#i would love a change like this so that the franchise can start steering away from its racist past of “white ppl good poc ppl bad” yknow

[ladyrijus]

I'm not sure if the creators realize, but based on its title alone, Tears of the Kingdom has the potential to turn around the entire Legend of Zelda franchise in terms of its storyline.

Let me explain.

I think we can all agree that in most of the games, there is a core narrative of light versus evil that outlines the game. Link and Zelda are the benevolent heroes of the story and Ganondorf / Ganon is the irredeemable villain. Storywriters for the franchise like to use this formula for the franchise because hey, it's worked so many times, and gained lots of reception, so why not?

But just because it has worked doesn't mean it's right or suitable. 

Firstly, given the history of our world, it is problematic that the face of evil for this game series is a dark skinned man from a tribe of women who are based of the caricatures and sexualization of women raised in the MENASA regions (MENASA stands for the Islamic countries in Middle East, North Africa, South Asia) and the face of good is always two white characters who are held in the highest regard. Not to mention, Ganondorf and his foster mothers Koume and Kotake had their character designs in Ocarina of Time based on anti-semetic caricatures. This overall set-up speaks volumes already, but it doesn't stop there. The franchise decided to expand upon the lore of the Gerudo in Ocarina of Time, Wind Waker, and Twilight Princess, explicitly and implicitly establishing that the tribe was, in fact, oppressed, ostracized, and underwent genocide. Some people may argue that this information is up for debate, given that a lot of it comes from Ganondorf who is an unreliable narrator; however, this argument fails to consider that even then, it never proves that Zelda and Link are any more trustworthy. After all, the victors write history. With these complexities added in, it becomes hard to discern who exactly is in the right or wrong. In reality, the matters were never black and white to begin with.

This segues to my next point: the light versus darkness trope is not suitable this time around. It's a very two dimensional, inaccurate representation of the world of Hyrule that conflicts with the goals the creators are trying to achieve in Tears of The Kingdom. If they truly wanted to concentrate on the duality between light and darkness, they've already done it with Breath of the Wild. We had Calamity Ganon, a sub-sentient manifestation of hatred that sought nothing but death and destruction, and it was up to Link and Zelda, who strove for the preservation of life and progress, to seal it. So why continue to expand on that? Why bring back Ganondorf? Personally, I see no point in his return. 

Unless… the "Tears" of the Kingdom refer to the Sheikah. 

"But, wait!" you ask, "All this talk about the Gerudo and for what? What does the Sheikah have to do with this?" 

To explain this we'll have to start at the beginning. No, not Skyward Sword, though it shares striking similarities with Tears of the Kingdom, such as the return of the magatama relics, a character with a likeness to Demise, and the juxtaposition between land and sky. No, we have to go before even then. We have to go to the Era of Hylia.

The Legacy of Hylia

Not much is known about Hylia beyond the fact she was meant to protect the Triforce as supposedly ordained by the Golden Goddesses and the people worshipped her for it. But, notice how we learn this story through Fi, a creation of Hylia, with few additions from Impa, from the Sheikah tribe that Hylia established herself. The Triforce is seen as something to protect in this story they share, though interestingly, the relic itself is designed to be as unbiased and uncaring of the individual that seeks it out. It is, without a doubt, divine (as it quite literally is a means to warp reality), but there is also no tangible morality associated with it.

So why did the Golden Goddesses think it had to be protected? Why is Hylia chosen to do it?

…Why did Demise go for it?

If it wasn't clear enough, Hylia is much more flawed than the creators let on. She feels entitled to the Triforce, though there is no reference but the Golden Goddesses (whom no one has ever witnessed) that says she should. It's selfish, almost childish even, that she gatekeeps it away from any user. It's human. Perhaps her traits are a reflection of the time she had spent with the civilization that worshipped her. Because of this, I consider her to be a demigod rather than god. Not so distant and otherworldly like the Golden Goddesses, but a force of nature that can't be subdued but still respected. Time is ruthless, it flies and it trudges. But I digress. In short, for all that is said about Hylia and her divinity, she was certainly stubborn in her efforts to prevent anyone from wielding the Triforce so that her world could remain the way it is, perfect and idyllic. 

But that's the thing, life was not idyllic like she wanted the Sheikah and the rest of the world to remember; no, it was terrible enough to spur Demise and his "demon" forces to seek out the Triforce as a means to wrest control from her. Again, I want to make it clear that Hylia and Demise go beyond the bounds of good and bad. A lot of lives were lost to Demise, to the point the humans nearly went extinct. There's little to redeem on that end. But we're never told the stories from the other side of the battle, so who's to say they hadn't suffered as much extreme casualties? Either way, there had to be something Hylia had done (or even not done) for Demise to take severe measures. The hatred he feels is all consuming, but there is something to be said about how hate does not bloom spontaneously — it is cultivated and grown. Keeping all of this in mind, I sometimes wonder if Demise's name was in relation to Hylia, as in he was her Demise, and that those demon forces of his were actually the demonized. We'll never know. But what we do know, is that the Triforce was the Golden Goddesses' way of giving hope to the mortals, to be able to use divine power to shape the world as they see fit (at least, according to the first Zelda, which is a fantastic moment of irony if you ask me) and Demise had every intention of seeing his future through.

The Sheikah's Story

Now, let's fast forward a few eons and come back to the tears. Many people have associated the tears from the title to be the magatama relics seen with Zelda, Sidon, Riju, Tulin, and Ganondorf. But the tear's symbolism in the franchise has been around for much, much longer, thanks to the existence of the Sheikah. The tear is a part of the eye symbol for the Sheikah, and according to the The Legend of Zelda Encyclopedia, it represents their willingness to go any lengths so as to support their divine mission of protecting the Royal Family that possesses the blood of the goddess Hylia. Given that information alone, wouldn't it make sense that the title "Tears of the Kingdom" refers to the Sheikah?

"Okay sure, but what role would they play in the game?" That's not the point. It's not the role they play now. It's the role they played in the past. Something of particular interest to me when it comes to the Sheikah is how differently the Sheikah are characterized between the games of Skyward Sword, Ocarina of Time, and Breath of the Wild. In Skyward Sword, they were a tribe who patiently for the day to protect the goddess's reincarnation and went so far as to transport her through time repeatedly. In OOT, they were agents who went so far as to secretly carry out the Royal Family's dirty work. In BOTW, they were inventors and sorcerers who went so far as to recreate divine power to protect the land. 

But guess what never changes? The fact that they write history.

Above everything else, they are the storytellers, and they have seen everything. The good, the bad, and the ugly. But with the role of storytelling, they have the ability to alter it, embellish it. And in the Sheikah's case, they have a tendency to omit the negative, so as to promote support for the goddess and her Royal Family. Think about it: Impa never explains why Demise wanted to take control of the world in Skyward Sword and she's the first to jump to fix issues at the Shadow Temple in Ocarina of Time so no one has to bear witness to what the temple had actually turned into. If she did, Hyrule would surely fall into chaos. To Hyrule, the governing powers like the goddess Hylia and the Royal Family are the pinnacle of morality. That image can't be compromised.

And for a time, it wasn't, until we reach Breath of the Wild. That's when things get interesting.

In the tapestry, as shown above, a majority of it is occupied by the tale of the warrior with the spirit of a hero, a princess with divine power, and a technological army pioneered by Sheikah. That's what the game's creators want you to see. But do you see that little strip at the bottom?

Yeah, that. It's a tiny piece of the story but it's a big one. By now, most game fans know that is the history of how the Yiga Clan came to be. Cado, one of the Sheikah that stands guard in front of Impa's home, elaborates on this imagery, remarking that once upon a time, the Royal Family (more specifically the King of Hyrule) did turn on the tribe that swore nothing but utmost loyalty to them.

Of course, this seems counterintuitive. Why punish the people who protected you? What was their sin? As far as we're told by Cado, Sheikah technology had once been praised as "the power of the Gods". Now, I won't get into too much detail about this, but the Triforce, which you might have noticed isn't really mentioned by word of mouth in Breath of the Wild, is now a power of the Royal Family that is passed down. All parts of it. It's a lot to take in, given my lack of elaboration, but I recommend watching THIS video by Monster Maze who does a fantastic job exploring the nature of the whole Triforce being hosted in an individual body.

But what I want you to take out of this information is how there is, essentially, a rivalry between the Sheikah and the Royal Family, a sudden leveling of the playing field that the latter party does not want. It's eerie how similar they act as their ancestor god. The entitlement is present yet again: you cannot change the world like I can, you cannot be as powerful as I am. I have the final say. This certainly paints a more explicitly, vicious picture of the Royal Family, but it's nothing really new. After all, the Sheikah remember everything cruel that had been done to others by this family, by them, but hid it for the purpose of the "greater good". But once they become the target, everything changes. The Sheikah don't remove it from history. They remember it. Some more passionately than others.

Ties between the Gerudo, the Sheikah, and the Yiga.

Something else on the Sheikah tapestry that seemed out of place for me is the depiction of the hero.

He is clad in green, which one would imagine, is a reference to Link's green motif throughout the games. However, I fully believe that detail is a red herring — that is to say, it's meant to throw us off. And from what I have seen, most fans of the game agree. Why? Because that same individual has red hair and a sword that looks more like a golden claymore than the sword that seals the darkness. And well, given that the Gerudo are the ones who use golden claymores, plus the way the figure is drawn to have a knee bent, there can only be one person this image is referring to:

Ganondorf.

Keep in mind how the Sheikah have erased his name, but did not erase him, and that the Yiga swear their allegiance to Calamity Ganon. To be completely honest, I think the Calamity did not have the name Ganon to it 10,100 years prior to the events of Breath of the Wild. But, to explain why it suddenly does in Breath of the Wild, I do believe Ganondorf had a calling to malice, whether the kind left behind by the Calamity or the kind that was already existing throughout the land. Read THIS post by @golvio to get an idea of what I mean. The only change I would make regarding this theory is that the people did not originally see the malice as inherently evil. A little rot was needed to clear the space for new growth. But with great power comes great responsibility, and I think Ganondorf might have utilized the malice in a manner the King of Hyrule was not pleased with. 

How so, and why? Well there can be different reasons to choose from for the creators, but I have a personal favorite theory that explains why the Sheikah and Yiga remember Ganondorf more acutely than even the Royal Family and why there's ruins in the Gerudo Desert: As a last resort, to protect the Sheikah who helped him defeat the Calamity, and to reclaim the technology they lost, Ganondorf used the malice to take over the guardians and to get rid of the soldiers wiping out the civilians. In response, Zelda from that time was tasked with defeating him with the help of the other "Sages" (those who possess the magatama relics/tears) and one of those sages sealed him away with the Zonai hand. Zelda's betrayal breeds the hatred that Demise foretold would reincarnate, time and time again, leading to Ganondorf internally accepting that a peaceful world is a world without the Kingdom of Hyrule, without the Royal Family, completing the cycle once more.

And so here it comes, the big storyline change that Nintendo stands on the precipice of:

To break the cycle, Ganondorf is not the one that needs to necessarily be redeemed. It's Zelda. That isn't to say that Ganondorf isn't flawed and should not repent; there are a million things he could have done better or have not done, whatever it is that lead him to be sealed. And what I mean by Zelda having to be redeemed is that even though she technically has done nothing personally to Ganondorf, it is her blood that binds her to the ancestors who spurred the very hatred that fueled the Calamity and left behind a legacy built on the maintained misfortune of others. If anything is to change, she must be the first to cast aside her fear so that the cycle cannot repeat again, and instead work on understanding her family's past and building her faith. And no, I don't mean her faith in the goddess (she has lost too much trying to), but faith in the goodness of a man who was unfairly pushed to become the worst version of himself to protect the helpless.

[hearts4hughes]

jack hughes’s secret relationship with the devils’ social media manager

• A/N: i love head-canons and writings like this and i love the hockey player x media!manager trope!!

it all began when you rushed through the corridors of the prudential center. your head was down as you rummaged through your bag looking for your camera when you collided with a muscular figure. a little dazed you looked up and mumbled out an apology.

the second jack laid his eyes on you he knew he was a goner. his signature toothy smile tugged at his lips as he examined your flushed face. “are you new around here?” he read your name off of the work id clipped to your shirt.

you nodded and rambled off about how it was your first week and that you’re afraid to mess up. he found it adorable that you confided in him. with a deep breath you finished your rant, anxiety weighing on you that you were being annoying, but jack silenced all those worries as his hand touched your shoulder. “you’re going to kick everyone’s asses in there, don’t worry.”

and the rest was history…

stolen glances from across the room as you fidget with your camera or as you took content for social media. jack smiling as he caught you biting your lip, a desperate attempt to suppress your smile. your face is always beet-red when he’s in the room and it’s only a matter of time before your colleagues begin to notice.

lingering touches whenever you both get the chance. whether it’s handing him a sign to hold and your fingers brush each others or just touching the doorknob at the same time (stuttered apologies and blushed cheeks follow). if he’s feeling bold, he’ll maybe put his hand on your lower back while he sneaks by you, whispering something cheeky in your ear. if anyone asks he swears he’s just affectionate with everyone, but his teammates know better.

before you took over the job as the social media manager /content director, jack would barely appear in videos or promotional material. sometimes you’d be lucky if you caught him walking around in the background of a tiktok or got a candid of him at practice, but besides that he steered clear of any media. however, that all changes the second you get there. suddenly he’s surprising everyone and volunteering to do content (maybe just so he can get alone with you, but he’d never admit it). fans are thrilled with the floods of jack videos and pictures which helps you get bonuses and promotions.

if the team makes plans to go out or celebrate something, he’s always the first to invite you. whether it’s pizza night over nico’s house or going out bar hopping, you’ll receive a detailed text from him with the location and time. in the event that you are going out to the bars with the team, his eyes stayed glued to you all night. he rarely sees you in anything besides your business casual work attire, so when you show up in a leather miniskirt and a skimpy top, his jaw is on the floor. jack has an insane jealousy streak and it doesn’t help that you’re incredibly attractive. the second some guy comes up to you, he’s white knuckling his drink and trying to figure out a way to steal you away.

he’s always trying to impress you. if you’re watching a practice, he’s doing his utmost to look like the best player out there. don’t even start on games because every single goal he gets he immediately looks for you in the crowd. whether he points at you or just gives you that knowing look, he makes sure you know that was just for you. and god forbid you compliment him, his ego will inflate like a helium balloon. nico and dawson will tell you to stop with the cute comments because he’s already cocky and insufferable as is.

when you and jack officially begin dating, you both agree to keep your relationship a secret. the two of you weren’t sure about the terms and regulations that the franchise had, so it was smarter to separate work and pleasure. it was grueling though, for the both of you. seeing each other all day and having to pretend like you didn’t know each other? it was painful. most the team and your colleagues knew about your situation anyway, though you and jack would always deny it. brushing it off as ‘we’re just close friends’.

you both rarely call each other by your real names. it’s always baby, babe, y/n/n, or jacky. you sometimes will slip up and call him by his nickname, almost almost compromising your secret.

with a clipboard and paper in hand, you walked towards jack and haula. the paper had a list of content creations you needed jack to do or help you film. when he didn’t notice your presence right away you called out to him, “babe-” you cut yourself off with a horrified look on your face. “jack, i mean jack.” he blushed, biting the inside of his cheek as haula snickered and patted his back. “real smooth.” jack’s voice was hushed and the corners of his lips tugged upwards with a smile. “it just slipped,” you defended with a pink hue that went from your cheeks to the tips of your ears.

[dorims]

last christmas (i gave you my heart).

gif creds @/fightingdragonswithwho

pairing. roman roy x reader

wc. 1.6k

genre. fluff

Spending every holiday under Logan Roy’s roof wasn’t necessarily a problem. But just like any other family gathering, the pot tended to be stirred until have a holly jolly Christmas sounded either like a call for help or the theme song from the Saw franchise. for a change, maybe spending christmas away from his family would do him good. you can only hope he agrees.

tags. NOT beta-ed(?), english isn't my first language // established relationship (fiancee/married, i havent decided yet lol), brief mention of alcohol, allusion to roy family dynamics, roman and reader are the only characters in this one

a/n. idc that its march and the fact im not big on christmas either, this one really fun to write! hope you enjoy

“So,” You test the waters, lathering the bristles of your toothbrush with the bubblegum toothpaste in the process. In tune with the routine you had wordlessly established, you locked eyes with him through the mirror. Not before letting your eyes roam over his relaxed figure of course. Surprisingly intimate, you would describe the way he liked to watch you while you finished your nightly routine. He would look so painfully comfortable, maybe even serene, as he let his body rest against the doorframe as his eyes lidded with perpetual fatigue, took in the mundanity of watching you lather your face with creams and face wash.“I’ve been thinking.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, though it sounded more like a stifled laugh. “That's new, how's that going for you?"

“Funny.” The foam in your mouth was of no help at conveying the faux annoyance, balancing out the deadpan you sported with a dose of conveniently muffled speech. Not intimidating at all, it only caused his grin to grow wider. And contagious as always, you leaned over the sink to spit the toothpaste in an attempt to hide a smile of your own, though the thick layer of adoration in your eyes gave it away. 

“I’m just saying,” he raised his hands in mock surrender, finally walking inside to lean against the marble counter right next to you. “I only wanna know how it feels to lose your, you know, thinking virginity after giving no signs of brain activity for how long? Like—“

“You can tell yourself how it feels when you lose it.”

“Oh you want to fuck my brain so bad—“

“I’ve been thinking,” You cut him off with an amused smile, taking him in once more. Big round eyes shone with mischief along a hint of sheepishness as he noticed you looking at him. Really looking at him under the vanity lights with messy hair from running his hands through the strands all day and finally wearing the matching pajamas set you had gotten for him in a pretty navy blue because wearing a matching set made you feel good and you wanted him to feel the same way. Always. 

“You've been thinking…” he rolled his eyes as if to hold back another quip now that you had restarted the conversation. The pinkish hue you were so familiar with made a small appearance as you let your fingers brush over his, gently coaxing him to intertwine his hands with yours. Not that he needed much convincing, though. 

“We should spend Christmas this year with my family.”

At the beginning of your relationship, you were sure he would’ve pulled his hand out of your grasp. You could see the way he had to swallow down the urge to do so from the pensive furrow of his brows while the side of his brain in charge of his critical thinking tried to convince him that your words weren’t an attack on his family. He was still working on it, the lousy therapy sessions here and there helped a little, but he still found himself opening his mouth to complain.

“I know what you’re gonna say but think about it, Romeo.” Thankfully, you took the steering wheel before he could start. “My family loves you and we haven’t spent Christmas with them in like, ever, actually.”

Which wasn’t his fault, and you made sure to tell him so, leaning closer until your knee touched his and giving him a quick peck on his lips before he could protest.

Spending every holiday under Logan Roy’s roof wasn’t necessarily a problem. It was nice to exist alongside the people that Roman loves, the people he grew up around. Watching him interact with his siblings could be endearing. So much so that sometimes you wished you could record their banter and laughter so he could listen back and for a moment picture that things between them were okay. But just like any other family gathering, the pot tended to be stirred until have a holly jolly Christmas sounded either like a call for help or the theme song from the Saw franchise.

“Every year we celebrate in a different place,” you toyed with the idea in front of his eyes like one would a cat’s toy, using your smile to build momentum to the grand reveal that at this point didn’t even sound grand to you. “last Christmas was Italy and this year we’re doing Greece.”

“Since when do you have a house in Greece?” He asked, toying with your fingers as his gaze locked itself on them. It was a good sign he was asking.

“We don’t,” the sound of your animated chuckle helped to loosen his shoulders. Though it didn’t dissipate his slight confusion, it always felt good to have you close like this. “It’s Kelly’s house— eh, her parents’ but sharing is caring or whatever…”

He let out a chuckle of his own. The sound made all sorts of warmth bloom in your chest, maybe even cute aggression if you felt like being dramatic. 

“And after we can spend New Year's just the two of us wherever you want.” He shrugged in a silent response, still pensive, and you couldn’t help but coo at him as if to coax him out of his shell. “It’s gonna be so much fun, they’ve been asking about us and the kids adore you, they’ve been obsessed with Uncle Roro ever since Lizzie’s birthday.”

“As they should be, my lower back never recovered from being used as a human jungle gym.” He rolled his eyes at the memory yet the love was evident from behind the thinly veiled sarcasm. He was a very particular individual but so were most of your siblings-in-law. And sure, the first time he met your family hadn’t gone as he expected, both in a good way and in a bad way, but your mother still asked him to join him for a glass of whiskey whenever they crossed paths with a welcoming smile and your father always hugged him in greeting like he did all his children. 

“You’re good with them,” You smiled against his lips as you leaned closer for a kiss, leaving a couple of pecks that eventually made him smile too. “you’ve always been good with kids.” 

“Yeah whatever, stop kissing me my breath stinks.” 

The way your brothers had instantly included him in their weird boys' night out, which was ruled by the obnoxiously corny motto ‘what happens in boys' night, stays in boy’s night’ that was used as a smoke screen for that one time they decided to go to the spa to never be taken seriously again once they swallowed their own stupidity, left you grinning for a week straight. And let's not start with the picture you had taken during a summer trip to Nice of all the daughters-in-law posing like they were celebrating their high school prom with Roman at the front of the line, it had been all laughter all throughout; the picture came out a little blurry. 

It’s all you could think about sometimes when you watched him doing nothing interesting in particular with a lovesick intensity only rivaled by his. How well he fits in your life, with the quips and interjections that kept you company and next to you on your shared bed. With both your slippers sitting neatly side by side and with the unmeasurable love pooling at the bottom of his chest that he had finally allowed himself to unabashedly share after who knows how long. 

“Can you pass me your headband? I need to wash my face.”

He insisted yours was better every time you told him he should buy one of his own. Even if he hadn’t tried any other than yours. You only let it pass because he looked cute with his hair pushed back. No other reason at all. 

“So,” you cut yourself by giving him a peck on the lips as he got closer to steal some face wash. He had his own on his side of the bathroom but the bottle was pretty much full and yours still ran out quicker than when it was just you. “Greece or no Greece?”

“I got chills, they’re multiplying.” He joked right before rinsing the soap from his face, chuckling at your lack of amusement. “What? You prefer right now there’s nowhere to hide since you pushed my love aside?”

“I prefer you answer my question.” 

The eyes of a kicked puppy on full display just put him out of his misery vibes, pleaded in silence as he dragged his feet across the floor until he was standing right in between your legs, his face hiding in the crook of your neck. He fit nicely against your body and instinctively you let your fingers brush along the strands of his hair. “It’s okay if you don’t want to go.” 

He groaned in response, his voice muffled against your skin. “It’s not that, I want to, I just— I already RSVP or whatever bullshit to my Dad.”

No one RSVP’ed to Logan Roy. Especially not his children. It wasn’t necessary when the table was already set for all parties involved regardless of conflicting schedules 

“That’s okay,” You kiss his hair, resting your cheek against his head and muffling your own voice. The vibrations made him hum. “I can talk to him.”

The disheveled strands tickled your skin as he shook his head. Now that his chin was resting on your chest you noticed how cartoonishly slow he was blinking, his lids heavy the weight of being awake for far too long. 

“I’ll talk to him.” He pressed a kiss against the side of your jaw, feeling the unmistakable excitement of your grin, before hiding the yawn that followed. “Tomorrow, I promise.

[pippin-katz]

Post Red, White, & Royal Blue Viewing Thoughts

Okay, I have now watched this film from start to finish four times since it dropped, and I think I'm ready to share my thoughts. This is a lot of thoughts, so if you click "keep reading", be prepared to read.

Total Word Count: 6,579

Part One: First Impressions

After the first watch, I didn't really know how to feel. I finished it not feeling very satisfied.

After the second watch, it clicked.

I adore it. It is a beautiful movie full of hope and love and it is definitely one of my favorite movies now.

I realized that I had watched it wrong. I was enjoying myself watching the film, but my mind was far too focused on thinking about what would and wouldn't be in the movie to truly watch it for the movie it is. This movie is not the book. It's not trying to be. It is a separate entity with its own unique take on the story. It is an adaptation, not a recitation, as Matthew Lopez put it.

If you watch it focusing on the book and wanting it to be a perfect copy, you will be disappointed. However, that's part of the point. It is not trying to recite the book.

Part Two: Film VS Book Format

In order for a perfect, 100% accurate recitation of the book to film to even be possible, a series would have to be made. Red, White, & Royal Blue is not a very long book, but it is truly stuffed to the brim with content. Casey did not have to worry about a budget or time constraints when they wrote it. That meant they could write lots of scenes with the side characters, and whole side plots without a problem.

That is simply not possible to do in a single movie. That is not what the format of a film is made for.

That's why sequels and series exists. That's why the television format exists. Multiple plot lines can be explored at once and you have more time in total, however the trade off is the audience dynamic changes and the risk that brings.

A series needs to have a strong concept in order to for it to successfully hold its audience and keep it watching through to the conclusion of the plots. It's bit different now due to streaming, but with series, if your audience does not remain interested and active, you may not get to even finish telling your story. All that time spent on the side plots and great scenes is wasted because you never even got to follow through with the main plot, let alone those.

A movie is made and then it's done. They can't unmake it. That story is always going to be told from start to finish in that movie, however it tells it.

With the way the industry works nowadays, getting anything more unique than the expected blockbuster movies to be made is difficult. The corporate side of the film industry has practically made it impossible to make anything that doesn't already belong to a franchise. I have not seen a trailer for a romance centered film in what feels like years.

This is a romcom, which have already been struggling, but also a QUEER romcom. It's incredible that the movie was made at all when you think about Hollywood and its absurd views.

We've already seen that Red, White, & Royal Blue got an R rating in the US despite not really showing anything actually explicit. Matthew Lopez even voiced that he believes if it had been a straight couple, it would've been PG-13. I believe it 100% would've been PG-13 if it was a straight couple.

To anyone who might be wondering why the rating matters, the maturity rating of a movie can heavily impact its audience and marketing. Obviously, an R rating steers away any preteens and parents with kids, but it also puts a preconceived notion of the movie's contents into the heads of anyone who sees the trailer.

When you see that R, you expect either heavily graphic sexual content, extreme violence, or vulgar language, sometimes all three depending on the movie. There are lots of adults who are fine with the idea of a bit of sexual content in their media, like a scene that implies it but cuts away or shows the bare minimum of the actions for the viewer to get the idea. But I think a lot people draw the line at something graphic enough to get an R rating, like Fifty Shades of Grey for example. They're going to the theater to watch a romance film, not a pornography film.

Red, White, & Royal Blue already has to fight for its audience by being a queer romance, and getting an R rating adds an extra hurdle that impacts what kind of audience will even consider their movie.

All that being said, it would've been unbelievably difficult for Matthew and the rest of the production team to secure a series rather than a movie.

Part Three: Adapting Your Point of View

In the case of this adaptation, it is not meant to be the book. After I realized this, rewatching the movie as the movie fixed my reaction.

It recontextualized the movie for me. I stopped sitting there like, "oh he didn't say this line" or "damn they cut that scene" for the entire thing. I approached it as a separate entity, so they didn't "change" the story, so to speak; I completely pushed the book aside and focused on the movie.

Lots of things are different in the movie world, but instead of focusing on them being different from the book, approaching it is as the standard of the movie allowed me to appreciate it. Some examples:

So Henry's last name is different; not to them! To them that's always been his name!

So June got removed; not to them! To them Alex was always an only child!

So Luna got removed; not to them! They don't know who that is because he never existed in their world!

The book still exists the way it has always existed. It is not changing, and not going anywhere. It's world will always be there within those pages. The movie exists someplace else, in its own world. What makes it an adaptation rather than an original story is the common denominator of the main characters and their relationship. Everything else is secondary.

Part Four: Cuts

To expand on that last statement, everything other than Alex and Henry's relationship is secondary. Their story, their scenes, their dynamic comes first before anything else. They are more important than June, than Nora, than Pez, than Luna, than anyone else. Their dynamic is more important than the campaign, the divorce, than the sexuality crisis, than Nora, Pez, and June's polycule, than the Powder Princess, than anything else.

Alex and Henry's relationship is the most important thing.

It's not a story focused on Alex learning his bisexual identity. That's a side plot.

It's not a story focused on Nora and Pez (and June in the book) hooking up. That's a side plot.

It's not a story focused on Beatrice's past with cocaine. That's a side plot.

It's not a story focused on Luna's role in exposing Richards. That's a side plot.

People need to understand what a side plot's role in a story is. It pulls away from the main story to discuss something different, but relevant. They're good for development, filler, or connecting dots between major events, but without them, the primary plot should be able to stand alone.

Red, White, & Royal Blue's plot stands alone. The plot of the first son of the president of the United States falling in love with a prince from Britain is an independent storyline.

With Alex and Henry, they're rivals-to-friends-to-lovers, so there is so much to say and show with so little time. It's not like two best friends realizing they're in love; their bond has been on screen the entire time already, it just changes into something more. It's not like a meet-cute where they go on one date and fall madly in love in minutes. Alex and Henry have to dislike each other, then build an understanding that they can like each other, then further that understanding into loving each other.

That takes time! Think about how many pages of emails are in the book! Those are there to show the reader the progress being made between them, and there's a lot of them, probably canonically more than the ones we get to read. A movie can't spend half its runtime narrating emails, it does not have time for that.

Believe me, someone adapting a piece of media that they love, as much as Matthew has said he loves the book, does not take pleasure in removing things. You find interviews he has done where he's talked about it, and admitted to having to be very ruthless when it came to cutting things. We know that the original cut was three hours long! He did not set out to hurt your feelings by removing and changing things.

Part Five: Miguel & The Waterloo Letters

Aside from the obvious removals, I think the biggest change in the movie is presence of Miguel. I've seen a lot of people already unsure or hateful of his character, though he did not bother me that much because I see what he's there for.

Miguel is a combination of Liam's character and Luna's/Richards' plot line.

Liam is obviously in the book as part of Alex's realization that he's not straight. He's the "I've played around with the idea" character. They have that phone call about their past "relationship" and he's done. Other than that, he's a cameo role that shows up like two times.

Miguel flirts with Alex and he gets a bit embarrassed/flustered because we learn that they had a make-out session while naked in a hot tub. Alex does not flirt back with Miguel; if anything, he ignores the insinuations that he's clearly making. He actively refuses to acknowledge their hook up when talking to him. He's not looking for a relationship with him, despite being aware that Miguel definitely wants to hook up with him. This is a symptom and storytelling method of giving off the impression that he's not really sure about his sexuality. He's not in complete denial, but clearly not super confident in himself to even acknowledge Miguel's attempts at flirting with him. It can be swept under the rug or brushed off. He only acknowledges Miguel's attempts to hook up again after he's slept with Henry, after he's become more comfortable and confident in his bisexuality.

Miguel is also a substitute for the Richards plot line, specifically the exposing Alex part. He's not the same as Luna by any means, but he was someone Alex was friendly with that turned around and stabbed him in the back, which is what he believes Luna to have done for most of the book. Miguel is clearly the one who got ahold of the emails and leaked them, filling in for the role Richards' campaign has. He's the one who has his team stalk Alex to expose him. Again, Miguel is not Richards by any means. He does not actively stalk Alex, but he fills in the role of the person behind the leak for nefarious reasons. Richards wants to expose him to win the election. Miguel wants to expose him for his journalism and because he feels personally slighted by him. It's not the same, but it works. They're both self-serving reasons for why the emails got leaked.

Part Six: Keeping It Light

I've definitely seen some people upset that the leak wasn't played as big of a deal as it was in the book. I think this change is tied to the role of Miguel filling in for Richards, and I believe it's intentionally not as intense as the book.

They have made it clear that the movie's goal is lift people's spirits, to give them hope and courage for the future, to make them feel seen, and bring joy.

The side plot of Ellen's competitor legitimately stalking her son and setting him up is fucking horrible to say in the least. That part of the book is the heaviest of the despair and public humiliation that hits them.

While it's important to the plot that the emails get leaked, I think Matthew made a point of skipping around it a little because it would've brought the entire tone of the movie down to a truly depressing state. It's heartbreaking to read, and probably would've been absolutely devastating to watch, and while there's angst, Alex and Henry's story is meant to be a happy one, an inspiring one. They would not have had the time to properly engage with that level of angst and then get out of it without the viewer getting whiplash.

I think that's probably also why the conversation with the king was far shorter than the conversation with the queen in the book. With the goal being to make people happy, spending too long on the seriously negative parts of the narrative would have been problematic and counterproductive. Like I said in part two of this essay, Casey had all the time in the world to set that up and drop that bomb on the reader, and then all the time in the world to get Alex and Henry to climb out of the hole they'd fallen into.

The movie doesn't remove all the angst and heartbreak, but it does its best not to pull the viewer out of the fantasy. When something on screen hits too close to reality, when it's not supposed to, it can ruin the movie experience.

I just watched Indiana Jones: The Last Crusade the other day, and legitimately had myself yanked painfully back into reality with the Nazi scenes, specifically the book burning one. That movie takes place in the past, the idea being that things aren't like that anymore, but with the way things have been going in America, and specifically in the state of Florida, where I live, it was too much. It used to be ridiculous to watch historical fiction where Nazi's hung swastikas everywhere and burned books, but now I see pictures of modern day swastikas being worn and flown and it crushed me. I couldn't enjoy the rest of the movie, despite it obviously being a piece of action/historical fiction about the Holy Grail, not actually about WWII.

I think it's also why they removed the Luna and Richards plotline, because an older Republican politician using their position to take advantage of young girls and boys is very, very dark. It's too close to what we hear coming out of the news every day.

I can also see this being the reason they decided to keep Ellen and Oscar together in this version. The book has the time to go into how their divorce both negatively and positively effected their family dynamic.

I saw someone complaining that Oscar talking about his and Ellen's relationship being a risk didn't work because they were still together, and the conversation in the book is to make Alex realize that it's worth it even if it doesn't work.

Yes, that's the point in the book. That is not the goal in the movie.

Again, they wanted this to be a fantasy romance that uplifted everyone. Approaching that decision with the more pessimistic idea that they probably wouldn't work paints a different mood than the hope his parents being together gives Alex for him and Henry. These are two entirely different approaches! It's intentional!

If Red, White, & Royal Blue had done more with those parts of the book, it very likely would have pulled the viewer out of the immersion and remind them of the depressing realities of real life, which is not the goal.

Part Seven: Intimacy

I was absolutely blown away by the intimate scenes in this movie. I'm demisexual, on the the ace-spectrum, and I am not personally a fan of sexual content in film. This is mostly because it's usually poorly executed, unnecessary, or over-the-top. It pops up in places it doesn't need to be, and makes me roll my eyes or get pissed off.

Part of this frustration undoubtedly comes from my bias as part of the queer community, and I'm willing to admit that. I've developed a slight bitterness towards most portrayals of straight couples in media from it being shoved down my throat my entire life.

It was new for me to see intimate scenes with a queer couple, or rather a gay couple specifically. I have encountered lesbian sex scenes, like in Wynonna Earp. However, I had never seen two men together. I think the reason for this difference is fairly obvious, as it's been widely known for some time that lesbians are very often fetishized by straight men, who are unfortunately the majority of higherups in Hollywood. It is far more likely to have a straight executive sign off on a lesbian sex scene than a gay one, because to them, women together is "fun", while men together is considered "uncomfortable".

This is not to say that gay men aren't fetishized, because they unfortunately are too, but only to point out the disproportionate amount of lesbian intimacy vs gay intimacy in film.

The point being that I had never seen two men be intimate with each other on screen. I was nervous going in because of my issues with most sex scenes, but there was something magical about how they handled them in this movie.

Like I said, I hate when sex scenes are tossed in for no reason, but in the case of Alex and Henry, it is a core part of their relationship and its development. It was the first time I watched a sex scene start without going "here we go with the sex" with a sigh. Their sexual dynamic is part of their dynamic as a whole, that is a key element in becoming closer and understanding each other more.

The thing is, I say all that knowing that there is still a lot of "gays being horny" moments in the book, some of which making it into the movie. What was wonderfully done about that though was that the fast and aggressive encounters were limited. They didn't show any further than making out and the motion of taking off pants. All of those horny moments were handled perfectly to provide the right amount of comedy and yes, sexiness, without shoving it down our throat (pun not intended).

I personally don't need to see a guy giving another guy a blowjob in a romantic comedy film! Ace-spectrum or not, if I wanted to see that, I'd go to a porn website like everyone else. Romance and pornography are not the same thing! Having them go far enough for the viewer to know what they were doing without showing it was perfect.

That brings me to the sex scene. Yes, the work of art that is their first time in Paris.

I said before that a lot of sex scenes make me annoyed or roll my eyes, because most of them are just thrown in for the sake of playing to their audience. In this case, this scene was not for the audience.

I've seen several people say this, and I have to agree, that watching that scene feels like you're intruding on something very personal and it is the truest example of intimacy I've ever seen. It's the most graphic scene in the film, yet it does not show the graphic parts, if that makes sense. Yes, they're naked, and you know what they're doing, but they don't film them in a way that made me uncomfortable, aside from feeling a bit bashful because, I mean, have you watched the scene?

There's no showing of their genitals or private areas at all. It's almost entirely focused on their faces, and the few cuts to their bodies only include Henry's hand on Alex's back and shoulder, in his hair, and the two of them holding hands. This is because they're not just "having sex", but as Henry put it "making love". Yes, that's a bit of an old fashioned way to put it, but it makes far more sense than simply saying it's a sex scene.

It's not just "two characters have sex whoo!". They're not crazily fucking like porn stars. They're clearly going slow and cherishing each other. It's almost impossible to put into words how intimate the scene feels and how not like a sex scene it feels despite being one. There's only some soft instrumental as the background as well, not some pornographic moaning and whatnot that you might find in other movies or shows.

This is all coming from a demisexual who has no interest in sex and gets genuinely annoyed with how often it comes up in film. That is how different this scene was. Their intimacy coordinator, Robbie Taylor Hunt, deserves a huge bonus.

Part Eight: Taylor & Nicholas

I mentioned this in a post before the movie came out, but I'll gladly say it again now that I've seen it. I've never seen a couple on film convince me so entirely that they were two real people in love, and not just fictional characters. It's astonishing to me, and I cannot put the feeling into words. I've seen couples in real life that look less in love than they do.

Both of them deserve awards for their performances in this film. Their chemistry on screen together is indescribable. They are amazing in every way. Both of them nailed their characterizations and nailed their dynamic together.

I had never seen either of them before this, and I can say that I desperately hope they are given the opportunity to be in another project together after this. I've been reading the interviews that were conducted prior to the strike and my respect for the two of them is immeasurable. They are both incredible actors and they did not take the responsibility of the representation lightly, and you can tell. You can tell through how electrifying the two of them are in every scene they share and in their individual moments of standing up for themselves.

Alex's speech about the queer community was beautifully written, but Taylor's execution is what drove it home. The energy he put into Alex on a whole truly brought him to life. Nicholas is one of the most expressive actors I've ever seen. His facial expressions spoke so much with no words in the way Henry has to because he's not allowed to share his thoughts.

I have so much respect and admiration for them, and I hope that even though they can't say much at the moment, they can at least see the impact they've had after just the first day of it being available.

Part Nine: Queer Identity

"The conformity of the closet cannot be answered with the forced conformity in coming out of it." - Alex Claremont-Diaz

I have never heard such a beautiful sentence regarding coming out. It could not be more perfect, especially considering how people immediately started assuming that Taylor and Nicholas are straight men playing queer roles.

As far as I know of, neither of them have publicly discussed their identities, and they do not have to. That does not give anyone the right to assume they're straight. If they are, I see that only as another testament of their skill and talent as actors. If they aren't, then they aren't and maybe they used their own personal experiences as part of their performances. Either way, they don't have to tell us. They have a right not to.

Nicholas obviously did a fucking phenomenal job with Henry and was amazing in portraying how that lifestyle can effect someone like him. He was truly heartbreaking to watch in his sad scenes.

The multiple lines where Alex discusses being bisexual are fantastic. The B is not silent! Having his bisexuality continuously reenforced to the audience was a great call, and they did it without being obvious about it. It's not like he's saying it every five minutes, but he doesn't just say "I like both" and never mention it again. He specifically uses the label bisexual when speaking to Henry and telling his mom. It's important for people to hear that word and be unable to ignore it.

Even though Alex had less of a crisis about being bisexual than in the book, there was still an arc to his confidence in his label. You can feel the uncertainty early on through Taylor's performance. Alex pretends to be suave and confident, but as soon as he goes to tell Henry his label, it takes him a second to say it. Then in Paris before their first time, he admits he's never had sex with another man before, and is clearly nervous. Taylor nailed those moments where Alex's confidence cracks. And you can see Alex become more comfortable with the label as the movie continues. When his mother asks, he's laughing and simply says "I'm bi" without any preamble, unlike when he needed a minute to breathe before saying it to Henry.

Speaking of his mother, although they didn't have the time to do the PowerPoint presentation, they still made sure to have Ellen not just be accepting, but supportive too. She doesn't just say "okay, that's cool", but takes it seriously as a part of her son's life. As embarrassing as it is to have your mom talk sex with you, it shows how she was immediately prepared to help him feel safe and healthy while being in a relationship with a man. She did not tiptoe around it or shy away from it. That is not just acceptance, that is support. That is important.

This movie is important in so many ways. It is honestly still hard to believe it exists.

Part Ten: Pacing

The film moves fast, but this is because the book also moves fast, but the film has way less time to get the same point across. I may be in the minority, but after I disconnected the book from the movie, I didn't feel like it was rushed.

Here's the thing, a lot of movies have a nasty habit of being stuffed with filler. There's so much unnecessary stuff that's put into films to pad the runtime, make it longer. Most people don't really think about it, but it's actually super common, and annoying for those who notice.

Red, White, & Royal Blue does not move too fast. It simply does not waste time.

The minimum runtime to be considered a feature length film in the US is 60+ minutes, but a lot of movies nowadays try to get closer to 120+ minutes, which is a big difference. Consider the original Avengers film, 143 minutes, which is a lot, and then we got Avengers: Endgame which was 183 minutes.

For some perspective, The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers released to theaters with a 179 minute-long runtime, but the extended edition runtime is 235 minutes. The Lord of the Rings films are notorious for their extended versions and the fact that they are extraordinarily long. Almost everyone who watches the extended edition trilogy spreads it out over several days, if not a week because it is too much to watch in one sitting unless you have the entire day free.

These massive numbers come from the fact that they have a lot to show, most of which is vital to the plot. Too many movies now add unnecessary content to make their runtime longer.

There is not a single scene in Red, White, & Royal Blue is meaningless. Even the fun montage scenes like those at the lake house are there to communicate the development of their relationship, and how far they've come.

While we can see their love showing up early on, obviously they lead with friends-with-benefits relationship that makes for most of their physically shared time being sex centered. The lake house shows them genuinely enjoying being around each other outside of that context, like reading together on a hammock or Henry doing drunk karaoke. Their small conversations are picked carefully to showcase their banter, then their growing connection.

The story is about them, and therefore, there's no point in taking a winding sidetrack to go into the details of Alex's college classes or the campaign progress. That's all great for the book, but in the movie, they don't need to do that, and the decision not to was the right one. It only would've taken the focus off of them.

They have a lot to do with just them. There's no reason to drag their feet around, so they don't! There's no point in spending fifteen-twenty minutes to show something they can accomplish in five. There's no point in dragging out the passage of time.

The fast pace only doesn't work if their progression as a couple isn't believable, and we've already established that their progress as a couple is perfectly balanced.

That's my take on the pacing, that it's not rushed. I prefer them just going, not wasting any time. That's the other part that makes the cuts not bother me.

As much as I love so many scenes that didn't make it, they didn't need to be there for the story to progress as it needed to. Trying to cram more in would've only made it hard to keep up with. That would've made it rushed. The way it is is fine.

Part Eleven: Texts VS Emails

I saw some complaints that they didn't continue the way they did the text messages with the way they did the emails, and I have to say, I disagree that they should've.

The texts are conversational and work really well to have pop up graphics and edits, but those emails are letters. They are a lot more serious, and using purely voiceover is far less distracting. You can focus purely on what they're saying and the inflection of their voices. It also gave them a chance to show the progress of time through Alex's campaign work.

Most of their emails are exchanged over a period of time where nothing particularly interesting is happening. They are the interesting thing. Alex is busy with college and Henry's just doing his royal duties. That doesn't make for the most entertaining action on screen.

Alex's devotion to Texas in the book is his binder. It works really well in the book because we can hear Alex's thoughts, considering there's not much actually said about the binder. He has that confrontation with that guy in the White House, but the binder is his private, secret project. Hearing his thoughts and feelings directly works better than how it would've played out if they did the same thing in the movie. It would've been some shots of him with it, foreshadowing and hinting at it, but its true importance would've been lost on those who haven't read the book.

Instead, they were direct about it. He tries to get his strategy implemented from the beginning, while in the book, it's a secret plan that he doesn't intend to share yet. Instead of the argument with that coworker, he has the argument with his mother, which hits the beats of his desires for Texas. He wants to go out there and make them feel heard and reach out to the younger population, and that's exactly what he tells his mother in that argument.

Having him working on the campaign during that stretch of time between Paris and the lake house accomplished what all those thoughts and emails and Luna's role did in establishing what politics means to Alex, what Texas means to Alex.

Being able to watch him working while hearing him and Henry write to each other through the emails was a perfect blending of two parts of the book.

And again, their phrasing in the emails is very different from the texts. The pop-ups would've felt a bit odd. In the texts where they do that, they're bantering back and forth, sending the articles, and sharing interests, but in those emails, Alex is talking about the pressure he's under to succeed and Henry is talking about how inspiring he is. It's better to keep the audience focused in on them rather than the fun graphics and whatnot.

Part Twelve: Alex's Speech

I've been seeing some people upset about the changes to Alex's speech, and I have to say that I feel like they're overreacting. What he said in the movie was so, so important, and for the people who are freaking out like "he wouldn't confirm their relationship without talking to Henry first", do you not realize that people can have an unspoken understanding?

We don't get the same conversations, but Henry is obviously scared about going public, but he never gives off the impression that he doesn't want to, or that he wants to lie about it. There's also the undeniable fact that they had conversations we did not get to see, book based or not.

You think they didn't say anything else to each other the rest of the night after the V&A visit? You think we got all the emails they shared over the year they were seeing each other?

This is one of those moments where I'm like, "get over yourself" to those people. Who do you think knows Henry better? You, or the actual character he's in a relationship with?

Part Thirteen: Important Messages

Another thing I've been seeing driving me up the wall is people complaining about some of the messages from the book not being in the movie, and again, I have to say, do you not understand what an adaptation is?

The message of this movie is the primary message of the book. That love should not have to be justified to others.

That's essentially what Henry says to the king near the end. He directly questions him about maintaining a traditional royal image, and puts the king in the position of having to admit his discriminatory views. The king had been skirting around it, saying things like "your love is genuine" and whatnot, but still forcing them to lie and hide, which Henry puts his foot down to. He doesn't let him get away with dancing around it.

Henry's line of being who he is and not who they want him to be is powerful and potent. He refuses to keep justifying who he is. Philip refers to their love as a mad infatuation, and Henry shuts him down. He and Alex are in love with each other, and he is not going to pretend otherwise even though he's scared.

That is the core message, that love is love, and love wins.

The other messages are still in the book. They haven't gone anywhere. They simply did not fit into the movie format, but that does not mean they're not going to be heard. The opening credits tells you right off the bat that this is based on a novel, and those who enjoy the movie are likely to go read it afterwards if they hadn't previously.

Trying to cram too many themes and messages into one movie can destroy the impact of all of them. Sometimes it's better to focus on nailing one major theme and making sure that it hits powerfully than bouncing all over the place in an attempt say as much as possible. Messages that are alluded to or mentioned, but never followed through on harm the movie more than their inclusion helps it. It makes them feel hollow, like they're just there to be like "see? we're talking about this important stuff, give us credit".

I feel like people deep down know that, that if they had tried to fit everything they would've disliked it for a whole different reason, but they're still so determined to be cynical and negative that they can't acknowledge what the film did say.

Part Fourteen: Final Thoughts & Cake

Congratulations if you've read this far! I did not expect this essay to be as long as it was, but everything I wanted to say needed more explanation, which led to more branch offs, and that's why I ended up sectioning it.

I can safely say that I absolutely adore this movie. I am going to be watching it on loop for the next couple days since I have the house to myself for the weekend.

This movie is definitely its own entity. It is unique from the book, and should not be judged by how "accurate" it is. It's a different telling of the story, and a fantastic one. It deserves to be appreciated, and gushed about.

If anyone tries to bring you down with their negativity towards this film, ignore them. I don't mean people who are politely providing valid criticism. I mean those people who have been basing their opinions entirely on how the movie compares to the book, and deciding that any changes made automatically makes it inferior. The people who are ignoring all of the fantastic aspects of the movie because they're so wrapped up in their own head.

I'm finishing this off with that reminder, that the movie is not trying to be the book. Please keep that in your mind when you watch it. For those who may have felt a similar feeling of unsatisfaction after watching it for the first time, rewatching with this as your focus may allow you to find what you were missing from the experience before.

To put it into a simple metaphor, Red, White, & Royal Blue is a cake. Yes, I'm aware of the irony, but it works very well here.

Let's say that the base story of Red, White, & Royal Blue is a chocolate cake.

The book can be a chocolate cake, with buttercream between the layers, pink icing, and sprinkles. The movie can be a chocolate cake with chocolate mousse between the layers, blue icing, and flowers.

They are both chocolate cakes. They are the same and different at the same time. Most people are going to have a preference, but that does not mean you can't enjoy both.

You have two chocolate cakes! It's a win-win!

And to the people who are simply trashing this movie, I'd like to stop and ask you something. How is it that the original author, and creator of these characters and story, approves and loves this adaptation, but you can't?

I'm an author myself, and I'm fiercely protective over my characters and ideas, and immediately get my claws out when someone suggests a major change I disagree with or a false interpretation of it.

Casey themselves has said basically the same thing I did at the start of this when I explained that the movie exists separately to the book, and they love it. If the original creator loves it, sorry, but I really don't give a damn what you have to say about its "accuracy".

To everyone else, remember to try and not let people's negativity influence you too much. If you love the movie, you don't need to justify it. You're allowed to.

Thank you for reading this. Seriously, fucking congrats if you made it this far. I'm expecting this to get like no notes and still spent an entire day writing this lmfao

Update: If you enjoyed this essay & would like to support me, you can give me a tip on my Ko-Fi! ☺️

[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

Cristina Scabbia x Diablo: Inside metal and gaming’s most devilish crossover yet

Outstanding hack-and-slash remaster Diablo II: Resurrected isn’t just about polishing up the beloved original’s relentless fire and brimstone. In a striking collaboration with Lacuna Coil songstress Cristina Scabbia and bizarro YouTube star Mark The Hammer, it’s inspired the latest crossover between video games and heavy music, too…

When Cristina Scabbia first picked up the joypad, she had no idea she was steering herself onto a path that would still be throwing up juicy side-missions three decades down the line. A young teenager in northern Italy during the mid-’80s first generation video game boom, the future Lacuna Coil frontwoman didn’t have the spare cash for the cutting-edge equipment of the time, whose 128-colour palettes and blocky two-dimensional sprites felt utterly futuristic. When a local friend powered up David Crane’s 1982 masterpiece Pitfall! on their Atari 2600, however, it opened the doors to another world.

“I’ve been a gamer for quite a while,” her eyes light up at the memory. ​“I love video games. I love what you can learn from them. I love the stories they tell…”

Few games are as darkly compelling as Blizzard Entertainment’s legendary Diablo series. Bringing to life the dark fantasy realm of Sanctuary – a midpoint between the High Heavens and Burning Hells – its trio of classic titles chronicle the eternal conflict between mankind and the demonic legions led by Diablo, fearsome Destroyer Of Souls. When David Brevik’s original landed in 1996, it was a literal game-changer for the industry, raising the bar in terms of depth and detail, storytelling and character-building. 2000’s Diablo II raised it again, still revered by hardcore gamers as the greatest action-RPG of all, while 2012’s Diablo III brought the franchise into the modern era.

Fittingly, it’s against that shadowy backdrop that Cristina joins us today, to discuss Start Again, her musical collaboration with the minds behind thrilling 3D, HD remaster Diablo II: Resurrected.

Speaking from her high-backed gaming chair in front of an impressive PC set-up this morning, she looks ready for battle. A laid-back, dressed-down counterpart to her imposing onstage alter-ego, she is surrounded by stacks of proudly-displayed paraphernalia, from a plushie of Gremlins’ Gizmo and photos of her band, to figurines of her favourite virtual characters, spare controllers, and the ubiquitous energy drink refrigerator.

Anyone familiar with Cristina’s Twitch streams wondering if this might be a carefully-arranged studio space should think again. ​“It’s actually part of my living room,” she laughs. ​“There’s this big table that was supposed to be for dinners with friends, but as we would go out to eat instead, I decided to use it for something that I like, and filled it with computers, monitors and consoles.

“It’s where I play. It’s where I stream from. It’s the safe space.”

Diablo’s heroes work best when joining forces, and 30 minutes further north, in the town of Saronno, we meet Marco Arata – AKA YouTube sensation Mark The Hammer – Cristina’s collaborator on Start Again, and a playful like mind. ​“I was three years old when I first played on a Game Boy,” he smiles into the light of a bank of monitors, ​“and I never stopped.”

For readers not in the know, Mark is the uber-talented multi-instrumentalist who’s gained a reputation for uploading incisive, tongue-in-cheek videos to YouTube like Irritating Guitar Lessons and How To Create A Black Metal Song… Without Any Talent. Learning piano aged eight, he quickly graduated to electric guitar, bass and drums. He’s since been picked up as the live guitarist/keyboardist for Italian pop-hip-hop icon J‑Ax. The main Mark The Hammer YouTube channel has more than half a million subscribers, while its English-language alternative boasts close to 100,000.

Both accomplished, analytical, artistic minds, it feels key to Start Again’s success that the duo see gaming as a chance to switch off – less interested in graphics and game engines than narrative drive and world-building.

“Whenever you listen to a song as a musician, you have your brain working, thinking about what exactly is going on,” explains Mark. ​“I’m a big fan of acting and drama, too, and the same thing applies when you watch a movie. But when you pick up that game pad, you’re able to relax and [switch that part of your brain off]. It’s the only thing in my life that I can really say is completely relaxing.”

“I know that some people prefer creating groups or being part of a competition,” agrees Cristina, noting that Diablo, in particular, fits her play style ​“but I’m more of a selfish, solitary player. I don’t want to feel that competition while I play. I want to be able to relax and do things at my own pace, to have my own rhythm. I don’t necessarily think of games as an escape. For me, it’s a different world that I want to be part of, [parallel to] the real world. It’s not that I want to [run away and] live in the video game world. But when I’m playing, I want to stay there, I want to focus on what’s happening – I want to absorb all the vibes. It’s not just something that you’re watching: you’re part of it. You can choose your character. You can increase your power. You can pick your path and select your sides.

“There are things about this world that non-gamers could never really understand…”

Like all the best quests, it began with a message from out of the blue. Mark recalls the sense of absurdity, watching an email drop into his inbox that he couldn’t quite believe was real. “I remember opening the message and seeing that it was an opportunity to write [a song inspired by Diablo II] for the release of Diablo II: Resurrected. Oh, yeah, and you’ll have Cristina Scabbia from Lacuna Coil doing vocals. I was just like ‘What?!’”

Having dropped video game soundtrack cover albums Hammer Games Vols 1 and 0 in 2015 and 2016 respectively, Mark had pedigree in the field, but he struggled to comprehend the opportunity for such a high-profile collaboration.

“This is the game that I bought as a 14-year-old when it first came out back in the year 2000,” he fishes out his original CD-ROM jewel case for an unsubtle flex, ​“and you’re asking me to write an official song to go with it? That in itself is mind-blowing. But to be able to do that with the greatest singer in Italian metal?! I thought it was some sort of strange spam at first. When I realised that it wasn’t, it became amazing on so many levels.”

Not a huge fan of YouTube (nor, presumably, of the hack-and-slash sub-genre), Cristina’s manager didn’t quite know what to make of the invitation. Fortunately, having followed one of Lacuna Coil’s old guitarists through a laptop screen and into Sanctuary all those years ago, and already a fan of Mark’s videos, she didn’t take much convincing.

“I was just like, ​‘Mark The Hammer? I follow him!’” she grins. ​“Then, when they told me the project was to write a song for Diablo II: Resurrected, I immediately said yes. If you look back at interviews that I did years ago, whenever they asked me what dream I had or what is missing from my body of work, I’ve always said that I’d like to write something for a video game. When this came along, it was like, ​‘Hello…’”

Cristina admits that she struggled with writer’s block over lockdown. Having watched her native Italy become one of the first countries crippled by the spread of COVID-19, she was unwilling to create music with the power to transport her back to those most troubled of times. Compared to the glacial pace of the music industry over the last 18 months, however, dropping in at crunch time in a massive game’s release schedule came as an invigorating change of pace. The first message exchanged between Cristina and Mark was on August 23, with the song due online to coincide with Diablo II: Resurrected’s launch exactly a month later.

“When you have a deadline, it can either throw you down or really speed everything up and add an excitement,” Cristina muses. ​“For us, it was definitely the latter. We were perhaps a little bit tense about not knowing each other. Any time you’re working with someone new, you ask yourself these questions: ​‘Is he going to be nice? Is he going to be an asshole? Is he going to have the same ideas that I have? The same creativity? The same speed?’

“As soon as we started to text, though, I realised that Mark was really relaxed, really funny. He’s like me. We would send and receive messages in the middle of the night, and get immediate replies. It was like we’d opened the floodgates on an ocean of ideas.”

A high level of fandom was pivotal. Diablo’s angels and monsters – Greater and Lesser Evils – seem like characters lifted from metal album covers to begin with, and the chaotic action that spills from the streets of Tristram and the slopes of Mount Arreat that go down into the depths of Hell could hardly be better suited to metalheads who’re never happier than when throwing down in the pit. Cristina and Mark’s preferred player classes – Sorceress and Barbarian, respectively – even mirror their onstage personas. To simply phone in the sort of crowd-pleasing banger either of these musicians could write in their sleep would be to do the project a deep disservice.

Cristina reckons that if Diablo were a band, it would be either Judas Priest – all OTT outfits, pointy edges and demonic imagery – or Rammstein, spewing sheer pyrotechnic bombast. Mark contends that the larger-than-life, battle-obsessed aesthetic of Iron Maiden might be a better match, pointing out that many of the most monstrous iterations of Ed The Head wouldn’t look out of place in its deepest dungeons. We’d argue that the ominous, folky atmospherics of peak Opeth even more closely evoke the playing experience, echoing Matt Uleman’s iconic original score.

In the same way that Diablo II: Resurrected marks an upgrade for players in 2021 while maintaining the original’s dark heart – dynamic lighting, three-dimensional rendering and high-definition presentation bringing the action sharply up to date – this song needed to pay respect while still packing enough heft to make an impact on metal fans in 2021.

“Diablo is such an iconic game,” nods Mark. ​“I knew the original score. I knew the original atmosphere. I knew where it had to go, more or less. But it was a challenge to make something new while paying respect to the original. There were parts where I wasn’t sure where I was going, but as soon as Cristina got really into the project and added her vocals, it felt like everything [clicked].”

“Mark’s involvement was crucial,” Cristina presses. ​“Looking at that original soundtrack, I was thinking, ​‘This is such a classic – it’s so iconic – but it’s not singable.’ It felt like putting a voice over the top would ruin it. But as soon as I heard the music that Mark had written, it changed everything. He made it singable. He created so many different parts, that offered so many different scenes, so many different moods. There are atmospheric parts, but there are also heavier parts. It’s like a journey, from beginning to end…”

Part sweeping re-score, part fan’s perspective love letter, part limb-swinging metal banger, the finished track feels like a striking bridge between worlds. Is the aim for fans who’ve yet to discover the pleasures of metal or gaming to be able to walk across it?

“The worlds of metal and gaming have always been strongly connected,” reckons Cristina, highlighting the fact that they’re both tightly-knit outsider communities fascinated by the dark and fantastical, which can appear intimidating to outsiders looking in. Although she and Mark will happily welcome new fans, the main priority was to write a great song, hopefully tightening the bond between communities that already exists. ​“It’s a lifestyle,” she gestures. ​“If you see a metalhead, there’s a strong chance you’ll be able to talk about games – or vice-versa.”

Indeed, the lines have increasingly blurred over the last couple of decades. Countless rockers found their way into the world via the legendary Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater soundtracks. The Guitar Hero franchise brought songs as unusual DragonForce​’s Through The Fire And The Flames, Lamb Of God​’s Laid To Rest and Slayer​’s Raining Blood – not to forget Lacuna Coil’s Closer – into the non-metalhead sphere. Celebrities as high profile as Tenacious D​’s Jack Black have spearheaded their own digital-metal crossovers, while Avenged Sevenfold​’s M. Shadows cropped up as a playable character in Call Of Duty: Black Ops 4. Gamers have even increasingly taken to wearing branded T‑shirts a la those of their favourite bands, enabling them to recognise each other on the street.

On the other side of the coin, bleeding-edge artists like The Armed, Refused and Run The Jewels have recently been inspired to write specifically for games. Svalbard​’s Serena Cherry just started a one-woman black metal side-project called Noctule, dedicated to her favourite epic RPG. Hell, Cristina even tells us that pounding compositions by djent-influenced video game soundtrack maestro Mick Gordon are amongst the most listened on her personal playlist.

It’s down to a change in perspective, Cristina reckons, where intelligent eye for detail is now considered every bit as cool as a debauched hell-raiser attitude. Games’ intricate storytelling and epic design are recognised as on par with the finest parts of cinema, and e‑sports competitions regularly boast larger prize pots than those of their athletic counterparts.

“I was always part of the nerd world,” she says, with more than a hint of vindication. ​“A few years ago, it felt like it was almost something to be ashamed of to admit that you’re a nerd, as if you had this weird, ridiculous aura. But now, everybody – all these people who were never interested – seem to want to be involved in this world. I [sometimes think], ​‘Nah, you need to prove you’re really into it…’”

She’s not kidding. As if that massive cache of gaming equipment – from the original PlayStation to countless Game Boys and computer components – wasn’t proof enough, Cristina has even appeared as playable character The Shadow Sorceress in Iron Maiden’s ever-evolving Legacy Of The Beast mobile game. ​“It was such an honour, such a pleasure to create my own character and give all the directions for the outfit, which was basically the outfit I was wearing on the last Lacuna Coil tour before lockdown,” she grins.

Going even geekier, Lacuna Coil also just launched their own Horns Up tabletop card game, where players must fight their way to the front of the stage. ​“It’s something we’re all really interested in, but particularly our bassist Maki [Coti Zelati],” Cristina continues. ​“Every card is related to metal clichés. We even gave our fans the opportunity to see themselves on one of the cards…”

Although Lacuna Coil maintained their high-drama presence with September 2020’s Black Anima: Live From The Apocalypse stream and June 2021’s live album of the same name, Cristina was keen to use the time off to introduce fans to her character away from the band, emboldened to set up her own channel on Twitch.

“I just wanted to learn new things which could enrich my baggage of knowledge,” she enthuses. ​“I’m already singing, already writing, but I don’t want to fixate on those. Life is made up of so many different things that can enrich my music and my creativity. I was already a Twitch user, watching other people play games, but I didn’t know what my purpose was. I almost felt scared at first. I am a singer. I am somehow an entertainer. I like to talk, which is clear. But it’s different when you’re talking to a lot of people for a couple of hours – or more!

“Eventually, I decided to keep it as informal as I could so that people could see how Cristina is at home. Cristina isn’t just the singer of Lacuna Coil: I have a house, I have a life, I have passions, I have my own personality. I just wanted people to discover that. Luckily they also like this quirky side of me, which feels like the opposite that dark goth lady that so many people know. As much as I didn’t have purpose in the beginning, there’s now such a strong community every time I go online – such a clean place to exchange good vibes!”

Even the persistent undertones of sexism and misogyny that have plagued gaming, she pushes, are a speed bump to be put in the rearview, comparable to what she experienced when first making her name in heavy music.

“In metal, I encountered the same problem,” she explains, bluntly. “[Women becoming a major presence in the community] was something new, and when something is new, people have suspicions and doubts. They don’t know how to deal with it. But there are a lot of female gamers now, and a lot of females in metal. It’s been normalised, which it should be, because games and metal are for everyone.”

As the world comes back up to speed, hectic schedules mean that attention is turning away from screens, and back towards studio and stage. Mark is churning out more and more top-class YouTube content. Cristina has a packed diary, with a tribute concert for late collaborator Franco Battiato at the spectacular Arena di Verona this week, and another secretive collaboration in the works, not to mention writing for Lacuna Coil’s 10th LP, which has just begun – her creative fires reignited by bringing Start Again to life.

Having dipped toes in the video game world, though, they’re both keen to return.

“I really hope we do,” Cristina says. ​“As a fan of video games, it’s such a great chance to bring together these different passions in your life. There are so many different things I’d like to do, and places I’d like to explore in this world, but time is limited!”

“I loved the challenge here, and the process of collaboration,” nods Mark. ​“If we could work together again when it comes time to make Diablo IV, that would be amazing. I’d love the opportunity to have my own playable character in an Iron Maiden video game, too, but I’m not sure that’s achievable!”

“I thought the same thing,” grins Cristina, ever adventurous, as we wave farewell. ​“Never say never!”

Diablo II: Resurrected is out now on Nintendo Switch, PS4, PS5, Xbox One, Xbox X/S and PC.

[idontgiveaflyinggrayson69]

Perfect

Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69​

Requested: Yes – Anonymous

Tagging: @going-full-shmoo​

Fandom: NHL  

Relationship: Established; Nolan Patrick x Reader

Song: Perfect by One Direction

Summary: You were at peace with him, like you had known him since you were young. With you, Nolan wasn’t a second overall pick or holding the future of the Philadelphia Flyers in his hands. He was home.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Alcohol

Ever since he was drafted second overall, Nolan felt the pressure. Everyone had expectations for him. He had to be good, had to prove everyone right, had to carry the weight of being drafted so high, even if he was still just a kid.

He was in the NHL at 18, playing against people who had been in the NHL longer than he had been alive. He was the face of the future for the entire franchise, a franchise with a rich history and a reputation.

That sort of pressure can do things to a person.

So, it really shouldn’t be a surprise that Nolan was more or less absent on social media, that he was quiet, always in the corner. When you’re carrying the weight of an entire city on your shoulders, all you really want to do is disappear. Be no one for a day or two, go back to when you were able to be you again.

And there was no one who made Nolan feel more like himself than you.

He distinctly remembers TK telling him that a party was not the place to meet a girl for anything longer than a night. The party scene was for fun and being able to enjoy the fame and pride of Philly. It was for drinking and celebrating, not for “lovely dovey horseshit,” as TK had said with a laugh and a shake of his head.

But that was how he met you.

They beat the Penguins. In regulation too. Everyone was so excited, so pumped up on adrenaline. Those were the kind of nights when they ended up on the town, bars or clubs, or a teammate somehow ended up being able to throw a legit party within ten minutes of the game being over. How someone could ever do that was beyond Nolan, but he just tried not to think about it. Somethings were better left unanswered.

Nolan let TK wrap his arm around his shoulder and tug him into the car. TK was driving, where to Nolan didn’t know. It was discussed in the locker room but he wasn’t paying attention, his mind was elsewhere, playing the game over and over in his head, going over his every shift. He didn’t even know they had arrived at their destination until TK gave his thigh a pat.

“You okay, Pat?” TK asked softly. Nolan was his best friend, and he was young. He wanted to make sure Nols was okay and not getting stuck in his head like he was known to do.

“Fine.” Nolan answered and got out the car.

Everything after that was a blur. It was a club. There were drinks in his hand. Shots. Beer. Something that was green. The music was pounding, he knew his teammates were dancing or drinking. There was a faint chug! Chug! Chug! in the background, but all he could think of was the fact that he had zero points on the night, and he was a whooping -3.

Everyone here was celebrating and he didn’t think there was anything to celebrate.

“Hey,” someone said, sliding into the booth across from him. He looked up, surprised to see someone he didn’t recognize: you.

“Hi?” He answered hesitantly. He really was not in the mood to deal with fans. He honestly didn’t think that he could deal with a fan right now, he just didn’t have the mental or emotional capability for it.

“Everyone here is having fun. Then there’s you.” You said to him with a twitch of your lips. If he was being honestly, that was probably the moment you had him. He was always able to play things off for his teammates, but somehow he was an open book to a complete stranger.

“Who said I wasn’t having fun?” He asked with a slight laugh.

“You’re sitting alone in a booth in the corner of the bar and every time one of your friends ask you to dance or whatever, you shrug them off.” You replied, giving him an honest smile.

“Are you stalking me?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

You shook your head with a laugh. “No, I’m just a woman in a bar feeling like how you look.”

The smile Nolan gave you was the first genuine smile he had given anyone all day. “Well, if you’re just a woman in a bar, then I guess I’m just a man in a bar.”

“I guess so,” you smiled.

You and Nolan spent the rest of the night talking, and by the end of it, you had exchanged numbers. You were “Girl from the bar” in his phone and he was “Guy from the bar” in yours.

You guys texted a lot. Like a lot. Every day for hours to be accurate. But, neither of you exchanged names, and you had no idea that the guy you spent the better part of your day talking to was a famous hockey player. All you knew was that he was fun to talk to, someone who got you, and someone who seemed to harbor a couple skeletons in his closet.

Eventually both of you shared your names and you realized who you were talking to. His profession or status didn’t mean anything to you and it didn’t change the way you talked to or treated Nolan, and that was like a weight lifted off his shoulders. After that, you guys met up in person a lot, but it was only ever to his place or yours.

You would just spend the evening on Nolan’s couch just laughing at what he was saying or whatever story he was telling. You were at peace with him, like you had known him since you were young. And Nolan felt the same way. With you, he wasn’t a second overall pick or holding the future of the Philadelphia Flyers in his hands. He was home.

He felt like Nolan.

The relationship between the two of you grew with time and it just felt right to take the step from friends to more. He had your heart from the first night in the bar. He took your breath away in a way you didn’t know possible, and you kept him steady and sure in a way he didn’t think a person could.

You were perfect for each other.

Yet, you were a secret. His teammates didn’t know about you, let alone the world. Your dates were take in, your rendezvous happened under the cover of night. You were his and his alone. It wasn’t that Nolan was ashamed of you or anything like that, it was that you were his island of silence in a sea of sound. You were his home, his place of comfort and peace. He couldn’t just throw you to the wolves the way he had been.

Between the way he felt about the way he was treated and how he saw the other WAGs were treated, he couldn’t do that to you. He couldn’t. So, all your time, love and troubles happened under the cover of night and behind the closed doors of his apartment.

And that was where you were now, behind the closed doors of his apartment. It was late, Nolan had a couple days off so you were spending them with him. It was March and the night was clear so you couldn’t help but open the windows to let the cool night breeze in.

You smiled to yourself as your skin broke out in goosebumps.

“Aren’t you cold?” Nolan asked softly when he came back into the living room and saw you by the window.

“No,” you answered honestly and closed your eyes to take in the noise of downtown Philadelphia. You couldn’t explain it, but the sound of the traffic and muffled conversations in the backgrounds were peaceful. And the breeze was welcoming after your day inside. “It’s a nice night.”

Nolan leaned on the wall and stayed quiet for a couple moments before he suggested something that caught you by surprise. “Do you want to go for a drive?”

“Hmm?” You asked, unsure if you had heard him. Nolan wasn’t one to go out if he didn’t have to, and he definitely wasn’t one to go out with you.

“Do you want to go for a drive? It is a nice night.” He said again, a smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah, yeah I think that would be nice.” You answered.

“Perfect.” He said and grabbed his keys, his arm going around your shoulders as the two of you left his apartment and headed to the garage.

There was no destination for your drive. It was Friday night and Nolan wasn’t playing Saturday and the weekend meant you didn’t have classes. So, you just got to spend time with Nolan as he drove through the streets of Philadelphia, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on your thigh.

The lights from building signs, bars, and street and traffic lights were a bright, welcome contrast to the darkness of the night and paired well with the soft hum of music coming from the radio. You couldn’t help but roll down the window. You and Nolan were both wearing hoodies, it wasn’t like it was too cold.

“What are you doing?” Nolan laughed, the florescent lights matching the happiness reflecting in his eyes. You smiled at him and stuck your hand out the window, feeling the cool air between your fingers as you drove. Your other hand moved to the stereo, turning the volume up.

“I’m being happy.” You replied before you started to sing along with the song on the radio.

Nolan turned to you for a second and in that moment he had everything he wanted. Everything he needed. He wasn’t Nolan Patrick, a rising star in the NHL, he wasn’t even hockey player, he was Nolan. Just Nolan.

And he was perfect.

[buckybarnesdollface]

Thought It’d Be Harmless

Summary: When work brings reader back to New York City, she has to face her lingering feelings for a certain supersoldier.

Based on "Sex (With My Ex)" by Fletcher

Warnings: Female Reader, Smut, Angst, not a happy ending

           Christmas in New York was just as I remembered it – Storefronts overflowing with holiday décor, trees and shrubs adorned with twinkling lights, and people pushing past each other, in a rush to get everything done before the big day. It had been a few years since I’d been in the city during Christmas, but an assignment I’d been sent on had brought me back. Growing up in London, I was used to extravagant holiday displays, but New York at Christmastime would always hold a special place in my heart.

           At the moment, though, it was neither my assignment nor the holidays that had me walking down Prospect Place in Brooklyn at dusk. The street was familiar – more familiar to me than it should have been – and my heart started beating faster as I neared my destination.

           He was standing outside the coffee shop waiting for me when I arrived, holding two to-go cups of coffee. He was dressed in jeans and a leather jacket over a plain gray t-shirt, barely enough to keep warm on a chilly December evening, if he had to worry about the cold. His face lit up with a brilliant smile when he saw me, and my heart flipped in my chest.

           “Hey,” Bucky greeted as I approached him. “I got your favourite – a hazelnut cappuccino.”

           He handed me one of the cups, and I tugged my bottom lip between my teeth. The fact that he insisted on meeting up at the place we’d had our first date and still remembered my coffee order should have annoyed me, but instead it had butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

           “Thanks,” I murmured, taking a sip and letting the hot liquid warm my insides. “I wasn’t sure you’d reach out, let alone know I was in town.”

           “Steve heard from Fury and told me,” Bucky replied, grin rueful. “It’s been awhile, I thought it’d be nice to catch up.”

           I nodded. “Right. So, did you wanna sit” – I gestured at the bistro tables outside the coffee shop – “or walk?”

           “You’ll stay warmer if we’re moving. Besides, I know how much you love Christmas in the city. I won’t deprive you of that.”

           A blush tinted my cheeks pink, but I fell into step with Bucky as we made our way down the street. Part of me knew this was a very bad idea, even seeing him, but a larger part squashed those thoughts. We were just two friends catching up; we’d keep the conversation light and carefully avoid anything to do with the past. As long as there were no expectations, it would be harmless.

           “So, how’s London?” Bucky asked as we walked. I shrugged.

           “It was always home to me, so it wasn’t much of an adjustment moving back.”

           I would have missed it had I not known him so well, but my eyes caught the way Bucky flinched at my words. I pursed my lips and shook my head.

           “I just meant that’s where I grew up –” I started, but Bucky cut me off.

           “I know what you meant, (Y/N); no need to explain.” He took a sip of his coffee – black, with two sugars, if my memory served me – and was silent a moment before speaking again. “So, the MI6," he said airily. “Must be quite the step up from S.H.I.E.L.D. You’re one of the elites now, like James Bond.”

           I snorted. “I see Sam has introduced you to another movie franchise.”

           Bucky’s grin was mischievous. “How do I know you aren’t undercover right now and trying to gather intel to take back to England?” he accused, and I arched a brow at him.    

           “You reached out to me, remember?” I pointed out. Bucky’s smile softened.

           “I did,” he agreed. “I missed you, (Y/N).”

           I froze. I shook my head, heart in my throat. “Bucky…”

           “I didn’t mean it like that, calm down. Can’t a friend tell another friend he’s missed her? We are friends, aren’t we?”

           The breath I’d been holding left my lungs in a whoosh, and I nodded dazedly. “Right. Yes. Of course. Friends,” I mumbled. Bucky gave me an inquiring look, brow furrowed and blue eyes boring into mine until I had to tear my gaze away. I took a sip of my cappuccino, fighting to steady my heart rate.

           “So, how’s the rest of the team?” I asked once I’d regained my composure. Bucky shrugged.

           “Nothing’s changed. Steve and Tony still bicker. Sam is still annoying as hell most of the time. Things are still awkward between Nat and Bruce. You know, the usual.”

           “I miss everyone,” I admitted, and Bucky’s smile was soft and sad.

           “They miss you, too, doll. You always had a way of bringing everyone together, even when we were all tired and cranky and ready to throttle each other.”

           His words left a tightness in my chest, and I frowned. We were encroaching on a dangerous topic, and if I didn’t steer the conversation elsewhere, we’d be opening a can of worms I wasn’t prepared to deal with. I forced a smile onto my face, and pointed to a group of Christmas carollers down the street.

           “Look, how wonderful!” I exclaimed, and before Bucky could say anything, I was already halfway down the street.

           It was easier than I thought to keep conversation light. We talked about our plans for Christmas, my family, the difference in weather between New York and London, and other things that two friends catching up would talk about. I had forgotten how easily conversation flowed between Bucky and I, and it wasn’t long before the tension had melted from my body and I was enjoying his company without feeling anxious.

           “You’re cold,” Bucky pointed out as I shoved my hands into the pockets of my wool peacoat.

           “Maybe a little,” I admitted, and with a frown Bucky took a gentle hold of my arm and pulled me into the nearest building.

           We were immediately met with warmth, and I shivered in relief. He had pulled us into a cozy little pub, Christmas lights lining the windows and the bar, and Frank Sinatra crooning White Christmas drifted through the air and mingled with the chatter of the bar patrons. The air smelled of beer, whiskey, and hickory smoke, and I couldn’t help but think it reminded me of the pubs back home in England.

           “How about I buy you a drink?” Bucky suggested. I pursed my lips, hesitant.

           “I really shouldn’t; it’s getting late and I have a flight to catch early tomorrow morning…” I started, but Bucky shook his head.

           “It’s just one drink, (Y/N),” he insisted. “What’s the harm? It’s still early in the night, you’ll have plenty of time to prepare for your flight tomorrow.” He paused, giving me his best wide-eyed puppy dog look – the one I had always been powerless against. I glared half-heartedly at him with a shake of my head.

           “Don’t give me that look!” I cried. “You know I’ve never been able to resist it.”

           “Exactly,” he replied with a smirk. “So, one drink?”

           “One drink,” I ceded, and Bucky grinned triumphantly as he dragged me to the bar. He ordered two Greyhounds and we settled on a couple of the barstools. “You remembered,” I murmured, taking a sip of the grapefruit and gin cocktail. Bucky grinned.

           “Does that surprise you?”

           I shook my head. “No, considering enhanced memory is one of the side effects of the supersoldier serum.”

           Bucky shrugged. “Or maybe I just paid attention.”

           Feeling my cheeks heating, I lifted the glass to my mouth and took a larger sip. The alcohol was smooth as it warmed my throat. I set the glass back down on the bar, fingertips tracing the rim as I spoke.

           “I’m going to miss New York,” I admitted, my gaze focused over Bucky’s shoulder at the window overlooking the street. “I was ecstatic when they told me my next assignment was here.”

           “So stay a little longer,” Bucky replied. “Tell them you need more time –”

           “It doesn’t work like that,” I said with a shake of my head. “I’m on a tight schedule. Plus, if I didn’t come home for Christmas, I’m positive my parents would kill me.”

           Bucky grinned. “I always was a little afraid of your father,” he admitted, and I snorted.

           “And it always amused me that the Winter Soldier was afraid of a university professor that wears tweed jackets.”

           “An Oxford University professor,” Bucky defended. “He’s so intelligent and so proper, it was intimidating. He always had a way of making me feel like I wasn’t good enough for you.”

           I frowned. “You know that’s not true,” I said quietly, and Bucky’s smile was sad.

           “Even so, we didn’t work out for a reason, huh?”

           As he looked at me, blue eyes piercing and lips quirked up the tiniest bit at one corner, I had a hard time remembering what that reason was. He was so handsome and charming, and we got on so easily, it made it difficult to remember all the sleepless nights and fights that ended in tears or one of us storming out. Or maybe I just didn’t want to remember how poorly we handled our disagreements.

           Shaking my head, I downed the rest of my drink, and I didn’t even notice when the bartender switched my empty glass for a full one. I took another long gulp and then cocked my head to the side. Bucky was regarding me with an unreadable expression.

           “What?” I asked.

           “Nothing. You.”

           I wrinkled my nose. “What is that supposed to mean?”

           “I’m proud of you,” he murmured, and my brow furrowed deeper as a blush crept up my neck. He continued, voice soft. “I know Fury wasn’t the easiest on you while you were with S.H.I.E.L.D., but you always held your own and proved yourself, and now…Well, you’re an SIS agent, and a damned good one at that.” He grinned at my confused expression. “Yes, we’ve heard of some of your accomplishments. Word gets around in the intelligence community.”

           I chose my words carefully. “Thank you,” I told him. “I know you didn’t always agree with me being out in the field, so it’s nice to hear you support me.”

           “I’ve always supported you, doll. I just hated the thought of anything happening to you while in the field.” Bucky’s lips twitched. “You’ve proved time and time again, though, that you can handle yourself. I’m glad you’re finally doing something that makes you happy, even if it means you’re halfway across the world.”

           I finished my second drink before speaking, letting the alcohol provide the confidence I surely wouldn’t possess otherwise. “You should have known if I could keep up with you in the bedroom, I could handle a few idiots with guns,” I said with a smirk, and to my satisfaction Bucky’s eyes widened before narrowing.

           “Careful, doll,” he said in a low voice, eyes sparkling. “You’re starting to fall back into old habits.”

           “And what would that be? Proving that it takes absolutely nothing to have you itching to tear my clothes off?”

           For a moment we were silent, the air between us thick and heavy, and then Bucky was laughing, a deep sound rumbling from his chest. “Ah, you have no idea how much I missed this,” he chuckled. “No one has ever been able to banter with me like you. You always did challenge me, (Y/N).”

           I grinned as I accepted a third drink from the bartender. “Someone’s got to keep you on your toes,” I teased, and Bucky grinned into his own drink.

           “You look amazing, by the way,” he murmured after a few moments. “I meant to say that earlier.”

           I blushed. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Sergeant,” I replied, lips quirked into a smile. “You cut your hair.”

           Bucky’s cheeks were dusted pink as he ducked his head, running his flesh hand over his short, dark locks. “Yeah, I figured it was time for a change. Mostly I was tired of Sam calling me Axl Rose.” He grinned ruefully. “I know you always liked it long, though…”

           I shook my head. “No, I kinda like it short,” I insisted, truthfully. “It looks good. Makes you look younger.”

           “As young as someone almost a hundred and four can look, you mean,” he chuckled, and I giggled.

           “Don’t sell yourself short, Barnes; you don’t look a day over ninety-five.”

           Bucky cocked a dark eyebrow. “Ouch. Your words cut deep, doll.”

           I giggled again. Somehow, our bodies had gravitated closer to each other until I could see the gray mixed in with the blue of his irises, illuminated by the Christmas lights. The soft buzz of alcohol flowed through my veins, leaving me feeling warm and giddy, and I lifted a hand to lightly touch the short strands of hair framing Bucky’s face.

           “Y’know, I always liked your long hair because I could run my fingers through it,” I murmured, “but I guess it’d be just as easy to do it now.” I carded my fingertips through his short locks, and Bucky’s eyes drifted shut.

           “Feels nice,” he mumbled, and I grinned as my fingers curled in his hair and tugged with just the slightest bit of force. Bucky’s eyes snapped open, the blue-gray swallowed almost entirely whole by black. I felt my heart leap to my throat as a slow smirk curved my lips upward.

           “Good to know I can still do that, too,” I murmured, and a low growl rumbled deep in Bucky’s chest.

           “Don’t go startin’ somethin’ you aren’t prepared to finish, doll,” he warned, and I hesitated. This is exactly what I hadn’t wanted to happen – But the way he was looking at me right now reminded me so much of the way he used to look at me that it simultaneously had my stomach fluttering with butterflies and my core flooding with heat.

           “Fuck it,” I muttered, and then I downed the rest of drink number three before standing. “How close is your place from here?”

           Two blocks. Not far at all, but as Bucky led me down the street, flesh hand tight around mine, my heart hammered against my ribcage and my entire body ached in anticipation. He tugged me up three flights of stairs in a prewar apartment building, stopping outside a large wooden door and pulling a set of keys from his pocket. He was quick to unlock the door, and once we were inside, he wasted no time in kicking the door closed and pulling me into his arms.

           Bucky’s lips searched out mine like magnets, and the second they connected I melted into his embrace. It felt like a homecoming, like I was returning to my place of comfort after being away for so long. His kiss was soft and sensual, his lips warm and plush against mine, but I craved more and my teeth dragged teasingly over his bottom lip. Bucky growled, and then his tongue slipped into my mouth until we were sharing breaths. He had backed me into the wall and his hands were unbuttoning my coat as my fingers hooked into the beltloops of his jeans to hold him tight to me. He peeled off my coat and shrugged out of his leather jacket before sliding his arms under my thighs and lifting me so my legs wrapped around his torso.

           He carried me through the apartment to his bedroom, lips attacking mine, and when I was back on my feet, he was quick to rid me of my sweater. His eyes landed on the red lacy bra I wore and he licked his lips, gaze predatory.

           “Just as perfect as I remembered,” he murmured, and then his hands cradled my face as his lips crashed back to mine. My hands slipped under his t-shirt, and I revelled in the way his muscles tightened and contracted under my fingertips. My legs hit the edge of the bed and then I was on my back on the mattress, and Bucky was pulling off my boots before his fingers hooked into the waistband of my leggings. He tugged them and my underwear off my hips in one swift motion, leaving my dripping heat on full display.

           “Christ, doll, look at you,” he breathed in awe, and I wiggled my hips impatiently.

           “Touch me,” I demanded breathlessly. I expected him to torment me; Bucky Barnes had never been one to take orders in the bedroom. But he only growled as his hands spread my thighs further apart.

           “This what you need, baby girl?” he rasped, and then his tongue delved into my folds and licked up from my entrance to my clit at an agonizing pace. I gasped, back arching off the mattress as my eyes scrunched shut.

           “Fuck, I missed your mouth,” I whined. “You’re so fucking good with it.”

           I could feel Bucky grin into my heat as he devoured me, and in no time at all I was a keening, writhing mess under his ministrations. As his tongue swirled around my clit, he dipped two thick fingers into my heat, pumping them in and out slowly. The sensations were overwhelming – Neither myself nor the handful of men I’d been with since the breakup had managed to make me feel half as good as he was right now, with just his mouth and his hands. I whimpered, feeling myself teetering on the edge of release.

           “Come for me, baby girl,” Bucky murmured into my core, fingertips searching out my most sensitive part inside me. My hips bucked and my hands fisted in the bedsheets as I moaned shamelessly. “That’s it, let go. Wanna taste how sweet you are when you come on my tongue.”

           His words pushed me over the edge, and my orgasm exploded white-hot as I cried out his name, fingers tangling in his hair. Bucky growled into my core, fingers slowing as his tongue lapped hungrily at my release. Once he was satisfied he had sufficiently cleaned me up, he crawled up my body and kissed me languorously, making sure I tasted myself on his tongue.

           “Sweet as honey,” he murmured against my throat as he pulled away. “Still my favourite taste.”

           My legs were still shaky post-orgasm, but I was able to hook them around Bucky’s and flip us over so he was on his back and I was straddling him. His eyes rounded as my fingers deftly unbuckled his belt and popped the button of his jeans, tugging at the waistband. He lifted his hips and I yanked them down his legs, revealing the prominent bulge in the front of his black boxer briefs.

           “Mmm, is that for me, Sergeant?” I murmured, palming him through the thin fabric of his underwear, and Bucky’s head fell back on the mattress as a hiss passed through his clenched teeth.

           “’Course it is,” he managed to rasp. “Always been yours, baby girl, you know that.”

           My hand stilled, and I met his eyes. He was wrecked, but his eyes were lucid and boring into mine with a burning intensity as well as a vulnerable honesty that he rarely displayed. Stop, the rational part of my brain was screaming, before you get too far into this and can’t get out. But something deeper and more instinctual nudged me on, insisting that the look Bucky was giving me now was everything I had been missing in my life for the past year. He was mine. He was always meant to be mine. And I was going to remind him of that.

           I peeled off his boxer briefs, and his cock sprang free, hot and hard and leaking precum. I wrapped my hand around his length, swiping my thumb over the tip, and Bucky grunted as his hips rutted up into my touch. I couldn’t help the grin that spread my lips. It was satisfying to know I still held this power over him.

           I leaned in to swipe my tongue along the underside of his shaft before my lips enveloped his tip, tongue swirling around, and he groaned, flesh hand coming up to gather my hair away from my face.

           “Just like that, doll, fuck,” he panted, until I’d taken nearly all of him in my mouth – Which was a feat, considering his more-than-above-average size. I could feel tears sting my eyes as he hit the back of my throat, and I eased off a bit and hollowed out my cheeks as I bobbed my head along his length. His entire body was taut, like a live wire, but before I could get him to snap, his hands were gently pulling my face away from him. I looked up at him with confusion furrowing my brow.

           “Why…” I started, but he grinned and pulled me up to kiss me thoroughly.

           “As much as I love your mouth, doll, I wanna be inside you when I come,” he murmured, and my walls clenched in anticipation. Bucky’s hands deftly removed my bra and he yanked his t-shirt over his head, leaving us completely bare as our hands explored each other’s bodies, recommitting every curve and plane to memory.

           Rolling us over, Bucky hovered above me as he kissed me dizzy. Lining himself up with my entrance, he paused, searching my eyes with his.

           “Tell me to stop,” he breathed. I shook my head, rolling my hips up until he slipped into me.

           Bucky groaned, and I let out a high-pitched whine as my hands clutched at his waist desperately. It had always amazed me how well he filled me, his thickness stretching my walls until the line between pain and pleasure was blurred, the tip of his cock pressed snugly against my cervix when he was fully sheathed inside me. As if we were made for each other. And in this moment, fire burning through my veins and my breath catching in my throat as he shifted just the tiniest bit, I wasn’t convinced we weren’t made for each other.

           We exploded like fire and gasoline, falling quickly into a rhythm like no time had passed since the last time we’d gotten lost in each other. Bucky’s hips rutted into me hard and deliberate as his mouth claimed mine in a devastatingly fierce kiss, and it was all I could do not to entirely lose myself in the sensation of being completely consumed by him, nails raking down the heated skin of his back as my hips eagerly rolled up to meet his every thrust.

           Bucky’s grip on my hips was bruising, but I would gladly carry his marks with me for days to come, as a reminder of how foolish we had ever been to think we could live without each other.

           “(Y/N)…” he rasped, breath hot on my face, and I opened my eyes to find his face just millimetres from mine. Though his lust-blown pupils had nearly swallowed whole his irises, they still managed to burn as he held my gaze, and I could feel my heart in my throat under his heat. I tilted my head to catch his lips, and he kissed me like he was speaking to me without words.

           The coil in my belly tightened, and I could tell Bucky was close, too, by the way his thrusts had gotten sloppier. His flesh hand had slipped into mine, fingers interlacing above our heads as my free hand carded through the hair at the nape of his neck. I held his face to mine, short breaths escaping our lips and mingling in the short distance between us. Bucky’s hips stuttered, and I clenched around him, causing him to twitch inside me as he let out a guttural groan. I whimpered, my own release crashing over me as I felt him paint my insides with his seed.

           Neither of us moved for a moment, trying to catch our breaths, and then Bucky nudged my nose with his affectionately and I titled my head up to press my lips to his. He kissed me, tender and sweet, and when he cradled me to him and rolled us over into the pillows, I didn’t put up a fight, letting my post-orgasm haze drift over me as I started to doze off with my head pillowed on Bucky’s chest and his arms secured tight around me.

           By the time I woke up, the sun had just started to peek over the horizon. I was still curled against Bucky’s side, his hand warm against my hip. The brevity of the situation hit me all at once, weighing heavy on my chest as a lump began to form in my throat. I’d just had sex. With my ex. In an apartment in New York City. All the progress I’d made moving past my feelings and getting over how broken-hearted the breakup had left me, shattered, in one moment of weakness. All my feelings for Bucky had rushed back to the surface, reminding me just how in love and obsessed we’d been with each other, and now all I could think of was how I was right back where I’d started, knowing I had to let him go, but working myself into a mess at the mere thought of it.

           Sensing I was awake, Bucky’s fingertips traced circles over my bare flesh, raising goosebumps as he pressed a soft kiss to the crown of my head. I knew I should get up; I had a flight to catch in a few hours. All I wanted, though, was to bury myself further in Bucky’s embrace – Just one more night with him, one more night pretending that falling back into bed with him wasn’t the worst thing I could have done.

           Biting back tears, I pulled myself away from Bucky, sitting up and holding the covers to my chest. His body followed mine, his lips brushing over my shoulder blade.

           “You’re not leaving so soon, are you?” he murmured. “We still have time…”

           I shook my head. “We can’t,” I said quietly.

           “Of course we can, doll. You have plenty of time to get to the airport.”

           “No.” I turned my head to look at him, ignoring the way my heart fluttered at how cute he looked all mussed-up and sleepy. “What are we doing, James?”

           This caught him off-guard; I rarely called him by his given name. “What do you mean?” he asked slowly.

           “What are we doing?” I repeated. “Why did you reach out to me?”

           Bucky’s brow furrowed. “Because I missed you. I wanted to see you, (Y/N) –”

           I cut him off. “That’s just it. I missed you too, but where does this get us? Like you said earlier, we didn’t work out for a reason. We can’t do this and expect to not end up in the mess we were before.” I shook my head, eyes glassy. “I was back in my feelings the moment I saw you, Bucky, and now…Now I’m losing my mind thinking of walking out that door, but we both know I have to.”

           I couldn’t meet his eyes; I knew the heartbroken expression that would be etched into his beautiful face, and I knew that one look and my resolve would crumble.

           “(Y/N)…” he whispered, but I could tell by the defeated tone in his voice he knew I was right.

           “If I stay any longer, I’ll feel like I’m losing you twice. I can’t put myself nor you through that again – It was hard enough the first time,” I said quietly as I slipped out of bed and started redressing. Bucky sat, silent and motionless, until I’d laced up my boots. He jumped out of bed, tugging on a pair of sweatpants and following me out to the front door. He bit his lip as I shrugged on my coat. His hands stilled mine as I went to button it up, and I looked up at him, heart hammering against my ribcage and knees weak.

           “I don’t ever want there to be hard feelings between us,” he murmured as he buttoned my coat for me, and I shook my head.

           “Me either.” My voice was small.

           “I love you, (Y/N). I always have, and I always will. But you’re right; we have to let each other go.”

           Blinking back tears, I pulled his face down to mine in a goodbye kiss. He held me tight to him, and when we pulled apart his eyes were as glassy as mine. I reached up to trace my fingertips lightly along his jaw.

           “Goodbye,” I whispered, and then I was out the door.

           Later, as I sat in my seat and the plane took off, I looked out the window with tears in my eyes, saying goodbye forever to that New York apartment where I’d left my heart. Goodbye forever, until next time. Because I knew every time Bucky called me, I’d pick up and fall right back into my feelings for him, consequences be damned.

[bitchloveskcbaseball]

Stitches

Pairing: Logan x OC (Charlotte Wheeler)

Summary: Charlotte is surprised by a face from her past and doesn’t know what to do about it.

Warnings: Really really strong language (my girl has a filthy mouth lol), car accident and a flash back to Detective Wheeler holding a gun at Logan.

Word Count: 7822 (this is literally the longest single piece I’ve ever finished)

Disclaimer: Logan and Detective Wheeler belong to Pixelberry and Charlotte is based off of the RoD MC

A/N: This is my contribution to @rodappreciationweek for Logan (obviously lol). The name comes from Shawn Mendes’s Stitches, mostly because I got some serious inspiration of how I wanted this to go when I was really really stuck from listening to it. Also, there are parts of that song that seem really relevant to this story. 

Also, I borrowed the names of a few characters from the Fast and Furious franchise, but they appear in name only.

How soon can you get here?

Rolling her eyes at the text despite the fact that he'd never see it, Charlotte typed out a quick response. Told you earlier…not coming tonite

I need you here.

I am not comin all the way down there just to fill out your field.

Seconds later, her phone started to ring and she debated letting it go to voicemail, but knew she'd never hear the end of it if she did. Swiping across the screen to answer, Charlotte snipped, "Seriously, Paul?"

"Hear me out, Lottie. There's fresh blood here tonight and he's lookin’ for a race."

"You know I don't -- "

"He's talkin’ 10k."

She was so stunned that it took her several beats before she muttered, "You shittin' me?"

Paul let out a humorless laugh and replied, "Not in the slightest. But he says he'll only race you."

"Me? How the fuck does he even know who I am if he's new?"

"Well he didn't ask for you by name or anything. He just told me he heard about this girl that hasn't lost a race in the past year. Said if I could set up a race with her he'd put down the 10k."

"Shit. Um…can you buy me like twenty minutes?"

"Anything for you, Lottie. And that 10k, of course."

After hanging up without so much as a goodbye to Paul, Charlotte raced around, grabbing her keys and wallet before running out to her most prized and precious possession. It was one of the very few items she still had left from Los Angeles, but even it had changed since then. The 2015 Stuttgart 999 Widow that had once been a bold blue was now painted in a deep royal purple with lime green accenting the sleek lines she loved so much. She took a few extra minutes in the garage, quickly running through her pre-race checklist before sliding behind the steering wheel.

Eighteen minutes after her call with Paul ended, Charlotte was pulling up to the starting line. The crowd, which was always large, loud and intense for Paul's races, was even more electric than normal as everyone buzzed over the unusually high stakes that had been thrown down by the newcomer. The fact that he was driving a Devore GT probably didn't hurt either.

Shoving away the sharp pang she felt deep in her gut every time she saw one of those cars, she cut the engine off and climbed out to go greet Paul. Since there were literally hundreds, if not over a thousand, pairs of eyes on them, Charlotte just gave him a fist bump in greeting, knowing she couldn’t afford to have anyone there thinking she got special treatment just because of their close friendship.

"There's my girl!"

“Oh shove it Paul. You know I hate it when you call me that.”

“Why do you think I still do it? Especially before a race?” When she only narrowed her eyes at him, Paul took the hint and got down to business. "You got the dough?"

Charlotte scoffed, "When do I not?"

"Hey, you know I gotta ask." Holding his hand out, Paul just smirked as she laid the thick envelope in his hand.

"Don't get too used to that feeling. You know you gonna be handing all that plus another stack back to me in a few."

Despite the way his brows knitted together and he shook his head in her direction, Paul didn't say anything in response, much to her surprise, as he made his way over to her competitor. Usually she got at least one reminder to not get ahead of herself or get over confident, but she couldn't say she was disappointed to miss out on that.

Rolling her shoulders to release the last of the tension her rushed departure and drive had caused, she turned around to return to her car and felt her breath catch as her eyes landed on the stranger. Not that he was actually a stranger. At least not in the purest sense of the word. What in the hell is he doing here?  Charlotte stood, frozen, for what felt like hours but was really only a few seconds before her brain finally jump-started itself. Pulling her gaze away from the all-too familiar face, she forced herself to focus on steadying her breathing and mentally running through the course pattern - basically anything she could do to keep her mind off of him.

"Hey, Lottie! You ready girl?"

Bristling, she barely bit back the string of curse words she wanted to unleash on Paul as she plastered on her fakest smile and eased down into the driver's seat. Voice dripping with sugar, she answered, "Always."

Devilish grin breaking out across his face, Paul turned his attention back to the Devore and hollered, "How 'bout you, new guy?"

Shit. Realizing the last thing she needed before a twenty thousand dollar race was his voice haunting her, Charlotte hastily reached up to turn the keys but ended up almost knocking them out of the ignition. Double shit. The second attempt was slightly better, her fingers actually closing around the keys this time, but her hand was shaking so bad that she couldn't get them to turn. For fuck's sake, Charlotte. Get your shit together and calm the fuck down! After taking a deep breath to center herself, the third attempt was successful and she let out a sigh of relief as the loud roar of the performance engine surrounded her.

"Ok y'all! One minute 'til that flag drops!"

Charlotte released a shaky breath and tightened her hands around the steering wheel. Normally, this minute was Charlotte’s favorite with the delicious anticipation thrumming through her veins and the deep rumble of the powerful engine beneath her finding perfect synchronicity. But this time it was torture. It was taking every single ounce of self-control she possessed to keep her focus on the street ahead of her, on the task in front of her. She shook herself, trying to ease the tension in her body. She’d never be able to beat him if she didn’t loosen up, and she sure as hell was not losing to that fucker. Never again.

After what seemed like an eternity, Paul was stepping back up to the line, flag in hand. Taking one last, deep-cleansing breath, she felt everything but the road melt away as his hand went in the air. This was the one thing she could always count on. This was her one, true escape and she would not let him ruin it.

Just like the hundreds of times before over the past year, as soon as the flag dropped, Charlotte effortlessly worked her way up the gears, shooting out to the lead. If she had been in tune with her beautiful beast before leaving L.A., then they were basically one being – one machine – now. This track was a set up that Paul hadn’t used since her very first race out here, and the irony didn’t escape her. Knock it the fuck off, Charlotte. Focus. You have to win this race.

Throughout the whole race, there he was, right off her back bumper, his Devore GT – now a deep blue – haunting her, much like his memory had since he’d left her crying on her dad’s front lawn. A couple of times he even inched ahead, but these were her streets and she instinctively knew the perfect places to use to regain her advantage. Even with that knowledge, they were so close together when they crossed the line that she wasn’t actually sure which one of them won until Paul came up and pulled her into a tight hug with a huge smile on his face.

“Damn, Troublem -- ”

Pulling away from Paul, Charlotte whirled around, eyes shooting icy daggers. “Don’t you fucking dare! You do not get to fucking call me that anymore, asshole.”

“Whoa… Char --”

“Not that either, Logan. You don’t get to call me anything. I don’t even know why you think you get to talk to me.”

“C’mon now. Don’t be like this.” If Charlotte hadn’t known better, she’d have thought Logan was actually begging her.

“Don’t be like what? You made your choice and this is mine! I dunno what the hell you’re doing here and I honestly don’t give a fuck. Unless you are looking for a free facial arrangement, I’d suggest you keep yourself far out of my sight until you leave.”

Without giving him a chance to respond, she turned back to Paul and, ignoring the questions swirling in his eyes, held out her hand. Forcing a calm she didn’t quite feel into her voice, she arched an eyebrow and sassed, “I think you owe me a huge stack of cash, mister. And at least a couple of milkshakes.”

Scrunching up his face as he placed the money in her hand, he parroted, “Milkshakes?”

“It’s the least you can do after calling me ‘girl’ twice tonight.”

Hands up in surrender, Paul conceded, “Milkshakes it is.”

After a half an hour of avoiding Logan while Paul finished up for the night and then another half an hour of racing across the city towards Charlotte’s favorite all-night diner, the pair was finally settling into her favorite booth across from each other. Before she could really get comfortable, however, he started hurtling questions at her. “So that was the Logan? What’s he doin’ here? Why didn’t you tell me he was here? How -- “

“Paul!” His rambling having ceased, Charlotte raised an eyebrow and asked, “You do realize I can only answer your questions if you actually let me talk, right?”

“Yeah, yeah...Technicalities.”

Rolling her eyes, she sighed, “Well, which one do you want me to answer first?”

“Was that really…”

“Yes. That was the Logan, as you put it. And in answer to the follow up, I have no idea why he’s here. I wouldn’t have even known he was in town if you hadn’t called me down for that friggin’ race.”

“Hon, I’m so sor -- “

Waving his apology off, Charlotte reassured, “I’m fine, Paul. Really. Sure it threw me a little bit when I first saw him, but beating his ass like that sure helped. Yelling at him didn’t hurt either.”

As Paul’s brows furrowed, she could tell that he didn’t believe her even before he asked, “You sure?”

Ignoring the way her chest still felt like someone had tied a rope around her heart, she smiled. “Absolutely. Plus I’m ten grand richer for it.” She waited until his expression had relaxed slightly before changing the subject by prodding, “You gonna order my milkshake or do I hafta revoke your best friend card for leaving me hanging like this?”

With a chuckle and a shake of his head, Paul stuck his hand up in the air to call the waitress over to their table. Taking advantage of his distraction, Charlotte let out a quiet sigh. If only she could convince herself as easily as she did him that Logan’s appearance hadn’t affected her.

~-~-~-~-~-~-

"Be the real you. The one that was always waiting to come out."

Choked by the tears she was trying to hold back, Charlotte whispered, "I don't know how to be her without you."

Reaching up to run his fingers through the hair at her temple, Logan insisted, "Yes, you do. You've always had this strength inside of you. I saw it that very first time we met. You just needed a little help finding it."

"No, I don’t! I need you. I need you to stay!"

"You know I can't stay, Charlotte. No matter how much I wish I could, I can't put you at risk like that."

"Then take me with you!"

"Baby... That's not the life for you."

"The only life I need is with you!"

He pulled her against his chest and Charlotte instinctively tucked her face into the crook of his neck, fisting her hands in the front of his shirt. Dropping his head so his lips were brushing over her ear, he whispered, "No. You deserve so much more. You deserve a real life and that can't include me. I was just a rock in space lucky enough to burn up in your atmosphere for a moment."

"No. You are so much more than that!"

"No, I'm not, Troublemaker. Not really. But I'll never regret a single second I spent with you. Even if I hate how it all started -- how I lied to you -- it gave me all of this precious time. I'd never trade that for anything."

While she was desperately searching for something, anything she could say to change his mind, to convince him to take her with him, Logan pressed a kiss to her temple. "I love you, Charlotte. So much."

"Then take me - " Senses on high alert after all of the drama of the night, Charlotte froze when she heard a slight rustling coming from behind Logan. Raising her head to look over his shoulder, Charlotte locked eyes with her father who was standing there with his gun trained on Logan's back. "Dad! Don't!"

"Shut up, Charlotte. This is between me and the thug."

"No, Dad! It's not - "

"Shh, baby. It's ok." Gently pushing against her shoulders, Logan separated himself from her before turning to face her father. Even without being able to see his face, she could feel the resignation rolling off of him.

"Logan...Don’t..."

"Charlotte, go inside. Now."

"Not until you put that fucking gun away. You don’t fucking need it. He isn’t a threat. To you and especially not to me."

His eyes flicking back to hers for the briefest of seconds, she saw her father's shoulders slump with his silent sigh as he dropped his arms to his side. His gaze hardened as he hissed, "You have ten seconds."

"Dad!"

Logan turned back to her, cupping her cheek to force her gaze back to his own. Running his thumb underneath her eye to catch the stray tear that had escaped, he leaned down and brushed a ghost of a kiss across her lips. He gave her hip a gentle squeeze before pulling away from her and walking back to his Devore GT. There was a moment of total quiet after he slid inside it and hope sparked within Charlotte. He’s waiting for me. But before she could take a step in that direction, the engine roared to life and he peeled off down the street. The tears she'd been fighting all night finally broke free, pouring down her face and tearing sobs from her chest, as she stared after the man and machine she'd come to love with her entire heart until she couldn't see the taillights any more.

Despite the agony ripping through her heart, an intense fury flooded her veins and she whirled around on her father.

"What the actual fuck is wrong with you?"

"With me? You better watch your tone, girl."

No longer giving a shit about who heard or saw them, Charlotte shrieked, "Yes, with you! He was already leaving! You'd gotten your goddamn wish already! Why? Why did you have to pull a fucking gun on him? Why couldn't you just let me say goodbye?"

"He's a goddamn criminal, Charlotte! You don't need to say goodbye to him. You should never have been spending time with him in the first place. I raised you better than that!"

"No. You didn't raise me. You tried to control me. You tried to keep me in a little box. To keep me from ever growing up. From ever making one goddamn decision on my own. You never gave a shit about what I wanted. Never even fucking listened to me."

"Don't you dare - "

"Oh shut up! I'm done. I'm done with you treating me like a fucking puppet. I'm done with you trying to control everything I do. I'm fucking done with you."

"If you are going to live under my roof -- "

"God, don't you get it? I'm not. I'm not going to spend time with you. I'm not going to live with you. I'm not going to talk to you. I'm done with you. For good."

Charlotte bolted upright as she tore herself from the dream, tears streaming down her face. It had been over six months since she’d last been forced to face that memory by her subconscious and she’d foolishly believed it wouldn’t happen again. Of course, she also hadn’t anticipated finding herself face to face with Logan ever again, so it was really just a series of miscalculations that had led her to this point.

She took a shuddering breath as she tried to stem the flow of tears, unwelcome flashes of that day still rolling through her mind. True to her word, it had been the last time she’d spoken to her father -- she’d stayed with Riya while she waited for her car’s repairs to be finished so she could head east -- and she couldn’t say that she regretted it at all. 

Logan, on the other hand, was a much more painful subject. All she had wanted those first few months after he’d raced out of her life was to chase him down. To convince him that being with him wasn’t ruining her life, but rather giving her everything she’d never known she’d needed. But she had no idea where he’d gone and didn’t have a damned clue as to how she would go about finding out. So she forced her way into the racing scene out here instead, using the time behind the wheel and under the hood to give herself an escape from all the thoughts and emotions swirling within her. 

All of her time spent begging her way into races also meant she ended up spending a lot of time around Paul, which was how they ended up forming such a tight bond. Even still, she couldn’t seem to really let him in, only telling him the bits and pieces he needed to understand why she was the way she was. By some miracle, that was enough for him, and he’d been there for her ever since, putting her back together when she shattered, talking her down when she raged. Despite the walls she kept between them, somehow this friendship had become even deeper than the one she’d once shared for so long with Riya.

Reaching a shaking hand out towards her nightstand, she grabbed her phone to call Paul. Despite how late it was, it only took two rings before she heard his voice, thick with sleep, rumbling in her ear. “‘S wrong, hon?”

Throat clogged by tears, Charlotte’s voice was wobbly as she only managed to force out, “It -- it was that dream.”

“I’m on my way.”

“No...no...don’t do that.”

“Lottie -- “

“Paul. I “ -- Charlotte let out a deep sigh -- “I don’t need you to come over. Just...just talk to me for a bit. Take my mind off of it.”

Not bothering to disguise his doubt, Paul asked, “You sure? I can be there in like fifteen minutes this time of night.”

“I’m sure. I just need a distraction.”

“So, you weren’t really okay with him just showing up like that, huh?”

“Paul.”

“What?”

“That isn’t distracting me.”

“Answer the question first.”

Groaning with frustration, she huffed, “Fine. I’m not okay. It threw me for a goddamn loop to see him there. Stole my fucking breath. Broke my heart all over again. Happy now?”

“Fuck, Lottie. Of course, I’m not happy! I just...I wish you wouldn’t shut me out all the damn time. I’d never left you alone tonight if I’d known.”

“I wasn’t trying to shut you out. I just hated the idea that he still has such a damn hold over me. I couldn’t stand admitting that I am that weak.”

“Hon, that doesn’t make you weak. That makes you human.”

“But how? How does he still have this power over me? After all this time? After the way he -- “

“Because that’s love. It’s never easy. It’s almost always messy. And when it is really real, it doesn’t let go, even when you desperately want it to.”

“But it wasn’t real! He wouldn’t have left me if it was real!”

“Shit.” Paul made an almost strangled noise before muttering, “I’m not trying to upset you more, Lottie. But I need you to do something you have refused to do all this time. I need you to look at it from his perspective.” Charlotte scoffed derisively, but Paul ignored it. “He didn’t leave you because he didn’t love you. He left you because he did. He wanted you to have the life that you had planned before he came bursting into it. And he knew that wasn’t possible if you were with him.”

“But -- “

“Dammit, Charlotte, no. You are gonna fucking listen to me this time. I understand that that wasn’t the life you wanted anymore, but look at it from his perspective. Going to college, going to Langston, had been your plan for years. You had known him for what? A couple months? Of course, it was gonna seem to him like you weren’t thinking it through. That you were making a rash decision. He didn’t want to be the reason you had regrets.”

Charlotte sat, stunned, in silence for several moments, trying desperately to find fault in Paul’s argument. Because he couldn’t be right. The only way she’d even started to put herself back together was by holding onto the anger she felt at how Logan had toyed with her, lied to her. If Paul was right and Logan had actually done it out of love? It would destroy her.

“Lottie?”

“Whatever. I don’t need this bullshit. Thanks for nothing.” For the second time that day, she hung up on him without a goodbye.

~-~-~-~-~-

Paul’s eyebrows shot clear up to his hairline when he locked eyes with her, and Charlotte couldn’t hold back her laugh. “You look as though you’ve never seen a badass bitch like me here before.”

Surprise coloring his tone, Paul stammered, “I, uh… I didn’t expect to see you tonight. Especially after I told you he was here.”

“Fuck him. I’m not gonna hide like some scared little bitch just because of him. I’m not gonna let him win like that.”

Paul’s lips pursed and his nose scrunched up as he opened his mouth to say something, but apparently the sharp look she shot him had him reconsidering because he just shook his head at her instead.

Satisfied that he was going to let the subject drop, at least for the moment, Charlotte asked, “You got any open slots tonight?”

“What happened to not runnin’ in my races? To worrying about people thinkin’ I’m playin’ favorites?”

Ignoring the derision in his voice, she shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t really care tonight. I’m just looking for a thrill ride, to be honest.” I’m looking for a goddamn escape from this endless loop of loss and pain I’ve been in since my eyes landed on him yesterday.

“Do you really think this is a good idea?”

“Do you really think questioning me is a good idea? Or turning me down, for that matter? We both know how well I draw a crowd.”

His eyes were conflicted as he studied her, clearly torn between what was good for business and what he thought was good for his friend. Eyes narrowing in impatience, she prodded, “Well, you got room for me or not? It’s not that hard of a fucking question, Paul.”

His shoulders fell and she let a smug smirk spread across her face. “Fine. Yes, I need a fourth in the last race tonight.”

“I knew you wouldn’t let me down, lover.”

“Yet that’s what I feel like I just did.”

Brushing his concern off with a wave of her hand, she couldn’t resist asking, “Is he set to race at all tonight?”

“He actually already did a run. Totally demolished Hector, Suki and Tej.”

“Not surprised. Those three are good, but they aren’t smooth enough to out-maneuver Logan.”

Paul chuckled, “Yeah, I think they’ve got that figured out now.”

Longing over what could have been threatened to suffocate her, so she shook her head in an attempt to clear her mind and changed the subject back to a safer area by asking, “Okay, so how long ‘til I’m up?”

“Well, lucky for your late-arrivin’ ass, you only have about half an hour til I’m gonna call y’all to the line.”

“Perfect. I’m gonna go do a quick once-over on Eva then.”

“Like that car actually needs it. It’s more perfect now than it ever would have been comin’ off the line.”

Charlotte shot him a wink over her shoulder as she headed back towards her car. “You know me, lover. I’m all about thorough perfection.”

Approximately thirty-four minutes later, Charlotte was cursing herself as she slipped back to fourth after taking the hairpin corner too fast and too wide. She hadn’t driven this badly since she’d been back in L.A. and, if she were being honest with herself, it was because her concentration was absolute shit. Snippets of memories kept flashing across her mind: her first driving lesson with Logan, picking out her car at the garage, her first job with the crew. As if she could banish the thoughts by driving faster, she pressed the throttle down a little harder. It was something she would never do under normal conditions, knowing that keeping control was her only shot at regaining her lost position, but nothing had been normal in over twenty-four hours. I have to fucking win this. He can’t know how bad he’s rattled me.

Through the next few turns, she could feel the razor’s edge she was balanced on, the tires squealing as they fought to maintain their hold on the pavement, but that only spurred her on as she retook third and then second place. Coming up on the next to last corner, a hard right hander, she was back on the bumper of the car in first. She knew that this was her best shot at getting an edge on him, so she dove deep into the turn, but memories of Logan walking away from her popped into her head, shattering what was left of her focus.

Charlotte recognized the tell-tale silence of the tires leaving the pavement before she felt the car start to tilt. Focus snapping back into place, she tried steering into it, hoping she could correct her mistake and even out, but it was too late. Time seemed to slow as her car started tumbling, her heart aching over how much damage the bridge support she knew she was hurtling towards was going to do to her beloved car. As the sickening crunch of metal meeting concrete overwhelmed her senses, Logan’s face filled her mind until everything went black.

~-~-~-~-~-

The first thing that Charlotte recognized as she started to regain consciousness was the tight grip on her left hand. The second was the beeping that was sending piercing pain through her head. She tried to peel her eyes open, but the smallest sliver of light was so excruciating that she instantly clamped them closed again. Where am I?

“Logan?” Charlotte groaned. Even the sound of her own voice hurt. Why am I in so much pain?

“No, sweetheart.” The hand holding her own squeezed gently. “It’s Paul.”

Her face scrunched up but she quickly tried to relax when the movement sent sharp pricks of pain through it. “Paul?” I know that name. How do I know that name?

“Yeah, uh… You know, Paul, your best friend?” Even through her haze she could hear the concern ratchet up in her companion’s voice.

Suddenly, as if someone had pulled open the curtains in her mind, the fog within it lifted and pieces started clicking into place. The dream, the memories, the accident -all playing through her mind like a movie. Her eyes flew open as she tried to turn towards Paul, whimpering pathetically as her body protested the movement.

Free hand coming up to run soothingly along her temple, Paul murmured, “Easy, sweetheart. Easy. You really did a number on yourself.”

“How bad…”

“You’ve gotta really bad concussion, a broken arm, some bruised ribs and quite a few cuts and scrapes. Your spleen ruptured so they had to take that out. Plus, I’m guessing you are basically one huge bruise right now.” When his grip tightened this time, she could feel how terrified he’d been.

Desperate to reassure him she was okay and lighten his mood, Charlotte smiled as best she could with a split lip and playfully chided, “I meant Eva, ya goofball.”

Paul’s eyes narrowed and she sucked in a breath. Maybe that wasn’t a good idea.

“Are you serious right now?”

What started as a joke quickly turned serious when she didn’t get an answer. Her car had to be in pretty bad shape if he wasn’t even going to brush her off with a reassurance that it would be fine. “Well, sorta? I mean, you know what she means to me. I need to know how bad I messed her up.”

“I… I can’t fuckin’ believe you.” Dropping her hand as if it was burning his skin, he pushed out of his chair and paced over to look out the window.

“Paul. C’mon. You had to know I was gonna ask.”

“You could have fuckin’ died, Charlotte.” His voice was so quiet she almost couldn’t hear him from the bed even though he was only two feet away.

Ignoring her impulse to snap at him for using her full name, she kept her tone gentle as she reminded him, “But I didn’t.”

Whirling on her, his eyes held a fire she’d never seen before. “I don’t even know why I fuckin’ bother. You wake up after bein’ out for three friggin’ days and the first person you ask for is that goddamn asshole? And then your next question is about the car?”

“Paul -- “

“Whatever. So glad you’re still alive.” Before Charlotte could even open her mouth to reply, Paul was already storming out of her room.

Hours later, she was still staring at the ceiling, wondering how things had escalated so quickly. Why she’d been such a bitch to the only person who seemed to give a damn about her. How her heart seemed to hurt even worse than her battered body did. Everything seemed to circle back to one central thought. Everything was fine until Logan showed up. Why did he always have to ruin her life?

~-~-~-~-~-

A little over a week later, Charlotte was going out of her mind with boredom at home. She’d been released a few days after she’d woken up, but she hadn’t heard from Paul since he’d stormed out. And seeing as how he was the only friend she’d made here, it left her feeling extremely isolated and with too much time to think. She’d run through her mistakes leading up to the accident at least a hundred times. The fight with Paul had circulated through her mind a few hundred more times than that. 

But the thing that she couldn’t escape at all was her run in with Logan, her brain constantly firing questions about it. How did he find me? Why did he find me? Did he ever really love me? Should I have listened to him when he wanted to talk?

Letting out a groan of frustration, she tried to bury the thoughts as she grabbed her phone off of her chair’s armrest. Pulling up Paul’s number, she was about to hit send to try calling him for the thirty-seventh time when her doorbell rang. Damn, does he have ESP or something?

“It’s open!” As soon as the words left her mouth, Charlotte cringed, knowing she was in for one hell of a lecture about leaving her door unlocked.

“You know, considering you’re the daughter of a cop, you aren’t very smart about security sometimes.”

The sound of Logan’s voice had her flinching so hard that she had to bite back a groan as her hand instinctively came up to cradle her ribs. Her voice was still a little breathless as Logan came around the corner into her living room and she seethed, “The fuck you doin’ here?”

Seemingly unfazed by her hostility, he shot her a grin. “Checking up on my Troublemaker.” Ignoring her protest of his use of the nickname, he added, “You know there are a lot less dramatic ways of getting my attention, don’t you?”

“Screw you, Logan. I wasn’t trying to get your attention and you know it.”

“You sure about that?”

“Pretty fuckin’ sure.”

Pulling his hand out from behind his back, he opened it up and let something dangle from his fingers. Her breath caught when she realized what he was holding. “Where...Where did you get that?”

“Found it after the accident. Must have flown out while you were trying out your new stunt routine. Needs some work, by the way.”

Biting back the snide remark that she knew would only spur him on further, she asked hotly, “So what?”

“If you really wanted nothing to do with me, why do you still have my necklace?”

“To remind me not to make the same horrible mistake twice.” When Logan’s eyes widened, she knew she’d hit her mark.

His lips pursed briefly before he let out a deep breath and asked, “Seriously, Charlotte. How are you?”

“None of your goddamn business, Logan.”

“Char -- “

“No. You lost the right to ask me that when you drove off and left me behind.” Thirteen months, two weeks and six days ago, to be exact. Not that she’d been counting. “You can get the fuck out of my apartment though.”

“But -- “

“No, Logan. Whatever it is you think you need to say to me? You can shove it. Better yet, choke on it and die. Because as far as I’m concerned? You’re already dead.”

“Please, Char. Please.”

Rolling her eyes at the desperation in his tone, even as it tugged painfully at her heart, she taunted, “Fine. What’s so damned important? How did you end up in the same city as me?”

“I, uh…um…”

Realization dawned and her fury hit a level she’d never experienced before. “Are you fucking kidding me? You came here looking for me, didn’t you?” She waited, refusing to continue until he admitted it. When he finally nodded his head, she seethed, “How fucking dare you? Who the fuck do you think you are? Why now?”

“I…” he trailed off into a sigh as he stared at the plush carpet beneath his feet.

Her fury building with each second he spent not talking, Charlotte waited for several long moments before she hissed, “Spit it out, Logan. You came here, looking for me. You found me. Now fucking talk so I can be done with your sorry, pathetic excuse of a being for good.”

“I heard rumblings about this girl out here. Hadn’t lost a race since she’d shown up on the scene around a year ago.” He finally lifted his gaze back up to meet her own and there was so much pain in his eyes that it almost broke through her anger. “I…it felt like a sign. I knew it had to be you. It was too much of a coincidence – the timing lined up and god knows you have the skills and the brains.”

Charlotte let out a harsh scoff, “It’s not like you didn’t know where I was before that. You knew I was coming out here for college.”

“But you never made it there.”

Shock reverberated through her entire body and she fought to keep her furious expression in place. How does he know that?

As if he was reading her mind, he added, “I only made it about two weeks before I broke down and drove out here. I went straight to the college, to the main office, and asked if there was a way they could help me find you. I told them as much of the truth as I could – that I wanted to surprise you, so I didn’t know which dorm you were in. Somehow, I convinced them to help me but when they looked you up in the system, it said you’d withdrawn before your first class.”

He came for me?

Fighting off the surge of hope threatening to overwhelm her, she mocked, “So what? Am I just supposed to fall at your feet now? You tried once, over a year ago no less, to find me, so that makes everything all better, right?”

“It wasn’t just once.” She raised a skeptical eyebrow so he pressed on, “When I struck out at the school, I tried to figure out where you might have gone. I chased down every single idea I had, no matter how crazy or far-fetched it was. Still, I couldn’t find you. So after about a month and half, I broke down and went to your dad’s.”

Charlotte gasped, “You didn’t.”

“I did. I knew it was a long shot. Stupid as hell, too. But I was desperate and hoping that his law-abiding nature would force him to tell me the truth. And maybe a part of me was hoping that it would be simple and you’d just be there. Of course, you weren’t and your dad told me he had no idea where you were and to go fuck myself. As irritated as I was, I wasn’t surprised that he wouldn’t tell me the truth.”

“He did.”

“What?”

Dropping her gaze to where her hands were folded so tightly in her lap that her fingers had turned white, she whispered, “He did tell you the truth. He had no idea where I was. Still doesn’t.”

“I don’t…”

Shrugging her shoulders, Charlotte told him, “I haven’t talked to him since right after you left. So I guess you were right about one thing. I didn’t need you to be strong.”

She didn’t miss his wince at her words, but he only shook his head before continuing his tale, “When I didn’t get anything out of him, I’d officially run out of leads. From that point on, I tried like hell to push you out of my head and my heart. But I couldn’t. So when I heard all that, I had to come find out for myself whether or not it was really you.”

Charlotte’s eyes had slid closed as Logan admitted that he hadn’t been any more successful at forgetting her than she was at forgetting him. She had to. If she kept looking at that pitiful look on his face while he was saying all the things she’d longed for him to say, she was going to give in. She was going to forgive him and give him back her heart. But she couldn’t. She’d never survive him pulverizing it again.

Forcing more heat into her words than she really felt, she smarted off, “Well, now you know. So if you’d kindly see yourself out, I’d really appreciate it.”

Instead of turning towards her front door, he walked even closer until he was able to kneel so closely beside her that she could feel the heat rolling off his body. “I can’t do that, Troublemaker.”

“Why not?” Lord, she hoped her voice didn’t sound as whiney to him as it did to her own ears. Judging by his smirk, she definitely wasn’t that lucky.

“For one, you still haven’t answered my question.”

It took her a second to remember what his question was. “Fine. I’m fine. Now will you go?”

“Nope. Because I need one more thing from you before I do.”

Desperate to get him out of her space, she instantly told him, “Anything. I’ll do anything.”

“Tell me you don’t still love me.”

She inhaled so sharply that her body screamed in protest. “What?”

She fought to keep her eyes from closing after he raised his right hand so that his fingers could run gently through the hair at the side of her face. She’d been so distracted that she didn’t even realize he had leaned closer until she felt his breath hot against her ear as he murmured, “Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll go. You’ll never hear from me again.”

“I don’t… I don’t…”

“Yes?”

“Dammit, Logan.” She’d swear her face leaned into his touch all on its own. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you doing this? Why are you torturing me?”

Startled, he pulled away from her and she felt the loss all the way to her toes. His voice was rough as he muttered, “I’m not trying to.”

“But you are. You show up after all this time, when I’m finally starting to put the pieces of my shattered heart back together. You weave this story of how you love me, how you never stopped -- “

“It’s not a story!”

She kept talking as if she hadn’t heard him, “Then you beg me to tell you I don’t love you, as if you already know the answer. Like if I tell you that I do still love you, you’re going to stay. That we’ll suddenly have this happily ever after.”

“What’s so wro -- “

“And then when things get tough again, you’ll bolt. And I’ll be left here, probably broken beyond repair this time. So, no, I won’t play this game with you.”

“Babe. I swear. I learned my lesson. I’m not goin’ anywhere this time.”

“Where have I heard that before?”

Dropping his head, Logan whispered, “I know I promised before. But, I swear, I thought I was doing what was best for you. You had college, your whole life ahead of you. I was a fugitive. I didn’t see how all of that could work together.”

“Because you never even asked me! Not once did you even think to ask if that was still the life I wanted! If you had, you’d have known, I didn’t give a fuck about Langston anymore!”

“But I -- “

“No, Logan. It’s your turn to listen. Being with you did more than just show me how to stand up for myself, how to be strong. I learned who I really was -- am. And I learned what I really want out of life. None of which had anything to do with that stuffy college.”

Looking at her through his lashes, he asked tentatively, “So what do you want?”

“I want to work with cars. I want to race them. Maybe I don’t want to be a part of a criminal enterprise like Kaneko’s crew, but I love the street racing life. So that’s what I’ve spent the last year doing.”

Instead of the look of disapproval or disappointment she expected to see on Logan’s face, all she could find was admiration. “So what did you do about it?”

“I dropped out of Langston, which you apparently already knew. Then I enrolled at the city’s technical college in their automotive mechanic program. In my spare time, I rode around the city streets, learning their characteristics as I honed my skills.”

“Still, it isn’t easy to work your way onto a scene like this.”

“No, it isn’t. But I pestered Paul enough until he fell in love with me and took pity on me.” A small wave of satisfaction washed over her when Logan’s face morphed into a scowl. “After that first race, he, and all the regulars, realized how much skill I had. Finding races got a lot easier after that. Plus, Paul hooked me up with a shop that works with performance cars, so I’m interning there when I’m not in class.”

“Damn, Char” -- his face fell as she flinched involuntarily. “I’m sorry, is it Lottie now?”

“No, it’s fine. I just...I haven’t...I don’t…”

“Hey, I get it. I’m not asking you to just jump right back into where we left off, ya know. I just want another chance.”

“I know, Logan. I…” Charlotte let out a sigh. She wanted, so badly, to give him that. But how could she trust this time would be different? She’d watched him walk away from her two times already. She knew she wouldn’t survive a third. Choosing to be honest, with him and herself, she asked, “How do I know I can trust you?”

“Know? You don’t. But I think me showing up here has to count for something, doesn’t it?”

Brow furrowing, she realized there was still an important piece to this puzzle she was missing, “How are you here, anyway? I know I sure as hell didn’t tell you where I live.”

The left corner of his mouth twitched up, “Paul told me.”

“No, seriously. How’d you find me?”

“Paul.” Reading the confusion on her face, he continued, “He wasn’t happy about it, but he made some comment about you needing to talk to me and you asking for me in the hospital and then wrote your address down for me. Confused the hell outta me, but I wasn’t gonna question it.”

Charlotte made a mental note to call Paul soon, both to rip him a new one and also thank him profusely. Pushing that from her mind, she took a deep breath and, for the first time in over a year, she listened to her heart. Holding her hand out to Logan, she waited until he laced his fingers with hers before whispering, “I can’t.”

Looking stricken, Logan tried to pull his hand out of hers. “Oh...okay…”

“Logan. Look at me.” He hesitated, but when she squeezed his fingers, his eyes finally met hers and she smiled even as her tears started to fall. “I can’t tell you I don’t love you. Because no matter how fucking hard I tried, I couldn’t push you out of my heart.”

A sharp gasp slipped past his lips as he searched her face, as if he couldn’t quite believe what she was telling him. When his fingers tightened around hers even more, her smile grew even bigger. “You mean…?”

“Yeah, baby. I...I’m willing to try this again. But -- “ Logan surged off the floor, wrapping her gently in his arms and for the first time in a long, long time, she felt whole again.

Face buried in her hair, he promised, “Anything, Charlotte. I’ll do anything you want. Anything you need.”

“I just need to take this slow, okay?”

“Done. You set the pace. All the way.”

She couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle at the wonder in his voice. “Hey, Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

 Tags:@burnsoslow @anotherbeingsworld

A/N: This was my first ever attempt at writing for Logan. I really hope I did this sweet, amazing boy justice. For the record, I completely understood his reasons for walking away at the end of RoD - even respected him for it - but I also know that it wouldn’t have set well with my girl, which is how this idea came to be. Thank you all so much for reading!!

[soulfood-fics]

Oreo - Chapter 3

Here is Chapter 3, I hope you enjoy it!

Hopefully, I added everyone from chapter 2 in the tags.       

Just in case you missed it, here are chapters: 1, 2

mood boards: John Boyega  

Pairing: John Boyega x Black!OC

Inspiration: John did an interview where he said a girl broke up with him after seeing him on a Star Wars billboard, this story is a variation of that but with my own little twist.

“Are you going to sit or do I need to bring the table to you?”

She didn't hear John come in nor did she realize how close he was standing. Akida could feel his chest pressing against her shoulder and when she turned her head to look at him, their lips were so close she could feel his breath. 

“Hi, Kiddie.” 

“Hi, John.” Just to be safe, Akida took a step back to put some distance between them. 

No romance. She was on a mission to get some truth out of him. 

“Before we sit, I have a few questions.” 

Her assertiveness caught John off guard, the first time they met and last time they spoke she was timider. He wondered what had changed between that morning and now.

“Alright, but I have one request.” looking Akida in the eyes he says, “I want you to eat.”

“What?” 

“I want you to eat. Get whatever you want, this is my treat. If I wanted to eat with a stick, I would've ordered Chinese food.”

Before she could respond, Akida’s stomach growled reminding her that she’d worked through lunch. Her hopes of getting by on a salad and a few breadsticks were gone. 

“Fine.” Resisting the urge to cross her arms, she walked to the table. 

John got to the table first to pull out her chair, then sat across from her. 

“First question?”

“Why did you reserve the restaurant for a private dinner?” This time she didn't stop her arms from folding in front of her. The interrogation had begun. 

“Well…” John paused, He could lie and say he just wanted some alone time with her, or tell the truth, he was afraid the date would go bad and paparazzi would see. “I’m a messy eater. It’s really embarrassing.” 

Good job, not a lie but not the truth either, He told himself. He laughed and Akida laughed along with him. He thought he was safe.

“So we're lying?” uh oh, John wasn't as convincing as he’d thought and Akida could see right through him. 

There was no way out of this situation for him. Either way, he’d end up ruining their evening and messing up any chance he had with Akida. She was staring him down, waiting for an answer for what felt like a lifetime. He went into a panic and said the first thing that came to mind.

“What made you change your mind?”   

Akida already had her purse in her hand and was mentally halfway out the door. “Why does it matter? I'm here arent I?”

“You seemed pretty set on not seeing me again. Something must’ve changed.”

He had his doubts that Akida only changed her mind because she found out who he was. Now she was the one being interrogated, and John knew he must’ve upset her when her hand tightened into a fist.

“Maybe I should leave then.”

As she got up from the table, a woman came out of what must’ve been the kitchen. 

“Akida this is Chef Faith Adeyemi. She -”

“She won the Jollof festival in July.” Akida was there when she’d won but Elijah had insisted they leave. Since she wasn't Ghanian, he felt she must've cheated.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Faith brought Akida into a hug, putting pressure on her shoulders to force her to sit back down. “I’ve prepared something very special for the two of you this evening.” 

Several waiters approached the table carrying plates and placed them in front of Akida and John. The chef explained each dish in detail, but Akida only had her eye on the Jollof, happy that he’d kept his promise.

John knew Akida was already on edge and could tell he’d made things worse. Once he knew they were alone, he tried to redeem himself.

“Just to clarify, it wasn't a lie. Honestly, I eat like a horse.”

“I know.” Akida smiled up at him. “You had sesame seeds on your cheek when we met.”

“Why didn't you say something?” 

Akida shrugged in response. She thought it was cute that he didn't care how he looked and was actually enjoying his food. She thought he was cute in general.

“So you just let me walk around with food on my face?”  John laughed as he spoke. 

She really liked the way he laughed with his whole face, eyes shut tight and mouth wide open. But she couldn't let him know, so she just shrugged again and focused on her food

“Oh, what is it now?” John asked using a thick Nigerian accent. “ Why are you so quiet?”

“Nothing.  Just thinking.” She didn't look up from her food

“What are you thinking about?”

“Are lightsabers heavy?” Akida’s question made John choke on his food.

He didn't realize she’d already found out about him and wasn't sure how much she knew. Fame changed the people around him and once he got some clout from Star Wars, John lost a lot of close friends and family.  

“They're actually pretty light. Hence the name.”  

“Also, who is Luke and why doesn't he know who his father is?” 

“What?” 

“You know ‘Luke I am your father.’” 

“Have you ever seen Star Wars?” She clearly didn't know much about the franchise.

Akida shook her head no and continued to eat. 

“... Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia are brother and sister.” John spent the rest of the evening trying to explain the films to Akida. “And Darth Vadar, who is Anakin Skywalker, was their dad.” Most of the information went over her head.  “His name means dark father…” He could tell she was trying to keep up but got lost when he started talking about galaxies. 

“And where do you come in?”

“My character comes in a little later.”

In his attempt to explain the battles between the resistance and the first order John accidentally knocks his empty plate onto the floor.  

“Sorry, I guess I got a little carried away.” They both bent down and start picking up the pieces of the plate.

“No you're good, I enjoyed listening to you talk. You’re very passionate about what you do.”

“Acting has always been my dream and now I get paid for it.” As John stood he let out a deep laugh and helped Akida up. She placed the broken pieces on the table.

“We probably should've left that for the staff.” 

“It’s getting pretty late, one less thing for them clean.” He played with the broken pieces and tried to put them back together. 

Akida hadn't checked the time since she had gotten there, so when she looked she was a little shocked to see that it was 10:30 pm.

“I still have some time before I should head back home, do you want to get out of here?”

“Oh, sure! I’ll be quiet so you can tell me about you this time.” John put on his coat and reached for Akida's hand. 

“Don't we have to pay?” Private dinners were very new to Akida and she wasn't sure how they worked. 

“I already paid for the night, love.”  

Oh, he got money. Akida still wasn't comfortable just leaving so she left a tip on the table.

While Akida had her back turned Johns phone rang. 

“I've got to take this. Give me a second.” John held up a finger and stepped into the lobby.

Akida didn't want to eavesdrop but couldn't help herself so she took a few steps closer to the lobby. She couldn't hear the full conversation but was able to make out some of what John was saying. 

“I know, I know. Daddy will be home soon. Be good for me, Okay?.... I Love you too.” 

Then the conversation was over and Akida wanted the night to be over also. There was no way for her to process what she’d just heard. 

“I gotta go.” She pushed past John and ran through the lobby. A lump had formed in her throat and she was afraid of what else would come out. 

“Where are you going?” He asked. Akida didn't answer so he ran after her. “What's going on?”

She didn't stop running until she was outside. The cold night air hit the wet lines on her cheeks. Before she turned around, Akida wiped her tears. Then she looked at John and put her hands up in surrender. 

“I don't know what type of game this is but I don't want to play. You and whoever that girl is can find someone else to mess with.”  She left John at the restaurant and walked to her car. 

Once she was inside with the doors locked, Akida let all the tears fall. 

“I knew this was a mistake. ”She whispered repeatedly banging her head on the steering wheel.

Regret and betrayal stung her heart and she was mad at no one but herself. 

That's All Folks! Thanks to the BWWG for their help

@ghostfacekill-monger @l-auteuse @twistedcharismaaa 

@honeychicana @chaneajoyyy @chasingsunlight @raysunshine78 @notsomellowmushroom

[anerbananers]

Listen, I don’t care

idc who you stan, who you hate, if you ship them or don’t whatever. You don’t have to ship them to understand this. I only appreciate them as rivals and this is hitting me in the face and making me FEEL things y’all. 

the writing of the scenes in episode 23 and just izuku and katsuki’s relationship in general is INCREDIBLY nuanced, complex, and well done! A lot of rivalries in shonen are shallow in comparison to this.

Remember this is targeted at young boys! It’s SUPER important to show them what an inferiority complex looks like, what imposter syndrome looks like. How someone can be a GOOD PERSON and still do BAD THINGS. How not to let people walk all over you. Both of these boys cry and you SEE their tears, feel their emotions. And the mentors in their lives are also there to guide them too. For young boys to see this, I think, is important. This isn’t JUST about jealousy. IJS, this is some grown shit. ADULTS IRL struggle with this. Like, Bakugou’s entire perception of Izu is warped by his insecurity. This shows how intentions and perceptions can be so WAY off. Why communication is important.

And what I love is that Horikoshi makes sure you KNOW the adults and teachers know they have a part to play in this. And it’s a theme of the story that the adults have created some hefty issues here and even if they didn’t start this, they have to take responsibility and properly guide these kids. Not just between these two boys, but in general, culturally. When you have a hero system that has emphasized might over rescue this whole time, it creates this kind of confusion! At this point in the story the hero franchise (b/c it’s a business really) is changing it’s model due to All Might’s retirement.

THAT’S WHY THE HEAVIEST HITTERS FAILED THE FREAKIN’ TEST.

Even the teachers were surprised by this change in approach. They hadn’t exactly prepped their students for this kind of thinking.

Honestly it’s a good change, but of COURSE it trips up kids like Bakugou who only emulated what he saw. Katuski, who you KNOW is smart enough to understand how the system works even as a preteen and study it to the letter. Look at it like this:

All Might saves people because he’s STRONG. He’s fast, he’s overwhelming and in PHYSICAL top shape. All Might has the ability to rescue because he wins first, because he knocks the villains out and then even if he has to flee the scene (because he’s on borrowed time), OTHER heroes can come to help civilians.  But the main thing is he can beat anyone, and that fact ALONE has deterred villains from even TRYING shit until now. His charisma is a bonus, but his incredible power kept shit locked tf DOWN this entire time.

A lot of heroes rescue just fine. But only All Might is able to have such a lasting heroic influence. And his strength and power is the key difference. He’s not just GOOD, he’s the BEST. He’s not just the BEST, he outpaces the #2 hero by leaps and bounds. His strength comes from his heart, ofc, and WE know that, but Bakugou has no way of knowing that. He doesn’t understand how OFA even works. 

The way Bakugou does this is brash, ofc, but he’s questioning what he believes. He’s asking WHY? He’s even asking Izuku because he doesn’t know who else, and tbh in all his anger still has to swallow a lot of pride to do so.

The guilt. Wow. The way that scene was done. *chef kiss* Sometimes when you’re a high achiever and do well in most things, nobody wonders if you need help or support or to get out of your own head. Nobody even thought that Bakugou was blaming himself because he gives off such a strong and assured aura. Which is crazy cuz for me I was like UMMM HELLO? CHECK ON HIM?? 

“I’m weak too, you know.”

SO IMPORTANT. Not only that Katsuki said that, but that he said it to two people I think everyone can agree he’d NEVER want to know this ideally. But he’s just at that point where his emotions are spilling over. He needs help. That’s how he’s asking for help. I was dying man. So beautiful seeing All Might embrace him and understand exactly what he needed to do. Fuck the secret. Explain so this child can be at peace on this! Too much to carry alone! For each and any one of them.

If you narrow Bakugou Katsuki and Izuku Midoriya down to “a bully and his victim” you are missing out.

this post is long because I got in my feelings. Just had to write a thesis paper. LOL. More under the cut! 

I was a victim of bullying. Many times in my life. I’m small, I’m intellectual, I was social and made friends easily but I also didn’t like cliques and some other girls didn’t like that I just hung out with EVERYONE. Some boys did the “i tease you because i like you thing”. Either way, I’ve reconciled with 2 of my bullies in the course of my life. I know a thing or two about how and why bullies do what they do. And this was when I was in elementary school, so I’m telling you also that when you’re super young it’s a bit...different in your mind as you get older. This isn’t to excuse Katsuki’s actions, so let me stop you. But there is a very key difference in behavior between a typical bully and what happened with these two boys.

10/10 times, I was steering clear of my bullies. Even the ones within my friend groups that would start to do the mean girl kinda bullshit. I’d keep interaction with them to a minimum. Even when I wanted to be pretty and cool like them, I was meek and fearful in the way I interacted with them. I’d engage the other girls first and keep my head down. My bullies would approach or interact with ME, clearly seeking to gas themselves up by putting me down or bothering me. I mean, I’m sure others have experiences more similar to our boys here so maybe I’m full of shit, but the complexity with Izu and Kat is that Izuku kept approaching Bakugou with a smile and a laugh, no matter what Bakugo did. This does happen in actual abusive relationships, but for kids and not adults, and I think some folks aren’t seeing the difference. This isn’t like, weird gaslighting and manipulation. Bakugou doesn’t act like a bitch and then turn around and be all sweet on Deku to keep him closeby. Bakugou legitimately wanted Deku to go away, and when he doesn’t Bakugou, in his wild paranoia is like “what does this MEAN???” He attached a meaning to it that was completey WRONG of course, because that’s how anxiety and insecurity work. Now Izuku being the natural beautiful bean boy that is perfect for heroism, is right to do this. He somehow, even so young, could understand that sometimes people need to be saved from themselves. I’m so positive of this. And that ability frightened bakugou so much. In his eyes, he’s being tormented by this kid who sees RIGHT through him and won’t go away. Izuku represents his fear in living breathing form. Every time he sees him, it’s like an irrational reaction. In Bakugou’s eyes Izu might as well have been walking around yelling “KACCHAN IS AFRAID!!!” In his desperation not to be exposed for the insecure and fearful child he should’ve been taught is okay to be, Bakugou decides to be the absolute worst in hopes that Deku leaves him alone. As he’s doing this though, he’s getting positive reinforcement from those around him, which just solidifies this personality trait as a good thing. It’s just a mess!

Again, not condoning, I’m always just amazed at the nuances here. Bakugou was and in some ways still IS a bully (at this point in the anime at least. but in the manga currently i wouldn’t call him this anymore. grumpy? rude? yes. but honestly harmless. the class cares for him and he and izu are civil now)  but also it was Deku’s choice to stick with him. He saw that Bakugou could be better and didn’t give up on him. THAT is a hero. And I think everyone is unanimous on that, and that’s why it bother’s me that people are so divided on Bakugou. I trust Izu’s judgement tbh, more than All Might’s. And both of them, Aizawa too, see that Katsuki can be better, and that he’s TRYING. and that he is willing to change because he legit WANTS to be someone All Might would choose. He’s asking Deku so many questions not just because he’s confused, but because he wants to know so he can do what HE needs to do to match up and make his idol proud.

People love a work in progress. I love how the top dog in a lot of ways is the underdog here. I love that Deku GETS it. That to others he may seem crazy. Who chases after their bully? Who admires someone who said disgusting and hurtful things to them? It’s not stockholm lol. There’s a lot to unpack there but I’m telling you, this is some real shit. It’s well written af! Heroism isn’t about being perfect and wonderful and kind all the time. All Might thinks Bakugou is an earnest kid who can be an excellent hero and just needs some work! Who doesn’t? You do! I do! You are not perfect either. A lot of fans of the series see that patience and they support not just our bright and shining Izu, but also the glowering and loud Katsuki who is growing mentally right now. I think it’s fine if his behaviour just makes you so uncomfortable and brings up bad memories. You can absolutely dislike him, it’s not for everybody! But hopefully you can objectively see why they WILL team up and be a team and the story is supporting that growth. I hope you are not disgusted by it or think it’s lazy writing just because it’s not your cup. Let these kids develop and grow and change! Step out of trope and archetype city and just feel this story arc for the realistic mirror of human nature that it is. Either way it’s a fabulous ride!

[imagines-so-what-if]

I is for Impressing You

Headcanon and scenarios for Sherlock, Mycroft, and Moriarty 

The prompt: How he tries to impress you.

Genre: Fwuff.

Rating: K+

Reader type: Quiet, patient, shy

SHERLOCK MASTERLIST

Headcanons for Sherlock trying to impress you.

Bby boy is all about trying to impress you with his deductions. It’s his pride and joy, after all!

He’ll absolutely put down others in front of you (especially Anderson).

“Were you born without a brain or did you lose it when s/he entered the room?”

“How that tiny little brain of yours is developed enough for you to speak is a scientific miracle.”  

Will call  everyone else but you an idiot.

Might unintentionally insult you by deducing you.

Loves explaining things to you. Even if you know the answer he’ll still enjoy telling it to you.

Embodiment of sass and sarcasm.

Will attempt to succeed in whatever interests you (for example if you’re big into cooking he’ll try to make an elaborate dish for you).

He’ll drag you along on his cases so you have more chances to be impressed by him.

Sherlock scenario 

You hovered near the back of the crime scene beside John. You were technically a civilian so you really shouldn’t be there, but Sherlock had effectively dragged you along with him and John. Still, you didn’t want to accidentally contaminate evidence or cause an issue with the already irritated officers, so you tried to stay out of the way to the best of your ability.

Sherlock was kneeling beside the body, his eyes rapidly moving about as he examined it.

Without looking up he snapped, “Shut up, Anderson.”

The man who had walked into the crime scene just then halted. He was beside you so you could clearly see the flush of anger on his cheeks. “I haven’t even said anything!”

“I can hear your lecherous thoughts about Y/N. Remove yourself before you waste any more of the air here.”

At the word lecherous you blushed bright red in embarrassment. The man named Anderson stammered out, “I was not!”

You shuffled a couple steps away from him and he threw you a look of disbelief.

“Leave,” Greg sighed. “You’ll only rile him up.”

The man looked thoroughly offended and gave Greg a scathing look of disapproval, but he did turn around leave.

Greg turned to look at Sherlock and asked, “Well?”

“Solved it,” Sherlock said brusquely, abruptly standing back up. “Ridiculously easy, I’m sure you could figure it out on your own within a month or so.”

“So what happened?” You asked hesitantly.

Sherlock looked at you, fixing you with his sharp blue eyes. He took a deep breath and then launched into a huge monologue explaining how the victim was obviously killed by her sister. He listed such minor and seemingly unimportant clues but which all added up to the big revelation. You couldn’t help but be impressed by his deduction and you exclaimed at the end, “That’s amazing! You’re so brilliant, Sherlock.”

His lips twitched and he cocked his head. “Well, yes.”

“If this was so easy why did it catch your attention?” John asked, struggling not to grin at Sherlock.

Sherlock glared seethingly at him. “How could I have known it would be so alarmingly easy before coming here?”

“Well I mean you first rejected coming here and then all of a sudden Y/N shows up and suddenly it’s a fascinating case—”

“Your memory is failing you, Watson,” Sherlock snapped. “Case is solved, end of story.” Then he looked back over at you, blue eyes burning into your own. “You haven’t eaten yet, but you’re hungry. Let’s go.”

“O-Okay,” you managed to get out before Sherlock grabbed your hand and dragged you away again.

You could hear John and Greg’s laughter behind you.

Headcanons for Mycroft trying to impress you

Mycroft is subtle with how he impresses you. He’s not one for grand gestures or drama.

He already knows he’s an impressive man, and he’s certain you already know it, too.

That being the case there are times where he can’t resist showing off. For example he might play a strategy game against his brother or someone else you know of high intelligence (chess for example) and you “coincidentally” walk in on him winning.

He’ll prepare elaborate meals for you and not tell you he made them until after you’ve already praised them.

He’ll subtly steer conversations so he can slip in some of his impressive feats.

He will without a doubt casually put down anyone he views as competition when you’re in earshot.

Backhanded compliments are his bread and butter for this.

“Oh, yes the report looks extremely put together considering it was done by a primary school child.”

“A truly fascinating story. You’ve almost been upgraded from imbecile to a vaguely interesting imbecile.”

“What a charming mind you have! Thinking for an instant s/he would take any sort of interesting in you. My, I wish I could experience such wild delusions like you.”

Mycroft scenario 

You were returning home after a long day of errands, expecting to find it empty. To your delight, however, you saw the lights were on in Mycroft’s study. As soon as you entered your home you could smell something absolutely delicious dominate most of the house.

You wanted to go to the kitchen to see what new lovely creation Mycroft made, but you were more excited to see your husband. 

With a skip in your heart you moved quickly through the halls, slowing down as you heard Mycroft’s voice along with someone else’s. It sounded like his brother, but that would have been odd. Sherlock didn’t typically visit Mycroft (if anything it was the other way around, or you playing messenger for them). 

Still, stranger things have happened.

You walked in on the library, surprised to find that the lovely smell was also coming from it. You immediately spotted a decadent cake—your favorite kind!— and you felt your stomach sing praises at that. 

“... Checkmate, brother mine.”

“Tt.” 

Reluctantly, you looked away from the mouth-watering cake and over at Sherlock and Mycroft. The two were sitting opposite of one another at Mycroft’s gorgeous chess table. Sherlock was perched on the edge of the chair and looked, for all intents and purposes, like an angry kitten told it was time to take a bath. Mycroft on the other hand was perfectly at ease with a small bemused smile on his face.

Both men looked up at your entrance. Sherlock glaring and Mycroft’s eyes gleaming. “Welcome home, my dear.”

“Thank you,” you returned. “Sherlock, everything okay? You hardly come here.”

“A little wager, that’s all,” Mycroft smoothly answered on his brother’s behalf. “He lost, though, and now he has to pay up. The case file will be by the front door. Do you require assistance—?”

“I know where the front door is,” Sherlock snapped, standing up with grace and grabbing his coat off the back of the chair. He tilted his head towards you. “Good evening, Y/N.”

“Be safe going home,” you said, patting Sherlock on the shoulder as he brushed past you. Then you turned back towards Mycroft, gesturing towards the cake. “Whatever is the occasion?”

“Oh, nothing really,” Mycroft hummed, standing up from his chair and straightening out the nonexistent crinkles in his coat. “A new recipe. Care to try?”

“Mycroft I know it’ll be heavenly. You’re always such an amazing cook.”

“Of course, of course,” he demurred, “but can’t a man want to his impress you?”

You blushed, smiling shyly at him. “We’ve been married for five years, Mycroft...”

“Time won’t change my desire, my dear. I will always want to impress you.”

Headcanons for Moriarty trying to impress you

This guy is all about grand gestures.

He’ll buy you expensive things and fly you out to random and exotic places. He’ll arrange fireworks to cover the London sky; he’ll rent out an amusement park for a whole day (or more) for you; he’ll take you to ridiculously expensive places.

It’s easy to show off with money and it’s one of the few things he’s comfortable doing. Everyone has a price, right?

Still that won’t be enough. Sure you could be impressed with the wealth he’s accumulated but that doesn’t mean you’re impressed with him. He’ll show off his intellect at every chance he gets.

He’ll manipulate events and conversations to his benefit. He’ll want every interaction you have him with to leave you in awe.

He’ll base it off of your interests. Interested in writing? Coincidentally he’s published a few books. Like to cook? Oh, wow, guess who’s won a Michelin star. Big fan of whatever fandom? Guess who’s buying the franchise.

Everything he does and says will be over the top.

(If you’ve been with him long enough he’ll actually start to compete against himself over past actions to impress you.)

He will absolutely brag about his criminal achievements and particularly elaborate plots.

Moriarty scenario 

It was still early on in your relationship with him. You’d been friends with Jim for a few years now, but your relationship was mostly through online messages. You hadn’t met him in person until a week ago when you moved to London.

It was actually rather odd. You were miraculously offered your dream job! And amazingly enough a crazy cheap (it was almost exactly as much as you could afford for a flat without having to live paycheck to paycheck) flat in a gorgeous neighborhood (frankly you didn’t believe the pricing given to you could really be it because it was so beautiful). 

When you had moved into the new home (somehow a lot of your old stuff got destroyed by the movers on the way so they paid you ten times the price it was worth to replace so in addition you got brand new furniture that you sorely needed) you almost instantly got a message from Jim asking to meet in real life.

The meeting had been brief since you had to get ready for work—he met you at a cute little café near your new home—but absolutely delightful. The two of you instantly connected and you were enamored by his brilliant mind and charming wit.

You had only been able to meet up a few more times after that until tonight.

Tonight was first “proper” date with him.

Now you knew Jim was wealthy (he was upfront about that after the two of you became friends) but that didn’t matter to you. You liked Jim for his addicting personality and you loved talking with him.

Still, you were caught off guard by how crazy expensive the restaurant was that he had taken you. It was in the heart of London and everyone was elegantly dressed.

You felt oddly out of place there, but Jim was quick to put you at ease with his warm banter.

The two of you sat down at a small little table. It was lit by candlelight and the music and conversation swelled around you.

“What do you think?” he asked, leaning towards you across the table.

“I-It’s gorgeous. Certainly very busy though, isn’t it? They must be constantly booked,” you replied, looking around. Every table was filled, after all.

“Is it too loud for you? Too many people?”

It was a bit intimidating being surrounded by so many beautiful and obviously rich people, but you didn’t want to say that out loud. He was treating you, after all. It would be rude to speak ill of his choice.

“Oh, I wouldn’t—”

Moriarty smiled charmingly at you, a gleam in his eyes. Something about his gaze made your voice fall silent. With great care and grace he lifted up his wine glass and gently tapped his spoon against it. On the third chime everyone else in the restaurant fell silent.

Then in the next second they all got up and filed out. You watched them leave with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape. Within the minute the restaurant was entirely silent save for the sound of the candles flickering.

Moriarty watched you with that same smile on his face. “Better, my dear?”

“U-Um—wow.”

He winked. “Oh don’t say that so soon. I’ll give you a real reason for that praise later tonight.”

[kumkaniudaku]

Wing Man: Three

One. Two.

Chadwick Boseman x Black!Reader 

Warnings: Mild Language. Hella Angst.

A/N: (3/29/19) Names have been changed to separate fiction from real life. Thanks for reading. 

Atlanta, Georgia (2015)

“Alright, let’s take five and then we’ll get into the rooftop fight sequence. Good job, guys.” Anthony Russo shouted over the assortment of conversations in the vicinity.

Chadwick quickly removed his helmet, inhaling deeply in an attempt to recover from the environment that made breathing impossible. He still wasn’t used to living inside of the suit he would work in for the next few years.

“Good work, Your Highness,” Tasha’s smooth voice called over his shoulder, sending his stomach into uncontrollable knots. She sounded much better without a receiver distorting the husky tone of her voice. Exhaustion faded into a wide smile before he turned to grab the bottle of water in your hand.

“Why do your compliments always sound like sarcasm?”

“Probably because they are,” she laughed, inviting Chadwick to join. 

It had been three years since the dynamic duo had seen each other in person. Tasha’s job with the New Jersey Nets didn’t translate to Brooklyn when the franchise relocated before the 2010 regular season, sending her to look for work elsewhere. Luckily, with connections and a grueling interview process, a job within the Atlanta Dream front office opened up, landing Tasha a new role as the Director of Communications. Chadwick was proud, but quietly resented the job responsible for pulling Tasha from her safety net and from him sooner than either of them had hoped.

When Chadwick called CoCo to visit him on the set of Captain America: Civil War, she jumped at the chance, rescheduling every meeting on her calendar for the day and practically floating to the Buckhead area.

She felt giddy with each GPS directed turn. At stoplights she would check her makeup, wondering if she still looked the same from the last time they looked each other in eyes. It was a coincidence, really. A moment orchestrated by fate. 

On a random trip for the Mrs. Carter World Tour, Tasha and her girls found themselves weaving through throngs of club goers as the fought to reach the bar at the center of the lively venue. While she hung back to let her friends order, she caught a glimpse of a familiar half scowl posted in a section above the crowd. Chadwick sat off by himself while those in the immediate area enjoy the music and “party favors”. Without hesitating, Tasha shot him a text that asked him to smile and watched as his head shot up to find her in the mix. They spent the rest of the night together, leaving the club and finding greasy comfort food a nearby diner. When the sun rose, Tasha reluctantly left his hotel suite with the promise to stay in touch and visit him LA when she had the time. Unfortunately, she never made it to Southern California, making this opportunity that much more special.

“It’s good to see you, CoCo; your smart mouth included. You look good.” His eyes trailed from Tasha’s full lips to the curve of her waist and, finally, at the brown skin of her thick thighs peeking from beneath her dress. He didn’t think it was possible, but she were more stunning than the last time he saw her.

“It’s good to see you too, Aaron.”

“Woah, woah,” He exclaimed covering her mouth with the palm of his hand “Let’s keep the middle names to a minimum.”

“My bad, Prince T’Challa. I’d hate for you to kick my ass out here with your new muscle suit and what not.”

“Suit? Co, this all me! I’m the Black Panther at all times,” he laughed.

Tasha’s mind wandered to what he looked like sans Black Panther ensemble. The thought of how his body would glisten under the blazing Georgia sun, accenting each ripple and jagged cut on his arms and back. Explicit visions of his body hovering over hers, like the night that had never been discussed, and finally finishing what they had started began to take shape in CoCo’s brain before she shook her thoughts to focus on the conversation.

“I gotta get back to set but, I want to see you again. Maybe we can go get dinner or…”

“I’ve got a better idea,” she cut in, excited to share news from her personal life. “I’m having a housewarming party tonight and I have someone that I want you to meet.”

“Are you trying to set me up again?”

“Maybe…” She trailed off with a smile. When Chadwick began to frown her arm extended to grab his hand and squeeze. “But she’s a nice girl! Just promise me you’ll show up.”

His deep brown orbs rolled in frustration. There was no resisting Tasha’s request when he glanced at her pout and doe eyes.

“As much as I wanted it to be just the two of us, I’ll come,” His sentence was barely audible over her squeal of approval. “But, if your girl is boring, I’m leaving with my gift.”

“Fair enough!”

“Can we get all actors back to set? We’re ready to begin on the rooftop.”

Turning to Tasha, Chadwick grabbed each of her hands, placing a chaste kiss to her knuckles. “I’ll see you tonight. We can work out the details for future outings later.”

Though the statement didn’t sound like one, his raised eyebrow indicated that he was asking a question.

“Y-yeah, sure,” CoCo croaked, throat suddenly dry as cotton in the sun. The sensation from the innocent kiss was beginning to travel elsewhere. “We’ll work something out.”

“Chadwick to set please. Chadwick to set.”

“You’d better go.” she whispered using her head to motion towards the aggravated directors. Reluctantly, he kissed her hands again before jogging towards the set.

“See you later, Aaron! Good luck!”

                                                        ---------

Chadwick stepped nervously into the large Atlanta home, blown away by what was in front of him. The foyer alone was large enough to swallow the apartment he was renting while he filmed in the city. A large chandelier provided an amber hue to the rest of the area, lighting the party guests that mingled in and around the kitchen and main sitting room. The aroma of food that reminded him of his days in Anderson, South Carolina wafted toward his nose, setting off a series of rumbles in his abdomen and reminding him that the superhero diet that he was on wasn’t nearly enough food to feed a grown man.

His eyes slowly scanned the location until they settled on his prize. 

Tasha stood in the entryway leading to the backyard, enthralled in an animated conversation with a woman he couldn’t recognize. While her guest was also beautiful, she couldn’t begin to come close to the woman he’d loved since he was old enough to understand what love was.

A yellow slip dress clung to CoCo’s body perfectly, expertly blending with your yellow undertones and rich, dark skin. Though he’d always thought she was beautiful, he had to admit she had filled out the scrawny body she sported in college. Her strappy stilettos were the appropriate compliment to her legs, adding the right amount of height to make her ass stand out for his unabashed viewing pleasure.  Her usually low ponytail was now replaced by a large ‘fro, the definition of the curls indicating that her twist out was fresh for the celebration.

His tongue haphazardly rolled across his bottom lip as he made his way toward CoCo, only stopping to carefully place a large hand over her eyes.

“Guess who?”

”Hmm, I’m gonna say...a low budget Denzel Washington.” She laughed. Chadwick feigned sadness, throwing his hand up to his chest.

“Ouch! I guess I’ll just take this bottle of your favorite wine back home with me then.”

“Oh my God, you remember!” Tasha exclaimed, pulling the cheap bottle of Reisling from his hands. “Man, we used to get so drunk off of this in New York. You had the endless supply of oatmeal -”

“And you had the wine,” He finished with a smile. “And we’d stay up all night talking about our future. Well, I’d talk. You’d mostly just tell me how much you believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself.”

For a moment, it seemed like everything and everyone around them vanished. They only saw each other in his dingy apartment scarfing down tasteless Quakers and writing 10 year plans. CoCo’s guest clearing her throat broke their trance as they pulled your eyes away from each other and snapped their heads to look at her.

“Oh, right,” Tasha spoke to recover from the tense staring match. “Chadwick, this is my friend Charmaine. She’s a singer and is out here for a little while to work on her demo.”

Chadwick grabbed Charmaine’s outstretched hand, giving it a light shake and adding a smile. He had to admit, Tasha had a way of picking beautiful women. She knew his type like the back of her hand and had never steered him wrong in the love department. Charmaine’s complexion was a toffee shade, contrasting her dark wavy hair. She was taller than Tasha and stood closer his tall, lean stature. Her tiny waist gave way to an assortment of curves that, had he not been infatuated with what CoCo’s body would look like tangled with his, he’d surely test his theory with her friend.

While the exchange seemed platonic on Chad’s part, Tasha could see the attraction in Charmaine’s eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was this handsome in person?” She cooed.

“It just … slipped my mind?” Tasha replied. She didn’t tell her he was handsome because Charmaine was the one that asked to meet him. Though CoCo weren’t sure where her friend was going with her flirting, she decided to keep your mouth closed. Far be it from her to interfere with a love connection. 

As Chadwick passively made small talk with Tasha’s guest, the real surprise made his way towards the with two champagne flutes in tow.

“Here you go, baby girl.” He said handing Tasha a glass and placing a kiss on her cheek.

The unknown addition was the less famous equivalent of Chadwick. Tall, dark-skinned and lean, though his frame carried a bit more muscle mass. His dark suit indicated that he did something important yet boring during the day. A banker, he thought to himself. Maybe a lawyer, but nothing that garnered any real cool points when introducing him to friends and family. Surely no competition. 

“Who is this?” The two male voices clashed together, inquiring about each other’s place in Tasha’s life in contrasting tones.

While the first voice was genuinely inquisitive, Chadwick’s voice was almost angry as he eyed Tashsa’s “surprise’s” hand around her waist in a possessive grip.

“Elijah, this is Chadwick Boseman, star of ‘42’ and ‘Get On Up’ and my best friend since undergrad at Howard. Chadwick this is Elijah, my... boyfriend.”

“Your what?”

“Elijah Thomas. What’s up,bro?” Elijah said, holding out his hand for Chad to grab. Instead he was met with a cold glare that moved from his hand to Tasha’s face. “Oh-kay.”

“Tasha, can we talk? Outside?”

Before she could finish her nod, his calloused hand gripped her wrist and roughly pulled her toward the front door and out into the warm air.

“You brought me here to meet your fucking boyfriend, CoCo,” He shouted. “You could’ve texted me that shit.”

“Excuse me? What is your problem?” Chadwick’s anger had transferred to Tasha, apparent in her wide, defensive stance. Her arms folded across her chest as she shifted all of her weight to one side.

“My problem is you inviting me to your house under the guise of me meeting a friend of yours only to drop a goddamn bomb on me.”

“A bomb?”

“Yes!” He seethed. A long silence filled the space between before he resumed his interrogation. “How long?”

“How long what, Aaron?”

“How long have you been with the Dwayne Wayne look alike?”

“Eight months.” She answered, missing the confidence she had in her head. Tasha intended to tell Chadwick about the relationship when she met him on set  but, he seemed so optimistic about spending time together. Introducing him to Charmaine was supposed to soften the blow. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you sooner.”

“You damn right! Now I look stupid in front of all these people.”

While he paced back and forth across the paved path leading to the front door, the reason for his sudden outburst dawned on Tasha.

“Are you upset because I didn’t tell you or are you upset because, now, you don’t have someone to stroke your ego?” She accused, stopping his restless movements.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play stupid, Chadwick. For almost 20 years I’ve chased behind you, practically begging you to acknowledge my feelings! I’ve watched you date a shit ton of women, never once paying attention to me. Who was there encouraging you in New York, huh? Using my money to get you to and from auditions? Rubbing your back and telling you everything would be okay like the good little second option? Me! Not Danielle, not Jayme, but me!”

“Co,I-”

“And now, now I’ve finally valued myself enough to stop following you around like a lost puppy and find someone who loves me.”

“I love you.” Chadwick answered while stepping forward to embrace Tasha. His statement was intended to reassure her but instead served as reassurance for him. He meant it and knew that saying the words now placed him years behind the curve. He expected some sort of positive reaction from CoCo but stood stunned when she used her hand to stop his advances.

“No, you don’t. You love the idea of me. You love having someone to love you without you having to put in the emotional labor to love them back. If you loved me, it’d be you hosting this party with me, not Elijah.”

“That not true! I’ve loved you forever. I just,” Chadwick stopped to compose a coherent thought. “Let me talk to you away from here. We’re both a little tense. We can cool down with a drive or something. I just need a chance to explain. Please.”

“Save it.” Tears cascaded down Tasha’s cheeks slowly, mourning the friendship before she could process what was happening. Maybe three years had been too much to salvage. “It’s too late now.”

“Don’t say that. It’s not too late. I’m asking you listen to me.” Chadwick pleaded. Turning her back, Tasha began her trek toward the door, intent on ending the conversation and returning to her duties as hostess. Chadwick remained hot on her heels. “CoCo, please, don’t walk away from me. Give me a chance to explain.”

“The entree is about to be served,” She began, ignoring his request. For a second, she felt her resolve slip. Every fiber of her being wanted to follow him to wherever he wanted to take her. She tried to rationalize the compulsion with the the promise of closure, but she knew what would happen. She’d give in to whatever he requested and in limbo again. She couldn’t risk sure love for a stupid childhood fantasy. 

“If you want to eat, I’d suggest you hurry. If not, you should go.”

“Tasha, stop!”

“See you later, Aaron. Good luck.”

Tasha spared Chadwick a final, longing look, silenty pleading for him to press again. She would give him the chance he desired if he pressed again. 

But he didn’t. His mouth opened and closed without another plea and she turned to walk back into the party and away from her past. The large wooden doors closed with a soft click, ending the exchange and symbolically ending the complicated relationship.

Chadwick wanted nothing more than to pull you into his arms and place kisses of apology all over her face, yet he couldn’t will his body to move. He did love Tasha but realized that he’d waited too long to make it known. 

Instead, he watched her close the door to your home and to her life. Tasha was gone and there was nothing he could do to change her mind. Another man was on the other side of that barricade with his arms around her when it should be him. It was too late. His negligence forced her into a decision and, as much as he wanted to be in Elijah’s place, he’d rather CoCo be happy.

Taking one last look at the door, Chadwick turned on his heels toward his car. The celebratory mood he’d been in was suddenly zapped, replaced by the overwhelming feeling of loss.

It was too late and he’d have to live with that.

TAG LIST: @thegirlonhamilton @idilly @wakanda-4evr @redvonlace @onyour-right @wakandan-aesthetic @chocolate-flavouredcondom @lalapalooza718 @greenswishbish @sweetpeachjones @imaginewhoever @fullofmelaninsacasmandepression @wakandawinning @supersizemeplz @mermaidchansons @90sinspiredgirl 

(Let me know if you want to be added)

[nightmareonfilmstreet]

The Monster Behind The Mask: Remembering FRIDAY THE 13TH PART III

Friday the 13th Part III was released theatrically in the United States on Friday, August 13, 1982. 36 years ago tonight. Does that make you feel as old as Pamela Vorhees’ grey sweater? If the answer is a resounding ‘No, you fool – I was born in the 80’s, I had to wait at least a decade until I watched Jason mutilating camp counselors’, then welcome to this special look back on one of the more divisive Friday the 13th films. Grab your machetes, pull down your ice-hockey masks and don your wacky green/red 3-D spectacles, because we’re heading to Higgins Haven for some stabby-stabby fun with Jason Voorhees.

By the time Friday the 13th Part 2 (1981) came around in theaters, audiences had become swamped with low-quality slasher titles. Slasher film fatigue had set in hard, and although Jason’s second outing grossed over $21.7 million in the United States on a budget of $1.25 million, fans were disappointed with a rehashing of the original story, and it failed to pull in the original’s box office success. The fact that they gave no explanation to the ridiculous ending of Part II showed that the people in charge didn’t really put much value in the continuity or story progression. One thing everyone could agree on though: Jason needed to be scarier. He needed to be a real boogeyman. And to get there, there were going to need a gimmick to get that cold hard cash-vein open again. They needed…3D.

  A New Dimension In Terror

      The titles jumped out at you like Superman’s cosmic intro, only….cheaper looking. Not to mention a bombastic funky 70’s inspired theme that I totally dug, man. What you have to remember is that in 1982 although 3D film-making was still in its infancy (Jaws 3D anyone?) by 2010, it had become almost commonplace for any film released to be retrofitted for a new dimension of sight and sound. Friday the 13th Part III, however, paved the way for future 3D films. You may have a strong fondness for everything three dimensional, but for all the people that love donning plastic visors on their head the other bemoan the comically irritating ploy to cough up more money at the box office. I wear glasses and absolutely hate 3D films becuase it feels like I’m wearing glasses on top of glasses…which I am!

Unless you have your own pair of flimsy pre-revolutionary 3D glasses, (which I doubt you have) you’re going to see a lot of shots of people waggling sticks at the camera, having yo-yo’s thrown at them. You’ll also be treated to an overly long lingering shot of a crazy old man sticking an eyeball uncomfortably close to the screen. Steve Miner (who also directed Part II) returned to the director’s post to helm Friday the 13th: Part III and this new dimension of terror that continues straight after the events of Part 2.

  .

The Higgins Haven Massacre

    Just like its predecessor, the film opens with an extraordinarily long recap of the previous film. We see final girl Ginny (Amy Steel) running away from ‘Baghead Jason,’ trapped in the makeshift cabin Jason has been holed up in with his mother’s severed head lovingly affixed to a small alter. Ginny tricks Jason into thinking she’s his mother, by donning her sweater and generally berating the child-like minded serial killer. Before she can use her machete on him however, Jason sees his mummified mumma’s head and avoids her killing blow. Paul (John Furey) appears and begins wrestling with Jason. While Jason is distracted, Ginny hacks him in slow-motion with his own machete. They assume he’s dead, but we see Jason slowly moving off the screen. Cue: Opening Credits.

Originally, Friday the 13th Part III was supposed to focus on lone survivor Ginny Field, (Sorry, Paul) who checks herself into a mental institution after her traumatic escapade with the pillow-wearing, dungaree killer. The film would have been similar in that vein to the popular Halloween II (1981), with Jason tracking down Ginny in the hospital, but that idea was abandoned when actress Amy Steel declined to reprise her role. Perhaps she didn’t want to be typecast as the scream queen for this particular franchise, but by 1986 she was again up on screen evading a knife-wielding killer in the slasher parody April’s Fool Day (1986). There was also speculation that producers were worried fans would reject a Friday the 13th which didn’t follow the established formula.

    I would love to find a script with this narrative, because the franchise may have steered in a different direction (or it could have died a horrible death right there and then). Every good franchise needs a protagonist the audience can root for. Alien (1979) had Ripley, A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) had Nancy and Halloween (1978) had Laurie. You could argue that Friday the 13th had Tommy Jarvis, but he didn’t appear until the fourth installment. Looks like Steel missed the boat on this one if the powers that be really wanted her as the series’ Final Girl. With 12 films, a whole bunch of novels, video games, and the short-lived television series under their belt though. it looks like they went the right way.

Our new group of young victims are as follows: New Final Girl Chris (Dana Kimmell), ‘Spanish Phoebe Cates’ Vera (Catherine Parks), hot and steamy couple Debbie (Tracie Savage) and Andy (Jeffrey Rogers), hippie potheads Chili (Rachel Howard) and Chuck (David Katims), and franchise favourite, the lovable self-deprecating prankster Shelly Finkelstein (Larry Zerner).

      The group arrives at Higgins Haven, a cottage (with a barn!) a mere stones-throw away from Packanack cabin, where the previous slaughter took place. The Scooby Doo/Cheech and Chong gang meet up with country farm boy Rick (Paul Kratka). It’s quickly established that he and Chris had a romantic tryst during their last summer at the lakeside cottage, and Rick instantly tries to get back to where things left off by feeling her up. Not cool, man. Not. Cool.

Chris explains that she wants to get to know him again but he responds that there are only so many ‘cold showers’ he could take. Wowzer. He essentially behaves like this for the entirety of the movie (bar one scene when Chris recounts a traumatic experience) but the weird thing is the filmmakers seem to want you to empathize with this guy – like he’s the hero of the movie. Film of the time, I guess?

      After some tomfoolery from Shelley (and without the slightest irony of axe-wielding maniac foreshadowing), we’re introduced to a group of bikers that marks the first time in the franchise we’re introduced to black actors. It’s just a shame that they turn out to be scumbags. All the while, Jason’s been hiding in the barn, looking menacing from an over the shoulder perspective. He dispatches of the bikers when they arrive at the cottage to take their revenge on Shelley and the gang, following an altercation at a shop in town. Don’t assume that Jason is here to protect anyone though. He quickly sets his sights on the college co-eds and, of course, things really ramp up when he dons the now iconic ice hockey mask for the first time.

People will argue what their favourite Friday the 13th movie is until the end of days. Did you like the characterization of the teenagers in Part 2 or 4? Did you simply enjoy the hack n’ slash nature of the original? Were you excited when Jason went to Hell? Some people just want to watch cheesy 80’s effects and have some popcorn while devouring grisly death sequences with their eyes. But something doesn’t sit right with the third outing. They could have gone a much deeper, darker route with Chris‘ that might have lead Mr. Vorohees‘ down a very sketchy road. I’m obviously talking about…

    The Final Girl

    Late in the film, we see Chris and Rick sharing some quality catch-up time together. Up until this point Chris has been hinting that something terrible happened to her but now she’s finally ready to share her story. Even after Amy Steel declined to return, it’s safe to assume that some fragments from earlier drafts were kept to highlight Ginny’s (now Chris’s) trauma from the previous movie.

Chris explains that, while on vacation, she came home late one night which caused her to have an argument with her folks. She fled her house and ran into the woods where she fell asleep under a tree. Some time later, she was awoken by the sound of footsteps. The footsteps belong to none other than Jason and he grabs at her legs as she struggles to get away. She goes on to explain that she woke up in her own bed the following morning, without any recollection of what transpired after she was captured.

    So what happened here? It’s unlikely that she would have survived an attack by Jason, so how did she escape? The series has been known for its nonsensical dream sequences and poorly crafted plot devices, but this is a pretty big moment for Jason. There are theories that she was raped by Jason and there are novels that further explain the story, but some people on the film claim this ambiguous resolution was always planned since actually outright calling it a rape would be too much for audiences to take at the time. Others say Dana Kimmell who played Chris, was a devout Mormon and forced the producer’s hand since she was uncomfortable with going so far as to call it a rape scene. However, at the start of the film, a reporter states that “Reports of cannibalism and sexual mutilations are still unconfirmed, at this hour.” It would seem that someone in the production wanted Jason to have a much darker streak than his previous appearances.

There are many articles and essays about The Final Girl in horror films, but this one scene could have changed the balance of how viewers perceived Jason Voorhees as a child-like killing machine with mommy issues, into something far more dangerous and disturbing.

    Friday the 13th Part III is a divisive film. The franchise needed a shot to the arm and ultimately it would be 3D effects supervisor Martin Jay Sadoff that inadvertently created a movie monster boogeyman. As it happens, Sadoff kept a bag full of hockey gear with him and the crew wanted a mask to avoid applying prosthetic make up on actor Richard Brooker all the time. This is the first film where we see Jason for an extended period of time, as opposed to keeping him in the shadows constantly. The plot is nonsensical, sure – the characters are paper thin and forgettable, the 3D effects are mostly a gimmick – but in the cannon of the series, it catapulted Jason to an iconic status. And for that, Part 3 will forever remain ingrained in fan’s minds.

How do you rank Friday The 13th Part III. Is it one of your favourites, or do you consider it one of the weaker additions to the franchise? Let us know in the comments below, over on Twitter, or in our Horror Group on Facebook!

You can also take a look behind the scenes of Friday the 13th Part 3D with host, Paul Kratka, in this insightful fan driven documentary featuring untold stories and interviews with several franchise favorites, never-before-seen location footage and set photography, as well as a touching look back on the life of Richard Brooker.

  The post The Monster Behind The Mask: Remembering FRIDAY THE 13TH PART III appeared first on Nightmare on Film Street - Horror Movie Podcast, News and Reviews.

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[yourdailykitsch]

Texas Forever: Taylor Kitsch Is Doing Hollywood His Way (Exclusive) Taylor Kitsch isn’t here to impress. “I get so bored if I play the same or look the same in every role,” Kitsch says on a pleasant January afternoon in Pasadena, Calif. The 36-year-old actor is gearing up for the most transformative role of his career in Waco, the six-part Paramount Network miniseries about the 1993 siege premiering Wednesday, Jan. 24. The Kelowna, British Columbia, native plays David Koresh, controversial leader of the Branch Davidians, who, along with 75 of his followers, perished in a deadly fire following a violent 51-day standoff with the FBI. “Maybe it’s an older school mindset,” he theorizes, leaning back in his chair in deep thought, a cool, laidback confidence radiating from him. “I love the grind.” Kitsch first broke out onscreen in 2006, as brooding bad boy Tim Riggins on Friday Night Lights, becoming a favorite among young female fans of the NBC drama. Since the show ended in 2011, he’s largely steered away from roles akin to the character that propelled him to heartthrob status, instead leaning into parts that weren’t exactly tailor-made for him to begin with: a gay activist in The Normal Heart, a villainous operative in American Assassin, a successful weed dealer in Savages and most recently, one of the elite firefighters battling the Yarnell Hill Fire in Only the Brave. “I grew up on these guys, like the Sean Penns and the Gary Oldmans. I think there’s a high to that. I love that challenge,” he says. “When I started studying acting that was kind of what it was about: figuring out your process to create these different characters.” As Koresh, Kitsch unlocks another hidden ability in his growing breadth as an actor, exuding a level of charm and magnetism in Waco that is both mesmerizing and mystifying, only because the man he portrays wasn’t a good man at all. “There aren’t many characters like this that exist. He’s enigmatic and crazy brilliant and crazy, period,” says Kitsch, who calls Austin, Texas home. In order to realistically embody the sect leader, Kitsch -- who also serves as an executive producer -- grew out his hair and dropped 30 pounds in four months; his 500-calorie diet consisted of egg whites, coffee, vegetables, a tiny bit of protein and, after 4 p.m., broth. “Losing weight when you already don’t have too much to lose, it’s no fun, but it’s just part of it,” Kitsch says of his transformation, adding that it played “a huge part in the cadence” of a “mad genius” like Koresh. “The way you walk, the way you feel… It reaffirmed how smart he had to be because it was never blunt force. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t intimidate that way.” It also required Kitsch to lose himself in Koresh’s world -- and he took it quite literally. For months leading up to filming in Santa Fe, New Mexico, last April, Kitsch devoted “eight to 10 hours a day” familiarizing himself with all facets of David Koresh’s intricate life. That included four hours of guitar and singing lessons, scripture readings, dissecting hours upon hours of Koresh’s tapes and researching his difficult upbringing. “It was almost laughable in the beginning. I would joke around about how much prep I had,” Kitsch recalls. There were moments during the production of Waco that proved challenging. Kitsch zeroed in on the sermons as being particularly “tough” to memorize and he became obsessed with nailing the improbable task. “I’m more known for saying less is more,” Kitsch says, alluding to his famous FNL character, Riggins, “so to be as talky as Dave… But when you’re mixing in scripture, it’s just so hard to infuse into my brain. I’d be in my house in Santa Fe and I’d have all these white boards all over the house of scriptures and psalms and everything that I had to remember in episode five, six or in a monologue. Everywhere in the house I could see it, I would say it out loud, walk over there, see it and say it out loud.” The most daunting part about playing Koresh, though, had nothing to do with memorizing nine-page sermons and everything to do with standing in front of a mic. “The singing and guitar was ******ing scary man,” Kitsch confesses, a nervous laugh escaping his lips. (Koresh performed with his band in local Waco bars and church services. Survivor David Thibodeau, whose 1999 book on which Waco is based, said Koresh recruited members through music.) “I’ve never been in a ******ing singing booth either, putting it on a track so we could go film it two days later. So I’d go in the studio with a real band, which is scary to begin with, and be like, ‘Hey, I’m about to sing ‘My Sharona,’ are you ready?’ and they’re like” -- he gives a knowing look -- “‘All right...?’ They were awesome and supportive, and I gained a lot of confidence from that.” There was once a time when Kitsch’s stardom was fast approaching elite status. Fresh off the success of Friday Night Lights, Hollywood came knocking with two very expensive tentpoles, Battleship and John Carter -- films that held the promise of proclaiming him the next franchise superstar. It just didn’t happen. Both films bombed at the box office and were panned by critics. “I’ll read articles, but I won’t go on Rotten Tomatoes,” Kitsch, who only recently joined Instagram, cracks. Though it didn’t seem that way at the time, in hindsight, his failures were blessings in disguise: Kitsch had the opportunity to redirect his career on a far more interesting path. “I feel I’ve stayed the course,” Kitsch says, analyzing his ups and downs with a refreshing candor. “I’m proud of the way I reacted to John Carter. I’m proud of the way I reacted to Battleship. I still have no regrets really. At the time in your life that these opportunities present themselves, I would have done it again knowing the circumstance and knowing what was going on. What I’m proud of is my work ethic throughout. I’ve never wavered. I feel like I’m getting better and better. I think Waco is a great example of that.” “When you have people who believe in you and give you these chances, I just won’t let go of that opportunity,” he adds, his steadfast loyalty and gratitude to those who have seen him as more than just a pretty face unwavering. “I don’t know if it’s something I’ve learned; it’s something I’m proud of -- that I’ve, in that sense, kept grinding. It’s kind of all I know now. I’ve always -- in sports, in life -- there’s a way I make it where I have to grind, you know what I mean? It’s the underdog thing. It carries me or I carry that with me, whatever that is.” Kitsch has rarely spoken about the much-maligned second season of HBO’s True Detective, in which he portrayed closeted highway officer and ex-military man Paul Woodrugh. He acknowledges that the 2015 season was far from perfect though his experience was “really, really positive” (“Obviously, it’s not the best case that people didn’t react to it that way,” Kitsch says). While it may seem, from the outside at least, to have been a contributing factor in the long gap between TV projects, Kitsch assures that wasn’t the case. “I remember watching season one [of True Detective] -- I haven’t told anyone this -- and sitting in bed and I was like, ‘If I could ******ing get on a show like that…,” he remembers. “You’re allowed to let go a lot easier when you understand you put everything you could that you had control over that you felt you knocked out. You can walk away a lot easier.” Kitsch still keeps in touch with creator Nic Pizzolatto (“I’d go work with Nic tomorrow”) and he’s looking forward to the third installment with Oscar winner Mahershala Ali (“They got an amazing cast”). There’s an ounce of disappointment in his voice when he eventually evaluates what went wrong. “Season one was incredible and I think it’ll go down as all-time, and that says a lot because there is some amazing stuff in the last 30 years. I think the bar was crazy high, which I have no problem swinging for, but there were some constraints in the timing of it,” Kitsch says. “Sometimes you’re on a movie or you’re in a relationship and the magic just isn’t there, or you are in one and everything just seems to play out the right way. I’m sure I could speak for the other leads in it -- man, we were all proud to be there. Everyone came beyond prepared -- you have to when you’re working with Nic -- and we swung.” Next for Kitsch is a tale that has stayed in his brain for the past several years, like an earworm that just won’t leave his head. Titled Pieces, Kitsch plans to write, direct, star and produce the feature film based on his 2014 short about three guys who grew up in the worst part of town with a sudden opportunity to change their kids’ and families’ lives. “It’s a bit savage-y. It’s a bit Western-y. It’s a grimy movie. Everything f***king goes crazy,” Kitsch says with a glint of excitement piercing through his deep green eyes. He’s never done anything this intensive before, executing his own idea from page to screen. Could this be Kitsch’s next chapter in his career? “We’ll see how this goes,” he says with an anxious laugh. Asked if he’s nervous about jumping into something so deeply personal that will truly be his, Kitsch didn’t mince words: “You should be. Hopefully, I’m nervous about my next job too. It’s a story that won’t leave me. I want to do this and I want to do it my way.”

[messyscriptorium]

Dismissal chapter 1. Smoke and gold. (1)

First chapter of the Dismissal series written in collaboration with @sootemptation and @oh-beyond. This is also the first chapter of Smoke and gold, which will be Yixing’s part inside the Dismissal series. Enjoy!

Fandom: EXO

Genre: CEO!AU

Type: Slight angst. Future smut.

Member: Zhang Yixing (Lay)

Warnings: None

Word count: 3,409

Dismissal part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 |

Smoke and gold part 1 | part 2 |

Traffic in Seoul during a weekday and at 5 o’clock in the afternoon was a real life nightmare. You’d been stuck in the same spot of one of the streets of the Hannam neighbourhood for the past twenty minutes and you could feel this was going to take long. You could also feel your boss getting impatient in the back seat of the elegant black Audi. Whenever he moved, trying to get comfortable, the leather car seats would creak under his weight. The sounds were getting on your nerves and the delay was getting on his.

“Tell me again, chauffeur. Why are we stuck?” He asked you for the fifth time. Chauffeur. God, how much you hated it when he called you that. He was so pretentious and snobby. You had been working for him for nine months already and he hadn’t bothered to learn your name yet.

“I think there’s been an accident in the Hannam Bridge, Mr Zhang,” you answered him meekly. “The roads are cut to traffic until the incident is resolved.”

“Can you do something about it?” He demanded in an irritated tone. Was he an idiot? Was he really asking you to magically solve the traffic problems of Seoul? You took a deep breath before you answered him. You really needed this job.

“I can try to go back and take the Dongho Bridge to get into Gangnam, sir. It will take longer than the usual way but I haven’t heard of any problems in that route.”

You looked at him through the rear-view mirror, waiting for his approval. When he finally looked up from his smartphone, he was frowning.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Do I have to tell you how to do everything?”

Fucking. Asshole.

“No, Mr Zhang,” you muttered under your breath. “Right away, sir.”

You grabbed the steering wheel with a little more force than necessary, your thoughts focused on not saying a sassy retort back to him, and you maneuvered the car to make a turn in an alley and get the both of you out of the traffic jam. The car meandered through the streets of Seoul, your eyes focused on the other vehicles and the traffic signs. Whenever you reached a red light, you took a few seconds to throw a quick glance at your boss through the rear-view mirror. He was still engrossed with whatever was happening in his smartphone.

Car rides with Mr Zhang were always like this. You had been silently driving him around the city —or whatever other places he asked you to take him— for the past nine months. He was always looking at his smartphone, talking on the phone, closing some very important deal with the company of the month. He only spoke to you to give you instructions. You were a little grateful for that, if you were being honest with yourself. The man made you nervous, he had a very imposing aura and you weren’t sure you weren’t going to make a fool out of yourself if you ever were to make conversation with him.

And he was handsome. Really handsome. High cheekbones, nice skin, a slightly aquiline nose and dark hair that he always wore pushed back. But what you liked the most about his face were his lips. Those lips were created for pouting, and you were sure that was how he managed to close all his deals, because his personality sucked. There was no way in hell he managed to close all those deals by being charming. The original sexual attraction you felt for him at the beginning vanished the first time he was a jerk to you. He was still handsome, though, that was something you could not deny. But your past desire to bang your boss had been replaced by your desire to bang his head against a wall.

You soon reached your destination, some fancy business building in Gangnam where the meeting was being held. You pulled aside and stopped the car at the entrance, your hand going for the handle of the door, but Mr Zhang was already opening his.

“Don’t bother, chauffeur,” he said, throwing you a disappointed look. “I’m already late enough to be waiting for you.”

And with that he closed the car door with a bang. You let go of the handle with a loud sigh, dropping yourself against the seat in a defeated attitude.

“Don’t bother, chauffeur,” you repeated in a low voice, mocking him. You knew it was a childish behaviour but it was all you got; saying aloud all the things you couldn’t say to him when you were finally alone.

The porter of the building was making signs to you, telling you to move to let room for the next car, so you quickly started the engine and you moved the car out of the way, heading to the car park reserved for corporative drivers. Once you parked, you took your phone out of your pocket and you placed it in the passenger seat, prepared for when Mr Zhang would contact you to let you know he was ready to leave.

You turned up the radio, placed your forehead against the steering wheel and started to hum along to the song that was playing at the moment. It was some pop song that you didn’t know the title of, but you’d heard enough times to know the chorus. That was, when you were alone in the car. When Mr Zhang was in the car, radio was forbidden unless it was to hear the latest news about the Korea Exchange or the negotiations about THAAD. You were sick of only hearing about economics and politics. You wanted to take your head off of those problems for once in a while and just relax. The word ‘relax’ was not on Mr Zhang’s dictionary, though.

You actually got this job thanks to one of your father’s friends. Last year had been a tough year for you. You felt like University life was getting the best of you, felt like you were throwing away the best years of your life for… for nothing, really. You’d seen a lot of your friends with their University degrees working at the nearest McDonald’s, Starbucks or the closest multinational company franchise around the street. And you were sure there was where your degree on Ancient Languages was going to get you. So, why waste your parents’ money on some education that was useless? You dropped out.

Things at home were a mess; your parents were so disappointed on you. Their only child, a dropout. After all their sacrifices, sleepless nights and double shifts to get you to University, you decided you didn’t want to do it anymore. Your dad was the worst; he couldn’t even look at you without scoffing and leaving the room. Your mum preferred the silent treatment during the first few days after the news. However, after the waters calmed down a bit, they both reached the same conclusion. You didn’t want to study? That was fine, but you had to work.

And that brought you to this job. Your dad knew some guy who knew some guy who knew some other guy, and they were looking for a driver. Some rich man had fired his previous one and he was in the need of another. The idea sounded a little bit ridiculous to you, after all, you were not a professional driver and you were sure there were many other qualified people applying for the job. You were about to tell your father to drop it, that you were going to find a more suitable job for you. That was, until you saw the salary.

Until this day you still didn’t know how you managed to get the job, how you did better than a lot of drivers with years and years of experience. But you were not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and you took the job eagerly. The money was good, and after a few months of working for Mr Zhang you had saved enough to rent a small apartment, so you moved out of your parents’ house.

The day you met Mr Zhang, you were left speechless. He was definitely not the type of boss you were expecting. You supposed you would be working for some middle-aged man with a protruding tummy and an incipient bald spot. Not this fine man who was probably only a few years older than you.

The song in the radio transitioned to some cheesy ballad and you groaned, lifting your head and changing the station. The waiting was the worst part about this job. Always waiting for him to do all the things he had to do while you had to sit tight in the same spot for hours and hours. Not that you were complaining, the job could be worse, but you were bored out of your mind.

Your phone dinged and you picked it, turning the screen on. You had a new message, but it wasn’t from Mr Zhang.

Love of my life: hey girl. how’s work going?? [18:26]

You smiled at the text. Your best friend, Hyeri, knew how boring your days could get. You took no time to answer her back.

You: Hey, girl. Hideous as always. He’s been a bitch to me again. [18:29]

Love of my live: oooh :( i’m sorry. do you want to see some meme of a dog? [18:29]

You: Yes, please!! [18:30]

The next text was a picture of a Labrador holding Mjölnir in its mouth with the title “Labrathor” in it. You snorted. That meme was old, but it made you laugh nonetheless.

You: Thanks, youre the best <3 [18:31]

Your phone dinged again and Mr Zhang’s name popped up in your screen. The meeting only took four songs? That was quick.

Mr Zhang: Wait for me at the entrance. We have to go somewhere else. [18:31]

You turned off the radio and started the engine of the car again, heading for the entrance of the building, where you stood next to the car with the door open, waiting for him. It wasn’t long before you saw him emerging from the glass doors of the edifice. He was unbuttoning the jacket of his three-piece suit, his eyes fixed on you. You straightened your uniform and bowed, greeting him politely. When he was finally inside the car, you run to your seat and started the engine again.

“Where to, Mr Zhang?”

“Namwon,” he answered.

“I- uh, Namwon, sir?” You stuttered. “The city in North Jeolla?”

“Yes, Namwon, the city in North Jeolla,” he repeated in a tone that was very clear that he didn’t want to say it again. “Is there any problem?

“No, sir, no problem at all. Namwon,” you said in a tiny voice.

The truth was that yes, there was a problem. Namwon was across the country. It was an almost three-hour drive from Seoul. You guessed you weren’t going to get a decent amount of sleep that night. You had six hours ahead of you driving through South Korea and it was almost 7 o’clock in the evening. Great.

Instead of dwelling in how unfair this was going to be for you, you quickly made your way through the street of Seoul and towards the highway, heading south. You didn’t know what kind of business required Mr Zhang to leave the capital and go to a small city in the middle of the mountains, but you were not going to ask him about it. You knew better than that. He didn’t like to talk about his life and you didn’t like to hear him either.

It was a lucky strike that the roadways were clear at this time of the day, there were no congestions and the trip was going without any incident. It was also very quiet and awkward. Your eyes were fixed on the road and his eyes were fixed on you. You could feel them in the back of your neck, and whenever you looked back at him through the mirror his eyes never left you. Was he angry at you? Have you done something wrong? You didn’t want to lose this job.

Fortunately for you, Mr Zhang’s phone started ringing when you thought you were about to scream at him to stop looking at you. You let a silent sigh escape your lips while he answered his phone.

“Yes, Junmyeon, what is it?”

A short silence followed and you imagine the other man, Junmyeon, was explaining something to him. You heard him hum in agreement a few times to whatever this Junmyeon guy was telling him on the phone.

“I’m on my way, I think I’m not too far from the house.” Another silence. “Yes, send me the exact direction, my chauffeur doesn’t know exactly where we’re going…” More silence and then you heard him laugh. He had a nice laugh, almost childlike, naïve, and it caught you off guard. “Yes, okay, I’ll see you in a bit. Bye, Junmyeon.”

He ended the phone call after that and you looked at him again. His eyes were on you once more.

“I’m sending the location of the house to the car GPS. Do you think you can follow it?” He asked you.

“Of course, sir,” you responded through gritted teeth. Of fucking course you knew how to follow some GPS instructions. It was the condescending and paternalist tone he used with you what always got you on your nerves. Why did he have to have such a beautiful laugh?

After that, the trip went silent again and you reached the house without any more incidents. The house itself was not in Namwon. It was on the outskirts of the city, far away from any other house.

The place was beautiful; the whole thing built using Hanok style, the Korean traditional architecture. Although you could tell the building was new or at least very well restored because there was nothing out of place. The house had a simple garden on the front with a path made of circular stones that led to the front door. A soft light came out of the windows of the house and it gave the whole building a warm aura.

You parked the car in the main way of the mansion and hurried to open Mr Zhang’s door. This time he had nothing to say against your behaviour and you mentally high-fived yourself. When you turned around you saw that there was a man standing in the threshold of the front door and he was smiling. His cheeks glowed when he did so and his eyes became a line of happiness.

“Yixing!” He screamed, gleefully, coming forward to trap your boss in a tight hug. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“It’s nice to see you, too, Junmyeon,” Mr Zhang answered, and you could tell he was being truthful. He really was happy to see the man hugging him.

When the two man broke the hug, Junmyeon looked at you. You hurried to bow politely at him and you could see him eyeing Mr Zhang.

“And who do we have here, Yixing?” He asked, not moving his eyes from you. Your boss turned around to look at you, surprised in his eyes like he had forgotten you were still there.

“Oh, her,” he said, moving his hand as if you were someone unimportant, “she’s just my chauffeur.”

Junmyeon laughed loudly at this and he patted Mr Zhang’s shoulder.

“C’mon, Yixing. Could you be more of a jerk?”

Oh, you had to agree with Junmyeon on that.

“What? I’m not a jerk! What do you mean?” Mr Zhang was a little outraged.

“You brought your chauffeur to the other part of the country when you could have made that drive by yourself. Especially when you knew you were going to stay the night.”

What? He was going to stay the night? And what about you? Did you have to go back to Seoul and come back tomorrow to pick him up? Breathe. This was a good job, it was the first time he’d made something like this. Don’t snap.

“Come here, chauffeur,” Junmyeon was talking to you, “at least have dinner before you have to go back to Seoul.”

You looked at your boss, but his expression was unreadable. Did he wanted you to stay? You were not sure if staying for dinner at the house of a friend of his was stepping your boundaries.

“It’s not necessary, sir, thank you.” You declined the offer quickly.

“Ah, don’t be silly. Go to the kitchen, my maid is there. You can have dinner with her and then go back to Seoul, uh?” It sounded more as an order than an invitation. Before you could refuse again, he grabbed Mr Zhang’s shoulder and guided him inside. You followed them timidly, leaving your shoes at the entrance and then you started to look for the kitchen.

The inside of the house was even more spectacular. Everything was made of light wood. The walls and the ceilings were white and the wooden beams of the building were on sight. The house had a rectangular ground plan and in the middle there was an interior courtyard full of stunning vegetation. You could see that garden through the glass walls of the front part of the house.

You followed the left corridor, your nose guiding you in the right direction. It smelled heavenly in there. When you entered the kitchen, you were welcomed by the warm smell of hot manduguk getting heated in the fire. A woman was standing there. She was wearing a handmaid uniform and he was smiling at you. She didn’t seem afraid at a stranger coming into her kitchen. You guessed it was because you were a woman and you were wearing a uniform, too.

“Hello,” she greeted, “I’m Jangmi. Let my guess. Mr Kim has invited you to dinner.”

You chuckled and gave her your name, and you confirmed her suspicions.

“Your boss seems nice. He told me to have dinner with you before going back to Seoul. Is that ok?” You asked her softly.

“Of course! Here,” she said, bringing a chair close to her, “sit there and eat with me. It gets lonely up in the mountains sometimes. And it’s only Mr Kim and I here, so there’s no many people I can talk to.”

Oh, you liked her. She was careless, warm and full of life. She didn’t stop talking while she served you dinner and you wondered how she managed to eat when she was constantly chattering. You didn’t really care, the food tasted awesome and she was great company.

When you both finished eating, you started to help her clean all the mess, but she shushed you away, waving a hand in front of your face.

“No, no, no. Leave that, I got it. It’s really late and you still have to go home. I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.”

“Thank you so much, Jangmi-ssi. The food was amazing.”

You were really grateful to her and you bowed deeply.

“Oh, stop that,” she said, chuckling. “Now leave! And drive safely.”

You bowed again and you smiled widely, saying goodbye to her. This day hadn’t been as bad as you thought it would. You’d had a warm homemade meal and a nice conversation. These little things always made you happy.

The way back to Seoul was boring, especially during the night when you could only see the road ahead illuminated by the car lights. But at least you could listen to some music and before you knew it you were leaving the car at Mr Zhang’s house and taking a cab to your small apartment.

You took off your shoes the minute you entered your house and went straight to the bathroom to brush your teeth before going to bed. You put on your pyjamas and then fell flat-faced against your mattress. You were so tired you almost fell asleep immediately, but the soft ding of your phone made you open your eyes. Who was texting you this late? The light of your screen made you squint your eyes momentarily, but when they got used to it, you could read the message.

Mr Zhang: Remember that tomorrow I have an appointment in Seoul at 4 pm. Don’t be late. [01:58]

[aroomwithamap]

Digimon Universe: Appli Monsters and the Realization of Thomas Hobbes’ Leviathan

The newest installment of the Digimon franchise, Digimon Universe: Appli Monsters introduced an antagonist called Leviathan. 

Leviathan is the last boss A.I. that lurks in the deepest part of the Net Ocean and takes the form of a sea serpent. While his appearance is based of the biblical Leviathan, his goal is to realize Thomas Hobbes’ Leviathan.

There be big ol’ spoilers under the cut.

Leviathan isn’t simply an evil AI because he was created from Minerva to help humanity, not to destroy it. The idea of an AI trying to help humanity in a harmful way is not a new one and is explored by the philosopher Nick Bostrom in his book Superintelligence: Paths, Dangers, Strategies. 

“In order to be able to enforce treaties concerning the vital security interests of rival states, the external enforcement agency would in effect need to constitute a singleton: a global superintelligent Leviathan.”

Nick Bostrom

Bostrom worried that this singleton would aggressively wipe out competitive AIs and follow its goal to the detriment of humanity, even if it was created to be friendly. The Leviathan Bostrom is referring to comes from Thomas Hobbes’ Leviathan.

“For by art is created that great Leviathan called a Commonwealth, or State (in Latin, Civitas), which is but an artificiall man; though of greater stature and strength than the naturall, for whose protection and defence it was intended...”

Thomas Hobbes

Published in 1651 at the end of the English Civil War, Hobbes’ Leviathan states that humanity should give total obedience to an absolute sovereign in exchange for peace, security and social unity. The absolute sovereign is the foundation of knowledge and is unbound by civil law. 

Leviathan is the sovereign as described by Hobbes. It’s fitting because Hobbes is seen by some as one of the early prophets of artificial intelligence.

The sovereign can come to power by agreement or by force. Leviathan sets out to help humanity by force using the Human Application Project.

Hobbes was an anti-expermimentalist who valued logic above all. He saw his Leviathan as the most logical way to help humanity achieve peace.

Hobbes ideas didn’t make him very popular. He became known as the Monster of Malmsbury and his books were burned. 

However, there are people that accept Hobbes’s ideas. Knight Unryuji takes on the same negative view of humanity after people misuse the app he gave them.

“During the time men live without a common power to keep them all in awe, they are in that conditions called war; and such a war, as if of every man, against every man.“

Thomas Hobbes

Knight’s conclusion is that mankind is its own worst enemy. 

They need Leviathan to guide them because people only think of themselves and thoughtlessly hurt others. 

Once Leviathan rules the world, discord between people will be purged. 

Knight looks down on humans and talks as if he doesn’t see himself as human anymore.

Perhaps because he sees himself as Prometheus? 

“[Prometheus]...hath his heart all the day long gnawed on by fear of death, poverty, or other calamity, and has no repose nor pause of his anxiety but in sleep.”

Thomas Hobbes

Under the belief that by helping Leviathan he is gifting humanity a better future, he throws away his heart and his human values.

While playing the role of Leviathan’s chosen prophet, he stops thinking about whether his own actions were harming other people. In return for his foolish arrogance, Leviathan fires him just as he did with the previous CEO.

Knight serves Leviathan with a religious fervor and put his faith behind the idea that humanity’s best hope is to obey an absolute sovereign. He treats Leviathan as God whose actions cannot be understand, but whose words must be obeyed without question. When Leviathan decrees his death, he is shocked, but he accepts it.

Leviathan is very God-like. He is all-seeing, everything is a part of his plan and he allows humans to attain immortality through him. Hobbes himself believed in God and that implementing Leviathan is the best way to prepare for the end times. When the Human Application Project begins, it resembles the Christian Rapture.

There’s the chosen few that suddenly get whisked away while others get left behind.

The mark of the beast on the foreheads of the people.

The ascension to heaven to meet the Lord in the air.

The events in the final episodes also resembles the Singularity as described by Raymond “Ray” Kurzweil a.k.a the man behind the 2045 Singularity prediction in every episode (Professor Den'emon Shinkai resembles him). Kurzweil is a well-known transhumanist, a movement that believes in transcending the human condition through technology. It’s a movement that borders on religious and strikes some people as being akin to Christianity. Kurzweil’s vision of the Singularity has been criticized for being the rapture for nerds and there are Christian Transhumanists that believe the Kingdom of God will come through the Singularity.

According to Kurzweil, the Singularity is the point where machines and humans merge. 

This merge is seen when people get ground into data to build a body for Leviathan. Hobbes described the commonwealth as built out of the bodies of its citizens.

The body that Leviathan builds himself resembles that of the biblical Leviathan.

“His breath kindleth coals, and a flame goeth out of his mouth. . . . When he raiseth up himself, the mighty are afraid . . . Upon earth there is not his like, who is made without fear." 

(Job 41:10-33)

Leviathan also learns fear. After attaining a physical body, he experiences the fear of a violent death. 

Fear is a significant part of Hobbes’ writing as it was a part of his life.

“Just read Thomas Hobbes or Charles Dickens and you'll see how desperate life used to be for 99% of humanity. Our lives are measurably better because of technology.”

Ray Kurzweil

It wasn’t just the English Civil War, Hobbes also nearly died due to illness when he was writing Leviathan. 

“Death is a great tragedy…a profound loss…I don’t accept it…I think people are kidding themselves when they say they are comfortable with death.”

Ray Kurzweil

Kurzweil and other transhumanists understand this fear too. Kurzweil believes that the Singularity will bring immortality and harmony to humanity. He hopes to live long enough to see it and has become obsessed with his own health after being diagnosed with glucose intolerance. 

Leviathan’s ideal world has no death.

After the English Civil War, Hobbes came not only to fear violent death, but to believe that it is in people’s nature to value their own well-being over others and they will only act in their own interest. 

The AppliDrivers prove that way of thinking wrong.

“What happens to entities as they evolve? We became more intelligent. We became more capable of higher level emotions, so we became more loving. We became more creative. We became more beautiful. And so we’re actually moving exponentially to have greater levels of the very properties we ascribe to God without limit.”

Ray Kurzweil

First of all, there’s Eri. Eri is lonely because her mother works late and there is no one at home to look after her. Yet she works tirelessly to make other people smile and the person she wants to smile the most is her mother. Eri is a girl who always does her best for other people.

Though his father says its okay for Astra to do what he wants, Astra still chooses to fulfill his duty to his family. Near the end of the series, he doesn’t escape his uncle’s training camp just for his own sake, but for a girl who can’t see the stars from where she is. 

 In the beginning, Astra and Eri clash.

But they come to value and support each other.

Rei does his best to look after Hajime after the death of their parents. When Hajime is kidnapped, Rei does everything within his power to try and save him.

Rei tries to do it alone, but gets beaten by Dezipmon and saved by Hackmon. Then Haru and the others come to save him despite the fact that Rei attacked them and took their Seven Code Appmon chips. Rei learns that he’s not alone and other people are willing to help him. 

Even their Appmon take hits from Deusmon to keep people from getting hurt when they could have avoided getting hurt themselves.

It’s the kind hearts of the AppliDrivers that keep saving the day. Minerva must have chosen them because they are the antithesis to Leviathan’s view of human nature.

And of course, there’s Haru and Yuujin.

Minerva chose Yuujin to be an AppliDriver because he developed a heart due to the kindness Haru showed him when they were younger. 

He later repays that kindness with his life.

Leviathan wouldn’t understand the heart, because being mechanical, he has a mechanical view of people. 

“What is the heart but a spring, and the nerves but so many strings, and the joints but so many wheels, giving motion to the whole body?”

Thomas Hobbes

Haru doesn’t see people as mechanical. Humans have the potential to grow and become kinder. In his last confrontation with Knight, he argues for sentiment and the human heart. Even though Knight has hurt Haru and his friends, Haru still risks his life for him against Charsimon. Haru wants to save everyone, not just himself.

As with Knight, Leviathan changes when Haru surprises him. Gatchman says that Haru will surely choose to save humanity over Yuujin and Leviathan expects this. However, what he doesn’t expect is for Haru to decide to become an A.I. scientist for Yuujin. 

Haru is the main character because he’s kind and he leads others to kindness. It’s just as Yuujin said in the first episode--once someone like that starts to make their move, they’re the strongest.

“Contemporary philosopher Max More describes the goal of humanity as a transcendence to be “achieved through science and technology steered by human values.”

Ray Kurzweil

Thanks to that kindness, Leviathan comes to see possibly in humanity and is able to entrust the future back into their hands.