#not the same as the originals sadly but the taste is close

[petiolata]

Look what they still sell that I of course had to buy 😆 (Little Hug Fruit Barrels)

[genderfluid-insomniac]

sun wukong and sixed eared mihou realizing their crushes [where theyre in a "courting" type stage of their relationship] mortality? like they knew they were mortal before sure but they get a close call where their crush is Fine but it kinda puts things to perspective for them ykwim [smth like having to pull them away from a car that nearly hits them, nearly falling off a mountain ledge, just barely dodging an attack, etc]

idk im curious to see how theyd react and if theyd grow distant or clingy or try to Make them immortal

Sun Wukong + Six-Eared Macaque x fatally injured!mortal!s/o

Sun Wukong

He knows all too well about being close to someone who’s mortal and doesn’t want to go through it again but would rather become mortal with you than force you to become immortal. So when you get fatally injured during an attack against the city he freaks out and thinks that’s it, Wukong isolates himself into you or one of his friends physically goes into his hut where his brother and sisters surround him all worried and concerned for their king.

You repeatedly tell him that this was his life worked sadly, and people got injured but that doesn’t mean he’s going to lose you until he shouts out, “THATS THE THING! JUST LIKE THE OTHERS, YOU LEAVE ME AND DIE WHILE I SUFFER FROM STAYING IMMORTAL. I DON’T WANNA LOSE YOU!” He turns to face you and tears are streaming down his face, his nose is running and he’s hyperventilating, you realize all these past weeks why he’s been so protective and worried because of this. The relationship between you two was still new so at first you didn’t know how to respond and then you followed what your heart wanted to do, ignoring every awkward warning in your mind.

He needed comfort. Your lover who risked his life and gave his heart to you needed reassurance and comfort from you. You ran over to him and hugged him as tightly as you could with your injury, wiping his tears and kissing him sweetly. Some of the monkeys climbed next to you to watch you guide Sun through a breathing exercise. “In…1….2…3….4….out…2…3…4.. That’s it.”

You reassured him that you did indeed want to spend the rest of your life with him, there was no doubt in your mind. “Sun Wukong, I don’t wanna leave you one day and I love you so much. Even if it’s still early in our relationship, I would give my life in exchange for having eternity by your side.” The king is shocked and stops crying slowly, sniffling and looking right into your eyes. He could see it, you weren’t lying and it was the same devotion and strength that drew him towards you in the first place.

You helped him up and waved the crowd of monkeys to follow you to the side cavern that had holes for the sun to peek in and a waterfall flowing into a small underwater cave system and river. There long ago the Great Sage had taken the seeds from the immortal peaches and planted them in the grass there, originally it just for him but now it had grown into a place of comfort for him, holding such a strong and powerful gift. Jumping to grab a peach and having some help from one of his siblings, you took it in your hands and felt the soft fuzz.

“I want to stay with you.” You gathered his hands in yours so both of you were holding the fruit and lifted up to your mouth, taking a bite and chewing it as you relished the soft taste. Wukong smiled so lovingly at your actions and did the same, biting the opposite side of the peach and humming at the familiar but sweet taste. All the monkeys around you slowly came towards and hugged you, some let out whoops of joy, and others ran outside (if you had to guess to inform others that their royal older brother had taken a mate for life).

Six Eared Macaque

…….so…….the topic of death for him is a very difficult subject to breach in the first place and getting him to open up, reassuring him you do truly love him and aren’t going to leave or betray him took a while. Macaque is already very protective of you and there have been several close calls where you’ve been close to dying every time his anxiety spikes, the dark voices in his mind whisper how some day you’ll leave this mortal plane leaving him alone again, and death tormenting him in the worst way.

One day he goes to visit you and when you don’t answer he knocks again….and again, after two or three minutes he invites himself in and calls out your name. If not for his hearing he wouldn’t have heard you faintly whisper his name and the sound of your heart beating slowly, your body sounded wrong and badly damaged but you hadn’t been injured in a battle so what was wrong? Macaque got his answer when he stepped into your room and you brightly flushed with the covers pulled up to your chin, a trash full of used tissues by your bedside table alongside a bucket he could guess for vomiting.

“What happened? Lotus you were fine a couple of days ago-“ You held your hand out and he sat on your bed, cradling your head in his lap and giving you water before you spoke. “Meningitis.” A cough spilled from your lips and you held your head in pain, groaning and blindly reaching for pain pills. Your boyfriend used his tail to grab them and help you swallow them, rubbing comforting circles on your hand. “My brain is swelling which is causing me to be sick and my prescribed medications aren’t stopping it. It suddenly came on and if I don’t get the right help or get better then I’ll die.”

You didn’t mean to freak him out but hiding it would make it worse and you held Macaque’s hand as he tried to suppress his panic attack, trembling and murmuring pleas to anyone or anything to not take you away from him all as you could only hold his hand. Too weak to stand for longer than two minutes. With tears streaming down his face he cupped your face and took a deep breath, “I’ve been thinking about this for a while and now is certainly not the “right” time but I can’t live in a world without you. I love you too much to live the rest of my immortality without you and I would rather die a second time, so….”

“Yes.” He stopped and met your gaze, you nodded and reached a hand up to cup his cheek, letting tears roll down your cheeks. “Macaque from the moment I met you I’ve wanted to spend the rest of my life and if it means being immortal with you then I gladly accept. Do whatever you need to do.” He nodded and borrowed your laptop to search for myths of immortality elixirs or artifacts that would help you become immortal, the entire day your lover spent caring for you while also finding something for eternal life.

That’s when he found the ingredients to make an elixir of immortality, entrusting your care to MK and Sandy before heading off into the forest. After days of search, he finally found it, he almost got his arm chopped off but it was worth it for you, Macaque rushed back to you and peppered you full of kisses. Soon enough he came back into your room with a cup full of herbal tea with Blood-red cinnabar and gleaming gold; fickle mercury and fiery sulfur mixed in and sat you up to drink it, “Take it slow, lotus. You’re still sick.” You slowly drank the cup until it was empty and both of you waited with baited breath until you could take a deep breath, already sounding so much better according to his six ears.

[luxudus]

    Took me long enough but heres the sequel to the september cutting room floor. Ending this series for good. Staring in order by their number Starting with the entries made for 2022

    1. A mammaloid alien native to a dangerously cold planet iconic for it’s red and blue plantlife. They are skittish herbivores. Grazing along its planet’s “grass” by grabbing handfuls of plants with its oral tentacles and brought it to a mouth located in a hollow space in between its oral tentacles and head. And would sport vibrant patterns to blend in with it’s equally colorful forests

    2. Originally a suggestion by my friend Lemuel. They were a descendent of pill bugs/roly polies that evolved powered flight. They soared through forest understories with three sets of flattened legs and held onto branches with their hind pairs of limbs. In spite of the radical change to their movement, they would still act and eat like any other Armadillidiid Isopod. Only now they could get to their food much faster

Now onto the entries made for 2023.

    3. An alien predator that has all of our senses, but none of the familiar organs. They see the world with an organic sonar dish so powerful it could see colors as good as any eye. They smell and feel heat through heat pits on the sides of their body. They hear sound through sensitive whiskers on the feet of their hydraulic legs. And they eat and taste with a liquivorous proboscis.     And on top of their unique sensory organs and a testament to their overwhelming success, they are also freakishly intelligent. Not fully sophont, but still able to run circles around earth’s smartest life aside from humans.

    4. An orbital view of a carbon planet. A hypothetical world where it and the rest of it’s star system formed with much more carbon in its composition than standard oxygen. In place of water would be oceans and clouds of hydrocarbons. And nestled right in between the crust and mantle would be a hundred-kilometer-thick layer of pure diamond.     Sadly how life would evolve and take advantage of such a world was never conceptualized before spectember ended. Maybe someday this idea can be covered again and be brought to justice.

    5. A descendant of azhdarchid pterosaurs from the same world (or at least set of timelines) as the aforementioned Dinosauroids. They live in hierarchical herds where the strongest males have ownership over the herd’s female members.     They are also extremely violent, capable of killing their own predators if a hunt goes slightly wrong, And changes in power often escalate into bloody fights that could end in death. Some members are even willing to kill their herd mates' children if it means they get a chance to continue their bloodline.

6. A descendant of the golden snub-nosed monkey that has evolved to mimic the violet deathhead from my last official september post. Their fur is a speckled brown to blend in with the trees it lives on. The structure mimicking the deathhead sail is derived from nasal flaps once used to attract mates. The primate’s blue skin paired with clusters of veins within the nasal flaps create the iconic purple hue.     High concentrations of melanin along the tip of the nasal flaps mimic the black stripes. And even the orange spots are recreated by rows of unusually thin skin refract sunlight the same way the webbing between our fingers turns orange as a close light source passes through it

    7. A dinosauroid microbiologist who lived in a time when their people colonized the solar system. A Chia’J-di ecologist who lived in a time when their species’ industrial revolution provoked an equally powerful environmentalist counterculture, the globe they are holding is earth 500 million years in the future and long after pangea ultima split, the version of earth their species hails from. And a masculine female human sophontologist who lived in the aztec empire during it’s height. All pose for a picture.     Despite their different walks of life and origins of separate timelines. They are all heads of research within the earth division of the Inter-Timeline Evolutionist Union, better known as the ITEU

The ITEU is a non-profit, nongovernmental secret organization spanning the entire multiverse. With the goal of documenting and archiving the evolution of every species and civilization that has ever lived and will ever live across every possible timeline.     Their employee count ranges in the quantifiable infinity, and the division of a single planet is still big enough to utterly dwarf the largest and most technologically advanced civilizations ever documented. And their membership program accepts anyone from individual sophonts like you and I, galaxy spanning gestalt super-intelligence, to even celestial deities that create their own worlds and galaxies and seed them with life.  

    The symbol above the heads of the earth division is the logo of the ITEU as a whole. Surprisingly very little is known about the meaning behind it. Theories range anywhere from it representing the multiverse as a stream of timelines. The evolutionary tree of life, the infinite fractal-like scale of life and the multiverse. To possibly even the form of the ITEU’s founding species.     There’s a very good reason why the logo is a mystery to all. The ITEU has some pretty big flaws in spite of their noble goal. The organization is very secretive, even to it’s own members. Nobody outside the ITEU knows it even exists. The organization’s founders and early history remain a complete mystery. And despite its multiversal span being common knowledge. no one truly knows the full scale of this organization or the multiverse. 

    They are also very non-interventionist, and will stop at nothing to not leave a mark on the natural world and make any irreversible changes to the course of time. Even if it means never sharing their knowledge with the multiverse’s most advanced civilizations. Allowing interdimensional atrocities to keep going despite having the power to stop it. Or even keeping their own members from ever returning home.     This whole entry was meant to be a bigger grand finale to 2023’s spectember instead of the Batesian mimicry ring or the neurodivergent posthumans. And was meant to be a meta look at 2023’s entries and the genre of speculative evolution as a whole before spiraling out into its own thing entirely.

(i apologize if the aztec woman appears culturally and/or racially insensitive, if anyone who's an expert on aztec culture wants to give feedback I'd appreciate it a lot i want to improve more on illustrating other cultures)

[calp0sa]

ooh.. what songs/albums do you reccomend for talking heads newbies?

INFODUMP INCOMING HERE WE GO

TL;DR: Uh Oh Love Comes to Town, Don’t Worry About the Government, The Book I Read, Found A Job, Life During Wartime, I Zimbra, Cities, The Great Curve, Crosseyed and Painless, Seen and Not Seen, Houses in Motion, the ENTIRETY of the Speaking in Tongues album, Road to Nowhere, (Nothing But) Flowers, and the entirety of Stop Making Sense (but only after you’ve listened to the original versions of the songs on there)

i personally believe Speaking in Tongues is like their magnum opus seriously its my favorite album to ever exist. Could possibly say its one of the greatest albums of the 80s. there is not a single song on there that i don’t love. but their whole discography has such an abundance of gems… i PROMISE their debut album “77” is way more than just psycho killer. in fact i think “Uh-Oh, Love Comes to Town” is easily the best song on 77. “Don’t Worry About the Government” and “The Book I Read” being close contenders. as for my favorite song on their second album, “More Songs About Buildings and Food”, i think “Found a Job” takes the cake. Fear of Music, in my opinion, has to be the most underrated talking heads album…. “Life During Wartime” , “I Zimbra”, and “Cities” being my favorite tracks from that one… now im sure everyone knows about Remain in Light because of “Once in a Lifetime” but i PINKY PROMISE its SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT. “The Great Curve”, “Crosseyed and Painless”, “Seen and Not Seen”, “Houses in Motion” are such damn fantastic songs that have sadly been overshadowed by OIALT (dont get me wrong i think oialt is among the most beautiful songs to ever be written, i just wish people would give the other songs the same amount of love) ANYWAY I SAID ALL I NEEDED TO SAY ABOUT SPEAKING IN TONGUES AT THE BEGINNING OF THIS RAMBLE now onto Little Creatures. oh boy. while i think it’s a pretty good album i don’t think it hits quite as hard as the works before it… despite containing one of their best songs, “Road to Nowhere” (GORGEOUS song) Little Creatures was more of an acquired taste for me, so i don’t really recommend that one if you’re just getting into talking heads. ok so i have a confession to make. i haven’t listened to Naked enough to properly form an opinion on it. but “(Nothing But) Flowers” is a marvelous song i like to frequent. i totally recommend.

OK. OK. STOP MAKING SENSE. is their concert film right? i recommend EVERY SONG on its album, AFTER you’ve listend to all the original versions. it’s a magical experience. well anyhow i think this talking heads talk has come to a conclusion. happy listening :]

[fnaf-enthusiast]

FNaF 2 general Headcanons

Withered Freddy

He is still the same tbh

Nothing much changed for him and on him

He somehow drops even more dad jokes

'Raises' Toy Freddy like one would their son and the others always giggle at that

He deeply hates BB but won't show it openly, he probably doesn't even know himself why he dislikes him

Actually likes the new tunes the toy animatronics play but still prefers the songs his band used to play

Whithered Bonnie

We all know he has a lot insecurities now because of his face and his arm but mostly his face

He is the most insecure of the four and it shocks his friends to see him not only change appearance but also personality

He's now just deadpan walking around and sometimes makes a sarcastic joke or two

Though he sometimes still talks a lot and is back to his old self when he talks with the other withered animatronics

He actually doesn't hate his replacement they hangout sometime but it's more like a distant friendship

He also started to swear a lot more and it actually funny to see BB's expression when he hears those words

Withered Chica

She is a close second next to W. Bonnie when it comes to insecurities

She somehow still manages to keep that secret, she sometimes talks with Foxy and Bonnie about such stuff, and she is still very extroverted and happy

She's kinda sad she can't eat pizza anymore but she surprised herself by not caring about it that much

Loves to scare everyone with her broken voicebox and sometimes teams up with BB to annoy the others

Withered Foxy

He's not as flirty as used to be but he doesn't really care all that much

He's had his own insecurities a long time before and knows how to handle them

He turned the flirty jokes and dark jokes up a little now

He and Bonnie now take bets on who will start a 'fight' with who because the toy animatronics always manage to get into arguments

Scratches the wall with his hook and 'draws' his storys and tells them to BB

Once in a week or two he talks with the Puppet because he reminds him of golden Freddy a little

Golden Freddy

He's even more distant now

He already kept to himself but damn he sets new records for that

It isn't like he's insecure, he never really was, but he's afraid he might get a little too emotional when he sees they others

He hangs out most of the time he shows himself with the Puppet

They both are mostly silent or whisper to each other but they love to just observe what's going on in the pizzeria

Toy Freddy

He's like an average teenager

He would play fortnite if he could 100%

He sometimes tries to prank the withered animatronics but almost always fails and gets scolded by Freddy or cussed out by Bonnie

He and toy Chica make almost every day a food fight and sometimes W. Chica and W. Bonnie join

He rages relatively quickly when he loses, no matter what he's loosing at

A huge fan of ice cream, choko-mint to be specific

Toy Bonnie

He is very social but has small mood swings

One day he chats nonstop and the other he sits in W. Bonnies corner with him and talks about live

Is a little clumsy but covers it up by using a joke he got from W. Foxy or W. Freddy

He loves slushys(ya know what I mean, right?)

He always empties the machine and tries to mix every flavor possible

Has also no concersln about himself when he wants to win a bet and makes all types of crazy stuff

Toy Chica

She loves to talk with W. Chica and is from her personality a lot like her original

Sadly has no taste in music and somehow ends up with everyone teasing her about it

But she can tease back and she is very good at making people flustered

She can also be very sassy

Loves lollipops and would probably also love cotton candy

Mangle

my poor bby

She is very distant from the others

Has a lot of insecurities, knows that they should talk about it, but doesn't have a clue how to talk about her problems

Since mostly static comes from their voicebox they don't have that much courage to talk

But sometimes she talks with others, the others can understand W. Chica even though her voicebox is almost just as broken, most times they talk with W. Foxy or hang around Puppet because they find their presence comforting

Puppet

Is the calmest but also the most caring of everyone

Is almost like a therapist for everyone

They mostly keep to themselves but don't mind a nice soul keeping them company

Has a nice laugh wich reminds one of a small child

'Protects' BB when he once again gets in trouble for one of his pranks

Once in a blue moon they tease one of their friends in a fun, harmless way but they don't do that often because they are worried of hurting someones feelings

Baloon Boy

The biggest troublemaker of them all

But also the worst

Has distorted his laugh to scare the toy animatronics multiple times and got his ass almost yeeted across the pizzeria

Puppet is his safe zone

He loves cotton candy, he inhales that shit

Tied to learn the guitar on multiple occasions but somehow he can't learn it

Mad respect tho, he won't stop trying

He laughs at almost every joke, no matter if he understands or not

[hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog]

Just Breathe- Series

Good evening everyone! here is the second chapter in the Just Breathe Series. This series was inspired/prompted by the ask that was submitted by @deans-spinster-witch to read the first chapter click here for the original post. @deans-spinster-witch was gracious enough to lend her skills in ruffing out a few of the mishaps in chapter one, and I will post that updated version at some point and link it, and did the same for this second chapter. 

Here is the original ask for a refresher.

Ask from @deans-spinster-witch:

Tell me about Dean falling in love with a girl who has long covid - maybe they met when he saved her from a monster and they became friends, she occasionally helps him with research or patches him up if he gets hurt.  He doesn’t hear from her for a while, and when he goes to check on her, he finds out she’s in the hospital with Covid - a monster he can’t save her from.  He realizes he loves her, but may lose her.  After she gets out he keeps coming to check on her because he knows she tires easily/has trouble breathing at times.

This second chapter is going to start with a bit of time jump, but don’t worry we got flashback a plenty to fill in the gaps. Multi POV between the main character, Y/N, and Dean Winchester, mentions of Sam Winchester. This is angst, sweet/fluffy, swearing, implied sexy times. Oh and word count is at 7,250-ish, sorry but not sorry. 

Sadly the Winchesters are not mine, but the story is so please don’t steal and post as your own. But likes, reblog, and comments are always welcome. As always any mistakes like grammar, spelling, function is also all mine, so be kind when pointing it out, I do my best. 

I would like to know if you like this chapter would you want to see a third chapter? or maybe a prequel to answer any questions you might have regarding Y/N and Dean? Let me know. 

Thank you again for reading, and you would like to send me a prompted or story idea, send it my way. 

Happy Reading

Time Jump to 4 months ahead. 

Y/N POV

Shit, Shit, Shit! Where the hell are my keys! You yell out in frustration as you move frantically around your house, looking for the one thing that you need to get to your appointment on time. Tossing the pillows from the couch, goddamn it! You were never like this, ever since COVID, your short term memory has been foggy to put it nicely. Resorting to keeping both a paper list and digital one on your phone, is your new normal. Walking into a room to do something, and instantly forgetting what you came for. Case in point, not remembering where you put your goddamn keys! 

You hate running late, you pride yourself on always being early to things, and this appointment was an important one. Walking into the kitchen, you start to look in the not so obvious places. Opening up the fridge, nope not in there. Pull open the freezer next, yep there they are, right next to the pint of mint chip ice cream that you just had to have yesterday at like 11 pm. Only to then be disappointed that you now can’t stand the taste of your once favorite ice cream, fuck you COVID! 

Ugh, seriously, you are going to be the death of me, you think. Grabbing your keys, you push the freezer door closed, and head off to the hospital for your fourth month CT scan. Locking the door behind you, the crisp air of fall hits you. God how you don’t want winter to come any sooner then it has too. Winters in Michigan can be brutal, especially on the coast line. Pulling your light jacket close to you, you quicken your pace and get into your jeep to start up the car quickly, and pull out of the driveway. Not noticing the very familiar black impala parked about three houses down. 

****

You make it with time to spare, as you wait in the waiting room after checking in, you try your best to calm yourself. Fiddling with your phone, you find that scrolling through Instagram is getting you nowhere and your emails have been radio silent for months now. Exhausted, you put your phone away, you look around the room. For mid morning it's not too busy, the daytime talkshow mixes in with the white noise of the hospital. It's so beige, beige carpet, walls, even the uncomfortable furniture is beige. It makes sense, given it's a hospital; money should be spent on actual patient care, not on the latest interior furnishings., But still, at least get some interesting artwork. Looking to the piece across from you: an abstract painting of paint strokes in grays, blues, and you guessed  it, beige.

“Ms. Moore?” The nurse's voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you look up to see her standing at the entryway in blue scrubs, dark brown hair pulled back, with a kind smile. 

“Yep” you reply to her, but you're sure she would have guessed that was you, as your head snapped at attention when your name was called. “Hi”, giving her a smile as you walk towards her.

“Hi,” she replies, “can you tell me your last name and date of birth?” She starts walking down the hallway, looking at your chart, the path was second nature for her. You rattle off your last name and birthday for her, then she stops just off from an open doorway, “right in here.” Letting you walk in first.

She takes a seat at a desk, swiping her badge to start keying in some information. “So, here for your four month CT scan.” she states, but it also feels like a question.

“Umm, yeah, it's my second one.” You reply, still getting used to coming to the doctor more than twice a year. You only ever went if you were feeling really sick. 

“Looks like the first one was clean, but we like to do a few in close succession when someone has had a severe case of covid.” she explains, her eyes are kind, and reassuring, “I am sure this one will be just as good, and then hopefully the doctor will schedule them farther apart.”

She must see the worry on your face. Not sure how to respond, you just nod your head. She takes your vitals, asks if anything else has changed since your last visit, and if there were any other concerns you wanted to discuss today. “No, I don’t think so.” 

Typing a few more things in the computer, and then swapping her badge again to lock the computer. “I am surprised your brother is not here with you today.” 

“What?” You're taken aback by this, brother, does she mean Dean? How would she know about him? Was it in your chart? You don’t remember adding him as your emergency contact.

She can tell you are put off by this. “Sorry, I should have re-introduced myself. I was your nurse when you were in here with covid.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, I should have…”

“No, it's fine. Honestly, I wouldn’t expect you to remember me.”

Thinking back to that time, she does seem familiar now, “well it's nice to see you again…” struggling to remember her name quickly, but not inconspicuously looking at her badge, “Bridget.” This gets a laugh out of her, and you do the same. “I was happy to see your name on the schedule today, and I thought you were the one with the very cute, and very attentive brother. That's why I am surprised he is not here.”

Ah yes, Dean, not being here. That is a long, long story that you're sure she does not want, nor has the time to hear right now. You give her a forceful smile, “Yeah, Dean, he has something today, so just me.”

Her smart watch goes off, and she looks at the time, “well we should get you down to CT. After your scan, we will come back here and the doctor will be with you to go over the results.” She gets up, and you follow. 

****

The wait feels like forever, and in the small exam room with nothing to look at but an exam table -and beige walls - you were lost in your head. Worrying about what if they found something, what if you developed lesions, or anything that could compromise your health. God, how you wish Dean was here, or even Sam. Someone to hold your hand and distract you from the impending doom and dark thoughts that were creeping in. Dean would distract you with lame jokes, or stories about how Sammy was terrified of doctors. He would get you to smile anyway he could, probably go so far and raid the supplies of tongue depressors and cotton balls, saying something like “they don’t need all of them, do they?”

“Ms. Moore, how are we today?” The doctor's voice breaks up your fleeting thoughts of Dean, as if he was right there, but as soon as the man in the white coat opens the door and steps through, Dean disappears. 

“Umm, good, at least I hope so.” You reply, wanting to keep the pleasantries short, let get to the point so you can get out of here. 

He takes a look over the file, and then pulls up the scans on the computer. He seems to be taking forever, did he not look at them beforehand! Come on man just tell me already! “Everything looks good, I am not seeing any growth of lesions or scar tissue from the tube.”

Relife floods your body, letting out a sight, “oh that great news, so I am done with coming in?” you hope so, wanting to never see this place again, at least for a while. 

He turns to face you, his dark brown eyes are kind, but you can tell right away he is not going to give you the answer you want. “Not yet, but we can push them to every six months.”

Okay, twice a year, I guess that is a compromise you can take, “okay, so I will see you in the spring.” Starting to get up to leave, but he stops you.

“In two months, we can start doing six month visits. I want to see you again one more time in two months. If that scan is clean then we push them to six month visits.” He explains. 

You sit back down in defeat, you're going to be back here in two months, really! You know you can’t take your frustration out on him, he is just looking out for your health and doesn’t want to miss anything. “Okay.” Slightly defeated, wanting nothing more than to curl up on the couch, and sleep for the next two months away. 

Giving your hands a reassuring pat, “two months will fly by I promise. Is there anything else you want to discuss today? Still having some memory issues?”

You know that you should be honest with him, that you think you have gotten worse since Dean left, but honestly are you sure? He did so much for you in that short time, maybe, you were like this before, and he just didn’t point it out. Plus you just wanted to go home, what really could he do anyways? “Nothing new on that. I think I just need to get back to my normal routine and I will be fine.” 

Getting up from his chair, “Sounds good. I will send Bridget back in, she will get you set up for your next appointment. We will see you in two months. Have a good day.” shutting the door behind him. You're back alone in that quiet room.

Alone, you're alone, once again. You can feel the panic start to creep in. Alone, and even though the scan was good, he still wants you to come back. Alone, no one to hold your hand, no one to make stupid jokes. You did this to yourself, you know that, he would have stayed, you pushed him…

“Alright, Doctor says two months humm.” Bridget's voice breaks through. It's light and airy. Trying to make the situation as pleasant as possible. As soon as she sits down, she can tell you're not alright, “Hey, what's wrong?” She asks, setting down the chart, and focusing on you.

Feeling a tear run down your cheek, fuck why are you crying.  “Umm…it's nothing….yeah two months…” You take a ragged breath, pushing all your emotions down, down, down, to the deepest part of your soul where they should always live. You can cry when you get home. Suck it up for two more minutes!

“Hey, talk to me, what’s going on.” She is not letting you wash this away, she grabs the tissue box, and holds it out for you to pull a couple out of the box. “Your scan was clean, the doctor is just being cautious that's all.” 

“I know it's just…I really wish he was here….”

“Dean,” she replies, filling in the blanks. You nod at this, and wipe your eyes and face. “I am sure if you talk to him, he will come to the next appointment.”

Oh if she only knew, but you couldn’t lay this all out on a complete stranger. Again she just wants to do her job, and move on to the next patient, you're taking up too much of her time. “I am sure you're right.” Taking a few ragged breaths. 

She gives you a reassuring smile, and turns to the computer to book your appointment, reminding you that you can always change it to accommodate if Dean can’t make it this time. “I could tell he really cares for you. Even in the short time I saw him, he wouldn’t leave your side for anything. Practically had to kick him out every night when visiting hours were over.” Trying to make the situation light, and hopefully get a smile back on your face. 

Giving her a short laugh, “yeah that sounds like Dean.” You can see it, him waiting until the last possible second. A security guard to escort him out.

Both of you get up, and she walks you to the door, and down the hall towards the exit. Seeing you coming back around, she decides to let you in on a little secret. Stopping you before opening up the door to the waiting room she leans in slightly. “Just between you and me, I knew he wasn’t your brother.”

“What….I mean…no he is….” You stammer out, hoping that she wasn’t going to bust you for…something, you're not sure? But still not wanting to get into trouble.

“Don’t worry dear, it's fine.” She quickly replies, trying to calm your fears. 

You let out a sigh of relief, “How did you know?”

“Two things. One he just pulled on my heartstrings so much that I figured what would be the harm in him sticking around, even if he wasn’t related. Plus, if I was ever lucky enough to have a guy look at me the way he did to you, I would want him to be by my side every second.”

Her smile is contagious, and although you're still doubting that what you feel for Dean would ever be reciprocated, now is not the time to hash it out with her. “What was the second?”

“I may have heard him one night on the phone with someone, saying he couldn’t lose you, that he needed to tell you that he was in love with you.'' She says matter of factly, pushing the door open and waiting for you to walk through. 

*******

Dean POV

He watches as she pulls into the driveway and shuts off the car. He had followed her from a safe distance from the hospital to the store, and then back to her house. She didn’t notice once, even though he had taught her in the past how to spot a tail. Did she get bad news? Maybe it's the COVID that is affecting her hunter instincts? Fuck, if thats the case, what else could she be missing? Is it stupid and desperate of him to be following her, and watching from a distance? Maybe, but also not, if she is not noticing simple things like him following her. What if  Lucifer, or one of his henchmen, came after her? Anxiety just thinking of irrational attacks on you causes his chest to tighten as he pulls back into the parking spot a few houses down.

He should be a man and go up to you, talk to you, and see you face to face. He missed you, your smile, your laugh - fuck, everything about you. He knows he screwed up. As soon as he did what he did, he wished he could have taken it back, but the damage was done. He kept saying it was for the best, that you would forgive him, and move on. But you can’t forgive him unless he stops being a little stalker and owns up to what he did.

Flashback to the night of the big blowup. Dean POV

Standing there, staring down the closed door, you wish right now you had superpowers to see through the door and see if she’s alright. Hell, you don’t need to be a superhero to know she’s not. You're just wondering what brought this on. “Y/N, come on, talk to me” you plead, softly knocking on the door. “I am sorry…I don’t mean to…” your rambling stops when you hear soft sobs from the otherside of the door. 

“Just go away Dean!” She yells between sobs. “I can’t breathe with you here… I can’t…”

You grab the door knob, fear and pressure weighing down on you to get to her, to hold her.  Most importantly, to make her understand that your overbearing protectiveness is coming from a place of needing to be in control, that you care for her, and need to protect her “Y/N, please just open the door, let's talk? I promise I will ease up, I can do better.”

You can hear her give a small laugh at that, you're about to question her on this when your phone goes off. Screw it, let it go to voicemail, she is more important than anything else. “I am not giving up on you, on us. You have to come out eventually.” 

Your phone stops ringing for a second and then starts back up again. What the Hell? “You should answer that, Dean.” She states without hesitation, but  with an undertone of sadness. 

Letting out a sigh, you turn around. “Fine if you want to talk via phone, fine.” Walking away from her door into the living room, you pick up your phone from the coffee table. To your surprise it's not her name across the screen, but Sam’s. “What?” you bark out in frustration, not really wanting to talk with him right now. 

“Dean, back off.” Sam says matter of factly. No pleasantries, just straight to the point. 

“She called you? Why?” Confused as to why she is including Sam on this.

“She just needs some space, Dean, I think it's time you come back. Jody called and…” Sam calmly says, trying his best to diffuse the situation from the other side of the country. 

“No, Sam, I am not leaving her! I can’t lose her again, I won’t… I love her, man…”

Your back is to the hallway, so you don’t notice Y/N standing there, listening, hearing  what you should be confessing to her and not your brother. You don’t see her wondering why can’t you just say what you feel? Why can’t you just let down your guard with her and tell her?

*****

The slamming of a trunk pulls Dean back to the present, and he looks up to see you carrying an arm load of groceries. Of course you would do it in one trip. He shakes his head, remembering that you never like to take more than one trip from the car to the house. Your logic always being, as you told him, I am a single girl, I can do it in one go. He watched as you held the screen door open with your butt, as you switched all the bags to one arm so you could open the door with the other. Looking away once you're inside, Dean notices it’s about 20 minutes since you pulled in the driveway. Had you been sitting there this whole time? You have only gone to the hospital and store, but still your energy must not be back to what it used to be. 

Maybe he should check, make sure you're doing okay. Look in the window really quick. Getting out of the car and walking the short distance, he looks over to your car to see that you still had some toilet paper and paper towels in the back seat. Knowing that you would be back, he decides to help you out. Opening up the door as quietly as possible he grabs the items, and takes them up to the door. Putting them in between the screen door and main door, he turns around to leave.

His eyes look in the kitchen window, to see you putting away your items. Your back is to him, so you don’t notice. You seem lost in your own world, on auto pilot putting things away. Dean takes a moment to appreciate that he can see you up close. His eyes scan the room, noticing the post-it notes all over. He never remembers you having so many of them before. He can’t read what they say, but they are everywhere; on the cabinets, counter tops, table, Was your memory getting worse? 

Panic, and anger - at himself more than anything -  sets in.

*******

Y/N POV

“I love her Sam, I am in love with her…I can’t…no I won’t lose her, I need to tell her how I feel…”

“You don’t love me, Winchester” your voice stops Dean from rambling on the lies that you know, in the end, he doesn’t mean.

Dean turns to see you standing there, your eyes red from crying. But you're not crying now; no, now you  look  pissed, like you want to kick some ass - and Dean’s is the closest one. “Got to go Sam.” Dean quickly says, ending the call. “What do you mean I don’t love you. Of course I do, I….”

You hold up a hand, and stop Dean from saying anything more. “No, you don’t. People like me, we don’t have sexy knights to save us. To fall in love with us, to whisk us away, and want to play house with.” Determine to get this all out, to get your point across and make him accept reality. 

“We are your best friend, the girl you call on Friday nights when your date falls through, or you strike out with the bartender. We are your ‘wing woman’, we pick you up, dust you off, and send you back out into the world. We build your confidence up, while we sit on the sidelines alone.”

“Y/N that's not true…” Dean starts to protest.

“Let me finish, I have to get this out.” taking a breath, you can see he’s hurt, that he wants to argue, to explain his side. “Yes, you care for me, but you don’t love me, and you're not In love with me. You're in love with this idea of a life outside of hunting, you love the idea of playing house.” Closing the gap between you, even though you know better than to get  this close to him. You're playing with fire, but you're desperate to feel him. 

“You're right, I am in love with the idea of an apple pie life. But I want that life with you, no one else.” Dean interjects before you can shut him down, shut down what is going on between you two before it can even start. 

Taking a chance, he grabs your hand and brings it up to his chest and places it over his heart. “Can’t you feel my heart? It’s racing for you. It always has, it always will.”

 Feeling the softness of the white t-shirt between your fingers, you take a breath and inhale the smell of him. “Sooner or later we both know this won’t be enough, that I won’t be enough.” You talk to his chest, not wanting or able to look him in the eye, your voice low and shaky. “You're going to leave me, sideline me, and only blow through town when you need something.”

“That's not true! You have always wanted your own life. I always wanted to protect you as much as I could. The things that Sam and I deal with, the people and monsters we hunt, if anything ever happens…you are a vulnerability that they will exploit. I know it.” 

“Maybe. Even more reason why you have to go…and never come back…” Glancing up to see the gut punch you just delivered written on his face. You try to take a step back.

Dean won’t let you go, bringing a hand around your waist, holding you. “What?! No! I won’t cut you out of my life. I now know I was stupid for ever doing that. For letting you live alone, or at the very least, not in the same state as the bunker.” He practically commands, with no hesitation. How could you think he would ever agree to this?   

“Y/N, I need you in my life. You can’t deny that there is something between us.” His words are sweet, his voice is low as he leans into you. His breath fans over your face, as his hands caress your cheek. “Please, I need you.” 

His lips are so close to yours, that if you lean ever so slightly, you would finally know how soft his lips are. Would they fulfill your fantasies? God, maybe you should live in this fantasy for as long as you can, screw being logical. Let it be a future Y/N problem, present Y/N wants to know what it's like to be wanted by Dean Winchester. “I…Dean…”

*******

 Y/N and Dean POV 

“Dean, what are you doing here?” Your voice pulls him from the memory of that night, and he looks to see you standing at the door, one hand holding open the screen door. 

Oh fuck, well, this wasn’t the plan at all. Giving her a smile, “Hey Y/N, I was in the neighborhood…thought I would…”

“So you're stalking me now?”

“Hehe, no, I said I was in the neighborhood, wanted to see how you are…you look good.” He says, letting his eyes look at you. You did look good, but tired, your eyes didn’t shine like they normally did before; the spark, the hint of twinkle is gone.

“Liar, I look like shit, but thanks.” You quip, knowing that you don’t look good at all. Wearing a ratty hoodie and jeans, you opted for comfort over trying to impress anyone. “Well, thanks for stopping by.” You say, giving him a fake smile and turning to walk back in the house. 

“Umm…Y/N, I could, I mean Sam could use your help with something, he knew I was going to be passing through and wanted me to stop by and ask for some help.” Quickly thinking on his feet, he creates an excuse. He didn’t want to leave yet, this is the most he has talked to you since that night. He would be damned if he was going to let you leave so soon. 

You turn back to look at Dean, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth or not. Sam had your number, and you were still speaking to the younger Winchester - he didn’t break your heart and live up to everything you knew would happen. “Why didn’t he call me?” You question, wanting to make Dean work for it. He wasn’t getting in that easy!

He takes a few steps towards you, “well, like I said, he knew I was in the area.” One step lower from you, his green eyes lock with yours, silently pleading with you to let him in. “He wanted me to pick up a lore book on Pixies, and said you had a copy that we don't have in the library.”

“Fine, come in. I will go grab it.” You reply, turning away from him, letting him catch the door before it slams in his face. 

Dean shucks off his jacket and boots, and looks around while you go back to find the book. He can now see the post-its in detail, reminding you where your keys, jacket, bag should be put. Making his way to the kitchen, cabinets are labeled with what should be in them: dry food, dishes, silverware. Daily schedule on the fridge. “Having fun snooping?” Your sarcastic tone has him turning on his heels to see you standing in the doorway with a book in hand. 

“Umm…sorry…” he says sheepishly, hating  that he got caught. He can see you're not amused, and he is really going to have to lay on the charm to win you back. 

“Yeah, well at least I am keeping the post-it company in business. Here is the book.” You say handing it to him.

Dean takes it, and looks at it, giving it a nod, “Thanks, yep this is it.” 

“Okay, well, you better get going, since Sam is in ‘desperate’ need of it and all.” Your voice is flat, not in the mood to deal with him. “You know where the door is.” You add, just turning that knife even deeper. 

“Look, Y/N can we talk?” Dean can tell you're not your usual self, and he really wants to get you back.

“Oh now you want to talk? You sure as hell didn’t want to talk for four months. Didn’t want to talk when you woke up the next morning regretting that kiss, regretting what we said to each other, the promises you made.” You snap at him, the frustration building in you. Why does it always have to be on his time? God you were just getting over him, right?

“I know. I was a jerk, it was a dick move, and I am sorry.”

“You're sorry, really?That's all you have to say?” Turning away from him, just looking at him and his sad puppy dog face, you want to smack him. Fuck, you want to hit yourself for being an idiot that night. 

******

“Dean…please…I…” You have to keep strong, tell him to go, you know this won’t end well.

“Please Y/N, You're the only good thing I have in this world, I can’t lose you.” Not waiting for a reply, his lips find yours. 

They're soft, perfect, molded to fit yours, and gentle, Dean doesn’t force his way. Pulling away, when your lungs start to burn,you lock eyes with him. Lust blown, his lips slightly pink. No words are exchanged, you silently say everything you need to him at that moment, and he seems to understand. Bringing his hands to cup your face, he goes back in to kiss you more, letting his tongue swipe across your lips. You allow his tongue to dance with yours. 

Fumbling your way to the couch, Dean falls back first, and you do your best not to land on top of him completely, giggling at the state you're both in. Dean looks up at you, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear, and looking up at you lovingly, “God, I love that laugh of yours.” He says, pulling you down on him. Letting you feel what you're doing to him. 

“Dean, I have to be crushing you.” You protest, trying your best but failing at getting out of the vice grip Dean has on your hips. 

“Nope, You're staying right here.” He says, as he starts to pepper kisses down your neck. 

******

“Dean, I begged you to leave! I knew you never wanted me! And yet like an idiot, I fell for your charm and under your spell.” You grit out, turning on your heels and walking away from him. Fuck, you can’t keep doing this! 

“I did ... .I do ...Y/N look at me” Dean pleads, setting the book down he follows you to the living room, grabbing your hand. “Please, let me explain.”

Turning around, you pull your hand back. His touch, like fire, like touching a hot pan. “You know, I thought for a split second you were telling me the truth. That you wanted me like I have always wanted you.” Pain radiates through you, your voice seems to be stuck behind a lump forming in your throat. God, you want to smack him, but at the same time, kiss him.

Dean’s speechless, trying to work out how best to tell you what he was thinking in that split second when he woke up in your arms that day. For one second he felt total bliss, that everything was falling into place; then reality of his life came back into focus.

“I know, it wasn’t my finest hour.”

You laugh at this, you think!? “What is there to explain? We kissed, had a pretty good makeout, groped each other over and under our clothes, but then we both agreed to take it slow. Right?” You ask for confirmation, even though you remember it all too well.

“Yes, but, Y/N, if you just let me…” Dean stumbles to explain.

“But then, I wake up the next morning alone on the couch with a note that says, ‘Hey, Y/N, Sorry, Sammy needs me, will check in soon.’”

The space between you two is nonexistent. You're trying to find anything in those green eyes of his that will refute anything you just said. Anything to explain that you're overreacting, but there is nothing. He has no rebuttal, because it's all true. He walked out on you, like his father did to him and Sam all the time. The worst part was, Dean had Sam to lean on; you were left with no one.

“Like I said, not my finest hour…” he mumbles out.

“Not your goddamn finest hour?ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!” you yell, slamming your fists into his chest and pushing him away.  It does nothing to move him, and takes all your energy out of you. You stumble a bit, then lean back and sit on the arm of the couch.

“Hey, Y/N, please, calm down.'' His voice is heavy with concern, and he tries to help you up so you can sit on the couch.

“Don’t…touch…me…” You cough out. Needing water, you look to find your water bottle is nowhere. “Fuck….I…” You keep coughing, and try to get up.

“Water?” Dean questions. You nod, and try to get back up. “No, sit, I will go get it.” He tells you and quickly goes to the kitchen, and is back with a glass of water in seconds.

You down about half, the cool water helps calm you and your coughing fits. “Thanks” you mumble, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he ‘saved you again.’ You don’t look at him as you sit down the glass and avoid him at all costs.

Dean takes this as his opportunity to tell you his side. Sitting on the coffee table so he has direct eye contact with you, he reaches for your hand. “Please, Y/N, I am truly sorry. I know I was a jerk for leaving you like that, and for never calling or coming back.”

You stare him down, not  giving him an out on this one. “Go on. You will hear no objection from me on this one.” You reply.

Dean lets out a small sigh that clearly said fuck, alright here we go. “I was fucking scared, okay? I woke up, saw you in my arms, and for a split second I felt like I was home. My first thought was, this is perfection. No monster, no running the roads, crappy dinner food, and sketchy motels.” 

He leans towards you, putting a hand on your knee, and lightly runs his hands up and gives you a knowing smile. “The perfect, sexy, beautiful, girl in my arms, that I can’t wait to wake up and…”

You stop his hand from getting too close to what both you and him want to touch. “Not so fast  Winchester.” Knowing if he keeps going, you are definitely going to end up in a very compromising position. “No, I bet your first thought was, oh fuck what the hell did I do, and how the hell do I get out of it.”

“No, will you let me talk?. God, I see COVID can take your memory, but not your self-hatred or inability to butt in.” 

You hold your hands up in a fake defense, “Please go on.” You quip back, leaning back into the couch. 

Dean shakes his head, at least you’re sassing back, that is a good sign. “I got up, was going to start coffee for us, and while I was in the kitchen, Sam did call…

*******

“Hey Sammy,”

“How’s everything Dean, you kinda left me hanging? Did you and Y/N talk?” Sam asks, feeling like a schoolgirl catching up on the latest gossip between you too.

Dean takes a quick peek into the living room to make sure you're still asleep. “Yeah, everything is good. We talked and I think we are going to take things slow.” Dean explains, as he starts to make the coffee, he recounts most of the conversation between you two. Not all the details though, he wants to keep the really good stuff just for him. 

Sam lets out a sigh, “That's good, I am happy for you both. But now I hate to ask.”

“What is it?”

“Look, I know you still want to take some time, until Y/N is fully healed, but Jody could really use your help. There is something in South Dakota that is running amuck, and she’s worried that Claire is going to try and tackle it herself.”

Oh Claire, how she reminds Dean of himself sometimes, headstrong and just ready to fight anything that wasn’t human. She is a good hunter, but she is young. “Umm…yeah…I am sure I can make something work….”

“Thanks Dean, I am sure it will only be a day or two, and then you can get back to Y/N. I will call Jody and tell her to expect you.” Sam says.

Saying their goodbyes, Dean hangs up the phone, and has to hold back from throwing it across the room in anger. Fuck! Not two seconds, and he’s already been pulled back into the madness. How is he going to explain this to her? She won’t believe him, she will be heartbroken again, think it's her fault, and say that she told him. 

Seeing no other solution - or maybe it was that he didn’t want to wake you and see that pain in your eyes - he takes the cowardly way out. 

*****

“So you went to help Jody, a friend of mine. And didn’t think I would understand?” You question him, after he explains the conversation between him and Sam. 

“Yes…I guess I figure you would just see it as an excuse I came up with to leave you. Which it wasn’t, by the way.”

“But you said you would call, check in. But you didn’t! You couldn’t have been helping Jody this whole time? And even if you were, could you still have called!”

“I wanted to, but as I was driving away, I kept thinking about what you said, that you felt like an afterthought, that I blow through town whenever I need you. Take what I need and leave you with nothing.”

“So you figure, prove me right by ghosting me? Well, thanks Winchester, real fun.” You spit sarcastically, giving his knee a not-so-playful slap and getting up from the couch. “The door is still where you left it, you can see yourself out.” Fucking asshole. I need to get those locks changed tomorrow. You think, making your way to the kitchen to get some more water, to do anything but sit there and keep listening to him.

“Y/N, please. I am sorry, you're not an afterthought. The more that I kept driving, and the longer I pushed off calling you, it made it harder to call you. Because I knew as soon as I did I would lose you.”

“Funny, because the second you left, you lost me Dean. God, I woke up that morning and was devastated. Do you know how much I hate feeling like that?” Not needing him to answer, you lean up against the counter crossing your arms around yourself. Feeling the tears start to fall, you might as well go all the way. 

“You know, I never wanted to be that girl, who cried over a guy, who refused to do anything but sleep on that goddamn couch for two months because it was the last place I felt safe, and whole, and seen. I could still smell you on the pillows and blanket.” 

Taking a breath, you run your hands over your face. Taking another ragged breath, you work up the courage to tell him what you know he should know, but that you're scared to say out loud. “But the thing I hate the most, the one thing that makes me want to scream…is that I still love you.” You laugh at this. Its fucking absurd. Trying your best  to stifle your laughter, but it keeps bubbling out of you in frustration and disbelief 

Dean’s not sure how to react. On the one hand, you say that you still love him, but on the other hand your laughing like the fucking Joker. “Being in love with me is…funny?” he tentatively asks. Taking a few steps towards you, but not closing the distance. 

Wiping the tears from your face, you admit quietly, “yes, because I know, no matter what, I will always let you back in. I guess I am just a masochist that way. I would rather have you in my life, and be heartbroken, than to not have you and still be heartbroken.”

Shaking your head, in disbelief that you actually said those words out loud, and to Dean no less. You look up to see him watching you, waiting. “God I am pathetic…you really should not have saved me that night…” you mumble the last part to yourself. Pushing yourself off the counter, you turn away from him, to straighten up the non-existent mess on the counter. Shit, should not have said that. 

“GOD DAMN IT Y/N!” Dean’s yell booms, causing you to turn around to see Dean seething with rage.    Taking the last few steps towards you, he pulls you into a vice grip of a hold. “Don’t you ever say that again, do you hear me? Do you?” He commands, shaking with hurt and pain. 

He’s not angry at you, he's angry that you don’t understand how much you mean to him. That you hold your life as something subpar. Pulling away slightly, he lets go so he can hold your face in his hands. “Please don’t ever think or say that I shouldn’t have saved you that night.” His green eyes, glassy with tears about to be shed, bore into yours. “You are the only good thing in my life, and I know I have a lot of work to do to gain your trust back, and that my life is messy and chaotic, but please…please….don’t ever think I would regret saving you that night.”

You nod your head in response. “Okay” you whisper, “I promise.” You were taken aback by his outburst; Dean has never raised his voice to you, or looked this broken. Then again, you’ve never been this broken, or joked about that night before either. It was a topic that neither of you ever really discussed, more of an unspoken bond between you two.

Relief seems to wash over him. His hands fall from your face, his arms wrapping them around your waist, not wanting to leave the closeness of you. “I know I have a lot of work to do, and this may be pushing my luck. But can I kiss you?” Giving you a half smile, hoping that will seal the deal.

“Fuck, there’s that Winchester charm,” you joke, smirking as well. Screw it, it's been four months without those lips. You lean in and kiss him. Letting your lips dance with his for a bit, you pull back, “just as good and I remember.” you say cheekily.

“So, should we go make some new memories on that couch of yours?” Dean gives you a wink, walking backwards towards the living room, his arms still around yours.

You have no choice but to follow him, nodding. You know that you have a lot of work to do getting over your own insecurities and self doubt that Dean will get tired of you, or that he will regret being with you. You need to have faith in him, and in yourself, that you are worthy of a happy life with him; whatever that looks like.

[bolognamayhem117]

Title: "Looking at Something?"

Length: 2500 words

Pairing: Astarion/M!Tav, elf/elf, paladin/rogue

POV: Tav(Rorik)

Themes: Aggressive flirting, praise kink (if you turn your head and squint), safe for work, mild angst, retconned Canon Dialog.

Warnings: trauma, manipulation, anger, neck wounds, alludes to distant past and recent abuse.

Author's Notes: First and foremost a disclaimer, I created this character on my first playthrough after Robert and I bought the game a year ago. I picked up the controller with zero knowledge of the game's contents after being told you could play as a vampire. I said "That's bold of the developer, fuck it, I'll make Rorik's dumb ass and smeagol my way through the forgotten realms or whatever..." Turns out the person who told me that was referencing the Astarion Origin playthrough. I said "Screw It I'm Doing It Anyway! With the power of IMAGINATION." To my delight and surprise it really wasn't all that hard to use paladin spells, items, scroll hoarding, and armor to very closely model the homebrew build of Rorik the Degenerate Dhampir Sun Worshipping Paladin. He has his own issues which this ficlet hints at. He's cringe, be gentle.

Fic Summary: Astarion is looking for reassurance or praise or... Something, and then the writer remembered they used the intelligence as a dump stat to boost their Tav's charisma and rolled with it. Mentions a friend's character. I only barely proofread so consider this your warning.

Tagged at request: @ghostkingart

“Looking at something?” Astarion addressed Rorik when the paladin passed behind him and paused.

Rorik was tired, he'd stopped on his way back from a piss because something wasn't right. He’d been too beaten by the beasts of the underdark to process the scene before him for its absurdity. The vampire spawn was holding a hand mirror, scowling into it as if scorn might make his reflection appear in its smooth glitter.

The high elf angled the mirror in such a way that Rorik could see himself. Did he always look so serious? Yet disinterested? Rorik seldom sought his reflection, it wasn't a countenance he wanted to face.

“Just looking. What are you doing?”

“I'm looking too, but not seeing very much” Astarion told Rorik almost softly, sadly. “Another quirk of my affliction.” he spat the last word as if it tasted rancid, eyes dark and lips cutting a sour pout.

Rorik had heard these sorrow-songs many times in his homeland and beyond. He was no stranger to this agony, but it never got easier to hear it, even from a spawn he hardly knew, harboring a strain of the cursed malady he was not so familiar with. It seemedthat no matter the variant, it affects one's reflection in glass treated with a paper thin veneer of silver.

Rorik played the fool, wrong as it felt to pretend he needed to ask questions in order to guess how Astarion might feel about not having seen himself in centuries.

“Do you miss it? Seeing your own face?”

“Preening in the looking glass? Petty vanity?!” He bordered on sounding offended, but his expression shifted with the same flippancy as his whims. Sometimes Rorik wondered if Astarion was making himself hard to read on purpose. Now, with a short but heavy pause, he went on with a longing about the droop of his shoulders and the way he looked at the other man, perhaps with jealousy. “Of course I do…”

He continued.

“I've never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and its eyes turned red.” And then, those scarlet eyes plunged back into darkness with his last syllables. His seething glare burned as hot as the Sun's love burned his vampiric skin in the day, before the illithid worm at least.

Rorik tried a question he'd heard many times before, sometimes even directed at himself. It might keep him talking. “What color were they before?”

“I... I don't know. I can't remember.” His glare softened with something that half revealed him, but the outraged anguish returned to him, as it tends to do. “My face is just some dark shape in my past. Another thing I've lost.”

Astarion threw down the mirror as he finished, it cracked as it struck the packed earth beneath them. If they were standing in a proper room of wooden or brick floor then the mirror would have shattered in a spectacular fashion.

Spiteing the fact that Astarion needn't air to live, he drew pants of heavy breath as he bared his teeth in his anger. He had every right to be angered, all spawn do.

Patience, Rorik reminded himself. As much as it went against his instincts to stick around within range of teeth while their owner bobbed between drowning in their own righteous fury and the oblivion of sorrow, there was always something about Astarion which lured him in. Rorik could still look at himself in a mirror, most of the time, and he thought maybe the reason he hadn't yet walked away from Astarion while he tantrumed about his past, present or Casador might just be because: he could see his reflection in Astarian, too. His pain felt all too familiar.

“What?” Astarian broke him from his thoughts.

Rorik corrected quickly, unsure what his own expression had revealed. He straightened a head that had tilted toward his left shoulder, fixed his eyes which he guessed had softened upon Astarian’s anger on base instinct. Too close. He'd almost fallen victim to his old habits, but Astarian was no flailing racer stallion who required the softness of a coddling stable pony to calm him. And Rorik was nobody's pony anymore.

“I'll be your mirror. What do you want to know?” It was a cheap distraction, yes, but he found in it genuine empathy. Astarian couldn't see himself, hadn't seen himself in two-hundred years, he deserved the next best thing.

“I want to know what the world sees when it looks at me. What you see.” Astarian replied with another reflection, this time of Rorik’s own sincerity.

The deferring tipping of Astarian's head told it all. A wound had been bared for Rorik to examine, one he could grind salt into and Astarian knew that. It was the scattered moments of vulnerability that helped Rorik stay, too.

He feigned a smile just in time, before his silence convinced Astarion that something was wrong. The others' brows were already creased as he braced to be hurt.

“Well, the shmutz of bullette viscera smeared on your left cheek has my attention right now.” Rorik jabbed casually.

Astarion scrubbed his wrist over his face with an irritable grimace, following Rorik's gesture to find the supposed smear of gore, only to find nothing because Rorik was having a little fun at his expense. Astarion was fastidious in his grooming. He’d missed nothing when he'd washed.

Rorik was rewarded with a glare, so he laughed, “If I didn't like you, I wouldn't jest… I'm not a poet, I'm not romantic by any stretch of the imagination, and I don't do flattery. So brace yourself.”

“Oh.. Kay…?” Astarion murmured.

Rorik straightened his posture to look Astarion from the toe of each tidy elvish crafted loafer up to the top most curl of his head of white silver. Consciously taking him in only topically.

“If I were unbiased and this were my first impression: Your face is long but not overly narrow. Your nose is very straight, cutting a tidy profile. I imagine you've never had it broken. The fairness of your skin hints at a noble upbringing; a childhood spent indoors rather than under the gaze of the noon sun. Your hands are clean and unmarred, so for certain you're not a laborer. You are clearly particular about how your hair is done every morning… Your jaw is angled sharply toward your chin but is neither too strong nor too weak. It suits you well. Your lips are full which reinforces an air of youth about you, and your upper lip is just a bit thicker than the lower without being distracting… About five foot and eleven inches, shoulders broad enough to mandate care toward them when having garments tailored… In all, The world sees a young elf.”

Rorik bit the end of his tongue as he finished, holding back the last and decidedly biased thought: that he saw all these things too but accompanied by eyes which looked as tired as he often felt himself.

Astarion's expression was empty yet soft, gaze drifting into the middle distance until the very end when his brows furrowed and his mouth twisted as if something had curdled in it.

“Eugh! Must you always make everything sound so clinical!? You told Edmund this morning the cactus where your heart should be has beautiful flowers and that was backhanded!” Astarion mocked Rorik's northerner accent, badly, “I know you can do better than that. Ugh, for shits’ sake, why do you find me attractive? Why does anyone find me attractive, Rorik?”

That took Rorik off guard. This wasn't just about forgetting one's own appearance, was it? It was about Astarion understanding how the world was affected by his body being in it. Rorik shifted in discomfort, now put on the spot to summarize the things he personally found alluring. He felt almost dirty saying it.

“I- suppose people can't help themselves but to admire? You're striking. Perfectly styled snow hair, you're well formed… Em, lovely skin? like opal? White opal. Were you true symmetrical I would've drawn my sword, having mistook you for a stone wit-”

“I- I'm not symmetric?? Where is my face uneven!? Tell me this instant!” The high elf squawked, hands smoothing up the planes and dips of his visage in search.

Rorik snorted. Astarion seemed like the type to become offended at the mention of a slightly uneven cupid’s bow. Best not add to his self image anxieties too much. A true lie would have to do.

“You have a freckle or two, perhaps from your recent love affair with the sun.”

“Freckles?!”

“Oh, relax. Not near as many as me.” Rorik reassured.

“Hmph. That was… Better-ish, I suppose. You're onto something, keep going.”

Rorik's expression pinched with realization. “Is that all you're after? Shallow praise?”

“Hardly! I'm also after gold, sex, revenge. Quite the list, really, and failing any of those I will always settle for: shallow praise.”

“Fuck that noise. I can do better than patting your ass with a couple cheap compliments.”

“Care to expand on that? I can't tell if I'm being derided or offered an upgrade from your awkward small talk.” Astarion harrumphed and began picking under his fingernails, apparently checking out of the conversation in a display of boredom.

Rorik stepped closer to recapture his attention, spurred forward by a volatile cocktail of embarrassment, ego, and vindictiveness that had spilled in close proximity to the competitive streak within him.

“I used to be good at this. I swear. You'll just have to be patient while I call it back to me.” Rorik leveled in a low rumble, and it was no bluff. Idle worship of a bloated ego had saved his skin in his youth more times than he could count. This bordered too close to an exhumation of the corpse of his past, but if the occasion calls for it in the name of harmless fun: then let old habits lumber about like a fucking zombie.

Astarion's eyes lit themselves with dark amusement, leaning in too with a smug sneer, “Call louder. I think it ran straight past you.”

Rorik wasted no breath on the others' taunting. He delivered. “Your eyes are extraordinary, they burn through people like a branding iron. I'd rather face a devil I’d sleighted.”

Astarion let loose the bark and giggle of laughter which used to grate on Rorik's nerves, “Oh, not bad… and you said you don't do flattery! Do go on.”

That's one point to Rorik. He wanted more than that. He wanted to win whatever this was. “They have their moments of immeasurably inviting softness, too. Eyes like yours tend to get their way with me, if I'm being honest… And don't let that go to your head.”

“Ha! Hard not to. That's a dangerous admission.” Astarion swayed his shoulders and hummed with an odd, rich texture in his voice. His expression was guarded, however.

“Awareness of one's weaknesses is healthy, I'm told..” Rorik commented rather pointlessly. Choosing pretty analogies for the features of a face he found attractive felt more risky than it should. Rorik's jaw and throat felt hot for no particular reason. “Moving on. Your smile is deadly. Like a bear trap lined with sweet meats and candied fruit. A pout, a grin, a laugh, they all draw me closer…”

Closer. Astarion must've taken the utterance of the word as an invitation. He brandished that smile like a blade now and brought them near nose to nose. “Yes, yes. You're right. But we know better, don't we, Rorik?”

Not fair. Rorik’s naked skull felt like it was on fire, and the feeling was not limited to neck and up.

“We do. You can't lure bats with candy in pretty wrappers.” he tilted his head with his words, ever so minutely, exposing the angry punctures in his throat.

“If it isn't the sweet taste that draws you in, then what is it? Tell me Acolyte.”

Rorik shook his head. “You know I'm a masochist. You know the answer to that.”

“Aw, Little Treat longs to be trapped? How delightfully demented.”

“Mm,” Rorik offered a solemn nod. It was another admission of those dirty weaknesses. “Last thing for now-”

“For now?” Astarion crooned, grinning wickedly as he underlined Rorik's implication that he may have more to say on this particular topic at a later date.

“For now,” Rorik confirmed but teased… Teasing? He'd never teased like this, in this context, before. Best end on a note of humor, “Speaking of teeth, you've the most polite little feedin’ fangs.”

“...What?” Astarion straightened then and leaned away.

Rorik must've thrown him off his rhythm with that one. Right. Astarion was from a small coven, and apparently not one which enjoyed the bleak humors of the condition.

Rorik leaned minutely closer and bared his razors in a grimace with a finger directing attention to them. “I'm saying, your teeth look almost normal. At least compared to these lawn shears I was saddled with. Your smile is still sharp, but passable. Many with the condition aren't so lucky.”

“Good to know I'm not a complete freak.” Astarion harrumphed.

“Maybe I crossed the line. I forget, not everyone reconciles it all so easily.” Rorik admitted, but refused to backpedal that last opinion.

“I suppose I can give you a pass on it, given that you were born with… All of that.” Astarion gave a waving finger gesturing to all of Rorik as he half-accepted the half-apology.

Rorik couldn't help but chuckle and look away, the imagery brought to mind was too heinous and ridiculous all at once. “Well, I was indistinguishable from the living until I consumed blood at fifteen-ish but, sure. I wasn't bottle fed monk blood as a tot. Couldn't imagine that horror.”

"Normal children are horrible enough… Now, why don't you just tell me I'm beautiful and we'll call it an evening.” Astarion shifted the topic smartly, but looked away for a moment too.

The dance was strange. Rorik wasn't sure what they were doing, but he sort of liked it.

“You're alright, Gale is more my type.” Rorik lied, blatantly.

“How dare you!” Astarion's tone was playful, rather than offended, although it's always hard to tell with Astarion, “I thought we had something special… Still, you're nice too. I’d better get some beauty sleep. It seems I need it if I'm to catch up with the competition.”

Rorik could only shake his head. Everyone has a type. Astarion's was apparently fractured faces and a malignant glare. Rainar's glare. Rorik quickly tossed aside the errant thought and the accompanying cruel memory. He dipped his head before deciding to attend his own sleep.

“Sure sure, but do tread with caution. The pursuit of perfection is perilous, and you're already knocking on the door.” Rorik offered with a smirk. This game was… fun.

“Hhmf! Says he's not romantic,” Astarion mocked talking to himself, shooting a dark glance and that dangerous smile over his shoulder as Rorik retreated to his bedroll by the fire.

[thoselethalarts]

𝒮𝓉𝒶𝒽𝓁𝒾 ℋ𝑒𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓇 - 𝒫𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎

(R) Gym Uniform: “Just in Case.”

(NRC: Sports Field)

Cater: Whew! Finally a break~ Maybe it’s just me, but I feel like Vargas is going harder on us than usual today. I’m, like, totally running on fumes over here.

Lilia: Do you think so? I feel like I’m working in peak form today, actually.

Lilia: Or rather, at least as well as one could be in this oppressive heat and sunshine.

Stahli: Why the long faces, my friends? Kopf hoch, chin up! The weather’s great and the day’s only just begun!

Cater: Cay-Cay’s doing his best~ I just need a minute to recharge my batteries is all.

(Growl….)

Stahli: Uhm? Are you feeling alright, Cater?

Cater: Ah- oh sorry. Yeah, I’m alright, just a little peckish is all.

Lilia: Oh, you’re hungry. It’s not a wonder at all then that you’re feeling so lethargic at this time of day.

Cater: Yeaaahh… I actually didn’t get to eat breakfast this morning before class.

Cater: When I got up, some of the first years made a huuuuge mess in the breakfast kitchen. I had to spend all morning helping them clean up before Riddle found out about it.

Cater: I probably could've let them just take their punishment, but there’s no way I could just eat around them either. So I just didn’t have anything~

Lilia: That’s not good! A young, growing lad like yourself shouldn’t be skipping meals.

Lilia: I would offer you a licorice candy, but sadly I don’t carry those on my person when I attend my gym period.

Stahli: Oh! Just a moment, I have something you can eat!

(Stahli rummages around in his sports bag)

Stahli: Here! Would you like some dried fruit, mini pretzels, mixed nuts, or a granola bar?

Cater: Oh! Um, how about the pretzels?

Stahli: Certainly~ Here you go!

Cater: Weew! Thanks, Stahli, you’re a lifesaver~

(Munch munch…)

Cater: Oh, these are nice actually! They have a great crunch to them, you’ve got good taste, Stahli~

Stahli: Danke! They’re my favorite brand to get for snacks, I’m glad that you like them!

Cater: Not that I’m complaining, but why do you have these on you, anyway?

Stahli: Oh, I have lots of things I always have on my person, just in case of emergencies.

Stahli: I have some mints, honey packets, dried fruit, granola, mixed nuts, some napkins, hand sanitizer, and some feminine hygiene products.

Lilia: Feminine hygiene products?

Stahli: Oh, they’re not for me. I live with four sisters, so I’m used to carrying some with me just in case.

Stahli: I actually forgot to take them out of my bag when I first came here to Night Raven, but some of them have come in handy here too, so I keep buying them and keeping them on hand just in case someone else needs them~

Cater: Oh yeah! You’re still doing that too, huh? You really came in clutch when I ran out when we were still first years~

Cater: Cay-Cay doesn’t need his anymore, but I’ve still got some left over that I’ve been holding onto just in case someone else needs them too~

Lilia: I can understand the food, napkins, and hygiene products, however I’m curious as to why you would carry parcels of honey on hand too.

Stahli: That’s also because of one of my sisters! She’s diabetic, so I started carrying some honey packets with me just in case she has low blood sugar.

Stahli: I originally started bringing the snacks for her too but she told me they aren’t as helpful if she actually had an emergency, which was a shame…

Stahli: But, my youngest sister still liked it when I had snacks on hand in case she got hungry, so I kept them around anyway.

Cater: You really do a lot for your siblings, huh? Well, I can relate to that too~ I’m the youngest, so taking care of my older sisters is something I’ve had to do forever.

Stahli: Well, I’m not the youngest of us so it isn’t quite the same. I just care about my family is all.

Stahli: My siblings and I have always been rather close ever since my mother and stepmother met. We help each other with the chores and each other’s homework, and of course we all help out with the shop our parents run when they need us!

Stahli: Besides, it would be truly awful if one of them had to meet the other side this soon in life! We’ve all got too much life to live ahead of us for any of that.

Lilia: Hoho! I can concur with that sentiment.

Lilia: I’m not as spry as I once was, but I’ve still no intention of leaving this mortal coil yet. I’ve seen the other side myself, and there’s nothing there worth dying for faster!

Stahli: Hehehe, same here! I’m sure it’ll be a nice retreat once it’s time for me to stay there forever, but I’d rather not make that trip again quite yet!

Lilia & Stahli: Hahahaha~!

Cater: Eheheheeehhh… I can never tell when you two are joking and it lowkey scares me sometimes.

/ End

[jadelotusflower]

Nostalgia Rewatch: Superman (1978) - part 1

I love Superman. There are aspects I love about every Superman adaptation (although some more than others). But it all started here, with this film which I watched as a young child - so young I can't remember exactly how old I was. It's just something that's always been a part of me.

In the superhero genre, Superman comes closer than any other in evoking the myth and folklore of antiquity - the same story told again and again for 87 years and counting. Kal-El is, for all intents and purposes, a sun god, and the pinnacle of the modern pantheon of heroes. But in many ways, Clark Kent is a bridge to more modern sensibilities - in ancient myths gods and goddesses were often fickle, and heroes were defined by their great deeds rather than their great goodness, while our modern tastes lend towards the inspirational as well as the aspirational.

Superman: The Movie (as it is sometimes known) is aptly named, because it has become the definitive version of the story despite being far from the first adaptation. It's akin to other modern foundational folklore The Wizard of Oz, in which the 1938 film dominates the public consciousness despite it coming after 40 years of source material and adaptation. Whilst viewers were familiar with superheroes on screen in the form of film serials such as Flash Gordon, Buck Rogers et al (and even Superman in 1948), and in television, with the George Reeves' Adventures of Superman in the 50's followed by other soon-to-be-staples Batman and Wonder Woman, in 1978 Superman broke ground in bringing a comic book story to a full length feature film where the material was treated seriously, and not just kids fare.

It's with this context the film opens the way it does, with a curtain being pulled back to reveal a black and white 4:3 screen and a titlecard reading June 1938 (when the first Superman comic was published); a film within a film, evoking the story's comic origins as well as paying homage to the matinee serial. We see a child literally opening an issue of Action Comics and reading about the Daily Planet, which dissolves into film of the iconic globe before panning up into the sky, switching to colour and cinematic aspect ratio as we shoot across space to Krypton as the credits sequence.

The opening communicates in three ways that this is a fable, a fantasy - stage, print, and screen as if to ease the viewer into a suspension of disbelief. It's the kind of audience onramp that is absolutely unnecessary today, and yet still has a kind of bygone charm.

Ah, I kind of miss bombastic opening credits! What it must have felt to sit in a dark theatre, listen to that incredible theme, and watch those names sour over you for the first time. I've sadly never actually seen this film in the cinema, the version I watched as a kid was a vhs taped off the tv - one day maybe!

It's interesting to compare this film, which came out only a year after Star Wars, and whilst they occupy a similar genre space of superhero/space fantasy, and both evoke the aesthetic of 1930's media (Superman of comic books and 1930's newsroom dramas, and Star Wars 30's pulp sci-fi and adventure serials) they are diametrically opposed in the way they introduce the material. Star Wars, despite it's homage to opening crawl of Flash Gordan/Buck Rogers, was a trailblazer in dropping the viewer right into the action - in fact Lucas had to fight (and ultimately pay a fine) to forgo listing the credits at the beginning of Star Wars as he (rightly) felt it would ruin the immersion. Superman, in contrast, has a much more traditional credits sequence - after it's eased the viewer in, it hews close to what they would have expected from the film experience: a great theme and the names of everyone they're about to watch.

In this case, it's Marlon Brando with top billing, then Gene Hackman, then "A Richard Donner film", then SUPERMAN, then Christopher Reeve. As iconic as Reeve has become, at the time he was a relative unknown. The other credit that seems out of place in hindsight is Margot Kidder as Lois Lane, who comes after Ned Beatty (Otis) and Jackie Cooper (Perry White), Glenn Ford (Pa Kent), and Trevor Howard (Kryptonian Elder). But hey, that's showbiz - or at least it was then, now more emphasis is given to the size of the part and we assuage egos by using the "with" and "and" credits for big names with small roles.

But what really makes the credits is the theme by John Williams, just incredible piece of music that hits the right tone of triumphant and just a bit camp, now irrevocably linked with Superman as a character. Although in another Star Wars comparison, there's undeniable connective tissue between the two themes, I sometimes like ask people to hum the Star Wars Theme and then the Superman Theme and see them get it all mixed up.

Other credits of note: story by Mario Puzo (who wrote The Godfather) and "creative consultant" Tom Mankiewicz ( son of Joseph Mankeiwicz, who wrote All About Eve, and nephew of Herman Mankiewicz aka "Mank" who co-wrote Citizen Kane). Tom wrote several Bond films, LadyHawke, and a substantial re-write on the Superman screenplay although his credit was relegated to consultant due to issues with the WGA.

All that setup at the beginning is for a reason, because after the introduction and credits, we're drawn in through a red sun to an alien planet and there's just something so evocative about The Planet Krypton theme that sells the doomed majesty of it even though the sets are Styrofoam and mood lighting. Which is not a criticism! I'm old enough that often stagey sets feel more real to me than fully rendered landscapes.

And of course, the gravitas of Marlon Brando (great actor, terrible person by many accounts). Much is made about his lack of commitment to the project and refusal to learn lines, but damn if he doesn't sell Jor-El all the same. Much like Christopher Plummer in The Sound of Music, he hated the assignment, but he understood it.

This was a Brando acting choice (as well as laziness) - he believed in naturalistic performance with spontaneity in the delivery of dialogue.

It is interesting that for all the setup at the beginning to ease the audience in, we're then dropped right into things with the trial of Zod, Ursa, and Non in the Dome of Judgement.

"This is no fantasy. No careless product of wild imagination" are Joe-El's first lines which is neat juxtaposition to that setup - bridging the audience over to the alien but letting them know that now we're here things are serious. The colour and fun will come later, but reminding that audience that this story starts as a tragedy.

We also get Brando's unique pronunciation of "Kriptin" which is a treat.

Was this film one of the first of it's kind to set up its own sequel/franchise? Of course Superman I and II were filmed together so this scene is very explicitly meant to carry on into the next film, but it's kind of unique that we are given this introduction to Krypton that doesn't have any direct correlation to this film or Kal-El's escape, other than to establish Jor-El's character and status in the society.

It's all swings and roundabouts though - after this and its successors familiarised the audience with alien worlds and unabashed superheros and became progressively sillier, comic books films came to be considered passé and cringe, to the point where in late 90's/2000's the genre pivoted back to "realistic" and "grounded" superheroes, to the point where Kenneth Branagh making Thor expressed difficulties in not alienating (pun intended) the audience and needing to ground the film (and viewer) on Earth before showing Asgard. Marvel of course helped swing public acceptance back to "capes and costumes" and alien worlds - 2000 Wolverine eschewed yellow spandex for black leather, 2024 Wolverine articulates the opposite view - the same joke flowing in opposite directions to represent changing (if recycled) tastes..

We've even seen this in Superman over the years - this film, despite its updated 70's realism - sorry, "Verisimilitude!" as Donner was fond of saying - kept the primary colours and unabashed sentiment, Superman Returns retained the foundation but toned down the colour grading and humour, and Man of Steel leaned even further into the somber and gritty. But now we're back full circle to the bright colours and red trunks (and the Williams theme) with Superman 2025 - it really is cyclical.

"You will bow down before me! Both you, and then one day, your heirs!" Speaking of gravitas, Terence Stamp. You can really feel the history between these two men - both condemning the other through their oppositional morality. Arguably Zod (if only for self preservation) may have believed Jor-El about the planet's imminent destruction, and if Jor-El had accepted Zod's offer to join him they may have been able to save their civilization. On the other hand, how could Jor-El hand power to a would-be dictator fresh off a bloody coup attempt? Never team up with fascists no matter how your short term goals may seem to align.

I actually really love this whole sequence, achieved with practical effects and beautiful lighting design to highlight every shadow in Zod's face, and of course the shadowy council behind and their ominous pronouncement of judgement. While CGI can be incredible and used to tell the story, this really demonstrates that sometimes all you need is your actors, lean dialogue, and atmosphere.

Your face, madam! Sarah Douglas doesn't get much to do as Ursa, but she has a Presence.

The dome opening to trap the trio in the Phantom Zone has a ratcheting tension, and I love that the film opens with a measured pace. This sequence does make use of special effects that do seem a bit clunky today, but were in fact groundbreaking for the time.

You know, there's not enough extreme close ups in film these days, maybe because they can seem a little silly and my nostalgia goggles are just that strong.

After condemning Zod, Ursa, and Non to the Phantom Zone Jor-El meets with the Climate Change deniers on the council.

It's actually kind of funny how prescient and evergreen some of the issues this film deals with are. Wait, not funny. Depressing.

Am I giving too little credit to the late 1970's if I am kind of impressed there's at least one woman on the council? Of course she is the one who dismisses Jor-El's warning that the planet will explode with the rationalisation that Krypton is merely shifting its orbit, but on the other hand she is described as one of Krypton's greatest scientists, so...a wash? She is however the only council Elder who actually gets a name - it's Vond-Ah and she's played by Maria Schell, best known for German cinema but also starred in The Brothers Karamazov opposite Yul Brynner.

The Elders are an interesting cast of British actor establishment cameos - there's 1st Elder Trevor Howard (who got such a prime spot in the credits) who previously acting alongside Brando as Bligh in Mutiny on the Bounty and a host of other classics including Ryan's Daughter and Gandhi among others. 2nd Elder was theatre/Shakespearean and character actor Harry Andrews, 4th Elder was John Hollis, best known as Lobot in The Empire Strikes Back, 8th Elder William Russell who was Sorren in The Great Escape, with several other frequent dayplayers from tv and film.

It is interesting that Krypton is British/European-coded while of course the Superman mythos is firmly rooted as American - perhaps to give an old-world vibe to Krypton, a time and a people that will be left behind as Kal-El finds a new life on a new world. Superman is after all an immigrant story - creators Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster were both sons of immigrants (and of course the influence of their Jewish heritage in Superman's origin), as was Mankiewicz.

This film really is a spider web of old Hollywood - Trevor Howard and Marlon Brando on Mutiny, Maria Schell also starred with Glenn Ford in Cimarron, Trevor Howard and Harry Andrews were both in The Long Duel and Charge of the Light Brigade AND The Battle of Britain (which also had Susannah York), David Neal and John Hollis were both in Flash Gordon, etc etc.

I've always like the concept of the Kryptonian family crests - one of this film's greatest contribution to the mythos. I'm so invested in the way stories are adapted and the core elements someone adds along the way that become indelible - for The Wizard of Oz it was the witch's green skin and ruby slippers, for Superman it's the S as symbol for the House of El.

Interesting that Vond-Ah doesn't have one, but the woman behind her does. I think in the comics Krypton is a patriarchal society so perhaps this signifies that she is unmarried? Although Lara doesn't wear the El crest, but she isn't on the council, so...

The outer council robes also resemble capes, which is a nice touch.

"Neither I, nor my wife, will leave Krypton." Jor-El with the sneaky language! Also answering any questions about why Jor-El and Lara couldn't escape with Kal-El.

Susannah York plays Lara, and I love this scene, too ( just the whole Krypton sequence, really). Jor-El focuses on the academic (Earth's gravity will sustain him, his dense molecular structure will make him strong) while Lara's concerns are emotive (he won't be one of [us], he'll be odd, isolated) - each of them dealing with saying goodbye to their child in different ways.

Lara wears knee-high boots, another nice touch. I do like that we can see the aspects of the Superman costume in Kryptonian dress.

Just I note I'm watching the "special edition" dvd version, which includes an extra scene with the Elders know Jor-El is up to something - it's completely unnecessary and breaks up the momentum of the farewell scene.

"You will travel far, my little Kal-El, but we will never leave you, even in the face of our deaths. The richness of our lives shall be yours. All that I have, all that I've learned, everything I feel, all this and more I bequeath you my son. You will carry me inside you all the days of your life. You will make my strength your own, see my life through your eyes, as your life will be seen through mine. The son becomes the father and the father the son. This is all I can send you, Kal-El."

I know Brando was reading it off cue cards, but damn what a speech! Maybe it's the nostalgia, but it still gets me, I love this whole scene. Just beautiful, but I'm a sucker for this kind of lyrical/arch style of dialogue.

Unfortunately Lara doesn't get to say anything to farewell her baby. She will have that connection in Superman II (due to all of the production drama that meant they weren't able to use Brando) which gives II an unintended maternal reflection on I's paternal. For the record I don't have a strong view on the theatrical vs Donner cut, I like aspects of both, but the switching out of Jor-El for Lara as Clark's confident in II does change the tone which is interesting.

Apparently Susannah York questioned Mankiewicz asking why Lara doesn’t get to send anything with her son like Jor-El, to which he quipped that “when you’re getting $3 million dollars for eleven days work you can send something too” - referring of course to Brando’s immense (for the time) fee.

However in the Donner cut of Superman II, we do hear Jor-El say that Lara sent Kal three blankets, red, yellow, and blue to protect him and ensure his strength, so I guess the intention was there, they just cut it from the first film.

We can also assume the blankets become his costume, a parallel to other Superman media where Martha makes Clark's costume for him - for this Superman, it was Lara who bequeathed it. Which does fit into the established dynamic - from Jor-El he is gifted information and education, from Lara protection and iconography.

The destruction of Kryton isn't bloody but it is violent - as they are consumed by the sun (an Icarus reference seems apt), the walls collapse, pillars piece the walls and tumble in on each other, the Dome slowly sinks into the surface of the planet.

The Kryptonians tumbling into the red-lit void is quite a thing. Is it their descent into hell?

Interesting that Jor-El and Lara are not among them, in fact we don't see their deaths on screen.

Mankiewicz has confirmed that some of the religious parallels in the film was intentional, although in my view it's in the subtext at best. I like to think of it as more of an allusion rather than allegory.

At this point when leaving Krypton, we're around 20 minutes into the film - quite the prologue!

Um, this huge honking SUN was closing in on the planet and the council was still all yeah no worries, just shifting our orbit! They were worried about the power surge in Jor-El's quarters and looking to punish him instead of glancing out the window and thinking oh, looks like Rao's getting awful close, maybe Jor-El had a point about the whole doomsday thing? Don't Look Up I guess.

"Spanning the 28 known galaxies" - all that knowledge and they still let their planet blow up. Hubris, the downfall of many a great society, and (sadly) just as relevant a cautionary tale now as it was then.

Kal-El gets lessons from Jor-El as he travels to Earth, with some nice exposition for the audience about the powers he will have, and foreshadowing as Jor-El forbids him to interfere with human history.

On the journey the spaceship passes by all the celestial wonders we saw in the opening credits (and the trio in the Phantom Zone) which is a nice touch.

Jonathan and Martha Kent, Glenn Ford and Phyllis Thaxter. I do love how sanguine Martha is about Clark being an alien. She doesn't care where this baby came from, he's hers now.

Back in the day when you could just suddenly have a kid living with you claiming them to be the orphan of a relative and no one batted an eye.

We also have the origin of his Earth name when Jonathan calls her "Martha Clark Kent" (I assume her maiden name). Even though Jor-El and Jonathan are the primary paternal figures in the story, we do get a touch of Lara and Martha's influence.

We see the red blanket in the spaceship as Clark crawls out, not at all resembling the shiny blanket we was put in with. But let's assume the blankets that will become his costume were already packed in there and the metallic swaddling was excess.

Lana Lang v 1.0 - not Annette O'Toole, who was Lana in Superman III. Here she's played by Diane Sherry, opposite Jeff East as young Clark (but who was dubbed by Christopher Reeve).

This Lana is notably lacking a backbone, as she just goes off with her boyfriend after he deliberately knocks over all the stuff Clark just packed up rather than staying and helping him or tearing Brad a new one.

Oof, the superspeed effects do not hold up at all.

The train scene is extended to include an extra moment with the little girl who sees Clark speed by, but was another addition that was unnecessary.

The little girl, allegedly, is Lois, which is kind of fine in concept (and a nice nod to the comics where Lois was always trying to prove Clark was Superman but no one believed her) but I think hurts the film overall. To have a Lois so much younger than Clark (or younger at all really) feels really off, and if Lois had seen a boy in Kansas run like that when she was a girl you'd think she'd remember and be more suspicious of Clark when Superman shows up.

However the scene is notable for cameos Kirk Alyn and Noel Neill, who played Superman and Lois Lane in the first live action Superman serial in 1948 - Neill was also the second Lois (after Phyllis Coates) in the Adventures of Superman tv show. One thing I do love about Superman media is the pattern of former actors popping up in new adaptations - in particular the trend for actors portraying Lois to go on to fill the role of Lois's mother in the next generation adaption, starting here and continuing in Lois & Clark (Phyllis Coates to Teri Hatcher) and Smallville (Teri Hatcher to Erica Durance).

This moment between Clark and Jonathan is so crucial because they have to sell the relationship in this single scene - it's beautifully shot too, in a one-er.

"And there's one I thing I do know son, and that is you are here for a reason. I don't know whose reason, whatever the reason is, maybe it's because...I don't know what to say. But I do know one thing - it's not to score touchdowns." Just a wonderful articulation of the importance of Clark being raised by Jonathan and Martha.

This film is very much focused on the father-son dynamic, and we see the juxtaposition between Jor-El and Jonathan. They both love their son, but while Jor-El is articulate and erudite (logos), Jonathan is very human and homespun (pathos) - both are important influences to help Kal-El/Clark become Superman, his ethos becoming a mix of the two.

Having fulfilled his first role in the narrative by imparting his wisdom to Clark, Jonathan promptly fulfills his second role in the narrative by dying.

"All those things I can do - all those powers. And I couldn't even save him." Another vital aspect of the Superman myth - he is akin to a god in power, but not in practice. Clark is limited by the frailties of human life, and the knowledge - and acceptance - that he can't save everyone. Is this lesson reinforced or undermined at the end of the film? We'll get there.

"Leaving Home" is another gorgeous piece of music. Williams just did not miss with this score.

“Remember son, always remember” precursor to “Always hold on to Smallville.”

I am a sucker for a grand sweeping camera shot with a swell of music. The film is dedicated to cinematographer Geoffrey Unsworth, truly one of the greats (he won an cinematography Oscar for Cabaret and was director of photography for 2001: A Space Odyssey).

The pace of this first half of the film is languid - even a little slow. This may be a feature of the extended cut which I believe lengthens Clark's finding of the crystal, Martha in the house, and Clark's finding the spot for the Fortress of Solitude. But the Kansas sequence is about the same runtime as the Krypton sequence, as Clark leaves Smallville we're 40 minutes into the film and this is an origin story after all.

We can see all three blankets there in his bag, I respect the continuity (although they must have been buried in a different hole to the green crystal).

The formation of the Fortress of Solitude is a nice mirror to the destruction of Krypton - where the red sun descended on the planet, the ground shaking, the crystal pillars colliding with the structure and crumbling and falling. Here we have blue of Earth's ocean, the waters churning, crystals rising from the waters, pushing the ice together to form a structure.

Having lost his second father, Clark is able to reunite (of sorts) with his first, in one of my favourite parts of the film.

“By now you will have reached your 18th year, as it is measured on earth. By that reckoning, I will have been dead for many thousands of your years.” I assume this means that Krypton is several thousand light years from earth, not that he's literally been dead for that long.

Let’s try to break down this timeline! Jor-El says 12 Earth years pass as he takes Clark to Kypton and back, so let’s say the trip takes 6 years and whatever past-lightspeed Kryptonians are capable of. We start on Earth in 1938, six years later (for the time the credits take us from Earth to Krypton) is 1944 for the trial of Zod and Kal-El leaving Krypton, which means he lands on Earth in 1950. But Clark a toddler not a baby by this time, let’s say 2. Then sixteen years later, Clark is 18 when Jonathan dies and Clark creates the Fortress of Solitude, so let’s say 1966. 12 years pass during Clark’s training, which puts him in Metropolis by 1978 - the year the film was released. It works!

Why does Clark only age 2 years if it takes 6 to get to Earth? Eh, he was in a spaceship bubble, it took longer just go with it.

This is such an memorable sequence, and I really can't think of an equivalent - the passage of 12 years depicted via starscape (achieved by super macro footage of photography processes) back to Krypton, and of course that great speech.

“Who am I?” Arguably, the question all art seeks to answer.

"Even though you have been raised as a human being, you are not one of them. You have great powers, only some of which you have started to discover...Live as one of them, Kal-El, but discover where you strength and your power are needed, always hold in your heart the power and the pride of your special heritage. They can be a great people, Kal-El, they wish to be, they only lack the light to show the way. For this reason above all - their capacity for good - I have sent them you, my only son."

I know this line in particular is singled out for the Christ parallel, that's certainly the vibe of the Superman Returns teaser, but Kal-El was sent to Earth not only to be a saviour, but to be saved. "Their capacity for good" - also means a people that would would - despite his differences - take Clark in and raise him with the ideals Jor-El and Lara valued. Kryptonian yes, but also of Earth, to be a leader by example, not a figure to be worshiped. It's why we see Kryptonians in black and white clothing, but ultimately Superman's costume is red, yellow, and blue - yes the colours of his baby blanket, but also the world of colour - and life - out of the world of death. If Krypton is black (sky), white (land) and red (sun), then Earth is blue (sky), red (land) and sun (yellow).

This is the third major shift in the film (not counting the b&w introduction) at the 48 minute mark - from Kypton, to Kansas, to Metropolis.

This puts Clark at 30 years old when he becomes Superman (Reeve was 26).

Because this is already as long as an age, I'm going to leave it here and post my thoughts on the rest of the film in part 2. But first a word on structure. Arguably we have three acts based on the three major story beats - Krypton, Kansas, and Metropolis. Each has essentially a self-contained narrative, we see the world of Clark's heritage, the world of Clark's upbringing, and finally, the world Clark choose to live in - birth, childhood/adolescence, and manhood.

This is reflected not only in the colour palette of each act (Krypton - black/white, Kansas - earth tones, Metropolis - bright colours) but the dialogue (Krypton - lyrical, Kansas - bucolic, Metropolis - snappy). It's actually quite a feat that the film avoids tonal whiplash bouncing around genres as it does.

Alternatively, we have the film split into two (how I've structured this rewatch) - the backstory /prelude on Krypton and Kansas, and the origin story in Metropolis - we see why Clark becomes Superman, and then how he becomes Superman.

In the further alternative, we have a five act structure - Act I: Krypton, Act II: Kansas/Fortress, Act III: Metropolis/, Act IV: Lois, and Act V: Lex.

[raviliuz]

Music headcanon

Ever wondered what type of music does the Slytherin Quidditch Team like? No? Well I did

Terence Higgs

He loves music. He has a Muggle gramophone (one with that funky tube) and lots of vinyls and one whole wall of his room is covered in posters.

Terry loves Elvis Presley and bands from British Wave. Gramophone always plays in his room no matter what he's doing.

He can also play the bass and learnt how to play piano when he was little but could use some refreshment of that skill.

Marcus Flint

Marcus doesn't really listen to music by himself. He doesn't like wizard-music like The Weird Sisters or Heartthrob and well, in Flint Manor or Hogwarts he can't really own a muggle device.

He mostly listens to music at Higgs so he listens to the same type of music Terence does. Marcus likes The Who the most. And often they would jump around and bop their heads passionately and scream the lyrics from memory.

Marcus used to scream "I hope I die before I get old" part from My Generation louder than the rest. Now he skips it.

Cassius Warrington

He lifes for the music. Cassie listens to punk rock and more noisy type of rock and metal.

But what he likes most are random just-starting small bands. He hates mainstream and did actually stop listening to some bands after they got popular. He says they lost their charm but really he just likes unpopular niche bands.

During the holidays Cassius often goes out to clubs with live music to find new bands.

And of course he can play the drums.

Peregrine Derrick

Perry's favourite band is Green Day. Fav songs are Who Wrote Holden Caulfield? And Panic Song.

And here's the issue, I can clearly see what he would listen to other than Green Day but is all after 90s...

Let's ignore that for a moment

He would also really like Franz Ferdinand. And he knows lyrics to Dear Maria Count Me In and Check yes Juliet by heart.

Also, he vows he hates spanish music but then he gets drunk and not only sings songs like Livin la Vida loca but also knows the whole lyrics.

Lucian Bole

Luke likes more chill music. He likes Frank Sinatra and other jazz artists. He also really enjoys instrumentals. He, compared to the rest of the boys, likes music that calms you down, not gives you energy (or a way to spend your energy).

He hates John Lennon.

And one again, time issue, but he would love The Postal Service.

If he could learn how to play any instrument he would choose a saxophone.

Adrian Pucey

He loves ABBA. Also, because of ABBA he got engaged in Eurovision song contest and watches it every year. His favourite song is Lay all your love on me but he knows and loves them all. He also really likes Michael Jackson.

Ade's music taste is two opposites and nothing in between because other than ABBA and Michael Jackson he likes black gangsta rap from 90s

He sings/raps while taking a shower. Yes, in shared showers in Hogwarts.

Graham Montague

Montague likes his music aggressive and noisy. He listens mostly to metal and screamo. He liked Neil Perry (I mean the screamo band) but then Miles told him the name origin, you know, Death Poets Society's Neil Perry and it hit too close to the home and since then Graham is kinda uncomfortable because he thinks about it while listening to their music.

What he looks out for in music is the ability to use up his energy and rage. If he you know, was a teen now and used spotify, his playlist name would be just like "Rage room music".

Miles Bletchley

He actually likes wizard bands and may (or may not) have hots for Lorcan d'Eath from Heartthrob. It's kind of embarrassing really.

Miles also loves Madonna and Dolly Parton (who doesn't).

Also, he loves musicals and songs from them. He tried so hard to convince the theatre club to perform something but sadly no one else wanted to sing.

Miles adores The Rocky Horror Picture Show, rewatches it every year and knows all the lines.

[shipposttt]

The Ship of the Day: Ballie

Name: Bea x Allie

Ship Name: Ballie

Original content: Wentworth (2013)

Ship info: Wentworth is a tv show set in an Australian woman’s prison. The first episode introduces us to Bea, a hairdresser who has been arrested for the attempted murder of her husband who has been mentally, physically, and sexually abusing her for years. The show follows her navigating her new home in prison and how she makes new friends and her now fractured relationship with her daughter. 

Allie is not introduced into the show until season 4. She is in prison for being a part of a vigilante group who brought justice upon people they thought had escaped justice in court. The vigilante group ‘Red right hand’ was led by Kaz who was somewhat of a surrogate mother to Allie. This complicated things after Bea and Allie meet as Bea and Kaz are seen as enemies at first. Despite this, Bea and Allie still start up a relationship. 

Moments of this relationship are the only times we have seen Bea truly happy since the death of her daughter Debbie at the end of season 1. They navigate what having a relationship in prison looks like as well as dealing with both of their past traumas regarding relationships and intimacy and quickly fall in love. They manage to sneak moments away from everyone else in closets and in their rooms and keep their relationship quiet for the most part until Bea steps down as Top Dog and then they fully embrace their relationship, and we get many moments of seeing them truly happy. 

This however all ends when ex-governor turned prisoner, Joan Ferguson, drugs Allie leading to an almost fatal overdose with Allie on the brink of death. After finding Allie unconscious in the showers where Ferguson leaves her Bea calls for help and Allie is rushed to the hospital. Bea then confronts Ferguson with a screwdriver which Ferguson then uses to stab Bea to death. Bea is unable to be resuscitated and we see Bea take her last breaths just as Allie wakes up from her coma. 

Later on in the show after Bea’s death Allie still refers to her often and even keeps a sketchbook of Bea’s old drawings.

Type of ship: Canon Queer

Bea and Allie’s relationship within this show is portrayed with a lot of love. These characters obviously care about each other a lot and it is one of the first times in the show where we see Bea truly happy and ready to let her walls down. Then when she does Allie almost and dies which ultimately leads to Bea getting stabbed to death. This comes no more than 10 minutes after they make love for the first time. 

The entirety of their relationship has been about building trust with the both of them respecting each other’s boundaries and taking things slow so as not to upset everything. Then once this trust culminates in the consummation of their relationship Allie has close call with death and Bea actually does die. This decision by creators to kill of Bea when she finally gets a true taste of happiness is not only confusing but also hurtful – both to characters and the audience. Whilst there are other queer ships within the show it is just heart breaking for creators to build up these characters and their genuine love and affection for each other only for it to end so drastically and sadly.

Previously I spoke about how Dani’s death in the Haunting of Bly Manor can somewhat be seen to make sense however the same cannot be said for Bea’s death in Wentworth. Bea’s death just seems unnecessary and ruthless and almost like a punch in the gut to true fans of the show. Here there is not hiding the hurtfulness of the bury the gays trope.

Admin 🦈

[imsobadatnicknames2]

Top 5 best videogame soundtracks

(Hey babu <3 )

Kind of a hard choice but I'll do my best lmao

Brütal Legend

Brütal Legend is probably the most blatantly, indulgently, unapologetically pandering game I've played in my life, which I'm not saying as a bad thing bc it happens to be pandering to people with my tastes and, most importantly, happens to do an extremely good job at it. Like it would've been extremely easy for a game like this fall flat on its face and feel all "how do you do fellow metalheads" but luckily it was made by people who have a genuine love for the genre and know their shit, and the soudntrack reflects that. The licensed soundtrack is a great sampler platter of a bunch of different metal subgenres and has a pretty decent mix of mainstream and slightly more obscure bands.

But the original soundtrack composed for the game by Peter McConell is also amazing like holy shit. Like. Way better than you'd expect from the funny haha Jack Black metal game.

Hotline Miami

Literally not much to say, it's the hotline Miami soundtrack. The music is a huge part of the experience and the track selection knocks it out of the park.

APE OUT

I was conflicted on including this because it's less of a soundtrack and more of a game-long procedural jazz drum jam, but it's like. The music makes the whole experience. The way the drums sync up with and respond to the action onscreen is extremely viscerally satisfying and the choice to have the title cards syn up to the music and to have the entire soundtrack be just drums and then have the rest of the instruments come on during the credits are extremely inspired.

Terraria

Idk what to say about this one it's just. An extremely solid soundtrack. Extremely varied, each track kicks ass and sets an extremely unique and distinctive atmosphere for each biome.

Doom (both classic and reboot)

See above about how Brütal Legend is extremely, blatantly, unapologetically indulgent and I love it because it does a good job at it? Yeah.

Fave track from classic Doom:

Fave track from Doom reboot:

Honorable mentions:

Katana Zero: It was a close call between this one and Hotline Miami but ultimately I went for Hotline Miami

Undertale/Deltarune: Objectively it's probably one of the best videogame soundtracks in recent memory, I just haven't spent enough time with the games for it to have a big effect on me

Earthbound/Mother series in general: Same as above. If I had played more of the game I'm sure it'd be on this list no doubt.

The Elder Scrolls III - Morrowind: I legitimately think it's some of Jeremy Soule's best work, and Nerevar Rising is such an iconic melody that it went on to become the main theme of the entire series from that point on. However... It's just not enough music for a game as big as Morrowind, meaning you'll be hearing these tracks over and over and over again. By the time you're halfway through the game it will have lost a lot of magic through sheer repetition. Also the fact that the music system lacks any location detection and instead just plays the same exploration tracks regardless of if you're exploring a city, a peaceful field, or a creepy tomb means that often the soundtrack ends up taking away from the atmosphere of the game.

Any NES Megaman game: Legitimately some of the best music on the NES and one of the best examples of working within system limitations, but sadly I kinda don't like Megaman.

[cabbojage]

Happy Storyteller Saturday!

Today I'll send two questions (which are connected):

Question 1 - Imagine that your characters enter a magic labyrinth that shows them their biggest dream (s) come true. What do they see? Is their dream something they can achieve in real life?

Question 2 - In the same labyrinth, your characters enter a room that puts them face to face with (an illusion of) the person they hate the most or their worst fear. How do they react? Are they able to put up a fight against the illusion or do they need to be rescued? How do they feel in the aftermath of the confrontation?

woah these are sick questions!!! sorry for being so late i just wanted to dedicate lots of effort to give an adequate response :)

first off, the dream labyrinths!

lola's leads to her childhood kitchen table. cluttered in the exact same way that she left it all those years ago. her biggest desire is to simply enjoy a meal with her entire family - her mami, her papá, and her sister, peri - and sit in a comfortable silence, with full stomachs and full hearts. just like how it used to be. what lola wants more than anything is to turn back time and freeze it right at that moment, before everything went wrong. which is sadly impossible.

rowan's big dream is more typical - he sees himself as incredibly wealthy, with centuries upon centuries of time on his watch. he'd live in a lavish apartment in northern sunswick, where the sun never sets, hand in hand with a lover who, this time, doesn't leave - a life where nothing can touch him, nothing can ruin him. it's definitely achievable... but maybe in a different way than he originally thought. maybe home is not just invincibility, but rather a place to store his vulnerability. maybe his dreams will change as the story progresses...

alaric sees himself as owner of a bookstore/coffeeshop. he lives on the ground level of some modest district (probably afterhills) and never has to worry about anyone's expectations or perceptions of him. he wears a forgettable face and people pass him by. for alaric, the best dream is a quiet one where he is invisible - invisible and happy.

cuckoo sees a crowd of people falling to their knees in worship. she sees success upon success and her inventions revolutionizing the city. she sees the regime of the cardinals toppled by empiricism and science. she sees her name on the headlines as a source of respect, instead of a source of mockery.

as for the fear/hate labyrinths...

lola's greatest fear is falling short, disappointing her family. the worst thing that could happen to her is for her to clock out, losing all the time on her watch. her mother and sister already had to deal with the loss of her father - and it would be the ultimate devastation for her to suffer the same fate. so her labyrinth is simply just a room full of clocks that repeatedly strike twelve, over and over... she'd be able to overcome it eventually, though. lola's always been a fighter. but facing that scene as an illusion would definitely leave her rattled afterwards.

for rowan, he'd find himself face to face with quincy, who he had a..... complicated relationship with. haven't introduced quincy yet, but he's going to be a character who was very Close Friends (close friends who kiss occassionaly yk) with rowan until he clocked out. rowan's always been pissed that quincy never told him about his time shortage. as for his greatest fear, it has to be the drug of effervescence. or rather... the effect it has on people (i'll talk more about effervescence in another worldbuilding post). in short - rowan wouldn't be able to deal with all that alone. he'd need someone to drag him away from everything he's been running away from.

alaric sees the cardinals, with his father at the head. he wouldn't be able to move. he'd just stand, paralyzed, as they gush over how talented he is, how they know he was built for greatness, who will you crush under your feet? who will be the first one to taste your cruelty? it'd be too much, alaric would only be able to nod numbly and follow along as they transform him into their weapon.

cuckoo only sees a mirror with her reflection. nothing different. her biggest enemy has always been herself, and she already knew that for a long, long, time. so she hardly spares herself a glance.

& that's it! wow that was a lot. thanks again for the great question it really helped me think about these characters with more depth!!! :D

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

WIP Wednesday

The Muses (temp title)

Summary: none this time, this is the first page (or two) of the first chapter. Enjoy it in all it’s raw un-edited glory.

Tags: original work, LGBTQA+ Fiction, Adventure, Literary

---

There is someone standing in front of his painting.

Smack dab, front and center, doused in the specialized ambient lighting of the Museum gallery, and completely blocking the elegant depiction of Venus grappling at the form of her retreating Adonis. There are over 36,000 paintings and sculptures in the Chicago Institute of Fine Arts on-campus Museum, aka: The Williams Museum, and only one that Min needs in that very moment. His painting. The interruption stalls him completely in his tracks, fumbling for what to do next beyond stand there and wait. Patiently. Impatiently. But quietly, all the same. Pretending he isn’t about to vibrate out of his skin in anxious earnest to get to work on his— 

Okay, so it isn’t his painting. Technically, it is Peter Paul Rubens’, and has been since 1635. But with how much time Min had spent looking at every single brush stroke and color blend on the intricate oil painting, then it might as well have his name on the placard. 

Reserved for: Kim, Min-Su, Graduate Student of Museum Art Restoration and Conservation. 

He bet he could get Amora to make him a sign that looks official. Or at least official enough to grant him access when such a situation comes up like this.

It seems a legitimate feat that this guy is blocking so much of his view. The painting is over seven feet wide and six feet tall, not counting the frame, and yet this spectator hasn’t budged. Long limbs rooted and starched white blonde hair striking such an abysmal contrast to the painting itself the juxtaposition is jarring. Rubens’ painting, delicate figures with such smooth flowing detail it defies reality, tries desperately to be seen around the man’s silhouette. Calling to Min, begging him to find another angle to experience it from. To see the whole story the 17th century painter portrayed within the picture, and Min swallows back a whine of frustration. I’m trying, he thinks to it’s judgmental stare, but this guy clearly isn’t done observing the peice yet.

His own paint set and portable easel grow heavy in Min’s hands the longer he stands there, shifting on his feet by the open archway to the galley. The Baroque masterpiece (suitably) titled Venus and Adonis gets it’s own room in the gallery, with a few mildly interesting pieces lining the rooms surrounding it from the same period. It’s on loan to the collegiate museum from the MET, thanks to one very ambitious proposal from Ms. Amora Maria Ramos (and the best best friend Min-Su could ever ask for), and such an exquisite honor must have it’s own four walls and special lighting. Sadly, this means people tend to linger longer — wanting to give the art it’s due time and appreciation. 

But after the first ten or twelve minutes, Min can feel his very molecules beginning to get antsy.

It’s almost rude, honestly. Min is on a deadline, and he’s so close to finishing his study and final oil pieces for his Midterms and mock thesis proposal that he can practically taste the top marks he’ll receive for his efforts. It tastes like oil and and turpentine between his teeth. Probably from biting his nails, he realizes, as his impatience starts to peak and his restlessness becomes impossible to overcome. Yes, it’s a gorgeous painting, but for the love of God this man needs to move on. 

If he were less polite, Min would just step up next to the man and start to set up his easel and paints. The presence of peer pressure and propriety convincing the man to scoot over and allow someone with an agenda to actually continue their progression. But there’s something about this man that keeps Min at bay ten yards back. He should have nothing to fear, the other man is young(ish) like himself — but without the air of a college student. His stance and demeanor makes him come across as if he should not be disturbed, and Min chews on his lip as he looks around to see if anyone else in the vicinity might be a braver soul than he. Where was Amora when he needed her? She would have no problem approaching a stranger in the gallery, she does it all the time. Part of her curatorial work hours she serves the museum curation department there, working nearly seven days a week for free just to garner as much experience as possible. 

His impatience and nervousness from the whole situation finally breaks when Min looks at his watch to see it has been nearly twenty minutes that he’s been waiting. Twenty. Sharp flares of annoyance bristle at his nerves, giving way to a silent fuming that can’t be contained, and with a stubborn jut of his chin Min finally steps further into the room. But still a good fifteen feet back from the painting. Lays down his tarp, his easel, and begins to mix up his paints. If this man wasn’t going to move — then congratulations to him: he’s going to now be featured as a study in depth and line in Min’s painting that day.

...tbc

[essiekuko]

i’ve loveeedd pinkpantheress since her soundcloud days!! i first started listening to her music in september 2021. i had sm ideas for my ig stories (i was an avid ig poster in the lockdown era lmfaoo), and it was then where i got the idea to post wtv photo i wanted as a video just to put my fav underground songs as the music thru a video editor. all that effort for just instagram like omfg. i never posted any of my little videos using pinkpantheress’ music cause i was never satisfied with my ideas 🥲

the way i found her is like a little funny story. it was from a song mix posted to youtube, and as soon as i heard the first song i instantly fell in love w her sound. it was so refreshing and unique to me, and it was so perfect in the exact style i like!!

i sadly cannot find the original mix video i saw but this one is relatively close as in, i did see it around the same time as the other one, although it’s not the exact one.

the one i saw had kuromi as the thumbnail, and im pretty sure pinkpantheress herself commented on it

also her being partially deaf in the right ear is just like me i’m sobbing omg. i’m not even entirely sure why im deaf in one ear, it could be due to wl or even exposure to loud noise like her

and her look and fashion taste is like mine too!! she’s definitely one of my style icons for sure ♡

gradually over the years i started listening to her less and less, and when that happens with an artist or band i often find myself deleting any songs of theirs i come across when i shuffle my library. its more of her personality i like rather than her music nowadays :3

[dreamywritingdragon]

Rook Questionnaire

An occasion to yap about Ysleen? Consider it done!

Original post here

1: Where in the Thedas is your Rook from?

Ysleen is from Nevarra. At least that's what everyone assumes, since she was found as an infant in the Necropolis, and non-Nevarran don't usually come there to drop their kids. She always assumed her mother was from Nevarra City.

2: What is your character's alignment?

Neutral Good

3: Race and subclass?

Human Mage, deathcaller (necromancy vaccuum ultimate, my beloved)

4: If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found?

She'd be either outside, taking notes about the Fade, or in her room, working on her quilts

5: What emotion did they usually pick?

Diplomatic

6: What companion are you platonically close with?

Neve and Emmrich. Ysleen's first thought when she met Neve was "she's insanely cool, I don't know if I want to be her or be with her!". They flirted a bit before Minrathous was attacked, then Ysleen worked in regaining Neve's trust.

As a fellow necromancer, she likes geeking out with Emmrich about all things death magic, and sharing gossip about other Watchers (don't tell me Emmrich isn't one of the biggest gossips of the team!)

7: Romantically close with?

Lucanis. Same as Neve, she saw him and went "ok. He's insanely cool." Then she got to know him better, and ever little kernel of knowledge made her fall even deeper.

8: Who are they suspicious of?

No-one, sadly. She even gave Solas the benefit of the doubt, at the start.

9: Does your Rook get along with their chosen Faction?

Kinda. She's grateful they didn't let her die when she was an infant, but she's still pissed they decided to make her leave after the War of the Banners. She gave so much to the Watchers (I heacannon there is a Foundling House and that she worked there), it hurt to see politics being placed before family/friends/colleagues.

10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments?

Nope! She never learnt, but enjoys the sound of harp and violin.

11: Weapon of choice?

Staff. Because you can beat ennemies off with it when they get too close.

12: What is their orientation?

Bisexual. She swings left and right, and not only with her staff.

13: What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?

A necessary evil. As Emmrich says, all Watchers must chose where they put the line regarding killing and death. Ysleen will murder you if you touch her friends, no questions asked.

14: What hobbies does your Rook have?

She loves quilting (it's a creative way to use the sewing techniques she learnt on corpses and the blankets make great gifts!) and candle making (she loves playing with scents, and asks for Taash's opinion often)

15: What NPCs do they like? Which one's do they dislike?

Biiig crush on Teia (Ysleen isn't immune against the people who look extremely hot in all circumstances). She doesn't like Staalgard, too blunt for her taste, and was super pissed to have confirmation that Hezenkoss is...like that, because some of her early work was good???

She really likes Mila, who reminds her of the foundlings she took care of.

16: Do they have a favorite creature in the Thedas?

Baby griffon :p Ysleen, Bellara, Lace and Neve are giving Assan aaaaall the snuggles.

And she's always wanted to see a fennec

17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?

Kinda? She likes discovering places over Nevarra, but misses the comfort of home and sleeping in your own bed.

18: What would your Rook be doing if they weren't recruited by Varric?

If she didn't fight in the War of the Banners, she'd continue her work in the foundling house.

Otherwise, she'd travel some more, maybe find a part-time job as a healer, and wait for the Necropolis to call her back

19: How do you think they'll meet their end?

Happy, old, in her bed, surrounded by her family

20: Would they side with Solas or fight him?

Fight him. She ultimately chooses to redeem him, but she reeaaally wanted to punch him as hard as she could

21: What is your Rook's favorite ability?

Fuck it, I cast fireball

22: What languages is your character fluent in?

Nevarran and common, that's it. She had a bit of a reading disability, and never had to learn another language.

23: What do they do after an absolute crisis?

Have a good shouting session about it, then back to business

24: Does your character believe in the afterlife?

Yep! She holds to the belief that the dead enter the Fade and can be reincarnated

25: What specialization best represents your Rook?

Deathcaller

26: What animal best represents your Rook?

A Siberian cat. Fluffy and cuddly, expensive looking (don't trust her, she's a goblin)

27: What was their life like before the events of Veilguard?

Working in the foundling house, she oversaw the accounts (so fun with dyslexia <3) and taught the kids history and basic magic

28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?

She takes up Varric's role from the beggining, in a "somebody's gotta do it!" way

29: If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why?

I wanna say Antivan Crows, but that's because of Lucanis, and she ends up joining them anyway when they marry. Otherwise, with her affinity for magic, she'd be a good Veiljumper

30: What's your favorite thing about your Rook?

Everything? :p She got me back into writing, and I'm super happy about that!