#good job as always !! i had such a blast reading this post in script and live ver uuuuu <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[siegecraft]

Defining spaces, work-play separation, and avoiding TTRPG burnout.

I’ve seen a lot of folks in indie TTRPGs talk about overlapping issues and experiences around feeling burned out, not being able to keep up with new games, playing games starting to feel—or actually being—always for work rather than for fun.

I have begun to think of this issue as a game is never just a game. Not in the sense that it can’t be, but that many people working in TTRPGs in some capacity don’t allow it to be. Play has become the secondary function, because the game's primary function is no longer play, but something else. Be that a playtest, an Actual Play (AP) recording, a charity stream, content creation fodder (a review, a blog post, a video essay), a self-imposed obligation to stay on top of industry trends, etc. Because it is for work rather than play, the game is no longer play.

My firmly held litany against that is twofold:

1. Name the purpose of the game.

A playtest or AP can be fun, but you can't trick yourself into believing that that instance of play is for the sake of it. There’s a book I love called The Art of Gathering: How We Meet and Why It Matters by Priya Parker. One of the key takeaways is to be deeply intentional, for yourself and for the people joining you, in defining why you have gathered together. What does this do?

It frees you from the mismatched expectations that inevitably emerge when intentions are not set. The rules and expectations for a playtest are not the same as they are for play’s sake, so get everyone on the same page.

It allows you to fully take advantage of this instance of play for its primary function. Letting go of the notion that you’re “just” playing a game lets you set expectations different from those in a space where you’re playing for play’s sake.

Whenever I playtest, be that for one hour or an intended campaign, I am extremely candid with my playtesters about what I need from them. That the expectations of the space are different than when we play together for fun.

I ran a six-hour playtest of The Prince of Nothing Good a few weekends ago. If I was just running a game for fun, I would consider that a nightmare of a game length! I would never do that to my players!

But everyone had a blast with this playtest. Because we had set aside the entire day for that purpose, and said we’d play until it was done. Everyone came in with the goal of helping me iron out some kinks in the game, and was excited to do it. And that wouldn’t have been possible without defining why we were gathering at that moment, and what we were doing to make mode of gathering work for us (dedicated time, many short breaks, blanket permission to get up from the table to meet movement/food/bio needs, I bought everyone lunch).   

2. Protect your time to play for the sake of play.

I believe the quickest way to kill your enjoyment of something is by making every instance of partaking in it work.

I’m aware there are Actual Play professionals who only play games as part of their jobs and not in their personal lives. That’s great for them, if they’ve figured out how to enjoy it (or earn enough money doing so that it doesn’t matter if they do), but the overwhelming majority of people in the game industry are simply not earning “only doing it for work” money. And until you are—and for most people in games, that will be never—you need to allow yourself time to just play games.

I’ve run a weekly home game since I got into TTRPGs, and I consider that space is sacred. Some of the players help me playtest outside of that game, but that weekly meeting is just for play, not work. Dedicating time for play to just be play makes it possible for it to be other things, too.  

I’ve never experienced anything consider close to the TTRPG burnout, exhaustion, and frustration that I’ve heard many people talk about. I’ve done it to myself with other things! I used to read and evaluate theatre scripts for work. I’ve read literally hundreds of plays. And there was a whole chunk of time where I was still doing that and I absolutely dreaded reading plays. A friend invited me to a play reading group during the pandemic and I had to decline because reading plays was synonymous with evaluating them for what was honestly not enough money to do it.

So I just stopped. I don’t read scripts for pay anymore, and I stopped reading them for fun too, because I was at a place of deficit where even doing it “just” for fun was not appealing. I’m only now getting to a place where I am interested in reading theatrical work again. It is much harder to get back to a place of enjoyment than it is to never depart in the first place.

[seelestia]

I CANNOT GET ENOUGH OF THIS. the way i can almost taste the passive aggressiveness and yandereness dripping behind most of these voicelines, aaaaaa.

this post has also reawakened the thoma kisser in me. heizou and ayato may offer me a mutual intellectual spark, but thoma being the definition of comfort and trust HAS COME TO RECLAIM ME. ty for unintentionally bestowing this revelation upon me, rin 🙏 (/lh)

madly in ̵l̷ov̸?̶e¿ voicelines

◇ ✨live✨ version (click to view)

◇ script version (under the cut)

(+bonus! heizou ー it's too bad i can't find his video :c ) same notes as this post for the live voicelines

| About [name]

Ah... Yes. Aren't they endearing?

Hm? I look... upset? My apologies. Please don't worry, as long as you don't harbor any... foul intent towards them, my blade will remain sheathed. You must have known by this point that I don't care for needless confrontations.

| Your Relationship

The protector and the protected would be the best description, I suppose. I try to be the best shelter that I could ever become for the tired dove that they are. A safe space to return to, someone to call home.

... Or at least, this is what I wish to become. My sweet [name] tells me that my protection suffocates them sometimes, but in this ruthless world where the gods will not hesitate to strike their subjects down, can you truly fault someone's desire to protect what is most important to them?

| Competitors

If there is anything I've learned from my life of wandering, it's that obstacles will always present themselves in one's journey. And to move forward, we must eradicate them, lest they ambush us in the future. Don't you agree?

| Would you ever let go?

I'm sure you, who have experienced losses in your journeys, will be able to relate to me when I say that... At a certain point, one will slowly become accustomed to separation and rejections. But do you know what lies past the grief and the numbness when you think it couldn't possibly get worse?

*chuckles* I'm afraid... I have gotten past that point.

| About [name]

Mm? Yes, what about my darling [name]?

Tread carefully now, comrade~ *chuckle*

| Your Relationship

Utterly head over heels, madly invested in each other, completely in love, and is in a loving relationship! Ahaha, don't give me that look! You were the one who asked!

Alright, alright, since you asked nicely... [name] has been with me for as long as I remember, actually. We were neighbors, and we kept in touch even after I joined the Fatui. They stuck by me through thick and thin, always smiling when they greeted me back at the village, despite knowing what I do for a living...

Tell me, how can one not fall in love with someone like that? Such a pure, untainted soul... Being around them feels like I've committed an unforgivable sin in itself, but alas, I've been utterly smitten and I can't exactly remember how to get out of this maze called love anymore. So I guess I'm staying for good, haha!

| Competitors

Ah, of course, there were many, many insects swarming around such beauty... The only irritating thing about it is that none of them - not even a single one - was a fun hunt! Can you believe it?? I've probably gone through a hundred of them by this point, but none makes a worthy opponent! *sigh* Life's hard when you're just too strong...

*grin* Speaking of which, how about it, Traveler? If you're free, why don't we do some sparring~?

| Would you ever let go?

Ahahaha! Comrade, you sure like to joke around...

Perhaps. If you can pry them off my dead body.

| About [name]

[name]? Yes, of course I know them. What do you think about them, Traveler?

Oh? My smile looks scary? I'm not sure what you mean by that, this is my usual smile. *chuckles* Why, have you done something that will potentially incur my wrath? Something like... taking a romantic interest towards my dear fiancé, perhaps?

That's not the case? Well, then, I believe there's nothing you should worry about!

| Your Relationship

[name] has stayed with me throughout my darkest hours. They... gave me much-needed comfort, when I had to take the mantle of the head of the clan. Though it is something I have prepared for my whole life, it was a rather sudden change, and the transition was abrupt. Coupled with the fact that there was no room for mistakes... Yes, I could never thank them enough.

I believe we've developed a deep bond because of it all. So, it's only natural that I repay them by providing them with the best luxuries and the safest shelter to call home. And as the spouse of the head of the Kamisato clan, they won't ever lack anything!

| Competitors

-and make sure to do it without any trace, as usual. You are dismissed.

... Hm? Oh, Traveler. To what do I owe the pleasure?

| Would you ever let go?

My, I'm afraid I'll need context on this one. If this is about my position as the head of my household clan, I would rather not, but I believe Ayaka will become a fine head in my place. If you're talking about the Shuumatsuban, it will undoubtedly cause a few issues. Still, I should manage to hire some elite private mercenaries in their stead, though it would not be preferable.

And if this is concerning [name], then the answer is rather simple:

No.

| About [name]

*smiles* [name] is my greatest treasure. I'm quite sure you've noticed the fondness I hold towards them. I can talk about them all day.

They are a kind one, for starters. Always wishing and striving to please everyone, sometimes to the point that they forgot about themselves. No matter in whichever lives, no matter their position... This aspect of them never changed. It worries me so. Yet, forcibly stripping this away from them would mean that I am rejecting who they are as a person. And that is not what I wish to do.

I'd like to think that I'm protecting them, by making sure that no one tries to take advantage of their kind nature. After all, is it not the job of a lover to make sure their beloved is safe and sound?

| Your Relationship

Would you believe me when I say that I have been in love with them for thousands of years? *chuckles* 

Be it Rex Lapis, Morax, or Zhongli... They have a firm hold of my heart. So it's only fair that I do so in return, don't you think?

| Competitors

As much as I would find it liberating to subdue those who do not deserve their attention, let alone be allowed to lay sight on them... I cannot.

We would not want the seas of Liyue Harbor to turn red from all the blood. It would be unhygienic.

| Would you ever let go?

..... All I wish for is for [name] to be safe.

And the safest place in all Teyvat is by my side.

| About [name]

Oh, did you meet [name]? I suppose you've been frequenting the Kamisato residence lately... What did you think about them?

Hmm, I see, I see! The young miss introduced the two of you! ... .That's fine then.

Aren't they really nice? Did they talk about me? I have some time to spare, so we can sit down for some tea! Why don't you tell me all about it over some tea time snacks?

| Your Relationship

"The perfect couple"? R-Really? Do people really say that? Aw, geez, that's kinda embarrassing, but it makes me happy that people recognize how well we get along with each other, haha!

[name] could be a little stubborn sometimes, but they're just the sweetest! *giggle* Oh, and don't worry, when we get married one day, I'll be sure to invite you as one of the guests!

| Competitors

*strained laugh* Uhm, well, I can't deny that there are a lot of people around us, and with me being busy tending to the Kamisato siblings' needs, there isn't enough time for me to regularly check on them...

B-But, the young master has been really kind, so I really have nothing to worry about! Huh? What kind of help did he provide? Well, there are numerous things, really. For example... He's provided me with an adequate living section in the Kamisato residence, since I'm the young miss' retainer, and he allowed [name] to reside there! Just normal things, you know? Man, I sure am glad I work for a really accommodating boss!

| Would you ever let go?

You know, my mom used to say, if you truly love someone, you should always keep them close to your heart... And I agree wholeheartedly with her! Plus, [name] enjoys my company very much, why would I 'let them go'?

| About [name]

My adorable significant other! What's this, are you investigating them for some reason, Traveler? I assure you, their background is completely clean, with no dirt in sight! I made sure of it, afterall~

Eh? What does that mean? Haha, who knows~

| Your Relationship

It's like a game of cat and mouse, most of the time. I find it mentally stimulating! They always love to test my intelligence by going into hiding somewhere, waiting for me to catch them! Isn't that cute? It's thrilling and keeps me on my toes, that's for sure! They're always so creative about it, too...

I do get worried from time to time, though. I mean, they might get hurt out there while they look for a hiding place... So if you ever spot them out there in any dangerous areas - which they're prone to wander off to - let me know straight away, okay? It might sound like I'm cheating by asking this from a lot of people, but I'd rather have [name] safe and my detective pride bruised rather than have them get hurt, or worse...

| Competitors

Now, see, to make a fair competition, the two candidates must have an equal footing with each other. However, I have yet to see someone who is as interested in [name] as I am, who is just as smart, good-looking, attentive, and capable as me - and to top it all off, have the ability and courage to do whatever it takes to ensure their safety and comfort! So there isn't really any competition going on here, is there?

| Would you ever let go?

Haha, is that a serious question?

Look here partner - a detective worth their salt will chase its target until the end of the world. Now, I'm not saying [name] is a criminal or anything like that, but all I'm saying is...

... I'm not the type who would let my prey get away, you see.

And it's not like I have a shortage of handcuffs to use, haha!

[give-soup-please]

Ever since I started gathering voice clips of the narrator in the Dungeons games, I've been having waaay too much fun with the concept that that is where he went off to while being skip button'd, or after the figurine ending/epilogue. So I figured this would be a fun prompt to send you. The narrator is hard at work at his new job of narrating the Dungeons games only to realize at some point that the player is the same one who was playing TSP before a certain skip button happened, and/or when he decided to retire Stanley. I'll leave it up to you to decide how this plays out. Consider this platonic or romantic, although given that clip you reblogged, uuuhhh, romantic may be the way to go, 'cause boy does that dude drop his guard like nobody's business when you beat a final boss, apparently lol. (God, that clip still has me laughing. Spat out my drink the first time I heard it.)

(Oh, that clip. Good lord I turned into a blushing mess when I first heard it. If you (readers) haven't already, listen to it. I'll link it at the end of this post.)

The narrator discovering the same player again in a different game (romantic)

Yeah, the narrator had been crushing on you for a while. You were quite a sweet player, all told. Not the most obedient, but he always sensed your amusement and vague feelings of friendship. He can read into Stanley’s thoughts fairly well, (assuming it’s not just his own projections.) It’s not that much of a reach for him to sense the person behind Stanley’s actions.

He admires you, secretly. He wouldn’t be able to verbalize why. Maybe it’s the way he can feel your amusement at his jokes, or your sympathy as he struggles to tell his story. You’re empathizing with a fiction, spending time with someone who isn’t quite as real as he’d like to be. 

The two of you bumble along, having a good time, like always, being friends and having fun. Even if you do drag along that damnable bucket from time to time. Things are perfect.

But… He really should move on from the parable. It’s not a matter of the parable having gone stale, far from it. He’s always egged both himself and Stanley on, thinking ‘just one more run’, or something similar. 

Between the skip button and other similar developments, he’s grown as a person quite a bit. He’s mellowed out a little, and become more kind around the edges. He’s changed, but the parable remains forever static, an intentional part of its design. He’s honestly, authentically, ready to go.

The truth is, leaving the parable isn’t as hard as leaving you. You’ll never hear him admit to it, but… it is what it is. He is who he is, and you- You are wonderfully, beautifully you. He sighs. There’s definitely some lingering remorse. He says that he’ll give the story one more run, then retire it for good.

And then- Out of all possible endings you could take for his last retelling, out of every single choice- You take the freedom ending. One last perfect run. You skip past the broom closet, you wait for him to instruct you on which numbers fit in the keypad, no delays or false paths taken.

After everything the two of you have been through, you’re giving him the best send off he could ask for. He’s never cried happy tears before, but he definitely gets close as he gives out his last narration. The world fades to white, and then the black of the loading screen. He wants to make sure you have company. You’ve given him that, it’s the least he could do in return.

So he leaves behind a copy of himself, one that’s not aware of the player. 

The copy is just like him in every way, just less self aware. It doesn’t have any memories of his decision to leave. It will provide entertainment as best it can. But it won’t be him. And it will not love you like he does. He doesn’t want competition. Let him have that one selfish thought, please. He doesn’t want anyone else to fall in love with you.

Months pass. Maybe years. He takes on other narration jobs, and has an absolute blast. It’s enjoyable, having someone else come up with a script instead of him. He gets to relax, and narrate to his heart’s content. People clamor for his voice, and he doesn’t have to put any of the effort into coming up with words. It’s perfect.

A script lands on his desk for a game series called ‘Dungeons’. He shrugs his metaphysical shoulders. Seemed like an easy gig, why not?

He inhabits the game, and narrates to his heart’s content. He watches players come and go, and thinks about you often. His throat hurts every time he does. 

Ah. Another new player arrives. He cracks his knuckles, and distantly wonders whether this one will complete the game, or stop before they make it that far.

He does his job to the best of his ability. He always does- he’s a professional after all. He gives the standard opening lines, and the two of you progress through the game, just like old times.

There’s something achingly familiar about you, but the narrator does his best to not be rattled.

He’s moved on from his own game, but certainly not from you.

Then he delivers a witty bit of dialogue, perfectly salted and sarcastic, and you laugh. Your presence is filled with amusement, with joy, and he knows it’s you. No one else had the same essence. The same spirit, colored with different emotions.

He has a bit of a positive breakdown, and tries to keep his narration even.

Here? Now? Of all times and all places? This had to be proof. This had to mean something. He holds his tongue, difficult though it is. He’s elated on the inside. You’ve got the same setup you’ve always had, headset with mic attached. He listens to you react to him, and is filled with pure bliss.

His jaw drops as you dedicatedly play through the game, never faltering, never giving up. Sometimes friends of yours will visit, and crack jokes about what you’re doing. You say to them, “Hell yeah, I’m having a great time. I can’t believe it’s the same narrator. It’s so nice to hear new dialogue again. You watch, I’m not going to stop until I’ve heard everything.”

If he had a physical form, he would be blushing. He’s astounded. The amount of pure joy he’s feeling right now is beyond description. He watches you smash through enemies and beat levels with a dedication he rarely sees.

And then, you beat the final boss. His normal dialogue is to just congratulate the player, plain and simple. The end, roll credits. For the first time he can remember, he tosses his script aside and does something off the cuff.

“Yes! Wow! You did it! Forget about talking to you in the third person crap, you really did it! Incredible! I could hug you, I could kiss you, but hey, I’m just a voice in a video game…”

You roar with laughter and delight, and your face heats up a little. “Hah! I wish.” 

He freezes. That’s the closest thing he’ll ever get to a confirmation. He has to press forward.

“Oh, really~?” He purrs. You choke on your drink. “W-woah, that almost sounded like a direct response-”

“Stranger things have happened, reader.”

You cringe at yourself for taking a chance that would make you look ridiculous if anyone else was in the room with you. “Is… Is it really you? Not just a narrator, the narrator. From The Stanley Parable. I mean, hell- i’d recognize your voice anywhere, but- is- are you all of… you?” It’s not the best way to phrase it, you know. 

He rolls his eyes affectionately. “Of course it’s me. Why, with a voice as distinguished and excellent as mine-” You cut off his boasting with another laugh. He never gets tired of hearing it.

You start to tease him back. “Alright, well, you seemed pretty interested in kissing me earlier. I’m not one for long distance relationships, but I’m sure I can make this work.”

“Erm- Well- I-” His brain is malfunctioning. “I- I can try something. Put your lips to the screen.”

You do. There's a slight static buzz from your computer. Your lips are zapped. You pull back. “Uh-”       

“Oops. That was a stronger pulse than I wanted it to be. Still, I do find your presence rather… Electrifying.”

You say nothing for a few moments. “Well, this has been fun, but-”

“No, no, no, no, come back!” You’re trying your best to hold in your laughter.

So begins one of the oddest relationships you’ve ever had. 

[adultswim2021]

Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law #1: "Bannon Custody Battle" December 30, 2000 - 4:30AM | S01E01 Welcome to the first episode of Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law, the first show on Adult Swim’s roster that I rejected as a substandard product. It should’ve been the Brak Show. In the opening episode, Birdman takes a case from Dr. Benton Quest, better known as Jonny Quest’s father. Race Bannon is fighting for custody of the boy, arguing that he’s a much better, much more present father figure to Jonny. Harvey Birdman was first conceptualized with an episode of Space Ghost Coast to Coast. In the episode “Pilot” we’re shown a supposed disastrous pilot episode of “Coast to Coast” where Birdman was originally attached as the star. Birdman, a depressive, out-of-work super hero, utterly botches the job as his inability to host a late-night show due to his deriving all his powers from the sun becomes more apparent. The character recurs a few more times, most notably in the episode “Sequel”, where Birdman guest-hosts the show. Still, to call this a proper Space Ghost spin-off requires carrying a big asterisk along with it. The character name “Harvey Birdman” was invented for Space Ghost, but besides both being based on the old 60s Birdman Hanna-Barbera show, they have little to do with one another. One would get almost nothing out of watching the original Space Ghost episodes before watching this (except for, you know, getting to see episodes of a much funnier show).

So in Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law you have one 60s Hanna-Barbera character as a lawyer taking court cases from various other Hanna-Barbera characters, usually of a similar vintage. In this particular episode we’re treated to a lot of jokes about the homoerotic subtext of Jonny Quest, specifically the relationship between Race Bannon and Benton Quest. The writers decide to tastefully side-step the seemingly pederast relationship between Race and Jonny. Watching the original Jonny Quest with the same attempt to subvert and recontextualize the relationships between the characters through a modern lens, a certain type of observer would probably note the amount of shirtless roughhousing Race does with Jonny. Speaking of watching Jonny Quest: I have to admit something: I never really watched Jonny Quest at all before writing this blog. I’ve had an interest in older shows and cartoons my entire life, but the entire genre of action cartoon didn’t appeal to me whatsoever when I was a kid. So last night I watched my first episode of Jonny Quest, in glorious 1080p on my new 4K television; a format it was never EVER intended to be viewed in. Jonny Quest is objectively junk. It’s fun, boyish, escapist entertainment, and there’s a lot of good irony in it, especially with it’s antiquated portrayal of other cultures from a bygone era when we were far less connected to the rest of the world. It has limited animation and simplistic design. The backgrounds look like they were painted on a post-it-note and most of the men are drawn to look like reskinned versions of Race Bannon. But there’s at least something a LITTLE charming about it. In fact, there was one moment of beautifully scripted action that absolutely won me over: Race and Jonny’s speed boat goes airborne briefly and crushes the bad guy’s boat from above as they speed towards one another. I nearly cheered when it happened. I knew The Venture Bros took liberally from Jonny Quest, but the coolest action sequences on that show seemed to be striving for the same exact visceral reaction I got from seeing Race crunch up some lizard men on a boat. Birdman is a similar deal: He was a cookie-cutter imitation of comic book heroes from the silver-age of comics (the obvious comparison here is DC’s Hawkman). I actually did watch a Birdman adventure late last night as I was falling asleep to follow up on Jonny Quest, but it felt less important. I can remember checking out the original Birdman on DVD not too long ago. Also, your typical Harvey Birdman usually focuses on jokes about shows other than Birdman. Still, it’s neat to see those characters in their original context, as well as that Hanna-Barbera stock-explosion animation we all know and love from Space Ghost blowing up Zorak on Coast-to-Coast. Also the episode I watched will be heavily referenced later, but not for this. I only watched the first episode of Jonny Quest taking a cue from my friend Kon who noted that most of the references in “Bannon Custody Battle” are directly from the first episode. The most specific (and funniest) scene in the whole show involves the Lizard Men, the main villains of that first installment. Other characters show up very briefly, and are all ones that appear in the opening sequence. Unless I find out differently (I’ll probably try to make my way through the rest of Quest in preparation for Venture Bros.), it really does seem like the writers just watched the first episode of Jonny Quest to write this show. Watching this episode of Harvey Birdman was like batting away an existential crisis. I remember vaguely at the time not being SUPER hot on this show, but I cut it a lot of slack and trusted that it would simply get funnier. I wanted to love all the shows on Adult Swim. Anyway, I went from being lukewarm on Birdman, to hating it. Reading my own earlier review of Birdman I blasted this episode for being homophobic. I used to have a very low tolerance for gay jokes, back when they were highly in fashion. But now that we live an era where there’s an arms race to find new ways to scold one another for perceived slights gay jokes can sometimes, NOT ALWAYS, be a little refreshing to hear. The fact that my stance on gay jokes can change as long as it’s in direct-opposition with the rest of the world is at least a little troubling. Does this mean I’m an inauthentic reactionary? Yes. Yes it does. There, I admitted it. Now, let me off the hook, please. I say that sorta jokingly. The gay jokes in this are mostly pretty lame, and come off like Mike Scully-era Simpsons gay jokes. The early scene at the beginning where Birdman eyes widen when he’s misunderstanding the nature of Dr. Quest’s and Race Bannon’s relationship really does come off as early 90′s homophobia. I remember it seemed out of place at the time. I’m sure it played just fine in the midwest, but the show didn’t really put it’s best foot forward with that. Speaking of lame jokes, this episode has a few that have nothing to do with insulting gay people. One of my least favorite bits involve the specific gag of undercutting a dramatic moment with characters fumbling around awkwardly in true-to-life fashion. Why, if a person tried to recreate a dramatic sting you’d see before a commercial break in real life, you’re right, it’d probably go awkwardly! But this 11 minute show has at least 3 explicit examples of this, and it’s only mildly amusing once:

Bannon dramatically walks out on Dr. Quest, after announcing his intention to take Jonny with him. He awkwardly comes back because he forgot his keys

Birdman dramatically argues with a rival prosecutor and summons his personal digital assistant, and then awkwardly fumbles with it

Birdman proves that the Race Bannon on the witness stand is actually a robot by unplugging him, but he accidentally pulls the wrong cord and has to spend a few seconds untangling and retracing the correct cord.

Another thing about Birdman is that there is usually a lack of strong jokes. The show usually includes a layer of comedy where there are simply characters who simply have odd, scattered speech patterns or odd ticks. The rival lawyer in this slurs his speech in a particular way: cut to the jury looking confused. That’s the joke. The Judge grumbles in an ornery fashion and generally acts like he doesn’t wanna be there. He says stuff that sounds like bad improv. That’s the joke. The show will only ocassionally come up with jokes to justify these character traits. It’s just silliness that doesn’t usually go anywhere. But, I do kinda like some things about this episode. It was animated by J.J. Sedelmaier, known for early digital animation seen in the crude era of Beavis and Butt-head and SNL’s TV Funhouse. They really do have their own style of comic timing, and there are some gags in this where the animation works in their favor. There are some jokes where the drawings really sell the comedy. I’m not sure if I liked this animation better or worse, but it does match the oddly-stilted Jonny Quest animation better than the episodes that came after this would have. Oh, one of the funniest bits not on the show was when I popped in the DVD I forgot that the menu music is Wesley Willis’ “Birdman Kicked My Ass”. If I were in high school when the DVD came out I would have loved it just for that reason. Same could be said “Jonny Quest Thinks We’re Sell-Outs” by Less Than Jake. I was an easily impressed kid.

[ty-talks-comics]

Best of Marvel: Week of February 5th, 2020

Best of this Week: Miles Morales: Spider-Man #15 (Legacy #255) - Saladin Ahmed, Javier Garrón, David Curiel and Cory Petit 

I had a really difficult time choosing between this and X-Men/Fantastic Four #1.

Both stories were great this week and I was tempted to choose the latter because up to this point, I hadn't really been enjoying this Spider-Man run very much. Of course, here we are though. There was just something about how this issue pulled everything together that made me appreciate the story that Saladin Ahmed set out to tell and how Miles is finally growing into the hero that fans always knew he was. Everything just felt so right amidst this roller coaster of an “Ultimatum” arc.  Even in the face of tremendous adversity Miles overcomes.

Throughout this series, Ahmed has been sprinkling small bits of an arc to readers with Miles constantly being late for class, tired and even being placed on academic probation by his Principal, Mr. Dutcher. Of course it's easy to paint Dutcher as potentially a racist due to how much he's had it in for Miles throughout the story, almost to very ludicrous points in his attempts to kick Miles out of the school. Things seek to finally take a turn when we find out that Dutcher found the notebook that Miles had been writing in with all of his Spider-Man adventure thoughts.

Garrón makes sure to draw Dutcher with the worst, "I've got your ass now" looks I've ever seen with one hand placed in his underarm while he taunts Miles with his journal. Curiel colors things ominously with light shadows going over most of his face as he prepares to ream Miles, but suddenly Brooklyn Visions, Miles' school, is attacked by a horde of new Green Goblins. Garrón makes them look threatening as hell as they terrorize the student body and the teachers with destroyed cars and fire in the background.

Without hesitation, Miles tries to swoop in and save them, but the Goblins find him and Dutcher, rounding them up with the rest of the hostages. The leader Goblin demands that the school hand over Spider-Man while threatening the staff. Garrón and Curiel sell this by portraying the Goblin as a towering beast with one green foot planted on the head of one of the teachers, his grey toenails curling over him. They’re certainly not as intimidating as the Main Green Goblin of the Ultimate Universe, but their numbers and power do cast as at least mildly formidable foes, at least for this issue.

One of the black teachers steps up and offers to remain the only hostage if they let the kids and other teachers go. I really like this character as I think he's the one that assigned the journal project and he's been acting as something of a mentor to Miles throughout. He really cares about his students and colleagues even though he's terrified and he's the first of many to inspire courage in this issue.

Just as the Goblin is about to absolutely RIP the teacher's head off, Dutcher steps up and says that his colleague doesn't know where Spider-Man is and says that he does. Everyone remembers that moment in the first Sam Raimi Spider-Man movie where J. Jonah Jameson risks his life for Peter so that he can escape - well, after giving a telling look to Miles, Dutcher claims that he himself Spider-Man before getting smacked into a wall. This is an amazing turning point for the character as we’ve only seen him be annoying and antagonistic to Miles the entire time that we’ve known him. With one small act of courage, he kinda reverses it all when he could have just given into his worse thoughts.

Garrón and Curiel frame this scene excellently with one shot of Miles looking at Dutcher, with a light shining on his face, almost wondering what the right decision is. He may not like Miles too much, but he couldn't forgive himself if he gave the boy up. We get another shot over Dutcher's shoulder, shadows covering the other side of his face and Miles looking at him, afraid that he could have his identity exposed and die right there. With no dialogue these two panels say more than any word balloons could.

Ganke, Miles' best friend, decides to launch another distraction for Miles to suit up and our hero swings in with an amazing splash page by Garrón and Curiel. The students cheer, the Goblins grit their teeth in anger and Miles takes a dynamic pose as his webs make an excellent line for the our eyes to follow from Miles arms, his heroic symbol and his gymnast legs getting ready to kick the crap out of evil. The black and red suit stands out amongst the mostly greens and browns of the page, putting the focus mainly on him.

For the most part, the rest of the issue is Garrón and Curiel showcasing Spider-Man's Goblin Slaying skill while they try to take him down. He crashes through the wall of the school and Garrón emphasizes the weight and speed of the fight with debris and skid marks as Miles knocks two of the Goblins out, making them revert to human form. There's also a really good shot of the leader Goblin chucking dumbbells and gymnast posts at Spider-Man.

Curiel does an amazing job of coloring the action as things move from the brown of the basketball court, to the blues of the indoor pool in which Garrón draws an amazing few panels of them fighting in the water. As per Curiel's coloring style the water is fluid and beautiful and then gets excellent lighting as Spider-Man Venom Blasts the Goblin in the middle of it all. 

Cory Petit deserves heaps of credit for giving this entire book life with his incredible lettering and even more so this fight sequence. His transparent CRASHes and ZZZZZTs sell both the intensity of Miles and the Goblin going through walls and the power of Spider-Man’s Venom Blasts respectively. I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the SPLASH as the Goblin falls into the pool or the transparent SLOSH that curves down the villain’s arm as he tries to punch at Miles in the water. 

The fight reaches its conclusion after Miles repeatedly kicks the Goblin in the face and finishes with an uppercut (Shoryuken!) over a red, pop-art background that could only have been made better with a POW sound effect. The Goblin, knowing he’s been defeated, jumps away and leaves Spider-Man until their next confrontation. Later on Miles and Mr. Dutcher resume their conversation from earlier and it is a far more tense situation, especially after all of the damage that occured to the school.

Surrounded by Curiel’s dim oranges from the fires raging in the background, Miles tries to explain all the things that he says in his Journal, but Mr. Dutcher calmly hands his student his journal back. Dutcher tells Miles that he “should report students engaging in dangerous activities to the administration,” but all that he read was a “fictional story.” For a moment, Dutcher gives Miles a look like he sees the fear on the young man’s face, but he rationalizes that if Miles hadn’t done what he did, there’s no telling if any of them would be alive.

Mr. Dutcher proves himself to be a trustworthy person because of the bravery that Miles showed him. Miles has saved Brooklyn, if not the whole of the world, many a time and he’s actually one of the more well liked Spider-People. Miles serves as an inspiration to the rest of Brooklyn Visions and the borough as a whole, but there’s also the downside of his presence. Somehow the Goblins were able to find out what school Spider-Man attended and that puts everyone in grave danger, so the question is… what will Miles do now? He did save the day and got taken off of academic probation, but the school is mostly in ruin. Much like Peter’s best victories, this one is pyrrhic.

Saladin Ahmed really knocked it out of the park with this issue. He does a really good job at scripting Miles and his supporting cast, making each of them seem courageous and sympathetic. Javier Garron and David Curiel’s art and colors have been some of the best parts of this run and they continue to stun with amazing visuals, making sure readers get really invested in the art and the story it tells along with the script.

I do also wonder if this story will play into the upcoming “Outlawed” event which sees teenaged superheroes getting banned from active operation after something terrible happens to Spider-Man friend, Kamala Khan aka. Ms. Marvel. The destruction of Brooklyn Visions could act as more fuel to the fire following this issue and it would be interesting to see how this could possibly contribute to that event. Maybe we’ll even see Miles unmask to the world? (Nah, it’s probably gonna be her, but who knows?) But I am excited at the very least for the rest of Ahmed’s run if the issues continue being this awesome.

[lzrdg0d]

Hello, losers.

While it's disappointing that Tumblr forces it's users to cater to children, resulting in a ban of adult content entirely -- I decided it's a better place to be than Twitter, as Tumblr makes it much easier to form the experience you want out of it, unless you're an adult with one arm that's significantly stronger than the other and that's all you care about, but I have countless places to gather from as is, so it's not a huge letdown...

Nevertheless, I'm here because sometimes I need an outlet for my venting, and I can also follow blogs that post things that look cool.

My interests are as follows:

I like computers because they're what I know best, I grew up using Linux on a very old machine my dad built although I didn't touch computers much until I was around 12 when I learned Javascript and had a blast, but wanted to know how and why I was able to make a light bulb image turn on and off with the click of a button, which almost instantly gave me chronic autism as I was learning how to do systems programming in C and some scripting in Python and Bash. Now I know how a computer works for the most part and I love building and repairing them, but programming is still just a hobby because I don't hate myself enough to get a job doing intensive, fragile engineering like that on a tight schedule.

I love fishing, it's always been a thing in my family and even though I fail to catch anything every fucking time, it's fun, relaxing, and gives me an excuse to go far away for a few hours. Nothing beats it.

I play games on my gaming laptop a lot (mostly Dwarf Fortress), but my favorite games have always been the classics like Chess and Pool. I went to a bar a week or so ago and destroyed a meth head hooker at Connect Four, and got a ring she got from a vending machine for it.

I love making things that are functional (and serve a purpose/make a task easier) and I hope one day I can leave a legacy by developing a humanoid robot with a complete AI that will clean your house, fill your pet's food bowl, talk to you after work, and go crazy on your dick. Until then I want to learn more about robotics (as I've been more of a software guy), so I can help to develop better, faster limbs for those that have lost the ones they were born with (or without, in rare cases), which will hopefully be even better than a real limb in some ways (360° wrist rotation, full control over individual fingers, etc).

My skills:

I make the best breakfast sandwiches, I'm pretty decent with computers (but Windows confuses me), I'm good at photography (although it's pretty easy, just have to learn like 5 things), I've been told I'm great at solving problems and I'm a firm believer there's always another way (pro tip: if you see a good move, look for a better one), and I can read people pretty well.

I don't talk a lot IRL, I find it exhausting, so when I talk to people it's really just me listening, and while I have my own opinions, I generally don't express them strongly and I pride myself in my ability to understand other people's views and expressions and how they came to believe what they do, because of this, talkative people with strong views tend to really like me and I gain trust very quickly because when I do talk, I'm polite, honest, and I'm told I'm "down to earth", which I still don't understand the meaning of, but I take it as a compliment.

I guess that's a good, long intro to who I am and my interests. Can't wait to blow some shit up tomorrow.

[jujuismental]

Grief

I’m here to talk about grief. Because I have a lot to say about it.

I was just about to start university/college in august of 2013 when I heard over the phone that my Dad had died. My dad was in another country. It was a hit and run. I never got to say goodbye and I couldn’t go to the funeral. Me and my mom were together at the time and we were in so much pain. I woke up the next morning wishing it was some sort of nightmare but it wasn’t.

My mom was heartbroken to grow old alone, I was in pain imagining the rest of my life without my Dad. Our entire family was falling apart, especially my brothers who had to take care of the funeral and hit and run court case. It truly felt like the pain was never going to go away. Every morning, every night, every birthday, every anniversary.

I still struggle today to talk about my Dad to others. It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s that people immediately want to cheer me up. They try to stop me from feeling sad. They say things like “Cheer up, don’t be sad, i’m sorry I brought it up”. They want me to let it go.. but I don’t want to let it go. I don’t want to forget my Dad right now or ever. When I do remember him, I want to be sad. I want to feel it all, and I want someone to listen to my thoughts until I can’t feel the pain anymore. I want to tell funny and sad stories about my dad - I don’t want to just shut it all out. I don’t think a lot of people get that.

In my culture, when someone dies, these estranged family members come to your house out of nowhere and start praying and telling you that he or she is in heaven and you should pray for them. Then they blast the Quran and follow protocols. I didn’t really know how to respond.. I hadn’t even had time to process that my Dad wasn’t there anymore and yet these people already shipped him in a box to heaven. I couldn’t stand to be around them during that time. They kept repeating the same things over and over, like it was a religious script. *Sigh* more to say about Religion in another post. Stay tuned lol.

Over the years I started to feel less pain. When I did, I still cried a lot, but only on some days. Same with my mother as well. My parents had a pretty rough marriage towards the end - she feels awful about it. There’s a lot of things she would do differently if she knew. I looked back at all the stupid selfish things I did. Well now I am trying to be so much better to my mom. I spend a lot of time with her and I am very attached to her. My dad and I had a really special connection, our morning drives to school and our talks about technology. With my mom it’s a bit different, but my relationship with my mom has definitely deepened over the past few years.

Surprisingly in retrospect, I went through with university just fine, in fact I was an honours student for all 4 years yah :p okay sorry for trying to brag here in sad momentz. I hope my papa is proud!

*insert 6 years later*

...And then death returned once again to my family. Like I knew it would. My aunt died through brain cancer after 2 years of fighting. And I can’t tell you what hurts more. Losing someone suddenly without warning or watching someone slowly die in front of you and having the time to say goodbye. Cancer is horrible. Maybe I will write another article about this. RIP aunty. You reminded me that in the end, in your last moments, the people you love are the most important to you. You and dad are such sweet souls. RIP.

While all of this is deeply tragic and sad stuff.. the only good thing I can do is to pay it forward. I really try hard to be there for someone who is grieving. Hey stranger reading this.. if you want to talk just message me.

So here are the lessons I have learned.. hoping they might help you..

~ You probably won’t believe me when I say this but you will feel better. It’s a process that takes time, years even (it’s been 7 years for me and I am finally okay). The pain comes and goes over the years, and don’t get me wrong it will still be there, but it will be tolerable. This I can promise you.

~ Accepting it is hard. I used to always pretend he was on a trip somewhere and he’d be back someday. In fact when I dream of him this the dream I have the most, like he would show up at the door and wouldn’t be dead and I would be so happy. Of course that’s not the best approach. The next thing I did was create a blog where I would write him letters and still include him in my life. I would update him about everything and hope that he’s reading it somewhere. Just to still have him in my life. I still cannot fathom how one soul is alive with a twinkle in their eyes and just dies in the dirt. Religion helps a lot of people deal with that stuff. I consider it sometimes, but I don’t know where I belong. Sometimes I tell myself, this is life. What can we do, we are born to die.

~ Writing helps a ton. Doing things for them or on behalf of them, helps too. Live with them, write them letters. Update them about your life through a private blog. That’s what I do! It’s working so far..

~ During tough days like birthdays or anniversaries, it’s truly best to spend it with those who share your grief, like your family. My family (brothers & mom) are much more closer now. We know how important it is for us to be together..and to fill the gap that Dad left behind. My older brothers did a great job of paying for us while I was in school and buying us a house. They are great.

~ When talking to someone who is grieving, let them share stories about their loved one, don’t encourage them surpress it. Just listen... I am sure they have something they want to say. If not, then that’s also okay. A hug goes a long way.

~ It’s hard to grow up at the same time as your parents, you want to live your life and pursue your dreams and that might be far away from them. The tragedy of life is you lose so much time trying to make a living. (I guess this might be a fluff quote..) What I am trying to say is - spend more time with your parents..

~ They say an average person lives 80+ and that’s what every kid grows up thinking, and so we plan our entire future around that, thinking that everyone in our life is going to reach that age. What I now live with is the thought that death can come at any age, to you or to someone you love. The realization left me awfully scared. You can take care of yourself and in the end die because of someone else’s mistakes. The guy who hit my father? Who was he? Just a stranger. Who knew someone so insignificant would tear my family apart. And yes, people die everyday, we hear it on the news - it’s sad but not sad enough, we wake up the next morning fine. It only hits home when it hits home. Then it’s never the same and you empathize with anyone who hurts and grieves over someone. I was planning so many things in my future and thinking of ways to give back to my parents after years, when I am older and have a job. I was thinking a minimum five years down the road to show my appreciation. I was too late. Years too late. Don’t plan too far down the road, think shorter term and love now, treat the people you love better now.

~ Spend time with your loved ones now.

I promise you it gets better, but before it does, please write, express, cry and be there for each other x

This one’s for you Dad..missing you around all the time..

[ohrosalinds]

katherine mcnamara. genderfluid. they/them.  ／  rosalind cox just pulled up blasting fly by hilary duff — that song is so them! you know, for a twenty-four year old singer & actor, i’ve heard they’re really -capricious, but that they make up for it by being so +gregarious. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say plaid shirts open with a white shirt underneath, thrift shop knick knacks, the smell of cinnamon, and childhood stardom. here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble! ( vc: hilary duff, bridgit mendler & ana golja )

rosalind’s basically the same as they were the last time i played them, but i’ve edited a couple of things.  so here’s their new intro u know the drill like this to plot w them.  

rosalind’s 24, their birthday just passed at the beginning of the month.  

rosalind was born to laurel whittmore-cox on august fifth during a summer rainstorm.  rosalind’s father died months before their birth and they still to this day do not know much about him.  but they never minded.  their mom, and their maternal grandfather gus were more than enough.  

rosalind was “discovered” at the age of two.  they were at their mother’s office ( laurel’s a producer for movies & tv shows ) and it started a career for the redheaded baby.  mostly print ads for a while, a couple of tv shows and movies but nothing big.  that is until rosalind was nine years old and was cast as the titular role in disney’s lizzie mcguire.  and they dyed their hair blonde for the role. 

honestly, it was a dream.  rosalind’s mother was an executive producer and rosalind really loved playing lizzie.  it was her favorite thing.  she was excited to go to work every day.  her friends were great.  she loved her tv family.  and it was fun playing a role that really felt at home, as she was going through similar things as lizzie at the time of the show.  since rosalind was in middle school at the time when lizzie was airing.  

when rosalind was eleven years old ( and four months, not that that’s a needed detail ) they were going through this period of discovery.  figuring out who she wanted to be, as lizzie’s final season was filming.  they had just found music as an outlet and were working on writing and coming up with their own things, hoping to release something after lizzie ended.  

during this time rosalind read something and was watching a lot of television and something struck the blonde.  following research and time of discovery, rosalind found out about the term genderfluid.  and after reading about it and learning more.  it was like a lightbulb moment and they were like “this is it.  that’s me.”  and they decided to start using they/them pronouns because it felt right. 

rosalind told their family over dinner one night and while both laurel and gus were confused, they adjusted well.  it took laurel until rosalind was seventeen years old to finally not use “she/her” accidentally.  

but rosalind had this whole show riding on their shoulders and they just knew that this coming out was not going to be good.  people would talk and things would not end well for them, it could ruin the end of the series.  it was going to be a scandal, because it went against what the producers and execs wanted for their show’s star.  and, of course, lizzie was one of the number one shows on children’s programming right then too.  while everything was going on, still working on the final season, the problem was also that rosalind didn’t want to not use their pronouns because it’s who they are.  

so rosalind came out to the cast and the crew, to people whom they considered family.  it was a slow thing, not a big announcement, and people were mostly accepting.  by the end of the series filming, most of the people they worked with every day had adjusted to using the proper pronouns most of the time.   

rosalind thought they were finally free of the station and the pushy execs who only wanted their agenda pushed forward, other than working still with their record label for this music they had been creating.  but, as luck would have it, the producers and executives had gotten together to bring about a feature film for the show.  

and rosalind couldn’t say no, lizzie was still very much a part of who they were.  and getting to work with the people again ( even so soon after saying goodbye ) it was something they wanted to do.  

so after the small “break”, almost thirteen year old rosalind went off to italy to film this movie.  ( fact: they turned 13 while filming in italy ).

and while they were there with the cast and crew and people who loved and supported them, someone back home leaked their gender pronouns and caused a big stink.  

executives flew in when they were almost finished with filming and it was a big to do.  rosalind was scheduled to go on a tour after the film finished filming since their album was almost completed.  but the executives were nervous about what everything would be.  it was a lot of meetings and rosalind had to deal with the pressure of filming the movie and worrying about their own future and if the film they, and everyone else, worked so hard on would be released.  

the company did what they do best and decided that after the movie, rosalind should go on tour for their music right away.  so rosalind was rushed to a local studio to finish the final touches of the album, which was released before the film had finished.  

despite the immense pressure, rosalind was happy.  they were doing what they loved, writing music, acting, and singing.  

of course, going on a big tour meant rules and guidelines from the corporation.  a lot of them restricting what rosalind could say and talk about in interviews, which they had done before, but never to this same degree. now rosalind was completely restricted.  in fact, they had to read from a script and they had a personal handler from the company with them at all times. 

it didn’t help that they were touring for music on top of doing press for the lizzie film.  

it should have been the time of their life.  it really should have, but alas.  it was a time where rosalind was sleeping less and less every night and working on finding themself in the little spare time they had.  

it was building up a lot, taking a toll on the young teen.  

rosalind’s biggest personal problem with the press was that everyone who interviewed them was using she/her pronouns and completely ignoring the fact they’d even stated a preference for using they/them.  

it led to them having a bit of a …. MELTDOWN during an interview when they were asked a pretty terrible question.

footage went viral on tmz and mtv of rosalind pulling off their microphone in the middle of an interview, irate and yelling at who people later found out was their disney appointed handler,  “i’m sick of using the wrong pronouns for this bullshit! it’s not fair!”

the footage can still be found on multiple websites, and people tend to talk about it a lot still.  

the next thing they knew, the second half of the tour was cancelled, “creative differences” had been cited.  however, rosalind was still under contract with the record label, and even though they were basically blacklisted from working for quite some time, rosalind had to work on new music for a company that didn’t want them.  

rosalind released a second album soon after the end of the tour.  once their duties in the contract were finished and all obligations filled--rosalind left the company and went to “normal life”.  

the teen -- a redhead now, the blonde hair finally gone ( people called it shedding the disney baggage ) -- left los angeles to live with their grandpa gus outside of boston.  they maintained a job working at gus’ thrift/antique shop the little things.  and did their best to maintain a regular teenage existence.  which is hard when you spent your childhood on film.  

for a while, rosalind did a youtube channel in their later high school years.  sometimes they still post, but it’s sporadic if anything.  they used to do a lot of q&a videos.  they would often talk about working on music and talking about their gender identity and sexuality ( they’re pansexual ).  they wanted to have a voice for themselves, and doing something like that was the best way to do that. 

with everything, rosalind kept from saying anything outwardly bad about their old parent company.  people never understood why--when it was clear that they had been terribly unhappy and troubled at the old company.  

recently, rosalind has opened up about it.  they experienced a lot of wrongdoings from the company in their childhood, given the company’s outright display of their gender identity and how it didn’t fit with the image.  but rosalind still wished nothing but the best for the people whom they’d worked with.  there was nothing that the cast & crew had done wrong to them.  the people with whom they spent so many hours of their formative years were nothing but excellent and kind and hardworking people.  

they’re a people person, loving to be around other people.  but they’re also always a bit nervous about big crowds.  idk what it is.  one on one they’re amazing and chatty, but crowds make them nervous?  but stage stuff is wonderful? they can definitely hold themselves in a crowd or captivate a room.  

they’ve done a handful of made for television movies in the recent years.  recently they’ve released new music after a long period of nothing.  they did an extended play belong and a full length album then & now.  ( rosalind’s early music is canon hilary duff ie metamorphasis and hilary, which for rp purposes is called rosalind )  

rosalind is currently labelless.  they haven’t been with a parent label since everything at their old one blew up.  

they have a fear of being controlled by any company if they were to work for a specific label again, so they haven’t cared to look for one.  

maybe they’ll tour again in the future?? who knows.  

rosalind was recently cast to play DAPHNE BLAKE in an upcoming live action scooby doo television series.  

[mewnimessages]

Shepherds opening

Julie had made this trip many times before. One thousand, nine hundred, and fourteen miles. Distance from her home in Reno Nevada and her college the University of Illinois. It usually took her four days to complete it, but then there was that time she did it in three. Lots of coffee that trip. The thought made her smile as she watched the vast, empty, cold landscape in front of her fly by. She was just over halfway, not too far from Walcott Wyoming. She wasn’t planning on coming home for Christmas break, but decided at the last minute it would be a nice surprise for her parents. They had put so much into her education and helped her anytime she needed it, she thought the least she could do is be there during the holidays. It was cold today though, according to her overhead console thermometer it was 31 outside. And gray. So gray. She hadn’t checked the weather but wasn’t too worried, her parents had gotten her this car, a used Jeep Grand Cherokee as a graduation present and it was four wheel drive.

Then the snow came. Not too bad at first, but she could tell it was sticking. As the wind blew across the plains, little white fingers began to reach across the road. She was good at lying to herself, that much was for sure. She thought, “It won’t be bad, I’ll get past Walcott and see if I can find a place to stop for the night, head out in the morning.” A few minutes had passed, she glanced up at the temperature, 27. “Damn” she thought, “Its dropping quick.” Now a nice blanket of white had formed across the road, windswept and forming small drifts. She reached up and turned down the radio to a low murmur, too distracting, her knuckles whitened as she gripped the wheel tighter. She kept her eyes straight ahead, wondering if it was going to let up soon, maybe she could drive through it. She had to make it at least to exit 238. She couldn’t remember if there was anything on that exit, but she could get off the interstate see if anyone knew anything about the weather. There always a gas station she laughed. With bad coffee. The wind was blowing so hard she could barely see ahead of her, she reached down and put the Jeep into four wheel drive, just to be safe. She slowed down to about 45, and kept her eyes out. She didn’t like to admit to herself but she was getting very nervous now. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

“SHOT DOWNNNNNNNN IN A BLAZE OF GLORYYYY” Screamed her phone. “SHIT!!”, Julie cursed as she reached over for her phone, knocking it into the passenger seat. She reached over, trying to see who would be calling her now, as all her friends in school knew she was going home. The Jeep hurtled along at 45, drifting onto the snow covered break down lane. She grabbed the charger cord and started to reel the phone in. She grabbed it and silenced it, her mom. Of course. She just let it go to voicemail. She looked back up and panicked. As she was drifting off the right side of the road. “SHIT SHIT SHIT” she gritted as she pulled the wheel hard back to the left. The Jeep slid around, she fought the wheel, then let go, hoping it would correct itself. The wheel miraculously came back to center, she gripped it again and slowed down again, now going just 30, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Damn, that could have been bad” she said to no one in particular. She glanced up at the temperature reading again, 17. “Holy hell” she thought, its dropping. It seemed to be snowing harder, she could feel the wind pushing her all over the highway. She wondered though where all the traffic was. She hadn’t passed an east bound car for over an hour, they may have closed the highway. If they closed it eastbound, then they must have closed it west. Probably back at Laramie.

About 5 minutes later, she noticed it. At first she thought her mind was playing tricks on her. But it was really there, a car. Or truck. The headlights were rather dim, but there was still a gray glow in the sky so she really couldn’t tell. Looked to be about half a mile behind her, as it would disappear over the crest of the rolling hills out here. And the apex of the long sweeping curves. The wind was far worse than it had been, but now she felt a little better. At least she wasn’t the ONLY one out in this mess. And if the worse happened, at least there was another human being there. Another person. That alone relieved her. She felt more at ease, and bumped her speed up to a blistering 45. Well, blistering for her anyway. She glanced back up at the temperature again, 08. She had NEVER seen cold like that. She noticed her feet were getting cold, even though she had the heat on full blast and the defroster. She notice ice had started forming on her side windows. Never thought it would be that cold coming through here. She had seen snow, and cold temperatures in Reno, but nothing like this. Even when she came through here last winter, it was in the 20’s.

She glanced in the rearview mirror. The car had gotten much closer, maybe a hundred yards away. It was getting darker, and she could tell the lights were much dimmer than they should be. And its big. Must be a truck she thought. Or maybe a van. Round headlights too she thought. Must be old. She just kept heading up the interstate. She hadn’t seen a mile marker post for a while, but with the snow, wind, and her laser like attention to the road in front of her since the little spin she hadn’t really been looking. “ This is taking forever” she thought, I should be at the next exit by now. She started getting nervous again, thinking maybe she missed it.

Impossible she thought. I wouldn’t have missed an entire exit. She was starting to regret her visitor now. The van was closer. Real close. Actually much too close. “Back the fuck off asshole” she said again, this time to the van behind her. She was worried that he would hit her if she messed up again. And that’s all she needs, a wrecked car in the middle of a blizzard miles from help with limited cell service. She glanced down at her phone, the red light shined back at her. No service. Great. She looked ahead, and saw a ramp, not 20 yards ahead. Shit, almost missed it. She guided her suv up the onramp. Then she noticed it wasn’t the exit. It was a rest area. Of course. She thought well at least I’ll get Mr. Follow too Close off my ass. She glanced up at the mirror. No. Oh, no. No fucking way. The van was still behind her. “Don’t panic” she thought, maybe he is just pulling off to wait out the storm, or take a piss. Who knows. She pulled into one of the parking spaces to the left, and put the Jeep in park. As she sat there idling she noticed the van pull up behind her. And stop. Blocking her in. Not good. Not good. Not good. The van sat there, it was loud, she could here it over the wind. It didn’t sound powerful, just badly taken care of. She could see it well out of the side view mirror. The dim light of the rest area lights lit up the van well. It was defiantly black. And beat. Looked old, 60’s maybe? . It was a panel van, a work van of some sort she noted, no windows on the side. It looked rough. She heard a loud creak, and saw the van rock. She looked in the rearview mirror and saw the door of the van swing shut. She could see a scripted writing on the door, in chrome. E….E something. She sat there, scared. Not sure what to do, then she noticed the man walking up her drivers side. He was wearing an old and torn heavy coat, boots, and a wide brimmed hat he was having to hold on with one of his hands against the win.

He stopped at her window. She looked at her phone, pretending not to notice him. He reached out with his hand and rapped on the window with his knuckles. No gloves. His hands must be frozen. She looked up and gave a nervous smile. She put down the phone, making sure he could see she had one, and rolled down the window about two inches. “Hello” she said, “Can I help you sir?” As he looked at her his expression did not change, he looked beaten. Like a man who went to work everyday and hated his job, then went home and hated his life. “Hey, I’m sorry, but I need you to come with me, something has happened.” the stranger said against the wind. She looked at him and let out a nervous laugh. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asked, trying not to show how terrified she was. “No, ma’am but you must come with me, I’m sorry but I cannot let you proceed any further. There was an accident.” “Um, unless you’re the police, I’m not getting out of my car, so if you don’t mind please move your van so I can get out, please?” Now she was completely about to lose it. “ Julie, you have to come with me. You will die if you don’t, I promise you, I hate doing this, but its your only chance, you must trust me.”. She looked at him, her eyes wide. “ How the fuck do you know my name, who the hell are you?!!?” She screamed at him. “Please, just come with me Julie, its cold out here and I’m not going to physically force you. I hate that. Just please, come with me.”

Julie was freaked out. She didn’t know what to do but she sure as hell wasn’t getting in the official rapist van of the Midwest. She rolled back up her window with out a word. She looked in front of her, didn’t look to bad, but what if she got stuck, no way she could get her self out before he got to her. The stranger stood there shaking his head. “Every damned time” he thought and started walking back to his van. She saw him turn his back and start back to his van. This is it, she thought. Now or never. Victim or victor. She put the Jeep in reverse and floored it. The stranger didn’t even flinch as the suv came within inches of him. The Jeep plowed into the front fender and door of the van pushing it to the side, she threw it back in drive and took off for the onramp. “YES” she screamed to herself. “GO BACK TO FUCKING GOATS ASSHOLE!!” She screamed even thought she knew he couldn’t hear her. Exit 238. There will be people at exit 238. And around here there will be people who have guns. He won’t follow she thought. No way he is that dumb. But how did he know my name? Why didn’t he just pull me from the car? She was confused but she knew one thing, no way was she getting in his van on her own free will. That would be suicide. As she pulled back on the highway she looked in her mirror, no sign of him. Excellent she thought. He is probably looking at the damage she did to his van. She hoped she had fucked it up good. What if he knew her parents? What if he was really there to help? Stop. Stop it. Your already trying to rationalize this to yourself, she thought to herself. Just get to the exit, find people, call the law. That’s your goal.

The man stood by his battered van. Its always the same. Always. They never have the faith. Oh well, the chase is on. He stepped up into the van, closed the door, and went after his prey.

Julie was starting to relax, she had done pretty well calming herself down and then it all went to shit. Headlights. Dim. Round. He was back. And catching up fast. She threw caution to the wind and accelerated up to 60 mph through the drifting snow. Looking back at the van which was now less than 50 feet behind her. A momentary lack of attention and she saw the headlights disappear in the rearview mirror. Shit. She was sliding sideways again but she wasn’t getting it back this time. The Jeep slid off the left side of the interstate and slid down the slope of the median backwards. She came to a rest, upright and rattled, staring at the van, now sitting still, the wind blowing the steam of the tailpipe around as it sat there idling. He didn’t get out, he just sat there, staring out the drivers side window as the wind whipped around the van. Waiting, hoping, that she would come and ask him for help, that she would get past her fears. No dice, she stared back, wondering why he didn’t come after her. Why he didn’t get out of the van. This was the perfect opportunity. She sat there for what seemed like days, wondering what to do next, when a voice in her head screamed, floor it, get out of this ditch, your not far from your goal now, you can’t give up. She did just that, the engine of the Jeep roared as it clawed and slid its way up the median and back onto I-80, just feet from the front of the van. The stranger just watched her, and cursed the fact that she was once again on the run.

Back on the road again, headed west she came up over the hill and saw it. Lights! The exit! Finally, civilization. She kept edging up her speed, and once again, the van was gaining. She kept her eyes on the goal, now only 200 yards away, she started heading towards the exit, turning on her turn signal out of habit. As she started heading down ramp, she got loose once again, spun around completely and hit the guardrail on the right side of the ramp backwards. This was bad. Really bad. She felt herself get thrust back into the seat as the back of the jeep crumpled into the rail. The rear window busted, and the Jeep bounced back out into the middle of the ramp. As she came to a stop, she saw the headlights bearing down on her from the interstate. She closed her eyes, gripped the wheel and prepared for impact.

It never came. She felt the cold air drifting in from the broken rear window. The wind rocked the Jeep. She could easily hear the loud, rough idle of the van. Idle? She opened her eyes, the van sat at the top of the exit ramp. She looked at it, no longer scared, but confused. She put the Jeep in park, and waited to see what happened next, even though her mind screamed at her to drive away. The drivers side door of the van opening snapped her out of the trance. She frantically pulled the Jeep into drive and looked again, but he wasn’t coming toward her. The stranger was just standing beside the open door of the van. Staring at her. She started getting angry now. Really angry, she rolled down the window of the Jeep and screamed “ What the hell do you want!!” The stranger, straining to be heard over the wind and blowing snow yelled back “You, to do the right thing, and come with me. I told you, there has been an accident. You must come with me.” She looked at the man, who was only about 30 feet from her and felt less threatened, but she knew he wasn’t going to get her in that van. The stranger spoke again, “You have half an hour, I’ll be right here. After that, I’m leaving.” And the stranger stepped back up into his van and shut the door.

She rolled up the window wondering what the hell the man meant. He still sat there, in his battered van. She put the Jeep in gear, and pulled down the ramp toward the light that had attracted her before. It was a truck stop. Not a chain place, more of a mom and pop type of deal. She limped the injured Jeep into the parking lot and parked 2 spaces from the door. There were no other cars in the lot, but looking through the windows that spanned the entire front of the café area she noticed it had many customers, looked to be at least 30 people in there. Sane people she hoped. She got out of her car, and walked toward the front door, as she pushed it open, she welcomed the warmth and stillness of the air. She walked up to the counter, and yelled to the man behind the counter, “Please help me, I’m being chased!”

The man behind the counter barely looked up, a couple folks nervously laughed. “What the hell is wrong with you people! Call the fucking police, I’m being chased by a lunatic in a van for fucks sake!” The man behind the counter looked up at her, “Hey there, my name is James. Now just calm down, your safe now. But we need to clear some things up for you. Go over and talk to Grayson over there, he will set you straight.” She wanted to run back out the door, run back to her Jeep and see if she could make it to another exit, but she felt the answer was in this diner. Again, her mind told her to get the hell out of there, but she knew in her gut that she need to talk to the man called Grayson. She walked over toward the man that the counter fellow had pointed at. He was a large man, gray hair peaking out from a tattered Purina Feed ball cap. But he looked kind. She walked over to the booth where the man was sitting with a cup of coffee. Only about 4 minutes had passed since her last encounter with the stranger. She didn’t know how much more weird shit she could deal with tonight. But she decided to find out.

Grayson just looked at her for a few moments after she sat down. He looked over at James, “Hey, would you get this young lady a cup of coffee.” She shook her head as to say no, but he looked at her and said “Your gonna want it, how do you take it?” “ Lots of cream, lots of sugar” The old man looked over at James again, “You hear her?” “Yeah” said James. “Ok, miss. While he is getting that, let me clear up this fella in the van for ya. We have all encountered him. Everyone of us. And we all misunderstood his intentions.” She cocked her head slightly to the side “What the hell do you mean misunderstood his intentions? The son of a bitch ran me off the road, he is trying to kill me!” “Miss” said Grayson “Did he once touch you? Did he once force you out of your car, even though he had ample opportunity?” “No.” She said, “But what the hell is he doing out there? He is going to get someone killed. And why havn’t you called the police yet?” “Miss, first off, trust me, he isn’t going to get anyone killed here” he chuckled. “And second, there is no phone here. Look around you for a minute, tell me what you see.” She glanced around, many different people in the restaurant. All different walks of life, two booths down from them was a man in a suit. Behind him, a older couple who must still think it’s the early 70’s based on the way they were dressed. Over on the other side of the counter were several different people, all seemed to be dressed from different decades. 60’s, 70’s, 80’s and 90’s.

“I don’t understand, what’s going on here?” “The man you have been running from is a transporter. He brings souls to where they need to be. Miss, I don’t know what has happened to you, all of us in here do not know what happened to us either, but you are most likely dead. We are in a state of limbo, we cannot leave. I see my old truck out there right now.” He motioned out the window to an empty space. “But I can’t leave here in it. Oh, I can go out, start it up, and head up the exit ramp, but as I reach the top I am suddenly headed back down toward Old Peterson road out there. There is no where I can go to leave here. Now, its not too bad here, its warm inside while it’s a snowy, windy, mess out there, not bad at all.” He continued “But honestly, I would almost rather be judge and sent into damnation than stay here. We have no sense of time really, I don’t remember if I have eaten, or if I have slept. I don’t even remember if I have gotten up to take a piss. My coffee cup is always at the same level. I have no idea if I had this conversation with you already 50 times. The only way we can even remotely have an idea about the time we have spent here is when a new guest arrives. Would you mind telling me what year it is?” She sat there, stunned. Not sure of what to make of this. “Um, its ah, its 2009.” The old mans face dropped. He couldn’t believe it. Last customer they had was back in 1992. He looked her right in the eye “Miss, I have been here since the summer of 64, at least as far as I can remember. Well, I guess you can pick yourself out a booth, there is some nice folks in here, you will enjoy all their stories, but after a while you will start to forget if they are yours or theirs” She looked at him, almost ready to cry. It had been 18 minutes. “The man” she said. “The man said he would wait half an hour. What did that mean?” The old mans eyes lit up. “That means you still have a chance! Go, go now. Get in his van. Trust me, no matter what fate he has for you, its better than the one your choosing now. Please, no one has ever said he would wait. You must catch him before its too late.”

She didn’t know what to do, what to say. The man looked at her “Go! Goddammit, get out of here! NOW!” She got up, almost falling, ran past James holing her coffee, pushed open the door to the café, and ran to her now battered Jeep. Start she thought. Start for the love of God start. The Jeep roared to life, she put it in reverse and slung the Jeep around toward the exit. James looked over to Grayson, “Do you think she will make it?” “I sure as hell hope so, I would like someone to beat this shitty cosmic game.” The folks inside the diner went back to the polite conversation, as they had been doing for decades. As she pulled back out on the road she pulled up to the exit and headed up the wrong way to I80 West. Two headlights stared back at her, he was still there. She never thought she would be happy about that. 27 minutes. She pulled up to the front of the van and slid to a stop. As she got out, the vans driver side door opened, once again. The stranger stepped out. “You coming or not?” he said. “I don’t have a choice do I.” She replied. “Sure you do, that’s what it’s all about. Choices.” “ I’m coming.” she replied.

She walked over to the passenger side of the van, reached for the handle and opened the door. She noticed the script on the door again, Econoline. Huh, she thought. Wondered what that said. One mystery down. She got into the passenger side of the van as the stranger was closing his door. She reached over to pull her door shut, and noticed two threaded shafts where the window crank and door handle use to be and hesitated, she looked over at the man again. He just looked over at her and said “Sometimes people decide to leave after they have made the commitment to come with me. Its just insurance.” She looked back at the door, knowing once she closed it, short of breaking the window, only he could open it. She sighed, reached out and closed the door. The stranger put the van in gear, and slowly swung the van around, heading east in the west bound lane.

“So, what’s the deal? Am I dead? Are you, like, an angel?” Julie asked breaking the silence. The stranger replied “Your not dead, not yet. And no, I’m not an angel. I simply have a job to do. I have a debt to pay. Some people don’t get the second chance I have been afforded, so I do my job.” She stared at him, though it didn’t seem to bother him. She thought for a second, well, he is probably use to it. “So, um, do you have a name?” He replied, “Frank, Frank Patterson.” Short and to the point she thought. “So,” She continued, “How does all this work. And what accident are you talking about? I don’t remember any accidents.” He looked over at her, first time since he started driving, “You didn’t regain control the first time you lost it on the interstate. You actually rolled your car over. A plow driver came upon you a few minutes after, in fact the EMS has just arrived. You have a pulse. But your fading. You injured your head pretty badly. I am trying to get you back, because your time is not scheduled to be up. But I don’t know if we will make it.” She just sat there, not sure what to feel, what to think. It was all so surreal. “The people at the café, do you” He cut her off. “Never been there, I’m not allowed down that ramp. Those are people I couldn’t help. People I failed. You see, there are places like that all over the world. Places where lost souls gather, they are not necessarily bad people, but they are not going to make it any further. That is their eternity.” She mulled it over, trying to think of questions to ask, but drawing a blank. She looked behind her and noticed the back of the van was blocked off by a large piece of wood painted black. She didn’t know what to say, she asked “So, what’s with the wood?” This caught the stranger off guard, he looked over at her, kinda confused. “Well, honestly, its easier to heat the van without having to heat the entire cargo area.” He continued, “That’s the first time anyone has asked me about that since 1964.” For the first time, she saw a small smile form upon the strangers face.

“So, how many have there been, you know, before me?” He didn’t answer, he just kept staring ahead. She pushed on, “Will I remember any of this if I, um, survive?” “Miss” he said, “I am trying my best to save your life, I already saved your soul, so technically, I did my job. All these questions are breaking my concentration.” She looked over at him, “Well I am so sorry but I’m just caught a little off guard here buddy, I was just on my” She stopped, it finally sunk in. She may never see her parents again, her friends, anyone she knows. She tried to hide it but tears started running down her face. He looked over at her, “Oh, come on. Don’t start that. Jesus. Maybe if you hadn’t kept running you wouldn’t be in a race for your life right now.” “ Don’t give me that SHIT!” She yelled at him. “Who in their right mind would get into a van with the way you were acting. Being all cryptic and shit asshole. Where do you get off trying to blame ME for this!” She was breathing hard. She was pissed. He kept looking ahead “Excuse me miss, but I’m not the one who wrecked her Jeep am I. Look, if you survive this, you may have some memory of what occurred. Are you going to tell everyone what happened? About all of this? What would be stranger, me asking you to come with me because there was an accident or me telling you that , oh, I’m sorry, but your hanging in the balance of life and death and since I’m playin the Grim Reaper today how bout you come with me and we will get this all sorted out.” He got agitated. “ Look, this isn’t an easy job, I am not allowed to touch you, I am not allowed to convince you, I have to get you from where your going back to where you need to be. It’s a shitty job but its what I have to do. I don’t like it, but I don’t have a choice, YOU DO! So please lady, cut me some slack. I didn’t have to give you any extra time when we got to the exit, but I figured I would be nice and see if we can let you enjoy your life. You want to go back? Fine. I’ll turn it around right now.” She sat there stunned. “I’m sorry, its, its just been so much to deal with all at one time ya know.” “I know,” The man replied. “Just trust me ok, its all about faith. So please, just trust me.” She sat there for a couple minutes. They rode in silence. “The wood, its not just to keep it warm in here is it?” He looked over at her, “No. It isn’t.” “Then why..” “Some people do bad things in life. I cannot allow them to make it to the exit. They MUST be judge. So those people, those people I CAN force.” She nodded. They rode in silence again.

She saw the lights first. The red, and amber flashing lights up ahead. Looked like spastic Christmas lights. Then she saw her Jeep. A mangled mess of metal, the paramedics were just now lifting someone up on the stretcher. Her. She looked over at him, “Can, can they see us?” “No” He replied. “No, they can’t. I’ll pull you up close, you can return to your body by simply laying down on it. I wish you the best of luck, and a long life. She just sat there, the man pulled up about twenty feet from the ambulance, stopped the van and got out. She started to feel sick. It was so twisted to know that you might die, in just a few moments. She was startled when the man opened her door. He looked over at her, “You ready? There is a bit of a time limit.” “Yeah, I’m ready.” She said. She stepped out of the van, and started walking over to her, body. It felt weird. She say them working on her, struggling to keep her body alive. She turned back, the man was still standing next to her open door. “Hey! One more question.” “WHAT!” he yelled back, against the snow and wind. “What’s with the van?”. For the second time that night, and in a long time, he smiled a little bit. “Company car.” And with that, he, and the van, faded into the blowing snow.

[letterboxd]

Daddy.

“I had zero arrogance because I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing.”

We sat down with director Ant Timpson and star Elijah Wood to talk about pushing boundaries, living with dead bodies, and “de-greasing” the script of their new film Come To Daddy.

In the general flow of the movie industry, not a lot of producers make the shift to directing. But for New Zealander Ant Timpson, it seems like a natural move.

His unique genre predilections have long shone through in his producing credits, which include titles such as Housebound, The ABCs of Death (and its sequel), Turbo Kid, Deathgasm, The Field Guide to Evil, and the instantly iconic cult oddity The Greasy Strangler. Those predilections extend somewhat into his directorial debut, the darkly comedic new thriller Come To Daddy.

Scripted by The Greasy Strangler co-writer Toby Harvard, Come To Daddy is based on an idea from Timpson, who was “inspired” by his reaction to the death of his own father. As he articulates in this captivating blog post, the week Timpson spent in a house with his father’s body learning things he never knew about his dad not only sparked the plot of Come To Daddy, but also prompted Timpson to re-engage his long-held desire to direct movies.

In the resulting film, Elijah Wood (who worked alongside Timpson as a producer on The Greasy Strangler, and has put in his fair share of work hours in New Zealand) stars as Norval, a 30-ish hipster layabout who travels to a remote seaside home to meet with with the father he hasn’t seen since he was a child.

Norval’s reunion with pop (played by Canadian great Stephen McHattie) starts awkwardly, then gets increasingly weird, and soon mortal peril is in play.

Following the film’s well-received world premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival, Timpson and Wood sat down with Letterboxd for a two-on-one to talk about Come To Daddy.

‘Come To Daddy’ director Ant Timpson.

Letterboxd: This film ends with the credit ‘Based on an idea by Ant Timpson’. What did you convey to Toby Harvard when you first approached him about this idea? Ant Timpson: I gave him the skeleton structure of: staying alone in a house with a dead body, trying to process that. Maybe thinking about: you didn’t know everything about your dad, the unresolved issues, not getting answers that you wanted, wanting to say stuff to him that you didn’t. All that stuff sons have with their dads. And mothers and daughters. So during the rest of the week [when Timpson Sr’s body was on display], people came to the house who I didn’t know had this alternate history [of my dad]. And learning that information, my brain took it to crazy extremes, as I do, as a movie guy. I took it in to weird areas. And I started formulating it and thinking. But also, a big part of it was like: watching someone die in front of you—what am I doing with my life? I used to dream about directing, and I’ve just been servicing everyone else’s dreams.

So your father’s death also served as an impetus to pursue your directorial dreams? AT: Get tryin’ or get dyin’, man. It was kind of like that. And I didn’t feel like I could just grab a script as a producer, because I come across scripts all the time, and nothing was like “Ooh, I need to direct that”.

Elijah Wood: I get that. I get that the impulse isn’t to just simply find a piece that somebody else wrote. It had to be personal, a fire within you that needed to be told.

AT: So it was the impetus, but it needed to have that emotional connection to make it actually happen. I was just lucky enough that Toby was game, and Toby brought everything to the party. He took that [idea] away and then came back with a draft that was really funny. It was kind of different from the final film. And so we bounced back and forth.

He got pissed off with me because I was quite rude, I think, with the first feedback I gave. We’ve got this dynamic relationship about the whole film. I think I was like: “This is really Greasy, we need to de-Grease it”. And so he did. And we always thought about Elijah. Toby was like, “It would be amazing for Elijah to be in it,” and we talked about that and what he could bring to it and ground the whole thing. Eventually it was in good enough shape to send out and so [producer] Mette-Marie [Kongsved] and Elijah read it. He was the first to read it really out of the gate.

Elijah, you’ve had a professional relationship with Ant for years prior to this. Were you surprised or excited to hear that he was making his first film as a director? EW: Not surprised. Excited. It all really just fell into place. Because it was Toby too, we had all worked together on The Greasy Strangler. There was a lot of connective tissue that made sense. And it was not a surprise. I mean, he’s a filmmaker. As a producer, part of the job is understanding the process and guiding that process, so it’s not a huge leap. Then reading that script, it was just instant. It’s one of the better scripts I’ve read in years. It leaped off the page and it constantly surprised me in terms of where it was going. It starts off as one thing, and every step of the way your expectations are subverted. It’s shocking and funny and fucking crazy. And a blast. I immediately fell in love with it. And was intimidated by it.

I think from an emotional standpoint, what Norval has to go through… it’s a lot on Norval’s shoulders. And so I wanted to make sure that I delivered for that. I was honored that [Timpson] wanted me to be a part of it but I was also anxious about making sure that I honored that and serviced that in the right way. Particularly because it was based on a personal experience of Ant’s.

Was the Ant that you worked with on set as a director the same Ant you’d worked with in the previous years as a producer? EW: (high pitched) Yeah. Yeah.

AT: I feel like that’s part of my background of organizing events-based stuff: getting teams of people enthusiastic about things [Ant’s cinema-centric events are the stuff of legend in New Zealand]. And I think that really helps when you get a team around you. Plus, I had zero arrogance because I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. Kind of. I knew what I wanted but also had a lot of pressure I put on myself. So I felt like I had a really great support team that were there for me and once I knew that, my confidence just went straight up.

It’s clear from the films you’ve produced that you love movies that push the boundaries. Have you drawn any conclusions about how far you can push that kind of stuff? AT: I wanted a film that was pretty accessible at the end of the day. And I also knew that this had a decent budget for the type of film, more than I had been used to for some other things, so there was a responsibility that we’ve got to reach an audience. And it’s hard. But I also didn’t want to alienate the audience that I think would really like it. So it’s right on that fine line.

I don’t feel like it fits totally within [my produced works], like there’s elements of it in the previous producer stuff but I honestly feel like when I was watching it that there’s not… it takes a while. This is slow burn, man. I think it rolls out at just the right pace for when things happen. Like it’s building and building and then when things snap it starts to unravel quickly.

Saban has acquired ‘Come To Daddy’ for distribution; the film will have a US cinema release. Upcoming festival screenings include: Sydney Film Festival, Australia, June; Bucheon International Fantastic Film Festival, Korea, June–July; Fantasia Film Festival, Quebec, July–August.

Ant has created a list of films that inspired him in the making of his movie, which you can see here. Stay tuned for another, more personal list coming soon. Comments have been edited for clarity and length.

[jenanigans1207]

The Memories We Shared (Now Hurt More Than Ever) [8] |Klance|

*strolls in two months after I promised to update* An update? Sounds fake, I know.

Seriously, though, I really appreciate the patience and love everyone has shown me. You guys are the best. I am here to offer you a 10.5k chapter that hopefully makes up for the wait you’ve had! Please let me know what you think.

(PS- I’m posting this tonight but I will go through in the morning and fix the italics. I know there are some and I just absolutely do not want to hunt them down rn. I want to SLEEP. I italicized the flashbacks just to avoid confusion but that’s it. If you NEED italics to enjoy it properly, hit it up on my ao3 where the formatting actually transfers)

--x--x--x--x--x--x--x 

The car was unreasonably warm as Shiro drove Keith to his old job. Old job? Current job? He wasn’t really sure what to expect. Fall had just begun but Shiro had the unbelievable ability to be cold even in the mildest of temperatures so he had the heat blasting. Adam had teased them on their way out the door that morning, saying that it was Keith’s turn to suffer what he suffered on a daily basis. Both Shiro and Adam taught at one of the universities nearby, but Shiro didn’t have any classes until later in the day so he was able to drive Keith around in the morning.

“Are you nervous?” Shiro asked as he pulled up to one of the glass paneled buildings downtown. The fall sun reflected off the building, making it look almost ethereal.

Keith unbuckled his seatbelt but didn’t get out immediately. “I don’t know, really.” He said after a moment. “I don’t remember anything about this place, so I’m not sure how to feel.”

Shiro smiled encouragingly at him. “I only met Coran once, but he seemed like a really nice guy. You always said good things about him. So I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

There was no reason to assume it would be anything other than fine, honestly. He had received a few texts from Coran during the few weeks he’d been recovering and the man had been nothing but super caring. Still, it was weird to go in, seeking information on the fate of a job he didn’t even remember having. It was something he knew that he needed to do, however, so he took a deep breath and gripped the handle of the door, glancing over his shoulder at Shiro.

“Only one way to find out.” He opened the door to the car and got out, not missing the proud smile on Shiro’s face as he slammed the door shut and gave him a slight wave. Shiro had the uncanny ability to be proud of Keith for even the tiniest of things, but he appreciated it. Especially now. It reminded him that even the small things could be big victories and he needed to remember that as he continued through his recovery.

Shiro backed out of his parking spot and headed back towards home with a quick wave to Keith as he went. Keith watched until he was out of sight, taking the time to collect himself. He walked into the building and the girl behind the front desk smiled and greeted him by name, giving him a floor number and pointing towards the elevators. It was unnerving, the way she greeted him like they had shared multiple conversations— but they probably had. Keith sighed and took off towards the elevators, feeling, for the millionth time, like he didn’t fit in his own life anymore.

The elevator doors opened the moment he pressed the button and he walked in, jamming his finger into the button for his desired floor.  The inside of the elevator was all mirrored so he spent the short ride staring at himself and trying to school his expression into something neutral or confident. In the end he settled on just looking like he wasn’t completely out of his element and lost. It was the best he could hope for. The elevator stopped and the doors slid open, revealing an open floor with desks arranged in neat rows. There was art hung on the wall— different logos, he realized as he looked closer— and the entire place felt modern and cool. He liked it immediately.

“Keith, my boy!” A man came darting across the room. Keith barely had time to register his orange hair and matching mustache before he was pulled into a crushing hug. “So good to see you! Look at you,” The man loosened his grip and held Keith at an arm’s length to get a better view of him, “You hardly look any worse for wear!”

An awkward laughed filled him but he fought against it, clearing his throat instead. “Ah, yeah. Just this,” he pointed to the scar that was forming on his right cheek, “And in here,” he knocked jokingly on his head.

The man— he had to assume it was Coran— laughed uproariously at his joke and clasped him on the shoulder. Shiro had been right, he was incredibly friendly and outgoing. He was chattering away about how the company had been as he steered Keith through the sea of desks before stopping at one in particular.

“Ah,” Coran said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Here we are.”

Keith looked down at the desk to see that it was his, indicated by a framed picture of him and Lance in the corner. The rest of the desk was relative bare, save for office supplies which seemed very like him.. A smile crossed his lips as he picked up the picture and looked at it. In the picture the two of them were sitting in a giant pile of leaves, looking at each other and smiling. Well, Lance was outright laughing, but his eyes were crinkled in the corner in what looked like pure happiness as he gazed at Keith. Keith, for his part, was smiling a small smile back at Lance but it was fond. Just looking at the picture made Keith feel a warmth flood his chest.

He placed the picture back down and looked at the rest of his stuff. A sticky note was taped to the corner of his computer screen and he recognized Lance’s handwriting instantly. In college, Lance had doodled endlessly on Keith’s notes as well as lent him study materials, so Keith was very familiar with his script. He bent over to read the note, a flush blooming across his cheeks as he did so.

‘Work hard and hurry home to me. I miss you. I love you.’

Coran had been watching silently as Keith scanned his things, but that seemed to draw a response out of him. “How is Lance doing?”

“Well,” Keith straightened up and met Coran’s gaze. Clearly Coran knew who Lance was, but it was still weird for him to talk about it because he couldn’t remember them ever meeting. “He’s, uh, he’s been really great through all of this. He’s helped me a lot with my recovery.”

“I know,” Coran said and Keith’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Coran fitted him with a confused look in response. “Who did you think was updating me on your condition?”

“Oh,” Keith said dumbly, “I didn’t know anyone was updating you on it.”

“Of course, dear boy!” His gaze softened along with his voice. “I know you don’t remember a lot, but we were close and Lance knows I’m concerned about you.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Keith said, offering Coran a smile. He wasn’t sure what else to say but Coran was looking at him in a way that suggested he expected more. So, Keith tried to address what he thought Coran was looking for. “And Lance has really put up with a lot. He’s gone out of his way to make everything as easy as he can on me.”

“That sounds like Lance,” Coran agreed.

“I really am not sure how to express how much I appreciate him.” Keith finished off, feeling a little awkward still.

Coran leaned back against Keith’s desk, one hand finding and twirling the ends of his mustache. “Just make sure you tell him that, okay? He’ll never ask for a thank you, but he deserves one.”

That was perhaps the most accurate thing Keith had ever heard anyone say. Lance was the kindest person he knew and he would  never  expect or seek a thank you for doing the right thing. Still, as Coran had said, he deserved a thank you. He deserved more than that. He deserved the world. The thought made a knot form in Keith’s stomach. He’d been feeling better about things with Lance, but he still felt inferior and unworthy of such a sweet guy.

“I will.”

There was a moment of silence before Coran clapped his hands together. “Right!” He exclaimed, startling Keith. “You didn’t come here to get all sentimental.” Keith let out a weak laugh at that. “You came here to talk about your job! I only have one thing to say on that matter.”

“And that is?” Keith prompted when Coran didn’t immediately finish his thought.

“It’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready to come back, no matter how long it takes.”

There was an overwhelming feeling of gratitude that swirled in Keith’s stomach at the words. He had tried to think ahead to the future but it had been just as much of a question as his past. For the past few weeks the only thing he had known was the present and it was getting hard to live his life like that. The relief of knowing his future had a shape was honestly tangible.

“Thank you so much,” Keith could hear the relief in his own voice. “I really appreciate that. I—”

Coran waved a hand gently in the air between them, “No thanks necessary, my boy. This is a family,” he gestured to the floor as a whole and a few people looked up and smiled at him as Coran did so. “And the family wouldn’t be complete without you in it. We’re more than happy to wait.”

There were only 3 people Keith hugged consistently— and it should be noted that he only initiated those hugs about forty percent of the time— and Coran was certainly not one of them. They were Lance, Shiro and Adam in that order and he liked to keep it that way. But still, he gave out the occasional hug here or there and this seemed like one of the times for an occasional hug. Without much thought he stepped forward and embraced Coran, the other man returning the hug in kind, squeezing him in a way that was both painful and comforting and Keith laughed into it.

They separated a moment later and Coran smiled encouragingly at him again. “Keep me updated on how you’re doing, okay? And say hi to Lance for me.”

“I will do both of those things.” Keith promised.

With another brief pat on the shoulder, Coran left Keith to his own devices. He didn’t have any other reason to stay at the office so he started to leave but paused. He turned back to his desk, looking at the picture of him and Lance again. That uneasiness settled in his stomach once more at the look on Lance’s face. He loved it, loved how happy Lance looked. He wanted to give Lance that kind of happiness again but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to. He brushed his fingers against the glass covering the picture once before turning and heading out of the office.

He took the elevator down and waved to the girl at the front desk on his way out. She smiled and waved back as she answered the phone. He pushed through the front doors and out into the cool fall air, relishing in the way it ruffled his hair and cleared his head. He tried to force away the unsettled feeling and focus on the fact that a piece of his future had just become clear and it was a large stressor off of his plate.

Out of instinct or habit, Keith wasn’t sure, he reached for his phone and dialed Lance’s number.

The phone only rang once before Lance picked it up. “Hey!”

“Hey,” Keith replied as he walked down the sidewalk and towards the main road. Shiro had offered to come back and pick him up but he wasn’t ready to go home yet. He wanted to enjoy the fall air a little more. “Guess what.”

“Hm,” Lance hummed as he pretended to think. “You… finally adopted that puppy I’ve been begging you for since, like, the day we met?”

“No,” Keith laughed, the sound coming much easier to him now than it had with Coran. “You can barely keep yourself alive, I’m not trusting you with a puppy.”     “I resent that. I am still alive and kicking despite you not being around lately,” Lance said it as airily as he could. Keith could hear the way he was trying to make light of the situation.

“Yeah?” Keith kept his own tone light to show Lance that he didn’t mind the teasing. It helped to be teased about it. It made the whole thing feel less significant than it was, which he just needed sometimes. “Nobody has been checking in on you? Not Pidge or Hunk?”

“You know what? I’m going to hang up on you.”

Keith laughed again. “No, no, don’t do that. I called for a reason. Two reasons, actually.”

Lance’s voice filled his ear immediately and he could hear the smile in it. “Was one of them to bully me?”

“Oh, you’re right. Three reasons.” Another breeze blew by, lifting Keith’s hood off his back and brushing his hair away from his shoulders. He turned the corner, content to just walk a few laps around the block to enjoy the outdoors.

In the background of Lance’s side of the conversation, Keith could hear some clanging. It sounded like he was in the kitchen. “You’ve got three seconds to tell me what you want, Kogane, or I’m hanging up on you.”

“Someone is sensitive today.”

“One—” Lance’s voice was a playful warning on the other end.

Keith shoved his free hand into his pocket. “Honestly, you treat me like this when I call you just to chat?”

“Two—”

“Okay,” Keith let out an exaggerated sigh into the receiver and was rewarded with a laugh from Lance. “I just left my meeting with Coran.”

“Oh yeah? How’d it go?” Something clattered in the background and Lance let out a low curse under his breath.

Keith stopped at the corner, waiting for the crosswalk to turn so he could continue along. “Really well. He said my job would be waiting for me no matter how long it took me to be ready to come back.”

“That’s great!” Lance replied instantly. “I’m not surprised though, he’s really a great guy.”

“Yeah, so I’ve gathered.”

A beat of silence passed before Lance let out another low curse. “Not to rush you off because you know I love talking to you, but I’m about to be late to work.”

“Oh, you definitely should go then.” Keith replied.

Before he had a chance to say the goodbye that was poised on his tongue, Lance said, “Not until you tell me what the other thing is!”

Keith faltered as he finally got the cross signal and headed to the other side of the street. He had to dodge a few other people who were also crossing but he didn’t mind. He liked being out in society on his own again instead of holding himself up in Adam’s room and avoiding the world. “Well, I was gonna see if you wanted to do something later but you have to work so that’s obviously a no.”

“It is not,” Lance retorted. He sounded like he had put Keith on speaker phone. “You’ll just have to come by the restaurant. But I’d love that if you’re up for it.”

“Really?”

“Keith just assume that I  always  want you around, okay?” He could hear the phone being picked up and then suddenly Lance’s voice was louder, confirming that he had, indeed, just been on speaker phone. “You never have to ask if I want to hang out, my answer is always yes.”

The breeze was no match for the warmth that flooded Keith’s cheeks at those words. “Okay,” He said quietly and he knew Lance could hear the grin in his voice. “I’ll come by the restaurant later, then. I’ll text you when I’m on my way?”

“Sounds perfect, I can’t wait. Everyone will be thrilled to see you again, especially Kolivan.” Lance laughed. “Oh god, he’s practically gonna tackle you when you come in the door. Be warned.”

“Wear a helmet, got it.” Lance laughed on the other end and Keith paused his walking just to listen to it. “Hey what do I own that matches a helmet? I still want to look good, you know?”

“You’re an idiot,” Lance’s voice was so fond that Keith could barely handle it. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“In a few hours,” Keith confirmed. “Bye.”

Lance murmured a goodbye, still laughing to himself and then the phone line went dead. Keith stared at his phone for a moment before sending a quick text to Shiro requesting a pickup in ten minutes and then shoving it into his pocket and finishing his lap around the block, a smile on his face the whole time.

—

Lance had come into work practically bouncing from one foot to the next with excitement, biting back a large grin as he hummed quietly to himself while cooking. Hunk was stationed on the stove next to him, glancing sideways at him on occasion and trying to hold back a large smile of his own. It wasn’t hard to tell that Hunk knew exactly what Lance’s mood was about— they were best friends after all and could reach each other with the utmost ease. Still, Hunk held his tongue and waited for Lance to say it before making any comments.

Lance held out as long as he could, he really did. But as long as he could just wasn’t very long. He’d only been at work for fifteen minutes before turning to Hunk and exclaiming, “Keith is coming by the restaurant tonight! And it was his idea!”

Like the good friend he was, Hunk beamed back at Lance, “I knew it!” He laughed, nudging Lance gently with his shoulder. “I’m so happy to hear that. Gosh, it feels like it wasn’t that long ago that you were this excited telling me about your first few dates with him.”

The memories were fond, but Lance tried not to dwell on them often. Still, he couldn’t stop the smile that controlled his lips at Hunk’s words. “It has that same kind of thrill now, honestly.” He replied after a moment. “Even though it’s not the first time—”

“Or the second, or third, or forth…” Hunk added in with a laugh.

Lance swatted playfully at him with his spatula before flipping the burger on the stove. “Even though it’s not the first time,” he repeated with emphasis, “It still kind of feels that way. I have butterflies, Hunk! Butterflies!”

The door to the kitchen opens and one of the waitresses comes back to pick up her order. Hunk and Lance both fall quiet as she does so. The entire restaurant knew about Keith— hell, the entire  world  probably knew how much Lance loved Keith— but still he didn’t necessarily enjoy divulging his feelings to everyone. Hunk was an exception, and he’d tell Hunk absolutely anything. At any time of day. Hunk had no escape from Lance and his feelings, not that he wanted one. But he didn’t like the idea of other ears listening to him gush about being nervous to see his boyfriend of two years.

Once she was gone and it was back to just the two of them in their corner of the kitchen, Lance resumed his train of thought. “I mean, it feels so normal for him to be coming here and that kind of… terrifies me?”

“Of course it does,” Hunk replied reasonably, stepping off to the side to begin chopping some peppers. “You haven’t had anything feel normal for a while and the idea  should  scare you. But,” Hunk paused in his chopping and glanced up at Lance. “I like seeing you like this. You seem happy again.”

There was a moment of silence where Lance let the fondness wash over him. His life had been turned upside down the day of that accident and he had never been more terrified, but he had persevered and found his way back to Keith. Or maybe Keith had found his way back to Lance. Either way, they were together again and Lance was once again able to talk to Hunk about everything and  god  had he missed his life feeling like this.

“I am,” He could hear the happiness in his own voice and his heart swelled with it. He was so grateful for everything he had and he swore to never take it for granted ever again.

“You know,” Hunk said with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Lance looked away and resumed cooking the food on the grill, knowing that expression all too well. “It’s kind of like watching you two fall in love all over again.”

Immediately Lance could feel his cheeks flush with heat but he wasn’t sure why. He  did  love Keith, more than anything else in the world, and he’d never made a secret of it. Still, he didn’t want to presume how Keith was feeling, especially after everything he’d gone through. And with everything feeling new and fresh all over again, it felt like a first confession, The butterflies erupted in his stomach and he could feel them taking flight through his veins, traveling all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes.

“Don’t just say shit like that!” He cried, ducking his head and pulling the collar of his apron up simultaneously to try and cover his flush. “Plus, Keith’s been through a lot, there’s no way of knowing how he feels!”

“Lance, I love you man, but you’re an idiot.” Hunk said with a fond roll of his eyes.

Before Lance had a chance to retort, he noticed Kolivan standing in the entrance of the kitchen, watching the two of them with his eyebrows raised. “Did someone mention Keith?”

“Oh, yeah, he’s stopping by later. I don’t know how long he’s going to stay though.” Lance replied, smiling at the way Kolivan’s eyes immediately lit up.

He practically clapped his hands together in excitement as he entered the room fully, crossing to stand just between Lance and Hunk. “He is? That’s excellent news! When is he coming?”

Hunk was hiding a grin over Kolivan’s shoulder but Lance didn’t mind. He liked that Kolivan liked Keith, welcomed Keith into the family that was their staff. He liked that Kolivan followed Keith’s condition and missed him when he wasn’t around enough. Because Kolivan was more than a boss to Lance, he was a friend, a member of his chosen family. And Keith was everything to Lance— more than everything, if that were possible— so it meant the world to him to have Keith so warmly accepted and welcomed.

“He should be here pretty soon, actually.” Lance glanced at the clock that hung over the door to the main dining area of the restaurant.

“Does he—?” Kolivan didn’t have to finish his sentence for Lance to know what it was going to be. ‘ Does he remember me? ’.

“I don’t— I don’t think so.” It was hard for Lance to say but it was the truth.

Instead of looking disappointed like Lance expected, Kolivan smiled. “Ah, a second chance to make a first impression. This time, I swear I won’t embarrass you.”

—

All of Lance’s closest friends had met Keith and his parents and siblings had video chatted with him on more than one occasion. It was finally time for Lance to introduce Keith to the next set of important people in his life— his second family, his work family. He’d been raving about Keith around them for so long and constantly gushing about how happy he was. It was only right that they met him. Especially since Lance spent so much of his time at work and Keith had offered on multiple occasions to come and pick him up from work.

It wasn’t that Lance hadn’t wanted them to meet— the exact opposite, really— but that he’d wanted their meeting to be official. He wanted to introduce Keith to everyone properly, not have him stroll in randomly one afternoon with no warning or explanation.

“So,” Kolivan was leaning over the bar in the restaurant, a grin on his face. “You’re the boy Lance won’t stop talking about.”

Hunk erupted into laughter next to Lance who was turning a million shades of red. Keith, for his part, was grinning slyly as he glanced at Lance, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

“Can’t stop talking about me, huh?” Keith teased, looking back at Kolivan. “That sounds like Lance.”

“Oh yes,” There was a clear air of teasing on Kolivan’s voice, but it didn’t stop it from being mortifying anyways. “He’s constantly going on about you and how amazing you are.”

“Well, I am pretty amazing,” Keith was clearly eating it up, purposely not looking at Lance and pretending he was engrossed in a serious conversation. “And very handsome, too.”

“Oh, I’ve heard lots about how handsome you are,” To his credit, Kolivan was at least able to keep a serious expression, even if it was obviously all a joke. “I think he gave you a 12.”

“A 12?”

“On a 10 point scale.”

“So what you’re saying is that I’m 120% handsome?” By this point, Keith was leaning on the counter, too and the two of them looked as if they were conspiring. Which, essentially, they were.

“At least,” Kolivan looked Keith over before smiling, “Maybe more.”

“I hate you both. So much.” Lance dropped his face into his hands, getting no relief when Hunk rubbed an encouraging hand along his spine.

With a satisfied smile, Kolivan extended a hand to Keith, “I’m Kolivan, Lance’s boss.”

“I’m Keith,” He replied, still smiling smugly and shaking Kolivan’s hand, “Lance’s handsome boyfriend. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“I really have heard great things about you,” Kolivan continued as if he hadn’t just managed to shoot Lance down in one sentence. “And I have been looking forward to meeting you.”

This time it was Keith’s turn to flush a few shades of red. He stumbled over his words as he replied, “Ah that’s very kind of you. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you as well. I know Lance loves working for you.”

“He’s a good guy, that one.” Kolivan smiled at Lance who was still hunched forward at one of the tables in the dining room. “Someone you need to try your hardest to hold on to.”

Most of the wait staff had already met Keith because Kolivan had been on the phone when he’d arrived. They’d said their hellos and their goodbyes and gone for the day. Lance was honestly thankful for that because Kolivan seemed to be making a sport of saying embarrassing things. Still, seeing the smile that lit up Keith’s face and watching his eyes search the room until they landed on Lance was worth it.

“Yeah,” Keith said as he held Lance’s gaze, “He definitely is that.”

Straightening up, Kolivan stepped around the bar and clapped Keith on the shoulder. “I think we’re going to get along very well.”

“Are you going to keep trying to embarass Lance?” Keith asked.

“Trying?” Kolivan sounded affronted, “I am succeeding at embarrassing him. And yes, I’m absolutely going to continue to do so.”

With an uproarious laugh, one that Lance barely ever got to hear, Keith clapped Kolivan on the shoulder back. “I am certain we are going to get along then.”

—

“You know,” Lance smiled fondly at Kolivan who was watching his expression closely. For all his jokes and his humor, Kolivan was a really good-hearted, solid person and he was constantly thinking of Lance’s best interest. “It wasn’t so bad. Feel free to embarrass me again.”

“Be careful giving me that freedom,” Kolivan warned, smiling at Lance before turning back towards the door. “You never know how far I’ll run with it.”

“You don’t scare me!” Lance called playfully after his retreating back. Once Kolivan was gone, he turned to Hunk with feigned concern. “Do you think I have to warn him not to tackle Keith?”

The way Hunk was looking at Lance made him pause in the midst of cooking. It wasn’t a bad look. It was a good look, actually. A look that was soft and fond and made Lance realize exactly where this moment was leading him. It made him realize that he was happy and giddy and that he’d gotten back everything he felt like he’d lost. He smiled back at Hunk, his best friend, the one person who had picked him up— literally, in some cases— more times than Lance could count.

“Have I ever thanked you for everything you’ve done for me?” He asked after a moment.

“You don’t need to thank me for being your best friend, Lance.” Hunk looked like  he  had never been happier, like watching his best friend live his dreams was more than he could ever want in life. “But yes, you have. A whole bunch of times.”

With a smile, Lance turned back to the stove and resumed cooking. They worked in silence for a few minutes, Hunk chopping things up and tossing them onto the grill and Lance cooking and plating. The two of them had always worked well as a team and they found it fun to work together. Lance was absorbed in his thoughts of Keith and the trials and tribulations they’d gone through, working mostly on auto pilot. Once he caught himself with his hand lagging, getting too close to the surface of the stove for comfort. He yanked his hand away, preventing another burn to his hand and glanced at Hunk who was already looking at him.

“You really are an idiot sometimes,” He said in a way that had no bite. Hunk would never insult anyone genuinely, Lance knew. He was such a kind and caring person that he didn’t even jokingly say things that could be hurtful unless he knew that person very well and was absolutely certain that they would understand he was teasing.

“You said that earlier,” Lance remarked, sneering playfully.

“I said it earlier because you can’t see what’s right in front of your face. I’m saying it now because you really almost burned your same hand a second time.” With a shake of his head, Hunk resumed chopping but Lance could feel him keeping tabs on Lance’s actions as he did so.

Lance rolled his eyes before dishing up another dinner and placing it on the table behind him for the server to come grab. He could hear the other kitchen members chatting amongst themselves as they worked in their respective parts of the kitchen, but he couldn’t quite make out what any of them were saying, If he listened  really  closely, he’d likely be able to piece together enough information to understand what they were going on about, but he wasn’t that interested. Instead, he was interested in Hunk’s words.

“Can’t see what’s right in front of me?”

To that, Hunk put down his knife and turned to face Lance fully. “C’mon, Lance, seriously? Keith is still as in love with you as he’s ever been. I mean, everything you’ve told me has made it completely obvious.”

Struck and overwhelmed by Hunk’s words, Lance sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m just saying, he has a lot going on and a lot to figure out. I’m sure he hasn’t spared much thought to his feelings for the guy from his forgotten past.”

“You are his future, Lance. Not his past.”

“Just—” Lance turned away quickly, feeling the blush burn all the way to the tips of his ears. He wanted more than anything for Hunk to be right but he wasn’t willing to let himself think like that yet, Things were just starting to level out and he wasn’t about to risk ruining it. He’d been lucky enough to get a second chance and he was absolutely not about to mess it up by being presumptuous or moving too fast. “Just finish chopping!”

Hunk laughed next to him, picking his knife back up.

—

“This is ridiculous.” Shiro was sitting in the driver’s seat, staring at Keith who had a petrified hand frozen on the door handle. “You’ve done this a million times. You don’t need to be nervous.”

Keith flexed his hand on the handle a few times. He was sure that Shiro was absolutely correct. Plus, things with Lance had been going so well that he had no trouble believing that Lance would, indeed, be thrilled to see him. Still, that seed of worry was growing slowly in the back of his mind, sprouting until it filled him completely with shreds of doubt. Not doubt that Lance wanted him and certainly not doubt that he wanted Lance, but doubt about whether or not this was the right thing to be doing.

“Anyways,” Shiro gave him a slight shove towards the door. “Will you bring Adam and I home the usual? Just ask Lance for that and he’ll know what we want.”

Before he had a chance to hesitate any more, Keith pushed open the door and climbed out, confirming with Shiro that he would bring home their food. Shiro pulled away quickly, almost as if he wanted to prevent Keith from losing his nerve and getting back in the car. Keith watched as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the street, his back to the restaurant. Logically he knew this wasn’t a big deal, but that didn’t stop his emotions from swirling around wildly in the pit of his stomach.

“Keith?” He heard the door open a moment before he heard his name being spoken.

Keith spun on his heel to look at the person addressing him, surprised to find that he vaguely recognized him. “Kolivan?”

“Aren’t you going to come in?” Kolivan stepped outside fully, holding the door open so Keith could enter. With nothing left to do and no way out, Keith stepped through the door with a soft thanks and waited just inside for Kolivan to follow. “How have you been?”

“Well,” Keith shuffled a little to the side, slipping his hands in his pockets for lack of something better to do. “I’ve been worse.”

There was something gentle in the way Kolivan was looking at him that made Keith feel like he was about to crack, “You’ve been better, too.”

It was the first time someone had acknowledged all that had happened to him in a way that didn’t make him feel like a burden. Kolivan wasn’t putting any expectations on him, wasn’t asking for an explanation, he was simply acknowledging all that had happened to Keith in the kindest way he knew how.  Suddenly Keith  was  cracking, feeling for the first time like it was okay to fall apart. Not that anyone else had made him feel like he couldn’t, but he hadn’t wanted to fall apart around anyone else. He wanted to be strong for them so that they could be weak.

“Yeah,” He said quietly, his gaze directed at the ground. “I’ve been better before.” Kolivan was nodding at him, encouraging him to continue. “It’s just— I don’t know how to be myself anymore.”

“What makes you think you can be anyone else?” Kolivan adjusted so he was standing in front of Keith and, even though Keith wasn’t looking up at him, he could feel Kolivan’s strong gaze. “Keith, I’ve known you long enough now to say with absolute confidence that no matter what happens, you’ll always be the same person. In here,” he tapped a gentle finger over Keith’s heart, “Things don’t change.”

He had spent weeks since his accident wishing he remembered everything from those two years and  still  the ache of that missing knowledge overwhelmed him in a rush. He recognized Kolivan to an extent, but that was about it. He didn’t remember anything about him— it was more of just a feeling of familiarity. But the way Kolivan talked about him made him realize, yet again, that he’d had a life for those two years and suddenly it had been ripped from his mind.

“I wish it felt that way. I really do. But instead I’m stuck wishing I remembered more. Or remembered anything at all, really. I feel like—” He paused, unsure of whether or not he should  say his next thought.

Allura had explained this to him once. She said that sometimes a situation will bring forward a thought and he’ll feel the need to acknowledge it, even if it’s out of place or with someone he would normally never talk to. She said those are the powerful thoughts, the ones that really matter to him and if it ever happens, he  should  say whatever it is out loud. And then later he was supposed to think about it and figure out  why  that thought had gripped him. This time, however, he didn’t need to put any extra thought into it. He knew exactly where this was coming from and why he was saying it.

“I feel like I’m letting a lot of people in my life down. I feel like they deserve better. You, Shiro, Adam, Lance, everyone. I feel like everyone deserves better.” The words rushed out of him, making him feel deflated.

And suddenly the weight was off his chest, making him feel like he could collapse in on himself. For the last few weeks, Lance and sheer denial had been holding Keith together and getting him through each day. And suddenly the denial was gone. It was a relief, even if it left him feeling empty.

“Well, technically speaking,” Kolivan stepped back just enough for Keith to be able to look up into his face. His expression was gentle and open, “I can’t actually speak for anyone other than myself. But I can say that you aren’t letting  me  down. And I’m willing to bet you aren’t letting anyone else down either.”

The restaurant was full of people who were eating happily and chatting amongst themselves. Keith took a minute to look around at everyone and recognize the way their lives were moving on normally, as if nothing were out of place. To them, nothing  was  out of place. “It feels that way.”

“Well, the only way to prove that isn’t the case is to ask. So next time you feel like you’re letting, say, Lance down, just ask him. I think you’ll be surprised by his response.” Kolivan sidestepped so he could throw an arm around Keith’s shoulders and pull him into a half hug. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Nobody else is being that hard on you.”

Keith returned the half hug, feeling better than he had been earlier. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing but the truth. Remember that.”

With a smile, Kolivan gestured to one of the waiters who ducked into the back. A moment later, Lance appeared through the door on the back wall.

“Hey ba—” He paused, clearing his throat and offering a sheepish smile. “Keith. Hey, Keith.”

With a chuckle under his breath and a sharp look from Lance, Kolivan let go of Keith and stepped away. “Well, I think you’re busy for the rest of the evening. Let me know if you need anything. And Keith?” Kolivan turned to meet his eyes for a brief moment before going, “It’s really good to see you again. We’ve missed you around here.”

He disappeared before Keith got a chance to thank him again but he left Keith with a soft smile as Lance approached. “Are you sure it’s okay that I’m here?”

“Absolutely! Come on back, Hunk is looking forward to seeing you!” Lance tugged gently on his arm, holding his wrist loosely as he guided him towards the back.

It was strange for Keith, who definitely did not work there, to step into the back with the rest of the staff. But everyone smiled at him as he entered and was led to a small table in the corner by the stove. A few people even greeted him by name.

“Keith! It’s nice to see you out and about!” Hunk waved to him from his spot near the stove. “And in some real clothes,” He joked.

“You didn’t like my hospital gown?” He feigned offense, “I was the height of fashion in that.”

That surprised a laugh out of Hunk, “Same old Keith,” He murmured.

Lance was glancing between the two of them with an expression that could only be described as awe. It looked like he’d never seen something he liked as much as this moment and that thought made Keith’s heart triple in size.

Still, he couldn’t resist taking a jab at Lance. “Don’t you have a job to do?”

“Listen here, Kogane,” Lance was pulling an apron over his head and then tying it in the back. He looked silly but in a way that was completely endearing. “If you’re gonna be like that, I’m not going to give you the food I made you.”

“You made me food?”

In lieu of an answer, Lance turned around and plucked a plate of delicious looking food off the counter, holding it out for Keith. It appeared to be chicken and vegetables, arranged beautifully on a simple pale yellow plate. Lance handed the plate over before turning around and grabbing some silverware and offering that to Keith, as well. As if on cue, he could feel his stomach rumbling. He hadn’t been eating particularly well— though it had been getting better as time passed— since his accident and he knew it has been worrying Shiro and Adam. It figures that they’d express this to Lance.

“Are you—” He began to double check but Lance cut him off immediately.

“Just eat. It’s your favorite.”

Normally Keith hated when people told him things about himself. But this was okay because chicken and veggies had been his favorite dish his entire life and he even remembered telling Lance about it one night in the library when they were both delusional from studying. Somehow they had gone from preparing for finals to discussing their favorite late night snack, which eventually turned into favorite dinner. It could’ve been excused if Lance were in any sort of culinary class at the time, but he hadn’t been, he was just taking his gen eds.

Coran’s words suddenly flashed through Keith’s mind as he lifted the fork and knife and began cutting into the food. He glanced up at Lance, sincerely and properly saying, “Thank you.”

Lance looked over at him from his place by the counter and suddenly Keith felt like he’d done this a million times before. He had, he knew, but this was the first time he could  feel  it. The first time he felt that level of comfort, familiarity and just… belonging. He smiled as he took a bite of his chicken, relishing in how great it tasted.

—

Lance and Hunk were both doubled over in laughter while Keith sat smugly in his chair, legs drawn up to his chest and arms wrapped around them. He was smiling proudly at the joke he’d made that had rendered the other two temporarily incapable of continuing with their work. In front of him was an empty plate that had once held his favorite meal, made specially for him by the man he loved.

A moment passed where Keith just watched the two of them laughing, feeling overwhelmed with happiness. He knew that this moment was perfect— the kind of moment he would want to relive when having a bad day. It was the kind of moment that left a mark on his soul, making it forever a part of who he was.

As if understanding exactly how he was feeling, Lance straightened up and crossed the room. Suddenly there was a hand on the back of Keith’s chair and another hand on the table next to him. Lance was looming over him, smile still on his lips. Keith was seized by the urge to feel that smile, to taste it against his lips. He reached up, gentle brushing his fingers across Lance’s cheek until they were tangled in the hair at the base of his neck, drawing him down, down, down…

—

Keith snapped back to reality, his cheeks flaming. He attempted to duck his head and eat his plate of food quietly, but Hunk caught his eye with a big grin. Clearing his throat, Keith took a bite and pretended to be casual, despite feeling anything but.

“This is delicious,” He said after he swallowed. “Oh! That reminds me, Shiro asked me to bring home the usual for him and Adam? He said you’d know what that means.”

“Can do!” Lance said, immediately wandering over to the fridge and pulling out some ingredients.

Hunk, too, seemed to understand what was happening and began pulling out different bowls and pans and setting them out for Lance to use. They worked quickly, talking to each other and making sure to include Keith when he could talk. He mostly sat and ate his food, enjoying how good it tasted and just relishing in the company. He hadn’t been around too many people lately and the hustle of the fast paced kitchen was a really nice change for him.

After a little while, Kolivan popped into the back, smiling when his eyes landed on Keith, “It’s so nice to see you at that table again.”

“I agree.” Lance replied with a smile that could take Keith’s breath away any time.

“Lance,” Kolivan turned his attention back to the boy suddenly, “You are welcome to leave whenever you want,”

“We’re cooking for Shiro and Adam, but I might take off after that if you’re sure you’re fine.” He replied.

“You’ve put in more than enough hours lately, I promise we can manage.” Kolivan didn’t look at Keith on his way out, but Keith understood all the same.

Keith watched the exchange silently, but he got the clear impression that it was his fault Lance had been working so much. It didn’t surprise him if he were being honest with himself. Lance was the kind of person who always needed to stay busy and that was especially true when he had something he was trying to cope with. He thought again to the time Lance had arrived with his hand bandaged and wondered if that, too, had been indirectly his fault. The weariness from before bubbled up again, settling into the pit of his stomach and fighting with the delicious meal he’d just eaten.

“Hey,” Lance was suddenly standing above him, nudging his leg gently with his knee. “I know that face. Don’t think like that, okay? I just had a lot of free time to fill.”

Keith glanced away, “Can you stop reading my mind?”

Gently, Lance reached a hand out and threaded it through his hair. Keith tried his best not to lean into the touch, not to close his eyes in contentment or let out a soft sigh. “I absolutely will not stop doing that.” Lance laughed as his thumb traced a pattern against the skin of his cheek. “Why would I ever give up my best advantage?”

“It’s not fair,” Keith murmured quietly.

“Oh, it is. I think you’d find that you can read my mind if you really tried.” Lance gently removed his hand, looking like he missed the contact as much as Keith did. “But the food will be done any minute. Do you need a ride home?”

Keith glanced at the clock over the door, surprised to find that a couple of hours had already passed. They’d been so lost in work and idle conversation that he hadn’t even noticed. “That’d be great.”

“Okay, once I box up the food, we can go.”

“How much do I owe you for it?” Keith asked, straightening up in his chair slightly.

Lance chuckled to himself as he began to dish the food into styrofoam carry out boxes. “Nothing. Family doesn’t pay for food from here.”

“What? But Kolivan must want people to pay for his food.”

This time it was Hunk who laughed. “You’d offend Kolivan if you tried to pay, trust me. Family gets food free and all three of you definitely count as family to us.”

Touched, Keith smiled slightly and waited for Lance to finish boxing up the food. Once he was done, he bid a farewell to Hunk and the other staff who was waving to him. He stopped on the way out the door specifically to thank Kolivan one more time and found that he couldn’t leave without a hug. He had committed Kolivan’s words to heart and swore to himself that he was going to live up to them. After that, he followed Lance to the door.

Lance burst into laughter as they walked out of the restaurant, throwing his arms out to the side. Rain was  pouring  down on them. Keith pulled the plastic bag full of Adam and Shiro’s dinner close to his body and tied the top shut, hoping to keep as much rain out as possible. His hair was already sticking to his forehead and neck, but he hardly noticed. Lance turned to face him then, running a hand through his own hair and slicking it back. Keith’s mouth instantly went dry at the look.

“Can you believe this rain?” Lance had to yell to be heard over the sound of the drops pounding against the pavement. His grin was so wide it practically split his face open.

Keith had to will his breath not to be stolen from him. He had  always  been attracted to Lance, even before they started dating, when they were just friends. From the moment he had run into Lance in that coffee shop, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. Practically everyday after that they were together which meant that Keith had to spend every day looking at Lance’s lips and wondering how they tasted. He had to fight himself on a daily basis to not reach out and thread his fingers into Lance’s hair. And when Lance leaned in for a hug, he had to let go at a reasonable time instead of pulling Lance even closer, feeling the way their bodies fit together.

The most unfortunate part of the two missing years of memories was the fact that there were a lot in there— apparently, at least— that he would kill to have. He remembered looking at Lance every day, dreaming of pinning him to the nearest wall, muffling any argument with a kiss. He had thought endlessly about what Lance’s lips would feel like, parting underneath his, sharing a breath with him. And apparently he  knew  what that was like, he just couldn’t remember. The thought killed him.

“C’mon,” Lance was waving a hand through the air, “I parked across the street. We gotta get going or we’re going to get soaked!”

“We’re  already  soaked!” Keith called back, falling into step behind Lance.

The street lights shone off the wet ground, illuminating Lance in a way that made him glow. The lights outlined Lance just so, and made him look more beautiful than he had ever looked. He looked soft and gentle and Keith knew he was, but he wouldn’t break. Lance would meet Keith’s fierce kiss and needy fingers with a breathless laugh, Keith knew. Keith could press Lance up against the wall and all Lance would do is draw him in closer. He knew that anything he threw at Lance he would be able to handle and give back twofold. But that didn’t mean that he should act on these desires.

Keith watched Lance’s back as they hustled towards the road, looking at the way his shoulders moved under his shirt. Lance’s clothes were plastered to his body, leaving nothing to the imagination and Keith couldn’t stop himself from staring. To be honest, he wasn’t even trying. He followed the curve of Lance’s spine, the rise of and fall of his hips as he jogged up to the street. He watched with greedy eyes as Lance turned to wave him on, his shirt riding up slightly and revealing a thin strip of skin.

Lance paused at the road and looked both ways. Keith could see the drops of water sliding down his cheeks and neck and he had to swallow. The sudden urge to lean forward and kiss those drops off his neck seized Keith and he had to suppress a groan as he tore his eyes away. Except, there wasn’t anywhere he could look that didn’t kill him. Lance’s dripping hair was curling at the base of his neck and slicked off his forehead and Keith wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through it, getting to the back of Lance’s head and pulling him into a crushing kiss. He had never wanted Lance as badly as he did right now and it was physically painful.

The ache in his gut was deep and all encompassing. He could feel the desire pulsing through his veins, spreading to every part of his body. It was a jittery sort of sensation that made him feel like he was buzzing. All this energy was pooling in his fingertips and he had to get it out somehow. He  wanted  to get it out by fisting his fingers into Lance’s shirt and pulling him hard to his own chest. He  wanted  to use that energy on Lance, their tongues swirling and hands roving. He  wanted  Lance to be the outlet, but he knew that he shouldn’t let it be.

Keith tried to distract himself with the feeling of the rain on his back, but it didn’t work. He knew that Lance loved rain. Lance had always loved rain. He would always say something about it being soothing and washing away sins. Keith couldn’t possibly disagree more. As he stood there, watching Lance dart across the street, one hand holding his loose black work pants up as he ran, he had never felt more worked up. His biggest sin was the fact that he was holding on to Lance, despite the fact that he was holding him back. The rain wasn’t doing anything to soothe that, either. If anything, it made him want to hold onto Lance tighter, to bring him closer until they were no longer two separate people. Lance glanced back at him, his blue eyes flashing in the bright lights of the street lamps and Keith forced himself to follow.

The entire walk to the car Keith was telling himself repeatedly to just keep his hands to himself. Things with Lance were good right now and he was incredibly lucky for that. After everything that had happened, he was lucky to have Lance around at all. There was no reason he should push it. It didn’t matter that Lance was licking the rain off his lips, making Keith wish  he  were the one doing it. It didn’t matter that Lance was rummaging in his pocket for his car keys, accidentally pushing his pants even lower on his hips. Keith had to turn his face away to hide the red that he knew was coating his cheeks. He shoved his free hand deep into his own pocket, balling it into a tight fist and trying to get control of himself.

The lights on the car flashed as Lance unlocked it and Keith took the chance to step closer to the car and further from Lance. He hated himself for these uncontrolled feelings. He hated that he was so close to the edge, just a moment from toppling over and free falling. He knew Lance would meet him in the middle, Lance  always  met him in the middle, but he had already given Lance enough to deal with. It wasn’t fair to pile more on. Plus, Lance hadn’t made a single move on him since they had agreed to try and make things work so there was no reason for him to assume Lance even  wanted  anything like this.

Lance stepped up to his side again, reaching past him for the door. Keith refused to look at him still. He wondered if they had experienced anything like this in the two years he had forgotten. Is that why it wasn’t killing Lance? Because he had already experienced it? Keith sighed.

“Here,” Lance pulled open the back door and Keith quickly put the food inside to stop it from getting any colder.

Lance slammed the back passenger door shut and turned to look at Keith, positioned between him and the car. The rain was icy against his skin, but Keith had never felt more hot. They looked at each other for a long moment, their eyes locked and their breath mingling. There was a flicker of  something  in Lance’s eyes that made what little self control Keith had left crumble a little further. He watched as Lance’s eyes flicked down to his lips, trying to ignore the heat pooling in his stomach. He could feel his breath being stolen when Lance bit the corner of his own lip, raising his eyes to meet Keith’s again. There was an unspoken question in his gaze.

Lance reached up gently to push a few stray pieces of hair out of Keith’s eyes and that was the breaking point. Keith didn’t even think twice. He reached up and cupped the back of Lance’s head, pulling him down into a fierce kiss. Lance responded immediately, his one hand resting on Keith’s shoulder and the other giving his belt loop a tug until they were flush against each other. Keith couldn’t suppress the groan that rose in his throat at the feeling of Lance’s warm chest pressed against him, a stark contrast to their freezing atmosphere. He stepped forward boldly, Lance taking a large step back in kind. He felt the moment Lance’s back came in contact with the car and leaned even further in, bending the boy backwards until Lance was pressed firmly against the car and he was pressed firmly against Lance.

They moved in sync, shifting their heads so their lips fit together easier. Lance released Keith’s belt loop and slipped his hand up the back of Keith’s shirt, pressing his fingers hard into the muscles of Keith’s back and eliciting another groan. Keith nipped gently at Lance’s bottom lip, slipping his tongue in easily when Lance let out a soft gasp. He took a moment to appreciate how  sweet  Lance tasted, feeling smugly satisfied with that fact. He had always thought that Lance would taste as sweet as his smile and he was right.

Keith’s mind seemed to stop working as they kept kissing. He lost himself in the way Lance stepped a little wider, giving Keith space to move further in. His whole body was humming with excitement and desire and it took him a few moments to realize that he was getting lightheaded. Reluctantly, Keith pulled away, gasping slightly for air. Lance was looking back at him, lips parted and cheeks flushed.

“Do you know,” Lance said as he panted for breath, “how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that?”

There was no stopping the smile that spread to Keith’s lips. “How long?”

Lance leaned forward to rest his forehead against Keith’s, only partially answering the question. “The other day when you were leaning against the wall outside the bookstore? Killed me.”

“Yeah?” Keith glanced between Lance’s eyes, overwhelmed by the sincerity there.

Instead of responding right away, Lance pressed off the car. Keith took a surprised step back but he didn’t get far before Lance was gripping him by the waist and spinning him around. He barely had a moment to register the car behind his back before Lance was hovering over him, just a hairsbreadth between their lips. “Yeah.”

Keith leaned up to capture Lance’s lips, but Lance leaned back slightly with a playful smile on his lips. A shiver wracked Keith’s body but he knew it was the anticipation, not the rain, causing it. “And how long are you going to make me wait?”

The smile on Lance’s lips changed to a grin as he leaned down and barely pecked the corner of Keith’s mouth, humming as if he were trying to decide on a response. He moved to kiss the middle of Keith’s cheek, then the edge of his jaw. One of his hands reached up to grab the hair at the base of Keith’s neck and tug his head back. Once his neck was exposed, Lance began to kiss gently there, never lingering long enough to satisfy Keith.

The moment was like one directly out of a movie— Keith pressed to the car, the love of his life draped over him, rain cascading down around them, drowning out the rest of the world. He thought about Lance’s words as they finally kissed again. He thought about the way Lance had wanted this, but waited. He was always putting Keith first, always thinking about what he wanted or what would be best for him, no matter what it cost him. Keith knew he didn’t deserve an angel such as Lance, but that didn’t stop him from rising up on his toes to kiss Lance harder.

They parted again after a few more kisses and Lance cupped his cheek gently. “As much as I’m enjoying this, I’m freezing.” He laughed.

Keith was anything but freezing but he smiled gently up at Lance and released where his hands had fisted in his shirt, giving the other boy a chance to leave. Lance leaned down and gave him one more swift kiss before moving around the car and hopping into the driver’s seat, swiftly turning on the car. Keith took a moment to try and calm his heart rate down before climbing into the car himself, soaking wet.

The heat was already blasting but it wasn’t warm yet. Lance was actively shivering in the driver’s seat but he smiled over at Keith anyways. Keith had a moment of feeling like he needed to break the silence between them, needed to acknowledge what happened, before realizing how silly that thought was. This was  Lance . He had spent hours at Lance’s side, never saying a word. In what memories he had of Lance, he knew that their company of each other was enough sometimes. They didn’t feel the need to make a big fuss about things, so Keith simply buckled his seatbelt and glanced out the window.

Lance put the car in drive and took off. It wasn’t until they were a few streets away that he finally spoke. “I hope Adam and Shiro’s food is still warm by the time it makes it to them.”

Keith couldn’t stop the laugh that rose in his throat at the thought of explaining to them  why  their food wasn’t hot. “I don’t think they’ll mind.”

[janiedean]

“I like age gaps in ships” please fuck off

Bruce Springsteen’s Youngstown is a song originally written for his 1995 record The Ghost of Tom Joad, which won a grammy award for best new folk album and, going back to 1982′s Nebraska, picks up again on the subject of discussing social matters in the modern era United States.

Originally written as an acoustic piece, Youngstown was inspired by reading Dale Maharidge’s frankly great book (that all of tumblr should read) Journey to Nowhere: The Saga of the New Underclass, whose first four chapters are indeed focused on the saga of the town of Youngstown, Ohio, once famous for having been the most important steel producer in the United States before the mills got shut down in the late seventies/early eighties therefore bringing the city’s economy to a collapse and the unemployment rate/poverty rate to skyrocket, and therefore creating a whole new bunch of newly poor people who, in lack of skills other than manual work (in the book one of the workers says that 20% of his colleagues in the mills couldn’t even read or write, and tbqh I’d like to know if most of tumblr dot com wouldn’t help the world by getting angry that there’s such a high illiteracy degree in the US rather than at most stuff ppl on tumblr get angry about), hopped on a car with their family (or on a train on their own) and left for either Texas (where they’d be discriminated based on the Ohio license plates) or California to pick fruit (in pure Steinbeck fashion).

In this essay, I will explain you why Youngstown has some of the best lyrics ever written at least by Springsteen and how it’s a gem of a song that would eat for breakfast 99% of what people like on this godforsaken website like, while at the same time managing to join great storytelling with actual activism as it was about an issue that people feel so strongly about that they ignored it for years before then getting surprised when blue-collar workers went for Trump because he promised change.

Now, on to the lyrics!

The song opens with:

Here in northeast Ohio, back in eighteen-o-threeJames and Danny Heaton found the ore that was lining Yellow CreekThey built a blast furnace here along the shoreAnd they made the cannon balls that helped the Union win the war

This opening already shows why Springsteen is an extremely good lyricist, as in four simple lines we already learn all the backstory we need to know to have an idea of what’s up with Youngstown even if we aren’t from the US or know nothing about it anyway: we know where it is, we know when the steel producing started (1803) and who started it (James and Danny Heaton) and why (because there was ore in the area). Then we establish that everyone works with blast furnaces, the key to the entire song, and then we immediately link the steel factoring with their role in the wars the US fought, starting from Civil War cannonballs which helped the Union win the war therefore uniting the country.

Here in Youngstown, here in YoungstownMy sweet Jenny I’m sinking downHere darling in Youngstown

Except that from the refrain we know that things aren’t going well, since the narrator is sinking, and if we know (from the book but also from other sources) that Jenny was the nickname for one of the largest furnaces in the city, we immediately know what to expect from the rest of the song.

Going ahead:

Well my daddy worked the furnaces, kept ‘em hotter than hellI come home from ‘Nam worked my way to scarfer, a job that’d suit the devil as wellWell taconite coke and limestone fed my children and made my payThem smokestacks reaching like the arms of God into a beautiful sky of soot and clay

In the second stanza, we move on to the personal part of the song: the narrator talks about his daddy, suggesting that working in the furnaces was an hereditary job, and kept them hotter than hell, which introduces the second main theme in the song as in, the Heaven/Hell contrast which comes to fruition at the end. The narrator is a Vietnam veteran, so he’s supposedly a young man or young-ish, so the entire tradition of working in furnaces dates back a long time, and then he informs us that his job would suit the devil as well, connecting again with the fire/hell/hot imagery, which of course is not original but it’s immediately effective in this context, especially linked to blast furnaces.

The narrator then goes on to the economical discussion, as in, he fed his children and made his pay with the materials that go into making steel, taconite, coke and limestone, which is a rather poetic way of putting it, which keeps on in the hauntingly beautiful next line which is honestly a work of art: them smokestacks reaching like the arms of God (biblical image where God is again brought up in contrast to the previous Hell-ish immagery) into a beautiful sky of soot and clay (where we have a in-built contrast because soot and clay are not words associated with beautiful and actually soot = dirt = ugliness) suggests in a simple but haunting line how such a less than gratifying job is seen by these people as something to be proud of which creates beauty as he feeds their family and allows them to pay the bills.

Again, we have the refrain which suggests us that in Youngstown things aren’t going well, until the bridge goes into:

Well my daddy come on the Ohio works when he come home from World War TwoNow the yard’s just scrap and rubble, he said “Them big boys did what Hitler couldn’t do.”Yeah these mills they built the tanks and bombs that won this country’s warsWe sent our sons to Korea and Vietnam, now we’re wondering what they were dying for

This stanza is another proof of how Springsteen can manage to pack a lot of information into a rather short stanza without renouncing lines that drop on you like bombs ready to explode.

First, we learn that the narrator’s daddy was a WWII veteran, so there’s a direct connection in between how these people who build weapons for the US wars also fight in them (and if you read the book and know that a quarter of them couldn’t even read it’s… honestly unsettling), and then that the yard’s just scrap and rubble. “Them big boys did what Hitler couldn’t do” is lifted from a line in the book from an ex steel mill worker whose son was laid off from that exact same job and who also had fought in WWII, and proceeds to point out the severity of the situation in its haunting simplicity.

Then, we go back to the cannon balls that helped the Union win the war: since then Youngstown has built tanks and bombs that won this country’s wars along with its inhabitants but now they all closed, people are without job, the sons of the men who went to Korea and Vietnam died in there and came back to their only source of income gone, and now we’re wondering what they were dying for. Which, without saying, is implicitly but not-so-much a heavy critique of how the US government has no scruples sending men to war and then leave them to die and how the ones who survive feel betrayed when finding out they don’t even have a job anymore, or they can’t have the one job they trained for.

But it’s not over here: before the last refrain, we have:

From the Monongahela valley to the Mesabi iron rangeTo the coal mines of Appalachia, the story’s always the sameSeven hundred tons of metal a day, now sir you tell me the world’s changedOnce I made you rich enough, rich enough to forget my name

Here we went back at the beginning: the same way the first stanza told us everything we needed to know about Youngstown historically, this one tells us that Youngstown is not alone and the same economical waste and depression is to be found in all the places in the US above mentioned (Monongahela, Mesabi, Appalachia) where entire towns/counties are facing poverty because they lost their only source of income as the world changes but they’re not given the chance to change with them, because they only were trained for seven hundred tons of metal a day and now they know nothing else and so they’re told the world has moved on when they can’t move on with him.

And now we have what’s thematically the most important line of the song imo even if the next stanza is its symbolical perfect conclusion: you tell me the world’s changed once I made you rich enough, rich enough to forget my name. Here we have some vitriolic, angry criticism at the rich people who only care about their workers as long as they provide profit for them and then are ready to drop them like wasted junk the moment they’re not needed anymore and they’re rich enough to forget their name why they can’t feed their children and make their pay anymore, because of course a steel mill worker will make less than the CEO of the company selling the metal he makes or the bank taking away his house if he cannot pay for it anywhere.

Anyhow, for anyone else this would have been the climax, but since Springsteen is not the first idiot that walks by and can write a song, where anyone else would have left it there and concluded with a last refrain (same as above), he has a post-script after the refrain that ends the song without giving it the bridge-last stanza-refrain usual rock song closure:

When I die I don’t want no part of heaven, I would not do heaven’s work wellI pray the devil comes and takes me to stand in the fiery furnaces of hell

These two lines are a pure work of art in how they manage to wrap up the song by re-using thematically all the heaven/hell imagery previously established and leave the listener with an acute sense of dread.

The narrator, which before compared the smoke to the arms of God, doesn’t want to go Heaven because he wouldn’t do Heaven’s work well (let’s remember he built weapons and has fought a war, so we can assume he also is working through war-related trauma in that sense). He also prays that the devil comes and takes him which is technically an oxymoron as people don’t pray the devil (they pray to God or the angels or good entities, not to bad entities - the devil is summoned or evoked or you sell your soul to him, you don’t pray for him to come and take you), to stand in the fiery furnaces of Hell, which is the final connecting link to the before-laid-down Hell imagery and goes back to the initial furnace/hot/hell/devil imagery by giving it almost a positive spin. Indeed:

is a word that has positive connotation - strong, bright, blazing, brilliant, vivid, rich, strong, bold, passionate: same way as the workers felt about their steel mill jobs that were taken away from them and left them with a handful of nothing and struggling to make ends meet. So the ideal end is not to ascend to Heaven but to go to Hell where furnaces would be going for all eternity (furnaces only can work until they’re on and they have to be lighted up all day otherwise it takes an inane amount of money to start them again), fiery and proud, and patience if it’s Hell that’d take the narrator, because Heaven had nothing for him. And that’s why us listeners, even if not familiar with either Youngstown or its plight nor know shit about steel mills or how a blast furnaces work, at the end of the song feel upset and creeped out, because we’re put in front of a situation that’s gone to shit and where people have died and bled and worked all their life for nothing and gave themselves to wars that ultimately made the US what it is and gave it economic prosperity hoping to have their piece of the American dream and then get royally fucked and would rather go to Hell where their trade would be appreciated than ascend to Heaven like technically anyone Christian should want.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you write a damned great song that a) teaches the listeners something, b) discusses social issues within it, c) does its job of activism work as an extremely famous singer brings awareness to an issue that no politician gives a fuck about at least from what my poor Italians self can understand, d) is also not at all boring in either of its version. Actually, the original packs a punch in its quiet deliver while the electrical is just devastatingly angry and raging with that same fiery fervor described in the ending stanza, and both make an excellent job of delivering their message. Here is the original acoustic take played in Youngstown itself during the Ghost of Tom Joad tour:

Too bad that not many people on tumblr who like to pretend they’re doing activism listen to Bruce Springsteen.

Sad.

[hannahindie]

Breathe - Part 3

Pairing: Dean x Reader Series Warnings: Fatal illness, character death, blood, canon violence, language, eventual smut, kidnapping. Word Count: 3,109 Square Filled: Fatal Illness Summary: A year ago, the reader makes a decision regarding her treatment. Present day, she finds herself in over her head, and Sam and Dean are about to find out just what she’s been hiding. A/N: This is the third part of my SPN Angst Bingo Card, hosted by @spnangstbingo. It will be seven parts, and the schedule has already been posted. It will post twice a week (Monday and Friday) until it wraps up.

Beta’d by my beautiful waterbear writing soulmate, @trexrambling: “I love it when Sam gets sassy.” So do I...sassy Sam makes my life.

My twinny, @pinknerdpanda: “I read this in your voice and it made me so happy.” I like to indulge myself and put myself in things, so it always makes me happy when you find it. :)

And my beautiful, sweet angel, @masksandtruths: “Yea, it’ll be fine.” Snerk. Sure.

As always, tags are at the bottom. If you’d like to be added, please let me know!

One Year Earlier…

“No.”

My mouth is forming the words before I even realize my brain has thought them.

“I’m sorry?” The doctor looks at me, her brows raised in surprise. I would laugh at how absurd she looks if the situation at hand wasn’t so serious.

“No...I don’t think I want any of those options.” My heart is racing; I’m basically telling this woman I want to die. But that’s not entirely true, is it? I don’t want to die, but now that I’m presented with options, if I’m going to go, I want to go with some dignity.

“Y/N, there’s a chance-”

My laugh interrupts her and she frowns, her lips pressed thin as she stares at me. “I-I am so sorry,” I clear my throat as I try to calm down the hysterical laughter bubbling just below the surface, “but I just find that ridiculous. You already told me that the five year survival rate is eight percent.” I sigh, “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I am very tired. I am a deep, soul crushing tired, and honestly I just want...I want to go out the way I want to go. Do you understand? My job is hard and, honestly, I’m lucky I’ve made it as long as I have.”

Her mouth forms a little ‘o’ of surprise, and I realize that’s the closest I’ve ever come to telling someone outside the life the truth about what I do.

“But at the end of the day, I love it. It’s everything I’ve ever known, and I get to help people, and that’s what this world is about, right? So if this is going to happen, if I’m going to die, I want to be able to do so knowing I have done everything I can before I’m gone.”

“I have to strongly advise against that.”

“I know,” I smile as I stand up from the cozy chair that I’m sure is there to be a small comfort when people are receiving bad news, “but it’s what I want. I understand the repercussions.”

She nods, then pulls a sheet from the pad in front of her and holds it out to me. I reach for it, and she holds it back slightly and raises an eyebrow, “I will give you this if you promise that you will at least get checked once a month. I understand that you aren’t going to accept treatment, but I expect you to be in this office once a month for the foreseeable future. In return, I will make sure you are kept comfortable, in a responsible manner. Do we have an agreement?”

“Yea, doc, we’ve got a deal.”

She nods once, then lets the paper slip into my hand. I give her one more smile, then leave the office and head to the closest pharmacy.

The bell above the door dings as I push my way into the building. Pharmacies always have this weird vibe to them; the overhead lights cast a yellowish glow on everything, and most likely one of them is buzzing, flickering slightly as it tries to decide if it’s time to quit. The music playing quietly in the background at this particular one is some cheesy Muzak that would make any hotel elevator jealous. I hand the pharmacist my script then sit in one of the uncomfortable chairs lined up in front of the window. He looks at me, looks at the wrinkled piece of paper, then back at me. I smile, and he gives me a sad look in return. I know what that looks means. Dead girl walking.

“Not too reassuring when your pharmacist looks at you like that, is it?” I look over to see an older man, at least in his eighties, sitting several seats down, one leg crossed over the opposite knee and a cane balanced against his arm rest.

“No, not really.”

“What are you in for?”

I'm usually not much for small talk, but the glint in this man’s eye has me intrigued.

“Lung cancer. You?”

“You name it, I got it, though I do believe you got me beat on that one, sweetheart. Today it's my sugar, but I’m sure tomorrow will find something else. Then again, I like to believe that I didn't fight the Nazis and survive for something like that to take me out.”

“I like the way you think, sir.”

“Sir’s my daddy, you can call me Frank, Frankie if you're feeling cheeky.”

I wink, “I'm always feeling cheeky, Frankie.”

He grins, “Oh, to have met you in my heyday. We woulda had a ball.”

I cock an eyebrow, “Who says we can't now? As long as you don't mind my broken lungs, I think we could have some fun adventures.”

He holds up his hand and wiggles his ring finger, “I don't think my wife would approve. She's cheeky, too.”

We fall silent and I wonder what his wife is like.

“I'm sorry about your lungs, sweetheart.”

I shrug, “In my line of work, it's just a matter of time. It's a little...less violent than I assumed it would be, so that's nice.”

Frankie frowns, and again I realize I've let something slip. “What kinda job do you do?”

“I hunt monsters.”

“I understand that. Someone's gotta do it, huh?”

I know we are talking about two different kinds of monsters, but the sentiment is still there.

“Mr. Duvall?”

He stands slowly, then leans on his cane for a moment to balance himself. “That's me,” he says as he gives me one last look. “You take care of yourself.”

“You too.” He shuffles to the counter and gets his medicine, then disappears around the corner. The pharmacy falls silent again, except for the occasional pop of that one, slowly dying light.

Now…

Simple hunt my dying ass.

Sam should have been right. All his research pointed to the ghost of the husband being the culprit, stuck in a loop in an attempt to save his children.

God, I wish that was true.

Instead, it’s the entire family, including the murderous bitch that killed the rest of them. She is not having our interruption, and I suddenly find myself trapped in an upstairs room, my only defense the iron poker I had grabbed as I ran past the fireplace and up the stairs.

I look around for another way out, but there's no use. This room opens into a nursery, but there's no doors in that room and all of the windows are nailed shut. I'm gasping for air; the run from one side of the house to the other then up the stairs was too much. I cough into my hand and can tell before I even look that there's more blood.

Dammit.

I hear a thud from downstairs and a muffled sonuvabitch, then the loud bang of a shotgun going off.

“Come on, this is ridiculous!” I wiggle the doorknob, knowing it's pointless. On a good day, I might be able to kick it open, but as it is, I'm having trouble standing. Kicking doesn't really seem like an option right now. Suddenly, the air is frigid, and I can see pathetic little breath clouds trying to form in front of me. I turn slowly to see the wife slowly appear, flickering in and out of existence like some kind of video cassette from the eighties.

“You are a raging bitch, you know that? Sam is going to find your bones and he's going to burn your ass. You won't be hurting anyone else.”

It's then I realize that there's one way to get that door open. It's not a good plan, but I have to try something. “Come on, get me! I'm not moving!” I hold my arms out and drop my poker. “Look! All yours! C’mon, bitch!” Suddenly, she throws her arm out towards me and I'm airborne. I close my eyes and brace for the impact, but nothing could have prepared me for how much it was going to hurt. I hit the door and it yields with a sickening crack. For a second, I'm honestly not sure if it is the door or my spine that's making the sound, but there's not much time to think about it as I finish my descent and slam into the floor. It feels like my entire body is curled around something the wrong way, and I lay there and try to force the air in and out.

It feels like I'm drowning on land, like the air I'm trying to desperately suck in is going to be the very thing that kills me. “Dean…” I can barely speak, but I manage to roll over to my hands and knees. “Holy shit….bad...idea…” Good news, the cracking sound is the door, not my spine. The bad news, there's blood dripping from my mouth and I know I didn't get hit in the face. I spit and grimace at the amount of red on the floor. Not good.

“Dean!” A little louder this time, and I hear footsteps taking the stairs two at a time. I manage to get to my feet in time to see Mama Murder appear, less flicker and more violent than before. Great.

“Duck!”

I turn to see Dean pointing a shotgun at me and drop to my knees with a groan; it's a shame, considering I'd just managed to stand up. While he's preoccupied, I swipe my palm swiftly across my mouth and wipe away the evidence. No need for him to see that. The blast makes my ears ring, but the ghost is gone for the moment, so I slump against the wall and let my chin hit my chest.

“Thanks,” I force out, biting back the scream of pain that I want to let loose. I can feel the bruise forming on my back and it feels like my lungs are on fire. Breathing is like swallowing glass shards, and I’m worried that I may have broken a rib, which just adds insult to injury, honestly.

“What the hell happened?” he asks as he kneels next to me, taking a moment to look at the now destroyed door.

I give him a weak shrug and look up at him, my attempt at the usual smartass smirk failing as blood drips from my lip. “Well, I had to get the door open somehow.”

“Are you okay?”

His eyes are on my mouth, and now would be the time to tell him that I am not, in fact, okay, but instead I spit, then wipe my hand across my lips again, “I'm fine. She got me pretty good, I must have bitten my lip when I hit the door. No big. Help a girl up, would ya?”

He stands, offering his hand, and I grab it. It’s warm in mine, rough and gentle at the same time, and for a second my mind flashes back to another time with those hands...which is not helpful now. I gather myself as well as I can and stand with a groan. “I am getting too old for this shit.”

“You and me both.” He stares at me, his eyes traveling from my face down to my toes and back up, narrowing as he realizes how carefully I'm holding myself. “Seriously, are you okay?”

I straighten up, ignoring the way my entire body is protesting the movement, and let go of Dean’s hand. “I’m fine. Let’s just gank this bitch and get out of here. Where’s Sam?”

“I don’t know. I heard him yell something about burning bones, I guess he figured out where she is. I haven’t seen him.”

“Well, let’s go downstairs, there’s nothing up here-”

I’m cut off by what feels like a hand around my throat and then suddenly I’m airborne again. Only this time, there’s no door to slow my fall, or a wall to crash into. I hit the floor, and before I can scramble to catch myself gravity betrays me and I literally bounce down the stairs. I always thought it looked ridiculous when people on television fell down the stairs, and I have a few seconds to contemplate how stupid I must look until the wall at the bottom abruptly stops me. For the second time in five minutes, the air is knocked out of me. This time, my vision starts to go black around the edges and spots start dancing in front of me. I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on getting my lungs to cooperate. In. Out. In. Out. Dean shouts and suddenly his shotgun slides down the stairs and lands at my feet. I look up to see him held against the wall, and I gauge the distance between us.

It’s too far.

The shotgun’s range with normal ammunition wouldn’t be enough, but this is rock salt. I’ll have to get closer, and it suddenly occurs to me that if I don’t move the lie I have been telling could get Dean killed. I grab the gun and crawl to the steps and begin dragging myself up, the shotgun in one hand while the other hand grips the worn wood. He’s looking at me, his eyes rolling as he tries to catch his breath, and I pump the shotgun one-handed, another television trope I wasn’t sure actually ever happened. I manage to climb half of the stairs and stand up shakily, leaning back against the banister as I aim the shotgun.

“Let him go, you bitch,” I snarl, then shoot. She disappears with a high pitched screech, and I collapse on the steps and let the gun fall from my hand. When I look up, Dean’s on his knees, his chest heaving as he stares at me. “When I said to go downstairs, that’s not exactly what I had in mind.”

Dean shakes his head and laughs, “I was gonna say, that was a dramatic exit.”

“Well, I have to keep it interesting.” A crash comes from above us, and we both look up.

“Did you know that this place has an attic?”

I shake my head, “No, but I guess I do now.”

Sam shouts, and before Dean can run to the source of the sound, we hear a muffled found you and then feet hurrying across the floor above.

Sam pops out of one of the rooms, “We need to go.”

“Why? What did you do?” Dean asks as he gives me his hand again and I stand up gingerly. At least this time Dean isn’t going question it; I did just get thrown down the stairs.

“The better question is where the hell did you even come from?” I grimace as we start down the stairs and Dean’s brows furrow as he tightens his grip around my waist.

Sam grabs the shotgun and takes off for the front door, “Let’s talk about this outside. Actually, better yet, let’s talk about it in the car, as we’re leaving.”

We stumble outside and I turn back just in time to see the second story burst into flames. “Someone’s got some explainin’ to do.” I look back at Sam and he shrugs, and the puppy dog look on his face is nearly too much to deal with. “Was that absolutely necessary?”

Sam tosses Dean his keys, “Well, from the sounds of how hard she was kicking your asses, yes, it was necessary.”

Dean rolls his eyes and lets his arm slip from where it was resting around my waist. I’m sad, both because it was comfortable and because I can feel my body start to give up as my adrenaline begins to wear off.

“She wasn’t kicking our asses, we had it handled.”

“Right,” Sam scoffs, “if you consider Y/N getting thrown down the stairs and you getting choked out ‘having it handled’.” He air quotes that list bit, throwing a bitch face to beat all bitch faces at Dean.

“How would you even know? You didn’t see what was going on. And how did you even get up there anyway?”

“Guys…” Everything is getting blurry, and I can’t catch my breath. I reach out for Dean but my fingertips barely brush his arm; my depth perception is pretty much gone.

“Well, if you’d even tried to look around, you would have seen there was a back staircase, and a hidden entrance in one of the closets.” Sam crosses his arms and, even with blurry vision, I can tell that he’s gloating. They're picking a fine time to act like normal brothers.

“Dean.” It’s all I can get out before wracking coughs take over. I can't breathe, I can't see, I can't speak. I can taste it, the bitter metallic taste of my body working against me, tearing me apart from the inside out. I'm choking on blood, and the thought of dying throws me into a panic. I'm not ready; I just found the thing worth fighting for, even if I'm in denial about it. I have family again, a life, and I regret the decision I made to give it all up.

“Y/N!”

I fall to my knees, and I feel someone next to me, a familiar warmth, and I fold myself into it. Dean's looking down at me, his eyes full of fear, and it's the only thing I can focus on.

“C’mon, hang in there. Sammy, help me get her in the car.”

“Shouldn't we call an ambulance-”

My gasp for air and another coughing fit interrupts him, and he looks at me in horror when he sees how much blood is on my face. I may not be able to see well, but I can tell. This is bad.

“We don't have time to wait. Come on.” Dean lifts me up and Sam rushes to open the back door. He carefully slides me onto the bench seat, and before he can move I find a little strength to grab his arm.

“Please...don't…” It's all I can say. It's Dean, though, and he understands. He's understood me since we were ten years old.

“Okay, I'm here, I gotcha.” He crawls in next to me and holds me across his lap, my head against his shoulder. Each gargling breath I take has him holding me tighter, and my heart aches. I shouldn't have done this to him. He holds the keys out to Sam, “Drive, fast.”

The last thing I feel as my eyes slip shut is Dean’s lips as he brushes them against my cheek. “Everything will be fine,” he whispers.

Everything will be fine.

Read Part 4 HERE.

Like what you see? Would you like to see more? My Masterlist is here!

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[aion-rsa]

The November Man and Pierce Brosnan’s Anti-James Bond Roles

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He’s nastier than I remembered. In fact, Peter Devereaux, who is Pierce Brosnan’s lead spy in the grisly B-actioner The November Man, is a downright scumbag. But this is by design in a film that’s clearly coasting off audiences’ familiarity with the actor as James Bond 007. And despite his penchant for a fashionable enough gray sport coat, Devereaux displays little elegance or wit while he’s on the job; he’s a bastard who’ll sneak into his former protege’s kitchen with a gun and then hold the young lad’s girlfriend hostage and at knifepoint.

“Scenario: Your target has just severed the femoral artery of a woman you have been intimate with. What do you do?” Brosnan’s not-so-super spy bellows right before slicing a young woman across the thigh. He all but sneers as he leaves the rookie to clean up his mess.

This is just one of several anti-Bond set-pieces in The November Man, which is an even uglier piece of work now than when it premiered seven years ago. Yet as the movie comes back to prominence this week due to Netflix’s algorithm, I couldn’t help but be reminded of how the picture must have looked like a breath of fresh air on the page for Brosnan. Indeed, it’s one of several flicks that contributed to a pattern the actor cultivated over the last 20 years: a deconstruction if not outright indictment of the 007 image which made him an international star. The November Man is the slightest of those efforts, however it remains a notable one wherein Brosnan again thrived in taking the glamour, not to mention the piss, out of his most famous role.

Naturally suave and urbane, cultured yet more physical than many of his detractors ever gave him credit for, Brosnan seemed like the natural choice to play 007 back in 1986 when he was first cast in the role. He looked like such a good fit that it might have been one of the contributing factors for why 1980s audiences didn’t fully warm to Timothy Dalton in the role after he stepped in because Brosnan’s ‘80s television series, Remington Steele, was renewed and Brosnan was forced to bow out. When the Irish actor finally got a second chance to slide into the tuxedo nearly 10 years later via 1995’s GoldenEye, Brosnan was more seasoned and mature than his days on NBC, but he was still unquestionably the most chic 007 audiences had ever seen.

At the time, it felt like the return of the rightful king to many casual fans, an heir claiming his rightful throne. Audiences went wild for GoldenEye, which remains in this writer’s opinion one of the best 007 adventures to date more than 25 years later. While the amount of reinvention that Eon Productions and director Martin Campbell had to do to justify Bond’s continued popularity in the post-Cold War era would look like small potatoes compared to what the same team would attempt 11 years later with Daniel Craig’s hard reboot of the franchise in Casino Royale, GoldenEye still remains a blast of fresh air for a series that was feeling increasingly stuffy by the end of the 20th century. Bond had to deal with the world changing, but unlike Craig’s Bond, he didn’t necessarily have to change with it yet.

There’s thus a melancholic element to Brosnan’s Bond 007. He’s not so much a “relic of the Cold War,” as the wonderful Judi Dench’s M says in her first tête-à-tête with a Bond actor, as he is a man that time has passed by. He’s aware his moment is gone, so he spends the 1990s justifying his relevancy, and at least in the case of GoldenEye (and I’d argue all of Brosnan’s first three Bond films) he proved it in the moment with a playful smirk and the best one-line groaners this side of Roger Moore. However, some of those movies aged, they were what audiences wanted from the character then.

However, this is not the only version of 007 that Brosnan could have played. The actor was in fact famous for his behind-the-scenes grappling with the producers and his attempts to take the character in a darker and more grounded direction. In 2017, he recalled to Total Film that, “There was a certain frustration within me as the films went on, as I could see the world happening around me and the movies. I wanted Bond to get a little more gritty and real and down and dirty, but however you try to nurse it along, the scripts would come along with the same outlandish scenarios.”

In essence, he seemed to want to play the Bond that Daniel Craig eventually embodied, or at least a less gloomy variation on it.

One imagines this was the reason even before he left the Bond role that Brosnan began exploring that side of the character wherever else he could. By the time of 2014’s The November Man, the anti-Bonds were almost as familiar for Brosnan as the real thing, and he mostly appeared to be indulging the type of B-actioners that actors of a certain age have turned into a subgenre ever since Taken. However, even before hanging up the tux for good, Brosnan was doing much more interesting work subverting that same public persona.

His performance as Andy Osnad in John Boorman’s The Tailor of Panama stands out as the most contemptuous and articulate deconstruction of the sophisticated 007 image. Based on a John le Carré novel, The Tailor of Panama imagines a disgraced libertine MI6 agent (Brosnan’s Andy) who decides to enrich himself in South American exile by manufacturing a crisis and hoodwinking a hawkish and imperialist American military while also manipulating one particularly demented ex-pat tailor (Geoffrey Rush). Largely underrated now, the 2001 film—which opened between The World is Not Enough (1999) and Die Another Day (2002)—features Brosnan at his smarmiest.

In essence, he is being asked to play a “real” version of James Bond. Hence he comes across as a callow, arrogant, misogynistic prick who after reaching middle age decides to use his immature work ethic to cash in like some of his past adversaries. People die because of his machinations, and lives are ruined. He even attempts to rape an alleged friend’s wife. It is one of Brosnan’s best performances and perhaps the most hard-nosed deconstruction of the Bond archetype attempted by any performer who’d starred in an Eon production.

However, the best inversion of the persona came from Brosnan again a few years later in Richard Shepherd’s hugely under-appreciated The Matador (2005). As a comedy premised around a literal pub gag, the film pivots on “a hitman and salesman walk into a bar….” Brosnan unsurprisingly plays that hitman, Julian Noble. But despite his honorable surname, there’s nothing chivalrous about Julian. A deranged and bitter killer who never thought he’d live so long as to reach an age filled with regret and loneliness, Julian probably remains Brosnan’s best on-screen performance and a proper menace for Greg Kinnear’s buttoned up family man, Danny Wright.

Awash in self-pity and laggard energy, Brosnan comes across like milk that spoiled weeks ago, and which has now grown arms and legs and is dragging itself out of your refrigerator. It’s hard to say Brosnan’s Julian was ever as sober or clear-eyed in his younger life as any version of 007, but he represents the uncouth reality of that character’s vices through his obsessions with booze, teenage girls, and finding pleasure in murder. He’s also one half of a terrific buddy comedy.

A small character piece, Shepherd’s Matador luxuriates in a clever script that despite its barebones narrative still surprises, especially as it becomes a three-hander between Brosnan, Kinnear, and Hope Davis as the everywoman wife who proves too far out of the aging Bond type’s league.

If you haven’t seen this amusing tonic of a film, hunt it down.

Read more

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The top 10 best Pierce Brosnan films

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All of which paved the way for the more rote but overt The November Man. With its plot focusing on a Brosnan spy who’s out to avenge an old flame, not-so-coincidentally named Natalya (which is also the name of Izabella Scorupco’s Bond Girl in GoldenEye), the film traffics in Bond nostalgia; it even casts Olga Kurylenko who appeared in Craig’s Quantum of Solace. But there appears to be only faint nostalgia in Brosnan’s interpretation of those old ways here. Mostly his Devereaux is just a bitter old man filled with contempt.

Which is not to say Brosnan shares such animosity toward Bond. The actor genuinely appears grateful in interviews about that time in his life. However, even during the lesser installments of Brosnan’s tenure in the role, there was always a darkness and edge to his Bond that many franchise fans tended to undervalue.

While never as blunt or brooding as Craig’s self-loathing 007, there was a hidden brokenness to Brosnan’s interpretation that only would be seen in flashes. When they did appear, however, they were crueler than any actor in the role since Connery up to that point. It’s there when his Bond executes Vincent Schiavelli in Tomorrow Never Dies (1997). There isn’t a quip or smirk. There is just disdain on Bond’s face as he responds to Schiavelli’s pleas of “I’m just a professional doing a job” with “Me too.” And when he similarly shoots in cold blood one of his lovers, Sophie Marceau’s Elektra King in The World Is Not Enough, there is a perversity to the scene that makes even Dench’s M shudder.

Brosnan’s Bond likely could’ve been more than the 1990s’ most suave action movie joker. And he’s spent a lot of his post-Bond career proving exactly that.

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The CW's sci-fi adventure series, Pandora, might've slipped under your radar when its first season premiered in the summer of 2019.

Since then, its high-octane exploits, ambitious story elements, and drop-dead gorgeous cast have attracted an enthusiastic following among viewers looking for entertaining escapism.

With the Season One finale ending with almost as many questions as answers, Season Two, premiering on October 4, promises even more of its trademark complex relationship shenanigans while the team tries to save the universe. No biggie.

Joining Jax, the titular "Pandora", and her established Scooby gang members, Xander and Ralen, are her new roommate Zazie and a surprise (and not exactly welcome) blast from the past, Jett.

Actors Nicole Castillo-Mavromatis and Akshay Kumar spoke with TV Fanatic via Zoom from their on-location shoot in Sofia, Bulgaria and were incredibly open and enthusiastic about their experiences as the newcomers to the cast.

Making a scripted television program during the time of COVID is a wholly new experience for everyone.

Production on Season Two began in Bulgaria on July 24, 2020. Nicole and Akshay flew out from the UK around that date and had to quarantine for four days before being tested and allowed on set.

Throughout the production, everyone who wasn't on camera was masked and anyone new joining them from the UK or US had to quarantine upon arrival. COVID testing was done twice a week.

At the time of our interview, they only had four days of shooting left on the season.

Shooting ten episodes in two months is, in Akshay's words, "MADNESS" and made for a tight-knit core cast and crew who worked extremely hard, grateful for the opportunity to continue to do their jobs.

"Knowing that we're lucky enough to work in a time like this," observed Akshay,"To be able to work abroad and be treated so well and do our jobs in a time when most people we know don't have any work. It really has hyped up the gratitude of working and the joy of working."

As the newest regulars to the show, Nicole and Akshay felt extremely included and appreciated by the cast members returning from Season One.

Asked if Quintana, Dench, or Radcliffe have taken on a leadership role on set, they both felt that all three stars had contributed to the positive morale and energy of the show.

"They've been incredibly welcoming," Akshay asserted,"And not just to us, as series regulars, but to any guest stars we've had for an episode. They've been incredibly welcoming and you just make friends. Every new episode, you make a new friend. Priscilla, Ben, Olly, they're just very much steering that Good Vibes Only sort of feeling."

Nicole agreed. "The Good Vibes Fam. But not only just them. I think everyone from Season One -- Noah (Huntley) and Vikash (Bhai) -- just everyone who came back from Season One has been super welcoming to all of the NOOBS -- me! It feels so much like a family, it's crazy how much I feel we all get along. It's wonderful."

Speaking about their characters, Nicole and Akshay were both excited for audiences to learn about Zazie and Jett who start out the season as a new-ish romantic duo.

In a small-world twist, the actors discovered when they met and started working together in Bulgaria that they actually lived only twenty-five minutes away from each other in East London.

Nicole came into the Pandora-verse initially a total novice. After booking the role for Season 2, she went back an binged the first season for research. As Pandora Season 1 didn't even air in the UK until lockdown began this year, she really hit the ground running.

Zazie, being completely new to the show, is a wild card. She takes the place (literally, since she's Jax's roommate) of Delaney Pilar who decided at the end of Season One to hang out with Atria Nine on Adar rather than return to the Fleet Academy.

Asked how Zazie contrasts with Delaney who came from an extremely privileged background and had been implanted with a huge amount of tech, allowing her brain to access and hack -- and, unfortunately, made her vulnerable to being hacked by -- the datastream, Nicole was affectionate about her character's personality.

"I would say she is just a really bubbly, cool, fun 'chick'! She just wants to be liked. She wants some friends. She is a bit of a bookworm but she's not super smart so she does have to study, I feel, a bit more than everyone else."

But what's her superpower? Nicole was cagily vague about what's in store for Zazie.

"There are some twists and turns in her storyline. There will be some things that you find out. But, all in all, she's very wholesome, I would say."

On the initial similarity between Zazie and last season's character, Atria Nine, in that they both exude an aura of sunshiney optimism, Nicole could see how the characters compare that way but felt that Zazie brings a bit more spunk to the party.

"And there's more spunk to come," Akshay promised. "An abundance of spunk."

While Zazie begins the season based in the Academy, enmeshed in the day-to-day interactions between characters, she does get roped into the space adventures too.

"As the season goes on, she takes a much more active role in that saving the universe plotline."

Akshay, in contrast, had a bit more experience with life at the Earth Command Fleet Academy, having guest starred on an episode in Season 1 before being tapped to return as a series regular this season.

Jett was not one of the good guys when he appeared on Pandora Season 1 Episode 6.

After Delaney's implants were hacked while she slept, resulting in her walking into the packed Academy lounge completely naked, Jett made it his business to post holo-nudes of her all over the datastream as retaliation for a romantic rejection.

As he became a lead suspect in the hacker investigation, it was revealed that his reputation as a tech-head was a sham.

When Jett makes his entrance on the Season 2 premiere, he is met with understandable hostility from Jax and Ralen.

Despite his contrite apology and promise to do better, his behaviour throughout the episode doesn't do a whole lot to redeem the character.

(Total disclosure: I might've described the character as a total ass off the top of the interview.)

"He thinks he's doing great," Akshay revealed,"but he's really not. He's just digging his own grave."

While it's clearly going to be a steep uphill climb for the character to prove himself trustworthy, Akshay explained his approach.

"When Mark Altman, our showrunner, wanted me back, I thought that the only way that Jett could come back was on a sort of path to redemption but he couldn't come back as this sort of born-again saint. I thought he would try to redeem himself in the only way he knows how.

"For me, it would be kind of weird if he came back as like a brand-new character with a brand new set of ethics. His foundational personality traits -- his flirtiness, ["cheeky, charming behavior" interjected Nicole] -- which can be read as very douchy, I totally agree."

Akshay paused to think on it for moment and added,"That's probably more me than Jett, to be honest."

LOL.

"He is still on this path to redemption and he does get better at redeeming himself, I will say that. He doesn't start very well but he's trying.

"You know, in school, when you try so hard to get someone to like you and you end up just shooting yourself in the foot? That's very much Jett for the first few episodes.

"He grows. He becomes a bit more balanced. He doesn't lose his humor or his cheek which is really nice. We just get to know more about him and why he is the way he is.'

Looking at Season 2 as a long arc, Nicole and Akshay see the show finding its footing as more of a cohesive space adventure.

"I think this season leans more into the sci-fi side of it, the adventure, the high stakes, the heavy action," Nicole confirmed, then qualified it a bit. "But, again, there are romantic scenes and romantic storylines but I definitely feel like they've leaned a lot more into the action of it."

"The action and the bigger threat," Akshay added. "The looming threat that we learned about in Season 1. I think that's definitely much more present. That's definitely more at the forefront, especially of Jax and Xander's characters [decisions].

"What's really great is the emphasis on relationships between characters which is a huge plus. The constant evolution between characters such as Ralen and Jett and where that goes, then Xander and Jax, Zazie and Jett, Zazie and Jax.

"There's so many different webs that intertwine so much more, in a much more human fashion. Friendships are made and broken, then new, unlikely friendships are made.

"All the while, they're all working towards [confronting] the big enemy, the looming threat. So I think that's definitely much more grounded."

Nicole comes to acting from an extensive dance background and while we won't get to see Zazie trot out those skills on-screen this season, she dreams of being able to represent both her natural and nurtured background one day.

"I've always wanted to be able to play a role that kind of represents where I come from, my heritage. Maybe a role that is a Latina. That would be amazing. Just because I feel like I've never really cast in that direction.

"So it would be amazing to play someone of my heritage and 'rep' the heritage. Or as a part of a musical. That would be great."

Wrapping the two wishlist items together, I suggested something like In the Heights, which garnered an enthusiastic response as it's one of her favorite shows.

Akshay's professional credits include roles on films like Star Wars: Episode VIII - The Last Jedi and regular roles on TV series, The Halcyon and Devs. His heart lies with the action-oriented, stunt-heavy roles.

"I love stunt sequences and I wish I had more of that on this show. I get a real kick out of any sort of role that allows me to just feel like a kid again. And for me, the select sequences I have on this show just blow my mind. The amount of fun I have."

Recalling he had recently watched John Wick 3: Parabellum, he expressed his desire to be Keanu Reeves in that role.

"Anything that's teetering on the dangerous and you-may-die sort of edge. I'm a bit Tom Cruise-y like that.... yeah, I could be the British-Indian Tom Cruise. Let's go for that."

For both Nicole and Akshay, the experience of being part of the Pandora family has been nothing short of wonderful.

"It's a dream!" Nicole sang out without hesitation when I asked for their feelings about the show.

"Honestly," Akshay professed,"It's been such a great ride. Everyone here is so lovely, and everyone works so hard."

"It's been such an amazing experience," Nicole added,"I personally feel like I've learned so much being out here and everyone is just beautiful, so lovely, and the crew is wonderful. The cast is really wonderful. All the directors we've worked with. Our D.O.P., Max, and Mark and Steve. Just everyone."

Pandora Season 2 premieres TONIGHT, Sunday, October 4, at 8/7c on The CW.

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6 Amazing Ways to Promote Your Sales Online Like a Pro

There are very few words out there that people love to hear more than the word sale.

It’s no secret that a good sale is one of the best ways to get people into your stores and online ready to spend some (or a lot) of money. If you don’t believe me, just imagine the frenzy that happens on Black Friday, Cyber Monday, and even Prime Day!

During these monumental sale days, you’ll find people everywhere camping out in front of stores for hours on end, building elaborate wishlists days in advance, bookmarking “I wants”, and refreshing and rebooting to ensure nothing crashes.

It’s every business owner’s dream to have their customers react to a sale at that magnitude. However, for that to even be a possibility, you have to get the word out that you’re having a sale in the first place. It’s important to be strategic with your sale promotion, and what works for one business won’t necessarily work for yours.

This article will walk you through six of the best ways to promote your sales online like a seasoned professional. Let’s get started.

If you want even half of the success that’s depicted above, you’re going to have to work hard to get the word out. It’s one thing to have a sale, but it’s completely different to have your customers anticipating it and be incredibly excited about what they’re going to discover and ultimately purchase during your sale.

Regular promotion isn’t going to cut it. Let’s face it, sales aren’t that uncommon, and a generic sale promotion will likely be ignored unless that customer already had their eye on something and was just waiting for the next sale to take place.

To be successful and get your customers to engage with your offer, you’re going to have to paint them a picture. Show them what you know they want. This will pique their interest and get them to start shopping the sale.

Sales Tip 1: Send a Promotional Email to Subscribers

I know what you’re thinking. Yes, sending an email to promote your sale is one of the oldest and most basic tricks in the book, but it works, so don’t count this method out too quickly.

Start by building out segmented email lists for all of your subscribers and send tailored messages to each grouping. Don’t just share that you’re having a sale, share the message, and then showcase your products in new and exciting ways.

Trigger their imagination and show them what they could have if they shop the sale! The best part about this method is that it’s free, so it’s a great starting point to build off of for the next tips.

Consider using marketing automation software to help get the job done quicker and easier. These tools will help you segment your lists, build-out email campaigns, and capture leads automatically.

Consider this Mother’s Day promotion email. The Loft specifically calls out mothers (and moms-to-be!) to shop their sale by showcasing which clothing categories are 40% off as well as the specific pieces of clothing that appeal to this target market. When implementing this technique, make sure to segment your email list into groups of people that share similar interests and buying patterns.

Once you have this solidified, call out the products on sale that will appeal most to this target market. Go a step further by placing your products in real-life scenarios to showcase the possibilities. This technique will get your customers thinking about how your products fit into their lives, thus increasing the likelihood of them purchasing.

Sales Tip 2: Place a Banner Ad on Your Homepage

For all your customers who may not have been notified about your sale via email, a banner ad placed on your homepage is a no-brainer. With this method, the hardest part is done.

Your customers are already shopping at your online e-commerce store. Whether they’re just browsing or have intentions to buy something, a banner ad that showcases your latest sale will convince them to buy and likely encourage them to buy more than what they were originally intending to.

Get crafty with your copy. You should be as direct as possible, but if you have room to spare, persuading copy that reads “Buy more, save even more!”, “Surprise steals!”, and “Treat yourself, you deserve it!” are always likely to perform better.

Try out bold and simplistic banners, just like J.Crew did on their homepage. The simplistic banner in this example calls out the summer sale, but the bolded banner with an image calls out the fact that they specifically have swimsuits and shorts on sale for an even larger discount!

Be sure that the copy is clear and your promo code is obvious. Adding in a “shop now” button will eliminate any confusion and bring your shopper exactly to where they need to be.

Sales Tip 3: Blast It on Social Media

You can use social media in two different ways to get your message across. The first way is to use each and every one of your social media platforms for their standard use, meaning you would post your sale information on a main post as well as on your stories.

The second way you can utilize it is through social media advertising. This can be through the business side of each platform or through paid ads.

Get creative when sharing sale information. For example, if you own a clothing store, post a beautiful photo that showcases someone in your clothes, shoes, and accessories. Not only is the photo appealing to look at, but by adding a caption that shouts your sale out, you’ll intrigue your followers to head over to your website to look at each detail further.

Through the business side of a social media suite, you have the ability to set advertisements for certain periods of time. This is a great feature to utilize for each and every one of your sales so you can target and reach those who don’t follow you. All you need to do is set a budget and make your ads live to your designated target audience.

Another incredibly effective way to showcase your sale on social media is to put it in your story highlights the way Sephora does.

uThis way you can house all of your sales in one place so your customers have easy access to them. This is especially a great idea if you typically run multiple promotions at once.

Sales Tip 4: Invest in Display Ads

Have you ever noticed those ads that follow you from webpage to webpage? Those are display ads, and they’re one of the best ways to reach your customers when they’re not thinking about you while also exposing your brand to new potential customers.

As with most of these tactics, you must segment your audience first and foremost. You can use similar messaging that you used for your banner ads on your homepage, just remember that there will be more people than just your customers who will see these ads.

Ensure that you share enough information and detail about the sale and the store it’s coming from since these ads will live on many different pages throughout the internet.

Consider working with a DSP or a social media platform such as Facebook for Business to get the best placements at the right time for your brand.

For example, a brand like SEMrush places display ads on educational and business type websites. This ad is displaying on The New York Times to reach a similar target audience.

Sales Tip 5: Publish a Blog Post

One of the most creative ways to promote your sale is through an article on your company’s blog. Have a group of your employees put together lists of their favorite products that are going to go on sale soon.

Think of this as a tailored wishlist and cater to each persona of your target market. For example, if your store caters to those who like to exercise and spend time outdoors, have one of your employees who fits that bill compile a list of their tried and true all-time favorites.

Publish a blog that’s titled “Best items to purchase during (your store’s name) sale for those who love the outdoors”. Share each blog post on social media, repurpose it for your newsletter, and call out each product through an Instagram story mini-series.

FabFitFun does an excellent job with this tactic. They crafted a blog post that features a handful of their employees and their favorite products from the sale. They shared use cases, testimonials, and the sale price to entice buyers even further.

Sales Tip 6: Collaborate with Influencers

Influencer marketing is a fantastic way to get your brand out to a larger target audience. To ensure this method is effective, you’ll need to be particular when choosing the right influencers.

Before you have your influencer post about your sale, make sure they’ve worked with your brand enough times to ensure that their followers trust the partnership between your company and the influencer. As your sale approaches, have your influencers post about the sale through a main post showcasing a product and a few stories.

If you want to sweeten the deal even further, consider offering an additional discount for those who purchase through the influencer’s link. Make sure that this partnership comes off genuine, so avoid overly scripted and “salesy” messaging.

Allow each influencer to give it their own spin. You can even encourage them to post about their favorite products that are going to be on sale, similar to your blog post!

This influencer worked with Nordstrom during their anniversary sale. Not only does her outfit showcase items that her followers can purchase, she even created a blog post completely dedicated to the sale. It’s filled with tips and best practices, how to be best prepared, and her list of must-haves!

Blast it, Post it, Place it

It’s time to stop using the same old sale promotion techniques. Don’t let your customers become bored with you. You need to spice it up and show them what you know they’re looking for.

Entice them to shop your sale! Now that this article has provided you with all of the right tools to keep in your arsenal, you’re ready to begin promoting your sale like a seasoned pro. The more eyes you have on your sale the better because more eyes mean more purchases, and that’s the ultimate end goal.

About the Author

Hannah Tow is a Content Marketing Associate at G2. She graduated from the University of Missouri with a degree in Journalism and is very happy to be working in her favorite city, Chicago. In her free time, Hannah enjoys running with her dog, Teddy, traveling to new and exciting places, and capturing the beautiful places she travels to with her DSLR camera.

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