#hope the movie rocks hard and shows me how wrong i was for miss judge it... but i kinda dout it lol

[toxictac]

You know it really do be sad how despite all this time, hollywood still thinks when they do a movie of a game what we want is hyper relistic grafics with characters with marvel type dialogue

Ok this is not to be a hater of the minecraft movie, like i didnt care for it in the first place so i have no place to complain... but-

Like as much as i still think minecraft story mode is a jumble mess of ideas, if the movie used the same principals (with some changes, be that making the light more cinematic and what not), im pretty sure a lot of people would be more on board with it

Like if you want me to get invested "in another world" story why not make the world be different than the actual world aesthetically, like i know for a fact you doing most of this by cgi with as minimal props as possible, at least then have the guts to go all out with it

[mammonshuman92]

- Watched - Pt.3

(Mammon x GN!MC)

**TW: cussing, stalking, kidnapping, religion, 

Note: C/N (coworker name)

-

“Man, I’m starvin’. What’s takin’ so long anyway?” He grumbled, remembering the whole ‘first name basis’ thing with the delivery driver. 

He was laid on his back across your bed scrolling through social media, impatiently waiting for you to return. His stomach started to growl.

“Maybe I should go check? But, MC said to stay here so no one could see me.” He said to himself, a slight pout on his lips.

He heard a small shuffling noise come from the living room, it sounded like a paper bag crinkling.

Ok, ya got the food, now don’t be tryin’ to chit chat MC, I know how ya are. I’m dyin’ in here!

The bedroom was a straight shot down the hall from the door, making it impossible to sneak a quick peek without fully exposing himself.

He could hear you talking back and forth with...Alex. He huffed to himself remembering your chumminess with the take out guy. Something just seemed weird to him about the whole thing. 

Somethin’ is fishy about him always havin’ MC’s route or whatever. Does nobody else deliver for that place? I bet he’s got a crush on MC or somethin’. 

“I’ll kick his ass.” He said out loud, his own thoughts making him sour.

He listened again, trying to hear what was being said. He couldn’t hear any actual words, but he could hear Alex’s voice. Barely, though.

Wait a minute.. Is he whisperin’? What’s he gotta say to MC that requires whisperin’?! I gotta get outta here.

Mammon was getting himself worked up, assuming this delivery guy was confessing his love to you. He’d nearly convinced himself to march out there and confront the creep. To hell with staying hidden!

Before he could blow his cover, he heard something hit the front door followed by more shuffling movement. He calmed down a bit, thinking the noises he heard were of you getting the food inside and trying to kick the door shut.

He impatiently waited for you to call out, telling him the coast was clear and that he could finally come eat. But, you didn’t.

After a couple minutes passed with no new noise, he grew slightly anxious.

He stood up and started pacing beside the bed, feeling antsy.

C’mon, MC. What’re ya doin’? I’m witherin’ away! Before long I’m gonna shrink up and turn into a Little D or somethin’..

Suddenly, he heard voices again. Well, just the delivery guy’s voice, still a hushed tone. He groaned to himself.

“If he don’t hurry up and go away, I’m gonna eat him instead.” He grumbled quietly to himself.

Something didn’t feel right though. Why was Alex’s voice the only one he heard? It had been at least five minutes since he heard you say something. It’s not like he just missed what you said because you were too quiet for him to hear, or you just chose not to contribute to the guy’s conversation.

You always talk, to basically anyone you come in contact with, never really knowing a stranger. He’s pretty sure you haven’t gone five minutes without talking since he met you. That’s why it seemed so weird to him. 

That alone wasn’t really enough to expose himself though, was it? 

To say you’ve been through a lot lately is an understatement. You’re sleep deprived and your nerves are shot. With everything that’s been going on, it would be more weird if you didn’t act a little different. He didn’t blame you for not being your usual self.

He still couldn’t shake this feeling though.

A sudden, loud noise outside got his attention.

Was that a car door?

He moved quickly, putting his back against the wall, scooting over to the doorway.

“MC? Is he gone?” He whispered.

No answer.

Screw it.

Very slowly, he peeked his head around the corner, careful not to be seen.

“MC?” He whispered again, louder this time. 

Still nothing.

Somethin’ is definitely wrong..

He fully emerged in the doorway, eyes darting around, taking in his surroundings. As he quickly made his way up the hall, he noticed the door standing wide open. He could see that an older model car was parked in front of the house and you were no where in sight.

Hand still on the door knob, he turned around to call out into the house, “MC, where ya at? Ya know ya left the door-”

Before he could finish, the car outside suddenly accelerated, kicking up dirt and rocks as they sped off.

What the..?

“Guess he didn’t like his tip..?” He whispered to himself.

He shut the door and turned around slowly, only taking a couple steps before he came to a stop. He couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling he had.

“Oi, MC! D-don’t ya know you’re supposed to answer when THE Great Mammon calls for ya?” He waited, but the house was still. All he could hear was his heartbeat in his ears.

He walked further into the house, quickly looking around the kitchen before heading back down the hall.

Why ain’t they answerin’.. c-could it..? Nah..

“This ain’t funny ya know..” He called through the house, hoping that you’d somehow slipped past him. 

Again, he was met with bone chilling silence.

Slowly, he started piecing all the little weird things that didn’t make sense together like a puzzle. The silent house and wide open door, abandoned food, the car speeding away.. 

The same delivery guy somehow always having this route...

His heart sank.

No, no, no, no!

He ran from room to room in a panic, desperately calling out to you, begging you to answer him.

This ain’t happenin’.. They gotta be hidin’ or something. Yeah, that’s it!

“MC! Where are ya? Talk to me, please!” He screamed, voice breaking around the hard lump forming in his throat, tears beginning to prick at his eyes.

No, it can’t be.. It can’t be..

With trembling hands, he dug his phone from his pocket, quickly dialing your number.

“C’mon, pick up. Please, please pick up.” He pleaded as he paced the floor.

His stomach dropped when he heard it ringing within the house, quickly following the sound until he found it on the coffee table where you had left it earlier. He stood there unmoving, staring at his picture and contact name with hearts on the screen, tears streaking down his face.

The weight of it all came crashing down like a tsunami, forcing him to his knees. With his face in his hands, he sobbed uncontrollably.

I shoulda listened to my gut when I thought somethin’ was wrong! Why did I wait so long to look for ‘em?! He took MC, he took MC! Dammit!

How did he let this happen? He was right here, right here, and he didn’t sense the danger. He couldn't protect you again, letting you fall right into the hands of the psycho creep who had been relentlessly harassing you, who was planning to do who knows what.

He had to do something. Anything. 

Get the hell up! Ya gotta go find MC NOW! There’s no tellin’ what this creep is gonna try.

He stood up and wiped his face, trying to compose himself as he switched into demon form.

“I can still catch ‘em!” He made a beeline for the door, stopping abruptly as he reached the thresh hold.

“Wait, it’s the middle of the day and this ain’t the Devildom. A demon flyin’ around on a man hunt would be real bad.” He thought aloud.

People would most likely panic and if history proves anything, nothing good ever comes from humans when they panic.

He had to try and think rationally, as hard as it was. He wanted to rush in and save you as quick as he could, but going in blind without a decent plan could get you hurt...or possibly worse.

He switched out of demon form and moved back into the living room, trying to come up with an idea.

Your phone was here so he couldn’t have you tracked by GPS and he didn’t remember much about the car except that it was older. He didn’t even know what the guy looked like since he’d had to hide. All he knew about him was his first name and that he worked at a restaurant. 

“The take out place would for sure have everything about him on file!” He quickly punched in the name of the place into his phone’s search engine, then suddenly paused.

“Wait a minute..I can’t just waltz in there and ask for someone’s personal info. They’d call the cops or somethin’. Damn!”

He was beginning to feel hysterical. He didn’t have much to go on and every idea he came up with was crap. A few ‘ding’ sounds from the coffee table tore him from his thoughts. It was your phone.

Someone named C/N had sent you a couple texts about work and judging by the text log, you talked to them often.

“Man, I hope this C/N knows somethin’ cause I’ve got nothin’ else to go on..” 

Luckily, he remembered the name of the coffee shop, having heard you talk about work often. A quick internet search and he had the directions. He was out the door like a shot.

With his newfound breadcrumb, he was one step closer to finding you.

-

A bell chimed above the door when he entered the shop, alerting the worker behind the counter of his presence.

“Hi, how can I help you?” They greeted him as he walked up to the counter.

“Hey, is there a C/N here by any chance?”

“Oh, uh, yeah just a sec.” They went through a doorway behind the counter, returning moments later with another person in tow.

“Hello..? I’m sorry, do I know you?” They asked, approaching Mammon, visibly confused.

“No, but you know MC, right?” He asked, uninterested in beating around the bush.

“I’m not sure I can answer that.” They said cautiously, visibly tense.

They do know somethin’.

“Here, look.” He said, pulling up the gallery on his phone, showing them multiple pictures of you and MC together.

“Oh, so you’re the boyfriend. MC has told me about you. Uh, anyway, is there something I can help you with? I need to get back to work..”

“Yeah, has MC ever mentioned anythin’ about a guy named Alex before?” He asked.

Please, please, please

“Alex..Alex..” They repeated, tapping a finger on their chin as they thought it over. “They did, actually. We went to the movies about two months ago, and ran into a guy they knew. It was their usual deliver guy I think? Said his name was Alex. He gave me the creeps.” They explained.

“Why is that?”

Yes! We’re gettin’ somewhere.

“He just seemed..I don’t know, off? And when I met him, I actually remembered seeing him a few days earlier on my way to work. There was another A.T.A. protest and I saw him in the group demonstrators. He denied being there when I brought it up, saying it had to be his doppelganger or something, but I know it was him. When we ran into him at the movies he said he had just got off work, and he was wearing the exact same shirt and hat as the day of the protest.” They informed him.

“Wait, A.T.A.? What’s that?” He asked curiously.

“Anti-Treaty Association. They’re exactly what the name suggests. Everyone involved in the exchange program is public knowledge. Names, pictures, updates on how the program was going, etc. All easily found on any search engine. If he is part of the A.T.A., why would he be friendly with MC? There’s no way he didn’t know who they were.” They said.

This Alex guy is definitely the stalker. I bet if I dig into this A.T.A. I can find him..

“Alright. Thanks for your help.” He said as he turned to leave, C/N took a few steps after him.

“Hey, uh, is MC okay? I know they haven’t been themselves lately, but uh, you coming here and asking all these questions kinda scares me..” They admitted, fear for their friend written on their face.

“MC is uh, goin’ through some stuff. I’m gonna put an end to it though.” His voice was rough, angry. His face however, was full of desperation and sadness.

Mammon thanked C/N again for their information and left the coffee shop on a new mission. He uncovered another piece of the puzzle, new information that could lead him to you.

No one knew exactly what this guy was capable of, but he had the most important piece of Mammon's existence with him. There wasn’t anything he wasn’t willing to do, in any realm, to bring you back safely. He would breach the Celestial Gates without thinking twice if it would bring you back to him.

He was going to show them exactly why he's the second strongest of the seven rulers of the underworld.

I’m comin’ MC. I will find ya, I promise.

-

“Get out.”

The scorching heat inside the trunk made you nauseous, and severely thirsty. You felt weak and disoriented, unable to move much. You weren’t sure how long you had been stuck in there before you finally felt the car come to a stop. The lid opened, blazing sunshine poured inside the dark space, making your eyes water and squint reflexively.

“I said, get out!” He screamed.

He wrapped his hand around your wrist hard and yanked you from the trunk, letting you drop to the ground. You were much to weak to try and brace yourself so you fell pretty hard, getting small scrapes and dirt on your elbows and forearms.

You tried to open your eyes to try and get an idea of where he had taken you, but before they could adjust to the blinding sunlight, he tied something around your eyes.

“Can’t have you trying to escape.” He said to himself, as he finished tying up your hands. The restraints were very tight, already starting to hurt your wrists.

“I’m not going to.” You said weakly, your words making him laugh.

“Well, at least your a smart demon slut. Somewhat, anyway.”

Honestly, you weren’t planning to escape. If the opportunity presented itself, you would make a run for it, but you weren’t actively looking for an escape route. However, you had no intention of giving this creep what he wanted, or giving up without one hell of a fight.

Pulling you by the restraint around your wrists, he began to drag you across the ground. He let go of you a minute or so later. He didn’t drag you very far, ending up in some kind of building judging by the change in temperature and the rough feeling of concrete beneath you. It felt a little cooler in here as if you were out of direct sunlight, but the air was still fairly hot and sticky.

You did your best to pay attention to the things around you. The sounds, smells, what little you could feel. Outside you could hear cows in the distance and some kind of humming noise. It was definitely hot, but more like that humid feeling before it storms. You could also smell it too, the incoming rain. That warm earthy smell.

You could hear Alex nearby messing with something metal, there was also the sound of running water somewhere close.

I can’t believe Alex was actually the stalker this entire time... Explains how pictures taken of me from outside my house though.. I wonder what he plans to do..

You promptly chased away those thoughts in order to keep yourself calm, replacing them with thoughts of him, the time you’d spent together along with all the memories that came with it.

How soft and fluffy his hair felt when ran your fingers through it. The way he smelled; not the Devilish No.5, although you did love it, it’s smell closely related to the famous human world version, but his smell. Crisp and clean like fresh laundry or new clothes, slightly smoky like leather because of his favorite jacket and small undertones of warm cinnamon and vanilla.

The always groaned about your selection for movie night but was the first one to get really into it. Having a concert while cooking when you had kitchen duty together, getting in trouble for talking and laughing in class and later being scolded by Lucifer for it. How he always used to complain how bad humans smell, only to find out he started buying your brand of body wash for himself and would also try to casually smell his hoodie after you’d worn it.

The thought of never seeing him again, never experiencing anymore memories like these or the chance to make new ones, kept haunting you. A hard lump was forming in your throat, tears beginning to prick your eyes.

“Aw, what’s the matter darlin’? The abomination you chose as a lover isn’t rushing in to save you like Prince Charming? Imagine that.” He spat. 

You ignored his sarcastic comments, wanting answers of you own, “Why are you doing this?” You could hear him walking toward you, his footsteps getting louder as he approached. The sound stopped abruptly, then he crouched down next to your head.

“I told you, you need to be cleansed.” His tone was very matter-of-fact.

He grabbed your wrist restraint again and drug you another ten feet or so. Easily picking you up and hoisting you into the air until the rope around your wrists caught on something. He let go, your full weight coming down on your restraint. You were suspended in the air, feet barely skimming the floor. 

He checked your ropes to make sure it was still secure with the added weight and gravity, then he removed your blindfold. The sudden change causing you to blink several times.

Your previous assumptions had been right, you appeared to be in a warehouse that had been abandoned for quite some time. Most of the windows were broken, big vines and other foliage creeping into the building. The rusted remnants of machinery scattered around the large, open room. You looked above you to see that you were hanging from a large hook that was suspended by thick chain from a metal beam up above. Far to your left you could see what looked like a large pool or even one of those big basins you usually use to water cattle, with a hose draped over the side. There’s the source of the running water you heard.  

Wait...a stock tank with water, ’cleansed’...is he going to..baptize me?

“Cleansed? That’s been mentioned quite a bit in the dozens of letters I’ve been getting. Well, you would know, huh? Since you’re the one behind it all. What I don’t understand is why?” 

It came off as more sarcastic than you intended, but you didn’t really care. You had been terrified for weeks about the stalker. What would they do when they finally got to you? You haven’t truly felt alone in over a month, as if someone was always hiding in the shadows watching, waiting. Your anxiety has been through the roof and you’re in a nearly constant state of paranoia and fear. 

But, now that he was in front of you, you didn’t feel scared. You wanted answers.

“Because they don’t belong with our kind. Uniting our realms is blasphemy and will throw the human world into chaos.”

‘Don’t belong with our kind’..? Whoa, what the hell..

“Blasphemy? But, the Celestial Realm is on board with it. The angels in the exchange progr-” He cut you off before you could finish, his sudden booming voice echoed through the spacious warehouse, startling you.

He stood with his back to you, facing a long metal table that looked as if it used to be a conveyor or some other piece that once belonged to one of the old machines inside the long forgotten building.

“The exchange program was a joke! Those devils just needed a good cover to get their claws on our realm so they could take it over! Using their dirty tricks and magic to bring corruption and pollute us with sin.” He stared you down like a mad man while he yelled.

This was so bizarre, he sounded insane. Like, one of those people that wore tin foil hats. This version of Alex, the real one, was scary. You would’ve never guessed in a million years that this guy was the same one that you talked about the weather and current events with a few times a week.

“None of that is even remotely true! They just want to bring peace among the realms, to prove that they are not what all the harmful, hateful rhetoric claims they are. So we can all just co-exist! That was the entire point of the exchange program! To learn about the Devildom; it’s people and culture.” You fought back.

His face twisted up in disgust, visibly becoming more and more agitated every time you spoke. He stalked closer, stopping maybe six feet in front of you, staring at you intently.

“That kind of thinking is exactly why you need to be cleansed. You’re a human, or has being a demon whore and becoming the embodiment of sin made you forget that? You are nothing but a weak, powerless human to them. A pawn in their bigger plan, collateral damage if things went wrong.” 

You never cared what assumptions people made or the rumors they started regarding your stay in the Devildom. However, when the very demons you loved and cared about became the subject of people’s whispering, you were willing to fight with no intentions of backing down.

You, out of everyone, who had to live in the House of Lamentation for a year, escaped death from a couple of the brothers, helped them mend familial bonds, and held pacts with all of them, should know better than anyone, exactly who they are.

“You don’t know anything about them!” You yelled lurching forward as you filled with anger, lightly swinging back and forth where you were suspended, the thick chains above you clanking, “The things they’ve been through, they things they’ve seen. The sacrifices they had to make..” You heart ached for them. What happened during the Great Celestial War, their fall.. They’ve been through a great deal and they, along with the rest of the Devildom, are undeserving of such prejudiced hatred. 

“Being demons doesn’t automatically mean they are bad people, just like being human doesn’t make you good.” You stared him down, lacing venom in your words. He squinted his eyes at you, unhappy with your implications. “That fact was thoroughly proven during my time there. Some of kindest people I have ever met, as well as the people I love and cherish the most, are demons.”

You would forever stand behind the program, your now second home, and all the friends and loved ones you made along the way. No matter what this psycho could come up with, you would not be swayed. You knew them for who they are, all Alex knew was hatred.

He scoffed at your words, walking toward you as he shook his head in disgust, eyes boring into yours. He stopped just inches in front of your face. You held onto your resolve, staring back at him intently, not letting him see that you were completely terrified. It’s what he wanted; to feel superior and pass judgement on those he deemed unworthy.

You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction though; to feed his ego, his delusions. You refused to bow to fear, instead giving it all you had to make sure that if this was how it would end for you, you would fight against his prejudice and hatred until your final moments.

“We will start with the normal cleansing.” He backed away from you, confirming your suspicions as he gestured to the stock tank. “Although I think your soul might be too far gone for it to be completely effective.” He smiled wickedly as he turned around, going back to the table he’d been at earlier and picked up the same knife he’d held to you when he kidnapped you. The only other weapons you could see on the table were a baton and a taser. There was also a thick book you could only assume was a bible and a large jar of water. The most concerning however, was the gas can, thick work gloves, and what looked a lot like a body bag.

“This may call for a more extensive purification.” 

PART FOUR COMING SOON!

[mouse-fantoms]

Reach For My Hand, ‘Cause It’s Held Out For You

Read on Ao3!

Tagging (just who I thought would be interested from the post this spawned from): @tmp-jatp @lydias--stiles @1neverendingstories1

More Than A Band but Jatp edition

A top priority when having 90's boys come into your life is of course showing them what they missed out on. It started with Julie putting together a playlist for them.

Another order would be teaching them the terms nowadays. Someone hadto tell Alex that you don’t say ‘periodt’ at the end of every sentence. That though, was a priority for another day.

After showing them music they missed out on, movies were next. It made sense since some of the music she had put on the playlist were songs from movies. She obviously couldn’t show all the movies they missed in the past 25 years, but there were a few that they’d probably like.

Their weekends, so far, had involved Julie setting up the living room for the perfect movie watching experience. A few pillows here and there on the comfy couch, could never go wrong with blankets, a fresh buttery bowl of popcorn, just the essentials.

They were all on the couch, finishing up the rest of Camp Rock. (Luke was immediately hooked on the summer camp with music concept.)

Julie was curled up with a blanket at the end of the couch. Luke was next to her, then Alex followed by Reggie.

“You seriously don’t want a blanket?” Julie asked Luke. She had her knees pulled to her underneath the fabric of warmth.

“I’m telling you I’m not cold.” He repeated another time.

She would have thought it might have just been a ghost thing if it wasn’t for Reggie and Alex constantly tugging at the blanket they shared for blanket space.

“I need it more!” Alex pulled the blanket towards him.

“You have a hoodie on!” Reggie pointed out.

“...I still get cold.”

Julie and Luke rolled their eyes at the pair and were instead more interested at how Mitchie was going to do at the Final Jam.

“Wait, she's singing that song? Wait!” Luke scooted to the edge of the seat, being glued to the tv. “Please tell me he has to recognize it’s her who sang in the beginning. She’s the one!”

Alex put a hand on Luke’s shoulder and pulled him back to the couch.

“I’m sure he will buddy.”

It wasn’t until after the number that Luke noticed Julie dozing off next to him. She’d shake awake a few times when she’d hear the high notes in the music.

“You know we can call it a night if you’re getting tired.”

Her arms came out from under the blanket when she stretched her arms and yawned, “No, no, no, I’m not. I haven’t even shown you guys a favorite of mine yet and I said we’d get to it tonight.”

Once the movie finished she grabbed the remote and went to find one of her favorites.

“This one,” she was interrupted by her own yawn, “is about a band. They form when they’re all in detention together.” A look played on Luke’s face. She sighed, not wanting to be right with an assumption, “...Is that how you guys-”

“No but could you imagine how-” Luke turned to the unamused faces of Alex and Reggie.

“It was always us getting him out of detention.” Alex informed.

She opened her mouth looking to the one in question. “What would you do?”

“He could never put away his journal during class.” Reggie answered.

“It was better than writing on the corners of my papers.”

“How would you get him out of it?”

“Well if the book wasn’t at the teacher’s desk anymore than… no evidence for detention.” Luke summed up.

“Which meant a lot of talking to the teacher while they got it back. ‘Alex, we want you to talk to her.’ ‘Pretend you have a question.’”

“The other option was you guys joining me.”

“Yeah we tried that, they never could give it to Reggie.”

Julie looked curious at the black haired ghost. “Why?”

Alex answered, gesturing to him. “...It’s Reggie.”

“Yeah, can’t argue there.”

She turned her attention back to the tv and brought up the movie.

“Lemonade Mouth? What kind of name is that?” Judged Luke.

Julie laughed to make it even. “What kind of name is Sunset Curve?”

“The kind of one you don’t come up with.” Reggie informed.

“When we were starting out,” the guitarist took the lead in explaining, “we’d play at this street corner. I guess people started liking us and would say to check out the guys at the corner of Sunset Boulevard and Curve Street. Then it just kinda meshed into one with people calling us Sunset Curve.”

“We kind of just went with it.” Alex shrugged.

“Funny, well, you’ll see why they’re called Lemonade Mouth in this.”

She put the movie on and the boys seemed instantly intrigued. It wasn’t until fifteen minutes in that her eyes started to feel drowsy. Maybe Luke was a little bit right, but maybe if she just rested her eyes for a second she’d feel better. Maybe if she just made herself comfortable on the pillow to her right, she’d feel better.

“Luke, can you turn it up a-”

“Can’t.”

“What?” Alex looked at him.

“Can’t move.” He repeated, shifting his eyes to the left.

Alex looked behind Luke to try to see if he could see what he was talking about. He saw Julie’s head closer to Luke. Sure enough, when he looked past him he saw Julie with her head on his shoulder.

“Hgh,” the blonde huffed, “fine I’ll get it.” There was no point in arguing so he instead went out of his way to reach diagonal to grab the remote that was on the coffee table.

It wasn’t tell near the ending of the movie when they eventually dozed off too. However they did catch great songs before they did. Classics such as Turn Up the Music, Determinate, Somebody and a song called More Than a Band, She’s So Gone were a few they caught before they went off to dreams.

~~~

She tried her best to not worry her boys. When she tried though, all they did was.

They knew something was off when she didn’t stop by to tell them bye before she left for school. Also when Luke paid her a visit during school she just seemed detached. Reggie noted Ray seemed off and Carlos for that matter too.

The ghost was hanging around with Ray in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for Carlos before he left for the morning. Reggie leaned against the archway to the dining room, watching Ray as he cooked scrambled eggs on the stove. Carlos came down the stairs, his bag slung over his shoulder, and came around to the stool of the counter.

“Do you know what we’re having for dinner?”

Ray looked over his shoulder, as he dumped the pan of eggs on a plate, “You haven’t even had breakfast yet.” He chuckled, setting the plate in front of him and opening the drawer to give him a fork.

“I know but…” He trailed off, taking the fork that was put next to his plate, looking to his dad in hopes he got what he was meaning. From him touching the ring on his ring finger, he got the memo.

“...I can talk to your Tía about bringing something over for tonight.” There was a light nod of his head. Carlos shared the same nod as he dove into his eggs.

Meanwhile Reggie leaned at the archway, suddenly now understood.

~~~

She hadn’t talked to them much the whole day. The studio that turned into her home didn’t feel like much of one today. Just a reminder.

After dinner, she found herself going up to her room, changing into her pajamas and finding comfort on her bed. She sat crisscross, her hand drawn to the scripture necklace she wore. She didn’t appear to catch the familiar poof sound until she looked to the left from seeing something in the corner of her eye appear. She saw her boys, looking sympathetic.

It was like they were a reminder. The reminder that they were here but… she wasn’t.

Luke stepped cautious, taking a seat on the mattress at the foot of her bed. “...Guessing movie night is postponed tonight.” He tried to make conversation.

She answered by turning on her side away from him, her necklace still in her hand, not realizing her foot had accidently hit Luke in the thigh when she turned over. Usually it was a nice reminder when they touched, today though, was not one of those times.

Luke looked to his friends standing opposite of him. Their expressions looked the same as his, wanting a suggestion of what to do, he looked back to Julie.

She was rubbing her fingers across her necklace in the silence until there wasn’t any.

“I can’t pretend,” she was caught off guard by his singing and what it sounded like, “to know how you feel, but know that I’m here and know that I’m real.”

Real. That word got her to look through her curls at him. He looked at the other two to join in.

“Say what you want,” Alex sang, stepping towards her bed, “or don’t talk at all, I’m not gonna let you fall.” He knelt down to be eye level.

“Reach for my hand ‘cause it’s held out for you,” Reggie joined Alex in kneeling next to her bed, “my shoulders are small but you can cry on them too. Everything changes but one thing is true, understand.” He looked to Luke to take the part.

“We’ll always be more than a band.”

They weren’t just singing lyrics. Even when she turned over to face them, they carried on.

“You used to brave the world all on your own.” Alex continued.

“Now we won’t let you go.” Luke added.

“Go it alone.” Reggie followed.

“Be who you wanna be, always stand tall.” Luke leaned in a little towards her, smiling at the two words, remembering the song they finished writing together. She smiled back, not being able to help herself. “Not gonna let you fall.”

They sang together, looking and smiling as they did. “Reach for my hand cause it's held out for you. My shoulders are strong, but you can cry on them too. Everything changes but one thing is true, understand. We'll always be more than a band.” They looked to her to continue.

With a wide smile she followed, “I never knew you could take me so far.” The proud smiles on them were hard to miss. “I’ve always wanted to hope that you are the ones I need.”

They repeated the chorus together, harmonizing, voices blending beautifully. “But one thing is true, understand.”

“We’ll always be more than a band.” They dropped out to let Julie finish.

She couldn’t help but look at her boys, proud smiles plastered on them as she looked at each.

“I didn’t know you guys stayed up to watch that.” She found the words to say.

“You said it was a favorite of yours.” Reggie shrugged as if it was obvious.

“You can’t go wrong with a band.” Luke summed up.

“Also Luke couldn’t move so that’s another reason we stayed.”

She let out a light huff from Alex’s statement. She grabbed her necklace again, looked down at it then back to them.

“...Thank you guys. We’ll always be more than a band.” She dropped the necklace and opened her arms, inviting them.

They made a hug with two people kneeling on the floor, work. She might not have been there but she sent the boys to her daughter. Maybe a reminder wasn’t always bad to have. This would be a reminder that they were a family. Family first, band second.

[letfatewritethewords]

I process things with art. I process with written words in the hopes that one day it can be spoken without my voice shaking. This week has been one for the books.. and I decided to share. This is long, but I want to remember what I’m learning.. how I’m processing.. if you decide to read, thank you. If not, this will still be here as a reminder of my progress every year.

I always tell people that there was no reason for my name, but it’s a lie. I’m named after Samantha on BeWitched. My grandfather loved that show and suggested it when my mother couldn’t decide. I was born in early September and that makes me a Virgo. Astrology is one of my favorite things. There’s something extraordinary about the idea that we’re connected to the universe by the positioning of the stars. Sometimes it’s so vague.. but other times, it’s right on the nose and my horoscopes will make me cry. Speaking of that, I’m an empath and a 2. When I’m unhealthy, I’m a 4 and If you know what any of that means, I’d love to talk to you more about it. Winter is my favorite season. Fall is a close second. I love the snow and how muted everything is. I like the quiet, the beauty. Sometimes, the light from the sun will shimmer off a fresh coat of snow on the ground. It is absolutely blinding, but I’d still stare, and when the snow fell at night, I’d watch it under the street light across from my house and it felt like time stood still. When I was little, I would lay in the yard full of snow, alone, in my puffy suite, until my fingers and toes would go numb from the cold, listening to the silence, but the best part of those days was going back into my grandparents house and warming up with hot coco made on the stove, wrapping myself in a soft blanket and watching old movies with my grandfather. To me, the Winter is magical. My love languages are Quality Time and Acts of Service. I’m an introvert but I love people. I like to observe, I like to really understand how the mind works and Im eager to help. I thrive in controlled chaos. I like puzzles, I love music, I like crafts, I like to fix things because grandpa always taught me that nothing is to broken to fix. Nothing. No one.

This is the light. This is the part of me that I give willingly to anyone I meet. I wear it on my sleeve. It’s only the light. Until the last 2 years.. this was all I could give of myself because I’ve always been scared of the dark.

The darkest part of me lasted 8 years, my rock bottom lasted 4.5, but as a whole it’s taken up almost 12 years of my life. Sometimes I worry that all I'm ever going to be is this thing that happened to me. That this will define me for the rest of my life and I need to remind myself that I’m a person that can live separate from an event.

I went to the police station this week, I filled out more forms. I’ve filled out so many forms over the last 2 years. For an emergency restraining order this time. For Florida this time. I knew it would eventually follow me here but typhus felt too soon. The clerk called me brave. I smile and thank them every time but I never know how to respond to that. She has no idea how weak it feels and I mean.. how could she. This is the right choice, the obvious choice, the smart choice. In a different situation, it’s one of the many steps I’d be urging someone else to take. In all the chaos, all the hurt, in all the anger and sadness.. it always circles back to “I loved him”. I did. I wanted to fix him. I wanted to see him grow and heal and if I loved him hard enough for the both of us, it would’ve evened out eventually… right?

I failed.

He was always who he was, but I was young and naive and ready to fix the whole world. When I was 18 and we were free, I would’ve told you he saved me. Now that I’m in my 30’s… and he’s in prison and I’m in limbo.. I don’t know what I’d tell you. He didn’t save me, but he didn’t destroy me either. I had every opportunity to tap out and give up.. but I grew into a person I might not have been if I never met him.

Am I angry? All of the time.

Am I scared? Yes.

I see things more clearly now though. People talk about how you never know someone’s story, and that’s because we are experts at playing pretend like we have it all figured out until we’re alone and have to face truest selves. The facade is the hardest thing to give up. Some people saw through mine and there are others, who have built their own, that never will. I share posts about what I’ve learned, how I see people, how I’ve try to treat people with grace and teach children with love and patience in hopes that a little of that sinks into whoever it reaches, but I very rarely show the journey. Partly because I know the details are gruesome and that’s not for everyone, but mostly because I’m scared.

How will you see me?

What will you think?

I’m learning that I’m not this big awful thing that happened to me. I was never anyone’s property and I’m not chained to it anymore. I was very much lied to and manipulated and hurt long enough that it flipped onto me and I carried it without missing a step. I wanted to love him so much that I would heal him. Instead, he “loved” me so much it almost killed me, and he did call it love. Enough times that he re-defined it and I didn’t use that word for a very long time in any meaningful situation. He, for better or for worse, drastically changed the trajectory of my life.

But it’s ok.

I’m wounded but I’m healing. I’m lonely, but I’m learning how to slowly welcome more people in and step out of my comfort zone. If I’m being honest, I’m relearning a lot of things, including how to exist in a world where I have room to make mistakes and fail. I can say or do the wrong thing and be gently corrected for it by my people and move on … sans violence. There are no words for amount of relief I feel because of that truth.

Is it over? No.

He was sentenced to 7 years last year and every year around mid July early August there is an opportunity to apply for an appeal based on his behavior, which will always be immaculate because he is not as tough as he thinks he is. This means that if he applies and it goes to trial, I’m also notified and have to reappear, show any new evidence, and reexplain why he needs to stay there for the safety of others and myself. Telling my story once a year on a whim to a room full of strangers, always men, so they can decide my fate, as well as the fate of this “upstanding young man with a good head on his shoulders” (actual words used during my initial rape/domestic abuse trial against him), was never what I imagined finally turning him in would look like. I really never thought that after everything, his sentence wouldn’t even be as long as our relationship. The original sentence was 5 years. After he got out on a Governor Cuomo Covid related prison loophole and broke his parole almost immediately, he was sentenced to another 2 on top of that. He has 6 left. We talk about how flawed our system is, but really seeing it is a different kind of punch. Women aren’t believed. There’s a reason so many of these crimes go unreported, and why so many women die at the hands of angry men. The hoops you have to jump through are miles high and on fire, and when you and the advocate show up armed only with your truth, your tears and a little evidence from one night at a bar when he got to drunk and forgot he was in public, it’s very easy for a judge to rule on the softer side. Because, as you all know, we’d never want to ruin a wealthy mans life unless there’s cold, hard, reason to.

Seeing his face when they read out his sentence, after years of terror, was satisfying to say the least and if I hadn’t been so numb to get through the hearing, I would’ve enjoyed it more. I will never forget going to a trusted friends house after that hearing and being completely overwhelmed with all of the emotions. Relief, guilt, sadness, anger, happiness, fear.. so many I couldn’t express.. all at once because the novocain wears off and numb isn’t forever and I fell asleep with their dog after a lot of crying. I’d be lying though if I said that 18 year old in me didn’t feel a loss. I grew up with incredible grandparents that did amazing things in teaching me how to love people and be a good human, but no one can protect us from everything. I also grew up with a mother who fights demons of her own and never had the capacity to love two kids. In a situation like that, someone becomes the punching bag. I became the punching bag and desperately looked for ways out, an opportunity to run.. and I ran right into him, who accepted me with open arms for the first time in my young, very inexperienced life.. and I followed him blindly and he was my whole world. Until I was 27, I didn’t have a guide. By the grace of God I landed into a community in Florida that slowly helped me realize my worth.

So.. what now.

How do we fix what our parents and past broke?

How do you reparent yourself?

The mental health journey is proving to be my biggest struggle yet. There’s no more outside factors, it’s just me and the lies that have fed me for years and altered how I think and feel and understand the world. I can feel myself frustrating people I’ve let close to me. I feel myself getting nervous and pushing people away. Sometimes I can catch it and regroup, other times that nasty little voice is too loud and I’m exhausted. My goodness though, how cool is it to learn so much about yourself? I know I have the capacity to love that broken part of me eventually, but it’s still hard to face. Getting to learn and understand the reason behind your actions is terrifyingly amazing. I am proud of this journey. Even when I don’t always come up on top. It’s hard to see the progress while you’re in it, but laying it all out like this.. I can safely say I’m never going to be that 18 year old girl ever again. Some days this journey looks different, some days the darkness wins, because healing isn’t linear. Sometimes it’s one step forward, 2 steps back… but nothing is too broken to fix.. and I will never call that darkness home again.

[enbies-and-felonies]

KOTLC peeps!!!

I posted my first KOTLC oneshot about @everyonehasthoughts baby, Simon Foster :D Check it out on my Wattpad @pan-with-pans, or hit on that Keep Reading Button :D

My Name Is.... Simon

tw: internalized transhobia

tw: mild swearing

~~

  Sophie tugged at an eyelash. Today was NOT a good day, and knowing her life, it would probably get worse. Sitting under Calla's panakes tree, with its flowing branches and the sweet smell of its tricolor flowers normally helped calm her, but now...

    She was dirty from helping clean Wynn and Luna after they found a muddy meadow, but she couldn't stand the thought of taking a shower. Angrily, she shoved her hair long out of her face. She wanted to yell. Why did she feel so... so rotten?! She looked down at her form-fitting tunic and felt her stomach heave as she scrubbed her eyes in an effort to keep her frustrated tears from falling.

    She, Biana, and Linh had planned a girls outing for today, so they had had a sleepover and in the morning Biana had done their makeup. They had picked out gorgeous outfits; Linh wearing a dark grey, slim-fitting dress with silver embroidery that looked stunning with her hair, and a pair of leggings decorated with a flame pattern. Biana had chosen a light, flowy sundress with strawberries on it, leaving her arms and shoulders exposed. The light pink contrasted beautifully with her dark skin and hair, and she had even put her hair up with a matching strawberry pin.

    For Sophie Biana had helped pick out a form-fitting white dress with gold trimming. Despite it being pleasing to the eye, it wasn't too flashy and Sophie had liked the way it looked. Biana had said it fit nicely, and showed her curves. At the time Sophie had laughed at the compliment, but now its memory made her stomach churn even more.

    Why why why was she feeling like this???

    Groaning, Sophie curled up into the fetal position. The tenseness didn't fade, but at least with her eyes closed she could focus on the bark cutting into her back and a stone pressing against her hip. It was a better discomfort than the way her stomach felt. It made her want to tear every single eyelash out, the more it hurt the better.

    "Hey... You okay?" It was Keefe, and for some reason that didn't make her feel better.

    "Fine and dandy," She groaned, now grateful for the curtain of hair that covered her face, and therefore her tears.

    "BS." Damn empaths.

    "Maybe I'm not fine, but it doesn't matter anyway because nothing's wrong." She wasn't trying to be difficult, but how else was she supposed to say that she had no idea what was happening?

    "Sophie-" She may have been able to hide the flinch, but he felt the emotional recoil at his words.

    "Foster, please," He tried again, "Let me help you?" An idea niggled at the back of his mind.

    There was a pause, and a blue panakes flower  gently settled onto Sophie's shoulder.

    "Okay," She whispered, "You can try."

~~

    "Okay, so I'm thinking I just say things and feel your reaction to it and then we build off of that, so that then we can pinpoint what's up." The two blondes were sitting on Sophie's bed, cross-legged and with a plate of mallowmelt between them.

    Sophie raised an eyebrow.

    "What?! I didn't have much time to make a plan of attack!" Keefe raised his hands defensively, but a smirk played at the edges of his lips.

    "Well... I did already say yes." In all honesty just being around Keefe and his jokes had already helped. He had poured a bucket of water on her, which had actually helped her get the motivation to take a shower, and then Grady had made some mallowmelt for them as a surprise. His still didn't really like Keefe, but he had a secret fondness for the boy.

    "Will you need my enhancing?"

    Keefe swallowed. "I think it would be better if we didn't make it more... complicated." Sophie didn't exactly know what he meant by that, but she went along.

    "Ready?" She nodded, "Okay.... um... I should have come up with a question before I suggested this." He rubbed the back of his neck ruefully.

    "Wait! I'll just start with some generic questions, so you get comfortable with answering questions, since I know you don't like telling all of your secrets. You ARE the Mysterious Miss Foster after all." A twinge swirled in with her general 'sucky-feelings' and 'gently-amused-anticipation'. Keefe thought it was interesting, but didn't push it just yet.

    "Uh... So your favourite human thing." He needed to figure out some better questions to get to know people.

    "Well, I really miss music, but I do still get to listen to some of it via my iPod. Other than that... probably miss movies the most."

    "Favourite movie, and why?" 

    "Booksmart." There was a swell of happiness at the memory, immediately followed by reservation and hiding. Maybe... disgust? But why would she be disgusted at her favourite movie?

    "Why?"

    "Because the two girls were such close friends, and back then I was so lonely... It was nice to imagine people being so close." It was a good answer, but it didn't match the feelings she was radiating.

    "Sophie," That twinge again, "I can't help you if you don't give me the bare-chested answers. I don't plan on judging you for a movie, so you can be honest. It's okay. I mean, unless its about eating meat, but I could probably forgive you for even that." She smiled, and he grinned at his success.

    "I guess I liked it because..." She tugged an eyelash out.

    Abruptly she jerked her head up, staring into his eyes, and he instinctively brought a hand to his stomach against the churning anxiety and reservation.

    "Keefe."

    "Yeah Foster?"

    "How do- in the lost cities- How do you feel about the lgbtq community."

    Oh damn, did she know?

    "Like, personally or...?"

    "Personally." Her anxiety was the main emotion now, bubbling and swirling in his stomach.

    "I support them, for multiple reasons. And that includes ALL of them." He didn't know if she was trying to get him to say something or if she honestly just wanted to know, but at his words the storm of anxiety calmed slightly.

    "Oh. Okay. I guess I liked it because it showed representation." She was still holding back, but Keefe was too busy recovering from the abrupt onslaught of emotions and then the change in subject.

     "Cool... uh, favourite... Human celebrity??"

    "Rain Dove." There was no hesitation, but afterwards she paused. "I don't- I don't really know much about them, but they seem cool." Them? Nonbinary maybe? The idea burrowed deeper into his mind, but he still didn't put it into words.

    "This one will be more personal, okay?" Keefe waited until after her feelings had settled, not just once she nodded, before he asked, "Why don't you like being called Sophie?"

    Her heart stopped, which probably shouldn't 'technically' count as an emotion, but Keefe still sensed it. Then there was a twist of confusion as she tried to answer.

    "I don't know...?" She wasn't lying or hiding anything this time, but she still pulled at an eyelash and flicked it away.

    "Every time I said Sophie this evening you have flinched. Not always physically, but still. Is it because that was what your human parents named you?" He regarded her as she thought, turning the idea over in her head like a pebble at the beach, before frowning and shaking her head.

    "It's not that..." Her brow furrowed, and she reached her hand up again, this time continuing to tug at her eyelashes even as she pulled three out.

    Keefe took a deep breath, steeling himself for her emotions before taking her hands in his.

    "Foster, have you considered that maybe.. you aren't cis?" He really hoped he wasn't stepping out of line, and that it didn't offend her. What if he was just projecting? What if she didn't support trans people?? What if-

    He cut the thoughts off when he realized that the majority of the panic was from Foster. Her eyes were wide and she pushed away from him, nearly slipping of the bed.

    "What?! I'm not! No, I'm a girl!! I-" Her voice was shrill, but he felt the anxiety get replaced by disgust, and an undercurrent of guilt. She was lying...

    And then she was crying.

    "Keefe what if I'm broken? I don't know what I am. I think I'm a girl?? What else could I be?" She hiccupped, "I've always been a girl. I was *sniff* born a girl and I- I don't want to disappoint anybody and-"

    Keefe hugged her hard. 

    "You are not broken, you have never been broken, and I am so sorry that you might even entertain that possibility. I'm sorry for pushing, and making you uncomfortable, I just wanted you to feel better and I noticed how you never liked 'Sophie' and you didn't like 'miss' and I didn't know what to do!! I'm so sorry Foster." 

    She hugged him back, "I think, I think I just need to be alone for a minute. Can I call you later?" She sniffed.

    "Of course, I'm always here Foss-Boss."

~~~

    Sophie rocked on her bed for a while after Keefe light leaped away. She had already tugged out five more eyelashes, and now she was rocking back and forth.

    Was she not a girl? She had never thought of herself as trans before...

    But now that she thought about it... It made sense with how much she hated makeup, and dresses, and formfitting clothing... So if she wasn't a girl, then who was she?

~~~~

    "Hey Keefe?" The whisper was barely picked up by the imparter, but Keefe still heard it.

    "Yeah?"

    "I... figured some things out."

    "That's great Foster, I'm proud of you." 

    "My name is.... Simon. I think I'm a demiboy."

[peculiarnation4u]

Sky’s squabble| Sukoru vs Sako

It was a normal day for a teenager; that being if normal was standing in a closed off area with tall buildings getting ready to fight someone you have never met for the approval and judgment of battle driven adults. And to think Sukoru believed there would be more learning and less fighting.

“I should have chosen support class” she thought.

But it was far too late for that now. Now she had to focus on the task ahead of her. 

              The rules seemed simple enough, find an orb in the middle of the field and bring it back to your side. Simple right? Of course, there was one obstacle, her opponent. She knew nothing about him, other than his name. She did not pay much attention to the info given to her, not like it mattered. Class 1a didn’t matter to her at all.

“just a bunch of arrogant kids meant to be my rivals” Sukoru thought.

                Although she wasn’t fully sure about the arrogant part. Her first opponent left a bad taste in her mouth, with all the swearing and aggression. So maybe she was quick to judge. Still, anyone with a teacher like aroura couldn’t be the brightest in the bunch. Reiko almost felt bad but remembered that she would be facing these “1as” and put the thought aside. Can’t afford to be weak.

         Her opinion of 1a wasn’t important right now, she had a fight ahead of her. “my first priority would be finding the ball right away, I can think of the rest along the way” Reiko thought.

And with a signal, she was off.

          Her first idea was to fly up and search for it but decided against it. Couldn’t risk getting hit if she didn’t know what the other person’s quirk was. Even if it wasn’t an attacking type, she would be revealing her location. It wasn’t worth it. So, she quickly turned her legs into tornadoes and flew into the maze of buildings. Actually, maze was an understatement, this was a whole labyrinth! There were buildings towering over her every move. Every turn made her believe she was going in circles. And the dull grey color was making her go dizzy. The temptation to fly above it all was strong, but she knew why she couldn’t.

           After searching for what seemed like forever, Reiko saw a dim glowing. She turned her tornadoes back into regular legs and rushed towards it. There it was! the orb!

“Yes!” she yelled in joy

            She quickly grabbed it off its tower and turned to run back towards her base. As soon as she stepped away, however, a swift object flew pass her head and struck a building wall. Reiko gasped in shock.

“well would you look at that,” a random voice behind her started. Sukoru turned around slowly to find the source of the voice.

“I was just looking for the same thing, would you mind handing it over?” the voice asked, stepping out of the darkness.

               Sukoru got a good look at him. He was a short guy with pink, blue, and brown feathers for hair. He had burn marks all over his face and hazel eyes. This must be Sako.

“um…..nooooooooo?” she responded to his question. Reiko was never the best at quips and witty banter.

“Then I guess we’ll have to do things on hard mode, huh?” he said putting his hands on his hips and slowly shaking his head while looking down.

“uh, don’t you mean the hard wa-” Reiko started to ask before being interrupted by another blade like thing being thrown in her direction. It once again struck the wall behind her.

“you missed!” Reiko yelled half confidently half fearfully.

                  Sako walked towards a wall next to him. He touched it with one hand and opened his eyes widely. He brought one finger up to his eye and touched it. Reiko almost screamed at the sight but wanted to keep her confident composure. Like out of a movie, the wall he was touching dissolved and turned into a bow and arrow. The feather boy held it in his hand and slowly looked up towards Sukoru. She caught the message and began running away. Shots rang out behind her and whizzed pass her. One scraped her arm, she yelped with pain. That was more than enough reason to get her back in the air again. She turned her legs into fast winds and jumped up towards the sky. Soaring and flying above the buildings, the previous “maze” looked like a mere town from up here. She felt bad for any student that couldn’t fly. Speaking of which, she looked down with a grin at her previous attacker, only to see him sprout wings as well. He began to fly up to her.

“OKAY, DOES EVERYONE IN 1A HAVE TWO QUIRKS OR AM I MISSING SOMETHING?!” she yelled in disbelief at the flying boy.

                  He gave her a confused look before pulling out his concrete bow again. How it was even able to shoot was beyond her. She dodged and flew away, with Sako and his arrows following behind. On the bright side, he was much slower than her, but still able to keep pace. On the downside, he was shooting at her and Reiko couldn’t afford to get hit or she would fall down and be stuck in the maze again. Being at a huge disadvantage with someone who could fly. Out of nowhere, the shooting stopped. Careful not to slow down, Sukoru looked back at the boy following her. He turned his bow into a scythe. Reiko looked with confusion. There was no way he was planning to hit her with that short-ranged weapon. True to fruition, he didn’t hit her, but started spinning with said scythe.

                     “what was he-” Reiko began to think, but it hit her, literally. The wind generated from his spinning move was dispersing her body. He was turning into a fan! She started panicking. There’s no way he could have figured out her quirk that quick! He must be trying to throw her off balanced, but that didn’t matter. She now had to figure out how to get out of this. So, she looked at her options.

Let him keep blowing me? I’ll disperse, so fail.

Fly faster? No, I’ll disperse faster if I do, fail.

Turn normal? I’ll fall and hurt myself and possibly lose the match so, double fail.

                   At that moment, she had an idea. It wasn’t a smart one, but she didn’t have a choice. Looking at the spinning boy, she flew backwards, straight towards him. He noticed and stopped spinning, attempting to back up. Just as she thought, he was too soft to actually hit someone with that sharp weapon! Or maybe he just panicked from the quick body hurdling towards him. Whatever, now was her chance to knock him out. she reached to grab him, but he instantly got his composure back. Must be used to being dizzy. He attempted to swing at her with the scythe, but she grabbed it, dropping the orb in the process. As it fell, the boy threw the scythe into her arms and flew down to grab it. Reiko heavily underestimated its weight and almost fell with it. She was baffled by the idea that a small guy could carry such a heavy thing. Looking down, she saw that he had grabbed the orb and was now on the ground. She could not let him get back to his base. Yes, she was faster than him but not with this heavy scythe on her. Then she thought. With all her might she broke a piece and threw the rock, concrete, steal, whatever the hell the buildings were made off, scythe in the air. Then turned her arms and legs into giant clouds.

“I hope this doesn’t backfire” Sukoru thought.

The winds around her were picking up in speed and she began to lower them to the ground. The boy looked up to see were the drift was coming in and found out he was basically in a tornado.

“what the?” he asked looking up in shock

                 The draft showed no mercy and was blowing everything around. He struggled to keep his balance and dropped the orb as it rolled off. Soon the winds stopped. Sako looked around, but before he could process what happened, THUMP! His very own scythe dropped and hit him on the head knocking him unconscious. In panic, Reiko rushed to his aid. Luckily, there was no blood coming out of his head. However, after looking up for one second, she quickly grabbed his body and moved out of he way of the other piece of the scythe falling. Had that hit him, it would have been fatal. Reiko considered putting him on one of the buildings, but she was far too tired and dehydrated. So, she just left him, that wasn’t wrong, right? They know where he is right? They can just come and get him, I’m not doing anything wrong, right?

                 She shook her head and looked over to the area where the orb was. she picked it up and slowly started making her way back towards her side, or at least hoping it was her side. After five minutes of endless walking, she made it back to her turf and collapsed on the spot. Faintly hearing the speaker announcing her victory. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@taiyuu-high-oct

[laws-yellow-submarine]

First: please Skylar for the tag your OCs name ask :3 and second: I love your writing and your hcs! And third: you're awesome!!!!

no YOU’RE AWESOME!! lol thank you!! And thank you for showing interest in my brain child! (I did click the thing to put in a “read more” I hope it actually works lmfao)

Full Name: Valentine Skylar

Gender and Sexuality: Female, Bisexual (disaster)

Pronouns: She/Her

Ethnicity/Species: Human, and like, she’s pale af...

Birthplace and Birthdate: Capita Noir (island), December 17th

Guilty Pleasures: Singing at the top of her lungs all through the submarine (typically while she’s cooking or cleaning lol luckily she’s good at it, so most of the crew actually enjoys it...except Law who’s a grumpy grump, but he secretly enjoys it and would miss it if it weren’t there lol)

Phobias: The dark, spiders, not being able to live her life how she sees fit (less of a “phobia” and more of a general fear)

What They Would Be Famous For: In a modern setting? Probably for being a famous singing sensation of some kind (either pop, rock, or folk genres if I had to guess, she has the range). In OP she’s probably gonna be famous for being involved with one of the Heart Pirates’ shenanigans, I just haven’t figured out what yet lol she manages to avoid detection for the most part though due to her devil fruit, so it’s hard to say

What They Would Get Arrested For: Stealing; I wouldn’t say she’s like Nami level of thievery, but she’s pretty good at it lol stealing and espionage

OC You Ship Them With: I mean...she and Hazel would probably hit it off lol but even then, Hazel’s more likely to try and adopt her as another younger sibling than anything else (which is funny because they’re the same age). Other OC shipping option would be Mimi, who’s literally her ex so...yeah lol (and just because I can put it here, the character I ship her with, if it wasn’t painfully obvious, is Law lol)

OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Her mother, Valentine Quince :)

Favorite Movie/Book Genre: YA Fantasy/Romance/Things

Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: Not sure actually if this is asking for cliches (phrases) or tropes, so I’ll do both I guess? (Just cause cliches can be used in anything not just books and movies lol) “She’s a chip off the old block”; When it’s raining and the male love interest has to give the female love interest his clothes so she’ll stay warm and he’s all “I’ll be alright/You need it more than me” (Honestly anything involving wearing the other’s clothes and it leaves the other one half naked in a way that implies it’s due to person #1’s incompetence OR need to cover up because uwu boobs)

Talents and/or Powers: Devil Fruit powers that let her manipulate light particles so she can A. Camouflage/turn invisible, B. Create force fields, and C. Create an object out of “hardened” light for various uses (each of these is like, an increase in how much stamina it uses though)

Why Someone Might Love Them: She cares...so much lol like to the point it’s often detrimental to herself, but she just wants the people around her to be safe and happy. She notices things about the people around her and is able to anticipate someone’s needs before they ask for it (sometimes before they even realized they needed it). Also, she’s a lovable dork lol her jokes are bad but her heart is big, and you can’t go wrong with that lmao

Why Someone Might Hate Them: She’s so fucking dumb lmao like, ok she’s not stupid, but she fluctuates between making super rash, impulsive decisions that could get her or others killed (but objectively MAY be the right thing to do if she’d just put some thought into it), and just...not making a decision at all, to the point where it’s very frustrating trying to figure out what she wants, especially since often she doesn’t know herself

How They Change: As she sees the world, learns about the people she’s travelling with and the various people and places that exist outside of the little island she called home, she eventually stops being so timid on making decisions for herself, and learns to not be so scared to put her foot down and defend those decisions. At the beginning, even the impulsive ones are met with, at the very least, scolding and anxiety about whether it was the right decision. She eventually figures out you can’t change the past, so decide what you want to do and don’t waver, even if others don’t get it. (Basically my goal is to take her from “oh shit I shouldn’t have done that everyone hates me now” to “Damn right I did that thing and I don’t give a fuck if you hate me now, I stand by my decision!”)

Why You Love Them: Skylar’s my baby lmao I’ve been working and reworking and re-reworking her character for well over a year now, which is partly why I think I haven’t written more than the first chapter of her fic (I’m scared I won’t be able to make it as good on paper as it is in my head lol). She embodies a lot of my insecurities from when I was younger, from issues with sexuality to just finding that balance between putting yourself first vs putting others first. She goes through a lot of growth and change throughout her whole story, and she grows up so much while figuring out who she is, and it’s exciting for me to write, but it’s also terrifying both because I worry I won’t be able to portray it the way it should be portrayed, and also because it IS laying a lot of my soul to bear for strangers on the internet to judge (Though granted, they’re older demons now that I no longer deal with as heavily, but at one point they were very close to me lol). She got probably the worst aspects of my personality, and I can only hope that I’ve also instilled the good, at least enough that others can see it too (This ended up getting deep and philosophical whoops lmfao)

[topweeklyupdate]

TØP Weekly Update #62: They’re *Really* Back (9/14/18)

We knew going into this week that there was a real storm coming, and that was an understatement. Though the complete Trench album is still waiting to be released, it really feels like the band is back more than ever. 

This update is a novel-sized doozy. Grab your new merch, and let’s dive into it.

This Week’s TØPics:

A Complete Diversion in London Brings Trench (and a Flaming Car) to the Stage

The Boys Speak to the Press: Rock Sound and Alt Press Announce Special TØP Issues, and the Boys Hop Back Onto Radio

First Details Emerge About “Neon Gravestones”, “Pet Cheetah”, Clancy, Nico, and More As the Press Hear the Album for the First Time

Major News and Announcements:

The big one finally hit: after over a year, Twenty One Pilots returned to their home on the stage. They started making flex moves before the show even started. They arrived in London two days in advance, rehearsing and playing soundchecks into the night that die-hard campers could hear from outside the venue. They arranged for folks in Bandito uniforms to dispense 150 tickets to those that showed up at the box office.  The venue delivered food to the queue, and the Clique in turn donated their blankets and duvets to a local soup kitchen. Pretty darn sweet.

The real event was even sweeter. 

Twenty One Pilots did not quite pull out all of the stops for their first performance in over a year. The set was just over an hour, did not debut any never-before-heard songs, did not include any special guests, and mainly stuck to the skeleton of the Blurryface Era setlist. And you know what? There was absolutely nothing wrong with that. If anything, Tyler and Josh keeping things focused on dusting off the old gears and introducing a few new elements for the Trench era resulted in a tight and emotional return for today’s greatest band. (Shout out to Ohio Clique for editing fifteen different Periscope and Instagram Live streams together to make a cohesive concert movie.)

Highlights of the show include:

There were no screens present in the smaller venue, but the production crew did make sure to bust out a ton of other great production elements, including tons of lights and, most notably, the car from the  “Heavydirtysoul” video that bursts into flames at key points during certain songs- including, at one point, when Tyler was standing on it.

The Clique brought the production value in the crowd, too: beyond all the folks dressed up as Banditos and Bishops, you also had plenty of people bring in yellow screens for their flashlights and yellow flowers and petals to offer Tyler.

The setlist was pretty sensible, with the four new Trench singles plus all of the songs that you would have expected them to play at an old festival show (minus “Guns for Hands” and “Tear In My Heart”, no I’m not sweating, why?). It is interesting that “WDBWOTV” and “The Judge” were played, but I suspect that it was mainly to justify bringing out the ukulele for “Nico”; if there are more uke tracks on Trench, I would not be surprised to see one or both of these songs dip out of the regular rotation.

Tyler had to stop the show twice to help people out of the pit- it was that kind of show.

The show opened with Josh coming out on stage in full Bandito regalia, torch in hand, looking like a badass. After sitting down at the drums and playing a few simple sequences, a masked man with a bass guitar walked out on the stage, started playing “Jumpsuit”’s gnarly riff, and yelled for the crowd to “GET UP!” Awesome. Twenty One Pilots is back, mate.

Tyler stumbled over a few lyrics in “Jumpsuit” and “Levitate”, but he successfully played it off- only the most diehard fans would have caught that he wasn’t just pausing for breath or to hear the crowd.

Tyler actually yelled “Why’d you come, you know you should have stayed?” at the end of “Heathens”, and it sounded damn good. Hope it sticks for future shows.

Tyler’s “WDBWOTV” pre-speech was a pretty good inaugural address for the Trench Era. He let the rabid audience know that he had been watching them since before the concert (both literally and metaphorically), joked about needing to get back in “show shape”, and thanked London for being a home away from home for them. In gratitude for hosting them, Tyler even announced that they were adding a third arena show at Wembley and joked that Mark should tweet it or something (he did).

Prior to playing “Nico”, Tyler adorned a bright yellow jacket over his usual uke kimono; Josh helpfully banged the drums dramatically for every successful button.

Tyler and Josh did the handshake during “Nico”, because of course they did.

For “My Blood”, Tyler drew from the old playbook and attempted to direct the two halves of the audience to sing harmonies. It worked even better than it used to with “Doubt”, much to Tyler’s evident glee- his smile and little dance to everyone singing his new song back at him was probably the best moment of the whole show.

The Trees Speech was short and sweet, with Tyler promising that he’s written “pages and pages” of things he wants to say, but for now all he can say is that they’ll be coming back on the new tour with “things we’ve never seen before” and that the fans look so good.

#YellowConfettiConfirmed

In the last bit of major news: new merch (that Josh stitched himself, be nice) and a new yellow Trench vinyl that I’m sure won’t immediately sell out. Have fun spending your life savings, kids!

Other Shenanigans:

The band was active in other spaces this week, of course. After Zane Lowe broke open the floodgates last week, both Rock Sound and Alternative Press announced that they would release some exclusive Trench Era Content (tm). Rock Sound’s came in the form of a thirty-page mag featuring a lengthy 22-page feature comprised of the first interview the two bands gave together since before the hiatus, Tyler and Josh’s first full photoshoot in over a year, and tons of awesome posters and Clique art. It definitely is not available in any form on the Internet that I’m afraid to link to lest I get pegged for copyright and sent to jail. Highlights of this interview that I certainly haven’t read include:

Lots of typical Rock Sound purple prose, in which the writer goes off on more tangential metaphors than even Tyler Robert Joseph.

The reporter describes Tyler’s house as “quite stunning” (yeah, with that Blurryface money combined with Columbus real estate values, I should hope so).

Josh laughs at the memory of some of their old costumes. “Those suits were so hot,” he says, as if those heavy coats aren’t a billion degrees inside.

Tyler: “There’s something healthy about realizing that the world keeps turning. Sometimes it can feel like the whole world is revolving around you- I think we all selfishly get to that point. When you have those moments, when you stop and realize that even if you weren’t there those other people would be, it lifts a weight that can feel very heavy. It motivates you to want to come up with a reason why you’re here.”

Tyler says they cut out social media during the hiatus in part because “removing the ability to run straight to it was important. For me, writing music is the thing I want to run to when I feel compelled or inspired. Whether it’s frustration or anger or compassion, whatever it is that I wanted to express, I wanted it to live somewhere new. I didn’t want one drop of meaningful expression to live anywhere else.” Additionally, they did want to test whether the Clique would stick around, and even kinda hint that they wanted to shrink how crowded some of the rooms they entered were becoming.

We are assured, however, that the next “hiatus” will not be the exact same as this. Tyler: “Going away broke my heart. It hurt that we weren’t able to tell people why we had gone, but I’m an advocate of showing people what I’ve been working on rather than telling them how hard I’m working. [...] That said, though we don’t know what the timeframe will be or if we’ll take another break, the manner in which we left... we’ll never do that again.”

I’m just gonna leave this here: “He tells us also of the beautiful relationship he has with his wife, Jenna, and the role that she played in helping him unlock the words and the sounds that would form the basis of this new chapter; of the times he would hand her the phone while behind the wheel of his car to allow her to record anything from melodies to simple poems.” Yeah, will someone sweep up all the pieces of my heart that are just lying on the floor, that’d be great.

Tyler has long had the idea to tell a geographic story, much longer than since the end of the last cycle, and he didn’t always intend to tell it through music. “I feel like in our mind there are places we learn we shouldn’t go.”

Tyler says that there are lots of songs that he writes that never see the light of day because he has moved past the season he wrote them in by the time it comes to record them.

Rock Sound is positively glowing in its brief advance review of the album, saying it is undoubtedly the best project of 2018, “a labor of love”, “a varied, often spectacular collection” with some of the band’s all-time greatest moments. It will be even more sonically diverse than we’ve come to expect: “Morph” is described as “old-school R&B”, “The Hype” “anthemic indie-rock”, “Pet Cheetah” has “stomping beats and a fiery rap verse.” The highlight, though, is apparently “Neon Gravestones”, “a piano-laden spoken word masterpiece” with lyrical content that “will save at least one person’s life”. Damn.

Alt Press will also be releasing a 24-page cover feature on the band and were even nice enough to include a fun video ad from the boys. They’re so cute, and I’ve missed them so much. (Also, Tyler’s checkered pants are a quality meme.)

After the Complete Diversion, Tyler and Josh performed a mini-press tour. First, they gave five-minute interview with Annie Mac on BBC Radio 1 and an Instagram Stories AMA on the station’s account. Highlights of this quickie include:

Josh and Tyler joke that specifying the exact number of months they’ve been away sounds like a mother saying their kid is “14 months” instead of a year old.

Tyler notes that this was the first performance in a long time that they’ve felt truly nervous, as they could no longer rely on muscle memory to carry them through after the long break, particularly with the new songs.

Annie references her last interview with Josh, where he confessed to be nervous about whether the fans would return. When asked if the first show helped them overcome those nerves, Tyler replied honestly, “To an extent, yes.” They chuckle about it, but the implication remains thick: the dedicated fanbase certainly turned up, but there is no assurance that they’ll have long-term mainstream success in the future. They seem cool with that.

Tyler states that they chose London specifically to make their return because, besides Columbus, it’s the only city where they have played in every size of venue, from the Barfly club to the Ally Pally and everything in-between over the course of fifteen shows. That type of home atmosphere made it feel right to start the new era there.

Josh says they played a bowling alley in London once. He did not wear bowling shoes in the set nor when he bowled afterward, which, as Tyler points out, is very punk rock.

Tyler reflects on how this show represents years of preparation and practice teaching them how to “trim the fat” and master the tempo and flow of the concert to appear as confident as possible and bring the audience along for a well-planned journey.

“My Blood” is one of the most challenging songs for both artists to play, particularly Tyler, as he has to balance the difficult falsetto with keeping that bassline groovy and consistent.

The IG answers were mostly just the dudes trying and failing to answer basic questions like “Are you happy to be back?” and “What’s it like to be famous?” in as few words as possible without giggling, hugging, and tickling each other. Best Q/A: Why did they watch the Grammys in their underwear? “We didn’t have air-conditioning.”

South African DJ Rob Forbes from Radio 5FM also conducted a truly fascinating interview with the band, the first that dives into the lore and one that gives us even more of a glimpse into some of the future songs. Additionally, Mr. Forbes briefly posted the tracklist w/ time-codes, revealing that both “Chlorine” and “Bandito” go over five minutes- get hyped, kids. Highlights from this interview include:

When asked about Clancy, Tyler responds with a pregnant silence before asking how the the interviewer knew about him. DJ Forbes stutters an answer about having listened to the record, but Tyler replies that Clancy’s not on the record. All he does say about Clancy is “I’ve heard about him, and I know we’re from the same place.” What is up with your cryptic nonsense, Tyler Robert Joseph?

The band intentionally left the Trench Trilogy open-ended to be able to continue it in the future. Tyler did not mean to make the timeline confusing, but did note that its cyclical nature left it open for the Clique to pursue that interpretation.

Tyler is careful with choosing his words to describe Nico. He admits the whole thing is pretty confusing (his grandma asked him once, “What’s a Nico?”), but that was his intention: he wanted to give the Clique a lot to think about and discuss as a reward for waiting so long. He does seem to confirm that Nico is Blurryface, or at least an aspect of him that represents how much more familiar Tyler has become with the nature of his own insecurities as he writes about it.

Tyler denies that the final verse of “Neon Gravestones” has a specifically political bend and actually sounds a little offended that something so important to him could be cast in that light. No idea what that means, I need to hear this song.

The interviewer says that Tyler calls his “Pet Cheetah” “Jason Statham” within the song itself in a fun rap verse. Tyler laughs and says that came from an inside joke between him and Josh that he was excited to bring to life. I am SO confused, you have no idea.

Tyler says that they had plans at one point to come to South Africa for a show that fell through at the last second, but that they’re still interested in going at some point in the future.

Additionally, the music production interest site Mix did a small spotlight on the producers behind Trench. We already knew that Paul Meany was handling main production duty; Darrell Thorpe, whose credits include Radiohead, OutKast, Paul McCartney, and Foster the People, joined him as an engineer while the band captured the album’s drum tracks at United Recording Studios in LA, the only studio they used outside of the one in Tyler’s home. It’s always cool to see the dudes who bring the band’s music to life, but, to be honest, the best part of this short little article is Tyler’s dad socks in the photo.

Oh, and music video director Andrew Donoho told Billboard that he can’t spoil the album or Tyler will burn down his house. So... yeah, okay, moving on.

Chart Performance:

After its first full week of sales and streaming, “My Blood” secured a debut at #16 on the Billboard Bubbling Under chart ranking the songs that have yet to reach the Hot 100. The song gains at all metrics, and according to some industry sources like Headline Planet, it is receiving a concentrated marketing push to pop and adult contemporary markets that its predecessors have not. “Jumpsuit” continues to fade, but its run was respectable, and I remain optimistic about Trench’s commercial prospects going forward, especially in the midst of this hype wave.

Whew. That was a long run. Congrats to everyone who made it all the way to the end. We’re so close to Trench, you guys. Keep powering through. Stay alive. And power to the local dreamer.

|-/

[frenchly-anxious]

To those who struggle, and to those who are willing to help.

For the Mental Health Day

Last night, I woke up at 2 am, text notifications shining in the dark.

“Hey”

“I need your help”

Maybe you don’t realize how glad and relieved I feel each time it happens. I don’t mind missing a few hours of sleep ; it’s nothing. My best friend, fighting against depression, self-harm and anxiety, is reaching out to people when she needs help. That’s not nothing.

I used to live in total ignorance. No text in the middle of the night, no worry when she wasn’t answering my text, no panic when she wouldn’t show up at school. She thought she was protecting me. She didn’t realized back then it wasn’t the case.

When she finally told me, I was horrified. Not by what she was doing to herself when she couldn’t fight anymore ; but by the fact I had never seen it coming. There was guilt, of course. “Maybe I could have done something ?” There was guilt on her side too, because she kept on telling herself “Why am I doing that to her ?”.

It took us a bit of adjustment, but we realized a few things : first, I wasn’t a bad friend, and she wasn’t a bad friend.

I couldn’t read mind and impose my help if she didn’t want it.

She had to make the decision to tell me, and it was okay to hesitate, to be terrified, and it was okay to be in pain. But it was okay to decide to share.

We exchange a lot about it, on how she felt, how people were looking at her and reacting all the wrong ways.

No, telling someone who faces depression to “just smile” isn’t a advice, and yes, she knows “it’s in her head” but it doesn’t change the fact it’s overwhelming and she feels powerless. It’s a long and difficult battle.

No, telling someone who self-harm to “stop right now or I’ll stop talking to you” will not change anything because it’s not that easy. And saying “what you’re doing is disgusting” is just stupid, because most of the time, the person who self-harm is the one finding it the most disgusting, a little more after each cut, but can’t help themself doing it again the next time. You don’t need to add guilt to a pile which is already threatening to drown them.

Years later, she would tell me when she had self-harmed or had felt very bad, but only a few days after it happened, because she needed time to gather her strenght. She would always start by “You’re gonna be pissed/mad/dissapointed, but...” I was never pissed/mad/dissapointed. Why ? Because she had stopped bottling it up and it was great. But more importantly, it wasn’t my place to judge her. To be honest, it’s no one place.

My place is to say “Okay, what do you need ? How can I help ?”.

And to come back to what I was pointing at the beginning, she wasn’t “protecting me” by not telling me. I felt even worse to know I hadn’t done anything for years. But more than that, it made me think. What if she had never told me ? What if one day, I would have learn from her parents that she killed herself, because it was too much and there was nobody to help her ? This is not protecting me. I’m her friend, I’m not here for decoration, okay. It’s up to me to decide if I want to help, she is not supposed to make the choice for me. Always remember : there’s no point in hiding it completely to the world. You’re hurting yourself and other around you, whereas it might actually help you.

She told me one day that, to her, the best gift you can give to someone fighting depression/self-harm, is to propose activities to do. See a movie, spend time together, ... Because for a few hours, she could forget and enjoy the present time. And I would add : not to be mad if the person refuse. There’s good and bad days ; what worked yesterday might not work tomorrow. For some people, talking about it is not the best option. My best friend hate it. She did when absolutely necessary, like explaining how I could help and what not to do. But it wasn’t making her feel better. Sharing to family, friends, made her feel worse for “hurting people important to her”. You’ll have to find the right balance.

More importantly : you’re not their psychologist, you’re not trained to help them, it’s not your job. It’s amazing if you want to help, you might make a great difference. But you can also make a lot of damages, to your friend or to yourself. Be careful, seek advice.

Nowadays, my best friend and I have arrived to a point where she text me each time she feels like she hit rock bottom. Each time she feels overwhelmed or each time the urge to self-harm is so violent she’s not sure she’ll be able to contain it. So we talk, I try to give advice, I make stupid jokes to lighten the mood, I confort her.

As I said, we discussed it a lot before that. I made very clear that I absolutely don’t know what I’m doing. I’m flying blind. Well, not exactly. I made a lot of research, but each person is different.

I told her “I’m gonna do my absolute best to try to help you, to be there when you need me”.  And it helps. Sometimes, that’s just enough, you know. To be there, and to be ready to listen. On the opposite, sometimes, seeing someone is simply too much ; but it’s amazing to hear “Okay, I’m backing off for the moment, but I’m still there if you need me”.

And everytime I felt like I couldn’t do anything, that it was too big for me, I was reminding her “You know I won’t force you into doing anything, but maybe you should start considering asking help from a professionnal. A psychologist could give you what I can’t”.

Recently, she decided to meet a psychologist. She’s terrified. But she’s going for it. I remind her very often how proud she can be. It’s not weakness to need a little extra help. You wouldn’t deny an asthmatic their meds, right ? Why would you deny yourself this help ? Whether it’s therapy or meds, it can help you, so try ! It’s hard to ask for help, I get it and I won’t judge if right now it’s not possible for you. But keep it in mind. Leave the door open.

To all the people struggling, I want to point out something. My best friend had had a horrible series of events in her life, and it keeps on getting worse. However, she told me multiple times that she didn’t feel like she had the right to be so unhappy, because so much people have it worse and are not complaining. You know the “funny” thing ? When I had psychology lessons at university, one of my teacher (who was a psychologist) shared this with us : she met people with the most horrible trauma, with terrible childhood, parents and pretty much everything that can come into your mind (and more). These people were telling her :

“But some people have it worse, I shouldn’t be having such a hard time/ I shouldn’t need so much help !”

See the problem ? Your brain is convincing you you don’t deserve help. It doesn’t matter “how bad” it is. Your brain will always make you believe you don’t deserve it or you’re not worth it. You have to remember that there’s no small or big struggle. Everyone deserves help, okay ? No matter the reason, your sadness is valid. (I see you, over there, rolling your eyes ! Yes, you ! Your reasons are valid and you deserve to be happy, and if you’re not convinced, I will find you, kick your ass, and give you a big hug, okay ?)

And yes, it can get better. My best friend’s life is getting better, even if a few years ago, she was certain there was no hope. It’s not perfect, it probably never will be. It doesn’t mean it’s not worth it, I promise. It might not be what you were expecting, but you’ll find your own happiness. And this time I say it from my own experience.

To all the people willing to help, know this is a hard road. There’s no “line” you can pass where things are going to be definitely better. Progress is not linear either. Depression and self-harm, among other difficulties, are not that easy to push away.

The best thing you can do is to be present, to be non-judgmental, to be patient, and try your best to understand. Spoiler alert : you might never really understand, and I hope you’ll never fully understand - it’ll mean you have never faced this kind of hardship. But willing to try is important, and might means the world to the person you’re trying to help.

Don’t be mad if they had a relapse. It happens. Don’t make them feel ashamed - they do that enough on their own. Don’t ask them constantly how they’re doing, it’s patronizing. Instead, do simple thing like you would do with anyone else ! Tell each other about your day, a TV show you watch, send a picture of something you find funny, ... Ask them to tell you how you can help without being annoying. Ask them to tell you when you go too far, and what you could do differently.

And please, please ! Take care of yourself too. You can’t help someone if you’re not okay yourself. You won’t help anyone if doing so drag you down too : you will make them feel even worse. Try not to be the only one helping them, so you won’t have to fight every single battle. You want your friend to ask for help ; don’t forget to ask for help yourself.

I love you all, no matter your battles and no matter if you think you deserve it or not. You can do it, and if you don’t believe it, I’ll believe for you.

Fight your battles like this penguin fight this guy. You are a badass, just like this penguin.

(sorry, it was a long long rant from a French who hopes it was helpful)

[myfuturescratchbook]

Just like always - Chapter 2

Characters: Dean, Sam, John (mentioned: Caleb and Bobby)

Summary: For the first time in years, Dean lets his hopes go high for an actual birthday. But things never go very well with Winchesters, especially if they are supposed to go as planned.

Word Count: 4564

Part 1

“See ya, brat.”

“Have a nice evening, sir.”

With a last wave to the kid with the puffy cheeks behind the counter full of snacks and lighters Dean strolled out of the gas’n’sip, not without activating the entry chime sounding like a flock of noisy ducks. Maybe birds, not ducks. Still unnecessary, still annoying the grumpy grandpa next to the door, so he made sure to hear it every time he entered or left the shop. During the three weeks they had been here, he had gotten used to the people hanging out around. They didn’t even have school last week, because of a local holiday or something. Dean didn’t really know or care why there were no classes, he was just glad there wasn’t, because that was how he’d discovered the secret party place of his local peers. More importantly, that way it had been easy to match their schedule to dad’s and find a good time for the movie on Wednesday.

Dean kicked a round stone, first on accident, but he liked the sound of rock against the payment, so after making sure there was no one around, he started kicking it towards the motel they were staying in. He let it successfully bounce back from the fence of one of the standard gardens of the standard houses on this pretty much standard street in a suburb a couple times, getting into a rhythm. Once again, his eyes wandered, and after confirming no one was in earshot, he started humming Metallica.

He chuckled as he thought of Sam’s reaction when he’d shown him the new tapes he’d bought. But house rules in the Impala were unbreakable, and Sam was always the one to shut his cakehole when either Dad or Dean picked the music. And Dad always put in Dean’s tapes, no matter how much Sammy would whine about it. Dean knew their father enjoyed watching a sulking Sam in the backseat after that, the beat forcing him to nod along, just like Dean enjoyed it. Sometimes he’d turn the volume up, sending a small wink Dean’s way.

Sometimes, though, Sam and Dad would team up against Dean, and that wasn’t fun at all, at least not for Dean. Last week Sam had made fun of him for getting dumped by that Elena chick, and Dad had laughed and said it served him right, for spending so much money on dates. And they had started to make a list of how many times Dean had gotten the brush-off and what he’d deserved it for. That evening had lasted forever.

Dean sighed as he shoved the rock around the corner. It was getting rare to see his brother and father in synch like before. Sam always complained, and knew exactly how to rub the man the wrong way, and Dad would get stricter and louder and harder in fear of letting them go too far astray.

Despite all that, they were going to the theatre together, just like the old times, and Dean couldn’t wait for it.

Birthdays weren’t a big deal for Winchesters, and Dean didn’t mind, but he was damn grateful for Sammy’s idea. Not that he’d told him how much, but it was really nice.

Last year, Dean had been in the hospital after a hunt while Dad and Sam where already on the next one. The year before there had been the wendigo stuff going on, and before that Dad had dropped them off somewhere as the werewolf he was hunting turned out to be in town.

Dean didn’t take it personal, he really didn’t. Dad cared about them, he always worried, and he would bring home a pie or something within a week after their birthdays. But hunts were important. Everything in their lives was important, and birthdays were just days anyway.

Even this year, Dean wasn’t happy because it was his birthday. Well, it wasn’t the main reason. He would finally watch the movie he’d been waiting for months, only to be too busy in the short weeks the movie was running.

But Sammy had found it here. And they were gonna watch it. All three of them, together.

Before he knew it, he had already reached the parking of the motels. His eyes fell on the black Impala, parked a little sideways, shining in the orange evening sun in all its glory.

Dean threw a look at their door before heading towards the car. He wasn’t in a hurry, anyway.

Once he reached the Impala, he carefully put the groceries on the ground next to the tires, only to put his hand on the trunk and feel the cold but familiar texture beneath his fingers. He went towards the front side, not breaking the contact. “Hey, beautiful.”

He could see the tapes from where he was standing, the collection Dad had started years ago. At one side of the box, Dean had put his own few ones, starting his own collection last year. Now it seemed like it was waiting to be expanded. There was an empty bottle in the back seat, for which he’d kill Sam later, and the compartment next to the driver’s seat had to be sorted, too. His fingers twitched at the sight of the empty seat and motionless steer. If he had the keys on him, he’d surely take a tour around the block, just for the fun of it. He’d missed riding the car. Dad took it to his research every day, not giving Dean a chance to make a small detour.

He stopped as he caught sight of the spots of grime and dirt on the fender parts. “Hey, baby, what happened here?” He went on his knees to take a closer look, deep frowns forming on his face. The typical traces of high speed on wet land roads were all over the lower parts. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed with some water and soap. “It’s gonna be okay, we’ll get you cleaned up, all right? I’ll make you shine tomorrow.”

He stood up, rubbing his hands against each other to pat off the dirt, giving his back to the side of the car and fixing his eyes on no particular spot. “Baby, if you were mine, I would clean you up every day,” he spoke with a sigh. “I would never let Sam eat his rabbit food inside, I would kill every bird looking at you the wrong way.”

He would give anything to get the car. Driving the impala, owning it, had been his dream since Dad had taught him to drive. But even then, he’d known that Dad wouldn’t give it up easily. He’d bought the car way before Dean had been born, and there was a special bond between them, too. He hadn’t even dared to ask.

He’d met many boys his age that had their own cars. If he wanted to, Dean could probably buy a small one, too, or repair one at Bobby’s place and take it. Bobby had offered often enough.

Dean pulled a breath, enjoying the company of baby until he’d leave in a minute.

He wouldn’t buy another car. The car he owned, if it wasn’t his baby, what was even the point? No, he was okay with walking most of the time if he could take her once or twice a week. Most weeks.

“Someday, beautiful, someday, you’ll be mine.”

With another sigh and a last gaze at the car, he took the bags, and made his way to the motel room.

Finally, he arrived at the door, but as soon as he was within earshot his good mood vanished. There were voices – shouting. They were fighting. Again. Dean tried to ignore the nausea was creeping in, spreading in his stomach. Judging from the volume it seemed serious and Dean prepared for his mediator role before they took off each other’s head.

While fumbling with the keys he tried to figure out what exactly they were fighting about.

“No, you’re not training enough. Not nearly,” he heard his father yell. He sighed. Training, of course. What else.

“Would it kill you to just once tell me I should study, Dad? Or read a book, or stop sitting around and go meet friends? Like any normal father does?”

Dean opened the door. None of them took notice.

“You are already studying, and you will get your degree or diploma or whatever anyways. I don’t expect you to bring home good grades, I expect you to do your training and to be able to protect yourself.”

Dean sneaked into the kitchen, and put the stuff next to the crowded sink. He pulled out his leather jacket while he entered the room the shouting match took place. He threw it across the couch as he assessed the situation.

Sam was articulating while saying something about being strong enough already and hunting, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, while Dad just stared at him, cold and motionless like a rock.

This was bad.

Before he could catch up on the exact content of the next exchange, he heard Sammy say, “right, Dean?” and suddenly all eyes were on him. Dean swallowed. Both Dad and Sammy expected him to back them up, and Dean knew they were both right at some points, but saying that would only disappoint both sides, and help nothing. He had to find a solution, right now, or a distraction, also right now.

They continued to stare, and Dean felt the pressure rise under the anger that was not directed at him originally, but was still shooting daggers from both sides. Preferably closer than now.

“I brought pie…?”

Dean cringed on the inside. Not only did awfully like a question and generally like something the most embarrassing character would say in a comedy show to make the audience laugh, and his attempted smile was probably crackling to a grimace, but he also knew that the only person in the room to get distracted by pie in almost any situation was… Dean himself.

He was glad he’d bought apple, by the way.

And the shouting started again.

After cursing at himself he tried tuning in again.

“Guys…”

Dad ignored him, making a step towards Sam, pointing his finger at his chest. “I am trying to teach you what you have to know, so that you won’t have to learn it the hard way!”

“You mean this is the easy way? You made us run in the middle of the night, Dad! In January, in snow!”

“It’s easier than the way life teaches you!”

“Sam, come on…”

Sam didn’t listen. “Life isn’t gonna teach me anything if you don’t force it!”

“It isn’t? Like it didn’t teach the family in Indiana? Or the girl that lost her brother to the werewolf? Or maybe the other guy who got turned before he knew what was going on?”

Yeah, Dad, well done, bring up the ones we couldn’t save, you know how Sammy likes these.

“I don’t want to have to do with any of those, Dad! I just want to go to school and read books, not live horror stories myself.”

“You don’t always get what you want, Sam.”

Dean hissed as his head started to pound, like the words were hammering down on him, his hand on his temple by reflex. It wasn’t even the first time. Lately, every single conversation between his brother and his dad seemed to be a fight, and every time he tried to stay calm, but he was getting enough of this.

“I never get what I want, Dad, never! You always make sure of that. You never ask what I want, what I like, it doesn’t matter, it never does. I’m sick of this! I’m sick of hunting, sick of moving, sick of training, sick of this life!”

Sam’s harsh words cut the noise, and for a couple seconds, it was silent. Dad didn’t say anything at first, but Dean could see his jaw clenching at Sam’s rejection of everything they’d worked for. Dean knew he had to do something, or things were going really far south really fast. He stepped between them, pushing Sam back a step, raising his hands to calm his father down. “Dad, he didn’t mean it like that, he didn’t mean to -”

“Yes, I did!”

Dean turned to his fuming brother behind him, trying to convey the message with his eyes. “Sam, shut up for a sec -”

“No, I won’t, I won’t shut up, Dean!”

Great, little brother in toddler mode. Dean suppressed a groan with difficulty. “Sammy, please, not now.” On the other hand, he was grateful that Dad hadn’t pushed him out of his way yet.

“You know what?” Sam squinted at him, finally giving his big brother attention. “I’m sick of you always being on his side, too. Just because you like training, you always keep your mouth shut!”

Ouch, that stung. But Dean bit back any comment before he could even think of it. Between these two, he didn’t have the luxury to be butthurt, so he turned back to his father. “Dad, you know him, he’s just a teeny, it’s his time of the month. He doesn’t -”

But Dad pushed him aside at his shoulders. So much for being grateful for not doing that. “Stop making excuses for him, Dean. You’re trying to protect him, but not learning his lessons will only put him in danger in the long run.”

Putting him in danger. Dean would never, ever put Sam in danger. Dad knew that!

Right. Dad knew that. No need to comment. Shut your mouth, Dean, already enough tension here.

Apparently, the few seconds Dean didn’t use to answer were all Dad needed for his decision. “Fine, Sam,” he declared, as if everything was over now, “Pack your stuff. We’re leaving tomorrow first thing.”

“What? Why?”

“You say you have learned enough? You’ll show me on hunts.”

But… the hunt was on the weekend. The hunt wasn’t before Friday. Another voice whispered in Dean’s head, a selfish, stupid, childish one, and he hated it. The hunt wasn’t supposed to be before Wednesday.

“You said the hunt isn’t before Friday.” Sam squinted in suspicion.

“I’ll give Singer a call and he’ll pile all the cases he finds for this week on your plate. Then we’ll see if you’ve grown up or not.”

Dean could hear the challenge in his father’s voice, the dare for Sam to disagree.

Sam heard it, too. And Sam didn’t back off. “Fine.”

It took a second to register the meaning of the words as they echoed in Dean’s head, just like the sharp pain coming in stronger waves every time Dean. The nausea was rising, too.

Something… something in this conversation was missing. “So, we’re leaving tomorrow morning?”

Finally, Dad looked at him, really saw him for the first time since he’d entered the house. “You were already on a hunt last week, with Caleb. You did you’re training. And Sam needs to do this without you’re help. You’re staying.”

“But…” He wasn’t even sure what to say, how to change Dad’s mind. It was like his brain had turned into a swampy sponge, not working like it should, only creating a bigger mess.

“You’re staying, Dean.”

Dean broke off. He knew he had a better chance to try a new hunt on his own. Not a good chance.

He met Sam’s eyes for a second. Sam was still burning with rage, crumbles of anger towards Dean in his eyes for not backing him up, but he was also aware that next week was going to be hell. Dad would push him harder than ever, and Sam had never hunted alone before. Well, technically he wasn’t alone. But he hadn’t hunted without Dean. Dad would never let Sam get hurt, but he wouldn’t reassure him either, try and make him feel safe and protected, two things Sam usually didn’t feel while fighting monsters. That was kinda the whole point.

Dean looked back at his father, who was still demanding a sign that Dean understood, accepted. Obeyed, like he always did. Dean knew he hoped for Dean to cooperate, and maybe talk later to Sam and explain why this had to be done. Why Sam had to train, to be strong, why he had to become a hunter.

But right now, Dean didn’t want to support either of them. Something next to his nausea was building up inside, anger, confusion and a different kind of sting, and he just looked back and forth between his family.

Dad was the first to realize. Dean saw the change in his eyes.

And Dean waited, waited for him to say the hunt could start on 25th, not before 24th, or just sometime later. Because it didn’t matter, it didn’t matter at all when this thing took place, he hadn’t even asked Bobby yet.

But Dad waited for Dean to accept.

“Yessir,” Dean said, but he couldn’t quite tone down the disbelief. And that made Sam remember.

His little brother’s eyes went wide in realization and filled with guilt.

And Dean waited once more, waited for any attempt of apology towards Dad, an explanation, an attempt to make it alright. But Sam continued to look at Dean with those puppy eyes saying sorry, not giving in to what Dean was sure was one of his most chiding glares.

Then Dad said something both more granting and cruel than he ever had. “Sam?” His voice wasn’t as firm as ever, as closed to compromise, as written in stone as ever. Say you’re sorry and we can stay.

Dean could see Sammy’s struggle, already knowing the outcome. Sam wouldn’t be Sam if he backed off on his word. Just like Dad wouldn’t be Dad if he’d just let it slip once.

“As I said, it’s fine, sir.”

And Dean wouldn’t be Dean if he didn’t hate himself for thinking about the movie, about their plans, about the next week he was going to spend alone. Not while Sam was thinking about an intensive training camp and Dad was going to spend his whole week on edge. He wouldn’t be Dean if he wasn’t angry at himself for being a chick over a ruined birthday like it was the first time.

And he was angry at himself. But it didn’t stop him from grabbing his jacket and leaving the motel without giving neither his brother nor his father another look.

He first thought about hitting a bar, maybe talk to a waitress or two, but his head was about to explode and there was a chance that anything that entered his stomach would leave the same way, so that idea was dismissed quickly.

Instead, he started wandering through the streets, trying to understand why he was the one upset about the situation. He hadn’t even been involved in the fight. Dad let him stay here, he could still go and watch the movie.

He kicked the stone he’d absentmindedly started to play with a little too hard, sending it over the street, right under a parking car. He didn’t even want to watch the stupid movie anymore.

Was it because it was his birthday? But he didn’t care about birthdays, he never had. It was just a day. Besides, he was used to it. Just like he’d been used to it last year when he’d stayed at the hospital where the nurses weren’t even hot, and he’d spent his day calling Sam and Dad and Bobby, because the two hadn’t answered, and Bobby had known what the hunt was about. He’d annoyed Bobby to the point the old man had told him to shut up, take his medicine and go to sleep, and to quit worrying. Sam had called the next day, swearing the hunt hadn’t given him the chance to call. Dean believed him, Sam wouldn’t make Dean worry if he could help it, and he’d never forget his birthday. But it hadn’t been the same.

It hadn’t been the same when Sam had sung happy birthday the year before that, when they were hunting the wendigo in the woods, waiting for Dad to return to their safe circle. It had been better though, at least they had been together.

Dean took a deep breath. No, it wasn’t about his birthday. He wasn’t going to sulk over a birthday like a child. He wouldn’t be pissed because he was going to be the one to stay back for a week. Besides, being alone meant he didn’t have to listen to their stupid fights, he didn’t have to force Sammy to do his exercises. He could party all week, stay out whole day, he could do whatever he wanted to.

Yeah, a free week would definitely be fun. It was gonna be fun. If only his head would stop pulsing like a bouncing basketball.

He tried not to think about how dangerous every hunt was, no matter how easy. How it took a simple mistake to die with your heart ripped apart or blood sucked out or brain eaten up. How much he wanted to help Dad, protect Sammy…

But Dad was the best. He wouldn’t get hurt, he wouldn’t let Sammy get hurt. Dean didn’t have to be there. They didn’t need him. And like Dad said, Sam needed to toughen up and for that, Dean was just in the way.

He could stay back a week. He could survive that. And they would come back, pick him up. Dad would bring pie, and Sam would babble about how awful hunting was, and when they were alone, he would tell Dean what went bad and what he did good, and how nice it was to save the child or granny or puppy or whatever. It was going to be fine. It definitely was.

But right now, Dean had to go home. Because he wouldn’t see Sam for a week and Sam was certainly nervous and feeling bad, and Dean had to do a pep-talk, maybe even a chick-flick moment to get his head in the game. When Sam felt like he’d messed up, he wasn’t himself the next few days. He’d drowse off, sulk when he thought no one was watching, and keep trying to apologize in the most awkward moments. But he couldn’t do that this time. Because you couldn’t go on a hunt when you’re distracted. Dean would never forgive himself if Sam got hurt because of a stupid birthday plan.

He sighed. Today sucked. But the cold winter air had helped cool off his head a little. It still hurt, and he hoped they had something left in the first aid kit for his stomach, but he felt better now. He just hoped he could set some things straight before Dad and Sam left, make sure they are good enough to not start a fight in the first 12 hours, and then he could rest. For an entire week.

He took the turn to go around the block and turn out back at their motel. His mind went to the pie he had bought earlier and almost in a subconscious level he stepped up his pace.

“Where’s Dad?” Dean asked as he entered the motel, making Sam jump on his place.

“Dean!” Surprise left for guilt in his eyes almost instantly and his voice was quiet as he answered. “Out. He said he had to do some arrangements before we leave.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Are you preparing?”

Sam shuffled his feet. “Actually… I’m not sure what I need. I mean I packed clothing and stuff, and my knife and the .45 of course, but Dad didn’t say anything about what we’re hunting… so… I thought maybe you would know.”

Dean smiled. He couldn’t wait for the immunity against this puppy looks of his brother that would come with time. Hopefully.

“You don’t have to put more weapons in your bag, we put them in the trunk anyway.”

“But Dad told me to make sure to be properly equipped.”

“Yeah, that means he wants you to think about what you may need. Just make a list and ask if you can check for the things when he’s back so he knows what you’ve prepared.”

“Oh.” Sam scratched his head. “That makes sense.”

Dean laughed. “Of course, it does.” He ruffled Sam’s head, finally making the pouty lips wrinkle upwards.

“Stop it, Dean!”

“Or what, short stuff?” Dean laughed at Sam’s attempt to straighten his hair back in order.

“I’m not gonna stay short for ever.”

“But you’ll always be smaller than big brother,” Dean countered, making his way to the groceries. “Did you already eat, Sammy?”

“We’ll see about that,” Sam threw in. “Maybe I’ll be even bigger than Dad.”

“Pfft… Dream on, squirt.”

Suddenly Sam’s face fell again. “Dean…”

Dean ignored it. “Did you already eat something?”

“Yeah, I did. Dean, listen -”

He took the pie out of the bag. “Good. You wanna join me on the pie? I might even give you a whole quarter.”

“Dean, listen,” Sam persisted. “About the movie-”

“It’s okay, Sam. There’s always spontaneous stuff like this.”

Sam groaned in annoyance. “Why won’t you let me speak?”

Dean took two plates and carried them to the table. “Why do you have to turn everything to a chick-flick moment?”

Sam stumped over with, emphasizing every step, and yanked the pie out of Dean’s hands. “I’m serious, Dean.”

Dean knew Sam was trying to make him look at him, to listen, but ripping pie out of his hands was obviously a mistake.

“Sam,” he growled, “give me my pie, now.”

“Listen to me!”

“My pie!”

“Fine,” Sam shouted, and slammed the pie on the table. “Here’s your stupid pie. But you’re not getting any before you don’t let me finish.”

Dean took his eyes off the delicious and vulnerable sanctuary on the table with difficulties. “Fine. Talk.”

Sam took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about the movie. I really am.”

“It’s okay, Sam.”

Sam shook his head. “No, it’s not. You always make sure I have a nice birthday, but yours is somehow ruined every time. I really tried this time -”

“I know you did, Sammy. I’m not mad at you.”

It was like Sam didn’t hear him, already pouting in almost defiance again. “It was going to be so good, but Dad ruined it. He-”

Dean intervened before Sam could start his full-on rant. “Stop it, Sam. Don’t make this about Dad, too.”

Sam looked up, and there was hurt in his eyes. “What?”

Dean took a deep breath. “Look, I’m not blaming you. But I’m not blaming him, either. It’s just the way it is.”

Sam opened his mouth, but Dean continued. “You feel bad, and you want to apologize, I get it. You don’t have to, but I accept it. But don’t start blaming Dad, because he is just as blameless as you.”

Dean knew the last sentence didn’t fit well with Sam, but that was just the way things were. Dad and Sam were practically the same, and if there had to be a pulse damper between the two metal plates to keep them together and away from damage, he would do it.

“Now, do you want pie or not?”

[the-firebird69]

And there are several things wrong with this happening but we're going to have to straighten it out at home it's like eight is enough the movie going on all the time and that's also ironic wait a minute I have to do the same thing London has to go or it will be destroyed so it's either macro stores order or the city is gone and people afterwards underneath it's not a nightmare no it's a nightmare that thing is caused a problem it's out of here momentarily he says put it over there so now we're starting to hear something and we're in negotiations

Who says no if we move it we can't have the technology exposed it says I'll move it you say it'll take you forever it says you should have announced it I'll say the kid probably figured out you know someone told him someone's figuring it out comes out way more I don't know where so we figured this out you better come up with something so we're going to meet real quick we already did they said they should put it over there so I'm going to leave it with Thor and Olympus and I have to I'll see if we absolutely have to we'll put it on Earth somewhere but if we don't have to it's going on Titan and I mean they have to force it

Zues Hera

Thor Freya

I've already decided not to use too much energy and we also hear you will put it out there as the last of Atlantis or something of that nature so I'm going to go ahead and move it up there when we have to

Mac daddy

They're actually sat down and met real quick with Olympus and said we're going to have to move it they want to move it here so I'm going to break it up someone all the buildings out of it and they're going to have to meet real quick cuz it's going to go up in flames if they don't so they sat down at real quick so we don't want it in flames and we don't want to take it so we're going to have to try and take it out of there so they're trying to do it and it's just a nightmare everyone's at them it's like world war z so we can't get in there we said you going to have to get out of the way so they agreed and we know where to put it and we agreed to put it somewhere and that's what we're going to do

And yes it's on Earth I know it's not on top of a Jabberwocky is Zues said

Thor Freya

But will I have plumbing

Qe

Yes and there won't be any settling it's a system but we have to use yours so there might be some settling and we're doing it now and we're helping to maintain order it's a nightmare that so many people so we have to use barricades and might drop some walls in... Walls might make it instantly worse and it would become a war there so they're opting out of that I'm going to move fast it's too slow to put their system in so we have to meet again

Thor Freya

I say cut up in pieces and moving that way he has the idea and just put on a better concrete and move it they're way a ton they don't have anything they can move at

Hera

Did you see the idea but you're right it waste too much and it would be despicable hard to move

Mac

It's so bad right now we have to move forces in and we are tons of them and we're fighting to keep people out we're going to have to make rings around it we have to start doing it now so we have to move the city and we have to be able to get it ready but he says is if we don't put walls up it's going to get increasingly worse rapidly but if we put walls up it'll get worse right away and I agree with him even a series of walls will create huge problems so we're going to have to have no walls and rings and fighting all the time and we can do that without too much worry and we're doing that now I'm going to have to push rings out what we say to them is well can't have you in a ring and you can prevent us from moving it off planet but it has to be moved so agreeing to a spot on planet because he doesn't want to go up there and it's true he can force it so we're going to have to go ahead and move it on to Earth because it's already a nightmare and also DC and it's there's a lot of land in Virginia so it's not that tough London is pretty big but there's a ton of land just outside it but it has to move far away about 30 miles from the center because it's gigantic there's other objects so we have to pick one to go above to make it hot enough and here we go and then the second kind of like this okay

Thor Freya

What amazing day I thought I'd never see something like this it's so hot that we have to sit down and negotiate where to put the damn City any plan to put it up there and now we can't it says he mentioned it and these hopes it's not him and Thor says no because they're going to rain around it and they mean it and we talked about it and we know so going to go ahead and tell him to stop being fresh or might get hurt another things he says he can't help it and see idiots so we sat down and negotiate a spot it's still going to be a tug of war to see if it's real it's not real it goes off planet if it is it goes there same with DC today rather quickly actually moving in now Giants and other things and we're keeping people out because they want to expose what's below the max do

Thor Freya

We do anyways and it was going to be a fight but this is ridiculous you're a bunch of strange homos running around with those damn hats on almost every single one of you he's got you doing it because he can't stand you and he's showing how stupid you are and impressionable and how dangerous it is to say things it's very dangerous to say stuff to you no matter what it is you always misinterpret it you're in stores you miss interpret what you hear can't be near you without you getting paranoid it's impossible

Mac daddy

No strengthening in here I hear I'm talking it's all over so I got to get out of here it's a nut house it's designed to do that tons of places are now and he's right him and John C Riley have a great partnership going and we want to help it and he says we got to buy the bike and you guys got a manufacturing you can have two manufacturers of the same thing that's happened before and it doesn't really last a long time but it happens and I don't care that much because we'll probably chase down hard knock no matter what but it's got to be done something has to be done and everybody likes bikes everybody likes this particular one cuz John C Riley and I he says designed in things that get around things you're not really legal incarceration without a trial or without even a judge's order or suspicion and it's gone completely Blasio and the only thing that saved it was 9/11 so their mental health people don't like George and they don't like me much but we can't stand them they say and so I'm going to go ahead and get myself a whole bunch of those 5150 I'm going to try and build them I'm going to call John C Riley and ask him for a license we're asking if he needs a factory what he says of no and when I say is you need one and you need it now and he says if your father is in charge of your factory and you keep him in charge whether you leave or not that's fine with me but I'm not going to have all this horsing dick s*** going on because this is a business and if we're going to get pushed out I don't want to be you that causes it because you have an excuse to start it so Trump is going to be in charge and we're in charge of that I'm going to have many of these with different people actually Biden is willing to he says so we're going to go ahead and do it because he doesn't care if he makes it or we make it or China makes it so matter of fact way of starting to open them now so I'm sending him license and the agreement so I'm sending you one you better be good at and try just remember one thing don't cut the whole thing off to save your arm and you need to save your whole body and I say wow that sounds like Randall tex Cobb and he smiles

Dan

We rock this is great I'm going to ask MaC to do it because we're kind of small we're having a lot of hard times

Randall tex cobb

I shall I'm going to open it today I'm going to open it right next to the triumph motorcycle plant they said no don't take triumph down I'll be weird first off it's a decent bike and secondly it's a decent band so we're all laughing cuz it probably is the same people but we don't think so. It's got a lot of people involved this 5150 thing and there's tons of sales I'm going to put out our brand and he says not as each one it says it's much better as Randall text Cobb and you can put what factory and Randall text comp says yes because if you put with factory they know who You Are and it's really the thing that is Randall's and his idea in concept because we live near that big huge state facility and he despised it and he did it for a reason and it was right and I didn't like it later on and find out he was right and I was wrong about my initial impression then we met Paul hesterberg his brother was in prison and it turned out to be my Uncle Brian it was abused beyond belief by these people and some acts know all about it and we're doing it and can't stand it and Mangler himself got mangled by it so we're going to start this movement

Mac daddy

You see that's great right now but I'm going to City to move so we're working and we see that it's happening all of the world at all the capitals and your son is a little miffed but he's the one who told people actually I think it was his wife

Thor Freya

Olympus

[randomobsessionsofa30something]

The korean dramas I’m watching. Plus the World Cup issue.

I think I had the same problem last year around this time. There’s just too many entertaining dramas and I’m having a really hard time keeping up. I’ve started watching ten of the dramas currently airing. They’re too many for sure (I usually only watch three or four). I know that and of course I don’t have enough time to watch all of them  plus even if I could manage and even if I’m really obsessed with dramas that’s not all I do with my time so I’ve definitely left a few on hold to watch as a marathon on weekends.

In past posts I shared my thoughts on Rich Man, Suits and Wok of love. On top of that I’ve started watching The Undatables, Sketch, What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim, About time, Investigation Couple, Miss Hammurabi  and Lawless Lawyers. To be perfectly honest none of the dramas I’m watching are particularly good but they’re all really fun to watch. Since I already talked about the first three I’m only gonna talk about the rest.

What’s wrong with secretary Kim is a rom-com based on a webtoon that makes me remember the 2002 movie Two weeks notice. Similarly to the movie, this drama starts when Park Seo Joon’s character is notified by his secretary (Park Min Young) that she will be leaving the company. He decides that is unacceptable and he will do what ever it takes to stop it from happening. Honestly this is just my kind of drama. Yes it is clichéd but it’s witty and well done. Even if it’s only on it’s first week it is already my favorite drama right now.

About time. This drama is another rom-com with a sci-fi spin to it. I had high hopes for this in the first week but somehow the course that they’re taking is not what I was hoping for. Having said that it’s funny and sometimes heartwarming. Loving Lee Sang Yoon and Lee Sung Kyung together. The story is about a girl that sees the time people have left to live including her own. Problem is she only has a few months to live but when she finds a guy that happens to stop her clock she decides she needs to get close to him so she can stay alive a bit longer.

Lawless lawyers. I’m a huge Jun Ki fan so I was gonna watch this drama for sure but it turned out to be a pretty interesting one. It’s a legal thriller drama with a splash of romance. A boy watches her mother’s muder and when he grows up he comes back to his home town to make sure the people responsable end up in jail.

Miss Hammurabi. The last time I watched Go Ara and Infinite’s L I kind of hated their dramas so I really wanted to love this drama and I do...at times. First of all I love Myungsoo’s (L) character. I think he’s sweet but Go Ara’s character just makes me think she has been doing the same character for her last two dramas. It’s another drama about judges and even though it touches interesting subjects and tries to portray different views I still think it ends up more often than not being cheesy. I actually get upset in almost every episode but at the same time I’m really looking forward to watch the rest of it.

Sketch. It’s another sci-fi action drama about a girl that dreams about murders and tries to prevent them from happening. This JTBC drama marks the comeback of Rain to dramaland. I’ve only watched 3 episodes of this one but so far it’s interesting although sometimes the decision making of the character drives me mad.

The undateables. Nam Goong Min and Hwang Jung Eum star this rom-com about a former athlethe turned match maker and a museum director that put their brains together to make sure a list of undateables end up with a partner. In the process they’ll get to know each other and most probably end up falling for each other. Choi Tae Joon also appears on this one. If I had never watched She was pretty and Lucky Romance, I would’ve been raving about how funny this drama is but because I have seen those I can’t help thinking how Hwang Jung Eum is playing the same kind of character again and even when the character is different it ends up feeling like you’ve already watch something like this before.

Investigation couple. This legal foresic drama reminds me of several american tv series about the relationship between prosecutors and the forensic unit with a korean spin of course. A new eager prosecutor with good intentions has to handle an excentric but genius forensic doctor.

The World Cup issue.

So unless you are living under a rock you probably know the football (soccer) world cup starts next week. That’s a great thing for football fans around the globe but it’s totally making me panic. On one hand since I’m watching so many dramas I’m really gonna hate it if the broadcasting stations stops airing dramas because there’s a game or a football related program. For example last week It’s dangerous beyond the covers (the variety show) announced it would come back in a month. If they do that with a drama I’m gonna lose it.

On the other hand I really don’t know how I’m going to manage to watch this many dramas and watch the world cup. I really don’t want to give up either. Four years ago I was only watching a few dramas a year so it was no big deal but now that I’m so into them it’s different. I think this month will be full of making tough choices.

[imaginetonyandbucky]

Tony has tattoos and scars that litter his body but keeps them hidden most of the time. When Bucky first moved in he noticed that Tony always wears long sleeves, but then again this is the winter months. But as a year goes by and Bucky himself starts showing more skin he gets overly curious about what Tony might be hiding under his clothes. So when they start dating he's overly shocked and a little turned on by what he sees. ((Sorry it's so long, your stuff is great and I wish you luck!))

I swear, I wanted to write something funny and I COULDN’T. So this happened. I hope you’ll still like it!

Show Me Your Secrets

At first, Bucky didn’t notice Tony’s near obsession with long sleeves, pants and socks.

Of course, when Steve and Natasha finally catch him, it’s the middle of the winter, and winter in New York is awfully cold. So when he moves in the Tower after a few weeks in a psychiatric unit, he’s not surprised to be greeted by a Tony fully clothed in a thick, comfortable-looking sweatshirt, well-worn sweatpants, and fuzzy socks. It’s so far from the man in well-tailored suits Bucky had seen in the news that he can’t help but grin at him, earning himself a wink.

What’s more, at first, it actually helps Bucky feel less alone.

Of course, the Tower is heated, and each of them has the possibility to choose their preferred settings in their own quarters, but between the physical impact of the exhausting sessions with his psychologist, and the general uneasiness about the arm, Bucky likes to cover himself. Plus, he loves everything soft, and feels absolutely no shame in stealing Steve’s most comfortable long-sleeved shirts.

So, seeing Tony during their team nights as warmly clothed as himself helps him not feel as a total outcast.

And when the team gently teases them about it, they just grin and add a blanket to their nice, growing collection.

The thing is, though, as the year goes by and the weather slowly gets warmer, Tony never leaves his warm clothes.

Bucky does. He learns, slowly and with difficulty, that no one will judge him about the arm, not when Clint wears his hearing aids proudly, and when every member of the team has their own scars, some physical, some mental. There are still days where he needs to grab a sweatshirt and bury in a nest of blankets on the couch, but as time passes, these days are far less frequent.

As Bucky settles in his new life, he pays more attention to his surroundings. Specifically, he pays more attention to Tony.

The guy is gorgeous and interesting, no two ways about it.

He has a set of quirks about as long as Bucky’s set of nightmares. He refuses to take something you hand out to him. He spends days working without a break, doesn’t like to sleep, babbles endlessly if you don’t stop him at some point. He never hesitates in touching someone, drawing Bruce in half-hugs, squeezing Steve’s shoulder, rubbing Natasha’s feet if she asks him to. He pretends not to care about anybody but always anticipates any of their needs and probably knows everyone’s favorite food, color and movie. He’s frighteningly smart and amazingly nice.

And he never shows more skin than strictly necessary.

And Bucky doesn’t get it.

(Watch out for the break!)

“Did you notice, too?” he finally caves in, asking Steve out of nowhere.

“Notice what, Buck? You’ll need to give me a bit more details.”

“Stark.”

“Tony is actually pretty hard to not notice, you know.”

“No, it’s not… I… Ugh. Did you ever notice he always wears long sleeves? Even under this armor of him. I don’t think I ever saw him rolling up his sleeves, or wearing a t-shirt, or without socks on. Isn’t it weird?”

Judging by Steve’s look, it was more Bucky’s noticing it that was weird.

“I guess it’s just something he does,” Steve shrugged. “Maybe he’s so used to suits that he feels underdressed when he wears a t-shirt?”

“Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”

But still, Bucky wonders.

Inevitably enough, they grow closer and closer.

It might be the fact that they understand each other’s trauma so well, and the nights they share together in front of the television, or up there on the roof, when one or the other craves warmth, reassurance and touch.

It might also be the hours spent down there in Tony’s workshop, at first working on the arm, upgrading it and adding some fun gadgets, and then tinkering with some of Tony’s cars when Bucky admits it’s something he enjoyed, before.

Or it might be the dinners spent with the team, Tony gesturing wildly while he talks Star Wars with Bruce, Bucky grinning widely looking at them, Steve’s blue eyes watching him with pride and love.

Whatever it is, it all comes to a close on a sunny day they spend together in the park, eating ice cream and basically enjoying life. Everything is as it always is between them, until Tony turns around and suddenly freezes, dark eyes staring at Bucky, his left hand twitching around his ice cream.

Bucky is actually opening his mouth to ask what’s wrong when Tony surges forward and kisses him, all soft, slow and determinate, and so, so, so Tony that it leaves Bucky breathless and unresponsive for a few seconds. It’s a short time, but long enough for Tony to begin stepping backwards, at least until Bucky wraps an arm around his waist and draws him back in.

They find a tree away from most tourists and spend the afternoon there, kissing, hugging, laughing and talking.

Bucky can’t even remember the last time he’s been so happy.

If they were close before, that was nothing compared to what they are now. They’re pretty much inseparable, and even Clint’s groans and Natasha’s endless teasing can’t get them to care.

They go out on dates, and Bucky discovers new food and flavors in small, intimate restaurants. In return, he looks for Brooklyn’s old places, those he remembers from his childhood, and tells Tony funny and moving anecdotes about his life there with his family and Steve. Unsurprisingly, a lot of anecdotes involve alleyways where he found Steve being beaten and hit.

They make out on the couch and miss great chunks of movies supposedly essential for Bucky’s pop culture; they dance without caring about anything when they talk about their favorite music.

They spend nights together when the dark and the loneliness are too much for them. They talk for hours in bed, cuddling and kissing, sharing jokes and heavier anecdotes.

And still Tony keeps on his multiple layers of clothes.

It lasts for a stupid amount of time. Bucky tries to ask, a couple of times, but Tony is fluent in how to not talk about what he doesn’t want to talk about, and he always manages to distract Bucky one way or another.

It’s frustrating, though. They don’t have sex together, because Tony freezes and steps away as soon as Bucky tries to get his shirt off, and forcing him is the last thing he wants. Technically, he knows he’s probably wrong, but he feels hurt when Tony refuses to talk about it, like he’s not trustworthy or not important enough to have the right to know.

The day the AC breaks in the Tower, then, is a special day.

They all left their shirts behind as soon as they realized what the problem was, and they gulp down glass after glass of cold water. All of them but Tony - who left a few minutes ago to try and get the AC back on - are sitting on the couches, and Bucky is painfully aware of the way his arm and shoulder look like that, the harsh scars displayed with the ugliness of the way the arm’s attached. No one’s looking at it but still, he can’t help hiding it behind the high armrest.

They’re talking when Tony comes back, and the whole room just falls frighteningly silent when they realize that he’s shirtless. The engineer seems to notice it at the same time as the others do, opens his mouth and closes it, before throwing them a panicked glance and fleeing the room. A second later, Bucky’s up and running too, but the elevator’s doors are already closing. He takes the stairs then, running the dozens of steps which lead to Tony’s penthouse, but when he gets there, Tony already threw an old shirt on, and even from a distance, Bucky can see his hands shaking.

‘’Hey. Everything alright?’’ he calls out, softly.

‘’Yeah, I… Yeah. AC’s back online, it should get cooler in a few minutes. What’s up?’’

Bucky takes a few hesitant steps forward, until he’s right next to Tony. From there, he can see the way Tony’s eyes dart around the room, his hands still shaking and twitching. He doesn’t really think about it then, just wraps his arms around Tony and hugs him tight.

‘’It’s alright,’’ he whispers. ‘’They won’t say anything, they won’t hurt you. You’re alright, baby, just breathe.’’

‘’I’m sorry,’’ Tony almost whimpers, muffled against his shoulder. ‘’I’m sorry I didn’t show you.’’

‘’Hey, no. No, it’s your body, you choose what to do with it. I’ll be there when you’re ready.’’

They stay that way for a long time, Bucky humming a soft tune, gently rocking Tony in his arms until he relaxes and finally breathes more easily.

‘’Do you have anything planned this afternoon?’’ the engineer asks almost shyly after a few seconds.

‘’No, nothing. Why?’’

‘’Come on, then, follow me.’’

Eyebrows raised, Bucky follows him to his room, where Tony stops and asks Jarvis to dim the lights. He turns around and looks at Bucky for a second before staring at his feet.

‘’After Afghanistan and Obie,’’ he begins to explain, ‘’I got used to wearing sweatshirts and basically everything that hid the reactor most of the time. I was still fine, I could wear t-shirts or roll up my sleeves or whatever but… Then I became Iron Man, and since I’m not a supersoldier, I have scars everywhere. Everywhere. People stare when they see it. I don't… I’m not really ashamed of it, I guess. It’s just that it’s hard when people look at you and only see the ugly parts. Pepper couldn’t stand it, and after a while I couldn’t either. So, yeah… I wear jackets and sweatpants even when it’s awfully hot. But you…’’

At that, Tony looks up and takes a few steps forwards, reaching out hesitantly to stroke along Bucky’s scars on his shoulder. Bucky shivers under the touch, Tony’s fingers soft and warm against the skin, until they move to the metal arm, down to his hand where their fingers link.

‘’You’re different and I wanted to show you. But it’s hard.’’

‘’I won’t judge. You know that, right?’’

‘’Yeah. I think I do, yes. Come on.’’

He pulls on his hand and Bucky willingly follows him to the bed, where Tony flops down more or less gracefully.

‘’I’ll show you,’’ he simply says, opening his shirt with deft fingers, his eyes closed.

The cloth leaves place to tanned skin, littered with scars, some old and white, some more recent and still red or pink, until Tony gets to the top of the shirt and the scars become one massive piece of raw skin where the reactor used to be.Right next to it, though, is the biggest surprise for Bucky: a beautifully done tattoo, birds flying through red smoke from Tony’s sternum to his left arm. There are a few names, too.

‘’The soldiers who were with me in Afghanistan,’’ Tony explains as he feels Bucky’s fingers tracing them, and his voice is shaky and pained. ‘’The biggest one, Yinsen, was the one who saved my life.’’

Bucky can’t help himself; fingers never leaving Tony’s skin, he sits up and kisses him, softly but with passion.

‘’You,’’ he says when he gets back to his exploration of his boyfriend’s body, slowly taking his shirt off, ‘’are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.’’

This night, they share scars and stories, and Tony shows some more tattoos. Some are about the worse moments of his life and are a way to get rid of some of the pain; one’s for Rhodey, one for Pepper. There’s a small Captain America’s shield on his ankle, way down where nobody can see it, and Tony turns bright red when he explains that it was his first one when he was little more than a kid.

They laugh and they cry and they kiss.

And after that, they learn to map each other’s body, they learn each other’s most sensitive parts, and they learn what kind of sounds the other makes when he’s lost deep in pleasure.

And Bucky promises himself to get in touch with a tattoo artist, sooner rather than later.

After all, those have always been a turn on for him.

[firestorm26621]

Top 10 of 2018

Disclaimer: The following are not what I think are the “best” movies of the year, at least not in the objective sense of the word. I’m not even entirely sure how one can judge “best” in an objective manner, or by what criteria that could be measured.  Competence in composition and construction, acting, design, music; these are all only parts of what makes a film connect with an audience, and some truly great films have few of these in any great quantities, while there are a good number of movies that are practically perfect films by these gauges which had very little impact on me personally.

So, setting all that aside, what follows are my top 10 films of 2018 only in the sense that they are films I personally enjoyed the most; be that by conjuring the biggest emotional reaction, making the biggest intellectual impact, or simply inspiring the greatest sense of wonderment and appreciative awe in me.  These sorts of things are not easily measurable and certainly aren’t objective, but I know what I like, and it’s these.

#10 – Free Solo

This one was a late and odd addition for me, being the most recently watched on this list (having seen it in January).  Documentaries, by and large, are always interesting to me, but I rarely walk away thinking they are great movies, as they usually have fascinating subjects but little in the way of actual narrative.  Won’t You Be My Neighbor, another great doc, is an example of this, as it is a fantastic look at a subject, but has very little narrative through-line.  

Free Solo, while it starts this way as a film that investigates a free solo climber (being a style of mountain climbing done without any ropes, and which often kills its practitioners), begins to focus in as it centers itself around one specific potential climb, a massive vertical mountainside in Yosemite that has a very high likelihood of killing him in the attempt.  

So, the film suddenly gains a very solid narrative, and begins exploring the questions surrounding it.  Is his new girlfriend really comfortable with his death-defying lifestyle?  Is the camera crew complicit is something morally questionable by filming this dangerous scenario?  Is this guy really ok, mentally speaking?  All of these come to a head in a breathtakingly beautiful yet terribly suspenseful climbing sequence that had me genuinely worried for a human life.

#9 – Isle of Dogs

I’ve always been fairly hit or miss on Wes Anderson, with much of his previous work heavy on deadpan twee sensibilities and light on actual deeper meaning.  Which is partially why 2014′s Grand Budapest Hotel knocked my socks off so hard; it had his pastel sense of style, but it was used to tell a story that hooked me with themes that spoke to me, and it was incredibly narratively satisfying.  

And while Isle of Dogs doesn’t quite hit those heights, it definitely feels like Wes Anderson is moving as a filmmaker into a place I can really dig into, where he engages the broader world and tackles heavier themes, like tribalism and alienation in this film.  Yes, the film is funny, with all its voice actors giving hilarious deadpan line deliveries, and yes, the animation is both stunning and impressive, with the film somehow looking both intentionally rough around the edges and meticulously crafted at the same time.

But beyond how impressive the look and how charming the style, it’s the story that really lands it here.  It uses these tools to tell a clever, touching, almost sci-fi story about our connections and the strength of relationships and full of what I read as strong allegories to our current political climate.  It manages to be both cute and deep, and connected with me on both of those levels.  

#8 – Searching

Yet another surprise, as I was expecting nothing out of this gimmicky looks thriller about a man whose daughter goes missing and his investigation to find her, all told through the screen of the computer he uses to do so.  This isn’t a new gimmick, with a handful of bad horror movies using it previously, but Searching is by a huge margin the best film to use it yet.  It starts with an immediately impacting, tragic montage, charting the evolution of a family as it progresses through a tragedy, all told through emails, computer calendars, YouTube clips, and various other computer programs.  As it progresses, it continues to use its premise to great effect; we see text messages begin to be typed, then deleted, then retyped.  It essentially uses these as character building tools, showing us as much about these characters as their actual words and action.

And then the mystery starts.  The film becomes something of a techno-thriller detective story, with John Cho giving a fantastically evolving performance (especially considering most of the performances involve primarily staring into various webcams).  The film presents the investigation with plenty of twists and turns as Cho’s character comes to learn more and more of his daughter's life, and as it does so, it builds to some surprisingly powerful emotional beats surrounding how this family has dealt with tragedy.  And sure, it may cheat a bit in its final moments, expanding its scope a bit beyond what could reasonably be found on a computer screen, but by then you’re fully bought in anyway, fully engrossed in a story that delivers far more than what was expected.

#7 – Mission: Impossible - Fallout

I love this series.  While the first two films waffled on what kind of films they wanted to be, starting with the third entry and onward they locked in; they were to be bombastic spy thrillers with action set pieces centered around Tom Cruise’ specific brand of almost manically enthusiastic daredevil stunt work.  And here, at the sixth entry, that focus has continued to be honed and adjusted.  Fallout is an entry that is defined by its set pieces; a “how did they shoot that?” one-take jump out of an airplane, a “ why did Cruise do that?” climb up a rope to a flying helicopter, a stunningly choreographed bathroom fight scene, and my personal favorite, a motorcycle chase through Paris that makes it very clear Cruise himself is putting his life on the line for these shots.

What’s crazy to me is that this isn’t even my favorite in the series; 2015′s Rogue Nation has a better story and Rebecca Ferguson’s Ilsa Faust has a far better supporting role in that one than any here (and weirdly enough, Nation was only an honorable mention in 2015, but that’s because it was a much stronger year for movies I loved).  Yet, while Fallout may not tell a better story, it is likely more memorable, as it presents a non-stop cavalcade of incredible action sequences and stunt work that are as thrilling as they are visually impressive.

#6 – Creed II

I had extremely high hopes for this one.  Creed was one of my favorite movies of 2015 (a strange commonality between this and Mission Impossible above), and was personally my favorite in the Rocky franchise (though whether the Rockys and the Creeds are the same franchise could be debated).  My excitement was tempered upon learning that Ryan Coogler wouldn’t be returning to the directors chair, and to be fair, some of that absence is evident, mostly in the boxing sequences that don’t have quite the same technical proficiency shown in the first film.  But beyond that minor quibble, this film is a more than worthy successor to the first.  

It has the same thematic depth; it has evolved its focus from choosing a family and letting that affect your personal identity to a focus on dedicating yourself to that family and the conflict between it and personal ambition or desire.   It has the same inspirational intensity; featuring a fight that inspires fear in Rocky and a prideful vengeance in Creed, before in the classic format of these films, the characters have to rebuild themselves to rise up.  And it has the same chemistry; all three leads are still fantastic, with more focus this time being given to Adonis and Bianca as they navigate building their own family alongside the inherently dangerous nature of Adonis’s profession.   All this ties together into a fantastic follow-up that builds upon the first film and continues this wonderfully dramatic saga.  

#5 – Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse

This was by far my biggest surprise of the year.  I expected nothing of this film, in fact, due to a clip of the film being shown as a stinger on Venom, I was fairly certain the movie wasn’t going to be very good.  It looked to be a slapstick cartoon comedy of a superhero film, and I wasn’t terribly excited for it.  Happily, however, I was very wrong.  So wrong, in fact, that I believe I can comfortably say this is my favorite Spider-Man film.  The film is stylish in a way few animated features have managed; the animation alone is impressive with its blend of modern cg and traditional hand drawn comic book accents, but it’s also got a soundtrack that is wholly rocking and tuned in to the story and character they are backing up.

The film is also hilarious; not only does the mentor/student relationship between Miles & Peter feature charming odd couple banter, the additions of the other spider-people make up a “motley crew” comedy style helped along by some excellent voice work (and special marks for the spot-on casting of Nic Cage as a noir-detective and John Mulaney as a talking pig).  Most shocking to me, however, was just how powerful the story was when it got into gear; the unusual animation style ends up working in tandem with the themes and narratives arcs the story is telling, and while yes, this is in fact another superhero origin story, Miles Morales coming into his own turned out to be one of the best coming of age stories I’ve seen in a long time.

#4 – A Quiet Place

I do love a good monster movie. Not only for the creativity in design choices and aesthetic that can be brought to make some fascinating creatures, but also in the themes, as in almost all the best monster flicks, the monster themselves are stand-ins for some other idea, something that scares us in a more abstract way.  In this case, that theme is very solidly established in the first few minutes: parenthood, and more specifically, the fear and stress of a parent trying to keep their child safe in a very dangerous world.

The first step in exploring this theme is a really solid chunk of world building; presenting a decidedly post-apocalyptic landscape where few humans remain, and those who do must live in silence to avoid detection by the otherwise blind creatures that destroyed the world.  To stack the deck even further, the film presents additional complications; a pregnant wife unclear how she’s going to give birth to a screaming baby without bringing danger, a deaf daughter who cannot hear when the creatures are about, and a father so focused on protecting his family that he shuts them out emotionally.

All this is built up over the first half of the film, and then starts a climax that last almost the full last half as the family has to face all these issues at once.  It’s fantastically tense, riveting horror even it’s rarely outright scary, and firmly establishes itself as one of the more inventive, well told monster stories out there.

#3 – Avengers: Infinity War

It’s difficult to gauge exactly why I love this movie.  Is it sheer comic-book fanboy glee that a story as iconic and beloved as Infinity War was actually adapted for the big screen?  Is it the appreciation of the massive feat that this film represents, bringing together over 20 superheroes from across 18 films together into one story?  Is it the fun of seeing all these superheroes actually interact with each other? Or hell, is it just a really entertaining summer blockbuster?  The answer is obviously some combination of all of these, but I’m still months later having some trouble actually processing it all.

To be clear, it is a great superhero movie; despite one odd sequence aboard a space station with an odd performance choice from Peter Dinklage, the rest of the film is a propulsive journey that cleverly combines and separates its many heroes on to various paths that still interact and matter to each other narratively.  It features action sequence to match, filled with more jaw dropping moments and impressive fight scenes than I can easily count.  

The biggest question I still have is whether this a great movie on its own, taken out of the context of the 18 films that came before it.  And while I don’t think it would be as enjoyable outside of that context, and I’m not even sure it could exist without it, I do still think the answer is yes, and that mostly comes down to its villain.  Thanos is, on his own, a great character, and so much of the movie revolves around his ideology, his plan, and his motivations that it can be and has been argued that Infinity War is actually his movie, thematically speaking.  He is the character with the most traditional arc, down to an ending that shockingly belongs to him as well.  And  while the full story may not yet be concluded, it will be tough to top this achievement of a superhero movie.

#2 – Bad Times at the El Royale

This is definitely a personal pick that I doubt will end up on anyone else’s top 10 this year, but I really did love this movie.  Landing somewhere between Hitchcock and Tarantino, it’s a fantastic thriller that consistently surprises throughout.  To start with, it has a fantastic cast, and they are all absolutely bringing their A-game.  It features Jeff Bridges as a priest suffering from memory issues, Jon Hamm as a sleazy fast-talking salesman, Dakota Johnson as a catty and standoffish hippy, Chris Hemsworth as a maniacal cult leader, and standout newcomer (to me at least) Cynthia Erivo as a subdued but ambitious soul singer.  All of these are rich, deep characters, helped along by dialogue that is witty and engrossing, sounding very Tarantino-esque. And that dialogue often plays around with the fact that all of these characters, across the board, have secrets.

Which brings us to the story, which is where the Hitchcock comparison comes in.  The story at first appears to be a bottle movie, taking place almost entirely within the titular hotel The El Royale.  However, at some point the story begins to shift, both showing us backstories in flashbacks and shifting whose point of view we see the events of the story from.  It leads to a twisty plot that keeps us on edge throughout, sometimes unsure of just where it’s going, but it always pays out for the attention and patience it requires.  And it’s all backed up by an amazing period perfect soundtrack full of soul music that really helps accentuate the narrative.

It all adds up to one of my favorite mystery thrillers in a long, long time.  It’s a genre that is done very often, and more often than not quite badly, so seeing one that is not only an engrossing mystery but relentlessly entertaining counts for a whole lot, to the point where it was almost my favorite movie of the year.

#1 – Annihilation

I am a sucker for a good hard science fiction movie, and it’s a genre that has had an amazing few years.  Ex Machina, Arrival, and Blade Runner 2049 have been some amazing entries, and Annihilation is now another.  These films are great because they are not only about deep, intellectual topics, they explore them in intriguing ways that are equally deep; they are movies that are best served by revisiting multiple times and by discussing them and reading about them afterward, worthy of further reflection and study.  That said, to be a great movie, it also has to be entertaining, and all of these do that in spades as well.

Narratively, Annihilation is about a mysterious dome of energy that is causing odd biological phenomena, and the squad of ladies who go in to investigate it, despite the fact that no one else who has gone in has every come out, including our main characters husband.  Thematically, however, it’s about self destruction, of the natural and biological variety as well as that within the human condition, and its cyclical relationship with creation.  The film constantly presents imagery of rampant creation, including plants and animals blending, a landscape that bleeds into time and the thoughts and memories of those in it, and the most terrifying creature of the year in the rotting bear monster that seems to absorb the last moments of those it kills.  It contrasts against that backdrop its characters, who are all in some way, both voluntarily and involuntarily, self-destructing, and asks what the reactions to each might be.

And while I have a distinct interpretation of what its ultimate message is, I have read and watched many other interpretations that are just as valid and just as interesting.  It’s the kind of film that is far more than its face value, whose intellectual nooks can be found the more you think about it, and I have found myself thinking about it quite a bit since seeing it for the first time.  And for that, I am very grateful, not only for it expanding my conceptions, but for being a touchstone of a philosophical topic I never would have given much thought to.  And for all that, it is my favorite movie of the year.

Runners-Up:

Eighth Grade - A nice sister piece to Boyhood, it’s a more focused, comedic, and stylized counterpart that brilliantly gets inside the head of a girl in a near constant struggle with navigating her emotional state, her social skills, and her world shifting under her.

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs - An anthology film that breaks the western down into component pieces to tell masterfully constructed, beautiful, brutal, tragic, and often bizarre tales that bring as much melancholy as delight.

Won't You Be My Neighbor? - A heartfelt, impacting, poignant, powerful look at the life long mission of Fred Rogers to spread love and acceptance, and the obstacles and internal motivations that drove it.

[mraoulee]

M. Raoulee Reviews Ghost In The Shell So You Don’t Have To Suffer

I realize what day it is and that this is a hell of a time to post my first review, especially of something people are bound to have strong opinions about.  I’d like to take a moment to blame the heap of studios who dumped money into this for the timing and state that this review is in fact, 100% serious.  It contains spoilers.  

Short Version

I bought a cup of wine before I went in.  The clerk told me to enjoy the wine; didn’t mention the movie.

I took two sips out of it before the film started, resolving to save the rest for when things got unbearable.  It was gone within two minutes.

I have no idea why anyone would remake Overdrawn At The Memory Bank and have Scarlett Johansson playing Aram as well as suddenly on an elite anti-terrorism force.  In fact, I have no idea why anyone would remake Overdrawn At The Memory Bank at all.

The only reason this isn’t my new most hated movie is that I haven’t seen the possible previous one in a while and I think I should rewatch it before I make that determination.

Long Version

I’m reviewing this as a fan of most of the originals. You want a review from a neutral party, you won’t find it here.  Ghost In The Shell was my childhood.  

Additionally, I am going to speak to the racism, but please do seek out and read thoughts on the subject by people of color.  Their anger needs an audience because holy shit.  Just… holy shit.  I’ll be editing in links and highlighting their posts on the subject.  If the original ran without them, I just wanted to get my anger out before it consumed me and I apologize for jumping the gun.

There are a few miniscule bright spots in this train wreck.  Say, five cool shots.  One of them’s of the Major storming off in a pout and turning her camo on at the same time, there’s another neat panning shot in the one apartment.  Ultimately, the few well-filmed shots take place in scenes that are wrong for other reasons, so we’ll come back to them.  I think the practical effects, what few there are, rock, but it’s hard to tell given the cinematographer’s dedication to not showing them.  

Some of the PoC bit parts slay.  Hats off to Chin Han and his amazing Togusa.  I’m so disappointed I didn’t get to see more than a minute of him even though his presence and plotline in the originals speaks more to the point the writer may have been aiming for in this film.  Way to not use your resources, writer.  Other wasted PoC actors include Danusia Samal, Lasarus Ratuere, Chris Obi, Kaori Momoi-- stuck with one of the characters that ruins the movie but still makes her endearing af --and Adwoa Aboah whose appearance I sincerely hope gets uploaded to Youtube so everyone can see her almost salvage the Major as a character strictly by virtue of her personal awesome.  

The main cast is bad.  Just bad.  

At first, I was pretty jazzed with the guy playing Batou because he looks, he even walks the part.  Then he had to go and open his mouth.  What ditch did they find that dude in and why did they not return him to that ditch with prejudice given some of that line delivery? I mean, I can see Batou’s understated done-ness posing a challenge, but there was just no excuse for this person snorting through his lines and then going WWE all over the action scenes.  

The guy playing Cutter showed up with ham in his pockets; enough ham that made me wonder why they didn’t just get Christopher Walken if they wanted that much ham on set since he actually knows how to carry his meat products effectively.  I don’t think Cutter was a well-thought-out villain at any point, but seriously, WTF.

Kuze has that much CG interference he can’t sell anything besides an ongoing dopey expression.  Probably not his fault, but still, I think a baby deer would have done better.  Why not just have Kuze manifest as a baby deer? Are baby deer that expensive? [ETA: I have been informed that they are, though I stand by my point.]

Then there’s Dr. Ouélet.  I’m not judging this actress on her job based solely on the fact she’s playing the other character who has no business being in anything billing itself as Ghost In The Shell.  I’m not judging this actress because of her accent.  I’m judging her for playing her part like a six-year-old with a mouth full of gummi worms.  If you, like most sensible people, aren’t into watching six-year-olds with mouths full of gummi worms moralize about technology, oh look, it’s another good reason to avoid this movie.  

The Major.  Oh, the Major.  There are lines in this script, particularly shoved in her mouth, which cannot be delivered well.  And they’re really obvious.  If this actress was going to gank this part it was her fucking duty to speak up about this awful shit and she clearly did not.  The one moment of good chemistry she has with Batou looks and sounds like a goof they left in.  The scene with Adwoa Aboah is good because of Adwoa Aboah.  The rest of her performance is some phoned-in nonsense.  I don’t even know what she was trying to do with the character.

Not that you get to see terribly much of her.  They CG her to hell and back.  And not well-- in general, the CG in this movie looks cheap and rushed outside of taking people’s faces apart for shock value, though that happens with enough frequency all of its impact is lost.  As for the rest of the CG, that’s especially glaring with the wide shots of the city and with the Major.  The Major looks like a character from TES: Oblivion with the actress’s head plunked on top and also a bad wig.  90% of the time, that bad wig is crooked.  The CG model for her body has different measurements than her actual body.  No effort was made to make her appear any taller, meaning that a few shot recreations and shots in general go sideways because the Major is suddenly too short.  In fact, I’m pretty sure they look bad period because her height throws things off on a regular basis.  And just-- nobody thought to bring a box.  

This movie cost millions and millions of dollars.  It went to theaters with problems that could have been solved by boxes.  Let that sink in.

Anyone who tried to redeem this film by saying it looks good has clearly never seen a movie that wasn’t shot on shitteo before.  It doesn’t.  The sloppy CG is only part of the problem, although let me mention how glaring it is to go from wide shots of a pristine, CG skeleton of a city to street shots which attempt to be as crowded and dirty as possible.  Again, I think there are some good practical effects down here, but the cinematographer.  Oh, the cinematographer.

Please, anyone who knows this asshole, take his camera away.  I’m begging you.  He fails utterly to grasp scale.  As in, I’m not sure he realized there was a problem with the Major’s height.  He doesn’t understand movement or focus.  I have no idea how he’s been getting work since the 70’s.  The fiveish good shots I counted appear to have been accidents or laziness.  Say, the panning shot in the doctor’s apartment was probably the easiest way to shoot the scene, but it works well because it gradually reduces a conversation to the two participants and makes it personal.  Or it would.  If the conversation itself didn’t suck.

Here’s the thing: he had previous iterations of a lot of the shots to work from.  He still fucked them up.  Every single shot he lifts, he blows.  It’s not even a case of things not being replicable with live actors.  It’s this man needs to have a different job.  There’s bullet time all up in a recreation of the fight in the wash.  He puts the disappearing off of a roof shot in the middle of the day and at an incomprehensible angle.  The lighting and colors are frequently just fucked up.  Did I mention the chintzy CG jellyfish all up in the dive scene… which he then doubly fucks over in the second half by cutting sloppily around the Major and Batou, not that it’s possible to cut well around Batou’s actor completely missing the point of the scene and the Major somehow managing to take off her wetsuit in a stilted fashion.  He can’t even be assed to show us the garbage man’s death.

Did I mention they kill the garbage man?

I nope out of movies for killing dogs, but I would rather the writer had killed the dog here than the garbage man.  The whole point of the garbage man was supposed to be his perfect cinnamon roll innocence in the face of vast, complex machinations far beyond his comprehension.  You would never know that from this film and it’s decision to have him be a rat bastard.  You would never know, because the writer decided to use physical elements from Ghost In The Shell rather than actually retell any form of it.  

The plot here is some cheap, moralizing leftovers.  Saying it’s supposed to be Ghost In The Shell is just offensive.  Audience, they don’t even explain how Ghost works as in-universe jargon.

There are jackasses *cough*bennett*cough* who make the argument that the plot of the original Ghost In The Shell film is sub par.  I’m pretty sure the writer here watched one of their reviews, agreed, and never bothered with any of the originals outside of vague summaries, deciding in the end to produce something which does indeed have more in common with Overdrawn At The Memory Bank than Ghost In The Shell.

I would argue that the plot of the original film is a utilitarian creature.  It exists so that the Major and the Puppet Master can talk and the audience gets the results of that, IE the resulting entity sitting on Batou’s couch in the child’s shell, as a going away present to think about.

In other words, the original Ghost In The Shell has approximately the same plot as a romance movie.

In other-other words, it’s actually really hard to fuck that up.

You see why I don’t think the author made any attempt to retell the first movie.  I don’t even think this is a combination of the two movies and the TV series as has been claimed.  The second movie’s a hot mess and can’t exist without the first one, and you can’t cram the TV series, either season, into a movie.  Hell, the sequel film didn’t even quite fit.

The plot of this film is just the same corporate greed, technology is bad tripe that’s been getting shoved at the audience since the fucking 70’s.  I imagine the writer flying an Acme jet over the audience and unloading a comically whistling payload of anvils.  The dialogue clunks, nothing new gets put on the table; hell, nothing truly from Ghost In The Shell gets put on the table.  There is no fucking point to the plot of this film, and the plot physically is not Ghost In The Shell, primarily because of the fucking anvils.  Anvils are not gifts to your audience.  You don’t think about anvils.  They’re just there.

Running with the conceit though that this was maybe at some point supposed to be Ghost In The Shell, I have some questions.  A selection: If this main character of yours is supposed to be the Major, what’s up with the pouting and helplessness? Why the fresh hell is Aramaki the only character speaking Japanese and who told you those subtitles were OK? Did anyone explain to you what the point of a Tatchikoma is and that controlling a tank with a mouse is absurd beyond that? Did anyone tell any member of the crew that the Major is actually supposed to have junk-- the lack of junk in the first movie was a censorship issue? Why is the Major the ‘first of her kind’ adapting to her new shell when in the original we got to enjoy her casually strutting around in body that was functionally leased? Why can’t her and Batou actually be friends-- was that so damn hard to write? Was it worth it to you to make Momoi’s character spout that line about Motoko ranting about technology as a child instead of something truly motherly that didn’t sound like a box of hand tools falling over? Why does Motoko need not one, but two other women who drag her through her own plot? Oh, wait.  I know that one.  It’s because you kneecapped her character and also, you’re a complete waste of space.  You got off hammering in all of those lines about consent, didn’t you, you fucking creep?

The only shred of a prop I will give the writer is that they did possibly remember that the Major is queer.

Otherwise, between them, and the director, the audience gets… someone who isn’t Motoko Kusanagi, but who purports to be her and also gets handcuffed to a stripper pole at one point.

My father howled laughing when I told him.  

You can’t use handcuffs on a cyborg in the Ghost In The Shell universe.  What part of 800 pounds of metal did you not understand? What part of Section 9 exists at least in part because of shit like that did you not understand?

In conclusion, you probably saw that I just gave the Major’s name from the Japanese version.  

It turns out, this Mira Killian is Kusanagi Motoko and there’s memory wiping involved and also she has to go visit her mommy and her obligatory sci-fi cat before she can… not get to ascend or grow as a character because she promised Mommy she’d come home.

I’m saying it’s not that they changed the Major’s ethnicity.  It’s they literally have a white woman playing a Japanese woman.  There is nothing not terrible about that.  

This movie is the perfect example of fractal wrongness.  It fails at everything it tries to do and on every level.  It’s ugly, it’s rapey, it’s racist and it’s not Ghost In The Shell.  Shame on the crew.  

To quote Mina Li: so basically it would have saved them money if they just took the negatives of the original GitS and filmed themselves taking dumps onto it.

Don’t anyone else give this trash a dime.  Go watch the 1995 movie or the TV series.  There’s no need to suffer like I did.  

Other Reviews: Rebecca Sun, Angie Han, Other Suggestions Always Welcome Because This Movie Sucks That Hard.

[anthonybialy]

Choose No Side

Why is this so hard? Ask it about anything. There may not be a more useful all-purpose life question. Specifically in this case, apply the query to wondering about maddening opposition to a president who should be easy to mock. So few get it right because they fear subtleties. Those who don't care for him are as insane as those who care for him too much, and yet this common ground will merely tear them apart further.

Donald Trump's superpower is making others as daft as he is, which I wouldn't precisely call inspirational. A president bringing everyone to his level is one of those wishes the genie laughs about thanks to imprecise wording. Reversing it would waste your second wish as you worry about saying it right.

For those who've received the antidote to Trump's thorough tackiness, looking around to see who's left is like living in a zombie movie. So many have rushed to join the brainless. Avoiding being bitten is as challenging as Shaun of the Dead made it out to be. But it beats offering yourself for dinner to have horde friends. Principles remain the same, which is the nice thing about believing in stuff. You don't need to find CPAC attendees to affirm them.

The fortunes for criticizing the president from his right are apparently forthcoming, as they sure haven't arrived yet. Trump has failed to create promised jobs in the field of loathing him. The only ones thriving at criticism are those flailing the wildest, which makes them perfect cable news panelists.

Those who have lost allies and clicks thanks to not lauding every last thing the president does are told they've only remained stubborn to get rich by those who really get how life works. Accusers are the same ones who see Trump as a musclebound genius with a classy taste for putting his name in gold.

Grifters who laud their dreamboat totally aren't projecting when they claim others believe what they do for the cash. The only money available for criticizing Trump's ample departures from conservatives comes figuratively as a result of preserving opportunities in unencumbered markets, and that effort is presently classified as flailing. On the other hand are people who aren't missed, either. The ones who side with whatever the president hates to prove how little integrity he has really showed him. Trump is so unpleasant that it's important to let him be influential.

This is a supremely logical time for calling anyone who notices what an uncouth liberal Trump is a RINO. Um, it's actually the opposite. I can't believe it needs to be explained, but one person may not speak biblically for a political movement, especially if he makes up what he believes based on polls. Maintaining the ferocious debt rate while kissing Kim Jong-un's bloated tyrannical ass are not conservative values, unless this president simply says whatever is true. More than one person believes that.

The one betraying conservative beliefs has been Trump all along, which shouldn't be a surprising twist. I know he ran on not being just another politician, but that was simply the biggest fib. Lying outright is not actually refreshingly honest.

The only thing better than principles is results. Enjoy a nuclear-free North Korea, built wall, and Obamacare repeal. Yes, Trump's lowered taxes while increasing the number of reasonable Supreme Court justices, which are minimal achievements for a Republican. That's like a quarterback getting credit for remembering to wear a helmet, which would've kept Johnny Manziel in the NFL.

A blind list of paltry achievements and liberal detours would shock to all those who have synched their virility with the president's achievements. Trump's fans would scoff if say, Marco Rubio had the same shady list. But at least we get quite tough talk. Actions may be better, so I'll check that.

Still, I only criticize Trump because I dream of being praised by Vox. The financial rewards of noting the president's not much of a conservative are simply endless. If you know where these cocktail parties are where I supposedly get invited for criticizing the president, please ask them to invite me. They don't charge for booze, I hope.

Judging by individual issue is such a pain. It's easier to be loyal to a person instead of ideas. That lazy habit is especially regrettable for this particular person. Trump is only saved from bad ideas by his desire to chase whatever's popular. His refusal to think things through would be called spontaneous by a real estate agent who's better at selling than he is. But his dedication to spinning the wheel of opinion means his can't be judged wholesale. Reflexively presuming he's always right is as foolish as reflexively presuming he's always wrong. Know anyone on either side like that?

It's sure lonely having principles. But it's better to do what's right than hang out with dolts. The trend of siding with views based on volume feels like when my entire junior high class decided Milli Vanilli rocked while I was listening to The Who. I listened alone, but at least I wasn't embarrassed about the CDs in my collection. Only one of the kids was alright.  It'll be sweet when lip syncing is back out of fashion.