#my partner says it's more slideshow than animation

[sleepyselkiesketches]

MY FIRST ANIMATION!!!

[enigmaticxbee]

✖️✖️ 11x08 Familiar

The one where... the terrifying children’s tv character Mr. Chuckleteeth is luring children into the woods.

Best: Why is a smiling figure and a cheery song sung by children the creepiest thing?

Worst: A young fair-haired girl named Emily dies and neither the show nor the characters seem to remember that Scully had a fair-haired daughter named Emily who died tragically. I… If you don’t want us to make that connection use another name! Any other name!!

✔️ Flashlights

✔️ Woods

❌ Slideshow

✔️ Autopsy

❌ Evidence Disappears

❌ Scully Misses It

❌ Mulder Ditch

❌ Sunflower Seeds

❌ Voiceover

❌ Catch Phrase

✔️ Scully is a Medical Doctor

❌ Mulder is Spooky

❌ Scuuullllaaaaayy! Muullllderrrr!

❌ Fox/Dana

❌ Inappropriate Touching (that I am here for)

❌ Casual Scully

❌ Casual Mulder

✔️ Trench Coats

❌ Bad Tie Watch

❌ Glasses Watch

50 States: Connecticut x8 (45/50)

Investigate: Together & Apart

Solve Rate: 79%

❌ Bechdel Test: No conversation between women

MSR: 🐝🐝

Goriness: 👽👽👽

Creepiness: 👽👽👽👽

Humor: 👽👽

Rewatch Thoughts:

William check-in: When asked if he has children Mulder replies he has a son who’s grown. I wonder what he would have responded before they found Jackson. Must be tricky, saying no would feel wrong but you wouldn’t want any follow up questions if you said yes.

Break-up check-in: They seem in a good place this episode, considerate of each other’s ideas even when they have opposing theories.

How did they hear about this case? Did Mulder set up some kind of alert for crimes in towns with history of witches?

Mulder: Agent Scully’s also a medical doctor, and damn good at her job. Backing up his partner to local law enforcement, we love to see it. Even though he clearly thinks witchcraft was involved. And because this is The X-Files of course he turns out to be right.

Mulder when Scully thanks him: Yeah, you’re my homie. Oh, Mulder.

Scully: … stirring something other than his cauldron. Ew, Scully, no.

Is it normal to have a funeral so quickly? It must have been only a few days since the boy died and as his mom notes the body hasn’t been released for burial… I know it’s probably just a narrative excuse to get all the characters together in one place.

Not sure I like the parallels this episode is trying to draw between the Salem witch-hunts and the presumption of guilt of convicted sex offenders. It just seems like more than this episode can take on - it’s already overstuffed with adultery and violent cops and witchcraft and wild animals and creepy children’s tv shows and and and…

Mulder’s I… did not see that coming when he accuses the chief of witchcraft and he confesses instead to sinning against God and opening the gates of hell because of his adultery.

This is one of those cases where Mulder and Scully investigating only made things worse lol - without them there everyone in those two families would probably still have ended up dead as this curse destroyed everyone it touched, but Scully wouldn’t have steered the investigation in the wrong direction resulting in the death of the innocent (of this crime) sex offender. Not that Mulder’s investigation had much of an impact either - wouldn’t it have been more satisfying if they had saved the chief’s wife at the end and she had to live with what her curse had done to her family?

Oh hey, the 2nd episode of the revival and 4th episode of the series directed by a woman

[mldrgrl]

Times mulder complimented something scully was wearing

6 Times Mulder Complimented Scully on What She Was Wearing and 1 Time He Complimented What She Wasn't

Year 1

He’d finished his slideshow only moments before and had already shrugged into his overcoat, ready to head out the door.  He waited for her by the lightswitch, waiting as she gathered her bag and her coat.  She stopped though, when he didn’t move out of the doorway, blocking the exit with his arm across the door, trigger-finger on the switch.

“Mulder?”  She lifted her brow in question.

“What color would you call that?” he asked, reaching out to tug on the pocket of her blazer.

“Oh, um?”

“Lavender?  Or periwinkle?”

“I think periwinkle is a little more blue.  Lavender, probably.  Why?”

“Just wondering.  It brings out your eyes.”

“Oh.”

“I like it.”  He flicked the switch and moved out of the doorway so she could pass by.

She hesitated for a few moments, embarrassed without knowing quite why.  ���Thanks,” she murmured.

*****

Year 2

He haunted the doorway of her hospital room, pacing the hall and checking every ten minutes or so to see if she’d awoke yet.  Finally, when he’d peaked through the narrow glass window, her eyes were open and he pushed the door open with a smile.

“Hey,” he said.

“Mulder?”  She sat up a little straighter and nervously adjusted the sheets over her hips.

“Don’t get up on my account,” he teased.  “Just came to see how you were feeling today.”

“Good.  Fine.  I think.  I still don’t…”

“It doesn’t matter.”  

The gold cross he’d held onto and returned to her twinkled when she nodded slightly, catching the sunlight streaming through the window, and his eye.  She looked down and plucked at the loose, drab yellow hospital gown for a moment.

“I must look awful,” she said.

He shook his head.  She was radiant, compared to two days ago, with tubes and wires going in and out of her every which way.  He couldn’t tell her that, though.  Not about how frightened he was, seeing her like that.

“I hear hospital gown is the new black,” he said.

She smiled just a little.

*****

Year 3

“I need a new tailor,” he said, apropos of nothing, as they exited the airport terminal and headed to long-term parking.

“Oh?” she said, scanning the lot up ahead for section B.

“My guy is retiring, end of the month.”

“Oh.”

“Who do you use?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, obviously yours is great.”

“Obviously?”

“Well yeah.  Six months or so you switched to pantsuits and you know, you being so sho...small in stature, I imagine you’d need to get those taken up.  And let me tell you, the length is damn near perfect and the stitching is top quality.  I want someone to make me look that good too.”

She choked a little on disbelief and stopped short.  “Mulder…”

“What?  I’m a trained investigator Scully, I notice these things.”

“I’ll...uh, I’ll get a business card for you.  The shop is on M Street.”

“Great!  Maybe we can start wearing matching suits to work.”

“In your dreams, Mulder.”

*****

Year 4

She’d signed for the delivery with some hesitation, insisting she hadn’t ordered anything from Bloomingdale’s, but the delivery man was equally as insistent that he had a package for Dana Scully and needed her signature.  She brought the shopping bag in and pulled a long, white box out of it, setting it in the middle of her table.

Tentatively, as though she might be handling a bomb, she lifted the lid off the box.  Whatever was inside was wrapped in tissue paper that crinkled as she unwrapped the gift.  She gasped when she pulled out a plush, white robe.  A plain notecard fell to the floor and she picked it up.  It was blank on one side and the other simply said: SCULLY.

“Mulder,” she whispered.  “What did you do?”

It took her ten minutes of pacing her kitchen to finally call him.  He answered on the second ring.  “Mulder.”

“Mulder, it’s me,” she said.

“Oh, hey Scully.”

“What did you do?”

“No telling.  How much trouble am I in and I’ll try to guess.”

“I just got a delivery.  From Bloomingdale’s.”

“Oh, good.”

“What did you...I mean, why…”

“It’s soft, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“Not that you didn’t look all cute and cozy in that other robe you have, but this one is softer.”

“You didn’t...you shouldn’t have done this.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Just think of it as a belated birthday present.”

“You already got me a keychain.”

“I could take it back.”

“Is it returnable?”

“I don’t know, I picked it up at a gas station off I-81.”

“The robe?”

“No, the keychain.”  He chuckled.  “Just enjoy it, Scully, you deserve it.”  He hung up then and she was left with silence.  She hung up the dead phone and then stroked the collar of her new robe.  It was one of the softest things she’d ever felt.

*****

Year 5

“It says here we’re going to have to do a little hiking,” he said.

She closed the pamphlet for the conference and sighed.  “Fantastic.”

“Pack light, pack that blue jacket you have.”

“What blue jacket?”

“That windbreaker, the pullover.  With the pocket in the front.”

“You know, Mulder, sometimes it’s a little disconcerting how familiar you are with my wardrobe.”

“Nah, I only remember the really important pieces.”

“Important, meaning?”

“You know, those little pieces that go together really well or are particularly flattering.”

“And the blue windbreaker is...flattering?”

He shrugged.  “It’s blue.  You look good in blue.”

*****

Year 6

They were two beers in on Mulder’s couch, a Yankees v. Blue Jays game on mute on the television.  Mulder got up to toss his bottle and then stopped on his way back, running his finger along the collar of her jacket, draped over the back of the chair next to the TV.

“I think this is the least practical you’ve ever been,” he said.

“Hm?” she answered, lifting her beer bottle up to inspect it.

“Suede.  Very impractical.  Very hard to take care of.”

“I can say the same about you.”

“Hah.”  He snort-laughed and then plopped down beside her again on the couch.  “If I were an article of clothing I’m more likely to be a sweaty, ratty t-shirt.”

“No, more like a well-worn sweatshirt.”

He rolled his head towards her and smiled a little.  She gave him a glance, but then quickly looked away and took a sip of her beer.

“What about you?” he asked.

“What about me?”

“What would you be?”

“I don’t know.”

“I think you’d be...something woolen.”

“Woolen?”

“Yeah.  Scratchy, but warm.”

“Scratchy, but warm,” she repeated with a slight frown.

“Wool is strong, it’s versatile, and you know, wool from the vicuña is the most expensive fabric in the entire world, only collectible once every two to three years from the same animal.  It’s rare and precious.”

“How do you know so much about fabrics, Mulder?”

“I’m a connoisseur.  Come on, Clemens, you can throw better than that!”

Scully took another sip of her beer and tried to turn her focus to the game, but she was lost in thought.  Scratchy.  Warm.  Strong.  Versatile.  Rare.  Precious.  Scratchy?

“I’m glad you splurged on that jacket though,” Mulder suddenly said.

“You are?”

“It looks amazing on you.”

*****

Year 7

The faucet in his bathroom was still leaking, even though the super swore he’d fix it while Mulder was out of town for the weekend.  Still though, he could hear the drip, drip, drip from bed, even over the tree branches that tapped at the window from the light breeze.  He turned onto his side from his back and lay face to face with his partner.  She was asleep, or so he thought.  When he traced a heart on her bare shoulder, her eyes opened and she gave him a drowsy smile.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she answered.

“I was just thinking.”

“It’s late.”

“Or early, depending on your point of view.”

“What were you thinking?”

“I’ve never seen that green sweater you were wearing before.”

“It’s new.”  She yawned, closed her eyes, and snuggled a little deeper into his pillow.  “Why?  Don’t like it?”

“It looks better on my floor.”

She chuckled, but kept her eyes closed.  “With lines like that, I can’t imagine how it took seven years for you to get me into bed.”

“Reconsidering your choices?”

“Maybe.  Maybe not.”  She reached up blindly and took his hand off her shoulder, tucking it under her chin to press a kiss to his knuckles.  “Do you want me to wake you when I get up?”

“No, I’ll be too sad.”

“Why?  You’ll see me again in less than two hours, probably.”

“Yeah, but you won’t be as naked as you are right now.”

“True.  Not unless the bureau has changed their dress code without me knowing.”

“Will you wear the navy blazer?”

“Sure.”

“And the white top.  The cotton one, not the silk one.”

“Cotton, not silk.  Mmhm.”

“Wait.”

Scully yawned again.  “Hm?”

“Now I’m just thinking, maybe you should wear something less tempting.  You still have that giant, puffy, blue and pink and green jacket?”

“I’m afraid that was burned in quarantine, obviously for the better.”

“Darn.”

“Mulder?”

“Hm?”

“Go to sleep.”

“Okay.”  He turned over onto his back again and a few moments later, Scully inched her way closer and draped an arm over his chest.

“The dark Armani suit, with a white shirt, and the red tie,” she murmured.

“What about it?”

“It’s my favorite.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”  He gave her a squeeze and closed his eyes.

The End

[shelovescontrol91]

Everyone knows the story of Cinderella, whether you grew up with Walt Disney’s 1950 animated film, the Rodgers and Hammerstein television musical, or the European folktale. Still, adapting a beloved story for a new generation means connecting past and present. The cast and crew of 2021’s Cinderella was intent on innovation. The film, which is set to premiere on Amazon Prime on September 3rd, reimagines the story as an uplifting musical about the power of self-discovery.

Unlike her predecessors Camila Cabello’s “Ella” doesn’t aspire to life as a royal, instead she’s busy building a fashion empire. The heroine's shift from dreamer to proactive entrepreneur makes for a different kind of narrative, one the forces behind the project hope will inspire young girls. “It is a completely new telling of the story. I feel like other fairytales have values that are more antiquated and don’t reflect women accurately,” shared Cabello from Los Angeles. “In this Cinderella, she has dreams and ambitions, and she wants to save herself, not have a prince or anybody else save her.”

Given Ella’s goals, much of the modernization is expressed via wardrobe. For costume designer Ellen Mirojnick, telling Ella’s story meant starting from scratch. “With Cinderella you of course think of the blue dress, the glass slipper, etc. but that wasn’t how we were going to approach this story,” she says. “This is a brand new retelling so we wanted to put a twist on it and embrace a new point of view, [one] that promotes female empowerment and individuality.”  

Adept at creating jaw dropping costumes for immersive fictional worlds—her costumes for Bridgerton, The Greatest Showman, and Maleficent: Mistress of Evil are characters unto themselves—Mirojnick looked to the soundtrack inspiration. “Everything becomes concrete once you read and listen to the music,”she says. “The songs have fairytale, romantic, and modern aspects and an [overarching] theme about breaking the glass ceiling.” Within Ella’s wardrobe those concepts translate into period looks that feature contemporary touches and pieces that highlight her uniqueness. Still, Mirojnick was careful not to foreshadow Ella’s princess transformation. “From the beginning [of the design process] we took into consideration that her clothes shouldn’t be too obvious,” says Mirojnick. “So you have her in neutral colors, natural fabrics, linens, but with modern touches like her belts.”

The character’s interest in design was key to understanding her motivations. “One of the things I realized is that you have a Cinderella who is [effectively] designing herself,” says Mirojnick. “Ella’s closet is at the center of our film. The costumes capture her spirit, how design empowers her, and how nothing will get her down. Camila, who is one of the most authentic and joyous spirits I’ve met in a long time, embodies this perfectly.” For Cabello, who describes her character’s look as innovative and daring, collaborating with Mirojnick throughout the design process was a dream. “I loved my work costumes! They were so comfortable, but still had Ella’s swag to them,” she says. “Ellen and her team were so passionate, full of joy for what they were doing. They were so in love with Ella and the values she represented. In a time where women’s self expression is so limited, she uses fashion to express herself. Even when she’s dressing for work she has accessories in her hair, and puts unique details in her corsets. I think it shows how much self expression and authenticity is important to her.”

Oscreen Ella, uses the tools at her disposal to create, but she’s still subject to the limitations of being a young, cash-strapped designer. “For the ball she is making her own gown, so we had to hone in on what she would create and what she might have difficulty making,” says Mirojnick. “That is until the Fab G comes along.”

Audiences know Disney’s ‘Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo’-singing, benevolent godmother, but Billy Porter’s Fab G is a completely different take on the magical mentor figure. Porter, with his outré style and endless swagger, needed more than a powder blue cape. So Mirojnick whipped up a gilded gown with reflective shades inspired by butterfly wings. “The Fab G was born from the monarch butterfly,” explains Mirojnick. “I presented a whole series of sketches to Billy. It was important to him that the costume represent both masculine and feminine elements. It all came together in a couple of conversations. I had to take into consideration movement and how the character would emerge onto the scene because it had to be fabulous.” Equally striking are the Fab G’s accessories which run the gamut from a glittery wand, custom Jimmy Choo boots, and a Mercedes Benz carriage that Porter dreamed up with the automaker. “It’s all remarkable,” says Mirojnick. “They truly went all out in creating the design.”

Of course, the ride isn’t as important as the destination. In this case, that would be the party thrown for Nicholas Galitzine’s Prince Robert, in order to find his bride. Ella arrives in a glittering ball gown whipped up by Fab G, but she isn’t the only contender. A host of princesses from across the kingdom show up to meet the royal family and try their luck. In other adaptations this plays out as a Bachelor style spectacle where young women compete against each other for a guy, but director Kay Cannon and Mirojnick wanted to avoid that cliche. “What was most important to us was that this world be global,” says Mirojnick. “Originally we planned on having designers from other countries each contribute a design, but [that] proved too difficult last year. So we went about it our own way with each princess representing their respective nation.” The change also allowed for cameos, like Japanese comedian Naomi Watanabe.  “The ball is about bringing the community together,” says Mirojnick “They may be vying for attention but they also support each other.”

While the protagonist isn’t looking to become a princess, the story doesn’t break with tradition entirely. The clothes—which will be revealed to the world during the Mercedes Benz ‘Dressed for a Dream” livestreamed fashion showon August 28th—are the stuff of fantasy. During the show the costumes will be worn on the runway by individuals who embody the progressive messages of the film. Both Cabello and Mirojnick, who serve as Mercedes Benz brand ambassadors for the project, hope that viewers find the movie, fashion show, and subsequent campaign inspiring. “We’re going to have models walking the fashion show who have incredible success stories. They’re our everyday Ellas,” says Mirojnick. “It’s an honor to be able to partner with Mercedes on this [and] at this moment in time where we can celebrate female empowerment and amplify stories that show girls what they’re capable of.”

That sentiment was echoed by Cabello. “[The fashion show] is Ella’s dream come true! I think women seeing other women be strong, ambitious, and supporting each other is so important,” she says. “Helping each other realize our power and celebrating each other taking control of our lives is so important for young people to be watching, and for that to be the world they grow up in.”

[aghasexxy]

Naughty Girl | Im Jaebum

Pairing: Reader x JB

Words: 2,489

Genre: Smut

Warnings: A LOT of teasing/ Foreplay/ ORAL STIMULATION/ Daddy JB

Summary: You and your long time crush JB have one last project for your class to complete in order to graduate. JB has always teased you about your goody two shoes appearance. But this afternoon rendezvous changes all of that.

(The songs that inspired this one shot were Unravel Me and All To You by Sabrina Claudio so since i couldnt post them to this, you can listen to them to fully immerse yourself in this. Enjoy!)

This is it. The final stretch. My final school year is coming to a close and I intend to go out with a bang. By any means necessary. My psychology professor gave our class of fifty one final assignment. We were to discuss the many signs of erratic and destructive behavior and provide a slideshow presentation. Piece of cake. The problem lies in who my professor chose to be my partner. Im Jaebum. A.k.a one of the most popular people in my graduating class and my long time crush. We’ve been going to the same schools since we were 5 and it seems that with every passing year JB gets more attractive causing my attention to shift from time to time. He was like every other fuck boy. You know, the kind that would block your path with their entire body until you muster just enough annoyance to push them out of your way. Yeah, that kind. But I kinda liked it. The teasing and cocky playboy attitude was kinda hot. It makes him even more desirable. But of course I’ll never tell him that.

Friday is the day JB and I mutually agree to meet at my apartment off campus. I just about finish getting everything set up when I hear the doorbell ring. I walk over and open the door. There he was, leaning on the door frame. His leather jacket hugs his muscles but not in a way that make it look like its too tight. He’s wearing a loose white T-shirt that shows a fairly good amount of his chest. His skinny dark blue jeans hug his legs in such a way that you can tell he’s pretty athletic. This was his signature bad boy look and it made him so much more desirable. The cologne he was wearing was absolutely hypnotizing. I clear my throat. “Come in,” I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose and step to the side.

“Ugh this is boring!” JB throws his head back as we pass hour 2 of the project. The essay portion is just about done but I get anxious. “This needs to be perfect,” I mumble to myself. I feel JB look at me. “Just do enough so we at least get a B+.” I scoff and turn to him. “I don’t do B’s. Only A’s.” He smirks at me and I roll my eyes. “I have higher standards.” I suddenly feel the space between us disappear and turn to my right. JB had scoot closer to me. He was eyeing my word doc and reading it thoroughly. He places his head on my shoulder and hums to himself. His cologne and overall presence was overwhelming my senses. I clear my throat loudly. “Yes?” he says smoothly. “Can I help you?,” I retort back at him. He shrugs. “I’m just reading it.” He finishes it and nods. “It sounds great Y/N. You don’t need to worry about it. We’re definitely getting an A.” I smile a bit to myself. God he makes me want to melt. I stretch my neck and groan silently. “You good Y/N?” I nod and smile. “Yeah my neck is just stiff. Hours and hours of studying is finally catching up to me I guess.” He shakes his head. “Nope,” he places his arm on the back of my couch. “It’s because you’re uptight.” I scrunch my brows. “What? No I’m not!” He raises an eyebrow. “Y/N I’ve known you since I was, what, five? You’ve always played the role of little miss perfect. In everything you did it had to be perfect.” He examines my entire frame and I turn away from his gaze, crossing my arms over my chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I pout. But honestly he was right. I’ve always been the conservative type. From the way that I walked down to the clothes I wore. Thanks to my upbringing I’ve adapted this lifestyle wanting desperately to break free of it but too scared of the reaction of my parents. “For example,” JB examines me again. “This whole innocent school girl get up needs to be fixed.” He was talking about my army green cardigan over a white button up blouse and checkered skirt with black high socks. I know, typical. “Do you watch porn Y/N?” I scrunch my eyebrows and look at him absolutely dumbfounded. “What kind of question is that?” He snickers and shrugs. “A yes or no one,” he leans forward to look me eye to eye. I clear my throat. “Um no I don’t,” I turn away out of embarrassment. My eyes widen when I suddenly feel a firm hand on my bare upper thigh. I look back at JB, a devilish smirk stretched across his face. “Well,” he traces circles on my thigh lightly. His gentle touch and bad boy exterior combination is turning me on more than I can comprehend. He looks at me, sees that I’m not resisting him, and continues. “there’s a category in porn called role play,” his hand moves to my outer thigh, continuing the same soft motions. “You know what that is, right?,” his eyes shoot back up to mine so quickly I shudder under his intimidating gaze. I nod. “And you wanna know what one of the most popular scenarios is Y/N?” I shrug. He leans in closer, his hand traveling up my thigh. I gasp at his soft fingers grazing my ass cheek. “Naughty school girl.” I gulp and feel the blood start to rush to my face. “W-What?” He grabs me by my waist and pulls me into him, making me sit between his legs. My thighs rest on top of his while my legs lay behind his back. With his hand still resting on my back, he eyes me up and down. “Y/N,” he caresses my back softly while his other hand plays with my hair. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately but your behavior is unacceptable.” His hand goes from my head to my hips as he pushes me closer to him. “Violating dress code showing that nice perky ass,” he spanks me playfully. “talking back, and then pretending like you did nothing wrong,” he suddenly grips my waist hard. “And detention isn’t helping the issue at all.” He cups my chin with his hand forcing me to look at him. My breath is caught in my throat as I stare into his dreamy eyes. “Someone’s gonna have to straighten you out, get you to behave,” he says before he plants his lips onto mine.

I place my hand on his chest ready to push him off but stop once he bites my lower lip and sticks his tongue in my mouth. He moves forward causing me to lay flat on the couch. His hands rest on either thigh as we continue to devour each other. He pulls away and I whimper from the lost contact. He smirks as he can obviously see that I’m a mess for him. “You have no idea how long I wanted this,” he says under his breath. His strong hands move from my thighs to my chest. He looks at me, awaiting my approval. I nod quickly. He slowly unbuttons my shirt just enough to see my perky breasts covered in a black push up. He groans and leans down. His soft lips leave butterfly kisses along my chest and I shiver with every peck. How can someone be so gentle yet so rough at the same time? I couldn’t take anymore teasing and I was so close to begging for anything from him. His fingers clasp around the rim of both cups and pulls them downwards.

My nipples were hard and twitching from the foreplay and dirty talk. I rest my hands in his hair and behind his neck ready for his lips to attack me. Instead I’m greeted with a pleasurable pinching sensation. I look down and see him playing with them. He twists and pinches, rotating the nubs in between his thumbs and indexes. I throw my head back in ecstasy, flinching and shaking from the pain. I whimper and moan. “JB, I-it hu-hur-,” before I can finish my sentence, I gasp as I feel JBs tongue start to flick fast against my left nipple that was sensitive from the foreplay. I moan at the sensation of his tongue lapping against my sensitive nubs at rapid speed. “Oh fuck don’t hold back y/n,” he says breathlessly against my chest. “Let me know how much you want it.” He attacks my other nipple the same way and I cry out softly. “Ohhhhh that feels so good…,” I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him in. He leaves a wet kiss over my nipples making me shudder, a trail of saliva connecting his lips and my flesh. His lips trail up to the crevice of my neck as he buries his face in it. I whine out as he sucks and licks my delicate skin. I grip the nape of his neck hard, earning a hiss from him. I feel his lips curve into a grin. “You like that, huh?,” he whispers. I shudder at his warm breath on my damp skin and nod quickly. “Baby girl,” he says in a low tone making me squirm under him. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do this to you?”

He begins to slide down my body, kissing every inch of me whether it be clothed or not. “JB…,” was all I had the strength to muster. His delicate hands grip my thighs and spread them apart as he positions himself in front of my womanhood. “You remember what you wore for prom y/n?,” he asks, his eyes glued to mine. I bit my lip. I just want his mouth on me again. I shake my head as I am too emotionally and physically weak to speak. “You wore a dark red gown with a train. Open back, crossed in the front. Your hair was up,” he kisses my inner thigh slowly and deliberately. I whine from the feeling and stroke his perfectly chiseled face. “I just wanted to pull you away and kiss you until I ran out of oxygen y/n,” he kisses my other thigh just the same. His recollection of prom night made me realize that he had always paid attention to me when I didn’t think he was. “But I couldn’t,” his grip on me gets tighter and I yelp. “because fucking Namjoon was your date.” His fingers latch onto my underwear and pull them down. “But if he wasn’t your date,” his eyes focus on my throbbing and exposed pussy. The look on his face was one of an animal focusing in on its prey. He looks up at me again. “I would’ve grabbed you, thrown you on the closest table,” he pushes my legs into my chest more. “and gone down on you.” I look down at him, my vision and mind hazy. “JB please eat me,” I blurt out. He smirks at me. He realizes that he has finally broken me. “As you wish baby.”

He drags his tongue from the bottom to the top. I gasp at the feeling he was giving me. He takes his fingers and spreads my lips apart isolating my throbbing clit. He gives it an open mouth kiss, his lips swallowing it whole and I shudder. “Ah-hhh-a,” I moan out. I then feel his tongue start to lap against it and I forget how to breathe. My hand travels to the nape of his neck to stroke his head and hair. My other hand is in my mouth holding back my screams of pleasure. “JB,” I whine out. He lifts his head and I moan softly from the lost contact. “Yes beautiful?” I look down at his handsome face. Just the sight of him between my legs is enough to push me over the edge. “I-I’ve never been k-issed like this…,” I say between short breaths. He smirks and kisses my clit again making me jolt. “Oh princess,” he sticks his fingers in his mouth, presses them against my sensitive bud and proceeds to rub it hard. I shriek. He looks back up at me with piercing eyes. “I know.”

I squirm and moan nonstop as the pressure sends me into convulsions. In the midsts of my low guttural screams he begins to tease me with his words. “Seeing you shake and cry like this because of me is all I’ve ever wanted y/n.” He connects his lips back to my clit making me scream. “Ahh o-ohhhh yes J-B! J-just li-like tha-at,” a feeling at the pit of my stomach starts to rise and my breath is caught in my throat. “Ohhhhhhhhhhhh,” I moan out, running my hand through his hair for the thousandth time. He chuckles against me and I suck in a breath. “I-I t-think I’m go-onna-a…,” he pushes my legs farther back and ruthlessly continues to eat me out keeping me as still as possible. My orgasm hits me hard and I scream out. I try my best to get away from his mouth but to no avail. My pussy throbs from the overstimulation but I let him keep going. His mouth is far too good for him to stop. I push his face farther down making myself cry out in painful pleasure. “Oh fuuccckkkk,” I moan in a low guttural voice. He moans against me and I release all over his face again. This time I try to push him off of me. If I let him keep going he might actually kill me. “JB, i-I c-can-n’t…,” but he doesn’t let up and he knows I’m too weak to protest anymore. “Ohhhhh, ahhh stop….p-please…it’s t-too m-much...,” I squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself for another orgasm. He flicks his tongue over my clit a couple more times and I lose my mind. “AHHHH JB PLEASE STOOPPP!,” I scream at the top of my lungs.

He finally stops and kisses his way back up. He grabs my face and connects his lips to mine. His tongue lodges into my mouth and I taste myself. He grips my waist so hard I squirm a bit. He pulls away and looks at me, smiling at my red and sweaty face. “How do you like the taste?,” he whispers seductively. “Now you see why I couldn’t just let you cum once,” he kisses me lightly again. “You taste way too good for just one serving.” He runs his index finger over my swollen lips. “You taste better than I imagined.” He sticks his finger into my mouth encouraging me to suck it. I oblige and moan for him. He smirks and shakes his head. “What a naughty girl.”

[operationrainfall]

Title Dragon Marked for Death Developer INTI CREATES CO., LTD. Publisher INTI CREATES CO., LTD. Release Date January 31st, 2019 Genre Action RPG Platform Switch Age Rating T for Teen Official Website

Editor’s Note: For simplicity, the italicized sections represent Marisa’s impressions, while the regular ones represent Steve’s.

I recently spent some time with the latest offering from Inti Creates, Dragon Marked for Death. I went into this one expecting your standard Action RPG with some different classes and some ho hum missions. What we got was way beyond what I expected. You will hear from both myself and my partner in crime for this review, Marisa. We’ll answer the most important question of all, was this game fun?

In this game you take control of a member of the Dragonblood Clan. This was a group of humans that were caught up in the war between the Celestials and the Astral Dragons. They were saved by the blood of a dying dragon named Atruum. Why he decided to give them his blood is not known, but anyone born into the clan from this day forward would bear the Dragon Scar on their body and worship Atruum. In present day, your clan has sworn revenge on the Medius Empire for destroying your home, but first you will have to prove your place in this world as the clan isn’t seen in the best light.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

  When purchasing the game, you have a couple of different options. You can take the fighter pack which contains the Empress and Warrior, or play more strategically with the Shinobi and Witch. These packs cost $14.99 each and you can purchase both if you want to have access to all four different classes. I played with the Warrior mostly, but I did check out the Empress as well. They are very similar, but the Empress seems to be a bit faster than the Warrior. She also seems to do a little less damage, but that could’ve been because the weapon I had equipped wasn’t as good as his currently equipped axe.

In terms of raw gameplay, the game does a decent job in tailoring a smooth and quick experience. Combat moves typically don’t have huge amounts of delay and it’s simple enough to access the menu and use equipped items. Characters themselves are also easy enough to understand that with practice, using their abilities is basically second-nature. Even the Witch, which relies on incantations based on repeated button inputs, is not complicated to play as. Speaking of characters, there are four different characters, two designated as Frontline attackers and two as Advanced attackers. Each has a specific playstyle, ranging from brute force to utility. This means that a party of four has tailored roles to support the group.

After the tutorial mission you will find yourself in town. Here you can visit shops, take items out of your truck and take on quests. The shops in town will provide you with weapons, accessories and consumables that will be vital to your survival. You do need to watch out when purchasing equipment, as a certain level is required to use most of it. Once you setup all your gear, it’s time to take on a quest. The objectives of these are widely varied. They can be anything from clean out the monster dens to catching up with a floating balloon. While some of these are less fun than others, variety is the spice of life and this certainly works in the game’s favor.

Combat and exploration is perhaps the game’s best attribute. Quest areas typically have treasure chests to find, along with other secrets. As usual for Inti Creates games, enemies have specific reasons behind their attacks. Like the frog enemy may suddenly do a tongue attack at times, but will only do so if you are close enough for it to trigger. For bosses, they can either have a specific pattern for attacks or have a specific animation to tell what they are about to do. As such, fighting enemies and bosses is not typically a chore. Quests themselves also help to keep gameplay variety.

Quests are where the majority of EXP and gold are received from. They can range from merely going from point A to point B, to gathering a certain amount of items, and protecting civilians. For the most part, the requirements to complete a quest are lenient. The actual main concern is the time limit. For some quests, particularly if you are playing single-player, the time limit can be exceptionally tight. If you don’t rush for the goal, you might merely have a minute or so to spare. Combined with at times bulky enemies, this aspect of the game can be rather annoying.

Unfortunately, the game’s progression can require a bit of extra work. The EXP granted from defeating enemies is typically merely a fraction of the EXP gained in a quest. Even then, much of the time completing a quest typically won’t give a level up even if your level is that suggested for the quest. What makes the issue worse is that you can only keep accessories and weapons found if you have successfully completed the quest. If you are having a difficult time completing quests, either due to running out of lives or time, minimal progress will be made. Even if you can complete quests in one go, it feels like you have to do every quest available to even keep up with the level curve. It would be best if enemies gave better EXP as to not have players feel they have to grind slowly to level up or do every quest imaginable just to complete the game.

Graphically, this is one of the best looking sprite based titles I’ve seen in quite a while. This came as no surprise to me when I found that the character designer was Toru Nakayama, known for his work on the Megaman Zero franchise. Throw in graphics designer Hirokatsu Maeda, who worked on the Gunvolt series and Blaster Master Zero, and it’s no wonder Dragon Marked for Death looks amazing.

The character designs are richly detailed and you can customize your avatar with a few colors. Enemy models are equally impressive, especially some of the bosses. That first big ogre you fight is massive and he bites the head off some guy right off the bat. I think the most impressive thing are the actual levels themselves. Some span many areas, from forest to caves, and onward to castle interiors. They are all masterfully crafted and look amazing. It really makes you want to explore each level thoroughly, not to loot items, but to take in all the amazing level design.

The soundtrack here is top notch. Most of the tracks are a mix of something you’d find in a medieval fantasy movie and a classic samurai film. The two styles mix together very well, and I found myself humming along often as I laid waste to all of the foes before me. The sound effects are pretty much what you would expect for a title like this, and you can customize the voice of your created avatar. While a few more voice choices would’ve been welcome, there is enough here to get the job done.

Combat here is your typical side scrolling hack ‘n slash. You will run around slicing up all enemies in your path. You do have some dragon skills that will allow you to do things like guard attacks, gives you some buffs or restore a bit of HP. You can also hold down the attack button to charge up for larger attacks. These usually cover more ground and do lots of damage. The odds are very much stacked against you most of the time. This is where the items you brought with you really save your bacon. The enemies will also drop some items that may fix your status aliments, give buffs or maybe even restore a bit of HP. This is all about luck and ironically, your luck stat plays into how often you get drops.

Now, this game is meant to be played with other players. Indeed, the game is best played with other people as it makes the time limit and bulky enemies much less of an issue. Having played with another online, it’s safe to say that the game runs smoothly as ever with very few issues. There was rarely a hint of lag while playing, not to mention the game’s balance became much more appropriate. That said, there were times where the other player would just disappear from the screen but was still registered on the minimap. This hasn’t affected the gameplay at all, but it was a notable visual issue hinting at an improper connection. The main issue in the end however is not so much the multiplayer itself, but rather that the game is specifically balanced around multiplayer. This is why single player is not as balanced. What could’ve been done is that if played in single player, the game merely auto-adjusts values to level the playing field.

The problem I found with the fighter classes is they simply take too much damage. The weapons have little range, so you have to be up close and personal with monsters to take them out. You do way more damage than the ranged fighters, but item management and effective dodging are very much key to staying alive. Though in general, this game is not really all that much fun in single player because of the difficulty. I highly recommended you play this one with friends via local multiplayer or the internet. Having even just one more party member that is ranged class makes a huge difference. You basically cancel out each others weaknesses and can fight as one well-oiled machine. Marisa and I played this quite a bit online and there was zero lag, and we had no issues finding each other to party up. Honestly, this is one of the smoothest online experiences I’ve had.

While I think Dragon Marked for Death isn’t balanced very well for a single player game, I think the online play more than makes up for that. There is a ton of quest variety, the levels have tons of depth and the game is just simply a blast to play with a friend. I’m not even a big fan of multiplayer games like this, and if I had more time I’d still be playing right now. I think the amount of quests here and replay value more than justify the inexpensive entry price, and hack and slash fans should grab a friend and be all over this one.

[easyreview cat1title=”Overall” cat1detail=”” cat1rating=”4.0″]

Game provided by the publisher for review purposes.

REVIEW: Dragon Marked for Death Title Dragon Marked for Death

[ninaahelvar]

3 times Owen wants to kiss Claire + 1 time they actually kiss

Prompt from @dwayne-cirocjohnson: “You’re my roommate who’s super cute and it’s the middle of the night and you’re cramming for your exams in your flannel pajamas and disheveled hair and it’s becoming increasingly hard for me not to kiss you”

AO3

A/N: I fell into this prompt and just....everything is wonderful my friends. Have fun. (also, shout out to @scoundrels-in-love for being my beta today - true saviour) 

1.

Claire always liked to cram for exams right up until the last possible minute. Owen found this out the hard way when he went for a glass of water near midnight and saw the redhead. On the couch, her laptop screen shining with a blue ominous glow and her glasses hanging low as she was hunched in a weird position as she read. The only way Owen could describe it was a sort of gollum-like position. Admittedly, the sight was enough to shock him into shouting and collapsing against the wall. But it became almost regular around finals. Owen understood.

It became a regular thing. The messy buns, two pairs of glasses on her head, the famous study pjs with their flannel design, and pens shoved into the bands of her hair. She was a mess and all their friends said so. So, why was it, that Owen found her so goddamn irresistible? He saw her on her good days, the days where she wore the skirts and the jumpers, hair done perfectly and everything on her person in order for classes. Claire was the picture of perfection when she went to class and studying for tests during the semester. Then, the finals came, and she turned into a disaster.

Owen wasn’t sure what it was. He only been in one of her classes in the first semester; that’s how they met. Owen was her partner in an assignment, and yeah they didn’t really get on much, but he thought she was fun, for the most part. When she was complaining one day in class about her dorm room, Owen suggested that they get an apartment together. And yeah, he was seeing someone at the time, so it wasn’t a huge deal. Until they broke up and Owen realised that the feisty roommate of his was breaking him slowly, making him fall ridiculously hard for her. All their friends knew it. But no one said anything about it.

After Owen had changed majors and their courses became different, Claire and Owen saw each other less during the day, but always spent their nights together in their little apartment. When Owen came home from work, he found the lights turned on, save for the single blaring light of a laptop screen. It was a tough one, because he also heard the soft puffs of air of a slumbering Claire. He rounded the corner to their living area, and found her hanging over the side of the couch, cozying up on a pillow.

Her exam was two days away, and she was nervous. Hell, Owen was nervous too and he wasn’t even taking the class. It was only mid semester exams, but she was stressing about it like it was the end of it all. Owen sighed, bending down at the side of the side of the couch and watching as the little breaths became a perfect pattern. God, he thought everything about her was perfect, didn’t he? It wasn’t fair. Owen let his head hang before looking back at her.

It was the first time he’d ever thought about it, wondered if he could. Wondered if he could kiss her. It was a selfish thought, letting himself indulge it, imagining her slight response before they let themselves sink into something more.

Owen reached out, fingers tentative to even dare it. The lonely strands of hair, falling just inside the rim of her glasses were tempting, just ready to be moved, and for Owen’s fingers to just be close to her, if only for a second. He tried to nudge them aside, but the tickle of her hair against her face spooked Claire awake.

“I’d never cheat!” she yelled, clutching the edge of the couch, then looking at Owen as he looked at her, confused, “what?” she asked, flicking the hair out of her face and pushing her glasses up her nose.

“You...think about taking exams when you sleep?” Owen grinned, trying to suppress the laugh, but it fell easily, escaping him so much he had to fall back on his ass just to let the laugh out fully.

“Shut up,” Claire muttered, kicking his foot. She yawned, taking her laptop and moving the only source of light to her room. Still, the everpresent glow around her, even when she lazily smiled back at him before shutting the door, Owen had the overwhelming urge to chase after her, following that smile with a kiss until she lay comfortably. With his knees rising, he rested his arms on them, watching her door for a moment before getting up and making himself a snack before bed. He shuffled off, and let himself think about the messy red hair that made him wonder about the likelihood of college romances lasting beyond these formative years.

2.

Maybe it was blue balls; maybe because he hadn’t gotten laid in months was why he couldn’t stop picturing himself with Claire. He was desperate to kiss her, just to be able to taste her lips like so many others had. They sat across from each other at their breakfast table, textbooks and laptops scattered across it, the clear line between the two courses showing in how much text was on each page or the slideshows that flickered through on laptop screens.

Claire tapped her foot against the leg of the table, fiddling with her earring as she wrote things down in her notebook. She was completely in the zone. Owen was supposed to be taking notes, but foolishly he was staring. He had a nasty habit of that. It felt so idiotic to just fall for her constantly, but he was a fool. Reaching up to her hair, she pulled out another pen and placed the one in her hand in her mouth. He couldn’t describe why or how, but it felt beautiful to watch her so something so ridiculous. He had a goofy grin on his face when Claire looked up at him. He lost it quickly, feeling the rising heat on his cheeks.

“You know,” Claire started, putting her pens down, “if you keep getting distracted by the wall, you won’t be able to ace your animal behaviours class,” she joked, but at least she didn’t notice he was staring at her.

“You know that’s my major, why do you have to make me nervous?” Owen replied, trying to dig back into his work.

“To keep you on your toes, Grady,” Claire laughed, and it made Owen stop again. He wanted to hear her laugh more, the squeak of a laugh, the snorting as she really enjoyed herself. He liked all of the weirdness that radiated from her.

“How’s business going?” he asked.

“I am exhausted,” Claire groaned, burying her face into her papers as Owen laughed, “but if he doesn’t give me extra marks on this presentation, I am going to sue,” she said, gripping tightly to her pens, picking them back up.

“I’m sure you know how at this stage,” Owen said, leaning forward, “and there’s no way he taught you that ‘cause Professor Finn is scared of you,” he smiled. Claire pointed her pen at Owen, eyes narrowing on him.

“You know me too well.”

“We have been living together for like a year and a half,” he chuckled.

“Yeah but you also had a girlfriend. Didn’t think you’d notice me,” Claire commented, pulling a textbook forward.

“It’d be impossible not to notice you,” he confessed, before smirking, “gollum.” Owen bit into his lip, stopping the laugh, but his shoulder still shook as he couldn’t help it flutter out. Claire threw her textbook forward.

“That was one time,” she yelled.

“Sure. And what are you going to say this time? You were doing it to exercise your back? Oh no wait, that was your bullshit excuse last time!” he challenged and Claire pushed her chair out from under her, trying to round the table.

“Oh come here, you’re dead,” she called out, and Owen was already up, keeping a distance between them, as well as their kitchen island.

“Your exam is in three weeks! If you kill me, you’ll need to fit my body disposal and cover up all in the middle of your very tight schedule,” he tried to reason, knowing full well that Claire had every last minute of her days up until her exam planned to a tee. If he messed that up, he would be just as dead. And it stopped her. She smiled and giggled, rolling her eyes.

“I hate that you actually have a point,” she muttered, combing her fingers through her hair. She pushed off the kitchen island, moving back to the breakfast table. “I’m killing you after the finals,” she pointed at him, before dragging her textbook back to her.

“I don’t feel like this is going to go well in my favour, so hopefully your mind palace like brain forgets to do it,” he chuckled, getting a can of energy drink from fridge and drinking some of it before going to sit down.

“You’re right again. Can’t say I’ll remember your name by the end of these three weeks. It may become less important to me,” she smirked, digging herself back into the mess of her project.

“You...wound me, Claire,” he gasped, walking back to his chair and sitting back down. Claire looked up from her work, leaning forward with a challenge set into her shoulders.

“Oh no, what are you going to do about it?” she smirked. The look in her eyes, the teasing notion in her voice - it was like she knew what she was doing. And all Owen could think of was surging forward, knocking everything to the ground just to kiss her. She was testing him, and he was damn near about to fail; fall for the easy trap that she set for him. Owen could do it, push the table aside, kiss her swiftly as they fell to the floor, rolling in each other’s embrace as their kiss lasted as long as she would allow him.

“You’re awful,” he said, resigning into his chair and hated the fact that he wished for more than just playful banter.

Falling for her was becoming the worst thing for him. But he loved it anyway.

3.

“Hey, come on, we gotta go,” Owen nudged Claire. Of course she fell asleep at the library, she only had a few days until the exam of her life and she was neglecting a few things. The beanie that was never usually worn was on her head, hiding the fact that her hair had been unwashed in a few days. Owen kept her company, giving her focus questions and timing her mock exams. Claire went over everything, over and over again, Owen reading out words, and Claire telling him the meaning of them all. They were there from late afternoon to middle of the night. She was brain dead - the type of brain dead where words were repeated and sentences were never finished or the soft asking of “you know?” to the confusion of everyone around. Owen knew she was struggling, and it was time to get out of there.

Gathering up all her notes how she’d want them, putting them in her bags and hitching them up on his shoulder, pulling Claire to her feet as she groaned. “The business model,” she started, mumbling something that was unintelligible. Owen scoffed out a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, helping her to walk,  “we’re heading home,” he told her, as Claire linked her arm with his, walking in time with him. Her eyes were shut and her head rested on him in her drowsy state.

They walked along the sidewalk, walking back to their apartment peacefully and the night air changing to bring in cooler winds.

“Food,” she grumbled, clutching at her stomach.

“I’ll get Chinese,” Owen whispered to her, the urge to press his lips to the top of her head as he smiled was overwhelming. He liked the wholesome stuff, the stuff that may be simple and mundane, but a treasure in the heart of someone in love.

“Yay,” she said monotoned. Claire could have tried for enthusiasm, but Owen was sure that every last brain cell was used to its capacity; crammed to the brim.

They missed the lights to cross, having to wait through the mounting traffic that did not ease. Owen huffed, pulling the bags up on his shoulder again, but as he shifted, Claire had become comfortable. So, she did what she always did, she cuddled closer to thing providing the comfort. It was Owen, in this case. He still, looking down at her, watching as she smiled as she held onto his arm and her weight shift into him easily.

With her head resting on his shoulder, the light still not telling them to cross, Owen could savour the moment with her. A snapshot of all that he wanted; something more than friendship, a lust for love found within the other. He hated that he was hopeless romantic sometimes. Though he was awful at it, he still kind of wanted the whole show, to treat a woman right, to hold her hand and kiss her whenever and however she wanted. He may not succeed all the time, but god, he’d try every goddamn day for Claire.

But he never pushed past the step that crossed them over, that tilted their roommate status from friends to lovers.  To have Claire Dearing in your life, it was like a miracle. He’d seen how people had fucked up their relationship with her, how they did something that she couldn’t stand to be around, to let them stay. Owen never wanted to be a statistic that would hurt Claire. And he knew damn well she knew how many people had done her wrong.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen the worst of it when her past boyfriend left.

He hated that she cried at night.

And that comforting her felt so wrong, that he let her sit in her room all night.

The lights sounded, and they continued just another block to their apartment. And all the while, Owen hated that they were moving so fast. He didn’t get his moment to wake her with a kiss as they walked up the stairs, or hold her by their front door as she giggled with the little snort when she became overwhelmed with the feeling in her chest, kiss her in the midst of it. Owen missed his chance to kiss her goodnight at her door, or kiss her goodnight in a bed that they would share. And Owen lay awake, wondering Claire had wanted ever thought of him like he thought of her.

+1

Owen was waiting outside the exam building, knowing Claire’s exam was over any minute. His animal behaviour exam was done with the day before, and he was excited that he and Claire were free. He had a bar of chocolate, wine and Ben and Jerry’s ice cream all waiting back at the apartment; he wanted to pick Claire up in case it didn’t go as well as they both planned.

A few minutes more, and the courtyard was filling with students, some more defeated than others, but he could see Claire straight away. Her hair was bright that day, actually washed because of course she needed to feel fresh and alert for her exam. Owen made sure he didn’t have any alarms that would wake her before she needed. He missed his workout in the morning, but he felt like he deserved it after the exam.

Claire was walking aimlessly, clicking things on her phone until she saw him waving ridiculously hard to gain her attention. Suddenly, she broke into a large smile that made Owen’s heart ache. Racing over, Owen watched as she avoided bumping into people, her hair flicking back and forth as she ran.

Jumping straight into his arms, Owen staggered back, his face soon burying into the crook of her neck as she squealed out of joy. Claire was no longer on her feet and Owen only really noticed when he could turn without the encumbrance of her feet holding them still. Owen basked in the feeling for as long as he could before letting her fall to her feet, still glowing in a joyous way as she was practically hopping with excitement. As she stared up at him, Owen couldn’t help but think about how easy it would be to kiss her, how normal it would feel. Claire ducked her head, fixing hair behind her ear before she looked back at him.

“I think I passed,” she smiled, letting out a sigh of relief.

“That’s awesome!” Owen said, pulling her in for another hug before letting room between them once more.

“And you’re to thank,” she said, nudging his arm.

“Okay, that’s a lie,” he scoffed, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“You stayed up with me and helped me study,” she started, “made sure I ate and slept right. You were there for me and I just…” Claire’s words trailed off, as though she couldn’t voice something within her or lost herself in thought.

Owen laughed again, “Me? Helping? Claire, you did everything, I was just that roommate that never lets you live down that time you were gollum and scared the cr-”

Before Owen could finish his sentence or react, Claire was on her toes, hand on the back of his neck as she pulled him down to her. Their lips met in a soft and nervous pairing. They were unsure at first before Claire stepped into him, deepening the kiss to how she liked. And he realised...she was kissing him. He wasn’t dreaming, because he could taste the subtle stain of coffee on her lips and could feel the slight shake in her hand as she bound it into his jacket. They parted, but Claire barely stepped away from him. “Thanks, Owen,” she beamed, and Owen blinked, unable to find the words.

“I...uh…”

“God, that took us long enough, didn’t it?” she laughed, her hand slipping down to his, fingers intertwining, and that giant smile of hers was blinding him to sense. All he could do was nod as she laughed and leaned into him, holding him close and not letting him slip from her slight embrace. They began walking, though Owen felt slow, as though the walk itself was helping him catch up.

“Did you just -”

“Yep,” Claire replied.

“And are we going to da-”

“Yep,” she confirmed once again.

“Okay,” he nodded, “I like that,” he said, finally being able to kiss at the top of her head, arm draped over her shoulder as her hand reached up to tangle her fingers with his own.

Back at their apartment, Claire put down her purse on the kitchen island and turned back to Owen. “Hey, you know that time we were arguing about me being gollum?” she asked. Owen looked at her, nodding and smiling to her.

“Yeah? You were getting super competitive,” he said, putting his keys down near her bag. But she stepped away, a playful hop away from him. His eyes narrowed on her.

“Yeah, ‘cause I wanted you to kiss me, Owen,” she said, backing away from him slowly. He knew what she was doing this time.

“What?” he said, just as Claire walked slowly away, looking over her shoulder with a sly smile. “Wait, no, you can’t just walk off like that,” he said, moving forward.

“What are you going to do about it?” she asked, her brow raising and Owen smirked, surging forward and chasing Claire swiftly. She squeaked when he finally caught up, both of them collapsing to the couch, kissing and giggling with the joy of everything. He was glad he finally got to kiss her. It was everything he could have imagined and more.

God, he’s so glad he messed up his first semester classes.

[maevefiction]

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 22

Midway through my Chicken Ambrosia the adrenaline high wore off, and I hastily excused myself in order to rush headlong to the ladies room as panic set in. I locked the door behind me and sank slowly to the floor, not giving a single thought as to its cleanliness. The shakes began, my entire body shuddering and quivering, ears ringing and vision blurring. Images of Will cycled through my mind’s eye, like a poorly coded website slideshow that shifted too quickly and transitioned awkwardly, harshly jerking from one photo to the next. Scenes from when we were together, snapshots of the altercation at the viewing. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop them, couldn’t turn them off. Eyes open or closed, there they were.

Doubt overwhelmed me, about what I’d done tonight, and before. About how this would affect Tom once the media latched onto any of it. More than anything else, I felt ashamed. Ashamed of what a shambles I’d allowed my life to become back then, ashamed that I’d never had the balls to face up to it until now, ashamed that my choice of partner had been so abysmal.  

Memories of our intimacies surfaced, causing me to feel desecrated and profane. Though short in stature, Will had been attractive when we met, exotic, with a borderline androgyny many men proudly displayed in the late nineties. The beauty that appeared on the outside, unfortunately, was not an accurate depiction of what lay on the inside. Perhaps I’d been too shallow to smell the rotten underneath the surface, or just too damaged. Or too drunk. A composite of all three, maybe. And for the love of all things holy, as well as all things not, how hadn’t I noticed how thoroughly and consummately unintelligent he was?

None of that mattered, I supposed, because if he decided to take any of this to the press, the only thing the public would be presented with was a very carefully selected unflattering video or photograph of the man, with a caption that went something like ‘Tom Hiddleston’s girlfriend, Maude Gallagher, assaults former husband, Will Bonaventura, at mother’s wake’. I could only hope that his lack of wit would prevent him from considering such a thing as a means of vengeance, but such hope was almost certainly false, as he’d always been clever enough to take advantage of anyone and anything that crossed his path if he deemed it beneficial to him in some way.

“Maude, for a smart woman, you sure manage to do some seriously dumb shit. What the fuck were you thinking? Goddess, my ass. More like village idiot.”

There was a knock at the door, and I was about to yell ‘occupied, be out in a minute’ when I heard Tom’s voice, muted but strong, on the other side.

“Maude? Everything okay?”

It wasn’t, but I didn’t think it appropriate to shout out that I was fucked up and in need of a cocktail, so I dragged myself off the tile, stood and unlocked the door. Upon opening it the noise of the band hit me full force my brain’s response was ‘Maude, we need to get the fuck OUT of New Orleans RIGHT NOW’.

Tom’s expression shifted from mildly concerned to genuinely worried upon seeing me, and he gently walked me backward as he pushed his way into the room. Hands on my shoulders, he bent and met my gaze directly, speaking softly.

“What’s wrong, love?”

My eyes squeezed shut as I shook my head, back and forth, back and forth, like a metronome. He leaned into me, body warm against mine.

“Maude, talk to me. Let me help.”

A sigh escaped me as I opened my eyes and found his face inches from mine, his breath on my lips.

“I fucked up, Tom. Royally. Like, really, really seriously fucked up.”

His head tilted to the left, a hand reaching up to smooth my hair back from my forehead. “I don’t believe that for a moment.”

I laughed, a hollow, near-maniacal sound. “I can’t believe it myself, but I did so nonetheless. What I did was so, so stupid. Universally stupid. I wasn’t thinking of anyone but ME. So, so selfish. And STUPID.”

Frowning, he leaned back so his weight was no longer on me, then rested his hands on my hips. “You are not stupid. Or selfish.”

Shaking my head again, I threw my hands up in the air at shoulder level. “Oh, but I am. What happened with Will. Epic mistake. Beyond epic. I didn’t stop to think about the consequences of my actions. Me. ME! Miss social media and PR expert. I didn’t, not for one single fucking second, stop to consider what effect my assaulting him could have on YOU, Tom. We go public with our relationship yesterday, so we’re totally on the radar, and then I proceed to punch my ex-husband in the face and knee him in the balls. In public. With YOU THERE. If he goes to the press with this…my GOD. You have an impeccable, scandal-free reputation, and I may have ruined it in the space of twenty minutes. Christ, what the fuck am I going to tell LUKE? He should fucking fire me…how will this make HIM look? Fucking hell!”

“Maude.”

“What? Even if he leaves out the assault part…BOOM, it’s public knowledge that I’ve been married before, and to whom, plus the rest will all just come out with it, or shortly thereafter. Because I just HAD to shoot off my big fucking mouth to settle a nearly decades old score with someone who means NOTHING to me. Pointless. Stupid. I’ve failed you completely, on a professional AND personal level.”

“MAUDE.”

“WHAT?!” Realizing I’d raised my voice to an unacceptable level for a public restroom, I cringed. “Shit. Let’s try…what?”

“Step back from this. View it as if we’re both your clients and you’re completely outside of it all.”

“But I’m not.”

Both of Tom’s eyebrows rose as he took my hands in his, but he remained silent.

“Okay. Fine. Poof…I’m an outside observer.”

“Now, what advice do you have for us? If we leave this restaurant, or if we arrive at the funeral tomorrow, and the place is crawling with reporters…what do we do?”

“I…Maude…answers their questions. She needs to be truthful. She might want to consider presenting an abridged version of her story. How old she was when she married him, under what circumstances, and that she found out he was cheating on her with her mother and then filed for divorce. That he married her mother as soon as it was final. No need to mention more than that unless pressed. If the assault comes up, she should say punching him was out of line, but that kicking him in the balls was self-defense because he lunged at her. Maybe blame the punch on grieving and stress. You should…”

He interrupted me. “I’ll stand with you, hold your hand, and be honest, no matter what I’m asked.”

I shook my head. “I was going to say you should just remain in the background, actually. Or not be there at all.”

“Not happening.”

My jaw tightened as I tried to hold back the thoughts I’d decided to keep to myself, to no avail. “Thomas. As much as I appreciate your wanting to be supportive, let’s be real…part of you has to be embarrassed, if not downright disgusted, by the fact that I was married to that man. As well as re-evaluating my so-called intelligence, and perhaps my sanity, because I willingly chose such a partner. God knows I am. Though in my defense, I was drunk for essentially the entire duration of our relationship.”

The laughter began in his chest, slowly working its way upward, finally bursting forth from the mouth he’d been fighting desperately to keep closed. My eyes narrowed as a frown contorted my features.

“Maude. Good Christ. I’m sorry, it’s not really funny, but…” He inhaled sharply through his nose, then exhaled through his mouth as he attempted to contain himself, his expression turning earnest. “Maude. Are you embarrassed or disgusted by MY poor choice of previous partners? Not exactly cream of the crop, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“No. Of course I’m not. I’d like to dispatch them without prejudice, but disgusted? No. Not with you, anyway. And as far as embarrassment…they should be the ones who feel that way because of their behavior.”

He rested his forehead on mine, leaning against me once more. “Well, there you go. That’s precisely how I feel as well.”

“Good. But you should know that that I’m disgusted with myself over it. And I’m not just embarrassed…I’m MORTIFIED. I mean I slept…”

His lips on mine interrupted me, warm and wet, his mouth tasting of fennel and wine. He’d hesitated when it was offered, but accepted a glass when I squeezed his thigh under the table, only taking a few sips when Barty proposed a toast, then a few more with dinner. I pulled my hands from his, reaching behind him to grab his ass and propel his pelvis forward. The whine that escaped him was exquisite, and I felt him fully harden against me.

Breaking the kiss, I whispered in his ear. “What’s the matter? Hand job in the car not enough to tide you over until after dinner?”

He answered, the sound somewhere between a growl and a broken moan. “Noooo.”

My tongue traced the shell of his ear, then in behind it, stopping to lave at the spot behind his earlobe that would inevitably make him squirm. “Would you like to fuck me, Thomas? Right here? Right now?”

His hands rolled my dress above my waist, panties absent, having been previously sacrificed to clean us up in the car. I unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and slipped them down over his hips, resting my hands there, thumbs on the indentations just below his belly button. He grabbed my left leg at the knee and lifted, weight pressing me against the brick wall as I wrapped it around his waist and he entered me, sinking in to the hilt as he began to thrust urgently.

“Your hand on me was thrilling, Maude, but nothing, NOTHING can compare to your pussy. Being inside you. So hot. So wet. Clamping down on me…”

I squeezed, and his words morphed into a long, low moan that I smothered with my lips, sucking his tongue into my mouth. His movements grew rougher as he pounded into me, grunting like an animal, and I came, walls clenching around him, trying my damnedest to be quiet. He buried his face in my neck to muffle his own cries, hands cupping my ass and clasping me to him.

We remained still for several moments until his chuckling tickled my neck, and when I began to fidget he raised his head to meet my gaze. “You weren’t kidding about the heels making it easier to fuck you standing up.”

There was a knock on the door, and, frankly, I was surprised it hadn’t happened sooner. I grabbed some toilet paper, mopped up what I could, then pulled my dress down. Tom zipped himself up and began washing his hands. When the knocking sounded again, this time firmer, I replied loudly.

“Sorry, be right out!”

There was no answer, and as I washed my hands and began drying them, Tom unlocked the door and opened it. I peered past him to see a startled young woman, skin the color of mocha, eyes a glowing amber, with black, spectacularly curly hair reaching her shoulders, looking as if she’d seen a ghost.

His face wasn’t visible to me, but I knew the megawatt smile was firmly in place.

“Terribly sorry for the delay. My girlfriend wasn’t feeling very well, I’m afraid.”

She gave him some serious side eye as I peeked over his shoulder. “Yep. I feel much better now, though.”

She laughed, a deep, rich, melodic sound, then looked Tom up and down. “Oh honey, I’m damn sure you do.”

We exited with as much dignity as we could muster, and the woman was still laughing as the door closed behind her. On our walk back to the table, Tom snuck in a slap to my left ass cheek just as my right foot was about to land on the floor. It knocked me off balance, and the heel of my right shoe hit the tile at the wrong angle, slipping out from under me and turning my ankle in the process. Down I went, like a sack of potatoes right in the middle of the restaurant, just a few feet from where Anne and Barty were sitting. Tom was squatting at my side in an instant, panic in his eyes. My first thought was ‘fuck, I hope my cooter isn’t hanging out’, but it was quickly replaced with ‘fucking ow ow ow OWWWWW’ when I shifted and my right ankle moved, sending white-hot, searing pain shooting through me.

Tom ran his right hand through his hair, then leaned in to examine me more closely as he got on his knees. “I’m a fucking IDIOT. Are you all right? Fuck. What am I saying?! I know you’re not all right…I saw your face just then when you moved your foot. Is it broken? Oh my god, I am so, so, so sorry…” He’d begun to tear up as he reached in his pocket for his phone. “Do you need an ambulance? Let me call for help.”

I grabbed his wrist. “Hiddleston, don’t you DARE dial 911. There is no way I’m leaving here on a stretcher. Take off both my shoes and help me up. Please.”

His bottom jaw moved to the right, eyes still on mine, color drained from his face. “You’re hurt, and we don’t know how badly. You shouldn’t do anything without obtaining the opinion of a medical professional first.” Lowering his chin to his chest, he continued to berate himself, mumbling about how stupid he was, that he’d acted like an overgrown thirteen year old and now look what he’d done. I could see his pulse pounding in his neck, and the rapidness of his respirations began to worry me…I was all too familiar with the symptoms of an anxiety attack, that was for fucking sure.

My hand left his wrist and settled on his chest, over his heart. “Tom. It’s okay. I’m okay. It’s just a sprained ankle. Not my first one, either. It’s okay. You’re okay. I love you. Breathe, baby. Breathe. Nice and slow.” I watched him inhale through his nose and exhale via his mouth several times. “That’s it. There you go. Everything’s fine.”

A few nearby tables were staring, and Anne and Barty had made their way over to us. I held my other hand up and proceeded to address the nearby onlookers from my spot on the floor, nearly shouting to be heard over the band.

“Apologies for the disruption. Sprained my ankle. Everything’s cool. High heels are NOT my thing. Party on, folks.” There were shrugs, raised glasses and a few verbal well wishes as everyone went about their business.

Anne pointed at my ankle. “That’s already swelling, kiddo. Looks like you’re going to need a trip to the ER.”

Tom had placed his hand over mine, and when I glanced back at him I observed that most of his color had come back. I made a half-hearted attempt at taking off my own shoe, but he sprang into action and removed the one from my good ankle first, then set about doing the same for the injured one. I winced at his touch, and he cringed.

“Yank it right off, dude. Fast. Please.”

He nodded, and I had to bite my lip to keep myself from screeching like a banshee as he pulled it over my heel and off my foot. When I caught sight of his crestfallen face, I prodded it with my tongue and tasted blood. Barty brought over a chair.

“Here ya go, son. I’ll help you get her up, all right?”

Tom shook his head. “Thanks, Barty, but we’ll be fine.” With that, he positioned himself on my right side, squatting again. “What’s the way to do this so it will hurt the least, love?”  

“Stand above me, in front of me, and lift me up by my armpits? I’ll use my left leg for support. It might not hurt less, but at least my dress will stay…down.”

It was a challenge, but we pulled it off in one try, and he lowered me to the chair as if I was a fragile piece of china. Kneeling in front of me, hands on my thighs, he smiled gently. “I’m going to go and bring the car round to the front entrance, okay?” I nodded, and he stood, kissing my forehead along the way.

“I’ll be right back.” A mischievous smile. “Don’t go anywhere.”

My eyes rolled back into my head. “Well, I had been contemplating a nice long run, but…”

Anne brought some ice from the bar and tried to get me to put my leg up on another chair, but I refused. The ankle felt fine just as it was, mainly because I was holding my leg so my foot remained suspended an inch above the floor, and I knew if I moved even one iota that would change in a most unpleasant way. Tom was back in three minutes flat, gracefully navigating his way through the tables toward me. He stood to my left, bent over halfway, slipped his left arm under my knees and the other around my upper back, hand in my armpit.

“Arms around my neck, please.”

“Ummmm…are you planning on carrying me out of here?”

There was no reply, only the sensation of him beginning to lift me. I rolled my eyes again as I wound my arms around his neck. Anne and Barty went out ahead of us to assist with the doors, and the entire restaurant stared as Tom carried me through the building and out the front, and there were smatterings of applause and several whistles.

When we reached the car he set me down so my back was towards the door opening. Balancing on my left leg and using my arms to slow my descent, I managed to sit down and twist to the side, but my injured ankle remained up in the air and outside the vehicle. Tom bent my right leg at the knee, eased the car seat back as far as it could go, then worked my leg slowly into place. When my foot touched the floor I grabbed the sides of the seat, muttering ‘fuck me’ as I held it up again, and Tom ran back into the building.

Anne leaned down, passed me my bag and heels, then stuck her head inside. “Maude, honey…that man is a keeper if I ever saw one. You know that already, though, don’t you?”

“I do.”

She smiled. “Good. The way the two of you look at each other…it makes me want to write romance novels.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You already write romance novels. Granted, the romances are often dark, disturbed, misplaced, unrequited and thoroughly inappropriate…but still. It’s romance.”

Her mouth opened to comment, then closed without saying a word as Tom returned, several small, white towels in hand. He grinned.

“From the kitchen. Only cost me one selfie.” He placed them on the floor in a pile, fluffed them up, and I set my foot down gingerly. The pain was tolerable.

“Nicely done, Hiddleston. Thank you.”

He kissed my briefly, buckled my seatbelt and closed my door. As soon as he got in the driver’s seat and started the car, I opened my window to say goodbye to Anne, then Barty, whom I advised that I’d decided to have him handle all the mortgage bullshit in my absence, as well as any other crap that might come up. He said handling shit was his specialty, laughing as we pulled away.

**************************************** Tulane Medical Center was the closest emergency facility, located approximately 2 miles from Palm Court. Tom wanted to carry me in, but I sent him along on his own to find a staff member to bring out a wheelchair for me instead. Getting out of the car sucked balls, but being pushed around was oddly relaxing. Registration was first, and there wasn’t anyone else waiting, which I took as a good indication that we might be out of there before tomorrow morning. Then came the vitals check, and I could tell that the attending nurse recognized Tom, mainly from the way her hands shook when she took my blood pressure, periodically sneaking looks in his direction and clearing her throat. She escorted us to an exam room that more resembled a pastel holding cell, where we were instructed to wait for further assistance after I hefted myself onto the exam bed. Another nurse appeared immediately, early forties, short, blonde and plump, dressed in light pink scrubs with hearts on them. Her voice was entirely too cheerful, whipping the rainbow sorbet colored curtain shut behind her but leaving the stainless and glass sliding door open.

“How we all doin’ tonight? I’m Sharon. I just have a few questions for you, and Dr. Luthra will be along shortly, all right?”

I nodded. “Hi, Sharon. I’m Maude, and this is Tom.” He was seated in a chair across the room. As I pointed in his direction I noticed that he’d removed his tie and undone the first three buttons of his shirt. I bit my lip, and it stung as the cut there reopened.

Sharon smiled widely. “Nice to meet you both.” Her eyes moved to the chart in her hand, then back up to my face. “So, took a spill, did you?”

“Oh yeah. Three inch heels. Lost my balance. Fell in front of the packed to capacity crowd at the Palm Court Café. Though I think my ankle hurts worse than my pride, for the moment.”

She patted my shoulder. “You poor thing. The tortures we endure to make ourselves pretty!” Her head shook back and forth, and she walked to the foot of my bed to examine my injury.

“Hoo boy, that is swollen. Lie back, please.” She lowered the head of the bed until it was flat, then raised the foot as high as it could go. “I know that feels odd, but keeping the ankle above the heart will reduce the swelling. Dr. Luthra’s going to want an X-ray for sure. Now, how would you rate your pain on a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst pain you’ve ever felt?”

“Right now, it’s a five. But when I put weight on it or move it around it’s an eight.”

Sharon marked her chart and nodded. “Currently taking any medications?”

“Yes. Birth control pills. Ortho Tri-Cyclen. I skip the placebos to suppress menstruation. Approved by my gynecologist.”

She frowned slightly, marking the chart again. I sighed, silently bemoaning how disappointing it was that women still got all fucking judgy about such things. Periods suck, and when you’re on the road all the time, they suck even harder. Why not make them go away? And why care about what I do? It’s my body, after all.  “Any allergies to medications?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

The smile had returned to her face, though now I knew that her jovialness was mostly an act. “That’s all for now. The doctor will be in as soon as he’s able.”

Tom got up and dragged the chair he’d been sitting in over to my bedside, turned so he could face me. I held out my hand.

“Hiya.”

He grasped it and squeezed gently. “Hello.” Lips brushed my knuckles. “Maude, I…”

The index finger of my other hand wagged at him. “If you’re going to apologize again, don’t. Shit happens. I could have just as easily wound up this way all on my own.”

The right corner of his mouth curled up in a tiny smile. “Okay. How about I thank you instead?”

“Umm, sure…for what, exactly?”

“It’s my fault you’re injured, and there you were, sprawled on the floor, hurting, and I just…lost it, I suppose. You knew exactly what to say, though. I felt better instantly, calm, ready to do what needed to be done. So thank you for that. I only wish I could alleviate your pain in a similar fashion.”

“You’re welcome. Anxiety and I go WAY back. I know how to shut that bitch down…”

At that moment, Dr. Luthra knocked on the outside of the room’s glass and entered. If I had to guess, he was barely my age. His hair was jet black, eyes a chocolate brown, and sported a neatly trimmed mustache.

“Miss Gallagher, I am Dr. Luthra. It is my understanding that you’ve injured your ankle. How is your pain?” I was unable to discern whether his accent was Indian or Pakistani, but it didn’t matter…it was beautiful, precise and somehow calming. Accents had always fascinated me…the same word, spoken in a completely different way, yet meaning the same thing. To me, they transformed language into music, and our whole world into an orchestra of verbalized thoughts.

“That’s correct. My pain is…eh.”

Dr. Luthra laughed. “Would you like something for it? We prefer to use non-narcotic…”

I interjected. “That’s fine by me. I prefer to not take them.”

He laughed again. “Oh, a tough cookie, are you? I’ll have the nurse come in with some Tramadol before you go, then. It will ease the pain and reduce swelling, which is very important, but normally has no effect on mental acuity. After tonight the maximum dose of ibuprofen should probably do the trick. Have you consumed any alcohol today?”

“Nope.”

“Good. Now, let me take a look at that ankle, okay?”

I nodded. Tom let go of my hand, got up from his chair and began to move it, trying to avoid being in the doctor’s way.

Dr. Luthra motioned him back down. “No, no, you’re fine there. Keep holding her hand. She’ll need to grab onto something, I’m thinking. I’m going to have to rotate the joint and push and prod to gauge the level of sprain, and then we’ll do an X-ray to be sure nothing is broken. If that is the case, I’ll then apply an aircast walking boot. Crutches may or may not be needed…we won’t know until we put on the boot.”

My hand flew up in the air as if I was in a classroom. “I’d like to apologize in advance for the long list of profanities that will soon be assaulting your ears, Dr. Luthra.”

“Thank you, Miss Gallagher. I appreciate the warning, and am hoping I hear something entirely new to me.”

Tom chortled. “There’s a very strong possibility that you will, Dr. Luthra.”

Three hours and a surprisingly minimal amount of swearing later, I was booted, on crutches and ready to get the fuck out of there. The diagnosis was either a first or second degree sprain…the only way to tell for sure was an MRI, which I refused. The boot would need to stay on everywhere but in the shower for at least seven days after wearing it for the first twenty-four hours straight, and whenever I was on my feet for another seven after that. If it didn’t seem to be healing by that point, I’d need to see an orthopedist and perhaps undergo physical therapy. Which sounded like a boatload of fun for my first two weeks in England. The nurse who assisted with the boot noticed that I had no shoes and brought me a surgical sock to wear so I wouldn’t have to wander around barefoot. I’d been on crutches the last time I’d sprained it, back in high school, and back then there was no boot, only an ace bandage wrap. The boot was pretty funky, black plastic with an air splint inside. I could almost put my full weight on it, but Dr. Luthra figured that was because of the Tramadol and instructed me to use the crutches anyway. Tom had paid close attention as to how to remove it, put it back on, and re-inflate the air bags because, despite the fact that it wasn’t supposed to, the Tramadol had made me more than a little loopy and my attention span was close to nil.

On the way to the car I yelled ‘whee’ every time my body swung between the crutches, which Tom graciously ignored, though he did load me into the vehicle and shut the door rather quickly. I whipped out my iPod and plugged it into the auxiliary jack, then turned to him as soon as he sat in the driver’s seat, giggling madly as he started the car.

“Tommy, do you know what time it is?”

“Oh, Tommy, am I? Yes, my love. I know what time it is. It’s approximately eleven twenty-seven. PM. Like it says there on the dashboard. ” He pointed at the lit-up digital clock.

I swiped at his arm, fingers barely brushing it. “No, no. Not THAT kind of time. THIS kind of time.” I cranked up the stereo volume and pressed play on my iPod. “It’s SKRILLEX time!”

The eleven minutes it took to get back to the hotel were probably some of the longest of his life, but he did seem to enjoy Ease My Mind and Breakin’ a Sweat. Kyoto, not so much. He even asked me nicely to skip it. Which I refused to do.

We took the elevator to our room, and I wound up requiring his assistance while changing clothes after getting my dress stuck on my head. After he wrangled me into a T-shirt and some underwear, I flopped on the bed and sang my favorite parts of Closer by Nine Inch Nails at the top of my lungs. He’d quickly stripped naked and slipped into his running shorts, but the T-shirt he’d intended to put on hung limp in his hand once I reached the chorus.

You can have my isolation You can have the hate that it brings You can have my absence of faith You can have my everything

Help me Tear down my reason Help me It’s your sex I can smell Help me You make me perfect Help me become somebody else

I want to fuck you like an animal I want to feel you from the inside I want to fuck you like an animal My whole existence is flawed You get me closer to god

Though it was a challenge, I managed to focus in on his face after he let the breath he’d been holding out in a loud whoosh, the sound stilling my voice. His eyes were closed, cock tenting his shorts, hand around the T-shirt now gripping it so firmly his knuckles were white. I stared, my eyes roaming all over his body, admiring his taut stomach, the curve of his chest, the freckles that peppered his skin. The bed creaked as I began to push myself off of it to go him, and his eyes flew open at the sound. At first, they were almost frighteningly dark with desire, but then he blinked several times, breathing deeply, and the next time our gazes locked they’d returned to normal.

He closed the distance between us and put his hands on my shoulders, pushing me back down on the bed. His voice was unevenly modulated, betraying the war waging within him. “You, my love, need to rest that ankle. I’m going to get some additional pillows from the loft bed, and then I’ll read to you, if you like.”

The reduced processing speed of my mind was astonishing. He’d brought back the pillows and situated me on the bed, lying me down with my leg propped up so it was above my heart, before I was able to formulate an answer.

“Yes. I’d like. Read to me.”

He settled in by my side, Interview with the Vampire in his hand, kissed me softly and began.

**************************************** It was Tom’s voice that had soothed me to sleep, and it was his voice again that awakened me. But this time, there was nothing at all soothing about it. As the fog of dreams slowly lifted, I realized he was on the phone.

“Mum. I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call, and I’m sorry I didn’t mention any of this to you. I was planning on bringing her to meet you in person after we got to London. I honestly don’t see…” A pause, then he spoke again, volume raised and obviously agitated. “That isn’t anyone’s business but ours, now, is it? And you’re divorced yourself…why would it matter to you in the slightest that she’s been married before?” Minutes of silence. “Oh, come on. She’s doesn’t need a dime from me, Mum. She’s got her own career, and her own money.” A long pause, his tone softening when the conversation resumed. “Listen, I appreciate that you care about me and want what’s best for me. So much. Yes, it’s sudden. Yes, it’s all happening incredibly fast. Yes, I do tend to jump headlong into things. I know that. But Mum…this is different. She’s different. This is it. Maude is…she’s…she’s the part of me that I’ve been missing all my life. The other half of my soul.” He’d gotten up from the desk chair, which he’d moved across the room. “No, I’m not overly romanticizing anything. That’s how I feel. And so does she, for which I am thankful beyond words. I can’t believe we’re having a row about this…it’s terrible. Trust my judgement, Mum, and don’t pass yours on her until you’ve had the opportunity to know her. That’s all I ask. Because this is the real deal. I’m asking her to move in with me, and I’m reasonably certain her answer won’t be no.” More silence. I shifted on the bed, and the damn thing creaked yet again. “Mum, I’ve got to go. Again, I’m very sorry you found out that I have a woman in my life because Emma saw it online. I love you. Talk to you soon.”

He hit the end call button, walked over to the bed and sat down next to me. “Good morning, gorgeous. How’s your ankle?”

I sat up, leaning back on my hands for support. “Hurts like hell. So…anything you’d like to tell me?”

Tom sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Nothing I’d like to tell you. But things I should tell you? Yes. How much of that did you hear?”

“Entirely too much.”

He bit his lip. “Okay, then. So, actually, there’s one thing I would like to tell you. Well, ask you, really. I was going to wait until we got to New York, but…I…erm…will…fuck, this is terrifying…no, no, not what…it’s… even though I think I know, what if you don’t…that’s what’s terrifying…”

“Thomas, are you attempting to ask me if I’d like for us to live together?”

His head lolled back, eyes closed. “Yes, thank you. Yes I am.”

“Allrighty then. Yes, I would.  We pretty much already are, aren’t we? I said ‘live together’ because ‘move in’ seems weird since we’re both away from home so often, but the particulars don’t really matter. All I know is that wherever you are, I want to wake up next to you whenever possible.”

He began to pull me onto his lap, but stopped when I winced and settled for embracing me instead. “I love you, woman. Thank you. Yes, we already are…I guess I just needed to say the words. I agree, particulars don’t matter. We’ll work that out as we go. Maybe we should look for a new flat, at least in London, something we pick out together? How much stuff do you have?”

I laughed. “Books. I have lots of books. Other than that, not much. My apartment is fucking TINY. So. Anyway. Care to fill me in on how your mother, who obviously hates me already, discovered that I’m a divorcee?”

“Oh. Right. That. I’ve been on the phone all morning…I’m surprised you slept as long as you did. First with Luke. Then my sister Emma, then Luke again, and then Mum. And I’m sorry about her behavior. Once you meet, everything will make sense to her. I’m sure of it.”

A yawn contorted my face, arms stretching way up above my head. I glanced at the clock, figuring it was much too early for Luke to be up, but it read eleven AM. “Shit, it’s that late? Good lord. Oh, sorry. Carry on, Thomas.”

“Luke was up because their flight leaves at eight. And it’s five PM in London now. Anyway, it appears that nearly every publicly available detail about your life has made its way to Tumblr, as well as every other corner of the internet. With no involvement whatsoever from Will, as it would appear.”

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and grabbed the crutches from the floor next to it. “Well. Band-Aid right off indeed, I guess. I have to pee. Would you mind getting my laptop out and putting it on the bed for me?”

He nodded, and I used the toilet without further injuring myself, which felt like a huge accomplishment. The computer was waiting for me, as was my phone. Tom had gotten up and was scrolling through his own phone as he paced. I opened my browser and searched my name on Tumblr. Post after post, the basic facts correct…Will’s name, my mother’s name, the fact that we’d divorced and he’d married her, her funeral details. Other than that it was endless speculation as to the how and the why of it all. There were even photos from when I’d been at my heaviest, taken at various conferences, most likely obtained from the conference websites. And then I saw the pièces de ré·sis·tance…a somewhat racy photo Norman had taken of me, and one of us holding hands at Comic-Con in 2010, him kissing my cheek.

“Jesus motherfucking Christ tap dancing on a fucking saltine cracker. Have you seen…?”

“Yes. The photo of you and Norman, and the one he took of you are on the Daily Mail. Along with the video we made. It’s not an altogether unfavorable story, actually…”

I’d opened the site as soon as he mentioned it and scanned the article quickly.

Tom Hiddleston confirms romance with Prosper PR Social Media Director, Maude Gallagher

- Sorry, ladies…Tom Hiddleston is officially off the market. A video the couple posted on Hiddleston’s Tumblr blog Tuesday confirmed the rumors that have been swirling over the past several weeks. Gallagher’s first task as newly appointed Social Media Director for Prosper PR, of whom Hiddleston is a client, is working solely with Hiddleston to re-vamp his online presence. According to our sources, the totes adorbs pair are currently in New Orleans to attend the funeral of Gallagher’s mother, Mary Bonaventura, who passed away on Saturday. A native of New Orleans, Gallagher left the Big Easy for the Big Apple in 1998 after the tragic suicide of father Sean Gallagher, and shortly thereafter divorced her husband of fourteen months, William Bonaventura. Founder of Maude Gallagher, LLC, an internationally known social media consultation firm with such A-list clients as Anne Rice, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and Robert Downey, Jr., Gallagher is no stranger to the celebrity dating scene, either, having spent some one-on-one time with Walking Dead star Norman Reedus in 2010. The two were snapped canoodling at Comic-Con, and Reedus included a boudoir-style shot of Gallagher in a 2013 exhibition of his photography. Hiddleston is set to begin promo tours for his three soon-to-be-released films over the next two months, Crimson Peak, I Saw the Light, and High Rise, followed by the filming of Skull Island this fall.  

“No, I guess it could have been much fucking worse. We even got a ‘totes adorbs’. And I suppose, on some level, I’m grateful that they outed me without my having to do it myself. But was it really necessary to mention that I dated another actor? Like, five years ago? And post photos? Where did they even FIND those? Tom, I did give him permission to include it in his exhibition, but never gave a thought to…”

He looked up from his phone. “Twitter. They found them on Twitter. Norman’s Twitter, to be precise.”

Eyes cast downward, I struggled to grasp what he was saying. Tramadol was officially on my ‘keep that shit away from me’ list. Though at this point, the blame could be placed on a multitude of other things. Like the fact that Tom screaming ‘you’re just a pathetic little famewhore’ in my face kept repeating over and over in my head, like a Vine video, six seconds, endlessly looping. I told myself that I’d forgiven him, that I had no right to mention it again, but the tears began to spill over anyway. I felt his weight on the bed at my side, then his arms around me, cheek pressed against mine.

“Oh Maude…I’m so sorry. It’s reminded me of the awful things I said the other night, and if I’m upset I can’t even begin to imagine how you feel. It’s okay.” His voice broke. “Please don’t think I’m angry with you. I’m not. And if you’re angry with me, I understand.”

I wiped my tears away, sniffing. “I’m not angry. But yeah, it’s circling in my head, like a vulture or something. Sorry. I’ll get over it. I just…I feel like…I don’t know. Like I did something wrong. Even though it was before I knew you. Does that make sense? I guess that’s why I had the breakdown about Will yesterday. Even though I didn’t know you when I was…you know…whenever I think about it, it feels like I betrayed you somehow. Same thing with Norman.”

He nuzzled my neck, stubble tickling me. “Yes. It makes sense. I feel horribly guilty when such thoughts cross my mind. Which has never happened to me before, I might add.”

My logic kicked in suddenly. “How did you know those came from Norman’s Twitter account?”

He leaned back so he could see me, arms still holding me tightly. “He told me they did.”

“I’m sorry…what the fuck do you mean ‘he told you they did’?”

“He phoned me earlier, after he’d seen them. To apologize.”

I could feel my brows rise as my head tilted to the side. “You talked to Norman. On the phone. When he called to apologize.” He nodded. “What was he apologizing for, exactly?”

“For causing us any additional stress, especially at such a difficult time. He noticed yesterday that they were being re-tweeted, and then he saw the Mail article. While he thought it was tasteless that they’d felt the need to use something he considered art as a sensationalist tactic, he was pleased they’d at least gotten the timeframe correct. He said he rang your phone, but when he got voicemail he figured he’d try mine.”

“Where the hell did he get your number?”

“Guillermo.”

“Clever. I can’t ever imagine anyone being pissed at him no matter what he does. Did he actually use the word ‘tasteless?”

Tom smiled. “I believe his exact phrasing was something along the lines of ‘Those assholes, how fucking disgusting is it that they take something so beautiful, a work of art, man, and twist it into a sex sells scandal clickbait bullshit item? No respect for women, man. Or art. Fuckers.’”

“That’s more like it.” Finding myself at a loss for words, I clicked on the photo to enlarge it. Tom stared at the screen and began rubbing my back. I felt compelled to explain the circumstances of how it had come into being, but figured he wouldn’t want to know, so I slammed the laptop closed. “This is really, really, REALLY fucking awkward. I’m sorry it exists, and I’m sorry you had to see it, and that someone I used to date took it…”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad to have seen it. He’s correct. It is a work of art. You’re a work of art, Maude. How could anyone resist capturing a moment like that? I took a look at some of his other photography online…he’s quite talented. Everything is very spontaneous, visceral…yet perfectly composed.”

My head turned in order to face him. “This is hurting what’s left of my brain, Thomas. Do you, like, LIKE Norman? Because…that would make it like fucking Seinfeld all up in here. Worlds. Are. Colliding.”

Tom guffawed. “Let’s leave it at I no longer thoroughly DISlike him, shall we?” His laughter ceased, but a faint smile remained. “When I saw his name come up on my phone, I’ll admit it…I was significantly less than delighted. But after we spoke for a bit I realized that it mustn’t have been an easy thing for him to do, either…yet he did it anyway. It was a very kind gesture. When commenting on the article, he blurted out ‘wow, man, I had no idea she was married before’, and in that moment any residual jealousy I’d been harboring simply vanished, because it became clear to me that you’d been absolutely truthful when you said you’d never loved him.” The look I shot him made him blanch, and he let go of me and put his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Not that I didn’t believe you before. That came out wrong. Fuck. Sorry. What I meant was…it…I…”

My hand squeezed his thigh. “I know what you meant. That I never cared enough about him to want to reveal anything of importance finally solidified what I said for you. It was a very kind gesture, though, and I want to say thank you. Maybe we can call him together later?” Tom nodded. “Good. Now I’m going to tell you how that work of art came to be.” He shifted uncomfortably. “It’s actually pretty funny. We were heading out to yet another party I didn’t wish to attend wherein I’d inevitably encounter drunk and angry Norman. I’d met him at his place, having stopped along the way to get a cup of tea, and pretty much as soon as I walked through the door I tripped over his cat and spilled it all over my shirt. His ex-wife kept some clothes there for when she was in town dropping off or picking up their son, and when he told me to help myself I laughed and laughed. Because, Helena Christensen…supermodel. He said she liked to wear oversize stuff when she travelled and that something that would fit me for sure, so I decided to prove him wrong. That white man-tailored shirt was the largest thing I could find, and I put it on and walked out into the living room and posed, my way of saying ‘I told you so, jerky.’ Before I could say a word he grabbed his camera and started shooting. In the end I wound up wearing a KISS T-shirt instead. Much to my dismay. So. There was nothing boudoir about it. At all. Just clumsy me entertaining the masses. Though I guess I do look kind of hot. That’s the only decent thing my mother ever gave me…a really nice rack.”

He swept my hair aside and ran  his tongue across the back of my neck. “Mmm. You’re even hotter now. Which reminds me…that song from last night…”

I was perfectly cognizant of what song he was referencing, but was reluctant to discuss it as there wasn’t enough time for a proper fuck fest before the funeral. I opted to make a most likely fruitless attempt at diversion. “YAY, you DO like Skrillex!”

“Well, perhaps, but that Kyoto one is…no, that’s NOT the song I’m talking about.

“These aren’t the droids you’re looking for?”

His eyes rolled so far back all I saw was white. “Closer. THAT song. It took Herculean effort to not shag you senseless, in case you were wondering. But I knew you were impaired, which would have made doing so inappropriate, in my opinion…but perhaps you’ll sing it again for me later?”

An evil grin broke out across my face. “I guess. As long as you comply with my demand and let me fuck you like an animal afterward…”

His groan was interrupted by my phone ringing. It was Barty. I hit the answer button and put him on speaker.

“Good morning, Miss Maude. How’s the ankle?”

“Hurts like a mother f…it hurts bad. But once I have some ibuprofen I’ll be right as rain. Just a sprain, and they gave me a walking boot. Which is wicked stylish, of course.”

He laughed. “I’m guessing y’all haven’t watched any local news this morning. Am I right?”

Tom frowned. “We haven’t. Is something wrong?”

Barty laughed some more. “Not exactly. In fact, I’m of a mind you’ll think that something is very, very right when I tell you about certain events that occurred overnight.”

I poked the phone. “Well, now I’m excited. Spill it, oh great solicitor.”

“Approximately five minutes after one in the morning, the security alarm sounded at the Winchester residence. They’re at 2469 St. Charles…right next to your place. Been there since 2001 or so. It was a break in, and they recognized the perpetrator when they went downstairs, baseball bats in hand. It was none other than one William Bonaventura, drunk, brandishing a knife and raving about how he didn’t care what anyone said, he was taking what’s his. He proceeded to carry several pieces of furniture, several electronic devices and an array of knick-knacks out to a truck in the driveway before the police showed up. He then took off and drove said truck, which turned out to be stolen, down the street and crashed it into a telephone pole. When they arrested him they discovered that he was not in possession of a valid driver’s license, but was in possession of two ounces of marijuana and had a blood alcohol level of two point one percent. I have yet to see the laundry list of charges against him since there’s been no arraignment, but I do know that he will do a minimum of ten years for the armed robbery alone.”

I glanced over at Tom, grinning like a Cheshire cat. As was he. When I spoke, I found it impossible to contain my exuberance. “Soooo…the fucking idiot went out, tied one on, got pissed off and decided to get even, stole a truck and then robbed THE WRONG FUCKING HOUSE? This…this is…ohmyfuckinggod…I know it makes me a terrible human being, but the SCHADENFREUDE. Bwhahahahahaha…”

“Miss Maude, it does no such thing. Stupid is as stupid does, as Forest Gump’s mama used to say. And that boy…all he’s ever done is stupid. Well deserved, I say. You go on and enjoy it. My apologies, but I have a client arriving in a few, so I must be on my way. Give me a jingle when the title for the house is ready for transfer.”

Tom and I both shouted “Thank you, Barty!” and I ended the call.

Speechless, all I could do was shake my head back and forth slowly. I caught sight of the clock, noticed it was eleven forty-five and began to freak out. “Shit. Shit shit shit. We still have to shower and get dressed…” I looked down at my aircast. “Fuck. How, exactly, am I going to shower? It hasn’t been twenty-four hours yet, and I HAVE to shower, because I’m all hospitaly and icky…”

Tom rose from the bed, went to the desk and picked up two garbage bags and a roll of duct tape. “Got these from the maintenance person this morning. We’ll just wrap the boot so it won’t get wet, and I’ll help you stand if you need me to. I already showered, so all I have to do is dress.”

His thoughtfulness reminded me of the depth of my love for him, and he for me. It surged through me, eclipsing everything else I was feeling. “Thomas, you are just…just…thank you. Thanks for taking care of me last night, and all this week, and…”

A kiss cut me off, and he knelt between my legs, cautiously lifting my foot and slipping the bags over the boot. “It’s my pleasure, Maude. Having someone to care for…having you to care for…it makes me feel whole. Complete. And so very, very blessed.” The smile he flashed as he finished taping and held out his hands to help me up turned me into a pile of goo. “Come on, now. Time to get you nice and wet.”

I snorted. “Hiddleston, I’m already nice and wet.”

He rested my weight against his chest, hand slowly working its way down my belly and inside my panties, chuckling as I shuddered when he made contact, fingers delving between my folds. “Of course you are.” I whined when I felt his hand disappear, only to reappear as he brought his fingers up to my mouth, tracing my lips. I stuck out my tongue to lick them, but he pulled them away and thrust them into his own mouth, sucking eagerly for a moment, then releasing them with a pop. “Wet and delicious.”

I gasped, then a throaty moan followed. “THOMAS. PLEASE. STOP.”

He laughed as he grabbed the crutches and handed them to me. “Never, woman. NEVER. Shower time. Move along.”

“Fine. Fucking bastard.”

“I do love you so, my Maude.”

My eyes narrowed as I scowled at him. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” I placed a tiny kiss on his jaw. “I love you too, Thomas. Let’s get this shit over with so we can  run away to New York. The Carnegie Deli is calling my name, baby, and you’re buying.”

“I’m buying?”

“Did you honestly think I’d forget about our last bet? About the number of notes on your first Tumblr post? Please. It’s a free meal. That stays on the hard drive for-ev-er.”

His mouth crashed against mine, tongue searching, tasting of me. He broke the kiss within seconds, leaving me even more frustrated than I’d already been. “I remember. And I can’t wait. For dinner, for New York…and everything after.”

I grinned in spite of my case of ball-less blue balls. “Me either, baby. Me either.”

[noona-clock]

Popcorn and Candy

As requested by a lovely anon! Let me know if you like it!

Genre: College!AU/Fluff

Pairing: Kihyun x You

By Admin B

“I’ll tell you this first and foremost,” Kihyun said just after you sat down next to him. “I’m not doing all the work. I know everyone wants to be partnered with me because I’m the smartest in the class, but I’m not a pushover. And I’m not afraid to get a lower grade if my partner doesn’t pull her weight.”

...Wow, okay. What a nice way to start class.

Your psychology professor had told you just a minute ago you would be partnering up for a project. Instead of letting his students pick who they worked with, however, he randomly drew names out of a hat. When your name had been picked, then Kihyun’s right after, you had to admit... you’d been a little excited. As he just mentioned, he was the smartest in the class. But had you been planning on putting all the work on him? Of course not. You were a hard working student, too, but apparently Kihyun had just assumed you weren’t.

“I wasn’t planning on making you do all the work,” you told him with a slight scoff. You were a little offended by his words, and he deserved to know how you felt. “I’m going to work just as hard you, okay?”

Kihyun simply nodded, pressing his lips together and looking somewhat ashamed. Good.

You spent the rest of class deciding what to do for your project, ultimately settling on researching whether or not certain types of movies made people eat more popcorn and candy. You were convinced the tension of action and suspense movies subconsciously made people more stressed and, therefore, more likely to fidget or eat. Kihyun found this a little ridiculous, so he was very interested to get started and prove you wrong.

“Let’s meet at the campus movie theater at 1pm so we can gather some statistics, okay?” Kihyun suggested after the professor had dismissed everyone for the day.

“Sounds good to me,” you replied, slipping your notebook into your bag before heading out. You wouldn’t say you were excited to work on this project, but you weren’t absolutely dreading it, either. Kihyun just seemed a little... intense. But you would most likely get a good grade, so you couldn’t quite complain.

Over the course of about two months, you and Kihyun visited the movie theater about five different times, the first being the day the project was assigned. On that occasion, you had spoken with the manager to collect some spreadsheets on concession sales over the past six months. You had compared the sales and number of refills to which movies had been released, and while there wasn’t a glaringly obvious correlation between action movie launches and the number of popcorn buckets purchased, you could still see a trend. Kihyun was reluctant to admit it, but he did say “There’s a possibility.”

You then saw several different movies there together, though you were more focused on observing the other moviegoers’ eating habits than the movies themselves. You saw two actions movies, one animated film, and a romantic comedy to see if there was any observable difference among the audiences and how quickly they ate their popcorn.

It was during the second action movie when Kihyun started acting a little... strange. Well, not strange, exactly. Just different. He had been leaning a little close toward you, jotting down when a person had gone to get a popcorn refill, and he’d murmured softly, “You smell really nice.”

“...Oh,” you had whispered, a bit confused. “Thanks.” I mean, you had worn your new perfume today, but you’d had no thought Kihyun would even notice, let alone comment on it.

And then he had started texting you. And... not even about the project. The day after that movie, you had received a message from him asking ‘Hey what’s up?’ Up until then, he’d only messaged you to make sure you’d completed your assignments. You had replied, of course, not wanting to be rude, and it had turned into an almost all day conversation.

It was weird, but... you kind of liked it.

Then, during the animated movie, you had seen a completely different side of Kihyun. He kept losing focus and getting distracted by the movie, laughing at the funny parts. You would snicker to yourself and elbow him gently, reminding him you were there to watch the popcorn eaters, not the movie. But it was really cute how much he enjoyed a children’s cartoon film.

You continued your back and forth texting, sometimes talking about the project, but mostly just talking about life. You came to understand he was so serious about schoolwork because his dad had passed away a couple of years ago, so he felt he was responsible for taking care of his mom and little sister. He wanted to graduate with the best grades he could and find a high quality job so he could provide for them.

Once you learned this, you had to admit to yourself that you had developed a crush on him. He was nice (once you got past the cold, serious exterior), funny (once he was comfortable enough to make jokes), and really cute on top of being extremely smart and hard-working. 

During the final movie of your project, the romantic comedy, your crush had only grown stronger, and you found it rather difficult to sit next to Kihyun while two characters on screen were falling in love (in a funny way, of course).��

Kihyun kept asking you if you were alright, and you kept assuring him you were. You were honestly trying to ignore him because if you didn’t... he would definitely figure out you had feelings for him.

After the credits finished and everyone had thrown away their popcorn, you grabbed your jacket and headed to the exit without really saying anything to Kihyun. You had gotten pretty uncomfortable sitting next to him, especially when the main characters had kissed near the end, so you just really needed to leave. Kihyun, however, had followed after you, putting a hand on your arm to stop you before you could reach the parking lot.

“What’s going on?” he’d asked, his brow furrowed.

“Nothing,” you’d replied, barely looking at him.

“Then why did you barely look at me during the whole movie? You basically ignored me. And I feel like you’re ignoring me now.”

“I’m not. I was just trying to work on the project.”

“But... I mean, I thought... we were getting to be... friends.”

You’d let out a sigh, closing your eyes momentarily and feeling your heart sink at the word ‘friends.’

“What? What’s that sigh?” Kihyun had asked, taking a step closer to you. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong!” you’d cried, a bit louder than intended. You had lowered your voice and assured him again. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Then why do you seem so annoyed? Did I do something?”

“No, you didn’t -- you didn’t do anything.”

“Then tell me what’s going on, why you’re acting so weird.”

“I’m acting weird because I like you, okay?” you’d blurted out before you could stop yourself. But saying it had actually felt really, really good. “I like you.”

Kihyun had frozen for a second, but then he’d taken another step toward you. “Well, why didn’t you say anything?”

Your heart had sped up as you’d watched a soft smile pull at his lips. Was he... Did he...?

“Because... Like you said, I thought we were friends.”

“We are, but...” He’d reached out to take one of your hands, running his thumb gently over the back of it. “I like you, too.”

Obviously, everything had changed after that. You’d spent the next two weeks finishing up your project and turning your study sessions into dates. You’d actually watched movies together, although sometimes you still didn’t actually watch the movie, but for a different reason altogether. Kihyun had even finally admitted you’d been right about people eating more popcorn and candy during action movies, and you’d considered that to be your first victory in your relationship.

“I guess I’d better get used to this since you’ll always be right,” Kihyun had smirked before leaning in to kiss you.

The time finally came to present your project to your class, and let me tell you - it was just bordering on torture having to stand in front of everyone with Kihyun and act professional. Since your relationship was still new, you wanted nothing more than to put your feelings on display and let everyone know he was your boyfriend. 

The slideshow seemed to go by painfully slow, but you finally reached the conclusion, even throwing in a little joke about how you’d been right in your hypothesis and Kihyun hadn’t been. He shot you a playfully evil look, and you knew you’d pay for that comment later. But you didn’t care.

The class clapped in appreciation, and your professor congratulated you on a job well done. You and Kihyun high fived each other before going back to your seats and getting ready to watch the next presentation. He secretly took your hand underneath the table, drawing lazy circles on your palm with his finger and subsequently driving you crazy. You thought back to when he used to drive you crazy in an annoying way, and you almost laughed at how things had turned out.

When your grades were released a week later, you and Kihyun were more than delighted to find you’d received full marks. Neither of you were surprised, of course, since you’d both worked hard and done tons of research, but it was still satisfying.

Kihyun took your hand as you both left the classroom, bringing it up to his lips and kissing it. “You know something?”

“What?”

“Even if we’d failed... I don’t think I would’ve cared.”

“Oh, yeah right.”

“I’m serious!”

“And why wouldn’t you have cared, huh?” you asked teasingly.

“Because... I couldn’t have failed. I found you.”

You held back an embarrassed smirk, nudging his side before quickly kissing his shoulder. “Shut up,” you murmured, blushing.

“Yes, ma’am,” Kihyun replied, smiling at you before placing a soft kiss on your lips.

Master list //  RULES // Submit a Request! // Read About the Admins

[crossedbeams]

ROSE REVIEWS… THE X-FILES - S1.E11 Eve

<<1.10 Fallen Angel ———————————  1.12 Fire >>

I’m salty today and what better way than to transfer that into something positive than to finish this long overdue and almost certainly irrelevant recap of Eve. Read on for children who are almost as scary as their acting is bad, prison aesthetics and idiotic blithering by me.

THE PLOT

The fathers of creepy children are being exsanguinated on opposite coasts and Mulder wants to know the aliens have upgraded from cows. IVF suspicions run wild and with a little help from good old Deep Throat, the terrific two suspect genetic government experiments gone wrong may be responsible for the shenanigans. When the creepy kids go missing, things escalate and soda becomes a very dangerous refreshment...

Let’s go...

MY STREAM OF SEMI-CONSCIOUSNESS

Ah. The X-Files, the show that is always a scenic autumnal bath for my eyes…. And where under the leaves there is probably a dead person eaten by a molewoman or an alien. Honey? I’m home.

We find ourselves in an idyllic suburban neighbourhood, (always bad news on screen), where very concerned joggers approach an underdressed child and her stuffed animal. It’s hard at this stage to decipher whether the kid is creepy or just a really bad actor but the suspense synth hardly encourages us to give her the benefit of the doubt...

They head to the backyard, where peppy jogging neighbour fails to notice that the kid’s dad is dead coloured, posed like a corpse and basically, stereotypically and obviously dead... until he claps him jovially on the shoulder causing a tragicomic half slump of dead dad, and exposing vampiric looking marks. The kid screams, not sure why, she’s way too far away to see anything. This is the point at which I begin to suspect that she is both a bad actor AND entry #224 in the Vancouver local listing of Creepy Kids for Hire. Move over Conduit boy!

CREDITS!

This week we only wait 2.5 mins for our special baby Agents to materialise, Scully dressed as a Catholic grade schooler and Mulder wearing a tie designed, as far as I can tell, to look like mushroom soup with licorice allsorts floating in it.

Their poor fashion choices don’t seem to put them off them though, and we zigzag between lip biting (Mulder), making weird moany noises (Scully), and the level of inter office eye contact we’ve come to expect from these fluffy baby agents all set to a soundtrack of cattle mutilation chatter. And our series first (!) cow slideshow!

Scully is still naive enough to ask why Mulder believes cattle mutilation is linked to aliens. Give it a few weeks and you’ll realise that aliens is pretty much always the answer to “Why….” on the X-Files and that eyebrow is the only appropriate response before you just go with it.

I can’t wait :D

As Mulds and Sculls traverse some stairs, I realise that creepy kid #1 is called Teena. Spelled the same as Mulder’s mum. Because apparently the X-Files name bank isn’t only shallow in the male department. Also is Teena a normal spelling in the States? Here it’d only really be Tina….

I then get distracted by Scully in the biggest of purple coats. I’d love to see S1 Scully’s closet. A symphony of oversized pastels with overcoats to clash… don’t worry though hon. You’ll get some style later though for the bargain price of two (2) family members and also your ova. Poor Scully.

Scully also looks incredibly young in this scene, speaking all soft to the kid. Moments like this I struggle to believe that Mulder “never saw her as a mom” until Home. She’s all melty round the edges even though the kid is weird and creepy.

When creepy Teena starts talking about red lightning, the massively coached and unnatural pauses in dialogue and the trouble pronouncing exsanguination are just so glaring you can’t believe that this kid’s innocent charade will hold up as long as it does. But it all adds to the creep, just in time for…

**bring bring ** Scully leans in to kiss her spoopy partner tell Mulder there has been another murder. Darn. Seriously though. Close talkin to the power on uuuungghhh right here. No wonder this fandom is so thirsty.

We’re in Vancouver San Franciso, still in giant coats, for another exsanguination and what we now know is death by digitalis. Mulder says that the two estimated times of death were at the “exact same time” and I chuckle to myself like the pedant I am. Estimates cannot be exact dumdum. It also takes the edge off him mansplaining timezones to Scully. SHE IS A MEDICAL DOCTOR DAMMIT. 

This scene has very nice warm, sunsetty lighting which is nice as our Spooksters demonstrate why the X-Files department is always over budget; they’ve flown cross country to do two laps of a crime scene while reading a file aloud and the kid they wanna question isn’t even in town. Where is she? I’m glad you asked, coz remember that sunny warmness? Well it’s over.

Back on the east coast, creepTeena is getting outcreeped by a thunderstorm and what appear to be disembodied footsteps at her door. We see nothing but a flash and then the door is open. It’s tense and I’m pretty sure this is never explained, raised as a concern beyond “she got abducted”?

A new day means new suits, Mulder in a tie inspired by parquet flooring and Scully in eggshell and pinstripes and a brown trenchcoat named regret. It’s a lot to process and they still don’t seem overly concerned about Teena’s kidnapping. Despite his post Samantha abduction PTSD, Mulder’s only contribution is a dramatic sky point and the suggestion the cops need to look up, but then dun dun dduuuuunh - there’s another one.

Sinister Cindy in the house. Literally.

She informs them she has lived there “since she was born eight years ago”. Zero inflection with that info and a sentence structure as unnatural as the phenomena Mulder wants to blame. Deffo a rent-a-creepykid. 100%. The woodenness only adds to it.

Commence super awkward kitchen convo where they Mulder and Scully try and fail to find a tactful way to imply Cindy might not be this grieving wife’s legitimate child. A birthing video is offered and declined. Thank god. Imagine is CHris Carter had to watch rushes of an actual woman’s vagina with a female child emerging. 

Mrs Reardon’s insistence that Cindy was daddy’s girl is pretty horrifying once you know how it ends. Damn creepy kids. Listening in while watching politics, Cindy is infinitely creepier than Teena and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not for this kid “actor”.

Back in the car and Mulder is still pretty blase about Teena’s abduction/kidnap, though I forgive him because his flippant potato/potahto is adorable and he does hang out in the bushes to try and protect Cindy from getting nabbed sending Scully off to the IVF clinic alone. Ahh... the foreshadowing is out there.

At the Luther Stapes Medical Centre, a doctor mansplains IVF to Scully. She does not punch him. Another way that she is better than me.She does however, maintain super intense eye contact with him for the entire walk and truly it is a miracle she doesn’t fall over.

The next scene is pretty uneventful except that I can honestly say that Sally Kendrick is the last human I would want toying with my cervix. She’s...robotic and it looks like she has to work out how to sit down like a human. She could give Theresa May lessons.

Back at the hotel there’s some funky camera panning that I am here for and also I think there is some dialogue but let’s be honest.... this is more important 

Yes Professor I would like some extra credit and may I also just smooth your poofy hair.

Even Scully knows it. Hence her confusion at being ushered out, for no obvious reason. She just wants to look at him and maybe get inside his shirt and ... and... Mulder’s “what’s a girl” is cute.... but this is cuter. (even more overanalysing of this scene here for ya glasses lovers). 

Instead of meeting a girl, Mulder meets Deep Throat in an excessively aesthetically pleasing place. Honestly, Eve is a beautiful episode. Despite the creepy kids and imprisoned women. (Eve Aesthetic here). DT seems very concerned that Scully not be invited and while I’m sure that this has some link to the possibility of spy!Scully, it reads more as jealous older manfriend wants pretty Mulder to himself. And honestly I get it. God, fic has ruined me. Anyway, enough of that, enjoy this picture of pensive waterside Mulder and try to recall the specifics of the Deep Throat reveal. Project Blah. Boys called Adam. Girls called Eve. Clones. Bad. Disaster. EVE-il is at work. ¬¬ (sorry)

Mulder has brought sunflower seeds because meeting an informant without snacks = rookie error. 

The important thing to note is that Deep Throat basically sets the stage for the Super Soldier Arc and everyone forgets about it when they actually get to the super soldier arc. God, for a continuity pedant, my fave is SO problematic!

Deep Throat finishes by telling Mulder he’s scored him front row seats to what’s left of the whole fucked up thing.

Cut to the most aesthetic Institute for the criminally insane and after some hot DAMN camera angles we get panic buttons and a tromp into the deeps where they keep all the government created monsters, including Eve 6.

I just wanna take a moment away from my snark and give a huge shout out to Harriet Harris who is SO good and creepy in this episode. A lot of the Season 1 extras/bit parts are average to the extreme and honestly, Harris makes this episode. Without her eyeball biting, jerky, wild eyed delivery, this ep would be as mediocre as the creepy twin actresses.

Now we’ve got that out of the way - we find out that Eve 6 screams when the lights are on but is fine with  an industrial sized flashlight being shone all up in her face.  Nobody’s ever got a good look at her... except presumably the person who undoes her straitjacket so she can pee? And now Mulder and Scully.

Eve 6 is my fave Eve tbh. She’s this perfect mix of terrifying and pitiful, alludes to the telekinetic connection that the younger Eve twins later reference, and is the kind of proof of government misdeed that and older Mulder and Scully despair of, delivered while they’re way too young in their partnership to do anything about it. She tells them that Eves are into suicide, psychosis and murder, and on exiting, our baby agents still don’t suspect the kids.

(Break for actual analysis) It struck me during this scene how this case tunes into both Mulder and Scully’s demons. For Mulder, it’s the missing girls and the incarcerated Eve represents a scenario that could explain Samantha’s absence in the most horrifying ways. What if she is a locked up experiment just like Eve 6? For Scully it’s a visceral representation of her struggle between scientific duty and Christian morality. The creation of Eve 6 is an aberration against both good scientific practice AND the divine right of Good to control life and death... and yet she is also a victim who did not choose too be engineered and while Scully tries to question her, maintaining composure, this face/stress swallow really says it all.

Just to double the sucker punch we cut to Cindy asking the lord to take her soul, her mother looking on with a mournful doomladen stare before telling her daughter how special she is. Cindy is unmoved, because she is special(ly evil) and Mama Reardon leaves, bereft of her husband and unacknowledged by her kid. We get it Chris Carter. Genetic experimentation BAD, family GOOD, foreboding, CHECK.... now can we just-

Mulder Scully stakeout! There is no iced tea in the bag and when Mulder posits that the adult Eves 7 & 8 did done the murders, Scully pulls this face, and mutters without much conviction that she was beginning to suspect the girls. 

GOOD CALL SCULLY

Except Mulder then says “no no and here is why” and Scully just goes with it. The whole delivery at set up of this scene feels very Season 1, by which I mean Scully vacillates wildly between submitting to Mulder’s experience and being done.with.his.shit, Mulder gets all the big lines/theories/feelings/hunches and Gillian especially (and David to a lesser degree) seem unsure how to play their nuances and dynamic. Essentially it all becomes irrelevant because CRISIS takes precedent but being the super-nerd I am, this stuff fascinates me as evidence of them still learning their characters. No way S5 Scully gives up on a plausible theory so easily, even if it makes 8-yos into suspects. If cats can be evil, these staring, soulless kids can be too.

Cue Mark Snow jangles and Cindy and her similar to Teena’s bunny rabbit run away from her terrifying wall dolls and many crucifixes towards the window where she makes terrifying eye contact with Scully’s binoculars before getting grabbed by someone who is considerate enough to announce themselves by turning on the lights?!.

Mulder will take the back! (any time Mulder. Any way ¬¬ ) and sets off with his almost convincingly held gun/torch combo while Scully takes the indoors. This is, invariably, only going to go one way.

DOWN GOES SCULLY!

Sally Kendrick/Eve? leaps through the window where Mulder confronts her by asking her which Eve she is, allowing her a chance to pull a gun, shoot at him and escape and this is why you don’t want S1 Muldo and Sculls handling your home invasion. I mean who holds their gun like this, takes out a psychopath and ends the day without a hole in them?

Fox “Thinks he can outrun a car” Mulder is who. 

I love his idiot face though.

Despite the fact that Cindy didn’t struggle/scream/react to her apparent kidnap at all, Scully’s remaining focussed on the adult Eves in support of Mulder’s dismissal of her earlier theory... well I already said it but - *sigh*

After Scully briefs the police and Mulder tries to reassurea distraught Mrs Reardon that her increasingly abnormal daughter will be found we get the kind of side by side, meaningful  moment that I am here for all day long. Except that the height difference is so extreme that they never actually get Scully in focus!

And Scully’s “and then what” brings us back to unsettling truth that even if the kid gets found, things aren’t looking good for her given how much murder is in her genes. Poor Mrs Reardon.

Very X-Files, through-the-motel-sign shot and we see Sally Kendrick taking Cindy into motel to meet Teena. The girls look... creepy... and Kendrick looks weirdly and simplistically happy given that she has multiple abductees, severe genetic issues and the FBI on her back. Maybe poor old Sal just wants a normal life? Unlucky girl, this is the X-Files, no happy ending for anyone EVERR. Except possibly a two-faced rapist who likes Cher but that’s for another time.

Back to Sally Kendrick who is rocking a poloneck and showing a remarkable lack of nutritional concern for someone supposedly a genius. Pretty sure 8 cartons of fries are no better for psychotic murder-kids than regular ones. She begins to explain that she was pretty hopeful that she’s evolved the murdering out of her second batch of Eves but turns out she actually made it worse! Let’s pop a check in the box for “playing into popular concerns about genetic testing” and “reasons you shouldn’t do it yourself”. She tells Cindy and Teena she’s “disappointed” that they’ve done murders ahead of the curve. They are not bothered which is unsurprising given they don’t know her/are psychopaths.

Aesthetically this scene is very pleasing and the lack of stilted kid dialogue “we just knew” vs. long sentences definitely adds to tension. As does the total lack of background music. Hearing even these fairly limited actors candidly and remorselessly admit to murder is effective. And Kendrick’s slightly desperate plea that they not think that way, that they be “better” as she designed has the double effect of showing her own Eve-y instability and her very human desire to not have made a horrible mistake in creating this terrifying she-devils.

Sorry Sal.

Genetic destiny’s a bitch

And the X-Files narrative demands that when you play god you get dead. unless you’re the CSM in which case you probably drink digitalis and kale for breakfast to aid skin regrowth. Bye bye Sally Kendrick. Thanks for the creepers.

On attending the crime scene, Mulder and Scully are midway through being told that the scene is undisturbed when they hear stuff breaking. This prompts some X-Files-Action-MagicTM and some truly outrageous faces by Gillian.

Yup

What is most disturbing on rewatching is that with the scene secured, Scully confirms death and Mulder goes to gaze out the window while the Creeper twins cower and cry on the floor. Noe we know they’re guilty AF by this point, but in the narrative DumbScull and MulderingItOver haven’t quite got there because they’ve been too busy gazing at each other so we have two children just whimpering in the corner while Scully pokes a corpse and Mulder mulders about. 

Scully does eventually go and pat them. And again I say fuck you CC and anyone else who “didn’t see her as a mother”.

Mulder volunteers to chaperone the creepsters to hospital and beyond and the guy in charge kinda just goes “meh”. Pretty sure some liberties have been taken with child service procedures but hey, at least this means we’re almost at the crescendo moment. Right?

Having loaded them into the car, where their spiffy red outfits match the velour upholstery and promised they’ll talk about “what happens next” (again, is this really FBI jurisdiction? Fox Mulder counselling bereaved kids seems like a HORRIBLE plan to me) , Scully and Mulder note the girls attachment and somehow miss the horrifying expressions of murder on their creepy little faces. 

Again though #aesthetic

Cue some spangly night driving music, Mulder looking all pops over a red vinyl steering wheel, Scully playing mom and the creepsters plotting murder in the back. Ver ver X-Files. They pull up to a used car lot masquerading as a rest stop and go for a group wee,Mulder makes the rookie error of a) hyping evil kids with sugar and b) letting them order a murder weapon, and as soon as Scully’s distracted, one of the creepsters, possibly Sinister Cindy creeps out to spike the drinks. 

Now at this point, honestly, I’m questioning the kids narrative motives. Yes they’re murderous, but aren’t they also meant to be hyper intelligent? Amd getting marooned at a nowhere rest stop, with the corpses of two FBI agents seems SUPER dumb. Like they’re a bit small and loudly dressed to hitch a ride to Vegas and make it on the strip. What gives, creepsters?

The waitress tries to stop her plan by insisting she wait to take the soda until it’s paid for, but is way too easily placated by the kids excuse. Stick to your guns lady, you might just stop a murder.

Although apparently nobody is paying any attention because THIS ISN’T SUSPICIOUS AT ALL IS IT?

Apparently Mulder doesn’t think so, even knowing digitalis is sweet and that there is something weird afoot, he doesn’t question his super sweet diet drink or the kids totally normal and not at all weirdly resistant to drinking sugar free soda and just does this. Seriously it’s like he wants to die in agony.

Scully’s not much better, simply commenting on the “syrupy” taste. MMhmm. Bitch. You’re a medical doctor with a previously voiced suspicion. Quit sipping the murder juice.

Fortunately, after some suspenseful drawn out paying and a forgotten key excuse, Mulder FINALLY twigs when he finds some green goop on the table. Apparently murderTwin is cackhanded when she pours and Mulder, having licked the poison just to check it’s murdery enough (I just cant even) rushes outside to karate chop Scully’s drink away from her in a way so unsubtle that the creepers escape.

Which is actually great news because it gives us all the chance for a nice dark, X-Files bread and butter cat and mouse around a truckstop, cool lighting and tubey-arty stuff sequence. Which I’m here for. 

Despite some pants ruining puddles, the twins are quickly apprehended except for some gun wielding truckers interfere because in this universe regular citizens can hold law enforcement at gunpoint and prevent them doing their job/identifying themselves and anyway everyone almost gets shot and the kids run off again. I should probably insert some pithy political point here about arming the kids too but I’ve been writing this review for 84 years and I don’t have the energy.

Fortunately, at this point Mulder and Scully rediscover some investigative nous and having flashed an ID and truckboy, they trick Sinister and Creepy into thinking they’ve sped off after a school bus. Mulder goes full on child catcher and nabs them with a “gotcha” and is finally deaf to their “we’re just little girls” plea.

I’d like to take a second to flag up his response “that’s the last thing you are” because he’s wrong too. They are little girls, as well as psychopaths, and everyone’s insistence that they must be one thing or another is a device for narrative obfuscation as old as the bible. The appearance of beauty/youth/innocence is not mutually exclusive of the presence of malign intent or evil. Just ask Henry James/Oscar Wilde. Or me. I literally wrote a dissertation on this so. Yeah. They can be little girls and killers Mulder. Don’t be reductive.

But I guess we do need the simplicity of “this kid is evil” otherwise Mrs Reardon ripping her daughter out of a picture and burning it would be more conflicting and we’re only on season 1. 

Likewise the disturbing concept of two eight year olds in a secure prison. I mean yes thy’re creepy but - duh duh dunnnnh - rescue is at hand! Eve 8 shows up for them and once again thy “just knew”. This is the kind of X-Files ending I love. This is the kidn of story I would have loved the revivals to pick up. Imagine (recast) grown Cindy and Teena, off doing murdery clone stuff. Yep. Okay. I’m done now. This is the end. 

Except the score. Which is...

A solid “C” Grade (26/50)

Plot 6/10 - It’s entertaining and a good idea but I penalised it because it depends on Mulder and Scully being super slow on the uptake. That said, they do actually solve the case.

Mulder  6/10 - Mulder is in charge (thanks S1) and presents a mess of grieving brother, heroic car catcher and good cop. Good, in character stuff but not exceptional.

Scully  4/10 - Scully seems to forget she’d an MD and a badass here. She lets Mulder talk her out of (correct) suspicions, gets taken down in the action scene and generally second fiddles. She’s a cute mom but not the Scully we want to see.

USP 3/5  - This was an ambitious idea, beautifully presented, and while it didn’t quite get the polish to make it iconic it is memorable, creepy and a good representation of S1 bread and butter eps. 

Other Characters  5/10 - These points are all for Harriet Harris. None for you creeper twins. None for you.

Bonus points 2/10 - One for being aesthetically pleasing. One for the dorky, cute, feeling out Mulder/Scully moments (motel urnghh) and also their mom and pop act at the rest stop.

That’s all for now folks. I’ll probably have the next one done this decade. Fire. Goodie.

<< 1.10 Fallen Angel ———————————  1.12 Fire >>

[culturalgutter]

Death metal is often the only solution, even for the cutest and nicest among us. Perhaps, especially for the cutest and nicest among us, like say red pandas–my go-to for the cutest among us*.  It is for Retsuko, the red panda protagonist of Aggretsuko. She is an accountant in a large company based in Tokyo. Retsuko is nice and cute. She’s good at her job and tries hard. Her friends thinks she is “responsible.” She does more than her share of work in the office. She gets roped into organizing social functions. She gets taken for granted. She tries hard to make things work that just won’t work. When she got the job she felt she was taking her “first step as a true member of society.”

Five years later, Retsuko hates her job, her boss and her boss’ misogynist crap so much so that sometimes the word rage glows on her forehead. Her rage can only be exorcised by singing death metal. Corpse paint appears on her face as she sings what she cannot say. She sings her fury in her imagination, in the bathroom or in an after hours karaoke sanctuary where the mandrill attendant knows her simply as, “party of one.” I appreciate how Retsuko’s songs appear karaoke-style on the screen. Sing along about your shitty boss!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Though Retsuko tries a variety of solutions for her unhappiness at her job over the course of ten episodes, Death Metal is the only solution. As is so often the case, it’s not only a release for Retsuko, it’s a revelation of her truest self.

Netflix’s Aggretsuko expands on elements from Aggressive Retsuko / Aguresshibu Retsuko, a series of 100 one-minute shorts that aired on Japanese television from 2016 to 2018. Both  produced by Fanworks using characters created by Japanese cuteness conglomerate, Sanrio. Both series were written and directed by Rarecho using characters created by Japanese cuteness conglomerate, Sanrio. Rarecho and his wife Kaolip voice Retsuko, with Kaolip doing the speaking and Rarecho singing for Retsuko. The flash animation is charming with the stripped down character design. And it’s apparent simple cuteness and very stylized world is a nice juxtaposition with the intensity of Retsuko’s songs and some of the more adult-not-in-the-euphemistic-sense content.

Aggretsuko has the structure of children’s animation, at least in terms of length. Adventure Time, We Bare Bears, The Powerpuff Girls are all about eleven minutes in length, not including ads. Aggretsuko is about fifteen minutes, without ads. Animation meant for adults on American television tends to be longer. But Aggretsuko is not meant for anyone younger than eighteen and not because of adult language. It’s because of adult situations like: a sexist, abusive boss; co-workers sticking you with their work; an inattentive, utterly passive partner; being trapped listening to boring stories; keeping a terrible job because rent needs to be paid; wearing cute shoes that hurt; falling in love with the idea of your relationship with someone; and, not being safe in revealing what should be innocuous parts of oneself.

Children would be bored and it is possible adults will be distressed, except there’s cuteness and catharsis.

I like both series, though I find Netflix’s Aggretsuko a bit more appealing than the one-minute shorts. This slight preference is probably a combination of getting to see more of the characters’ lives in an episode; the intensity of watching 30 one-minute shorts at a time rather mixed with other programming over the course of two years; and being a member of the English-speaking audience Netflix’s Aggretsuko was aiming for. And in Netflix’s Aggretsuko, her songs are often longer. We see more of her friends Washimi and Gori.  Her relationships with her literal pig boss, Director Ton, and her co-workers, Fenneko and Haida, are fleshed out. Her yoga instructor takes on a much larger role. And some characters, like Buffalo Boss, disappear, though he might re-appear in season two. Also, I enjoy seeing more of Director Gori, the gorilla marketing director of Retsuko’s company, and Washimi, a secretary bird and secretary to the company’s CEO.

The shorts rely on the universality of Retsuko’s experiences to convey character: The misogynist boss; the boss’s lackey; the gossipy co-worker who overshares; the viciously passive-aggressive supervisor; the drily sarcastic co-worker who creeps on everyone’s business; the apparently friendly yet secretly vicious co-worker. And all contained within a frustrating world where the only release is through death metal karaoke, because anything else has unpleasant consequences or, possibly worse, everyone pretends nothing happened. When Retsuko confronts her boss in a drunken karaoke battle, both pretend not to remember, but both do. And it makes things more difficult for Retsuko.

Retsuko is a nice person and wants to be a nice person. She is trapped by a confluence of work and gender roles. Some of these are particularly Japanese–say, pouring booze for her boss at an afterwork mixer–but most are things that are pretty universal. Retsuko is understood by her co-workers as a responsible person–one who can be taken advantage of. The series opens with Retsuko smacking her alarm clock  and then saying to her self, “After I count to ten, I’ll be a model citizen.” Mid-way, enduring her bosses’ abuse, she tells herself, “After I count to ten, I’ll be a model employee.”  Later as she hides from her boyfriend and her own feelings in a mall bathroom, she says “After I count to ten, I’ll be a happy girlfriend.”

The pain of cute shoes.

Repressing the rage.

But Retsuko does have friends who do consider her feelings: fellow accountants Fenneko and Haida; Director Gori, the gorilla chief of marketing; and Washimi, the secretary bird and secretary to the company’s CEO. At work Washimi and Gori are careful to be poised, confident business women, but they recognize their own precarious position. Gori is more emotionally open with Retsuko than Washimi, but Washimi uses her fearsome chopkick to motivate the company’s CEO to address abusive behavior in the workplace.

Washimi and Director Gori

The price of maintaining the front.

Fenneko and Haida

Retsuko is an interesting direction for Sanrio to take–the juxtaposition between Sanrio cuteness and death metal truth. I have heard criticisms of Sanrio’s globally dominant ambassador of cuteness, Hello Kitty, that start and end with, “She doesn’t even have a mouth.” And, yes, there is something there. And, yes, it is more complicated than that because of gender, culture and design. Most of the time, Retsuko tries hard to be nice and it would be too easy to see her as a victim of her own niceness. But it’s easy to blame the victim and to just assume shitty bosses are going to be shitty bosses, and that can imply everything should change for the convenience of shitty bosses and the shitty world they create around them. But Retsuko has a mouth and she sings brutally when she’s had enough.

Sanrio knows what it is doing in appealing to adult women. It always has. Children aren’t buying all those Hello Kitty toasters—no matter how much kids might enjoy Hello Kitty’s face on their breakfasts. Not to mention Hello Kitty coffee makers, cyclonic vacuum cleaners and shoulder massagers***.  Sanrio is clever in creating a character who combines the cuteness with the repressed rage of adult women. Aggretsuko is the kind of show that cannier writers than me will write clever headlines for–”Not your Mother’s Hello Kitty!” (For my part, I feel awful writing that even as a joke).

Retsuko is far more Johannes Krauser II than Sanrio’s badly behaved Bad Badtz Maru. In Kiminori Wakasugi’s Detroit Metal City ,* mild-mannered Soichi Negichi would really prefer to wear trendy mushroom hair cuts and sing songs inspired by perky and sincere Swedish pop songs, but his talent lies in singing death metal as Johannes Krauser II. Like Retsuko, Krauser has a character on his forehead as a part of his corpse paint. His says, “Kill.”

“Kill”

Retsuko is more ambivalent about her nice side than Soichi is, but she doesn’t want to be abused for it. And where Soichi is upset by and detached from his talent, Retsuko is anything but detached from her own brutal singing. When she sings, Retsuko reveals her feelings and revels in her dark depths. Her corpse paint is her real face. Well, that might be going a bit far. It’s just that Retsuko’s death metal singing face is real, too.

*I have no idea if red pandas are the nicest among us, but maybe?

**Whichever way you use “massagers.”

***Go to DMC!

~~~

Carol Borden thinks Retsuko would defeat Johannes Krauser II in a karaoke duel.

Aggretsuko: Death Metal is the Only Solution Death metal is often the only solution, even for the cutest and nicest among us. Perhaps, especially for the cutest and nicest among us, like say red pandas--my go-to for the cutest among us*. 

[the-master-cylinder]

The rise of Empire as a low budget producer with their “Beyond Infinity” video line resembles the start-up of AIP during the drive-in boom of the late ’50s, when a definite market existed for a certain product: films for the teenage audience, the wilder and more outrageous the better. The drive-ins “made” American-International Pictures, and like AIP, the VCR spurred Empire and other companies to produce films for a new market. But-having seen most of Empire’s Beyond Infinity offerings to date-one thing is obvious: unlike AIP, Empire lacks the creative genius of a low-budget auteur like Roger Corman. Imagination is not necessarily related to a film’s budget; low-budget films could be original, entertaining, and thought-provoking. But, Beyond Infinity’s releases thus far have proved to be inane, routine, and boring.

The Empire films follow a standard pattern: an exploitative, campy title; garish ad art; scripts which slavishly follow tried-and true formulas; varying amounts of nudity, gore effects, and juvenile humor. Of course, these traits apply equally well to the offerings of Empire’s competitors, particularly Troma Pictures, although Beyond Infinity product has a California pastel plasticity as opposed to Troma’s sleazy New York sheen. The fact that there is little of real interest to be found in any Beyond Infinity film certainly contributed to the commercial downfall of Empire and its video arm. Though the films themselves may not be completely devoid of entertainment value, most of the creativity seems to have gone into dreaming up the exploitable titles.

Dave DeCoteau, director of several projects released by Empire’s “Beyond Infinity” video label, pegged the fall of Band’s Empire to “the market place. It’s changed,” said DeCoteau. “There was a time that horror and fantasy fans saw just about anything that was made available on video. These days, quality prevails among genre movies, including films that are squarely made for direct-to-video release. You have to make the best movie you can and spend the money to do it right. If someone tries to pawn off a piece of shit, they’re shown the door.”

Reflecting on his three picture stint at Empire, DeCoteau said, “Charlie Band’s company was the young filmmaker’s first stop after college. There was a lot of experimentation as young people learned to work with low budgets. As a result, Empire wound up with a lot of product that was not all that wonderful. The company has been called the Sausage Factory of the Cinema. But you can’t keep making sausages, one after the other, sometimes a steak falls off the conveyor belt. Sometimes that steak is a picture like Stuart Gordon’s RE-ANIMATOR. There’s also a lot of sausages. Creepozoids is one of those sausages … but I’m learning.”

DeCoteau tied Empire’s loss of revenue to an aborted video output deal with New World Pictures, announced in August 1987, as the event which triggered Empire’s collapse. Over a two-year period, New World Video was to release five Empire titles, including Prison (1987), Cellar Dweller (1988), Buy & Cell (1988), Pulse Pounders (1988), and APPARATUS. “Empire made four of the pictures back to back,” said DeCoteau. “But because of the 1987 stock market crash, the deal between Empire and New World seemed to change; New World refused to pick up all of the Empire films as quickly as planned. They eventually released two of the films: PRISON, which had a limited theatrical run, and also CELLAR DWELLER, but the others are still being worked on.” Empire was purchased last May by Epic Pictures, a European financial consortium supervised by Eduard Sarlui, owner of Transworld Entertainment. “Basically, Empire and Transworld are owned by the same company,” said DeCoteau of the Epic umbrella. “Epic Pictures is finishing all the movies that Charlie [Band] started, which is a good dozen … ARENA, CATACOMBS, DOWN UNDER, SPELLCASTER, ROBOJOX.

DeCoteau, trained as a production assistant on films as diverse as ANGEL and Ken Russell’s CRIMES OF PASSION, made his debut as a producer-director with Empire on DREAMANIAC (1986), released on the company’s Wizard video label, distributed by Vestron. “I started pre-producing it as a picture called SUCCUBUS,” said DeCoteau. “Helen Robinson, who wrote the script knew the head of creative development at Empire Pictures, Debra Dion. Helen mentioned to Debi that she’d like to write a movie for Empire. Debi asked for a sample of her work and Helen gave her the SUCCUBUS script.” Empire, impressed with Robinson’s work, offered to purchase the screenplay; Robinson declined, insisting that De Coteau already owned it.

“Empire reacted by wanting to get involved in the production,” said DeCoteau. “Only four days before we were scheduled to start principal photography, I met Charlie Band, president of Empire Pictures.” Band not only doubled the movie’s original budget to $60,000, but vowed to reimburse DeCoteau for his personal investment “upon completion of principal photography.”

Wrapped in 15 days, the $70,000 movie was filmed in the abandoned studio of Hustler photographer Suze Randall. The film a blend of critters, slime and skin reunited DeCoteau with Kim McKamy, who made her film debut in DREAMANIAC. “Ironically,” remembers the director, “Kim refused to do any nudity. She was very shy and an all around sweet person.” McKamy later transformed herself into X-rated starlet Ashlyn Gere (aka Kim Patton), whose films-SORORITY SEX KITTENS, BUSH PILOTS, LAID IN HEAVEN—were about as demure as their titles.

“During a screening of the dailies,” recalls DeCoteau, “Charlie Band looked at me and held up ten fingers. I asked what it meant and he said, ‘Ten picture deal.’ I nearly fell out of my chair. We went upstairs, he drew up a contract and opened a $100 bottle of Dom Perignon champagne and we drank it out of Dixie cups. The next day, the cover of Daily Variety read in big bold letters, ‘CHV 10 PIC PACK DEAL WITH EMPIRE.’ [Cinema Home Video partner] John Schouweiler and I went crazy. I was only 25 years-old!

“Whenever Charles had big picture deals, I would be the slave to the market and make the smaller horror, erotic, high concept T&A movies…whatever was hot. I rarely did an ‘A’ movie for him, but I was constantly working.”

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

DeCoteau’s subsequent project for Empire was CREEPOZOIDS, produced as a Beyond Infinity release for $169,000. “We wanted to do our own version of ALIENS,” said DeCoteau. “So we put together a picture called MUTANT SPAWN 2000 and I was developing a picture called CREEPOZOIDS, which was actually a hybrid of GREMLINS and GHOULIES. We just flip flopped the titles, referring to the ALIENS rip-off as CREEPOZOIDS.”

“I first met David when he worked as a caterer on a short film called THE CAYTONSVILLE ELEVEN,” says Linnea Quigley. “I was excited to work with him. There’s no huge ‘I’m a director’ ego. He’s not into himself. He’s a good businessman and he talks about stuff besides movies. He even had vegetarian food for me every day, and warm Sparklett’s water for my lusty shower scene in CREEPOZOIDS.”

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

DeCoteau not only directed, but also functioned as the movie’s co producer and co writer. In spite of its diminutive budget, CREEPOZOIDS was theatrically released on a double-bill with SLAVE GIRLS FROM BEYOND INFINITY. The twin bill was released by Urban Classics, the theatrical arm of Empire’s Beyond Infinity video line. CREEPOZOIDS made the transition to video a few months later in January ’88, selling 15,000 tapes for Empire, according to DeCoteau.

DeCoteau’s next film for Empire, THE IMP, was limited to a shooting schedule of two weeks. Budgeted at $190,000, with ten per cent in above the line costs for DeCoteau’s expenses as director and co-producer, locations were selected outside of Los Angeles to conserve funds. “Los Angeles is the most expensive city in the world to make a movie,” said DeCoteau, “because of the permits, location costs, and everything like that. It’s hard to rent a basic middle-class tract house in the Valley for less than a grand a day. You have to go to places like San Marcos two hours south of Los Angeles–and you can get those same locations for $100 or $200. We found all of the cooperation there we really wanted.”

A moral (“be careful what you wish for, you may get it”) is extrapolated from the film’s title character, a mean-spirited genie. Since DeCoteau was not budgeted for elaborate special effects, he settled for a cable operated puppet to play the imp, preferring Grimm’s Fairy Tale simplicity to a “realistic” interpretation. Nevertheless, the movie proved to be so ambitious that the production exceeded its budget; extra expenses came out of DeCoteau’s own pocket.

“If we went over budget, our salaries were on the line,” said DeCoteau of Empire’s modus operandi. “So I walked away from THE IMP with very little money because I ended up spending some of my own salary on pick-up shots and things like that. Charlie (Band) isn’t the type to write you a check if you go over budget; you decide on a budget, you shake his hand, and either bring it in on budget or you don’t work anymore. I didn’t make much on that film, but such is life.”

In the film. Michelle Bauer, acquitted herself not only as a B-movie sex kitten but as a thoroughly credible actress and sterling comedienne. “David has a keen sense for people,” says Bauer. “There’s a side of him which is completely understanding. He’s more relaxed than most directors, and likes to have fun. When he was under pressure, it didn’t seem to affect the cast. He kept it under control. We were having fun as friends. It never seemed like we were working at all.”

Nevertheless, production of SORORITY BABES shot during evenings in a San Diego mall and adjacent bowling alley-was sometimes grueling. “There were personal conflicts among, some of the cast,” recalls Stevens. “The late Robin Rochelle Stille drank way too much on the set, and was always beating the crap out of Linnea in their fight scenes. Poor Linnea was constantly applying muscle rub to her many livid bruises. And she had to deal with the teenage angst of young co-star Andras Jones in the room next door. He even dumped his mattress over the hotel balcony, irrationally screaming, ‘I’m in my sexual prime!’ Andras went on to become a rather famous folk singer.”

Stevens experienced her own trauma, “dealing with another actress who clearly felt threatened by me and spared no punches while shooting our fight scenes. She pushed me down so hard, I dislocated my knee, which I had to pop back into place myself.” DeCoteau recounts, “It wasn’t pretty. She had to take four days off, but was a trouper…did her job without complaint.”

Flying furniture and torn ligaments notwithstanding, the set was infused with a party panache. “It’s the only film I’ve directed where I was continuously drunk,” chuckles DeCoteau, “— many people were! It had an open bar that we put to good use.”

“It’s one of my favorite films,” says Quigley, “because I played a tough girl and kept my clothes on. It’s fun to be mean.”

Charlie’s father, Albert Band, head of production at Empire, startled DeCoteau by insisting that nudity, playfully performed for slapstick scenes, “must” be trimmed from the director’s cut of the movie. DeCoteau, realizing nudity is a commercial exponent of the exploitation formula, appealed to Charles Band. Band inquired about the running time that was assembled for the movie’s rough cut. “I told him we were well under 80 minutes,” said DeCoteau, “When I shoot a picture, rarely does the final footage pass the 80-minute length. So they can’t do much editing because a feature-length film shouldn’t run that short. As a result, Charlie told me to put the nude scenes back in.”

Band retitled the picture SORORITY BABES IN THE SLIMEBALL BOWL-A-RAMA (according to DeCoteau, Band had wanted to make it BITCHIN’ SORORITY BABES … ) and released it theatrically through Urban Classics on a double bill with GALACTIC GIGOLO (originally titled CLUB EARTH), directed by Gorman Bechard.

Like DeCoteau, Bechard was another Band discovery whose independently financed feature PSYCHOS IN LOVE was picked up by Empire for release. Unlike DeCoteau, Bechard had nothing good to say about his stint at Band’s company. “I know what it’s like to be raped, “said Bechard about producing and directing two other features for Empire.

For his next feature, PSYCHOS IN LOVE, a black comedy (a “working woman” addresses the camera with “I guess I thought me being both a manicurist and a psychotic killer would, well, turn a guy off”), Bechard chose to ally himself with Empire.

“They offered me what I thought at the time was a good advance for PSYCHOS IN LOVE,” said Bechard. “I didn’t know better. And they offered me a four-picture deal with it, as an enticement to give them PSYCHOS IN LOVE. When you’re an independent filmmaker, finding the money is the worst thing in the world, and here I was able to do four pictures and pretty much have control. Charlie Band gave me tons of wonderful promises, saying, “Well, you can come up here, assist in the editing …,’ and all these other lines of bullshit. Being basically a fellow who wanted this very badly, I believed everything he said.”

CLUB EARTH, the first of Bechard’s four-picture deal with Empire, was an omen of the discord and mistrust that would sour the relationship. Bechard conceived the movie as a social satire involving an intergalactic tourist. Empire preferred to push CLUB EARTH as GALACTIC GIGOLO, and re-edited Bechard’s original cut into their concept of a more exploitable product.

“When I gave them PSYCHOS IN LOVE, I had it in writing that they wouldn’t change it at all,” said Bechard. “If I had not done that, they probably would have raped that film and it would have never been a film that I’m proud of. I am proud of PSYCHOS IN LOVE. But I think GALACTIC GIGOLO was sodomized by Charlie Band. We filmed it as a non-animated adult cartoon. That was my concept. We used the brightest colors … I mean, every different set looked like a color cartoon frame from the Sunday paper. In [color] timing the film, [Empire] took out all of the colors and left it really flat and ugly. Their editing and pacing is nothing short of pathetic; they left out some wonderfully funny stuff, and they left in all of the shit. Their motto is ‘when in doubt, cut to a pair of tits.’ I found out that CLUB EARTH was retitled GALACTIC GIGOLO through a brochure from Empire’s Urban Classics; they never had the decency to tell me they were changing the name of my movie.”

Bechard’s next film for Empire, a black comedy titled TEENAGE SLASHER SLUTS, was presold by the company in foreign markets as Assault of the Killer Bimbos (1988). “They found the word ‘sluts’ to be offensive,” said Bechard of Empire’s logic behind the title change. “And then they go and propose two other movies with the word ‘sluts’ in the title!” Empire eventually completed Bechard’s movie under the title HACK ‘EM HIGH, turning over the ASSAULT OF THE KILLER BIMBOS title to DeCoteau.

“That title presold so well, at [1987’s] American Film Market, it actually scored better than the movies in Empire’s bigger budgeted, non-Infinity division,” said DeCoteau. “Gorman Bechard completed the movie and set up a screening for Empire. It turned out to be a disappointment. Let’s just say that Gorman’s movie did not justify all of the enthusiasm. ASSAULT OF THE KILLER BIMBOS had to be brilliant, or close to it, considering the enormous presales money that was attracted from its title.”

Bechard said he deserves some of the credit for the title’s fabulous presales at the AFM, having instigated an eye-catching spread on the film in People magazine which featured Ruth Collins and Debi Thibeault, the actresses in his version. Bechard laid the blame for Empire’s dissatisfaction with the final film to the manner in which Band ran his company.

Charlie [Band] never read the script,” said Bechard. “I had the script approved by David Ross, who used to be in Empire’s development department, and by Debra Dion, who is now Charlie’s wife. I have a written letter from David Ross which says, ‘Yeh, we like the script. Just make a couple of little changes here and there.’ Basically, we agreed that it was good. Afterwards, I started filming and almost two or three weeks after we wrapped, Charlie calls me up and said he finally read the script. He said he didn’t like it. I don’t know how you run a company and allow someone to use your money to make a film without ever having read the script. That, to me, is not really the way to do business but, again, Empire is not the way to do business. When it became HACK EM HIGH, I said, ‘Wait a minute, there’s no hacking and there’s no high school.’ Of course, they came up with some new scenes that we had to reshoot which were along the lines of the usual Empire quality.”

While Empire fobbed off Bechard’s film as HACK ‘EM HIGH to foreign buyers at Milan’s Mifed Film Market, ASSAULT OF THE KILLER BIMBOS, scheduled for imminent release and eagerly awaited by distributors, existed as nothing more than a concept. Empire frantically searched for an existing script that would qualify as an adaptation of their most exploitable title.

Charles Band gave up WIZARD VIDEO after he ended his deal with VESTRON. WIZARD was distributed by LIGHTENING which was owned by VESTRON and when he left that deal and went over to NEW WORLD VIDEO which then he only released one movie with them, he started a new label called URBAN CLASSICS which he would handle the physical distribution eternally. He wouldn’t do a label deal and the first released was SLAVEGIRLS and that was doing pretty well and CREEPZOIDS was doing pretty well. And they were doing okay and then they started to make these movies back in Connecticut and they were making them cheaper in Connecticut than they were here in LA. They even had a guy out in New York, Tim Kincaid, who was making movies and those weren’t that bad. But there was a guy in Connecticut named Gorman Bechard who I guess was not only producing, writing, and directing, he was the cameraman and he did lights. And he was making these 35mm movies for only $30,000. Charlie was going wow, I got this great deal. And I was saying, Charlie if you want to give me $30,000 I’ll give you $30,000 but it’s going to look like $30,000. But give me $75,000 – $90,000 and you’ll get better movies. But anyway. Gorman did his first movie and what happened was this major snafu with ASSAULT OF THE KILLER BIMBOS. It was pre-sold with huge amounts of numbers and the URBAN CLASSICS films were presented to foreign buyers as pictures made between $1-2 million. He was showing these films to people overseas after he made them to the movie here and I brought in another director, Anita Rosenberg, who at the time didn’t think she knew what she was doing. But it ended up being the best of the URBAN CLASSICS movies. – Director Dave DeCoteau on the start of URBAN CLASSICS

A serviceable script, described by DeCoteau as a “generic but cute girls-on-the run” adventure, was considered from screenwriter Anita Rosenberg, who had previously written MODERN GIRLS for Atlantic Pictures. DeCoteau postponed his preparation of Beyond Infinity’s SPACE SLUTS IN THE SLAMMER to direct the movie. Rosenberg, however, demanded complete autonomy.

Anita Rosenberg

According to DeCoteau, “Rosenberg told Empire, ‘Sure, I’ll sell you the script for 100 grand.’ I said, ‘What do you mean, 100 grand? We pay five grand per script!’ She said, “I’ll sell it to you for five grand if you let me direct it.’ I said, “What other films have you done?’ She said, ‘Nothing, though I have done a short film.’ Empire looked at her short film, thought it was adequate enough, and agreed to let Rosenberg direct it.” DeCoteau was hired as producer for “double the usual budget and triple his customary salary.

Though he was reimbursed for services rendered on GALACTIC GIGOLO and HACK ‘EM HIGH, Bechard claims he was shortchanged on the proceeds from PSYCHOS IN LOVE. “We were promised wonderful percentages of the gross, not of the net, on the film,” said Bechard. “I made sure they couldn’t pull any accounting tricks. But they did pull a great accounting trick; they just never bothered reporting to us. We were supposed to be getting quarterly statements and checks. We never got anything. My letters to Charlie Band, complaining about this situation, and the shabby treatment of my films, were ignored.”

A forthcoming documentary by Kathy Milani, B-MOVIE, traces the production of HACK ‘EM HIGH from the film’s preproduction phase to Band’s phone call alerting Bechard of Empire’s resistance to his adaptation of “a script that Band, up to that point, had not read.” Bechard promises B-MOVIE will enlighten prospective filmmakers to the hazards of low-budget filmmaking. (Milani is currently seeking completion funds and or grants.)

Meanwhile, Bechard is also exorcising his frustrations with Empire through a manual titled “Assault of the Independent Filmmaker;” as the book’s author, Bechard vowed to “paint a no holds-barred picture of the making of each of my films, from the detailed budgets to the whole filming process, to dealing with not-always reputable distributors and investors. Filmmaking is, unfortunately, the sleaziest business in the world, and it bothers me that I can’t picture myself doing anything else.”

When Empire hit the financial skids last year, some theatrical projects like GHOULIES II and CELLAR DWELLER went straight to home video while others were shelved as incomplete. For a company that in the past boasted production agendas cluttered with a dozen titles pegged as either in production “or” in preparation,” in 1988 Empire launched only one-Dave DeCoteau’s Dr. Alien (1989) (I Was a Teenage Sex Mutant), started on a budget of $400.000. The company folded before production was finished.

But Band opened up shop again late last year, calling his new operation the Bandcompany, like Empire specializing in international sales, with a video line dubbed Phantom Home Video, and a production arm called Full Moon Productions. Band’s first announced project was Edgar Allan Poe’s THE PIT AND THE PENDULUM, to be directed by Stuart Gordon. “He’s back into making pictures,” said DeCoteau. “He won’t be making as many and they won’t be as cheap.”

When Band jumped ship from Empire, his deal to sell the company gave him ownership of a trio of productions, according to DeCoteau. Band used the films, including DeCoteau’s I WAS A TEENAGE SEX MUTANT, THE INTRUDER (formerly NIGHT CREW), and JUNGLE HEAT (formerly PIRANHA WOMEN) to form his new company and subsequently negotiated a contract with Paramount Home Video for their release. I WAS A TEENAGE SEX MUTANT, now retitled DR. ALIEN!, was scheduled to be released in November.

Interview with Dave DeCoteau

Looking back on the beginning of your career, how would you appraise Dreamaniac? Dave DeCoteau: Dreamaniac was an experiment; it was my little film school project, wrapped up in ten days. It was like learning how to do it, and learning how do it quickly, because I only had ten days to learn a career’s worth of information and make a decent movie. It was made on a $60,000 budget.

The ending of Dreamaniac-with the abrupt disclosure of a succubus as a mental patient-seems like a postproduction afterthought. Who was responsible for the cop-out compromise? Dave DeCoteau: Me. I decided to go with kind of a triple-twist ending, just for the hell of it, since the film had nothing else to offer.

Your films have gotten even more exposure on cable TV, what with broadcasts on USA, Pay-Per-View… Dave DeCoteau: But, you know, Creepozoids and Sorority Babes In The Slimeball Bowl A-Rama did better, during their original release, in foreign territories than domestically. We were well received in Britain. Creepozoids was number seven on the Top Ten Selling-Rental charts during the month of its release; The Untouchables was number eight! Sorority Babes, released in the United Kingdom as The Imp, did almost as good business as Creepozoids.

What’s the background of Sorority Babes In The Slimeball Bowl-A-Rama, your most unique movie? Dave DeCoteau: Charlie (Band) wanted, a “little genie” movie to be called The Imp. I came in the next day, and read off five story lines. The fifth one was a joke, never intended to be taken seriously, about a little genie that was squished inside a bowling trophy back in the 50s and unleashed upon some sorority babes and fraternity initiates on Hell Night. Charlie liked that concept more than any of the other ones, and we decided to go with it.

There’s a frantic chase scene, near the conclusion of Sorority Babes, without music on the soundtrack. Was this intentional or an accidental omission? Dave DeCoteau: The music channel of the entire Reel Seven did not make it to the one inch video master. When you do a final mix on a picture, you mix sound on three stripes-the dialogue, the music, and a (sound) effects track. You do the video mastering by taking your film, and your three channels of sound, and putting them onto broadcast-quality one-inch video tape for half-inch duplication. When they transferred the entire show, they accidentally forgot to drop the music channel from Reel Seven; they only transferred two channels, the dialogue and effects. The music’s omission marred the film. Fifteen or twenty-thousand copies of the tape went out without the musical channel on Reel Seven, which is the climax of the film and (originally) had an incredible musical score. I was very upset because Empire, at the time, did not let me quality control the one-inch masters. First-time viewers of Sorority Babes may prefer to hum their own theme.

Tell me where did you come up with the title SORORITY BABES IN THE SLIME BOWL-O-RAMA? Dave DeCoteau: I didn’t come up with the title. It was shot as THE IMP and Charlie Band came up with the title. He had a little I fun to watch. The experience was a lot of fun, Making movies is never really been that much fun. The two best days of making a movie is the day you get the financing and the rap party. And everything between is a pain in the fucking ass. You always have to compromise, you can’t do exactly what you want to do. Because the budgets are so low the schedules are tight and you can’t always get the actors you want and you get the actor, you could only use him for a couple days and you can’t use him for any overtime. The process is real tough. And I think PUPPETMASTER III as being my best film in most people’s eyes but just had a horrendous time making that film.

Which of your pre-Doctor Alien (1989) films is your favorite? Dave DeCoteau: I have to admit I have this bizarre affection for Creepozoids, I don’t know what it is, but when I was making that film I really took it deadly serious and expected it to be a lot better than it was. The reviews have been horrible, but-God!-every time I show it to somebody, they kind of, like, smile. It’s actually a serious attempt, whereas all the other films we’ve been doing seem to be a little campy or silly.

Didn’t Creepozoids get positive reviews in Europe? Dave DeCoteau: Excellent reviews! The United Kingdom is asking for a sequel and they’re ready to cut a check to finance it. Unfortunately, I don’t have the sequel rights to that film, so I probably won’t do it.

You made some of your past films for under $200,000. What was the budget on Doctor Alien? Dave DeCoteau: About $400,000. It’s a home video, a damn good example of direct-to-video product. I love it. It’s a very entertain. ing film for me, and everyone seems to enjoy it. The only problem about not releasing it theatrically is that it is a comedy, and comedies work very well with large audiences. I’m going to screen it for the Science Fiction Academy here, and for a few other people.

Why did you choose a more mainstream celebrity-Judy Landers-for Doctor Alien and Ghost Writer? Dave DeCoteau: When we were casting for the Doctor Alien role of Ms. Xenobia, we wanted to go with a Mary Woronov type. Well, we auditioned hundreds of Mary Woronov, Barbara Steele and Caroline Munroe types, and we realized it just didn’t work the way it was written… it wasn’t funny. So I said, “Let’s bring Judy in for a hoot.” I just wanted to meet the girl. She came in with the scenes memorized and gave us a reading, and we were falling on the floor laughing our heads off. She played it so wonderful, and so funny, that she was perfect for the part.

With the exception of your first film, Dreamaniac, your movies have avoided the “sex begets violence” syndrome. Did you consciously reject this routine premise? Dave DeCoteau: Yeah… women are not victims in my films. A female victim in my films is very, very rare. Women are the aggressors in my movies, they’re the ones who save the day. Look at Linnea Quigley in Sorority Babes: she never showed a nipple and she kicked ass, and she saved the day…

The History of Empire Films Part Five The rise of Empire as a low budget producer with their “Beyond Infinity” video line resembles the start-up of AIP during the drive-in boom of the late '50s, when a definite market existed for a certain product: films for the teenage audience, the wilder and more outrageous the better.

[renaramblesaboutcomics]

Wednesday Roundup 25.9.2017

Okay, so I had another huge comic week, and looking forward this might be the last time that really happens for a while since at least three of these issues are here due to previous delays. and I’m trying pretty desperately to cut down on comics I’m subscribed to now. Which just emphasizes the fact that this week made it SO much more difficult to declare that because there was so much good.

... There was also some hilarious outrage on my part, too, so if you’re here for that you will not be disappointed.

Image’s Black Magick, DC’s Detective Comics, DC’s Harley Quinn and Batman, Marvel’s Immortal Iron Fists, Marvel’s Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur, DC’s Nightwing, Image’s Saga, IDW’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Dark Horse’s Zodiac Starfore: Cries of the Fire Prince

Image’s Black Magick (2015-present) #8 Greg Rucka, Nicola Scott

Have I mentioned lately how Nicola Scott may be the most gifted artist in the industry in a while? Not since last month? Well we are definitely well past due time!

Story: Things are ramping up as the Hammer’s members increase their numbers and keep close watch on Rowan while Rowan settles things with her partner only to be manipulated once again by the terrifying forces of these unknown entities with that creepy AF girl with the stitched up mouth. That is a lot of stuff being unpacked in one issue and yet the moving parts never feel like they’re incongruent or taking away from each other. Seeing Rowan’s familiar watching the Hammer members, seeing Rowan struggle to be more open with her partner, and then seeing her old demons (literally) beginning to come to her work and haunt her there (literally and figuratively) all feels like it moves perfectly together.

I just really wish we didn’t have to do a “gay scare” which is a bit disappointing from Rucka, honestly. Haha get it Rowan was worried that her partner was onto her for being a witch and he just was mad because he thought she wasn’t coming out to him and it’s just all a good laugh. Or at least I would be laughing if either Alex or Rowan were confirmed queer women and so it isn’t just that he’s well meaning but oblivious while... literally taking away the possibility of representation. 

Maybe this will be corrected later in that very way! Who knows, I’ll be relieved if it is, but until then it feels like an unnecessary marring of what is otherwise a great story I’ve been enjoying.

Art:  I mean... just look at it! Nicola Scott is... arguably the best artist in comics right now. Her work is phenomenal and nothing presents that fact more than just how expertly she manages the medium in almost any way and how it adapts based on the type of story she’s writing. It’s very special for an artist’s style to work as well in a bombastic, colorful superhero comic then turn around and hit the perfect contrast of noir and witchcraft narratives. And all of her characters are distinct and especially her variety of noses, it’s simply gorgeous.

Nicola Scott very well may be the best artist in the business right now and any comic company that doesn’t snatch her up for major titles is foolish, honestly.  

DC’s Detective Comics (2016-present) #965 James Tynion IV, Eddy Barrows, Eber Ferreira, Adriano Lucas

Well, it’s weird to say but if there was any issue for me to read before I took a short break from ‘Tec I am so glad it was this one. Which has all the makings of a backhanded compliment but we’ll see where I take it. Probably will seem like a backhanded compliment but I’m going to try to swing it toward positive.

Story: So I’ve been pretty sure I was going to drop ‘Tec for the upcoming storyline and then jump on again later for the next one, similar to how I did for the Monster Men crossover event, but I was really curious about Tim’s return and more specifically about the context of Tynion bringing Tim back which made me pretty excited for this comic. I love Tim Drake of old and reading this issue reinforced the fact that this current Tim Drake is the Tim of the 90s that I fell in love with -- the dork who loved Batman and Robin so much he put his life at risk to save the legacy of his heroes. And while this issue culminated mostly in a “slideshow” of Tim’s retconned retconned history bringing us back to the Tim origins from “A Lonely Place of Dying”, it actually felt really loving and refreshing to see the character I grew to love so much back in action. 

I don’t care one bit about this Evil Future or Mister Oz or literally anything else going on right now. In fact I find that whole crossover tedious enough I dropped Superman a while back but I really did feel like I needed this reminder that we’re supposed to be reading this Rebirth Tim as the Tim we knew and cared about in the past. And that made this issue on its own worthwhile to me. 

Art: Eddy Barrows is an excellent artist, through and through. The coloring’s fantastic, the art itself dynamic. Even with a familiar storyline and setup that we’ve all read before, he manages to find ways to make it read as unique and new through subversive angles and set ups. I really enjoyed his take on everything from Tim’s past. But even great artists sometimes fail the Batmanequin challenge. Which is, can anyone tell who the Batboys are apart from each other when they’re all the same age. The answer is no. His Tim looks identical to his Bruce to his Jason to his Dick and most of the time to his Damian and we’ve really got to change that at some point or else there will be a singularity of Batboys and we will all be sucked into an artistic blackhole and not in the fun way.

DC’s Harley Quinn and Batman (2017) #4 Ty Templeton, Rick Burchett

After this issue there’s only one issue left and in all honesty.... it’s about time we had some real emotional direction actually driving this comic because I’ve been asking for the last few issues “where is any of this going”. And since I all but refuse to watch the animated movie sharing a similar name, it’s that much more confusing for me trying to figure out what exactly this is all culminating in. 

Story: Like I said, we’re finally getting some real tension in this issue as we have Harley confronting Ivy, it becoming more and more obvious that Ivy has a genuine problem with rejecting her own humanity for the sake of becoming as much of a plant as possible, and we also get that emotional catharsis of Ivy at least somewhat confessing that Harley is the only person she cares about. And it’s obviously a deep and intimate form of caring. She’s pained by the potential of Harley’s rejection and offended at the assumption that Harley would think of herself as anything less than her partner. But this comic, like all of comic canon, just refuses to give us THE WORDS. I’m so tired of partner being emphasized instead of girlfriend. I’m tired of cared being acceptable substitution for love. And I’m REALLY tired of Harley and Ivy only being portrayed as sexy and into each other in a way that’s meant to be attractive to guys. I’m not a guy. I’m a woman who likes other women. And I would like for this relationship, if it’s to be real on any level, be treated respectfully and given canonicity. Maybe we’ll get that next issue. I’m hoping, but since next issue is the last I’m not exactly expecting much. 

Dick and Bruce are... still fun? I guess. It’s not really their story and I’m not sure why Batman’s even in the title at this point. His addition to this story culminates in a “not really”

Art: I gave Rick Burchett’s first two issues a hard time, especially compared to the guest artist for last issue, but this issue really had him stepping up his game and reminding us all why he’s been working with these characters and especially this style for the past twenty or more years. He really nails it... though it still has that edge of lacking refinement that we might see in something other than a digital first comic, the colors are really enhanced, the character and background art more detailed and controlled, and just overall this was a very pleasant looking and well laid out issue. Great work all around

Marvel’s Immortal Iron Fists (2017) #5 (of 6) Kaare Andrews, Afu Chan, Shelly Chen

We’re beginning to near an ending for this miniseries and I am growing an ominous, horrible feeling that I am desperately hoping is completely off base and unfounded outside of my constant apprehension of trusting comics too much. But we’ll get into that.

Story: As we left off last time, it was the culmination of all the storylines that we had seen building up in Immortal Iron Fists before then, Pei and her friends, the popularity drama that was the school dance, Danny’s feelings of responsibility and pride, the ten scrolls of Mara, and the strangely backward advice of the babysitter that Pei had been receiving throughout. And it all came down to a climactic battle with Danny and Pei finally at long last fighting side by side, both as the Immortal Iron Fist.

But suddenly there can only be.... one? And to save the world and inherit her responsibility as the Immortal Iron Fist, Pei had to choose whether or not she would take the dragon’s heart straight from Danny himself and use his chi to defeat Mara and his legion of demons. Which, of course, Pei refused and chose instead to sacrifice her own chi so that Danny could save the world.

This apparently erased Pei from reality and everyone’s memories in one solid swipe and sent her... to hell?? Where Brenda, who was in the storyline that brought Pei into the comics but has not been a factor through all of this miniseries, is a zombie champion fighter who saves Pei and her classmate that’s been in the coma because Mara was planning to use his body for his resurrection and also the popular girl, Danny’s girlfriend for an issue, an the babysitter are all daughters of Mara who are responsible for all this chaos. 

And I genuinely feel like there’s been a lot of missed opportunities in the previous four issues that would have allowed this to be set up more. And that’s what is leading to the worries I mentioned in the opening. As far as I’ve seen, in Defenders or the solicits for Immortal Iron Fist, Pei has not been allowed to make much of an impact outside of Andrews’ runs. And.... I would really hate that a series that has sold e SO hard on Pei and on a new spin on Danny Rand to be a series that gives Marvel an easy out to erase those very things. 

We have one issue left to go so I suppose we’ll have to wait and see in that regard.

Art: It’s still good art, still all-ages, but I’m starting to grow the opinion thanks to @secretlystephaniebrown and mine’s insightful talks that comis with cute art and lots of slapstick are pretty much utilizing a certain style to undermine dramatic writing or consequences in fear of being genuine. Or, in terms, bathos. And I really hope that’s not the intentions here because the relationship between Danny and Pei are genuinely sweet and good and if that’s the intention I really hate that comics don’t have the confidence to be dramatic fully in heart. 

Marvel’s Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur (2015-present) #23 Brandon Montclare, Natacha Bustos, Tamra Bonvillain

I’m worried about my favorite adorable team of superheroes. How can there be a Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur if there is no Devil Dinosaur? But also... is this the inevitable end? Are there not more adventures to come of our favorite world class genius and dinosaur? According to solicits there’s more for Lunella but is there more for the friendship that warmed our hearts? Are any of us truly ready to say goodbye?

Story: Legitimately I have no idea what’s going to happen next with this comic because it seems like Lunella is sidekick hunting for the next couple of issues, so the real question is how ready did this issue make us to move on from the loving friendship between a girl from Yancey Street and her bumbling dinosaur? Honestly, compared to the majority of the tight and loving writing of this series, it doesn’t feel like this conclusion was something we were very well prepared for. Sure, Moon Boy and Devil Dinosaur are something we know of vaguely from other comics, but the anticlimax of the goodbye, and just how obvious it was that neither Lunella nor Devil were ready for it made the profound loneliness of this move feel so dissatisfying. Especially when Lunella returns to a doombot empty base instead of going home and emphasizes the strangeness even more. 

I’m hopeful that this is set up, but I’m always on high alert for books like this that could easily be canceled by Marvel and worried about ending on a note I really wouldn’t want it to.

Art: As always, the art for this book is gorgeous and the coloring is fascinating and eye popping. The cooler hues this time around really helped with the more subdued and sadder tone of the comic which made the actions toward the end not only more disconcerting but plainly just more heartbreaking. It was an excellent choice and incredibly subtle but effective. This is a creative team that truly understands their crafts more than the vast majority of people in the industry today, and that’s saying something since quality is not exactly in short supply in recent years. 

DC’s Nightwing (2016-present) Vol. 3: Nightwing Must Die Tim Seeley, Javier Fernandez, Chris Sotomayor

So I don’t.... really have any surprises in the works for those of you who follow my main blog at @renaroo who got to witness me liveblogging my experience reading this comic yesterday, but I’ll just put it definitively on the record here: Uh. Not a good effort here, guys. And this is officially the last thing written by Tim Seeley this gal is going to be picking up. Which I’m getting really tired of saying about writers who handle either one of my main two DC dudes -- Dick or Terry. Can we just... have anyone... care a little more? A bit?

Story: Okay so there’s about three plots going on at the same time during this comic and I’m going to address them in the three and then talk about the One Issue That Doesn’t Fit after. So four parts: The Robin Story, The Baby Story, and The Batman Story, and then The Good One. The way the plot is laid out you could argue that these three are interwoven enough to deserve going in a linear basis but I would argue no not really. Please take note that the title of this storyline according to the trade cover is “Nightwing Must Die”, a callback to the climax of Morrison’s run on the original Batman and Robin (2009-2011) series titled “Batman and Robin Must Die”. No, I’m not nerdy and observant, this thing is determined to hit you over the head with this allusion at every turn. 

The Robin Story: Damian who has basically been forcefully emancipated from Bruce and sent to live across the country with the Teen Titans rather than ... idk just be sent to Gotham Academy which is a boarding school anyway, is pissed because internet forums have declared that the original Robin -- aka Dick -- is the best Robin and Damian sucks. Why Damian suddenly cares about 4Chan is beyond me but here we are. Now, despite there being an overly long and obnoxious storyline in Batman and Robin (2011-2015) called “War of the Robins” where Damian already went through this and beat up all his predecessors sans Dick because they have an actual relationship, or the entirety of “Robin: Son of Batman”, or the huge storyline “Robin Wars” where there were 30 Robins including Duke Thomas all over Gotham and something I didn’t pay attention to about the Court of Owls and Lincoln March -- this is a useless subplot that makes no sense for the characters or relationship that has already been established by Damian and Dick here. That’s what I’m saying. 

Because this story isn’t interested in getting Damian right or doing him any service. This is dedicated to Dick in... about the worst way. And the weak motivation for getting Damian in Blüdhaven in order to reinact the events of “Batman and Robin Must Die” are so contrived that there’s really this feeling of “we need Damian in Blüdhaven come up with an excuse later” instead of it being something organic. For example: Damian is quick to bring up his concerns that Dick staying in Blüdhaven and starting a new life with Shawn is because he’s trying to become Batman of his “own franchise” and that he’s abandoning the rest of the family. This is really disconnected from the motivation of “who’s the best Robin” and would make more sense on a character level if Damian went to Blüdhaven of his own volition because of that concern to begin with. He feels pushed out of the family, and with Tim’s death he’s upset and surprised by Dick’s seeming abandonment of everyone else. Including him. The Robin with THE most abandonment issues this side of Jason Todd. Why not bring up something along the lines of “you haven’t been home since the funeral”. That would contrast the themes of family, Dick and Damian’s relationship, and Dick’s supposed worries about personal responsibility all at once. 

This isn’t how that was handled and I am suspicious as to why. because we had to have that awful, ugly -- for me personally inexcusable -- panel where Dick tells Damian that he knows no one can balance being a superhero and having a secondary identity because Bruce sucks at it SO BAD that he now has the “burden” of being a father to a bunch of Batkids which he follows up with “And the one I think suffers the most from this is you, Damian. His only real son.” 

So. You know. Fuck themes about nonconventional families and adoption I guess. Tim Seeley, go kick your own ass because you don’t even deserve the ass kicking from me.

It might seem like I’m being harsh but this one moment is SO hugely stupid and never brought up again or refuted later to the point that not only is it gross on a real world level, it actually REALLY weakens the theme of families and the such through the rest of the story specifically because there’s now this big ugly turd of a plot thread looming and never dealt with. 

Professor Pyg and Doctor Hurt are back from Dick and Damian’s time as Batman and Robin and theyve made a bunch of disgusting Dollatrons specifically of Damian and Dick, or Robintron and Deathwing. This actually matters a lot less to the story than you might actually think because Robintron and Deathwing don’t have a relationship outside of being made to believe they’re Robin and Nightwing and one ultimately kills the other once they remember this. It’s symbolic because the Robintron was in Dick’s original Robin suit and Deathwing was in the New52 Nightwing suit do you get it do you get it do you get what they’re trying to say here it’s clever. Anyway. 

The symbolism on a meta level is pretty on the nose “The New52 Dick killed the innocence of the old timey Golden Age Dick la da da” but in story we don’t really have Damian go through an arc or actually develop as a result of this matter and neither does Dick. Does Dick feel like his identity as Nightwing has killed his relationship with Damian? With his other family? With his idealistic self? It doesn’t... seem like it. Dick just kind of... punches Doctor Hurt after he decides that tragedy doesn’t define him... or something. It was from the hallucinations and like a whole issue later from Deathwing killing Robintron. And then Deathwing and Doctor Hurt kill each other by stabbing and falling rocks. Both ways in which villains have NEEEVVVEEERRRRR returned from the dead from before so I’m sure they’re gone forever.

So the Robin Storyline as a whole? it kinda comes to a conclusion with a genuinely nice two page spread where Dick and Damian talk about missing each other and missing their time as Batman and Robin. Dick even confesses something that would have brought all these storylines together rather nicely if it was done correctly: when Bruce came back to be Batman, Dick thought of staying as Batman, too in order to stay with Damian and train and raise him. But ultimately he thought, at the time, that he wasn’t old enough or ready enough to take that responsibility. 

Dick was not ready to be a father but now he looks back at himself and who he is now and is ready for another go, with Damian or with his own children in the future. ... EXCEPT that reading of how the themes would play out are completely undermined and broken beyond repair by having Dick say that UNBELIEVABLE comment about how Damian is the only REAL son to Bruce and that the “Batfamily” aren’t a unit like that. Therefore the Robin Storyline doesn’t really have a conclusion. 

Damian’s going to go back to San Francisco and still get pissed at /b/, there’s no family unit for anyone to reflect on, and.... the baby storyline:

The Baby Storyline: I could sum this up with one gif. I really could. I’m not going to but because I know this is only entertaining to hear me yell for an extent, have the gif anyway:

Now I’ll go into what actually bothered me about this storyline. Because this is tied to Dick’s relationship with Shawn and their pregnancy scare alone, and we see Dick freaking out at the possibility of the immense responsibility he may be stepping into, it actually genuinely had the potential to be a huge deal, a big game changer, something that actually would have developed both their characters and really questioned what they would be doing going forward with their lives. Would they both give up their costume lives? Would they move from Blüdhaven if they’re not defending the streets and it’s a terrible part of town? Would the baby have superheroes in its life from an early age?

It doesn’t matter because in what could probably be the weakest fake out ever, Shawn’s not pregnant she’s just... apparently not as regular as she once assumed. Which, hey, I hear that that happens fairly often for my fellow uterus havers and you know what? They’re young adults in their first serious relationship so I actually get the freakout from both of them. 

But it doesn’t end up meaning anything other than Dick screams at Damian a few times that they have to save his “girlfriend AND baby” and for some reason Damian just goes with it because Damian of course has never before in his life ever shown signs of jealousy and concerns about conditional love. 

The biggest problem beyond the fact that this plot’s resolution is a huge PSYCH spitting in everyone’s face is that... what... was the tie-in here? 

Was it JUST the drama of “PHEWWWW dodged that bullet, now let’s go give Sandy a makeover”? I guess so. 

Because if this was actually tied to the plots of the storyline it would have ended with at least one speech from Dick to Shawn, to his monologue, or to Damian that back when he returned to being Nightwing because he feared being too young and to unprepared to take responsibility for raising Damian, he had been wrong. He’s not ready because no one is, but he has a relationship with Damian that proves that he’s more than ready to be a father then and now. That he might not do it Bruce’s way because he didn’t like Bruce’s priorities, but he would find a way to balance all the aspects of his life and so can Shawn.

But that would require this story to... care about Shawn’s character more. 

I actually like Shawn? I want to see more of her and I think there’s a lot of potential there, but at the end of this story outside of genuinely good moments, like the time with her and Deathwing where she tries to soothe him, she’s... just a damsel to be rescued? Just a possible babymomma for tension?

If she was more than that, then the plot would have given her more to do once she joined Dick and Damian. Like even ONE scene of her and Damian playing off of each other in the aftermath would have done wonders, made her more than just an attachment for the advancement of Dick’s character, but we get more development for Deathwing and Robintron than for the potential love of Dick’s life.

Kidding. DC would never let Babs and Dick have actual meaningful romances outside of each other anymore. Just like DC will never let them have meaningful romances with each other!

So this was a trip into a cul de sac of disappointment. 

Also condoms condoms condoms condoms condoms boys and girls. Wrap it before you tap it. 

Or be a lesbian. But that’s my answer for everything.

#Shawn Tsang deserves better #Hollatchagirl

The Batman Story: Oh, Bruce. How your shadow lingers large over all things that have nothing to do with you. 

This is the “actual” plot. The one about Shawn being kidnapped and it all ending up being a plot by Professor Pyg and Doctor Hurt to relive the “Batman and Robin Must Die” storyline because....

Well. That’s the problem.

Doctor Hurt, as much as I really wasn’t a fan of that storyline under Morrison, served a very specific purpose. He was the antithesis to Dick when it came to Bruce’s legacy. Dick was his ward but also Bruce’s light and when he ascended to becoming Batman he took most of that with him and grew into the cape, so to speak. He embodied the detective work that Bruce taught him (finding the clues in the mantle that found the secret door), he embodied the friendship (taking his place as Batman on several superhero teams), and most importantly he embodied the head of the family. Alfred gave him advice, but Dick kept the Batfamily together as best he could, specifically by raising Damian as Bruce had raised him. And none of it was easy. 

Doctor Hurt worked as a villain to Dick’s Batman because he embodied the worst of Bruce’s darkness. The strange and forgotten stories of the past, the psychological horror, the devilish iconography. Those things that were Gritty McBadBat about Bruce were never things that Dick was going to embody as Batman. And that’s why Doctor Hurt and him battled, basically over the heart of Damian: Robin, the partner, the son, the future of the cowl. 

I didn’t like “Batman and Robin Must Die” because rather than have a huge statement about choosing the direction for Batman’s future by having Dick battle and defeat Doctor Hurt and his continuity drag, Morrison literally deus ex machina’d by having Bruce travel back through time and save Dick and Damian and basically take control immediately. It was such an anticlimax to both Dick and Damian’s arc even though Morrison tried to play it off as being the culmination of Dick and Damian and everyone else looking for Bruce plus Bruce’s “Return of Bruce Wayne” storyline. It’s messy and just feels like “whatever” at the end. 

I don’t like it here because .... Dick’s not Batman. He and Damian aren’t partners. Neither of those things have been factors for either of those characters for six years now and, I hate to break it to everyone here, but at least one of them was “dead” for at least three of those years anyway. 

Doctor Hurt is a Dick Grayson villain, but he is not a Nightwing villain. And the attempt to make him one here fell incredibly flat. 

Also why was Professor Pyg there? Does Professor Pyg now know Dick and Damian’s secret identities too? Was that throw away line about him building dollatrons for Hurt meant to tell us that no only Hurt knows the identities? How is that much better? Why does everyone know Dick’s identity and he doesn’t care? Why doesn’t Damian care that the random Robintron knows his full name and who his father is? Why doesn’t Dick? If only Hurt knows then how did Pyg brainwash Robintron and Deathwing? If Pyg didn’t why did Hurt need Pyg to brainwash them for this since he apparently already knows how?

This story basically sacrificed all logic within the story itself to tie-in Dick’s time as Batman, which he doesn’t want to go back to and isn’t  even tempted to go back to throughout the story, purely to justify having the Bat as part of the cover logo still. That’s it. 

The Good One: There’s a one shot at the very end of this volume, #21, that’s definitely filler in between storylines but is actually the best thing in this entire volume. Probably the best of this run of Nightwing I’ve read and... apparently will ever read since I’ve paid my penance and given Seeley’s turn a chance. It’s a classic team up between Dick and Wally with a pretty inventive villain named “Timebomb”. It’s funny, has a lot of heart, the coloring isn’t muted garbage, and it features some high stakes without losing its sense of fun. It’s a good issue. I would actually implore fans of Dick and Wally to pick it up. It does a great service to their friendship.

Art: The art is good, the entire “Nightwing Must Die” part was colored in this muted, pasty way that basically made all backgrounds feel like they weren’t a part of the scenes and made all humans look dead or undead as it were to the point that Dick and Damian -- both canonically characters of color and occasionally colored to match it -- have the same pallor of the rotting corpse faces sewn onto Robintron and Deathwing.

The exception is the blue used for Nightwing’s costume and gear and for Shawn’s hair because.... idk. I guess we’re supposed to guess that they’re important to the comic or something. 

No seriously, I love the art but they have to buy some more markers. I appreciate that you can only do so much when supplies are low but c’mon.

It’s a joke I know it’s a style choice I just don’t like the style.

But I emphasize again, the art is good. I just personally would go for the last issue’s coloring more than the main storyline’s. 

Image’s Saga (2012-present) #47 Fiona Staples, Brian K. Vaughn

The real question comes to be... will Saga ever have a truly bad issue? I doubt it. Like at this point I’m not really sure what a bad Saga issue would even look like, but I think there’s absolutely no doubt that mediocre issues or issues that were more build up for what is to come can exist. Again, I give backhanded compliments here but I mean them... in the best way possible? Never mind, these cold opens are hard.

Story: We don’t progress too awfully much in this issue. The Will is captured by a vengeful victim’s wife who means to torture him by making him suffer and forcing him to see the very people he loves die.... until money gets involved and suddenly like everyone else she wants to capture Hazel and company to make the big starbucks. But, strangely for Saga, for the first time in this series we really don’t.... go anywhere with this issue outside of what’s taking place with the Will’s torture. There’s no scenes exploring what’s going on with the other groups, there’s no narration from future Hazel, we’re left with the Will, his past we haven’t seen yet, and his current circumstances. 

Now this could make sense, the jumping around Will’s past is in place of jumping around the stars, and how could Hazel ever know what’s happening to the Will here, but it just all feels like a departure from the near omnipotence of Saga’s story before. And mostly it just feels like a setup for explaining how we get all the characters gathered for the next part of the story. And that’s.... not as cool as it could be. 

It’s definitely a weaker entry for Saga overall, but that’s like saying a TV show with 100 episodes may have some that aren’t perfect.

Art: Fiona Staples’ art continues to be the star of the series, but perhaps because of the restraints of the setup, this isn’t the most visually creative or wildest design ideas she’s had in this series. The reveal of the shrew woman’s face felt.... anticlimactic compared to some of the truly out there examples of aliens unlike anything I’ve ever imagined before and it made the pause for the joke “my husband was nearly as beautiful as me” feel like... “have you seen what some of the other alien species look like????”

Likewise the backgrounds of both the flashbacks and of the room Will’s tortured in are not as wild as we’ve seen before, but I have to say the creative idea of the floating prism in space kind of makes up for it because that was creative and visually awing. Again, much like the story itself, the art only suffers because in comparison to the rest of Saga I’m only kind of blown away and not totally blown away. 

IDW’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2011-present) #74 Kevin Eastman, Tom Waltz, Cory Smith, Ronda Pattison

Man we are just in the forest for transitions in storylines right now. Nothing is bad but nothing is standing out and I was expecting much the same with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles considering that we’re on Part II of the Trial of Kraang, but you know, it wouldn’t be TMNT if they weren’t continuing to surprise me.

Story: So this is a court drama because if there’s one thing that TMNT is dedicated to it is DOING ALL OF THE THINGS and apparently court drama hadn’t been checkmarked yet so here we are. And as someone who really genuinely likes the minutia of continuity and rules and regulations of different worlds and the way laws work in different universes, I found things fairly compelling. Not the least of which because of the smart use of characters and how they fit into their roles -- especially Donny and Professor Honeycutt both working as the prosecution. Don, after all, is the sci-fi heart of TMNT and him being in the thick of this as Kraang is the most “his” of their roster of villains makes perfect sense.

We mostly hit the same beats you’d expect from a court drama -- an unfavorable judge, slimy defense attorney making things hard for our prosecutors, the prosecutors pull a surprise key witness, and all in the background we have the unraveling of victims and friends trying to deal with the uncertainty of the situation while also.... fighting an interdimensional alien war. Hm. Okay so that last part is pure TMNT shenanigans but the drama of the story is really structured and punctual.

Which.... basically means that this issue is something like 80% dialogue with little tiny bits of action to give the other three turtles and their friends something to do while Don and Honeycutt hold down the fort. And if you’re prepared for that going in, you’ll probably find the case as interesting and the way facts are being retold and manipulated fascinating, but if you’re not then it’s probably going to be a bit of a slog compared to the ninja action you’re usually used to.

Art: TMNT’s art is always so shockingly good that it’s hard to comment on anymore. I really like how varied and interesting alien designs are with people not afraid to be gross by “human standards” when making things. And I like that the turtles manage to be simple so that they stand out in every setting without feeling out of place, and still have enough variation and ranges of emotions that there’s no confusing them with each other when the masks are off. It’s very good art and that should always be applauded. 

Dark Horse’s Zodiac Starforce: Cries of the Fire Prince (2017) #2 Kevin Panetta, Paulina Ganucheau, Sarah Stern

I have been on the edge of my seet for a few months now, waiting for news on when the next Zodiac Starforce was going to be coming out and, at long last, the answer came. It was today! And there was much rejoicing. From me. Because I’ve absolutely fallen for this team book.

Story: We learn more about the titular Fire Prince and honestly that’s where a lot of my apprehensions come into play. In the original comic series, the Starforce was comedic at times but its drama was never undercut by it. Relationships were taken seriously and the threat to the girls was certainly serious, particularly from their own goddess and from Cimmeria. So when the first half of this issue was spent with the Fire Prince and making his powers known but also having him laughably dance around and prove to be a bit of a sadsack and not even comparable to the last threat of Cimmeria -- having been imprisoned and shamed by her himself -- it was a little worrisome. The threat after a huge battle like last time shouldn’t really be followed up by something we’re directly told is lesser. And that fed right into the lesser fights too, with Savannah undercutting Alice’s threat by having to make a joke of why they were fighting and remind her of the fact that she even was a threat to the Starforce to begin with. I know I’m throwing this word around a lot lately but it feels like bathos -- like fearing the sincerity of the drama so going for a joke instead. And that wasn’t something I really remember happening in the previous volume.

That all said, the one thing always played straight and the risk that is never dampened is honestly the one that remains the most important overall, and that’s the relationships between the girls themselves. Lily and Savannah’s romance and Savannah’s obviously very supportive mother, Molly and Emma’s close friendship, everyone’s concern for Kim -- it’s all great stuff and taken seriously throughout which is why I still have a lot of hope and expectations for this series. It’s just so nice to see a book that’s so supportive and intent on emphasizing the importance of female relationships.

Art: The art for Zodiac Starforce is beautiful and popping, but it also has a very serious control of its style so as to not be cartoonish beyond the point of feeling the danger or concern for things within the story. Even so, there were a few things that felt off model this time around. It’s mostly nitpicking, but there was something different about the way Emma’s hair was drawn, specifically when she was Gemini, and there were a few times where Alice and her goons seemed to look very different from how I remembered them. but overall I can’t emphasize enough that it’s a beautiful book and really does capture the feeling of being a Western Magical Girl team story. 

There was a lot of good this week in a lot of different ways but when I think of what I enjoyed the most I have to absolutely give it to Black Magick. This book captures a unique style and tone of two things I sincerely love -- noir and witchcraft -- and is really doing something special with them in the modern age. And those are the kind of daring choices -- much like doing a mostly black-and-white comic when almost all comics stick to high definition coloring -- that really capture my attention and help any book stand out in a given week. So that absolutely must be my Pick of the Week, even with some of my harsher criticisms sent its way.

And, once more, I am in a bit of a financial crunch for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which being the medical bills I’m paying for my dog, Eve, who experienced a catastrophic dog fight and underwent surgery recently. On top of that, I have exactly a month and a half to pack up everything I own and move halfway across the country again which is not helping those financial crunches I mentioned before either.

As such, I really would appreciate if you enjoy my content or are interested in helping me out, please check out either my Patreon or PayPal. Every bit helps and I couldn’t thank you enough for enjoying and supporting my content.

You could also support me by going to my main blog, @renaroo, where I’ll soon be listing prices and more for art and writing commissions.

RenaRoo Ko-Fi

RenaRoo Patreon

RenaRoo PayPal

[thelondonflowerlover]

Beloved Flower Lover,

Why put off giving yourself flowers?

Real talk.

You have all the trappings of success- so why are you resisting giving yourself flowers? we asked.

What comes up for you?

Do you distract yourself?

What is the benefit to you not giving yourself flowers

Imagine what you would do with a home with flowers that you love.

In the studio, talking to a visitor and we were feeling very direct today.   Calm,joyful and gracefully  we decided it was time to open up the space about welcoming beauty, love, abundance and joy and how spending her own money on flowers brought up feelings about all of that.

She was comfy and cosy. Listening to Mozart we could see her chest take a deep breathe out. Her shoulders dropped. She got relaxed.

She then sat and listened to what she was saying to herself and the answer that she gave to us was that she did not feel like  ‘a big girl’ when it comes with her money. That she felt like she did not have control over the way money was coming into her life and that others thought her success in her job just happened. It boiled down to her  not feeling like she had  put the effort in to enjoy her success. That she had not had tons and tons of heavy responsibility like the other  ‘overworked women around her’ who basically  were saying to her that she had not earned the right to live the life she wanted. That it cant come easy, or calmly or with grace and that she needed to be stressed to show that she was a real woman. That all this peace, joy, and smiling about life made her look irresponsible. This had became her clutter. The thing that was stopping her enjoying her beautiful life.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

It was clear that she did not regard her resistance as a genius partner, who just wanted to be heard. Instead  she was basically ignoring this part of herself and cringing inside instead.Ashamed and with those feelings, experiencing yuk, yuk, yuk. She had no where to go with this feeling and just experienced it as familiar  resistance.

  It is so important to prove yourself wrong, but in a way that would not put the part of her that believed in that story into an argument with the part of her that wanted to enjoy more joy, peace, happiness and abundance. She did not know it yet, but she was trying to stop a fight between the part of her that believed that she was not worthy of flowers and the part of her that had all the superficial trappings of success but still would not buy herself flowers, because of what it believed.

So,we asked her to stop and take a few deep breathes, close her eyes, put her hand  on her  heart and to imagine people welcoming her and she was feeling the feelings of welcoming her happiness.  To imagine being surrounded by people she admired shoe were thrilled to see her enjoy her life. To imagine being surrounded with feelings of security and delight, being totally secure with being approved of by herself of being happy and receiving flowers as part of that experience.  We asked to her to open her eyes and be ready to say hello to the new her.

I am not worthy of abundance was her first words that come out of her mouth after taking the inner journey where she witnessed this inner beliefs . She sat looking puzzled. Her brow was knotted. “I am confused about it all because in my day job i am very responsible and  successful  but i don’t want people to know how happy I am.” She listened to these words and  knew something was wrong. “How can you be trying to hide your talent because you want something more in her life, and more importantly want it  to come easily”. She said this really exquisitely. Her brown eyes shinning softly and meekly. The, ‘you must work harder than everyone else brigade’-her words not ours, had shouted her down and drowned out her voice. I would be so nice to imagine myself  just being secure and delighted as I take pleasure in welcoming in my  next major success. I would love it if other women approved of that. If other women were pleased for me, glad that I am a major success and it happens with ease and grace.

Doing her taxes challenged the belief that she had no part of making her success happen. The story she was telling herself was a fear story and was inaccurate. It was an invitation to tell herself a different story. So by doing her taxes she was challenging a long held belief

We are entering the time of year for going inward and gestating what next calls us. It is also the time when the Winter Solstice, Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza, all remind us that the light is returning even when the weather gets colder and harsher—until new plants crack through the ice, hibernating animals emerge from caves, and we then celebrate the miracle of spring. Until this happens, it is a time for generosity of spirit, giving to others, and showing love to help us all through what looks to be a harsh winter.

  Be generous with yourself, be generous!

  The Team,

  The London Flower Lover

Happiness and flowers- Have your realised that you are you resisting your own abundance? We show you how to stop the fight with the parts of you that are really looking for a way to be in harmony with each other! Beloved Flower Lover, Why put off giving yourself flowers? Real talk. You have all the trappings of success- so why are you resisting giving yourself flowers?

[ashenworth]

OKAY hear me out. I had the sudden urge to finish my Twilight s/i’s story. I couldnt just leave it unfinished it was eating away at me. so here it is, The whole ass backstory i wrote for my Twilight s/i. im so sorry if mobile doesnt show the read more, bc its fucking LONG

words: 10 560

Ashley Hale (formerly Ashley Davidson)

Born: Sept 15, 1942

Turned: 1962

From: Edmonton, AB, Canada.

Born near the end of the second World War and raised in Edmonton, Ashley (but she prefers “Ash”) lived a relatively normal life until the age of 20. Her father, who was deemed unfit for service, worked as a bank teller. Her mother a nurse, before becoming pregnant.

One night, in July of 1962, she and her family were taking a road trip to visit some relatives outside of the city. Rain was pouring down, but they were only about 10 minutes from the nearest rest stop. Her father, not wanting to spend any more time in the rain than needed, decides to speed up a little in the hopes of arriving sooner. Nobody would have thought that it would be an issue, as the roads had been empty for most of the trip so far, but that would prove to be wrong. With all the rain, he failed to notice the deer that had just stepped onto the road until slightly too late. He swerves and successfully avoids the animal, but the wet ground fought against them and caused them to tumble into a ditch.

When Ash regained consciousness, the car was beat up and laying on its side, having flipped a few times over. Weakly, she manages to pull herself out of the busted window, adding even more cuts and bruises to her frail body. As she falls to the ground, head spinning and vision blurring, she glances inside the car to see her parents, completely still and covered in blood. Before she can make any sense of it, she passes out from blood loss.

Her vision slips in and out, creating a slideshow of the events to follow. A few shots of nothing. Click. Two pairs of feet near the car. Click. One pair is now closer, wearing combat boots. Click. The other pair, sneakers. Click. Both pairs, now next to her. Click. Long, curly black hair and set of golden eyes. Click. Then, black.

Pain

Searing and unrelenting pain. It floods her body in a wave, and is so powerful that she can’t think. Writhing and screaming for what feels like hours. Is there no end? Please, it hurts.

It hurts.

It hurts.

Please, it hurts so much.

Please.

How long has it been? It feels like weeks. Months even. It doesn’t stop. Why hasn’t she died yet?

Wait.

It’s subsiding. Is she dying? Is it finally over?

The pain lessens. Only a touch, but enough for some relief. Then, ever so slowly, it lessens more and more. When it’s finally over, she lies there. Unconscious, but peaceful.

She has a dream. It’s blurry, but, she sees a couple. A man with pale skin and bright blonde hair. His arm is around a woman. Same pale skin, with brown, almost red hair. They’re smiling warmly at her. Her head turns. There she sees four other people. All with the same pale skin. She feels happy to see them. One of them, a dirty blonde haired man, steps towards her and holds out his hand.

She wakes up. As her eyes adjust to her surroundings, she starts to panic. She’s in a log cabin that is completely unfamiliar to her. She sits up. Before she can survey any more of the room, she has another dream. This time, while shes awake.

The same scene as before, but shifted in perspective. Her hand is outstretched. She’s seeing through the dirty blonde’s eyes. In front of her is a short haired woman. She’s mesmerizing. As this short haired woman looks into her eyes, she feels warm. Like these people are family. The short haired woman smiles, and takes hold of the hand in front of her.

She comes back to reality, to the unfamiliar scene she found herself in. Her mind is racing. What is happening? Why did I see that? Who are they? Where am I? Shouldn’t I be dead? Before she can calm down, the door opens.

The black haired woman she saw at the scene of the car crash slowly comes in, but freezes when she sees Ash awake. Quickly, she shuts the door, and footsteps can be heard walking away. She comes back with a cup in her hands, and holds it in front of Ash’s face

“Please, drink this.”

“What’s going on? Who are you?”

“Before I answer any questions, I need you to drink this. You’re thirsty, right?”

Ash almost didn’t notice with all the chaos, but her throat is burning. She can smell the drink so strongly that it’s almost like it’s calling to her. She takes the cup and starts to drink as fast as she can without even looking at it first. Her thirst subsides enough to calm down a little.

“There, is that better?”

“Yeah, it helps.”

“My name is Helen. My partner, Jo, and I found you in that car wreck.”

“I… don’t really remember much of it.”

“And you probably won’t. Your life… it’s going to be very different from now on. You were dying. Holding on by a thread with the little strength you had. We saved you. Jo was against it, but, I couldn’t just let you suffer there…” Helen trails off. She looks down and remembers something. “Oh! Right, let me get you a change of clothing! I promise, when Jo comes back, we will explain everything.” Helen gets up and leaves the room.

Ash looks down. Her clothing is torn and covered in dried blood. Right. I guess she didn’t really get a chance to change. Helen returns with some clothing in her hands.

“Here you are! They might be a little big but that’s nothing a little alterations can’t fix!” She hands Ash the clothing and starts to walk out of the room. “Oh, by the way…” Helen looks at her feet, a little sheepish. “We never managed to find out your name.”

“Oh! Uh, Ash.”

Helen nods. “Ash. That’s a beautiful name. When you’re done, please, come on out.” She smiles, and leaves the room.

Ash’s thoughts keep racing through her head as she changes. I’m alive. I was saved. But, there’s so much I still need to know. The burning in her throat intensifies again. That drink she had earlier still lingering on her tongue.

Before she can leave the room, Ash hears muffled voices through the door. Curious, she places her ear to the door. It’s hard to make out fully, but she can hear some of what is being said.

Helen: “...woke up…”

???: “....thought…..wake up...tomorrow….”

Helen: “Go….hello”

Ash hears footsteps coming towards the door, and she backs away quickly. Helen knocks

“May I come in?”

“Oh! Yes, it’s fine!”

Helen opens the door and her eyes light up when she sees Ash.

“Oh, those clothes fit you well! I’m glad.” She shuffles to the side of the door to let someone else in. A tall, stocky woman enters the room. Red curly hair comes down just past her shoulders, and she’s wearing what seems to be hiking gear.

“Ash, this is Jo. My partner.” Helen introduces the two of you, a slightly nervous look on her face. The tall woman, who you now know is Jo, has a blank expression.

“Hey, uh, sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up. We weren’t expecting you to come back to us so soon.” Jo mutters.

“That’s alright. I’m still not really sure what’s going on anyway…” Ash trails off, sensing a little but of tension in the air. Jo shoots Helen a look.

“Jo, she just woke up. I wasn’t sure how to handle it on my own.” Helen admits, head turning towards the floor. “Why don’t you come out into the dining room, Ash? We can explain everything there.” The pair walk out of the room, hand in hand.

She follows suit, walking into the main area of the cabin. It’s a lot larger than she expected when you compare it to the size of the room they were just in. Ash takes some time to take in the sights. From the paintings on the walls to the decorations all around the room. Slowly, she makes her way into the dining area, where there’s a table big enough to fit 10 or so people.

“Please, have a seat. I’ll get you some more food.” Helen walks to the kitchen while Jo sits at a chair. Ash isn’t quite sure where to sit, so she takes a spot just diagonal of Jo as to not make things weirder.

“How you feelin, kid?” Jo’s raspy voice cuts the silence like a hot knife, startling Ash slightly.

“Uh, not awful, I guess. My throat is killing me. I have this..very strong craving. I don’t exactly know what I need though…” Jo sighs.

“Yeah, I remember that feelin’. Don’t worry, it’ll be a bit more clear soon.”

Helen comes back with a pitcher and a few glasses on a tray, one glass already full and ready to be served.

“Here, Ash, drink this. It will help with that burning in your throat.” She encourages. Ash ignores the irresistible smell coming from the cup for a very short amount of time to examine the liquid. It's crimson in colour and thick. Without a second thought, she downs the whole glass.

“God, that's good.” She groans, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

“Huh...I’ve never seen a newborn with that much restraint.” Jo somewhat mumbles to herself.

“Yeah, they’re usually so...feral.” Helen murmurs, a puzzled look on her face as she gets lost in thought. The two give each other a quick look as they continue to think aloud.

“I guess she’s just different. It’s not like we’ve seen every newborn in the world.” Jo quips.

“You’re right. Hell, we haven’t even seen a gift with our own eyes. Just talk.” Helen replies.

“Um...I’m sorry to interrupt…” Ash quietly speaks up. The two turn their heads to her, looking like they forgot she was even in the room. “What’s going on? What do you mean by ‘newborn’? Like, a baby? And why can’t I stop thinking about...” She trails off before finishing her sentence, not wanting to say it out loud.

“It’s okay, Ash. It’s going to be alright.” Helen tries her best to comfort the younger girl. “Uh, this might sound really weird but-”

“Yer a bloodsucker.” Jo cuts Helen off.

“JO! What the fuck!”

“She deserves the truth and she deserves it straight.” Jo leans back in her chair, crossing her arms.

“Wh-what? Do you mean like...Dracula? Like, old legends and myths?” Ash’s brain is running a million miles a second, jumping from question to question and the overwhelming craving she has. “Is...that what I want so desperately right now? Is it blood?” Her heart would be pounding if it was even moving at all.

“Yes. Jo and I are vampires as well. That craving is going to stay for a while. When things get settles down, we were going to take you hunting.” Helen says, being careful to choose her words.

“Hunting? For...humans?”

“Oh, Lord, no! Jo and I only hunt animals. There are plenty here in Northern Alberta. We don’t touch humans”

“If you show that kind of restraint out there like you did in here, you shouldn’t have too much of a problem when it comes to feeding. Not many people up here, anyhow.” Jo reassures. Ash stays silent as she tries to sort out her own thoughts and process this new information.

The room stays silent for a minute or so, before Helen cuts through it.

“I’m sorry, Ash. I’m sorry for making you this way.” She puts her head down in remorse. “We smelled all the blood from the car crash. When we got there, the two in the car, who we assumed were your parents, were already dead. You were just lying there in the grass, hanging on within an inch of your life. I felt that you deserved a second chance. It was all my idea. I was the one to change you and I swear I will help you through this.” She says through gritted teeth, determined to finish what she started. Ash stares at her for a few seconds.

“Thank you. For giving me a chance. I’m still so confused, but I feel like I’m going to be okay now.” She smiles warmly at Helen. Helen smiles back, perking up at Ash’s words.

“Okay then, how’s about we try some hunting?” Jo remarks, standing up from the table. Helen and Ash follow suit. As Ash stands, another vision comes to her.

It’s the same set of people, but in a slightly different scenario, They’re all sitting together in one big living space, talking and laughing. The scene pans over and she sees the same beautiful woman from before. The woman looks at her and smiles warmly. Ash is filled with a strong feeling of love from looking at her.

The vision fades and Ash comes back to the real world to find Jo and Helen staring at her.

“Sweetheart, what just happened? Did you see something?” Helen asks, walking over to the dazed girl and placing a hand on her back. “Please, tell me.”

Ash explains the visions that she has seen in great detail, even down to the colours of insignificant background pieces of furniture. Helen thinks on it before speaking.

“I think you may have a gift, Ash.” She says, smiling brightly to the girl.

“A gift?”

“Yes. Some of us have what we call ‘gifts’. I’ve heard of things like mind reading, future seeing, or, the ability to inflict pain without touching a person. Not everyone has a gift, so, you’re a bit special in that way.” Helen starts walking over to Jo.

“So, what gift do I have?” Ash questions.

“Well, we’re not completely sure. It could be future seeing. We would have to do a little bit of testing before we can figure it out.” Helen stretches out her hand. “For now, let’s go do some hunting, okay? You look parched.”

Ash takes it, and they walk out the door and into the dark of night.

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

    The year was 1920 when Mary Alice Brandon (aged 19) was changed. She lost her memories, but her visions of the future were only intensified. Her first vision after changing was of herself and another vampire. She and this male vampire were close, holding each other and whispering into each other’s ears. She saw this, and could see that they were in love.

    Her second was of herself and this man together, surrounded by a beautiful family. They were all talking together. She knew that she belonged with them..

    Her last vision was vague. It was of herself, running through a forest. When she stops, she looks around. Then keeps running. She stops again, and looks around once more. Before she can take off, she comes face to face with a woman. Her dark red hair catches the eye of Mary Alice as it moves with the wind. They lock eyes for a moment, in shock.

    And it ends. She wants so desperately to see more, but nothing happens when she tries. She decides to set off in search of those she saw in her visions.

    Some time passes. She changes her name to just “Alice” and her search for the man from her visions finally comes to an end in 1948. He finally shows up at the empty diner they were fated to meet in and Alice is elated to finally see this mystery man, who she learns is named Jasper, in person. They bond and become closer than they could imagine, however, they both can tell that they aren’t meant to fall in love. They decide to stick together and brace this world with a newfound companionship.

    Two years later, they find the family from Alice’s vision. The Cullens, they were called. Carlisle was the oldest. A doctor with incredible restraint and a calming aura. His wife, Esme, who was gorgeous and caring. Edward, a somewhat closed off boy with the gift to read minds. Rosalie, a hardened woman who was given a second chance she didn’t want. Lastly, Emmett. A burly manly-man who is head over heels for Rosalie. They accepted Alice and Jasper into their home and into their hearts quickly, which meant the search was over.

    Alice spent the next few decades with the last of her visions in the back of her mind. She didn’t have any follow up to this mysterious girl and where she would be able to find her, so she would just sit and wait for another vision, like she had done so in the past.

    Then, one day, she finally got one.

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

    The year is 1967, 5 years after Ash Davidson turned. Her newborn years have come and gone and she’s come to terms with her new life.

    With nowhere else to go, she still stays with nomads Jo and Helen, the women who replaced her parents after the change. They taught her how to hunt, and they answered every question Ash had about this new form.

    “Do we burn if we go in the sun?”

    “Nope, myth. But, our skin takes on a glittering effect that would give us away to any human who sees us, so be careful.”

    “Are we invisible in mirrors?”

    “Nope. You could have just checked that one yourself.”

    “Do we need to be invited to be able to enter someone’s house?”

    “Nah, that’s all folklore.”

    And so on. Every question they could answer, they did, as they guided this young vampire through her new life. Now, they’re helping her train her gift.

    “Okay, now, I want you to stay here in the house. Jo and I will leave and you’ll hear a loud noise. That’s your signal to start. You got that, Ash?” Helen, the black haired woman, is standing outside of the door to the log cabin that has become home with Jo, ready to start training for the day.

    “I got it. Listen for the noise and start.” Ash gives her a thumbs up and watches as the two of them disappear into the woods. After a few seconds, a loud crack can be heard from the direction they headed, and Ash takes that as her cue.

    Ash closes her eyes and focuses on Jo. She searches for her in the woods, winding through the trees and bushes until she finds her.

    Ash opens her eyes and finds herself in the woods, leaning against a tree. She looks to her left and sees a small tree trunk cracked in half. In her hands, she’s got a piece of wood and a knife and is whittling something. When she looks up, she sees Helen, who seems to be speaking gibberish.

    “Wolf. Hairbrush. Scalpel. Orange. Baseball. Zebra.” Helen is repeating this set of words in this exact order, with her fingers making numbers to match. Wolf is three, hairbrush is five, scalpel is ten, orange is two, baseball is one and zebra is ten again. Helen repeats this pattern  a total of 5 times.

    “Okay, I think we should be good.” Helen says, as she turns around and heads back in the direction of the cabin.

    Ash blinks and she’s back to where she was, standing in the living room of her home. She waits for a few minutes before she hears the other two return and open the front door.

    “So?’ Jo says, as she walks towards Ash, holding a knife and a piece of wood in her hands. “Whatcha got?”

    Ash repeats the six words and their numbered counterparts exactly as she saw them back to Jo and Helen. Helen beams

    “Oh, sweetheart, that was perfect! You did so good! You were faster than ever, too!” Helen wraps her arms around Ash in an embrace.

    “Yeah, good job, kid.” Jo mumbles, staring down at her project. Ash closes her eyes again and looks through Jo’s for only a second before coming back.

    “Jo, I know you’re happy, too. No need to hide it anymore.” Ash puts on a sly grin as Jo shoots her a glare, and mumbles something to herself about “that damn kid and her gift”.

    For the years to come, Ash would train her gift to the point to where she didn’t have to search for the person she wanted to find, she could just focus on them and see what they do. She tried endlessly to see any of the people from her first activation, but to no avail. She wouldn’t get anything until a little over a decade later, in 1979. The same year that Alice Cullen finally had her second vision of the dark red haired woman.

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

    It’s been 29 years since Alice and Jasper joined the Cullen family, 31 years since they met and 59 years since Alice turned and had her very first visions of the future as a vampire. 59 long years that she waited for something to turn up about the woman she saw in her visions. Alice knew that this woman would mean something to her. She just wanted to know more.

    When the vision came, she stopped dead. She was out hunting with Jasper, Edward, and Esme. Along with them was Tanya from the Denali coven, another vegetarian group that the Cullens have been staying with for quite some time now.

    Edward, who had become accustomed to when Alice had a particularly important vision, clued in instantly and was watching with her.

    She saw herself following the dark red haired girl through the woods and up to a cabin. She took in the sights and noted the cabin as the girl led her inside. Alice sees two other women, both vegetarian vampires.

    The vision ends and Alice can barely stand. Finally, a clue. A big one, at that.

    “Alice, that was the girl, wasn’t it?” Edward asks, knowing all about Alice’s search from her own thoughts. Alice nods lightly, and Esme drops to her side.

    “Girl? What girl?” Tanya questions. Jasper cuts in.

    “When Alice turned, she had three visions. One of myself, one of the Cullens, and one of another vampire girl. She’s been searching for this girl for almost 60 years with nothing to go on. This is the first time since then that she’s seen her.”

    “This girl, is she friend or foe?” Tanya asks, nervous about the intentions of this stranger.

    “We don’t know. We just know that she’s important to Alice.” Esme pipes up, her hand on Alice’s back, comforting her.

    “I think I know where she is.”  Alice says quietly. Edwards follows.

        “That cabin, we saw it on our way up to Alaska, didn’t we?” Alice nods.

    “I think so. Tanya, do you know of any other vegetarians nearby? The three I saw all had golden eyes like us.” Tanya shakes her head.

    “Not that I know of, but, Carmen and Eleazar might. We separate when hunting and they may have come across some nomads before. I can ask when we get back.” Alice nods, then stands up.

    “Okay, let’s get back to hunting. I’ll need to be at full energy if I’m going to look for her.”

    “You mean we, right?” Jasper raises his eyebrow at her. Alice shakes her head.

    “I’m sorry, but I think I need to do this alone. She might get scared if a cavalry shows up looking for her.” 

    “We can’t just let you go alone! We don’t know her intentions, or why she’s important to you.” Jasper raises his voice, his concern growing as the conversation continues.

    “What if she’s important because she’s the one who kills you, Alice? We don’t know anything about her because you haven’t had any visions.” Edward chimes in.

“She won’t. I know it.” Alice says, getting more and more frustrated.

“No, you don’t! If you knew for sure, then I would know, too!” Edward yells.

“I can just feel it, okay? You have to trust me!” Alice yells back, getting into Edwards face.

Jasper puts himself between them and places one hand on each of their shoulders. Instantly, the tension dies down.

“Stop, you two. Alice, don’t you think it would be smarter if someone came along with you? They can just watch from a distance. She doesn’t even have to see them.” Jasper asks, hoping to convince her.

“Fine.” Alice caves, knowing fully well that they won’t give up on it. “But, they have to stay far enough back that she won’t know anyone’s there.”

“Then, I’ll do it.” Edward offers. “That way, I can hear what she’s thinking and step in if i need to.”

“You won’t need to…” Alice mumbles under her breath as everyone prepares to finish their hunting trip.

Edward says nothing when Alice’s thoughts are filled with protests to the idea. “Okay, let’s get going. I think there’s some deer to the north.”

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

The day that would change Ash’s life forever. It started out normal. At sunrise, she sat outside and watched the sun come up through the trees. A tradition she started after a few years of staying with the two nomads who found her. 

Then, using her power, she would check the perimeter to make sure no one was near the cabin by ‘expanding’ her senses to cover 100 metres all around the house, a skill that she developed while training.

When nothing was found, she went back into the house to do some cleaning. Dusting, vacuuming, etc. When she was finished with that, she would use her free time to do various other hobbies. Training her power, reading, or knitting. Those are what she was currently invested in.

Today, she decided to train for a bit. She wanted to try expanding her search radius from 100 metres to 200.

She goes back outside and sits down in the snow. Then, she closes her eyes and starts to expand her senses once again.

Within seconds, she hits the 100 mark. Slowly, from there, she pushes herself further. 101, 102, 103. It takes a few minutes but eventually, she hits 150. She opens her eyes and pulls back, happy with the results. She closes them again and goes a second time, hoping to speed up and to hit 200.

Although, this time, when she hits the 200 mark, she picks up on something.

When her vision returns, she running through the trees. On the surface, she’s calm and collected, but underneath, her emotions start running wild. Hopeful, but nervous. Excited, but worried.

Ash comes back to her own eyes and panics. Someone’s actually near the cabin for the first time since she’s turned and she has no clue what to do.

Thinking quickly, she closes her eyes once more and searches for more people. She gets a hit, someone who is a few metres behind the first person. All she can see through their eyes are the trees in front of them and the other blurry figure running through the forest. They’re extremely worried for the one they’re following.

She comes back after searching. Two other vampires, coming straight for the cabin. A situation she has never had to deal with until now.

She stands up. I have to take care of this on my own. Without alerting Jo and Helen, who are sitting blissfully unaware inside the cabin, she heads towards the unwanted guests.

Making sure to stay quiet, she slowly comes up to the place where she last saw them and hides behind a tree. Then, she enters the first person’s eyes. They’re standing in the middle of a clearing, looking around in circles for something.

“It was here, wasn’t it?” They say to themselves. It’s a female voice. Her emotions are still running wild, but this time, she’s more hopeful.

When this girl looks around, Ash notices that she’s not at all well hidden behind the tree she picked. As if on cue, the girl notices the same thing and slowly started to walk towards the tree.

Ash comes back to her own eyes. Her mind starts racing with all the options she has but as far as she can tell, none can end well. Taking matters into her own hands, she decides to confront them.

She quickly comes out from behind the tree, baring her teeth and ready to fight. And she sees it.

In front of her is a face she knows all too well. A face that she’s been searching for since she turned in 1962, 17 years ago. The face she knows as the ‘short haired woman’.

And she’s standing right in front of her.

Instantly, Ash notices the shocked expression on the short haired girl’s face.

“It’s you.” The woman says, unable to muster anything else.

“W-what?”

“I...I’ve been looking for you. For 60 years.”

“Si- you…” Ash sputters out, unable to stop the rapid thoughts going through her mind right now. Slowly, the girl gets closer and takes Ash’s hand into her own.

“I’m Alice.” She says, with a smile.

“I’m...I’m Ash. How...how did you find me?” Ash asks.

“My gift. When I turned, I saw you in a vision. I’m a future seer. I saw this place, that cabin, and you, just a few months ago. With the help of some friends, we were able to track you down.” Alice replies.

“You...you saw me? When you turned?”

“Yes. I knew somehow that you would be important to me. But, I couldn’t see you after that. I couldn’t see you no matter how hard I tried. Then, I finally did. And it brought me here.” Alice explains, her face beaming.

“I saw you when I turned, too. My gift allows me to see through someone else’s eyes, and to feel the emotions that they feel. I saw you, and a group of others. Then, I never found you again. I tried and tried but nothing happened.”

Alice brings her hand up to Ash’s face, caressing it lightly as tears form in her eyes, and smiles.

“We...saw each other? That means that our fates lead us together.” She says.

Ash nods, taking her own hands and placing them on top of Alice’s. Then, she remembers something.

“Wait. Someone was with you, right? Who was that? I can’t seem to find them anymore…”

“Oh! That was my brother, Edward. He was with me just in case out meeting didn’t go well. I think he backed off once he realized that things were okay.”

Ash closes her eyes and quickly checks on Jo and Helen to make sure they’re still okay. When it’s confirmed, she grabs Alice’s hand.

“Come with me. I want you to meet my family.” She says, as she pulls Alice behind her towards the cabin.

Periodically, Ash looks back at Alice. Sometimes, in disbelief that she’s even here. Sometimes, she just wants to keep looking at Alice’s face. She’s even more beautiful in person.

When they reach the cabin, Ash stops.

“Wait out here, okay? I want to explain the situation first.” She says. Alice nods in response.

Ash lets go of her hand and opens the door to the cabin.

“Jo? Helen? Where are you guys?” She calls out to the two nomads. She could easily find them with her gift, but the last time she tried that, she found them having sex. After that, she decided just to ask.

“We’re in the kitchen!” Helen calls out.

When Ash enters the kitchen, she sees the two of them sitting at the island, talking to each other.

“Oh, so you guys decided this room wasn’t getting enough attention?” She quips. Helen laughs.

“We just decided to switch it up for once.”

“Alright, so. I gotta talk to you two about something.” Ash says, her voice growing a but shaky.

“Hey, what’s up, kid?” Jo asks with a worried expression on her face.

“Okay, don’t get mad. I was training my power earlier. Y’know, trying to expand my search radius. When I managed to hit 200 metres, I, uh...I got a hit.”

Jo stands up.

“You WHAT?”

“Just calm down! Everything’s alright, I dealt with it myself.” Ash tries to reassure Jo, but fails.

“You dealt with it ALONE? We told you to tell us if you found something!” Jo yells. Helen stands up and grabs her arm.

“I know! But, I wanted to deal with this on my own. I figured that if things went south, I could yell loud enough for you to hear me.” Ash jumps back at the sound of Jo’s booming voice.

“What happened, Ash? Who were they?” Helen steps in.

“Well, that’s the funny part. Hold on a second.” Ash says, quickly running to the door and bringing Alice inside.

“You guys…” She says as she pulls the shorter girl behind her into the kitchen.

“This is Alice.”

Jo and Helen are silent as they stare at Alice, who smiles brightly back at them.

“Hello. I’m Alice Cullen of the Olympic coven. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Alice greets them and curtsies with a nonexistent dress.

Jo and Helen don’t respond. Instead, they eye her over from head to toe. Helen takes notice of her features and it clicks.

“Ash, is this…” Before Helen can finish her question, Ash nods.

“It’s her. Alice is the girl from my vision. She found me.” Ash smiles wide. Helen starts to tear up.

“Oh my gosh...it’s really her? You’ve been looking for her for so long…”

“Well, she’s been looking longer.” Ash retorts.

“60 years, to be exact.” Alice says.

“60 years? Oh wow. How did this all happen?” Helen asks. The two spend some time explaining the whole situation to Jo and Helen. How they both saw each other, about Alice’s vision, and the meeting. When they’re all caught up, Jo is smiling to herself while Helen is basically full on sobbing.

“You two...this must be fate pulling the two of you closer together.” Helen says through her tears.

“Nah, this is just some freaky bloodsucker coincidence.” Jo shoots back with a quip, smirking. Helen smacks her arm.

“Jo! Stop that.” Everyone laughs.

“Well, I think we should give these two some privacy. Ain’t that right, Helen?” Jo shoots Helen a look.

“Right! We’ll let you two talk alone. I think you both probably have things you want to talk about.” Helen and Jo get up and leave the room for their own.

“Come on, it’s getting dark. I want to go sit under the stars.” Ash grabs Alice’s hand once again and brings her back outside. Together, they find a spot in perfect view of the sunset and sit down in the snow.

They spend the whole night talking to each other. About their lives before and after turning, their gifts, their families. Any topic they could think of they had a conversation about. Through the whole night, they grow closer and closer. By the time the sun comes up, they both can tell that they’re meant to be together. Whether it’s love or friendship, it doesn’t matter. They’re supposed to be together. Right here and now.

As dawn breaks, they stop talking to admire the sunrise. Alice rests her head on Ash’s shoulder and grabs her hands in her own. Together they sit, peacefully in the glow of the morning sun.

In a window from the cabin, Helen can be seen watching the two of them huddling together.

“I think those two are mates.” She says to herself. Jo lets out a loud laugh.

“Ya think? Hel, the whole time that Alice would talk, the kid couldn’t take her damn eyes off of her.” Helen giggles in response.

“Yeah, you’re right. Alice did the same exact thing.”

“So did you when we met. Every time I’d look back, you would turn your head so damn quick but those curls gave you away.” Jo laughs to herself.

“Yeah, yeah. Not like yours did you any favours.” Helen snaps back. Together, they laugh as they reminisce about their pasts.

When day fully breaks, Alice suggests that Ash come up to Alaska to meet the Cullens, since Alice already got to meet her family. After a long talk, Jo and Helen caved and agreed. They lectured her for hours before they left.

“Remember, try not to let anyone see you in the sun.”

“And don’t go using your gift all willy-nilly, alright? Save it for when it’s needed.”

“And find some food before you go! You’re going to need your energy for the trip!”

After lots of “yeah” and “I know”, they set off. A few yards from the cabin, they meet up with Edward, who stayed just far enough to hear them just in case something went bad. I think this one’s the mind reader, right? I still remember his face. Ash thinks to herself. Edward chuckles.

“Yeah, this one’s the mind reader.”

Ash gasps and instinctively throws her hands over her mouth even though it wouldn’t help at all.

“It’s alright. I hear worse on a daily basis.” Edward laughs again. “So, what did you mean that you ‘still remember my face’?”

While on the road, Ash shares her story to Edward. She describes everyone she saw in her vision while Edward and Alice tell her who they are.

“So, the blonde man and the dark brown haired woman? I assume they’re a couple.”

“Yup, that’s Carlisle and Esme. Carlisle is the one who turned most of us.” Edward says.

“They’re basically our parents. At least, they are when we’re living normal lives” Alice chimes in.

“And the beautiful blonde woman with the burly man?”

“That’s Rosalie and Emmett. They’re mates as well.” Alice explains.

“Yeah, Rosalie can be a bit harsh so don’t take anything she says to heart. Emmett’s a manly guy. He’s the strongest out of all of us by far. Might want to fight you when you meet.” Edward warns.

“That leaves...the dirty blonde man. I’m guessing that’s Jasper.”

“Yeah! He’s the one I told you about. How we met after I turned.” Alice beams when talking about Jasper.

“Right! Your partner in crime.” Ash retorts.

Suddenly, Alice stops. She stares into nothing as she has a vision. Edward quickly watches along, looking concerned, but his face softens as he sees it as well. Ash, seeing the two of them, decided to try something. She closes her eyes and focuses on Alice’s. When she gets her bearings, she sees nothing but the forest that Alice is staring at.

She focuses a little harder. Slowly, a vague outline of something starts to show. A group of people. She can’t see their faces, just their outlines. Then, the vision ends.

Alice and Edward are smiling together while Ash adjusts back to her own eyes.

“What was that, Alice? I tried to see it too, but, I just got some blurry outlines.” Ash asks.

“Wait, you saw something? From my vision?”

“I think so. I saw maybe 7 or 8 people. I think they were people…” Ash trails off, trying to remember all that she saw. Alice’s eyes widen.

“Yes! I had a vision of us! Of you meeting my family! You can see my visions!” Alice yells excitedly and she clasps her hands onto Ash’s shoulders.

“Yeah, I guess I can…” Ash trails off, thinking of how she could start training this aspect of her gift.

“Wait a second. What is your gift again?” Edward asks, confused by the conversation.

“Oh! I guess I never fully explained it. I can see through someone else’s eyes. Let’s say you were looking at Alice while I was 100 feet away staring at a tree or something. I could put your vision into my mind and see Alice from your point of view. Does that make sense?” Ash rambles.

“Yeah, I think I get it. Actually, I’d like to try something. Alice, could you walk a few feet away from us and look in our direction? Make sure you can see the both of us.” Edward requests of her. Alice looks puzzled, but obliges.

“Okay, Ash, can you look through her eyes for a second?”

“Uh, yeah sure.” Ash replies, catching on to what Edward is trying to do. She closes her eyes and pops into Alice’s. She can see herself and Edward from between some trees.

“Alright, I got it.”

“Okay good. Now let me just-” Edward cuts himself off with a gasp.

“I can see what Alice sees. From your mind. I can see us.” He says, a hint of excitement in his voice. “This could be a good strategy for hunting.”

“Yeah, it could be.” Ash says, distracted by her own gift. While what she can see may be fairly boring, her ability to feel emotions is overwhelmed by Alice. Her heart is so full of love for the two that, for the first time, Ash can’t handle feeling two people’s emotions at the same time. Quickly, she cuts the connection and returns to her own body.

“Did-did you feel any of that?” She asks Edward, feeling physically strained from this exercise.

“Feel? I can only see, I can’t ‘feel’ anything when I read someone’s mind. What did you feel?”

“My gift lets me see someone else’s eyes while also feeling their emotions. The emotional response was too much, I had to stop.” Ash says, plopping to the ground to get her bearings. Alice sprints over to the two of them.

“What happened? Are you okay?” She asks, worry flooding her voice.

“I’m alright, I’m alright. I just wasn’t expecting such strong emotions from that.” Ash leans against a tree to relax for a minute. Alice’s face washes over with an embarrassed look.

“I’m sorry. I was just...so happy that you two were getting along…” Alice trails off, covering her face with her hands. Ash laughs.

“It’s alright. It’s not your fault. I’m just not trained enough to handle it yet.” Ash reassures Alice as she stands back up. “Okay, let’s get this show back on the road. I think it’s time for a meal.”

The three of them spend a day hunting for food in the woods. Edward and Ash decide to test out their new strategy by having Alice go ahead and send animals towards them while they wait to trap them. It works out well enough, but the constant use of her power drains Ash of all her energy.

“Sorry, I’m not used to using my power so much. I never really used it back with Jo and Helen.”

“You didn’t use it much? Most vampires use their powers as much as possible in the first 25 years. Then, they usually get bored of it.” Edward says.

“I just...never really had the chance to. It was just us three out there, so there wasn’t much to see really. The only time I ever really used it was when I was training.” Ash mumbles to herself.

“Surely, you must have encountered other vampires, right? You would have used it then.” Edward asks. Ash shakes her head.

“So far, you two are the only other vampires I’ve met other than Jo and Helen. You guys showing up at my cabin was the first time I ever had to try to defend us. Luckily, there didn’t have to be any fight, but…” She trails off.

“But, you still don’t know what to do in case someone malicious does show up.” Edward replies, having heard from her thoughts. Ash nods.

“Well then, we’ll have to teach you then.” Alice pipes up. “We’ve dealt with our fair share of nomads. Usually, you won’t have any problem with other vampires. Those who feed on humans may show up hoping to find some, but will leave if they realize there are none around. Others tend to think that you’re in their territory. That would be the only time you may have to fight someone.” Alice gives a lecture of the ins and outs of fighting other vampires. She lists off reasons another vampire may want to fight, different techniques, and how to thoroughly kill a vampire.

“Do you have any experience with fighting vampires?” Alice asks.

“Uh, Jo and Helen taught me some basics before the end of my time as a newborn, but, that’s about it.” Alice sighs. It’s like they never wanted her to leave the cabin…. Her eyes widen as she thinks of something.

“Wait, have you ever been around humans?”

“Oh, yeah! We have to go into town sometimes to pick things up. The first time was extremely hard on me, but Jo and Helen were there with me so it helped. After a while, I got used to it.” Alice puts her hand to her chin, wanting to ask another question but isn’t sure how to bring it up.

“Have you ever had human blood before?” Edward asks suddenly, startling Alice. After reading her mind, Edward decided it would be best to just outright ask.

“Yes. I had human blood on my first day as a newborn. I didn’t kill anyone for it. I didn’t turn anyone for it, either. Helen gave it to me in a cup. She’s close with the nearest town’s doctor and was able to convince him to give her a pint. After that, we hunted for the first time and they told me all about how animal blood won’t be as satisfying, but it does the job. Trust me, I’m not that secluded from the world. Jo and Helen know a lot and have taught me so much.”

Edward nods and takes a step back, satisfied with her answer, and gestures Alice to continue.

They spend the few days it takes to get to Alaska talking about how to defend yourself against other vampires, stopping every so often to practice together. It’s a long journey but, eventually, they arrive back at the Olympic-Denali coven household. As soon as the enter the door, they’re greeted by Esme, who comes over and brings both Edward and Alice into a big hug.

“Oh, I’m so glad you two are finally home. I’ve missed you guys.” She says, holding them tight.

“Esme, come on. We were only gone for like a week.” Edward says, embarrassed. Esme laughs.

“I know, I know. Everyone was just worried.” She says, as she loosens her grip. Then, she turns to look at Ash.

“Esme, this is Ash.” Edward introduces them. Esme shoots Alice a quick look, and Alice nods in response.

“Hi, It’s nice to meet you.” Ash says, holding out her hand. Instead, Esme pulls her into hug.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. You’re like a local legend around here.” Esme laughs to herself. Ash giggles back.

“Well, it’s nice to finally put the rumours to rest.”

Then, the rest of the Cullens come bounding towards the door, all ready to greet their family members after the trip. They all huddle together to say their greetings.

“Welcome home, you two.” Says Carlisle, as he wraps an arm around Esme.

“Yeah, we thought you two mighta died out there.” Says Emmett, as he punches Edward in the arm.

“Well, we’re just glad you’re safe.” Says Jasper.

Carlisle turns to their guest. “So, I think we can all guess who this is.”

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet Ash. You may all know her as the infamous Red Haired Girl.” Alice says as she wraps an arm around Ash’s waist. Ash chuckles.

“Funny. In my house, you were Short Haired Girl.” She looks at Alice and smiles.

“So, Ash, this is-”

“Wait. I want to try this myself.” Ash cuts Alice off.

“Let’s see. This-” She points to Carlisle. “- is Carlisle. He’s got his arm around Esme. This-” She points again, this time at Emmett. “- is Emmett. Next to him is Rosalie. And way in the back must be Jasper.” She point once more to Jasper, who’s looking a bit disinterested. Everyone nods in response.

“Well, I see you’ve done your research.” Carlisle says.

“Well, I think Ash and I have a story to tell everyone. Could we move this into the living room?” Alice starts to usher everyone away from the front door and into the living room, where they share their story one more. They explain their visions and their meeting, and talk about what they did at the cabin. They all talk for hours. Soon, the conversation lands back on the ‘local legend’.

“I swear, she thought about you night and day. I would go weeks sometimes only hearing her thinking about finding you, or even just replaying that vision in her head over and over. It was like a broken record sometimes.” Everyone laughs along with Edward’s story as Alice holds her face in embarrassment.

“Well, Edward was the only one who actually knew what you looked like. The rest of us just had to take their words for it.” Rosalie comments. “Honestly, I sometimes thought maybe you weren’t even real.” She laughs to herself.

“Oh, Rosalie. Let’s be fair to Alice, she has been hoping to find her for 59 years.” Carlisle pipes up, placing a comforting hand on Alice’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I got the lucky side of this deal. I’ve only been hoping for 17.” Ash says, grabbing Alice’s hand and squeezing it, hoping to make her feel better.

“How did it happen, anyway?” Jasper cuts in from the other side of the room, silencing everyone.

“Jasper, you can’t just-” Edward’s about to tell Jasper off before Ash cuts it short.

“It’s fine. Do you mean ‘how did I die?’” Jasper nods.

“Well. I was in a car crash. In 1962. My parents and I were driving down country roads in the rain one night. Almost hit a deer. We swerved a little too much to avoid it and landed in a ditch. When Jo and Helen found me, my parents were already dead, but I was still hanging on. Just barely. They decided to give me a second chance.” Ash’s voice lowers as she recounts her past, still fresh in her mind.

“How old were you?” Jasper asks.

“Twenty. Just a few months shy of twenty one.”

“...Sorry.” Jasper puts his head down.

“It’s fine. I have to face it. It happened. Now, I can move on and live different lives.” Ash says, flashing a small smile at Jasper. Quickly, the conversation shifts to a different topic.

When the conversation picks back up and becomes lively once again, Ash gets an idea. She closes her eyes and connects to Jasper for only a second before opening them again. Just long enough to get a hit on his current emotions and to disguise as a blink. In that split second, she noticed a lot of different emotions, none of them positive. The only one she could identify was worry. It was the strongest out of the bunch, thus she picked up on it first.

Edward on the opposite side of the room as them notices the commotion in their thoughts and clues in.

Why does it seem like he’s been hounding me since I got here? What’s going on in that guys head?

Well that’s obvious. Edward thought to himself. He’s extremely protective of Alice.

Jasper’s thoughts, on the other hand, were a different story.

What the hell was that? What the fuck did I just feel? He shoots Ash a look. What gift does she have and why did she just use it on me?

Edward smirks to himself at this new information, and decides to stay silent.

“By the way, Ash, you said you saw a vision of Alice, right?” Jasper speaks up again. Ash turns to him and nods.

“Alice saw you because of her gift. I’m just wondering. What kind of gift do you have? It may seem strange, but, I thought I could feel it just now.” Jasper calls her out.

“Actually, my gift is the ability to see through someone else’s eyes. If you were in the other room, I could describe every inch of it without having ever set foot in it. All from your vision.” Ash replies, turning her body towards him.

“Is that what that was then, you were looking into my eyes?” Jasper accuses.

“Actually, Jasper, the reason I connected with you was to figure out what the hell you were feeling. I can pick up on your emotions as well and I’ll be honest, you’ve been giving me dirty looks all night and I just wanted to know what was going on.” Ash snaps back at him. Alice reaches her hand up and grabs Ash’s arms. A few moments pass without a word said in the room before Jasper stomps over to Ash and grabs her hand, pulling her out of the room. Alice stands up to protest but Edward stops her, reassuring that they’ll be fine.

Jasper pulls her into another room and slams the door shut. Then, he takes a second to calm himself down, which by proxy also calms Ash down.

“Listen. Alice has been looking for you since the day she turned almost 60 years ago. I’ve been with her almost since day one. I love her to death and I couldn’t imagine how she would feel after finally finding you. Forgive me for being skeptical, but, I can’t help but keep her best interest in mind.” Jasper explains to her while pacing the room.

“Jasper. I know. I know about how you and Alice were together before joining the Cullens. I know how close you are because she talked about you so much. I know how much you care about each other, so I can understand why you were worried. You have to remember. I’ve been looking for her, too. Maybe not as long, but I had those same feeling she did. The worry, the hope. Everything she felt, I did too. Not just her, but all of you. I saw all of you in my vision. Your feelings are completely justified because if I was on your side of this equation, I would be scared too.”

Jasper sighs. He walks over to Ash and grabs her hand into his.

“I know the love you two share. I know you’re not going to hurt her. From the moment you two walked in the door, I could feel the joy radiating off of the both of you. I just want Alice to be happy and safe. I know now that with you, she will be.” Jasper shows a small smile before letting go of her hands. Then, Ash puts one out for a handshake.

“Let’s start over. Hi, I’m Ash.”

Jasper chuckles and grasps the hand with his. “I’m Jasper. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

The two of them share a laugh. Ash closes her eyes and connects to Alice.

“We should get back. Alice is so worried, I think she might explode.” She says.

“Whoa.” Jasper clutches at his chest.

“Hey, you alright?” Ash asks as she cuts the tie with Alice. Jasper let’s go and stands up straight.

“I think...I think I felt what Alice was feeling. Through you.” He says. “Hey, try someone else.”

Ash obliges and connects to Esme. Her heart is also filled with worry, but it’s mixed together with the overwhelming love she has for her family.

“Whoa. Okay, that much love and worry in one place? That’s gotta be Esme.” Jasper says, taken aback by the force of her emotions.

“Yup. She’s got a lot of love packed inside of her.” Ash opens her eyes and cuts the connection. “So, uh, that’s pretty cool. Edward can see the visuals, you can feel the emotions.” Ash comments as she stares at nothing and gets lost in her own mind, thinking of ways that this information could benefit them. Jasper grins.

“This could be useful for fighting…” He trails off as does the same. They stand there in silence for a moment, lost in thought, before Jasper snaps out of it.

“Hey, we should get back out there. They’ll be worried.”

“Oh! Right.” Ash opens the door and steps out.

As they both turn the corner, Alice’s eyes lock on to the both of them, hoping to figure out what happened in there. The two of them laugh together before joining the rest of the group, and the weight lifts off of Alice’s chest as she sees them acting friendly. As Ash approaches, Alice grabs her arm.

“How did it go?” She asks quietly. Ash chuckles

“It went great. Things are fine now.” Ash smiles widely at Alice, hoping to reassure her. Alice sighs in relief and smiles back.

The hours pass as they all talk together, laughing and joking like they’ve known Ash for years. When night falls, people start to split off to do their own things, and eventually it’s down to just Carlisle and Esme together with Alice and Ash.

“So, I think it’s safe to say you two are mates, am I right?” Esme asks.

Alice and Ash share a look and nod to each other.

“Yeah, I think we are.” Alice replies.

“Then, where do you two go from here?” Carlisle cuts in, looking concerned. “It’s hard for mates to stay away from each other after they’ve found one another. Ash, you have a family in Canada, right?”

“Yes, I do.” Ash answers.

“Have you thought about what would happen in this situation?” He asks. Ash thinks for a moment.

“No, not really. At least, we didn’t talk about it…” She trails off.

“How about you, Alice?” Esme asks.

“No, I haven’t either. Because this is my family. I couldn’t ever imagine leaving you all.” Alice says with a confident look on her face, that then subsides when she realizes what’s at stake here. She looks down at Ash who is still lost in thought. “What about you?”

“I...I love Jo and Helen. They taught me everything about this new situation I’ve found myself in and raised me to become who I am right now. But...I hate myself for even saying this. I think I belong here. In the Olympic coven. When I saw you all in my vision, you felt like family to me. Then, I actually met you all, and it was like seeing an old friend for the first time in years. And, I didn’t want to let go of that. I still don’t.” Ash rants for a while, trying to make sense of her feelings as the words spill out of her mouth. After she finishes, Carlisle nods.

“I think I can speak for most of us when I say that we all felt the same way as well. I truly believe you belong here with us. But, there is no rush. It’s your choice.” Carlisle says as he stands up and grabs Esme’s hand, leading the two of them out of the room to let Ash and Alice talk.

Ash leans back in her chair and sighs loudly.

“You know, I can come live with you too.” Alice says, hoping to break some of the tension. Ash shakes her head.

“No. Alice, I’ve already made up my mind. I want to be here. I really do think I belong here with you. I’m just trying to figure out how to tell Jo and Helen.” Ash sighs again. Alice leans over and kisses her, grabbing her hand and squeezing it in the process. When Alice pulls away, she smiles.

“Just remember, you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here now.”

Ash smiles widely and grabs Alice’s face, pulling her in for another kiss.

“We’ll come up with a plan.” Alice mumbles against Ash’s lips. She pulls away. “Remember, we still have a week to think about it.” Ash grins at Alice’s reassurance.

“Come on.” Alice says, standing up and grabbing Ash’s hand. “I still haven’t shown you my room.”

Ash smiles again as she’s pulled along by Alice up the stairs.

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

    The week goes by quicker than Ash thought it would, and if she had any doubts about her decision to stay with the Cullens, they were gone before she could make it back to her own place.

    With a few hugs from the Cullens, Ash and Alice head out the door to return to Alberta for what may be the last time.

    Time passes, and soon enough, they arrive at the little cabin in the woods. When they get to the door, Ash stops for a second to compose herself.

    “You alright?” Alice asks, wrapping her arm around the other’s waist and pulling her close.

    “Yeah, I think so. This might be the hardest conversation I’ve ever had to have.” Ash sighs, trying to muster up the courage to open up the door. After a few deep breaths, she puts her hand on the knob and twists.

    “Guys! I’m ho-” Ash cuts herself off in surprise.

    “Ash?” Alice walks in beside her.

    On the floor next to the door are 4 suitcases, stacked up and open, revealing the contents inside. Clothes, trinkets, books, etc. All items that belong to Ash.

    “What...the fuck?” Ash thinks aloud.

    “Surprised ya, didn’t we?” Helen’s voice can be heard as she steps into the room with a smirk on her face, Jo trailing behind.

    “What is all this?” Ash asks, unable to process what she sees in front of her.

    “Sweetie, it’s your stuff. Pack and ready for the big move. Our little birdie is finally leaving the nest!” Helen turns to Jo as she says this last line and wipes away a fake tear from her eye.

    “How...did you know?”

    “Ash, it ain’t that hard to figure out. You and Alice are mates. You two would never want to be separated ever again after finding each other. And the way that you spoke about the Cullens in your vision made it all the more obvious to us. They’re your family.” Jo speaks up from the back.

    “But, what about you guys? I mean, you basically raised me from my second birth. You’re both okay with this?”

    “Well, of course we are! Ash, we love you. As they saying goes ‘If you love something, you gotta let it go.’ It’s time to let you go, sweetie. Besides, it’s not like you can’t come visit us!” Helen replies enthusiastically, with a giant grin on her face. Ash turn to Alice, a soft smile on her face.

    “Well, that was easier than I thought it would be.” She laughs. Ash walks to Helen and Jo and gives them both a big hug. “Thank you. For everything.”

    “Now, come on Ash, you’re not leaving yet! Stay for a while and we can all have a chat.” Jo waves them all into the kitchen where they sit at the island and talk for hours. When the sun starts to set, they know that time is now up.

    Ash and Alice stand at the door, carrying Ash’s suitcases. They turn back to Jo and Helen, and give them a nod, before heading off towards their future, together with the Olympic coven.

[funface2]

PHOTOS: Comedy Wildlife Finalists Offer Ode To Silly Serendipity – NPR

Enlarge this image

This Japanese macaque is one of 40 images still in the running for this year’s Comedy Wildlife Photo Award. The winner will be announced in mid-November.

Pablo Daniel Fernandez/Comedy Wildlife Photo Awards 2019

hide caption

toggle caption

Pablo Daniel Fernandez/Comedy Wildlife Photo Awards 2019

Sure, it’s unlikely that the Japanese macaque you see above actually threw up a Wu-Tang sign. Probably by some providential mix of the photographer’s skill, patience and plain old dumb luck, this deadpan monkey stumbled into a funny-looking moment — not a lifelong appreciation for RZA & Co.

Still, though: Isn’t it pretty to think so?

The finalists for the 2019 Comedy Wildlife Photography Awards, unveiled Wednesday, teem with happy accidents such as this. The 40 photographs that got the nod feature a variety of animals caught in the act — though of just what, exactly, is not always clear.

Enlarge this image

This squirrel in Sweden better have some wishes in mind — and fast — with the wind blowing those dandelion seeds like that.

Geert Weggen/Comedy Wildlife Photo Awards 2019

hide caption

toggle caption

Geert Weggen/Comedy Wildlife Photo Awards 2019

There’s a squirrel burying its nose in a dandelion apparently to wish on its seeds. There’s a couple of chill otters waving hi. An embarrassed bear, a pompous chimp, a flatulent penguin — and one suggestive scene that may not be quite right for a family news outlet.

You can check them all out for yourself right here.

A panel of judges will decide the winner on Nov. 13. Whoever takes home the prize will get a trophy and a chance to join a weeklong safari in Kenya. But folks at home can pick their favorite, as well, by voting for the people’s choice award.

“Every year we do this competition, it gets more and more exciting seeing how people visualize the funny sides of wildlife in the wild,” said Paul Joynson-Hicks, who founded the competition about four years ago and manages it with Tom Sullam.

They say the contest is a light-hearted way of raising awareness about the environment. The contest has partnered with Born Free, a wildlife activism group, and on the prize’s website is a list of suggestions on “how to be a conservationist.”

“Our planet is in distress, we all know that, now we just need to know what to do,” Joynson-Hicks added in his statement released Wednesday. “Hopefully, we can provide a few small tips to get people started.”

In the meantime, here are a few more glimpses of the tiny wonders of serendipity.

Hide caption

Oh my, this sea otter in Seward, Alaska, didn’t see you standing there!

Previous Next

Harry M. Walker/Comedy Wildlife Photo Awards 2019

Hide caption

This 10-month-old chimp leans against his mother in Tanzania, with all the insouciance of a teen in the back of the classroom.

Previous Next

Thomas D. Mangelsen/Comedy Wildlife Photo Awards 2019

Hide caption

Here, a brown bear in Finland demonstrates the proper form for a searcher at the start of a game of hide-and-seek. No peeking!

Previous Next

Valtteri Mulkahainen/Comedy Wildlife Photo Awards 2019

Hide caption

Mating ritual or lovers’ quarrel? Either way, one of these two birds in Croatia appears much more into it than the other.

Previous Next

Vlado Pirsa/Comedy Wildlife Photo Awards 2019

Hide caption

This lion in South Africa could be practicing a dance, playing practical joke on visitors — or considering his next meal.

Previous Next

Willem Kruger/Comedy Wildlife Photo Awards 2019

1 of 5

i View slideshow

Let’s block ads! (Why?)

Source link

Bài viết PHOTOS: Comedy Wildlife Finalists Offer Ode To Silly Serendipity – NPR đã xuất hiện đầu tiên vào ngày Funface.

from Funface https://funface.net/funny-news/photos-comedy-wildlife-finalists-offer-ode-to-silly-serendipity-npr/