#literally he takes off that hood and he looks like hes named phillip

[zero-insignificance]

DND Recap: The End?

Cast includes: Rose the DM, Bob (yours truly), Truk, Patrick and Zara

We open the session fresh off killing Starscourge Radahn the second time. He has turned into a puddle of a lot of ectoplasm. Bob harvests 200 gallons of ectoplasm.

We have a new item we can use in combat.

Ectoplasm Jello Shots. Makes you intangible for 1 round of combat and you can take 2 every long rest.

The party is futzing around in the arena while Rose gets food from 711. Truk gets to play with wielding 3 Radahn's great swords. He gets a cease-and-desist letter from a Shiba Inu after making a reference to an out of game character. The swords vanish cuz that would be SO overpowered. Zara is up to God knows what. Patrick is investigating. Bob sets out a disk, presses a button and runs and out pops a 6-person tent.

Phillip pops out of nowhere (aka Rose has their 711 snacks and is back home) and states that we're going to have to do more than just beat Starscourge Radahn to beat him and get Bragar back.

Phillip: Imaginary technique Bob: Just like your bedroom technique, which didn’t exist. Phillip: *explodes* (this is not canon)

Bob the Builder is canonically in Hell

The floor gives out from underneath everyone and everyone starts falling except for Bob cuz he got wings and he collapses his tent, grabbing it before letting himself drop. "weeeeeeeeeeeee-"

We land in a ball pit and Bob is just like "Why am I the only one with wings?" as he flutters over the party.

And Truk finds a yellow rabbit plushie and picks it up and then Alfie pops up out of the ball pit "Sorry that's mine-" and he grabs the rabbit before replacing it with fucking Plush Trap "See ya!" and he dips.

Bob: PUT IT DOWN- Truk: Should I put it down? Everyone: PUT. IT. DOWN.

Truk drops Plush Trap and the moment it hits the ground the lights flicker, and it's gone. Bob knows that the little fucker is the ball pit and is like "Alright let's get everyone out of the ball pit. If something grabs your leg, punt it."

We look through the room and find 4 coffins. Each of them has each person's true name on it.

Zara immediately scratches her's out. Truk admires the quality of the coffins. Bob blushes at his cuz it says D'Avariss Gilbert Redfeather and then he covers the name with yellow duct tape before chiseling that out. And Patrick is sad because the 4th coffin says "Ender Danak Zordak" which foreshadows the next session because Patrick does not know who he is. Bob took his memories for reasons to be revealed.

Patrick puts a hand in the coffins and he must make a constitution saving throw. He succeeds with flying colors and he gets this urge to lay down in the coffin but he fights it off. The coffins are all unus annus themed for each character. So, Bob's is purple and sparkly and plant themed. Truk's is pink. Zara's is probably solid black with chaotic flames on it. And Patrick's is somehow changing colors.

Bob and Zara like to chat cuz mlm and wlw solidarity and Zara is surprised that Bob's is purple. Bob: My old patron made me say that my favorite color was green cuz it pissed me off, but Alfie gives me more free will and I am proud to say that my favorite color is purple. Green is my least favorite color. Zara: Sounds like an asshole.

There’s a skeleton with celebrity signatures everywhere. It asks for Truk autograph. Truk signs his name right next to one that says "Glitta Fah Faes" and the skelly boi gives Bob a chipper greeting.

At some point Zara pulls her hood over her head suspiciously and everyone is like "what's wrong?" Zara tried to lie to everyone Everyone: Bullshit. Truk: Zara. Bob is allergic to bullshit. Literally. Bob: *hives* ow. Truk: Here you go *heals* Bob: I appreciate you.

We've passed the trial of the coffins and the wall of skeletons's wall just vanishes revealing a long hallway that Bob can see the end of. 120 feet of darkvision

They head down it cuz they don't get bad vibes.

And there is a round table at the end of the hall. It's Saturday so no poker.

Bob and Truk can see that there is a tiny Rose sitting at the head of the table. They can only be seen by true gods, but Truk and Bob see their form as translucent since Truk is on his way to godhood and both of Bob's parents are full gods but one is chaos and the other is eldritch (those can't make a true hybrid for the sake of creation so those can either make a full god, full eldritch, demigod or mortal) so he's a demigod of chaos but will become a full god when Discord dies.

Zara sees nothing. Patrick sees nothing. The Rose gestures for us to sit, and Truk sits only to find that his but is stuck by a binding spell

Patrick: Don't worry, I HAVE AN ERASER- Truk: WAIT DON’T ERASE MY ASS-

So Truk grabs the edges of the chair and makes a strength check to jump and smash the chair. He succeeds but the chair butt is still stuck to his butt.

Truk: *touches chair butt* go *casts dispel magic* Bob: *trying to crowbar the chair but off* A- *slams into wall*

Bob: *20 fucking points of bludgeoning damage* ow... Patrick's player: He's in the family guy death pose. Me: Definitely. He knows human pop culture, but I don't. Bob: *to Rose* Why did you do this? In Game Rose: I thought it would be funny. Bob: That was a bit rude.

So, in world you can use dispel magic to repel magical beings. Also, out of combat if you cast a spell, it doesn't use any spell slots. Bob heals himself up.

And we explore the room. There are many many book shelves and a doorway that leads to a staircase. Bob tosses a rock down the stairwell and 18 minutes pass where everyone is through books and then a sound reverberates back up to us and the rock hits the ground at which Bob stops the timer.

Bob: *hiss* I don't like the sound of that. I don't like the sound of that at all... Zara: What? What is it? Bob: *doing the math* That was 18 minutes... 1080 seconds in 18 minutes... So that means its about... 108000 feet? And I don't like the sound of that... Patrick: How many football fields is that? Bob: American or normal? Patrick: American. Bob: 360? Patrick: That's a lot. What's a football field?

Bragar is Rizzing up Phillip the Ghost King Bob and Zara find one scroll each They get a scroll of Disintegrate with infinite uses Zara finds 1984 and the Communist Manifesto Bob finds then sets JK Rowling’s newest book on fire. Gains one point of inspiration from Rose. Truk gets the Hungry Caterpillar, Harold and the Purple Crayon, and Sun Tzu's The Art of War. Bob gives Rose 12 mozzerella sticks. They are gone in seconds.

And then we find the fucking MAGIC TREE HOUSE BOOKS. And the campaign members fucking love those so it's swarmed.

Zeus appears. Alfie appears behind him full morning voice “Leave.” sounding like GOW 4 Kratos. Zeus shits himself. He runs. Alfie is in pursuit with an axe.

And we enter the stairwell.

It looks like the never-ending staircase from SCP.

Rose: I hope you���re good at closing your eyes. Everyone: is it scp 096? Rose: … yes 

It's very dark and the only one who doesn't have dark vision is Patrick. Zara has 60ft dark vision because she's half tabaxi half human. Truk's eyes glow orange. Bob's glow purple. Zara's glow blue. Patrick can't see shit.

We go down the stairs for a while and eventually we get tired of it and decide to jump. We each have ways to negate fall damage, except for Patrick who is in Goliath form.

Truk: *jumps down stairwell in rage* Zara: *jumps down stairwell in cat* Patrick: *Slides down the stairwell railing* Bob: *jumps down stairwell slowing his descent with wings*

On our way down we each see 096 in the corner crying, but we don't see his face.

We jumped down 259 feet.

Truk takes 879 damage halved. He takes 438 damage. Relentless endurance so he survives.

Truk: OH MY GOD I CAN FEEL EVERY BONE- OH MY BACK. I CAN’T FEEL MY LEGS I CAN SEE THE HORIZON- Hatsune Miku?! Miku: Just passing through! Bob: Let's heal you up before Alfie finds out. Don't tell your surrogate dad. We spend a bunch of time healing up Truk.

We see a metal door with a symbol on it.

Bob: OH- Uh that's not good! Truk: What? Bob: We're at an SCP Facility- Oh we must've dimension hopped. these people contain anomalies. We ARE anomalies.

Me: Did Rose break in and steal the gender stone? Rose: It’s canon. I was the breach. I stole the gender stone.

We all turn into SCPs

Bob is scp-049 (plague doctor) Templeton (Bob's pet copperhopper) is the 999 (tickle monster) Patrick is scp 073 (Cain) Zara is scp 2085-a (cybernetic cat girl) Truk is 682 (the unkillable lizard) Dee Dee is scp 173 (The Statue)

Bob: Oh Templeton you’re so CUTE!

Zara is just being followed by cyborg cat girls

We each gain slight characteristics of the SCP we are. So Truk hates humans. Bob occasionally talks about the pestilence and can't say heal. He'll only say cure. Patrick has respect for anyone who can beat him in a fight. Zara likes anarchy. So, nothing changes. And Dee Dee has a slight urge to snap our necks.

Bob checks to see if he still has his heels on. He does.

So, he's just walking through the facility like that one meme of the plague doctor with Ganster's Paradise but in high heels as he tells each person about the scp they are.

We find a security guy dying on the floor

Guy: *dying on floor* Truk: *unkillable lizard* Are you okay? Guy: I must be dead cuz you killed 50 of my men Bob: Here. Let me cure you. Guy: D: Bob: Don't worry I'm not going to touch you. Guy: What kind of drugs did I take- Bob: This may be hard to believe but we're not your scps we've had some sort of consciousness transfer into these guys.

Bob: GET IN THE BAG- I'M SAVING YOUR LIFE. So, the guy gets in the Nap Sack and all the robot cat girls get in the Nap Sack.

We have to get out of here or the fucking nuke under the facility will explode.

We meet that little girl scp. We come across the electric gates. Bob and Truk make it. Patrick and Zara take 15 lightning damage.

Bob is runway walking through the facility.

We find scp 725 (a whale) Bob: Can I take a photo? Whale: Yes Bob: My future husband will love this! *sends Alfie photo of whale* Alfie: YOU LUCKY FUCK-

Bob takes the cure all pill. Lucifer snatched the duckie SCP. Lucifer immediately bolts when he sees Zara. Truk is a teen dad. He adopts the death child. Bob: Get into the sack, child. Never mind the guard will go crazy.

Truk has a very painful transformation back to normal. The little girl lost her weird death powers but will still be a god of death. Bob steps through and just takes off the plague gear.

Ghost king is next to Bragar in bed. Bragar is the bottom. He is level 4 exhaustion. Phillip has no need to slow down.

The Guard turns into Banjo the Frog!

Bob: We don't have to fight. Just release your subjects and be the ruler they deserve! Phillip: Why should I free them? Bragar: Please hon. Phillip: Fine.

Phillip will be in the nap sack.

Bob: Who here in this party is mentally stable? Truk: I’m mentally stable *war flashback* Everyone: No you aren’t. 

Retconned. Bragar and Phillip won’t be together. Bragar is in a cage next to Phillips bed. Phillip is abusive af.

Patrick: Do you have a safe word? Bragar: Yes. I’ve used it seven times Bob runs over stealthily and picks the lock on the cage. Bob got locked in the cage a lot when he was with Phillip and went back to him many times. Me: That is why he knows how to lock pick. Everyone: :o

Rose shuffles through various stat sheets before settling on one with an immunity to psychic, radiant and necrotic damage but nixes the psychic immunity. Anyone can cast a vicious mockery if we want to regardless of us knowing the spell or not. Bob knows that Phillip's weak spot are insults targeted against his looks and telepathically relays that knowledge to his party. Any insults targeted towards his vanity will do double damage and Phillip will have to roll wisdom saves at disadvantage.

Battle Highlights!

Bragar: I can’t believe I thought you were sexy!

Bob: YOUR HAIRLINE LOOKS LIKE IT GOT FUCKED BY A WEED WACKER. Phillip: My love you hurt me- Why? Bob: BECAUSE YOU SUCK- YOUR MOTHER SHOULD’VE SWALLOWED YOU-

Patrick: You really looked at a walmart bag and thought that’s the ideal complexion, did you? Phillip: That stung-

Truk: You look like you were deep fried but the wrong way. Phillip: *succeeds save* Your allies are better at this than you. That was horrible. Truk: Yeah. I’m better at swinging my sword.

“Zara. Fuck the rolls what are you going to do” Zara ends up getting yeeted.

Bob: Your muscles look so fake. How much work did you get done since the last time I saw you? You should get your money back. Phillip: *ego deflates* Bob: *pulls out shotgun* *BOOM* Truk is sucking.

Bob casts disintegrate on the cage. The magic rips the cage to shreds and the shrapnel is consumed by blobs that are made of the missing texture blocks that absorb the shrapnel and the cage disintegrates.

Bragar uses his breath weapon. Bob: Alfie, can I have that bottle of wyvern whiskey? Alfie: Yes. Bob: Bragar! *tosses him the whiskey* CATCH! Bragar takes a swig and spews that at him in a second breath weapon. 

Bob: The founding father and Hades from Hercules look? Not cute. Disgusting. Critical fail. Double damage initially cuz the insult was targeted towards his looks. So, 48 doubled. 96 psychic damage!

Bragar blasts him with fire then sucker punches Phillip.

He is slammed into the ground. Bob picks up his face and shows him his reflection in the mirror because throughout the fight Phillip's physical appearance has been becoming more beast like. “Now the outside matches the inside” This shatters Phillip's psyche, and he crumples into ash.

Zara kicks the pile of ash.

Bob hugs Bragar because he knows what it's like. They now have a trauma bond.

500 gold for the bed frame 5000 gold dresser

Bob sold Phillip's shit. He splits the money with Bragar.

The little girl scp is named Morticia Frump. One day to take the last name Addams when she meets the love of her life, Gomez Addams.

The cat girls are now Zara's warlocks. She is on her own way to ascending to godhood.

Bob has 2 tally marks

Zara will become the God of Anarchy emphasizing the secondary name of the Champions campaign.

Gods and Monsters.

After using the Gender Stone, Rose chucks the Gender Stone into the void "Hey Alfie, you'll love this" Alfie: Is that the gender stone? Rose: Yeah, you'll love it. Alfie: ... I don't need it cuz shape shifting. Rose: Oh.

[animutate]

anyway the soft mod is so uglyyy

i would say i dont want to be mean but i am being mean the creator is a girl fetishizing male/male relationships

[lipstickmarks]

Cunningham Manor Mystery

Summary: Gravity Falls Hellcheer AU where Eddie is a professional ghost hunter and Chrissy’s family hires him to banish the ghosts from their house. 

Author’s Note: Hellcheer is literally dipcifica and northwest manor mystery is my favorite GF episode so here is this <3 

Warning: smut, fingering, mentions of demons, mentions of ghosts, smidgen of violence, allusions to Chrissy’s ED, no Vecna, no Jason :)

Additional tags: nervous chrissy, 10 points to anyone who can spot the Robin Hood reference 

~

A sinister storm was brewing on the night of the Cunningham’s Annual Soiree. But something even more sinister lurked within the walls, beneath the floorboards that were built atop hushed atrocities. 

And that something was threatening to come out. 

The Cunninghams, wanting to keep things quiet, begrudgingly reached out to the only person insane enough to even dare dabble with the Satanic presence they could no longer deny. 

Eddie Munson. Ghost Hunter.

Phillip Cunningham had read about him in the paper-- he was a Hawkins local who made a name for himself uncovering supernatural happenings throughout the small town. It was nothing to pay much mind too, until spirits began making themselves heard throughout his house. Vengeful spirits. 

“We need to do something about this.” Phillip said to his wife, Laura. There were only 12 hours until the party started and cups had been flying off shelves, the fire place had been turning off and on by itself, plus an hourly ghostly wail was making everyone’s ears bleed.

“I will not have this nonsense in my house, Phillip! How would we even go about contacting him?”

“I can ask him.” 

Laura and Phillip looked at their daughter, Chrissy who had entered the room unseen. 

“Eddie,” She clarified. “We go to school together, he’s in my history class. I can ask him if he can come fix our ghost problem.” 

It was just like Chrissy to offer to do errands for her parents. Usually, as an excuse to get out of the house and away from them. Cunningham Manor may be a stunning house, but it is not a home. Not with Laura Cunningham’s venomous words and Phillip Cunningham’s constant absence. 

“We do NOT have a ghost problem! Keep your voice down, the neighbors will hear you!” Laura chided her daughter, even though she was the one being loud. 

A loud creak came from the family room, followed by an intense chill that all three of them felt. Phillip sighed and pulled his checkbook out of his pocket, thrusting it into Chrissy’s hands.

“Be quick about it, and do not let anyone in that part of town see you.” 

Chrissy felt a chill go up her spine, not from the ghosts, but from the excuse to leave. And the thought of seeing Eddie...

It’s the only thing that occupied her thoughts as she drove her dad’s Lincoln Continental all the way to Lover’s Lake. Chrissy had had a massive crush on Eddie since middle school, where he and his band performed in the school talent show. He looked so free as he wailed on his guitar, something she longed to feel. Ever since then, she’d taken note of him in the hallways, sneaked longing looks while they were in class together, and let her mind take her places that her conscious body would never.

Chrissy parked underneath and oak tree and got out, walking toward the only lake house on the property. When she approached the door, she saw a sign that read HELLFIRE GHOST HUNTERS FOR HIRE.

“This must be the place.” She muttered to herself. Chrissy knocked on the door and waited in anticipation. 

Disappointment washed over her when a long-haired guitarist did not open the door, but rather a 14 year old kid. He stood behind a screen with a notebook in his hands.

“Do you have an appointment?” He asked.

“I’m sorry?” 

“Do. You. Have. An. Appointment?” He asked, an air of annoyance in his voice. 

Chrissy suddenly got nervous. Should she have called ahead? Maybe his ghost hunting business was more in demand than she thought. Were they even available to help out today? Was Eddie even here? Maybe he had another ghost hunting gig or he was out on a date or--

No, no, Chrissy. Don’t go there. 

“Um, I- Hi. I’m a friend of Eddie’s-- well, I know him from school. I was just hoping that he could help me out.” 

The gatekeeper narrowed his eyes and consulted a notepad in his hands. 

“Name?” 

“Chrissy Cunningham.” 

Before he could say anything else, a hand appeared out of thin air and yanked him back by his shirt. 

She could hear a loud voice yell “Wheeler, go wash something!” A very familiar voice.

Chrissy’s heart started to race when he appeared in front of her. Eddie. All long hair and chocolate button eyes and ring-clad hands. 

He looked a bit startled to see her, but then his surprise melted into a grin.

“Well, Chrissy Cunningham, as I live and breathe...” 

She didn’t know what else to do so she awkwardly waved at him.

“Hi, Eddie.”

Eddie grinned as he opened up the screen door to let Chrissy inside. The lake house was not as shabby as the outside would have you believe. There were small mis-matched love seats, a scattering of comic books on the floor, and posters of different rock bands. 

Eddie picked up a few boxes labeled “Dungeons & Dragons” off of an ottoman and pushed it over to Chrissy. She sat down while he sat on the arm of the couch. 

“So, uh, what brings the Queen of Hawkins High to my humble workplace?” 

“I need your help. Well, my parents do. You see, we have this party tonight. It’s kind of an annual thing and they invite the mayor and a bunch of really important people but we’re having this insane ghost problem.” 

Eddie’s eyes didn’t leave Chrissy’s face as she spoke. It struck her as odd, given that people usually don’t pay attention to her when she talks. They either stare at her legs or stare at something more important and only pretend to listen. But Eddie... she had his undivided attention. 

“How insane of a ghost problem are we talking?” 

Before she could answer, the gatekeeper came back in carrying a tray of mugs. Eddie plucked one off the tray, but his gaze never strayed from Chrissy’s face. He shyly walked over to Chrissy and offered her a mug too.

“Sorry about before, the power of being Hellfire secretary goes to my head sometimes. Um, cocoa? I make it myself with my sister’s secret recipe.” 

Chrissy faltered. Her stomach twisted in both repulsion and yearning for such a sugary drink. She was never allowed cocoa. At Christmas, she could only have half a cup brewed with water instead of milk and absolutely no marshmallows. 

But it’s freezing outside and her mom’s not here to tell her no and it smells so good and she feels... safe here.

Chrissy takes the Hard Rock Cafe mug off the tray and offers him a smile of gratitude.

“Thank you.”

Chrissy takes a sip and allows herself to savor the deliriously amazing taste of cocoa and marshmallow. 

“Wheeler’s a good kid, he’s just... annoying as fuck sometimes. So, Chrissy, you were saying?” Eddie asked.

Chrissy nodded, remembering the task at hand. It was funny, she had only been here for a few minutes but she already felt so at ease. This place just felt warm and homey. 

“Right, um...moaning, things falling over, the feeling of being watched...” Chrissy shivered as she recounted the last few nights. There was no other word to describe it. She felt completely and utterly haunted. “I’ve even woken up with scratches a couple times.”

Eddie’s eyes darkened, which gave Chrissy the impression that her ghost problem was maybe bigger than her parents had led her to believe. Eddie sat his mug down on the coffee table and braced his hands on his knees. 

“Chrissy, it sounds a bit worse than ghosts.”

Chrissy swallowed.

“What’s worse than ghosts? Demons?” 

Eddie winced.

“Something like that.” He stood from the couch and sat down on the coffee table that was directly facing Chrissy. “But, it’s something my crew and I have dealt with a million times over. I would be more than happy to banish a few cranky demons for you.

Chrissy felt her face flush from his flirtatious words. She fished her dad’s checkbook out of her pocket to keep from having to look directly at him.

“How much is your going rate? We’ll pay you for a rush job.” 

Eddie placed a hand on top of hers that was clutched around the checkbook to stop her. 

He looked up at her and she couldn’t deny that Eddie Munson was even prettier up close. His eyes, his smile, his curly hair... he was making her swoon without even trying. 

“First banishment’s free. Special deal-- it’s the uh, longevity discount.” 

“Longevity?”

Eddie nodded.

“Oh yeah, you and me go way back, Chrissy. Middle school talent show? I was with my band and--”

Chrissy’s eyes widened.

“You remember the talent show?” 

Eddie looked playfully affronted.

“How could I forget? Your cheerleading routine moved me, truly. I have had such a deep appreciation for the sport ever since. You changed lives, Chrissy.” 

She was laughing now, a true, guttural laugh. One that she didn’t try and hide behind her hands or lower the volume of for fear of being too loud.

She didn’t have to hide around Eddie. She could just...be. 

“I did, huh?” She asked through her laugh.

“You changed mine.” 

And maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe it was the twinkle in his eye, or the playfulness in his voice, but Chrissy felt a rush of something she never had before. And she was certain that there was nowhere on Earth or in between that  was felt safer than with Eddie Munson. 

~

The party was in full swing. Eddie had performed a few banishment spells when he arrived. The rest of his crew-- Dustin, Mike, and Lucas, had all but completed their jobs so they helped themselves to the fondue fountain. 

Everything was going smoothly thus far so Eddie took to monitoring everything with his equipment to make sure it stayed that way.

Chrissy shuffled over to Eddie and leant down to his level.

“How’s it going?” 

“I feel like I’m suffocating.” Eddie huffed, tugging at the bow tie Chrissy had helped him with earlier. 

“I’m sorry, my parents have a strict dress code.” 

Phillip and Laura all but gagged when Eddie showed up with his ripped jeans and Hellfire t-shirt. They ordered him to change so he borrowed a tuxedo from Phillip’s younger years that still didn’t quite fit right.

Eddie shrugged it off. 

“I’ve had tighter.” 

If he noticed the way Chrissy’s cheeks darkened to a shade of pink that matched her tulle ballgown, he didn’t show it. He simply kept his face on the EMP as he scanned every inch of Cunningham Manor. 

“Don’t you wanna mingle with the nobles?” Eddie asked, noticing that Chrissy hadn't really left his side.

She shook her head, curled ponytail shaking as she did. 

“No. These parties have never been my thing.”

“Because the hors d'oeuvres taste like concrete?” Eddie asked.

Chrissy laughed at his very fair assessment of the slop her parents served.

“That, but also no one really wants to talk to me. I mean, they come up to me and ask me questions but I can tell that they don’t really care what I have to say.” 

Eddie lowered his EMP and faced Chrissy, a deep frown set on his face as he listened to her. 

“Have you ever just had people... tolerate you? Not accept you, or even love you but just let you exist?” Chrissy’s own bluntness surprised herself. This wasn’t something she talked about, to anyone. Her feelings of being invisible and unwanted. But it was just so easy to talk to Eddie. 

Eddie cleared his throat.

“Um, yeah actually. My mom split when I was still in underoos. Dad went to the big house not too long after. After a while, I kind of just accepted that everyone skips out on people like me.”

“People like you?” Chrissy asked.

Eddie managed a smile, although it was sad.

“Freaks.”

“If you’re a freak, then so am I.”

“You flatter me, Chrissy Cunningham.”

Without thinking, she reached for his hand. It was just so... easy around Eddie. It was easy to talk to him, it was easy to be around him, it was easy to touch him. 

When she met his eyes again, there was an intensity to them that ignited a fire in her belly. 

“Eddie, it’s kind of stuffy in here, do you wanna-” 

“Yes.” 

Silently, they slipped into the long hallway, far away from the party. They walked to the opposite end of the house and Eddie took a shot in the dark, opening up the door to a room that was thankfully empty. 

It was a modestly decorated guest room, but it was unused. The only light was from the full moon shining in from the window. 

It was as if nothing else existed in this room besides Eddie and Chrissy. No expectations, no loud voices demanding that they be one thing or another. 

Chrissy shivered from the lack of warmth in the room and Eddie slipped his jacket off and onto her shoulders. He straightened out the lapels and Chrissy blushed.

They smiled at one another and maybe Chrissy should have been afraid of how much she felt drawn to this man. How strongly her feelings were after only being ignited a few hours ago. But then again, maybe they’ve been building all this time, a steady plant that had grown from the seed planted all those years ago in middle school. Maybe that little flicker of attraction had always been there and had always been growing.

And maybe that’s why she kisses him. 

Chrissy placed her hands flat on his chest and Eddie reached up to push a strand of hair back behind her ear. 

She didn’t have to get on her tip toes to reach him, Eddie came down to her level. He dipped his head down and slotted his lips against hers, soft and gentle. 

Eddie was an amazing kisser, he matched the pace that Chrissy set and followed her lead. She gripped the fabric of his shirt to keep him closer (as if he was going anywhere) and he slid his arms around her waist. 

Chrissy’s eyes were still closed when Eddie pulled away, wanting to savor the magic. When she finally opened her eyes to look at him, Eddie looked flabbergasted. Like he couldn’t believe this was real life. 

He leaned in to kiss her again. And again. Then a third time for good measure. They were soft, gentle pecks that he moved to her chin, then along her jaw line, then steadily down the side of her neck and down to her collarbone. 

“Eddie...” Chrissy whispered breathlessly, gripping his bicep. 

“I’m here, Chrissy.” He said between kisses. 

She mumbled something and apparently she said it much too quietly because he didn’t pull away from her. Chrissy decided to take matters into her own hands. She tangled her hands in Eddie’s hair and tugged at his roots. 

When he finally met her eyes, she got the confidence to say what she wanted.

“Bed.” 

Eddie looked behind him at the empty California King and then looked back at Chrissy with a wicked grin. 

“Why, Chrissy Cunningham, you little minx.”

Chrissy giggled as Eddie placed both hands on the side of her face and kissed her feverishly. He walked them toward the bed and let Chrissy push him onto the plush mattress and climb on top of his lap. 

Now it was Chrissy’s turn to love on Eddie’s neck while he undid the ribbons and buttons on the back of her dress. It was a convoluted enough design to get her out of but his concentration was impeded when Chrissy started licking and sucking a hickey into his neck. 

He stifled a tiny moan and his hands stalled. 

“Chrissy, I have no idea how I’m gonna get you out of this dress.” He admitted through short breaths. 

“No time for that anyway.” Chrissy mumbled into his neck. She took one of Eddie’s large hands and placed it on top of her thigh. 

Now this, this Eddie could do. 

He tapped his fingers against her inner thigh, dancing along her skin, not quite reaching the apex of where she needed him most. But when Chrissy lets out a little whine, well how can Eddie deny her? 

He bunches her dress up and pulls her panties to the side. He plunges one finger inside of her and almost gasps at how wet she is. 

“Ah!” Chrissy whimpers and Eddie could just cum right then and there. 

They’ve only been going at it for a few minutes, how is she so wet? Has she been thinking of this all night? 

He thinks Chrissy might be able to read his mind because at that moment, she sinks her teeth into his skin. Eddie can’t hold back anymore, he moans loudly and feels Chrissy smile into his skin. 

Eddie can’t take it anymore, he needs to see her. He slides his hands through her hair just like she did to him, but instead of pulling her hair, she finds the pink scrunch holding her pony tail together. In one swift movement, he gently tugs it out of her hair and slips it onto his wrist. 

When Chrissy pulls away from his neck, he can finally look into her icy blue eyes, wide from lust. 

“You stole my scrunchie.” She says through a breathy giggle. 

“Stole?” Eddie gasped, feigning offense. “That’s a naughty word. I never steal. I simply take what is mine.” 

He gently took hold of Chrissy’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, his chocolate brown eyes boring into her blue ones. 

“Do you wanna be mine, sweetheart?” 

Chrissy feels a warmth pooling in her lower belly. She would be embarrassed at how wet she is except for the fact that she can’t find it in herself to be embarrassed around Eddie. Ever. 

“Yes. Yes, Eddie.” She says desperately. 

That must have been the answer Eddie was looking for because he pulls her in for a heated kiss. He slides his finger back inside of her and swirls it around, causing Chrissy to moan into his mouth. 

Their kisses become more heated and messy as Eddie pumps his finger harder and faster into her. Chrissy nearly comes undone when he adds a second finger. 

“Jesus Christ, Eddie.” Chrissy thinks she might die when he curls his finger and rubs her clit with just the right amount of pressure. “I think I’m gonna--”

“You wanna cum on my fingers?” 

Chrissy whines, the image of Eddie’s ring-clad fingers soaked with her cum almost topples her over the edge. 

What finally does finish her off is when Eddie adds a third finger. 

His fingers are somehow the perfect size to stretch her walls in a way that burns with pleasure. His three fingers pumping in and out of her, soaking her thigh and his. 

Chrissy is moaning, whimpering, whining, getting louder as she builds to a climax. All of it is music to Eddie’s ears.

He swirls his finger around her clit and Chrissy has to bury her face in Eddie’s neck to keep from screaming his name. She cums on his fingers and she cums hard. Eddie continues fingering her through her orgasm and even teases her a little bit all the way to an aftershock. 

When she finally finishes, she’s panting into his neck and Eddie is holding onto her for dear life.

He presses kiss after kiss into her hair. 

“Doing okay?” 

Chrissy nods, then raises her head up to face Eddie. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair is messed up, her dress is bunched up at her thighs. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay.” She beams at him. Then, because she can, she traces the outline of his lips with the tip of her index finger. “Thank you.” She whispers.

Eddie laughs quietly.

“What kind of a gentleman would I be if I didn’t make a lady cum after banishing her demons?” 

Chrissy giggles and leans in for one more kiss when a loud banging and sharp screams start coming from the other room. 

“Shit.” Eddie curses under his breath.

“That doesn’t sound good.” Chrissy works on getting her dress straightened back out, but doesn’t bother with putting her hair back up. Eddie helps her up and the two of them rush back out to the living room, only to see some sort of apparition flying over the party. 

The guests are huddled in a corner, terrified. And it’s not hard to see why. 

In the center of the room is a cackling spirit with glowing eyes, flying out into the crowd and sending out blasts of lightning to different areas of the house. One of the lightning blasts shatters the glass window that leads to the backyard and 

“Oh my God! What is that?!” Chrissy grabs onto Eddie’s arm, shaking like a leaf.  

“A level 7 ghost.” Eddie says, his voice even. He’s seen this before. He turns to Chrissy, sincerity and affection in his eyes. “Chrissy, stay here.” 

Chrissy’s eyes widen and her heart drops into her stomach.

“What? No. Eddie, no--” Tears build in her eyes. She just got Eddie. She can’t lose him. 

Eddie places his hand on the side of her face. Although he’s smiling, she can see the terror in his eyes. He leans in and presses a desperate, searing kiss to her lips. Somehow, among the chaos and world caving in, everything quiets. 

“I’ve been in love with you since middle school, Chrissy Cunningham.” 

Chrissy gasps, those earth-shattering words that Eddie leaves her with as he dashes into battle. She does her absolute best to stay upright as she watches Eddie wave his arms around and call out to the ghost. 

Tears overwhelm her and she can’t do anything but watch. 

Eddie pulls out a small device that had been hanging from his belt. How did she not notice that before? 

He presses a button to activate it and aims it at the ghost. It emits a powerful signal that sucks the spirit into it. It shrieks at an unforgiving volume, and Chrissy winces, covering her ears. 

The spirit gets sucked into the canister and Eddie struggles to keep his hold onto it because of the sheer volume. His shoulders are shaking and it’s obvious that he’s doing everything to keep it from overpowering him. 

“AHH!” Eddie yells out as the spirit finally gets sucked into the canister and the boys quickly slid the cap on to keep it from escaping. 

The entire room breathes a sigh of relief.

Chrissy nearly falls over. 

“Eddie!” Chrissy runs at full speed toward Eddie and wraps her arms tightly around him. She doesn’t care who sees. She doesn’t care that her house is caving in. Eddie is safe. That’s what she cares about. He risked life and limb to save everyone. To save her.

He’s her hero.

[trft-bane24gir]

“keep it moving” | lil’ kim by mtv news, 2003.

"I'm locked in a five-year contract with [Kim]," said Cease, who's signed as a solo artist to Queen Bee Records. Other than albums that Kim herself has recorded, Cease's poor-selling but critically acclaimed 1999 solo debut, The Wonderful World of Cease A Leo, is the only release to come from the Queen Bee Records imprint since it was founded in 1998.

-- by Shaheem Reid, with additional reporting by Sway Calloway, Jeff Cornell and Quddus Phillipe Kimberly Jones is dying to go Hollywood, but some people are hissing that she already has. She definitely isn't the same 'round-the-way girl the Notorious B.I.G. introduced us to in 1995. Little Ms. Jones has estranged herself from old ideals and friends from her 'hood that she once considered family. She's got a fresh attitude to go with her new set of Hollywood and high-society buddies and associates, people such as Hugh Hefner, Pamela Anderson, Carmen Electra, Don King, Donatella Versace and Victoria Gotti.

Kimberly doesn't even look the same — she switches hairstyles almost as often as she changes rhyme flows. Plus she's got a new surgically altered nose to go with her voluptuous, augmented breasts. "When I decided to finally do that is when I realized I was a sex symbol," she has said about her implants. "It's something that I felt would make me have more fun with my photo shoots and enhance my look a little bit." But going Hollywood for Kim really means just that: She wants to make movies. Her dreams have nothing to do with forgetting where she came from, or — as they might say in her native Bedford Stuyvesant neighborhood — "acting brand new." Kim maintains she's the same Brooklyn girl at heart: feisty, focused and determined not to fail. Like Will Smith and, more recently, Queen Latifah, rap's Queen Bee wants to make it big in Tinsletown. Yeah, she's appeared in such flicks as "Juwanna Mann" (2002) and "Zoolander" (2001), but Kim knows she's capable of bigger roles and more explosive performances. "Being involved in different entities of the game is so much fun 'cause you don't just get stuck in one genre," she explained. "I like to be here and there. My personality and my character are versatile." But unlike the aforementioned rap legends, she still wants to keep the music industry buzzing about her material. "That's one thing I don't like," Kim said, referring to how some of her fellow MCs' music careers suffered as their movie careers took off. "Will [Smith] was doing it at one point. Regular rappers were trying to [sell] five million [albums] and he was doing seven million, with flicks out that were doing $50 million a week. That's the type of success I want to follow. I think what happens is that the rappers [who] have success in Hollywood kinda start ignoring their music. I don't think it matters to them anymore. I ain't gonna front, [if] you're getting $20 to 25 million a film ... even $10 million a film is enough to make you say, 'I don't have to do an album this year.' [But] I wouldn't do that." And that's no Hollywood talk, either. Kim not only has a movie called "Guns and Roses" due out this summer, she has a new LP, La Bella Mafia, in stores now. Named La Bella Mafia after a 1997 made-for-TV movie, "Bella Mafia," in which widows of mob figures take over the family business, this LP has been heralded as Kim's best work since her trailblazing 1996 solo debut, Hard Core. On Mafia, she runs away from the syrupy melodies and hooks that hampered 2000's Notorious K.I.M.'s "How Many Licks" and "I'm Human," which seemed to pander to radio and dancefloors. Kim's latest opus is a return to the streets, where she enlists such sound-shapers as the always-unpredictable Swizz Beatz, Scott Storch, who has co-produced some of Dr. Dre's classic jeep thumpers, and Mobb Deep's master of morose tracks, Havoc.

"She's a star, [and] people respect stars," said Havoc, who first worked with Kim on Mobb Deep's remix to "Quiet Storm." "She's smart, and most of the decisions she makes are good musically. She's among the top people in the game, and she's better than a lot of [guys]. You don't have a choice but to give her that respect." "I think she's on top of the game," concurred Queen Latifah, who recorded with Kim on the soundtrack for the Academy Award-winning film "Chicago." "I just bought her album the other day and I love it. I think it's [about] her growing up. She still ballsy, and she's still gonna pop junk to any other female rapper out there, but I like where she is right now. I like to see her in control of where she wants to go. I'm proud of her." And while Kim loves the praise she's received from her peers and fans, she feels things could still be a lot better. Although Mafia put her on pace to equal or surpass the numbers she posted with her biggest selling LP, the double platinum Hard Core (despite its lukewarm reception, Notorious K.I.M. still sold over a million copies as well), Kim wasn't pleased with La Bella Mafia's first-week sales of close to 167,000 copies. "A lot of people say 'Kim is up there,' " the Queen Bee lamented, "but I don't feel that I'm up there 'cause I haven't accomplished my goal yet, which is to sell 10 million records of one album. Imagine what people will say when I reach that point." One thing people do talk about is how long it takes Kim to churn out albums. There was a four-year gap between the first two records, and even with the widely heralded Trackmasters and the spirit of Mafia co-executive producer B.I.G. fueling this album's beats and rhymes, it took years to make as well.

"It's kind of hard because I like to take my time to make things perfect," Kim said, explaining why she always has such a long gap between projects. "I went into this album thinking, 'I'm just going to have fun with it.' I said, 'I'm going to do what I want to do. Let me do this the way I feel B.I.G would have wanted me to do this.' He's the one that taught me everything I know, and he tells me things still. That's why B.I.G is listed as the co-executive producer on my album. It's just me and him." What also slows down production is the fact that you just can't keep the black Erica Kane locked in the studio for too long. She's got her manicured hands dipped in far too many projects to be getting stuck in a sound booth all night. For one thing, she's got a new clothing line, Hollyhood, still in development, with a launch tentatively planned for the fall. A true fashion aficionado, Kim's wild outfits, trend-setting hairdos and modeling stints for Mac and Candies and have given her a strong presence in the fashion world. Hobnobbing with clothing kingpins with last names like Prada, Versace and Armani have only strengthened her cause. "When she did 'Guns and Roses,' she was on the mark," LisaRaye said of Kim's spin as Chastity, the vixen of the bunch. In addition to the movie, the two worked together on a song for the film's soundtrack. "We filmed that movie in 18 days, so you know how quick and steady the flow was," she continued. "She was actually excellent." "It was fun," Kim said with a grin. "It's like a female 'Young Guns.' Us five females, we're like sisters. When we all got together it was nothing but love. For the most part, we were all sisters on that set — we all had each other's back. I like to surround myself with good people — positive people committed to their work." 

And make no mistake — if you're not committed to Kim, you can't be down. At her album release party a few weeks ago, celebrities such as Dave Chappelle, Mobb Deep, Jagged Edge and Wayne Wonder came out to one of Manhattan's newest hot spots, the Lobby, all ready to hail the Queen. Conspicuously absent were Kim's longtime running mates, Lil' Cease and the rest of the Junior M.A.F.I.A. Kim and the J.M., all friends and protégés of Biggie's, had been virtually inseparable since they were introduced back in 1995. The originally nine-member crew appeared on classic songs together, put out a gold album and performed at countless shows nationwide. When B.I.G. died, they leaned on each other during their collective time of mourning, and his memory was the glue that held them all together. And the bond was deep. When Kim went solo, she looked out for her boys as their careers stagnated. If they needed money, she hit them off. If one of her guys got in trouble with the law, as Larceny and Cease were known to do on a few occasions, Kim, the perennial mother figure, always bailed them out. At one point, the clique was so close that they all lived together in Kim's New Jersey mansion. But since then, the group's relationship has soured, and the Queen Bee has had to literally clean house. "Well, you have to move on and you have to grow," Kim said, visibly holding back venom and opting to give a more politically correct answer as to why she no longer associates with Cease and Co. "You can't be taken advantage of for too long, and it's a case where unfortunately, [the relationship] just went bad. In the same sense, I hope they do well and [that] they can find God in their hearts." On La Bella Mafia's "Heavenly Father," however, Kim's a little less restrained. She raps, "And was it enough that I split 20 percent of what I make?/ Was it enough that I cut n----s half of what I bake?" 

Lil' Cease is just as angry with Kim these days as she is with him. His biggest beef with her is not that she cut him off — it's that she won't let him go. He's so miffed at his onetime homegirl that he's started a "Free Cease A Leo" T-shirt campaign.

"I'm locked in a five-year contract with [Kim]," said Cease, who's signed as a solo artist to Queen Bee Records. Other than albums that Kim herself has recorded, Cease's poor-selling but critically acclaimed 1999 solo debut, The Wonderful World of Cease A Leo, is the only release to come from the Queen Bee Records imprint since it was founded in 1998.

"She's putting all this stuff out like she's not messing with me right now," Biggie's puffy-cheeked former best friend fumed. "I feel like if you [are] not messing with me, give me walking papers so I can do me. We had our differences [and] I thought we could patch them up, but honey is doing her thing. I'm not knocking her, but she still got me under paperwork. [I've] been trying to get in touch with her, [but] she's ducking me. I call the office, [but] she don't want to talk to me. I go to the office [and] I can't see her."

"There's a lot of truth to what Cease was saying," Kim retorted with a snarl before clamming up. "I don't really want to get into that. The only thing I'm concerned with is La Bella Mafia being in stores. The whole truth will come out later and I can't wait." Although Kim is being clandestine and won't say exactly when her and the Mafia started to fall out, she is more than willing to reveal when her relationship with her former manager, mentor, friend and Notorious K.I.M.'s executive producer P. Diddy went south. "I can honestly say that during the whole process of [making Notorious K.I.M.], Puff and I were like a brother and a sister arguing," said the 26-year-old. "One minute we'd be the best of friends, and then the next minute things weren't working out at all," Kim said. "Sometimes Puffy likes people to do whatever he says. I'm a creative person, an entertainer. I'm a boss lady. A lot of times when you [are] working with a boss man, you have to respect each other's opinion. I just wanted my respect and because I was young and female, I don't think he gave it to me fully." "I'm a hard coach from beginning to end," Diddy said unapologetically about his meticulous work ethic. "I'mma push an artist to [be] the best. Some artists feel [like], 'I've grown up, and I don't want you to push me this hard no more.' I can't really do that. I'm not crazy or anything, I just want to be the best. We gotta be the best every time." Kim said she was also hurt because when times got tough for her after Notorious K.I.M. received mixed reactions, Diddy abandoned her. "I loved Puffy with all my heart, [and] if you look back, I was the only one supporting him. [At the time we were making my album] I wasn't even signed to Bad Boy," she vented. "During those times I held his hands, like, 'I know these people hate you right now, but I'm with you, dawg.' Puffy can be very selfish. I had to let him go do him and I had to go do me. I needed people at that time that was going to support me 150 percent. I was only getting 50 percent. Unfortunately, I don't speak to him at all."

P. Diddy, who seems indifferent about the split, offers a simpler explanation: "I think it's [about] people outgrowing each other and people wanting different things." While Kim hasn't cut off all her old friends, she has been gravitating toward a new crowd on the road to becoming a better-rounded person. One of her biggest cheerleaders now is Victoria Gotti, a multimedia personality and the daughter of late mob boss John Gotti. The two met over a year ago at an event in New Jersey and have built a nurturing relationship. They've done their share of partying and have at least one big adventure in common: The line-slinging siren recently held her buddy to a long-standing promise to appear in one of her videos. In February, the pair braved the bitter cold to shoot the unreleased clip for Kim's song "I Came Back For You" in front of the Brooklyn Bridge. Gotti says she'd do anything for her homie. "It's weird because she's everything she is onstage and nothing like her [persona]," Gotti said, describing why such a diverse group of people show Kim love. "She is a chameleon. She can just rise to [any] occasion and fit whatever mood everybody's in. That's the one thing I adore about Kim, [and] that's the first thing that shines through. Forget her looks, forget her outrageous outfits — she's got personality that's second to none." And what Kim's hoping for is that soon, her success in all fields will be second to none. Even as her fan base broadens, she maintains that she'll never forget the gig that first put her on to all the other opportunities. In fact, she is as hungry as ever to stand out and rock the mic.  "I don't ever worry about competition," she says confidently in regards to her fellow female rappers. "I do a totally different thing from all these females. Everybody feels that 'I have to be at the top.' We can all be at the top selling records. There is no 'I'm better.' I know I'm a Queen and I do what I do.' "

    And what she is doing is everything.

[anunvalidcritic]

WATCHMEN (series) EP2

(DISCLAIMER: MY OPINION IS MY OWN AND CAN BE DEEMED INVALID TO THOSE WHO DON’T CARE FOR IT.)

We ended off on a big cliffhanger so let’s see where we’re going to be taken from there...

                          MARTIAL FEATS OF COMANCHE

Look at all those typewriters

Oh shit, so we’re German alrighty then. I speak German as well.

“Hello, boys, what are you doing over here? Fighting the Germans? Has it ever done you any harm, of course, some whites folks lying and any  Asian Americans papers told you that the Germans ought to be wiped out for the sake of humanity and democracy. But I ask you boys; what is democracy? Do you enjoy the same rides as the white people do in America? Are you rathered treated over there as second class citizens? Can you get a seat in a theatre where white people seat or can you even ride in the south in the same streetcar as white people? And how about the law; is lynching and the most horrible cruelties connected there with a lawful proceeding in a democratic country. Now all of this is entirely different in Germany. Colored people have mighty fine position in business in Berlin and other German cities. Why then fight the germans you have been the tool of the egotistic rich in america and there is nothing in the whole game for you but broken bones, horrible wounds, and death. To carry the gun in service of America is not an honor but a shame throw it away and come over to the German line and you will find friends who will help you along.” - GERMAN SOLDIER/YOUNG AFRICAN AMERICAN SOLIDER/YOUNG & OLD WHEELCHAIR MAN

Sorry for the long monologue above but it was to powerful for it not to be posted. 

damn she just rolled him away as if they weren’t just at a crime scene

breathe ANGELA breathe

damn 105 and still alive .... wow

“He had skeletons in his closet.” - WHEELCHAIR MAN

His name is now WILL

Well ANGELAs heading back to the crime scene

“Oh I read it I just don’t believe it.” - NEWSPAPER SALESMAN

I bet there looking at those wheelchair tracks right now...

LOOKING GLASS really just came into that car and the first thing he asked if he had any food. 

MEMORABLE DIALOGUE

LOOKING GLASS - “Was he high?”

LADY KNIGHT - “He might’ve done some blow.”

LOOKING GLASS - “Sounds like quite a party.”

LADY KNIGHT - “My kids were there.”

LOOKING GLASS - “Your kids.”

LADY KNIGHT - “...Fuck you, you shiny fuck. What are you interegating me now?”

LOOKING GLASS - “Why would I interegate you?”

LADY KNIGHT - “Cuz you’re a cold motherfucker glass.”

LOOKING GLASS - “Then why am I crying under here.” 

This was quite intense for that short amount of town. 

So they’re just gonna touch his body without gloves on at all???

FLASHBACK

ANGELA and CALVIN are dancing and it’s Christmas Eve. 

“There’s somebody in our house.“ - ANGELA

WOOOW this dude is bold af

SHE FLEW BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MY GOD!!!!!!!!

She was out for 3 days!

JUDD and ANGELA having a little heart to heart after being fucked up by the same group of people.

They’re the only 2 people in the force that survived... 

THE WHITE NIGHT

PRESENT

She looks like she wants to break some shit.

“So are you coming or are you fucking breathing?” - RED SCARE

That NIXON statue kinda threw me for a loop lol

Why the fuck would you throw a glass bottle at the police??? (like Ik your mad but damn.)

I think it’s safe to say that ANGELA let some of her anger out on that man...

AYYE HENRY LOUIS GATES JR. 

WILLIAM’s DREAMLAND THEATRE (his parents owned the theatre)

MEMORABLE DIALOGUE

ANGELA - “Can you take a rain check?”

KIDS GRANDPA - “I can take a real check. *ANGELA proceeds to pull out her pocketbook and writes a check* ...Must be satisfying putting those Redfordations to work.”

ANGELA - “Get the fuck off my porch.”

lol, that little girl said, “keep walking before I stab you in the butt.”

Those Martian Blocks are pretty fucking cool.

TOPHER SHOOK

Is that Orville Peck playin’ in the background??

(he lowkey looks like he can be on the show...)

Ig I would’ve knocked that shit over to if I didn’t like the information I just received.

                                   AMERICAN HERO STORY

“WARNING: The Federal Communications Commission has determined the following content to be emotionally harmful. Young children should not view this content under any circumstances. Even if supervised by a Parent or Guardian the views and opinions expressed, including the depictions of persons of color and members of the LGTBQA+ community do not reflect any official policy or position of the US Government. This program contains graphic language, violence, nudity, misogyny, racism, anti-Semitism, hate crimes, and depictions of sexual assault. Be advise.”

TOPHER just seatin’ there lookin’ at the screen can it start already. 

LOOKING GLASS keeps that mask on at all times. 

Who tf is that talkin’ about getting shot in the head and washing up onto the Boston Harbor?? Do sounds like BATMAN.

 At least he didn’t knock that little kid upside his head. 

WOAH THAT MOTHERFUCKER SHOT HIS FUCKING EAR!!!

ROFL THE WAY THIS DUDE CAME IN THROUGH THE WINDOW

DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD YOU HAVE TO thROW A CANNED FOOD ITEM IN ORDER FOR IT TO HAVE AN IMPACT LIKE THAT!?!?!?

I have to say that this man is very skilled with a shard of glass

Okay, so you’re just going to continue to shoot the rest of bullets into one of your accomplices??? *make it make sense*

Wow ok, so we're going all out with the headbanging then??

“Who am I, when I was little every time I would look into the mirror I saw a stranger starring back at me. He was very very angry. Hot, vibrating electricity with no place to ground it.” - HOODED JUSTICE

this dude is dramatic af lol but this is his story I’ll let him tell it...

SENATOR JOE truly is an ol’ country boy with that accent rofl

And ANGELA is down for the count

LOL she played that shit off well

Night vision goggles ok ok that’s cool

She found something.....

OH FUCK NO BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So this man is pretty every day on repeat like it’s Groundhog’s Day or something. 

“When is a lie not a lie?“ - OZYMANDIAS

“When it’s acting.” - MAID

HA, he was rude af to MR. PHILLIPS

So there recreating the seen of how DR. MANHATTAN came to be...

OZYMANDIAS is one crazy mothertucker....

...tiny weiner...

.... wtf they all look alike.... oh that dude really died!

How long has WILL been in the bakery??

nvm not that long apparently lol

LOL he didn’t have to throw that shell from the boiled egg like that

This dude really does have “friends in high places” but he didn’t mean for her to literally check CAPTAIN JUDD’s closet smdh

------------

This episode was quite delightful and I’m ready to see what the next episode has to offer. Until then clean your hands, be careful of who and what you’re around, and don’t get so down in the dumps.

[jmsa1287]

In HBO's 'Watchmen,' a Timely Tale Told

i wrote about “Watchmen,” Damon Lindelof’s excellent adaptation of the cult comic series for HBO.

About a year ago, TV creator Damon Lindelof announced his next project for HBO would be an adaptation of the cult comic series "Watchmen," pointedly noting that his take on it would be more like a "remix" than a straightforward adaptation of Alan Moore's work from 1986. "The Leftovers" creator makes good on his word and "Watchmen," debuting Sunday, is a vital show that is more concerned with America's painful history — especially towards Black Americans — and the persistence of racism in our modern world than it is about cape-wearing heroes.

Lindelof has experience in taking intellectual property far beyond its endpoint. He burned through Tom Perrotta's novel for "The Leftovers" for that drama's first season, leaping off the page and journeying to the end of the world and back for seasons two and three. Though "Watchmen" is technically a sequel to the 12 issue comics, which was illustrated by Dave Gibbons, it takes place more than 30 years after they were published. Set in 2019, albeit an alternate reality than the one we live in, "Watchmen" follows a new character not found in the original series: Detective Angela Abar, played by Oscar-winner Regina King. Here, Vietnam is a state (as a result of the U.S. winning the Vietnam War), Robert Redford (yes, the now-retired actor) has been the president since 1992 (term limits for presidents don't exist) and cops in Tulsa, Oklahoma (where "Watchmen" is primarily set) wear masks to hide their true identities. A local was passed in the wake of an organized attack from The Seventh Kalvary, a mutated version of the Ku Klux Klan, where its white supremacist members wear Rorschach masks in honor of the vigilante of the same name. Their terrorism forced local authorities to literally mask themselves and take on alternate identities, like Angela, who protects her city as the black-hooded Sister Night, alongside her partner Looking Glass, played by Tim Blake Nelson in a reflective balaclava.

That cops, evildoers and vigilantes alike all wear masks is one of the show's biggest themes. Everyone is hiding in this twisted world, muddling who is bad and who is good. This is underlined by a "joke" F.B.I. Agent Laurie Blake (a wonderful turn by Jean Smart) asks Angela: "Do you know how you can tell the difference between a masked cop and a vigilante?" Angela says, "No." "Me either," Laurie fires back.

But that's just one thing "Watchmen" has on its mind. Above all else, the show is deeply political, similarly to its source material, which drew on the existential dread sparked by the Cold War. Here, the enemy is racism and white supremacists as well as the country's dark history when it comes to its treatment to people of color. The show's pilot, directed by Nicole Kassell ("The Americans," "Vinyl"), starts in 1921 during the events of the Black Wall Street Massacre when mobs of white people attacked black residents and businesses of the Greenwood District in Tulsa. Having been described as one of the worst incidents of racial violence in America, the devastating scene becomes the backbone for "Watchmen" before the episode skips to today where a shooting of a cop sparks the events of this series.

"Watchmen" is a big swing for HBO. Now that "Game of Thrones" has finished, the network is looking for its next biggest show. "Succession" Season 2, which just aired its season finale, is likely its most talked-about show and only topped 1 million viewers with its latest episode. There's also "Westworld" but that dystopian sci-fi drama has been off the air for a year, with sights to return for a third season sometime in 2020. With "Watchmen," there's a built-in fanbase; fans of the franchise will surely tune in as well as D.C. fans and those who go to the movies to catch the dozen or so superhero stories each year.

Unlike the superhero movies many of us have come to love, Lindelof's "Watchmen" doesn't center around a buff and handsome leading man or A-list star. Along with King, Smart, and Nelson, the show stars Hong Chau, playing nefarious trillionaire Lady Trieu, Don Johnson, who plays Tulsa's chief of police Judd Crawford and Oscar winner Louis Gossett Jr., playing Will Reeves, a mysterious older man who confronts Angela and is pivotal to the season. Jeremy Irons shows up, too, having a hell of a lot of fun playing Adrian Veidt a.k.a. Ozymandias, a villain in the "Watchmen" series. There are mentions of Dr. Manhattan, the naked and blue god-like figure who left Earth to live on Mars.

"Watchmen" stars a group of older adults, most of them women and people of color, making the show unlike any superhero story we've seen before. Though fanboys ought to tune into the show they may not stick around; this version of "Watchmen" is diverse and unflinching in its story that's 80% drama and 20% superhero comics. But "Watchmen" fits snuggly in this latest wave of comic book movies/TV shows. D.C.'s recently released "Joker" is one of the most controversial films of 2019. Though its message is muddled, Todd Phillip's take on the origin story of the supervillain is steeped in a sort of realism that is interested in showing someone struggling with their mental health while living on the fringes of a society that doesn't care for him. This next phase of superhero movies is meta and seemingly more interested in telling "real stories" (something that might spark Martin Scorsese's interest). But where "Joker" flounders, "Watchmen" thrives. Lindelof, who gets help from a number of directors and writers throughout the six episodes provided for review, tells a raw and painful story while being exciting and watchable. There are a lot of weird tricks that make the show incredibly engaging; not just the performances but the world itself: There's technology that allows people with Alzheimer's disease to remember their memories but cell phones don't exist. That sounds simplistic but balancing tone here is a tough feat to pull off and seem effortless.

"Watchmen" is bold storytelling trojan horsed into a comic book framework. But Lindelof and Co. don't reject the original series and instead embrace its weirdness and its urgency, which will undoubtedly make the show one of the biggest of the year — exactly what HBO wants.

[happiestholland-blog]

Coffee Shop Chapter 3

Fuckboy Tom AU!! TomHollandxReader 

Summary: You and Tom meet again, just a little change in environment :-)

Word Count: 4199

Warnings: Swearing, mostly fluff, a little angst.

A/N: YAYYY finally lol. This is the longest part I’ve done so far, and I apologize for the wait. It ends a little weird, but I promise I have this going in the direction i want. THE NEXT PART IS ABOUT TO BE SO GOOD. I AM SO E X C I T E D. I’m about to start a tag list!!! Message me to be tagged!

Rain, rain, rain. That’s all the weather has been like for the last four days. The city has been plagued with massive puddles resembling small lakes, and the air is bitingly cold. It’s a miracle that with the cold temperatures, you haven’t been trapped in your apartment building by what could’ve and maybe should’ve been a blizzard. And if it had been a blizzard, you wouldn’t have been able to see Tom at the coffee shop for what became a part of both of your daily routines over the last week. The rain hasn’t stopped either of you from meeting each other, which makes your stomach knot in the best way. He was willing to see you everyday despite the awfully shitty weather. You feel kind of silly, hinging the fact that he maybe, just might, be happy to see you everyday as you are as happy to see him, based off the fact that every day you shared a coffee or tea or two together before carrying on with the rest of your day. But you felt especially silly, since you still hadn’t exchanged numbers or even told each other your last names. You always meant to ask him for his number, much less his last name, but whenever you two began to talk, it would always slip your mind, and you wouldn’t remember.

Today’s weather was a small improvement from the previous days. There was a light mist over the city. The air was still bitingly cold, but of course, that wouldn’t stop you. You pulled on a long sleeved t-shirt, a sweater, a pair of comfortable jeans, your rain boots, and braided your hair sloppily over a shoulder. The coffee shop’s atmosphere was always warm, so you didn’t bother with one of your bulkier coats before leaving. The shop was only a short block away from your building and as usual, you weren’t planning on staying out afterwards either.

You usually got to the cafe before Tom did, so in order to busy yourself, you usually helped Ms. Phillips stock coffee bean bags, travel mugs, and other merchandise in the shop’s shelves, wiping tables down, and made sure the magazines scattered throughout the shop were current and up to date. These were small favors you usually did which Ms. Phillips sometimes paid you back for with free drinks and coupons. She often teased you about Tom, about how handsome he was, and how you both probably had a huge crush on each other, but every time, you deny it, giving you a weird sinking and terrifying, yet floating feeling because maybe she might be right. After all, she is old enough to have seen it all. But it’s impossible. Tom was… something else; sweet and kind, and not to mention gorgeous, and you almost forget that you’ve been hurt in the past and that titles and love are actually terrifying, but he’s definitely out of your league. You see how women look at him from outside the window as they pass the coffee shop window and as they buy their drinks. Ms. Phillips has even warned you before that he could have a side you could’ve never imagined. Whatever happens, happens, you think to yourself. But you’re not about to lose your mind over this. But you still find yourself lost in your thoughts as you finish wiping a table down before taking a seat at your own usual spot in the corner. You just pull out a pen and colored pencils, as the door chime jingles and Tom bustles his way in, an unopened umbrella hanging from one of his wrists, both hands lodged in his coat pockets.

“(Y/N), Hi,” Tom greets you, still breathless from the cold. He takes some time to hang both his coat and umbrella from the back of his chair before taking a seat.

“Hey Tom,” you smile.

“What, no drinks today?” he teases, noticing that you didn’t have your usual mug of green tea or coffee before you today.

You shake your head with a smile. “Nah. I just helped the owner, Ms. Phillips with some chores and stuff today, so I haven’t found the time yet.”

He gets back to his feet. “Well that’s good news because I probably owe you a drink or two anyway. My treat,” he says with a shy smile. “Green tea or coffee today?”

“Oooo, you big spender,” you laugh, borrowing his little joke from your second time meeting. “I’ll go for a coffee today, thank you, Tom.”

He snorts a laugh. “Hey, you deserve it, (Y/N). I got you.” Pulling his wallet from his back pocket, he makes his way into the crowded line, which gives you time to study him.

Tom’s wearing a beanie today, little brown curls sticking out from underneath it. He’s wearing a black hoodie over blue jeans with a pair of Doc Martens boots. His hands look rough and calloused from here, but you know from sitting in front of him every morning that though calloused, their movements are gentle and light. He’s rough looking despite his sweet personality. In fact, he looks exactly like the type of guy you knew to avoid. Just by standing there in line, he had gained not just your attention, but the attention of half of the other women sitting in the coffee shop with you. But that doesn’t seem to bother him at all, much less capture his attention. Your eyes travel from his hands back to his face, and feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment when he catches your eye.

Now, Tom is no stranger to catching women’s eyes on him in public; whether it be from recognition from his role as Spider-man or simply because he was good looking. But when he caught your eye, his heart did a flip flop. You were dressed simply today. You didn’t do much to your physical appearance to call attention to yourself, and yet here you were taking all of his. His eyes locked on yours, and your skin is tinged pink in embarrassment, but you smile sweetly and return your gaze back to your notebook. He’s not going to fall for you, he won’t, he reminds himself. He finishes paying for your drinks and slowly makes his way back to your table, careful not to make any spills.

He pulls his beanie off his head and shakes his messy curly hair out with a hand. “So, I’ve been forgetting to ask, but have you gotten any sleep lately?” he asks, aware that you used to never get any sleep due to your obnoxious neighbor living a floor up from you.

You sip your drink, savoring the warm feeling that fills you. “I did actually. He’s been quiet lately, thank god,” you reply, setting your mug down.

He nods. “That’s great, it’s good to know you’re finally getting to sleep.”

“Yeah,” you agree with a smile. “Thanks to him, I haven’t binge watched anything on netflix in a while.”

Tom smirks. “You know, I don’t know if you’re saying that as if it’s a good or bad thing or not.”

“Now that you say that, I’m not too sure about it myself,” you laugh.

At this point, Tom’s breathing gets lodged in his throat again. Your laugh. It literally lifts his stress away, but he can’t have that. He doesn’t want to feel that floating feeling. It made him vulnerable. He can’t stand looking at you without his heart flipping in his chest, and here, at your usual spot in the shop, he has no choice but to keep his gaze on you as you both speak, or be a complete asshole and stare out the window. And both were non-options. If he kept sitting here, focusing on only looking at your pretty face and listening to your soft voice, he knew he start feeling like maybe he should let himself fall a little. A non-option. But being an asshole was also a no-go. You didn’t deserve to think he didn’t care, you were too kind to him for him to do that.

“Hey, (Y/N)?”

“Mhm?” you hum, sipping your drink.

“Would you care for a walk?” Tom asks. At least this way, if they were to walk side by side, he wouldn’t feel obligated to look at you in the face as you walked; there are plenty of things to look at on a walk. “You know, for a change in environment?” he adds, for cover.

There’s a look of hesitation on your face. “What’s wrong with the shop?” you quickly tease, to hide your apprehension.

Tom shakes his head. “Nothing. It’s lovely. But you know, a change in environment?” he repeats sheepishly. He’s never been this bad with words before, and his ideas being rejected or questioned wasn’t a common thing that happened to him. His nerves probably weren’t doing him any good either. Since when did he ever feel nervous about talking to girls? He knew that was dangerous. If he’s nervous about someone, that means he cares about their opinion of him.

You drain the rest of your drink in a few quick gulps and put your notebook away.

Tom smiles. “So is that a yes?”

“I don’t know, Tom. It’s not that I don’t want to go…” you begin.

He shakes his head, a victorious little smile tugging at the corner of his lips, knowing that you were about to give in.

“But fine, I guess we can use a little ‘change in environment’”, you roll your eyes playfully as you air quote his words.

Tom’s smile blooms all the way across his face, and he drains his mug as well. “Thank you. Let’s get going.”

You slip your arms into your coat and pick up your backpack, and head out. As soon as you step out the coffeeshop doors, you remember the freezing forty degree weather and that you didn’t bother dressing very warmly. A cold breeze sends a shiver down your spine, and you clench your teeth to keep them from chattering, pulling the hood of your thin coat up.

“Tom?” you pause on the sidewalk.

“Yeah?”

You stuff your hands into your thin coat pockets, your fingers already a bright red from the cold. “I didn’t exactly dress for the occasion.”

Tom does a quick once over, noticing your thin coat. He tries his hardest not to wince. He couldn’t stay cooped up with you at the shop. Looking at you for too long, even now, was difficult for him. Anything, literally anything, would better than accidentally falling for you if you made him laugh one more time while stuck looking at you. He knows that what he’s about to do is dumb for him and his pact to himself, but he takes his coat off and hands it to you.

Your eyes widen at the gesture. “Tom, I can’t take that. I’d leave you cold, and I’d feel awful about it.”

For fuck’s sake, Tom thinks to himself. Everything you do is so soft and caring and considerate of him without you meaning to do so. He almost wishes you weren’t so easily likable. But your kindness... It’s like second nature to you. “If you don’t, you’ll freeze,” he says quietly.

You shrug, a pained smile crossing your face. You didn’t want to waste time by going home and grabbing something more weather appropriate. You knew Tom was busy whenever he wasn’t with you.

Tom groans. “Don’t act like it’s not a big deal. You can borrow my jumper.” He pulls the hoodie he was wearing underneath his coat over his head, handing it to you. It should be heavy enough to keep you warm, with the sweater you were already wearing, and the thin coat you had brought along.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Tom,” you say under your breath, but there’s a touch of playfulness in your tone.

He shrugs. “I’ll take the blame… But wait, why would I be the death of you, if you’re the one who forgot to dress warm enough?” Tom can’t help but laugh.

You pause, looking at him. “You know, you got me there, so maybe I’ll be the death of you,” and your lips pull into a slight cringe.

“Just put the damn jumper on, (Y/N),” Tom shook his head between a smile. Tom watches as you pull his hoodie on. You’re right. You will be the death of him. The jumper is a lot bigger on you than it was on him, and its sleeves pool over your hands and its hem settles mid thigh.

Yes, this is definitely a mistake, Tom thought to himself as you pull your coat on over his jumper. You looked adorable with the excess thick black fabric of his jumper overflowing over your hands and out the bottom of your coat. He liked the look of his clothing on you more than he ever could’ve imagined, and when you looked up to him to thank him, he wanted to turn and run in the direction of his apartment building, just out of pure confusion and fright from what he was feeling, but at the same time, he couldn’t; not because he didn’t want to look bad to you, but because he wanted to be around you. You looked goofy, but your sweet smile could evaporate the massive puddles of rain water lining the city streets. He’s at a loss for words, looking at you.

Tom never would’ve thought he’d let a girl borrow his clothing. It invited them to get closer to him... Gave them a reason to think that they meant something to him. To not lend his clothing to any girl for any reason at all, is a rule of his game he hadn’t broken since he started living the life he currently lives. His heart is flooded with his mixed feelings; so torn between wanting you to fall for him and needing to keep his distance. He had been catching your stares more and more often and your embarrassed smiles and flushed cheeks were the most endearing thing he’d ever seen and it was a good boost to his confidence. Being with you was peaceful and relaxing, unlike the turbulence he encountered in his everyday life as Tom Holland. But even though nothing you’ve done shows that you’ll disappear out of nowhere, putting his trust in you, or anyone for that matter, is terrifying. But for the first time in a really long time, he almost feels like he wants to belong with someone… That someone being you.

He realizes that he’s been staring at you, and you’ve been staring back the entire time, and he shakes his head.

“I look stupid, I know,” you laugh.

“It’s quite the opposite. Don’t worry, (Y/N),” Tom replies, looking away.

“Whatever you say.” You quip, and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and Tom slides a pair of sunglasses on as you both make your way down the sidewalk, between the bustling people. “So where to, Tom?” you ask.

“There’s a few places we can go to,” he replied. “But first, the grocery store.” Honestly, he wasn’t sure where to take you, but he’s seen several people go to the park just to feed ducks at the duck pond. He figured that would be enough.

“The grocery store?” you look at him, inquisitively.

“Mhm,” Tom nods.

“Any particular reason why?” you ask, trying to keep up with Tom’s long strided walk.

He makes a turn down into a street where the low profile bodega he usually frequented sat.

“Well yeah,” Tom says, a small shy smile tugging at his lips. “Ever fed ducks at the pond in the park?” He usually didn’t feel this bashful around women. It was weird.

A smile grows on your face. “Well yeah,” you imitate Tom’s tone. “But people usually don’t do that in this weather. What there aren’t any there?”

“We’re just going to have to hope we’re lucky,” Tom replies. He pulls the grocery store door open, allowing you in first. The door shut behind him as he followed you in, sealing the two of you in sudden warmth after walking in the cold and strange lighting from the fluorescent lights with the grey sunshine pouring in from the windows. He picks up a small can of instant oats for the ducks and a few snacks for himself. “Want anything?” he looks to you.

You pick up a bag of gummy bears and a rice krispy treat. “I got it, thank you anyway, Tom.”

He shakes his head. “Nope. This entire thing was my idea, so I provide the provisions,” he declares. He looks at your sugary snack selection. “Sweet tooth?” he asks.

“Maybe a little,” you admit.

He smiles. A sweet tooth to match your overly sweet personality. It’s only fitting. “Compromise? We’ll take turns with this treating the other deal, alright?” He reaches for your snacks.

“Fine,” you submit. “My turn next time, okay?”

“Done.” He replies.

You crack a stupid smile, pointing at the can of oats in his arms. “I guess you can say, oats a deal,” you bite your lip, trying not to laugh.

“You did not just say that,” he groans, but he can’t help but smile at your stupid pun. “That was the worst pun in history.”

“I believe I did,” you reply in a fit of giggles.

He shakes his head, unable to get rid of his own smile. “You’re not funny, (Y/N).”

“Oh come on, Tom. You oat-ta learn to take a joke,” you say, snorting when you can’t contain your laughter.

“Did you just snort?”

“Maybe I did!”

By now, Tom’s smile is fully plastered across his face. “You think you’re so hilarious.” If you weren’t laughing so hard at your own joke, Tom probably wouldn’t have laughed at all, but your laugh is contagious. A red flag goes up in his head, blaring his alarms. What made you happy, made him happy. This happiness is so new. It feels good, and he hits snooze on those alarms.

You snort again. “You’re right. I do.”

"I’m not confirming that or negating that statement,” he replies.

You raise your eyebrows. “Oh please. You know it’s hilarious. You wouldn’t be laughing right now if you didn’t.”

“That’s questionable.”

“You know it.”

“Okay, (Y/N),” Tom shakes his head, his cheeks aching from his massive 

He brings your items to the counter and pays. With your items in a plastic bag, you both make your way to the park, talking as you went. Despite your joking and light exchange at the bodega and only a week of knowing him, you knew your boundaries. Tom didn’t mention his work as an extra very often, his hometown or his family; when he did, he usually left out titles, places, and names, but today, you learned that he was one of four brothers, two of them being twins, two years younger, a youngest brother, being eight years younger than Tom.

“Your poor mother,” you joke.

He shrugs. “She kept us in line.”

He doesn’t say much about them after that, and you don’t press him for details. You feel like there’s more to the story that he’s withholding from you. He obviously still cares about his family. He speaks about them nostalgically, but they’re obviously not a part of his life at the present moment and you figure that when the time comes, and when he’s comfortable, he’ll tell you more. B you found you had more in common than you thought. You both find yourselves easily talking about your favorite music, TV shows, both of your theories on the universe, your strange obsession for instant ramen noodles, and who you think will win the World Cup coming up.

You basically covered a whole two days’ worth of topics on the walk to the park, without the random pauses that came with trying to cool and sip a hot drink. When you get there, you see that you’re in luck. Though the weather is quite honestly gross and pretty cold, the pond is occupied by fifteen or so ducks. Besides the few people who stream past you and the man playing a saxophone under a footbridge a little further up the path, evidently no one had the same idea Tom had for the day.

Tom unlooped the plastic bag’s handles from his wrist and hands you the small cardboard container of instant oats. “Would you like to do the first honor?” he asks, in a rather grandiose manner.

“Oh, why of course I would!” You tug the lid off the can and grab a small handful of oats and you toss it into the water for the ducks to snack at, and they come flocking. “So what made you think today would be a good day to feed ducks?” you ask out of the blue.

Tom isn’t facing you at that very moment, and he’s thanking whatever god is up there watching out for him. If he were looking at you, you’d be able to see clear as day that he was making up whatever he was gonna say. He didn’t think today would be a day for anything. But here he was. “I just thought a change in environment and routine would be a good thing, you know?” He repeats what he said back in the coffee shop.

“I guess,” you reply, tossing another handful of oats for the ducks.

You guess? Tom’s heart rate started to rise. “Um, there’s an art museum nearby and bunch of food carts. You know, for when we run out of oats. Or get hungry”

“What art museum?” You ask, intrigued.

“The Metropolitan Museum of Art, why?” he asks, he turns to look at you.

You shrug. “I’ve been meaning to go, but I haven’t yet.”

Tom finally brings his eyes to yours. “Wait, I thought you liked art and painting and stuff. Haven’t you lived in the city for a few years now?”

“Well, yeah… I guess I never found the time to go,” you shrug again.

“Would you want to go today?” Tom asked, putting his cold hands in his pockets to hide the fact that his hands were shaking from nerves.

Your eyes widen in surprise. “You want to go?”

Tom shrugs. “Yeah, if you want to.”

“Would it be bad if I kinda want to?”

“I offered it, so no,” Tom says with a smirk. “So yes?”

“Yes, you goof. Stop smirking at me,” you toss a handful of oats at him.

“Did you just throw oats at me?” Tom looks at you in amused disbelief.

You laugh. “They didn’t throw themselves did they?” Suddenly, all the ducks from the pond came flying out of the water and pecking at the ground surrounding Tom.

Tom grunts expletives under his breath, trying to avoid stepping on an unlucky duck. “You know, (Y/N), not trying to start my day covered in duck shit,” he says sassily but still wearing a smile.

You’re laughing the entire time. “I didn’t see that coming, I’m so sorry Tom!”

He shakes his head, dusting oat crumbs from his hands and coat. “I’ll get back at you. Don’t know how yet, but count on it.” He tries to make himself seem threatening, but he can’t stop smiling.

“Okay Tom, whatever you say,” you laugh, capping the container of oats and slipping it into your backpack. “So which way are we going?”

Tom points to your left. “Down that way to Fifth Avenue.”

“Have I mentioned how excited I am?”

“No, but I can tell, don’t worry,” Tom replies, smiling.

“How?” You challenge him.

He shrugs. “You have a bit more pep in your step. Your voice just pitched upwards.” Your excitement is adorable and one of your best qualities, he decides.

You both stroll along the side of the museum, looking out for the iconic Met steps and main entrance.

As you pass the fountains off to the side of the steps, you feel your excitement growing. “I feel like I’m in Gossip Girl or in some rom com,” you say happily, pulling your phone out of your coat pocket to take pictures of the museum’s massive entrance, completely mesmerized by the building’s facade and detailed architecture.

Your wonder is so refreshing to Tom. He was used to high snobbery that came with being a celebrity and being around people who thought it wasn’t cool to look enthused by anything. You’re literally a breath of fresh air to him, which in itself was ironic. While you were so refreshing to be around, you stole the air from his lungs. It was like being submerged in a submarine. He should trust that he’s safe within your walls, but at the same time, the weight and pressure of his past constantly threatened to crush him.

[floggingink]

Riverdale, “Chapter Twenty: Tales from the Darkside”

THIS ISN’T DOWN TO THE WIRE, KEVIN

I think most of the references this ep went over my head, as I am not a classic horror connoisseur, but I’m giving it the old college try

CHUCK AND HIS 18-INCH WAIST IS BACK!

Sixth period is Intro to Film: for starters, the opening text crawl is from the beginning of the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and they did this to placate Jughead, who has an amazing episode this week in that he fucking survives to the end of it

oh yeah, Betty got Mr. Phillips killed!

I like that in response to the circumstances Betty and Jughead have started sinning MORE

Jug’s snake tattoo has a little crown on it, because history will not be denied/he’s a dweeb

Jughead’s being very dutifully “You didn’t do anything wrong, etc.,” and Betty absolutely cuts him off like, “BUT HOW THE FUCK?”

he calls her “Poirot,” which is like Betty calling him a rebel without a cause

ah, the poster of which is by his bed! Jughead has a bedroom!!!! you’ve earned it, champ!

Sexy, aesthetic Southside: I don’t remember if Penny Peabody had crimped hair the last time she and Jughead met, but it’s straight outta 00’s Avril Lavigne and I love it

the Kentucky Derby blinders Jughead has for his father are Riverdale’s truest tragedy. FP is doing him so wrong

Jughead is going to be Penny’s “transportation advisor,” because he’s such a good driver

LOVED the Kill Bill typewriter “Archie & Jughead” titles

What damn high school in America: you know Jughead just totally skipped class and sauntered into Riverdale High in his fucking jacket. now that his English teacher is gone, what’s the fucking point? can he still run his paper?

Gay?!: Cheryl calls them Bert and Ernie as she shoves them aside like they were made of papier-mâché (Bert and Ernie are life partners)

I like Jughead’s sort of layered expression when he’s asking Archie for help/telling Archie he’s going to help him, like he’s slightly smiling when he talks about the Ghoulies “stunt”

Archie COMMENDABLY says NOTHING about the huge crate full of drugs (it’s not POSSIBLY full of drugs, or even pancake mix) he’s about to get his prints all over. Riverdale would never have them pick up a like a metal Law & Order box, it’s got to be like a fucking pirate chest

Archie & Jug in the truck was presh. Archie had a lot of Fred-esque lines, but I think he’s filtering his true fears about Jughead ENDING UP IN PRISON, WHICH IS WHERE HE IS HEADED, into father-speak, and Jughead, whose father blows, is like I DON’T KNOW, DAD, I’M LIVING MINUTE TO MINUTE HERE

—which is very traumatized, you know? like when you’re growing up, if you’re too hassled and anxious you get holes in your developing brain because it’s too focused on constantly being in fight-or-flight survival mode to the detriment of learning how to be a person? Jughead doesn’t have time for anything that isn’t literally getting to the end of today, possibly sleeping with Betty

I like how Archie’s fantasy does NOT include college, which he doesn’t care about

Jughead doubts it: GQ tells me the East Village is still around, Jughead

not even in his dreams does Archie imagine Veronica would NOT be living on Park Avenue

I like the possibility-thread of “Even worse than jail” being cut off by the flat

Jughead wants to call Betty, his fixer, but then they’re like, How about the sheriff’s son?

would Kevin even have helped them out? he’s not into the shady anymore! he’s post-Joaquin!

Jughead has grand movie-thoughts about his own persona but has not “played it cool” once in his life

OH GREAT, IT’S TONY TODD. IT’S THE FUCKING CANDYMAN. GREAT. GREAT. HOW THE FUCK. WHAT. THE FUCKING—WHAT????????

Jughead only has $18 and he carries it with him wherever he goes

Jughead RELEASES Archie from his friendship debt before getting into McGinty’s truck, because HE’S ABOUT TO DIE

“DON’T LOOK UNDER THAT TARP”

JUGHEAD TAKING HIS LAST LOOK AT ARCHIE IN THE REARVIEW

The Blossom spawn: when Tony Todd fucking invoked Jason fucking Blossom, on top of everything else, ON TOP OF EVERYTHING ELSE, I had a fucking myocardial infarction

McGinty throwing out the time warp phrase “for just a hot minute”

okay the lighting in the truck makes his eyes reflect these tiny pinpoints of white out of the beyond-the-grave voids of his eyes and that Judgement Day shit is on the radio and Jughead is like, this is too much atmosphere even for me

“IN THE BLACK OF THE HOOD IS THE LIGHT OF GOD, AND WHEN YOU SEE IT, YOU WILL DIE.” WHAT? WHAT???? WHAAAAATTTTT???????

and then Archie sees a zombie deer. he sees like a fawn with its fucking skin blistered off. he sees a fucking Chernobyl deer. walking precisely the line between Riverdale and Greendale. great. Greendale is full of ghosts. Jughead is in a death truck driven by the Riverdale Reaper’s sixth victim or something. GREAT. GREENDALE IS FULL OF GHOSTS! GREAT!

Jughead wears his watch face very rakishly on the inside of his wrist

for a hot second, I thought the flies were bees. I did think they were bees. I did think they were doing Candyman

BECAUSE IT’S FUCKING TONY TODD!!!!!!!

you know Jughead was going to look under the tarp. you fucking knew it. he’s in act two of a horror movie. he’s going to relay this story later and say he didn’t look under the tarp? what’s under the tarp? WHAT’S IN THE BOX

deer too dead even to still walk around

I’ve seen this like three times and I can’t tell you what the fuck he’s eating in that shitty cafe. steak? Jell-O? kitten flesh?

the way he says “I’m no thrill-seeking sicko,” sucking on the S’s

the single fly buzzing around McGinty’s shoulder as he tells the Reaper story was like a single further death omen and if it turned out Jughead was already a zombie like in that comic you know, I would’ve fucking bought it, fuck it, what the fuck

some people THINK a lynch mob got him? there was a RUMOR lynch mob? or there was DEFINITELY a lynch mob that only MIGHT HAVE lynched the right person??? I’M GONNA NEED SOME CLARIFICATION, POP TATE

California in my experience is exactly where you should be to pray to the devil

I loved how fast things went incredibly south in the diner. the thud of the check, McGinty saying Jughead would pay, Jughead beings like, Pardon me? Jughead about to be LEFT BEHIND

“YOU’RE SINNERS, BOTH OF YOU. CAREFUL OR YOU’LL TASTE THE REAPER’S BLADE NEXT.”

Archie > Dawson: Archie is, simultaneously, the worst and best person to have along with you inside a horror movie, because he’s sort of dense but also will never give you up, never let you down, desert you (if it’s a Good Archie episode, which this unmistakably is). Archie is the only character I would buy forgetting he was there and miraculously he shows back up in the nick of time

next we have Archie and Jughead driving around some more with the Friday the 13th echoing exhale sound effect in the background, just for funsies

Fifth period is AP English: Penny’s fucking Arctic exploration crate has all this HP Lovecraft motif lore on the side of it, so, cool, I guess it contains screaming desiccated souls or something (Lovecraftian Ghouls eat flesh, by the way)

“Damn good coffee”: aaaaaaaaand coming out to meet them is a Soviet spy wearing a beret, wheeled out by Karla, with an AK on his hip. Greendale contains the trapped spirits of everyone who died there in the 70’s

These students are legally children: Jughead is screwed. Jughead is so screwed. Jughead is one part vodka, two parts orange juice

Archie’s coloring lends itself well to being bathed in that pink Pop’s lighting I love

Jughead has recovered enough to call McGinty (who isn’t named aloud) “Mr. American Gothic”

JUGHEAD WANTS TO GO TO THE LIBRARY WITH ARCHIE. he doesn’t want to do drug runs. he wants to snoop around with his best friend, because despite having a gang in his bloodline, Jughead is REALLY not a gang member. when he gets to choose what he wants to do, he just wants to do research. he wants to be Giles, okay

endless tragedy with Archie’s “Next day, for sure.”

I would absolutely believe that Riverdale’s jail’s visiting hours are actually “sunup to sundown” as opposed to like “eight to four”

how precious is he, steeling himself to see his father’s slashed face

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

apparently Penny’s surveillance video has some sort of infrared lighting quality

I like how Penny specifies that Jughead is not to raise his voice to her, a classic scarier-than-violence threat

is this why FP was so freaked that Jughead would owe her? not because she’s naturally treacherous to everyone, but because he knows she wants recompense for his betrayal? FP, you’re awesome start to finish

Jughead has not done like a SINGLE THING WRONG this entire time that hasn’t been at the behest of him trying to FIX everything single thing that his father set him up for, dog

I do not deserve a whole segment dedicated to Josie and her white manicure, yet here I am!

Josie and the janitor have an understanding, because people who stick around school after hours are usually slightly strange and have to stick together

“I don’t need a bodyguard! I’m not Whitney. Yet.”

Certified pedigree: Mayor McCoy is another Scary Riverdale Mom, but I’d say she’s the least scary of them WRT her daughter (not the southsiders, although jury’s still out on how much of that is Alice’s fault)

Josie’s vocal polyps swell when she’s stressed

her denim one-piece? only you, Josie

Cheryl’s hair: Classic Disney princess hair this episode. Classic Cheryl. a Classic

Cheryl sums up Josie’s guilt as being about “sinning” which means therefore the Black Hood may notice, as opposed to something like “You feel like you’re betraying your friends,” which would be the human response

Chuck Clayton is thoroughly charming throughout. if you just watched him this episode, you’d be like, How bad could he really have been?

he came prepared with the knowledge that Josie “loves her cheese fries”

Chuck’s leather jacket is very nice. all the boys should just be wearing leather jackets

Josie is partaking of a “eucalyptus steam”

“Nick St. Creature”

Cheryl’s measured response to Josie calling her controlling was perfect. she says she’ll never be able to “repay” her “debt,” because Cheryl is ALL ABOUT tit-for-tat, emotional burdens handled via business deals, paying off favors, clearing her side of the column

I also like her Blossom pun

The 2001 Josie and the Pussycats movie was a masterpiece: VALERIE! MELODY! VALERIE’S SWEATER! MELODY’S SKIRT! VALERIE’S CURLS! MELODY’S AFRO! “WOMEN ARE SUPPOSED TO TREAT EACH OTHER BETTER THAN THIS.” “PRIDE COMETH BEFORE THE FALL.”

Fwoopy hair is the best hair: Melody is not happy but she is the goddess of my life and I hope she can sense that from this distance

why IS Josie doing the solo thing? she did claw them in the back!

ooh, he’s smooth. he’s smooth with the Pop’s thing. Chuck did that

Josie’s “YEAH MHM” nod when Chuck says he “doesn’t have the greatest track record” and rolls her eyes at him “going to church”

“Why? To objectify models?”

he wants to draw comics, because he is a creative? Chuck and Jughead and their leather jackets would have a great time at the library together, after they make up (with hugs)

did I say Archie looked good in the pink light? fucking Chuck and Josie look phenomenal

Pulp Fiction diner dancing!

I’ve seen Brick like thirty times: the two of them synchronized jitterbugging together, I did not have the patience to Google the name of the dance, like fully won me over. is Chuck good now? I’m fucking on Chuck’s list now. like is that all it took for me? I am a weak bitch

“YOU’RE A DAMNED FOOL.”

stay strong, Chuck! don’t fuck this up!

is Mayor McCoy lying on the spot about her hate mail mentioning Josie? just to scare her into compliance?

“Taking a few art classes does not a saint make.”

Cheryl’s sheaths: Cheryl’s wearing huge thick ankle-strap platforms again with a VERY leggy romper

okay shut up because Cheryl actually says “What’s in the box?” and Brad Pitt felt a little bit of his life force drain from his body

Gay.: What up with Cheryl’s game here? was she preemptively putting things in Josie’s locker on the off-chance she would need to get a rival presence out of Josie’s life? I would like a reason, but I don’t need one, because Cheryl is so beyond my mind to comprehend I take solace simply in basking in her wake. like, she found a pig’s heart? of course she did. of course you did, Cheryl

Cheryl’s a chaos angel from hell: “For all we know, he’s the one sending your mom those letters, too” is SUCH an overreach if Josie had had time to think about it for two seconds, but she does not have such two seconds, thus it is a master move by Cheryl Blossom

Chuck’s puppy eyes

Josie knows what she diiiiiiiiid!

THEY GOT ME FOR THE SECOND TIME! GODDAMMIT!

nicely specific throat-slashing, right in the polyps

I’m writing a scene where it’s gay.: Cheryl is listening to Josie sing as she draws, in the greatest reveal in television history (at least since “You’ve done a bad thing, Daddy,” which feels like it happened fifty-eight years ago) (is this actually gay? am I being #blessed with Gothic lesbian villainy?)

Every triangle has three corners, every triangle has three sides: Betty and Jughead literally sleeping together I WOULD ASSUME means they’re having sex except I’m like 0-4 on this stuff, I’m not taking anything as a given

Best costume bit: Betty’s flower decal sweater

VERONICA: How’s he been dealing with it? BETTY: WHAT’S HE BEEN DOING?

Veronica’s tiny poofy magenta skirt and EXTREMELY high heels

“Poor Kevin. He’s like a character in a lost Tennessee Williams play.” (Archie does not know Tennessee Williams)

Sheriff Keller is REMARKABLY forthcoming, in that I think he assumes Betty is going to dig around until she’s found this stuff out anyway, so he may as well show her the ACTUAL EVIDENCE PHOTOS now

Kevin is a cashmere-besweatered angel who plays RPG’s and drinks milk

dare I spy a Tarantino split-screen?

The female gaze: Tom Keller is jacked and this just complicates everything

the extent to which Veronica can be read as absolutely hitting on him while actually prying him for information while ostensibly offering comfort is a tribute to Camilla Mendes, James DeWille, 60,000 years of human speech

the animal targets on the wall as like, art?

aw, Kev took the floor. honestly thought he might have a bunk bed for like, his bears

God bless jingle-jangle: can you imagine having it in your obituary that you were “a jingle-jangle addict”? can someone finagle this for mine? is this blog a legal document?

50 Shades of Betty: I love how off the rails, if you will, Betty is this episode. she’s lost the forest for the trees a bit and it’s GREAT. she’s such a fucking oddball. Lili Reinhart’s massive eyes are like laserbeams of manic certainty

Summer + Blair = Veronica: Veronica is the only person with sense this entire episode. like what would it have been like if it was Veronica and Jughead in the first part? and Archie seeing Josie get a pig’s heart! AND CHERYL IN SHERIFF KELLER’S MAN-SWEAT BASEMENT

it appears the singing bass salesman made a stop at the Kellers’ after he hit up FP Jones

Please protect Betty: Betty’s expression of defiant stoicism throughout her father’s apology on her behalf and Keller explaining himself even further

“Where-oh-where do you think you’re going, Sheriff?” TO LIVE HIS LIFE, BETTY?

he is wearing a very Black Hood outfit of the leather jacket (!) over a flannel with jeans

love the split-second shot of the camera flash

Veronica was rich: of course Veronica’s in like thigh-high boots or whatever

OOOOOOOOHHH HE’S DOING THAAAAAAAT WITH HEEEERRRRRRR!

Veronica was 1) correct and 2) says “broment”

Pop keeps delicate teacups around for “fancy” orders

Cheryl’s structured red coat!

can you believe Jughead left BEFORE Pop got that phone call?

THE RECKONING, Y’ALL, IT’S HERE! MAYBE ONE SINGLE MORE PERSON WILL DIE!

NEXT WEEK TWENTY HOURS FROM NOW: Cheryl makes FP clean up a milkshake, and I enjoy this very special purchase

[riverdaleroundup]

Riverdale Roundup: 2x07 “ Tales From The Dark Side”

Here we are! Back at it again with the poorly spelled bitch seshes.

Okay so we open up with this artsy ass SVU esque true crime docu series news bulletin and i’m just like why? Why are we doing this? This is very that one episode of Grey's anatomy after the shooting when it was like a reality tv special about the hospital.

Okay anyway BH is like “ Okay you little trolls here's the deal. If you don’t sin for 48 hours I won’t murder all of you. Sound good?” but because this is riverdale everyone goes on with their sin filled lives like normal. Like here’s an idea, why don’t you all just take a long weekend, hang out at home with the shades drawn and watch some tv? But no everyone feels the need to do a little extra sinning because why not. It’s not like their lives are on the line or anything.

Archie and Jughead:

Betty and Jughead are all cuddled up in bed together and Betty is wearing his S shirt. But what Betty doesn’t know is that freaking Toni Topaz was lounging in that same shirt like 20 minutes ago when Jughead was getting it on with her…..so like drama. Philandering and Lying to your girlfriend? SIN.

Jughead talking to Penny Peabody even tho FP told him not to: Disobeying thy parents. SIN. Like he picks up the phone and it’s her. Hang up bitch! Don’t go get pancakes. Freak. UGH. Being a dumb little bitch: SIN. Okay so Penny is like “ your dad got jumped in the showers” and I watch so much SVU that i’m immediately like “ they’re going to talk about someone being sodomized on the CW? Holy shit.” but like they just hit him so like that’s a little more on brand.

Penny is like “ we need money” and Jughead is like “ sick I have 18 dollars’ and i’m like it’s so sad how relatable that is. So Penny is going to hook him up with a casual drug running job and i’m just like SIN.

Okay so Jughead needs to borrow Archies dad’s truck so he run some casual drugs and i’m like okay you still don’t have licenses and you still can’t drive but whatever. Jughead is like “ you owe me archie because you ruined my street race.” so now Archie has to help. They get this crate from a storage container (SIN) and they’re off. Archie is like “ Okay how much longer are you going to be a serpent” and Jughead is like “ you dumb bitch tattoos don’t just fall off after three months.”  Archie basically proposes to Jughead talking about how he has his fantasy of them being roommates in New York  and Jughead is a writer and Archie is a musician and i’m like okay so this really is going to become like RENT? Like in his 15 year old mind he thinks that straight out of high school they are all just going to move out to NYC together and get amazing jobs sans college degrees and live happily ever after. He’s watched too many episodes of Friends. They proceed to get a flat tire because of course they do. They have no spare because they are 15 and ill prepared. Archie wants to call triple C which is the cheap version of triple A and Jughead is like nah we are hauling drugs, like the tow truck is going to search their vehicle? Jug wants to call his boo Betty but Archie doesn’t want to get her mixed up in the drug trade and i’m like she’s just bringing you a tire not strapping a pound of jingle jangle to her person and going through TSA.  This creepy ass guy comes along and is like y’all need a ride and i’m like DO NOT GO WITH THIS MAN YOU STUPID IDIOTS. But of course Jughead goes with this creepy guy who tells him not to look under his tarp and i’m like okay, you dumb idiot. Don’t do this. Jughead leaves archie on the side of the road and goes willingly with a creepy stranger. Being a dumb idiot and getting in the car with a scary stranger: SIN.

So the people of god think that the Black Hood is basically Jesus 2.0 and that he’s coming to rid the world of sin. So like Yikes. Archie sees a fucked up deer and then Jughead looks under the tarp and finds a dead deer and i’m like Oh dear.  So the creepy ass man tells Jughead the story of the Riverdale Reaper who murdered this whole family and i’m like okay Jughead and Betty do all this freaking research about the murders and they never once heard of this? Did Alice Cooper tear that out of all the papers too? So this guy tries to stiff Jughead with the cheque and he’s like “ bro I already gave you my 18 dollars” but this guy doesn’t give a single fuck. He’s bouncing and he’s taking the drug crate with him.

Thankfully Archiekins rolls up and is ready to make it rain but only if they accept debit. Riverdale has never been so self aware. Like finally Archie is acting like an actual fifteen year old and using his debit card which is probably connected to his dad’s account so that Fred can monitor where Archie is spending his allowance.

Okay why can we not be in greendale after midnight? Is it because Sabrina the Teenage Witch is going to be out and doing spooky magic?

They roll up to the drop off site and are greeted by these creepy Russian gangsters which is just so convenient. Turns out Jughead is going to be their new little brug mule so he better get his ish together.

Jughead goes to visit FP and see’s that Daddy is fine and has not been jumped so like what the fuck Penny? Jughead goes to confront Penny and she’s like “listen up you little troll I own you now so like get the fuck used to it. You’re daddy like broke my heart or like didn’t give me a ride to the airport when he said he would so now I H8 you.”  So like yikes.

Josie

When her names flashes up on the screen i’m like really? There’s a whole section just for her? Like I thought they just brought her in when they needed an upbeat musical number. She hangs around school late into the night so she can play the piano and i’m like do you not have one of those at home? Your Dad is like some big deal musician so like shouldn’t you have a piano? Can you not use an app on your ipad and play on that.

So the Mayor has moved them into a hotel because that’s going to be safer and i’m like okay??? Josie has to be back in the room by dark but like it’s winter so isn’t it dark by like 3pm? Does she have to skip the last period of school to make it home on time?

Both Josie and Cheryl look like they waltzed out of the 1970’s in their jumpsuits and heavily embellished tops. Josie is getting recruited to be a solo act so like bye bye pussy cats. She keeps getting creepy gifts in her locker and like in what world would a note that says “ i’m watching you be romantic?” Those are clearly not cute gifts but rather creepy little gestures that say I WANT TO MURDER YOU.

Chuck rolls up and asks Josie out and at first she’s all like “ ew no” and i’m like “ ew no” because he’s like gross and creepy and an asshole but by the end of the episode i’m like “ omg i love chuck. I don’t even know.”  Josie asks if he’s putting stuff in her locker and he’s like “ I can be” which is not a yes so I don’t know why she takes it as a yes like ummm excuse me???? Josie goes to take a steam at the school and i’m like what kind of school has a steam room? Valarie and the other pussy cat whose name I do not know come and confront Josie about going solo which is very much like when the Cheetah Girls were in Barcelona and Adrienne Bailon was going to ditch the group to sing with that spanish girl and everyone got really pissed about it.

Josie runs into Chuck in the hallway and she’s like “ Thank god you're not a murderer, now drive me home.” and he’s like “ okay but first let's get french fries and fall in love.”  Okay so don’t get me wrong i’m suddenly very team Chuck like out of the blue but what the heck happened to Reggie? They were like kind of hyping up a Josie Reggie thing like 20 minutes ago and now this? Whatever, Archie had like 67 love interests last season.

So Chuck talks about being a changed man and Pop is like “ ahh yes Chuck goes to my church. He is a man of god.” and i’m like okay did you pay him to say that Chuck? And Josie is thinking the same thing but like Chuck says he’s not that prepared. They then proceed to dance the night away and honestly they are not bad dancers but it’s just so random. Then the Mayor burst in and is like “  girl check your phone once in awhile” and then tells Josie to never speak to chuck again. It’s gearing up to be very Romeo and Juliet. Anyone up for a forbidden romance? The Mayor tells Josie about all these letters she’s been getting from these creeps and i’m like hot damn that's aggressive.

Cheryl is not team Chuck and makes that clear. Josie gets this creepy drawing and a box with a heart in it and I CALLED THAT I FUCKING CALLED IT BEING A HEART.

“ Out of the way Bert and Ernie” is so fucking Iconic.

Okay the janitor is around way too much to not have to do with something so like…..what’s the truth Mr. Spenceon?

Okay josie has a dream about dying and I honestly thought it actually happened and I was not pissed soooooo.  Then we see Cheryl drawing this creepy ass drawing of Josie and like omg Cheryl you little liar. But I mean she just wants to keep her best friend to herself so like...I get it. Don’t think I wouldn’t do this Brittney.

Betty & Veronica

Okay so Kevin is worried about his dad because there is a killer on the prowl and the Sheriff has gotta catch him. Betty and Veronica both think they know what’s going on. Betty is like “ he’s def the killer” and Veronica is like “ he’s def having an affair” and then they look at each other like they’re both dumb bitches.  Betty is a little too wrapped up in this mystery and thinks that literally everyone in this town who is male and above the age of 45 is the killer. She’s like “ Mr Phillips was killed in the police station soooo…” but literally 4 episodes ago Jughead was like “ okay anyone could break into the police station it’s so easy let's rescue my dad and send him to Canada.”

Veronica invites herself over to Kevin's house for a sleepover like an entitled bitch so that she can go snooping to figure out if the Sheriff is gettin it on with someone. Betty literally rolls up to the police station and is like “ What’s good Sheriff Keller. How the hell did BH get into the police station” and the Sheriff just shows her all this evidence and i’m like in what world would the HBIC of Riverdale Police just show all his evidence to this 15 year old girl?

So Veronica and Kevin are playing like Dungeons and Dragons or Mall Madness or something in his bedroom and Veronica is trying very hard not to slit her own wrists out of boredom. Again being entitled she decides to go get herself a drink but is actually just going to snoop around Sheriff Keller's underwear drawer or something. She calls Betty for advice and Betty is offended that she didn’t get an invite to the sleepover and i’m like same.

Veronica goes down to the basement and Sheriff Keller is pumping iron and looking very DILFy today. He and Veronica just hang out by the soda fridge for a while and we find out that Kevin's mom is in the army and i’m like ohhh she isn’t just skipping town like Jugheads mom and never looking back. Veronica is vibing with the Sheriff and honestly like wants him. Looks like Hiram isn’t the only one she’ll be calling Daddy (b) . But she doesn’t get any good info about if he is literally a mass murder or if he’s like fucking some random mom from the PTA. However if Veronica turns out to be wrong about him having an affair she would be more than willing to start one up #daddyissues.

Veronica see’s him sneaking out of his house and i’m like bitch it isn’t called sneaking out if you’re a literal adult and you own the property. He’s just leaving. Maybe he had a craving for some peanuts you don’t know.

Betty is grasping at straws to make Keller the killer and Veronica is defending her man to the end. Betty knows that the sheriff is hiding hiding something but Veronica knows that the only thing he’s hiding is a hot bod (b).  Betty breaks into the Keller house (SIN) and starts going through his personal property. She finds a murder board and is like “Omg proof that he’s the killer!” and I’m like “ Or maybe he’s the literally chief of police who has to solve the murders” like we’ve seen him make murder boards before. The sheriff rolls back up and is like “ Wtf Betty what are you doing in here?”

So Betty brings her good for nothing father to the police station to talk to Keller and he lays down all the evidence to show that he’s innocent. Betty and Veronica follow the sheriff and find out that he’s gettin it in with the Mayor at some sleeze motel (SIN) and i’m like how many hotel rooms does she have? Veronica is heartbroken. Clearly.  Veronica and Betty decide to keep this a secret and lie to Kevin ( SIN) Cheryl is like poisoning Josie with that tea (SIN).

Pop is the new Betty and gets a call from the Black Hood. BH knows that they have all been sinning aggressively and he’s coming to mirder them. So yikes.

Honestly everyone is sinning all over the place do I don’t know what these bitches expected?? They all wear polyester and I bet somewhere someone is eating shellfish. Also Moose wasn’t in this episode so….SIN.

[obstinaterixatrix]

Hey as someone who wants to know more about Kamen Rider, cause I see it all the time, how does one get into it, like where to start

Oh! Each series is basically self contained, so you can start from literally any series based on the vibe you want. 

For background, Kamen Rider is a long-running Japanese superhero franchise made of multiple series that features a masked hero with a motorcycle (kamen - mask, rider - rider; the motorcycle isn’t usually emphasized per se, but iirc that’s the origin of the name and it’s why Literally Every Rider Will Have A Motorcycle). Each series features a different main character, setting, and plot, with fairly minimal references to other series except for crossover events.

I can’t say much about stuff I haven’t watched, but here’s a rundown of the riders I’ve seen so far in the order I’ve watched them in:

Fourze

space friendship! My favorite series! This is probably the most lighthearted of the riders, and it features a friendship delinquent - gentaro - whose goal is to make even more friends. And he does! And they’re all great! It takes place in a parody of american high school. The soundtrack is very space synth.

W (also called ‘Double’)

hardboiled detective noir! Except it’s more ‘softboiled’ - as tryhard as shoutaro is, he just cares too much about people to do the stoic and cool thing, and he tends to get carried away trying to maintain his (nonexistent) image. He’s tempered by his partner phillip, who’s a hyperfocus weirdo that basically contains the knowledge of everything in the universe as long as he has the right keywords to look up. Both of them make one rider. It’s like pacific rim, except the jaeger is a guy. This is more of the traditional kamen rider atmosphere, I think, because people die more. Also some of these mysteries have legit good twists. Also Akiko is there, she’s unapologetically loud, sometimes she gets pissed and whacks monsters with her slipper, I love her. Very jazzy ost. Also, the ‘previously on’ section is like…. really well formatted!

OOO (pronounced oh-z)

ok so one of my mutuals (the one who got me into fourze) tags this series as ‘weekend at bernies bird edition’ and that’s…. pretty accurate. eiji is a drifter with a good heart who gets wrapped up babysitting this ancient entity named ankh that possessed a guy on the brink of death. Also fighting the manifestation of people’s greed. ankh is what’s keeping the guy alive, but he has his own agenda, and also the almost-dead-guy’s sister - hina - gets herself involved. this series has a lighthearted tone, but kind of a morose vibe, if that makes sense. Gotou has one of my favorite character arcs!

Build 

the current series! It’s not done so I can’t say much about it, but the main character is a physicist, probably, but he doesn’t know because he has amnesia. I’m not really sure what’s going on because most rider series take place in japan, but this series takes place in japan, but after something that was brought from mars catastrophically separates japan into three distinct city-states on account of the giant glowing wall borders that happened. There’s a lot of emphasis on like…. human experimentation, which is looping into a ‘DONT FUCKING TRUST THE GOVERNMENT’ vibe, which honestly, mood.

it’s done now so I’m gonna say: I love build. sento & banjo can’t go too long without having a heartfelt monologue & montage about how much they mean to each other and that’s valid.

Ghost

starts off with takeru dying on his 18th birthday! the protag uses ghosts of ‘heroes’ - major historical/folklore figures including houdini, robin hood, goemon, etc. - to fight against other ghosts. the ensemble cast is mostly used as comedy relief, but there are poignant moments of development and pathos - Alain’s character arc is very well written. imo it’s one of the weaker series plot/writing-wise, but it’s a lot of fun! 

Wizard

I put it around Ghost-level writing. Overall I find it tepid, yet enjoyable; it definitely does pick up in the latter half of the series. Also, Wizard has like……. my number one favorite character. The premise is that Haruto, a wizard, goes around saving people from despair so that they don’t turn into phantoms (because when phantoms take over a host, the host dies). Honestly…. I can’t say any more…… I just want to talk about Nitou…… he’s the secondary rider who shows up about 20 episodes in and he’s a showboating dumbass. I love him.

Gaim

I hate it!

Den-O

time demon tries to make a contract with an endearing guy who just so happens to be the unluckiest most hapless rube that exists. sara’s tag for den-o is something like ‘four demons and their timeshare dweeb’ and that’s basically the best description for the show. it’s fun! it’s really fun! it’s just a really funny show with incredible comedic shenanigans super strong characters, and when it hits those serious moments, it hits hard. the time travel doesn’t always make sense and there’s a bit of surprising writing choices because one of the actresses had to drop out, but if you’re prepared to Let Den-O Into Your Heart… You Won’t Regret It

Drive

cop show about fighting against robots. I don’t think the writing’s good, but drive has like… some of the best comedy in kamen rider, plus some of the best weapon designs. there’s also some really good characters in drive (like Chase) but the writing’s just… not good to women or robots. I wouldn’t un-watch it; when drive’s good it’s good! but when it’s bad it’s. bad.

Ex-Aid

kamen rider doctor gamer. exaid’s a mess, but after the first few episodes it turns into a pretty fun mess imo. for the first five episodes, each episode feels like it should be three times longer than they actually are, but when it hits its stride it’s just… pretty cool! they’re doctors. they’re gamers. someone tries to become god. there’s something about the ending that really ticks me off, but overall I enjoyed myself a lot - there’s a bunch of solid faves in the exaid cast. 

WITH THAT BEING OUTLINED, the only thing that gets confusing, imo, is when it comes to movies. If I remember right, this is how it goes:

-new kamen rider is introduced in the last movie of the previous rider’s series; just establishing look & mechanics, not necessary to watch, just go ahead and start the series instead of watching this

-crossover movie with previous riders - happens early-ish in the series around the 15th ep, time is generally split evenly between the riders with independent-yet-interconnected plots; you can basically skip to the rider you’re interested

-sometimes a crossover movie with the concurrent sentai series; more emphasis is put on sentai, I think??? takes place around ep 25????

-FEATURE FILM ABOUT THE RIDER STARING THE RIDER FEATURING THE RIDER which happens around ep 45 - also introduces next rider as a cameo, iirc???

-other crossover movies that happen after the series

SO YEAH, LOTS OF MOVIES. you can basically watch ‘em at your discretion.

One more note: since Kamen Rider’s been going on for like, almost 50 years, there’s a bunch of series & they’re broken down into 3 sections - showa (the really old), heisei phase 1 (2000s era), and heisei phase 2 (current stuff, but I think this phase is ending soon?). The first three shows I’ve talked about are the first three shows of heisei 2, SO IF YOU WOULD RATHER GO BY ORDER OR SMTH, you can go W, OOO, Fourze, and continue on with heisei 2 (also known as neo-heisei) if you want. If you want more info on heisei 1 or showa, there’s def people out there who know way more than me!

[thepilgrimgeek]

Unintended Symbols: Minor Spoilers for Joker (Part the First)

It's Academy Award season! The nominations are announced! Between now and February 9, ThePilgrimGeek is going full Blockbuster clearance shelf with Minor Spoilers! What made me laugh? What made me cry? What were the films that stuck in my noggin for days? Here's the first of Minor Spoilers at the Academy Awards! Todd Phillips' Joker has been nominated for 11 Academy Awards, including Best Picture. For a director who’s works include The Hangover and its sequels, as well as Starsky & Hutch, it is an astounding and captivating change of form. The cinematography and writing is on point, and Jaoquin Phoenix easily delivers one of the best performances of his career. Joker, in most regards, is a well-crafted film.  Yet, my response to Joker was a cocktail of curiosity, confusion, and more than a dash of despair. I walked out of the theater mulling over all I had watched, a telltale sign that this movie was worth the ticket and that perhaps the haunting sensation that followed me required my attention and prayerful engagement. In doing so I resolved that the only appropriate way to discuss Joker is in two separate Minor Spoiler reviews.  This first installment reflects the part of me that is more generous with the film and what I think may be Philips’ commentary specifically about the Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight Trilogy and its cultural impact. The second part will approach the character of The Joker both in Joker and in the comic book canon of the DC Universe through a broader theological lens. With no further ado, here is my first of two Joker reviews : Unintended Symbols: Minor Spoilers for Joker I wonder what Joker would look like if there had never been Nolan’s The Dark Knight Trilogy. I even wonder if such a movie would exist if Christian Bale had never faced off with a painted Heath Ledger or a masked Tom Hardy a decade ago. 

Christopher Nolan weaves one thematic thread throughout his trilogy: what does it take to create a symbol? From the first moment Bale’s Bruce Wayne conceives Batman, he has one aim. He tells Alfred “I want to be a symbol.” Becoming a symbol to the rest of Gotham City is Wayne’s endgame from the outset. He wants to inspire the citizens of Gotham to have no tolerance for the corruption and villainy of the city’s crime soaked streets and bought-and-paid for bureaucrats and politicians. Wayne continually questions whether or not the symbol is having the resonance for which he is striving. In one of the more humorous moments of The Dark Knight, Batman encounters copycat vigilantes with firearms trying to thwart the schemes of an escaped Scarecrow. Batman reprimands them with his fists and words. They accuse Batman with “What’s the difference between you and me?” The Caped Crusader responds “I’m not wearing hockey pads.” This is more than a mere comment about equipment. This is an indictment about the copycats’ methods under the symbol of Batman. This is revisited in the trilogy’s final installment The Dark Knight Rises. While Batman strove to emphasize what differentiates him from former mentor Ras al’Ghul in Batman Begins, he is now face-to-face with Bane, who calls his whole endeavor into question. If what Batman desired was to be a symbol to mobilize the masses for change, then the Dark Knight was not radical enough. Following Bane’s defeat, the symbol of Batman is passed on to a new Batman in the person of Blake. Batman as a symbol that inspires and mobilizes is at the center of Nolan’s take on the Batman mythos. And yet, the second installment, The Dark Knight, saw pop culture latch on to a different symbol…

In 2007, Warner Bros. embarked on a viral internet marketing strategy in the months leading up to The Dark Knight's release. This included a mock campaign site for Harvey Dent and a "vandalized" duplicate site in which fan emails revealed (pixel by pixel) the first look at Ledger’s Joker, and multiple scavenger hunts launched via the website WhySoSerious.com that led to more Joker images and a teaser trailer. These and other viral strategies put the enigmatic image of the Joker, and his line “Why so serious?” further into the pop culture ether. This strategy was adjusted and refocused on Harvey Dent (Two-Face) following Ledger’s untimely death prior to the film’s release. Despite this transition in marketing, the iconography of The Joker became far more associated with The Dark Knight, perhaps even more so than Batman himself. Even a decade later in 2019, despite having the introduction of two more silver screen Jokers, Halloween brought more kiddos and adolescents in the guise of Ledger’s Joker asking for candy, rather than that of Jared Leto or Jaoquin Phoenix. Undoubtedly, Nolan and Ledger created a definitive symbol of the Joker that has persevered. The pop-culture obsession with the Joker was ignited in 2008. Between the viral marketing of Warner Bros, and Ledger’s iconic performance (which eclipses Bale’s Batman), the real symbol to rise was from The Dark Knight was not the virtuous Batman, but the chaos-relishing Joker.

In light of the pop-culture impact made by TDK, I think it is more than coincidence that in Todd Philip’s film, Arthur Fleck’s murder of three drunken, abusive frat boys while in clown makeup take on in-movie cultural significance. In Joker, the image of the clown becomes the icon under which the disenfranchised of Gotham unite. The image’s power is only fueled by the rhetoric of the city’s elite, namely the Caped Crusader’s own father, Thomas Wayne, who uses "clown" as pejoratively in reference to those praising the mystery murderer. And it is under the icon of the Joker that society breaks out into chaos. In the film’s climax, Arthur Fleck (painted and garbed in what is recognizably the figure of Batman’s arch nemesis, insists to Robert DeNiro’s Johnny Carson-esque late night host that he never meant to be political. Any association between him and the growing symbolism of the clown, he claims, has little to do with him. However, he then goes into an extended socio-political speech that culminates in him killing the late night host. It is the moment that literally sets Gotham on fire as the masses don clown masks and paint, rioting through the city. For a character who does not desire to be a symbol for the politically disenfranchised, he rages against all that the forces that (insofar as Fleck is an unreliable narrator) seem to be oppressing the downtrodden of Gotham.

Fleck has many moments where he basks in the presence of the symbol, grinning at flyers of killer clowns and looking gleeful over news headlines. The film’s near final moments sees the Joker dancing on the hood of a wrecked police cruiser while chaos reigns around him. He is basking in the madness. So the questions remains: what does Arthur Fleck’s Joker stand for? What is Todd Philips’ portraying? At best, maybe Philips is portraying why the iconography that grew around Ledger’s Joker following The Dark Knight is an empty one, offering not hope but only chaos. Maybe we are asked to look at Arthur Fleck, to paraphrase Michael Cain’s Alfred Pennyworth, literally watching the world burn and dancing in the fire light, and ask: what good is there in the cultural popularity and idolization of the Joker?

If Phillips is attempting to draw out this question in a sort of satire of the The Dark Knight's Joker, then we should ask if Philips does this well. If at any point the chaos and violence that Fleck incites (from whatever motivation) is justified or even glorified in its portrayal, then Philips has failed. A satire done poorly is no satire at all, but instead becomes the very object that is meant to be satirized. Maybe Philips has only added to the cultural iconography of the Joker. I think that Tasha Robinson, writing for the Verge, is correct in the assessment that “Phillips suggests in the end that everything he went through was necessary to bring him the power and recognition he deserves. It’s a tempting fantasy, crafted with utter conviction.”  Phillips' satire fails, if that was ever his intent. But perhaps the Clown Prince of Crime is not a force to be satirized. Perhaps any time the Joker becomes a symbol, or is transformed into an icon, there is only one result: the celebration of violent chaos. Perhaps he is not, and was never meant to be, a symbol on par with Batman.  Unless Todd Philips understands that too… but let’s cross that bridge to Gotham next week. Read the full article

[breakfastatmilliways]

I Found the Cure to Growing Older 2/?

Summary: Dan died. Phil thought that might perhaps be the worst of his problems - after all, what could be worse than losing your best friend?

Turns out, it was the zombie apocalypse.

When that’s all said and done, as much as an apocalypse can be said and done, he gets a phone call. 

Previous Chapter - Also posted on AO3.

Chapter 2

9 February, 2017

It might have taken a few months for the rest of the universe to catch up, but Phil’s personal world had come crashing down around him on what should have been an entirely uneventful Monday evening.

Looking back on it later, he should have realized that something had gone wrong well before he got what would be the worst phone call in his life. Unfortunately, he’d gone from aimlessly browsing twitter to falling into a cat video hole, and there were few better ways to lose track of the time. It was only when his phone went off to a call from an unknown number that he noticed the late hour, and it occurred to him that four hours was a bit long for a simple Tesco’s run.

He had a sudden feeling, deep in his gut, that he really didn’t want to answer his phone. He did it anyway.

“Hello?”

“Hello. Is this a Mr… Phillip Lester?” The woman on the other end of the line didn’t sound unkind, really, but there was a tired sort of professionalism to her voice that immediately had Phil on edge.

“Yeah. That’s me.” He replied, a bit hoarse, because any hint of moisture had seen fit to vanish from his mouth.  That pit of dread that was forming in his stomach only seemed to grow as the woman explained that she was from their local A&E, and that he was listed as emergency contact in a Mr. Daniel Howell’s medical records.

“What happened? Is he alright? I’ll be there as soon as possible, just let me-” Phil didn’t get to finish this sudden bit of blabbering, as the woman, who had introduced herself as Doreen, hushed him gently.

“I’m very sorry, Mr. Lester, but we can’t seem to find any records of what exactly your relationship is to Mr. Howell. Are you family?” She asked, some of that professionalism fading in favour of genuine caring. Phil would probably have admired her ability to adjust for a client’s needs if he wasn’t too busy trying not to have a panic attack. He got to his feet and started pacing, pushing his hair up into a quiff and tangling his fingers into it, almost painfully. The light stinging was helping to keep him somewhat grounded.

“No. I’m just… a friend.” He said, sounding a bit like a little boy to his own ears.

“Do you have a contact number for next of kin? Parents? Siblings?” Doreen sounded sympathetic, but it really wasn’t making Phil feel any better.

“Yeah, I um, I’ve got his mum’s mobile.” He pulled the phone away from his ear momentarily to look through his contacts for the right number, although it took him a while, because he was more than a bit shaky. His pacing had eventually brought him to the kitchen, and he leaned against the counter to steady himself as he read off the number for Doreen. As soon as he’d finished, he took a deep breath before speaking again. “Please, just… what happened? Is he okay?”

It took Doreen several seconds to answer, and when she did, she at least had the decency to sound genuinely apologetic. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lester. We can’t reveal that information to anyone who isn’t immediate family. I appreciate your help, and I’ll be certain to let Mr. Howell’s mum know that you’re waiting for an update once I speak to her.”

Phil must have said something in response to this before hanging up, but he couldn’t remember what it was. He just stood there, half of his weight rested against the kitchen counter, and stared at the wall as he tried to process what this meant. He knew, at least, that it was serious. The staff would surely have been able to tell him what was wrong if Dan had been in any condition to give his permission.

He wasn’t sure how long he simply stood there, staring blankly, before his phone went off again, and he looked down to recognize that it was Dan’s mother on the line. As if on autopilot, he answered it and lifted it to his ear, murmuring a greeting.

The only thing Phil got in response was hysterical sobs, and he didn’t need any more explanation than that to get the gist of what had happened. His legs decided that they didn’t really want to support his weight anymore, and he slid down the front of the counter to sit on the ground. He figured then and there that he wasn’t particularly ready for the details.

He at least managed to hang up the phone before being sick on the floor.

***

30 January, 2021

Phil couldn’t quite decide if this was the best or worst birthday he’d had in recent memory. On one hand, the prospect of literally having his best friend back from the grave was without a doubt the greatest gift anyone could ever have. On the other, beyond riding the bus to the train station in Manchester twelve years before, he couldn’t remember a time in his life that he had been quite this nervous.

He had readily agreed to having Dan move back into the flat, but he hadn’t quite expected for it to happen so quickly. The Howells had gotten straight to planning the moment he had given his okay, though, and so he found himself sitting at the bottom of the stairs with his phone in hand, not wanting to wait outside, but too nervous to just wait up in the flat proper.

He didn’t know what to expect. He’d heard stories, and he had even met a few PDS sufferers in his time at his parents’ home. The neighbor, an elderly man, had brought his wife home from one of the treatment centers, and Phil’s parents, being the warm people that they were, had invited both of them over as a show of good faith.

She had seemed pleasant enough to him, but it wasn’t as though he had known her in life, beyond occasionally getting a glimpse of her gardening during his relatively infrequent visits to the family home. He couldn’t compare her now to the way she had been when she had been alive, not really.

Phil had yet to meet someone he had actually known, and this was the one person he had probably known better than he knew himself. Of course he was nervous.

He was pulled out of his reverie by his phone going off, and he jumped to his feet as soon as he glanced at it before heading outside to the street corner. The sight of a large van awaited him, and he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans to prevent himself from awkwardly wringing his fingers together.

A stranger emerged from the front passenger's seat, heading around the front of the van toward Phil and forcing him to take one of his hands out of his pockets in order to shake the man’s hand when it was offered.

“Phil, I presume? Name’s John. I’m here to give you a few pointers and walk you through the administration of neurotryptilin.” John’s handshake was a bit too firm, and he seemed a little bit too cheery, but Phil didn’t complain. He was busy looking over John’s shoulder at the back door of the van, which had just opened up.

Dan’s face was mostly hidden by the fact that he had a hood up and pulled down low over his forehead, but Phil would have recognized the tall figure that emerged from the back seat anywhere. He had to actually remind himself to start breathing again, as his body seemed to decide that breathing of its own accord was old news.

John, at least, was apparently more observant than Phil might have given him credit for from his first impression. He seemed to recognize the look on his face immediately, and his gaze flicked back and forth between Phil and the shadowy Dan several times before he spoke up. “Well, lads, it might be best to have the rest of this conversation inside, don’t you think?”

It took Phil a few seconds to realize he was being addressed, but he finally managed to tear his gaze away from Dan in order to nod in response to John. “Right, come on in.” He chanced one more look at Dan, but his face was dark enough that he couldn’t really make out any kind of expression, so he just sucked in a breath through his teeth and turned to lead the way inside.

It was only once they were safely up in the sitting room that Dan finally took off the hood, and Phil was able to get a decent look at his face. He seemed remarkably like the same old Dan, albeit a fair bit tanner than he had been in recent years, presumably as a result of the government issued cover up mousse. He had an ugly series of stitches over his left temple, but his complexion was not at all unlike it had been when the two of them had first met, and Phil found himself letting out an extremely inopportune laugh at that realisation. For the first time since his arrival, Dan met his eyes, a small smile starting to form on his own face as well. Before long, they were just grinning at one another like idiots, and John was forced to clear his throat loudly in order to get their attention.

“I’m glad to see you seem to be getting along but Clarence is waiting outside, and I have a few other households to get to before my shift is over, so if we could get to business?” He asked, sounding a bit apologetic. Phil tore his gaze away from Dan’s again to nod at the employee, who promptly unzipped the bag he was carrying in order to remove a rather ugly looking mechanical device. It almost looked like a gun, but with a canister of some sort of fluid rather than bullets. The neurotryptilin, Phil assumed. “If you’ll just sit down, Dan? I can’t even begin to reach if you’re standing up, you’re so bloody tall.”

From the way he talked to him, Phil could only assume that John and Dan knew one another, probably from the treatment center that Dan would have spent the last few months at. Dan did as he was told and moved to sit cross legged on the sofa, with his back against the arm rather than the backrest, allowing John to step up behind him. John motioned Phil over as he did so, and Phil crossed the room to stand behind Dan as well, watching as John showed him how the administration machine worked.

“You see here-” John murmured, pushing down the collar of Dan’s coat in order to reveal a small dark hole in the skin right over his spine between the tops of his shoulderblades. “That’s where you’ve got to stick the nozzle. You just shove it in there and pull the trigger.” He did as he was describing, shoving the small opening of the device into the hole and then pressing down on the trigger. It took only a moment before Dan let out a gasp, curling forward into fetal position and breathing hard.

Phil instinctively wanted to comfort him, and he reached out to take hold of his shoulder, only for John to grasp his wrist and pull his hand back. He glanced at the man in confusion, and John gave him an understanding smile. “Just let him ride through it. A dose of neurotryptilin tends to bring on a little wave of flashbacks. He’ll be alright in a moment.”

Phil wanted to argue, but just as John had said, Dan seemed to calm down after a few seconds, and he looked up at Phil with a weak smile.

There were so many things that Phil wanted to say to him, but he didn’t feel particularly comfortable saying any of them in front of John, so he simply smiled back, and turned his attention back to the rehab worker. “Right, I think I can manage that. It’s once a day? What happens if we miss a dose?” His tone was joking, but the look that crossed John’s face was anything but amused.

“Don’t miss a dose. Believe me, missing a dose is a hell of a lot more trouble than it’s worth.” He said seriously, before turning his attention to Dan. “Best of luck, mate. I hope I never have to see you again, but if you have any trouble, feel free to call. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need a word with your flatmate here before I go.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Dan replied, speaking for the first time since he got out of the van, and reaching up to rub at the spot at the back of his neck. Phil just stared at him for a few seconds, drinking in the fact that he’d just heard the voice he was so sure he would never hear again. John cut this moment short as well, reaching out to clap Phil on the shoulder.

“You can walk me out, I have a few more things that you need to know about, and then I’ll be out of your hair.” He offered, and with some difficulty, Phil did as he was told, turning away from Dan and walking the portly gentlemen down to the exit into the street.

“Now I’ve come to know Dan a bit, I’ve been working with his doctors for a few months now, so I don’t think it’s necessary, but protocol and all that.” John was saying, while Phil only half listened. He probably should have been paying more attention, as it might have spared him some confusion when he looked down to see that the man had pressed a taser into his hands. “Just in case. So far none of our patients have gone rabid a second time, but it’s better safe than sorry. This way you’ve got a non-lethal solution, and you can give us a call to come get him if he starts to get bitey. And keep an eye out for any blue pills. He really doesn’t strike me as the type, but some PDS sufferers have been getting their hands on a drug we’re calling Blue Oblivion. Nasty stuff. Sends them right on back to their untreated state.”

Phil just nodded in response, and let out a bit of a yelp as John pulled him into an entirely unexpected hug. He couldn’t really decide whether this man was likeable, or just a bit too handsy.

“Anyway, good luck. I’ve left a package with the neurotryptilin and the information you’ll be needing on the table upstairs. You can find the contact number for the nearest rehabilitation center in the information packet. We’ll be sending a local volunteer around weekly to check in on how you two are doing, but really, don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.” With a wide smile, John turned and stepped out the front door, shutting it behind him and leaving Phil to stand alone on the landing.

Taking a deep breath, he headed back up the stairs.

***

February-April, 2017

It took quite a while before Phil managed to calm down enough to get the full story, and honestly, it seemed like something of an anticlimactic end for someone who had loomed so large in his life.

A lorry had simply lost a wheel and spun out. It had caused something of a pileup, but only one person had been seriously injured; the rest of the people involved had walked away with little more than a few bangs and scrapes.

Unfortunately, that one person had been Dan. The lorry in question had been carrying construction materials, and upon impact with another car, the cargo had come loose from its lashings. Most of the two by fours and scrap metal had just landed on the street, contributing to the massive pileup, but one large girder had split apart on contact with the pavement, and a sizeable shard of sharp metal had gone straight through the front window of the taxi in which Dan was a passenger, missing the driver in the process.

If it had gone just a foot to the left or right, everything would have been just fine. Instead it had impaled Dan through the left side of his chest, slicing through a major artery and puncturing a lung. According to the update he got from Mr. Howell when he finally brought himself to call, Dan had bled out shortly after arriving at the hospital. There was nothing that anyone could have done.

Not that this knowledge did a darn thing for Phil’s guilt.

He couldn’t get over the fact that if he had just gone to Tesco’s himself, or shut up and dealt with the fact that maybe he would just have to eat toast for breakfast the next day, none of this would have happened.

The Howells were making a point in not blaming him for what had happened at all, but that didn’t help in the slightest. If anything, it just made things worse. He wanted someone to yell at him- to chew him out, tell him that he was to blame- but all he was getting was sympathy.

Their friends and colleagues were the worst. They clearly didn’t know what to say to him, but that didn’t stop the slew of texts and DMs on twitter, all expressing vaguely the same thing. That they didn’t want to bother him, but would be there for him if he ever wanted to talk, or a shoulder to cry on.

PJ and Chris had dragged him out of the flat a few days after the funeral to go shopping. They were obviously trying to help, but it had turned out to be nothing but an awkward evening of drawn out silences and forced jokes. He hadn’t heard from Chris since, and it would be months before PJ tried to text again.

In the end, it was Louise who finally managed to pull him through the worst of it. She had arrived at Phil’s doorstep without warning, bringing along an entire duffel bag of snacks, board games, and blu-rays.

His appetite really wasn’t what it once was, and he had no interest in playing Dream Date or watching an entire season of RuPaul’s Drag Race, but the fact that Louise seemed to think that the perfect way to make him feel better was the exact way a teenager would cheer up another teenager after a bad break up was enough to make him laugh for the first time in nearly a month.

It might have been a bit of a mental break to be honest, because he couldn’t stop laughing or even get himself off where he’d ended up on his back on the floor for well over twenty minutes.

She ended up staying for a week, carefully prodding him with tasty snacks and even consenting to a full marathon of Buffy. It must have done him some good, because by the time she left, he finally felt ready to do the one thing that he least wanted to do.

They had already filmed the latest episode of The Sims, but it hadn’t been fully edited yet. A large part of Phil wanted to just leave it alone, but he couldn’t help but feel that if this was the last the world was going to see of the two of them together, he owed it to everyone, himself included, to finish it.

He had been right in thinking so. The entire process was painful, and it took him nearly two weeks worth of short editing bursts to do it, but by the time the finished product was rendering on DanAndPhilGAMES, he did find himself feeling some sense of closure. The comments and tweets that rolled in over the next few days were an even bigger help, and before too long, he found the energy to record a new video, which was met with an equal outpouring of support when he posted it.

Things were still hard, but he was starting to reach some semblance of ‘okay’.

Of course, only a few short months later the entire world would find itself in the midst of an Apocalypse, and then everything would go to hell in a handbasket again.

***

30 January, 2021

When Phil returned to the flat, he was expecting to find Dan waiting on the couch where he had left him, but he was nowhere to be seen.

For a wild moment, he imagined that he had been dreaming the events of the last few days. They were a bit too good to be true, after all. Then he heard a low laugh coming from the direction of Dan’s room, and he was flooded with relief. Hesitating for just a moment, he made his way in the direction of the noise, and pushed the door open.

Dan was standing in the middle of the room, taking in the untouched decorations and various nicknacks. He turned at the sound of the door opening, giving Phil a small grin before turning back in the direction of his piano. “Did you literally just leave this as some kind of Dan museum? It looks exactly the same as it did the last I saw it.” He commented, his tone teasing but soft.

“Yeah… Guess I kind of did.” Phil murmured, scratching at the back of his head and staring straight at Dan. He still couldn’t quite believe the fact that his friend was there, standing in his room, as if the past four years had never even happened. Only that silly tan cover up and the unhealed stitches on his face served as reminders that it had, in fact, been real. “I had a thought to turn it into a guest room, but I couldn’t bring myself to put any of your things away, and only Louise even had the opportunity to sleep in here before… before everything happened. She opted for the futon.”

Dan’s expression softened, and he paused in his perusal of the room, to turn his gaze back on Phil, giving him a once over. “...You look different. Good different, don’t get me wrong, but it’s a little weird. I look exactly the same.” He paused, eyes widening slightly. “You’re 34. Jesus fucking christ, I hadn’t even thought of it- Happy birthday!”

It hadn’t occurred to Phil how different he must have looked to Dan. His hair had grown out, and he hadn’t bothered to colour it in ages- the majority of it was still black, but it was faded, and his natural ginger-y roots were starting to show.  His current outfit was less of a specific style and more a mishmash of whatever was comfortable, made up of mix of his own more current wardrobe at the flat and old things he’d pilfered from his parents’ house. From a purely visual standpoint, he rather thought he probably looked a mess, now that he thought about it, but it was nice of Dan to say otherwise.

“Thanks, Dan.” He finally said, mostly in response to the birthday comment. He paused for a moment before deciding that there was no point in hiding what he was thinking. So what if it was cheesy? He had plenty of regrets in his life- he wasn’t going to let ‘not sharing my feelings with my best friend because they’re a bit sappy’ become another regret. “I have to admit, you being here is honestly the best birthday present I could have gotten.”

Dan grinned in response, and this time Phil didn’t even bother questioning whether what he wanted to do was sappy. He just went with his instincts and crossed the room before enveloping Dan in the kind of hug that probably would have hurt Dan if he still had to breathe, and burying his face against the slightly taller man’s shoulder.

It only took a moment for Dan to respond in kind, and he looped his arms around Phil in return, hugging him with an enthusiasm that actually did sort of hurt, but not enough for Phil to put a stop to it.

Eventually, it was Dan who broke the hug apart, although he kept a hand on Phil’s shoulder, still grasping him tightly. “I have absolutely no issue with cuddling for the next ten hours if that’s what you want, but you’ve got to loosen the grip a little, Philly. I think you almost pulled out some stitches, and I really don’t want to go back to the Treatment Center just to have them put back in because my rotten insides are poking out.”

Phil laughed despite the fact that this wasn’t particularly funny, and resisted the urge to completely ignore the warning and hug him again. “Sorry. It’s just hard to believe you’re… you. And you’re standing here. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Dan responded, with a lot more genuine emotion than they usually shared whilst saying relatively sappy things. “I know I’ve been gone longer from your end, but I did just go through months of forced therapy to deal with memories of literally eating people, so I would argue that it felt like a lot longer than it was.”

Now would probably have been a good time to talk about this. There was a heck of a lot of baggage between the two of them now, both personal baggage and joint baggage, and there were a lot of things still left unsaid. Not to mention the logistical discussions that needed to be had, especially pertaining to when and if Dan wanted to make his continued existence known to the fans that they still had.

Phil thought about all of this, and then decided that all of it could wait.

“Crunchyroll went back online about a week ago. Let me just get my laptop and we can cuddle in your bed and have a rewatch of ‘Free!’?”

Dan grinned ear to ear, and Phil was happy to see that the heavy mousse didn’t seem to be having any effect on his dimples. “God, yes.”

The real world and its ever present issues could wait. They had catching up to do, and fictional swim teams to cheer on.

[coruscorp-blog]

DEAR, MS. ( PHOEBE JEON )

We are pleased to have you back for another year as an UPPER THIRD YEAR STUDENT at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We sincerely hope your classmates in HUFFLEPUFF treat you well.

2003

“Failure,” David huffs, wiping away the sweat that glistens at his brow. “Is the first step to success.” It’s peak summer in Essex and the heat is brutal, merciless in the way it beats down in waves. In the afternoon, it’s all that on top of being stuck in Grandma’s garage for three whole consecutive hours, the hood of the classic Cola Red Rolls-Royce popped up, the engine humming listlessly. Phoebe is on standby as his designated assistant, and she’s armed with double duty: monkey wrench held in one tiny fist, her dad’s wand in the other.

Earlier that week, the mention of vacation had conjured a completely different set of pictures in the back of her mind: a bluer landscape for one (ideally sitting poolside with a line of artificial palm trees or even kayaking off of Loch Sunart), and activities that don’t require having to be around the smell of motor oil and paint. but that’s what it seems to mean for David Jeon who, like his wife Grace Jeon, spends 250 days too many abroad as a curse breaker that anything that resembles pure, physical work is the perfect medium to detox.

The family two doors down, on the other hand, seem to have a better grasp on how to spend their day. Emily had invited her over for a bowl of homemade Rocky Road and Looney Tunes, both things Phoebe would rather be doing than whatever…this is supposed to be. Muggles have their shit together in that sense, you’ve gotta give them that.

Dad motions for the wrench, which she reluctantly holds high for him to take. He continues to talk in circles, and is back to point A: “Because it’s important to remember that failure is the first step to–?”

“Disaster.”

Mom walks into the garage, balancing two glasses of pink lemonade on a tray. Hair tucked into a low chignon and fingernails immaculately polished, Phoebe can’t recall a single day when she didn’t look as though she’d stepped right off the pages of some high-end magazine. Those who don’t know any better would assume she’s no stranger to vanity; Grace prefers to call it being prepared. A consulting job at one of the most lucrative magical trade firms in Europe entails a high tolerance for unpredictability. It’s happened before, last summer, matter of fact: a two week long trip in Manila cut short when Grace was unexpectedly called in to handle an emergency at work. But today’s not one of those days, it looks like. “The correct answer is disaster.” She sets the tray down and pulls Phoebe to her side, though not before casting David and his failed handiwork a withering glance. “Please don’t give her any stupid ideas.”

2008

Older brothers aren’t worth shit.

Having three of them? Only triples the amount of done Phoebe feels within their vicinity. The second they’ve arrived home from Platform 9 ¾ the Jeon residence has been in a constant state of turmoil, whatever calm that’s once resided long turned to dust.

“Phoebe baby, what are you doing?”

Scowling, she moves away from the window to join her grandma in the kitchen. Annoyance is the obvious adjective, envy perhaps somewhere in there. Maybe they aren’t worth shit to her, but for Hogwarts, it had clearly been a different story. Per tradition, the Sorting Hat had placed all three of them into one house. Red and gold seems to run in the family, and it holds true to Philip, Peyton, and Paul; distinct in their respective paths, but aiming for better, brighter things nonetheless.

And then there’s Phoebe. Eleven, miserably knee-deep in the widening gap between herself and the boys, her Hogwarts letter yet to see the light of day.

“Can’t I stay with you, halmae?” There’s hard boiled eggs in the bowl, which she begins to peel.

“But you like it here.” Grandma continues to slice beef into thin pieces. Jangjorim becomes a staple at the lunch table only whenever she makes the trip up north to visit them.

“Not when they’re around.”

Chuckling softly, she gathers the rest of the meat to braise. “Maybe so, it’ll be different when you’re a little older. Now go grab some peppers for me, please.”

Maybe is only a suggestion at best. Such changes in the end turn to be neither for the better or for the worse but rather never turn out, at all. Her contempt remains, stagnant and ever present, and will last well into her twenties.

For now, sitting outside on the patio with the meal underway, her single point of satisfaction is when none of her siblings can last a bite into any of Grandma’s infamously spicy dishes. As they sit sniffling and near-weeping through a bowl of jjamppong, she can’t help but grin, smile girlishly toothy and wide.

2012

She’s doing just fine.

Even if the initial shock had been well, shocking. The plan had been if not the house where dwell the brave of heart, then perhaps where the emerald gleams and glows is the next best fit. She could be snarky, scornful—traits that are shared in equal measure between the two.

Evidently, that hadn’t been the deciding factor in the end.

“You just don’t have the sob story for it, Pheebs.” A shrug. “Sorry.”

Weirdly, she hadn’t felt very sorry, if at all.

In fact, this might’ve been the start she’d looking for. Underneath the seemingly aggressive, prickly, almost-always-glaring exterior resides a discernible amount of compassion. Tough love, perhaps, maybe too literally. Defiant. A tad too bold. Forgiving at times. Love that looks more like resolve, if anything. Which she has (looking at you, Mom, Dad, resident asshole trifecta). Plenty of it.

Admittedly, there’s also a sense of comfort in being the middle. Badgers have a knack for that kind of thing, claws out, searching for that soft belly of earth. Making the best of it is the path she takes, right down to the bumble bee stripes that are, to her surprise, actually supercute.

It’s not long before a couple of things come around to her in no time: the Chaser spot on the Quidditch team, her hand at Potions and DADA, and the painful dichotomy dictating what precedes her every step: the severe case of RBF that speaks for itself before she can, or the Jeon triplets’ own legacy that threatens to loom over like a shadow. Any sense of puzzle piece compatibility is at odds with her very psyche: almost, but never there, or a simply relegated to being a carbon copy. Sticking in, sticking out, a sore, blunt thumb no matter the context.

If there’s any source of solace to be found within the castle walls, it’s in the kitchens with the house elves. It doesn’t hold a candle to Grandma’s house, with its smell of sesame oil and green chives, but it’s something. Between places where potential is the buzzword and she’s gestured to as “the sister,” Phoebe is a force to be reckoned with here, a budding talent that is hers.

Mom writes her back a couple of days later. Skimming the letter brings the same old: Dad’s over there, I’m here, your brothers are scattered elsewhere. There’s one thing that’s worth nothing, however:

Paul doesn’t seem all that interested in going pro, anymore. This is followed by mention of the other two, both unsure of their future endeavors in their new, post-graduate state.

Phoebe folds up the letter, thinking. A new possibility begins to bloom.

Okay. Fine is okay for now, she decides.

In fact, that’s all she needs to be.

2016

“So he’s rich now.”

She and Mickey,a fellow Huff, are sitting at the front porch, a little ways away from the party that rages on inside. This time it’s for Paul. Just last week he’d been tapped to be the new Seeker of the Wigtown Wanderers.

“Who, Phillip? Yeah.”

He’d had a stroke of luck just seconds before the ball drop, an innovative breakthrough with one of his experimental potions. He’s still in NYC, having sent his congratulations through a video call. Peyton’s situated himself in London, a high-ranking Auror at the Ministry of Magic, and both of their parents are traveling more than ever, by now experts at their individual fields. Naturally, they’ve made time for today, for the festivities.

The taste of Butterbeer is savory sweet, caramel and cane sugar melting soft on her tongue; with the sun about to set, there’s a faint sense of melancholy that washes over her, featherlight. Earlier that day she had looked at the corner of the room where her Nimbus used to stand. Phoebe’s given it away a long while back: a particularly nasty fall during tryouts that kept her out of the game for the rest of the year; the decision to quit right after kept her out then for good.

Serves her right, really.

“Well you can’t get mad at someone for trying.”

She makes a face. “I’m not mad, piss off.” Far from it, actually. Phoebe’s come a long way with her character development (or so she likes to believe). In place of the juvenile envy there’s a pang of guilt that throbs beneath the skin.

“Let’s go back. It’s freezing out here.”

But even as they head back inside, there’s one thought that stays stuck. The angle has shifted, a new scope split open. Inexplicably so. But that’s just the mystery of epiphanies, isn’t it.

Trying?

That can’t be all there is to it.

2017

Three friends, one summer. Behind them, a waiter carries a sizzling entrée over to the adjacent table. Fortunately, they’re plenty occupied: green papaya salad and shrimp ragoon on their plates, the rest of their meal full to the brim with all the stories they’ve left until the school year was over to tell face to face. Glasgow has always been home, the notion shaped by none other but those that knew her best. Here, it’s namely the two women that sat across from her, eager to tease and indulge in ways that are viscerally familiar.

Remember when

“There was that cute server Phoebe was trying to hit on, but when he came by all she did was awkwardly hand him a Groupon for free flying lessons.”

“Wait, hold on just a sec–”

“Poor guy didn’t even know what to do ‘cause she didn’t even say a thing.”

“Guys please!”

Don’t tell me you forgot that

“I’m going to Morocco in the fall. First assignment as a curse breaker.”

That

“My internship at the Ministry starts then too, wow.”

That

“Pheebs?”

“I’m going to stay here.”

She grins. “But I’ve got an idea.”

2018

To be a grown up is to be able to look yourself in the mirror and say:

This is enough.

This is enough.

This is enough.

She’s close.

She’s getting there.