#posting here though I feel bad about not being able to give pose credit

[youvebeengalindafied]

And know I’ll be here holding you…

(This version of the art by me, but full credit to my friend’s posebook creator for like 50% of the placement of these lines. I wish I knew who you were so I could credit you 🥺)

[asleepinawell]

Been having a lot of Thoughts about the nier series recently and the larger themes of both games and wanted to jot them down and toss them into the void of the internet.

Massive spoilers for nier automata follow, including for ending e. Do not read this if you ever intend to play nier automata. There are spoilers for nier replicant as well, though not for ending e.

One of the biggest themes both nier games tackle is the tragedy of an uncaring universe. Bad things happen to good people, people who think they're good and doing the right thing find out they were actually committing atrocities, the very idea that there's 'good' and 'bad' people is dissected and rejected. At the end of the day, the universe doesn't give a shit about any of us and none of it matters. Enjoy your existential despair!

In nier replicant, the main character starts off as an optimistic young boy who wants to save, not only his sister, but the entire world. After the time skip, nier is a young man whose optimism has (partially) been tarnished and whose goal has narrowed down to just saving his sister. As you move through each route you understand more and more how tragic the world is and how, despite your best intentions, you are only adding to the tragedy of the world. The original 4 endings of nier replicant are all tragic in some way. Ending D has a glimmer of hope in it in the form of nier being able to save kainé at the cost of his own existence, but it's a bittersweet ending and the world is ultimately doomed anyway.

Which brings us to nier automata. Even more so than replicant, automata hammers home the meaningless of everything, the uncaring universe, tragedy both avoidable and unavoidable. The main characters are locked in an endless loop of violence and despair. The worst that could happen, does, again and again. It thrives off the type of tragedy porn I usually hate.

Except....

Except it doesn't. If endings a and b are the opening statement, endings c and d are the facts and body of the essay, but then there's ending e, the concluding paragraph which takes everything we've been told and gives you the chance to draw your own conclusion from it.

Route e starts after you've gotten both ending c and d and is no longer about the characters in the game at all. Route e is about you, the player, and what you believe. It says "we've given you a story of complete despair, we've shown you the universe is unfair and doesn't give a fuck about you, we've shown you things that end in tragedy. despite all of this, do you still believe it's worth fighting for the hope of something better?"

And then it asks you to prove it.

Route e is the ending every fan has asked for when they've said "I'll fight the creators to give my favs a happy ending." Today is your lucky day!

Route e is the ending credits of the game, except that the ending credits have turned into a bullet hell mini game. In fighting the actual credits themselves, you are fighting the game devs. You are saying fuck you I don't believe that everything is pointless. Fighting for better is always worth it. The meaning that we imbue in life is important to us and that matters.

The bullet hell of the end credits starts out fairly simple and gets harder and harder as you go, lasting something like 15 minutes total, which is a brutally long time to be playing something that requires split second timing and 100% of your focus. It's meant to feel insurmountable, just like the challenges the characters in the game faced (the larger plot challenges, not the combat). You will likely die a lot and check points are few and far between.

But there's more to it than that. The first time you die, a prompt comes up:

And then when you die again:

Except now, there’s a message on the screen. A message that appears to be from another player, somewhere in the world.

And again:

(this one really fucked me up, but that’s for a different post).

And then finally:

(thank you user MR-YE-1996)

When you accept the rescue offer, you go back to the bullet hell again, but now you have a wall of other players around your weak little avatar, shielding you from harm. The music, which has been a single vocal track up until now, gains an entire chorus of voices to represent the army of actual players who’ve shown up to save you (and there’s a lot I could say about the use of the (exquisitely good) music in the nier games, and especially about the difference in lyrical themes between ashes of dreams and weight of the world). Every time a bullet hits one of the players surrounding you, there’s a message saying that user’s data has been lost. Users from all over the world are sacrificing themselves to help you. It’s a very nice, heart-warming moment that you still don’t understand the full impact of quite yet.

After you beat the credits, you’re rewarded by a final cutscene. The android protagonists have been reconstructed and will receive a second chance at life. The narration at this point talks about how life exists within the spiral of life and death we are all trapped in. One of the two pods talking points out that even though the androids are being given a second chance at life, there’s a possibility that things will go just as poorly once again. And the other pod agrees, but adds: “However, the possibility of a different future also exists.”

And then the scene ends with this quote: “A future is not given to you. It is something you must take for yourself.”

And this is really the final conclusion of the game. There is no inherent meaning in the universe, so the meaning we give our lives is the most meaningful thing. (And the ‘you’ here isn’t necessarily an individual either. It can be, or it can be humanity as a whole, or even one group). And you, the player, thought that it was worth fighting to give these characters a second chance, and other players out there in the world thought it was worth helping you to do so.

It’s such a wonderfully beautiful piece of meta interpretation posing as a game ending, and also a departure from the final conclusion of previous Yoko Taro games. It feels like a much more mature and nuanced interpretation of the world than the ending of replicant was (I won’t comment on the new ending e of replicant just yet since it didn’t come out that long ago). (Also, for the record, I love nier replicant and the characters in it with my entire heart. This post is not bashing it).

But the game has one more surprise in store for you. After the cutscene ends, you’re given one last choice. The game asks if you have any interest in helping other players the way you were helped. And if you say yes, you’re told that the only way you can do this is to sacrifice all your save data.

I think that sacrifice hits differently for different people. Some people genuinely won’t mind that at all. As someone who probably still has save data from games I played 20 years ago, it felt like a gut punch. To me, save data represents all the time and emotion and energy I’ve put into a game. Games are so deeply important to me in so many ways and have been since my childhood when they were one of the few ways I could escape from a lot of terrible shit going on in my life. (There’s a reason my blog title is what it is). I could talk a lot more about that point, but I’ll leave it by saying that when I saw what the game was asking of me it felt like someone had knocked my legs out from under me.

For more practical players, it also is locking you out of chapter select, the best way to go back and get all the things you missed and grab the achievements/trophies you still need.

The game will point out that you’ll get nothing in return for this (not a lie, there’s no secret reward), that you will likely never know if or who you helped, that you won’t be thanked, that the person you help could be someone you intensely dislike, etc. And with all of this comes the realization that all those people who came to help you in the credits had already done this. Those people whose data was sacrificed to help you get to the final cutscene had already sacrificed their save data to help you.

We’ve now gone from a world where everything is meaningless, to a world where other real actual human beings out there have sacrificed something that represented hours of their time and a varying amount of emotional investment without any hope of reward to help a stranger see a message of hope.

When I was younger, I was more drawn to dark, hopeless stories. Stories about how dark and meaningless the world was. The world was a terrible place then too. 9/11 happened when I was in highschool (an incident that influenced yoko taro’s creation of nier replicant and had a huge impact on me at the time), the pointless wars that happened after and the recession and a million other things seemed to infuse everything with hopelessness. In that world, stories about everything being meaningless and hopeless felt correct. They felt validating. Yes, everything really does suck that much!

That sort of story lost its appeal for me later on. Pointless and horrible things continued to happen, and still continue to happen. The world events of the last few years have been an unnerving reliving of those earlier years, except even worse. The cycles of tragedy are still there with no end in sight. I’m exhausted from all of it. It really does feel hopeless a lot.

But stories that stop at that point no longer appeal to me. Stories like nier automata--stories that say yes, things are terrible, but there’s always hope, you can create your own meaning, it is always worth it to fight for better even if you fail, your life is worthwhile simply for existing--those stories are the ones I think we all need more than anything.

[bonniebird]

Assassins and Crooks

Sara Lance x Reader / Leonard Snart x Reader

Requested by Anon

“What’re you guys doing?” You asked as you finally found Sara and Snart. Mick had grunted and pointed in their general direction which had been more helpful than Gideon confirming they were still on the ship.

“I’m kicking Snart’s ass at cards.” Sara answered. Leonard rolled his eyes and tutted with a smirk.

“Are you sure? He doesn’t look like he’s losing.” You pointed out to her.

“You think I can’t win at cards?” “Sure you can, it just doesn’t look like he’s losing.” You said as you hopped down the steps, pointing to Snart who smirked as you sat near the bottom of the metal staircase. “He’s smiling too much. He’s bluffing or you’re going to lose.”

“Thank you for the advice.” Sara exclaimed playfully. She watched you lean over and sneak a look at Snart’s cards, he let you by tilting them and shot a look at Sara.

Sara placed a card down and you grabbed at one of his cards, setting it down. She objected and laughed when you defended yourself, leaning against the wall next to Snart as he let you take the round. He’d already counted the cards and knew exactly what was in Sara’s hand. There was no way he’d win but by some miracle she managed to lose.

“Well (Y/N) you must be a brilliant card play. Perhaps we should take you to a casino.” He smiled when you stuck your tongue out at Sara and laughed as she complained about you cheating.

“I’ve got to go and help Rip, he needs to move the ship so it might get bumpy.” You said after a few minutes, remembering why you’d come to find them.

“He needs you to help move the ship?” Snart asked quickly. There was a curious cut to his tone but he didn’t look up from the new hand Sara delt him.

“He needs me and Kendra to get ready for the next mission out. I’ve got to pretend to be some celebrity and Mick gets to be my bodyguard. Kendra’s acting as my girlfriend. It sounds fun. It’s been so long since I've gotten out of here.” With an excited smile you rushed off. Ever the bubbly bundle of energy.

“(Y/N) and Kendra.” Leonard said thoughtfully.

“You worried she’ll fall in love?” Sara teased.

“I showed her how to clean my cold gun last week and yesterday I let her call me Lenny. We’re practically married.” Snart quipped. He almost purred as he spoke.

“Oh! You showed her your cold gun huh? How’d she like that?” Sara asked with a teasing jeer.

“Imature Sara. Besides she broke it. I still haven’t figured out how. I had to employ Raymond and the professor to fix it.”

“That’s (Y/N) for you. I’m pretty sure i’m the only reason she’s alive.” Sara said smugly, she glanced quickly at the way you excited and smile.

“Just because you’re smitten with her doesn’t mean you can take the credit for keeping her alive. Besides i’ve done my fair share looking after her.”

“I taught her self defense.”

“Pickpocketing.”

“How to escape a choke hold.”

“How to calm Mick down.” There was a long pause after Snart spoke. That last one was impressive. Mick had been getting antsy. He’d been on bed rest since the last mission you went on with him. Having been in a timeline with real homemade pancakes you took the chance to indulge. Mick stole them when you tried to find some syrup and ate the whole plateful. Having to leave before you could reorder you irritably followed Sara outside. Deciding to get the anger out you tossed a nearby brick off the porch of the restaurant, that was being renovated. The brick slammed into the end of a four by four post which missed you, due to Sara’s quick intervention and narrowly missed Snart and Ray because Snart yanked them out of the way. It did however twirl impressively through the air and hit Mick right between the eyes.

Rip and Jax watched in stunned horror as Mick fell backwards, stiff as a board, and fell on his back.

Kendra was convinced he wouldn’t pull through after Gideon struggled to fix him up. Jax was utterly impressed while you were mortified that you’d conked Mick on the head and took the time to hide from Leonard until Mick came round and the tight set in his jaw relaxed.

Sara and Snart had agreed that there were both amusingly impressed with the hit.

“Still can’t believe she managed to take Mick out like that.” Sara commented with a smile. They both glanced up when you ran back to their stairwell and skidded to a halt.

“Rip needs you Sara and Mick wants to set Gideon on fire… he will not calm down!” You explained quickly. Sara smiled and quickly hopped to her feet abandoning the cards.

“I’m more than happy to help.” Sara insisted.

“Like you could help when it comes to Mick.” Snart said as he gathered the cards, sorting them as he followed after you and Sara. He didn’t miss the quick smirk Sara gave him over her shoulder when you hugged her and dragged her off to find Ray.

*****************

“Alright, you two are clear on what we need?” Rip asked over the coms as you and Snart walked away from the party you’d crashed. Snarts arm was around your waist as the two of you walked in step.

“We have to convince them that we’re an engaged couple and play along until they invite us to their creepy party.” Snart muttered. He could feel the two men that were following the two of you. They’d been guarding the doors at the elaborate party. Now they seemed to be following at a distance, pausing every now and then, but never getting too far behind.

 “You need to be sure they’re still following you, they need to see the two of you.”

“We know Rip. Besides we’re being watched.” You answered quickly, pretending to talk to Leonard who looked at you curiously. He knew that you were being followed. He didn’t expect you to pick up on it. “I’ve got that funny feeling.”

At this Snart gave you an impressed glance. It took practise to be able to tell where the feeling of being watched came from and it was more than clear that you too, had spotted your tail.

“I’ve set you up with a small apartment, it’s public enough that it’ll be easy for them to watch you. At most it should take a week. I’ll check in every morning.” Sara explained quickly over the coms.

“A week!” You complained. There hadn’t been an exact timeline of the mission. Though you figured that was Rip’s attempt to get you and Snart to go along with it.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be right there if anything goes wrong.” Sara continued.

“We know we don’t need to worry. We’ve got this. Besides I know how to make a getaway when needed.” Snart said quickly.

“Did anyone else get a weird vibe from them?” Jax asked Kendra and Ray who were frowning at how irritable Sara looked. There had been some bickering as the team prepared for the mission and between Sara and Snart you hadn't spent a second alone since you’d fetched them earlier that morning.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just the stress of the job?” Ray offered cheerfully.

“More like they can’t admit they like (Y/N) and she’s not realised that she had an assassin and a career criminal fighting over her.” Kendra said.

“Um… guys… we can hear you on the coms.” You said with a mortified whispyness to your voice. Kendra froze while Ray and Jax looked over at the rest of the team. Sara was blushing and glaring at the screen in front of her. Martin had his head in his hands while Rip looked mortified and un amused.

“Our bad.” Jax muttered.

No one said anything for a while until you’d dug in the bag you had and found the keys Sara had slipped into them at the party. “How exactly are we supposed to play pretend to be engaged? Rip you didn’t give us anything to do.” You asked, breaking the silence.

“Well… in this time period a socialite such as the ones you are impersonating wouldn’t work so much as atted or hold parties and invest in business ventures.” Rip explained, you could hear him moving around the center screen. “Unfortunately it’ll be expected of you to entertain while Snart strikes the deals. But if this works we could get the in we need to get the final artifact.”

At the mention of the elusive artifact, Snart stiffened. He and Mick had been sent in the last time it had popped up and it took the whole team to extract them, choosing them over the artifact. Rip still wouldn’t explain its importance which was a sore subject for the team.

“Well that doesn’t sound too hard.” You mumbled as Snart led you up the stairs to the front door.

“We’ll keep in touch, Martin is going to pose as a rival investor in hopes of getting you some back up if you need it.” Rip explained quickly.

As Snart led you into the house he bumped into you, chuckling as he apologised. You didn’t notice that he’d managed to sneak your coms from your ear. “Got it captain.” He muttered.

*********************

The next morning came by quickly. Sara was early in her check in. She found the time to check out the area several times, no one seemed to notice her but she didn’t mind that. Except for Snart. He’d noticed her sneaking around and was waiting at the back door.

When she arrived he leant against the wall ignoring her until she knocked. “You’re here early.” He mused.

“Well neither of your coms are on and I needed to be sure I wouldn’t be spotted.” Sara said. She paused when she realised Snart was wearing a robe, you still hadn’t appeared which was odd because you usually burst into a room at the sound of her voice. “Where’s (Y/N)?”

“She’s tired out after our evening together and I decided not to wake her.”

“You want me to believe that she hooked up with you last night?”

“If that’s what you want to believe then that’s up to you.”

“You two are really ridiculous.” You murmured sleepily. They both turned to look at you. They were both surprised you’d managed to sneak down to the back room without being hard.

“Perhaps if you let us know which you would prefer, Sara and I could come to an amicable agreement.” Snart drawled as he leant against the wall.

“Well don’t you two have a thing for each other?” You asked, gesturing to them both. They shared a look and Sara cleared her throat.

“We might have done, before…”

“Before I accidently nearly killed Mick over a plate of pancakes?” You asked and they shared a look before nodding. “If I figure this out you’ve got to stop competing and being weird.”

Neither of them answered as you approached them. You fixed Snart with a hard look first, his eyebrows raised as he smirked at you attempt at sternness. Then you turned your attention to Sara. Her eyes went wide as you kissed her. Pulling away you turned back to Snart and kissed him too before turning and leaving the room.

“Was that an option?” Sara asked, feeling a little frazzled.

“It is now. You going to come up?” Snart said as he looked from her to the steps that led to the rest of the house with a satisfied smirk spread over his face.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Wet Sugar” [Part 21 of 30]

Summary: Erik has doubts about what he has done...

Mature Audience. NSFW. 

"Gotta be careful, I know, I know You and me can't be nothing no more I've been lookin' for something from you I've been gettin' nothing at all You're such a fuckin' woman (woman) But deserves the fuckin' world, yeah…"

Lucky Daye—"Love You Too Much"

The saltwater in the pool soaked Erik's sunburned skin as he floated on his back. He would've preferred to swim at the cove, but going there was all her. Too much her.

That woman he tried to ignore became a specter before his eyes. He would catch glimpses of her around the compound, but she was like a rumor whispered in hushed tones. They were able to work around each other, but sometimes he caught her lingering above the gun range when he was there firing the new weapons with the other mercs. He acted like he didn't see her in the distance when she did that, or when he caught her slipping out of the kitchen when they all came to eat. He felt her eyes on him even when he couldn't directly see her.

He did the same, often hanging back after meals, sipping on dinner espresso and waiting to hear the side kitchen door open with her bounding in to help Leona clear away dishes and leftovers. Or he would stay out by the pool for a long time and catch the sound of leaves rustling as she snuck down to the cove using the secret path no one else knew about. She would sometimes cuss at Jerome while heading there and he would stifle a laugh while thinking about the first time he heard her talking to the iguana. The sound of her voice still thrilled him. It was the girlish softness of it mixed with the smart-ass personality behind it that still made him excited about her.

He dreamed about her. And Sydette.

Those night visions were often a replay of the earlier days of them alone at the compound. He'd wake up suddenly in the middle of the night clutching at his side hoping she was there. When he heard movement from Linda in the room next to his, he would pretend it was Sweet Pea sneaking out of her bed to crawl between him and Yani.

He knew from jump Yani despised Linda.

But that was to be expected because Linda tended to rub people the wrong way and of course...he had fucked the woman. Linda could be condescending to people that she felt were inferior to her. She treated a lot of the other mercs that way and they couldn't say shit because her skills were so tight and she proved it to be true time and time again. She never tried it with him. His game was tighter than hers and she respected that.

He never saw Yani act funky in front of Linda personally, but Linda often commented on how Leona was very nice to her, but Yani was just direct and spoke very little.

"She's efficient and like a damn ninja around here…but I can't get more than two words out of her when I ask her for stuff. It's like I'm bothering her own personal things. She acts like Klaue's house is her house. I had my feet on the coffee table and she walked past me with the laundry sucking her teeth."

Erik knew the reason why Yani was acting that way. It wasn't because of no feet on the furniture.

Klaue moved Linda into his house and her bedroom was next to Erik's. She was sleeping in Sweet Pea's old room. She was sleeping too close to him.

Yani wasn't the only one feeling irritated by new interactions.

He was feeling a way about her and Zachary.

Erik still lurked on her social media to see how she was doing. At first, it was to keep tabs on Sweet Pea from afar, and he could also see what Yani had to say about her classes. She was acing school like he knew she would, but it was the posts about her social life that had him uptight.

As expected, Zachary pounced on her, and Yani seemed open to the rekindling of some type of relationship because Erik saw pictures of them together at clubs and group gatherings. Yani had big smiles on her face when she posed with Zachary, and apparently, they took a trip to Jamaica together for a concert Kendall performed at. He saw pictures of them posing in front of a waterfall together in swimsuits holding hands while facing one another. Yani's eyes were closed and the grin on her face told him that they had either kissed before the picture was snapped, or they were about to kiss.

He couldn't even be all that mad on a certain level if he were honest with himself. He would've done the same thing. If he'd lost a bad bitch being stupid, he wouldn't waste time snatching her back up.

She looked happy in that picture. Zachary looked…enamored with her. Erik wondered if she was sleeping with him. Getting new dick to forget the old dick. Erik scoffed a bit while staring at them. Ain't no way Zachary could handle what Yani had. Fire pussy needed bomb ass dick. That was the only thing that kept Erik from going off seeing her with someone else that soon.

What nigga could compare to him with her?

He used to make that bitch's pussy jump when he called her on the phone. He could snap his fingers and have her pulling open her slit for him whenever he wanted it, had her cumming and crying and begging him not to stop until she couldn't hold onto him anymore. Made Yani sit anywhere he wanted—indoors or outdoors-with her legs wide open while he watched her slam a thick blue dildo in her pussy just to amuse him before he picked her up and stretched her walls out all night. He made her cum in her sleep with just the thought of him fucking her. She would lay in bed next to him having multiple orgasms that woke her ass up and made her beg him to fuck her wide awake. What could that civilian do for her?

She looked good though. Damn good. She had lost some weight from running around again, but shit was looking hella tight.

Shit.

Thinking about her in that picture made Erik want to fuck.

He climbed out of the pool and took himself a long shower. Afterward, he drove himself to a barbershop in Havensight and had his locs cut off and his beard trimmed and groomed. He needed the change. His mother had done it often when she needed a fresh start. At least two times in his life with her he had witnessed his mother shaving off her hair. Shedding old energy to welcome the new.

He felt a few eyes on him in the shop. Maybe they recognized him from being with Yani.

Before meeting up with Linda and Klaue in the main house he shot off a few emails to his grandfather and his Uncle. He also loaded more money onto Yani's credit card. She didn't use it all that much anymore, probably because she didn't want him tracking her purchases, but more than likely not wanting to stay connected to him. No matter what happened between them, he wanted her to have some sort of back-up support if she ever needed it. If not for herself, then for Sydette at least.

Strolling into the main house, both Klaue and Linda gave him a double-take when they saw his hair.

On the viewscreen in the living room, Erik posted up a picture of the C.I.A. agent that he was tracking for Klaue. The man had a mousy face and the strait-laced look of one who believed in toppling other governments in service of making America great again. A weak-looking yes man by the name of Everett K. Ross.

"U.S. Air Force. Decent pilot. Currently the Deputy Task Force Commander of the Joint Counterterrorism Center. He reports to the Secretary of State. That good ole boy, Thaddeus Ross."

"He's taking nibbles from me. I've been dropping hints at wanting to sell vibranium," Klaue said, "the U.S. wants their hands on all they can find. But he's a bit skittish right now."

"No one likes to look like they're in bed with mercs and terrorists," Linda said.

"The U.S. fucks with them all. They must be under scrutiny," Erik said.

"Any sales aren't going to be done in the U.S. The Great Satan needs to come where I say," Klaue barked.

"Nowhere in Europe," Erik said.

"Definitely not Africa," Linda added.

"What a wimpy looking oaf," Klaue surmised.

"That's what makes him effective. A milquetoast-looking face can get away with anything anywhere," Erik concluded.

"Well, the moment you find me a chunk of the good stuff I'll set up the sale," Klaue said.

The three of them sat around drinking until dinner. There was to be no meal at the house that night. Klaue took everyone out to a restaurant on the Northside of the island. The food was exceptional and Erik didn't get into any arguments with Neal or Huntsman. Surprising. There were great bars to crawl around and when Shipley let them toke on some blended weed, Erik felt pretty mellow. He actually wanted to hang out a bit.

Klaue caught a cab back to the compound but the rest of their crew stuck together. Linda was really floating, acting like the Snow White to their ragtag team of six non-Dwarfs. Shipley was trying to run game down on her, but Linda wasn't interested. She put up a front of being all business. But not with him.

He kept it friendly between them. Even when she sunbathed topless on the porch of Klaue's house, he treated her like his colleague.

It wasn't easy at times.

When his sexual urges came on strong, he was tempted to seek her out in her bed, but he didn't want the headache of Neal or Shipley. They were both jockeying for some play and there was nothing worse than working with hard-up men and the tension that jealousy brought.

Linda would give him looks sometimes and he hoped that no one else caught on.

Some really hard-sounding island music caught their attention and they stumbled upon a boisterous club that excited Linda. Shipley got into the spirit and they were all sucked into the space ordering drinks and watching the spectacle of winding hot bodies and good sounds. Linda grabbed Shipley's hand and dragged him out among the crowd. The place was a lot bigger inside than it looked outside and there was an actual stage on one side with a D.J. spinning tunes with a massive sound system. No wonder they could hear it blocks away.

Erik found a honey with loose hips and he followed her out onto the floor. Neal sprang for drinks and by the time it turned midnight, Erik had a good sweat and copped a few feels on some Grade A ass that seemed to come from an endless supply throughout the space. He found another shorty that made his temperature rise, and he was getting her number when she and a few other women swarmed the stage. The music was thumping and there were a few eager men on stage where a solitary chair sat in front of them.

Erik bought himself some Henny and walked closer to the stage with Neal and Shipley in tow.

"What's happening?"

Huntsman eased up beside them, his voice loud over the music.

"I don't know," Erik said.

"I think they are about to…ah yeah…we about to see some rump-shaking," Neal said.

A man with a chiseled chest poking out of his half-unbuttoned shirt sat on the chair as an MC talked to the crowd.

"What's the point of this?" Huntsman said.

"Watch and see," Neal said.

Erik sipped on his drink.

The music got a little buck and several women, even the one Erik was trying to mess with climbed on stage and took turns dancing with frenzied athleticism on the lap of the man who sat in the chair.

"Man…I couldn't do it!" Neal squealed.

Linda found her way over to them. Her face was flushed from dancing and drinking.

"Poor guy!" she said.

"Be right back, gonna refresh my drink."

Erik left them and headed to the bar. He could see the different women trying to out-dance one another, and by the time his new drink finally got to him, a new dude was in the chair getting his junk pummeled.

"Shit," Erik whispered.

These women were not playing. He grinned when he saw Linda reach up to the MC and he helped her on stage to take her turn at grinding on a stranger. She stood out with her light gray booty shorts and half top. Kicking off her sandals, she made the man sit on the floor of the stage as she did the splits and pounded her groin on him. Her wild cascade of curls covered part of her face. The audience went into a frenzy and Erik could hear Shipley and Neal cheering her on.

"Did y'all dare her to get up there?" Erik asked when he returned to his entourage.

"Nope. She said they needed an expert up there," Shipley said.

The woman could move, and she played to the audience while she awaited her chance to dance on the next guy in the chair.

"This gyal is on fiyah!" the MC shouted.

Linda wiggled her hips fast, throwing her cheeks in a wild circle. She dropped down and grabbed her ankles letting the audience watch her cheeks move.

"She too much, man…too much!" Shipley shouted.

"Goodness gracious," Neal said.

Erik looked around the stage to see who he was talking about, but then he saw Twyla moving near the front.

"Twyla!" Erik shouted.

"You know her?" Neal asked.

Twyla looked his way. She saw who was calling her and she smiled.

"Big nigga. Where yuh hair go?"

Twyla's hand rubbed his head.

"God damn…she thicker than a pot of grits," Neal barked looking toward the stage again.

"That girl is small—" Shipley answered.

"Not that one…her. Oh my damn. That's…shit. That's Klaue's girl," Neal said.

Erik saw Yani staring at the stage. He recognized a couple of her friends with her that saw him fuck her in a club.

"Don't be scared to say hello," Twyla said.

Her eyes regarded Erik's face.

"Yuh can't hide back here."

"I'm not hiding—"

"Lookin' like yuh back at Juvay," Twyla teased.

One of Yani's friends jumped on stage and stood next to Linda.

"How is she?"

His eyes were sheepish looking at Twyla.

"She's as good as can be expected from a bad break up. Doing well in school—"

"Sydette?"

"A busy body. And you?"

Erik shrugged.

"Still hurts, yeah?" she said.

He didn't answer.

"I see it on your face. Hers too."

Twyla glanced back at her cousin.

"She say yuh leaving the island."

"Yeah."

His eyes were focused on Yani.

"Big man…if there are things yuh still need to say to her, best tell her before yuh bounce. End it the right way with she, yeah?"

He decided to suck it up. Test the waters.

He sipped on his drink again as he walked over to her.

"Yani."

She turned to look at him and he realized it was a mistake. He should've kept his ass in the back and ignored her.

"Killmonger."

Damn.

He got goosebumps hearing his name on her lips despite the coldness. Her eyes took in his new appearance and he couldn't tell if she liked it or not. Indifference settled around her toward him.

The crowd surged and she turned back to watch her friend on stage. He stood behind her and could only concur with Neal's words. Lil Mama was thick as fuck, and the tight black pants she wore did not hide a damn thing. His body yearned for hers. He stepped closer, close enough to feel her body heat. He wanted to kiss the back of her neck and trace his tongue around her tattoos again. Erik had to fight his own hands to keep them from circling her waist and pulling her back toward him. As far as she was concerned, he wasn't even there.

"She doin' too much."

He heard one of Yani's friends talk about Linda.

"She gwine break his dick if she keep that up!" Another one cackled.

Yani giggled and covered her mouth.

Erik's eyes swept back up to the stage. Linda was living it up in the spotlight, and she was getting plenty of rousing support from a lot of men and women.

The current man in the seat had a serious expression on his face, like all that ass pounding his dick from different women wasn't affecting him in any way. Stoneface.

"Go up there, Yani."

She shook her head as her friends cat-called her name.

The D.J. changed the song to a track that had been remixed to death over the years. But it revived the crowd and the women on stage. Linda received some more cheers when she had another turn at bat, and for the first time, Stoneface reacted a little bit. The audience laughed and the MC teased the man about losing his cool.

Yani and her friends walked away and Erik felt himself actually deflate a bit. Yani straight ignored his ass. He watched the lights of the club hit the bronze of her top with them titties sitting, her platinum fade lined up tight, and that ass just being totally disrespectful in public.

He felt absolutely proud to see her not giving a fuck about him.

Gulping down the last of his Henny, he saw the MC bend down to the crowd trying to catch Yani's attention. She stopped with the rest of her homegirls to listen to him. Her hands flew up waving him off, but her friends nudged her arm. She put a hand on her waist and said something to the MC, and Twyla sauntered over pushing her up toward the steps leading upstage.

Fuck.

She went up the steps and once the full lights hit her, Erik had to stop and take inventory of what he had once. That used to be his woman, but there was something different about her that was turning him on in a way that made him feel out of control.

Linda saw Yani approach the chair and the look on her face told Erik that she was in a bit of shock recognizing the woman who cleaned her room and cooked her food.

The MC let Linda and a couple of other women do their booty shakes again, but then Yani stepped over the man, spread her legs wide and did the slowest drop down onto his lap that put the audience in a tizzy. Unlike the other women who moved with hyped up energy, Yani slowed it all the way down until her cheeks were popping in a way that had the man's legs jerking.

Erik felt his jaw get tight when Yani turned her head to look back at everyone as she let each ass cheek bounce in syncopated rhythm. She rolled her hips and the MC, along with several other people on stage started laughing hard and slapping arms. The MC started jumping up and down and pointing.

"Lawd -a-mercy! She done made this nigga buss in his pants!"

Yani lifted up and stepped away from the man with his eyes glazed over and his left hand grabbing at his protruding erection. Eyes watched Yani sashay away, and even Linda gave a painful-looking laugh as her eyes watched Yani leave.

"She dangerous. That gyal dangerous!" The MC shouted.

Yani's friends laughed with her as the entered back into the fray of bodies swaying to the music. A few men tried to get Yani's attention, but she was focused on her friends.

A song they used to listen to at the house came on and Erik took long strides to get to her.

"Come dance with me," he said touching her hand.

She pulled back from him as if he stung her.

"I don't want to dance with you."

Her friends surrounded him and their eyes were ready to cut him in two.

"It's just a dance, cuz," Twyla said nudging her cousin's arm as she walked past heading to the floor herself along with other people. The lap dance show was over.

Yani shoved past him and her friends followed.

Bet.

He headed back to the bar and ordered a couple of shots. Shipley joined him and they drank and talked, watching people dance on the floor. Erik tracked Yani's movement as she danced with different men.

"Can't believe that's the same chick at the compound," Shipley said.

"Yep," Erik answered.

They watched Neal approach Yani and she wasted no time sending him on his way. The way her friends swooped in to protect her, Neal had no chance of harassing her further.

"Whew, I gotta slow down," Linda said.

She plopped down on a stool next Erik and asked for water from the bartender. Twyla walked past him and gave him a look. Erik shrugged his shoulders at her and Twyla rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Had no idea Yani was a regular Cinderella," Linda said.

"She fine," Shipley said.

Erik found that surprising since he never showed interest in women built like Yani before.

"Thought you didn't like thick bitches," Erik said.

Linda eyed Shipley with amusement.

"She could be the exception," Shipley said gulping down a shot of tequila with lime.

"He'll fight you for that," Neal said.

Erik watched Neal grab a beer from the bar.

"What?" Shipley said.

Erik felt his face harden.

"That's Killmonger's pussy."

"Shut the fuck up," Erik snarled.

"You're fucking the help?" Linda asked.

She tossed her head back and laughed at him.

Erik stepped off the stool he sat on and left the bar in a huff.

"Killmonger…hey….hold on…."

Linda followed him and tugged on his arm.

"Hey…we're just drinking and pulling your chain. Calm down."

She steered him to the dancefloor.

"Relax. Loosen up."

Linda swayed in front of him and tried moving his arms. His eyes darted about looking for Yani again, but he had lost track of her.

"How can you not dance to this?"

Linda moved around him, bumped her hip into his and he eventually gave in and danced a little.

"Oh, come on now. You're better than this. We fucked it up in Jo'burg. You remember that club with the roof that was caving in!"

Erik smiled. He remembered. The music was hot, fast, and so were the club patrons. That was a good night. Right before the raid…

"…fucking her?"

Erik missed what Linda said. The confusion in his eyes made her repeat the question.

"Is it true? You and Yani?"

"Nah. Neal had been bothering her and I put a stop to it."

"He is aggressive. Nasty piece of work."

His eyes flicked around. Searching still.

"You want to fuck her?"

His eyes glared at her like she was insane.

"It's just a question. She watches you all the time—"

"I barely have time to—"

"I'm just telling you…I think she has a thing for you. I hear her cleaning your room and she stays in there for a long time. You are a neat freak, so there's no reason for her to be in there so long."

Yani in his room lingering?

"I catch her watching you at the gun range…"

Erik dismissed Linda's words when he felt his cell vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out.

A text from Twyla.

Yani is alone in her apartment this weekend. Chez has Sydette. Roommate gone too. Chance to talk?

Erik stopped dancing.

Unger ran up and grabbed Linda's hand to dance.

"I'ma head back to the compound," he said.

Linda nodded her head.

"I'll catch a cab."

"I'll let the others know."

He watched her and Unger head further into the crowd on the floor.

###

Looking around his room, Erik tried to see what Yani would see.

A clean room. Sterile almost without her there anymore. Two boxes of condoms on the dresser. One empty and the other half used. She would probably think he had been with Linda. He hadn't. But he was seeing women outside the compound again. He couldn't help it. It kept his mind off of her.

But seeing her that night brought up all the things festering in his mind about her. Was she okay? Was Sydette fine? Did Yani hate him? How would she react if she saw him in public?

If Linda was able to glean Yani's feelings for him around the compound, maybe she still had a soft spot for him. Maybe he could…

No.

It was stupid to think of going to her. Even with Twyla's encouragement. He hopped into his bed fully nude. No one was at the compound. The secret tracker he placed in Klaue's arm told him the man was on the other side of the island. Inside a hotel. Probably with a woman.

Staring up at the ceiling, his mind settled on Yani again. Seeing her wind her body on that man onstage made him groan as he felt on his dick.

He reached for his cell again and read Twyla's text two more times.

It wasn't worth it.

What could he say to her? I'm checking to see if you've been able to salvage your life after I blew it up?

But damn…

She was so beautiful on stage. Her whole demeanor was just…sexy…bold. She used to make him cum in his pants all the time. Maybe she did that because she knew he was there watching.

He slammed his fists on his bed.

He wasn't going to get any sleep. He would think about her all night.

He reached into his nightstand and pulled out some weed. He smoked a bit and felt his muscles ease up from the tension he carried in them after seeing her.

Killmonger.

His name on her lips sounded so dead to him. There was no malice in her eyes, but they seemed clouded like she was really and truly over him.

That's what he wanted, right? He told her to focus on school and to forget him. But faced with it, faced with true indifference…he didn't want her to forget him.

Taking a long drag he thought of Linda and what she told him. She noticed Yani keeping her eyes on him. She had to still feel something. Lingering in his bedroom had to mean something. Too many good memories in the place. All the things they did to one another. All the time they slept together in a pile with Sydette between them.

Twyla was right. He had to have a final conversation with her that didn't come from a place of anger, but one of love. They still had to part, but he wanted it to be on better terms. He did have things he wanted to say to her. Secret things. Maybe even promise her something that he didn't think he had a right to.

Stubbing out the joint in an ashtray, Erik jumped out of bed and put on some loose sweatpants and shirt.

He borrowed one of Klaue's smaller cars, a blue Beemer with a moon roof.

He let air flow through from the roof of the car as he drove to Yani's place. Every few minutes he thought about turning around, but once he pulled into the parking lot of her small complex, he was fully committed to talking with her.

After a bit of deep breathing in the car, Erik walked up the stairs and tried to find the right words to say. Once he was in front of her door on the far end of the floor, he felt a bit calmer, less afraid. He debated about texting or calling her. It was too late. He was already there and high as fuck…

He pressed his ear to her door.

Noise.

Talking.

No…not talking.

Moaning.

Shit.

"Yes, Baby!"

The seductive mewling in her voice raised his blood pressure.

She was fucking someone.

Zachary.

Erik removed his ear from the door. His hands pressed against the door frame and he closed his eyes. His body burned with rage. That little punk bitch.

He heard a loud male groan erupt from behind the door.

Erik clenched his fists.

The weed had him spinning scenarios. Bust the fucking door down and drag her off that nigga's dick. Or wait for Zachary to leave and pound on the door and…and do what?

Yell at her for getting dick when he had empty boxes of condoms in his room that she saw? Two days prior he was guts deep in some bitch with big ass titties making her holler out his name. Nutted all in that woman's face and didn't even think about Yani while he did it.

But that's your woman in there. Giving your pussy away.

Erik walked away from the apartment.

Back in the car, he pulled out his cell.

Call her. Break up their little party.

Fuming in the car, he sat there for a long time until he could think straight. The weed still had his mind spinning, but he was able to drive back to the compound and crawl into his bed. The sun was rising when he finally fell asleep.

###

"Hey, lazybones."

Erik blinked his eyes.

Linda looked down at him.

"You were out for a long time. Thought I'd check on you," she said.

Erik sat up.

He was still wearing his sweats.

"What time is it?"

"Two."

"Shit," he said.

"Stay in bed. You looked worn out last night."

Erik leaned against the headboard.

"You want anything to eat?"

"Nah. I'm just gonna chill. I feel tired still."

She touched his forehead.

"Are you feeling sick?"

He shook his head and pulled off his sweatshirt and pants. Crawling under the covers he tucked himself into a ball.

"I'll be up in an hour or so."

"Okay. Call me if you need anything. I have to get some things in town. Klaue is still out."

"Cool."

He pretended to go to sleep and Linda left his side.

When she opened his bedroom door, Yani was using a soft bristle broom to sweep the floor in the hall.

"Don't bother him. He's sleeping in," Linda said.

Erik saw Yani's eyes sweep over Linda's short house dress, and then her eyes caught his on the bed before Linda shut the door.

"Bring him some of that soup around three," Linda said.

"Him sick?"

The lilt in Yani's voice had concern.

"No," Linda said.

"Does he need medicine?"

"No. Just bring him the soup to the kitchen like I asked and he'll be fine."

Erik stayed curled under the covers until he saw from his bedroom viewscreen that Yani had left the house. He jumped in the shower and cleaned up, shaved, and threw on some light cologne. He pulled on some beige loungers and hopped back on the bed.

Exactly in one hour, he saw Yani heading down to Klaue's main house with a covered tray. She entered the space and headed to the kitchen.

He hopped on the intercom.

"Can you bring that here, please? In my room?"

He watched Yani's face look perturbed as she stood in the kitchen. She knew he was watching her.

"Yuh not sick. Get it yourself."

She left the kitchen.

"Bring it here please."

He watched her calculate her next move. Unlike the time when they were together at the compound alone, Klaue had everything watched. If she refused to do her job, Klaue would see it. The bedrooms were pretty secure because Klaue did allow that privacy. He wanted her in his room.

"I have some laundry to be picked up too," he said.

He saw her lip pout and he smiled. Her cell phone rang.

"Yeah?" she answered.

Erik waited. A smile came across her face and she started to giggle into the phone. Flirty-like.

"Mi can't tonight…can't. I'm working…"

She hung up and put her cell in her back pocket. Her smile left her face when she picked up the food tray and carried it to his room. She kicked the door with her foot softly.

He opened it.

"Thanks," he said taking it from her hand.

She turned away.

"Wait, the laundry, my sheets—"

"You do your own cleaning, remember?"

Her eyes were petulant looking up at him.

"Yeah, but um…I'm not feeling great—"

"Linda said you were fine…can I go?"

Mean.

She wasn't with the shits.

Her mind was on giggling over Zachary.

He walked slowly over to his bed and climbed in balancing the tray. She moved over to help him.

"Thanks," he said.

Her eyes took in the room and when they glanced at his dresser, he made sure the condoms were gone. She went to the hamper in his bathroom.

"There's nothing in here," she said, annoyed.

"I need these sheets changed," he said.

"I'll come back then, or you can have Linda change them for you—"

"Yani, wait a minute."

He lifted up too fast and the tray tilted. He spilled some soup on the covers.

"You did that on purpose," she said.

"No, I didn't."

"What do you want, man?"

He hated the sound of her voice at that moment. She didn't want to be around him.

"I miss you," he said.

"I don't think so."

"I do—"

"You got Linda and whoever else…"

Her eyes drifted toward the dresser.

"And you have Zachary."

Her eyes regarded him with suspicion.

"I heard you on your phone."

"You don't know who I was talking to."

"You're not with him?"

She left the room.

Erik jumped off the bed and ran after her.

"Hold up—"

"I don't have time for your shit—"

He grabbed her hand. She snatched it back.

"Clean up your own fucking mess!"

She stormed out of the house and he let her go.

"Whoa. That was…awkward."

Linda walked into the room, coming in through the back door.

Shit.

"So…um…the help…" she said.

Erik stomped back to his room and slammed the door shut.

###

Chp 22 Here

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[theorynexus]

68 will be my second post, this morning. I wonder if it will start section 8 of the Meat Epilogue.

Oh darn it. I forgot to make a Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy/Meaning of Life reference on Meat 42. At least we’re back to a 43, and things might therefore be luckier. Maybe.    (I am very silly when it comes to superstitions regarding numbers, sometimes, even though I don’t really believe them.)

MY TIMING SENSES WERE TINGLING!!!

Hmm. Well, strategy meetings and investigations are important.  (Also:  I am again reminded of the dreadful likelihood that Terezi went with Dirk, which continues to be a disturbing thought.)

Hmm.  For some reason, I have the impression that he does indeed have a vague idea where he’s going, but he may not actually know where/how to find it, yet. That seems pretty likely.  Thus, Roxy would be partially correct. (On that note: Interesting that Jake didn’t actually come with. I thought for sure he’d have snuck aboard at the last moment, or something, as a stow-away.)

Eh, I’d say it goes a little beyond “prove a point,” but it’s also probably incomprehensible to you, right now.  I guess we’ll all have to be patient before we can more thoroughly sort through his insanity in that regard. As for Jane...   I don’t know. It might be more trouble than it’s worth to contact her.  The fact that Dirk has her as a seemingly important part of his plans suggest that it could essentially be springing a trap on yourself. I wonder how she’ll react to finding out that Dirk’s been mind controlling people and that that probably invalidates the actual results of her election, in the sense that it dramatically undermined the democratic process. (That is a really complicated issue that is somewhat entangled with real life politics, though, so I don’t want to get into a deep and proper discussion of what determines electoral legitimacy on a philosophical or political level here.)

It is a very interesting choice on Alt!Calliope’s call to focus on incestuous questions and Dave being awkward, rather than to follow tat important call.

Dirk is so twisted at this point that I’d almost not put it past him, but at the same time, why, Dave, do you have to assume that the motivations are sexual in nature?   (I mean, honestly, it could be the fact that Dirk was trying to force him to have sex with Karkat that gave him the impression that Dirk was [and he is, but maybe not to that extent] way too carnally-minded and motivated.)   Honestly, Dirk’s head is way too concerned with philosophical matters, and if anything he’s probably going to make a clone of himself to have sex with or something stupid like that, if he REALLY has to engage in some sort of tension-releasing copulation that isn’t masturbatory in the way that having sex with someone you’ve brainwashed and twisted into being your personal object of amusement is.   Therefore, I juuust can’t quite see Dirk having sex with Rose/her new robot body.  (Gosh, I hate that I feel compelled to address this.)

I honestly quite agree with Karkat, and now understand a little bit more about why our focus strayed where it did--- though it would have been nice to receive some sort of narration to indicate that.  And yes, it’s sad that Kanaya’s being put on hold, I guess. A little bit.  (Not really. I understand politicians in places of power can get quite busy, and it may not even be Jane’s decision to have her on hold... though if it is, I can most certainly affirm that that is quite rude.)

I mean... to be fair, Karkat, it’s rooted in biology.  Humans not having a Mother Grub means that the don’t have a natural means to reduce the genetic load that would be caused by related populations interbreeding and therefore dangerously duplicating genes.  Thus, it is not actually arbitrary, which I am sure you would know if you had spent a bit more time acting like the “geneticist” your troll handle suggests you happen to be (yes, I know it means to refer to his ectobiological frog wrangling/recombination; even so, the point stands).

I take it that Karkat’s dejection about the election has kept him a bit preoccupied and out of the loop, lately.

This is horrible (Karkat’s part, I mean).    Roxy’s new new outfit sounds like something I would be very interested in seeing fan art of.   A pink-looking slightly more effeminate Dave look sounds aesthetically striking (and I’m not even a fan of pink). But yeah, good on her for not giving up in frustration for people confusing them, I guess.   ***shrug***

And we return to this awkward and slightly funny subject. Considering it was not resolved last time, I guess that’s reasonable.   (Some day, maybe I’ll write a post analyzing Roxy’s trans-iness and/or how they/he seems to have been affected by those around he/them in his/their path to figuring it all out.  This sort of issue is always a bit difficult to properly tackle without raising some people’s hackles, so to speak, though, so I am not sure if I’ll end up doing it.  Regardless, it’ll have to be quite some time in the future, should I do so, after I’m at least done reading both sides of the epilogues. I’m sure Roxy’s interactions with John will have some important light to shed on the matter.)   It’s sortof nice that Dave and Roxy can joke about this without it becoming too uncomfortable (apparently) for either of them.

...   Is revealing this something they’ve discussed before now?  I mean, doing this in front of friends and family could be sortof... bad for things between them, if Karkat’s still trying to figure out how he feels about it and whether he wants to press on vs throttle back?  I mean, just calling each other boyfriends is not something either of them were comfortable with, and just because Dave is now doesn’t mean Karkat necessarily will be.   I dunno.  I feel conflicted on the matter, despite the fact that it is on the border of being cute.

Yeah, see, this is what I meant:  Awwwwkwaaard.

Yeah, it definitely did serve as a good distraction, at the very least. ~~~ Jane either not knowing or not being willing to tell (we’ll have to wait for a perspective shift to her to be certain) is no surprise.

Gah. FINALLY.  If Roxy weren’t such a Void-y ball of fun, everyone would have known this for some time, by now.  (Also: This is another reason why I am quite certain that Dirk was responsible for at least the way that John died. He didn’t want him to be a threat to him.  [I wonder, though: will Candy John potentially pose that problem, in the future, given the fact that he will likely be able to traverse the two different timelines, should he become aware of them?   Heck, this could be the reason why one had to die in the first place. Or one reason.])

This is what you get when you    A S S   U   M E. Also, Terezi would really be useful due to her Seer powers in particular.

Well. That is a useful compromise. Good on you for finally figuring something out to bridge the gap between your morals and Dirk’s amorality.  (Also, that presents interesting potential conflict in the future, insofar as there might be a point where Calliope has to decide whether to allow them to take Jade with or not.)

Has little Timmy fallen down a well?   O: <

This is funny because it’s like that one time where Jade was sleeping and Dave couldn’t get in touch with her. That time his weird fursona came up. Tightest butt in the jungle, or some stupid nonsense like that.

Dave is smarter than Dirk would give him credit for, calling him the dumbest of the Stralondes, by the way.

Not only do they need one of his ships, but it is quite reasonable to assume that they might be able to entice him to follow with them to where Dirk is going.  This is a potentially dangerous gambit, like bringing Gamzee along anywhere, but I think it could pay off in the end.  I think that, as I suggested earlier, Jake’s probably going to be the one to end up killing Dirk, in spite of all the underestimation that and horrific invective that had been directed his way.   In all honesty, this would really seem to be the direction that Jake’s been being pushed in all along, considering all the failed opportunities to interject him into a place of importance in the story.  

Considering his level of devotion and love for Dirk, now, he very strongly reminds me of that one old clown story that AH wrote... the one where the clown was never able to pull himself away from the service of his abusive, evil master. I bring that up specifically to suggest that Jake WILL succeed, however.  I believe that, counter to the example that I just cited, and contrary to all of the deterministic forces that Homestuck has seen in play, the power of Hope will be what is necessary to do the impossible.  A Page has a long, pain-filled story arc, but when it finally blossoms into the great behemoth that its seed of potential suggested it was from the very beginning, amazing things can happen. A Page of Hope is perhaps one of the most potent Classpect-endowed figures that Paradox Space could conjure up.  I have come now to see that this turn on Dirk’s part was probably planned from the beginning, as was the fact that Dirk’s abandonment of him was likely meant to be the catalyst for the eventual realization of Jake’s full potential. Obviously, this will not likely happen in the near future, much to our short-term misfortune. Dirk, if you ever see this, know your folly:  Jake English is just the force you would need to break free of the shackles of the reality you live in---   if only you believed in the him that believes in you.   Instead, your Rage will consume you. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I love this dramatic comedy.

Honestly... this is great. From a writing stand-point, this is excellent. The decision to have Dirk drag Terezi along brings more significant stakes to things and drama for the future, especially with the fact that we DO know that he can be brought back to life, now, despite Dirk’s statement to the contrary. Despite all of my pathos earlier, the way this story (the story of Homestuck) is ending is actually getting me excited and washing away the scars that came from the darkest hour of the path previous.     I really like the mechanic of Dirk having reality warping powers and Alt!Calliope being able to counter them, but only in close proximity. With the speed of his ship being a factor, especially, this sets up for some really interesting potential action in the further development of the story, as well.                    That Hussie was able to so masterfully navigate these emotional waters and string me along to this point was brilliant too.    In sum:  WOW, GUYS, I’M PUMPED!!! ... But... while this would actually serve as an excellent, fully complete and enticing epilogue in and of itself, the fact remains... there is yet more. Not only in the Postscript, but in Candy.      This throws many spanners into the works, and I honestly don’t know how to feel about all that!     If this weren’t Andrew Hussie we were talking about, I would be incredibly afraid that what is to come would throw everything off and make the eventual follow-up in Homestuck^2 (which I know he’s at least directing, though he’s not quite as involved in the story as he was in Homestuck, apparently?!) potentially quite messy and of a much lesser quality than I might expect. Given this IS Andrew Hussie we are talking about, however, I actually am quite confident that eventually, it will work out splendidly, and raise his literary accomplishments to even greater heights. Though... I am filled with a bit of trepidation. That “eventually” will be so far in the future. ***laughs awkwardly*** ... Buuuuutttt there’s still more left, even on this page, so I had better get to that. ...

It is very interesting that she’s been enveloped in that blanket of space so thickly and constantly that she’s come to find it comforting. That said:  How is it possible for her to withdraw and still let narration continue, supposedly without source or accountability, as she states?   Is this meant to suggest that the passive forces of Paradox Space will naturally fill in the gap if there is no one manning the ship, so to speak?   This feels a bit unlikely, considering the lack of content for years of the characters’ lives, and Dirk’s suggestion that “God had abandoned them,” or however the heck he put it. This is all veerrry curious, indeed.  (I do like her commentary on narration. A lot.) ~~~ Woooooo!!!~    It’s really nice to finish this at--   Dangit, time, why do you have to keep ticking into the future?!       Well, even though it’s not 3:14, anymore, it’s still very nice to finish the Meat Epilogue on 02/02/2020.   :’)

[i4z-0892-il]

Monster House 5

Summary: Posing as Newlyweds Sam and Y/n set out to investigate what’s killing the visitors of a secluded Inn, and attempt to keep their working relationship professional.

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word count: 6750

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only, suggestive themes, language, smut

A/N:  Soooooo I went a little keyboard happy on this one. It’s a little longer than I thought it would be.

Immerse yourself in the story, Buy Sam’s Scent Here from @scentsfromthebunker (And damn does it smell goooooood)

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Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Yanking a brush through your hair hard enough that you would just tear any knots straight out of your head helped to keep your focus. It was hard to concentrate on the fact that Sam’s hands had been all over the lacy black panties you were now wearing when you were busy ripping chunks of hair from your scalp. Satisfied with it just being out of your face, bust still wild and barely tamed you stuffed the brush back into your bag and lamented on not having anything left to do to buy yourself more time. You’d have to leave the bathroom eventually. You’d have to look at him at some point. And you were going to have to do it while keeping your shit together which was difficult enough just through sheer proximity. Let alone being all cramped and squished against him, his frame towering over you, so large he could have swallowed you whole. Long strong arms keeping you up as if you weighed nothing, his hand riding dangerously low on your stomach, holding you in place against him. His hands all over your underwear, and in them. An all too familiar heat blossomed between your legs.

Gripping the sink and clenching your legs together as if you could hold it in or stop it completely you let out an exasperated sigh. This whole job was a bad idea. You should have come with Dean. Sure he’d have been obnoxious, but you’d still have fun, you’d still have been convincing. And most importantly you could walk away after the job was finished knowing that nothing had changed. Dean was great, but you’d had plenty of time to develop feelings for him, and nothing evolved. He was exactly where you wanted him to be. Platonic. Sam was another story entirely. And you were playing with fire.

There were a couple options on the table for how this whole job ended. Either you’d put on a show, keep your act together and go home to pine for him in secret- business as usual. Status Quo. Or you’d wind up coming on too strong, playing the game a little too well, embarrass the shit out of yourself and then have to live awkwardly around him until you had successfully humiliated yourself to death. There was no third option. Because the third option was completely off the table and nothing but wishful thinking. The night he nearly kissed you in the library was a drunken mistake, and a near miss. You had to find a way to shut down the way he made you feel. Which was simultaneously amazing and amazingly frustrated.

There had been a few times little things he did stirred you up so well and so agonizing that you had to go find some rando at a bar to go home with and alleviate the desperate need in you. But scratching the itch never brought real relief.

A short, soft knock on the bathroom door brought you out of your head and back into the real world.

“You ready? This class is starting in ten minutes.” Sam asked from the other side. Your cheeks burned at the sound of his voice, and the heat pooling low in your gut just kept smoldering away.

“Yeah. Be out in a second.” You answered, but you could have melted straight into the floor. Giving yourself another moment to collect yourself you sucked in a breath to clear your head, fixing your face stoic, and unbothered. Stepping out of the bathroom you tossed your bag of toiletries on top of the dresser. Sam was waiting for you wearing a teal and gold plaid button up, the one with the snaps instead of buttons. The one that made his eyes just pop. The one that hung so well on him, and over his broad, muscular shoulders. The one that you had spent many nights dreaming about ripping open.

“I have clothes on now, you wanna tell me what you found out?” He asked. You preferred him sans the clothes, but you wouldn’t be able to focus. Letting out a snort you rolled your eyes, as if it was all just ridiculous, as if you truly didn’t want to see him naked. If you told yourself you didn’t enough times, then maybe you’d start to believe it. You were going to handle this whole job through sheer force of will. And if nothing else you were most definitely a stubborn woman.

“Yeah so get this- it turns out that the guy who built this place, Wellington, didn’t die of the plague like we thought.” You offered clever and proud. Sam’s brow furrowed in slight confusion as his interest piqued.”Right? Turns out he died of Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy.”

“Broken heart syndrome?” Sam replied, incredulous. You answered with finger gun, click of your tongue and a wink. “That’s… Really? I mean, people don’t really die from that.”

“Hey, I’m not a doctor, and I wasn’t there when it happened. I’m just relaying the info. Besides, it kind of makes sense doesn’t it? Guy’s whole family dies in a matter of months. Wife was the last to kick the bucket, from bubonic plague no less. Sounds like a perfect recipe for a stress induced heart attack for me.”

“That might explain the disappearances. If he’s a ghost he could be abducting people, targeting the couples here.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.”

“That doesn’t explain the body count in the woods though.”

“I mean… there is a very real chance that it’s just what the local authority thinks it is.”

“Animal attacks, and you buy that?”

“Why not? What are the odds of there being a ghost here and a monster out there?” You asked with a shrug. If Wellington was still haunting the halls of his home - which explained why it gave you the creeps, then you were willing to give the Garcia PD a little credit. Not to mention the fact that you were far more willing to take on a ghost case than a Wendigo or something else just as nasty. Ghosts were scary, but that was fixed with a simple salt and burn. And you were willing to put serious money on the fact that the Wellingtons were buried somewhere on the property. Gank the ghost, and go home before you did something you’d regret. Story tied up in a bow. End scene.

Sam was willing to run with your theory, albeit reluctantly. Because when were the odds ever in his favor?

“Okay guess we’re going to have to see if any of the guests have had any strange occurrences happen.” He said, moving to the door and holding it open for you.

“And where on the property they’re buried.” You added, continuing your thought as you walked past him. “I’m guessing Derek probably knows.”

Sam locked the door behind him, his body tensing when you dropped Derek’s name. Derek. He did not like him. There was just something about him that made Sam wary. Of course the designs he had on you was a factor in that feeling that he could not discredit. It was probably a majority of the reason if he was completely honest with himself, if not the whole reason. Of course, he wouldn’t blame you if you decided to make a move. He’d wind up just fucking hating the guy, but you were free to do whatever with whomever. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t been with other men before. Wasn’t like he hadn’t been with other women. And he wasn’t going to be selfish enough to ask you to refrain from doing what you wanted.

“Alright, so after lights out we’ll to an EMF sweep and see if we can’t turn up old Wellington.” Going on with your train of thought as you made your way down the hall, Sam right next to you. You were talking but he wasn’t listening, and you weren’t exactly paying attention. He was too focused on the idea of you and Derek together. All you’d have to do was show a little interest and he’d be on you like white on rice. And it was infuriating. Derek would touch you wrong, he wouldn’t worship the parts of you that should be worshiped. He wouldn’t hold you right, or kiss you right with the passion and fire that you deserved. He wouldn’t pay attention to the the tender spots that Sam wanted his mouth over for the last year and a half. Then you’d come back to him smelling like the other man, and only half as satisfied as you could be. And he would have to choke down the way it would crush him. The way it does crush him, knowing that this was only a job to you. The way it should have just been a job to him.

“Oh!” A little light bulb clicked in your head as you stopped in your tracks two steps up from the base of the staircase. Sam stopped and turned to look at you. You were two stairs up and only barely eye level with him. “I almost forgot. That dancing night thing on Thursday. Turns out that’s an ongoing tradition in place of the Anniversary Gala’s that Wellington threw for his wife each year. Also it’s a black tie event.”

“What?” Sam questioned, unsure if he’d heard you right through your rambling pace and the word vomit. “Black tie?”

“Yeah. I know and there’s going to be a bunch of people people here because it’s apparently a big deal in these parts. And frankly I am not willing to rub elbows with the Bourgeoisie. Aristocracy can kiss my ass, they’re not better than anyone else. So anyway, the sooner we burn the bones and get out of here the better.” You answered not even wanting to ponder the idea of having to squeeze into some fancy little cocktail dress and heels and pretend like it wasn’t excruciating, or that your feet wouldn’t be killing you. It made you shudder at the thought of having to be around some weak-chinned trust fund baby talking about the tennis match they played at the yacht club. Sam on the other hand was less focused on attire than he was your comment ‘the sooner the better.’ Ouch. That one stung. You were right though, the sooner the case was solved and you could all go back to business as usual, the better. Less chance of fucking up, less chance of things between you changing. Less opportunity for him to slip up and spill something he should have kept to himself.

“Right.” He replied quickly, clearing his throat and shifting his weight on one leg. “Yeah, you’re right. The sooner the better.”

It wasn’t what he said, it was how he said it. Distant and aloof, unfeeling. And it struck you in the chest just a small pang of hurt. Turning your eyes from him so he couldn’t see the disappointment you looked down the hall off the foyer. You shouldn’t have been bothered by it, after all he agreed with you. But his answer wasn’t nearly as comforting as you had hoped. No it was exactly what you hoped for. Nothing. That was what you wanted after all, nothing. That was how it should be, nothing. Because if there was something…

An unmistakable head of curly ebony hair caught your attention in the hallway and you let out a perturbed groan. Fuck, this bitch again. Sam followed your gaze to Esmeralda chatting with another couple down the hall. Chuckling he turned his attention back to you.

“Not a fan?”

“No. You should have seen the look she gave me earlier.”

“I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it. Y’know you have a chronic case of resting bitch-face yourself.” Sam teased. Your jaw dropped in offense and you shoved his shoulder playfully.

“Wow, rude!” You laughed, shaking your head in good humored annoyance.

“Hey, your words, not mine.” He replied. Esmeralda finished up her conversation with the other couple and immediately caught sight of Sam. Like a fucking lioness stalking her prey, she walked over as if it was a mission from god. In her eyes you had already disappeared. Without thinking you slipped your arms over Sam’s shoulders edging in closer. His hands came to rest at your hips as he looked at you quizzically. Up till you laid eyes on her you had maintained your distance.

“We’re supposed to be married right?” It was less a question more a statement and he gave you a dimpled grin in agreement.

“Right, because it couldn’t be that you’re jealous?” He asked and you snorted.

“No! I am not jealous of her. But if I’m playing the part of wife I gotta act like it right? Besides what do I have to be jealous of?” You stumbled through your denial, hoping you sounded more convincing out loud than you did in your head. Jealous. HA! What? Of her perfect full bodied hair that probably smelled like really expensive conditioner? Or her skin that looked as soft as silk? Pfft. Please. You were definitely not jealous of her absolutely killer body. Or her bedroom eyes with curling lashes a mile long and thick as night. Nope, not a damn thing to be jealous of there. And most of all you were not jealous or threatened by her presence around Sam. Not even a little.

“Mr. Wesson, I trust your hike today was enjoyable?” Esmeralda said, with a voice as sweet and smooth as summer wine. And you wanted to gag. Or choke her. Or gag while you were choking her. Sam turned to face her with a smile, one hand still on your hip. You dropped an arm from around his neck letting it lovingly rest over his bicep which was so strong you could have kept hands there for all eternity.

“Yes, it was very enjoyable.” Sam answered in earnest. Less about the scenery, more about you. A few choice moments sticking out in his head as particularly enjoyable.

“Marvelous.” She enthused. “Well if you’re ready the gentlemen are playing cards and having drinks in the parlor, if you’ll follow me.”

Your whole body froze as mild panic rose in your chest.

“I’m sorry I thought this was a couples cooking class?” You asked letting out a nervous laugh. Sam was supposed to be there to keep you from burning the place to the ground because you way overcooked a pie. Or quiche. Or whatever the fuck they wanted you to make. Not to mention the fact that it was dumb to have a cooking class listed on a couples retreat itinerary.

“Yes, well it was originally. Unfortunately one of the guests partners has fallen ill and couldn’t make it to the class, and we certainly didn’t want to keep him from enjoying himself this evening. I’m so sorry for the mix up.” She answered but didn’t look away from Sam, and you were pretty sure you saw her face harden out of irritation that she had to speak to you at all.

“Well. Y’know, I’m pretty good at Texas Hold ‘Em myself I’d love to-”

“I’m sorry Mrs. Wesson, I’m afraid there is only room at the table for one more.” She cut, her eyes darting to you like daggers, taking you a back completely. Fucking rude.

“So then why don’t you come with me to the class anyway?” You asked Sam, though it was more telling than requesting.

“I’m sorry, that won’t be possible either, it would be unfair to the other guests.” Esmeralda interjected. Seeming to have an excuse for fucking everything. You smiled through grit teeth.

“Of course it would.” You said finding it difficult to mask your disdain. Derek emerged from the hallway to join the three of you at the foot of the staircase, a kind smile on his face.

“Y/n, we’re so glad you could make it. If you follow me I’ll take you to the kitchen, we’ve got an excellent array of desserts and cocktails to sample during the class.”

This time it was Sam’s turn to be uncomfortable, his grip on your hip tightening a little upon Derek’s approach and all to casual drop of your name. Like he’d known you forever, it was too familiar. Esmeralda took him by the arm slowly coaxing the grip you had on each other apart, and he let her with little reluctance. She walked him down the hall to the parlor, but his eyes stayed on you and Derek until you were out of view.

“Yep, sounds… just fantastic.” You lied. He offered his elbow for you to take and escorted you to the massive kitchen where there were four other women waiting and chatting with full glasses of wine.

Dropping your hand to your side you took a look around. Clearly you had severely under-dressed for the occasion, these women looked like they stepped straight out the Stepford wives. To be fair this was one of your nicest t-shirts, it was one of the only ones that didn’t have holes in it, and it had a little ufo on it with small text saying ‘I want to leave.’ It was accurate, and it was your favorite. You even put clean jeans on without rips in the knees, and your nice boots. So… they were lucky.

On the table where they sat was several trays full of macaroons, various cheesecakes, tiramisu, and tiny cupcake sized apple tarts but the apples had been sliced thin and turned into roses. A small banquet table sat nearby with three clear beverage dispensers. One of them was champagne colored and had peaches and mangoes and strawberries floating in it, the other was a lime green concoction with more matching fruit. The last was most definitely Sangria, and you made a beeline for it. Derek stepped in beside you offering a glass for you to pour your drink into, though opening the spigot and letting it pour directly into your mouth seemed like a better use of your time and energy than anything that was to come next. You were going to drink the entire damn dispenser dry, fruit and all by the end of the class.

“Hi.” A woman with blonde hair curled into flawless waves, not a single strand out of place. She eyed you curiously, like you were a circus act than a person who didn’t know there was a dress code for a fucking cooking class you didn’t even want to be a part of! “I’m Emily, pleasure to meet you. And you are?”

“Y/n, nice to meet you too.” You held your hand out to shake hers but she didn’t take it.

“Come meet everyone.” Emily suggested taking you by the arm and practically dragging you over to the table, and introducing you to the other women like she was the host of a quaint dinner party. “Y/n this is Ashley, Victoria and Charlotte.”

Victoria was a haughty woman with black hair, with secrets behind her dark eyes. Ashley was a cute slip of a thing, but something told you she wasn’t exactly as innocent as she looked. Charlotte gave you a big smile, and was the only one who didn’t look at you like you crawled out of a hole.

“How long are you here for?” Charlotte asked.

“About a week, maybe less.” You answered.

“Less? Why would you want to leave early?” Emily quizzed. You were put on the spot, and you did not like being the center of any kind of attention.

“Oh y’know, we’re from out of state so we might try to check out a few tourist spots on our way back home.”

“Where are you from?” Ashley asked.

“Lebanon. Kansas.”

“A long way from home aren’t we.” Victoria said not bothering to look at you, just her voice set you on edge.

“Uh, yeah. Guess so.”

“How long have you been married?” Charlotte asked.

“A little while now, feels like yesterday.” You joked, awkward, and uncomfortable.The questions were flying left and right. Nosy and asking for too many details, details that were too specific and you couldn’t be vague enough about. You found yourself quickly downing the first of many more glasses of Sangria. You and Sam had gone over some details of your backstory, glossing over a general picture, but there were plenty of blanks to fill. And you felt like you were being interrogated, or dissected by these women.

“Where did you get married?”

“Uhh, we eloped.”

“Any kids?

“None.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“Y’know I would love to chat a little more about this later but I think we’re supposed to get started now.” You said, trying to find an escape hatch. All day you’d been lamenting having to cook, and now you were elated to start. Anything to shift the focus off of you and your fake marriage.

Derek showed you to a station set up and ready, and right in the middle of the island, but you were land-locked by Emily and Charlotte on either side of you. And that’s when the dread really kicked in. This was actually happening. They actually expected you to participate, not only participate, but to do it and actually be happy about it! Maybe you could feign sickness and go hide in your room. The raw ingredients in front of you taunting you but just being there. You downed your second glass.

“Ladies tonight we’re going to be making one of my favorite recipes Amaretto Apple Streusel Cupcakes.” Derek started. The only part of that catching your interest was the Amaretto part. Beyond that- what the fuck made a streusel? You started on your second glass of Sangria.

Derek led the class through the introductory steps, talking entirely too much about the ingredients we were using, but making sure you knew that there was plenty of wiggle room in the recipe to adjust to your tastes. There was going to be so much Amaretto in yours you’d get tipsy off of eating one. If you didn’t burn it first. He left plenty of room for talking among yourselves.

“So how did you and your husband meet?” Charlotte asked, big brown eyes moving from you to the mixing bowl in her hands.

“We just happened to be working together.” You answered quickly. “So, this place is kinda interesting.”

“Yeah, I guess so. The mountains are nice, and one of the lakes is like… perfect.”

“Sam and I went for a hike today, it was definitely something. I could have sworn I heard like… scratching earlier when we were getting settled.”

“Huh. That’s odd.” Charlotte said, preoccupied.

“Hear anything like that in your room?”

“Nope, can’t say I have, but I honestly haven’t spent much time in the room. Declan and I have been keeping pretty busy.”

“Right, of course. I think I saw some flickering lights earlier too.”

“Well, this place is like really super old. I’m sure the wiring is a conflagration waiting to happen” She answered absentmindedly, adding extra spices and such to her mixing bowl.

“Yeah, it kind of gives me the creeps, y’know.” You pressed but Charlotte just shrugged and continued on with her task. The mixture in her bowl looking smooth and creamy, while yours looked… chunky. Clumps of flour sticking together and unwilling to unstick and mix right. And you definitely added too much amaretto, because some of it was runny. How could something be runny and clumpy at the same time?

Derek continued on with the next steps and down went glass number four. Your fingertips were starting to tingle, your head pleasantly buzzing. Derek refilled your glass and set it in front of you, full lips curling into a smile.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” He asked, and you replied with a nod taking a long sip from your glass.

“Mhmm, I uh, I don’t think I did this right.” You answered a little defeated, eyes landing on the lumpy and runny bowl of doughy batter in front of you. Derek responded with a chuckle, as he moved around the island to stand between you and Charlotte.

“It’s just not quite mixed in there yet.” He said, picking up a whisk and whipping the batter smooth like it should be. He placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “See? Beautiful. Have you tried it yet, to make sure your flavors are where you want them?”

Shaking your head no he let his hand trail down your arm taking your hand in his and dipping your finger in the batter. Bright green eyes locked on you as he watched you lick the batter from your fingertip. Unfortunately for him you were five glasses deep, and less concerned about the sultry look in his eye, or the way he was biting into his lip than you were about being delightfully surprised that it actually tasted okay.

“Wow. I thought for sure this was going to be inedible.” You laughed. Derek chuckled, and smiled at you again, rapt by you, and you saw an opening. Leaning your hip against the island, and taking another sip you edged in, just a little closer. “So, that guy Wellington you were talking about earlier, he really had to watch his whole family go down?”

“Yes, it's really terrible. The plague is not an easy disease to watch someone succumb to, it takes hold quickly and they suffered before they passed.” He answered, more than happy to be in your close proximity.

“Yikes.” You remarked, half way through glass number six. “So if they all passed away in a couple months, that’s a lot of funerals to deal with. Did they have like a family plot around here?”

“Yes they did, there’s a clearing in the trees by the overlook where they were all laid to rest. Mr. Wellington put this property here for the views, I suppose it was what he wanted in death as well. I’m afraid its all a bit overgrown now. The groundskeeper refuses to set foot on it. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious, I’m all about that spooky shit.” You answered, putting your drink down, because pacing is a thing and you needed to exercise it before something else uncouth just fell out of your mouth. Derek laughed, finding your comment more endearing than anything else. “Anything weird happen around here?”

“Depends on what you mean by weird.” He answered, intrigued. You edged in, just a hair closer.

“You know, like… flickering lights, cold spots, strange voices in the night.”

“Ah,” he laughed again. “You want to know if this place is haunted.”

“Well, is it? Should I be worried? Have to break out the crucifixes?” You teased.

“This place is old, and there have been an odd thing here and there, but I can’t say that it’s haunted. If it is I don’t think I’ve ever encountered anything supernatural.”

“Bummer.” You said slumping back in your place, and turning your attention back to the batter in the mixing bowl. Derek gave your shoulder a light squeeze before moving back around the island and continuing the lesson.

The poker game was done, and Sam could have won every round, but threw folds every now and then, not wanting chance putting a tarnish on a good first impression. The five other men split off to chat sipping brandy like they were on the goddamn Titanic before the iceberg. Of the six only one of them caught Sam’s attention. He was sunk into a chair by the roaring fireplace, his cheeks sallow and gaunt, he was thin, too thin. Clothes didn’t seem to quite fit right, and he looked just tired. Sam picked up a glass and sat in the chair beside him.

“Nolan, right?” Sam asked, earning nothing more than a slow nod from the skeleton in the chair. “You uh, you okay man? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine.” Nolan answered, quiet, and distant.

“You sure?” He pressed, unconvinced. Nolan didn’t respond, he only took a long sip of the amber liquid in his glass. Giving up on pleasantries Sam decide to skip straight to the point. “So, you wouldn’t happen to have noticed anything weird going on here would you? My wife and I we’re kind of into the ghost tours and stuff, and we heard this place had some unexplained phenomena happen over the years.”

Nolan turned dim blue eyes to him leaning against the arm of the chair, beckoning Sam to move closer and lean in to share a secret that wasn’t for prying eyes or ears.

“If you were smart, you’d take your woman and leave.” Nolan warned, locking eyes with Sam not a single hint of insincerity on his face.

“What?”

“You believe in ghost stories?” Nolan asked, his voice falling to a hush. Sam nodded, eager and interested. “There’s something here. It moves in the night.”

“What do you mean?” Sam pressed. Maybe there was some serious credibility to your theory. A small hand clasped his shoulder before Nolan could respond, he turned eyes up to meet icy green ones as Esmeralda stood beside him smiling cheerfully.

“Mr. Wesson, I was wondering if you’d accompany me to the cellar.” She said sweetly. “There are a few more bottles of Brandy and Bourbon for tasting, but I’m afraid I only have two hands and can’t carry all of them.”

Sam looked back at Nolan before turning to Esmeralda and agreeing to help with a nod. But the conversation wasn’t over. Nolan had seen something, and he was determined to find out what exactly he’d seen. Setting his glass on the mantel above the fireplace and followed the petite woman down the hall. When they passed by the kitchen he peeked in to see you smiling, cheeks flushed, and standing a little too close to Derek who ran his hand down your arm. His jaw set tight, not thrilled in the slightest to see Derek getting a little too comfortable with you, his wife. Fake wife. Friend. Business partner. Platonic co-worker.

Swallowing down his offense and jealousy that formed a lump in his throat he had to remind himself that it wasn’t his place to have any say over what you did. No matter how much he wanted to just steal you away. It could never happen. This was just a temporary arrangement. And you always did have a way of getting information from men. It seemed easy for you to dial up the charm and flash those pretty doe eyes, and they’d melt like putty in your hands. He knew that fact from experience.

The cellar was relatively small compared to the grandiose of the rest of the Manor, but it was still impeccably stocked. Different liquors and wines from all over the world fit into the cedar shelving. One bottle after another Esmeralda placed them in Sam’s arms.

“I do appreciate your help Mr. Wesson.” She said, her fingertips leaving the last bottle and lingering over his forearm.

“You can call me Sam.”

“Alright then, Sam it is.” She agreed. His name dripping from her lips like honey. “So Sam, tell me, what brings you all the way out here to our neck of the woods?”

“Y/n and I needed a vacation. Heard about this place, figured we’d check it out and see if it as anything special.” He said flashing a quick smile. She tucked a bottle in her arms before turning to look at him curiosity writ on her face.

“And do you have any doubts that this place will live up to your expectations?”

“No, I think it’s shaping up to be exactly what we were looking for.”

The Apple streusel whatevers were just about done being cooked, and the smell from the oven was mouthwatering. You had finished glass number six and hoping that seven would be the last one for the night because you simply could not remain in that kitchen without a drink in your hand, but you were already drunker than you’d intended to be.

“Y/n, you seem nervous.” Victoria said from behind you, making you jump in surprise, the look on your face startled as you turned to address her.

“I uh, I don’t cook much. It’s really not my specialty.” You explained honestly. Since moving into the bunker Dean was the master chef, and when he wasn’t doing it you stuck to leftovers, or food from the 7-Eleven.

“You don’t cook for your husband at all?” She asked, and you scoffed.

“Nope, Sam’s a big boy. If he’s hungry he can fend for himself.” You answered and she looked downright appalled. Oops.Maybe that was a little too honest. “I mean, we’re not particularly domestic… so....” You shut yourself up with the glass in your hand.

“I see, that’s a shame. I’m sure he’ll be pleasantly surprised then when you bring these back with you.” Victoria said, there was no change in the pitch of her voice, she was speaking pleasantly and civilly, but there was nothing but disdain in her eyes.

“Yeah, he’s not going to believe it.” You laughed, she didn’t.

“Do you do anything for your husband?” She continued. What, were you supposed to be his maid or something?

“Nope, he married me for my charming wit and sparkling personality.” You quipped, unable to stop the sarcasm that oozed from your words.

The oven went off and it was the most beautiful sound in the world. You excused yourself from Victoria’s irritating company and moved to wrap up your cupcakes and get the fuck out of the kitchen. The whole ordeal hadn’t been a total bust, you found out where the Wellingtons were planted, and that none of the women had experienced anything inexplicable, which didn’t give you much hope that your theory was correct. Polishing off your last drink you tucked the box of cupcakes under your arm and slipped out of the kitchen just in time to see Sam walking down the hall to the parlor with Esmeralda struggling to keep up with his pace. Letting out a grumbling sigh you headed back up to the room, not wanting to have to deal with little miss perfect for a single second, you’d had too much to drink and your filter was about ten minutes away from being nonexistent. The second you hit the bed your eyes fell shut.

When he returned to the parlor Nolan was gone, the cooking class was done and the men left to go be with their wives. But you were nowhere to be found. And neither was Derek, a pit grew in his stomach, not wanting to entertain the idea of where you might have snuck off to and with who.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself tonight.” Esmeralda said, handing him a bottle of Bourbon.

“Yeah, yeah thanks. It was nice. Is that guy Nolan okay? He looked sick.”

“Mr. Ross is a little under the weather, I’m afraid he may be catching whatever bug Mrs. Ross had.” She explained with a smile.

“Right, of course. Thanks again, I think I need to go find my wife.”

“Goodnight. Sam.” Esmeralda said, growing want in her voice, and unmistakable in her light green eyes. Sam nodded, and gave her a quick goodnight before exiting down the hall and back to the room. If you were off somewhere with Derek he did not want to take the risk of catching you in the act. He didn’t think he could stomach it, or remain collected afterwards.

When he locked the door behind him and turned to the bed he was more than pleasantly surprised to find you sprawled across the entire California King size bed. How someone so small could take up so much space he’d never be able to grasp, but it was endearing nonetheless.One arm was hanging off the edge of the bed, and the other was stretched above your head where your hair splayed out like a halo around your face so serene and angelic. Untying the laces of your boots he slipped them off your feet and dropped them on the floor before grabbing a couple pillows from the bed and a blanket to settle in on the floor.

He lay there for a while, unable to quiet his thoughts enough to fall asleep. Just happy that you hadn’t run off with someone else. Reaching up he took your hand dangling limp over the edge of the bed and ran his thumb over the buttery soft skin of your knuckles, a small smile playing over his lips.

Breath hitched in your throat as your back arched, chin tipping back and eyes falling shut. Running your fingers through his silky chestnut hair you rolled your hips unable to get enough of that delicious friction between your thighs. Each flick of his tongue over your clit blooming that pleasurable pressure in your core. His lips sealed over your sensitive bud sucking a crying moan from your lips as his long deft fingers pumped in your fluttering pussy, rhythmically and with ease covered in your slick. Legs quivered as you drew your knees up along his side, one hand gripping the sheets of the bed and holding on for dear life.

“Oh god… Sam!” His name fell from your lips like a prayer the deep humming moan he gave in response vibrating against your sex sent you careening over the edge, fireworks igniting behind your eyes as your body trembled under his unrelenting touch. Giving a desperate tug on his hair to bring him to you, wanting to taste yourself on his lips while he buried himself impossibly deep in your aching pussy. But the eyes that looked up at you were not Sam’s kaleidoscope hazel ones, but rather Derek’s misty green eyes.

You stirred in your sleep, a soft, pleased moan passed your lips, and your breath quickened drawing his focus from the warning Nolan had given him to you who must have been having an interesting dream. Another moan, and the rustling of sheets as you shifted in the bed. The sound of your euphoric whimpers left him more than curious.

“Oh god… Sam..” You whispered, barely audible but he heard it. Palming his hardening dick through his sweats he tried to keep himself in control. But there was no mistaking what you were dreaming about now. His name falling from your lips causing the smoldering embers low in his core to flick into a burning fire impossible to extinguish. The longer he laid there, listening to your sleep riddled gasps the harder it was to keep himself focused on anything but you.

It wasn’t the first time he’d thought about you like that. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought of you alone at night. But it was the first time there had ever been confirmation that you just might think about him too.

Unable to lay there any longer, cock throbbing and twitching with each of your rasping breaths he pulled himself off the floor and into the bathroom. Fisting his cock in his hand he pumped in tandem with the quiet mewling from the other room.

Sitting up with a shocked gasp, your eyes open wide and darting around the room in your confusion. That was more than unexpected. Countless times you’d had that dream but it was always Sam. It was never not him. And while Derek was handsome, you weren’t exactly skipping with enthusiasm for the chance to sit on his face. Running your fingers through your hair you let out a sigh, recollecting yourself, and swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. You just drank too much. That was all. It was just the liquor messing with your head.

Taking note that you were still fully clothed you stood up to change into something more comfortable than jeans to sleep in, proud of the fact that you’d at least managed to take your boots off before passing out.

When you stood your head began to swim, the room spinning around you in a dizzying whirlwind. You’d drank plenty before, but you’d never been that drunk. This felt different. Your brow furrowed as your vision went black to a pinpoint.

“What the fu…” With a thud you collapsed to the floor in a heap.

Tags:

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[precuredaily]

Precure Day 140

Episode: Futari wa Precure Splash Star 42 - “Welcome Back! Michiru and Kaoru!” Date watched: 3 July 2019 Original air date: 3 December 2006 Screenshots: https://imgur.com/a/xgCNJSJ Project info and master list of posts: http://tinyurl.com/PCDabout

The title kinda spoiled it

Another excellent episode! We left off with Saki and Mai in a bind because the Fairy Carafe was stolen and Dark Fall’s agents were revived and now more resistant to Precure’s attacks. Dark Fall holds all the cards and Saki and Mai are stranded in the Land of Fountains. It’s a good setup! Where do we go from here?

The Plot

Princess Filia reveals to the girls that the Fountain of the Sun is in the Land of Greenery and uses her own power to transport the girls, their fairies, and herself there... but she loses her corporeal form and ends up as a sphere of light that possesses Korone, Saki’s cat. Meanwhile in Dark Fall, Gohyaan has revived the rest of the generals, but Akudaikaan chews him out for not kidnapping the Princess when he had the chance, as she knows the location of the Fountain of the Sun, so Gohyaan dispatches Karehaan and Dorodoron to track her down.

This is the only time all 6 of these characters are together

Back at the Sky Tree, Filia explains that she needs the Fairy Carafe to return her body, but the villains appear before she can tell the girls more. Saki and Mai transform into Bloom and Egret but their power isn’t enough to defeat the enhanced warriors. Filia pointedly comments that the two spirits (Flappi and Choppi) alone aren’t enough, so she, Korone, Moop, and Foop gather their power and wish for a miracle. In a very emotional sequence, they connect with the slumbering Michiru and Kaoru, who receive the last remaining energy from the Fairy Carafe, and then revive and rush to the Sky Tree to save their friends. It’s a touching reunion, and some words are exchanged between both the sisters and their friends, as well as the villains who were eliminated before they changed sides. Ultimately, words aren’t enough, and Michiru and Kaoru fight Dorodorn and Karehaan.... and they’re winning! The power that Moop and Foop especially lent them, combined with their powers of darkness, are the perfect counter to the blend of dark and light that the villains possess, and the sisters are able to negate Gohyaan’s powerup (Dorodoron flees instead). This allows the Precures to perform Spiral Heart Splash and destroy Karehaan, who dissolves into a bunch of mini-Gohyaan heads that bounce off.

The four girls finally have a moment to take in their reunion, and Saki and Mai cry tears of happiness as the camera zooms out and the credits roll.

(speaking of the credits, stick around at the end for my take on Ganbalance de Dance finally)

The Analysis

What a great episode. I could probably write pages about Michiru and Kaoru’s revival scene, the dialog and music and visuals all come together to make an emotionally powerful sequence. Bloom and Egret are overpowered, Michi and Kao feel so helpless and they can’t move, but they can tell their friends are in danger and they struggle their hardest, so their feelings connect with the energy Filia is trying to send and create a miracle. I love it. Also, you can really tell that Nishio Daisuke worked on Dragon Ball prior to this series because the sequence of the two powering up and emerging from the water is EXTREMELY evocative of something DBZ would do. Joke’s on me, he only worked on FW and MH and had no hand in this series, he was tapped for Powerpuff Girls Z instead. Still very Dragon Ball, I wouldn’t be surprised of some of the other staff had their hands in that before working on this.

Karehaan proves to be his own worst enemy. He doesn’t like working together, believing he’s strong enough on his own to dispatch the girls. He does make a better team with Dorodoron than with Moerumba though, as they don’t butt heads so much as Doro just kind of goes along with that Karecchi says, until it’s in his best interests to run. However, Karehaan’s arrogance and ignorance about Michiru and Kaoru’s betrayal allow him to overestimate himself and the threat the sisters pose. Together with Dorodoron, they actually do have the Precures on the ropes at one point, they could have defeated them there, but they hesitated too long and allowed the Kiryuus to save them. Ah well.

Princess Filia posessing Korone is..... weird, to say the least. For some unexplained reason, beyond simply habitating in his body, her power allows him to speak as well, independently of her, so you have this tiny cat talking in a pretty deep voice. Not the first time an animated cat has talked, of course, but since it’s not Filia speaking through Korone, it’s odd. I don’t remember how long this lasts, presumably up until the finale of the show... in fact I must have blocked it out of my memory completely because I forgot about it happening at all. Korone was portrayed as an intelligent cat up to this point, of course, but now he’s standing on his hind legs and talking like a middle-aged guy and it’s all so strange.

Last thing I want to touch on: animation. It’s uh.... not great here. Close-ups are passable, although the shading is often minimal. The faces may be a little off-model but it’s nothing extreme. Anything further out than a close-up is pretty bad though, especially for human faces.

I guess it’s the usual conserving budget for the finale syndrome but it’s still pretty laughable.

The Opening and Ending

Okay it’s time I finally talked about these.

The opening theme is called “Makasete★Splash☆Star★” or “Leave it to Us★Splash☆Star★”. While the FW/MH opening was a drama, the SS opening is more of a poppy, light rock number. The composition features lots of strings, bowed and plucked at key moments providing both the melody and the bass line. Some high brass comes in here and there and I think there’s some kind of synthesized percussion providing the rhythm. It could be an electric guitar, though, I’m having trouble picking it out. There’s definitely some guitar towards the climax of the song. Mayumi Gojo has been swapped out for Uchiaye Yuka on vocals, and she sings about how there’s strength in life and to use that as inspiration. All together, it’s a nice uplifting tune, and the visuals give us a good idea about what Saki and Mai are interested in, the fairies, and some action sequences. There’s even a scene of the Tree of Life glowing with energy that might be foreshadowing the end of the series? For the revamped intro starting with episode 31, they add a few scenes of Bright and Windy, as well as Moop and Foop, and impressively they edited all shots of Boom and Egret to replace the Mix Communes with the Crystal Communes.

Now, the ending!

“Ganbalance de Dance” is a little bit notorious for being used, and reused, and re-reused. Yes 5 and GoGo both used reversions of it for their second ending themes, and I kind of get it, because it’s a cute tune, but there’s another more important aspect: this is the first dance ending in all of Precure. Why a dance ending? Well, there was a rather popular anime that aired in Spring of 2006 that featured a dance ending, and the world would never be the same. That show was “The Melancholy of Suzumiya Haruhi” and the dance, the “Hare Hare Yukai” took the world by storm. It’s speculated that Precure adopting dance endings was a copycat move. The timing lines up, Haruhi started in April and ended in early July of that year so Toei had time to say “Hey this is really popular, let’s do that in our show.” Dance endings were already commonplace in the contemporary Super Sentai shows as well, so there was precedent. (although somewhat ironically, the Sentai of that year didn’t have a dance) Whatever the reason, they did it again and again but the cell animation was not always the best, so they switched to CG with Fresh and never looked back. However, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

The lyrics to “Ganbalance de Dance” are half instructions for doing the dance, and half general uplifting messages about positivity and believing in yourself. The dance itself is fairly simple, due to limited animation most of the movement is in the upper body, so the girls twist their torsos and extend their arms while keeping their legs mostly still. when they move their legs, it’s only to stick them out and then back in, or to do some small marching. None of the more energetic moving around that later shows will use, again, probably a byproduct of the animation. Notably, since it’s cell animation rather than more expensive CG, they draw the girls in all three of their outfits: school uniform, Bloom/Egret, and Bright/Windy. The villains also dance a little, and I should point out that the text behind them reads “Uzaina” with only one “a” at the end. Suffice to say, I understand but I’m sticking with two. Also look at these guys.

Kintolesky is not present because he hadn’t been introduced in the show yet, and sadly they never update it to include him. This also marked the first reappearance of Michiru and Kaoru, only to segue into a shot of Bright and Windy and then they’re never seen again, but hey, it’s something.

Anyway, it all comes together to make a fun ending song. I’m sorry it took me so long to write about it.

I may revisit this if I think of more things to say about the episode, but for now I think that concludes it. Next time, everybody celebrates Michiru and Kaoru’s return....... but first it’s time for We Are Splash Gays: The Movie. Look forward to it!

Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: 0 Zekkouchou Nari!

No more miracle drop count

[sleeplessinsiswati]

Toxic Masculinity—A Contagious Kind of Pollution

Yeah, yeah, yeah. My bad, I know I’m late.

*grumble and murmuring*

My bad. Look, i said my bad.

*lower murmuring*

Look, in my defense, I had the post locked and loaded on the queue and then my internet went out. Boom. Now can we get on with what we came here for?

_________________________________________________

As you may know about me, bell hooks is one of my favorite authors. She has inspired me, moment after moment and time after time, to grow and love myself and others more wholly and fully.  In her writing she uses a combination of autobiographical, common-sensical language and academic, theoretical research to shed light to the various topics. Here, I will attempt to scratch at the masterpieces of her work, and use both theory and my experience to shed the light of truth concerning what I know about what the world has come to refer to as toxic masculinity.

Your story may be different than mine, but toxic masculinity is something that affects each and every one of us. Let me state again, masculinity is not the issue here; there is nothing wrong with “being a man” or being strong or having power. The issue comes in when notions or ideals of manhood force boys and men to be emotionally unavailable, makes us believe we are not enough as human beings, or encourages us to exploit and take advantage of others in an ultimate quest for power. There’s no way around the reality that this is no way to live, and there is the crux of the argument—living. Most of the things that we come to know and associate with being a “man” and “manhood” have to do with survival. Hunting, fishing, fighting, scanning a room and sizing people up, sports, fitness, taking a hit and not complaining, the list goes on and on. Most of these are guys grasping at straws, trying to get a piece, a bit more power than they had before, in order to survive. But this is not living. 

This is why the first step to growth, and leading a healthier life absent of toxic masculinity, is reflection. You must look over your life, your experiences and genuinely ask are you living or are you surviving. Patriarchy, being a system where men and masculine energy dominate spaces of power or with power and women, children, and weaker men are seen as inferior and vessels willing to be dominated or controlled, makes us believe that survival is the ultimate resource and that there are constant, looming threats to us accomplishing this goal. Though at times this may be true, it is not always true, and if we walk through life always scanning rooms with balled up fists we doom ourselves to early graves filled with bitterness, emotions we’ve never experienced, and a life devoid of love. There is more to life than reliving childhood traumas day in and day out, but that more does not come without being able to reflect and to heal. 

I don’t remember at what point in my childhood I started hating my dad; I know that it was not always that way. There’s a distinctly fond memory I have with him—wrestling my older brother and I, both of us no older than seven at the time, he pinned us down and stood on our chests saying, “ Who’s the man? Who’s the Man?” Gerald and I were half hysterical laughing, half having an asthma attack, and shouting, “ You’re the man! You’re the man!” He laughed saying, “ No, God’s the Man. Say, God’s the Man.” We giggle between gasps, “Okay, God’s the Man!” Mom came on to the scene from the back room of our duplex and looked at Dad with that look that only Black mommas can deliver; we were sorry that we got dad in trouble, but to this day I love that time in my life, I love that memory. 

Perhaps it was the pressures of two lives, two similar personalities, and an age difference spanning over three decades that caused there to be so much friction between us; don’t ask me what the first argument was even about, because I couldn’t tell you. I think that it was the silence that ultimately led to it all. Questions not asked by a son out of fear, and questions left unanswered by a father unaware of the shadow his figure casted. What I do know is that early on in my adolescence I became disillusioned with childhood, with being looked down upon and thought to be foolish, and I know it had a lot to do with Dad and things he said, or how he said them. Something as simple as walking into the room that Gerald and I shared, looking around and making an expression, and finally looking at us and shaking his head was all Dad needed to do to express his disappointment. Honestly I appreciated the silent expressions a lot more than the verbal ones, which seemed to have a back-breakingly painful bite to them. Gerald grew to be calloused and joke about it, but I was raw to it; words more than belts and punishments are what would break my spirit. Around fifth grade I realized that love didn’t really matter, or at least it didn’t mean anything—I loved my dad and he kept smoking cigarettes even after my brother and I begged him to stop; I loved my mom but I couldn’t tell her what I felt about the world because she couldn’t protect me from it; I loved my brother but I felt he constantly belittled me, silenced me, and made me feel like I was stupid (I’m sure he took a few pages from Dad’s book, in this way); I loved myself, or I thought I did, and yet I constantly belittled myself, telling myself that in this world I would have to be stronger. Love could not change anything about life, it just made you feel like you couldn’t even more.

Eventually I gave in to this belief system—years passed and I graduated to full blown “I don’t give a fuck about anything”. I was afraid, powerless and with those tools as weapons I was ready for anything at any time because I felt I had nothing to lose; I felt I had lost so much of my soul already, it wouldn’t matter even if I lost my life. Hotheaded athlete, I knew how to mask my shrewd and heartless demeanor with cool, chauvinistic locker-room thuggery. I acted chill, I wanted to be chill, but in my mind, at any moment I was a shoulder bump away from a full blown “nigga moment”, as so accurately defined in The Boondocks. I was a ticking time bomb, an emotionally unavailable mess all throughout high school, and college was more the same with less of the guard rails.

But before we keep going forward, let’s go back. Black Baton Rouge has become well-known in modern society (before the Alton Sterling murder) for one reason in particular, as far as I am concerned, —Lil Boosie. Now, I’m not talking about “Zoom” or “Wipe Me Down” Lil Boosie, that’s mainstream Boosie. I’m talking “Set It Off”, “Murder Was the Case” Lil Boosie; Boosie that I met that one time at the Mall of Cortana and he said, “Wassup, lil niggas” Lil Boosie. That one. The Boosie BR natives knew growing up was trap before trap was cool. Street, gutta, whatever you want to call it, Black BR loved it and they had to have it. Hell the whole world came to love it, but Baton Rouge had to have it so much that they had to mimic it; kids, even, began to walk with certain swaggers, talking lingos picked up from lyrics. It was a damn masterpiece from a mastermind, and there was no escaping it. The problem though, is what this success for one man meant for many boys (like me and unlike me) growing up in that era. Is being a man being that kind of man? The kind of man in these songs? Why do these boys think less of me because I’m not a “man” like they think they are? Do they know they’re faking?

These were the type of thoughts that got me chin-checked on more than one occasion, questioning what someone saw as their manhood, or them thinking I was calling them soft. I was a huge fan of Dr. King in my younger days, nonviolence and all, but I made up in my mind after one good fight that Dr. King must have never been to Scotlandville, Baton Rouge, a day in his life, and that was that for nonviolence as a way of life in my mind. In a classic case of if-you-can’t-beat-them-join-them, I entered the wade pool of cool poses and posturizing. If a scrap came I didn’t think twice about it, and I was willing to take whatever bruises and lumps came with it from the school or the fight. Not like I was built or raise for all’lat, but didn’t seem like there was much other option. 

Now let’s press play, back at the start of my university academic career. I had finally made it to the platform where I wanted to be—college freshman, class president, track team, chapel assistant, so on and so forth. And the shit felt as plastic as a maxed out credit card. The aggression, the fight that I had come to know and hate and love—for all its pain and all  its suffering, I missed it; it was home, my home. Not much more than a self-righteous leader already, I quickly threw off the mask of who people wanted me to be as the smart, politically correct leader after freshman year, and allowed my passions to roam freely. I did what I wanted, when I wanted, for no reason other than I wanted to. 

It wasn’t until I nearly lost my opportunities to continue my studies and was threatened with the potential for never finishing undergrad, that I sat down and contemplated what went wrong, and why. It was then that I had to take a journey through my mind, into my past and confront the decisions I made, the reasons I made them, and the consequences of those actions. It was here that I discovered and acknowledged the pain in my past. The memories of desperately wanting the approval of my father, and simultaneously being pained by not living up to his seemingly impossible expectations; Times where he seemed to be emotionally unavailable hurt me more than any belt whooping ever could; fleeting thoughts of being silenced or crying inconsolably from feelings of inferiority or brokenness. From these starting points I came to resent the presentation of manhood before me in my father, and the power that came with it, with hoping to one day overcome (or overpower) it by whatever means necessary. That bitterness spilled over into other systems of power and I came to resent almost all, if not all, forms of leadership. Being on the lower rungs of the power dynamic at home and the frustration that came with it did not get any better in the world beyond those four wals; I was short, readily referred to as “nappy-headed”, and emotionally vulnerable. The ego bruises and self-esteem damage I received from early on in my public school career led me to believe that I had to become someone powerful, or to have power, in order to not be disrespected. This belief would haunt me from the moment of its beginning up to this very day. 

Once I realized this, and I was able to accept that for the vast majority of my life I had been living in my past burdened by unforgivness, that I had not been the person I really wanted to be, I began a journey of learning to become for the first time. It was exciting being able to unlearn ways in which I had limited my own humanity for fear of not being perceived as manly or displaying some form of power, but it has also been very painful at times. Admitting to yourself the damage that you have done to others, the damage you have done to yourself, and the damage that has been done to you is not easy. There are people who to this day I feel I owe apologies to, for things that I said or ways that I treated them, Black women in particular; for the sake of recovering acknowledgement I didn’t receive in my youth but desperately wanted, I took advantage emotionally of women who otherwise loved me, cared for me, and wanted to see the both of us to succeed. Some people, most people, are afraid to look into their pasts and examine the truth of their actions because they do not want to face that there may be consequences to their actions; even towards themselves there is unforgivness and bitterness. The truth is, without confronting our past we are bound by them and they have power over us. Only by being able to non-judgementally examine our actions, accept that they were wrong, and pay whatever toll to move forward, can we begin our journey of healing. 

Even I was afraid to begin my journey of unlearning toxic masculinity thinking that I may be vulnerable to the world and it’s threats, but I have come to find my wife and best friend, a life of love and laughter and carefree living, and wholeness through this adventure of learning. Yes, I am now more likely to cry in public and yes I share my feelings more with others, but I now see that instead of living a life silencing parts of who I am and distorting other parts of me to seem more angry or more threatening than I feel, I can just…be. 

And that, for me, is enough. 

Pain is universal: we all experience it, feel it, and suffer. But the only thing equally as universal, and infinitely more powerful is the healing from that pain; that healing is love. I challenge you to ask what ways has toxic masculinity been a part of your life, and then challenge your self to live a more whole, more alive life. Only by ending this vicious cycle can we stop the pollution of toxic masculinity, and breathe the fresh air of self-acceptance, self-love, and truly show our love for others. 

Peace.

[vanessagalang]

Last week, I finally had the courage, and time to have my maternity shoot. 😀

It was such a surreal experience; it was a first time for everyone! My hair and makeup artist, the photo and video team, my husband, and of course, me!

I know it can be unnecessary, since we have so much to prepare for birth and the days after that, but I definitely wanted to push this idea to document this wonderful miracle while I can. And of course, it won’t be possible for me not to write about it here. Teehee!

So I’d like to share some tips and a guide on what you need to do just in case you’ll be holding your own momma-shoot!

Find a Comfortable Venue

I was 35 weeks when I had this shoot, and according to some of my readings, the best weeks to hold this photoshoot is when you are between your 28th to 35th. In this time, at least your tummy is showy enough to be captured, and at the same time, safer. We don’t want to be bothered by the fact that you can give birth any minute while posing for the camera, do we?

Photo Credit: http://sanrafaelriveradventure.com/

I tried looking for studios, and a good AirBNB place, but all the places I’ve looked for are either too cramped, doesn’t allow photoshoots, or are waaaaaaaaaaaaay too expensive!

Good thing, I stumbled upon a post in my feed about this cute getaway place in Bulacan. It’s called San Rafael River Adventure, and the place actually looks divine! 😀

They have a lot of fun activities that you can use for other types of shoots, like the prenup. But since I will just be using the entire accommodation, this should be enough.

It is highly important that you feel comfortable with the location or your venue, because of our condition. This is not the shoot where we can be adventurous. Leave it to the prenups and getaway trips! 😀

I booked the Glass Stilt Cottage, which is newly constructed by the way. I can’t believe I have a view of the lake in front of me! They have a comfy bed, and a jacuzzi. The space outside was enough to cater at least 6 people. There was a hammock, a sliding sofa, good lighting and a breezy weather to top it off. The air condition was good inside as well, plus the windows were perfect for those silhouette shots I was eyeing. Plus I thought that their rainy season promo was just perfect! So, what does a pregnant girl got to do? Book it right away of course! 😀

I am happy that the resort was very quick to reply, and I was given the available dates. I made a group chat, and voila, scheduled it right away together with the available dates of my team! 😀

2. Create Your Mood Board

I am a very bad pregnant-person-slash-client. Grr. I bash myself.

Oh well, I know I have to prepare for this weeks ago, but I was only able to send this to my team two days prior to our shooting day. I was too busy with some other things that I rarely had time to browse Pinterest or create a mood board.

But being the good crammer that I am, I was able to whip one just in time. Hehe 😀

Since I got a really good deal with Grid Studio too, (they are our civil wedding photo and video team by the way); they offered me unlimited shots, so yeah I want to maximize that. 😀

I thought about 5 sets and took inspiration from the things I found online, and of course with the available props and wardrobe that I have.

a. Whimsical Woman

I bought this pink ensemble way back in May, thinking it could be a good alternative for a bridal robe for my church wedding. But turns out, it could serve its purpose at an earlier date!

I also bought these flower crowns in SM. I couldn’t decide which one I like more, so I got them both. Haha Ayoko na pahirapan sarili ko! (I don’t want to have the burden of thinking which one is better!)

b. Simple and Laidback Mom + Hubby

I saw a lot of simples, and laidback shots that are perfect to include baby things, and the husband too. It looks soft on the eyes, very loving, and “very family”.

c. Boss Mama

This one is credited to my working-productive-self! Even though I’m pregnant, I am still very hands-on in my business especially that it’s new and the brand is just starting to pick up.

I always tell myself, I will not lose my identity and individuality just because of the new role that motherhood could bring; more so, it will be a big improvement. I will be a much better version because I’m adding a new role in my resume.

d. Boudoir

I actually wanted one before prior to getting married, but due to time constraints and indecisiveness, I wasn’t able to come up with one. Hopefully, when I get my body back post-pregnancy!

So in the meantime, I thought why not have one while expecting? It’s a totally new form because for once in my life I am not skinny, and I’ve got a few extra curves to flaunt. 😀

I can’t wait to share the silhouette photos! 😀

e. Summertime

Since I love wearing a bikini, and there was a Jacuzzi in our venue, there was no way I would pass on the opportunity of wearing one.

It was very funny too, because for once in my life, I have to buy an extra-large bikini! Haha 😀 I was pretty sad when I didn’t get the color I wanted because I was too big for the available Large size. Goodie, they have this red one that can fit my baby bump.

Which reminds me, I actually had a mini shoot wearing a bikini when I was in Bataan. I was 18 weeks here, and you could see how I just look ‘busog’.

3. Find a Good Maternity Shoot Team

This was easy. I was able to establish a really good relationship with my civil wedding photo-video-HMU team that I thought about them instantly. They actually haven’t done any maternity shoots, so this made the whole experience more exciting.

I actually thought of getting other suppliers, but I realized I will still get a better deal if I get my original team. I also saw some studios offering maternity shoots. Sure they are cheaper, but what I didn’t like is that they don’t give raw files of the photos, and they will only release like 5 to 10 shots, printed and edited. Plus there was no video too.

Grid Studio offered me unlimited shots, a video, printed photos and raw files, plus we can shoot anywhere I like, so yes, there was nothing left to discuss.

Elaine Cordova Makeup Artistry is such a good find too. She has done my makeup for a blog photoshoot and at my actual wedding, and I am really satisfied. She has great skills, plus I don’t have to burn holes in my pockets just to avail her airbush makeup. Elaine is also very instinctive, she knows what you want, asks for your makeup pegs, and deliberately retouches you every now and then, without you even asking.

4. Know Your Poses

Expect a lot of dreamy looks and belly-touching poses on a maternity shoot. So be sure your nails are polished! If you gain some weight and some extra chubbs in your face like I do, be sure you know your angles so you can still achieve the looks you want.

It’s also good to research poses with your husband/partner so things could go on smoothly. I am so happy that Rose and Michael of Grid Studio are very directive when it comes to poses. It was amazing how they handled and directed us even though it was also their first to cover a maternity shoot.

5. Prepare Your Props

We weren’t able to buy a lot of props, but good thing I was able to nick some of the random shopping baby finds we had. Plus it is so helpful that friends and family also gave their baby gifts earlier! Haha More props for us!

Here is the list of the props I think would help add more character to a maternity shoot:

Baby clothes

Baby shoes (Be gender specific)

Baby socks

Baby toys

Ultrasound Photos

Baby book / Storybook

Pregnancy book

Stuffed toy (I had a kangaroo with a little joey in its pouch)

A figure of the first letter of baby’s name (We didn’t have time to find one. Sad. )

6. Get a Good Night Sleep The Day Before

Please do! It’s good for your skin, and to rid those circles under your eyes. Plus it helps you to have good energy for the entire day!

I only had an hour’s sleep though. I was finishing bulk orders ready for delivery the next day, that’s why. I think my strong desire and excitement for the shoot to happen are what sustained me to last the whole day! 😀

7. Enjoy Being Gorgeously Pregnant and Pose the Belly Away

Honestly, I was extra weary that I won’t look great in this shoot, because I’m fat, my skin is dry, my belly button is protruding, my linea nigra is so apparent, my face feels like it’s going to burst, etc.

But hey, I am a walking miracle! That should be enough to keep me happy and make me feel beautiful. So I just accepted all these flaws that I have in my head, after all, these are all normal for a pregnant woman, duh?

So I just prepared myself that I won’t get the usual results in this photoshoot, unlike the past ones. I have to accept that early on. I will look different. Very different. But there’s a growing life inside me, and this little one is going to change my life forever. And being able to document that in a maternity shoot is already a blessing. Truly, something I would treasure for the years to come.

If you are thinking of having one too, I highly recommend it! It doesn’t have to put a big dent on your wallet though. You can always have the kind of shoot you want, whether in your home, studio, in a DIY setup, on the beach, or anywhere you find it comfortable doing. You just have to do your research, and be resourceful!

Go my mermom merfriends! 😀 Be confident and strut that baby bump soon! 😀 You only get pregnant once, or twice, or thrice! Haha 😀 Whatever the frequency is, it would be a great keepsake for your family to remember by, and a great photo to show the little one once he is outside too!

I will share my final shots when I get them!

Enjoy your pregnancy! I’m popping soon!

**, Via

7 Things to Do When Preparing for Your Maternity Shoot Last week, I finally had the courage, and time to have my maternity shoot. 😀 It was such a surreal experience; it was a first time for everyone!

[storyswept]

Sansa: Five Suitors For Her Claim and One For Love

I knew the Ashford Tourney had been linked to Sansa’s storyline and when reading the Dunk and Egg novellas myself, I couldn’t help but notice her common points with Rohanne Webber, known as the Red Widow.

When I started writing this post, I didn’t realise that norwaywolf123 had already adressed the Sansa Stark-Rohanne Webber connection on Westeros.org (link here). He thinks that Sansa might marry Jaime, which is certainly not outside the realm of possibility.

I have a different interpretation which expands on the Ashford theory, so I still decided to post this.

The Ashford Tourney Theory: A Recap

I’d like to give credit to nobodysuspectsthebutterfly and bluefoot3 (reddit) for noticing the parallel between the champions at the end of the first day and Sansa’s suitors in the books.

You can check out nobodysuspectsthebutterfly’s post here and bluefoot3′s here.

The Tourney is organised by Lord Ashford to celebrate the thirteenth birthday of his daughter, who is reigning Queen of Love and Beauty. Each of her defenders is wearing her favor, a wisp of orange silk knotted around their arm.

At the end of the first day, the champions are:

Lyonel Baratheon, Tybolt Lannister, after defeating Robert Ashford and Androw Ashford respectively (the brothers of the thirteen years old maid)

Leo Tyrell

Humfrey Hardyng, unable to continue after his tilt with Aerion Targaryen, whose lance targeted his horse in a display of bad sportmanship.

Prince Valarr Targaryen

Four of these champions share a family name with Sansa’s suitors, which raises the question: is a Targaryen going to be her next suitor?

The Tourney doesn’t proceed the next day. A trial of seven is organised instead, after Aerion attacks a group of puppeters for slaying a mummer’s dragon, and Duncan intervenes, striking the Prince.

Rohanne Webber and Sansa Stark’s Similarities

Both have red hair

Rohanne Webber’s red hair was bound up in a braid so long it brushed past her thighs, and she had a dimpled chin, a snub nose, and a light spray of freckles across her cheeks.

- The Sworn Sword

"Sansa was a lady at three, always so courteous and eager to please. She loved nothing so well as tales of knightly valor. Men would say she had my look, but she will grow into a woman far more beautiful than I ever was, you can see that. I often sent away her maid so I could brush her hair myself. She had auburn hair, lighter than mine, and so thick and soft . . . the red in it would catch the light of the torches and shine like copper.

- ACOK, Catelyn VII

They’re said to use poison or sorcery to kill husbands / betrothed

Dunk wanted no trouble with the Lady of the Coldmoat. At Standfast you heard ill things of her. The Red Widow, she was called, for the husbands she had put into the ground. Old Sam Stoops said she was a witch, a poisoner, and worse.

- The Sworn Sword

Assuming Joffrey had not simply choked to death on a bit of food, which even Tyrion found hard to swallow, Sansa must have poisoned him.

- ASOS, Tyrion IX

"What wife?"

"I forgot, you've been hiding under a rock. The northern girl. Winterfell's daughter. We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window. But she left the dwarf behind and Cersei means to have his head."

That's stupid, Arya thought. Sansa only knows songs, not spells, and she'd never marry the Imp.

- ASOS, Arya XIII

One of their husbands / betrothed was said to have died by choking

My brother was [the third husband], Ser Simon Staunton, who had the great misfortune to choke upon a chicken bone.

- The Sworn Sword

The High Septon knelt beside him. "Father Above, judge our good King Joffrey justly," he intoned, beginning the prayer for the dead. Margaery Tyrell began to sob, and Tyrion heard her mother Lady Alerie saying, "He choked, sweetling. He choked on the pie. It was naught to do with you. He choked. We all saw."

- ASOS, Tyrion VIII

Suitors are more interested in her lands than her person

Cleyton Caswell and Simon Leygood have been the most persistent [suitors], though they seem more interested in her lands than in her person.

- The Sworn Sword

"His Grace the royal pustule has made Sansa's life a misery since the day her father died, and now that she is finally rid of Joffrey you propose to marry her to me. That seems singularly cruel. Even for you, Father."

"Why, do you plan to mistreat her?" His father sounded more curious than concerned. "The girl's happiness is not my purpose, nor should it be yours. Our alliances in the south may be as solid as Casterly Rock, but there remains the north to win, and the key to the north is Sansa Stark."

- ASOS, Tyrion III

They both disappear on a Lannister husband, (thought to be) a kinslayer

A genial man, known to be exceedingly clever, Gerold had served as regent for his young niece, but the suddenness of her death at such a tender age set tongues to wagging, and it was whispered widely in the west that both Lady Cerelle and Tybolt had died at his hands.

(...)

He ruled the westerlands for thirty-one years, earning the sobriquet Gerold the Golden. Yet the tragedies that befell House Lannister in the years that followed were proof enough for Lord Gerold's enemies. His beloved second wife, Lady Rohanne, vanished under mysterious circumstances in 230 AC, less than a year after giving birth to his lordship's fourth and youngest son, Jason.

- A World of Ice and Fire

Of course, Rohanne Webber also shares common points with other characters: Margaery and Cersei (Rohanne’s great-granddaughter) for example. She and Sansa also have their differences (last I checked, Sansa did not take up archery). Still, it’s interesting to see how much they have in common.

Sansa’s Fifth Suitor: Aegon Targaryen

If the Ashford theory is true, Sansa’s next suitor should bear the name Targaryen.

While it has been theorised that Sansa’s fifth suitor could be Jon (if R+L=J), I think it’s more likely that it is “Aegon Targaryen”.

Five reasons why:

1. The Name: Aegon Targaryen fits with the pattern previously etablished, Jon Snow does not.

While I think Jon will probably find out about his heritage at some point (it would be strange to hint at a character’s hidden heritage, if it doesn’t have any effect on the plot), I don’t believe Jon will start calling himself “Targaryen” unless he has to.

It’s not the name he always yearned for. Not to mention he might not be able to use it (depending on whether he’s legitimate or not).

2. Timing: at the end of ADWD, Aegon Targaryen arrives in Westeros. It’s mentioned in passing that a marriage alliance would be a good way to gain support in his quest for the Iron Throne.

"My lord does have one prize to offer," Haldon Halfmaester pointed out. "Prince Aegon's hand. A marriage alliance, to bring some great House to our banners."

- ADWD, The Griffin Reborn

If the Key to the North was to resurface, no doubt she would be thought of as an interesting prospect.

Meanwhile... Jon Snow still knows nothing about his origins. Nor has he a reason to wish for Sansa’s hand, who...

he thinks is his sister

he hasn’t seen since they left Winterfell

he could have taken Winterfell from, if he wished (I’m referring to Stannis’ offer)

Jon’s feelings towards Sansa could take a non-platonic turn in future books. Even so, it will take revelations and time for marriage to be considered. Time during which Aegon might have asked for Sansa’s hand.

3. The Mummer’s Dragon: during the tourney of Ashford, there’s not only a Targaryen champion, but a mummer’s dragon as well...

As he ate he watched a painted wooden knight battle a painted wooden dragon. The puppeteer who worked the dragon was good to watch too; a tall drink of water, with the olive skin and black hair of Dorne. She was slim as a lance with no breasts to speak of, but Dunk liked her face and the way her fingers made the dragon snap and slither at the end of its strings. He would have tossed the girl a copper if he’d had one to spare, but just now he needed every coin.

There were armorers amongst the merchants, as he had hoped. A Tyroshi with a forked blue beard was selling ornate helms, gorgeous fantastical things wrought in the shapes of birds and beasts and chased with gold and silver.

- The Hedge Knight

Several hints link this passage to Aegon:

Quaithe’s warning to Daenerys:

“The glass candles are burning. Soon comes the pale mare, and after her the others. Kraken and dark flame, lion and griffin, the sun’s son and the mummer’s dragon. Trust none of them. Remember the Undying. Beware the perfumed seneschal.”

- ADWD, Daenerys II

Aegon survived because of Varys, who used to be a mummer and has been plotting to put Aegon on the throne.

The Dornishwoman as slim as a lance. Elia Sand, who also calls herself Lady Lance, is travelling with Arianne (Dornish, but not known to be flat-chested) to meet with Aegon Targaryen.

Tyroshi blue: when posing as Young Griff, Aegon was dying his hair blue, supposedly in honor of his Tyroshi mother.

4. Rohanne Webber’s Fifth Husband: Eustace Osgrey fought for Daemon Blackfyre, the King who Bore the Sword.

Like Eustace Osgrey, Aegon’s family has suffered losses for being on the losing side. To regain what was lost, he needs a Spider’s help.

5. Aegon’s Link to Daemon Blackfyre: like Daemon before him, Aegon wishes to take another’s place on the Iron Throne and had set his sights on a Daenerys Targaryen. Daemon ended up marrying Rohanne of Tyrosh instead... whose namesake, Rohanne Webber, shares a lot of similarities with Sansa...

Additionally, Aegon shares some similarities with Valarr. He’s also a king’s grandson, with a Dornish mother. I didn’t cite this among my arguments because if R+L=J, Jon is also a king’s grandson and like Valarr, he takes after his mother in looks.

Sansa’s Sixth Suitor: Will Marry Her For Love?

Should we ever wed, you'll have to send Saffron back to her father. I'll be all the spice you'll want."

He grinned. "I will hold you to that promise, my lady. Until that day, may I wear your favor in the tourney?"

"You may not. It is promised to...another." She was not sure who as yet, but she knew she would find someone.

- TWOW, Alayne I

I believe that Sansa may have a sixth suitor, different from the previous ones, paralleling Rohanne Webber’s six husbands.

From AWOIAF, we know that Rohanne Webber’s last husband was Gerold Lannister. He was already mentioned as a possible suitor in “The Sworn Sword”, though he had yet to make an appearance.

Were I given to wagering, I should place my gold on Gerold Lannister. He has yet to put in an appearance, but they say he is golden-haired and quick of wit, and more than six feet tall …” “… and Lady Webber is much taken with his letters.” The lady in question stood in the doorway, beside a homely young maester with a great, hooked nose. “You would lose your wager, good-brother. Gerold will never willingly forsake the pleasures of Lannisport and the splendor of Casterly Rock for some little lordship. He has more influence as Lord Tybolt’s brother and advisor than he could ever hope for as my husband. (...)”

- The Sworn Sword

Rohanne didn’t believe Gerold would marry her, because he had nothing to gain from it.

Sansa doesn’t believe anyone will ever marry her for love.

It is not me she wants her son to marry, it is my claim. No one will ever marry me for love. 

- ASOS, Sansa VI

Well, maybe someone will...

[chuckbass-love]

Misunderstood | Loki

Pairing : Loki x Female!Reader

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Summary: your childhood friend Loki has changed and you’re worried for him

Word Count: 1,639

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @tomhiddleston-gifs 💗

i hope you enjoy.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Here you are again, staring at him. Admiring him from afar. Loki, your former friend. You’ve grown up with him and you were super close right up until you were teenagers. That’s when it stopped, all contact. He grew distant from everybody including you. You missed him and as it always had been, the crush you had developed on him when you were younger was still very much present now. 

You found yourself looking at him whenever you saw him, if he so much as looked your way you’d look down. You weren’t scared of him but you aren’t entirely sure what got into him and why he went so cold. He’s gotten worse in recent years and you had heard some gossip around Asgard about him. 

Some people said Odin had taken him from Jotunheim when he was just a baby and Loki had found out not too long ago but that doesn’t explain his behaviour when you were only teenagers.

You always noticed Odin treating Thor with a bit more love than he did with Loki, could that be it?

You look back up him to see him staring down at you “What are you looking at peasant?” he growls and you rip your eyes away from his gaze.

You gather your things from where you’re sat and you go to make your way past him but he grabs a hold of your wrist.

“Staring is rude you know” he spits as he stares you down. “I didn’t mean to stare Loki, it won’t happen again” you rip your wrist away from his grasp and scurry out of the room.

Loki knew you weren’t staring to be rude, he could see that you were only interested but you as well as all of Asgard were interested in why he is the way he is. You were all after gossip on King Odin’s son. Well too bad for you, he wasn’t about to let anyone in.

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

You made your way into the library to do some extra reading, you loved books. Mostly you read about the history of Asgard and the other realms but you also enjoyed fairy tales too. The typical princess stories. Dreaming of your prince. When picturing your knight in shining armour Loki always came to mind, even now. Despite his recent actions and moods, you saw the good in him.

You knew that deep down he was a good man. Somewhere inside all of that hate and rage was a little boy that just wanted to be loved and feel accepted. He was just misunderstood.

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

As you walk towards the library the next day you see a crowd gathering. You stroll over to see what all the fuss is about. You get to the front and see guards walking Loki through, he’s chained up on his ankles and wrists. You can’t help but feel awful for him. You wonder what he did. He glances over at you to see the shocked expression plastered across your face with a hint of sadness in your eyes. 

“Didn’t i tell you staring was rude you mewling quim?” he hisses.

You look away and make your way out of the crowd, as you walk into the library you overhear some gossip. Apparently Loki waged a war on New York against The Avengers. Thor brought him back once he lost and Odin has sentenced him to life in the Asgard dungeon. You can’t quite believe it. Why would he do this?

You decide to pass on the reading today, you’re far too distracted. As you walk through Asgard to get home, you see Odin talking to Frigga about Loki. 

“I’ve tried, lord knows i’ve tried” he sighs and she embraces him into a hug “I know” she coos and they walk away. You get it, he has tried but the way you see it is he hasn’t tried enough to talk to Loki. Maybe you should take it into your hands even if it poses as a risk.

“Thor” you call out and he walks over to you. “Let me talk to him” you beg and he furrows his brows “Y/N Loki is in the dungeon, we can’t get to him” you roll your eyes. “I know you can get me in there, please do it” he looks around him to make sure no one is listening and sighs before he nods. 

“You better be quick though” he leads you to the dungeon where they are keeping Loki once he gets the keys. He distracts the guards whilst you sneak in and find Loki’s cell, you see him lay on the bed.

“L-Loki” you stutter as you edge closer to his cell, Thor got you the keys to be able to let yourself in. You know it was dangerous but you were willing to take the risk. You unlock the door and step in, being sure to shut it behind you.

“What do you want peasant?” he mutters as he glares at you

“Well i came to check how you are and i risked a lot to do it but if that’s how you act towards people who care then i’ll take my kindness elsewhere” you turn to walk out but he stops you.

“Wait...stay” a hint of hurt in his voice. 

“Why do you continuously push people away? i’ve done nothing but be nice to you our whole lives and yet you stopped talking to me and started treating me like i was nothing to you” the last few words coming out in a soft whisper. You could feel the tears brimming in your eyes but you push them back.

“It’s complicated Y/N you would never understand. You could never” he twiddles his thumbs as he looks down. You walk closer and sit next to him on the bed.

“Try me” 

He lets out a deep breath. “Well i’m sure you heard that i was born a frost giant, i always had a feeling Odin didn’t see me as an equal to Thor but that confirmed it when i found out. I’ve always felt below them. I never felt accepted by my so called family. I had enough of feeling constantly cast aside and i cut everyone off” he confesses. 

“I get it, i noticed it too but cutting everyone off wasn’t the way to go. People do care but you just don’t let them”.

He turns to look at you. “Like who?” he chuckles “Like me, i care... a lot” you smile at him and for a split second you see it, that little boy that you first fell for. The old Loki. 

“Why?” it’s like he can’t even fathom someone tolerating him let alone someone caring. “Why are you even here Y/N?” he questions as he walks around his cell. 

“I’m here because although you’ve done everything in your power to push me away i refuse to go anywhere and give up on you. After all we were friends once upon a time” he stops in his spot “I like you Loki and i know that’s not something you thought possible, but it’s true. In fact i don’t think the word like even cuts it. I’ve been in love with you since we were children” you surprise yourself with your courage. This is the part where he kicks you out. 

“You love me? You must be insane. I’m evil” he slumps himself back against the wall, sliding down in defeat. “You’re not evil Loki. You’re misunderstood” you walk over to him and lift his chin so he can look up to you.

“I don’t deserve your generosity and kindness” you look deep into his eyes, almost getting lost in them. This is your moment, you know you don’t have much longer with him and you highly doubt Thor can help out again. 

Kiss him.

You lean in and press your lips to his gently, his lips are soft and so is the kiss. You go to pull away but he pulls you back. The kiss deepens and you can practically feel the need from him and see the fireworks going off in your mind. Has he felt the same way this whole time too?

You pull away and stare at each other in shock. “I best get going, i left Thor to distract the guards for me. I doubt he’ll be able to do it much longer” you giggle. You stand up and walk towards the door of the cell. “Y/N” he calls, you turn to face him “Thank you. If this is the last time i see you then i should probably tell you that i feel the same” wait what?

“What do you mean?” you know what he means, you just want to hear him say the words that you’ve longed to hear. 

“I love you too. I don’t know why i never said it before” you give him a soft smile and head out. You lock his cell door and head towards the entrance to find Thor still chatting away to the guards. He’s telling them about The Avengers and Jane.

You sneak past them and shortly after he follows and catches up to you.

“Well?” you hand him the keys “what happened?” he nags “nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about Thor” you giggle, twirling a strand of your hair on your finger as you head home.

You didn’t need to tell anyone. What happened in that cell would always remain solely between you and Loki.

[youaretoosmart]

Can yu write a strangers au where one of them sleep on each other's shoulders and they're too polite to do something about it so they just roll with it

birthday prompts 3/7

I… forgot the strangers AU part omg I’m so dumb. I went with post 3x06 instead!! Sorry!!

The bus bumps gently along the road, one turn at a time, in a way that is vaguely nauseating. Stiles can finally understand Jared a little better: the endless repetitive circles down the mountain are enough to make him want to puke, just for something to do.

Or maybe it’s not the bus—maybe it’s the fact that their lives are, once again, interwoven with the supernatural; dangerous, deadly supernatural. Because, yeah, Stiles may be a pessimist but he’s also often right, and someone is going to die if they don’t find a way out of this situation, this tug of war between two unstoppable powers. A few months ago, he would have wondered why that was always the case: can’t they be an active cause in whatever’s going down in Beacon Hills, for once, instead of the helpless rag doll tugged this way and that by the two enemies? The rag doll is always the one who pays the most in the end, in Stiles’ opinion: it’s simply physics.

Okay, so it’s definitely not the bus.

He tries looking out of the window, but the endless desert landscape doesn’t help: all he sees is that they’re heading back towards Beacon Hills, towards fighting and death and sacrifices. Towards war, if Lydia is right—and of course she’s right.

He tries to glance subtly above his shoulders, to check up on Scott, as he’s done about, oh, thirty thousands time since the previous evening, which, really, was just more proof that he may be a pessimist but at least he has reasons to be. For once, he hates being right.

Scott still smells of gasoline, even after changing his clothes and quickly washing up in the bathroom while Stiles gathered their bags. He used to like the smell: it reminded him of his crappy Jeep and the long afternoons spent fixing it up with his father, before they gave it up as a bad job and just brought it to the shop. Now he feels like he might suffocate if he doesn’t stop breathing it.

It’s worse for Scott himself, but he’s characteristically stoic in the seat behind Stiles. Although—it’s been a while since Stiles felt him move and accidentally knee the back of his seat.

He tries to turn around subtly when a hand on his arm stops him.

“They’re sleeping,” Lydia whispers, handing him a small compact. With the mirror open like that, it’s easy to spy on the seats behind them and to see Allison and Scott, soundly asleep. Their bodies are angled differently, away from each other, but even an outside eye can see the secret yearning in their poses, silently reaching for each other.

It’s infuriating.

“I swear to God,” Stiles mutters under his breath, barely aware that he’s spoken.

“I know.” Lydia rolls her eyes and smiles when he looks at her in surprise. “I want to shake them or lock them in a closet until they work things out.”

“That’s why Seven Minutes in Heaven was invented, I think.”

“Oh definitely—resolve sexual tension, not create it where it didn’t exist before.”

“Don’t forget the crushing humiliation two-thirds of the assembly will feel.”

“How could I?”

Stiles lets out a small laugh, almost a breath.

“I hate this game.” Then he remembers: “Uh, sorry.”

“Mmmm.” Lydia inspects her hair, brushing it between her fingers. It’s a mess, so unlike usual, but Stiles hasn’t been able to get the image out of his head all morning. “That’s how Jackson and I got together.”

“Yeah I know—That’s why—Forget it.”

“I hate this stupid game too.”

Stiles wants to smile, but the victory doesn’t feel as sweet when the casualties are Lydia Martin and her happiness.

Silence falls on them for a while.

“How long to Beacon Hills? I left my book in Allison’s car, I can’t believe it.”

“About six hours,” Stiles says, faux enthusiastic. “You’re going to have a very deep appreciation for bus seats and imitation leather.”

“I’m sweating through my dress,” Lydia deadpans. “And I already spent one night too many on them. That seems unlikely.”

“Good thing you’re not any teams.”

Lydia pretends to count on her fingers.

“I hate sports. The debate team is a bunch of entitled pricks who think their masculinity has to be sacrificed when they’re proven wrong and value their dicks too much for that.”

Stiles waits a beat.

“I thought you were gonna keep going,” he says. “Your tone was very confusing.”

“No, that’s it.”

“Colleges will fight to have you anyway,” he says.

It’s just a throwaway compliment: truth presented in a nice way to give to Lydia when she feels down, a skill Stiles has practiced and perfectioned since middle school. He doesn’t mean anything to come of it other than a small smile on Lydia’s face, the way she stands straighter for a second and lifts her head just so, accepting the praise without saying it. Lydia, Stiles noticed in his never-ending quest to understand her, has two ways of dealing with applause: blunt acceptance of the obvious, a flip of her hair and contempt for the worthless praise; or, when it matters, silent thankfulness that cuts Stiles deeper than blades.

Stiles has long been the butt of the former; he’s recently started to get glimpses of the latter, and he thinks he can never stop wanting more.

Lydia bites her lips instead, and looks down.

“I’ve already received word from Stanford,” she says.

“Lydia, that’s amaz—” Stiles begins automatically. “Wait, what?”

“I followed a two-week course over the summer, yes?” Stiles nods. He remembers the long interruption into what had become their routine, meeting and discussing things they didn’t—still don’t—grasp fully, looking for answers that weren’t there. “I’ll have enough credits to graduate at the end of the year,” she says. “They said they were interested in having me after that.”

Stiles remembers to close his mouth after a while.

“That’s incredible,” he says. “Are you—are you going to take it?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I haven’t said anything. It’s still early, and who knows how I’ll feel at the end of the year?”

“You might get better offers then,” Stiles says. “Not that I’m telling you not to do it! But, uh, that’s not an easy decision.”

Lydia hums. “I want out of this town,” she says.

“I know.”

“That’s the way to do it.”

Stiles does know; he knows it desperately, distantly: he can run to the other side of the country, but as long as his father and the McCalls live here, he won’t be getting out, not really. Lydia, however—if anyone can leave this town behind and spread her wings over the world, it’s her.

Selfishly, he wishes she won’t take the offer. Is it wrong to deprive the world of Lydia Martin to keep her closer to him, where he matters?

“What did your mother say?” he asks instead.

“Nothing. She doesn’t know.” Surprise is fleeting, then Lydia leans closer to him and says: “No one knows and I intend to keep it that way.”

“Are you going to kill me now that you’ve told me?” Stiles jokes weakly, to hide the overwhelming feeling of being Lydia’s confidant.

“There’s enough people dead in this town as it is,” Lydia mutters. She digs her palms in her eyes and rubs, leaving intact the dark circles under her eyes. “Just—please don’t tell anyone.”

“I can keep a secret,” Stiles offers.

“I know.”

She smiles then, and Stiles likes her so helplessly that he returns the gesture, absurd as it is.

“You should sleep,” he says when she doesn’t manage to hide a yawn. “We’ve efficiently ruined the weekend.”

Lydia nods and doesn’t say anything for a long time. Stiles turns back the window, watching her fall asleep through the washed-out reflection on the glass. It feels like spying, or maybe protection. He can’t discern the two, but he knows that after yesterday, the least he can do is watch his friends when they sleep. He’s done it last night too, when they were all spread out on the crackly seats and he couldn’t calm his heart or his nerves. He thinks he might never fully stop doing it.

He doesn’t realize he’s spaced out until he feels a weight on his shoulder. He almost jumps out of his skin when hair tickles his neck; for once, though, his body doesn’t betray him, and he can blink at the curve of Lydia’s cheek with outward calm. She’s slumped all over him, her head fitting right on top of his shoulder, her hair fanning out on his chest. The little breaths she lets out are hot against his neck.

Stiles actually has to bite his fist not to shout or move. He feels a grin stretching around it, but he hides it with his hand, throwing as many glances at Lydia’s sleeping form as at the scenery unfolding by his window.

It’s not perfect: Lydia slumps a bit more on his arm after almost thirty minutes—that’s when his limbs go numb, and his brain kicks in overdrive. Not moving is torture, his arm is cramping, and he’s so thirsty that his head is pounding; unfortunately, the bottle is in his bag at his feet, and he can’t bend down enough to retrieve it.

In the end, he dozes out against the window, the rattling from the road turning his brain to mush. The next pit stop awakens Lydia, and Stiles can feel her sitting up quickly when she realizes how she’s fallen asleep. He wants to turn and tell her he doesn’t mind, that she’s welcome to sleep on his shoulder anytime—really—, wants to ask her if she slept well and enough, wants to turn around and crow with Scott about this one step forward in their friendship.

He pretends to wake up when Scott calls his name, instead, and ignore the knowing look he sends his way.

Now is not the time, he tells himself sternly as he stretches out his legs with relief. Lydia is right: there are too many deaths in Beacon Hills; next to a vengeful Darach and a pack of ruthless alphas, what does Lydia’s head on Stiles’ shoulder mean? It won’t happen again, anyway, and Stiles should just cherish it; so he does, and he pretends he’s not disappointed when Scott drags him to sit next to him when they board again.

Four hours later, they’re back in the familiar parking lot of Beacon Hills high school.

[hihowareyawrites]

Young God - Ch 3

Cross Posted from my AO3

Guzma/Reader, 18+ (this chapter is SFW)

Summary: yet another guzma/reader story where you make him your new roommate and learn about his edgy past while becoming closer. spoilers for ultra sumo i guess since it's after the rainbow rocket arc and that's mentioned a few times.

The trainer across from you recalled his final Pokemon, a fairly powerful Tauros, and you were declared the victor. Maintaining your champion title could be exhausting, but it was satisfying. The past few days your schedule consisted of taking on however many had made it through the elite 4 that day, after waking up and spending a little time with Guzma, when he was awake. Sometimes, you found that he seemed like he could sleep forever, like he was exhausted from just being awake. And sometimes, you woke up to find he was and had already been awake, like he hadn't slept at all and the dark circles under his eyes grew darker. You'd make breakfast for the both of you sometimes, you knew how he took his eggs, and how much he disliked milk, or that he definitely preferred waffles to pancakes.

At night, you would bring home malasadas on your way back from work, and you would watch TV for a while and talk about the people you both knew that you saw on it. Now and again you would find the house just a bit cleaner, and smiled at the idea of Guzma doing anything domestic; your room was always left untouched however. If you didn't know better, you'd say the past few days had become comfortable for you, and you enjoyed the routine you had. You sort of wished it could just stay that way forever. Not that your mom was poor company, but it was nice having someone your own age there- someone you were actively creating a bond with.

You shook the hand of the trainer you defeated, congratulating him on his hard work and reassuring him you enjoyed your battle. When he'd left, you noticed Kukui arrive shortly after. “Hey there Cuz', how you doin?”

“Hi, Professor. I'm well, how are you?”

“Not too shabby. But you should feel a lot better than well! Do you know that was your 100th straight win in defending your title? That's something to be proud of!” He seemed excited for you even. You couldn't believe it had really been that long, had you really beat that many people? You were impressed with even yourself. “And I'm not the only one who thinks so. Really, we might not have made such a successful league if not for you. So, I'm not givin' you a choice, come down to old Hala's tomorrow night, were going to celebrate your success!”

You were a bit taken aback and their appreciation of you, but were happy nonetheless. “Oh, that's so thoughtful of you, I'd love to.”

“Well I wasn't gonna let you say no anyway. And hey, I invited Lillie, Gladion and Hau, they're excited to see you again.” You hadn't seen your friends in some time, and were excited to see how they'd been and what's changed in their lives. “Say about 6 or so, we'll see you there?”

“You got it!” He nodded and turned to leave with his hands in his coat pockets then stopped.

“By the way, why don't you bring Guzma along? I'm sure he could do with some socialization.” You froze, was this his way of saying he knew about your situation? Not that you were ashamed to be friends with Guzma, and it's not like you had some love affair you had to keep secret. Who you saw, romantically or otherwise, was your business after all. Kukui turned to you. “I heard you've been helping my pal out, he's not such a bad guy, especially without that Team Skull nonsense. I'm sure you'll re-acclimate him to society.” He flashed you a signature grin before making his exit. You breathed a heavy sigh of relief, glad that Kukui wasn't here to judge you. Then again, he and Guzma were childhood friends, you were glad that he hadn't lost faith in his friend after so long.

You were excited to get home and tell Guzma that you'd be going to Hala's celebration for you, and that he was invited. Even though he didn't show it, you could tell that his self esteem suffered further when people treated him like the plague. You hoped knowing he was wanted and welcome would make him feel better.

Carrying your malasadas in you found Guzma giving his Golisopod pokebeans as it preformed various tricks. You bore witness to its attempt to do what you assumed was the signature Team Skull pose but was uncertain how to with so many arms. Guzma laughed at it and gave it a bean anyway. “If I had any uniforms left you'd definitely pull it off.” The bug Pokemon munched on the bean in his hand quickly but perked its head when it noticed you softly close the door behind you. It hurried over to you to greet you. Golisopod had become fond of you quickly, and you soon realized that much like it's trainer, it only appeared intimidating. It nuzzled you affectionately and chirped.

“I'm glad to see you too.” The large bug Pokemon stepped aside and you watched Guzma drop onto your couch and prop a leg on your table. You'd criticize his manners if you didn't find this completely predictable of him.

“Welcome back.” So he did have some manners after all. “ 'Nother successful day of defending your title?” You smiled and sat beside him, handing him a malasada.

“Thats right, so successful in fact, they're having a party in my honor.” You gave him a wide smile. You had become disillusioned with it before, but your excitement for competing had returned. “Tomorrow night.” Guzma tore a small piece of the bread in his hand and offered it to Golisopod, who ate it delicately in his palm.

“That's exciting, guess you won't be throwin' any matches anytime soon.”

“Yeah, I got my work cut out for me.” You took a bite of your own and debated how to invite him.

“Guess I'm fendin' for myself tomorrow.” He patted Golispod's head affectionately. You swallowed your bite and leaned towards him a bit.

“What are you talking about? Of course you're coming with me.” He made a noise of both appall and surprise.

“Are you crazy? Ain't no way I'm goin' to no party, you can count me out.” He took a bite of the malasada and turned his nose to the air. You wondered if he really didn't want to go.

“Come on, it'll be fun. Hau, Lillie and Gladion will be there, and Kukui even said you're invited. You'll have a great time, I'm sure everyone will be happy to see you.” That was maybe a bit of a lie, but you didn't think people would be unhappy to see him. He swallowed hard.

“Uh, in case you forgot, I ain't got a great reputation around here, 'less you forgot why I'm at your place to begin with.” You could tell that even though he was acting as though he didn't want to go, he was more worried about the possible rejection from others if he did. Truly beyond his exterior, he really was a lot more sensitive than you or anyone else had given him credit for. You contemplated for a moment, then smiled at him again.

“If you go with me, they can't possibly say anything. The guest of the guest of honor is special too, right? It'll work out fine.” You realized you were just short of asking him to go as your date, but you wouldn't be too embarrassed if he was. “Just come on my arm, and you'll be safe.” You gave him a thumbs up and he seemed embarrassed at the idea of literally being on your arm.

“I'll think about it.” That was better than nothing. With that you had given him the ok to consider it and finished your malasada, telling him you would be back in a bit after you made something hot to drink. Carrying in two cups of tapu cocoa, you found he looked rather serious when you came back, finger at his chin and eyes narrowed, but not looking at anything in particular. You set the cup down in front of him gently and he seemed to notice it but his expression remained unchanged. “Hey... Lusamine, she's not gonna be there is she?”

You hadn't thought of that. Lusamine and Guzma had an... interesting relationship, to say the least. “I don't think so, she's probably busy. Why, do you not want to see her? You seemed pretty determined to save her a while back, I thought maybe you were friends.” The corner of his mouth twitched and he looked sort of uncomfortable.

“It ain't that. It's true back then she acknowledged I was strong or capable or whatever, but she didn't really.” He reached for the hot mug on the table, seemingly uncaring to how hot the cup was in his hand. “I wanted to save her to return the favor, but that don't mean I wanna see her again, at least not now. I felt real used by her.” His grip on the cup tightened and for a moment you thought it would shatter right in his hand. His control of his anger was a drastic improvement from the past, but you could tell if you argued with him that might not be the case.

“It's good you recognize that at least...” You looked at your own cup on the table, watched the steam rise from it. “I didn't really know what kind of relationship you had with her,” you laughed light heartedly. “here I thought maybe she was a cougar or something.” He whipped to look at you so fast some of the hot liquid splashed onto his hand and he hurriedly set the cup back down on the table to shake his slightly burnt fingers. Back then you really had thought their relationship was more intimate, but it had become pretty clear she didn't see him that way, and more so like someone she could just push around to do her dirty work. You felt bad he was being manipulated, but he was able to come out of it mostly unscathed, and you were glad for that.

“She ain't my type.” He stated, opening and closing his fist to test the feeling. “I mean, sure she's hot n all, but that tall leggy look ain't for me.” You felt a little victorious, that maybe you could win him over with your shorter feminine frame. “I sorta had other feelins' round then, but definitely not towards her.” You felt shy to think about it, but part of you wished he would look at you that way, with admiration. Whomever it was his feelings had been towards, you thought them lucky.

“Well, I don't think you need to worry about that. She wont be there, I'll bet on it.” He smirked.

“You got yourself a deal then. I'll hit it up.” He seemed hesitant but reached for the now much cooler cup and took a sip from it. “Gotta make my grand re-entrance sometime.” You smiled at him confidently.

“I'm glad you're starting to see things my way.” He raised an eyebrow at your confident beam and leaned in to look you in the eye, in his signature way.

“Do I get the privilege of actually walkin' in on your arm or were you bluffin?” You felt your cheeks heat up at the limited proximity and his implication, you swallowed and forced yourself to make eye contact with his gray eyes. That really would send a message to your friends, the champion of Alola walking in literally arm in arm with the former leader of Team Skull, but part of you wondered if he was actually gutsy enough to do it.

“Y-yeah I mean, if that's what you want, I'm not embarrassed to be seen with you.” You held out your arm to him. “We can even practice, go on.” He seemed almost surprised at your answer and pulled away.

“Don't need no practice, save it for tomorrow night babe.” You retracted your arm and laughed softly, thinking you called his bluff. “Ain't it late for you? Normally you get to bed round this hour don't you?” He motioned to your analog clock, showing it was around 10 PM.

“Jeeze, I'm not old I can stay up later... I just normally have to get up early. But I should get to bed if I wanna get stuff done before the party...” You stood up and offered to take his now empty mug along with your own, and he obliged. “Get some rest, tomorrow you get to meet the outside world again.”

“You don't gotta tell me twice.” You rinsed the cups and walked to your room. In the hallway, you stopped as you opened your door, and said 'goodnight' under your breath, knowing it wasn't loud enough for him to hear you.

[aion-rsa]

Promising Young Woman: Director Emerald Fennell Breaks Down the Ending

https://ift.tt/35HSC4T

Contains spoilers for Promising Young Woman

“Where does the pleasure stop and the truth begin?” poses Emerald Fennell, director of Promising Young Woman, a highly distinctive rape-revenge thriller starring Carey Mulligan which feels like a total subversion of the subgenre. Fennell’s debut is an incredibly contemporary, candy-colored fable about a former medical student, Cassie, who has dropped out of University and instead pursues a secret second life as an avenging angel, feigning extreme drunkenness until inevitably a ‘good guy’ picks her up and takes back to his home. 

It’s very dark subject matter painted in bright, engaging strokes, and an undeniably entertaining film that talks about big things. It’s an approach that was always important to Fennell.

“I think we’re so used to seeing very serious things discussed in a very serious way, very gray, very drab,” she says, chatting to Den of Geek on Zoom from London, in front of a Promising Young Woman poster featuring Cassie wearing a multicolored wig and carrying a surgical kit. “But that’s not how I discuss things. It’s not how I communicate with people. It’s not how me and my friends talk about stuff. We use humor mostly to protect ourselves and to communicate the things that we find really difficult. So it felt to me like the only way I would feel comfortable talking about this stuff would be if it was accessible and if it felt conversational, almost in a funny way. That it felt like a safe place to be. A beautiful, warm, cozy place to be, until it wasn’t anymore, but it was too late.”

That’s a pretty good description of the film, which blends humor and romance in with its brutal realities, with Mulligan giving a captivating performance as a woman who is, on the face of it, holding her life together, but behind the scenes is walking a very dangerous path.

When a key figure from the past resurfaces, Cassie’s mission takes on a new focus – she is out to punish the people responsible for a horrific act committed against her best friend Nina, hunting down those that were complicit in their inactivity, as well as those directly guilty. 

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“The specific ‘Nina quest’ is actually quite separate to what she’s been doing. She has been deliberately not looking at that,” says Fennell. No longer just humiliating the random men who try to take advantage of what they think is a drunk woman, Cassie’s actions become focused and specific, targeting the University Dean (Connie Britton) who didn’t take Nina’s claims seriously, the female friend (Alison Brie) who victim-blamed Nina and the lawyer (Alfred Molina) who made her case disappear. This mission eventually leads to a confrontation with the man who assaulted her friend and changed the course of Cassie and Nina’s lives forever.

The ending is bleak and is likely to have audiences debating long after the credits roll. 

To recap (or for anyone who actively wants to have the end spoiled), with the help of Alison Brie’s Madison, Cassie gets hold of a video of the night Nina was raped. In it she discovers that her boyfriend, and her hope for redemption, Ryan (Bo Burnham) was a witness and did nothing. She confronts him and forces him to tell her the location of the stag do, being held for Nina’s attacker Al (GLOW’s Chris Lowell). 

Nina dresses in a nurse’s uniform fetish gear and brightly coloured wig and pretends to be a stripper, drugging his friends and taking Al upstairs into a private room and cuffing him to the bed. Here, we understand, she plans to carve Nina’s name into his chest.

It’s the first time she has used violence to carry out her revenge and it ends badly. Al overpowers Cassie and suffocates her to death. It’s not the glorious retribution we want for Cassie and Nina. But it’s probably what would happen.

“I think the thing is, I was writing something that felt very real and honest to me,” says Fennell. “And what felt very real and honest to me was that women very rarely resort to violence. And there’s a reason that they don’t, and the reason is that it’s not safe.

“So no matter how much we crave and need catharsis, no matter how much we need to draw a line under all of this stuff, we also need to be honest. I think about what statistically happens. And it felt like the only honest outcome and also the only one that wouldn’t let any of us off the hook. I tried so hard deliberately the whole way through the movie, not to lean into the easy route, which is what we all want desperately – the pleasure zone.”

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Though Cassie’s story ends in tragedy she does at least get one hard jab back from the grave. Using the video of Nina’s assault, via repentant lawyer Jordan she’s able to exact some revenge by scheduling a series of text messages in advance to the guests at Al’s wedding and telling Jordan that if she goes missing, to alert police as to where she was going on the night of the stag do. Cassie’s burned body is found, Al’s wedding guests all see the video of Nina’s rape and Al is arrested for Cassie’s murder.

Not cathartic as such but a final way for Cassie to fight back. Though she’s made a back up plan, Fennell says she doesn’t think Cassie is expressly on a suicide mission.

“I didn’t want the ending to feel like it was fixed when it’s not fixed. It’s profoundly not fixed,” she says. “I think that once I was in the room, writing it, really there was no other outcome. But she’s also a very wise character who obviously had a sense that there was a chance that things might go wrong and made a contingency plan for if it did. Cassie’s clever and she’s meticulous, but she’s also at the end of her tether.”

Promising Young woman explores different kinds of complicity, privilege and abuse and so the guilty parties in the movie are not painted as monsters. “This is a movie about ‘nice people’,” says Fennell, who cast highly likeable actors in key roles very deliberately.

“These people think that they’re good, everyone who I grew up with thought that they were good,” she says. “So what happens when somebody shows you that you’re not good? How do you feel about that? It’s important that we as an audience also identify with them too, and are sympathetic to them. That’s where it gets so sticky because this stuff is very, very rarely clear cut. It’s very rare that they’re monsters. When it’s difficult is when it’s somebody you like and respect or somebody you fancy that does something like this.”

Burnham’s character is the epitome of this, a guy who is sensitive and sweet, who tries to understand Cassie and gives her space when she’s struggling. He’s good looking, he’s a doctor who cares for his patients. But he doesn’t actually care enough to do something or say something during Nina’s attack. He is also crucially unrepentant and still attends Al’s wedding even after being confronted by Cassie. Whether he’ll face any kind of criminal charge for his complicity is unclear but the circulation of the video means that at least his involvement has been exposed.

It’s an ending which might prove divisive but Fennell is keen that her movie should provoke conversation as well as being entertaining.

“The best experiences for me have always been when there’s been a bit of an argument afterwards,” she says. “Because the films that I’ve seen recently that I really remember and think about all the time, things like Midsommar, Get Out and Force Majeure, they’re so fascinating because everyone feels different. I saw Midsommar with somebody who’s like, ‘I don’t think the ex-boyfriend’s that bad.’ And I was like, well, ‘You’re climbing in a bear suit. Get in the fire…’”

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

A whole host of Promising Young Woman’s characters deserve a similar punishment and if Fennell’s ending doesn’t give us the satisfying closure we might have expected it all just adds to the debate.

Promising Young Woman is available to stream in the US on January 15. In the UK it will be released on February 12.

The post Promising Young Woman: Director Emerald Fennell Breaks Down the Ending appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[fuzz1912]

Return of the Penultimate Jedi

Thoughts on the film calling itself Star Wars: Episode VIII. Only for those who have seen the film already as there are well and truly spoilers ahead - consider yourself warned. May be worth reading my pre-screening thoughts for some context.

Everything you just said is wrong

I’ve seen glimpses of the usual batch of fawning reviews, which utterly perplex me. Did we see the same movie?

My quick take on leaving the theatre was: what the hell did I just watch? I’ll say this for The Force Awakens - by hewing to the structure and story beats of A New Hope, at least it made sense (even if it seemed pointless). I can’t say the same for this one - I couldn’t even succinctly describe the plot, let alone determine what it was actually about. It really didn’t answer many of the questions I raised in my pre-screening post, though I have to give some credit - it wasn’t simply a rehash of The Empire Strikes Back as I had anticipated; it was just as much a rehash of Return of the Jedi as well.

Let’s get what I genuinely liked out of the way, because it is far outweighed by the rest: as a whole it was enjoyable enough, and had some amusing moments and clever dialogue. As I was reminded by one of our viewing party, the starship battles and some other action sequences were actually pretty good to watch in and of themselves. I appreciated some of the low-effort banter, mostly from Poe and Finn. Benecio Del Toro played a terrific cameo as the morally ambiguous Code Breaker, echoing Empire’s Lando Calrissian. No matter how much scenery they chew, I also enjoy watching Domhnall Gleeson and Laura Dern perform. And at face value, I always enjoy seeing Yoda (but more on that later). John Williams’ music is always a treat, though once again not to level of his preceding scores - there were some questionable instances of using some of his older leitmotifs, though Rey’s theme is starting to grow on me. I also enjoyed the one instance of clearly ripping off the prequels in the opening shot, mirroring the battle reveal that opened Revenge of the Sith.

I’ve got a bad feeling about this

I mentioned in my pre-screening post that there’s nothing wrong with reusing good structure, but that beat-for-beat repeating a story is a waste of creative potential. Awakens did both - but I’m not even really sure what the overall structure of this film was supposed to be. It certainly reused elements of structure from Empire and Return (thanks to the ridiculous naming of this film, I can no longer refer to that film simply as ‘Jedi’), and quite a number of nearly-identical scenes and shots - but as to the overall structure of the film itself, I’m not sure it does have an easily definable beginning-middle-end.

The film is long; really long. Much longer than it needs to be even within the parameters it appears to set for itself. I couldn’t pin down what those parameters were while watching it or upon leaving the theatre but with a little bit of rest behind me I’d say it’s a very slow chase movie and a war of attrition. It has the former in common with Empire, though I’m not sure what the point of the latter is (more on that later). In Empire, only a group of our heroes were being chased whereas here it is the entire Resistance (such as it is). And there was at least one act too many within that slow chase, though I hesitate to pin down which was the most superfluous part - I suspect the ‘out of weapons range and only x hours of fuel’ bit or the ultimately-redundant side trip to the Casino world. There were just too many stops and starts, both within the main conflict and the personal stories (involving Luke and Rey, Rey and Kylo, Finn and Rose, and Poe).

As I mentioned above, the initial acts predictably modelled themselves on Empire - but towards the middle (what I optimistically thought might be the end) it started to throw in parts of Return as well, essentially mashing the two together. The Resistance was being chased out of a base by the First Order like the Rebellion, though the epic ground battle was moved towards the end instead of at the start. Rey went to train with Luke, who grumpily declined for a while like Yoda did to him. After finally relenting, he immediately found Rey straying too close to the dark and finding her own ‘dark side cave’ like Luke did on Dagobah; following which Rey decides that she is better served going after Kylo Ren than bothering to finish her training. Then we skip to the Return bits, with Kylo taking her straight to Snoke where she is tortured and he turns on his master. So far, so similar.

But while the final act resembled Empire’s Battle of Hoth, Luke’s encounter with Kylo echoed both the Vader/Obi Wan duel and Yoda’s death from A New Hope and Return, respectively. The conclusion showing the final survivors of the Resistance on the Millennium Falcon was a less epic recall of a similar but more emotional ending to Empire, but it was followed by a very un-Star Wars epilogue showing a random young (apparently Force-sensitive) slave kid looking to the stars as Luke once did. Obviously having crammed two films worth of reused plot into one, there’s potential for Disney to go a completely different way in the final film, and those seeds seem to have been sown here. But where is that exactly? Defeating Kylo and the First Order, or what’s left of them? To what end, now that Snoke is gone and Kylo is already conflicted?

The State of the Galaxy

A number of the questions I posed in my earlier post coming out of Awakens were essentially brushed aside and dismissed in the opening crawl - despite the film seemingly picking up almost directly where Awakens left off, the loss of Starkiller Base hasn’t set the First Order back at all, rather they are now the dominant power in the galaxy. The Republic, whose only apparent losses were localised to several planets in the Hosnian system, is gone and all that is left is a measly few ships in the Resistance. How the hell did all that happen?

All of the work our heroes did in the original trilogy and the intervening 30 years has been snuffed out in one line of explanatory text. Despite the theme of this film essnetially being about ‘letting the past die’, I really struggle to get my head around how they’ve done this - essentially they are telling us not to look behind the curtain or think too hard (or at all) about the story world (even that established in Awakens) and just accept that these are the new starting conditions for the story. It hasn’t been earned or explained in any way, so they may as well have just hit the reset button completely and done a complete reboot (or told a different story, in a different world).

So any hope of discovering more about who was running the Republic instead of Leia, why or how the First Order was able to usurp power from a galaxy-wide government, is deemed unnecessary. How the First Order itself is maintaining that stranglehold is even less clear - while its “Supreme Leader” is galavanting around on a star destroyer chasing three measly Resistance ships, we see no Governors or Moffs or anything else to suggest the massive bureaucratic structure behind such an organisation (though we do get thrown the tiny morsel that apparently they finance their wars off the back of slavery).

Trivial Pursuit - the First Order slowly chases down the Resistance

It’s important to remember that even in Empire, Darth Vader’s taskforce was only ever a small part of the larger Imperial forces (such that he needed to make special arrangements to contact the Emperor at the capital) and that the Rebellion clearly had a larger fleet that was not present on its Hoth base that they finally rendezvoused with at the end of the film. However, we are supposed to believe that all that’s left of the Resistance (and, by extension, Republic) military - despite having at least three remaining flag rank officers - is three capital star ships, a handful of fighters, and a bunch of transports. Similarly, the best the First Order can mount in order to take down this rump is a dreadnought with a comical weakness, a few star destroyers that can’t move fast enough at sublight speed to engage them, or enough fighters to overwhelm them. Could they not have bothered to have a few more ships on either side, making the scale of the eventual losses seem more significant? This does not feel like an epic conflict - more like a minor brush fire. For it to lead to an incredibly convenient evacuation to a nearby planet that just happened to house an old rebel base - of which Rebellion leader Leia seemed to have no memory - was quite the cop out.

Given their continuing incompetence, I’m not sure how much we really care that the Resistance was whittled down to nothing over the course of this film. They don’t seem to be particularly good at resisting anything, and have a very odd hierarchy. As much as a fan as I am of Laura Dern, her character seemed to exist only as a foil for Poe - and also highlighting the Byzantine rank and command structure (Generals outranking Admirals? Commanders being demoted to Captains, without any intermediate ranks?) of the tiny Resistance. Having her play a human character instead of another species also underlined the Resistance’s human dominance, a missed opportunity to show a point of difference against the xenophobic First Order.

Why was it more important for the Resistance to evacuate the people on the ships instead of fighting to the end or following Finn’s plan to try and escape? Were they critical leaders who could gather a larger political or military force (doesn’t seem like it), or merely a small batch of survivors? What do they hope to achieve with so few people and almost no ships? Can they really put up any more resistance, or does it even matter now that they’re all gone and it appears that they’ve put all of their hopes in the oppressed peoples around the galaxy like the Force-sensitive child at the end? 

While I was impressed that the Resistance finally seemed to have acquired a new type of bomber that wasn’t a B-Wing or Y-Wing, they certainly still had the usual X-Wings and now A-Wing clones. Similarly, the First Order continues to be slavish in its imitation of the former Empire; other than the Dreadnought, its Super Star Destroyers, TIE Interceptors, AT-ATs, AT-STs and shuttles continue to be more of the same art direction (one pines for the evolutionary variety of ships in the prequels). I was also perplexed to see enemy fighters being able to so easily penetrate capital ship hangars - shouldn’t they first have to take down particle shields that are supposed to keep them out as in literally every other Star Wars film? Notwithstanding of course the contrived inability of the First Order destroyers or fighters from being able to speed up and finish the job.

That said, the opening part of the battle was quite fun - Poe’s piloting skills are always a delight, and while the bomber run on the Dreadnought was a little predictable it was nevertheless engaging. The destruction of Snoke’s star destroyer, using the effect of silence pioneered in Attack of the Clones was breathtaking (though if it were that simple, why didn’t the Resistance sacrifice one of their other ships that was inevitably going to be destroyed the same way?). Even Kylo’s attack on the Resistance cruiser and his hesitation at taking down his mother was quite well done - though somewhat undermined by the fact that when his wingmen nevertheless took the shot and took out the bridge, something truly bizarre happened.

It’s a bird, it’s a plane...

For reasons beyond Carrie Fisher’s untimely passing, it would have made a great deal of sense for Leia to die in this film. Much as Qui Gon, Obi Wan and Yoda before them, losing a mentor or leader gives our protagonists a chance at taking up the mantle to become heroes in their own right (we did get a little bit of this, but more on that later). But the moment of Kylo choosing not to take his mother out was a really great display of the conflict within him, and it being ultimately futile was a great note to end on.

However, despite being given the perfect opportunity to see Leia off, we instead learned that she is not only a Jedi descendant but also a Kryptonian superhero - unaffected by a devastating explosion or the vacuum of space, and able to fly through it with no means of propulsion (this time in defiance of Newton’s second law) back into the ship. What was the point of her surviving this, and if there was one, why have this attack take place at all? She could have easily fulfilled the role played by Laura Dern’s Admiral in this tale - instead of her, having Leia sacrificing herself by ramming the cruiser into Snoke’s star destroyer would have been a sacrifice worthy of the character and make an already amazing moment incredibly moving. And how exactly do they intend to deal with Carrie Fisher’s absence in the final film given they have ruled out using a CGI double? Hopefully not through another dismissive line of text in the crawl. 

The Cunning Plan - Finn, Poe and Rose

A staple of Star Wars is the protagonists devising a cunning plan to escape a dire predicament. In this instance, Finn and Poe (together with newcomer Rose) through some technobabble devise a way to stop the First Order flagship from tracking them through lightspeed (a development that didn’t seem to make sense in the absence of using any tracking devices - so novel that even Snoke is surprised by it). So once again we returned to the well of the protagonists infiltrating the enemy castle to enable escape, right out of A New Hope - and the whole endeavour, including the side trip to the Casino world, proved to be utterly unnecessary given the actual plan put in place by Laura Dern’s admiral. 

Nevertheless, seeing these characters work together was enjoyable. Poe’s clashes with Leia and the Admiral were fun, and his short-lived mutiny fulfilling. Rose’s backstory as an exploited slave for First Order weapons dealers - as well as her connection to her heroically sacrificed sister - was a nice touch, if not particularly relevant to the greater story arc. Though Finn’s constant need to get back to Rey started to feel jarring, it was good to see him step up with Rose and become a hero in his own right. His battle with Phasma was a highlight, as was his aborted suicide run against the turbolaser - leading to a pretty effective aphorism from Rose about the point of the Resistance not being about fighting things you hate, but saving people you love (more poignant given her own sister’s sacrifice). It actually made me think of young Anakin’s innocent line in The Phantom Menace about one of the problems in the galaxy being that people don’t help each other - naive, but ultimately true.

Another part of what makes Star Wars an epic space opera is traveling to different worlds and encountering different environments and species - which was one of the issues I had with Awakens, which spent far too long on and around Jakku. This film was even worse in that regard - other than the brief departure from the base at the start and the final battle on the salt planet, the vast majority of the film was spent about two starships. Finn and Rose’s jaunt to the Casino planet to retrieve the code breaker was a nice aside, but felt forced in there for variety and as such was a little perplexing. In the middle of a heated - if protracted - battle, they were able to just pop out for a few hours to the specific place suggested by Maz Kanata over a peculiar FaceTime communication and find not one but two people with the relevant skills. Showing the hardship suffered by those propping up the lavish lifestyle of the war profiteers was a good (though perhaps insufficient) way to lay the groundwork for a wider revolution to come in the next film. Benecio Del Toro’s double-dealing Code Breaker himself was amusing and pretty effective, even if he was a little too omniscient - although this provided some very interesting context when he pointed out that the Resistance was also dealing with the weapons merchants, thereby similarly morally compromised as the First Order.

I’m not going to lie, there was one cameo I was secretly hoping to see on such a world dedicated to glamour and debauchery - and that was from our beloved smooth con man, Lando Calrissian. But not bringing him back was probably the better thing to do given the new ground they should have been covering in these movies (though the same should have applied to many of the other returning characters).

The Ways of the Force - Luke and Rey

We certainly got one forgotten hero back: Luke Skywalker. The final scene of Awakens seemed to have been reshot in much different lighting conditions and reproduced here - again very odd for Star Wars. While Luke finally appeared to have developed an uncharacteristic gruff sense of humour to offset his earnestness, he appeared very single-minded in his desire to stay away from everyone and everything - leading us to believe that whatever spooked him is truly terrifying. It’s somewhat disappointing them to learn that it was set off by a rather ambiguous and unlikely event: Luke appearing to want to murder his nephew, and Ben burning the house down in response.

Though flashbacks were used briefly in Awakens, there were three flashbacks of this particular event from different points of view (clearly influenced by Kurosawa’s Rashomon). Despite Kurosawa’s influence on Star Wars, the flashback technique has never really been used in any Star Wars movie, so seeing so many of them here gave this very much a different feel. Historical information has usually been filtered through a series of unreliable narrators - showing / reenacting that on screen didn’t seem quite right, even if it may have been more necessary given the specific instances shown of Luke and Kylo’s different interpretations of this moment as his fall to the dark side (if it was even that - certainly Luke appeared to suggest he was already too late).

As to the event itself, what the hell was Luke thinking creeping on his nephew like that? Surely if he harbored any misgivings about his potential dark side there would have been other ways to approach it other than standing over him in his sleep with an ignited lightsaber apparently ready to strike? How has that sort of potential misunderstanding ever gone for other members of his family? And given his family history, surely it would have been at the forefront of his mind well before he started training his powerful nephew. How exactly could Snoke have gotten to Ben before that point if he was exclusively under Luke’s tutelage? For Ben’s part, surely there could have been some attempt to understand what was going on before perceiving it as an attack and thereby turning dark and slaughtering a bunch of his fellow students? At least Anakin Skywalker was given a few steps along the way to his turn to the dark side - Ben Solo seems to have just made the decision in an instant due to a critical misunderstanding.

Luke’s island hideaway is apparently an ancient Jedi temple of some sorts - complete with a dark side cave like Dagobah and ancient Jedi texts - taken care of by alien nuns and populated by cute little creatures called Porgs, who in fact serve no other purpose other than to look cute. He is cantankerous in his initial rebuffs to Rey, much as Yoda was towards him. Despite Rey’s incessantly on-message pleas, it takes R2D2 playing a cheap trick on him to persuade Luke to start training Rey.  His puzzlement at who Rey is though is something that continues to echo through to us as well. Something about Rey is clearly special, and yet we learn that she is in fact a nobody.

Despite some repetition of Yoda and Obi Wan’s explanation of the nature of the Force, Rey’s common-ness dovetails nicely with Luke’s view that the Force does not necessarily require the existence of the Jedi; it just IS. Of course, Rey promptly exceeds all of his expectations and he gets spooked again, sensing a similar potential for darkness within her. His view that the Jedi should end and that he would die on the planet seems prophetic, though at odds with one of his better lines in the film when he first tells Rey, then Kylo, that everything they just said is wrong (and promptly lists off the reasons why). Despite constant references to himself being the last of his kind and Rey being a nobody, he does seem to consider her to be the last Jedi.

Rey herself seems driven by a desire to find out who her parents were, despite the fact that apparently she already knows that they were nobodies who sold her into slavery. She is fixated on bringing Luke back to help save the Resistance single-handedly (seems a big ask given the circumstances) until she develops a strange connection with Kylo (more on that below). Once she concludes that Luke is going nowhere, she very quickly turns on him and turns her attention elsewhere. Of course she goes exploring the dark side cave, which this time around seems to have infinite mirror that just shows her herself. Unlike the cave on Dagobah which clearly depicted Luke’s fear that he would become like his father, this one simply tells Rey that she is her parents - or, I guess, that who her parents are doesn’t matter. I’m not sure how this is supposed to lead to any critical development of her character. She promptly decides to leave in the hope of turning Kylo back from the dark side (haven’t heard that one before either).

In her absence, Luke decides he should burn down (not quite sure why) this particular temple and in the process is revisited by the Force ghost of Yoda. Now I absolutely love Yoda, and missed his presence and wisdom in the last film. That said, there were obvious plot reasons why he had no place there, and I query whether or not he was really needed here either. This is very much the cheeky Minch Yoda that Luke met in his twlight on Dagobah, not the wise Grand Master of the Jedi Order that he was for the bulk of his lifetime. As such, he is mischievous and and doesn’t appear to have much of substance to share with Luke, other than somehow physically conjuring up flames to complete Luke’s attempted arson. Yoda echoes the overarching theme of the film of leaving the past behind and dismisses the value of ancient Jedi texts that Luke considers preserving, which of course we don’t really have any knowledge of or connection to anyway. But my biggest issue is that the Yoda on screen is in fact a CGI version of the puppet from Return, not the CGI version of the Yoda we have come to know. This seems to incorporate all of the bad things about the puppet - namely its obviously-manipulated mouth movements - without the real puppet’s charm or the CGI Yoda’s familiarity. It just totally took me out of the moment, which I didn’t think was possible with my favorite character in the saga.

As a reliable deus ex machina, Luke appeared to return to say good bye to Leia on the salt planet and to distract Kylo while the Resistance survivors escaped. Seeing a wizened old Luke as a full-fledged Master brazenly stare down an army and take on his former protege was pretty badass, despite the laboriousness of parts of the duel. Of course he wasn’t really there, he was using the new Force projection power that only appeared to exist between Rey and Kylo (see below) to create an image of himself across the galaxy. The effort to maintain this was so great that it was exhaustion, not a lightsaber, that finally defeated the great Luke Skywalker. I’m still not quite convinced that this was a worthy end to the Hero of the Rebellion, the Son of Suns, and the Chosen One.

The Turning - Rey, Kylo and Snoke

Luke’s final appearance built on the odd trans-spatial Force connection between Rey and Kylo established throughout the film. This sort of Force projection is something we have not seen before, and is an interesting development in our understanding of the Force itself. Previously the furthest tangible reach of the Force was localised within a star system, or the less tangible when Yoda could feel the dissociated pain of losing his fellow Jedi as the Clones enacted Order 66 around the galaxy. Now it appears Force users (read: anyone, according to this film) can converse with others in some sort of quasi-virtual reality across the span of light years. 

Of course the initial connection between Rey and Kylo is apparently created and manipulated by Snoke - who probably could have just as easily used it to acquire whatever information he wanted from Rey about locating and destroying Luke. But it allowed for the relationship between Rey and Kylo to develop - with each of them unable to get out of the other’s head, Rey stops seeing Kylo as a monster and starts to get a glimpse of the conflicted soul within, while Kylo no longer finds her an upstart threat but a friend and partner whose humble ancestry doesn’t matter to him. Whatever Snoke’s original objective was in creating this link, it ended up binding the two together for some possibly higher purpose.

That purpose was certainly not to defeat Snoke, which was pathetically easy. For someone who is apparently the most powerful being in the galaxy, Snoke is amazingly stupid enough not to see that the connection he established between the two would lead to his death - which was way too similar to the downfall of Palpatine in Return, right down to some of the dialogue between them. Rather unsatisfyingly, his death came before we got any context as to who Snoke himself is, and how he ascended to power. Where was he during the rise of Palpatine and the Empire, and why was he not drawn into that particular conflict? Why did they use the Emperor’s / Sith theme during Snoke’s interrogation of Rey if there truly is no connection between them? Snoke’s death also led to some exciting dueling between Rey and Kylo fighting alongside each other against Snoke’s red guards in the throne room, though one wonders what exactly the guards were defending once Snoke was killed (certainly their martial arts demonstrations were way over the top - the sort of thing that Indiana Jones aka Han Solo would grow tired of and respond to with a quick blaster shot to the chest). Shouldn’t they have proclaimed allegiance to Kylo as the new Supreme Leader? Is there some question over the order of succession, as General Hux intimated (of course, again raising the question of where the rest of the First Order’s power structure is).

The interesting part of the relationship between Rey and Kylo is that they both continue to see themselves as part of each other. The moment where Kylo offers Rey his hand in partnership was well played (if too similar to the Vader’s  offers to Padme and Luke), but unsastifyingly resolved - it would have opened up some really interesting possibilities if Rey had committed and joined him. However, despite them return to opposing factions, their connection appears unbroken and their conflict seems to be centered around Kylo wanting to destroy his past (and thereby, the Resistance) and Rey wanting to save it. How that can be resolved, at least on a personal level, will hopefully be the highlight of the next film.

All of this has happened before, all of this will happen again

So where will the next film go? As at the end of this film, we know there is basically no physical Resistance left, but that the ‘seeds’ of revolution have been sowed in the minds of the oppressed peoples of the galaxy (well, on one planet at least), and that there is nothing special about who can access the Force. On the other hand, Snoke is no longer leader of the First Order and instead we have Kylo Ren, who we know to be heavily conflicted and still intimately connected to Rey. His only malicious motivation seems to be to eliminate the past and move beyond it, which has somewhat been achieved with Luke’s passing (and inevitably Leia’s if they don’t find a way to bring her back). What reason does he have to keep in place the First Order’s oppressive power structure? He seems to have been motivated initially by revenge, not a thirst for power. How can he possibly keep such an organisation together, and why do any of the servants of the First Order owe him any loyalty they may have had to Snoke? Perhaps we will finally meet these Knights of Ren that he leads (presumably those of Luke’s students he chose not to slaughter).

Given past experience, I expect all of these concerns to be brushed away again, replaced by a fairly simplistic good versus evil, underdog versus behemoth, redemption tale that pays lip service to the story that came before it without actually advancing it to a logical conclusion. And lots of humorous banter.

*Information many Bothans died for

A few asides: 

Obviously, there are many current political allusions one can draw out of this film, which is a staple of Star Wars across the ages. I haven’t dwelt on them because the issues they describe are supposed to be universally relevant throughout history. 

We learn at the conclusion that Poe and Rey have never met before. Um, what about after the Starkiller Base Battle before she left to find Luke? Did they not have time then? This moment was clearly designed to be cute, just as were the inclusion of the Porgs and Crystal Wolves, but ultimately seemed redundant.

Threepio no longer has a red arm, so one wonders what the point of that reference was in Awakens? Of course, if this film directly followed that one as Finn’s recovery and Rey’s encounter with Luke suggest, where did he get time to repaint or replace it?

Luke refers to the Emperor as “Darth Sidious”. When did anyone who knew Palpatine’s Sith name ever tell Luke what it was? The only survivors who knew were Yoda, Obi Wan and Vader, all of whom never used that name in the original trilogy (primarily because it hadn't been thought of until the prequels were made). 

Finally, I can’t remember anyone uttering the iconic “bad feeling about this” catchphrase; I hope I just missed it, but I’ve heard others say the same. If no one says the line, can it really be a Star Wars film at all?

[victorluvsalice]

AU Thursday: That Coffee Shop AU -- So Call Me Maybe

Found myself inspired again regarding the Coffee Shop AU my friend @dont-offend-the-bees came up with! I was curious about how that first phone call post-napkin number might go down, so -- here. Enjoy! (Under the cut because it’s kinda long)

Hmmm. . . .

Alice stood in front of the mirror contemplatively, examining herself in her Siren dress. "You're harder to puzzle out than I first thought," she informed it. "I mean, the jellyfish-like underskirt is just a start. Where am I going to find just the right shades of green and pink? And get them to fade into each other? How am I going to make the scales for the middle? How about the fish head on the back? And just what am I meant to do about the bits that glow?"

"LEDs sewn in should work," her reflection replied, holding up the skirt to examine the shimmering stripes more closely. "And the scales can be done. They'll just take a lot of crimping and sewing. And Angler Yves could be made out of paper mache."

"Hmm – perhaps," Alice agreed, twisting her head around to get a better look at the spiny head. "Though the dangling bit could pose another problem. And I was kind of hoping for a dress that might survive a dip in a pool."

Her reflection chuckled. "We should probably concentrate on completing our final project before getting that ambitious."

"I suppose, but – still. Wouldn't it be nice to have a few underwater shots to wow our costuming teacher?"

"Yes, but waterproof fabrics are likely to be more expensive. And need to be dyed."

"Oh, everything's going to need to be dyed, I don't doubt for a moment no manufacturer on earth is going to be able to match the shades–"

Bzzz bzzz bzzz bzzz bzzz

Alice blinked, and her Siren dress vanished, replaced by the white shirt and jeans she'd thrown on earlier. Her reflection went silent, back to simply mimicking her movements in reverse. Shame, she was often Alice's main source of intelligent conversation. She frowned about her room. "Now what was that?"

It didn't take long to locate the source of the noise – her phone, usually a silent observer of her homework, was vibrating like mad beside the desk lamp. She picked it up and checked the screen. She wasn't expecting any calls, but you never knew when Sunny Brews would demand an extra shift. . .

Unknown Number greeted her curious eyes. Ah. Probably just a telemarketer, she thought, shaking her head. Her thumb went toward the "deny" button. Well, sorry to deny you the chance to hone your pitch, but I have much better things to do than hear how I could win a thousand pounds if I just give you my credit card number.

Purrhaps – but I seem to recall you sent a line out into the great sea of humanity earlier, Cheshire's voice suddenly intruded. Normally anglers are eager to get a nibble, aren't they?

What are you talking about, mang – oh. Oh! Her thumb reversed course, stabbing the "accept" button just before the whole thing went over to voicemail. "Hello?"

"Oh – ah – hi," a familiar voice replied. Alice let out a tiny sigh of relief. "I was just – I thought – a-am I interrupting something? I c-can call back–"

"No, no, nothing important," Alice assured him, as Cheshire's grin hung smugly over her shoulder. "Just homework. Took me a moment to realize it might not be a scam artist calling me." She settled herself back in her chair. "So it wasn't too presumptuous of me to put that number on your napkin."

Her caller laughed softly. It was a nice sound. "No, not at all. You quite surprised me there. I've – I've never had a girl do that before."

"Well, it's the first time I've ever done such a thing," Alice told him. "Most of the male customers who show any interest in me are either interested in free drinks or crude passes." She rolled her eyes. "I'd like to write something a little different on their napkins."

"Oh dear, I'm sure." There was a dull drumming sound, as if he were tapping his fingers on something. "But on that subject – this may sound silly, and I-I know you weren't mad, obviously, but I still feel like I should apologize for making that sketch of you. W-without your permission, I mean. I don't usually draw people. You were a bit – spur of the moment."

Alice twirled her pencil through her fingers, remembering the inked version of her face that had occupied his sketchbook page, every line crisp and clean. "Spur of the moment," she repeated. "I'd love to see what happens when you really put your mind to it."

His blush was almost audible. "Well, I-I've had a lot of practice."

"I can tell." She switched the phone to her other ear. "I suppose you're right that you should have asked me first, but as you're also right that I'm not mad, I think we can skip it. A drawing's rather harmless anyway. I never expected to be anybody's muse."

"Well, you just – you looked so – so pretty."

Alice arched an eyebrow. "Cleaning up garbage?"

"It was something about your face," he explained. "The set of your lips, the fire in your eyes. . .it seemed a crime to just let it pass by without trying to preserve it."

Someone thought she was pretty – worthy of being preserved in paper and ink – when she was dumping old coffee cups and discarded muffin wrappers in the trash. Now Alice had to wonder if he could hear her blushing. "You're a flatterer," she told him, leaning her head back to look at the ceiling.

"I'm an artist," he replied. "I know beauty when I see it."

Coming from anyone else, she would have considered that a bad pick-up line. Coming from her green-tea-and-chocolate-chocolate-chip-muffin man, who'd already proved his skills with a pen, in the most sincere voice she'd ever heard. . .her cheeks had to be glowing by this point. "Well, I'm not available for life modeling just yet," she said, trying to pave over the mushy mess her heart had become.

"What – oh, no, I d-didn't mean–" he started babbling, sounding almost frightened.

"I'm joking," she quickly reassured him. "A bit nervous, are we?"

A sigh echoed down the line. "I've just – never really done this before," he admitted quietly.

"Called up a girl? Well, I haven't either, so we're in the same boat," Alice said, and was rewarded with another laugh. "Never called up a boy, either, come to think of it."

"I'm your first?" he said, surprised.

"Well, I wasn't in a good place for talking to boys–" or anyone "–for quite a while," Alice admitted, white padding slithering down the walls of her room. She shut her eyes and concentrated to clear it away. Not a good idea to hallucinate while talking to the nice young man. "But that's something we should discuss face to face. Possibly in a restaurant? I'm not going to make the list in any place with a dress code, but I could probably deal with cloth napkins."

He giggled. "I should probably get your last name first. I'd like to have you in my contacts as someone other than 'Alice the Waitress.'"

"Oi, I'm a barista," Alice told him, with no real rancor. "It's Liddell. L-i-d-d-e-l-l. Rhymes with fiddle."

"Liddell," he repeated. "All right then. I'm – well, I suppose you know from my credit card, but I'm Victor. Victor Van Dort."

"I do know, but they call them 'niceties' for a reason," Alice said, smiling. "Pleasure to meet you properly, Victor. So – I do know a pizza place not too far from the coffee shop. . ."