#its chris pine naturally i had to

[sweeetcheeese]

for @santathegrey <3 

[violetsiren90]

Evergreen | Bang Chan/Reader

Pairing: wolf hybrid!Bang Chan x human!f!Reader

(A Nothing But You universe fic)

Genre: hybrid AU; one-shot; established relationship; domestic fluff; slice of life; mountain living; pregnancy

Word Count: 1689

Summary: Seasons change, life moves on - but some things stay the same.

Content Warning: PG-13 for themes but my page and all its content are 18+ (minors, dni); wolf hybrid rut; mentions of knotting and marking; mentions of rut symptoms that include insomnia and lack of appetite; deep emotions; the use of "your" and "belonging" in the sense of committed love NOT ownership; pregnancy; mentions of different states of undress; domesticity and shared domestic responsibility; homesteading; Chris being the sweetest and most caring 😭💕; Chris chopping wood 😳; mentions of food and eating; implications of sexual intimacy, parenthood

Author's Note: I guess I went and fell in love with these two. This is a companion one-shot to Nothing But You. This one-shot is a different flavor, not as soft and cozy all the way through - there are more notes here, I think. Some sweeter, some sharper, but in the end, it's still them. I wanted to peek into their lives and see how they lived and loved. 🥰

If no one has told you yet today, please know that you are so loved, and so worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

~January~

Snow burdens the branches of the pines, the bitter North wind whistling between the trees, through the darkness, and over the blanket of fresh powder shrouding the forest floor. The mountains are sleeping, but your wolf is awake.

He nearly collapses, sinking to his knees as he shuts the cabin door. You spring up from your place by the fire to rush to him, but he holds up a hand, a growl rumbling low in his chest. You freeze. Panting, he slowly raises his face. Snowflakes cling to his lashes and dust over his head and shoulders. The dusky circles under his brown eyes speak of weariness, yet their expression is dark and wild. His nose is flushed from the chill. Beads of sweat quiver on his brow.

The fever still hasn't broken.

It appeared two days ago, with other sudden changes. Christopher has grown restless and short-tempered, and won't sleep in your bed. He smells intoxicatingly of cedar wood and amber.

You've been through it all before, his annual rut at the end of winter - four days of watching him endure the throes of primal agony. He would steal away at night, to hunt, your proximity far too overwhelming for his heightened senses and desires. Unchecked he would fail to stop himself. He would take you, mark you, knot you.

He hadn't in the four years you'd shared a bed and the comfort of the other's flesh. You'd spoken of the mating rites, but he always held off, afraid to break you. So protective of you always, and without a second a thought to himself.

You respected his space, his wishes, attempting to help him navigate the torment of his natural longings as best you could.

But this year it had taken him like a wild fire. The fever wouldn't break. He wouldn't sleep or eat. And now, here he was, half frozen and shivering on the floor.

No more.

You slowly cross to pull him up against his weak protesting. You peel away his frost-damp clothes and drag his heavy frame to rest upon the bed. With his last strength he tries to push you away, but you slip under the blankets beside him, pulling him into your arms.

His eyes flutter shut as he curls against you and nuzzles into your neck, whimpering that when he wakes it will be too hard for him to hold back.

You tell him not to try.

You tell him that you need him, want him - all of him. This part too, with all the others.
You assure him softly that you're not afraid, nor should he fear to make you his...you already belong to one another, after all.

You whisper that you love him.

Christopher exhales, tears trickling down his cheeks to mingle with the sweat and melted snow. You hold him to your breast, brushing soft kisses into his hair.

Cedar wood and amber.

~April~

You shake out a flannel shirt, crinkled and bunched from wringing to hang it on the line that stretches from the side of the cabin to a young yellow birch within the clearing. You smile as you fasten it with clips. He had worn it on the first day he visited the diner. It was faded then, and it has grown more timeworn still. But the fabric is thick, the seams hand-sewn, and if the dye has begun to abandon the thread it is only ever the softer. 

Strong and soft, like him.

The warblers are singing in the branches of the white pines as they busily fashion their nests. You stroke a hand down over the little bump of your belly, musing over the nesting that has started to change the trappings of your own little home. There's still plenty of time, but Christopher's excitement has poured forth in the form of hard work, and you're certain that when your time comes he'll have stored by enough for the next three winters yet.

You hear the rumbling of his truck a ways off. He left in the wee hours, the bed loaded down with wares to sell to suppliers in town. By the time you've strung up the last piece of washing he's already at the mouth of the trail, his arms laden with flowers and parcels wrapped in brown paper. The light wash of his denim shirt brings out the early kisses of the spring sunshine on his honeyed skin.

You follow him into the house where he puts your wildflowers into a vase and insists that you sit while he tends to lunch. Unwrapping the brown paper packages you find a set of pretty maternity pajamas, a box of chocolates, and the goat's milk soap you like. 

He's already eaten half his sandwich when he sets yours down, and you tug his wrist, pulling him into a chair to prevent him from setting out to work yet again. 

When the dishes are cleared you won't let him leave. He'd work every second of every day and well into many nights if you let him. But today you want him to rest. It's a mild and lovely afternoon and the chores are done. Other things can wait.

You sit across his lap on the porch swing he built two summers before. Your arms encircle one of his as you rest your head on his shoulder. 

His lips brush your forehead as his thumb caresses the little curved scar where the slope of your shoulder meets your neck. The one that means you belong to him and no one else.

The birds sing and the swing creaks.


~July~

He calls you from around the other side of the house. You draw an arm over your dripping brow and struggle up from where you're crouched to spread a batch of plump, ripe blackberries between the screens of the drying rack. There are still so many. Some you'll turn into jam. Christopher will eat the rest. He loves them. You rest the colander still half-full with berries against the full swell of your belly, wrapping an arm about the rim to keep it in place. 

You're hot and uncomfortable these days. But, when the morning's work is through, you'll go down to the lake together to shed the day's heat in the cool, still waters. You'd been every afternoon that week. Christopher was a strong swimmer, and would stay in far longer while you sat on the shady bank with a book. When he finally quit the water yesterday, he'd never found his clothes - instead he'd pressed you back into the lush green grass and made you sigh his name. 

As you round the far side of the cabin your eyes catch his form. He stands under the sweltering sun, stripped down to pair of fitted khaki work pants and thick suede boots. His muscular chest is slicked with sweat and he stands, panting, with his weight pressed into his right hip. He holds an axe in his hand.

His mouth pulls up at the corner and his tail swishes at the site of you. You tuck yourself against him wrapping your free arm around his damp waist. Oh how you want to swim. To hold his strong body in the dark water.

He gestures with the axe at what he's fitted together with stripped pieces of soft pine. A little cradle. He nudges it with his foot, setting it to rock. You bring a blackberry to his lips and he accepts it.

You kiss him.

Salty skin and summer fruit.


~October~

Your eyes flutter open to the sound of little cries. You sit up and stretch, blinking in the softness of the early autumn light.

You inhale deeply. Cinnamon and hickory smoke.

Outside the air is growing crisp and the leaves of the deciduous trees are blushing and abandoning their hosts, covering the floor of the wood in their pageantry. Fruit and game have begun to grow scarce as the forest prepares to enter the long slumber of the colder months. Nights require fires more often than not.

There is a small fire crackling now. A little black cauldron hangs over the flames, and you can smell the porridge simmering within. The man you love sits in a rocking chair near the warmth, a little bundle in his arms. He looks up at you as you rise and he smiles. He's been all smiles lately. In fact, you don't think the little dimple has left his cheek since he met the tiny she-wolf in his arms two weeks ago.

He says she looks like you, but all you see in her beautiful little features is Christopher. She has two tiny fuzzy ears and a darling little tale.

You reach down to stroke her fat cheek and your heart aches.

It aches from love, so much of it.

When the doctor placed her in your arms a part of your heart that you hadn't known existed burst to beating. You thought you loved the man who had knitted her inside you as much as you were able, but you had been ignorant in that respect as well. When he took your daughter in his arms and looked down on her face you thought that there wasn't room in your chest for things so vast, so deep.

You named her Hannah, for the sister her father had lost. It meant "grace".

So fitting, you think.

You move your fingers into Christopher's curls and he looks up at you. His brown eyes are soft and warm. The lovely eyes you saw that first day at the general store - the same through every changing season.

The maple and the birch will wax and wane, but not the cedar, not the pine.

Some things will remain.

And he is evergreen.
 

-Fin-

[yeahspider]

let the light in

Ve’s note - soft fic about chan going back home to australia . this is so fluffy and warm . he is just so lovely and writing about him makes me happy(im drunk as usual so this is sparsely proofread my bad) no warnings sfw !! enjoy <3

the sun was setting as you were finishing up your closing tasks at your parent's record store. picking up a record from the bin you blew gently on it, watching as dust flew off and into the air. this place could use a good dusting you thought to yourself. the clock hit five signifying the end of your shift. at 5:01 the bell above the door chimed alerting you that someone entered.

“we’re closed sorry” you quickly said without looking at who entered. you were tired and ready to eat. you went to grab your purse and head out but stopped seeing the person standing in the doorway. it felt like your heart jumped out of your chest when you made eye contact with Chris.

“I know I'm sorry I was just hoping you’d make an exception for an old friend,” he said with a shy smile. a smile that made your heart swell even if it's been years since you’ve seen it in person. the setting sun illuminated his body. hair in its naturally curly state, teeth on full display. he looked like the young boy who you once loved. the same boy who chased his dream but broke your heart in the process. you could never blame him though. it’s not like you ever confessed. too scared of rejection and unwilling to hold him back from his potential.

“of course, I always have time for you its been so long,” you say to him as you usher him to a chair. your mind still catching up to the fact that he was actually in front of you. tentatively you reached out and brushed his hand, discreetly checking to see if he was real. this was a moment you’ve only dreamed of. chris was still all smiles as you sat across from him.

“i’m sorry i never came to see you sooner. i always meant to but i just chickened out everytime.” he admitted with a blush rising to his cheeks . you wanted to cup his face to feel the blood rush under his skin..

“Why would you chicken out am I that scary,” you say jokingly.

“well i used to have a massive crush on you that i never really got over and i didn’t want it to be weird between us. didn’t want to ruin the familiarity.” he said as a blush ran up his neck. familiarity ? what does that even mean ? and what did he mean he had feeling sfor you? that your pining wasnt singular, but shared. your mind races as seconds drag on after his confession. you cant seem to find the words to decribe what you feel right now. are you relieved? scared? happy? nothing feels quite right.

"I'm sorry i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. let's just forget about it. how have you been?" Chris said trying to save the moment. You could see the embarrassment tinted on his ears.

"wait- you didnt make me uncomfortable i was just shocked. i ..." you hesiated to admit you felt the same way. but he waited for you . your chris . ever so patient. ever so understanding.

"i've had a crush pn you for years." you finally admit. feeling a weight lift off your chest, the pressure in your ears lessening. "ever since you first picked me up from that party years ago. youve always been there for me, even when you were thousands of miles away you checked up on me. so the feelings only grew overtime."

"Are you serious? You've had feelings for me this whole time? I thought you just viewed me as some foolishly ambitious boy. I never thought you would want someone like me." he says, with a look between sadness and relief on his face. you guys have been dancing around each other for years. two idiots in love.

"you were never a fool to me channie. I believed in you wholeheartedly and still do. i always knew you would make your dreams happen."

"let me take you out somewhere. we should reconnenct i want to relearn everything about you, if youll let me." chris said. nothing but smiles and dimples.

of course you agreed. you let him learn everything as long as you could do the same

[rayaverra]

Confessions // Luke Castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

genre: fluff.

summary: Luke finally found the courage to confess his feelings to you.

warnings: none

wc: 965

notes: I didn't know how to end this so the ending is a bit rushed.

english is not my first language, so there may be mistakes.

・❥・༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶・❥・

The first time Luke saw you was in the Big House. He was there for a counselors meeting when he saw you talking with Chiron.

"I made sure each pegasus had their hay and a fresh bucket of water. I even checked their hooves and brushed them down. Everything's shipshape in the stables!" You explained to Chiron, not noticing Luke at first.

Chiron nodded approvingly. "That's wonderful, [y/n]. Taking care of the pegasi is a big responsibility, and you handled it brilliantly. Your dedication is truly appreciated." He smiled at you, and Luke felt his heart cartwheel as your lips pulled up into a grin that he thought was the definition of beauty.

He coughed.

Chiron turned his head and nodded. "Luke, you're early. We'll start once the other counselors arrive. In the meantime, [y/n] was informing me about her stable duties. You're welcome to share your updates as well."

"No specific updates, sir. Just eager to hear about the camping trip plans and ready to contribute." He glanced at you. "I'm Luke, by the way, counselor of Cabin 11. Nice to meet you." He held out his hand, and when you took it, the warmth that flooded him was phenomenal. It was like a volcano had erupted in his heart, with lava flowing through every fiber of his being.

"I'm [y/n]. I've heard a lot about you, it's nice to finally meet you." You smiled, and Luke's heart continued to perform acrobatics.

You let go of his hand, and he immediately felt a subtle loss from your fleeting connection slipping away. You exchanged a few last words with Chiron and left the room as the rest of the councilors started arriving one by one.

Luke watched you walk until he couldn't see you anymore. He let out a sigh, turning to face Chiron, who was staring at him smugly.

He rolled his eyes, knowing that your image would grace his dreams at night until he saw you around camp again.

 

It had been three months since that day in the Big House. Since then, you had started to hang out with Luke more, met the rest of the Hermes cabin, were totally freaked out when the Stoll brothers pulled out one of their pranks on you, and Luke had finally gathered the courage to ask you out.

His face glowed when you said yes. For what seemed like the first time since Thalia's incident, Luke was happy. No, not happy. Delighted.

There weren't words to describe how he felt when he was with you. You were everything he could have ever dreamed of. He even found himself going to his half-brothers for advice.

"Hey, Chris, I need your help."

"Sure, what's up?"

"It's about [y/n]"

 

"So, what were you and Chris talking about earlier?"

You were sitting on a weathered wooden bench underneath the sprawling canopy of old pine trees nestled beside a serene lake, its waters reflecting the warm hues of the setting sun.

"What are you talking about?" He looked at you and whined. A chorus of crickets joined the symphony of nature as he avoided your gaze.

"Earlier today, you and Chris were talking, and when I showed up, you stopped." You remarked. "Is there something I should know?"

Luke sighed. The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows on the forest floor. The scent of pine mingled with the aroma of the nearby campfire, creating the perfect atmosphere for what Luke had in mind. It's time, he thought to himself.

"Luke, what's wrong?" You were concerned when he took longer to reply.

"I went to Chris for advice. Advice on how to tell you something I've wanted to for a long time..." He reached to grab your hand, the volcano inside him erupting like it did every time he touched you.

"[y/n], when I'm with you, I'm this whole other person, but I'm also myself. I know it probably doesn't make sense, but I guess what I'm trying to say is that I like being around you. I like the person you make me and the person you let me be." As he spoke, the weight lifted from his shoulders. "You're perfect in every way possible, and you just- you drive me crazy."

Your eyes sparkled with a mixture of surprise and joy as you absorbed his heartfelt words. A radiant smile spread across your face without you realizing it. "Luke, wh- what are you saying?" Your words echoed as a whisper and blended with the symphony of nature around you.

"I love you, [y/n]" He whispered, locking his blue eyes with yours.

Your breath caught in your throat, and a gentle blush crept across your cheeks. Your eyes held a soft intensity as you gazed into Luke's, overwhelmed by the sincerity of his confession.

"I love you too," you whispered, and in that moment, your lips met in a tender, lingering kiss, sealing the unspoken emotions that had danced in the air.

As your lips intertwined passionately, Luke pulled you onto his lap, allowing you to encircle your arms around his neck. Your hands delved into his hair, tugging at strands that sent shivers through him. Simultaneously, his hands explored your back, encountering the fabric of your shirt like an impassable barrier. A desperate need to feel your skin lingered in the air.

His hands were still dancing across your back, making their way down to feel the exposed skin by your waistband. He delighted in the goosebumps that formed as he stroked the skin there, and he felt you pull away, looking him in the eyes.

In that moment, under the starlit sky, your shared admission marked the beginning of a new chapter for you and Luke, a story filled with shared dreams and the joy of discovering love.

[realchemistry]

"Masks" - A few things about tonight's episode and what's ahead

~9-1-1 spoilers ahead~

Let me get this out of the way first: Eddie sucking on that ring pop... I never understood the "don't ask me the color of anything" and "babygirl" concepts more than I did then. Also: both Buck and Eddie having the same Christmas picture of them with Chris and abuela? I'm fine. The ending montage with Eddie being alone looking at his pic from Halloween with Chris... no, I'm really, I'm okay.

The BuckandEddie of it all:

It's interesting that they kept pairing Eddie up with other members of the team during calls but Eddie was all over Buck still. Like... they are partners, and they continue to be like at the pumpkin call (LUBE? PLEASE, I AM BEGGING), but Eddie was with Buck at the hospital (both for Buck and Denny) and at Buck's loft and at the station too.

Buck and Eddie are always entangled in each other's business but this season's been like a whole other level. The framing, the dialogue, everything about them is pointed as fuck and it's no coincidence (the lube, I can't get over it!!!), of that I'm sure.

This episode, which had a lot of Buck and T, had a ton of Eddie in between them which allowed us to see their dynamic and it was a sight. We had Eddie in the hospital room, by Buck's bedside, asking the doctor questions, while T was on the other side of the door, observing. Eddie was there to tend to Buck's boils and reassure him it'd be fine and even bet and shake on it to try and keep Buck from spiraling while T was just... there. Eddie was apparently distracted on his phone, sucking on a freaking ring lollipop (looking at Buck like that!!!!!) but he was actually well in tune with Buck and what he was doing and Buck protested his boyfriend's claims that he had been picking on his boils but he didn't argue with Eddie about it at all.

So yeah, Buck has a boyfriend that could fit right in, being a firefighter and getting more into the 118's business and sharing time with Buck and his BFF in the whole wide world. This episode showed in part how T didn't fit exactly right (why were they not sleeping on the bed, I'm so confused...), how Buck realized that and sent him a message that he wanted him to. And I think they will make it past the next episode, actually, because I have a feeling that if tptb are going where we all think/want them to go with Eddie, they might want to establish that on its own.

And they would also want to do what Oliver said and take it slow on the Buddie front, and I know it's been slow enough, but Oliver and Ryan have alluded to wanting the story to develop naturally and to not have them be bi/gay and into each other because of the message that could send. I have a feeling that means reaching Buddie after both have time to go through self-realizations away from each other and having Buck be in a relationship actually serves that scenario better. At least for a little while, then they can let the pining begin.

Some other things:

The thing about this show that I both adore and dislike is that I know every main is gonna be okay (there was only ever one exception to this) and they're not going to kill one of their children either. So I simply couldn't get into the mindset of feeling sad over Denny dying because I knew he wasn't going to.

I love that we got more HenRen and I wish next time Karen and Eddie share a scene, it'll be a less tragic one. I love Denny so much, the actor is so good and such a cutie, I'm glad he got to shine. It's also funny that once you get old enough in the show, you're fair game to be in harm's way. Rite of passage.

Chim was so scary and cute and great as well. I just think Kenny's so good at everything and the show sometimes failed to properly take advantage of his skills so I'm glad they're finally getting to showcase his range fully and all at once.

Peter was also having the time of his life being a carefree version of Bobby, and I'm here for it.

Josh's whole costume being Eddie's mustache. Plus Buck also having one. Ryan, the man that you are.

Maddie, once again, going for the kitty ears.

The teacher... I know her pain.

About the next episode ~more spoilers~:

They really are having an "Eddie Begins" type of emergency on an episode called "Confessions" which will focus on Eddie. I'm sure it's gonna be just fine. I'm sure nothing major will happen with my favorite character in the world, Eddie Díaz. I'm sure.

[annielolz]

The air was crisp and fresh, carrying the mingling scents of pine and damp earth. The gentle rustle of leaves danced around the two of you as you set up the tent, laughter echoing between the trees every time a pole slipped or a stake missed its mark. Your hands brushed against each other as you worked, sending a thrill down your spine that you tried to ignore. Chris always had a knack for making even the simplest tasks feel electric.

As twilight approached, you sat around the campfire, the crackling flames casting flickering shadows on your faces. Chris grabbed a couple of marshmallows, skewering them expertly on long sticks. "Want to roast some s'mores?" he asked, his tone playful, suggesting it was more than a simple snack - it was an invitation to share a moment, an experience together.

You nodded, feeling the warmth radiating from the fire and from the boy beside you. As the marshmallows slowly browned, you glanced at Chris. He wore a boyish smile, the kind that made your heart race just a little faster. "You know," he said, breaking the comfortable silence, "I always imagined camping would be way better with someone special."

Your cheeks burned slightly, and you met his gaze, the moment suspended in the air between you. Under the vast starry sky, with the world around you fading into the background, it felt like anything could happen.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady the flutter of nerves in your stomach. The way he looked at you, with those bright, curious eyes, made you wonder if he felt the same electrifying connection. You quickly turned your attention back to the fire, fiddling with the stick that held your marshmallow as it began to blister and char.

“Yeah, it’s definitely better with someone to share it with,” you managed, your voice barely a whisper over the gentle crackling of the flames. “I mean, it’s nice to escape the regular routine. Just… being out here, it feels… different.”

Chris nodded, reaching over to pull the perfectly roasted marshmallow off his stick. He squished it between two graham crackers and held it out toward you. “Here, you need to try this. I think I nailed it.”

You took the s’more from him, your fingers grazing his once more, sending another rush of warmth through you. As you bit into the sweet, gooey treat, you couldn’t help but laugh at the chocolate smeared on your cheek. Chris chuckled, his laughter rich and warm, and you felt a rush of joy at the sound.

“Looks like someone’s ready for the s’more championships,” he teased, reaching over to wipe the smear with his thumb. The soft touch lingered longer than necessary, and you found yourself captivated by the moment.

"Maybe I need some training. I've never been good at the marshmallow game," you quipped, trying to lighten the sudden weight of the silence that followed. But in your heart, you knew — training wasn't what you wanted. You wanted more moments like this, locked in a tangle of laughter and warmth.

As the fire flickered, shadows danced around you, and the air felt heavy with unspoken words. You could hear the whisper of leaves in the gentle breeze, nature humming its own tune, urging you both to reveal what lay beneath the surface.

"Do you ever think about us?" Chris suddenly asked, his expression turning serious.

His question hung in the air, and your heart began to race. You risked a glance at him, searching for any sign of what he might mean. Was he thinking what you were thinking?

"Us?" You echoed, your voice trembling slightly.

Chris looked down, flicking off the ash from his stick. “Yeah. I mean, I know we’re friends… but sometimes I wonder if it’s more than that for either of us.”

Your breath caught. It was as though the stars above were holding their breath, waiting for your reply. “I think so too,” you admitted, a smile breaking through your fear. You felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. “I think I've been feeling that way for a while..."

His gaze met yours then, intense and sincere. “Really?”

You nodded, your heart racing at the thought that this was the moment you were both teetering on the edge of. “Yeah, I just didn’t know if you … would…”

If he would feel the same; if he would want this, want you.

Chris leaned closer, the warm glow of the fire illuminating his features, making his eyes burn with an inner fire of their own. “I do. I want us. I have wanted us.”

A thrill shot through you and, without thinking, you leaned in too. In that suspended moment, the world around you faded; the crackling fire, the rustling leaves, even the chill in the air melted away as the space between you closed.

Then, in the blink of an eye, your lips met in a soft, hesitant kiss. It was sweet like the s’mores, igniting every nerve in your body, and as you pulled away, you both wore matching grins that spoke volumes.

The world resumed its course, the sounds of nature flooding back, but now they felt wrapped in a magical hush. Chris chuckled, and you couldn’t help but laugh as well, a delightful echo that mingled with the rustle of the woods.

“So, what now?” you asked, your heart still racing.

He leaned back against a tree, his eyes twinkling under the starlight. “How about we make more s’mores first?”

“Deal!” you agreed, reaching for another marshmallow. But as you roasted it over the fire, you realized that this time, you weren’t just camping with a friend. No, this was the start of a thousand shared adventures, painted with laughter, warmth, and whispered secrets beneath the stars.

w/c : 969

a/n : eee okay first lil blurb? idrk how to feel abt this though i feel like it was kinda rushedd...

[themosleyreview]

The Mosley Review: Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves

Like all of you, I have been starving for a good high fantasy epic that was fun, feels fresh and tangible. I too was there for the opening night of what would go down in history as one of the worst representations of a beloved fantasy game. The 2000 version of Dungeons & Dragons was........well, garbage. I had fun with certain aspects of that film as a kid, but even I didn't know what the film was trying to accomplish. Fast forward 23 years later and the titular game has reached a new height in popularity. I myself have never played but thanks to shows like Critical Role, Stranger Things, and my entry point The Legend of Vox Machina, I have become a little more versed in the terminology, creatures, classes and rules. I learned that anything goes as you the player are thrust into a new world that the dungeon master has crafted and how the roll of the dice determines your fate and the fate of your fellow party members. That's exactly the feeling I got from this film and I was happy to see that the filmmakers did their homework and made a fun experience of a film. Did it always hit its mark as an engaging and compelling story though? Not really. Yeah there is alot of cheesy storytelling and dialogue in the film that I felt could've flowed better. The film had hilarious moments of comedy and joy, but lacked the necessary depth that could've been mined from such a rich set up. The story was incredibly predictable and there was so much happening at times that it was dizzying. It couldn't truly hone in on what tone they were going for. A number of characters were very surface level and a particular characters' story payoff wasn't earned at all and rushed.

Chris Pine was fun and charming as the bumbling bard Edgin Darvis. I loved his sense of humor along the adventure and how he played an unconventional type of hero which was that was refreshing. Chloe Coleman is always a joy to see on screen and as his daughter Kira, she was good. Their chemistry was good in the film as we get to see their strained relationship play out. Michelle Rodriguez was really fun as the barbarian Holga Kilgore. She's gets the majority of the action sequences in the film and she handles them as great as you'd expect. Her friendship with Edgin was the soul of the film and her motherly bond with Kira was great. Justice Smith was good as the half-elf sorcerer Simon Aumar. I liked his mixture of using practical items and actual magic. He struggle to become self-confident was interesting to watch, but it felt extremely rushed as he reaches a resolution that didn't feel earned. Sophia Lillis was decent as the tiefling druid Doric. I thought her escape sequence was amazingly shot and the variety of animals she changes into was well executed, but she was a very one note character. Her backstory gives the reason for constant stoic nature, but doesn't really give her much to do outside of that. Hugh Grant was mostly playing himself as the rogue con man Forge Fitzwilliam. He was good, but he felt more like a greedy game show host that kept his word, but in a round about way. Regé-Jean Page was perfect as the paladin, Xenk Yendar. He truly had fun being the stereotypical pure hearted hero to the point where it is almost comical how straight and narrow the character was. He had an awesome fight scene in the second act of the film and it was wonderfully shot. Daisy Head was very much the antagonist of the film Sofina, a Red Wizard of Thay. She had one mode in the film and that was be creepy while rarely blinking. She nailed it and she felt like the mid level boss in a video game that has some challenge, but is easily defeated once you see the pattern.

The score by Lorne Balfe was epic and fun in the best way. There were moments where the score overpowered the sound in the film that it almost drowned out the dialogue. Visually the film is stunning and the effects were excellent. The dragon sequence and final battle of the film were a visual spectacle. What I truly loved was the practical creatures in the film and how gorgeous they looked. The opening scene blew me away with the use of more practical locals and creatures. The sound design in the film was good, but unbalanced when it came to dialogue and the surrounding thunderous sounds made it hard to understand what was said. As I said before, the character growth was truly rushed and the tone was a bit all over the place. The extremely predictable plot and weak villains made for an almost inconsequential finale. So the real questions need to be asked. Was it better than the 2000 film? Alot better. Was it the best high fantasy storytelling I've seen a long time? Nope. Was it enjoyable? Yeah, in that streaming on Netflix type of way. To me this was good matinee film that plays it safe and doesn't leave you with anything that’s particularly memorable. I would like to see a sequel or another film under the D&D brand, but this time more focused and a little bit more serious. I liked the fun aspect of it, but there were times where it seriously needed to grow up. Let me know what you thought of the film or my review in the comments below. Thanks for reading!

[jackalsinthekitchen]

pop report #2 (1/14/23 & TTH 1/17/23)

get thee behind us, Santa — the public is having a blue post-Christmas

My late best friend and creative partner had a [reaches briefly around for a euphemism for "obsession"] fixation [ugh, no. sorry] with the charts. For a person of a certain age, physical or spiritual, this is the sensitive, creative, indoor equivalent of being preoccupied with baseball stats, another thing that come to think of it I don't know if any young people still care about. It transmits a love of something human and occasionally chaotic into something mathematical, something with a fun competitive element, something you can give the right brain a break over from time to time.

My friend didn't exclusively derive pleasure from the charts. In fact, in the pieces of our hours-long conversations devoted to his impressions of current Billboard action, he was often a little rattled. Though sweeter and more patient than the majority of people, my friend had a natural tight wind he sometimes played up for comic effect, and sometimes succumbed to in the throes of a petty (or regular-strength) stressor. I can't elaborate easily on why his relationship with the charts was so complicated, but they're a fickle point of focus for sure. Their vagaries are best explained by authorities like Chris Molanphy, and my friend's carefully plotted counter-methods for measurement went with him to his grave, so I have my own barriers to comprehending the nitty gritty of it all. But I like the pithy way his ex put it as we reminisced about him: "He wanted to make sense of them".

To me, it was a beautiful idiosyncrasy — I'm not blogging about the subject to sate some OCD impulse or, God knows, indulge any math skills. I want to surmise things about American democracy from a weekly election that comes with no negative consequences: a pop music election. Still, my friend would speak of message boards full of ardent, number-crunching chart-watchers, where he was able to get his more impassioned objections affirmed. It's become common knowledge (for people who think about it, anyway) that streaming has affected the way single sales are calculated on the charts. Molanphy has many great blogs about this over at Slate — it's how Taylor Swift can casually fill all ten slots one week.

The Billboard chart's perpetual awkwardness in adapting out of the days when a hit song hit because people went to the store and bought it is I think why my boy came to prefer Spotify's daily tracker, Today's Top Hits. Even with my general ignorance about the calculation process (and my unwillingness to bore myself learning about it [sorry again]), I can conceive of how the all-streaming model is a more direct reflection of public taste. Not everyone uses Spotify, of course, but enough of everyone does for their most-played songs to give a fair picture of what's stuck in people's heads.

I see today [editor's note: due to technical difficulties and also the regular passage of time, you are reading this one or more days in the future] that the ten winners are the same set as Saturday's, reshuffled. By my casual perception, the TTH turnaround is akin to Billboard's — glacially slow but for whims, inevitabilities and flashes-in-the-pan. But there are key differences between the two singles lists — for instance, Miley Cyrus' new single is #1 on Spotify and absent on Billboard, since they need time to catch up, which bolsters the notion that the Spotify list is more representative. On both lists, the Christmas spirit has left without a trace, and on Billboard a number of hits have returned from being shoved down under a heap of presents, brushing the pine needles off their sweaters, which are perhaps red or green but not both.

Per Billboard, "Anti-Hero" is back on top, and "Unholy" once again its fiercest rival, with SZA's probably #1-destined "Kill Bill" in show. Then David Guetta's moderately off-putting "Blue" thing, and Drake's latest invitation to wonder how he sells so many records when he could not sound more indifferent. Then Metro Boomin's moving "Creepin" and the irrepressible "As it Was". The Weeknd's sensibly seductive "Die for You" is a special curiosity — six years old, online traction finally put it on the chart, the Glass Animals effect. It's not on the Top Hits chart, where in 2022 Kate Bush made waves well before she earned Billboard's "real hit" credit.

Anyway, then it's "Bad Habit" and "Cuff It", but cuff it — today we'll be talking about Today's Top Hits.

Today's Top Hit is the aforementioned new Miley Cyrus song. I have to admit an ignorance over much of Ms. Cyrus nee Montana's music, and if I took the time to sufficiently acquaint myself with it I would be publishing this next Friday. But I do subscribe to the (often passionately stated) theory that "Party in the USA" deserves a slot among the great American records, a banger and a lifter of the highest order, its confectioner's glaze and credulous way of coming on beguiling and not exactly untrue to life, respectively. I do think Cyrus was shrewd enough at that point to be playing up the hey! I'm just a kid! angle for her audience. My issue is that I'm not so sure she's gotten more shrewd since.

Since I could never hope to put it better than one of the world's greatest poets, I consider it a social responsibility to leave you with this in lieu of a complete next paragraph:

(please forgive the rest of this post for not being as good as that)

Any artist who can inspire something like this is worth respecting on some level, even a singles artist who only hits every so often. "Flowers" certainly doesn't hit like a mistake. Its groove is funky, sensuous and insistent, and like most of the MiCy singles that make it to a regular radio rotation it's clean enough to slip on. There's internet burble about its being a swipe of some sort at a Hemsworth of some sort, and as standard-bearers for female liberation go Cyrus certainly never hedges. But it's a friendly, inhabitable little battle cry, like "Malibu", literally the last of her hits I recall, emanating a certain peace that feels both healthy and contagious.

Today's next-top hit hits me harder and harder each time, though like the entry above, it comes on slinky, sidling into your soul with unveiled but unamplified intentions. "I might kill my ex... not the best idea..." "I did it all for love..." "Kill Bill" is an instant phrasemaker, armed with a set of hooks bound to leave marks the closer you get to them. The lyric captures well and recognizably the state of being in that fresh hurt, the one where the resentment simmers the hottest and you want to lash out at every hint of instigation. But it really moves, rolling and rocking like the waves on that striking cover art, and the song's eerie slow open would hitch you hard to any subsequent rhythm or atmosphere.

"Unholy" continues its unholy reign everywhere, widening my grin every time it accosts me. I decided to Google the lyrics, because I realized I knew almost none of them. "At the body shop". The obvious next phrase. Oh yeah, "daddy's getting hot", before those two. "Oh, we oh we oh." I appreciate that the lyrics begin with "Mummy". Some cultures are different, and none is better than the other, and equitable representation of all weird pet names we use for our m(u)ms is ideal in culture and society at large. I, personally, have always had an affection for the Irish "mam", and I don't even necessarily want to tell you what I have my own mom saved as in my phone (it's "Mamaloma"). Anyway, the lyrics are OK. They fill space, incisively.

"Creepin" is a dour song that nevertheless begins discordantly with "Metro Boomin want some more!" But otherwise it's the type of sad-with-a-sinister-element pop the Weeknd made his name laying claim to. It picks up, of course, and the lyric is interesting, a plea to an unproven-unfaithful lover to keep their affairs, such as they exist, a secret for his sanity. The anguish is kind of overstated, which makes the proceedings hard to take totally seriously, while 21 Savage's mean-mug verse feels a bit humorless. But yet again it's a catchy, well-produced song illustrating an emotion a lot of folks could really lean into in a bedroom or car in the wee small hours.

Heartache is hitting hard in the charts around these parts, with Shakira and Bizarrap's "Bzrp" (excuse me) session. The song's novel titlelessness (well, not novel I guess — it's #53) invites questions as to what the song would be called if it were called something. "Fuck You Pique" seems the standing consensus, and surely Loba would be more artful if she cared to find titling time. Either way, the song is a hoot, the sort of combo of chords and beat and soothing-to-rousing electronic sounds that make you go, "yeah, he definitely deserves this". In any case, I can't speak Spanish, so I have no idea how pointed it is. I did read about some of its lyrical puns, and admired them.

RAYE is a British (you knew that, you can heart it) singer of whom I've never heard. What does this say about me? Did you know about RAYE? I'm a white, male, 35-year-old New Jerseyan in Texas. I know a great deal — I think I can safely say great deal — about pop, but I spend too much time in its past and not half enough in its futuristic present. I don't know what RAYE is doing for the world at this particular moment. But her doomy banger "Escapism" (sorry, "Escapism.") is a real good time, and between its polysyllabic lyric, punk-ass vocal and dramatic-yet-kinetic overall mood, it takes you places some of these sedate higher-charting hits don't seem especially interested in. We're all tired, sure. But can't we be less tired yet?

Ms. Swift takes #7, incidentally my favorite # and also said to be lucky if you happened not to know that. Her fuckup anthem continues to soothe this and probably a zillion other souls. Next in line comes a title that reflects what "Anti-Hero" does, "Calm[s you] Down", a song by Rema featuring Selena Gomez. The rhythm is steadfast, the setting is elegant (possibly-real plucked guitars and bowed strings), and the hustling vocal is softly invigorating. Selena Gomez, as usual, sounds broken, projecting storms of emotion through a veil of china-doll indifference. The shrewd and always understated performer that she is, she pulls the song to an emotional level Rema leaves entirely to her.

Central Cee's "Let Go" is a highly affecting, piano-dominated track, the sort of brokenhearted confession that flips from resigned, drumless chorus to fast-trap patterns under a frantic rap. Once again, open-wound regret is the vibe, and it makes one wonder if America is sending an SOS or if it's just all the superstars who are feeling moody. Even the upbeat songs in this lineup enjoy their fill of minor keys, and the ones that don't aren't exactly easygoing. Maybe that's why "Flowers" is sprouting through the ash of grief and the... uh... mulch of heartbreak. Maybe the sweet momentum of healing and realizing it, the new and overwhelming rush of self-empowerment, is still more of what we want than what we've got.

"You know, it's not the same as it was." Got that right, Harry. Inescapable change continues to, if not get us down, throw us off somewhat, like sun-dazed Styles, dreamily sashaying around his house. But it doesn't mean we can't make the most of riding out the new waves.

[creepylittlethings]

The trailhead looked innocuous enough, a worn wooden sign marking the entrance to Whispering Pines Nature Reserve. Jake, Mia, and Chris had been planning this camping trip for months, eager to escape the city and lose themselves in the wilderness for a weekend.

As they stepped into the forest, the canopy overhead seemed to swallow the sunlight, casting everything in a green-tinted twilight. The air felt thick, almost viscous, muffling their footsteps on the leaf-strewn path.

"This place is gorgeous," Mia breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

"This place is gorgeous," came the echo, a heartbeat later. But something was… off. The tone was slightly deeper, the cadence just a touch slower.

Jake chuckled nervously. "That's some echo, huh?"

"That's some echo, huh?" The response was immediate this time, matching Jake's pitch perfectly, but with an unsettling undertone of amusement that hadn't been present in the original.

Chris frowned. "Guys, I don't like this. Maybe we should turn back."

Before the words had fully left his mouth, they heard: "Guys, I don't like this. Maybe we should turn back." The mimicry was flawless, indistinguishable from Chris's actual voice.

Mia grabbed Jake's arm. "What's going on?" she hissed.

The forest answered: "What's going on?" But this time, it continued: "This isn't natural. We need to get out of here."

The three friends stared at each other in horror. Those were Mia's exact thoughts, but she hadn't spoken them aloud.

Jake opened his mouth to suggest they leave, but before he could utter a sound, his own voice rang out from the trees: "We're lost. The trail is gone. It's toying with us."

Panic rising, they spun around, realizing with growing dread that Jake's disembodied voice was right – the path they'd been following had vanished, leaving only an unbroken expanse of trees in every direction.

Chris's voice, tinged with terror, echoed through the woods: "It's in our heads. It knows everything we're thinking."

As darkness fell, their own voices surrounded them, a cacophony of their deepest fears and secrets. They huddled together, unsure if the whispers were coming from the forest or their own minds.

In the distance, a twig snapped. Three pairs of eyes darted towards the sound, straining to see through the gloom. A figure emerged from behind a gnarled oak, its form obscured by shadow.

It stepped into a shaft of fading light, revealing a face that was at once familiar and impossibly wrong. It was as if someone had taken features from each of them and cobbled together a grotesque imitation of a human visage.

When it spoke, it was with a voice that was an unsettling blend of all three of theirs:

"Welcome home. We've been waiting for you to join us."

As the creature took another step forward, the friends realized with mounting horror that the trees around them were filled with similar figures, each one a twisted reflection of themselves.

The forest had been listening, learning, and now… it was ready to become them.

[open-hearth-rpg]

#RPGCovers Week Fourteen Emerald Empire (2018) Chris Ostrowski

So I have to start by explaining that I own just about every printed corebook, supplement, and module for Legend of the Five Rings across all five editions. It’s also a game I’ve literally never played, except for a couple of hacked forays using the setting for Rolemaster, Storyteller & Free from the Yoke. And yet looking back across at those, only one cover had really stuck with me, this one from the most recent edition. 

It’s not that the earlier covers are bad, but there’s a weird mix of book design focus over great and unique cover imagery (especially the WotC line and the fourth edition). Where it doesn’t we might instead get repurposed art from the cards– pretty but often not used in a great way. And a lot of it falls into the trap common throughout L5R art: characters decidedly white or at least non-Asian. 

This cover doesn't have to worry about that– our main cover figure is shown in silhouette. They’re genderless, and we can’t even tell which clan they’re from– usually a big deal in l5R art. The horse is beautifully dressed and arrayed. Notably it's the one place in the image where we see red– the cloth and tassels there matching a little to the bookmark banner with the title and logo. 

We start dark at the bottom– broken slightly by a band of fog which is lighter, but doesn’t actually reveal anything more. It creates uncertainty and depth. We can imagine what lies between our rider, passing these twisting pine trees, and their destination.They have to get past that foggy valley before they can even reach the midground. 

And honestly that midground of terraced farms, integrated with the landscape of rolling hills and trees, is majestic. It is a place managed by the hands of people, yet still seeming natural. It also wonderfully captures and reveals the light. It's a bad comparison probably but it reminds me a little of JMW Turner and how he shows light on landscapes. 

Then we’re at the top slice where we see more clouds, suggesting morning and perhaps yet another valley. They roil like their own set of hills, blending gently into the sky. At the top, nearly washed out by the light is the castle, the destination for our character and our gaze. The whole picture promises something grand about our setting: sweeping, overwhelming, and open to us to explore. 

It’s a great cover on its own– and honestly the best one in the long history of the game. It captures something that other L5R books don’t, especially those aimed at presenting the world of Rokugan. 

A final note, again I’m not an art critic and I don’t pretend to know color theory, but there’s something striking about the way the artist uses light blues and purple blues in combination with medium to dark greens. I feel like it shouldn’t work– like they’re too close on the color wheel, but somehow the palette holds together here.

[rookie-critic]

Don't Worry Darling (2022, dir. Olivia Wilde) - review by Rookie-Critic

Don't Worry Darling was not anywhere close to as bad as I've been seeing people say it is. I'm not sure I would say it was necessarily good, but I just wanted to say up top that it isn't bad by any means. Now, a lot of what I'm saying here is pretty much what a lot of the critics are saying, so it might sound a little echo-y in here, but it is how I really feel.First off, what I like about the film was that, from a technical standpoint, it was fantastic: lighting, editing, directing, production design, cinematography, it all looked gorgeous and in that way it is a very pleasant viewing experience. The first 2 acts are gripping and entertaining and the acting, especially from Florence Pugh and Chris Pine, is phenomenal. Pugh, at times, is almost single-handedly carrying the film on her back, and just continues to prove how much of a talent she is with every new film she puts out.

Ok, now let's talk about what I thought didn't work. Harry Styles, regrettably, is the one acting weak point in the entire film. His accent work in this is beyond strange. At the start, it feels like he is attempting, poorly, to do an American accent. As the film progresses, it feels like his accent slips more and more into British, but not even his natural British accent. It more sounds like an American poorly attempting a British accent. Without saying too much about the plot, there are arguments people could make as to why that is, but this really didn't feel intentional. Maybe it just stands out because everyone else is doing a real bang-up job and Pugh, who shares a lot of her screen time with Styles and is also British, is doing a flawless American accent.

The other big problem, the biggest I would say, is the ending. I'm not even talking about the big reveal of the answer to the central mystery, I had no qualms with that, but the last 10-to-15 minutes of the film is, frankly, just a giant mess. There are multiple plot lines that feel shoe-horned into a conclusion in an attempt to wrap up all loose ends before the final moment, while there are other subplots that don't get closure at all. In fact, there is one in particular that is incredibly confusing, and made to raise more questions from a narrative perspective than it answers. I hate that this wasn't good. Olivia Wilde is a wonderful filmmaker (or, at least, her first film, the hilarious coming-of-age comedy Booksmart, was wonderful), and by all accounts this film and its message are incredibly well-intentioned. Sure, it is a conversation that many a film before this one has had with its audience, but it is one that is incredibly important and, sadly, still needs to be had. I really wanted to like this despite all the bad press and the drama, but the truth is that, for me, it couldn't stick the landing on a very promising premise, and ended up just being ok overall.

Score: 6/10

Currently streaming on HBO Max.

[vasiktomis]

Enclosed Spaces (18+)

Pairing: Travis Hackett/Gender-neutral Reader. Solo. Rating: Explicit (Minors do NOT interact). Word Count: ~4000. Warnings: Sexualisation of a cop (yuck). Passing mentions of gore and violence. Depictions of paranoia. Read it on Ao3!

Tags: No use of Y/N. Light angst. Self-hatred. Masturbation. Pining. Premature ejaculation.

There’s a particular sense of dreariness in diners nowadays, Sheriff Hackett has decided.

It wasn’t always like this. Back before smartphones and the internet — hell, even cable TV — before technology and fast tourism had made damn clear how cut-off from society old communities like North Kill were, Travis had spent his adolescence looking forward to breakfast outings wedged in vinyl booths with his family on this particular stretch of forest road. Even in his youth, it was decades past its zeitgeist, but as a rare treat offered by parents who prided themselves on self-sustainability, he and his brothers had once loved coming here.

The Hacketts were an introverted people by nature, but they held the respect of the county-folk for their dedication to keeping North Kill from being wiped off the map. As time passed and the population dwindled, only the most well-established locals seemed to persevere. Businesses rotated through owners almost yearly. One brother was born. Then the next. Travis's family, while ever-changing, were among the only constants he knew. Them, and this meagre little diner, nestled in the trees. 

It was always the same. 

Bobby, forever the baby, would be shoved between Ma and Pa’s elbows while they traded conversation with whatever locals stopped by to chat. Chris, while closer to Bobby's age, suffered enough middle child syndrome to boost him half a decade to keep up with Travis. On their side of the booth, the two of them would brag to each other in the hopes of catching the attention of pretty wait staff. 'A copperhead bit me once while I was hunting with Pa, but I was too strong and the poison gave me powers. I have the tooth, still.' Chris would almost yell to him over the table, both of them fixated on the 20-something that leaned across them to top up Ma's coffee.

“He’s so cute.” The waitress would coo at Bobby, not even sparing his competing older brothers a glance while the kid carved yet another crayon into the tabletop, fingers and chin caked with grease and maple imitation. 

Those moments were the only instance Travis could recall hating one of his own. 

The years came and went. Times changed, but out as far as they were, the routine didn’t. Pocket money and independence turned the spot into a hangout in a pinch. Tourists came through in increasingly modernised cars and wardrobes while their little town — if you could even call it that — drew further and further out of time. Architecture dulled. Classics became white noise. 

Family breakfasts dwindled in adulthood, but Travis still frequented for the 24-hour service that shift-work had forced him to appreciate. It was familiar. Quiet. That same side of the same booth, in the same dingy little diner. It had become an especially common habit for him in recent years to hang around the place after clocking off. Ever since Silas had been on the run, it was a handy spot to eavesdrop on late-night chatter when one had otherwise silence awaiting them back home. If there wasn't some muttered tip to follow up on, there was at least the clatter of plates. Some casual wave. A ‘hey, Sheriff’ — hell, even a drunk to ferry home — or lock-up, behaviour permitting. 

In the present, there's no better reason to be here than you. 

There's you, bearing a welcoming smile, returning to his booth like clockwork while the hours pass in the night to top up his coffee. You, who combats the loneliness and dreariness of this out-of-time place with ill-fitted enthusiasm and daily anecdotes ranging from boring to bizarre. Something about you teems with stubborn, relentless, fascinating life, and when there's nothing else to observe in the room, Travis takes great pleasure in simply existing in your proximity.

He doesn’t speak to you. Not in a familiar sense. Small-talk is a hard habit to break out of when you’d been working here so many years and all he’d grown accustomed to trading for your words were unamused hums and taciturn, one-word responses. He likes to think that despite the lack of chatter, however, your short interactions had stacked enough familiarity over all this time to transcend conversation. Even if he wouldn't dare to ever address you by your first name, Travis likes to think you enjoy having him around.

At least, that’s what he tells himself every time you linger at his table, slowing the stream of coffee from the pot to enquire about his day and he chokes out a curt reply that gives you absolutely nothing to work with. It’s what he tells himself when he barely returns your smiles, far too concerned with family business, work, and nerves to regard you until it’s too late. When you’re already tending to another patron or shuffling menus or cleaning tables. Gaze captured by your retreating form only when the pressure of your attention is no longer on him. 

Existing in your proximity is doable. Comfortable. Talking to you, on the other hand; he can't think of anything more terrifying.

Tonight — however —  is a little different.

It’s almost sundown when Travis is finishing up. Bobby and his parents are waiting on him to prep for tonight’s hunt. Chris and the kids are most likely sedated and chained up by now. 

You’re tugging the ties of your apron as you approach, signalling the end of your shift, and his heart sinks in relief at the prospect that you’ll be home instead of here for the full moon. Unfortunately for the both of you, that weight shifting off his shoulders looks a whole lot more like annoyance on him. 

Despite his refusal to match your energy, you seem to hold out. “You need a top-up before I head out for the night, Sheriff?” You ask, beaming bright enough that he can barely stand to meet your eye until you’re finally faltering.

Travis’s jaw rolls. Words jam on his tongue. Silence. At least until he averts his gaze to the setting sun out the window and stands from his seat. 

“Making sure you’re the one getting the tip, huh?” He grunts. A breath leaves you. Polite laughter. He’s almost dizzy at the sound. “I’m headed out, too. I’ll, uh— I’ll walk you out.” 

He overtakes you on the way to the door, maybe a little too briskly while you stop to grab your things from behind the counter. It feels almost like it could've been an evasion if he willed it, but you're catching up as he slows to escort you out. His intention is to be gentlemanly; commit to the absolute bare minimum of courtesy — maybe even catch a whiff of whatever shampoo you use while you're close enough.

Fuck his life that a group of 5 just so happens to walk through the door as soon as he opens it, ignoring the two of you completely on their way past. Travis's molars grind. Whatever. Maybe that albino shit might scare some manners into them if they stay out too late.

His failed attempt has him distracted enough that he forgets his intention completely and walks outside first, only just remembering to hold the fucking thing for you once you’re already outside. 

The summer air offers no reprieve from the heat crawling up the back of his neck while you follow him down the steps, gaze flickering at him in his periphery. It's a battle not to turn his back to you when he slows to a stop in the parking lot — to just pretend you don't exist for a few seconds and claw back a little dignity.

Jesus fucking Christ, he hates himself. 

He rifles through his wallet for whatever note seems appropriately sizeable enough to communicate a job well done without seeming like he’s playing favourites among the staff, and half-expects you to disappear the moment the cash is in your hand. 

You do not. 

“Thanks." You mutter, shrugging a shoulder. The act of giving you money while you're not in uniform almost feels dirty. He's on the verge of asking for it back before the two of you continue on your way. "You, uh, you walking me to my car?"

The curious tilt of your head has Travis frowning. Then, he realises he’s been meeting your stride in the opposite direction of his patrol car.

“Is there a problem?"

"No, you're welcome to." There's amusement in your tone. "Safest 30 steps I'll ever take."

"Sure."

Christ, why couldn’t he have been born with a little of Chris’s charisma? Why does walking you across a parking lot have to be so painful? 

“You headed back to the station tonight?"

“Nope.” Fuck. Elaborate, dumbass. “I’m — Out. Off. For the night.”

In the corner of his eye, your gaze wanders elsewhere. The prickling in the back of his neck eases. 

“Got any plans?”

“Family business.” 

“Which one?”

That almost makes him chuckle. “The hunting one.”

It wasn’t strictly a lie. 

“Anything after?” You ask.

“All-nighter. Bastard we’ve been after’s migrated back up North from the sounds of it."

“Sounds pretty elusive."

“You don’t know the half of it.” The corners of Travis’s mouth tug. 

For just a moment, while you’re rounding the driver's side of your car and the two of you slow to a stop, he’s finally able to trade a friendly expression with you.  

Silence stretches between you for a moment, a little more comfortable now that you seem to be the one searching for your words. With the tables turned, watching your gaze flicker to meet his — then away — then back again — he decides it’s…cute, when you do it.

That smile blooms across your face once more, now trained firmly on him.

“Maybe I’d like to.”

A pit forms in Travis’s stomach. Blood drains from his face. He sobers in an instant. Your words echo through his thoughts, sharpening with mounting anxiety. What exactly were you trying to say? You were interested in hunting?

The smile still lingers on you, and what felt like amusement moments ago has suddenly warped into something harsh and mocking. Did you know what they were hunting? Were you probing him for information? 

“What makes my time any of your business?” He snaps, ignoring a pang of guilt at such a confrontation. Perhaps he was being too paranoid. Perhaps you were none the wiser. Just curious. Less sense than caution. He made an effort to ease up at the sight of your brow furrowing. “I think it’s wiser that you get in your car and go drive home.”

You’re pulling the door open. Not quite able to slip into the drivers seat when Travis’s palm presses into the chassis, using whatever presence he could just to make sure you were listening. “Maybe another night, then.”

Another night?

Anxiety turns to panic.

“Don’t let me catch you out here after dark." He insists, voice hardening. "You’ve got no idea what you’re doing.”

“I meant…—“

“I don’t care what you meant. I’m telling you to drop whatever it is you’re hoping to get out of this. No ‘another night’.” Travis grinds out. “Go home. Do I make myself clear?”

The ensuing pause is dreadful.

“Yeah.” Eventually cuts from between your teeth. Your eyes flash disdain at his order. “Sorry. Won’t happen again.” 

Travis notices far too late how close you’ve become until you slip out of his shadow. Maple scent disappears with your presence as you get into your car, avoiding his gaze now. His hand still rests against the chassis, preventing you from leaving. He leans down. 

He needs to be certain you’re hearing him. He needs to know you’ll be alive in the morning. 

It’d be overstepping to offer his number. Let you know you can call on him for help outside work hours. He'd be there in a heartbeat if you asked, if not for the implications.

“I’m flagging your licence plate.” Is all he can offer in lieu of a assurance. “I see your car anywhere between here and my family’s home? May god help you.”

The mortification is clear enough to have him content. You’re not pleased to say the least, but his point is well and truly across. It's fine; it's better this way. There's safety in distance, and he can always compensate with a more generous tip tomorrow.

Travis pushes the door closed the rest of the way, molars grinding at the empty smile that broadens on you. 

He’s upset you. He knows it, but he can’t be faulted for steering you clear of the hunt. For keeping his family safe.

Maybe another night, then. That phrase sticks out to him while you start the car and back out of your space. He’d have to keep a closer watch on you if you planned on challenging his warning more than once. Another night, then. You'd never shown an interest in hunting. Why would you do such a thing, if not out of nosiness? Malicious curiosity? Spite, even. It made less sense the more he replayed it. What was that if not an invitation to–

...

An invitation.

Oh. Oh, no.

Travis goes rigid, watching your car pull out of the lot. Hands frozen on his hips. Gawking.

Had he not been on display to the entirety of the diner, he might’ve thrown something. Started kicking the tyres of his patrol car. 

You were making a fucking pass at him. 

Shit. Shit! 

You’d shown an interest in him. In him. In being with him. Off-duty, outside work hours. At night. Recreationally. And he’d just torn you a new one for it. 

Fucking piece of shit. Fucking loser. Over and over while he trudges back to his own vehicle, the conversation flickers through his thoughts. How many more ins had you given him prior to today? How many fucking chances?

The sun's half way past the horizon. He doesn't have time to reflect. He has to table this for now. As much as the realisation claws at his insides, he has to focus on the hunt.

Maybe if he kills that kid tonight, he can look forward to making amends.

That's the final reflection he allows himself before shoving the though to the back of his psyche, where it can't bother him.

_____________________________

It does bother him, as it turns out. 

It haunts him through the night while he searches for Silas in the undergrowth. The White Wolf hasn't made an appearance tonight and the trail is cold, and while his failure is spelled out by undisturbed frogs and crickets chirping late into the night, the Sheriff is almost relieved. The incident outside the diner and the replaying memory of it deafens him to the ambience. If he's being stalked by the werewolf, he's far too distracted to know it.

Finally, the sun rises, and Travis is once again out of time. Another month to add to the record of the family curse. Another month of Ma's ire and Pa's hard-won, past-his-prime lectures. Chris and the kids didn't deserve this. Especially the kids. 

He has to get back to the station in a few hours. Pretend he hasn’t been wandering the woods all fucking night. He has to clean off. Decompress. Take just a little time to reflect on what he’d said to you — on how the fuck he could hope to set the record straight when the mere knowledge that he’d held your interest was trying his stomach in knots. 

If he couldn’t work up the spine to speak to you before, he's got no hope in hell of approaching you now. 

The moment he’s back in his flat, Travis bee-lines for the bathroom, ignoring hunger and exhaustion and the temptation to retrieve the 6-pack from the fridge along the way. The blood he’s worn to cover his scent on the hunt isn’t so obvious against the black of his uniform, but it acts almost like a sponge, soaking fresh stains over his skin, incriminating him in the light. 

He doesn’t bother to let the water run hot before he steps into the shower fully clothed, barring his shoes. The half-minute of icy spray does well to remove whatever rusted pigment his clothes might gain once dry. Momentarily, the chill of the water is enough of a shock to his system that he stops mulling over what happened in the parking lot. 

It doesn’t last. The self-loathing seeps back in right while the water pooling around the drain runs copper and crimson. Another night of fuck ups. Another month of cursed loved ones and the overtime it took to keep them safe. Some small part of him protests; maybe they’re asking too much of him — maybe it isn’t fair that it all falls on his shoulders. With Bobby’s disabilities and his parents’ ages, though, who else can keep everyone safe?

He’s ashamed of himself for such a sentiment. And yet —

He feels just as cursed.

To be free of the favours and the corruption and the secrecy — the fucking paranoia that settles over every conversation that someone might know, or find out. He fucking wishes he could spend a moment in that diner with a clear enough head, just enough to be capable of holding a conversation with you.

Maybe he's shifting the blame too much. This has been going on so long that he can't be sure if he was terrified of you before Silas came to the county. It's possible that even if the Harum Scarum hadn't rolled into town, and there'd been no fire, and no witches, and no werewolves — he'd still be sitting in that little booth.

The water begins to warm, and Travis reluctantly disrobes in the cubicle, unbuttoning and peeling off his drenched uniform. Shame hits from a new angle once his trousers are discarded. He’s half hard in his periphery. A frequent state he’s left in while you’re on his mind. While he’s at his booth, thanking his lucky stars to be covered by the table while you wipe down tables, bent at the hip, reaching for too high glasses, body stretching, waist cinched by an apron perpetually dusted with coffee grounds and sugar. While he’s seated at his desk in a silent police department, combing social media for your image despite your unanswered friend request and the access that just fucking accepting would give him and fuck—

He blew you off. 

One fucking window of opportunity left wide open to reciprocate a now obvious flirtation, and he’d spent it trying to intimidate you instead. 

God, he's repulsed by himself. Even in the wake of the hurt and the gore, he's still suffering an erection. Even when his hands have scrubbed the mask of blood off his face and the smell of rotting flesh is all but washed away, he's still left in disgust.

What if he’d thrown caution to the wind and allowed you to come along tonight? It was quiet. You'd have survived. He'd have had you trudging through the brush, armed to the teeth. Would you still have been interested after that? Would you have pitied him, or laughed at him for his monthly routine of dousing himself in werewolf’s blood, and failing to track a freak show attraction who couldn’t even speak?

On the other hand, what if he’d taken this one night off? Had the common sense to tell you 'tomorrow night, I’m available' ? 

Why were you drawn to him in the first place? Did you feel sorry for him in that empty station, in his empty patrol car, in his empty flat? Was it the uniform you liked? Or had his hope that your mutual little routine of small talk affect you as well?

Maybe, somehow, you took him at face value and liked what you saw. 

Travis stiffens at the thought. A twitch from below beckons his attention once more. He presses a forearm against the cubicle wall, shifting his weight, contemplating. 

Then, he gives in. Takes himself gingerly in-hand and basks in the relief of touch, thoughts clearing, envisioning the potential your interest might have had before he ruined it. 

Do you find him attractive? Do you steal your own furtive glances when he isn't taking his own, ignoring the thinning hairline and the way his ears stuck out — or do you like that, too? 

Heat licks up through his spine with an experimental pump. Body reacting emphatically to what he's testing. 

Travis slackens with a sigh as the tension in his shoulders lessens. Nerve's spark elsewhere now, begging to keep his attention. His forehead comes to rest against the tile beside his wrist, and swallowing back a hesitation, he builds into a rhythm. 

Did you want him to fuck you? Did you think about that at all before today? He ventures to hope you’re kind enough not to mind the only experience he has to show for himself is a handful of one night stands dotted few and far between. You’d be patient, and he’d make it up to you. He’s nothing if not dedicated. He’s all too happy to learn. 

A scene he's imagined before takes shape on the backs of his eyelids. If you’d let him, he’d take you in your workplace. Late hours of a weeknight. Unlikely that anyone should enter, but always a risk that you could be caught. He’d have you against the counter, apron bunched around your waist. Right now, though, he can’t decide which image he prefers. Bending you over the counter-top or having you spread on your back atop one of the tables. Would you let him, anymore, after how he treated you? 

Maybe some fucked-up, fictional version of you might find retribution in sex. Shit, he likes the idea of that. Foregoing verbal apology in favour of physical satisfaction. Something electric buzzes through his nerves, core tightening with a particular throb that simultaneously warns and sings. He's already close, and slowing strokes do little to lessen his momentum.. He has to make the best of the time he has. 

Travis changes the scene. His patrol car. Behind the wheel. Sitting back, helpless beneath you while you rock in his lap. Taking what you need from him. Paying no mind if he’s already finished— overstimulated, trembling, slacks a stained mess from how much of him has spilled out of you. It’s only fair, after how he behaved. He transplants the image into as many scenarios as imagination will allow: his office, his couch, his bed. Arms draped around your rib cage, cheek pressed to your sternum. Feeling you make yourself come around him, over and over, flushed from exertion, not letting up until the score is settled and forgiveness is earned. 

When you’re finally done taking what you’re owed, you give way to sweetness again. Fingers scratching gently through gelled back hair. Lips ghosting over his forehead. Murmuring praises. Telling him how well he did. 

It's the thought of being held by you that brings him undone. 

The surge comes too soon, catching him off guard, choking the air in his lungs. He’s emptying into his fist already, bliss and humiliation dragging him through an orgasm that lasts nearly as long as his performance. Whatever hasn’t been spent on the tile wall coats his knuckles in residual little twitches.

The image of you evaporates, and a nearly inaudible curse slips through Travis's teeth. 

He doesn't want to leave the cubicle. What he wants is to savour the waning warmth. Enjoy what he can of the afterglow before clarity and guilt creep back into his mind.

Even if you did want him, the truth would change that. 

He’d blown you off, but at least you weren’t privy to what he’d done. What he was doing. So long as he kept you at bay, the height of your disappointment would only stem from his refusal.

Fuck. He couldn’t convince himself of that. 

At some point, he’d have to decide whether or not he’d be content to remain in the stasis of that booth, in bitter silence, or clear the air. Admit wrongdoing and hope that you’d find his incompetence charming, so long as he hadn’t completely dashed his chances.

The prospect alone terrifies him.

He didn’t want to think about it anymore. He’s so fucking tired.

At least there’s a 10 hour stretch of shift work between himself and that confrontation. 

At least there’s still a few minutes of hot water left. 

...

He can work with that.

He's got another round left in him. 

[cantquitu]

Why ‘Don’t Worry Darling’ chose Palm Springs as the setting for its hedonistic mystery world

BY GLENN WHIPP, ENTERTAINMENT COLUMNIST, AUG. 29, 2022 9 AM PT

Olivia Wilde remembers driving to Palm Springs for the first time 20 years ago, taking in the Midcentury Modern architecture, the palm trees, the lush golf courses and the flowing fountains, a verdant city plopped in the middle of a desert. Every time the native New Yorker looked out the window, the same thought ran through her head: “If we settled Mars, this is what it would look like.”

“It felt like the ultimate expression of man’s dominance and power,” Wilde says over the phone, taking a walk around New York. “It’s so beautiful, but it’s also a really strange place. If not for all the creature comforts that man has created, you would die very quickly out here. And it’s the desert, so it’s spooky. I recall thinking that someday we have to make a horror movie out there.”

That day has arrived with “Don’t Worry Darling,” opening in theaters Sept. 23 after world premiering next week at the Venice Film Festival, a psychological thriller about a couple (Florence Pugh and Harry Styles) living in a utopian desert community called the Victory Project. It’s a place where men leave in the mornings in their vintage Corvettes and Pontiacs for mysterious jobs while the women stay home, make the beds, scrub the bathtubs and cook up a pot roast for dinner. The ethos, in the words of the community’s leader, Frank (Chris Pine), is all about mining “pure, unbridled potential.” That and hedonism. The women must keep the liquor cabinets fully stocked too.

As the song goes, “It’s the good life” — if you’re one of the men nuzzling your submissive wife over a bacon and eggs breakfast. Otherwise, to use another line from the same Sinatra song, “You hide all the sadness you feel.” The tension between the colony’s seductive glamour and the level of control it imposes on the women who live there (imagine the most draconian HOA and you get the idea) gradually becomes exposed as Pugh’s character begins to question her surroundings over the course of the film’s two-hour running time.

There was a moment when “Don’t Worry Darling” might not have happened in Palm Springs. Wilde, writer Katie Silberman and production designer Katie Byron, the trio who collaborated on Wilde’s directorial debut, the acclaimed 2019 teen comedy “Booksmart,” had embarked on an early road trip to the desert to start scouting locations. It was July 2020, hotter than hell and the beginning of the pandemic, which made the Victory Project’s life of revolving dinner parties feel like a complete fantasy. Taking in all the butterfly rooflines of communities like Canyon View Estates, they were certain they had found the movie’s setting.

But because of COVID, Wilde says, “very reasonable powers that be” suggested moving the production to New Zealand to save money. Wilde understood the logic but resisted, believing that, on a subconscious level, Palm Springs connected to what she calls the “patriarchal masculinity” that was essential to the story she was telling.

“For me, New Zealand is this ecological gem that’s evidence of nature’s power,” Wilde says, “and feels connected to Mother Nature and femininity. I think if I made a sequel about the matriarchy, New Zealand would be a reasonable place to go because it’s a place where you go to be humbled by nature. That’s the opposite of what the character Frank wants. He wants people to feel that nature is humbled in their presence, that man has molded nature to his will.”

The location for Frank’s home was vitally important, and Wilde lucked out in securing the Kaufmann Desert House, a marvel of Modernism, a home made from glass, steel and Utah stone, epitomizing the indoor-outdoor Southern California lifestyle aesthetic. The home, built in 1946 to the designs of Richard Neutra, has been immortalized in photographs, including Slim Aarons’ “Poolside Gossip,” a shot that, coincidentally, Wilde had pinned to her wall while she was developing “Don’t Worry Darling.”

“To have that image on the wall and then be able to crawl inside it felt like that scene in ‘Mary Poppins’ when they jump into the chalk drawings on the sidewalk,” Wilde says.

The movie makes use of a couple of other Palm Springs landmarks, the City Hall and the Visitors Center, both designed by renowned architect Albert Frey. But for another key location, the building that stands in as the Victory Project’s mysterious headquarters (employees only!), the film’s location manager, Chris Baugh, ventured a couple of hours north to the Mojave Desert community of Newberry Springs. There, atop a 150-foot cinder cone, sits a building known as the Volcano House, a saucer-like structure that appears to have materialized from another planet or dimension.

“We got shivers down our spines when we first saw it,” Byron says. Adds cinematographer Matthew Libatique: “It just feels like it melts into the landscape. It’s a trek to get out there, but when everyone saw it, they knew: This is it. This is what the Victory Project’s headquarters would look like.”

The triumph associated with the community’s name appears to be confined, as the film’s trailer hints, to a small slice of the population. And yet, Wilde says, it’s easy to be seduced by iconography of the midcentury, Rat Pack era, which is why she hoped to keep “Don’t Worry Darling” from being didactic in its depiction of its patriarchal world.

“There’s a recklessness to the debauchery that feels almost aspirational to us today,” Wilde says, “Because it feels like a world without consequence. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find it really compelling and alluring. I didn’t want to make a preachy feminist parable that depicts men as villains. I think the film is about our collective complicity in this futuristic infrastructure that objectifies women.

“And what I found so interesting was the complicity in myself,” she continues. “That feeling of, ‘Oh, I’m all about new-wave feminism and smash the patriarchy.’ But here I am loving this era — and you can use the Rat Pack as an example of it — that was really horrendous for women. That tension between knowing something’s wrong but still being very seduced by it is where the movie sits. I want the audience to be tugged back and forth between those emotions.”

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

okay here’s my dwd review, buckle up 🫡

beginning to middle was pretty slow, middle to end was good!

the fluffy scenes between Alice and Jack were done really well, the chemistry between Harry and Flo felt so natural

HARRY LOOKED SO HANDSOME 😩 ON HIS PRETTY BOY SHIT FR!! The camera loves him, it makes me sick

Chris Pine played an excellent villain, he really embodies that egotistical manipulative psycho role perfectly

I felt like the plotline of Alice starting to realize something was wrong happened way too abruptly and inorganically. Like she just randomly started having flashbacks and doubts for no reason. I know Margaret kinda played a part in it, but Alice’s initial doubts didn’t really have much to do with her. I know the song was also a part of it, but its implied that she’s been harmlessly thinking about the tune for a while, and the idea that it just spontaneously triggers her despite the fact that she had it in her head for a long time is kinda unrealistic to me 🤷‍♀️ When things happen in a series of events/a domino effect, it really builds an exciting plot, and that’s what was missing from the beginning. I remember that in the original script, Alice finds a key while she’s doing Jack’s laundry, and her curiosity about its purpose is was leads her to find the portal and causes everything to unfold. Personally, I feel like they should have kept that, or at least kept the theme of it and have something like that set everything off.

Speaking of the tune, Harry did a really good job with it!! It was the perfect amount of creepy and it fit the entire film to a T

The entire dancing scene just seemed very unnecessary to me tbh! I heard a take about how it’s supposed to be a metaphor for how Frank puppeteers Jack and the entire community bc he’s literally seen as a god by them, which makes sense ofc, but the only reason I understand that analogy is because it was brought to my attention. Someone who is watching the movie and trying to draw their own conclusions from it probably wouldn’t have realized that’s what it was about (I’m using my sister as an example: she went with me and had absolutely no clue what the dancing was about and thought it was stupid 💀)

The whole thing with the plane crash was so ??? it’s one of those things that just felt like it was scribbled into the plot for the sake of haphazardly connecting some dots

The tension/face-off between Alice and Frank was 🤌 I loved the way he challenged her and she took it in stride and put up a good fight on her end. And Gemma’s entire ruthless monologue was done so well on her part

Flo’s acting is insane!! Like her talent never fails to leave me speechless, the way she’s so good with microexpressions and acting with her eyes…I adore her. The character shift she underwent when she had her epiphany and finally remembered her real life?? How she went from a proper housewife to cursing and yelling and fighting back?? 🫡

The whole scene after the dinner where Alice and Jack are discussing running away and then she gets taken by the Victory people was done really well!! Again, Flo’s acting in the car scene was so raw and realistic, 10/10. And Harry’s acting in this scene also really impressed me, I feel like he kept up with Flo nicely, which I honestly didn’t expect at all LMAO 💀 he did well with his expressions, his body language, and his dialogue, and I was like wow okay he has good potential

As for his acting across the entire film, I think he did good! He was going up against some legendary, experienced people (Flo, Chris, Gemma), so I expected it to be a very starch contrast in terms of talent to the point where he’d likely get overshadowed/stick out, but he managed to hold his own!! I remember when the Eternals scene came out, I was one of the people who felt that it looked very fake; he didn’t seem like an actual character, he just seemed like Harry in a superhero suit reciting some lines 💀 but in this movie, I think he actually embodied his role, and it felt like he was the character, and that he was playing who he was meant to play. Which is great, cause I was terrified that he’d flop and embarrass us 😭 a summary: he did good, still needs some work (which is expected), but he did his job and it was a nice acting debut on his part

I was left wanting some more depth to the characters. I wanted to know more about Jack’s background/identity in their real life, about Frank and what led him to create Victory, and how Jack discovered Victory and what he had to do in order to put Alice in it. She was a surgeon in a hospital and had tons of people depending on her, so how did he just manage to basically rip her from her career and her life without anyone coming to look for her?? What about her family, who would definitely try to come find her if they hadn’t heard from her in a while?? And his family?? Stuff like that. And also, I wanted to know much more about Jack and Alice’s marriage before the simulation (how they met, how their relationship developed, when they got married, how and when things started going wrong after he lost his job, why he was such a useless bum 💀 etc etc etc).

Ending was good, you could see Jack had some major screws lose by that point and Harry portrayed that well!! The chase scene was cool, but when she stopped and literally just stood there thinking about him I was like girl that man is DEAD!!!! GO GO GO!!!! and then she woke up and it’s implied she survives and gets to go back to her life 🫡 good for her

This movie being marketed as an ode to female pleasure completely missed the mark. The only “pleasurable” thing was the surface-level sex, which honestly felt unnecessary to me, if I’m being honest. The scenes just felt thrown in there, which makes me believe that the only reason they exist in the first place is merely to use them as a way to draw people in since it’s Harry having sex 🤷‍♀️ one would have been more than enough, and it’s the only one that made any type of sense to me: the one where Frank is watching them. Gross and fucked up, I KNOW, but it’s the one that actually aligns with themes in the film. Again, Frank is seen as this overlord figure in the community, and him looming over that entire exchange when Jack and Alice thought they had privacy kinda reminds me of that saying that goes, “God sees all.”, which is later supported further by how Frank informs Alice that he knows about her attempt to get Bunny on her side, implying that he’s “always watching.” That was my take on it, anyways, so I can see how that one was useful to the plot. The other scene was just there SJDNSNDNSN

That’s all I have to say, I think!! All in all, I give it a 7/10. I was entertained, but I was left wanting more from it, especially with how long it took for this movie to finally come out

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Okay so I mentioned in my costume meta about Chris in water cycle tee but that my look at it got a bit long. well this is the separate post for it. - I love this tee - yes I did some more hunting and found the tee - not on sale anymore, but I managed to find the full picture of the graphic which is the most important thing. 

We don’t see the full image during the scene, but wardrobe wouldn’t know that, so it’s always fair to assume that there is meaning in the whole image. All of the print t-shirts Chris wears are significant - they foreshadow so much. We’ve already seen him in tees foreshadowing, for example both his and Eddie break downs were signalled through his slippery slope shirt (the idea of something snowballing and one thing leading to another i.e Chris’s breakdown contributing to Eddies own) and the shirt with the little embroidered surfers he wore at Bucks party just before the tsunami in 3x01 foreshadowed them riding out a wave, not to mention all of the dinosaur and space themed tees and pyjamas. 

This one is no exception - in fact there is a fair amount on this tee that is making me think! There is the obvious - the circular nature of the water cycle and the idea of things coming full circle. But there is also the idea that you can only have sun if you are prepared to accept the clouds and the rain that are the suns by products. This tee also shows snow - rain in a different form - which once its fallen is often considered transformative and beautiful. Snow can also be seen as cold and depressing (especially if it is where you are not used to getting it) but the t-shirt also suggests that the sun melts that snow and returns it to water - becoming a river and flowing into the sea. 

This is yet another example of water being hinted at in season 5, and the idea that water returns to the sea when we’ve had Buck being reminded of the tsunami as his ‘greatest hit’ at the beginning of the season. not to mention that there is a shark hanging out in the ocean on the tee after we’ve had a shark rescue featuring prominently in the episode before.

The little pine trees are very reminiscent of the snow covered one Chris wore when he smashed the gingerbread house in 5x10(which was foreshadowing the accident that led Eddie to decide to leave the 118) as is the little house we see and the fact that the arrow is pointing directly at it.

Then there is a waterfall. There is a couple of things about waterfalls that has me thinking. Firstly its the play on words - it doesn’t say waterfall - it says waterfalls - like water falls from the sky as rain etc. then there is the fact that waterfalls are a vital part of a healthy water system  - they purify and oxygenate water in the most efficient way - creating nutrients and supporting a healthy ecosystem. there is also the human health benefits of waterfalls - its been scientifically proven that waterfalls are calming - they help to release negative ions in the body - reducing stress. they have long been a symbol of letting go but also play into the idea of being adaptable and if we think about dream meanings then the waterfall represents the ability to shift identity, changing and growing - usually stemming from an emotional experience or seismic change in ones circumstances (sums up Eddie pretty well doesn’t it!). 

Basically the graphic on this tee is connecting several of the threads that we’ve seen playing out over season 5 connected to Eddie and his story arc!

The other thing that waterfall made me think of - the parallel with 1x01 (thanks @copyninjakura for helping with the episode number when I couldn’t remember) So this actually got away from me a bit and turned into something beyond my initial plan to point out a fun little potential parallels and well, I’ve gone full clown here, but I don’t care and I had fun and I do think its a bit relevant!!!

Athena; All right. No heroics. Don’t go chasing waterfalls.

Buck; I don’t know what that means

Athena; Nobody thought you would.

There are a couple of things about this scene and those 3 lines that has made me convinced it has been chosen by the writers room to come back into play this season (as we seem to be paralleling S3 and 1 hard iso far!) and have therefore gained new meanings. This whole scene is the moment that Athena begins to understand and appreciate Buck, its the moment when he gains her respect so its already important in the grand scheme of things. ‘no heroics’ - hello to the belief that Athena has at that moment that Buck has a very healthy hero complex and that its reckless. And when we have an episode titled hero complex in season 5 - the season when we’ve already had a call back to S1 Buck and his struggle with losing someone on the job - that you can’t save them all (it s a very hero like mentality; to think that you can save everyone!) with I am very 

Sure at the time the line ‘don’t go chasing waterfalls’ was a fun reference to pop culture that Buck would be too young to understand, but like ‘No heroics’ it also plays into who Athena this Buck is at that point in time - that he willingly goes chasing waterfalls - which is reckless and can get you killed (think of people taking risks, seeking adrenaline by riding waterfalls!) and again plays into the hero complex idea.

The thing is though - Buck is the one that finds the solution - he literally makes a waterfall to solve the problem and stop the bad guy from getting away. If you look at that scene as a whole - it actually has a fair few parallels with what we’ve been seeing in s5. Theres dispatch (Abby) being on the phone - preventing the situation from getting worse by providing information to Petey so he can ‘escape’ - only its a trap - parallels rather nicely with 5x11 and the speed rescue - Eddie being on the phone providing information that helps with the rescue (because it would’ve blown up before everyone was safe if he hadn’t) 

There’s the family of three moving into a new house - starting a new chapter of their life (especially as its implied they moved from out of the area), then when the trouble starts the kid leaves the relative safety of her bedroom. She’s scared and her parents not being present parallel with Christopher calling Buck for help when he’s scared and Eddie isn’t ‘present’ not to mention the locked doors - girl is locked in a closet and can’t get out while Chris is locked out of the room and can’t get in and the fact that both kids are on their phone getting help!!

And finally we have the role Buck plays in the rescue - he is in civies, but he’s in the fire truck (4x13 parallel), he is the one who spots the bike that helps them locate the right house, he knows there is something going on inside, but he just stays outside and observes - relaying information and letting the cogs in his brain turn. When he is then faced with needing to step in and help Buck grabs Emma (the mom) before she can get into the house and into the path of danger, but he also comes up with the solution - he doesn’t chase the waterfall - he makes the waterfall. Knocking Petey off his bike and stopping his getaway in its tracks (don’t even get me started on the Buck and Athena and bikes and stopping parallels that would need to be a whole other post!!). 

Season 5 Buck had spotted the problems Eddie was going through (the bike) and we see him observing Eddie and making comments to push him a little but not actively getting involved because he knew it wasn’t his place at that time (observing and collecting information) then he does chose to step in and offer advice - (the Ana of it all) but continues watching - He sees where Eddie is at - sees the warning signs of breakdown coming (you don’t have to pretend with me Eddie) but doesn’t have a solution at that moment (Petey making his initial get away on the bike before turning around because the roads s blocked) but as soon as the breakdown happens and he can step in (petey firing at Athena) he is there to support and he figures it out (uses the water canon) -  getting Eddie and Chris what they need - he makes them the waterfall that will enable them to re oxygenate and create a healthy thriving eco system (that he is an integral part of)

Then finally there is the tie into 5x14 and Buck misunderstanding the assignment paralleling with him not understanding the meaning of ‘don’t go chasing waterfalls’. He took that line and used it to his advantage - he connected the dots and made the waterfall instead of chasing it. just as he probably didn’t misunderstand the assignment, he connected some dots and used the assignment to his advantage - he made Eddie (and probably Christopher) smile - those moments of light heartedness are everything when you’re as low as Eddie - they can give you the little lift you need to keep on climbing the mountain - Buck understood the assignment perfectly!

[unwrittenlibrary]

Tee’s Summer Reads 🖤

hi all! as summer comes to a close and classes start back up again, i wanted to come on here and share some pieces i read over break that i just loved.

as always, heed to any and all warnings each creator has put in place. eighteen plus spaces deserve respect and you are urged to show them it.

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Bucky Barnes

i wished one the moon for you by @sunmoonandbucky • “After losing Bucky, you were devastated. So when Howard Stark asks for volunteers for an experiment, you're the first in line.” -> 40s buck & present bucky? love that lasts through time? love it

the shot heard round the tower & unwarranted weakness by @pellucid-constellations • “you just want to know if bucky has feelings for you. bucky just wants you to be okay.” -> these two pieces can be read separately, but i highly suggest reading them both because bucky is written so well and they made me feel warm all over. 

see the world the way you do by @vanderlustwords • “you start to see color when you meet your soulmate. bucky thinks that soulmates are a one of a kind thing.” -> there are So many lines in this that just... sit with you. i felt so much reading this. that tight feeling in your chest, pure happiness, anger... i just absolutely loved this. 

a little old fashioned by @gogolucky13 • “bucky is a bit subtle in telling you he likes you.”-> behold...sweet, shy comfort fic bucky. i go back and read this when i’m sad. 

he’s a good friend by @markandlexies • “reader is tired of watching bucky go on dates with leah and flirt with sarah.” -> give me all the oblivious, pining friends to lovers. just incredible writing and a truly lovely piece. 

tap by @houseravenclaws •  “bucky never talked much, he fell in love anyway.” -> you KNOW i already love sarah’s writing, it was on my last list. HERE’S MORE! this fic tore me apart in the best way and i still think about it all the time. it has become a go to. 

all the good things by @/houseravenclaws • “bucky’s been a little more than happy recently. sam thinks it has something to do with the pretty girl on the team.” -> need i say more? i needn’t say more. 

i love you, you idiot by @chrisevansjellybeans • “we’re best friends but won’t say we’re in love trope.” -> this fic made my heart sore. i love when writers have the ability to show love through the smallest of details and this fic did that so well. 

the things you’ve done by @divine-mistake • “what if the world ended tomorrow and all he did was spend his last day with you thinking about how you never hold his metal hand and you never walk on his left side and you constantly reach for his right arm?” -> OHHHHHHHHH MAN oh man this fic left me in shambles. absolute shambles and gave me a big, bright smile. insecure!bucky just does something to me. bucky is written perfectly in this. 

cornerstone by @agentofbarnes • this is a piece of zee’s (incredible) barnes’ au where bucky and reader (babydoll) are married with kids. -> i love the entire barnes’ au, but this piece honestly meant so much to me??? seeing bucky as an incredibly loving and open father just makes me so happy. 

leather jacket full of cats by @bucksfucks • “bucky brings home kittens.” -> nora doesn’t write fluff, but when she does it comes out absolutely incredible???? bucky and kittens?? PLEASE this made so happy (hi keep an eye out for more of nora’s work in the nsfw section) 

bulova by @babycap • “in the five years between the two snaps that changed it all, life had moved on, as life is want to do. In the aftermath of that final battle, you discover that time waited for no one (least of all you), and those you loved marched forward into it without you. Sam suggests you volunteer at the local retirement community to keep you busy, keep your mind from lingering on what—and who—you lost. In giving back, you find that time can be just as generous as it is cruel.” -> this is a babycap (dev my love) fan account. i have never read such beautiful words & i am always so stunned by the amazing works that dev puts out. i get so excited to read them. 

sunset by @belladonnabarnes • “bucky meets a pretty girl and her little sister at the zoo.” -> how did you know it was my dream to meet bucky at the zoo jaye?????? ahhhhh i loved this fic so much, it was so incredibly sweet i had the dopiest smile on my face when reading it. 

crawl home to her by @wkemeup • “stranded without coms, alone, and bleeding out in the middle of a russian snow storm, bucky is content to let nature take its course. only you won’t seem to let him go.” -> this fic is a masterpiece. a genuine piece of art. i was on the edge of my seat reading it, hoping i could faster than possible just to find out if bucky made it.

suburbia by @/wkemeup • “posing as husband and wife, you and bucky infiltrate a quaint suburban neighborhood in search of a hydra hacker. perhaps if you weren’t so in love with him and he hadn’t broken your heart, the act of pretending wouldn’t hurt so much.” -> yeah this one HURT. in the best way, an absolute favorite. so so so good.

that was premonition, i think by @divine-mistake • “sometimes you wish you had never fallen in love with bucky. screw that ‘it’s better to have loved and lost’ bullshit. you wish you had never fallen in love with bucky barnes.” -> just so so good. i was speechless after reading.

Others

Sam Wilson

the summertime and butterflies all belong to your creation by @golden-bucky • “you’ve never been one for baseball, but sam wilson is enough to change your mind.” -> ok. listen. i HAVE always loved baseball and this fic made me dream of mr. sam wilson in a lil uniform and me cheering him on. it was so sweet and i just loved it. a dream come true.

scary love by @bvckysmoon • “the first ‘i love yous’ are always scary.” -> being in love with sam wilson? yes please! this fic is so tooth achingly sweet, i adore it.

that way by @belouva • “you don’t know what label to fall under anymore. were you his roommate, friend or his lover?” -> i love roommate! sam… the first two parts of this series are so good.

Steve Rogers

you don’t know by @/divine-mistake • “until her gaze falls on you and her lovesick puppy dog eyes morph into saucers, leaving her frozen in pure shock. that visage quickly melts away to reveal a smug smile, aimed right at you, and you know exactly what she’s thinking at this moment.” -> steve & plus-size reader! i actually teared up, this fic hit really close to home and is beautifully written.

Spencer Reid

the one where everyone finds out by @reidscanehand • “Spencer Reid is in love with Y/N, and she’s in love with him...only they don’t know it yet...and they might be are definitely going to be the very last to know. And since Spencer and Y/N happen to be surrounded by the best profilers in the country, the rest of the team is, of course, the first to piece together the romance. Little by little, bit by bit, the team solves the case of Spencer and Y/N.” -> i constantly go back and reread this fic… it means so much to me!

work wife by @differentkettleoffishalltogether • “Spencer can’t help but feel a little jealous when it seems like his best friend is interested in someone else.” -> best friend spencer & love confessions? yeah that’s what i like.

Aaron Hotchner

dream a little dream by @ssahotchswife • “Following an injury, the reader dreams about time spent with Aaron Hotchner and his son. She relives heartbreak about Aaron's relationship with Beth and the love she has for Jack. Aaron must come to terms with his feelings for the reader when she wakes.” -> aaron hotchner is my comfort man and this fic makes my chest ache

NSFW

just friends by @/bucksfucks • “you and chris are just friends, right?” -> chris evans please i’m free on saturday

forbidden fruit by @/bucksfucks • “you attempt to set your ex’s things on fire. bucky has a better idea.” -> dadsbestfriend!bucky has my heart and it’s literally because of nora’s writing

appointments by @buckycuddlebuddy • “bucky barnes, finally being able to live freely in 21st century, accidentally gets a fuck buddy and starts to rediscover himself. the only weird thing about this situation is that you have to make an appointment to get railed by him.” -> ooooooooof i love this lil series so much

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these are all of my summer reads!!! i’ll definitely post another one after fall semester, this will most likely be a seasonal thing.