wan willingly cuddles into her hug, resting his head against the curve of her shoulder, and she strokes his back. His soft copper hair tickles her face, and she shushes him gently, rocking the two of them on their old worn out sofa.

"You're alright, love. I know, it was terrible…"

"In a few years he won't remember his family," Obi-Wan croaks out between shaking sobs. "His friends –"

"I know, baby. Let it all out."

A few seconds pass before he swallows, trying to still his breathing. All the while, Padmé continues running her hand up and down the soft material of his cardigan, intent on calming him down. Obi-Wan lets out a sigh, shifting a little in her grip. She realizes that he's going for the handkerchief in his pocket, and Padmé allows him to turn to the side, dabbing at his eyes and nose.

"God, I'm sorry," he mutters. "This is so silly."

"It's not –"

"It is," Obi-Wan insists, and Padmé's relieved to hear his words accompanied by a small laugh. "It really is, sweetheart, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

Padmé pauses for a beat, trying to find the right thing to say. "You don't need to be sorry," she says at last. "We don't choose what upsets us."

She cups his cheek, all beard bristle and tears, and Obi-Wan gives her a bashful smile.

"It's just," he begins, taking a deep breath, and Padmé knows that he's ready to talk about what had scared him. His nose is red and irritated-looking, nostrils wet. "That's terrifying to me. Losing the memory of your loved ones?"

Her heart twists in her chest. Padmé hadn't thought to put herself in the character's shoes. They're both still so young. Obi-Wan is only in his mid thirties, and Padmé isn't yet thirty herself. To think that the first thing he would think of was growing old and forgetting her…that hurts.

Obi-Wan blows his nose, trying to be quiet and polite because they're sitting so close together. It sounds as if there's a lot of congestion for him to get out between the bout of crying and the earlier dust. He finishes with a soft groan, sinuses creaking under the weight of it.

"You poor thing," Padmé sighs. "I'm sorry, Obi. I didn't realize the movie would touch on such heavy themes."

He blinks from behind the cover of his dark blue handkerchief, slowly lowering it to his lap.

"It's not your fault, please don't think that," says Obi-Wan. "Look at us, we're apologizing in circles." His voice is stuffy from all the suffering his nose has gone through.

That makes her smile. Leave it to Obi-Wan to try and cheer her up even when he's the one upset.

"Are we a mess?" Padmé teases.

"Only me," he answers, sitting up straight with another thick sounding sniffle. "Goodness, hold on, I'm going to try and fix this –"

As if he needs permission to tend to his ailing sinuses. How did she end up with someone so endlessly polite? It's a far cry from Anakin, whose manners are…questionable, at best. Padmé sits patiently with her husband as he blows, tracing little patterns with her fingers on his leg.

"That's better," says Obi-Wan once he's through, tucking the soiled handkerchief away. "Ugh."

"Are you alright?"

He wraps Padmé in a gentle hug, his lips brushing her cheek. "I am. Thank you."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She lets her eyes search his face, looking for any sign of discomfort about the topic. Padmé finds only quiet contemplation as he settles an arm around her shoulders, his expression familiar. That's another thing she values about him; it's unlike Obi-Wan to speak before thinking when the topic at hand matters.

"Yes," he answers at last. "I think that would be the wise thing to do."

Padmé nods.

On the screen in front of them, the paused movie shows the reunited rock duo about to take the stage, the concert scene aglow with lights around the waiting crowd.

Obi-Wan twines his fingers through her own, giving a tight squeeze. "I suppose my reaction was based on the fact that…that this is a worry I've entertained before."

He takes a steadying breath, sniffling, and Padmé leans into his shoulder. Offering her wordless support.

"Which I know is silly…" he continues. "That's not – not something we should have to worry about for a long time. But –"

And here Obi-Wan looks up, stricken, meeting Padmé's deep brown eyes with his blue. "I don't ever want to live in a world where I don't love you. Where I can't remember what that feels like."

That does it. Now Padmé's eyes are welling up with tears, spilling over, and she reaches for the last sugar cookie as a means of emotional support. She can tell that Obi-Wan finds that funny, despite the gravity of the situation, and hands him the other half. He takes it without a word, sinking his teeth in.

"Why do you always say the sweetest things?" She manages, blotting her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. "I love you so much."

She wants to say more, to put into words all the bright, aching truth of how deeply this man makes her feel. But her mouth couldn't possibly keep up with her heart. I love you only scratches the surface of all the goodness they share.

"I love you too," he says softly.

Obi-Wan brings a hand up to brush away her tears, the pad of his thumb against her cheek.

"Even the thought of losing you is devastating. In any way. Even if I'm right beside you."

"Oh, Obi-Wan." Her voice is a whisper. "I don't want to lose you, either. Not when I never thought I could find someone like you. I never thought –" her voice hitches on a laughing sob " – not when you've made me so happy."

She steels herself. "If either one of us – if something like that were to happen." Her tone wavers. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm not moving a damn inch from you. Even if that means you think of me as some annoying old woman who won't leave your house, I'm not going to stop trying to help you remember."

Obi-Wan laughs, and the sound encourages her. "Not all are so lucky to have so stubborn a partner."

"That's right."

He hums, grinning. "I quite like the idea of us growing old."

"Good," Padmé smirks. "Because that's exactly what we're going to do."

"I can see it," he continues. "You and I, sitting here forty years from now. Crying over some other Hallmark film. If they're even still called films by then."

They spend a moment giggling over what they think movies will have evolved into by the time they're old and grey, and by the time Obi-Wan makes some ridiculous suggestion about beaming the projections into their brains by way of their ear canals, both of them have forgotten the interlude of sorrow.

"Do you want to finish?" Padmé reaches for the remote.

Obi-Wan gives her a fond look. "Sure."

Cautiously, they go into the final portion of their show. Padmé settles once more into the space against Obi-Wan's body – the warm place that feels like it was meant for her – and Obi-Wan puts his arm around her with a sound of contentment.

Thankfully, it seems that the rest of what they have to watch all boils down to a happy ending for the main character. The two fathers, Mike and Steve, reunite for their final concert. Jason and Quinn watch from the crowd, along with the adoring town. Padmé catches Obi-Wan tearing up again when it's revealed that Mike wrote out some lyrics for Steve to read, so that he could follow along while they played.

"You're so soft," she says, though the gesture really touches her heart as well.

"Be quiet," comes his reply, muffled behind one very moist handkerchief.

That must be uncomfortable to use by now, Padmé thinks. Remembering that he keeps more in the small drawer of the coffee table – the poor man really does have a sensitive nose – she leans forward and pulls a clean handkerchief free, sliding the wooden drawer closed with a click.

Obi-Wan brightens as she hands it back to him. This one is patterned with the lightest embroidered glimmering stars, the fabric such a deep blue that it's almost black.

"Oh, thank you, darling," he purrs. "You're the sweetest."

They turn their attention back to the last minutes of the movie – or they try.

Between Obi-Wan's light sniffling against the shell of her ear and the comfortable warmth of his body pressed into hers, Padmé doesn't have much focus left to devote to what's happening on the screen. Now that they've successfully achieved everything on their little holiday to-do list, Padmé can let herself let go and want him.

Every little moment over the course of the day comes back to her in bright color, as if her memory wants to show off how long she’s been thinking about this.

Obi-Wan’s lips on the back of her neck as she makes the sugar cookies. The low, sultry dip of his voice as she halfheartedly reminds him what they should be doing. His strong hands on her waist as he’d lifted her to place the star on their tree, reminding Padmé quite clearly of other certain occasions he’d hoisted her up. Much more private places.

It’s all too much for her to keep to herself anymore. He’s her husband, this is their home, and she’ll be damned if she stays quiet about what she wants when he’s right behind her. Instead, Padmé arches back surreptitiously, keeping her eyes forward on the screen. She catches the slightest intake of breath in her ear, and Obi-Wan’s fingers tighten on her waist.

“What’re you doing?” His voice is quite breathless, and she can feel him stirring with interest against her rear.

“Getting comfortable,” says Padmé.

She cuddles in further, and the reaction from him is a low groan of need. There’s no mistaking it; he’s completely hard, a physical companion to the ache that she’s been harboring all day.

“Really.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t seem to believe her. When he motions for Padmé to turn around, to face him, she’s pink-faced with a blush. Something about knowing that she’s been caught in her game makes it difficult to meet his amused, gentle gaze, though she eventually manages. So many long, indulgent, intimate moments have started this way. If she’s lucky, this just might become one of them.

“No, not really,” she admits, curled now against his chest.

Padmé traces her fingers up and down the sensitive spot between his pectorals. He watches her hand move as if hypnotized, each shaky breath warm in the sparse distance between them. Oh, she has him right where she wants him.

“That’s what I thought,” Obi-Wan muses, dipping down to brush his lips against hers.

He grins, hitching his leg over her hip until they’re twined together so tight she’s unsure where one of them starts and the other begins. She doesn’t want to know. Something pulses deep in her body, all thrill and anticipation, the start of the chase. And for once, Padmé is happy to be caught. Neither of them feel the need to say anything else. Their mouths touch once more, and there’s nothing delicate or hesitant about the way Padmé rushes against him.

It’s instantaneous, the way they agree that this is going to happen, without ever having to make a sound. Their couch isn’t exactly the roomiest place for this sort of thing, but that’s alright. Padmé wants him as close as she can get him. She drinks in every soft sound of pleasure that escapes his mouth, every little sniff as he pauses to breathe, her mind insistent that she memorize this. Obi-Wan tastes like sugar cookies as he slips his tongue against her bottom lip, and Padmé fumbles to get her hands under his sweater. They are entirely too clothed for this situation.

Obi-Wan seems to feel the same. She can feel his fingertips glide up to the soft cups of her bra as the credits play behind her. It’s been a while since they’ve done this right here on the couch, but she can’t say that she minds. Not if Obi-Wan's growing enthusiasm is anything to go by.

"Bedroom," he pants eventually. “What I’d like to do to you won’t be feasibly safe on this couch.”

Padmé giggles, getting to her feet. “Well, I look forward to that.”

They get up to leave together, each thrumming with excitement. She’s certain that Obi-Wan would fly to the bedroom if he could. Before they get to the hallway, however, something on the couch catches her eye. It’s Obi-Wan’s handkerchief, and a thought occurs to her.

“You’d better bring this,” says Padmé, picking it up. “Just in case.”

It’s not unusual for his nose to run if they get overly physical, and Obi-Wan blushes as he takes the square of fabric from her, aware of what she means.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he says, giving her a heated look. “I’m certain I will.”

[chloelucia13]

Chapter 14: Suzie, Do you Copy?

Pairing: none for the moment (currently Jonathan Byers x (kinda) Platonic!Henderson!reader)

Prompt:  You always thought Hawkins was the most boring town of all, stuck in a vacuum void of excitement and entertainment. Well, it seems that way until the world decided to flip upside down, literally.

Chapter Summary: Dustin’s return to Hawkins had overjoyed you, but other than that, there was no change to the normal routine of your summer. At least, that’s what you thought.

Warnings: Mostly fluff, spoilers (obvi), language, mentions of violence, injuries, pretty chill tbh

Word Count: 2764

A/N: AHHHH, I’m back finally! I’m so sorry I took so long to update this story! Hopefully I’ll be able to get back onto this series and update it regularly like I used to, but I can’t make any promises. For the time being, I hope you enjoy and make sure to keep an eye out for any updates! As always, my taglist and ask box is open! 

Tags: @just-my-fandom​, @nightbu-g​

You couldn’t recall a time you had woken up earlier than nine a.m. in the past month.

In all honesty, you had considered just sleeping in until the very last minute scramble to get dressed, rush out the door, and get back before Dustin got home.

Unfortunately that plan could not be executed as your mother woke you up, knowing you well enough that she could predict your plans.

And that was why you were at the mall at 10 a.m., your gaze focused on the floor as you made the trek over to Scoops Ahoy. Surprisingly, there was a small line in the shop, considering it wasn’t even lunchtime yet.

As you finally stood at the counter and lifted your head, Steve visibly relaxed, his “customer service” persona fading. “Oh thank god, it’s just you,” he sighed, leaning against the counter.

“Just little ol’ me,” you hummed, absentmindedly rubbing at your eye. “God, has the day already gone to shit for you, Steve?”

“Well, he’s already struck out twice if that’s any indication,” Robin piped up, peeking through the window that peered into the back area.

“Twice? Didn’t you guys open just an hour ago?” 

“Don’t rub it in,” Steve huffed, a frown sinking onto his features.

“Fine, fine.”

You and Steve had grown close in the past six months, sharing a special bond that you honestly needed. Though you couldn’t decide if the bond grew from him literally saving your life, or from your significant others (well, for Steve at least) dating each other rather than you two. Both, probably.

“Are you here to order something or just to bully me?” he spoke finally, pulling his ice cream scooper from his makeshift-holster. 

“Right, right. Just a pint of cookie dough and a pint of strawberry,” you instructed, pulling a ten out of your pocket.

He nodded and began scooping the two pints of ice cream. “Who’s the cookie dough for?”

“Dustin.”

He looked up at you, his brows furrowed in confusion. “He’s coming back today?”

“Yeah!”

He sealed the lid of the cookie dough pint. “No one tells me anything!”

You rolled your eyes. “Steve, I told you this two days ago.”

You heard Robin let out a laugh in the back room and Steve pressed his lips into a line. “Do you want ice cream or not?!”

You laughed. “Come on, you know you’d never deprive your two favorite people of ice cream.”

He rolled his eyes and finished up the second pint, sliding both of them over to you as you handed him the $10 bill. “Do you work today?”

“Unfortunately. I’m just hoping I’ll be home before dark tonight because they’ve been fucking keeping me for hours after closing.”

“Doesn’t the pool close at like five?”

“Yup,” you huffed, popping the ‘p.’ “And, to top it all off, I’m stuck with Heather  and Billy today.”

The two of you cringed simultaneously. “Can’t say I’d rather be you.”

“Thanks for the support.” You took the change from Steve and stuffed it into your pocket before cradling both pints of ice cream in your arms. “Well, I gotta drop these off at home and then sit in the sun for a few miserable hours. I’ll call you when I get home.”

***

Your soul nearly left your body when a chorus of screams erupted in the kitchen as soon as you stepped in the front door. They fell silent a moment later, though, and a voice echoed out, “Oh, it’s just you.”

With a hand clutched over your chest, you rolled your eyes. “Sorry to disappoint you guys with my presence, but can we avoid killing me the next time you see me?” you huffed, still struggling to take in a proper breath.

We thought you were Dustin,” Lucas explained, a party blower between his teeth.

“Yeah, I figured.” You brushed past the group and put the ice cream in the freezer. “Can someone make sure that Dustin gets his ice cream? I won’t be able to see him until later tonight.”

“I can,” Will spoke up, raising his hand in the air.

“Finally, someone I can count on.” You grabbed the drawstring bag that held all of your items and slung it over your shoulder. “How’s Jonathan enjoying his job at the newspaper?”

There was a small silence. “You haven’t talked to him about it?” Mike spoke up, and Max swatted his arm.

You shook your head, the healing scratch on your eye beginning to burn slightly. “No, not yet. We’ve, uh... We’ve both been too busy. We haven’t talked in a couple of weeks.” More like a month.

There was another silence before Will spoke. “He likes it. He has the dark room all to himself,” he explained, his voice gentle and hesitant.

“Good. That’s good. Tell him I said hi, or something.” You cleared your throat before turning to the group and giving them a smile. “I gotta head to work. You guys have fun, okay?”

***

God, you felt like vomiting.

Everything seemed to be going wrong today, like you forgetting to bring your sunscreen and sunglasses, Billy and Heather’s constant pestering and gossiping, Billy ignoring his job so he could flirt with Mrs. Wheeler, Mrs. Wheeler completely ignoring you so she could flirt with Billy, the dozens of kids that had coined multiple nicknames for you and your scar, and the 101 degree temperature that was unrelenting.

Luckily, though, the day was close to coming to an end. Most of the crowd had thinned, excluding a couple of kids who spent the whole day there anyways and adults who insisted on lingering until they absolutely had to leave. 

The shriek of a whistle startled you from your thoughts, your head slipping from your hand and making you lurch forward slightly. A group of muffled cackles sounded to your right, and you rolled your eyes. “Can I help you, or are you just here to make my life a living hell,” you grumbled, snapping your gaze over to Billy and Heather.

“Well, I was gonna ask if you wanted a water, but I guess not,” Heather huffed, stubbornly crossing her arms over your chest.

You gave her a doubtful glance. “Were you really?”

She laughed. “No. Now get up, It’s my turn on deck.”

With a huff you stepped down the ladder and tucked your book and raft under your arm. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Billy step closer. “Billy, if you push me in the pool you’re gonna wake up with no fucking mullet tomorrow.”

The pair just laughed behind you condescendingly, and you stomped away with a scowl etched on your face.

Ever since the... altercation that occurred months ago, Billy had kept his distance from you. It was a relief, knowing that he wouldn’t test your limits for the sake of his own health. But that didn’t stop him from sprinkling in some teasing every single time he spoke to you.

The hot concrete stung the soles of your feet, and you picked up your pace so you could get to the office before your feet blistered.

“Hey, no running!”  You froze at the voice, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Slowly, you turned on your heel to face the source. 

Jonathan stood behind the fence, his hands in his pockets and a shy smile on his face.

“Jonathan?” you whispered, tilting your head slightly as if you were a dog. 

“Hey Y/N,” he hummed, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot.

A small smile settled on your face and you walked over to the fence, a silent sigh of relief leaving your lips when your feet settled on the grass that bordered the fence. “Hey! W-What are you doing here? I thought you got out the same time that I did?”

“I do, I just uh... I wanted to go on a walk.”

You nodded. “Oh, okay.”

“And I uh, I wanted to see you. Just see how you were doing, I mean.”

You let out a small chuckle, hooking your fingers through one of the chain links in the fence. “I’m doing good. I mean, as good as I can be sitting in the heat for five hours straight with no sunglasses. How have you been?”

“I-I’m good. Isn’t Dustin back in town?”

“He is, he just got back today. I haven’t seen him yet, though. How’s your job at the paper going?”

“It’s good, really good. I’m enjoying it a lot.”

“That’s good to hear.”

The two of you stood silently, avoiding each other’s gaze except for the spare glances you’d risk. 

“I should get going,” Jonathan spoke finally, a hint of reluctance in his voice. 

“Right, yeah,” you hummed, clearing your throat. “It was good to see you, Johnny.”

“You too.” His mouth opened as if he wanted to say more, but he decided against it, giving you an awkward wave before walking away.

You lingered there for a moment, an all-too-familiar ache in your chest as you watched him walk away from you.

***

After rinsing off, getting changed, and making a final check of the area, you were finally off for the night. You could feel your shoulders nearly weighing your entire body down and your eyelids were extremely close to falling shut at any moment. Silently, you made the trek through the parking lot and over to your car. 

You hopped in the driver’s seat and fished your key out of your bag before putting it in the ignition and twisting.

And twisting again.

And one more time.

Shit.

You slammed your hands against the wheel and let out a groan, throwing your head back against the headrest. “Of course. Of fucking course,” you grumbled.

Then you began to weigh your options. The first idea that came to your mind was walking home, but you quickly decided against it as you were too exhausted and it was too far. 

Your next idea was to walk over to The Hawkins Post and see if you could catch a ride with Jonathan. But you knew that wherever Jonathan was, Nancy would also be. For a moment, you contemplated swallowing your embarrassment and fear and just do it, but again, you decided against that option.

Then you thought about using the phone in the office to call Steve, but you had no idea if he was even home.

And after running through all of the ideas in your mind, you last ditch plan walked past your peripheral.

You shoved all of your disgust down and hopped out of your car, rushing to try and catch up.

“Billy!” you shouted, trying to stuff your keys back in your bag as you jogged over to him.

He stopped and turned to look at you, part-confusion and part-annoyance wrinkling his features. “What?” he huffed.

“Can you, um...” You shifted awkwardly, the reality of the moment catching up to you. “Would you mind giving me a ride home? My car won’t start.”

He rolled his eyes, fishing a pack of cigarettes out from his leather jacket. “Y’know, any other night I’d love to, but I’ve actually got plans tonight. Call a tow truck or something.”

“Billy, please.” Your shoulders slumped. “I don’t live that far from you.”

“Who said I was going home?” 

Your jaw tightened and you pulled your bag higher up on your shoulder. “I’ll pay you $20. Just please.”

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend to do it? I saw you talking to him earlier.”

“He’s not my boyfriend! Goddammit-” You cut yourself off, taking a deep breath and scrubbing a hand over your face. “$50.”

He stood there a moment, placing a cigarette between his teeth as he silently debated it. “Fine. But you’re paying me upfront.”

You bit your tongue and refrained from snapping at him, instead pulling your wallet from your bag and handing him a $50 bill. He snatched it from your fingers and shoved it in his back pocket before nodding his head over to his car and heading that way. 

Though the anxiety from asking him was gone, it was replaced with the anxiety of being in a vehicle with a man who very clearly hated your guts. Your brain was nagging you to just walk home, but you pushed the annoying warnings away and got in the passenger seat.

Billy had exited the parking lot before you even had a chance to put on your seatbelt, the engine roaring as he tore down the empty streets. The ride was silent other than that annoying engine, his godawful music, and your heart racing so loudly and harshly that you felt as if you were about to have a heart attack.

Whether it was your panic or your swarming thoughts, you had zoned out for the first few minutes of the ride. When you finally came to, you realized that you were nowhere near your house. “Did you take a wrong turn?” you mumbled, brows furrowing confusedly.

He scoffed, pulling his lower lip between his teeth. “No, I have an errand to run,” he explained as if you were stupid, as if you were already aware of his plans.

Oh my god, he’s gonna kill me.

You gulped, gripping onto your drawstring bag. “What errand?”

“Well, I had already made plans with Karen before you decided to ask for my help, so you’re tagging along.”

Your jaw dropped and you turned in your seat to face him. “You’re making me sit in the car while you hook up with Mrs. Wheeler? You said you were gonna take me home!”

“I did, but I didn’t specify when.” He was grinning from ear to ear, and you had to move your hands under your thighs so you didn’t smack that look off of his face.

“You motherfucker. Literally.”

He rolled his eyes. “Shut up and get in the back seat. I don't want her seeing you.”

It was your turn to scoff. “Excuse me?” 

“I said-”

His words were cut off by a large object hitting the windshield, making both of you jump and causing him to lose control of the vehicle. The car spun off of the road and collided into a tree on your side, making Billy’s head collide into his door and crushing your door into your body.

A slew of curses and grunts fell from your mouth as you worked your way out of the seat, feeling your ribs ache with each breath as you finally got out from between the door and the center console. You sat down on the center console and gripped onto the back of the seat for balance.

“Oh, no,” Billy grumbled from beside you, eyes wide as he took in the damage. The stereo still spat out a distorted and garbled sound that resembled the music that were playing earlier as Billy tried to restart the car, to no avail. “Piece of shit.”

You finally glanced over at him. “You’re bleeding,” you wheezed out, watching the blood drip down his forehead and into his eye.

He reached up and touched the wound, pulling away and glancing down at his fingers with disdain. “Shit.” He slammed his hand against the steering wheel before shoving his door open and crawling out. You followed behind him, collapsing to the ground beside his feet. You gripped onto his arm and heaved yourself up.

Billy left your side to attempt to pry the passenger door open, only for a spew of expletives to fall from his mouth. “Yeah, I’m good, thanks for asking,” you huffed, leaning against the car and clutching your right side as he stomped past you and over to the front of the car.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, leaning close to the windshield and gliding his finger along the spiderwebbed glass. “What the hell?”

A strange ooze clung to his finger, stretching between his hand and the windshield with a strong elasticity. “Fuck.”

A rustling in the shrubs near the building you stood by attracted both of your attention, your heart leaping to your throat.

“Who’s there!” Billy shouted, his body standing straight up.

“I don’t think it’s a who,” you grumbled, reaching for your pocket knife in your back pocket.  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

As you opened your mouth to explain, Billy fell to the ground and was lugged away by a snaking vine. You screamed, but before you could move onto the car and off of the ground, a similar vine wrapped around your legs and dragged you through the dirt

[khaleesiofalicante]

Hiiii daniiii

My friend ditched me so I’m getting my ears pierced tmrw 😔

Buttt a group of us are doing these challenges where you get points and then whoever has the most points gets a free meal and it’s actually kind of fun 😂

AND OH OH OH OH OH

THEON BLOODY GREYJOY HAD ME GOING FOR A SECOND THERE AHWOEOEKEKS

Honestly what even in the helliest of hells was he thinking?!?!? Dudes a maniac he’s gotta realise that bro that ain’t smart

Ngl tho I’m still confused cos it fit in with the green dream

This is how I covertly talked abt this with my dad

Theon bomped the small S’s but then he didn’t bomp then he bomped the mill instead

😂😂 my brother wants to watch it one day sooo no spoilers

Oh also I predicted Sansa’s first period. The first clue was the crying, then I looked back and it said something abt a tummy pain and I’m like yep girl just u wait 😂

And the last chapter I read was that crazy one that starts out not too bad but then you’re at the end and this has turned into a mega ship battle like waaaaa

Gendry is roberts right? He’s the boy ned visited?

Alsoooo I’m up to date with tlnd now and I’m very much enjoying this Rafael/max content and yeeeees the Selena thing had me going my gosh

Went to Waterstones today and managed not to buy a book! Yay me! Then I got given a student plus card so that’s always fun

Funny Donut story: every Wednesday me and my friend go to Dunkin Donuts (it’s in the Uk now) and they’re proper sized, decent topping, filling, dough, for like £1.85 rihjt

Then you go to Morrisons, and there’s Krispy Kreme donuts, and they’re tiny and sweaty and not that nice, for like £2:50

Like brooo who’s gonna get one of those ugly things when they can go get actually decent donuts for like a quarter of the price or smth?!?

I’m so near to the end of a clash of kings I’m so excited

Idk if I said this earlier but I’ll say it again, every time o think abt rereading lord of the rings I wanna cry it is EMOTIONAL 😭

Sorry for a long one today, I’ll read tlnd now and munch my salt and pepper chips - maube you’ll get a reaction ask 🤭

❤��� love ya dani ur the best, sending you Norman the pigeon as a present

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Your friend group is VERY COOL.

AHH THEON. I can't with him! And yes Gendry is Robert's illegitimate son.

Max/Rafe supremacy only. Also how you go to a bookshop and not buy books? Teach me your ways!

Thank you for the random donut story. You are the cutest ever,

Yas to almost finishing CoK. Also, you watched the ToLTR movies right? What did you think of the casting? Any faves?

Hope you have a great week, love.

Normal looks very chill. I love your boots btw!

[yeekshees]

Chilling tales of Sabrina s4 thoughts

(spoilers)

Bro legit ambrose has the only braincell

Cannot believe they did that to ZELDA who WROTE THSI

I ALREADY MISS MAMBO MARIE

yeha fuck father blackwood

Fuck him

Father blackwood? More like father shit fuck that guy

Also lucifer?????? Wtf even is a false daughter you're tripping

And caliban???? Btich?????? Dough penis cookie man???? Can't believe he cut off his schlong and SHOWED IT to Sabrina in a fancy fancy box going "yeah babe look I love you haha DOUGH PENIS"

I actually really liked this season

Love how they did multiple x rays this season of Sabrina and saw not only a squid in her body but also the void

"we're endgame" pls stfu Riverdale writers I'm going to eat my fist

Wish I had a man like nick but without the betrayal

I honestly don't know why but Harvey has consistently annoyed me each season worse and worse

I am SO in love with the idea that the void just has THE VOID in all caps can you imagine dying and the first thing you see when you wake up is THE VOID

Yo fuck cookie dough penis begone man backstabbing bitrch

Liliths life is just not working rn dude

Sabrina rlly just like yeeted a stone at blackwood good for her

[cross-u-out]

So the third season of inanimate insanity (a.k.a. Inanimate Insanity Invitational) came out about an hour and a half ago.

so I would like to take the time to rank the characters.

(Disclaimer: this is obvious but MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD! If you haven’t seen the episode yet and you don’t want to know who’s in the season until you watch it for yourself, DO NOT READ THIS POST.)

now without further ado, let’s get into this ranking

18. Box

I’m sorry I don’t have the sense of humor you guys apparently have I can’t stand this man. We couldve had trophy, soap, cherries, tissues, pickle, dough, hell, I would’ve even taken pepper over him. You guys are weird.

17. Silver Spoon

like he’s fine, I guess. I really have no idea what this guy wants.

16. Goo

i feel like this guy has potential to be a favorite of mine, he seems weird and I like weird contestants. But right now he’s just meh.

15. Lifering

He was pretty funny in seas the day (r.i.p. Grilled Cheese), but he was pretty standard cheesy (ha) life guard here.

14. OJ

he was literally nowhere this episode I can’t remember what he did tbh other than basically telling balloon that he wouldn’t be there if he was the one picking. Tell you what though I do feel his hotel pain. Also the twirl was 19/10

13. Nickel

you know what AT LEAST HES TRYING.

12. Paintbrush

Re: OJ. I liked paintbrush a little more than OJ this episode though when they were on screen. So that’s why PB is higher.

11. Fan

re: paintbrush

10. Test Tube

I wish she interacted with cabby and yin-yang more. Those were some of the best parts of the episode IMO.

9. Balloon

he’s literal only this high because of the sandwich line. That was iconic.

8. Cabby

She seem interesting enough. I especially like the interactions with Test Tube.

7. Clover

she’s cute, she’s fun. i wonder how her luck would play out in future episodes.

6. Candle

i feel like she can do magic and if she can I would love to see it in future episodes. Also I like chill characters.

5. Blueberry

HE DESERVES SO MUCH BETTER. I'm a sucker for overly apathetic contestants, also he called out Box. Can’t believe he got out first (ok well I can but still.)

4. Yin-Yang

i just want them to start arguing again it was really entertaining.

3. Bow

holy god she’s back from the dead. Hey queen. How was coming back to life?

and number 1 is surprisingly a tie between.....

2/1. The Floor & Tea Kettle

for The Floor: this guy has so much potential and power it’s unreal. Can he just open the earth up? can he drown? So many questions! If he gets robbed I swear.

For Tea Kettle: I LOVE HER I LOVE HER I LOVE HER I LOVE HER I LOVE HER I LOVE HER I LOVE I LOVE HER I LOVE HER I LOVE HER SO MUCH I DONT KNOW WHY BUT I LOVE HER.

So this was my ranking. Did you like it did you not like it? Anyways I’m so excited for where this season takes us, really. Anyways bye.

[briarlovesclara]

L’manberg

content warning: this fic/commentary/headcanon contains mentions/implications of s3lf harm, d3ath, and torture, as well as spoilers for recent Dream SMP lore (May 19th 2021 and before). All relationships portrayed below are in roleplay and are strictly platonic.

L’manberg

Wilbur used to swing his legs over the walls of his nation, wind snapping his hat off his head at any opportunity. He would feel a chill run through him, not just from the morning cold, but from the thrill of having his own place that he could run, the excitement of knowing the air he breathed, he won. Now Wilbur wonders at the feel of the wind, holding his coat closer to him, the sound of the gusts always reminding him of the whooshing of train tracks, every rock tumbling from his travels the rattling of the wheels on steel. 

Tommy loved to watch the potions bubbling on the stands while Wilbur made them, even though he was perfectly able to make them himself. He laughed as Wilbur threw random things in, cackling as he threw up his hands in defeat at the messes he’d made. As he smelled the vapors coming from the most recent experiment, he knew that he was home. Now Tommy brews obsessively, always making sure that he has enough regen potions to bring him back from near death ten times over. He has to restock them constantly, as well as the food he spends hours slaving over, since he uses them for the slightest damage.

Tubbo would often be caught in the flower fields, running and laughing, tripping often because his eyes were always on the sky. Screaming and laughing, he would stay out until Wilbur dragged him back for dinner, chasing the bees and building tree houses with Tommy. Even when he’d fall out or get stung, he felt safe. Now Tubbo wraps himself in multiple layers, pushing against the cold winds only to get somewhere. He spends hours perfecting nuclear weaponry, just in case conflict will come to surround him as it had for so long. 

Eret would often find their feelings betraying them. He knew what he had to do, but when Fundy asked for a story or Tubbo showed him him and Tommy’s new ‘secret base’, he felt his heart melt slightly. She knew it was too late to go back, but late night talks with Wilbur became something they treasured immensely. She felt happy there, but underneath it all, he felt dirty. Now Eret sits on their throne for hours at a time, staring at her hands as she fiddles with the rings on them. He’ll throw his head back a little harder than necessary to the gold chair backing, hearing not the sound of metal on metal from her crown, but the dying cries of an old friend, and the scream of a father losing her child.

Fundy never knew anything different than the walls around him. Born the son of the great leader Wilbur, he was pampered with the luxury of safety in his early years. It got annoying when Wilbur would treat him like a child, or Tommy and Tubbo were put on the front lines despite being younger, but he treasured the golden memories he had. Running into Eret’s bed after a nightmare, being sung to sleep by his father; he felt loved. Now Fundy lives alone, his house large and empty. When he tries to move past his family, something always comes back to smack him down again. When he wakes up after nightmares, he is alone.

Jack walked in in a time of political glory and excitement. Swept up quickly, he loved running his hands over his new uniform, proudly laughing as he walked down the Prime Path with other supporters of POG2020. Pride shone through his every movement as he looked at his friends, those people who had welcomed him and encouraged him to be himself. Looking at the weak opposition, he felt confident. Now Jack sulks alone at his hotel, looking at the borrowed walls with bitterness, mulling over half-formed apologies, thinking about the new Wilbur and what he might mean. He flips a coin when he gets nervous, its shine comforting him that he is secure, that he is safe in his position. He cleans the empty rooms and stands on the roof, looking out at the vines that creep their way around his home, and when he walks in public, he creeps in largely the same way. He ignores the blood on Quackity’s clothes, the way his business partner looks at the prison constantly. At the end of the day he retires to his suite, the bare room mocking him with the beauty of the sunset. 

Niki spent hours sewing the flag for L’manberg. Giddy and proud, when she showed it to Wilbur he picked her up and spun her until they both fell over from dizziness. She loved making treats whenever someone was sad, always making an ‘extra’ that she would slip to Eret when her friends weren’t watching. She always had some sort of frosting on her, either on her clothes or her hair or simply her hands. When Wilbur would get stressed, she would bury her face in his shoulder and hug him for minutes on end, or sit leaning against him while he sang her songs and strummed lightly on his guitar. To the people around her, she was important. Now Niki kneads dough slowly, having long stopped noticing the tears falling in, humming Wilbur’s old songs to herself. Often, she takes a break to scream and cry in a corner, tugging at her hair to ground herself until she can move without feeling like she’s fracturing at every seam possible. When she’s not baking, she’s either holding Wilbur’s old coat and screaming or making the occasional cold trip to the Syndicate. She tries to act normal in these sessions, but cannot keep her eyes off of Phil’s hands for hours on end.

[wannabesewcrafty]

Barbecue

Notes: Part 7. Tensions come to a head at Jay’s barbecue. Jay and Sydney decide to reveal their secrets to each other. (I might have one more part left for this series to wrap it up.) Spoilers for Seasons 2-3 of “Kingdom” and 4.18 and 4.20 for “NCIS: New Orleans.”

Content warnings: Language, fighting/violence; alcohol, drug use, and rape mention; discussion of character deaths and associated graphic imagery. Implied sexual situation between adults.

Ryan texted Jay on Sunday morning.

Need me to come over early and help you out, buddy?

Thanks, but I got it. Sydney’s coming over later anyway. She has to use the stove.

That gave Ryan pause. The bartender had told him she wouldn’t stop seeing Jay on Ryan’s account, but Wheeler hadn’t thought that Jay would invite her to his barbecue.

Wishful thinking, he supposed. Before he could text some lame reply, Jay sent him another message.

She told me about your little visit by the way.

Ryan sucked in a breath. Are you mad?

I think I get why you did it. But you could have said something to me.

Sorry, man. Are we cool?

It was a few minutes before Jay replied. Yeah. I’ll see you later.

Yeah. See you.

Ryan set his phone down and drummed his fingers against his knee, thinking about what to do next.

***

“This one’s a test,” Sydney proclaimed two hours later, pulling out a pillow of fried dough from the pot of oil on Jay’s stove.

She drained it on a plate covered with paper towels and then sprinkled a generous amount of powdered sugar on top.

“You trying to kill someone, Syd?” Jay asked, watching the sugar form a small cloud in the air before it settled.

“Just try it. But careful, it’s hot.”

He finished seasoning the steaks and chicken he had bought and then washed his hands and took a small bite of the beignet she had made.

“That’s good!” he exclaimed, nodding. “Sort of like a doughnut.”

Sydney took a bite herself and hummed, looking doubtfully at the fried dough. “I think they still taste better at the Cafe,” she said after she had swallowed.

“Well, then I’ll eat them,” Jay said with a shrug.

The timer on her phone beeped. “Oh, the marinade’s ready,” she said.

He watched as she crossed to his refrigerator and pulled out a bowl of marinade for the chicken. It was like she had been there forever, and he shook his head at how easy and familiar it felt.

“So, my friend Mac is coming,” he began, taking the marinade from her and beginning to put the chicken into it. “He might ask you to partake. If you say no, he’ll back off, but I thought you should know.”

“Thanks. Forewarned is forearmed, right?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, spooning the marinade over the meat to fully coat it..

“So, yesterday, you were saying you had dinner with your mom. What’s she like? What does she do?”

“She’s… artistic .A free spirit, like yours truly.” Jay said with a smirk. “What she does…she works with girls who need some looking after. It’s best if we don’t ask too many questions.”

“We? As in ‘you and me?’” she teased as she stood next to him in the small kitchen.

“As in me and my dad, and yeah, you, I guess, one day…I mean, who knows?” He scratched the side of his neck, feeling his cheeks grow warm.

She grinned, deciding to let him be. “You fill your first journal yet?” She took the freshly marinated chicken and put it back in the refrigerator to chill.

“Just about. Been writing about good things lately.”

“Good. That’s good. Me too,” she said as she washed her hands at the sink.

The softness in her tone made his normally buoyant attitude return, and he stepped behind her to encircle his arms around her waist. He rested his cheek against her temple and spoke lowly into her ear. “Yeah? Well, I hope we can do some good things together soon. Some fantastic things, you know? Like mind-blowing, can’t-walk-straight, it-was-so-good-kind of things.”

She turned her head to the side slightly, finding his eyes with her own.

“Really? Well, I could stay after the barbecue, help you clean up, have some alone time…”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

He was about to brush his lips against hers when the sound of someone knocking on the screen door outside made them pull apart.

“It’s Mac,” Jay informed her, silently cursing his friend’s timing. He sighed in disappointment, and then went to play the part of host. This was his party, after all.

***

Mac, it turned out, had brought some women friends, and he was a little embarrassed when he discovered Sydney’s presence and that she was involved with Jay. After that initial awkwardness, and making it crystal clear that she wouldn’t tolerate his drug peddling, she found a connection with him after learning he was a nurse. She had only had field medical training as a Green Beret, but she remembered enough terms to impress him.

“And you’re with Jay?” he asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “You seem too smart to do something so stupid.” He spoke lightly, and she laughed at the joke it was meant to be, but she saw a shadow cross Jay’s face before Ryan’s arrival lightened it again.

“I brought beer,” Wheeler said, holding up a six-pack. He clasped hands with Mac and nodded cordially at Sydney before he was almost mobbed by the other women at the barbecue.

Sydney walked back to where Jay was preparing the grill, and she chuckled at the starstruck look on some of the women’s faces.

“You’d think he was God or something.”

Jay followed her gaze. “You’re not impressed?”

“Nah. I knew a lot of guys like him in the military. Determined to get their way.”

“Hey, Ryan and I texted this morning. He apologized.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s let it go.”

Kulina didn’t answer as he began putting the steaks on the grill, but a frown had settled on his features.

Sydney decided to rejoin Mac, and Ryan pulled himself away from his admirers to go talk to Jay.

“Hey, man. You look upset. Trouble in paradise?” he whispered.

Jay set his tongs down on the grill with more force than was necessary, startling his friend. “Now, see, why do you gotta say that, man? Why can’t you just…let me and Sydney happen? I never gave you shit when it came to Lisa!”

“Look, Jay, it’s just…how much do you know about her? I mean, it seems like you barely know her. And does she know about your life? Have you told her about—?”

“That doesn’t fucking matter right now! She makes me happy, okay? This is supposed to be fun. Everyone’s supposed to be having a fine fuckin’ time, Ryan, okay?”

“Yeah, I just…”

“Hey,” Sydney called, interrupting him. “Maybe you’d better leave, Ryan.”

He shot her a glare at the suggestion. “Leave? I just got here!”

“Well, it seems like you’re upsetting our host.”

“I’m just telling him some things he needs to hear. And as a fellow guest, I don’t think you have the right to tell me to leave.”

“Stop it, both of you,” Jay said, his voice slightly breathless from the agony he felt at seeing his girlfriend and his best friend antagonize each other.

Sydney, however, was stubborn. I saw guys like you back in basic,” she said to Ryan. “You come a dime a dozen, and we always ended up settling things one way.” She took a fighting stance, bending her knees to drop into a slight crouch. “Let’s go.”

“Whoa, hang on a sec, guys…” Mac began, but the others ignored him.

For Ryan, Sydney’s goading was like a bell beginning a fight round. It was all the encouragement he needed. Wheeler charged, his momentum and weight knocking Halliday backwards, over a table, and onto the dry soil of Jay’s yard.

“Ryan!” various voices clamored in unison, mixed with gasps of shock and fear.

With the MMA fighter’s weight pinning her down on her back, Sydney lashed out with her right arm, her hand scrabbling for a weapon. Her fingers closed around the handle of a fallen utensil and she smiled even as Ryan’s hands reached for her throat.

She managed to fling her free hand up to block her neck, preventing him from getting a complete chokehold, and pressed the blade of the steak knife she had grabbed to Wheeler’s throat. Her aim was true, and she had his carotid in her sights.

“Sydney, stop!” She heard Jay’s shout but it sounded muffled against the roaring in her ears.

“Touch me, and you’ll bleed out,” she warned Wheeler.

He raised his hands and scooted backwards off of her. His face red with anger and embarrassment at having lost control of himself, the big man rose to his feet and said,“Ask him about Maya. And Ava.” And then he was stalking out of the yard.

“Uh, okay, let’s go, girls,” Mac said quickly, casting an apologetic look at Jay, who had gone still.

While the other guests hurried out of the yard, Sydney took her time picking herself up off the ground. She was laughing softly by the time she stood up and dusted herself off.

“I didn’t think I’d miss being in life-threatening situations, but I have to admit, that was exciting!”

She turned to Jay, who had turned off the grill and crossed his arms over his chest, but who remained silent. “What?” she asked. “Ryan’s the one who—“

“He’s right,” Jay interrupted. The words were spoken quietly, but their weight felt as heavy as lead to Sydney.

“What? Right about what?”

“There are things I need to tell you. And there are things I want to know about you too. But we haven’t shared them.”

She watched him, her chest still heaving from the adrenaline of her fight. “Okay. What do you want to tell me? What do you want to know?”

But instead of answering, he only shook his head and marched back into the house, slamming the door behind him.

“Jay?” she called, hurrying after him. When she tried the door, however, she found it locked. “Jay, this is crazy, come on.” She banged on the door and was pulling out her phone to try to call him when her screen lit up with his caller id. She hurried to answer it, fumbling and almost dropping her phone in her haste.

“Come on, can you let me in so we can talk about this?” she pleaded over the phone.

“I can’t do that. I have to do this without looking at you.”

Worry and fear seized her. Was he about to break up with her? “Jay…” she said again, but before she could continue, he spoke.

“‘Dear Nate,’” she heard him say, “‘I’ve met someone new recently. Her name is Sydney. She’s from New Orleans, was in the military, and has been overseas. Her favorite drink is beer, and I don’t know why.’” He paused, and she scrambled to answer, even as her mind realized he was reading to her from his journal.

“I—I like beer because it has less alcohol than liquor. Just keeps my head clearer. I told Lisa—damn, she really does keep things to herself.”

Jay continued. “I don’t know what branch of the military she was in—“

“Green Berets,” she said quickly, sagging against the door with relief.

“But that doesn’t really matter to me. Lisa told me that Sydney has secrets she wouldn’t share with her. Well, you and I know that I have secrets too.” He paused again, and she heard him draw in a shaky breath this time. “For instance, how do you tell someone you’re seeing that you knocked up a one-night stand over a year ago, and tried to be a father, only to fuck that up? Amy was a wonderful woman, you know this, Nate, and I will always love Maya because she’s my daughter, but they’re better off in Wisconsin with Amy’s parents. I know you wanted it to work out between me and Amy, but I’m glad it didn’t, otherwise, I wouldn’t have met Sydney. She’s got a sarcastic sense of humor, is beautiful beyond a doubt, and let’s not forget that she’s got a win under her belt against our father. I think you would have liked her.”

He stopped, and they were both silent for a long time.

“You still there?” Jay finally asked.

“Yes, and I want you to open this door,” she whispered, her voice rough as she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

She heard the lock turning and moved away from the door before it opened. She crossed the threshold as soon as the door opened enough to allow her through, and Jay gave her a teary smile as she stood there in his living room, her clothes dusty and her face tear-stained.

She went to him and gave him a hug. “Ask me your questions,” she said breathlessly. “I’ll answer them.”

So, he did. And if he didn’t ask her something, she shared it with him. They sat on the couch and bared their deepest secrets to each other, how Sydney had secretly made contact with a drug lord in South America for virtuous reasons, how Jay had almost shot the men responsible for beating Nate a few years ago.

“I couldn’t go through with it,” he confessed. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

“Only in combat. It’s…different when it’s an enemy during a war. I’ve been held hostage, though.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. At Dwayne Pride’s bar in New Orleans. He was the one who proved my innocence in South America with his team.”

“Team?”

“The Navy’s criminal investigative service.” She explained the connection between her mentor and Dwayne that had brought his team to South America to ultimately find her innocent of murder.

“Wow.” Jay shook his head.

“Can I tell you something nightmarish?”

He nodded slowly. “Only if I can tell you something.”

“I saw my commanding officer’s body. It was left there at the compound, sitting up, a hole in his throat.” She closed her eyes for a long moment. “I’ll never forget it.”

“I still see Ava sometimes in my dreams,” Jay admitted. “She was my girlfriend. We were living in a motel, and this guy a few doors down was a drug dealer and a…a rapist. The cops thought she did some drugs with him, and he tried to force himself on her, so she fled, but he caught up to her at the motel pool. It had been drained. I—I found her body there. It was…terrible. One of the worst times of my life.”

“If she was your girlfriend, why was Ryan so insistent that you tell me about her?”

He gave a faint smile. “There used to be a fighter named Alyssa at our gym. Ryan became involved with her. Alyssa was Ava’s sister. She left after what happened, of course. I don’t blame her.”

“This was before Maya came along?” she asked gently.

He wiped his eyes and nodded, and she squeezed his knee reassuringly.

“Things changed when Maya was born. I tried to be a good father,” he said quietly. “Alvey wasn’t there much for me and Nate because he was fighting or traveling to fight, and my mom split when Nate and I were kids. I didn’t plan to have a kid but once I heard Amy was pregnant, I knew I didn’t want my child to grow up…like I did.” His voice had become almost a whisper. “And now she’s being raised by a single mom.”

“You could ask to visit,” Sydney ventured.

“I’d just be a stranger to her. Maya won’t even remember me.”

“You love her. That’s gotta count for something.”

He said nothing, but she took it as a good sign that he hadn’t outright disagreed with her.

“I’m sorry I fought with Ryan,” she said now. “I’ll do better.”

“No, no. Ryan’s come at me too. He means well, it’s just…”

“Fuckups happen?”

He nodded.

“Still, I’ll talk to him. He’s important to you. We should get along.”

Jay swallowed, thinking back to Mac’s earlier remark. “You’re with Jay? You seem too smart to do something so stupid.”

“I’ll go clean up outside,” Sydney offered, breaking him from his reverie. “I think the chicken’s still in the fridge if you’re hungry. I can pan-fry it for us.”

She stood from the couch, only to have him take her hand in his. She stopped and turned back to face him. “What is it?” she asked.

“Why are you with me?” Kulina asked.

She chuckled. “What kind of question is that?”

“I mean…you could do way better than me. You have men hanging around for the picking at your bar. You could date any one of them, but you picked me.”

A beat passed as she thought before she answered. “You saw my skill and ability when I sprained that idiot’s wrist and complimented me on it. Most men would have been too intimidated or afraid to buy me a drink after that. And, since we’re being honest, I love that you’ve treated me with respect and that you’re loyal.” She shrugged. “It’s like you said. You grew on me. Like your sunglasses.”

“You sure you want to tie yourself to a fighter like me? Because that’s who I am. I will hurt other men for money, and I will get hurt too. I will bruise, break bones, and bleed, maybe even die from a fight. A leopard can’t change its spots, Sydney. I’m a leopard. A lone wolf.”

“I think you’re mixing metaphors,” she said lightly, but he didn’t smile. “Okay, look, I’ve been alone most of my life too. The only woman in my unit? I’ve broken a few barriers in the military, but it’s been a difficult journey. I fought every step of the way. But let me ask you this—what happens when two lone wolves find each other?”

“They try to kill each other?” he guessed.

She said, “Okay, maybe, or maybe they’re no longer alone. Maybe they become a unit. A pack.”

She moved closer until his forehead was resting against her abdomen. She heard him inhale and, through her shirt, felt his breath flutter against her on the exhale, raising goosebumps on her skin.

“What did I do to deserve you?” he asked softly.

“Funny,” she said, combing a hand through his hair with gentle strokes. “I was asking myself the same thing.”

He lifted his head to stare up at her, green eyes meeting her brown ones. “Forget cleaning up.” He gave a shake of his head. “Forget the food,” he said. “I just want you.” He lifted her shirt enough to press a kiss to her toned, bare abdomen. “I want to worship your body.”

“That sounds like a very good thing,” she said in a coy whisper, feeling the warmth of desire spread through her as Jay’s lips trailed lower along her skin.

[popculturebuffet]

Nightmare Time Episode 1 Review: The Hatchetfield Ape-Man/Watcher World

I take a look at the first episode of Starkid’s new show Nightmare Time! Starkid, returns for a zoomcast, bringing back the casts of both Hatchefield plays for an anthology series of science fiction double feature picture shows! This week’s tales of terror:

The Hatchefield Ape-Man: A british heiress gets romanced by a shaved bigfoot with the help of everyone’s favorite kooky college professor. Forgotten fiances, murder and described nudity naturally insue. 

Watcher World: Bill and Alice return as Bill drags his daughter to a kitschy theme park for a day of family fun, which Alice enjoys and is as respectful about as much as you’d expect. As you’d also expect given Bill’s general luck, things take a turn for the Shining real quick. Spoilers and full review under the cut. 

Well this was a nice suprise. With the ongoing pandemic I genuinely did not think Starkid would be back anytime soon. Having just gotten back into them this years after several years of forgetting they existed via the Hatchetfield plays, I was pretty bummed, if understanding. So last week’s announcment of not only this series but a full scripted series from their sister production company the tin bros was a HUGE shot of happy I needed in this troubling times. Still need to watch spies are forver love the soundtrack nto important. 

Point is the Lang Brothers and their merry band of actors found a way to continue on via  format I didn’t realize existed outside of table reads but is a nice way to do things: The Zoomcast, basically a podcast done live on zoom, with the actors in plainclothes for the most part, with one person, in this case Nick Lang, reading out descriptions of what’s going on. Being a starkid production this also has musical director Matt Bohm playing accompaniment and pretaped if still via the actor’s own camera musical numbers. Overall while i’ts an understandably cheap production, only what costumes the actors have on hand and most props mimed, it WORKS, allowing for way more elaborate set pieces than the stage would allow and is anchored by Lang’s impeccable descriptions and the cast’s amazing as always acting really making the stories pop.  So things worked on a technical level despite having the barest of bones to work with. But did it work on a story level? Well yes, but if I ended my reviews with just that i’d have less than the 3 or 4 fans I do have, so without further ado, it’s nightmare time! The Intro: 

Now normally in my reviews I don’t talk about the intro because I come in mid way or because I just didn’t think to. This is an exception since 

A) I should be doing that anyway or at least when I cover a show’s first episode since intro’s are sometimes one of the most memorable parts of a show 

B) It’s a full musical number that’s been stuck in my head since the trailer for this series and has now set up an apartment there.  C) This series is a musical, if not to the same degree as the two plays before it, so it’d be weird NOT to talk about it’s signature song. 

So with that out of the way the intro.. is fucking impressive. Seriously taking disparate videos with probably as much as the directions “Sing this part of the song and be kind of creepy or alluring or whatever” and making it really flow? Good work, both to the starkids for bringing their a game to it as always and to Nick and Matt really did a good job   editing this together, musically and visually to be an abolute jawdrop. And somehow finding utterly stunning stock image animations that none of us realized were stock footage but still fit the tone perfectly. Just great stuff.  Some stray notes: Mariah is absolutely stunning in both voice and apperance in this, John Matheson’s bit as paul was great, and Jeff Blim of course got a great bit with his always astounding hair blowing in the breeze with him at full high pitch. Just an utterly great intro, and for Starkid’s first series in over a decade, and really ever but semantics, they really brought it. Good stuff. Onto the actual episode content. 

The Hatchetfield Ape-Man: Lucy, a british heiress played by Angela Giarratana, was saved by the legendary “Hatchefield Ape-Man”.. who apparently has a hyphen like spider-men because while sasquatches can do that. Point is she’s come back every year in the hopes of reuniting with her savior but has so far failed.  But as Lucy prepares to leave from this year’s failed expedition, an old friend finally gives her what she needs... old friend to us to her she’s just some grey haired lunatic who showed up out of the mist. Which while accurate, dosen’t quite quantify everyone’s favorite playwright/college professor/murderous psychopath/composer.

Yes at long last Professor Hidgens has returned! I honestly didn’t expect the anthology to bring in such a huge fan faviorite so soon. I mean I expected returning characters, mostly because the project allows old faviorites to come back for their own stories or for the stars of the musicals to get a chance at a much happier ending... there’s a lot of potetial there. That and let’s face it “Jane’s a Car” is a pretty dead giveaway it’s going to be about Tom’s dead wife and Tim’s dead mother coming back in horrible mash up of christine and my mother the car. Maybe. I could be wrong. I also doubt many of you know what my mother the car is and to that I say it’s an old sitcom i’m honestly suprised I know exists and know nothing about other than the title and it being about a son’s mom’s ghost possesing his car apparently. Well that and it was the basis for this. 

Point is, while I expected some returns, I wasn’t expecting one this large and this bombastic so soon, but BOY was it welcome.  So getting back on track after all that, HIdgens seemingly takes Lucy to meet her ape man, who goes by the name Klonk, played by everyone’s faviorite sexy caveman Joey Richter. Also it’s adorable he and Lauren share a streaming screen. I know practicality and all that but their engagment is genuinely a sweet thing to hear about at a time when the world’s going down the toilet fast. Fun Fact: I pegged the Ape-Man was either going to be Jeff or Joey, leaning towards Jeff, though given my love of Joey I wasn’t disapointed with him, especially with the twist... but I was EXASTIC to learn the answer was basically “Both.. kinda?”. But yeah Lucy soon bonds with the ape man, with HIdgens encouraging her since it’s more than he’s gotten out of Klonk in 11 months of looking after the guy, and this way they can get him to learn enough to decide what he wants for himself. 

So a few months, and some romantic bonding between woman and ape-man, pass but a wrench is thrown into Klonk’s wooing and attempt to tell lucy he loves her: Jonathan, Lucy’s just now mentioned fiance and royal dickhead played by Kurt Mega. And credit where it’s do whlie he clearly didn’t have to dress up, he did have a nice 50′s monster movie british person suit he put on.  Lucy is now conlficted and what not even though Jonathan is kind of an asshole who just wants to drag her back home. And i’ts not like Lucy didn’t keep in touch: she sent him texts and probably called, so i’ts not like he didn’t know she was here. He’s also a hunter for extra dick points as if he needed them.  Naturally when meeting his romantic rival he’s a dick.. but raises some valid questions: While Hidgens claim he shaved Konk due to lesions, there’s no mark of lesisons or the shaving. But his natural dickheadedness shines through and Jonathan talks about shooting Klonk before lucy takes his ring off and throws it and Jonathan goes after her.  Annnnd yeah turns out the disposable dickhead fiance for once is RIGHT. In a twist I did not remotley see coming but damn if it wasn’t clever, Klonk.. is Ted from TGWDLM and the plan was to seduce lucy with this con, marry her and then bump her off. It’s a hell of a twist and cleverly hidden since Joey’s such a starkid mainstay, it’s not a huge suprise he was Klonk and thus easily hid the fact he was also Ted. It’s clever stuff and pivots the story nicely. 

Ted is naturally a douchey as ever, going along with Hidgen’s plan to have him marry lucy then kill her and take her dough for themselves.. and unsuprisingly, so Hidgens can get Workin Boys off the ground. Granted there are easier ways to do this with the same scooby doo scheme: Just have HIdgens plan working boys casually, have Klonk really love it and being the sweetheart she is LUcy would fiance the thing just to make them both happy. I mean he can still marry her and ted can still have direct acess to her money if they want, it’s just an easier way that dosen’t shine supscion on the caveman who looks exactly like a local douchebag who everyone he’s met would testify against him. I mean would Paul and Bill REALLY be that suprised that Ted did this? 

Exactly. Then again neither of our “heroes’ Here is very bright, and this scheme only works because Lucy is clearly very sweet, very naive, and very much wants a romantic evening with an ape man after all this time and effort searching, so she wants to believe him. So the fact the best they could come up with is something out of Scooby Doo is unsuprisng but still great.  However things take a turn for the

Pretty quick as Hidgens takes disposable british douche fiance hunting.. then kills the guy after freely admiting he’s a fraud in what’s an INCREDIBLY chilling scene. Seriously it’s amazing how Robert takes a character as loveably redicilous, even his evil and murderous plan during TGWDLM was still hilariously rediclous, and makes him UTTERLY TERRIFYING. Even when dropping my fair lady refrences. Amazing stuff.  So the next day, after Konk “asks” what an engagment is and what not, we then get Lucy wondering just WHERE jonathan is and we get the second biggest laugh of the night as Hidgens gives us the iconic line of “Oh he left... said something about you being crazy and going back to london and basically to go fuck yourself. “. Naturally Lucy has followup questions and goes to find out while Ted, also naturally, isn’t exactly pleased when he finds out his partner in crime did a murder on someone. 

Ted may be a sleazy dickhead.. but even he sees maybe murdering a rich british person who just came here, went basically ONLY to this one location, and whose probably got many people who will misss him, one of whom is their primary target, is kinda dumb. Then again this is a plan that hinges on someone who could easily be identified, as he has or at least probably had an office job and three coworkers who know him, assuming a false identity to marry someone for their money. But again we’re dealing with a guy who thinks working boys is marketable to anyone who isn’t a starkid, and a moron who soon says he does his best thinking while erect. They only got this far because their target REALLY wants to fuck a sasquatch, is sweet but naive and well Ted IS still joey richter, and no longer has the porn stache so there you go.  Ted decides to cut Hidgens out of things.. partly because you know, he killed a person, and partly because instead of killing Lucy, Ted realized he honeslty has a LOT to gain by simply marrying her and staying married. He gains a hot rich wife (his word’s not mine, but angie is genuinely beautiful so fair point), a mansion, and while Hidgens points out the obvious, he has to stay Konk.. that’s actually appealing to Ted as he feels better as Konk, not just because he impresses an attractive woman for doing basic stuff, but because he feels better as Konk. This is.. an intresting turn for Ted i genuinely like. It shows that Ted may, as much as he presents with bluster and ego, actually LIKE the kind of shithead he knows he is. I mean looking at his life he has two workmates who calling them friends is a bit of a stretch, and one who he’s having an affair with but seems detemrined to make her doomed marriage to an even bigger asshole work. He really dosen’t have much as ted so it’s easy to see why being Konk is better: He’s a better person as him who actually has someone who cares about him.  Naturally Hidgens takes this as well as you’d expect and when Ted/Konk tries proposing he goes with the logical option for taking the fourtune for himself:

Yes really. Hidgens strips naked, and swings his arms around like an orangutan to try and convince Lucy he’s the real hatchetfield apeman. Sadly this dosen’t mean we get a shirtless robert manion as he needs to keep the turtleneck on for later, but the mental image.. I had to pause the video for a good minute to laugh over it. Just everything about it from it somehow being a dumber plan than his scheme this episode, to the orangutan swaying to just.. everything. It’s fucking genius.  But Higdens has more than a mighty penis to compete with Ted.. he reveals ted’s phone and Ted ends up revealing himsef by telling Hidgens to go fuck himself. Naturally Lucy is distraught and tries to leave and the professor pulls out his shotgun to threaten her into financing his musical because of course it’s about workin boys. Lucy tries to run, Hidgens tries to shoot.. and ted , doing the first good thing in his entire life, takes the bullet.  Lucy gets ted out of there then locks the door behind them, and we get the SCARIEST bit in this segment as Hidgens leans into the camera, simulating the peep hole of the vault door to the ape man inclosure and begs her to let him out. It’s some real Jack Nicholson in the Shining stuff and it’s utterly terrifying, but it’s also an amazing bit of acting. Nice job Rob.  So ted bleeds out, as much as Lucy wants to save him he knows he’s not going to make it and prefers to die as Konk, finally happy with himself. And I just realized everyone at Paul’s job is horribly miserable. I mean good god, Paul himself has serious depression issues judging by “Let it Out”, Ted clearly hates himself, Charlotte is in a horrible marriage and Bill just got out of one and has a strained realtionship with his daughter we’ll get into more in a bit. I mean honestly, Mr. Davidson is the only one of them who really dosen’t need therapy.. he just needs to tell his wife he wants her to choke him while he jerks off. For as ungodly hilarious as that line is he’s probably the most well adjusted person there. Go figure. 

Naturally being already insane, Hidgens breaks out, still naked mind, and chases after Lucy. Also noticable is apparently some people thought hidgens was manipulated by the blue shit hive mind in TGWDLM. Which.. no. I do love the guy dont’ get me wrong.. but it was very obvious both from the way his musical number was done compared to the rest of the ones in the musical, and his actions that was entirely him, and his playing the music was so he could join, especially since we don’t see the hive mind use any mind manupluation on anyone else. Regular manipulation sure as seen with you tied up my heart and not your seed, manipulating charoltte into freeing her asshole husband so he could infect her and torturing bill for funsies. Just something to get out of the way. Point is he was always crazy we just now have him chasing an innocentish woman with his dong hanging out to prove it.  He eventually catches her as Lucy catches herself in one of his bear traps when she hits the woods, because he had those for some reason.. and he has a resonable way out: Just give her the 30,000 dollars he needs for his musical. Thing is she dosen’t have the money.. or hardly any. She spent all of it trying to find the ape man and was marrying jonathan for his money and him for her title. And while it is a bit skeezy, it’s very clear both were using each other and likely knew it, and Lucy still comes out the most moral of our cast here.. granted it’s not a big stretch as hidgens is criminally insane, ted’s a skeeze and Jonathan.. well he’s just a diiiiiiccckkkk. It’s not hard is what i’m saying.. much like hidgen’s dick flopping around in the rain. But yeah he dosen’t take it well, Lucy goes up a tree, which is apparently something Becky did once. But before Lucy can die at the hands of a naked thespian, the REAL Ape-Man shows up and tears Hidgen’s arms off, taking lucy in his own arms afterwords and revealing he remembers her. The two hit it off instantly, it turns out his name is chumby in an excellent gag as that was what Hidgens wanted his fake ape man to be named but Ted froze, and go off into the night together. Awww.. what if a naked ape man played by my boy jeff blim and a british person can’t work who can? 

We then close out the segment with a cameo appearance by Jamie Lynn Beatty, who while not part of the cast for this double feature, does get a fun showtune about the ape man. Also fun fact that i found out here on tumblr: That costume is from something Jamie did in HIGH SCHOOL. As in well over a decade ago. Like holy shit, good for her. She looks great in it. But yeah it’s a fun song and a nice way to close it out.  Final Thoughts on the Hatchetfield Ape-Man: This was a great way to start things off. This one was more in line with starkids pre-hatchetfield work, a goofy story with some hidden depth inside. And like the guy who didn’t like musicals it was utterly terrifying in spots so yeah good stuff ,utterly hilarous and a great way to bring back some old faviorites while giving us a neat new protaganist. Good stuff. 

Watcher World:

Now from a mostly comedy with a horrifying ending to just.. pure unfiltered horror and depression! It’s Watcher World! Bill and Alice are back! And given I love Mariah Rose Faith and Corey Dorris, I was exastic to find this was what the second segment was about.. mostly because I had no idea Starkid had teasers for the episodes on their instagram, or I would’ve known Hidgens was coming. I wouldn’t of known he’d be stark naked for the last third of his story but still, pleasant surprise.

So Bill and Alice are spending the day at Watcher World, a run down amusement park on the edge of town. It’s Alice’s last weekend before College so Bill’s trying to reconnect with her by cramming a good old fashioned family vacation down her throat. Alice is less than enthused, both because she clearly resents her dad in general, and because Deb is throwing a huge rager on the same night. My honest interpretation of that is that Deb fully inteded for her girlfriend to come but Bill sprung this on Alice at the last minute and being pretty oblivious and hating Deb, either didn’t care about taking alice from one last night with her friends and girlfriend or didn’t generally think that through. I mean don’t get me wrong normally i’d side with a parent not wanting their daughter to attend a huge teen rager on their last weekend together.. but it’s also Alice’s last weekend in town for some time, and it’s likely a saturday.. so he has another day, and presumibly had friday before this and while things with his ex wife are tense, fighting for an extra day with her would be understandable and i’ts not like Alice, even if she hates Bill, would really fight him on getting an extra day in the town she didn’t want to leave. 

But that’s what I really like about this one that it’s layered. While Alice is slightly more in the right, she’s still shutting her dad out, refusing to let him follow her on instagram (though he does agree with her keeping it private as he dosen’t want Ted perving on her, which tracks, or Ted’s brother doing it which.. wait what?), and being on her phone the whole time to very clearly spite him and rub how much she dosen’t want to be there in her dad’s face. She dosen’t WANT to be at watcher world but instead of trying to talk to her Dad just wants to complain and apparenlty has on all their vacations.. it’s easy to see why Bill is annoyed by his daughter at times and thinks he has to FORCE HER to have fun with him, because otherwise she’d gladly ignore him for their entire weekends together for Deb. She’s so determined to punish her dad for the divorce, that she refuses to see on some level he IS trying, and is just sad about her leaving, and possibly leaving him forever and alone with nothing else in his life but his buddy Paul, whose getting married next week so that’s probably not helping.  On the other hand the reason I say Alice is more in the right is that well.. Bill’s a grown ass men. And while, speaking for himself, grown ass men don’t always make the right decisions, and not speaking for myself neither do fathers... Alice’s acting out is understandable coming from an 18 year old whose been through hell over the last year, having her parents divorce being forced to move, loosing her friends. Bill however just kind of uses her age and angst as an excuse to undermine and belittle her feelings. Because he doesn’t like deb for the very stupid reasons of she does pot, instead of assuring her that Deb wouldn’t cheat on Alice with Deb’s former crush Zigg, starkid’s first non binary character in a nice show that Nick Lang wasn’t just covering his ass when he said there’d be more representation in starkid, which in his defense I didn’t doubt him on but it’s still nice he did so at the earliest opportunity and very clearly plans to use Zigg if he can find a nonbinary actor for them. 

But yeah instead of assuring his daughter, Bill is just like “well sometimes relationships don’t work out” which while true is clearly his self serving way of trying to get Alice to break up with someone he dosen’t like. INstead of supporting her in her dreams of writing plays, one of which was good enough to get her a scholarship, he tries to act like she has no plans for her future and get her to be a doctor for more security, even though having a secure job has done.. no one at his office including him favors. I mean again, the most stable and happy person at the office is the guy in charge, and even he can’t tell his wife he wants her to choke him out at night. He wants her to choke him, he wants her to choke him while he jerks off, he wants her to choookeeee himmm while heeeee jerrrkssss offfff. 

While part of this seems to be that Deb plans to be a starving artist who can mooch off her parents in a pinch, Alice GENUINELY seems to have a full plan for her life. I do get his worrying about her future.. but she’s a smart kid. A bit of a brat but she knows what she wants clealry and clearly has talent. He’s just projecting his own fears on her. He also refuses to accept any responsibility in the divorce.. his hating his ex wife IS valid, as she took his daughter away, uprooted her life a year before graduation and spends gobs of money on impressive outings, the latter two seemingly just to spite him when honestly, it’d of made more sense for Alice to stay with Bill for the year before she graduates and been better for her. However, Bill still doesn’t take responsibly that he too is shoving fun down her throat to try and win her over, hates her girlfriend and refuses to treat her with any respect, and really DOSEN’T know Alice all that well. As we learn during their fun day she has anxiety, and he never knew about it. And the divorce isn’t really an excuse when he had years before that.  It’s the real problem of their relationship: Bill feels ENTITLED to a good father daughter relationship, but isn’t working at it and blames his ex wife or Alice for it instead of himself. While Alice isn’t an innocent as i’ve made clear, putting up walls and not telling dad things, given bill ignores her when she DOES try to tell him about her life, it’s easy to see she’s just given up. If he won’t listen why bother. Which yeah i’ve found myself there with my own dad from time to time. Bill’s not a bad person, he genuinely loves Alice, as he says “to the moon and back”, but it’s very clear from this outing he still loves the little girl who loved him unconditionally and not the complicated and mopey adult sh’es become, and dosen’t WANT to adapt to that and fears once she leaves for college she’ll avoid him for good, which isn’t unfounded. It’s a good, complex rich dynamic.  Naturally with.. all this I covered up front instead of sprinkling it throughout, the day doesn’t go great, with Alice utterly miserable most of the time, and ending up in a goofy novelty t-shirt due to a log ride. She also has an unsettling encounter with park mascot Blinky, our newest adorable abomination, who not only shows up the moment she does something bad on camera but also stares at her ass, which.. Paul you mind coming back for a second?

Thank you. They end up at the Watch Party, a cheesy kids show musical because Bill apparently equates this with his daughter loving musicals. I mean granted cheesy kids stage shows can be rad just listen to this. 

But I get Alice’s annoyance here. Thus we get the return of the sniggles, who apparently serve whatever eldrich deity is around this week and our first song of this segment, The Blinky Song. Which is catchy as hell as well as hilariously dark (”I’m so hungry”), and uses the stock footage well, as I could buy a cheap theme park ran by an eldtirch eye goblin using stock footage. But yeah it establishes Blinky as always watching and kinda fucked up.  Also the sniggles are now clearly the smurgs with Angie’s now being named Sniglette, Jeff being papa Sniggle and James being Snigglotts. However Sniglette considers leaving with another song with a long string of words. Then, things get.. dark as the rest of the sniggles don’t want her to leave and try and mob her, and then Papa Sniggle accidently wings her with a mallet and apparenlty injures the actual performer, before everyone’s ushered out and the usher pretends nothing happened. Good mind screw horror stuff. 

Alice and Bill then bicker a bit with my above point being made as Alice TRIES to get Bill to accept some respoinablity but he refuses and blames her mom. It’s now time for the Tear-Jerker, the reason they came. Bill’s buddy Paul says someone died. They also find three other people waiting in line and when one goes to the bathroom the other two start making out which.. yeah, dosen’t help Alice’s worry Deb’s going to cheat on her. So she takes the first single rider pass she can, with Bill worming his way in as to not let her get away.  The two naturally end up fighting on the Tear-Jerker before it stops up high, and ends up stalled, with the gloriously returning Nerdy Kid played by Joey from Black Friday being as helpful as usual. Seriously bless them for bringing him back. Man in a Hurry also showed up again, bless him too. Alice picks this time to reveal her fear of heights and anxiety, and an approaching storm isn’t helping. So Bill.. steps up. He helps ease Alice down taking her phone for her, if loosing it due tot he rain and helping her stay calm. It’s a REALLY nice portrayal of an anxiety attack, with Mariah herself apparently having them and thus portraying it really well. As someone who has them myself it really hits home and Bills calm attempts to help her are really heartwarming, getting her to describe her musical for him and the two bonding. It’s genuinely sweet.  But.. it can’t last, as Alice freaks out about her phone and Bill for once is in the right, as .. he was you know.. trying to save his daughter having a panic attack, and really stepped up given he was obnovious she had anxiety in the first place, and managed it well. He then gives the utterly heart stomping line “I love you to the moon and back, but sometime’s it’s really hard to like you. “

Just damn. So Alice runs off and both find their way to the fairway. Bill tries winning a doll for Alice, getting into a test of strength where he fails repedatly and is constantly mocked by the barker, played by James Tolbert who also played Blinky.. 

That should be Tolbert’s twitter handle. Anyway point is, Bill keeps trying even as he wracks up 400 dollars in credit card debt, for a 49.95 doll, before eventually the barker and hte crowd’s jeers get to be too much and he does smack it hard, thinking of all of his pent up rage towards alice.. just as the bell at the top takes the shape of alice’s head and explodes.  Bill is naturally horrified by this by the barker assures he loves him.. and that he should totally hobble his daughter misery style to make her not leave him and use the mallet for it.  Meanwhile Alice is at the shooting Gallery not wanting the blinky doll she wins, just blowing off steam when she runs into an old crone played by Lauren Lopez. But this Crone has her phone... which suspiciously has a ton of instagram photos of Deb and Zigg making out while sharing a toke. Granted Deb COULD’VE cheated, but given Alice is insecure, and her phone was given back to her by a witch working for an eye goblin.. yeah maybe just maybe Deb was loyal, and if she wasn’t wouldn’t be dumb enough to put it on instagram. But given Alice is already worked up it’s easy enough for her to beliive that her relationships in danger and if she gets there in time she can stop it and oh look her gun is now a real gun and can help her get the keys.  So yeah it’s time for a creepy as hell Shining-esque showdown, but if both sides were possesed instead of one. It’s.. a CHILLING as hell scene, not helped by Alice wielding a gun again as both fight. I was gripped the entire time and don’t have much to say utter than HOLY SHIT THIS WAS AS TERRIFYING AS IT WAS RIVITING. 

But a crowd gathers as the fight continues.. all with purple eyes which ave been seen on and off, watchers with a thousand eyes.. and with Blinky, now revealed NOT to be a costume probably, above them all. We also get one hell of a line.  “This is an amusement park but not for YOUR amusement.”

So yeah I love this sequence.. and Blinky as a villain. While it’s vague if he and Blinky  are the same entity.. I’m going with not. It’s not a stretch that like Cthulu, Wiggly has brothers in the black and white, with their own motives, methods and ability to get into our world. Unlike Wiggly.. Blinky’s already here and has no real ambition other than to find people to mentally tear apart and set loose on one another for his own amusement. He doesn’t have grand plans of burning the world.. he just wants to be entertained. It’s an interesting and chilling motive and I hope we see him again eventually. I also believe those at the park are trapped there bound after their own day there and trapped doing whatever Wiggly needs. Except maybe squeaky voiced teen. He probably just complains about cleaning up so much blood.  But yeah Blinky is very happy as the fight escalates into the hall of mirrors and Alice looses her gun.. with Bill now poised to strike down his daughter as the mirror reflects the various workers at the park, all encouraging him to kill her... it’s utterly terrifying as Bill’s eyes take on a purple tint.. and we get a POWERFUL use of the score and the “why does it hurt to love you’ bit from TGWDLM.. as Bill sees himself and what he’s about to do, sees his daughter understandably having a panic attack.. and calms her, his eyes returning and the two reconciling.  Of course Blinky isn’t happy about this “sappy bullshit” and brings htem into his domain, charging at them. But kinda missing that giving a pissed off teenager a rifle she knows how to use when you have a giant target for a face isn’t a good idea and she shoots him, with him bleeding a flood of purple goo that sends them out. While I doubt Winky’s dead, he is done with them.  Our story concludes on a sweeet note as the two find their car, and they finally make as tep forward, Bill having seen almost too late how selfish and controlling he was being and accepting his daughter on her phone.. and Alice realizing her need to open up and after checking Instagram, likely finding out those photo’s weren’t real, she throws her phone in the back.. but not before accepting her dad’s request, letting him in. Sure the road ahead is rough.. but the two have made a good first step towards repairing things and loving one another again in a healthy manner. and all it took  was bill nearly murdering her and allice shooting an eye goblin int he face and getting covered in his blood. Cue the credits, a beautiful song called “One Thousand Eyes” with Jeff Blim fucking nailing it. A great way to send off this bit.  Final Thoughts: This was the best one of the two. While Ape Man is really good too, this one took the darker tone of black friday, but with a tighter narrative. By focusing on a smaller cast, the darker elements really played better and the conclusion felt more satisfying.. though it helped that BOTH of these tails ended without everyone dying, and while I doubt EVERY story will have a happy ending, it makes things more interesting knowing that the heroes can get a happy ending this time around instead of an apocalypse. 

Overall Thoughts: This double feature was great, I’ll be getting a ticket to the next one if I can afford it, and if not i’ll see it presumably in December or next year when it comes on YouTube. Really excellent stuff.  So this was a first for me but if you’d like to see more starkid stuff from me, let me know in the comments or my askbox, commission me to review one of the musicals via dm, and if you liked how I did this review follow this blog for weekly ducktales and loud house coverage, and amphibia coverage when that returns, among more fun reviews. And until next time.. don’t blink. Play us out Jeff. 

I really hope this is the ending theme for the series. 

[efrmellifer]

FFxivWrite ‘20, Fourteen

Prompt: Part, post-Shadowbringers (spoiler-free), 1,610 words

Remaining silent save for the rusting of branches as she plucked at them, Etien listened to the sounds of Upper La Noscea as she gathered rolanberries.

Now, granted, she was going to be experimenting. But she had always been working off her memory of her mother’s recipe for these pastries, and now it had been quite a while since she’d made them last.

The last time would have been… oh, she’d still been living with the Fortemps family. So that was a few years back now. Though, she’d been making these with her mother since she was little, so she doubted she’d forgotten the recipe. At least, in broad strokes. She might forget minor details.

But her mother had on and off, too. And they had always turned out okay.

For what it was worth, Aymeric had never complained about the last batch she’d made and given him anonymously (unless Lucia had told on her. Gods, she hoped not). But whether he’d known Etien had been responsible for them or not, he was too polite to make comments like that unbidden.

She bit her lip, dropping another berry into her basket.

She probably wasn’t going to need many more than this, considering the berries would be halved, then quartered, and made into something nearing a preserve before they were put into the dough and baked up. Not to mention, half of them were going to be chocolate anyway.

She looked at the berries in her basket, counting them and trying to imagine their volume when they’d been chopped up and boiled down.

Aye, that’d be enough. She rose to her feet, groaning at finally getting off her knees, and headed into Bronze Lake to travel back to Ishgard by Aetheryte.

As Etien pulled out the dough from where she’d put it away to chill, she wondered absently how she hadn’t been caught yet. She supposed it made sense, when she’d stayed up late (or rather, Aymeric had gone to bed early) to start the dough, mixing the ingredients and kneading it out again before she’d put it away the night before, but still. How had no one seen it?

Oh, well. It was probably better that way, since if no one had seen, they couldn’t have altered it.

She turned the bowl out onto the floured surface again, parting the dough carefully, fingers digging into the pillow-y softness. She’d crinkled her nose at working the butter in last night, but now she had to admit it did smell nice. She dropped half the dough back into the bowl for safekeeping, and began rolling out what remained, slicing it up.

Then she turned to the stove, lifting up the pot of rolanberries and running a spoon through them to check their consistency. Not that it mattered; if it had turned to jam, she would just add more to each of the rolls.

She dipped her finger into the still-hot fruit mixture, checking if it was sweet enough while she still had the chance to add sweetener. She’d started with honey, but now she was debating the merits of adding birch syrup.

She shrugged, putting the pot down. That could go on top later.

She started spooning out thick dollops of the berry preserves, spreading them across the pale expanses of dough, the motion becoming rhythmic as she started humming, her mind wandering.

She couldn’t really remember what she had been thinking about by the time the first set of pastries, packed to leaking with rolanberry, were rolled up and sitting on the pan, but she regained her focus as she covered them and put them aside to start rising while she worked on the chocolate ones.

These were the ones her mother had specialized in, preparing them for special occasions and rising early to be sure the job was done by the time the rest of the family woke.

To eat these was like tasting home, enjoying a bite of the past for Etien. She had hoped to pass along that comfort in some small way when she’d made them last time, though seeing as she had refused to admit she had been the anonymous giver, she’d never gotten to explain herself.

Well, this was her second chance, wasn’t it?

She watched the dough stretch as she cut and pulled it into eight equal parts. She tipped her head, brow knitting, at the fact that this half of the dough was producing smaller pieces, but couldn’t do anything now but shake her head. She just hoped these got extra-puffy when they rose.

She laid the chocolate down in the center of these, unlike streaking the preserves toward the edge like she had before. These were always a little thicker and more like a bread in Etien’s memory, so that was what she attempted now, as always.

She letter-folded the pastry dough, sealing up the chocolate within and nodding decisively. These, she would let rise seam-up, so she could tell the difference when they had finished baking. She covered these as well, and put them next to their berried siblings to all rise together, and dusted the flour off her hands before it could get all over her clothing.

She snapped her fingers with a curse under her breath just before she slid the trays into the oven. She’d forgotten a step. But she still had a chance to get it done.

“Eggs, eggs,” she mumbled to herself, praying there was one left in the pantry. She cracked it into a bowl, stirring it rapidly and brushing it over the tops of the pastries.

Only a third of a bell until they were done now.

She had the feeling her mother had used some trick to make everything settle in the dough faster, since Etien had never seen her starting them the day (or two full nights, if she’d wanted to wait that long) before. And now she’d never find out what that secret was.

She sighed a little, leafing through Aymeric’s favorite cookbook again. Things like that made her miss her mother. It was one thing when she was busy with the Scions, swept up in action and adventure and the go-go-go of it all. And when she was occupied with the family she’d found (and made for herself) in Ishgard, she didn’t usually think about it. She was who she was now, what she’d been formed into.

But when she was by herself like this, struggling to remember the steps she’d watched her mother make over and over, then she felt unmoored, adrift on a Shroud breeze that became a Coerthan wind. She had been a daughter once in more than title.

She brought a hand up to her mouth and nose, in case she started crying. She already felt the pressure on her eyes. She could denounce her father all she wanted, but she missed her mother. She missed M’ertle and M’ynstrel, too, but she’d found a facsimile in Alisaie and Alphinaud, so that sting was reduced.

But Etien didn’t really have her mum, any mother figure, anymore. Feo Ul had been maternal, maybe—she thought of the tiny Pixie hand on her cheek, the soft ‘are they hurting you?’—but it wasn’t quite the same, was it? Anyone who could have been a mother figure was really more like an older sister.

The scent of butter pastry filled the air, and the timer (a nail driven into a candle falling to the table) sounded.

Etien wiped at her eyes, despite their dryness, and headed back to the oven, pulling the trays out.

Golden-toned and puffed perfectly. Just the way her mother had made them. At least she still had that.

When Aymeric came in, Etien was trying her damnedest to get something together for dinner. Luckily, it wasn’t too hard to whip together a pasta dish, but she still felt bad as she divided it up onto plates.

“Sorry it’s late,” she murmured as she set it down on the table.

“That’s all right,” he replied simply. “I needed the time to catch my breath. I got a little extra work done. I hope you didn’t rush too much.”

“Not too much,” she answered, sitting down opposite him. “I guess you could say I lost track of time. I was baking, a little personal project.”

“Do I get to test the fruits of your labor?”

She laughed. “You will. But not until after you’ve had your fill of that.”

Their plates emptied, it had come time to retire to their usual lounging. So Etien grabbed the basket of pastries, bringing them with her as she sat down on the loveseat, pulling the blanket over her lap.

Aymeric came in with the tea, and as soon as he’d set the cups down, immediately lifted one of the top-seamed baked goods.

He smelled it, explaining, “the scent of freshly-baked breads is just intoxicating. I wish I had been here to enjoy the aroma as they baked.”

Etien smiled, moving her legs so he could sit down.

He did, wrapping an arm around her so she could lean against him fully and taking a bite of the pastry.

“Oh. I’ve had one of these before. After…” he squinted, and his voice lowered. “After the Vault.”

Etien nodded slowly.

“I never did find out who sent them.” He looked over to see her expression, nearing embarrassed. “Oh, dearest, were you too shy?”

She covered a laugh that sounded more like a sob. “Do you like it?”

“I do! I liked them then, too.”

She relaxed, merrily sipping her tea and taking the bite Aymeric offered her.

Damn, she forgot the birch syrup.

[wings-of-indigo]

So, Waitress is closing and Why I am Happy about that: An Exceedingly long essay Rant about Broadway

Look. Nobody's gonna read this, most likely, but it's 2 in the morning and my brain's been obsessing over Broadway (more than usual, anyway) since communing with my people at intensive this week. So, in the interest of getting some sleep before 8 hrs of dance and shitty high notes tomorrow, here goes.

I love classic, high-school-and-community standard musicals. I love new and experimental musicals. I love Disney film-to-stage musicals. I love institution musicals like Chorus Line, Cats, and Wicked; I even have a soft spot for Phantom. I am eagerly anticipating West Side Story next Christmas (seriously, I have a calander).

BUT.

As I said to one of my fellow dancers during post-class stretch (after noting his insane flexibilty and making yet another resolution to stretch more) I am Sick to GoDAMnEd DEATH of revivals, franchise adaptions, and restagings taking up the Broadway and greater theater markets.

I get why it's happening; I do. Musical theater, even shows that never make it out of Regional productions (Be More Chill, btw, I'm so proud of you bby :'-D ) are REALLY FREAKING EXPENSIVE, not just to stage, but also to develop. Broadway productions nowadays regularly go upwards of TENS OF MILLIONS OF DOLLARS in costs.

Those costs are more and more frequently being met through funding by large groups of wealthy investors, who can expect basically little to no return on that investment. Only a select few shows that make it to the Great White Way do well enough to turn a profit (let alone the kinds of numbers that Hamilton, DEH, and Wicked continue to make), and more and more shows are closing in defict or once they break even. (Coincidentally, this is probably why we're seeing more and more straight plays on Broadway, especially in limited engagements. They're quicker, cheaper, and still have the same level of prestige.)

It makes sense then to assume that a show linked to an already successful property has a better chance of reaching that break-even mark, or perhaps generating a small return, than a more original idea. It's a surer bet, and we've seen it a lot these past few seasons. Anastasia, Beetlejuice, Pretty Woman, Moulin Rouge, Mean Girls... we get it. We promise. Investors want some security in an extremely and notoriously insecure market before they're willing to lay out the dough.

I get it. Everybody gets it.

And, to be fair, some of those shows are and continue to be GOOD. Tony nominees and award winners, even. But here's the problem: it's boring.

And not because I know how Act 2 ends without getting spoilers on tumblr. Unless they're younger than ten, the population of Broadway-and-musicals fans generally has a good handle on where a show's relevant plotlines are going. It's really not the wanting to know the end that keeps your butt in your overpriced red velvet seat and your eyes on the stage. It's the score, the words, occasionally the choreography, and most importantly the magicians on, off, and backstage bringing those things to life in a new and interesting way.

The antithesis of this, then, is having to watch slavish recreation of iconic scenes, lines, and characters from iconic films, presented Onstage! (TM), now with Bonus Songs! for your reconsumption. (Yes, Pretty Woman, I'm looking at you.)

Hey, I love Pretty Woman the Movie, slightly dodgy messages about feminity aside. I love it as a movie, and I really don't need to watch the knock off version of it, even if it comes in a shiny Broadway package.

Anastasia, and Beetlejuice, on the other hand, work extrodinarily well as musicals because they are NOT carbon copies of the original, somehow miraculously transplanted onto the stage.

Ironically, musicals based on original ideas are actually some of the most successful and well reviewed recent productions. Hamilton, Dear Evan Hansen, Come From Away, and Hadestown this season are all original works, and well, look at them. (Fishy, huh? Coincidence, I think the fuck not.)

Recently I got to see The Prom on Broadway, the day after I saw Pretty Woman. The contrast between shows and my enjoyment of them was well defined. I couldn't look away from The Prom, despite many of the major story beats being as obvious as our Cheeto-in-Chief's spray tan. I and the entire rest of the theater were completely engaged by what was going on onstage, both comedically and dramatically. At Pretty Woman, I found myself checking the Playbill to see how many songs were left for me to make it through and anxiously comparing the size of my thighs to the dancers onstage to pass the time (ah, pre pro Body Issues, welcome back! We all thought you'd retired!)

Three guesses which show I'd choose to see again.

When I read that Waitress was closing, the first thing I did was panic and start marking pre January weekends where I would both be free and possibly have disposable income (I've never gotten to see the show, and frankly I would like too). My second reaction was, yes, to mourn the closure of a wonderful show, but it was mixed with hopeful anticipation. Waitress had a good long time in the sun, and just like a well lived life, eventually it must and should end. It's better, in my humble student opinion, to live with memories and cast albums (and regional productions) than the stodgy life of a show that's jealously clung to its Broadway berth through the tourist-and-date-night trade (*cough*Phantom*cough*). It's sort of like your 40 something mother taking selfies in booty shorts in an effort to prove she's still 'hip' and in her twenties. Cringe.

Ephemera is the nature of live performance, and probably part of its allure. And just like in the natural world, old things have to end so that new things can become. Waitress closing is a vital part of this cycle.

Broadway has a limited number of theaters. That's a hard and absolute fact. Maybe a quarter of them are effectively taken off the market for new shows by productions apparently cursed with immortality. Waitress has just opened up another spot both physically and creatively for a new project- hopefully something we haven't seen before- and I hope to God, Satan, and Sondheim that it doesn't get filled with another franchise spinoff, celebrity jukebox musical, or -Lin Miranda forbid - yet another revival.

Why the revival hate, though? Aren't revivals an major way to revisit the landmark and important musicals of the past and bring them to a new audience?

Well, yes. They are, especially when they're staged and presented with the emphasis on letting the music and words speak for themselves and giving the actors leeway to work with the material, without the typical levels of Broadway Extra (TM) and creative meddling from the producers. (The recent Lincoln Center staging of A Chorus Line is a good example of the stripped down style I'm talking about.) But even if they have their place, once again, revivals (while valuable and cool and all that) are Something We've Already Seen.

Let's take Newsies for example. A show with a huge fan base (mostly teen, mostly girls) who I frequently see wishing for a revival.

Now, I am a raging Newsies fan. Newsies is the show that got me started on attempting to make a profession out of dance and theater. I can sing both the OBC and Live albums back to front. I may or may not have had embarrassing crushes on certain cast and characters that I will take to my grave (I'll never tell and you'll never know, mwahhaha). So, do I love and worship ever iteration of this show? Yes. Do I wish I had been able to see either the Natl Tour or Broadway productions? Hell yes, with all my heart. Do I wish the Gatelli choreography was in any way accessible for me to learn? More than I want Broadway tickets to cost less than my soul, kidney, and hypothetical but unlikely first born combined.

But do I want a Broadway revival? Hell FUCKING No.

It's over, it's done, and it lives on in reinterpretation in regional and junior productions. Good. That, to be quite honest, is where it should belong.

It doesn't need to be rehashed on the biggest stages, and to be frank, neither do most of the ultra popular revivals that have been happening. (Yes, Ali Stoker is awesome and deserves the world, but Broadway does not need Oklahoma. If you need to see it that bad, go find a high school production somewhere. I recommend the midwest.) Broadway does not need 1776 (even though I am looking forward to it). Broadway does not need a Sweeney Todd revival (even though I want one like I want ice cream after suffering through jazz class in an un-air-conditioned studio on a 90 degree afternoon with no breeze. Seriously, I might be making sacrifices at my altar to this cause in the back of my closet).

Broadway needs musicals that are at least nominally original, and if not, come from something obscure enough (Kinky Boots, Waitress, Newsies) that they can make their own way. Barring that, investors, writers, and directors, please have the courage and decency to take established content in a new direction. Please, I'm begging you. I'd honestly-and-truly much rather sit through something that didn't try to shove the better version of itself down my throat even as it bored and annoyed me to tears. If I'm going to pay $80+ to sit through two hours of something terrible (and less engaging than my dancer body image issues) at least let me get my money's worth in unique horribleness.

[theyearoftheking]

Book Sixteen: The Talisman

If there were ever the time to lose yourself in a dense, chonky fantasy novel... this is the time. I don’t want to admit how many hours were spent cuddling with my dogs and reading The Talisman this week. It was my favorite way to escape the insanity of the world right now.

To be clear, I don’t believe social distancing, and the cancelling of the entire world is insane. I’m speaking more to the people with their bunkers full of toilet paper and canned pears; stocking up on ammo, preparing to fight their governments. Just... stop. Color some pictures with your kid. Rake your yards. Have a beer and play Scrabble with your spouse. Crack open a book. Live your damn life without fear of what could happen next week! 

Ok, rant over. But seriously, keep washing those hands and social distancing yourselves. 

This was my second read of The Talisman, and it remains one of my all-time favorite books. Not just Steve books, but book-books in general. Like with The Stand, I’m going to give the most abridged, bastardized review ever... because there’s just too much to cram into one post. And I’m not ambitious enough to stretch it into two.  

Jack Sawyer (fun fact, the names of two of my favorite humans... Jack was my Grandfather, and Sawyer is my daughter) finds himself chilling at The Alhambra Inn and Gardens in New Hampshire with his mother, Queen of the B movies, Lily Sawyer. They’re on the run from the incessantly ringing phone, and constant calls from “Uncle” Morgan Sloat, who was Jack’s dead dad’s business partner. Spoiler: Uncle Morgan is a bad man. 

A word about The Alhambra... what initially pulled me into this book was the fact the old, abandoned hotel, beach, boardwalk and amusement park reminded me SO MUCH of Old Orchard Beach, Maine. When Steve (and Pete. I call him Pete) are describing the horses on the carousel, and the rickety old boardwalk, “This is where the world ends, right?” 

All the nostalgic feels of summers spend in OOB on the beach. Reading these pages, I could almost feel the crunchy beach towels, smell clam strips and fried dough, taste the cocktails I smuggle into my not-at-all suspicious Yeti mug... ALL THE FEELS!! 

And now a word about Lily Sawyer. One of the most memorable details about Lily is her “elementary martini,” which I will now describe for anyone who might need a cocktail during these challenging times. I’m pretending to be a homeschooling mom, so I’m going to take a hard pass. But we have Facetime Cocktail Time with friends tonight, so I might have to have one then. 

“Ice in a glass. Olive on ice. Tanqueray gin over olive... Then, you take a bottle of vermouth- any brand- and hold it against the glass. Then you put the vermouth back on the shelf and bring the glass to me.” 

Lily is spending a lot of time in bed, avoiding the phone, and fighting some kind of illness, which leaves Jack to his own devices. One day while Jack is out exploring, he makes the acquaintance of one Speedy Parker, the maintenance man at the amusement park. Speedy refers to Jack as, “Travelin’ Jack” which is what Jack’s dad used to call him when he was younger. But it’s more than just a cute nickname, it refers to the fact Jack can travel between our world, and The Territories, a Game of Thrones-esque medieval world. Speedy explains Laura DeLoessian, the Queen of the Territories is dying, and only Jack can save her by rescuing The Talisman. Laura is Lily Sawyer’s doppelganger, and if Jack saves Laura, he can also save his sick mother. Jack’s reluctant, but knows he has no other choice. Speedy hands him a vial of mysterious traveling juice that allows Jack to travel between worlds, and he’s off.

The journey is a long one, and filled with some of the best characters ever, as well as some of the worst baddies. And all their Territories doppelgangers. I’m not going to lie, it’s a lot of people to keep track of. No shade if you need to develop a spreadsheet to keep track of everyone. The OCD freak in me immediately regrets NOT creating a spreadsheet... 

My hands-down favorite character (other than Jack Sawyer) is Wolf, a well, Wolf, that Jack meets in The Territories. When they are under attack from Morgan Sloat’s Territories Twin, Jack flips him and Wolf into our world. Wolf does not adjust well. He hates the way everything smells, he can’t be in a confined space, and oh! I forgot to mention... he’s also a werewolf. I’ll talk more about Wolf’s character arch later on when I get to Sunshine Gardener. 

Everyone loves an evil character, and The Talisman has no shortage of them. My favorite Talisman baddies included Smokey Updike and Sunshine Gardener, 

Smokey owns Updike’s Oatley Tap, and hires Jack to come and work for him. Jack is on the move across the country, and needs some cash in his pocket for food and shoes... because he’s been wearing them out an alarming rate. Walking across the country will do that to you. But the fact Smokey would hire a CHILD to haul beer kegs, and mop up vomit in bathrooms pretty much tells you what kind of winner he really is. To add to his charm, he has Jack sleep on a concrete floor, slaps him around, and deducts room and board from the meager amount he pays him every week. And he threatens Jack with calling the cops and reporting him as a runaway if he tries to leave. Jack can’t have that happen. His evil Uncle Morgan knows he’s flipping between worlds, and doesn’t want Jack to get The Talisman, so he’s in pursuit of his quasi-nephew. Sooo basically Smokey’s got Jack as an indentured servant. He’s charming. One night, Jack can’t take the vomit coated floors anymore, and takes off into the night, with the help of Speedy’s traveling juice. Adios, Oatley! 

Sunshine Gardener... there’s a villain who makes Smokey look like someone’s cuddly uncle. Sunshine is a televangelist who also runs Sunlight Home for wayward boys. Sunshine has a sweet deal going: local cops pick up runaway boys, and the judge sentences them to a stay at Sunlight Home. They get paid under the table for adding to the flock, and Sunshine gets to write it off on his taxes every year. Or something like that. He’s obsessed with Jack, and swears they’ve met before (they have. In The Territories. But Jack isn’t about to tell him that). He (and his little band of assholes) proceed to torture Jack, and try to get the truth out of him. Jack resists. Eventually, he and Wolf are caught in the bathrooms, trying to flip over to The Territories. They put Wolf in a coffin-like box in the backyard, where he eventually transforms into a werewolf and kills (almost) everyone in a bloody rage, before he’s shot. I’m not ashamed to admit I cried as Wolf died in Jack’s arms, telling him, “I...kept...my...herd...safe...” 

Yep, I’m bawling all over again. The concept of keeping the herd safe is so important right now. I want to kill these asshole kids on spring break, wanting to live their best life ever. Stop it, you entitled little bitches! Help to keep your herd safe! Social distancing won’t kill you! As my little family is tucked in with a refrigerator and freezer full of food, board games and books on the shelves, and a full wine cellar, all I can think about is keeping my herd safe. Ain’t nothing bringing me out of my house! Except my asshole beagle, who needs two walks a day, to prevent her from eating my dresser. 

Ultimately, Jack outsmarts his Uncle Morgan, gets The Talisman, this glowing ball of light from The Black Hotel; all the baddies get theirs, and Jack heals both his mother and Laura. And they all live happily ever after. Well, until Black House. But that’s a long ways off. 

The entire book is brilliant, and exactly the escape I needed. Steve and Pete are a lethal combination; they successfully weave together horror and fantasy, making you feel Jack’s struggle as if it were your own. You can tell they’re both students of the great Ray Bradbury, they write about the echos between worlds, which mirrored A Sound of Thunder. “...it suggested that just by being over here he could be doing something terrible in the other world. Starting World War III? No, probably not. He hadn’t assassinated any kings lately, young or old. But how much had it taken to set up the echo?” 

Also, their author photo cracks me up. It looks like an IBM promotional shot from the 1980′s or something. 

There were no Wisconsin references, but the book was one, big, underlying Dark Tower reference. There was talk of trains (Blaine, y’all!). Jake and his friend Richard refer to each other as chums (lobstrosities... shudder!). A building named Rainbird Towers collapses (collapsing towers. Duh). I can’t wait to get to the other books in the series. 

Total Wisconsin Mentions: 14

Total Dark Tower References: 10

Book Grade: A+

Rebecca’s Definitive Ranking of Stephen King Books

The Talisman: A+

Different Seasons: A+

The Shining: A-

The Stand: A-

The Dead Zone: B+

‘Salem’s Lot: B+

Carrie: B+

Creepshow: B+

Cycle of the Werewolf: B-

Danse Macabre: B-

The Gunslinger: C+

Pet Sematary: C+

Firestarter: C+

Cujo: C-

Nightshift: C-

Christine: D

Next up is Skeleton Crew. We all know how I feel about short stories, but it might be a nice palate cleanser after the denseness (is that a word? Spellcheck didn’t flag it, so we’re going to go with YES) that was The Talisman. 

Long Days & Pleasant Nights, Rebecca